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5 mos ago
Current I'll be gone for about 3 weeks as of 18/06. I might see your message, but I also probably won't be keeping up like I usually do.
5 mos ago
As someone who lost a parent before their time... It's never a bad time to give your folks a call and see how they're doing. One day you're going to say goodbye for the last time.
5 likes
6 mos ago
I think it's also just a sad fact that forum RP has been undergoing a slow but consistent decline for the best part of a decade now. Games that once would have thrived can no longer get the numbers.
1 like
6 mos ago
NRPs are also usually advanced level with tons of writing per post. I co-GM'd one that ended up being the length of one and a half LotR books. That not only takes time, but also makes them fragile.
2 likes
9 mos ago
Bought Helldivers 2 because of the online hype, didn't expect that much. Ended up putting 5 hours into it on my first session. For Super-Earth and Managed Democracy! Oorah!
5 likes

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Ten soldiers, proceeding through Zetan tunnels. These were Unionist soldiers- protectors, more suited to bullying civilians than they were fighting a guerrilla war, and yet here they were. Eta-Theta examined them through the lenses of their new warform, analysing them. Studying them. It had been determined that the standard 'light warform,' was good enough in combat to be iterated upon, changed, and adjusted. With the glut of disembodied Zetans, there had been high demand for forms to take revenge on those that had taken so much from them. If they were honest though... Eta-Theta wasn't here for vengeance. The people they wanted dead for hurting them were in orbit, to be handled at a later date. No, this? This was simply for their own pleasure.

The squad swept through a set of tunnels and passed by a heavy-duty breach-proof door that had been set open. This was their last mistake. No sooner had the last man entered then both sides slammed shut.

"Fuck!" One of them cried out, looking around. "What the hell?"

"They had eyes on us?" Another said, confused and... Concerned. Eta-Theta had no tongue and no lips, but they would have been using the former to lick the latter had they been in their original body. The warform they were in untangled itself from the ceiling and deactivated its magnetic clamps, clattering against the ground loudly. Immediately, all eyes whirled towards it, guns shouldered, but... Eta-Theta was unarmed.

They were not the threat here.

"So glad you could join me today for an experiment." The Zetan felt as one of the men rattled off half a magazine from their gun, sending the warform backwards and against the ground. Thankfully, they didn't feel the pain of the bullets any more- the hardened carapace of the warform weathering the storm well enough to continue talking.

"In approximately fifteen seconds..."

"Wait! Stop shooting." One of the men said, as a magazine hit the floor. "Let it finish, then shoot it. Fucking toaster."

"I have halted the countdown timer. The room you are in now is built directly adjacent to Asphodel-Epsilon's main nuclear reactor. You are being kept safe by our radiation shielding. However... You are trespassers here. Trespassers must be removed." They could see the unease that the men had already.

"The countdown has been resumed. By the time I finish this sentence, you will have been exposed to lethal levels of ionizing radiation. You will have approximately five minutes of lucidity. I recommend you do with it what you can." Eta-Theta felt something stirring within their chest at the reaction that got from the men. Panic. Fear. Anger. It didn't matter though. Already, the warform's internal Geiger sensors were crackling off the chart. At first, the men would feel nothing. Then, heat. Burns would form. The skin blistered. The radiation exposure was cut off, but the dosage had been given.

Of course, the men extracted vengeance on the form that Eta-Theta was in, but they could only pump so many shots into it, and they had larger things to worry about. Soon nausea set in. The contents of their stomachs splashed out against the floor of the room. Hair began to wither, then teeth fell out. They begged, pleaded, and at last collapsed down. When they fell, Eta-Theta rose, damaged micromotors and misaligned servos screeching to pull the warform up and into shape. As the men closed their eyes and were finally excused from their living hell, Eta-Theta picked one of the still living ones up by the throat.

"Just remember. You made us this way." Eta-Theta squeezed down, hard. They had made a promise, and they needed practise. The warform's thumb, even in its damaged state, sunk into the man's throat and tightened his windpipe shut. The man's eyes fluttered in panic, but there simply wasn't much more his body could do. When his eyes closed, the irradiated warform tossed his corpse down.

"You turned me into a killing machine... Who am I to argue with programming?"
| In Collaboration with @Tortoise |


There’s a single, bright line shining overhead. The chairs are steel, and the Zetan’s hands are tied behind it. Across from him are two ECU protectors, one sitting at the metal table and shuffling through files, and the other glaring menacingly from beside the door.

And it’s all clearly a scene taken from an Old Earth, 1950's detective show.

“Look,” the sitting protector said. “I want to help you here, okay? We don’t want this fight. You guys took Bodi from us. We just need some information, and then we’ll let you go home, alright?”

“Forget it, Jo,” her partner cut in. “This tin can probably can’t even talk.”

Eta-Theta was having a bad day. It could have been a lot worse of a day if there had been a problem with their transcendence protocols, but as it was, it was just a bad day. The resistance fighter had been carrying out a subterranean operation when their group had run straight into an ECU patrol nobody else had picked up on- the resulting firefight had left the resistance group wiped almost to a man, and the patrol only barely faring better. Unfortunately, ‘better’ was still good enough to take them captive.

“Alpha-Bodi is a willing refugee. You just wanted an excuse.” They spat onto the floor.

“Where is Alpha-Bodi today, then?”

“Alpha-Elysium, probably.” They frowned.

The protector by the door, whose name is Yun, seems to take a note on his infopad. “I like that you’re willing to cooperate,” he says. “Where is Alpha-Elysium? And how does one enter?”

“It’s the Alpha subsector of the Elysium sector,” Eta-Theta deadpanned. “You get down there by going down the big shuttle, we’ll welcome you the right way.”

Yun rolls his eyes, while Jo slides her infopad across the table. It’s displaying an active map of the Zeta-5, compiled together from orbital data and whatever satellites the ECU has managed to hijack since the blockade started. “Show us on this map where Elysium-Alpha is. If we can get Bodi now, you know, maybe the Oligarchs will be satisfied- and then we can all go home, and your people can be free again. Isn’t that what we all want?”

“You’re destroying our cities, killing our people, ruining our stations and lying about the whole thing, and you think you’ll get me to just give you the location of our first settlement? Burn in Tartarus like your scout teams.”

This time, Jo rolled her eyes while Yun did something. He smiled. The beautiful, big New Hollywood smile that was all teeth and shining.

"Listen, kid," he addressed the Zetan, not because he thought it was a kid, but because that's how protectors talk when they're about to do something intimidating, "we've got some theories about your kind. About how some of you know too much. And the big boys at top are starting to come up with ideas on how to prove it. You wanna be our first test subject? That can be arranged."

There was a long moment of silence. Eta-Theta sat there, eyes staring ahead of them for a few seconds, and then a twitch ran through the side of their face. They slumped down into the chair slightly, then they smirked. “Alright. Test away.”

At that moment, Eta-Theta's head hit the steel floor. Protector Yun had kicked their chair over backwards, and soon was dragging the Zetan out into the hallway by the legs of it. "Alright, you glorified freak, come on then."

They brought them to the only airlock onboard this mid-sized ship. Through the window, you could see Zeta-5 far below.

“Never seen space in person.” The Zetan said, looking out at their planet down below. “She’s… Well, I wouldn’t call her beautiful, but she’s killed more of you than we have, so I suppose she’s due a few compliments.” The cyborg laughed a little.

"Hey, you're about to see her real up-close and personal," Yun growled. This close to killing someone, his act was starting to slip a little. It always did.

The airlock doors wheezed open with a slow hiss. Eta-Theta was briskly tossed in, the chair clanging unceremoniously against the floors.

"Wait!" Jo, who had been following a few steps behind, interrupted. "Are you sure about this?" She paused dramatically. "Those chairs are expensive."

Yun laughed while the doors wheezed back closed.

Eta-Theta was, curiously, equipped quite well for spacing. Not for surviving spacing, no, but with the neural nanobots having fried any and all sensation to their left leg and their arm replacement having taken critical damage, they were never going to simply walk out. Therefore, the best method for going through with this was to transcend as rapidly as possible.

Deep breaths. Eta-Theta had to force out all of the old air as quickly as possible, then fill their lungs. The change in pressure when the airlock doors opened would blow their lungs out rapidly enough. The shock’d knock them unconscious- the lack of oxygen in their blood would begin the transcendence process afterwards. All in all, it would be quick.

They hoped.

Yun's face peered in through the airlock interior door's window, visible from where Eta had landed. "Here's how it's going to go down…"

The ECU had long been theorizing that Zetan individuals were speaking to each other in some covert way. They just too often seemed to know what they shouldn't, or fought in perfect unison without needing to talk at all. Just yesterday, an ECU patrol was spotted by one lone Zetan, and then ambushed by a separate team of warforms only a few minutes later. It was starting to make them suspicious.

"In one-hundred-and-twenty seconds," Yun continued, "this airlock is gonna open up to empty space, and you're gonna be in it or you're not. If you don't wanna be, tell your buddies on the surface to send us a message right now. We know you freaks are talking to each other somehow."

“Open the fucking airlock quicker.” Eta-Theta had never raised their middle finger at someone in Zetan society, but apparently, according to the consciousness, Hollywoodites viewed it as offensive. So, that’s what they did. One middle finger raised directly to the two protectors. “When we rebuild, I’m going to personally crush one of your tracheas.”

Yun only mimed tapping on a watch. Ten seconds passed, thirty, a minute...

The airlock door hissed open, and Eta-Theta had a full lungful of air. There was a muffled popping noise, and from within their chest came the most excruciating pain imaginable. They didn’t believe that this sort of pain was even imaginable let alone something real that your body could experience.

Luckily, their calculations hadn’t been wrong. Their body shut down less than three seconds after the airlock had opened up again. Thirty seconds later, Eta-Theta had re-entered a warform down on the surface of Zeta-5, looking up at where their original form had perished. The two protectors- Yun and Jo, burned into their mind.

As they examined their individually articulated fingers, strong enough to crush cartilage, they wished they still had the ability to smile.




The Zetan response came not from the surface of the planet, but from an old satellite, still hanging in orbit. Summoned to life through old codes and signals, it sent a weak response towards where the Xandalian Republic had made their broadcast.

The message held the coordinates to an unassuming patch of desert, where a single warform had been left. The message assured them it would be activated by the time that talks were meant to begin.




Sigma-Devi was roused from her observation of the war by the recognition that someone aboard the station above Earth was attempting to contact her. Christensen, an envoy from the Xandalian Republic. She set herself down in front of her main desks, signalled for the automated door to open, then watched as the man entered. Their displeasure was obvious from their body language, but her smile and neutral eyes made it clear that her frustration was not with the man currently entering the room.

"Firstly, I must say it's very refreshing to see the Xandalians attempt to uncover the truth of what is happening. The ECU are rabid, they're spacing prisoners, attacking civilian centres, blatantly lying about the entire situation..." She hissed, frustrated. "But enough about my ramblings. I'm sure you have a reason to be here, and we should act properly, regardless." There was a long pause. "What can I do for you?"





@Kuro To be fair, any zombie apocalypse needs to skim over the details of how the military doesn't instantly wipe out zombies. All it would take to kill a horde in most zombie fiction is a single Warthog on a strafing run.
The Consciousness had seen the war preparations. It would be impossible not to. Dr. Bodi had been reassured that none within the Consciousness were upset with him: That the ECU was so unreasonable was not his fault. Now, Sigma-Devi's feet clacked hard against the steel surfaces of the space station above Earth, and she, along with Alpha-Newton, settled in to make an announcement.

"It has come to my attention." She declared authoritatively. "That the ECU has been spreading lies, falsehoods and misinformation about a diplomatic incident that occurred between our nations. As a representative of the Zetan Consciousness, we would like to make it unequivocally clear that under no circumstances would Zetans capture, kidnap or otherwise forcefully take the citizens of another star nation." She paused for emphasis. "Did Dr. Bodi leave the ECU Gateway station on a Zetan vessel? Yes. Is Dr. Bodi currently on Zeta-5? Yes. However." Another long pause, and Alpha-Newton's eye-projector shone out an image of Dr. Bodi, seemingly unaugmented, healthy, and well.

"Dr. Bodi came to us Because he felt he was being mistreated by the Earth Cultural Union authorities. He believed that his health-based prosthetic, the one that kept him alive, was causing him to be discriminated against. He gave us credible proof of this, and asked, quite willingly, to come with us of his own volition. We have not augmented him against his will. We have not tortured him. All we have done is take in a refugee, and like any empathetic, reasonable nation, we did so." She let out a long breath.

"Any military action taken based on this will be considered a violation of Zetan sovereignty, and we will use any and every method at our disposal to protect our people."




Can we safely accelerate transcendence protocols? The group mind was abuzz with war preparations. In the space near the gateway, ships clustered about- swarming like a throng of insects protecting their hive. The Oistos construction site had been hastily disguised, in an attempt to avoid destruction should the worst occur. Colonists on Z and 3 had been busy turning their peaceful surface stations into bastions to protect against ground assault from... And in their minds, work was underway on preserving those who might lose their physical forms in this confrontation.

Theoretically, yes, however... We'd need to stimulate nanite colonies. We know what happens when they get too hungry.

Is that not an advantage? As long as the mind is still fit for transcendence, the nanite surge targeting non-neural tissue could be beneficious for soldiers on the field.

If the nanites were designed for such a thing, yes, but they don't reknit non-neural tissue together properly. They're just not designed for that. We can't build them for everything.

Can we start slower stimulations?

That wouldn't be effective for what we need. We need to ensure individuals who die in conflicts that might start any day now are able to transcend normally.

It has to be rapid then, and if the nanites get overstimulated, we just move them into warforms.

This is... Does this not make us who they think we are?

They forced our hand in this. Don't mistake pragmatism for evil.
| In collaboration with @Tortoise |


All that had happened outwards had drawn the Collectives memory inwards. To long ago- before the 'Consciousness' had had any idea of what they would become, and where he next step they would take in artificial evolution would lead them. Back when Elysium-Alpha had been the only settlement, an eked-out existence a kilometre and a half below the surface. Down there, in the dark, drawing power through thin lifelines up to solar panels, things had been hard.

Much of Zeta-5's life relied on the subterranean environment to provide it cover from the extreme surface world. Like most inhabitable planets, once you got down into the crust, temperatures evened out and weather was no longer a factor. A searfront could roll by your burrow and you'd survive, safe and sound, where the heat wouldn't concern you. The initial tunnels, un-guarded and carved directly into the rock, were prime targets for the deepest of Zeta's burrowing life- large, annelid-looking things, harmless yet terrifying, bastard-born swarms of foul-smelling yet tiny predators, drawn to the vibrations of daily life, and more besides. Firearms were too risky in the enclosed conditions to be used, so instead colonists found themselves fighting back vermin with their tools- hand drills, mattocks and pickaxes.

Back then, hydroponics had been worth giving your life for. The precious seedlings were what sustained the colony- leafy greens, protein-filled mushrooms and nuts, flavourful fruits. What was one life in exchange for the wellbeing of all those in the colony? Such hardships had bonded them closer, but also made them more fragile. Their politicians had become dictators, consolidating power around them and their parties 'for the best' of the colony.

The Collective, when it had first been formed, was little more than the internet in one's head. At first, people were inducted slowly, through exterior gadgets, and only when the technology had improved that it did burrow into their skulls and start to replace their grey matter. Not for centuries had the Collective implanted a fully grown adult, and the technology had advanced oh-so-much since then... But they had a new challenge. Induction.




The ECU would be sure to make this out to be some kind of aggressive action. In truth, it had been Bodi's idea in the first place. Disrespected, ground down and displeased, when it had been made clear that the Zetan ambassadors were no longer welcome in the Cultural Union's borders, they had surreptitiously smuggled out the good doctor with them. Nobody had noticed for long enough for the crew to slip through the gateway and back to the Zeta system, and now, after two weeks in the space between stars, the ship came down towards the surface of the fifth planet from the sun of Zeta.

The Collective was… Unsure if this would work. Normally, induction occurred prior to puberty- prior, in fact, prior to the ability for humans to recall memories when they were older. This was a new one. An entirely new one. The ship that had conveyed their first foreign citizen touched down into Elysium-Alpha to a flurry of activity. No sooner had the doors of the craft opened before they were beset by a contingent of doctors and scientists standing by, all displaying a vast and dizzying variety of augmentations to better serve their purposes. The maglev to the surface had been cleared in preparation for the doctor’s arrival, and although there were no journalists, the entire Collective was tuning in to the show.

“Welcome to Zeta-5,” a tall, handsome, and extremely augmented gentleman declared. “No time to waste: we’re going to try the implants ASAP.”

Dr. Bodi, potential ECU defector and very frightened man, only nodded. "I… see." Ever since meeting the Zetans for the first time six months earlier, aboard the Listening Post he worked on, he felt a deeper connection to them than he ever had in his own nation. The Zetan diplomats were polite and considerate, whereas any Oligarch only treated legitimate scientists as tools to be used or dirty secrets to be hidden.

No, no, it went deeper than that. Any diplomat would be polite. But the ECU once promised the doctor a future, and when his heart gave out and had to be replaced with a prosthetic, attitudes changed. They were so concerned with preserving the human form that even that small replacement was something horrid. It made him less-than-human. New Hollywood hadn't been his home since; they holed him up at the Listening Post, where he met the Zetans.

Dr. Bodi took a deep breath. "Alright. Let's go."

The Mag-Lev spooled up and off the ground, then fired its engines. “This,” explained Bodi’s new guide, “Is Elysium-Alpha. The whole of Zeta-5 is broken down into 3 sectors, each carrying twenty-four subsectors, denoting their viability for life and usefulness to us as colonists. Elysium holds the best, brightest and most valuable sectors, whilst Tartarus holds the least valuable and most dangerous. Most all Zetan settlements are located deep beneath the surface- our hydroponic plants don’t much like the radiation on the surface.”

Bodi chuckled at this. "Our people don't much like radiation on the surface."

“True enough. It’s why we only head to the surface once we’ve shed enough to keep ourselves safe.”

Their vehicle was currently moving just slightly slower than the sound barrier. At this speed, it took only a minute or two to descend down to the main ‘city,’ not that Bodi would be seeing much of it, as they instead hurried to the main medical facility of Elysium-Alpha. Sleek, clean and sterile, the people inside parted to allow the team through.

“We can’t put you under for the operation. It’s simply too risky. We’ll apply a local anaesthetic, but it’s likely it won’t penetrate deep enough to make you entirely numb to the sensation. We’ll try to make it as easy on you as we possibly can.” A long pause. “And, I suppose, the good news is that the brain doesn’t hold any pain receptors.”

Ah, good news. Yes. That's good news.

Bodi briefly considered running away instead. But his mouth instead said "Yes, alright." It was too late to reconsider.

Bodi was unceremoniously stripped and asked to lie down on a custom-produced hospital bed. The headrest had a looped shape to it, keeping his head in place whilst allowing direct access to the back of it and his neck. “Apologies,” one of the doctors said, pulling a strap across his scalp and tightening it down. “This must all feel rather inhumane, but it’s best not to take chances.”

Well, thought Bodi. It could be worse. They could be using even more straps.

More straps applied to his arms and legs, and then, when all was ready, he would feel a cold gel applied to his neck and lower head. The sensation spread inwards, penetrating the skin and sapping sensation away from his flesh, until the entire area couldn’t feel a thing.

“Vital signs reading normal. Elevated heart rate. Nervous?” One of the doctors asked him, although they already knew his answer.

"Oh, you know what I'm thinking already," Bodi answered from the bed. It was meant to be a light-hearted joke, but probably didn't come out that way.

“Preparing site.” There was a quick hissing noise, and then the rather disgusting smell of hair being scorched off. “Don’t worry,” the doctor remarked. “It’s just a medical grade razor. No blade means nothing to sterilise.” Then came the instrument itself. Just one- so innocent, so… Innocuous. A plain metal spike, splitting open to reveal a needle. A large needle, a very thick, sharp, and pointy needle, but just a needle.

“Inserting.” As promised, there was a tweak of pain as the needle eased its way through the numbed portion of Bodi’s flesh, and into the still-sensitive part. Still, it slid deeper, until the man could feel an odd sensation- a piece of metal scratching at his skull.

“Bone reached. You’re going to feel a sharp pinch,” the doctor warned. A muffled click sounded from inside his head, accompanied by a dagger of pain, and then the needle continued past, into the senseless brain matter underneath.

Bodi’s fingers gripped onto the bed as he tried not to scream. That was not a pinch. That was a whole stab into his brain, but at least, it was subsiding as they went deeper. A small mercy. Did they use anaesthetic when they did this on infants? Or was every Zetan traumatized at an early age? Did the Collective carry a group trauma that nobody ever acknowledged?

The man decided to focus on this, rather than all of what was going on around (and now, inside) him.

“Reached grey matter.” There was a long pause.

“Nanite spike deploying.” The plunger was depressed, and the payload of microscopic robots was deployed into Dr. Bodi’s brain. The needle slid cleanly out, the doctor wiping away a dot of blood, then spraying on a sterile ‘foam’ of neutered nanites, which would patch the skull, sew the skin together and then harmlessly pass into his bloodstream to be filtered by his kidneys and deposited as waste. “Right. Nanites are currently dormant. Activation signal in

5...

4...

3...

2...

1...

Activating.”

A few seconds went by. Dr. Bodi started to think it wasn’t going to work, and then, he realized the doctor was thinking the same thing. From a different perspective, anyway, because the Zetan doctor knew much more about…

Wait. Bodi thought. How do I know that?

Picking up nanite surge. They’re multiplying. Neural tissue being modified… the words weren’t spoken, yet Bodi heard them. The same way he heard the thoughts, maybe even the feelings, of the men and women in the room with him. And the adjacent room… and then…

Like a bird’s eye view, but from the level of individuals rather than over their heads, he could suddenly feel the building around him- or, the people within it. He witnessed through their eyes, through the eyes of a man briefly on the surface, hearing through the ears a woman in orbit, and finally, knowing the anxieties of an explorer far, far on the other end of a Gateway.

“...oh,” he said, as if that covers it. “That’s what it’s like.”

Nanite appetite is stabilising, they’re settling into normal transcendence routines. Activating medical nanites… Now… He would feel a tingling sensation as the medical robots did their job. Complete. Welcome to the Collective, Dr Bodi… Or, how does ‘Alpha-Bodi’ sound to you?




Most Zetans no longer feared radiation. The simple fact of the matter was that it posed much less of a threat to humans forged from metal than it did those still comprised of flesh. Replaced organs, dermal coverings and their deeply-dug tunnels kept them safe, even when they left those tunnels for the surface, but there was one part of Zetan society that still had to be kept radiation-free... Their plants.

All of Zeta's half-a-billion strong population was supplied by their farms. A combination of hydroponic, aeroponic and tissue-culture plants were carefully groomed for maximum yields with minimal resources. Although most Zetans took this system for granted, it was oh-so-very fragile. It only took one or two things going wrong for a catastrophic cascade of events to knock out most of Zeta's food supplies, and although they could be regrown and stores would keep Zetans alive, there was no doubt that they were the most vulnerable of all the Consciousness' systems.

Because of this, should fighting enter the tunnels, and Zetans once again had to fight for their homes, their current weapons were unacceptable. The deleterious effects of their fusion batteries were a boon when scorching enemy soil, but down in the tunnels all they would do was seal the Consciousness' doom if improperly used. Thus, the subterranean theatre had required its own developments.

First and foremost was the upgrading of current radiation countermeasures. It had been floated that, against a sufficiently threatening enemy, it might be possible to 'flood' passages and rooms with bursts of gamma radiation. Around 30 grays of ionizing radiation, although invariably fatal within only a few days, could be extremely potent in the short term- just minutes after such exposure burns, nausea, vomiting, headaches and worse would cripple enemy troops, rendering them easy picking for infantry.

Said infantry would need to equip themselves with different weapons to their surface-fighting brethren, and it had been found in classic weapons from old Earth- firearms. The tunnels of their forebearers were far too risky to use firearms in, but Zetans had built them sturdier and safer in the intervening decades. Automatic shotguns and compact rifles, in combination with melee weapons would defend Zetan homes, children, and crops.

They could only pray these preparations were in vain.
Elysium-Psi had become the most violent place on the planet over the past six months. Ranked near the bottom of the Elysium sectors, although it 'flourished' with life when compared to Asphodel or Tartarus sectors, most of it was the kind of large, angry life that Zetans viewed as more trouble than worth to engage with and drive out. The latest initiatives, however, had changed all this. A modified anti-predator form, now simply being referred to as 'light warform,' was stalking across the sand. Its form had been clad in thin, treated leather clothing to keep the exterior somewhat protected from the sweeping sandstorms that could strip layers of skin off like sheets of paper... Not that its prey was having any trouble with the inclement conditions.

At approximately four foot tall from foot to shoulder, and around six foot long, the beast was Ladon- and one of the largest land predators on Zeta-5. Despite its size, its hide had the impressive ability of acting as both ablative and reactive armour. Initially, the thick, rock-like outer layer could keep the Ladon safe from initial strikes, and when that was penetrated its body would immediately 'bloat' out a surge of tissue development in response to the damage. Such a mechanism drained a lot of energy from the creature, but also meant that they were renowned for their toughness...

Until today. The warform brought its gun up to its head- a by-product of its organic inhabitant being trained to do so, and not an actual need to line up sights. Pins on the warform's foot grounded it and steadied it in the whipping air, and then a finger curled down onto a trigger. When it was depressed, an electrical signal rushed up into the weapon's stock and a small ball of steel was dropped into a long, internal groove. Electromagnets on the device briefly flickered on and off, and then, with the crack of a small object breaking the sound barrier, the same ball was sent flying, whistling through the air to carry out its purpose.

The gun itself let out a long hissing noise, jets of steam rushing out of grooves along the gun's barrel. The Ladon, having not heard the 'shot' until far too late, had not moved, the warform approaching it cautiously. The beast's rocklike form had a single, delicate hole in it- punched neatly all the way through and to the other side, where the payload had spiralled through and laded somewhere else. Although the Ladon stood upright still, it was quite dead.

"Reporting weapon test successful."




Above Zeta-5's skies, a different sort of weapon was being devised. News of alien empires, domineering and powerful, and the threat of new human colonies attacking them had meant that Zeta had begun to build its naval forces up once more. The gateways offered a unique tactical challenge- Zeta itself had to become a hardpoint, whilst their navy needed to be a spearhead capable of shattering through an opposing hardpoint and delivering ground forces onto a planet. Troop transports then, needed to be small, fast, and as heavily armoured as they could be without compromising on speed and size. As plans for that had been drawn up, work on the hardpoint had begun.

The usual stations Zetans built would not suffice for such a measure. They needed something that could resist and return large amounts of fire, whilst also supporting point-defence and drone/fighter combat- the Aegis ring. Then, on one of the many, many, many, many moons of Zeta-4, a work had begun. The skeleton of what would become the Oistos defence system had been erected- a great hulk of metal and workers. Working on similar, if greatly magnified, version of the electromagnetic systems their ground forces used, the Oistos was a gigantic rail cannon constructed in the low-gravity, no-atmosphere environment of a tidally-locked moon, and thus, as the weapons system was mounted on a rotating plate, could continually maintain overwatch on the Gateway. Unfortunately, such a large device required tremendous energy, and there was only so much they could store in its batteries. After only one or two initial shots, the Oistos would need to spend precious time rebuilding its banks back up to fire successive shots.

These were, of course, still works in progress. Oistos looked to still be several years from completion, and although the core of the Aegis ring had been rapidly put into place, it was a shadow of what the designers had intended- enough to delay an initial assault perhaps, but no more. Zeta's fledgeling navy was in a similar shape- when combined with the embryotic Aegis ring, the Consciousness could likely just about hold their own system from attack, but could hardly launch a counter-strike. Still, progress had been made, and it had been made just in time with the ECU directly threatening them. It would not stand, and Zeta could not be seen as a mindless aggressor. Luckily, the Meeting Place stood ready for diplomatic posturing.




Sigma-Devi strode out confidently, and with her, the other star nations got a first glimpse of Zetan militarisation. The warforms that flanked her were uniform white metal, and carried ballistic weapons designed for station combat. Humanoid, yes, with the familiar digitigrade legs and individually articulated fingers, but it was bulkier, moved less lightly... And, of course, wore visible military equipment. To standardise the small warforms with regularly augmented Zeta soldiers, the warforms carried their ammunition in chest rigs and had sidearms on their hips... Although, their electrical defence systems had not been removed.

Sigma-Devi herself looked particularly prim and proper today. Taking to a small podium, cameras having been set up previously to record the message as an introduction to other nations, she cleared her throat properly, then began.

"Kindred of the stars." She began, voice warm and filled with emotion. "We are the Zetan Consciousness, a nation that is unequivocally dedicated to the furthering of mankind's knowledge of the universe, and the ability for each and every individual to reap the benefits of such understanding. We stand upon the shoulders of the giants that once inhabited the planet below us, and build on their knowledge and learning, to push back the darkness of ignorance and hatred, and to overcome any obstacle that stands before a brighter future for us, and for humankind!"
@Tortoise

We're not the mechanicus though?

Wait those are toasterfuckers.
<Snipped quote by Tortoise>

That's because they are cute like little puppies. And you don't choose creepy androids over puppies.


We can be cute too! I swear!
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