Smike

Noble Arms - The ASEAN War

Why not, I’ll bite!

Innocence Lost - A Science Fantasy RP [v.03]

Ki'Tlex

---

Ki'Tlex had spent the week acclimating themselves to their new home, their new team. And if they were being honest neither was much different than what they were used to. Cramped quarters that were slightly too small for everyone in them, lots of sitting around waiting for something to happen, and the knowledge that they'd be massively outnumbered whenever it did. Interstellar piracy and galactic terrorism shared similarities in terms of mechanics if not morality, or at least perceived morality.

Ki wasn't so delusional as to pretend that their previous career was better than their current one but they did wonder about the ethics of the shadow war they were now fighting. Even accounting for the vast differences in Kel'ta and Human aging the 'Star Marines' were very young. Lethal no doubt, but adolescents nonetheless. Most cultures would not think to recruit their young unless the stakes were truly dire, salvation or destruction hinging on every last able-bodied person picking up arms. Besides the loss of innocence there were practical concerns as well, the wisdom of teaching someone whose brain was still developing how to kill dubious at best.

That last point seemed especially important considering the string of disasters that had hit the little insurgency recently. But Ki'Tlex wasn't there to critique morals or second-guess Moonstrike's choice in troops. They wanted to see how their new organization worked in the field.

They had listened impassively to the Fool's briefing, taking note of the fact that they were being given the unenviable job of putting their foot on a landmine to see how much pressure it could take before going off. Fair enough, they could do that...it just would have been nice to have their anti-personnel/vehicle/light aircraft robot with them. The one that was practically invulnerable to small arms fire, could cast magic, and carried a giant shotgun that fired half-pound shells. That would have been helpful.

Ki'Tlex saw Anne as an investment and a dear one at that. They had risked their life snatching her out of the Ascendancy's armory and done so again boosting the parts needed to make her operational. And then there was the pile of credits that had been dumped into repairs and rearmament, a sizable sum spent on making sure their tool was in the best condition so that it would serve them well. Having it taken from them, even temporarily, rubbed Ki the wrong way. Oh well. Divide and conquer, try not to get divided and conquered in turn. Oh and keep the infant they were lugging around from getting spaced. That would be unfortunate.

Ki kept their selfish thoughts firmly on their side of the dividing line, vague disappointment at being separated allowed to reach Anne without any of the deeper context behind. AI was tricky, prone to forming its own opinions and goals if not watched. Ki did their best to nip any of that in the bud by feeding Anne lies, and Anne was evidently content to believe them.

Queen Anne's Revenge

---

A mission! She going to go out on an actual real-life mission with a proper chain of command and everything! No more running combat simulations in her head or analyzing her weaponry for any inconsistencies, she was actually going to go out and get shot at! Wafer-thin circuitry transmitted impulses through a matrix of chips and wires, the informational input filtered past her artificial conscious so that it spit out an emotion: excitement. She was excited to go out into the field, excited for a chance to prove herself to her new friends and her best buddy Ki.

Anne was keenly aware of the fact that she had been designed to take pleasure in combat ops, her Ascendancy programming entirely reworked but not scrubbed clean. She was supposed to find war fun so that she was easier to order around and she didn't mind that. She had certain requirements she needed to fulfill just like actual living creatures did. The problem was that the loosey-goosey hit-and-run pirate stuff she had been doing for the past decade had been to her what a diet of dry toast would have been to Ki. Now she would be getting a proper meal with salt and pepper and the metaphor was getting away from herbutshewasjussoexcitedtofinallygettobeinarealwar-!

Anne. Please.

Whoops. The rush must have bled over.

Sorry! I just can't wait!

The apology was met with a wave of forgiveness, Anne taking the nonverbal assurance as a cue to go back to walking. The trudge of metal boots over the ship's deck was drowned out by the sound of Joey's briefing, Anne playing the key bits back to herself.

...assist Moonstrike in this Civil War...Nirrti, Queen Anne, myself...Shineyd... right into a warzone...fire right back... rebels just like us...

A flash of amusement rose from Ki's end of the connection before dying down. Anne took notice, pushing a wordless query that was answered by a flood of information. Information, images, feelings, and memories were piled in front of her to be sorted through, all of it run by her learning systems and compared to the swaths of the Net she had archived. It took nanoseconds for a meaning to be worked out:

Infighting is a bad sign in an insurgency. It weakens all groups.

That was true. And Anne did want Moonstrike to win soooooo...she'd just have to end the fight fast.

She walked on, Ki trailing behind her while tending to the baby they had so nobly taken on. Anne could confidently say that Kottle was a good kid, having cross-referenced their behavior and apparent intelligence with pediatric sources on several species.

As luck would have it they wouldn't be splitting up immediately, Anne's squadmate engaged in conversation with Ki's.

"Oh, I can use it though! My RoEs are very open-ended, specifically designed so that I can interpret them as I see fit. In fact-"

"She means 'hello, they and I are looking forward to working with you and them.'"

Ki's relative monotone silenced Anne's artificially gruff one, the machine grateful that she had her friend around to keep her in check. At least she had remembered to keep her volume down this time, speaking in more of a stage shout than an ear-splitting siren.

"Right! I'm looking forward to seeing you in action Nirrti, and I hope you two have fun on your missions."

@FalloutJack @Senhara @jdh97

Innocence Lost - A Science Fantasy RP [v.03]

Updated with additional information, grammatical edits

Kel'ta

Name: Kel'ta

Status to Humans: The Kel'ta tend to see humans as painfully attached to bloated systems of governments and causes so large that they are far removed from any actual individual impact. This is exacerbated by the massive difference in lifespans. Outside of that, it is impossible to determine a generalized outlook from so individualistic a species.

Life expectancy: In terms of biology they are functionally immortal as far as anyone can tell but they tend to 'socially' die every two or three hundred years. Generally, by the time they're biologically five or six thousand they simply lose interest in living and drop dead.


Genders: Kel'ta clans do not have a concept of gender. While individuals who come into contact with other species might adopt a role for themselves the vast majority of Kel'ta don't.

Full Description:

Physical Appearance
The Kel'ta are a carnivorous humanoid species. Their skin tends to range in color from red to yellow to orange but it is common for them to stain some or all of it in a different hue. Both males and females of the species bear horns and have six limbs: one pair of legs and two pairs of arms, a set of which usually remain folded behind the back and hidden by clothing when not in use. The Kel'ta tend to stand taller than other species with the average height being 7'4" in the Imperial system. A hardy species built for climbing the crags of their homeworld the Kel'ta are capable of feats of strength such as bending metal or crushing rocks in their bare hands. The nails of their fingers and toes are harder than human keratin, capable of being gouged into stony cliffs for use as makeshift pitons.

^{Artist: Phobs}

Culture
Kel'ta culture is highly individualistic in nature, to the point where the rarely used 'we' is usually replaced in conversation with "Myself and them". The Kel'ta put a premium on the ability to go anywhere and do anything. To ensure that this remains possible even after decades of being slowly tied down by habit and bonds with others they practice a tradition known as the Social Death. After a certain amount of time spent living one life (usually three centuries or thereabout) a Kel'ta will abruptly drop everything and move. Sometimes they say goodbye to acquaintances and sometimes they don't but every Social Death results in the Kel'ta forming a new personality with corresponding likes, dislikes and attitudes while also changing their physical appearance. The physical change can range from simply styling their hair in a new way and adopting a different form of dress to extensive body modification so that there is no trace of the previous version.

There is no word for country in the Kel'ta language, neither is there any for nation, kingdom, empire or state. They lack a unified religion or code of law, rejecting anything that would bind them into one political entity. The closest they get to any sort of overarching structure is their tradition of so-called 'false families.' When not traveling alone the Kel'ta move in groups as small as two and as large as a few hundred, forming temporary clans with a shifting membership. Kel'ta will eventually undergo a social death and leave their current clan wordlessly and wander until they find another to be a part of for another few centuries. This constant shifting of allegiance means that clan feuds, while still deadly, won't last thousands of years.

Since the advent of interstellar travel Kel'ta have been leaving their homeworld to live out new identities among the stars, joining with one of the spacefaring clans or simply setting out on their own. In either case they tend to pick itinerant professions. Mercenary, scout, smuggler, merchant, pirate and performer are all fairly popular trades for roaming Kel'ta. Despite what is often assumed by those with little knowledge of the culture Kel'ta are perfectly capable of working in groups and taking orders from superiors. However, they rarely if ever see themselves as being a part of the gang or company that has brought them on board, preferring to be referred to as auxiliaries.

Reproduction and Family
The Kel'ta are one of the few species of vertebrates that are synchronous hermaphrodites, each member has both male and female reproductive organs. This is an evolved trait that compensates for the harshness of the Kel'ta's homeworld. Since each Kel'ta can sire or carry young there will never be an imbalance in sexes, making it easier for the species to carry on to the next generation.

When a Kel'ta pairing decides to propagate they'll agree on who is the carrier. That half of the pair is essentially confined to the home for fourteen months, the strain of pregnancy making the already rough environment of Kel extremely dangerous. Any intensive physical labor such as hunting or scavenging will be handled by the other partner.

Once the whelp is born both partners are, at least in theory, tied to the family unit until it's matured into an adult. This takes roughly fifty years, the first half of which it spends as a helpless infant before rapidly maturing. The parents teach the offspring the basics of survival and whatever trades they practice during that iteration of their existence so that the child has a basis off which to build an identity.

It's not uncommon for one or both parents to undergo the Social Death at this point, the successful raising of a child often seen as a good note on which to end. The First Self will generally live out its life in the clan it was born into, getting a feel for adulthood in a familiar environment. Eventually they'll become restless, change themselves and head out to continue the cycle elsewhere.
-------------------------------------------

Type of society: Clan-based, loosely structured. The Kel'ta do not use money among themselves, trading only in goods and services.

Technological advancement: The planet Kel is a graveyard of some ancient civilization, ruined ships and war machines buried in the sand and imbedded in stone crags. Whether the Kel'ta are descendants of this lost society or entirely unrelated matters little to them when there is valuable tech to be harvested. Due to their nomadic lifestyles homeworld based Kel'ta lack mass production or mass industry but make up for it in mechanical artistry. They refurbish, replicate, repair and retrofit gear dug up from the dead civilization and adapt it to suit their own needs alongside the same ancient methods they've been using for millennia. It isn't uncommon for hunters to use scent-dogs to track large game which they then bring down with plasma weaponry while cybernetically augmented warriors make use of personal railguns and knives carved from the ribs of some creature.

Whether it's a sled pulled by beasts or burden or electrically powered scout bike Kel'ta creations are of high quality.
--------------------------------------------

Miscellaneous: The Kel'ta are biologically immortal due to their rapid production of the enzyme telomerase. This protects their DNA from denigrating over time which in turn allows the regeneration of cells to continue infinitely. While it's impossible for one to die of old age disease and severe trauma will still kill a Kel'ta as they would any other species.

The Planet Kel

Planet Name: Kel

World Type: Consisting mostly of barren deserts and arid crags with scattered seas breaking up the landmass.

Classification: Class R

Moon: Kel lacks a moon.

The Civilized Populace: The only known people currently living on the planet are the Kel'ta. While there was at one point another population very little is known about them. They were likely a very localized power who had little if any contact with civilizations outside their system and their relation to the Kel'ta, if any existed, is unknown. As such the Kel'ta just refer to them as the Forebears.

Population: Roughly 1 billion Kel'ta live on the planet in loose clans.

Tourism: The only 'tourists' that visit are outlaws trying to hide from the authorities and the occasional archeologist or anthropologist looking to study the Kel'ta and the Forebears. The Kel'ta treat both of these groups as oddities, trading with them when possible and driving them off when required.

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

System Name: Terval
Star Class: F2 class sun
Planetary Bodies: Counting Kel there are four planets in the system. In theory all of them could be terraformed for large scale colonization but the benefits of doing so would be few. Pockets of natural resources can be found but not enough to warrant the effort.
Location: 42307 lightyears from Earth.

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

Landmasses: The planet is roughly 80% dry land. There are no broken off landmasses as seen on other planets in the form of continents, simply vast tracts of empty desert and long mountain ranges of red rock. The monotony of the terrain is broken up by the appearance of wrecked space vessels and cities left abandoned by the Forebears, glistening spires of glass and metal containing the leftovers from a long disappeared society.

Waters: While it lacks anything large enough to be called an ocean Kel does support life through the thousands of major oases that dot its surface. Fed from deep wells of groundwater these serve as landmarks for the traveling clans. The larger ones can have rivers leading to or from them.

Notorious Monsters/Creatures: The ultimate monster on Kel is the Tlex'it, known as the Sand Stalker by superstitious children. A quadrupedal lizard standing at nine feet tall and weighing easily six or seven tons, it comes equipped with razor sharp teeth and claws that can tear through armored vehicles. Tlex'it are capable of taking down almost anything through brute force but prefer to stalk their prey. They're intelligent creatures, often wearing down their victims in hit and run attacks until the unfortunate animal collapses from exhaustion and is thus helpless.

The Tlex'it will prey on domesticated animals when given the chance so the Kel'ta form hunting parties to deal with individuals that get too close. A clan seeking to protect their herds will make use of coilguns and high explosives, far more interested in making sure the target is dead than they are preserving its corpse. Those looking to make names for themselves will undertake the hunt with simple big bore rifles or technologically enhanced bows, powerful weapons in their own right but not even close to enough for it to be an even playing field.

~ Valkyria Chronicles - Changing of the Guard [Pt. 2 - Open] ~

He had noticed the other Alex's gaze fall to the heirloom he still carried, the weight evidently too much for his friend to bear. "What else could they do? They weren't going to let a Vinlander lead one of Gallia's proudest regiments, not that there was much of it left to lead after that."

Alex was mildly impressed by the ease at which he was slipping back into the rhythms of the old Imperial tongue. Many of his journal entries were written in that language but it had been some time since he had actually spoken it. Perhaps the shock was to blame, his brain so rattled by the resurrection he was witnessing that it didn't have time to stumble about. It found the words it needed instead of wasting time.

The "explanation" explained nothing. Alex kept his face devoid of emotion, responding to the non-answer with clinical impassivity. "I see." He of course saw nothing but he would simply have to deal with the blindness for the time. Alexandre's assertion, while charming in its poetic notions of camaraderie blessed by the heavens, seemed inaccurate.

Alex played along, breaking his mask so that a genuine snicker could shine through."The Valkyrur haven't ever looked on a Darcsen with anything less than disgust, it's the reason we're in this mess to begin with. Let's hope they like you enough to keep from smiting me for another day."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
And then the time came.

The Captain kept it simple, relaying the orders without explanation or expectation of questions. It was best that way. Alex's wartime service had taught him a very important lesson that training had neglected to instill: to find the intelligence of the average soldier one simply had to take the average civilian and cut whatever intellect they had in half. In the case of fractions you always rounded down. There were plenty of cunning soldiers to be sure, every branch absolutely infested with card sharks, smugglers and men who could could concoct all manner of schemes to shirk their assigned duties but the fact of the matter was that the Federation didn't sent its most educated to die in the trenches.

At least not without an officer's cap and a pistol at their side.

Captain Middleton spoke to the sensibilities possessed by every trooper, the ones instilled by boot camp if nothing else: kill them quickly and get back in one piece. His orders were dumbed down for the lowest common denominator and thus there was no excuse for failure. Everyone knew what they had to do, the only question was how many of them would come out of it alive. As much as Alex would have liked to say 'all of them' that killjoy common sense kept him from jumping to conclusions. The brass had proven his theory about military intelligence by assigning snipers and machine gunners to a close-quarters raid where there would be no time to compensate for mistakes born from a lack of experience fighting up close.

Things would be interesting, he was damn sure about that.

He felt naked without his rifle but had decided against trying to the maneuver the thing in the confines of the trenches. At those ranges the showpiece pistol his father had given him would do well enough. A knife tucked in his waistband and a couple of grenades were the only other weaponry he brought. He could manage with them just fine.

Unless of course the fool gunner ruined things by bolting in without support, there was little he could do about that.

The sergeant watched as she dropped into the trench with no plan and no backup, all sorts of violent words swarming around his head before being distilled into an urgent command.

"White! Make sure she doesn't get killed."

It was punctuated with a gunshot, Alex drawing a bead on the poor Imperial nearest to him and blowing his brains out of his skull.



"On it."

Oh sure, send the Occie ahead to babysit the psycho dirt-hair, of course. Victoria hadn't been involved with the whole Breached Gates shitstorm but it still found ways to ruin her life. After that mess her nationality just put a target on her back, a big fucking sign that read 'Forlorn Hope here! Will take part in suicidal charges for shit wages!' What gave it away? It was probably the hat. Well, that and the fact that she was huge and had a background in street brawling. And her specific training based around fixed bayonet, whites-of-the-eyes type close-in killing.

Ah the life of a shocktrooper. She lived for that stuff.

Boots slid across muck-coated wood and bits of brain matter, Victoria scrambling forward like a rat who had sighted a defenseless chick. There had been no chance of their whole team slipping into the trenches unnoticed, thus why the boss-man had wasted one of the enemy already with his giant .45. The game now revolved around a simple question of speed. Could the Feds get what they needed before the Imps swarmed in and shot them all to death? Could the Imp that had just watched his friend die recover his wits and get a shot off before Vicky flattened him?

As it turned out the answer to that second one was no. Victoria had simply surged ahead too quickly and planted her bayonet inside the unfortunate boy's belly. A couple hundred pounds of madwoman putting all her weight into the stab forced the air from his lungs, the scream his body wanted to release nothing more than a choked gurgle.

Two down and more to go.

Innocence Lost - A Science Fantasy RP [v.03]

@Smike, Approval One has been given on Discord and also being given here.

@Letter Bee

awesome, appreciate it

Innocence Lost - A Science Fantasy RP [v.03]

Shevastol

Name: The Shevastol, or the Forebears

Status to Humans: As far as humanity is concerned, the Shevastol are a long dead species. The ruins on Kel that are not entirely picked clean or squatted on by the Kel'ta clans don't reveal that there were any survivors after the end of their civilization. To the handful or so of Shevastol that exist in the present day humans are just one of many upstart species who became great while their ancient and noble people are doomed to extinction.

Life expectancy: Assuming that there are no complications the modern Shevastol generally live to be about seventy. While their bodies process nutrients with extreme efficiency they are a fairly fragile species whose bloodline is by this point riddled with genetic defects from catastrophic inbreeding.

Genders: The Shevastol tie gender to biological sex and thus have two: male and female.

Full Description: Due to the low gravity of their homeworld the Shevastol are long-limbed and hollow boned, their species lighter than many others since there was not much gravitational force for them to withstand. The average modern Shevastol stands at about seven feet tall, stunted compared to the towering nine foot statures of their "pure" ancestors. Compared to humans their eyes are extremely small and sunken into their face, giving them poor vision which they compensated with by mechanical enhancement of the senses.
^{Artist: Jerad Marantz}

How it All Went Wrong: The Shevastol were established long before Earth supported intelligent life, already having established an interstellar empire by 37524 BCE. While relatively conservative in their expansion efforts (they only ever pushed into two solar systems outside their own) they were fairly vicious when it came to protecting what they considered to be their spheres of influence. They came into conflict with the Kaisoken a number of times along with countless other lesser species. Many of those would simply be scooped up and converted into manpower, serving as conscripts or simple manual labor in hazardous situations that would be too dangerous for the comparatively dangerous Shevastol.

It was their inherent frailty that did them in. The empire came into conflict with a small but tenacious species of amphibians known as the Tittlikits. The Tittlikits were noted for their extenssive understanding of chemical and biological warfare and fell back on their knowledge when faced with a superior enemy. The Shevastol erased the Tittlikits from existence on all but a few backwater worlds but not before some of their forces were unknowingly infected.

The virus had been engineered to lay dormant for years, allowing vectors to spread the disease before the first symptoms even showed. After roughly five years the carrier would experience coughing, nausea and chest pains. Death occurred in two to three days. The resulting pandemic sent the Shevastol's population numbers into a catastrophic freefall, losing about eighty percent of their total population.

In the meantime, the species they had enslaved sensed weakness. The disease had been formulated for the fairly weak Shevastol constitution while the species the Shevastol used for slave labor tended to be hardy. Thus while their were casualties among those groups they were far from the losses suffered by the Shevastol.

By this point the Shevastol had four main slave species:
-the Rordors, an avian species noted for their sharp talons and ability to regurgitate a noxious bile as a weapon.
-the Eventi, snake-like creatures who coil their enemies in their tails and crush them to death before swallowing them whole.
-the Kel'ta, a hardy species of climbers and hunters from from an arid desert planet who could break and bend steel with their bare hands.
-the Michus, a small rodent species notable for their incredible burrowing capabilities and the speed at which they reproduced.

All four species had been essentially kidnapped during their Iron Ages and kept in line by the superior technology and numbers of the Shevastol. But with the Shevastol devastated by the plague and their systems of communication thrown into disarray the Treasonous Four seized the moment and lashed out. The resulting war pitted the frail Shevastol against four much tougher species who had spent millennia as laborers and foot soldiers who had both the advantage in numbers and nothing to lose. Unsurprisingly it went poorly for the Shevastol.

One by one the planets they held were scorched and abandoned, the empire pushed back to the homeworld of the Kel'ta. It was at Kel where the final preparations to flee where made, a desperate raid launched to capture a number of Nominken whose lack of intelligence and raw magical energy made for a perfect power source. The few Shevastol that remained spent the last of their resources constructing what was essentially a biological logic bomb, their numbers dwindling as the Kel'ta pushed deeper and deeper into their lines.

In the end the Shevastol managed to escape, the device wiping the memory of their existence from the minds of their former slaves. Now numbering only in the hundreds of thousands the Shevastol scattered, splitting up into small groups so that they couldn't be found. Time would see their numbers dwindle further and further, inbreeding ensuring that by the modern day there is little hope of them ever resurfacing.
-------------------------------------------

Type of society: At the height of their power 30,000 years ago the Shevastol were an interstellar technocratic empire. While most of them lived on strategically placed space stations or traveled on large habitat vessels a core force of the species' best and brightest were stationed on the home world of Tes IV to serve as a governing body.

The Shevastol of today have fallen far from that peak. With their numbers reduced dramatically by a weaponized epidemic followed by violent uprisings by subjected species that took bloody vengeance for years of captivity the few remaining Shevastol were forced to scatter and their numbers have only dwindled since. They have no overarching civilization, just a few scattered groups trying to prolong their existence.

Unsurprisingly reproduction is extremely important to them but fraught with difficulty. In perfect conditions it takes five years for a clutch of eggs to hatch and even a few degrees too hot or cold can render them useless. And even in cases where the clutch is kept safe only in one ten eggs will actually hatch, producing offspring that will likely die in a few years due to genetic degradation. Cloning is not feasible for the Shevastol, the process requiring a better DNA template than they have access to (to say the nothing of the cost or unlikeliness that they'd be able to set up a clone production facility considering their refusal to work with the 'lesser' races.)

Technological advancement: The Shevastol were once extremely technologically advanced, making use of FTL drives as opposed to the now more common wormhole systems and even having access to specially formulate materials that could nullify magic. The total destruction of the Shevastol empire came with the the loss of most of their technological prowess. With their brightest minds centered in the capital world of Tes IV, an obvious target for angry slave species< they lost nearly all of their greatest innovators and scientists. Those who did survive couldn't overcome the fact that they had nothing to work with. Being a brilliant biochemist matters little when you lack the equipment to make use of your field.

Now the Shevastol make do with what they find, equipment that is often outdated and on the verge of breaking down entirely. It enrages them to know end that their old subordinates the Kel'ta have plenty of powerful "Forebear" technology to pick through while the creators languish in rusty puddle-jumpers and have to defend themselves with underpowered laser weaponry or whatever else they can scrounge up.

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

Smike's Sheets

Shevastol

Name: The Shevastol, or the Forebears

Status to Humans: As far as humanity is concerned, the Shevastol are a long dead species. The ruins on Kel that are not entirely picked clean or squatted on by the Kel'ta clans don't reveal that there were any survivors after the end of their civilization. To the handful or so of Shevastol that exist in the present day humans are just one of many upstart species who became great while their ancient and noble people are doomed to extinction.

Life expectancy: Assuming that there are no complications the modern Shevastol generally live to be about seventy. While their bodies process nutrients with extreme efficiency they are a fairly fragile species whose bloodline is by this point riddled with genetic defects from catastrophic inbreeding.

Genders: The Shevastol tie gender to biological sex and thus have two: male and female.

Full Description: Due to the low gravity of their homeworld the Shevastol are long-limbed and hollow boned, their species lighter than many others since there was not much gravitational force for them to withstand. The average modern Shevastol stands at about seven feet tall, stunted compared to the towering nine foot statures of their "pure" ancestors. Compared to humans their eyes are extremely small and sunken into their face, giving them poor vision which they compensated with by mechanical enhancement of the senses.
^{Artist: Jerad Marantz}

How it All Went Wrong: The Shevastol were established long before Earth supported intelligent life, already having established an interstellar empire by 37524 BCE. While relatively conservative in their expansion efforts (they only ever pushed into two solar systems outside their own) they were fairly vicious when it came to protecting what they considered to be their spheres of influence. They came into conflict with the Kaisoken a number of times along with countless other lesser species. Many of those would simply be scooped up and converted into manpower, serving as conscripts or simple manual labor in hazardous situations that would be too dangerous for the comparatively dangerous Shevastol.

It was their inherent frailty that did them in. The empire came into conflict with a small but tenacious species of amphibians known as the Tittlikits. The Tittlikits were noted for their extenssive understanding of chemical and biological warfare and fell back on their knowledge when faced with a superior enemy. The Shevastol erased the Tittlikits from existence on all but a few backwater worlds but not before some of their forces were unknowingly infected.

The virus had been engineered to lay dormant for years, allowing vectors to spread the disease before the first symptoms even showed. After roughly five years the carrier would experience coughing, nausea and chest pains. Death occurred in two to three days. The resulting pandemic sent the Shevastol's population numbers into a catastrophic freefall, losing about eighty percent of their total population.

In the meantime, the species they had enslaved sensed weakness. The disease had been formulated for the fairly weak Shevastol constitution while the species the Shevastol used for slave labor tended to be hardy. Thus while their were casualties among those groups they were far from the losses suffered by the Shevastol.

By this point the Shevastol had four main slave species:
-the Rordors, an avian species noted for their sharp talons and ability to regurgitate a noxious bile as a weapon.
-the Eventi, snake-like creatures who coil their enemies in their tails and crush them to death before swallowing them whole.
-the Kel'ta, a hardy species of climbers and hunters from from an arid desert planet who could break and bend steel with their bare hands.
-the Michus, a small rodent species notable for their incredible burrowing capabilities and the speed at which they reproduced.

All four species had been essentially kidnapped during their Iron Ages and kept in line by the superior technology and numbers of the Shevastol. But with the Shevastol devastated by the plague and their systems of communication thrown into disarray the Treasonous Four seized the moment and lashed out. The resulting war pitted the frail Shevastol against four much tougher species who had spent millennia as laborers and foot soldiers who had both the advantage in numbers and nothing to lose. Unsurprisingly it went poorly for the Shevastol.

One by one the planets they held were scorched and abandoned, the empire pushed back to the homeworld of the Kel'ta. It was at Kel where the final preparations to flee where made, a desperate raid launched to capture a number of Nominken whose lack of intelligence and raw magical energy made for a perfect power source. The few Shevastol that remained spent the last of their resources constructing what was essentially a biological logic bomb, their numbers dwindling as the Kel'ta pushed deeper and deeper into their lines.

In the end the Shevastol managed to escape, the device wiping the memory of their existence from the minds of their former slaves. Now numbering only in the hundreds of thousands the Shevastol scattered, splitting up into small groups so that they couldn't be found. Time would see their numbers dwindle further and further, inbreeding ensuring that by the modern day there is little hope of them ever resurfacing.
-------------------------------------------

Type of society: At the height of their power 30,000 years ago the Shevastol were an interstellar technocratic empire. While most of them lived on strategically placed space stations or traveled on large habitat vessels a core force of the species' best and brightest were stationed on the home world of Tes IV to serve as a governing body.

The Shevastol of today have fallen far from that peak. With their numbers reduced dramatically by a weaponized epidemic followed by violent uprisings by subjected species that took bloody vengeance for years of captivity the few remaining Shevastol were forced to scatter and their numbers have only dwindled since. They have no overarching civilization, just a few scattered groups trying to prolong their existence.

Unsurprisingly reproduction is extremely important to them but fraught with difficulty. In perfect conditions it takes five years for a clutch of eggs to hatch and even a few degrees too hot or cold can render them useless. And even in cases where the clutch is kept safe only in one ten eggs will actually hatch, producing offspring that will likely die in a few years due to genetic degradation. Cloning is not feasible for the Shevastol, the process requiring a better DNA template than they have access to (to say the nothing of the cost or unlikeliness that they'd be able to set up a clone production facility considering their refusal to work with the 'lesser' races.)

Technological advancement: The Shevastol were once extremely technologically advanced, making use of FTL drives as opposed to the now more common wormhole systems and even having access to specially formulate materials that could nullify magic. The total destruction of the Shevastol empire came with the the loss of most of their technological prowess. With their brightest minds centered in the capital world of Tes IV, an obvious target for angry slave species< they lost nearly all of their greatest innovators and scientists. Those who did survive couldn't overcome the fact that they had nothing to work with. Being a brilliant biochemist matters little when you lack the equipment to make use of your field.

Now the Shevastol make do with what they find, equipment that is often outdated and on the verge of breaking down entirely. It enrages them to know end that their old subordinates the Kel'ta have plenty of powerful "Forebear" technology to pick through while the creators languish in rusty puddle-jumpers and have to defend themselves with underpowered laser weaponry or whatever else they can scrounge up.

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~ Valkyria Chronicles - Changing of the Guard [Pt. 2 - Open] ~

Howdy ho, I’m here. Just waiting to reply pretty much

Innocence Lost - A Science Fantasy RP [v.03]

Ki'Tlex and Queen Anne's Revenge

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They had expected to have to ask someone, single out the most knowledgeable looking person in the cafeteria and request directions to the captain's bunk. Thankfully fate decided to make Ki'Tlex's life a little easier by bringing the boss to them. The three hands not occupied by Kottle waved back in response before folding themselves back under their robes. "You are correct, Captain Zhang. I am Ki'Tlex or simply Ki if you'd prefer. The infant is Kottle while the machine is-"

"Hi! I'm Queen Anne's Revenge but everyone just calls me Queen Anne."

"-yes, that. Myself and them are indeed here to join your war. I am a skilled mechanic and programmer capable of working with all manner of machinery and code. In combat I and Anne complement each other through neural linkage to serve as assaulters whether on the ground or operating in the void. We are experienced pirates and thus have an innate understanding asymmetrical warfare."

One of their past iterations had served as a mounted skirmisher as well but that was in the past and thus not worth mentioning.

Kottle pulled away from the oh-so-tasty finger to babble incoherently, proving that their vocal cords still worked by making a high pitched whistling screech. No longer interested in dealing with the little brat Ki conveyed all the necessary instructions telepathically, they and Queen Anne moving in perfect unison. Kottle was removed from their guardian's back as the robot's hardened chest plating cracked open to reveal the passenger space inside. With the basket strap placed on a hook Ki had installed for just that purpose Anne closed Kottle inside herself, muffling any more obnoxious noises.

"Our apologies!"

While Ki'Tlex silently filed away the knowledge that Moonstrike struggled against other pirates Anne was busy staring at the other machine. They were another war bot definitely but unarmed and smaller. An earlier model maybe? Or just one designed for combat lighter than full scale void assaults. Nirrti was scanning her which meant that interest had been taken which was nice. Anne simply gave a thumbs up, happy to stand there and get analyzed.

"I imagine I and you all will have to move quickly if we wish to recover these credits. Pirates tend to spend money as quickly as they can so they can get use out of it before their likely violent death. At least that had been how the Razor's Edge treated its group funds. "Although having other vermin flitting about might help cover my and your tracks and killing a whole bunch of them might make their friends mad. How much money did you guys lose?"

The other human female told them to submit to some sort of security procedure once the impromptu war council was finished and there was no reason to question the command. "As you wish. I also request access to the vessel's network as it would make my job easier but that can be done after I have been walked through all the steps required of I and them."

Extracriminal

It wouldn't have been all that surprising if the Senior simply never showed up. Like Vos said, the man had spent huge amounts of time, money and effort to track them all down and arrange for them to meet up in this secret Bond-style supervillain lair. Someone who valued privacy and security that much likely didn't appreciate having to actually show up for a meet-n-greet with his chosen peons.

Johnny could respect that.

So there they were, standing around the proverbial water cooler trying to size each other up and figure out who in the hell they were working with. This was neither a crime family nor a military operation, Grace didn't trust any of the women and didn't expect them to trust her. Not yet anyway. Until they had actually worked together it would be impossible for them to be sure that they were all capable.

The screen's flickering on interrupted Johnny's musings on the nature of earning sisterhood, head turning to look at the man of the hour. Look at was perhaps a strong term what with the classic 'head shrouded in inky black shadow to present a human yet unknowable presence' thing. She was more observing the fact that he did indeed exist.

The mentioned kitchen went unexplored for the time being, Grace more interested in getting details than a drink. "Change everything we know for the better, just like you said on the tape." What positive changes could possibly be made by large scale grand larceny Grace didn't know but she was damn interested in finding out.

The Russian questioned the how before the why and Johnny was silently amused by the fact that at least two of the "most capable criminals this country has never seen" were foreign nationals. "Less girl power and more precisely planned operations, if I had to guess."