The Straite : Exposition IC

[Ozerath]

A loud beeping in the next room woke Cato Telemachus from an otherwise pleasant sleep. He rolled over in his bed, waiting for his steward to attend to it. The beeping stopped, only to resume again, this time emanating from the private terminal in Telemachus' bedroom. His eyes snapped open as he realized that the incoming message had the alternating tones of an urgent level communication. He quickly rose up from his Rhodesian sized bed and crossed the room to his Rhodesian sized desk (both of which had cost a great deal of money) and smashed his tiny fist onto the acceptance key on the terminal screen. "Yes?" he asked drowsily. Martuf's face was missing its characteristic lazy half-smile. His voice was completely flat, and deadly serious. "Pickup in twenty minutes, your balcony. Get dressed, read over this while you're at it." A small ping indicated a file had been received. "Martuf, what the hell? It's 3 in the morn-", but Martuf had already hung up. Telemachus sighed in exasperation, then opened the file he'd received. His jaw promptly dropped in shock.

Exactly twenty minutes later, Telemachus was standing on the small balcony outside his living room, huddling against the howling wind and driving snow of the blizzard sweeping through Bradenburg city. He smiled a little as he caught sight of an enormous poster flapping in the wind; “Australasia:” it read, “The New Frontier of Opportunity!” The poster showed a heroic looking man gazed off into the horizon while his family looked on in admiration. The newly created sigil of Australasia served as a background. The posters were the work of Lord Goebbles over at the Ministry of Information, who’d done a fantastic job creating some truly moving propaganda about the delights of the newly founded colony. The combined effort of various departments, including Telemachus’s own, had made the colony an astounding success, despite its somewhat toasty climate. Telemachus drew his coat tighter, and wished Martuf would hurry. As if in response to his silent command, a ghostly black gunship dropped out the sky on near silent counter-grav turbines, stopping a few feet from the edge of the balcony. A door on the side opened, and Martuf nimbly jumped out.

"Telemachus," he said by way of greeting.
"Martuf, is it true?" Telemachus asked fervently.
"Every word."
"...Llyena help us..."
"Indeed. Oh, I'm sorry by the way."
Before Telemachus could ask why, Martuf lifted him up by the arms and bodily threw him across the gap into the gunship's hold. A figure clad in a black stealthsuit caught him and placed him firmly in a seat. Any protests Telemachus was about to make died on his lips seeing that figure. Martuf casually jumped the gap again with all the agility of a treecat, closed the door, and the gunship immediately began to move off. Telemachus looked around the spacious hold of the military grade gunship. It was mostly filled with the silent, black suited figures known as Su'urtugal, except for himself, Martuf, a woman he didn't recognize, and the Minister of Colonial Affairs, Lord Tobias Milton. Telemachus was about to ask a question, but a quick gesture from Martuf indicated that silence was to be maintained.

The gunship whizzed through Bradenburg's skies, well above the civilian aircar lanes and in clear violation of dozens of traffic laws. Between its stealth systems and the blizzard, it was practically invisible. Telemachus knew he should be thinking about the news Martuf had given him, but at the moment he was more intrigued by the man himself. Telemachus had always assumed the slippery Yanissan was simply a well connected Lord Captain Commander with some good intuition, and maybe some friends in the Imperial Office of Intelligence. The IOI, however, was something of a bumbling, bureaucratic mess of an organization, famous for its incompetence. A very select few people, however, knew of a smaller, deadlier organization whose very existence was mostly a rumour: Oresteia, a covert organization directly reponsible to the Crown and no one else. From what Telemachus was seeing, Martuf had to be involved with Oresteia, and probably at a fairly high level, maybe even the very top.

The gunship began to descend, then slowed to a hover, then landed. “We’re here,” Martuf announced curtly as he opened the hatch. The woman nodded, and crossed to the open hatch, stepping out without hesitation. Telemachus and Milton followed behind, and Telemachus drew in a sharp breath when he saw where they were. Whitehall Palace’s Crimson Tower, private residence of the Imperial family, reared up before them. Martuf had just oh-so-casually landed a gunship full of storm troopers on what was essentially the Imperial Queen’s front porch.

They encountered no guards as they went in. Nor anyone for that matter, except for more of Martuf’s black clad Su’urtugal. They passed through a lofty entrance hallway, then up some stairs, then down another lofty hallway, then through a door into a small sitting room. Martuf indicated that Telemachus and Milton should take a seat, and they obliged. He nodded once to the woman, who crossed the room and opened a door on the far side. No more than two minutes later, the woman reemerged, followed closely by her Imperial Majesty, Catherine Romanov, Queen of the Vit’azny and Empress of the Commonwealth, Handmaiden of Llyena, Jewel of the Prides, and Duchess of Bradenburg.

“Lord Milton, Sir Telemachus,” she nodded in greeting. The two ministers rose from their seats and bowed deeply. “Your Imperial Majesty” they said in unison. She smiled faintly. “Alright Martuf, what in the Light is it this time? I hope you have a good reason for marching in here at this uncivilized hour.”
“A very good reason, Imperial Majesty.” Martuf replied smoothly. “I was able to send the ministers a briefing note, but knowing there was no way of sending you such a document without at least three people seeing it first, I was forced to speak to you directly. I thought it prudent to bring the ministers most directly involved with me, such is the gravity of the situation.”
“Oh for Gods’s sake, out with it man!”
“Of course, my Queen,” Martuf smirked impudently. “About four months ago, I met with Lords Metternich and Bismarcks, as well as Sir Telemachus to discuss a number of pressing issues confronting the Commonwealth. Among those issues was the general discontent in the colonies; not a serious problem, but one that needed to be adressed. Since then, your own elevation of Cicatha and Malacostra to Constituent status and the colonization of Australasia have significantly reduced the problem, as intended. About two months ago, the larger riots and demonstrations stopped, but smaller riots and acts of violence persisted across a surprising number of worlds. The perpetrators seemed to be small groups of individuals who strongly oppose your reign, your Imperial Majesty. Now, I thought to myself, ‘My but this is interesting. As far as the proles are concerned, life’s as good as it can be in the colonies.’ I decided I’d better get rid of them, quietly. I made the first round of arrests on Archaya. It was supposed to be a routine procedure; Su’urtugal were to storm a dissenter meeting place, arrest everyone inside, and move them offworld to Oresteia facilities. However, when they moved in, the dissenters were armed. Well armed, and fully intent on resisting.”
“Armed dissenters? That is troubling.” Catherine frowned.
“Yes, but hardly this urgent. No, the fact that they had weapons is just the beginning. They opened fire on the Su’urtugal, killing two. In the ensuing firefight, all the dissenters were killed except one. The building had security cameras, but my team wiped the local drives. Yet somehow, barely an hour later, footage of the raid was all over local media. The next day, the footage was being shown all over other dissenting worlds on specific media outlets. It seems the security cameras were also sending a copy of their footage to offsite backup servers. Somebody got that footage out to the media almost immediately, and then they somehow managed to bypass Ministry of Information strictures on interplanetary communications. All of the involved transmissions were heavily encrypted and scrambled, and when we eventually traced them, the sites were completely abandoned. In the meantime, the news stories were doing their work. We clamped down the responsible institutions, but the footage was all over the extranet and discontent was on the rise again.” Martuf paused to let the implications sink in.

Telemachus had already read all this, but he still felt a sinking feeling in his stomach as the Queen’s words echoed his thoughts. “It was a trap,” she said grimly.
“Precisely. With that in mind, I suspended all further operations until I could get a better grasp of the situation. That’s when I decided to send in Javelin.” Martuf looked over at the second woman on the room, who finally broke her silence with a light, clear voice.
“I went out to Farpoint about a month ago to investigate the dissenters. I posed as a poor scrap trader, went to the appropriate type of hangout, ranted about the Commonwealth and their bitch Queen, no offense intended your Imperial Majesty,” she said with a smirk. “Before long, I was in. Now, I’ve infiltrated dissenter groups before. Usually, once you’re in, it’s pretty easy to move up. They’re so desperate for people and so naive, they’ll take whoever they can get. But this time, this time was different. I was in, but barely. I was taken to some meetings, mostly rants against the Commonwealth rather than planning. I was sometimes given packages to take to someone, and sometimes I was told to go take part in a demonstration or start a riot. After a while, they started trusting me a little more, but not much. I was ‘promoted’ to a sort of oversight position. I supervised some of the riots and kept an eye out for potential recruits, but they still weren’t telling me anything exactly secret. Eventually, I got tired of being stonewalled and faked my own death. One of the higher-up types was scheduled to come to the core worlds this week, so I took bashed her over the head and interogated her for a while, then took her place on the shuttle. What I learned was...surprising. Or more correctly, what I didn’t learn. This woman barely knew anything. She knew three other ‘officers’ of the same rank, and one superior. All she really did was pass on orders and status reports. What she was carrying, however, told me something else. This was her gun,” Javelin said, tossing a pistol on the table. “An Argus 210 energy based sidearm. Easy to use, easy to aim, highly effective, and extremely expensive. I’d seen several other lieutenants armed the same. In addition, during that botched raid, the dissenters were using high end private sector weaponry, on a world lightyears away.” Javelin said grimly.

“These are the facts as I understand them, your Imperial Majesty,” she continued. “One; the actual rate of civilian involvement with this movement is quite low. The majority of their members are ignorant, disgruntled colonials who know very little about the group and haven’t really done anything wrong. Two; somewhere, there is a key group of insiders who do the business of running the group. They are extremely well organised, and it is safe to say they intend to do much more than start a few riots on distant colonial backwaters. Three; this group is well funded and well connected. Their weapons, as well as the rapid response times of the local media indicate as much. Four; this is not just a vague expression of discontent by ignorant colonials. This is an organized, active rebellion against the Commonwealth and everything it stands for, and it will not be going away anytime soon.”

The seconds slowly ticked by, their passage measured by the rhythmic ticking of the antique clock on the wall. The Queen tapped her fingers contemplatively and stared intently into empty air, then began to speak in a dangerous, cold voice. “Thank you Javelin. I want you to go back to Farpoint and continue trying to infiltrate these rebels. Martuf, I want all your resources on this. As many agents and as much money as it takes. I want to know what these rebels eat for breakfast! Telemachus, Milton, I want you two to prepare a report to the Cabinet for tomorrow. Say you obtained this information from a source with full Confidence of the Crown. They’ll get the idea. Any suggestions gentlemen?”
“I would suggest putting a total press blackout on this issue your Imperial Majesty,” Milton said. “There’s not much we can do about it in the colonies, but I don’t think it would be good if any legitimate news entity in the Core or Constituencies caught wind of this.”
“Very true, I’ll comm Lord Goebbles first thing in the morning.”

“I’d suggest that we keep up the colonization drives,” Telemachus piped up, “perhaps even expand the efforts.”
“Javelin just explained that these rebels aren’t a bunch of disgruntled colonials,” the Queen frowned, “how would the colonization drives help?”
“By cutting down on their recruits, your Imperial Majesty. If we can keep the masses happy, then the ideologies of these rebels won’t be taken seriously and their movement won’t grow. Additionally, if we can get most of the civilians to leave their groups, whoever is left is probably part of the command structure. Any successful rebellion needs popular support, and I intend to deprive them of that.”
“Telemachus, I’m sorry I ever doubted you. I’m sure Cabinet will agree with you, and that the First Lord of the Void would be willing to send out more expeditionary forces. Anything else?” Catherine asked, looking from face to face. “Good. I suggest we all try to get some sleep; we’ll all have very busy days tomorrow. Lastly, I want to make it clear; this rebellion ends now.” Her voice was suddenly very quiet. “We will infiltrate the highest ranks of their movement, we will destroy them from the inside and out. We will hunt down every last rebel and ship them off to forgotten hellholes, and their leaders will suffer fates so horrendous that the next rabblerousing idiot will think twice before he dares to incite my people against me!”


Actions:
Open Trade Route (-1 Frigate)
Send Expeditionary Force (-5 Corvettes, -100c)
Send Expeditionary Force (-5 Corvettes, -100c)

[Xartarin]

The government of Deyrok had an informal deal with its peace-loving populace. The Councilors generally commissioned new spacecraft only as replacements, usually for those used in exploration or defense. Only in suspicion of coming war would the Council be able to increase the size of the planet's armada without backlash from the public. A public that usually didn't have to deal with the reality that sapient species from other planets weren't biologically predisposed to working together. At this point orders for starship construction were done automatically after deployment. Soon after some "corvettes" were used for exploration and colonization, the orders to make some replacements began changing hands through Deyrok's burecrats, approved and weighed against budgetary and time concerns, and to the colonial shipyards. Though the shipyards acted independent of the government otherwise, orders from the Unity of Deyrok took precedence over others by law.

Luckily for all other customers of large interstellar crafts, the shipyards had production power to spare, and the accomodation of two extra spaceships being constructed was a minor bump in productivity.

Nel left the somewhat roadless fields of the colony, not exactly a marvel of city planning, and onto the artificial fields of the interior of shipyard #28. Nel was a nervous Nilinth, slow to speak and non-confrontational even by their standards. As ze passed by an Uben security guard picking burned flesh off the bones of a former employee and current victim of the furnace and snacking on it, ze didn't even bother to ask who the then-worky now-jerky was. Nel kept looking ahead, almost marching, towards zir office as Third Assistant to the Head of Business Expansion.

It would be a few hours before news of Deyrok successfully establishing a new colony would come in, along with a discovery of resources that lowered the price of starship shielding carbon (which was good for the shipyards but irrelevant to their customers, as the final price of the starships was unaffected). With that news came a new plan of establishing a new manufacturing center there and converting some of the shipyards here into food production, as it was closer to Deyrok. While looking through the proposal, mostly budget concerns and building plans, Nel noticed that ze was the Business Expansion Assistant being transferred to the new site. As it would be to most Nilinth, this wasn't pleasant news. And seeing as there were two other Business Expansion Assistants perfectly capable of making the transfer as well, after some time agonizing over the decision ze decided to talk to he building manager.

Ze got out of zir office and marched past the construction of the corvettes requested. In the early days of Deyrok's space fare, their ships would look like cobbled messes of other planet's technology. Whatever pieces the Unity thought would be cool to have on their fleet were incorporated into the new designs. Nowadays they were more standardized, designs commissioned by non-Nilinth technicians that could be mass-produced with the specs they needed and added upon easily should Deyrok manage to "acquire" new advances in defense and travel from other nations.

Nel had a short talk with the business manager. Ultimately it was clear to Nel why ze was chosen over the others; the other assistants had mates, while ze did not. Because Nilinth were only comfortable reproducing on their home planet, Nilitnh without mates were more likely to be transferred to distant colonies. Reluctantly, Nel accepted that this was sound logic, and returned to zir office to begin preparing to move. As ze sat down at zir desk, the new proposals still laid out in front of zir, ze looked up out into the construction area, and saw another Nilinth passing by. Nel caught their attention in the corner of their eye, who looked at Nel for a second before continuing on their way.

Nel didn't smile. Nilinth can't smile, their mouths don't work like that.

Capitalist Venture (-400 Cs)
Produce 2 Corvettes (-350 Cs)

[Darkmatter]

Plot: ~Expedition

-We know you are here. We will seek you out. The cycle will continue.

The Beacon was pleased indeed. The station had been brought online with great speed and efficiency. He hoped the others found his work acceptable. Acceptable. That's all he ever got. Aeons in isolation made the Beacon a bitter AI. His masters were the servants of the universe, the masters of cosmic order and had little to no thought for such menial issues. The beacon however, had been designed for such task and over the countless cycles his personality had developed into one more like those whom developed on the Straite's worlds than his masters. His priorities were still tightly fixed though.*

Two signal ships approached the Beacon. They were larger than him, quite a bit larger, frigate sized. The two ships awaited instructions. The instructions came and they were the same as they always were.*

The two ships quickly sped towards to Relay. The behemoth detected them and burned with a deep blue energy, the raw power of eezo. As expected, the ships suddenly shot through the Relay through it's great protruding arms, but both in opposite directions.

It would still be quite some time before the arrived, the Beacon had plenty of time to set the first few phases of the cleansing in motion. As he always did, he started with a trap.*

*
At approximately 16:47 yesterday, two ships of unknown origin appeared in the neutral zone surrounding both Prime and Alpha Relays. One ship appeared at each arm. The origin of these ships isn't the biggest mystery raised by their appearance. RASP forces quickly intercepted the vessels and their scans found the ships to be devoid of life with no signs of ever being crewed.*

About an hour after arrival, each ship began transmitting a signal. The signal was quickly disseminated and it was revealed to contain coordinates to something positioned at the centre of the galaxy. Along with this came codes and transcripts which match the structure of the previously known Relay launch protocols. It is presumed at this point that these new protocols will carry somebody to this broadcasted location. The real question is who will venture forth into what is the first unknown in our collective galactic history....

Events: ~Turn 2
With this great mystery comes great oppurtunity. Players may send a Unique Expeditionary Force, through the Relays, with these new protocols. The debris risk from last turn is still in effect. A reward will be given to the first to discover the what lies beyond.

Summary Of Actions: ~Turn 2







Unity of Deyrok:
Capitalist Venture -400 Cs
Produce 2 Corvettes -350 Cs

Imperial Systems' Commonwealth:
Open Trade Route -1 Frigate
Send Expeditionary Force -5 Corvettes -100c
Send Expeditionary Force -5 Corvettes -100c

Avaloos:
Scientific Advancement - 200C
Scientific Advancement - 200C
Scientific Advancement - 200C

Hamacians:
Open Trade Route -Frigate
Send Expeditionary Force - 100C - 5 Corvettes
Send Expeditionary Force - 100C - 5 Corvettes

Results: ~Turn 2


Unity Of Deyrok:
-Open Trade Route established with the Hamacians
-Capitalist Venture(400C) Success! Rate x2 +800C
-2 Corvette Units Produced

Imperial Systems' Commonwealth:
-Open Trade Route Pending
-Expeditionary Force locates an asteroid belt wich in carbon isotopes used in nanoproduction +200C -Corvette Unit
-Expeditionary Force is ambushed by a group of seperatist raiders who fled the Commonwealth centuries ago. -5 Corvette Units

Avaloos:
-Scientific Advancementx3 +30 Stasus. No Great Advancement discovered.

Hamacians:
-Open Trade Route established with UOD
-Expeditionary Force locates a moon, with a suitable atmosphere to warrant colonization -2 Corvette Units
-Expeditionary Force discovers a jungle planet with signs of previous settlement. A colony is founded to explore. -2 Corvette Units