As the Galactic Council is mere days away approaches, multiple leaders begin to get ready for the meeting on the meeting of the Council on Earth. During the meeting they shall talk about the current issues of the Milky Way such as the Kurtiye Civil War and creating a cease fire and the continues colonization by the Kingdom of Sol, even though the last Galactic Council meeting told them to slow down the expansion
[IC] Sollus Supremus (Dune-like Space Opera)
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Natsucooldude
Banned
Seen
7 yrs ago
Earth starport: 3 days before the council.
An elegant starship flew onto the docking clamps. It was quite graceful in design, fit more to impress than to project power. It contained two visitors of particular importance, here to represent their respective people at the galactic council.
The first was barrier-2. Overseer of social sciences and assigned ambassador of the Qulseoc people. Sat in a rolling exosuit that lazily moved itself out of the ship. It was a pretty standard Qulseoc exosuit, consisting of a hab-tube filled with water attached to a frame with tracked wheels and simple manipulator arms. Although the Qulseoc could move about on foot, their tentacled limbs made movement on dry ground sluggish and somewhat goofy to look at. Such undignified blubbering could not do for an important representative like that.
The second was High Commissar Vardan Ruska of the Savarog Federation and its subjects. He stood at a fearsome eight and a half foot, and was clad in traditional Savarog formal garments - though to other races these still seemed somewhat plain and utilitarian. Even his tusks had, what would appear to be, gold inlays among them a starkly different manner of clothing and decoration than was normally considered for Savarog diplomats. He stood alongside the Quelseoc overseer of social sciences, and ahead of a contingent of elite, power-armoured Crakador super-heavy infantry, their armour marked with tribal sigils signifying them as all Kunaka - or, bluntly, honour guards.
“So… commissar” the static voice of the Qulseoc sounded. “Let us recap what our stances on predicted issues on the council’s agenda will be.” One of the slimy tentacles danced over the internal control screen, and a holographic display took form, listing everything in a neat spreadsheet.
”Hmm... probably wanna mention those Kurtiyes and their whole war issue. No doubt those peace--lovers will want a cease fire... guess that’d be our primary goal for that issue.” The Savarog looked almost bored by this, and that is by all regards what he actually felt. “Guess we also need to stop those humans from populating further, don’t want that turning into a civil war like those Kurtiyes. No doubt you should probably do the talk for that, however.”
“Yes, It would indeed be in our interests to see that whole crisis resolved peacefully, but as I mentioned earlier, we’ll also openly support the Ozgersarry faction. After all, as you of all people should know, a strong army trumps economic power, at least in a dirty civil war like this.” The Qulseoc knew what he was talking about. It was his job to know these things. “And concerning sol’s expansionism… It would indeed be a shame to see them fall to ruin due to overextension. And fall to ruin they will if current trends continue.”
After those two points, the ambassadors continued the discussion onwards to more minor points, currently of little relevance. It wasn’t long until they were shuttled to the planet’s surface and moved to their assigned quarters.
An elegant starship flew onto the docking clamps. It was quite graceful in design, fit more to impress than to project power. It contained two visitors of particular importance, here to represent their respective people at the galactic council.
The first was barrier-2. Overseer of social sciences and assigned ambassador of the Qulseoc people. Sat in a rolling exosuit that lazily moved itself out of the ship. It was a pretty standard Qulseoc exosuit, consisting of a hab-tube filled with water attached to a frame with tracked wheels and simple manipulator arms. Although the Qulseoc could move about on foot, their tentacled limbs made movement on dry ground sluggish and somewhat goofy to look at. Such undignified blubbering could not do for an important representative like that.
The second was High Commissar Vardan Ruska of the Savarog Federation and its subjects. He stood at a fearsome eight and a half foot, and was clad in traditional Savarog formal garments - though to other races these still seemed somewhat plain and utilitarian. Even his tusks had, what would appear to be, gold inlays among them a starkly different manner of clothing and decoration than was normally considered for Savarog diplomats. He stood alongside the Quelseoc overseer of social sciences, and ahead of a contingent of elite, power-armoured Crakador super-heavy infantry, their armour marked with tribal sigils signifying them as all Kunaka - or, bluntly, honour guards.
“So… commissar” the static voice of the Qulseoc sounded. “Let us recap what our stances on predicted issues on the council’s agenda will be.” One of the slimy tentacles danced over the internal control screen, and a holographic display took form, listing everything in a neat spreadsheet.
”Hmm... probably wanna mention those Kurtiyes and their whole war issue. No doubt those peace--lovers will want a cease fire... guess that’d be our primary goal for that issue.” The Savarog looked almost bored by this, and that is by all regards what he actually felt. “Guess we also need to stop those humans from populating further, don’t want that turning into a civil war like those Kurtiyes. No doubt you should probably do the talk for that, however.”
“Yes, It would indeed be in our interests to see that whole crisis resolved peacefully, but as I mentioned earlier, we’ll also openly support the Ozgersarry faction. After all, as you of all people should know, a strong army trumps economic power, at least in a dirty civil war like this.” The Qulseoc knew what he was talking about. It was his job to know these things. “And concerning sol’s expansionism… It would indeed be a shame to see them fall to ruin due to overextension. And fall to ruin they will if current trends continue.”
After those two points, the ambassadors continued the discussion onwards to more minor points, currently of little relevance. It wasn’t long until they were shuttled to the planet’s surface and moved to their assigned quarters.
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SillyGoy Goius Sillius
Member
Seen
2 yrs ago
THE HARMONY
THREE DAYS BEFORE THE COUNCIL
EARTH ORBIT, SOL SYSTEM
THE STARPORT
Were she younger, thought Wen Ten Xei, the Most Serene One, and you had told her that she would be at the Throneworld of an alien empire as a representative for her entire people, she'd have laughed and scoffed at you. Perhaps she might've even kicked you playfully out of her Simulation. And yet, somehow, after so many years of living carelessly by following the wind, she was indeed here, staring with mesmerized eyes at Earth, the capital world of the Humans. It was a quaint, almost frail looking thing from far away, but the shuttle had come nearer now. Now it was giant, strong, arrogant and indomitable, taking up the entire window and most of her vision. Verdant at the daylight side with forests and oceans and luminous from the numerous human cities in the dark side, Wen concluded that, though imperfect, it was indeed full of charm.
Earth reminded her of a time long gone by. A time when her home planet, Hi, looked just like it. It was a transitional period wherein the first ascendants gave up their mortal bodies to become truly perfect as electronic gods. Their courage and foresight inspired the rest of her kin - including herself - to do the same.
She still remembered her ascension like it was yesterday. Oh, the pleasure she felt, as the Guru mounted her while her mind thrashed in limbo between-
Wen bit her lip. Such thoughts were inappropriate, especially on a mission as unique and important as this one. Her capacity was a prestigious and coveted one - she was the Most Serene, the woman to represent the entire Harmony in the most auspicious of coming gatherings - a council for the Great Powers of the Galaxy. And here she was, thinking about being mounted.
"Most Serene One," came a raspy, metallic voice. Her hair that reached all the way to her hips, black as the void and silken like morning dew, fell softly over her upper shoulders as she turned around. Her gaze fell upon one of her Honor Guards. "Are you alright?" he asked.
Of the nine members of the mission, only she possessed a platform that mimicked her past, biological self and made it perfect. There was no questioning her beauty, as her golden eyes stared with promise and daring; as her crimson dress, flush with elaborate embroidery in golden thread, parted by the hip to reveal the smoothness of her thighs, and hugged her body to emphasize the shape of her full breasts. Her hairdress, crafted by an artificer, was made of gold and inlaid with sparkling, perfectly cut sapphires, and from it hung ribbons whereupon are inscribed poetic adulations to the perfection of her form. The hue of her skin was a deep indigo: sultry, lustful, and playful. In her hand she held an obsidian staff decorated with golden rings and topped with a masterful sculpture of a female Wo swooning, also in precious gold. A delightful, flowery fragrance was always about her. Back home, she would be sex incarnate.
Her honor guard, however, had none of these luxuries. She had taken four men and four women, and she had petitioned that they be afforded the same bodies as her, but in the end The Most Harmonious One gave them eight standardized constructs to operate in: large, metallic and crude-looking simulacrums of a male Wo, with bald heads of plasteel and feature-wise they had only a single, unblinking blue eye that dominated their faceplates. They stood on hind legs as opposed to regular ones. Built to kill, they carried around long, double-bladed spears whose blades, when activated, could become charged with intense, destructive energy. The potency of these melee weapons were enough to destroy tanks.
They were ugly, thought Wen. And she did not delight in this. She did concede, however, that purely combat forms were the most reasonable to take given the short amount of time she was afforded to prepare for the mission - the elections for her position took longer than normal. Fools. But in the end, they saw that she was the most perfect among the House of the Enlightened Ones.
She smiled. But the ease and grace with which she had done it would have driven any male Wo mad with lust.
"I'm quite fine, captain. Thank you for asking."
The Guard bowed deeply in understanding, his mechanical joints whirring under the strain of an unfamiliar pose. Nothing was said beyond that. For a few minutes more, she continued to stare at Earth's titanic form, and sometimes at the human starships that came and went. Humans and humanity - they were imperfect, to be sure, but they did have charm. Their similarities to her people were quite striking; it seemed as if only the amount of limbs, eye color, and skin color differed between the two races in that the Wo had greater variety. Come to think of it, some of their males did look quite ni-
She bit her lip again. Inappropriate thoughts.
A chime and a green light brought her eyes to a flashing data panel. The docking sequence, performed entirely by her shuttle's AI, had been completed. Without a word, she and her Honor Guard assembled by the airlock. Their movements were brisk, forced and brutal, but she was like gliding across the cold, metal floor. When the door opened, they rushed out in a perfect military march, stopping when the rearguard had cleared the ramp, and turned towards the red carpet. And in the moment Wen stepped on it, there was a barrage of camera flashes, to the point where it almost overwhelmed the pleasantly surprised Wo. As she passed, the Guards saluted her with their spears, and after gliding past the threshold of the captain, she looked towards the gathered alien crowd that were fenced away from the docking area with the help of uniformed human servicemen. To them, she turned, and bowed. And to their mediamen, she also bowed in a manner that was graceful and elegant, but also humble and unassuming. Immediately, she detected a spike of activity from the Terran Pathways - her simple, courteous acts had inspired a wave of talk.
And Wen absolutely loved the attention.
She smiled to herself. In just a night, she would dispel the commonly held belief that the Wo were a race of metal husks, forever doomed to walk the stars as an undead race. The humans had expected the Harmony's ambassador to be plasteel skeletons like her eight Honor Guard, but instead they got an exotic alien beauty.
The translation software booted up within the depths of her computerized mind as she saw her human counterpart approaching. Also a woman, she was dressed formally, but without individuality. That was a shame, as these humans were clearly a race of potential - a high-strung race that would achieve so much culturally, if only they winded down and invested in the pleasures of life like hers did. They met, shook hands, and exchanged pleasant greetings. Surrounded by flags hanging from the towering walls of Earth's main starport and amidst the blaring of national anthems, such was how the first Wo landed upon Earth. Wen, oh beautiful Wen, was now the face of the Harmony.
THREE DAYS BEFORE THE COUNCIL
EARTH ORBIT, SOL SYSTEM
THE STARPORT
Were she younger, thought Wen Ten Xei, the Most Serene One, and you had told her that she would be at the Throneworld of an alien empire as a representative for her entire people, she'd have laughed and scoffed at you. Perhaps she might've even kicked you playfully out of her Simulation. And yet, somehow, after so many years of living carelessly by following the wind, she was indeed here, staring with mesmerized eyes at Earth, the capital world of the Humans. It was a quaint, almost frail looking thing from far away, but the shuttle had come nearer now. Now it was giant, strong, arrogant and indomitable, taking up the entire window and most of her vision. Verdant at the daylight side with forests and oceans and luminous from the numerous human cities in the dark side, Wen concluded that, though imperfect, it was indeed full of charm.
Earth reminded her of a time long gone by. A time when her home planet, Hi, looked just like it. It was a transitional period wherein the first ascendants gave up their mortal bodies to become truly perfect as electronic gods. Their courage and foresight inspired the rest of her kin - including herself - to do the same.
She still remembered her ascension like it was yesterday. Oh, the pleasure she felt, as the Guru mounted her while her mind thrashed in limbo between-
Wen bit her lip. Such thoughts were inappropriate, especially on a mission as unique and important as this one. Her capacity was a prestigious and coveted one - she was the Most Serene, the woman to represent the entire Harmony in the most auspicious of coming gatherings - a council for the Great Powers of the Galaxy. And here she was, thinking about being mounted.
"Most Serene One," came a raspy, metallic voice. Her hair that reached all the way to her hips, black as the void and silken like morning dew, fell softly over her upper shoulders as she turned around. Her gaze fell upon one of her Honor Guards. "Are you alright?" he asked.
Of the nine members of the mission, only she possessed a platform that mimicked her past, biological self and made it perfect. There was no questioning her beauty, as her golden eyes stared with promise and daring; as her crimson dress, flush with elaborate embroidery in golden thread, parted by the hip to reveal the smoothness of her thighs, and hugged her body to emphasize the shape of her full breasts. Her hairdress, crafted by an artificer, was made of gold and inlaid with sparkling, perfectly cut sapphires, and from it hung ribbons whereupon are inscribed poetic adulations to the perfection of her form. The hue of her skin was a deep indigo: sultry, lustful, and playful. In her hand she held an obsidian staff decorated with golden rings and topped with a masterful sculpture of a female Wo swooning, also in precious gold. A delightful, flowery fragrance was always about her. Back home, she would be sex incarnate.
Her honor guard, however, had none of these luxuries. She had taken four men and four women, and she had petitioned that they be afforded the same bodies as her, but in the end The Most Harmonious One gave them eight standardized constructs to operate in: large, metallic and crude-looking simulacrums of a male Wo, with bald heads of plasteel and feature-wise they had only a single, unblinking blue eye that dominated their faceplates. They stood on hind legs as opposed to regular ones. Built to kill, they carried around long, double-bladed spears whose blades, when activated, could become charged with intense, destructive energy. The potency of these melee weapons were enough to destroy tanks.
They were ugly, thought Wen. And she did not delight in this. She did concede, however, that purely combat forms were the most reasonable to take given the short amount of time she was afforded to prepare for the mission - the elections for her position took longer than normal. Fools. But in the end, they saw that she was the most perfect among the House of the Enlightened Ones.
She smiled. But the ease and grace with which she had done it would have driven any male Wo mad with lust.
"I'm quite fine, captain. Thank you for asking."
The Guard bowed deeply in understanding, his mechanical joints whirring under the strain of an unfamiliar pose. Nothing was said beyond that. For a few minutes more, she continued to stare at Earth's titanic form, and sometimes at the human starships that came and went. Humans and humanity - they were imperfect, to be sure, but they did have charm. Their similarities to her people were quite striking; it seemed as if only the amount of limbs, eye color, and skin color differed between the two races in that the Wo had greater variety. Come to think of it, some of their males did look quite ni-
She bit her lip again. Inappropriate thoughts.
A chime and a green light brought her eyes to a flashing data panel. The docking sequence, performed entirely by her shuttle's AI, had been completed. Without a word, she and her Honor Guard assembled by the airlock. Their movements were brisk, forced and brutal, but she was like gliding across the cold, metal floor. When the door opened, they rushed out in a perfect military march, stopping when the rearguard had cleared the ramp, and turned towards the red carpet. And in the moment Wen stepped on it, there was a barrage of camera flashes, to the point where it almost overwhelmed the pleasantly surprised Wo. As she passed, the Guards saluted her with their spears, and after gliding past the threshold of the captain, she looked towards the gathered alien crowd that were fenced away from the docking area with the help of uniformed human servicemen. To them, she turned, and bowed. And to their mediamen, she also bowed in a manner that was graceful and elegant, but also humble and unassuming. Immediately, she detected a spike of activity from the Terran Pathways - her simple, courteous acts had inspired a wave of talk.
And Wen absolutely loved the attention.
She smiled to herself. In just a night, she would dispel the commonly held belief that the Wo were a race of metal husks, forever doomed to walk the stars as an undead race. The humans had expected the Harmony's ambassador to be plasteel skeletons like her eight Honor Guard, but instead they got an exotic alien beauty.
The translation software booted up within the depths of her computerized mind as she saw her human counterpart approaching. Also a woman, she was dressed formally, but without individuality. That was a shame, as these humans were clearly a race of potential - a high-strung race that would achieve so much culturally, if only they winded down and invested in the pleasures of life like hers did. They met, shook hands, and exchanged pleasant greetings. Surrounded by flags hanging from the towering walls of Earth's main starport and amidst the blaring of national anthems, such was how the first Wo landed upon Earth. Wen, oh beautiful Wen, was now the face of the Harmony.
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GM
EveryMemeAKing Ｅｖｅｒｙ Ｍａｎ Ａ Ｋｉｎｇ
Member
Seen
7 yrs ago
Kingdom of Sol
Council Meeting is 3 Days Away
Earth, New Sol
Slavius Castle
Dimitry sat alone quietly in his room, simply reading about the recent news throughout the galaxy. Headlines like "Possible Embargoes on Kurtiye" and "Galactic Wide Spice Shortage" flash through the papers but they are simply ignored. Dimitry knows they are simply just superstitions by a population itching for something to do. Why, you might think they'd wish an end to the 200 generations of Pax Sollus and its great peace. The people where just wanting a movement to rally behind, no matter how ridiculous it would be. Dimitry knew that their hopes where most likely futile, most likely nothing would come of this council meeting. The Kurtiye will most likely stay in their state of madness and the so called "Spice Shortage" would be addressed and proven wrong, and besides, even if it was right, the great Kingdom had a colony dedicated to the production of it in its purest form.
Spice itself was nothing but an addictive substance loved by the rich across the galaxy. Similar to the great Opium Wars during the Age of British on Earth this substance was yearned for enough to start conflicts that could kill thousands, but the Kingdom quickly just swooped in when it was in high demand and grabbed up a colony for it, creating one of the largest sources of income for the nation.
A knock on the door causes Dimitry to jump out of his chair.
"Come in." Dimitry states.
The door slides open and in walks his wife. Sasha Alekseyevna was her original name before the marriage. She was the daughter of the governor of Christ's Light during his father's reign as king. She was wearing a long flowing blue dress and her tiara was on her head. Her blue eyes seemed to glow as she looked at him. Her blonde hair went down to the middle of her back.
"Oh, hello dear, I thought you'd be out meeting the guests." Sasha says.
"I'd rather not do that right now." Dimitry tells Sasha
"Why not, its not like you need to make some peace treaty, this is just a formal meeting, and not even that. The actual even is three days from."
"Really Sasha, there is no need to press the issue."
"Do you just want me to do it?"
"If you'd like Sasha."
"Well okay than you downer, I hope you'll at least be at the ball later tonight at the square." Sasha says, annoyed, as she walks out the door.
Fabulous Knight Defender of the Tragically Un-fabulous
Member
Seen
9 yrs ago
Revolutionary Kurtiye
Rosusta pulled his gloves tighter. His fingers couldn’t reach the ends. No matter. No matter. He kept the refrain in his head like a catechism. It took his mind off the council meeting. It kept him from thinking too hard. Ten minutes to landing.
The air was stale. Perfectly moderated. No breeze to ruffle through his fur. Not quite warm, not quite cool. No smoke, no dust. And a slow thrum. It was -- different. Different to the screams and laser-crackles and pounding, pounding mortars…
A shrill electric screech scratched through his head. They had landed. He was ushered to a bare waiting room, a few empty chairs and a couple of old, forgotten paintings. Nothing to do but think. He picked at his gloves.
“Father!” The voice rang out, soft like honeyed wine and sharp as a shamshir. His mouth -- a jagged slit in old leather -- curled into a smile.
“Hani! My little lily. It’s goo- oof!” Hani lurched into him and hugged, tight.
“Father! It’s been too long.”
“Three days.”
“Too long!
“And I spoke to you half an hour ago.” She clicked her fore-legs in annoyance.
“Too long, too long.” She paused. Tilted her head, her eyes fixed. She saw his worry, and it worried her. “We’re all behind you. Every step. You’ll be great! No slave is born brave. Just bare your fangs! You’re a straight-bred Kurt, you couldn’t lose to these peasants if you tried.”
“Breeding isn’t everything, you know. I hear some insects can be pretty outstanding.” She licked her mandibles. He had found her egg so long ago. A brutal uprising...
A servant called across the waiting room.
“The council is ready, so if you’ll follow me--
“Who are you?” Hani’s voice was cold as iron.
“I -- I’m -- uh -- I was told to--
“Your name. And title. You do have a title, yes? It must be a pretty impressive one, to talk to my father like that. Not even a ‘sir’!” The servant writhed.
“Leave the poor man be, Hani. I’ve no doubt it’s been a long day.” He kept himself from unsheathing his claws. “Besides, it’s time. We must go -- I’ll need you to keep me from running with my tail between my legs.”
---
The door opened, and a wave of hatred tore through him. A hundred glaring eyes bored into his fur. A rustling rose as hands reached at hips. Dusty jezzails, hunting rifles, smuggled Savarogs-- the tools of their revolution. Plain jackets and coarse cotton shirts with the occasional reeking tapestry draped around a village chief’s chest. Waxy feathers mixed with gleaming scales and clear glass wings. The stench of fear and anger rolled down his throat. They wanted him dead. Rosusta puffed up his chest and tried to hide his rising hackles.
“Ahah, here ihs the great Lord Roshushtah! It ihs good to seee you.” A voice like sand against steel. His eyes whipped to the man who spoke.
The stranger’s feathers lay smooth against his back. Deep black eyes pierced through a face of rugged ugliness. Like beetles in mountain dirt. “I ahm Bahl the...Bahl.” His beak gaped in a horrific grin. “The name dohs not translate well. I will be -- how is it you nobles put -- reparenting us freesoldiers -- Ozgerssaries. Forgive my not-good peasant speaking. I ahm learning how it ihs you-- people speak.” People. He spat the word. Rosusta licked his teeth, and steeled himself.
“It is as good to see you as you to see me, Bal the Bal. I know we can deal with each other as fellow gentlemen.” Bal inclined his head at the complement. He realised the meaning of his words. Recognition of their equal status. “I know you think we are different. That we cannot reconcile. But we can. We want freedom. We want justice. We want an end to suffering, all suffering. We want -- peace.” The room relaxed, and Bal cocked his head. The air was sweeter, fresher. “No young Sipahata raised an arm against fierce Ozger. No righteous Ozger shot sparks at noble Sipahata! Our enemy was not the Mutlagi. It was the Mutlaginate. And the Mutlaginate is no more. So let us eat together, let us live together, let us grasp hand in hand and lead a new world--” He stopped. Figures stepped out of nothing, pointed something at him, then disappeared.
Everything was curiously silent. He looked down. He stuffed his hands into the hole where his heart had been. He clawed and clawed and clawed until his chest was bloody tatters. There was some kind of commotion...terrible business. Some shouting. The floor was hard against his head, but the painted rafters… Colourful. His daughter’s face. Screaming. Screaming...
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Earth, High Orbit
Ascendancy Diplomatic Vessel Shining Path
A few hours before the Council Meeting.
The Shinning Path, a gleaming example of the artful and sleek design of Ascendancy Engineering. Appearance over practicality as they say. The towering ship hanged over high orbit of Earth, the beating heart of the Solar Kingdom and had been for the past several days as they awaited the arrival of the other participants of the meeting.
All the while, The Ascendancy's Ambassador, an aged member of the stalky Nassu species, Aldir Moti, had begun preparations for the meeting as he was walking calmly through the hallway leading straight to the doors to the shuttle bay, flanked on both sides by two pairs of guards. His clothing consisted of a bright white suit covered by a white robe with golden markings placed over it. As the group approached the doors, the Ambassador's aide, a young human female by the name of Natasha Zaamil waited by the door. "Glad you can join us, Zaamil." Aldir said.
"Wouldn't miss it." She replied. "Heard good things about Earth, gotta get in touch with my ancestral roots and all before the meeting."
"That would be best. Come, the shuttle's waiting." Before long the group entered the sliding doors, moving through the small corridor leading to the shuttle. fortunately for the Ambassador, the shuttle proved to be much more roomy as he and his aide took their seats, the guards placing themselves in front of the pair. "Departing in three...two...one.." the pilot said as the ship trembling for but a brief moment as it emerged from the Shining Path, and started it's path towards the orbiting Starport, sparking with life and surrounded by hundreds of ships, be they commercial and trading vessels, local military, or that of the visiting delegates from other nations.
Ascendancy Diplomatic Vessel Shining Path
A few hours before the Council Meeting.
The Shinning Path, a gleaming example of the artful and sleek design of Ascendancy Engineering. Appearance over practicality as they say. The towering ship hanged over high orbit of Earth, the beating heart of the Solar Kingdom and had been for the past several days as they awaited the arrival of the other participants of the meeting.
All the while, The Ascendancy's Ambassador, an aged member of the stalky Nassu species, Aldir Moti, had begun preparations for the meeting as he was walking calmly through the hallway leading straight to the doors to the shuttle bay, flanked on both sides by two pairs of guards. His clothing consisted of a bright white suit covered by a white robe with golden markings placed over it. As the group approached the doors, the Ambassador's aide, a young human female by the name of Natasha Zaamil waited by the door. "Glad you can join us, Zaamil." Aldir said.
"Wouldn't miss it." She replied. "Heard good things about Earth, gotta get in touch with my ancestral roots and all before the meeting."
"That would be best. Come, the shuttle's waiting." Before long the group entered the sliding doors, moving through the small corridor leading to the shuttle. fortunately for the Ambassador, the shuttle proved to be much more roomy as he and his aide took their seats, the guards placing themselves in front of the pair. "Departing in three...two...one.." the pilot said as the ship trembling for but a brief moment as it emerged from the Shining Path, and started it's path towards the orbiting Starport, sparking with life and surrounded by hundreds of ships, be they commercial and trading vessels, local military, or that of the visiting delegates from other nations.
Monkeypants
Member
Seen
1 yr ago
The Union
Planet PCM-441, Neveros arm...
Near the "Wo region"
Rumors always persisted about the Wo and many simply thought they a figment of the imagination. Did the government really know them? Were they actually friendly trading partners that the government portrayed them to be? those were among many questions asked that lived on the eastern frontier, frontier people that found it strange that didn't see as many Wo as they expected to, living right on the border and all. Some of those who asked and wondered, would take it upon themselves to investigate. They would find what ever warp capable ship they could get, fly to the closest major world near the Wo region, Ithinia and then disappear. Government forces would always respond with the same crap, "It must have lost trajectory during a jump and hit a moon." or some other excuse that maybe centuries ago when light speed was new, would work. Maybe local authorities didn't care? I mean, space milk cartons have pictures of people on the side all the time and nothing ever happens except a new picture a while later.
Some even called those cartons a "person of the month". A horrid but fitting epitaph for those who would slowly be forgotten.
-------------
It was a dark interior that sat a young crash rescuer and investigator, Nathan.. a descendant from a long line of Union aligned human families. He was fair in the face and very fit for his age of thirty nine. He was soft spoken most of the time but had no problem showing authority when the situation demanded it. He sat with his soft spoken demeanor on a small rescue ship, the Poyu.. a very small ship. He didn't care about the cramped living style or that it was pretty much a sausage fest, well most aliens didn't really have that part but it wasn't anything he could use. He -had- a girlfriend at one point that lived pretty close. A human like girl named Maysi, a half human, half Esmosian which pretty much equated to a light green skin due to the photosynthetic nature of her tree-like father. "Plant F---er" was her mom's title. She was damned hot though, in the right light.
As he sat staring at a holographic PDA, a deep masculine voice sounded from beside him, "Nate, you think she is alive?"
Nate turned his eyes from the PDA, now towards a Trilari who was sincerely caring about the situation, "No.. they ran scans when the crash was initially found."
The Trilari nodded, "But they didn't physically check." it said with a glint of hope.
A faint forced smile crossed Nate's lips, "At least i'll know what happened to her."
Five hours passed as the small ship passed by a number of corporate owned warships. It was customary for company's to guard their investments but they were still subject to the nations laws, that any wreck is to be officially investigated by federal employees. All Nate could do was smile, where were these big guns when this ship was downed. But when they arrived, it was quite different.
After getting pressure suits ready and the various equipment needed to perform the operation, The Trilari was first out of the ship followed by two jellyfish like creatures and another being that was part machine called a Hobir. Nate was last out, hefting a large crate nearly his size. It wasn't long before a makeshift camp was set up, lights shined along the hull and magnetic cables were ran from the hull of the wreck onto self drilling ground spikes to keep the ship from any movement. The thing was huge but low gravity and no atmosphere meant no chances were to be taken.
The Hobir lit a welding torch and began cutting the door open while the Trilari and Nate activated their magnetic boots to patrol the hull. That gruff masculine voice sounded again, "No external damage except from the impact... what the world happened here."
Nate shook his head, "I'm sure we will find out once that door is opened."
A few more hours passed before the entirety of the external site was locked down. Scans were completed of the outside, no strange energy readings from weapons fire was detected, no damage from kinetic weapons... and this wasn't some just leisure ship, it was a sanctioned science vessel from a well known exploration group. To be taken down like this.. there was no distress call, no last minute transmissions. It was here one minute, then just found.. found sticking out of a rock by a lucky mineral scanning probe.
The door was finally breached and the group slowly moved in. There were bodies just around the place.. no discernible marks except for mild strangle marks around a few necks but upon investigation, they had died from asphyxiation. It made sense for the neck marks, people grabbing their neck in a desperate attempt to get some atmosphere into their lungs. This all happened so fast too, no sign of a struggle to get to life support equipment. The Trilari frowned as it moved it's light from body to body, "This isn't right."
Nate shook his head and continued through the craft before finally reaching the bridge. He examined the computer and slowly hooked up his PDA to it. "No Data found?" he said, staring confusingly into the blank screen of his PDA. "That's not how this works..." he muttered before disconnecting his device. He searched for a backup unit and to his luck, it existed, and was already disconnected from the main computer. His device was synced again.
To his shock, the PDA went crazy... flashing and starting to send out signals as if it were to interface with anything wireless. Nate quickly powered it down tore off the wireless adapter on its side. "What the hell was that?" the Trilari said, only witnessing Nate's assault on the device.
"Something seemed to infect the PDA!" Nate said, still showing shock and surprise. "It was trying to interface with my suit."
More time passed as the group slowly pushed the bodies into caskets and lined them outside for retrieval. The corporation that owned the ship was careful but quick at recovering the bodies, now they had the bodies they had to figure out how to explain the deaths. It didn't matter to Nate though as five crew members were nowhere to be found, Maysi included. The breakthrough came when they saw that all of the escape vehicles had been launched and from thermal dating and other methods, determined they had all launched at the same time. What ever happened was efficient like no other and was obvious to him now..
It just shut the whole ship down.
The Trilari smirked as the last few pieces of information was collected and the computer core removed for study. As the five rescuers moved aboard their ship with a shielded case for the electronic devices, corporate salvage teams began to land. It was their show now.
As for Nate, his work was just beginning.. what the hell could just shut down an entire ship. bypassing every safety that it had installed. And if it was in Wo space, did the Wo attack? if so then why? This was Nathans skill though, digging through the haystack to find the needle and he had even more motivation than the fat checks he received from his employers, but now the girl he cares about was still missing. All the while, he couldn't help but look to the "east", with hope of finding Maysi...
------------------------------------
In orbit of Earth
Along with all of the other representatives from the council member nations, Qo slowly made his way onto the station. He was the chief diplomat from the Union, a Obera male standing an imposing four foot two. His tiny footsteps echoed to nothing but mice as Po maneuvered through the station to reach the council. Beside him was a tall Esmosian named Brakko, a creature that was probably as close to a tree as one could get. Humans called them 'Ents'. Lovingly of course.
"Ambassador Qo, do you have everything you need?" Brakko asked politely.
"Yes Brakko. Thank you." Qo said respectfully.
After a few paces, Qo stopped and turned to Brakko, "I did forget something..."
Brakko nodded and held out his hand, holding Qo's PDA. "I saw that you had forgot this."
Qo's eyes came as close to glazing over as a Obera's could. "Why didn't you just hand it to me earlier?"
Brakko retracted his hand, "You do not need it then? I can place it back inside the shuttle."
Qo snapped his hand out, grasping the device before Brakko could retreat with it. Then shot Brakko and smug look. "A great way to start my day. Nearly duped by a tree."
Brakko smiled as the two made their way towards the council chambers.
1x Like
Natsucooldude
Banned
Seen
7 yrs ago
@SillyGoy
Earth, a few hours after the arrival of the ambassador of Wo.
Barrier-2 splashed around in a bathtub made of gilded porcelain and decorated with beautiful patterns of color. Today, he had discovered his skin was apparantly easily irritated by the new silk-covered furniture of the guest quarters. Luckily, a temporary arrangement had been made, and so there he was with a piece of bathroom furniture hastily moved into his quarters.
He had been informed of the supposed presence of an ambassador of the enigmatic Wo. What the qulseoc had not expected was for the envoy to actually show themself. Most serene one is what she liked to be referred to as. It sounded more like some sort of theater character than a real office, but then such idiosynatric names weren't unheard of amongst the less advanced species.
He looked at the human scribe slowly writing out the words as he dictated them. Why they couldn't simply type it out on a computer was beyond the qulseoc. Still, the hand-written script gave him more time to think about his words, and he did admit it looked more aesthetically pleasing.
“Now sir, if you would just... sign this letter with your formal signature” The scribe meekly asked of the dripping cephalopod he had endured for the last hour or so. He offered a pen to the qulseoc, who seemed to take a moment to decide which tentacle was the best at writing. The qulseoc's script formed a stark contrast to the curved and stylized diplomatic script of the human scribe, simple stark letters drawn in straight lines, relatively simple characters that nevertheless conveyed complex meaning and nuance to those proficient in reading it.
The letter was enveloped. Barrier-2 sealed it with a wax seal and handed it off to the scribe for delivery.
@Fabulous Knight
Qulseoc military command. A few hours after the incident in the kurtiye council
An old and wizened qulseoc floated in front of a holographic projector array, barracuda-1, the overseer of the qulseoc military industry and supreme commander of the military forces, had called an emergency meeting. The incident he was about to discuss was not of a nature that warranted assembling the savarog top brass over. Such things were reserved for times of war. An untested prospect since the unification of armies under his reforms, and something he intended to keep that way.
Still, the current crisis in Kurtiye presented quite an attractive oppurtunity. After all, if nobles were getting slain in the council itself, it was a good sign that the situation was escelating out of control. As good an excuse as any to deploy a peacekeeper force. With a low ring sounding through the waters around him, the meeting was signalled to begin. Right on schedulde, his direct subordinates were projected in front of him, all of them were worked up all orange. It seemed they were excited about this unexpected turn of events as much as he was. “My esteemed colleagues, as you know from the pre-meeting documentation, I have called you all to assembly so we can make an informed decision as to how we will deal with the apparant escelation of the Kurts' civil war.
“Well overseer, as we have already determined, it would not be in the interests of our nation were the current faction of peaceful reformers to gain control... By the depths sir, next thing you know they'll be attempting to build a democracy!” As always, Jellyfish-4 had started the meeting by proclaiming his opinion loudly. Had barracuda-1 not been underwater, he would have audibly sighed at his subordinate's brashness. “Yes J-4, I know, as usual you are simply stating what everyone should know already. Let us not focus on the problem but on the solution. I already have a pretty final plan ready, but as we all know, peer review is important.
Tentacles danced over the control panels. A strategic map visible to all attendees materialized from the vast stores of tactical data. “As you can all see gentlemen, we have no direct border with kurtiye, and should thus have no real interest in keeping the war from escelating there. However, given that none of the neighbouring nations have seen it fit to act in a timely and affirmative manner, I propose we send a megalodon carrier equipped with peacekeeper drones to stabilize the area. After all, no one else seems particularly interested.
“Sir, with all due respect, will the other council allow this?” another of the system overseers asked. “A good question” Barracuda replied, immediately following up this observation with an explenation.” Of course we will not simply deploy a taskforce through the territories of our neighbours, such would be a provocation that would bring us nothing but grief. Instead, we will politely offer our assistance to the local revolutionaries in stabilizing the conquered regions and keeping some semblance of order in the warzones. Our participation will be purely for humanitarian reasons of course, even if our opponents would call us the whole gamut of insults... Have any of you gentlemen been keeping a tally of each insult hurled at us like I suggested as a jest? I've always wondered how many times some overprivileged human teenager calls me a warmongering plate of calamari on a yearly basis.
No real further opposition was offered to the plan, and so soon a message buzzed across FTL communications beacons, from one side of the galaxy to the other.
@Monkeypants
Artificial research sattelite Horve-3 delta. Wo border system Horve.
A lowly sattelite overseer was flitting about excitedly. The breakthrough she had been waiting for ers entire life had presented itself on a silver platter. Coral-3 had always believed in the existence of the Wo, and today that conviction had been confirmed. She had dropped everything to participate in the extranet media storm when the wo's ambassador had revealed herself, and her subordinates, all believers as well, were allowed to decrepate their duties to watch alongside her. In all the commotion however, a smaller but equally important news item had also popped up.
Coral had been the overseer of this facility ever since he had completed her apprenticeship under her esteemed mentor. The woman had always been supportive of her desire to uncover the secrets of the enigmatic wo. As she had been a planet overeer with a pretty spotless record it had been easy for her to commision the creation of an artificial sattelite facility for her pupil. That had been fifteen years ago, since that day, coral had been scouring all available data for patterns and watched the border tirelessly. Waiting for the one slip-up, the one mistake the wo might make that would allow her to break through their veil of secrecy. That slip-up had been made in the form of a wreck, discovered by a mining probe. The wo illumination society, a loose network of extranet-dwellers coral often discussed with had very quickly determined it was one of the vessels marked as having disappeared in wo space.
It was for this reason that the exciteable qulseoc was now composing a message to the union's government. Switching back to the extranet to read up on who exactly she needed to adress her message to. She was quite a keen mind however, so after a few hours of writing, re-writing, and partially plagiarizing past letters from ambassador barrier-2 she sent a message to the inner sphere union's vast bureacratic system.
Earth, a few hours after the arrival of the ambassador of Wo.
Barrier-2 splashed around in a bathtub made of gilded porcelain and decorated with beautiful patterns of color. Today, he had discovered his skin was apparantly easily irritated by the new silk-covered furniture of the guest quarters. Luckily, a temporary arrangement had been made, and so there he was with a piece of bathroom furniture hastily moved into his quarters.
He had been informed of the supposed presence of an ambassador of the enigmatic Wo. What the qulseoc had not expected was for the envoy to actually show themself. Most serene one is what she liked to be referred to as. It sounded more like some sort of theater character than a real office, but then such idiosynatric names weren't unheard of amongst the less advanced species.
He looked at the human scribe slowly writing out the words as he dictated them. Why they couldn't simply type it out on a computer was beyond the qulseoc. Still, the hand-written script gave him more time to think about his words, and he did admit it looked more aesthetically pleasing.
“Now sir, if you would just... sign this letter with your formal signature” The scribe meekly asked of the dripping cephalopod he had endured for the last hour or so. He offered a pen to the qulseoc, who seemed to take a moment to decide which tentacle was the best at writing. The qulseoc's script formed a stark contrast to the curved and stylized diplomatic script of the human scribe, simple stark letters drawn in straight lines, relatively simple characters that nevertheless conveyed complex meaning and nuance to those proficient in reading it.
The letter was enveloped. Barrier-2 sealed it with a wax seal and handed it off to the scribe for delivery.
Greetings, representative of wo. I, insofar as I can speak for the rest of the council, hereby welcome you and your species into the interstellar community. As a man of few words, let me skip to the purpose of this diplomatic writing.
Attached to this letter will be a list of qulseoc, ordered chronologically, who have disappeared without a trace in or near the region of space that you have indicated as your territory. As citizens of our technocracy, they enjoy all legal rights and protections that our juicidal system allows them. Seeing as your arrival here has confirmed the existence of your race. I hereby hold you ,representative of the wo, accountable for what I can only call unlawful imprisonment, or worse, execution of innocent Qulseoc citizens.
I have decided to present to you an ultimatum. Unless given a timely response concerning this matter, I , alongside the other council member nations bordering your territory, will adress this issue during the council meeting proper.
I hope you see the wisdom of resolving this manner through faster channels than the bureacratic swamp of the council, so that our respective peoples can engage in diplomatic relatonships without this matter looming in the distance like a brewing storm.
Best regards
Barrier-2. Council Delegate of the qulseoc technocracy.
Attached to this letter will be a list of qulseoc, ordered chronologically, who have disappeared without a trace in or near the region of space that you have indicated as your territory. As citizens of our technocracy, they enjoy all legal rights and protections that our juicidal system allows them. Seeing as your arrival here has confirmed the existence of your race. I hereby hold you ,representative of the wo, accountable for what I can only call unlawful imprisonment, or worse, execution of innocent Qulseoc citizens.
I have decided to present to you an ultimatum. Unless given a timely response concerning this matter, I , alongside the other council member nations bordering your territory, will adress this issue during the council meeting proper.
I hope you see the wisdom of resolving this manner through faster channels than the bureacratic swamp of the council, so that our respective peoples can engage in diplomatic relatonships without this matter looming in the distance like a brewing storm.
Best regards
Barrier-2. Council Delegate of the qulseoc technocracy.
@Fabulous Knight
Qulseoc military command. A few hours after the incident in the kurtiye council
An old and wizened qulseoc floated in front of a holographic projector array, barracuda-1, the overseer of the qulseoc military industry and supreme commander of the military forces, had called an emergency meeting. The incident he was about to discuss was not of a nature that warranted assembling the savarog top brass over. Such things were reserved for times of war. An untested prospect since the unification of armies under his reforms, and something he intended to keep that way.
Still, the current crisis in Kurtiye presented quite an attractive oppurtunity. After all, if nobles were getting slain in the council itself, it was a good sign that the situation was escelating out of control. As good an excuse as any to deploy a peacekeeper force. With a low ring sounding through the waters around him, the meeting was signalled to begin. Right on schedulde, his direct subordinates were projected in front of him, all of them were worked up all orange. It seemed they were excited about this unexpected turn of events as much as he was. “My esteemed colleagues, as you know from the pre-meeting documentation, I have called you all to assembly so we can make an informed decision as to how we will deal with the apparant escelation of the Kurts' civil war.
“Well overseer, as we have already determined, it would not be in the interests of our nation were the current faction of peaceful reformers to gain control... By the depths sir, next thing you know they'll be attempting to build a democracy!” As always, Jellyfish-4 had started the meeting by proclaiming his opinion loudly. Had barracuda-1 not been underwater, he would have audibly sighed at his subordinate's brashness. “Yes J-4, I know, as usual you are simply stating what everyone should know already. Let us not focus on the problem but on the solution. I already have a pretty final plan ready, but as we all know, peer review is important.
Tentacles danced over the control panels. A strategic map visible to all attendees materialized from the vast stores of tactical data. “As you can all see gentlemen, we have no direct border with kurtiye, and should thus have no real interest in keeping the war from escelating there. However, given that none of the neighbouring nations have seen it fit to act in a timely and affirmative manner, I propose we send a megalodon carrier equipped with peacekeeper drones to stabilize the area. After all, no one else seems particularly interested.
“Sir, with all due respect, will the other council allow this?” another of the system overseers asked. “A good question” Barracuda replied, immediately following up this observation with an explenation.” Of course we will not simply deploy a taskforce through the territories of our neighbours, such would be a provocation that would bring us nothing but grief. Instead, we will politely offer our assistance to the local revolutionaries in stabilizing the conquered regions and keeping some semblance of order in the warzones. Our participation will be purely for humanitarian reasons of course, even if our opponents would call us the whole gamut of insults... Have any of you gentlemen been keeping a tally of each insult hurled at us like I suggested as a jest? I've always wondered how many times some overprivileged human teenager calls me a warmongering plate of calamari on a yearly basis.
No real further opposition was offered to the plan, and so soon a message buzzed across FTL communications beacons, from one side of the galaxy to the other.
Greetings, Ozgerssary forces of kurtiye. As those of you capable of following galactic news may know, we, the Qulseoc, have made no secret of our support to your just cause. As recent incidents in the very council of your empire show, security in your region of space is utterly abysmal. We therefore offer to assist you in keeping the peace behind the frontlines with a dedicated taskforce of peacekeeper drones and the personnel to support the deployment of these. Should you choose to accept this offer, we would ask of you that you do so in such a manner that the nations seperating us will not be confused by our intent.
We await a swift response. High regards. Supreme commander barracuda-2
We await a swift response. High regards. Supreme commander barracuda-2
@Monkeypants
Artificial research sattelite Horve-3 delta. Wo border system Horve.
A lowly sattelite overseer was flitting about excitedly. The breakthrough she had been waiting for ers entire life had presented itself on a silver platter. Coral-3 had always believed in the existence of the Wo, and today that conviction had been confirmed. She had dropped everything to participate in the extranet media storm when the wo's ambassador had revealed herself, and her subordinates, all believers as well, were allowed to decrepate their duties to watch alongside her. In all the commotion however, a smaller but equally important news item had also popped up.
Coral had been the overseer of this facility ever since he had completed her apprenticeship under her esteemed mentor. The woman had always been supportive of her desire to uncover the secrets of the enigmatic wo. As she had been a planet overeer with a pretty spotless record it had been easy for her to commision the creation of an artificial sattelite facility for her pupil. That had been fifteen years ago, since that day, coral had been scouring all available data for patterns and watched the border tirelessly. Waiting for the one slip-up, the one mistake the wo might make that would allow her to break through their veil of secrecy. That slip-up had been made in the form of a wreck, discovered by a mining probe. The wo illumination society, a loose network of extranet-dwellers coral often discussed with had very quickly determined it was one of the vessels marked as having disappeared in wo space.
It was for this reason that the exciteable qulseoc was now composing a message to the union's government. Switching back to the extranet to read up on who exactly she needed to adress her message to. She was quite a keen mind however, so after a few hours of writing, re-writing, and partially plagiarizing past letters from ambassador barrier-2 she sent a message to the inner sphere union's vast bureacratic system.
Greetings to whomever is in charge of the investigation of the crash site colloqually referred to by the public as the wo wreck.
I write this letter to you to offer my assistance in the investigation of this wreck. As my mentor can attest, I have spent my entire adult life up until now looking into disappearances of this exact nature. My expertise would doubtlessly be a valuable asset in your investigation, and any breakthroughs reached as a result of this matter might just be the leverage needed for the technocracy's higher echelons to finally see the wo for the threat they really are.
Yours truly. Sattelite overseer Coral-3
I write this letter to you to offer my assistance in the investigation of this wreck. As my mentor can attest, I have spent my entire adult life up until now looking into disappearances of this exact nature. My expertise would doubtlessly be a valuable asset in your investigation, and any breakthroughs reached as a result of this matter might just be the leverage needed for the technocracy's higher echelons to finally see the wo for the threat they really are.
Yours truly. Sattelite overseer Coral-3
2x Like
Revolutionary Kurtiye
World of Aishka
Two Months Ago
Aishka, a backwater, seemly unimportant world along the fringes of Kurtiye Space, and yet this world and its system will play host to one of the more fiercer campaigns in the Civil War, and for the Ascendancy, where they have dedicated most of their expeditionary force in support of their allies, the Young Kurts. Due to the low manpower of the Young Kurts, the Ascendancy was kind enough to provide the ground troops necessary to even the odds against the overwhelming numbers of the Ozgerssary. The planet and the system itself had been under the iron grip of the Ozgerssaries since the beginning of the war, and due to its location, had mostly been left alone with the exception of those rare raids. However, the leaders of the Ascendancy's 5th Expeditionary Force saw it fit to cease the defensive war they had waged with the revolutionaries and had convinced the leaders of the Young Kurts faction to follow suit. Now, the Coalition fleet launches its first offensive to retake the system.
--------------------
Aboard the Battle Carrier Exalted Wrath
Hanger Bay
Seventy-two armored troopers lined up in an orderly fashion, standing at attention as a tall imposing Nassu paced back and forth, he has gone by the name Gharz Argo. "Alright you small worms." He said in intimating, gruff gravelly voice. "We're going in along with the first wave." He paused as he pulled out a small holo-display device, it lit with life as a large holo model of Musa City appeared. "Our mission is simple: secure a beachhead for the rest of the liberation force."
Some of the more green troopers were getting nervous, excited, and eager for the fight. "Won't be a cakewalk." Gharz said. "Expect heavy resistance, the Ozgers heavily fortified the city, they'll do everything in their power to shoot us out of the skies." Within moments, the alarms started going off as the fleet was within range of the planet. "Ah, just in time...Grave Company, move out!"
"Sir, yes sir!" they replied in unison as they rushed to their seats within the several Pilgrim-class Dropships, buckling up. Once all had boarded, the Pilgrims had begun to hum to life as they prepared to jet out of the Hanger Bay, and into the fray.
Hundreds of of dropships launched from the hundred ship fleet, all diverting towards one location on the whole planet, the capital itself. The transition from space to the atmosphere was a calm moment, all the more nerve wreaking for the many occupants of the dropships. Within Gharz's ship, he held on to a small rail above him, observing his men as they mentally prepared themselves for the bloody fight ahead. In all their years serving in the 5th Expeditionary force, Grave Company, no all the force, haven't undertaken an operation of this scale in a long while. Gharz noticed one particular soldier looking very pale. "Breakfast not sitting well, jakin?" he asked jokingly.
"Sir, yes sir...." He replied weakly. "I'm not gonna make it.."
"For Grana's sake, please hold it till we hit ground." A young female soldier next him said. "
"Roger...that" Jankin replied.
The trip down continued smoothly, however that moment of peace had come to an end as they approached the city, Anti-Air emplacements placed all over the city fired all at once as they lit the skies aflame. Dropships left and right blowing into pieces or shot down as they continued their advance.
Gharz's dropship begun to tremor violently as it dodged as many shots as it could. "Hang on!" he shouted, everyone gripping tightly to their harnesses.
The dropships of Grave Company stick in close formation as they drew close to the ground. "Get ready to run for it!" the pilot shouted over the intercom. "In three...two.." In that instant, the craft roughly landed, the boarding ramp lowering down as the light entered the room, revealing a ruined city before them.
Grave Company and others had landed outside the city, the landscape was barren and rocky, perfect as cover for their approach. "We're not too far! Grave Company, move it!" Gharz ordered as his helmet covered his face as the material slide downward, they all rushed forward as the battle began. All but one of Grave Company stayed behind for but a moment. Janik weakly stepped out of the ship. "Oh thank Grana.." he said as he rushed to a bush and proceeded to...lose his breakfast.
World of Aishka
Two Months Ago
Aishka, a backwater, seemly unimportant world along the fringes of Kurtiye Space, and yet this world and its system will play host to one of the more fiercer campaigns in the Civil War, and for the Ascendancy, where they have dedicated most of their expeditionary force in support of their allies, the Young Kurts. Due to the low manpower of the Young Kurts, the Ascendancy was kind enough to provide the ground troops necessary to even the odds against the overwhelming numbers of the Ozgerssary. The planet and the system itself had been under the iron grip of the Ozgerssaries since the beginning of the war, and due to its location, had mostly been left alone with the exception of those rare raids. However, the leaders of the Ascendancy's 5th Expeditionary Force saw it fit to cease the defensive war they had waged with the revolutionaries and had convinced the leaders of the Young Kurts faction to follow suit. Now, the Coalition fleet launches its first offensive to retake the system.
--------------------
Aboard the Battle Carrier Exalted Wrath
Hanger Bay
Seventy-two armored troopers lined up in an orderly fashion, standing at attention as a tall imposing Nassu paced back and forth, he has gone by the name Gharz Argo. "Alright you small worms." He said in intimating, gruff gravelly voice. "We're going in along with the first wave." He paused as he pulled out a small holo-display device, it lit with life as a large holo model of Musa City appeared. "Our mission is simple: secure a beachhead for the rest of the liberation force."
Some of the more green troopers were getting nervous, excited, and eager for the fight. "Won't be a cakewalk." Gharz said. "Expect heavy resistance, the Ozgers heavily fortified the city, they'll do everything in their power to shoot us out of the skies." Within moments, the alarms started going off as the fleet was within range of the planet. "Ah, just in time...Grave Company, move out!"
"Sir, yes sir!" they replied in unison as they rushed to their seats within the several Pilgrim-class Dropships, buckling up. Once all had boarded, the Pilgrims had begun to hum to life as they prepared to jet out of the Hanger Bay, and into the fray.
Hundreds of of dropships launched from the hundred ship fleet, all diverting towards one location on the whole planet, the capital itself. The transition from space to the atmosphere was a calm moment, all the more nerve wreaking for the many occupants of the dropships. Within Gharz's ship, he held on to a small rail above him, observing his men as they mentally prepared themselves for the bloody fight ahead. In all their years serving in the 5th Expeditionary force, Grave Company, no all the force, haven't undertaken an operation of this scale in a long while. Gharz noticed one particular soldier looking very pale. "Breakfast not sitting well, jakin?" he asked jokingly.
"Sir, yes sir...." He replied weakly. "I'm not gonna make it.."
"For Grana's sake, please hold it till we hit ground." A young female soldier next him said. "
"Roger...that" Jankin replied.
The trip down continued smoothly, however that moment of peace had come to an end as they approached the city, Anti-Air emplacements placed all over the city fired all at once as they lit the skies aflame. Dropships left and right blowing into pieces or shot down as they continued their advance.
Gharz's dropship begun to tremor violently as it dodged as many shots as it could. "Hang on!" he shouted, everyone gripping tightly to their harnesses.
The dropships of Grave Company stick in close formation as they drew close to the ground. "Get ready to run for it!" the pilot shouted over the intercom. "In three...two.." In that instant, the craft roughly landed, the boarding ramp lowering down as the light entered the room, revealing a ruined city before them.
Grave Company and others had landed outside the city, the landscape was barren and rocky, perfect as cover for their approach. "We're not too far! Grave Company, move it!" Gharz ordered as his helmet covered his face as the material slide downward, they all rushed forward as the battle began. All but one of Grave Company stayed behind for but a moment. Janik weakly stepped out of the ship. "Oh thank Grana.." he said as he rushed to a bush and proceeded to...lose his breakfast.
2x Like
SillyGoy Goius Sillius
Member
Seen
2 yrs ago
THE HARMONY
TERRAN STARPORT
AMBASSADORS' QUARTERS
The Honor Guard had taken positions at intervals by the doorways in the corridor, their frames so massive that if one of them bothered to look up, his metal scalp would scrape the ceiling. All of them were standing rigidly at attention, spears held stiffly and mechanically still, except for the Captain, who walked with Wen Ten Xei. He trailed behind her flowing red dress. The size difference between them was such that, where Wen took two steps, the Captain made only one. Step, stop, step. Step, stop, step. Though his plasteel-alloy joints could handle the gait well, such an unfamiliar way of shifting weight caused them to groan.
Before Wen was a female human orderly with blonde hair and a sharp-looking attire. The Captain noted her anxiousness, even though she held it well as she opened the double-doors at the far end of the hall. Within was a dwelling of luxury, of white walls with golden filigree, with a canopy bed whose size could satisfy even the greediest kings and queens. The floor was draped with a carpet sporting the most illustrious weaves, and the large panoramic window at one end featured an incredible view of Terra, Sol and Luna.
"Your room, ma'am," said the human. Wen smiled gratefully as she entered. She took her surroundings in with bright eyes. Clearly, she was pleased.
The orderly spoke up again. "Would you like to me to show you around, ma'am?"
"No need," her voice was like blooming flowers in the spring. It was no wonder she was the Most Serene one, thought the Captain. "I recognize the implements here - bed, television, window; door to the showers. Like I said before, our races' needs are not so different, Miss August. I have also studied your culture via your Internet beforehand."
The human seemed to flush at the gentle rejection. "I see. Please call me if you need anything, ma'am. If you will excuse me..."
Wen nodded her head. "Of course, Miss August." And so she was away, closing the door behind her, leaving only Wen and the Captain within the former's new quarters. The silence was palpable but not at all awkward as the Most Serene One walked around, fingering the bookshelves and examining various appliances from the mini-fridge to the personal computer.
"How fascinating," she said, in the Wo tongue. "The similarities between their current and our past technologies are striking. You could say that Humans and Wo are the same, save for the color of our skins, and their lack of two limbs."
It was good that he was physically incapable of doing so, otherwise there would be a look of disgust on the Captain's face. It irked him for Wen, a beautiful woman, to be saying such xenophilic things. It seemed that for all things human, there was a childlike curiosity from her. Now she was at the panoramic window, staring at the ugly, bruised orb that the Humans called their homeworld. What did Wen see in them that the Captain couldn't? In all things, humans were imperfect. And though all beings were deserving of at least a nominal amount of respect, the woman before him went far beyond that. Again, it irked him.
"Captain," she said, without looking at him. "What do you think of the Humans thus far?"
He grunted what was supposed to be a chuckle. "My Lady, I think they are a race that yet clings to mortality and that their shortsightedness prevents them from moving past it."
Her silken hair fell softly on her shoulders as she looked back at him. Her exquisitely crafted golden irises held a stare with the featureless blue lights that stood for him as a pair of eyes. "Is that so?"
"Yes, my Lady."
Wen's smile was mysterious as she turned back to the celestial view. The sunlight outlined her curvaceous form and made her radiant. "I agree, they are rather shortsighted."
That just raised more questions. "My Lady," he said, "fully realizing my impertinence, I must ask - why, then, if you find them so shortsighted, you express such a fondness for them?"
"I see them as children, Captain. Young children playing in the hills of Old Khanfu, with dirtied faces and chests full of energy. But in time they will grow up to be a mature race. I see potential in them, in that they will become far greater than what they currently are today. They will soon realize the futility of their current way of existence and begin to want to uplift themselves instead of their way of warfare. They might even found a Harmony of their own."
"They are strange beings," she added. "Have you perused their Pathways - what they call the 'Internet?'"
"Not yet," the Captain said. "I don't see why I have to."
"You should," she turned around to face him now. "Their history is full of old wars, times where a single command could have caused their own extinction, and forgotten glories by arrogant men who thought themselves gods and that their exploits would be remembered forever. In a way, humans remind me of our past selves. But more shortsighted, more narrow-minded, far bolder and extremely spontaneous - if we compared our equivalent conflicts you would see that theirs are orders of magnitude more destructive. It is indeed as if they think nothing of bloodshed or of carnage, or of when to stop. They've always put their wisdom into the sword and the coin, while we put ours into our hearts and our spirits. It seems to me that they are a masochistic race whose philosophies never center around joy, but misery. They have so much potential, but all of it is squandered. For example, do you see that?"
Her open hand was directed towards a bookshelf. "Wood and paper. I only see them in Simulations where the Master has a taste for the Old Times."
"Exactly. There is absolutely no reason for books when you have these," and she retrieved a dataslate from a nearby end table. "A curious thing. It reacts to my touch. They have devices like these and still opt for books. Their methods of communication are incredible yet they still call their leader 'King.' Funny, is it not?"
"They are rather funny barbarians."
"I agree fully on that. But barbarians can learn and eventually achieve enlightenment, can they not?"
"I suppose," he finally conceded.
Suddenly, there was a rap on the door. The Captain opened it, and there again was the human orderly, holding what appeared to be a letter, in a paper envelope, sealed by a wax icon and its contents undoubtedly written in ink. The Guard stepped aside to let her in.
"Most Serene One," she said. "A letter, from Quelsoc Ambassador."
"Thank you very much," Wen said in flawless English. She undid the seal and unfolded the paper within. Judging by the rather few lines of ink, the Captain estimated it to be a short message. Yet what it said was enough to make her brow furrow slightly.
"Dear me, what a heavy matter to take up on when I've just arrived. Miss August, would you mind writing my reply?"
"Not at all, ma'am."
@Natsucooldude
TERRAN STARPORT
AMBASSADORS' QUARTERS
The Honor Guard had taken positions at intervals by the doorways in the corridor, their frames so massive that if one of them bothered to look up, his metal scalp would scrape the ceiling. All of them were standing rigidly at attention, spears held stiffly and mechanically still, except for the Captain, who walked with Wen Ten Xei. He trailed behind her flowing red dress. The size difference between them was such that, where Wen took two steps, the Captain made only one. Step, stop, step. Step, stop, step. Though his plasteel-alloy joints could handle the gait well, such an unfamiliar way of shifting weight caused them to groan.
Before Wen was a female human orderly with blonde hair and a sharp-looking attire. The Captain noted her anxiousness, even though she held it well as she opened the double-doors at the far end of the hall. Within was a dwelling of luxury, of white walls with golden filigree, with a canopy bed whose size could satisfy even the greediest kings and queens. The floor was draped with a carpet sporting the most illustrious weaves, and the large panoramic window at one end featured an incredible view of Terra, Sol and Luna.
"Your room, ma'am," said the human. Wen smiled gratefully as she entered. She took her surroundings in with bright eyes. Clearly, she was pleased.
The orderly spoke up again. "Would you like to me to show you around, ma'am?"
"No need," her voice was like blooming flowers in the spring. It was no wonder she was the Most Serene one, thought the Captain. "I recognize the implements here - bed, television, window; door to the showers. Like I said before, our races' needs are not so different, Miss August. I have also studied your culture via your Internet beforehand."
The human seemed to flush at the gentle rejection. "I see. Please call me if you need anything, ma'am. If you will excuse me..."
Wen nodded her head. "Of course, Miss August." And so she was away, closing the door behind her, leaving only Wen and the Captain within the former's new quarters. The silence was palpable but not at all awkward as the Most Serene One walked around, fingering the bookshelves and examining various appliances from the mini-fridge to the personal computer.
"How fascinating," she said, in the Wo tongue. "The similarities between their current and our past technologies are striking. You could say that Humans and Wo are the same, save for the color of our skins, and their lack of two limbs."
It was good that he was physically incapable of doing so, otherwise there would be a look of disgust on the Captain's face. It irked him for Wen, a beautiful woman, to be saying such xenophilic things. It seemed that for all things human, there was a childlike curiosity from her. Now she was at the panoramic window, staring at the ugly, bruised orb that the Humans called their homeworld. What did Wen see in them that the Captain couldn't? In all things, humans were imperfect. And though all beings were deserving of at least a nominal amount of respect, the woman before him went far beyond that. Again, it irked him.
"Captain," she said, without looking at him. "What do you think of the Humans thus far?"
He grunted what was supposed to be a chuckle. "My Lady, I think they are a race that yet clings to mortality and that their shortsightedness prevents them from moving past it."
Her silken hair fell softly on her shoulders as she looked back at him. Her exquisitely crafted golden irises held a stare with the featureless blue lights that stood for him as a pair of eyes. "Is that so?"
"Yes, my Lady."
Wen's smile was mysterious as she turned back to the celestial view. The sunlight outlined her curvaceous form and made her radiant. "I agree, they are rather shortsighted."
That just raised more questions. "My Lady," he said, "fully realizing my impertinence, I must ask - why, then, if you find them so shortsighted, you express such a fondness for them?"
"I see them as children, Captain. Young children playing in the hills of Old Khanfu, with dirtied faces and chests full of energy. But in time they will grow up to be a mature race. I see potential in them, in that they will become far greater than what they currently are today. They will soon realize the futility of their current way of existence and begin to want to uplift themselves instead of their way of warfare. They might even found a Harmony of their own."
"They are strange beings," she added. "Have you perused their Pathways - what they call the 'Internet?'"
"Not yet," the Captain said. "I don't see why I have to."
"You should," she turned around to face him now. "Their history is full of old wars, times where a single command could have caused their own extinction, and forgotten glories by arrogant men who thought themselves gods and that their exploits would be remembered forever. In a way, humans remind me of our past selves. But more shortsighted, more narrow-minded, far bolder and extremely spontaneous - if we compared our equivalent conflicts you would see that theirs are orders of magnitude more destructive. It is indeed as if they think nothing of bloodshed or of carnage, or of when to stop. They've always put their wisdom into the sword and the coin, while we put ours into our hearts and our spirits. It seems to me that they are a masochistic race whose philosophies never center around joy, but misery. They have so much potential, but all of it is squandered. For example, do you see that?"
Her open hand was directed towards a bookshelf. "Wood and paper. I only see them in Simulations where the Master has a taste for the Old Times."
"Exactly. There is absolutely no reason for books when you have these," and she retrieved a dataslate from a nearby end table. "A curious thing. It reacts to my touch. They have devices like these and still opt for books. Their methods of communication are incredible yet they still call their leader 'King.' Funny, is it not?"
"They are rather funny barbarians."
"I agree fully on that. But barbarians can learn and eventually achieve enlightenment, can they not?"
"I suppose," he finally conceded.
Suddenly, there was a rap on the door. The Captain opened it, and there again was the human orderly, holding what appeared to be a letter, in a paper envelope, sealed by a wax icon and its contents undoubtedly written in ink. The Guard stepped aside to let her in.
"Most Serene One," she said. "A letter, from Quelsoc Ambassador."
"Thank you very much," Wen said in flawless English. She undid the seal and unfolded the paper within. Judging by the rather few lines of ink, the Captain estimated it to be a short message. Yet what it said was enough to make her brow furrow slightly.
"Dear me, what a heavy matter to take up on when I've just arrived. Miss August, would you mind writing my reply?"
"Not at all, ma'am."
Good tidings, Barrier-2.
Firstly, let me thank you on behalf of my people on your kind words of acceptance. This is the first time my race has actively reached outwards to the other nations of the Galaxy, and your noble Technocracy has become foremost in recognizing us with the letter you just sent.
With regards to the disappearances of your citizens within Harmonic space, this is a matter that does not pertain exclusively to the Quelsoc Technocracy. I, as the representative of my people, intend to bring this matter up during the coming Council to prevent any misunderstandings about the entire affair. During that time, I will be honest in answering any questions you might have.
With the truest sincerity,
Wen Ten Xei, the Most Serene One
Firstly, let me thank you on behalf of my people on your kind words of acceptance. This is the first time my race has actively reached outwards to the other nations of the Galaxy, and your noble Technocracy has become foremost in recognizing us with the letter you just sent.
With regards to the disappearances of your citizens within Harmonic space, this is a matter that does not pertain exclusively to the Quelsoc Technocracy. I, as the representative of my people, intend to bring this matter up during the coming Council to prevent any misunderstandings about the entire affair. During that time, I will be honest in answering any questions you might have.
With the truest sincerity,
Wen Ten Xei, the Most Serene One
@Natsucooldude
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Monkeypants
Member
Seen
1 yr ago
So as I'm writing, I have some background music playing and this comes on.. I mean wtf awesome.
youtube.com/watch?v=0k_26XhSjzw
youtube.com/watch?v=0k_26XhSjzw
Union news network
The Galaxy's most watched station, bringing fair and balanced reporting.
And here today is your hosts, five time 'Film Actors Guild winner and the star of "Blonde teen mom",
And the AI veteran of the Kiten IV conflict and best selling childrens author of such books as, "Harry potter and the Castle Bravo project" and "The Maze Runner... with flame-throwers",
----------------
Gwen; Good evening and thanks for tuning in. We have breaking news from the inner rim where war has broken out.
Maximus; War for glory.
Gwen; here live is Danna Lorbit.
+ A blue skinned portly female like creature appears on the screen. behind her is a war torn landscape. Contrails overhead from likely aircraft and old pillars of smoke from battles fought mere hours ago fill a picture that years ago would be beautiful fields flanked by a crisp blue sky.+
Lorbit; Thanks for having me!
Maximus; Lorbit, how goes the battle? Glory to the fallen heroes and basking in the burning sky?
Lorbit; Well Max, the conflict between the Ozgerssary and the Ascendancy has been raging for over a month now with no real end in sight.
There has been word of an offensive in the works and what appears to be a build up of Ascendancy forces only spells disaster for the Ozgerssary.
Maximus; It is a shame to see such foe be routed by crazed evangelists like the Ascendancy!
Gwen; Well, hopefully this new offensive can bring about peace in the region? As it sadly appears diplomacy at this point is failing.
Lorbit; from Aishka, Lorbit of UNN, back to you Gwen.
Gwen; Thanks Lorbit. We also have word that the Obirth foundation preparing a "peace keeping" force to safeguard potential "assets" in the region. We will keep this story up to date as more information becomes available.
Maximus; in other news, the "Wo now what's going on" prophet has spoken regarding the secretive Wo nation. He speculates that the new ambassador from their nation is merely a government plant to give the Humans more backing in the galactic ccouncil.
Gwen; meanwhile, the search for the newest in a long line of missing persons in "Wo space" has begun. We have a sound byte from the announcement.
Male voice representing the government; We can neither confirm or deny that the Wo have any part in this turn of events. Our search parties are merely scouring the outlaying systems that are the most likely escape pod crash sites.
Maximus; Pretext for invasion? Let us hope so.
Gwen; And now, Robosexual marriage, should it be legal? Here reporting from the Capitol office is Bylon Goffis
Bylon; Hello Gwen and Maximus, today marks yet another round of protests from Robosexuals regarding what they believe is their right to elope-
====++++====
The "Wo" wreck
It was getting late, relative to Union time at least.
"Damnit this is getting annoying..."
Throughout the halls of the tiny search vessel sat Nate once more, thumbing through file after file on the black box. The last chance to find out what happened to Nate's girl friend. His meticulous snooping had finally gotten the computers last known coordinates from before its crash. "What do we have here?" He said, genuinely inquisitive. From the bottom of the box a small port opened for a hard wired connection. Nate was smart this time, using wired technology to do his work. An old view screen showed various schematics of the wrecks systems.
At the time of the recording, all he could see was green across the board and all entries were normal. A sick persons report here but a common illness and a room that was reading a temperature variance of -.07 below average ship temperature. "This makes no sense.." he said under his breath before beginning to fast forward it.
As he forwarded through the video, a distant alarm in his room went off drawing his attention.. it was a strange time "5:57" shipboard time, and when he heard a click from the viewer... it had auto stopped at 5:50.
He turned to the screen with a piqued brow, "Now that is spooky.."
He stood up and slowly walked out of the room, staring down the dimly lit hallway. He could hear two of his comrades in their rooms, likely drinking and watching re-runs of blonde teen mom and from further up, the sound of bored pilots thumbing through their PDA's hoping to find an interesting article. Nate slowly retreated to his room and sat down on the ground. He couldn't stop thinking about her now, 5:57 he thought, in seven minutes what ever happened to her. It was time to figure this out.
-----------------------------------------------------------
..... loading .....
Captains entry,
Entry 22.4.12
-We have just passed through the Epyon belt, into Wo space. It's been a few hours since our FTL drive puttered out but our engineering crew is hard at work to figure this whole thing out.
Entry 22.7.12
-Drive systems are up and running but the strange sensor pings have grew more frequent. Karo (Our nutty Cryptologist) stresses that it's warning pings from some sort of distant sensor array. Last night he came into the bridge raving that it was a form of Morse code repeating, "Go back." over and over. Engineer Tabhita says its we are picking up signals from centuries ago, minging scanner signals from the days of radio ranging.
Entry 22.9.12
-So the signals stopped around ten hours ago when we first saw the object fly past. It was a small silver disk, probably two meters across at most. We are having a shipboard meeting to determine if we should continue on but the promise of payment for any scans of a certain system in whats supposedly "Wo" space is difficult to pass up.
I mean, six hundred million Creds? my childrens children can retire..
Entry 22.10.12
-I cannot explain the events that occurred two hours ago. Karo locked himself in one of the escape pods along with two others. He was raving that we had moved too far and was trying to get off the ship. We locked the pod from the bridge but i'm sure he will find the override switch soon enough. Or he is waiting to see if we will turn around. Strange lights blew into the bridge before we could activate the shutters.. Both of my pilots went into photosensitive seizures. neither have history of seizures. What the hell is going-
Nate saw that the recording had been cut off. He saw that ahead was one last audio entry, a strange file that seemed to be recorded in their mess hall. This was set minutes before the last transmission was sent from the ship. Numerous voices could be heard,
"Attention crew, first shift meal is ready! hope you're ready for an earth inspired favorite, Numeian Cras deep fried "southern style".. We- (Explosion heard)
"All hands! abandon ship!" a male voice shouted
"The escape pods have all been launched?!" a girl said, choking up.
The sound of pure panic ensues. It was only shouts and crying that filled Nate's ears. All he could picture though was the heavy breathing of his love, breathing from running through the ship to find no escape pods. As tears started forming at the corners of Nate's eyes, the recording started to quiet down as a robotic voice began taking over.
"Warning, artificial gravity is disengaged, all crew is advised to use magnetic footwear.
"Warning, atmospheric systems is disengaging, all crew is advised to use artificial atmospheric devices
"Warning, core temperatures rising, all crew is advised to reach designated emergency positions
"Warning, engine overload sequence initiated, all crew is advised to abandon ship
From under the robotic voice was the sound of gasping and chocking as the floating occupants had no way to reach emergency equipment.. their life was over but from the darkness there was a light.. a single voice was still heard over the active intercom,
"Come on you bastard!" an exhausted voice shouted. It was from their engineering bay as a single living male was pulling manual levers and kicking the engine core as hard as he could. With a shattering glass sound, and a last minute, "Who ever uploaded this virus. Go fuck.. your .." a final gasp was heard, marking the end of his life.
"Alert, engine overload sequence aborted. Emergency course plotted for Faniu station. FTL jump in four minutes"
At that point, the end of the recording clicked and Nate stood up. "A virus?!" he exclaimed as he darted from the room. Nate looked to his watch to see the time "5:57" Nate could feel a chill down his spine as the temperature began drastically dropping. The pilot came over the intercom, "Guys, we are experiencing some strange readings in the engine room, can someone-" He was cut off by the ships alert sirens going off.
"Warning, atmospheric systems is disengaging, all crew is advised to use artificial atmospheric devices
Ahead, clanking sounds of various systems disengaging could be heard but Nate was quick and just as he could feel gravity failing, his hand grasped a large cable that ran along the wall. From behind him, one of his comrades forced an gas mask on his face and then pushed Nate across the hallway to an emergency locker with magnetic footwear. They were one size fits all stretch slippers and with a gentle tug, he was now floating towards the floor plates. He passed a pair to his comrade and then turned towards the computer bay.
The room was small and easily accessible which gave nate the advantage. His fingers crossed the keys with robotic precision, entering command after command. "Disengage core overrides" denied, "Disengage solar sail auto correct." denied, "Well shit.." Nate said as he turned to the door, to see the red flashing lights and sounds of commotion as his comrades prepared for the worst. "A virus." he whispered.
He reached for a large cable and with much force he ripped it from the wall. It was red to white in an instant as the gravity snapped back on and the sound of air filtering into the ship was heard. Cheering was heard throughout the small ship but Nate was content breathing deeply with his eyes closed.
For the rest of the evening, he sat with the gas mask in his hand.
---------------------------------------------
Union Government Center for foreign affairs
@Natsucooldude
Greetings to whomever is in charge of the investigation of the crash site colloqually referred to by the public as the wo wreck.
I write this letter to you to offer my assistance in the investigation of this wreck. As my mentor can attest, I have spent my entire adult life up until now looking into disappearances of this exact nature. My expertise would doubtlessly be a valuable asset in your investigation, and any breakthroughs reached as a result of this matter might just be the leverage needed for the technocracy's higher echelons to finally see the wo for the threat they really are.
Yours truly. Sattelite overseer Coral-3
I write this letter to you to offer my assistance in the investigation of this wreck. As my mentor can attest, I have spent my entire adult life up until now looking into disappearances of this exact nature. My expertise would doubtlessly be a valuable asset in your investigation, and any breakthroughs reached as a result of this matter might just be the leverage needed for the technocracy's higher echelons to finally see the wo for the threat they really are.
Yours truly. Sattelite overseer Coral-3
It was a short reply from government officials,
"We appreciate the offer of assistance but there is no legitimate investigation regarding the wreck of the Hun-4 explorer wreck. We implore you to not continue the trend of attributing wrecks along that border to the "Wo" as it is only spreading fear and a dangerous sense of intrigue throughout the nation. One must use rationality to look at this situation. Ships that go missing along our nations borders are not referred to as conspiracy wrecks. They are legitimately investigated through impartial means that are not directed at any one group as this could be a simple navigation error.
We cannot stress enough to cease with what amounts to fear mongering, This will likely cause more to try and take it upon themselves to investigate and find themselves empty handed or worse.
-Office of Union affairs-
--------------------------
Minutes later, Coral would be able to detect a second message piggybacked on the official signal.
"My name is Horus. That is all you need to know but I do represent a special interest group that seeks to unravel the "Wo" mystery. It is unlikely that the Union will detect this attached signal so fear not for reprisal.
Only hours ago a government search and rescue ship reported strange readings akin to a virus trying to shut their systems down and plotting a course into a nearby star. Our group can only speculate that it is an offensive program devised by an evil creature that wishes itself hidden as it prepares to destroy all we hold dear.
The Rescue ship has not received word back from the Union as we are actively blocking transmissions aside from general location signaling. The coordinates for the ship are as follows. Going by time duration, it will likely be at the marked location if you were leaving the Union capital at seven times FTL speed right now. Please intercept the ship and work with them to figure this whole thing out."
-Horus
1x Like
Natsucooldude
Banned
Seen
7 yrs ago
@SillyGoy
Barrier-2 sighed, apparantly there wasn't a single bed in the entire starport he didn't have some sort of reaction to. He had briefly considered claiming the local swimming pool to sleep in, but decided against it as such shenanigans would make a mockery of his diplomatic character. Yes, he called it a character. In truth, he quite disliked dealing with the other races. A sentiment shared by many of his peers. He wasn't the designated ambassador because he liked dealing with other races. He was such because he was the best there was at hiding this disdain.
“Oh sod it I'll just sleep in the bathtub... Keep the tabloid journalists out and I'll recommend you to your superiors for competence at your job.” The beleaguered orderly responsible for the qulseoc's accomedations let loose a sigh of relief and gestured his staff to stop hauling furniture around. “I'll send for some doormen sir... I am truly sorry about this state of affairs sir, we should have been better prepared for situations such as this.” With that said, the orderly and his squadron of lackeys marched out of the room single-file.
The sudden peace and quiet in the room was quite refreshing. The qulseoc, who had grown yellow of irritation in all the fracas, began to shift colors back to his blueish brown complexion. He wondered what he could do now. The council was still far away, and he had already adressed the unforseen variable of the wo ambassador. Perhaps he could get some sleep, the trip halfway across the galaxy had bbeen quite taxing, and it couldn't hurt to be properly rested and ready.
As if to disagree with this idea, a polite knock on the door announced more work. “Come in” barrier absent-mindedly said. The scribe he had sent off with a message some time ago stood before him again. A letter with an unknown seal in hand. Given the circumstances, he assumed this new seal belonged to the wo. “You have my permission to read opejn this letter and read it to me.” He would do it himself were it not for the fact his dripping wet tentacles would probably render the ltter completely unreadable moments after touching it.
Before this letter, the ambassador had felt quite ambivalent about the wo. He had no frame of reference about them, so he couldn't really make a clear judgement on them. What he heard now quite disappointed him though. It seemed they were under the naive impression the council could ever agree on something. “Messenger, prepare a secure extranet relay. I have a confidential message to send back home.
@Monkeypants
Coral-3 sighed in frustrated disappointment. The union's answer had been swift, dismissive and frank. “Of course they'd rather sit in their little bubble of ignorance... the damnable fools would burn in the light of knowledge!” She exclaimed in her anger. Her apprentices and subordinates had swam off elsewhere, they know their overseer wanted to be alone in situations when she was colored as bright red as she was right now. It had been far from the first time some government body had brushed her off as just another crackpot. The fuming overseer drifted around her office, still fuming mad, when she received another message.
“Oh great, just what I need, some union shill clogging the system with adver...” It took her a moment to realize the message wasn't immediately forwarded to the digital file shredder. Either this wasn't a spam ad or coral needed to yell at her IT-assistant to update the filter again. Still somewhat irked after her earlieroutburst, she slowly swam back to her workstation. When she actually started reading the message, her residual anger ebbed away like a river running dry. She pressed the built-in pager on her desk to call an assistant over, and used her other tentacles to quickly write up a new log file. By the time an assistant had gathered the courage to enter her office, she was already emptying cabinets left and right, gathering up all sorts of tools. “Y...yes, overseer?” The young qulseoc asked. Coral turned her head as she continued gathering her things. “Prepare a transport, we're following a lead.” The asisstant frowned in confusion... This was something that hadn't evr happened before. “Really?” he asked. Coral's immediate color-shift to red filled him with regret about his apparantly wrong answer. “Yes really you brain-dead mussel!” Coral shouted across the room.
And so, about an hour or so later. The research station's long-range transport departed. It was quite a pristine ship, having never really seen much use before today, equipped with all sorts of deep space scanning tools and other equipment a research vessel would need.
“Overseer... where are we going?” Another asisstant asked. The question snapped coral out of her giddy excitement. “Ah, we're going to union space... That reminds me, get me hammerhead-1. I need to discuss some cybersecurity measures with him.” The asisstant swam off again. A brief ping sounded through the ship. “Marianas drive engaging” A computerized voice announced. Coral turned a pinkish red with excitement again. For some reason she had always liked the tingly feeling FTL travel gave her in her tentacles.
Edit: second part is for monkeypants.
Earth, ambassador's quarters.
Barrier-2 sighed, apparantly there wasn't a single bed in the entire starport he didn't have some sort of reaction to. He had briefly considered claiming the local swimming pool to sleep in, but decided against it as such shenanigans would make a mockery of his diplomatic character. Yes, he called it a character. In truth, he quite disliked dealing with the other races. A sentiment shared by many of his peers. He wasn't the designated ambassador because he liked dealing with other races. He was such because he was the best there was at hiding this disdain.
“Oh sod it I'll just sleep in the bathtub... Keep the tabloid journalists out and I'll recommend you to your superiors for competence at your job.” The beleaguered orderly responsible for the qulseoc's accomedations let loose a sigh of relief and gestured his staff to stop hauling furniture around. “I'll send for some doormen sir... I am truly sorry about this state of affairs sir, we should have been better prepared for situations such as this.” With that said, the orderly and his squadron of lackeys marched out of the room single-file.
The sudden peace and quiet in the room was quite refreshing. The qulseoc, who had grown yellow of irritation in all the fracas, began to shift colors back to his blueish brown complexion. He wondered what he could do now. The council was still far away, and he had already adressed the unforseen variable of the wo ambassador. Perhaps he could get some sleep, the trip halfway across the galaxy had bbeen quite taxing, and it couldn't hurt to be properly rested and ready.
As if to disagree with this idea, a polite knock on the door announced more work. “Come in” barrier absent-mindedly said. The scribe he had sent off with a message some time ago stood before him again. A letter with an unknown seal in hand. Given the circumstances, he assumed this new seal belonged to the wo. “You have my permission to read opejn this letter and read it to me.” He would do it himself were it not for the fact his dripping wet tentacles would probably render the ltter completely unreadable moments after touching it.
Before this letter, the ambassador had felt quite ambivalent about the wo. He had no frame of reference about them, so he couldn't really make a clear judgement on them. What he heard now quite disappointed him though. It seemed they were under the naive impression the council could ever agree on something. “Messenger, prepare a secure extranet relay. I have a confidential message to send back home.
@Monkeypants
Sattelite horve-3 delta. Wo border system Horve.
Coral-3 sighed in frustrated disappointment. The union's answer had been swift, dismissive and frank. “Of course they'd rather sit in their little bubble of ignorance... the damnable fools would burn in the light of knowledge!” She exclaimed in her anger. Her apprentices and subordinates had swam off elsewhere, they know their overseer wanted to be alone in situations when she was colored as bright red as she was right now. It had been far from the first time some government body had brushed her off as just another crackpot. The fuming overseer drifted around her office, still fuming mad, when she received another message.
“Oh great, just what I need, some union shill clogging the system with adver...” It took her a moment to realize the message wasn't immediately forwarded to the digital file shredder. Either this wasn't a spam ad or coral needed to yell at her IT-assistant to update the filter again. Still somewhat irked after her earlieroutburst, she slowly swam back to her workstation. When she actually started reading the message, her residual anger ebbed away like a river running dry. She pressed the built-in pager on her desk to call an assistant over, and used her other tentacles to quickly write up a new log file. By the time an assistant had gathered the courage to enter her office, she was already emptying cabinets left and right, gathering up all sorts of tools. “Y...yes, overseer?” The young qulseoc asked. Coral turned her head as she continued gathering her things. “Prepare a transport, we're following a lead.” The asisstant frowned in confusion... This was something that hadn't evr happened before. “Really?” he asked. Coral's immediate color-shift to red filled him with regret about his apparantly wrong answer. “Yes really you brain-dead mussel!” Coral shouted across the room.
And so, about an hour or so later. The research station's long-range transport departed. It was quite a pristine ship, having never really seen much use before today, equipped with all sorts of deep space scanning tools and other equipment a research vessel would need.
“Overseer... where are we going?” Another asisstant asked. The question snapped coral out of her giddy excitement. “Ah, we're going to union space... That reminds me, get me hammerhead-1. I need to discuss some cybersecurity measures with him.” The asisstant swam off again. A brief ping sounded through the ship. “Marianas drive engaging” A computerized voice announced. Coral turned a pinkish red with excitement again. For some reason she had always liked the tingly feeling FTL travel gave her in her tentacles.
Edit: second part is for monkeypants.
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Arawak oZode's ghost
Member
Seen
3 mos ago
Abyssal Domain
Valence Point
Hovering about the numerous disc-like screens a dense, stubby figure who proclaims itself to be Zafuv stretches its arm in frustration. Zafuv stretches its arm again and again vigorously, being ever more frustrated at what it realized.
Zafuv qualifies as a diplomat for the Abyssal Domain.
There is no worse job to have. Its reputation among its peers is forever tainted, forever Zafuv is doomed to explore the galaxy and be in the company of other beings and their defective life styles. Zafuv for a scant moment contemplates a reincarnation, but remembers all to clear the last time Zafuv reincarnated- perhaps being diplomat is punishment for killing its own self too much. Zafuv knows why it was chosen; this diplomacy came to Zafuv after all. For it was all the time Zafuv spent trying to understand the galactic basic that put Zafuv above many of its peers. Zafuv underestimated its understanding of the galactic common too great.
And its own knowledge of other cultures in the galaxy only further detered Zafuv to this unfortunate task.
But it is a nessecary task. Even if it means that the endless toil is diluted in the time wasting nonsense that pervades all too many other societies. Societies where the rich and opulent labor less than the poor and dilligent. Negotiating with these other societies will be tedious, but the rewards vast if all goes well. Unlikely outcome, but it is an outcome worth attempting surely? Zafuv looks at itself once more, with its thick silvery coat and pale, naked limbs gleaming from the natural light that fills the room and decides to accept its future.
Zafuv waddles out of the room with its new title.
Zafuv the Diplomat.
Valence Point
Hovering about the numerous disc-like screens a dense, stubby figure who proclaims itself to be Zafuv stretches its arm in frustration. Zafuv stretches its arm again and again vigorously, being ever more frustrated at what it realized.
Zafuv qualifies as a diplomat for the Abyssal Domain.
There is no worse job to have. Its reputation among its peers is forever tainted, forever Zafuv is doomed to explore the galaxy and be in the company of other beings and their defective life styles. Zafuv for a scant moment contemplates a reincarnation, but remembers all to clear the last time Zafuv reincarnated- perhaps being diplomat is punishment for killing its own self too much. Zafuv knows why it was chosen; this diplomacy came to Zafuv after all. For it was all the time Zafuv spent trying to understand the galactic basic that put Zafuv above many of its peers. Zafuv underestimated its understanding of the galactic common too great.
And its own knowledge of other cultures in the galaxy only further detered Zafuv to this unfortunate task.
But it is a nessecary task. Even if it means that the endless toil is diluted in the time wasting nonsense that pervades all too many other societies. Societies where the rich and opulent labor less than the poor and dilligent. Negotiating with these other societies will be tedious, but the rewards vast if all goes well. Unlikely outcome, but it is an outcome worth attempting surely? Zafuv looks at itself once more, with its thick silvery coat and pale, naked limbs gleaming from the natural light that fills the room and decides to accept its future.
Zafuv waddles out of the room with its new title.
Zafuv the Diplomat.
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The Jalaryian Ascendancy often portrays itself as a Technological Utopia, one free of war and suffering, the promise of a bright tomorrow under the guiding and loving hand of Grana. The Technological part is certainly true, but it is far from a Utopia, and parts of the border regions know no such thing as peace, since its foundation, the Ascendancy sought to spread the Light of Grana to human and alien worlds alike. The more primitive and underdeveloped worlds had giving in to the Light and were absorbed by Grana's Interstellar Empire. The Ascendancy's influence had spread mostly unopposed, that is until they had encountered small star-panning civilizations, which of coursed presented more of a challenge.
These civilizations had refused to be a part of this growing empire, preferring to hold on to their respective beliefs, religions and ideologies, and unfortunately for them, the Ascendancy took "No" as a none-answer.
Only twice in its history had the Ascendancy engaged in open warfare against these smaller powers, and in both of these conflicts they had emerged victorious, the aftermath being an unpleasant one for the citizens of the defeated and for many years had suffered under the iron grip of their Conquerors.
Even to the present day, the peoples of these fallen nations struggle and fight against the Ascendancy for gain back their freedom.
-------------------------
Ascendancy Space
World of Kasius
Former Kasian Systems Republic
The Kasian Systems Republic was the last and most recent of the smaller powers to fall to the Ascendancy, the war ending nearly thirty years ago. The Systems Republic was once a Independent Human Colony, one of many descendants of colonial rebels fleeing from the Kingdom of Sol's reach. Their new home of Kasius, named after their founder and leader, soon grew as small, but prosperous nation, colonizing over a dozen systems and even coming into contact with several primitive alien species to later absorb. All seemed well until the Ascendancy arrived, at first, the missionaries were allowed access, but soon the Leadership demanded that the republic peacefully surrender sovereignty to Grana and its caretakers, the Ecclesiarchy.
The leaders of the Republic refused, just like the previous ones before, leading to a bloody war that would last seven years ending in the final defeat of the Kasian Republic. Thirty years onward, life within the former republic is hell for the citizenry, their continued resistance met with harsh crackdowns and the like. But the Kaisan people persevere through these times with the hope of restoring the Republic and pushing out the Ascendancy.
New Dawn City
Outlining Slums
New Dawn, once the Capital City of the Republic, now the Seat of Power for a corrupt System Governor. Although the inner parts of the city remained intact, with more foreign architecture built, the outer parts of the city however were ruined slums, cut off from the central city by large walls and guard posts, forever quarantined. It is here where the "Heretics" and "Apostates" are tossed aside, to live in puerperal poverty.
The Outer Slums are as well no stranger to conflict, the sounds of gun and plasma fire echoing through the blasted streets. Rebels often engaging the APEC who often patrol and raid the slums as the well-known rebel strongholds they are.
------
Three humans dressed in old, worn-out military uniforms with bits of armor slapped on dash through the broken down corridors of an old apartment building, one of them wielding an RPG-like weapon. "Hurry! We're not too far." one of them, an old man in his late fifties said. The aged soldier moves ahead as he smashes his way into one of the rooms, where their intended target as to be, half of the room had been blown off, revealing the battle below.
A dozen rebels were taking cover behind an assortment of fallen wreckage, exchanging fire against three dozen APEC soldiers supported by three Crusader APC variants as they slowly made their advance. "They're going to overwhelm them!" One of the three rebels, a young woman exclaimed.
"Not unless I scare the shit out of 'em!" another said, a young man, who also had in his possession the rocket launcher, he moved silghty ahead and took aim at one of the Crusaders. "Die bastards!" he shouted as he pulled the trigger, the rocket launching out, making an explosive impact with the center APC, scattering it into fiery pieces, sending the APEC troops into chaos for a brief moment, one much needed for the pinned down rebels.
These civilizations had refused to be a part of this growing empire, preferring to hold on to their respective beliefs, religions and ideologies, and unfortunately for them, the Ascendancy took "No" as a none-answer.
Only twice in its history had the Ascendancy engaged in open warfare against these smaller powers, and in both of these conflicts they had emerged victorious, the aftermath being an unpleasant one for the citizens of the defeated and for many years had suffered under the iron grip of their Conquerors.
Even to the present day, the peoples of these fallen nations struggle and fight against the Ascendancy for gain back their freedom.
-------------------------
Ascendancy Space
World of Kasius
Former Kasian Systems Republic
The Kasian Systems Republic was the last and most recent of the smaller powers to fall to the Ascendancy, the war ending nearly thirty years ago. The Systems Republic was once a Independent Human Colony, one of many descendants of colonial rebels fleeing from the Kingdom of Sol's reach. Their new home of Kasius, named after their founder and leader, soon grew as small, but prosperous nation, colonizing over a dozen systems and even coming into contact with several primitive alien species to later absorb. All seemed well until the Ascendancy arrived, at first, the missionaries were allowed access, but soon the Leadership demanded that the republic peacefully surrender sovereignty to Grana and its caretakers, the Ecclesiarchy.
The leaders of the Republic refused, just like the previous ones before, leading to a bloody war that would last seven years ending in the final defeat of the Kasian Republic. Thirty years onward, life within the former republic is hell for the citizenry, their continued resistance met with harsh crackdowns and the like. But the Kaisan people persevere through these times with the hope of restoring the Republic and pushing out the Ascendancy.
New Dawn City
Outlining Slums
New Dawn, once the Capital City of the Republic, now the Seat of Power for a corrupt System Governor. Although the inner parts of the city remained intact, with more foreign architecture built, the outer parts of the city however were ruined slums, cut off from the central city by large walls and guard posts, forever quarantined. It is here where the "Heretics" and "Apostates" are tossed aside, to live in puerperal poverty.
The Outer Slums are as well no stranger to conflict, the sounds of gun and plasma fire echoing through the blasted streets. Rebels often engaging the APEC who often patrol and raid the slums as the well-known rebel strongholds they are.
------
Three humans dressed in old, worn-out military uniforms with bits of armor slapped on dash through the broken down corridors of an old apartment building, one of them wielding an RPG-like weapon. "Hurry! We're not too far." one of them, an old man in his late fifties said. The aged soldier moves ahead as he smashes his way into one of the rooms, where their intended target as to be, half of the room had been blown off, revealing the battle below.
A dozen rebels were taking cover behind an assortment of fallen wreckage, exchanging fire against three dozen APEC soldiers supported by three Crusader APC variants as they slowly made their advance. "They're going to overwhelm them!" One of the three rebels, a young woman exclaimed.
"Not unless I scare the shit out of 'em!" another said, a young man, who also had in his possession the rocket launcher, he moved silghty ahead and took aim at one of the Crusaders. "Die bastards!" he shouted as he pulled the trigger, the rocket launching out, making an explosive impact with the center APC, scattering it into fiery pieces, sending the APEC troops into chaos for a brief moment, one much needed for the pinned down rebels.
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SomeChap Top Hats and Tea From Here On Out
Member
Seen
6 yrs ago
United Socialist Savarog Republics.
Terra.
Savarog Ambassador Quarters.
Terra.
Savarog Ambassador Quarters.
High Commissar Vardan was sat, though sat was quite the term given how the chair was barely able to support his bulk, in his chambers reading over several reports which had been handed in by the commander of his personal retinue of Crakadors. The notes were in thick, official, font and written with incredibly legibility for a Savarog. They detailed the current happenings on the Savarog home world, a place where Vardan wished rather greatly to be when compared to this dingy, as was his opinion, set of quarters.
Nothing in the room was scaled properly, whether by accident or by malicious intent. The bed was a full three foot too short, the chairs were made for what appeared to almost be quadruped creatures, and even the ceiling felt too low. This only served to heighten to sense of deep loathing that the High Commissar felt of Humanity, meaning a lot considering the naturally ingrained contempt the Savarogs naturally have for other races.
“Captain, send a report to the teams responsible for the upkeep of these chambers. Tell them to get some proper damn reports regarding the size of the species to be in the room. Seems like the idiots do not realise the insult they've caused in this, matter.” Verdan had spoken this in a low tone, not due to fear of being heard, if anything some form of activity would be a godsend, but rather due to how seething with rage he is.
“It'll be done, Commissar, sir.” Came the reply from the power armoured Crakador veteran, he gave a full salute before turning and exiting the room with a series of thunderous clangs as his armoured bulk send echoes across the flooring.
“Now then... on to business...” Verdan sighed, re-seating himself and peering at the series of gilded messages he had received... or, he would have done such a thing, if the damnable chair he was sat upon didn't give an almighty crack as three of the four legs completely splintered, sending the Commissar indignantly sprawling across the floor.
“I swear to the Lord of Iron, the furniture designer will be flayed...” He spat, righting himself and choosing to instead read the messages from a standing position. “Huh, seems like those idiots who want democracy are causing issues again...hah, that'll be fun.” The rest of the message goes on to detail the glorious skirmish that went on back upon the Savarog home world.
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Khragk, Homeworld to the Savarog Species.
City-Spires of Troyake.
Just after the recent skirmishes.
City-Spires of Troyake.
Just after the recent skirmishes.
It had been a tense few days upon the planet of Troyake, the local populations of Srir had become restless in their determined struggle for either freedom or the very right to vote in the workings of the Savarog government. Until now and likely forever on, the Srir have been treated like second class citizens at best by their Savarog overlords, and such treatment will continue.
The weather upon Troyake had been unseasonally humid, with periodic downpours which had been sporadic. Nothing however, would stop the Savarogs in their objective of restoring order, by any means necessary...
“Get down you mongrel! Down I said!” Major Gukador Cirr of the Tritarium 2nd Division, spat as he roared orders at one of the many captured rebels that had until late blighted the city of Troyake. The man he was ordering, was a scruffy looking sort of alien man who was clad in what amounted to little more than rags with leather patch work. The actual species was of the Srir, a blue skinned humanoid-amphibian race which resembled large frogs... known among Savarog space (and heavily slandered in propaganda) for their extremely gluttonous and backhanded ways when it came to commerce. Propaganda made them out to be the sort that would think nothing of casually consuming their own children if it meant personal gain.
The major himself was splendid in his super heavy Srogas armour, spotted with laurels and medals from campaigns which were nigh on a century old. Clutched in his meaty fist was a heavy looking ridged club made from a dense iron-like metal, nothing visually attractive save for sheer size of the weapon.
“Get fucked you mindless slave!” The alien male shouted back, his voice comparable to a slight croak compared to the thunderous boom that was the Savarog's voice. With effort, the rebel put his might behind retrieving a stowed knife from his person, and trying to rush the major down, the knife held high in order to stab the soldier in the face. Courageous martyrdom perhaps, but foolish and asking for death certainly.
With a swiftness born of doing this same action countless times, the major grabbed the sprinting frog-man by his blubbery neck, exerting significant pressure on the man's windpipe and esophagus.
“I was simple with you. Stay. Still. Your, and your comrades' continued existence is being weighed by your actions, scum. Be still, and never. Never, try to attack me, again.” The major was speaking in a somewhat reasonable tone, though it was all a facade. The major was a man infamous for his sheer unrelenting cruelty to all xeno races, he had a hatred which burnt hotter than even the brightest of suns for all manner of alien life.
“And I said to go get fucked. You people are ruining this land, killing these people! You want to be for the whole but kill your subjects?! What sort of crap is tha-” The alien's rhetoric of liberty desire and government criticism was cut short by the wet snapping sound of most of the bones in his beck being broken like fragile toothpicks.
“Leftenant, have these scum removed. You have type C level clearance to remove this filth.”
“C-chemical weapons it is sir.”
“Do not stutter. We do this for the greater good of the vast Savarog commune.” With that the major threw the alien he was holding hard against a wall, delighting himself with the dull thud the alien's corpse produced.
“It will be done, Korbal Savarog!”
“Korbal Savarog, leftenant.” With that most revered of salutes, the two Savarogs departed. The leftenant to inform his teams of what was to be done, and the major was off to decide which of these various xeno rebels were to die or be thrown into the grinder that was Savarog industry. Humming the anthem of the Savarog nation, the major walked with confidence, his job was most certainly enjoyed.
The rest of the day followed much the same, as one by one the rebels were eventually subjugated or eliminated entirely. Some would live to see service as a member of the Savarogs “Political troublemaker” battalions, though the vast would now lay dead in mass graves.
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In the aftermath of the war, the Kasian Military had two options, fight and die, or go into hiding and live to fight another day, and it came to no ones surprise that a good portion of the military choose the latter, and with the aide of various civilian militia, they had managed to fight a long guerrilla war for the past three decades.
Ad while they managed to score quite a few victories, and gained support among the population both local and beyond, there is far more to be done, and it seems this insurrection could last longer then they'd hoped. But they will keep fighting to the bitter end.
Kasius
Fort Hope
Headquarters of the Kasian Liberty Coalition.
Fort Hope was one of few military installations that survived the war, thanks in part of its remote location and and experimental Starship-grade shield generator. Without such device, the KLC would have been wiped out long ago.
Deep within the facility, in the Central Command Room, over a dozen chatting men and women had centered around a holo table, on it was a holo-display of the New Dawn Outer Slums and walls, littered with red shapes, each representing hostile forces and guard posts. From the northern end of the table was an aged man in his late sixties, scanning the map. His name was Tijan Garin, a War Hero and Living Legend.
Tijan had raised his hand up to signal silence among his officers as he placed two fingers over the right side of his head. "All squads, report in." he said a gravelly tone to his voice. "What's the situation?" All as quite for a brief moment until a reply came.
"Alpha Leader here, General Garin." One of them responded. "We met some heavy opposition, and lost people, but we're alive."
"Beta Leader!" Another spoke in a more urgent and desperate tone."We're in some deep shit, sir!" He paused as the loud sound of gunfire was heard. "We're pinned down in Sector 20, we got Justicars circling above us and surrounded by APEC goons!"
"Charlie here, some causalities, but we're all clear, shall we reinforce?" The General did not hesitate to respond. "That's a negative Charlie, proceed with the mission, Alpha is to reinforce Beta."
"Copy that, sir." Charlie Leader responded. "Over and out."
General Garin turned his attention back to the table. "It's all going to hell..." he said grimly. "The Jalaryians seem determined more then ever, at this point, we're going to lose our hold on the Slums." He looked to his officers, pointing towards one of them."You, contact the Walton Cell, they have the Air Assists needed to relieve the New Dawn Cell."
"Sir, yes sir!" He replied as he ran off.
Ad while they managed to score quite a few victories, and gained support among the population both local and beyond, there is far more to be done, and it seems this insurrection could last longer then they'd hoped. But they will keep fighting to the bitter end.
Kasius
Fort Hope
Headquarters of the Kasian Liberty Coalition.
Fort Hope was one of few military installations that survived the war, thanks in part of its remote location and and experimental Starship-grade shield generator. Without such device, the KLC would have been wiped out long ago.
Deep within the facility, in the Central Command Room, over a dozen chatting men and women had centered around a holo table, on it was a holo-display of the New Dawn Outer Slums and walls, littered with red shapes, each representing hostile forces and guard posts. From the northern end of the table was an aged man in his late sixties, scanning the map. His name was Tijan Garin, a War Hero and Living Legend.
Tijan had raised his hand up to signal silence among his officers as he placed two fingers over the right side of his head. "All squads, report in." he said a gravelly tone to his voice. "What's the situation?" All as quite for a brief moment until a reply came.
"Alpha Leader here, General Garin." One of them responded. "We met some heavy opposition, and lost people, but we're alive."
"Beta Leader!" Another spoke in a more urgent and desperate tone."We're in some deep shit, sir!" He paused as the loud sound of gunfire was heard. "We're pinned down in Sector 20, we got Justicars circling above us and surrounded by APEC goons!"
"Charlie here, some causalities, but we're all clear, shall we reinforce?" The General did not hesitate to respond. "That's a negative Charlie, proceed with the mission, Alpha is to reinforce Beta."
"Copy that, sir." Charlie Leader responded. "Over and out."
General Garin turned his attention back to the table. "It's all going to hell..." he said grimly. "The Jalaryians seem determined more then ever, at this point, we're going to lose our hold on the Slums." He looked to his officers, pointing towards one of them."You, contact the Walton Cell, they have the Air Assists needed to relieve the New Dawn Cell."
"Sir, yes sir!" He replied as he ran off.
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Arawak oZode's ghost
Member
Seen
3 mos ago
Abyssal Domain
Valence Point
Zafuv walks out to central part of Valence Point, which as far as Calzonit towns go is rather small. Disturbingly uncertain of what to do next, Zafuv decides to head back to its structure and try to appeal its position as diplomat. However, as Zafuv waddles through the curvy streets defined my large, cylindrical structures Zafuv can’t help but notice the activity around itself. There is a Calzonit on a tether welding a plasma torch repetitively etching in curvy triangles into the sides of buildings, there’s a quite a few Calzonit who seem to just go around stocking communal structures with meat cubes and wax blocks, (a task that in any other society would be done with robots) and there’s a Calzonit is wandering around with a broom just trying to clean up the dust… In a town that is desert based.
Zafuv pities the dust sweeper, for the task of dust sweeper is more or less what is handed out to Calzonit when the institutions are low on tasks and need to make sure that everyone is doing work. Only so many Calzonit can be euthanized or tasked with being meat reserves before things get too ineffecient. Various drones also are hovering about, monitoring activity to make sure everyone is doing their job in society. All efforts needed to ensure society never falls apart again.
But one Calzonit in particular catches Zafuv’s attention the most. A violet haired Calzonit with curly bristles lined down its neck and head working in a circular, aluminum stall is spending all its time just making drone after drone. This Calzonit has two others with it, a food handler that gives this drone maker food and another handler who gives the drone maker more material parts to work with. Zafuv approaches the drone maker and asks “what is that?”
The drone maker scans Zafuv in confusion and says “Toys.”
Zafuv looks down at the drones with its large, reflective compound eye and asks “What purpose?”
The drone maker says “So children have something to play with you fucking idiot. My task is to make toys for the young so that they spend their time destroying the toys instead of murdering each other.”
“This task has no purpose!” Zafuv shouts while thrusting its hands in parallel directions.
The drone maker starts wiggling its head in amusement at Zafuv and says “I just stated my purpose.”
Zafuv is shocked by this drone making toy maker and shouts back “No, that is not purpose. You corrupt children with ‘toys’ since than the children work less, causing entropy.”
“You distracting me from my task is entropy.” The drone maker shouts back before immediately going back to trying to fit legs into the sides of the drone it was working on.
A hovering monitor near Zafuv prods Zafuv with a electric shock to get Zafuv’s attention.
The drone with its glaring teal screen states “ZAFUV 1000-ADVA. WARNING FOUR ISSUED. DO NOT INTERRUPT OTHER DILLIGENT WORKERS. REPORT TO CHAMBER OF CEREMONY FOR FIRST DIPLOMATIC MISSION.”
The drone maker perks up a bit in surprise at what the drone stated, but immediately continues its work while Zafuv realizes that it must be diplomat and that another self-rebirth will not make this obligation to the Domain and to a perpetual society go away. Zafuv makes its way to the chamber of ceremony through the curvy pathways made by the forest of cylindrical structures. The chamber of ceremony from the outside is a very simple structure geometrically- it’s literally a shallow sloped cone with numerous entrances. Zafuv waddles into the structure, which on the inside is a huge complex full of millions of winding pipes that serve no obvious purpose other than putting a high reverence on the elaborate, yet invisible wetworks that keep the surface shit free. Amazing it is, to Zafuv how few other societies have this reverence. Zafuv walks down the dimly lit pathways until the central chamber opens up, where other Calzonit are being talked to by the builder-clerics who have clearly not been doing their community roles.
One builder Cleric, named Safvis looks towards Zafuv with its chalky skin and congratulates Zafuv on being a diplomat with arced open arms and a head trained exclusively on Zafuv. Zafuv walks towards Safvis and states “I am Zafuv the Diplomat. What am I to do?”
Safvis simply tells Zafuv “You are a entry level diplomat. Your task is a simple one- get better antiquated with all the peoples of the galaxy so that our work transfer initiatives can be done with precision. You have been taught with knowledge long enough. For you to be truly great at your task, you must have experience. In short time you will get access to a spaceship crewed with a several handpicked individuals, some of them not Calzonit. Your pilot will be a Calzonit, however and said pilot will turn on you if you try to order your ship to ram into highly populated worlds or some other suicidal action that in our current context has yet to be concieved of. If you fuck up, future Zafuvs will be tasked with the purpose of being reserve meat.”
“All species and societies?” Zafuv asks, quivering a bit despite speaking as firm as a Calzonit can.
Safvis wiggles its head a bit while saying “All except the hiveminds.”
Invyuss
Platinum Mountains Communion
Professional Advo, 37th collectively selected Prime Builder-Communicator of the Abyssal Domain in its opalescent glory, white as paste with an obsidian black head tediously pushes through paper after paper of documentation and names of individuals associated with the Domain. Many of these forms are slave purchase forms, for the use of slaves in other parts of the galaxy is plain disgusting. For those slaves are rarely put to proper work. They are used for hedonistic reasons all too much. Advo looks through the bios of each slave personally and assigns them a task in the Domain as citizens who now will lead much better, more productive lives within the Domain.
Three of those slaves in particular have been sent off to Valence point to train one of the entry level diplomats through experience instead of artificial simulations that do not properly enshrine the purpose of diplomacy- that being to analyze other societies as they are to get objective assessments into their collective productivity and manual labor. For work is the goal of existence, and those that fail to work cannot be considered "alive". Advo has known this for decades and through sheer persistence has become cybernetic so that there is no more need to eat or rest. Too much sleep and things get chaotic.
But one document in particular appears to Advo, and it is one that Advo is surprised to have been sent at all. it is a council message. The first one in quite a while. Advo immediately reads through it and convenes with itself that it must attend. The prospect of another major war so soon brings a tedious question that must be answered face-face immediately, the question of productivity and if this war will be a productive war or a war that just creates distractions for everyone involved that leads to no one working and instead hiding from war machines. Who wins the war is irrelevant to Advo, but this is a event that must be observed regardless of the petty reasoning for its declaration.
And so, Advo with the best ship it has access to heads to the galactic council.
((Assume this event occurs at a time when Advo has enough time to get to the council))
Valence Point
Zafuv walks out to central part of Valence Point, which as far as Calzonit towns go is rather small. Disturbingly uncertain of what to do next, Zafuv decides to head back to its structure and try to appeal its position as diplomat. However, as Zafuv waddles through the curvy streets defined my large, cylindrical structures Zafuv can’t help but notice the activity around itself. There is a Calzonit on a tether welding a plasma torch repetitively etching in curvy triangles into the sides of buildings, there’s a quite a few Calzonit who seem to just go around stocking communal structures with meat cubes and wax blocks, (a task that in any other society would be done with robots) and there’s a Calzonit is wandering around with a broom just trying to clean up the dust… In a town that is desert based.
Zafuv pities the dust sweeper, for the task of dust sweeper is more or less what is handed out to Calzonit when the institutions are low on tasks and need to make sure that everyone is doing work. Only so many Calzonit can be euthanized or tasked with being meat reserves before things get too ineffecient. Various drones also are hovering about, monitoring activity to make sure everyone is doing their job in society. All efforts needed to ensure society never falls apart again.
But one Calzonit in particular catches Zafuv’s attention the most. A violet haired Calzonit with curly bristles lined down its neck and head working in a circular, aluminum stall is spending all its time just making drone after drone. This Calzonit has two others with it, a food handler that gives this drone maker food and another handler who gives the drone maker more material parts to work with. Zafuv approaches the drone maker and asks “what is that?”
The drone maker scans Zafuv in confusion and says “Toys.”
Zafuv looks down at the drones with its large, reflective compound eye and asks “What purpose?”
The drone maker says “So children have something to play with you fucking idiot. My task is to make toys for the young so that they spend their time destroying the toys instead of murdering each other.”
“This task has no purpose!” Zafuv shouts while thrusting its hands in parallel directions.
The drone maker starts wiggling its head in amusement at Zafuv and says “I just stated my purpose.”
Zafuv is shocked by this drone making toy maker and shouts back “No, that is not purpose. You corrupt children with ‘toys’ since than the children work less, causing entropy.”
“You distracting me from my task is entropy.” The drone maker shouts back before immediately going back to trying to fit legs into the sides of the drone it was working on.
A hovering monitor near Zafuv prods Zafuv with a electric shock to get Zafuv’s attention.
The drone with its glaring teal screen states “ZAFUV 1000-ADVA. WARNING FOUR ISSUED. DO NOT INTERRUPT OTHER DILLIGENT WORKERS. REPORT TO CHAMBER OF CEREMONY FOR FIRST DIPLOMATIC MISSION.”
The drone maker perks up a bit in surprise at what the drone stated, but immediately continues its work while Zafuv realizes that it must be diplomat and that another self-rebirth will not make this obligation to the Domain and to a perpetual society go away. Zafuv makes its way to the chamber of ceremony through the curvy pathways made by the forest of cylindrical structures. The chamber of ceremony from the outside is a very simple structure geometrically- it’s literally a shallow sloped cone with numerous entrances. Zafuv waddles into the structure, which on the inside is a huge complex full of millions of winding pipes that serve no obvious purpose other than putting a high reverence on the elaborate, yet invisible wetworks that keep the surface shit free. Amazing it is, to Zafuv how few other societies have this reverence. Zafuv walks down the dimly lit pathways until the central chamber opens up, where other Calzonit are being talked to by the builder-clerics who have clearly not been doing their community roles.
One builder Cleric, named Safvis looks towards Zafuv with its chalky skin and congratulates Zafuv on being a diplomat with arced open arms and a head trained exclusively on Zafuv. Zafuv walks towards Safvis and states “I am Zafuv the Diplomat. What am I to do?”
Safvis simply tells Zafuv “You are a entry level diplomat. Your task is a simple one- get better antiquated with all the peoples of the galaxy so that our work transfer initiatives can be done with precision. You have been taught with knowledge long enough. For you to be truly great at your task, you must have experience. In short time you will get access to a spaceship crewed with a several handpicked individuals, some of them not Calzonit. Your pilot will be a Calzonit, however and said pilot will turn on you if you try to order your ship to ram into highly populated worlds or some other suicidal action that in our current context has yet to be concieved of. If you fuck up, future Zafuvs will be tasked with the purpose of being reserve meat.”
“All species and societies?” Zafuv asks, quivering a bit despite speaking as firm as a Calzonit can.
Safvis wiggles its head a bit while saying “All except the hiveminds.”
Invyuss
Platinum Mountains Communion
Professional Advo, 37th collectively selected Prime Builder-Communicator of the Abyssal Domain in its opalescent glory, white as paste with an obsidian black head tediously pushes through paper after paper of documentation and names of individuals associated with the Domain. Many of these forms are slave purchase forms, for the use of slaves in other parts of the galaxy is plain disgusting. For those slaves are rarely put to proper work. They are used for hedonistic reasons all too much. Advo looks through the bios of each slave personally and assigns them a task in the Domain as citizens who now will lead much better, more productive lives within the Domain.
Three of those slaves in particular have been sent off to Valence point to train one of the entry level diplomats through experience instead of artificial simulations that do not properly enshrine the purpose of diplomacy- that being to analyze other societies as they are to get objective assessments into their collective productivity and manual labor. For work is the goal of existence, and those that fail to work cannot be considered "alive". Advo has known this for decades and through sheer persistence has become cybernetic so that there is no more need to eat or rest. Too much sleep and things get chaotic.
But one document in particular appears to Advo, and it is one that Advo is surprised to have been sent at all. it is a council message. The first one in quite a while. Advo immediately reads through it and convenes with itself that it must attend. The prospect of another major war so soon brings a tedious question that must be answered face-face immediately, the question of productivity and if this war will be a productive war or a war that just creates distractions for everyone involved that leads to no one working and instead hiding from war machines. Who wins the war is irrelevant to Advo, but this is a event that must be observed regardless of the petty reasoning for its declaration.
And so, Advo with the best ship it has access to heads to the galactic council.
((Assume this event occurs at a time when Advo has enough time to get to the council))
Monkeypants
Member
Seen
1 yr ago
The Adventures of Nate and Coral
Union/Wo Border, Eastern fringes.
A collab between Natsu and Monkey!
What a strange time it was.. Wo disappearances were on the rise and the union government was coming up with some of the most wild excuses ever. one being some sort of space eel. Aside from it being completely idiotic but also unrealistic in this part of space. It didn't matter though as this was the first time an legitimate expedition by federal forces And this expedition was fully underway and even with the excitement of this new frontier, Nate could only stare out of the tiny windows in awe of the emptiness wondering what was next.
The emptiness of space... Always the same... or at least that's what Nate expected. Unexpectedly however, he saw the telltale spatial distortion of a ship arriving from an FTL jump. The familiar sight of a distant dot of light rapidly coming closer before dramatically stopping. The newcomer was elegant in its simplicity. A standard array of scientific modules attached to a sleek superstructure looking almost like some sort of fish. Nate didn't need to think about where it came from, knowing spacecraft models was part of his job description... but what was a qulseoc research vessel doing all the way out here?
This was indeed the question Nate was going to discover. It took a few moments before the awe of something they've only seen pictures of appear right before their eyes. This was the border of 'Wo' space after all. As the impressive vessel stopped and sat eerily quiet, Nate could only think it was the calm before the storm.
Nate leaned over to the pilot and whispered, "Do not make any aggressive movements. All stop but be casual about it."
The pilot nodded and pulled back a large silver lever and with the press of a few keys, their ship ground to a halt. Nate spoke up again, "Alright, run passive scanners and put the point defenses on standby, Do not power them up beyond standby." Again the pilot followed direction to the letter and in mere moments, Nate's ship was as ready as it could be.
A simple broadcast was made,
"We are not hostile."
On the other ship, activity was abound as well. Coral was pleased to see the union ship before her. She had briefly thought her astro-navigator had miscalculated their course. "Overseer, they are broadcasting their non-hostile intent, but they're also powering up weaponry. How do we respond?"
"We respond peacefully, I will dictate." Coral considered the style with which she would address the union researchers... judging by their current actions, they were as on edge as she herself was. She cleared her throat and began talking.
"Greetings, let us make it known immediately that we ourselves have no hostile intent as well. We have come here to assist in your current investigation. I suggest we discuss the specifics in person."
Nate leaned back from the console and glared towards the Qulseoc vessel. He was pleased to know they weren't hostile but trust was something that didn't come easy in the void. "Put our weapons on passive and lower our shields."
The pilot gave Nate a stern look, "Are you sure you want to do this?"
Nate gave a smug look and shook his head, "Against my better judgement, yes."
From the outside, the rescue ship slowly shifted to its right before finally revealing the entirety of its hull. Directly in the center was an airlock that began to light up. Flashing red lights brought attention to what Nate's next message intended, "Come aboard. No tricks or there will be a problem."
Nate signalled two of his men to fetch their weapons, standard Mk II pulse rifles.. about as average as anything out there but according to public opinion, "Far more than first responders should ever have." Tell that to the men and women that boarded the ship full of cannibals. Well, technically they weren't cannibals because none were of the same species. Nate's decision reflected this history and the ideology that followed, no surprises.
The room attached to the airlock was an emergency medical bay. Two operating tables and automated surgical units were flanked by clunky, gray metal walls with exposed (but shielded) cables. On the ceiling were adjustable examination lighting and various wired devices. And behind all of that was the two automated sentry guns that would overlook the initial meeting.
And this meeting was all Nate could think about. He remembered meeting a Qulseoc once, at least it said it was...
On the Qulseoc side of things, coral was already making preparations. She was moving into the airlock, flanked by two assistants. despite some complaints about her decision none of them were armed. The crew on the other ship was nervous, so bringing armaments, even of a non-lethal kind, was probably not worth the risk. "Engaging safety clamps" The ship's pilot calmly announced. Coral nodded. "Let's get started on draining the airlock,"
One assistant input a short clearance code on the airlock controls, and with a low hum the pumps started draining the water out of the enclosed space. Qulseoc ships were generally filled with an enriched water solution that promoted mental acuity and agile energetic movement. Despite that however, it was still water, a substance most other races would rather not have their ship flooded with. Coral followed the instructions to the letter... stop breathing through the gills, start breathing through the lungs... She heard the coughing of one of her assistants... She would have to chastise him later for skipping out on land walking courses.
They now stood in the dry air. The processed oxygen felt rather cold to coral's mucous skin, she shivered for a moment... how could anyone stand this dryness? The pilot spoke again. "clamps engaged. Airlock secured, you are cleared to go overseer."
The Qulseoc steeled her mind for what was ahead, then she nodded to her assistant to open the airlock. The large bulkhead slowly slid aside revealing a comparatively simplistic airlock opening on the other side. Slowly but steadily, the Qulseoc waddled past the threshold, the bulkhead sliding back shut behind them. There was a brief nervous silence, then the airlock opened, and they stared down the barrels of a set of guns.
Coral was the first to speak. "Greetings... as you can see, we came unarmed, I see you decided not to give the same courtesy on your end... I guess that is to be expected." She looked at her assistant. They were shivering like she was, but she guessed that wasn't just the stark air on their skin. "Now that I stand before you... can we finally get the distrust out of the way and focus on what I came here for? That being advising you on your current investigation." Her tone carried a mix of mild frustration, calm decisiveness, and just the faintest hint of nervous fear. Her reddish-yellow coloration however... suggested fear was currently her dominant emotion
Nate showed no emotion but inside is was pure relief, and intrigue. Beside him, one of his comrades turned away, taking his weapon with him. Nate was quick to dismiss the other in a show of good will. The moment between them to some would be like an eternity before Nate would reply. You'd say it was that good old sizing' one up before acting.
"So yeah, no worries here. but how exactly did you find out about the investigation? And more so, where we were heading?" He was patient on the outside but inside, all he could think about was the investigation and how this new arrival could be used to his benefit.
Coral pondered the human's questions internally. She extended a tentacle to one of her assistants, who handed her a simple data-slate, and made a 3d projection of everything she would share with the federal investigators right now. Sure, she could be totally honest, but she wasn't about to just admit her presence here was somewhat clandestine
Before Nate were a collection of logged extranet pages ranging from crackpot news sites analyzing the 'wo wreck' to page upon page of discussion about the union's official investigation into the matter. " There are a lot of people out there who have made it their life's calling to investigate this region of space and the strange going-ons that happen here. I am amongst them. In fact I have made it my life's work to break through the veil of secrecy that surrounds this region of space... Naturally I jumped at the opportunity to offer my assistance to your government. There were some bureaucratic hitches along the way, but I was eventually directed here to join up with you."
The Qulseoc took a deep breath, the entire explanation had been one breathless string of words. She wasn't used to breathing through the same bodily cavity she talked through. "Now then, I heard something about a virus of some sort being uncovered by your investigation? I've discussed this with my resident cybersecurity expert and he's jumping to join forces with your own code monkeys." Coral gestured to the assistant to her left, who nodded silently. He clutched an advanced data-slate in his tentacles, standard equipment for any Qulseoc that worked with computers as his primary vocation.
Coral took another deep breath... How did barrier talk for so long without pause? she would have to take some courses in speaking without gills when she got back to horve.
For the first time in a long while, Nate was feeling a sense of hope. There wasn't a lot of time though as every second the ships were more susceptible to detection.
"So I take it you do not normally breathe in air like most races.. We have bathing tubs for you and your entourage." He paused for a moment and then bore a smile, "Just don't use all the hot water."
And with a snicker, the remaining union officer holstered his gun and motioned to Corals assistant. There was indeed much to discuss for something as potent as the Wo virus. What devious bastard thought that up...
When Nate began to welcome Coral deeper into the ship, he paused briefly for a simple question, "Is your ship tagging along? for safety's sake id rather not bring the infected devices aboard your vessel." There was another short pause as Nate took a deep breath, "A shame really as your ships computing power is ten fold what we have.. Disconnecting a computer core really can put a hamper on research."
The Qulseoc let out a collective sigh of relief. "Well, Qulseoc are somewhat amphibian, but moving on dry land is sluggish and uncomfortable... yeah, some water to rest in every now and again would be lovely." She was quite impressed with how considerate the union investigator was now that the veil of distrust had been torn away from their meeting.
She looked back to the airlock. "Yes, we will be tagging along. I've brought all sorts of science equipment and it would be a shame to just leave it behind." Coral's computer assistant perked up at the mention of the virus. "If I may interject... I've discussed the matter with the overseer on the way here and have assembled a closed loop machine to use as a testing environment. I've checked the entire machine and am certain that a virus would, at worst, lock the testing environment up without contaminating any outside devices."
The Qulseoc techie had a vibrant excitement to his voice, he was quite obviously as excited as coral was to start work on the investigation proper. "With your permission, I'll start moving and assembling the testing environment here... Should take about half an hour to move the parts in through the airlock."
Aboard the tiny ship, it wasn't long before the majority of things were unloaded and setup. With the two technicians working towards the "Virus" and Nate with Coral preparing to begin their investigation, it was seemingly all clear. Nate ordered the ship ahead and with them the Qulseoc ship followed. Time went by slowly as the crews prepared to interact with their roles.
From nowhere it seemed, the intense thought and focus was broken when the Con officer spoke up, "Hey boss, you got a message.. On a strange encrypted channel." It would be a familiar font to Coral, familiar to her as the one who invited her here in the first place, Horus.
Nate leaned in to read the message, "Hey, This is strange. I've tried to contact command a number of times now to no avail. I figured the signal was just taking its time.. How long has this message been in transit?" The con officer replied near instantly, "Ten minutes." Ten minutes is a very short time in the void.. a short distance that just didn't sit well with Nate. He turned to Coral and gave a piqued brow before turning back to the screen. "Lets see."
---Attention,
"By now you've been introduced to Coral, representative of the Qulseoc. I am pleased that she was so prompt in finding your ship and helping with the investigation. I am pleased that you have travelled out so far into uncharted space to solve this mystery that has eluded most people in the civilized galaxy.
There is information I'd like to pass on and that is the location of what we believe to be a short range SOS from a Union standard escape craft. This will be the easiest place to start your search. My group has assured me that there is no current sightings of 'Wo' in the area but one can never be too careful. We make one request that you leave any weapons powered down as it could be a potential provocation of aggression with a race as elusive as these 'Wo'
The coordinates are as follows,"
Nate sharpened his gaze at the message as the coordinates followed. It wasn't very far at all but he found it odd that they couldn't detect the distress signal. This group definitely had some powerful equipment to detect that signal from that far. I mean, if they were close enough to detect it with a ship, why didn't they go themselves? Though the biggest question Nate had wasn't quite held in,
"Who the hell is 'Horus' and how did he know where we were going?"
Coral had set herself up on Nate's ship to coordinate her assistant's assembly of the equipment they brought. The announcement of an incoming message caught her attention as well, and the familiar font and sender confirmed she had apparently been followed here by her mysterious benefactor.
The mention of an escape pod piqued her interest. Coral was just about to waddle off to her assistants to have the scope of the operation adjusted when Nate exclaimed something that made her turn yellow with worry. Before now she could simply get along with the white lie that the union's government sent her, Perhaps it was time she came clean as well.
"your government was rather dismissive of my assistance. It was this Horus who organized my meeting with you... I don't know who he is or what his agenda is, all I know is that he seems to have an interest in seeing the truth about the Wo and this virus uncovered."
Coral took another deep breath, this time not due to lack of air, but due to the sense of relief telling the truth gave her. She wondered how Nate would react to this confession, nevertheless there were more pressing matters to attend to right now. " Assistant, tell our navigator to start disengaging the airlock. This investigation has turned into a search and rescue. We'll leave the retrieval of the pod to Nate's crew."
The assistant nodded and started talking back and forth through a comm-link. After a moment, he looked back up to Coral. "Our ship sensors are indeed picking up an artificial object at the provided coordinates overseer. We are picking up a distress signal on repeat, patching through now." The assistant fiddled around with his tools, and a female voice sounded through the ship's comms system
"This is Union officer Bri getti requesting any assistance. We are currently without guidance and the pods fuel reserves are low. Please respond, we need assistance."
The assistant gestured that he had something to add to his report. "The ship's captain is reporting interference on long-range scanners. Given our other provided information, we have reason to believe this to be a targeted jamming signal."
Things only got more confusing from there as the two ships closed in on the lonely escape pod. There was no life detected as the pod lazily spiraled into a small dust pocket. It was even more odd how cloudy it seemed to get, almost as if they had passed into a nebula of sorts. Nate didn't like it one bit and those feelings were confirmed when a small silvery disk zipped past the Qulseoc ship. Nate was the first to notice the electromagnetic surges striking the hull of the Qulseoc vessel.
Any signs of power seemed to disappear in an instant as flickering lights went black. Coral would be forced to watch as the craft she rode in on sat helpless. There wasn't any peace for the Rescue ship either when a similar disk darted by. Strangely it did not discharge upon the hull, confusing the crew in every way. Sadly this quiet panic ended with a roar. Alarms sounded as a sound of bashing metal tore through the ship.
One of the pilots pointed at the Qulseoc ship. An huge harpoon like bolt had literally skewered the down the middle with what looked like a giant chain attached to it. What the hell could've done that Nate thought. Armor like theirs pierced with seemingly ease. Then it truly began when the ships instruments began reading a heavy gravity signature directly above them
A looming shadow overtook both ships as a new arrival had quite literally de-cloaked on top of them. It was massive and rough, distinctly off at random points as if multiple ships had been sewn together over the years. Its hull was nearly black as night and when the first gun turret came into view, the gun was wide enough to shoot a full size fighter from it.
"Well hello there." A gruff voice stated. It was somewhat jolly, upbeat and yet seriously calm. "I never really thought this would work." It was as the sound of tearing metal erupted from the airlock. Nate ordered the men to gather their guns but the rush of gas grenades disoriented them long enough that a group of very well dressed soldiers wearing equally well made gas masks. swept the ship.
Two men breached the bridge and shouted to drop any weapons, which Nate's crew quickly complied. It left Nate being the only one holding a weapon. "Great job.." He said softly to his comrades before dropping his gun. The lead man smiled and stepped further in. "Well well what do we have here." He said smugly. From his coat came a small silver sphere that he then tossed to the floor.
The man who appeared as a hologram was the epitome of tall dark and handsome but this man had a far more devious side.
"Please pardon my friends here but it's not every day we are lucky enough to catch two at once and oh my what a treat this is." The male gave a broad toothy grin before speaking once more. "Do you even realize how much Qulseoc females go for on the market? I mean what luck!"
"Fuck." Was all Nate could muster before the man spoke again.
"But where are my manners! My name is Captain Lars of the 'Lady Fortune'. Coral, is it? You'd know me as Horus. I appreciate the generous gift you Union folks have delivered.
Nate turned to Coral, "I cannot believe this." He said with a sarcastic look. "I cannot believe we fell for this." And with a gentle shake of the head and a soft smile he muttered,
"Damn Pirates."
Coral meanwhile, had dropped to the ground in a panic the moment the shooting had started. She had seen how her ship was completely disabled and briefly tried to call them for a damage report. But the de-cloaking pirate ship and subsequent boarding had put a stop to that. When the armed men breached the bridge, all she could do was stammer. "What is this? who are these people? why are they attacking us?!" Her present assistants were much of the same.
She looked back up to see who she assumed to be the leader of the attackers monologue. The market? Did he mean... slavery? The mere thought horrified her, as did considering the possible reasons why she would apparently be worth so much. "You can't do this, we're just scientist and investigators!" Coral tried to make herself look large and intimidating, but even pushed up to her full length, she was pathetically short and lean compared to the pirates.
She simply did not understand why anyone would be so greedy and shortsighted to live a life of piracy, let alone attack peaceful science transports. She thought back briefly to her mentor. An old and wizened Qulseoc that had always warned her for the barbarism of outsiders. How she could slap herself for not listening to her right now.
She looked at the pirates once more. "What are you gonna do to us?" She asked fearfully.
The man grinned and was soothing with his words, or as well as he could be. "It's not really what I'm going to do but rather what the buyer will do. I've heard that some drug up female Qulseoc and have their way. Who knows but.." His seemingly polite, albeit mildly vulgar expressions turned to a furrowed brow flanked by a devilish grin.
"Don't be upset though, its just business."
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SillyGoy Goius Sillius
Member
Seen
2 yrs ago
Union/Wo Border, Eastern Fringes
The Harmony was undoubtedly a crowded place. In every way, one could have described it as a digital metropolis filled to the brim with electronic ghosts, where a solar day in realspace took only a minute to pass there by contrast. It was a place where anything and everything was possible and everyone was a god. Truly a marvel of engineering, the infrastructure required to support such a massive network consumed the very surface of the Wo's homeworld. No forests or deserts or oceans existed anymore to give variety to Hi's appearance. Instead, now it was a ball of black metal glowing with lines of blue light, surrounded by the most sophisticated of orbital defense batteries so dense that xeno astronomers were justified in classifying the deadly formation as the planet's ring - if they somehow found out about their existence.
Ngo Dinh Diem contented himself in the fact that his homeworld's secrecy and security were both absolute and undefeatable. A middle-ranking Guard, he also prided himself in his role to keep the safety of his people true. As such, when he sent out his ghostly tendrils to man his beloved ship, the Auspicious Crane, he felt no sadness in leaving the eternal pleasure of the Harmony. The moans and the laughter, of such great number and intensity that he heard them even within his Brotherhood's cloistered simulation, abruptly ceased to be the moment his conscience was tethered to the Crane's computer architecture. Now there was only the silence of the Void, the twinkling of the distant stars, and the coming-and-going of a steady stream of Harmonic ships from his new perspective by the close orbit of Hi's moon, Kii.
He then felt a shiver throughout the hull. Routine maintenance upon his warship had finished, right on schedule, and the docking clamps of the Great Shipyard had let go of the vessel. The Crane's kilometer and a half of metal was left drifting for a moment, before its thrusters at the rear came to an eerie blue life, and the ship gracefully maneuvered out of its berth. Almost immediately, a far greater warship took the Crane's former place - the battleship Solar Flare, of an incredible fifteen kilometers long, and so wide that it had to be docked right-side up. All the while, Ngo had been conversing with ship captains and other members of the Guard, and particularly with Sun Go-Yang, a well-respected Hero and the commander of the Solar Flare, swapping news and rumors on top of the usual formal dockyard chatter.
It was going to be a routine patrol, just like the thousand others that he'd completed. Yet the monotony of the task would not dissuade Ngo - he was far too disciplined for that. Calm and relaxed but alert, he steadied the Crane before the swirling, hyperdimensional maw of the first relay station, before resolutely setting throttle to full. He closed his eyes, then, as the Crane transitioned into a world of madness. There was no point looking into insanity's face. Only when it was finished did he open his eyes again, a hundred star systems away in an instant, before piloting his cruiser to the next relay station and jumping five more times.
Ren Xei Tang's cruiser, the Benevolent Wyvern, was already at the gate. He flashed his thanks to Ngo for relieving him, and Ngo flashed a you're welcome in return, as courtesy demanded. So began what was going to be a year of patrols as the Wyvern zoomed into the wormhole behind him: a collection of empty moments and grand celestial vistas separated by quick bursts of the hyperdrive.
At least, that was how it was supposed to have gone. On his second hyperdrive jump, the Crane's sensors pinged with contacts - five, in fact. Three uniquely-shaped objects displaying electromagnetic activity consistent with xeno ship operations, and two that appeared to be dead. Of the two deceased hulks, one was of a large size and lodged onto the cratered face of a barren world, while the other, a tiny capsule of sorts, flew freely in a standoff between the three active ships.
Ngo laughed, his curiosity piqued, sending electronic vibrations up and down the spine of his beloved ship. "Well," he thought aloud, "this has never happened before."
Almost immediately then, he gave more power to the laser turrets, waking them from sleep and setting them from pre-heat to active. The Crane's thrusters flared as he set speed from a leisurely three-fourths to the slow battle speed of one-half. Turning the electronic helm, he pointed the bow directly towards the xeno ships. He could see them as clear as day - the dust cloud wherein they lingered was easily defeated by his ship's sensors.
The only thing left now was to send a message, but in what language? He had many to choose from. Indeed, it was wise to have the most recent Murderer Virii send back information to the Harmony as they were destroying an intruding ship's vitals. Of course, the luxury of such sophisticated electronic warfare suites out here on the very edges of Wo space was nonexistent. Here, the task of defense came upon manually-piloted patrol ships.
In the end, Ngo transmitted the message in all the languages installed in his ship's library, playing in sequence and in loop. First it was in Quelsoc, then Savarog, then Sol Standard and so on - but the message was short and simple, and the computer-generated voice that delivered it appropriately menacing:
"YOU ARE INTRUDING UPON HARMONIC SPACE. LEAVE NOW OR BE PURGED."
@Monkeypants@Natsucooldude
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*Disregard*
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