Arawak — Roleplayer Guild

@WrongEndoftheRainbow
I don't understand them at all to make any relations with them beyond using some of their artifacts.  There likely is a connection with them however, since I get a 'deal with the devil' vibe from them.

@TheSovereignGrave
The risk having a Tikali haven holds is that of being frequently spied on by the Silent Imperium simply because the Silent Imperium tends to assume the worst until proven other wise.  On the flip side a agent may periodically clue your faction's own intelligence services in on potential plots against your society from what they have learned elsewhere.  The Silent Imperium may secretly have a pact with Terminus but is unlikely to ever acknowledge an open alliance.  Even Tikali who decided to set up a independent home world 'prematurely' end up having the Silent Imperium spying on them to a degree.  The Dominion is still out there after all, and you never know what plots they convene to finish what they started.

Little over a millenium ago

Looking down at the world in flames, the rings of death the massive death ships project out extinguishing not only billions but millennia of history and achievements in a matter of days.  The crime unknown.  The mass evacuations left with tens of millions- of course they couldn't stop at destoying billions.  They wanted all dead and begun shooting down civilian evacuation craft.  The ones who fled early were luckier.  As one of the last military craft fleeing away in a move that would normally end with being treated as an enemy in a emergancy blink to another star system flashes out all this Tikali could wonder is,

Is this all that lies in the future of the universe?

He could not dare contemplate further as he begun falling light years away from the agony that consumed what once was a bright, populous world.  What kin he had are all dead, and despite being in a spacecraft jammed with a several thousand individuals he could feel the coldness that now faced himself and his whole kind.  Such optimism there was in the early years, be it the long game he fought in the dirt against metallic monstorities from building to building, the brilliant and firey naval officers in the colonial front- all now extinguished and dead.  For a bit, it owuld have seemed as if a standstill could have been reached.  But they demanded submission and that simply was not an option.  Who would have known they were so mad as to actually enact genocide against a fellow sapient without due cause.  

The war was doomed from the start, in retrospect.  In space they outnumbered and outmatched us, on planets what advantages we had would ultimately be violently struck away by being at the bottom of the well.  Despite the justness of the war, with such an blatantly evil force in the universe, it would seem that running is the only option left.  It is being called a tactical retreat, but the truth is obvious.  There is hardly any Tikali left to fight, the few who can must run or be crushed like all the others.  It had been convened that the Tikali shall take refuge in the grand interstellar void or find a place among the mountains of dead on the grave worlds.  Perhaps to share stories the millions of other societies that have met this fate.

But such fate shall not befall the Tikali as long as there is still Tikali left.

An oath shall be made, one that shall ensure a final victory against these monstrosities who claim themselves a civilization.  And until the day they suffer as the Tikali have, this war will not end unless the universe ends with it.  There is many Tikali left.  Most in hibernation, evacuated personnel of declared importance by the professionals in massive libraries of tubes until a base somewhere far, far from the home world can be made.  The small size of their kind is quite advantageous in regards to space- but even so hardly a few million total Tikali left.  There used to be tens of billions of Tikali.

Once at the outpost, the last Tikali made his oath- and the last 3.4 million Tikali would make it with him, regardless of age or sex, regardless of their standing or views (what few who refused in such a charged environment would be viewed simply as treasonous and executed).

As long as there is a universe, I shall be an enemy of the Chaloneon Dominion.  I shall never surrender to the Dominion no matter the conditions, nor compromise, no matter the reason.  The only mercy I will allow a Chaloneon is a quick death, regardless of their age or allegiances.  And the only future I will give the Chaloneons is the future they gave us- that of annihilation.

I will put every effort into advancing and rebuilding the Tikali kind, even at the cost of my own life.  Until the mission is complete, I shall pledge my life to one of secrecy so as to protect my fellow kin and ensure the mission continues without outside subversion.

I will not set foot on any new world with the intention of starting a new home for the Tikallians until the Dominion is no more, for in a evil galaxy no world is safe from the rings of fire.  To do so is to doom generations to the same annihilation that befell our home, that befell our kind and can never be mended as long as they live.

And I shall ensure that my children reaffirm this Oath, and their children as week, and to continue down to the generation who sees the Dominion forever annihilated.

Present Day

A clear eyed, white chilla lined neck Tikali with a light grey colored chitin accented by bluish spots lays on a circular bag looking at highly stylized paintings while blowing on a rigidly patterned brass tube marked in hundreds of triangles, emitting a mist-like fog from the pipe in total misery.  He cranes his head at the paintings once more, at the shifting patterns and baroque nature of it all.  The ancient past having to be lived over and over again, so taxing on the mind that comfort is needed.  Sapas however, is interrupted from his session when a silvery, bugger eyed fellow hovers on over and starts spewing out questions.

"What are you doing here at this moment?" it asks.

His focus hesitantly shifts to this eager little mecha-Tikali and tells it "Simply piping some mist, reflecting on our fucked up past and lamenting not having my pet Incidi with me right now.  Another damn sucker's between my midlegs.  It's irritating."

"But what of the mission to gain intel on the undocumented Species who has emerged in the Spindle?"

"Look, the Spindler peoples are not my jurisdiction.  I'm an assassin.  My family has been killing Chaloneon bureacrats aimlessly for the past several centuries as per the ballheaded at top demanded.  If you have a Spindler you want dead, speak with me.  If you simply want to blow mist, speak with me.  But I am not on duty and will not be impressed into it, i've already nearly died a dozen times when young from those shitty frontier missions that did fuck all for the Grand Mission beyond irritate some slave traders in the lower sectors and may even have irritated those computers who like pretending to be gods.  Anyways, when's the part we massacre the Chaleoneon children by frying their brains out?  I've been told we were suppossed to do that."

"It is good to notice you are using your newly attained free speech privileges.  But, remember what they did and what they have done to others less fortunate than us.  They killed our children, they killed the children of the Irkorn tribes, they pretty much kill the children when they go around throwing rods at less advanced societies like the butchers they are. We aren't the only civilization the Dominion has tormented and there is more evil in the galaxy than just the dominion." the silverly Tikali replies as it just looks down upon the mist piping assassin.

"Good thing we are very fortunate than." He replies before a message appears in his eyes.  It is a call to action.

"Well, looks like idling is no longer a issue here, please move along and find more arguments to copy in your conversations, I've heard these ones over thirty times now." Sapas says to the machine Tikali before jolting up from his slump and rapidly skittering to the hangar.

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oZode's ghost

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