Hidden 7 yrs ago 7 yrs ago Post by Sigma
Raw
GM
Avatar of Sigma

Sigma

Member Seen 3 days ago

Moon of Tarin
The arid moon of Tarin, one out of dozens of sister moons orbiting the Gas Giant Jalaryias, the Great Mother. Unlike many of her sisters, Tarin was a among the few exceptional moons in orbit, for deep within her very crest was something truly valuable to the Garden Worlds and others, Renthulium, a priceless and rare mineral only found on a few moons and asteroids in Jalaryias' orbit, to discover a renthulium deposit is to know instant wealth.

Over fifty years ago, a surveillance vessel under the banner of the Unqiu Mining Guild, a small Aurolian-born mining company, had came upon the vast desposits of Renthulium that had dotted the moon's surface, it was the discover of the century as corporation from all across Jalaryias had raced to this gold mine of a moon, fifty years later onto the present day, Tarin had become an independent entity of its own, the moon now sovereign ground of the corporations for the most part, until unrest followed.

Working conditions had deteriorated over the years, renthulium mining operations becoming more and more hazardous, equipment and breathing masks have begun to break down, the latter causing a great number of deaths due to methane poisoning from the atmosphere. A number of the larger Corporations were less then sympathetic to the plight of the miners, causing great unrest as protests and riots soon hurled the moon towards violence, the miners defiance answered with firing squads, once footage of the violence spread throughout the system, outrage was on an all-time high, what became riots transformed into outright rebellion, leading to civil war. The disenfranchised miners soon formed a united front against their corporate masters, signaling the beginnings of the Tarin Revolutionary War.

Four years have past since the war started, the fighting grows ever more fierce and desperate as the Mining Unions and the Tarin Guilds struggle for supremacy, however, they are not alone in their fight, this conflict has now become yet another battlefront in a much larger Cold War between the Aurolian Federation and the Conordat. Early in the war, the Mining Unions were contacted by the Concordat's Star Chamber, who were sympathetic to their cause, the downtrodden miners and their families providing an ample opportunity for the Concordat to further field test their technological innovations, be they military or not.

Upon discovery of the Unions' Concordat ties, the Aurolain Federation had came to the aid of the Tarin Guilds as they offered their assistance in the form of a joint task force, whom are tasked with reinforcing the Guilds'battle lines, to keep a close watch over the Concordat's activities on Tarin and to a small extent, possibly, begin their own field tests.

Star Port City of Pavliu
"Capital" of the Tarin Guilds
Neon Tipsy Bar, Upper levels


Caris Vakir, a tired and worn out Ishkaan man laid against the wall of a moving elevator as it made it's ascent to the Neon Tipsy, cheapest bar in the Upper Levels in this former corporate city-state turned makeshift command center, Caris had just returned from a tour out in the southern wastes, his company acting as combat "advisors" for the guild forces there. In actuality, Caris' battalion was at the forefront of an assault on enemy positions, it was hard-fought, but unfortunately, it ended up in a defeat on their part, and were forced to pull out before the Mining Union forces could encircle them.

Some good soldiers were lost that day, Caris and several other officers had decided to throw a little drinking party for the fallen once, Caris maintaining his balance as he heard the "bing" sound from elevator, the doors sliding open to reveal bright neon lights, they really wanted to put an emphasis on the bar name that's for sure. The bar was half-full, filled with corporate security, loyalist militia and mercenaries drinking to their hearts content. Caris continued scanning the room until he took notice of a ishkaan hand waving at him, turning to that direction to see a trio waiting for him, a ishkaan woman, a janari and a human. Caris walked over as he grabbed a glass, he was fashionably late enough to have his drink ready. "Glad you could make it, sir." the Ishkaan woman, Isana Kariun spoke.

"Yeah..I had to make a few hard calls back home.." Caris replied grimly, the four now fallen silent for a brief moment. "To the fallen." The human, Ian Raxis spoke up, rising his glass. "Here here!" The Janari, Gard Razin spoke. Caris looked to Isana as she rose her glass, he "grinned" in his Ishkaan way and raised his glass. "May they know peace." he said as he gulped down his liquor. "Ahhh...good stuff." He for a brief moment he simply watched his officers enjoy their drinks. "Enjoy it while it lasts, we'll be getting our reassignment soon."

In a moment of open frankness, Ian spoke. "Damn it all." He spoke. "Sir, What are we even doing here?"

Caris sighed. "We were briefed on this. You know full well why the higher ups even give a damn."

"...Yeah...if the Conk's are involved, it's always bad for news."

"Exactly. They're taking advantage of this war for their own ends. So the Higher ups want us to keep a close eye on 'em."

"Hehe, there's even some out there rumors about some black ops project going on." Gard interjected.

"I'd be careful with that if I were you. "Isana said. "Never know who's listening."

Caris gulped down what remained of his drink, slamming the glass on the table. "You three go ahead without me, drinks are on me. I need a little time to myself, we're getting our new assignment next thing in the morning, be ready."
Hidden 7 yrs ago 7 yrs ago Post by Klomster
Raw
Avatar of Klomster

Klomster The man, the myth, the legend.

Member Seen 9 mos ago

The Iron howlers they called themselves. The pack led by Arkh, a Schäferkin battle-born with a sleek build, black and some brown fur with brown dots on his forehead and whom looked fast, humans would describe him as a Dobermann. His two brothers similar to him, Arf with a scar over his nose. Aru being the smallest of the lot.
Those who stuck out from the general posture of the trio of brothers, were Doff and Raafi. Doff being a much more kind looking herder-born, the earliest of the Schäferkin demographics, herding dogs chosen by the Tak'a'dis to be the template because of their great will to work and their intelligence, they were the shepherds. With much longer fur than the regular Battle-born, the herder-born are most predominantly brown with black patches, one large patch almost always over their back.
Raafi being a defender-born female, larger than the others and with a more upright posture she was closing in on 2,5 metres. Grey silken short fur with the defender-born typical snout and non-erect ears. Humans would mostly describe her as a pitbull, strong robust large Schäferkin.

They all wore a light power suit, much lighter and more importantly, cheaper, than a typical Schäferkin combat armour. It was still power armour, the complex lamellation focusing on covering the torso and some of the stomach, with far less armour over the hips and shoulders while basically lacking armour all together on the arms, legs and the head.
Bands of gleaming metal connecting all the different areas of the armour betrayed that their suits still had the strength enhancers required by the heavier variants.
The air wobbled slightly along the mostly hidden vents on their backs, the group walking with the typical hunched and distrusting posture so common of their species.

-"Alright, remember, Arf, Aru, no fighting. Raafi, watch your step and Doff... just don't make a fool out of yourself." Arkh spoke clearly but somewhat silently while riding in the elevator. A human man who was clearly freaking out the only other occupant of the elevator. He made sure not to comment on the somewhat funny statement, fearing for his life, or at least fearing a severe pummeling.

The doors leading into the upper levels Neon tipsy bar slid open and the human quickly, almost ran away from the small pack into the crowd. With slow steps and with ever scanning eye and head motions the group moved towards an empty table. Forming a circle with the three brother in front and with Doff and Raafi in the back.

Instantly heads were turning, Raafi accidentally, or perhaps not accidentally, didn't move out of the way from a man with a drink and bumped him rather firmly. When he shouted 'Hey!' Arf and Raafi just looked straight at him and snarled loudly. comments while not meant to be loud were still heard and a Janari man sitting at a group table next to Caris somewhat loudly and irritated expressed.

-"Oh great, Schäferkin, well this evening just turned spoilt!" Followed by gulping down his mug of drink, slamming it into the table and beginning to stand up.
-"I'm out, i don't want a fight." The Janarian went on, but accidentally slightly bumped Caris. Followed by a.
-"Sorry chap, i'm off."

Meanwhile the Iron howlers had sat down, before Doff got to sit Arkh pointed to the bar and ordered.
-"Doff, get drinks." So Doff walked towards the bar. Clearly without the same combat stance as the three battle-born brothers, but trying his best to mimic their behaviour. He was still a roughly 2 metres tall Schäferkin in a power suit, so while not as intimidating as the battle-born, he was still making some people in the bar freeze with fear as he walked by.
Seemingly trying to avoid bumping into people.
-"Bartender, Joordisk brandy bottle... if you got any. And five bowls." Doff tried to sound commanding, but it was obvious he wasn't as gruff as the others, in the end he almost looked apologetic for trying.
The Ishkaan bartender looked at Doff while wiping a bottle of said brandy he'd gotten.
-"Bowls? Ain't got 'em. Got large glasses though."
Doff looked clearly worried, glanced at his pack and looked sceptical.
-"Fine.... i guess it will work." Doff expressed hopefully, carried the glasses and the bottle to his table.

As he put down the glasses Arkh took one of them and violently threw it into the ground with a crash.
-"What? No bowls!? Grrr i hate scaly bars." He then proceeded to pour brandy directly into his throat and then slam the table.
The others however more civil and pouring some in their glasses and trying to drink.

Trying being the key word, while wider than regular glasses, they couldn't really drink like they liked so while Aru tried to lap the drink Arf messily poured the contents into his mouth.
Doff and Raafi being far more reserved and lapped at the top of the surface of the drink trying to mimic regular humanoid drinking. With mixed success.
Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by JuliusCaesar
Raw
Avatar of JuliusCaesar

JuliusCaesar

Member Seen 7 yrs ago

3..2..1... Liftoff
The seat jerked back as the engines roared and the ship launched out of the water. Smith clutched the sides if they chair and closed his eyes.
"Have you never flown?" A voice chuckled from across the aisle.
"I've done simulators- and gone above the surface we've done plenty of out of water training"
"Nothing prepares you for the jerk. This ain't fancy trade lord technology, no sir, the military uses what works"
The young officer liked being called sir. "But there are civilians on this ship too"
"Expendables- these are all Vesi no one cares about who would send a friend to colonize the stars when it's a 75% rate of death"
"That's only because of the Quxikotl wars, besides," he pulled out his pistol, " we're prepared this time".
"As if you know anything if the Quxikotl," the old Vesum chuckled again.
No longer afraid, Smith turned to peer out the window. He could see the 12 seas (well at least he thought, 7 of them) and specks of brown and green land. The sight was beautiful. "Wow," he murmured softly, the water had stopped in his gills. Vesia is a beautiful place, and am I glad to live here. It showed no signs of poluttion or humongous factories, no smog or robots clotting things up. Blue as the day Boer swam the seas.
"Sir, we've docked with the colony ship," a solider had swam into the passage and saluted.
"Tell the captain" The trip up into the atmosphere and been quicker than he expected.
They were traveling to a moon of Jalaryias to set up an outpost and possible colony for Vesia. Rumor had it something was already living there, but no evidence was shown with a far range scan so the king stamped the charter and assigned a squadron of ships along with 100 vesi-under my command.
You'll be fine, he told himself, nothing to worry about. He had done well at the academy. He could shoot an entire clip accurately and have it reloaded in under 30 seconds and he could trust his life to any one of his men- they were all skilled.
The Lieutenant stood up, strapped on his bag, and propelled himself to the entrance his body gliding through the water.
Then he remembered, there would be no swimming for a while. The colony ship needed to be lighter and besides there might not be water on a small moon anyway (what's the point if even landing there if there's no water, no just follow orders). He'd get used to it. He was the best at out of water combat in his class-that's why he'd got this mission-still it gave him the chills to think of such a long time without being submerged under the waves.
Hssss the airlock whistled and the door shut behind him draining water from the room. Several colonists gasps were audible, but everyone had the masks securely tightened around their gills. Here goes nothing...as the doors opened and he stepped into the vessel headed far away from his birth land.
1x Like Like
Hidden 7 yrs ago 7 yrs ago Post by Ozerath
Raw
Avatar of Ozerath

Ozerath U WOT M8?

Member Seen 3 yrs ago

Star Port City of Pavliu
Neon Tipsy Bar, Upper levels


Ademnon took a long swig from his glass, not really tasting the strong liquor contained within. He was half tempted to let the alcohol hit him, switching off his circulatory scrubbers and letting the ethanol reach his brain. Hell, he could even get his neural synthesizers to help the process along. Alchohol can worsen symptoms of depression. The thought awkwardly lurched its way through his mind, prompted by his cortical processor. Ademnon snorted into his drink. Apparently newer generation cortical processors delivered such prompts much more naturally, so smoothly you didn’t notice. But Ademnon’s tech was old. He was old. Old, tired, and depressed. His implants actively fought the latter, pumping him full of the appropriate hormones and fighting off physiological changes, but they seemed to be fighting a losing battle. It was all so pointless, Ademnon thought for the umpteenth time. The war here on Tarin, the broader conflict with the Federation, all of it. Perhaps he should have stayed on Aurolia and fought them. Perhaps then things would be different. Or perhaps he and every Concordat would be dead, relegated to a short chapter in the Federation’s history.

He shifted his attention back to the room around him, unobtrusively watching and listening. At the same time, he reviewed his ‘memories’ of the last few minutes. Even though Ademnon had been absorbed in melancholy introspection, his implants had dutifully recorded all his sensory input. A group of Federation soldiers was of particular interest, but ultimately not very informative. Just another in a series of ongoing rumours about Federation black ops on the moon. Still, it was good to know their morale was taking a hit, something Ademnon’s own forces did not have to worry about. He made a show of checking his wrist chrono; obviously Ademnon had no use for the device, but a normal Ishkaan would, and that was what Ademnon was supposed to be. Tarin had precious few security scanners that could pick up Concordat implants, and those were mostly focused around sensitive military areas. As far as anyone in the bar knew, he was just an average nobody, certainly not the legendary Ademnon, the first Concordat, military mastermind, horrifying amalgamation of man and machine, 20 feet tall with gold plated cybernetic limbs and optic lasers that could obliterate a tank. Everyone knew that’s what Ademnon was, not a plain looking Iskaan who was a little on the short side. Still, he was taking a tremendous risk coming to Pavliu. But he liked field work, and lately, he especially liked taking risks. There was no telling what the Feds would do to him if he was caught. Well, actually Ademnon was fairly confident his implants would make him immune to interrogation and he doubted the Aurollians could disable or remove them without killing him.

The First Concordat briefly considered trying to cajole more information out of the group of Federation soldiers. Perhaps buy them a few drinks to loosen their tongues. Perhaps ambush one of them alone, perform a quick and dirty memory scan. But no, the first option would draw too much attention to him and wasn’t likely to be very successful. The second option was even riskier and less likely to succeed; the Feds had long ago learned to condition their soldiers against the sorts of tricks they knew the Concordat in its arsenal. It would take days in a lab to bypass that conditioning, and somebody would notice if a soldier disappeared from Pavliu for that long. Abducting a Federation soldier was also the kind of inflammatory incident Ademnon was trying to avoid. Best to keep the cold war nice and cool.

He checked his chrono again, although he already knew his shuttle was leaving in a few hours. It would take him to a neutral settlement, and from there he would make his way back into Mining Union territory. But to stay on Tarin, or return to Dawn? He knew a Concordat frigate was on a ballistic approach to the planet, more or less invisible against the emptiness of space, especially considering the lackluster state of Tarin’s satellite arrays. It wouldn’t truly enter orbit, instead just swinging around the moon’s gravity well before coasting silently away, never once emitting anything more detectable than the tiniest puff of a maneuvering thruster. Ademnon could be home in a matter of days, with precious few people ever knowing he’d ever been on Tarin, let alone deep in the heart of Pavliu. But then he thought of Sendema, and the desire to go home withered. Better to help direct the war here than face Sendema’s scheming and plotting. With the matter settled for the moment, the old soldier ordered another drink.




Concord Dawn Station
Concordat Capital


Sendema found the immaculate white corridors of Dawn as soothing as ever. She floated past intersections and hatchways, occasionally pulling a grab bar to redirect herself. Unlike some Concordat facilities, Dawn made no effort to comfort its inhabitants with the trappings of planetary life. No gravity, no arboretums, no anachronistic decor, certainly no windows, just gleaming efficiency. Sendema loved it.

She arrived at her destination, and a hatch slid open after verifying her identity. A few people looked up as she entered, but none greeted her, much to her relief. Sendema’s disdain for unnecessary chatter was well known. The room was dominated by a large holoprojector displaying the Jalaryias system. A portion of it was zoomed in on Aurollia, the lush garden moon from where the Concordat had come. Another portion was zoomed in on Tarin, where quite literally the Concordat’s future lay. Renthulium. It was the one thing the Concordat could never get enough of. In Sendema’s mind, the key to Tarin was Aurollia. Instead of mucking around with the Guilds and Miner’s union, they should attack the Federation directly, ending the threat they posed once and for all and securing Tarin’s wealth for the Concordat. That was why she was here in the Strategy Room. She came here once a day for at least an hour to sift over the latest reports on the Federation and will her enhanced brain to think up a way to end them.

As usual, there wasn’t much new to report about Aurollia. The Federation’s world was well protected, and distant flybys with recon drones were all the Concordat could really manage. The Federation often returned the favour, peppering known Concordat facilities with recon drones of their own. Of course, Dawn was not one of those known facilities. Only members of the Star Chamber knew where Dawn was on a permanent basis; the information was otherwise only distributed on a need to know basis, and even then it was usually in the form of degenerating neural info packets that erased themselves after a time. Secrecy was Dawn’s best defence.

A thought transcribed into her implants and directed to the room’s network shifted the holographic map. A few people registered complaints over the network, but Sendema overruled them with her Star Chamber authority. She scrolled through Jalaryias’ garden moons one by one, then paused on Tremara. Less than a week ago, the Tremarians had contacted the Concordat via Sanctuary, and expressed their interest in opening negotiations. Their representatives would be arriving at the Concordat's civilian hub in a few short days to begin discussions. Sendema was due to depart Dawn in a few hours to go meet them. She was fairly confident she knew what they wanted, and what they were willing to give her in order to get it. Ademnon would never have approved of what she was planning, but then he'd made the mistake of going to Tarin. She was willing to pay the Union's price, if it meant defeating the Federation and securing the future for the Concordat.
Hidden 7 yrs ago 7 yrs ago Post by Sigma
Raw
GM
Avatar of Sigma

Sigma

Member Seen 3 days ago

Star Port City of Pavliu
Neon Tipsy Bar, Upper levels

Caris had taken notice of the Schäferkin pack making a bit of a ruckus in the bar right before the janari bar patron had bumped into him. If the stereotypes had any truth to it, he had best leave before the pack caused one hell of a bar scuffle, He took one last gulp of his liquor before walking to the bartender, dropping a full pocket's worth of credits on the counter. "Keep the change." he said as he turned and made his leave to the elevator. The way down was more harder then the way up, he knew all too well, as soon as he left the building, he'll be sent back into the fray, fighting on behalf of the tarin corporations, who in actuality didn't even deserve the Federation's aid, but orders were orders, and despite their rather distasteful "allies", this local conflict was apart of something much greater, and the Concordat had to stopped, one way or another....But, that wasn't the only think that Caris was fighting for, as he waited, he looked down to his left pocket, digging his hand through as he pulled out a small holo-device, with the push of a small button, a holo-display of a family of four Ishkaans materialized, two young ishkaan, a small boy and an older girl, a woman and Caris himself.

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

Aurolia
Capital City of Tanis
Two Years ago

Today was quite a busy day then normal for the Tanis Starport, for today was the deployment of a new wave of reinforcements for the forces fighting on Tarin, a dark and saddened day for many, news then was not exactly positive, the civil war was a bloody stalemate, but favored the Miner's Union and their Conk masters.

At the very back of the masses of soldiers and other personnel lining up to board the transport ships, was Caris himself bending down to a young ishkaan boy, around the age of five, behind him was a girl, older then the younger boy by three years and a woman around the same age as Caris. "Don't worry, It'll only be for a little while." Caris reassured his children, both holding back the tears. "Your Dad's gonna go save a lot of people, So cheer me on, ok?"

The younger child unfortunately couldn't hold in his tears, sniffling and tears running down his face, the same happened with the girl and the mother, she too couldn't help but fear for her husbands life. "Ok..." the child responded."

"I'll be fine! I'll be sure to talk to you guys through holos." He assured his family, wiping away a tear from his son's cheek. "Come on, give your old dad a goodbye huge!" He widened his arms as his children, without hesitation, rushed into his arms as they embraced him hard, and him back. After they were done, he rose up and gave his wife a long huge, and shared an intimate kiss. "I love you." he whispered into her ear. He grabbed his bag and turned to the quickly dwindling masses as they herded into the transports, quickly hopping aboard one.

Caris turned and took one finally glance towards his family, waving each other goodbye as the doors slide close, the ship lifting off to orbit, shipping him to and his comrades to war.

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

Present Day
Aboard the Assault Carrier New Dawn
Hanger Bay Alpha


Another Day, another battle...over a hundred soldiers of varying species stood at attention as Lieutenant Colonel Caris Vakir, putting on his war face, putting aside his doubts and ready to meet the enemy once more in battle, and not repeat the mistakes not long ago, he must not falter and must win the day, for Aurolia, and most importantly, his family. "Alright boys and girls." He loudly spoke up. "Our Battalion just received a new assignment from High Command. We're to leave for the surface again, and reinforce a Guild forward base in the contested City of Nishir." Captain Vakir paused for a brief moment, taking a deep breath. "The Conks and their puppets are on the move again. Last time the FOB barely managed to hold 'em back a few days ago, now they're breaking under the pressure, and it's up to the 81st Battalion to save their asses. " The captain paused once more as he scanned his troops, seeing both young eagerness, to fear. "Ready to give the Conks hell?"

"Sir! Yes, sir!" They responded in unison.

"Bullshit! I SAID DO YOU WANT TO GIVE THEM HELL??!?!" He screamed out, pumping up his troops with pure adrenaline.

"SIR! YES, SIR!" they responded in an even louder tone.

"That's more like it." He grinned, as just right behind him, several Hasik Dropships lowering their rear ramps. "81st, move out!" And with that they rushed towards the dropships, climbing up the ramps and taking their selected seats and strapping themselves in, Caris following behind, slowing down a moment as he took a deep breath, silently praying to whatever god can hear him and be kept safe on this day. He quietly hopped in one of the ships as the ramps rose up and closed shut, taking the last vacant seat in the back, and braced himself as he felt the humming of the engines starting to life, slowly lifting off and into the empty vacuum of space, quickly following behind his ship, the rest of the 81st dropships dropped, a dozen dropships in total. The dropships soon moved close into a delta formation as they made their descent towards the moon.
Hidden 7 yrs ago 7 yrs ago Post by Klomster
Raw
Avatar of Klomster

Klomster The man, the myth, the legend.

Member Seen 9 mos ago

A Schäferkin fortress, alloyed steel armour plating several metres thick in the thinnest of places, massively potent energy production and drives, massive arrays of laser lance arrays ranging between capable of cutting lesser vessels apart with ease to scores of lesser guns covering the flight space in a literal light show making enemy fighter assaults a very dangerous prospect, the arrays covering almost the entirety of the five kilometer diameter vessel.

It sailed through space more like a astronomical phenomena than a regular space ship.

In the main viewport on the bridge, the beautiful garden world of Aurolia could be seen.
-"Prime, we have reached Federation space. The communications are open, you are free to speak!" The battle-born bridge operator sitting next to Raghis II said to him.

Raghis the second, Alpha Prime of the Schäferkin species and master of Joord. Herder-born, with the usual brown and black colouring, but with a slightly lanker face betraying the genetics of his Battle-born mother.
He took a few heavy steps, his finely crafted power armour form fitted to the extreme covering all of his body except the front of his face and the underside of his tail, his footfalls slamming heavily upon the steel floor as he snatched the microphone.

Booming over all networks, overriding several civilian broadcasting networks with both video and audio. Making Raghis II the face the entire federation listened to for the momet in a sense.
-"Denizens of the Federation of Aurolia, this is Raghis the second, Prime Alpha of the Schäferkin. Hand over the Tak'a'dis aggressors. And we will be reasonable!"
Raghis II's voice boomed over the networks, he spoke with absolute force and confidence.

Every year this had occurred, every year the federation responded in usually the same manner, once the Schäferkin Warlord made his very presence known to the entire federation, a fleet of two dozen vessels made their approach towards the fortress. At the center of the fleet was the Resolute Heavy Cruiser Liberty's Shield, commanded by Admiral Iosia Kinsa, for nearly a decade, she had to be the one to annually face off with the Schäferkin, every single year, it had slowly grown tedious to her.

The Admiral sat upon her command chair as the fortress came into visual view, it's sheer scale still awe inspiring, not quite as large as the Dreadnought Aurolia, but still impressive nonetheless. She observed her subordinates as they went about their business, flanking to her left was a janari male by the name of Yad Karu, her second-in-command. "Orders, ma'am?" he asked.

"I want the fleet to maintain defensive positions. Open channels with the fortress." She ordered.

"Channels open, ma'am." A crewmen spoke up. With that, the Admiral took a deep breath as she once again played this game with the Schäferkin. "This is Admiral Kinsa of the 12th Defense fleet. As said repeatedly, Prime Alpha, the Tak'a'dis within our borders are now citizens of the Federation, any harm done to said citizen is not a wise action. What was done to your people is terrible, however, these tak'a'dis will be under our care by any means. "Iosia paused for a moment as she sighed. "We've been over this a hundred years...I think it's time to move on from your grudges." In that instant, the Admiral made a hand motion with her XO, the Janari nodded to her as he ordered all channels be cut.

Once communication was cut, Iosia slouched, slowly sliding off her chair. "Uhgh..." she moaned.

For a hundred years years this charade has been going on, as a fact, this was the 100th anniversary. Some even held parties and had anticipated the speech of the great Raghis II. Even though some were disappointed. After all, they expected him to be taller, and be clad in gold.

-"Alpha Prime, they seem to have cut communications. Should i reopen them?" The bridge operator asked, getting a gruff and a nod from Raghis II.
As the communications went back up, Raghis actually smirked before speaking.
-"What's the matter admiral? Don't you appreciate traditions?" He said with relaxed ears, a slight slow tail wag and with a prominent grin. The grin something the Schäferkin picked up from other species. Making sure to not make it look like a snarl.

-"You don't think i was expecting you to hand them over? You feds are far too stubborn for that. No, i am here to deliver the good news."
Raghis II straightened his posture and pointed to the screen.
-"Citizens of the Federation, even the Tak'a'dis. For one hundred years the Federation and the Schäferkin avoided war, through efforts of diplomacy, science and trade. We have avoided all out war and therefore helped keep the peace of Jalaryias. As a show of good faith and hopefully a hundred more years of understanding. We wish to celebrate the occasion!" As Raghis II spoke several people upon the bridges of Federation ships, at homes and not the very least the Tak'a'dis whom were watching the annual claim of their freedom, gasped in confusion and surprise.
This was completely out of the ordinary.
The Schäferkin were known to be brutal and warlike, impossibly gruff in their attitude and never accepting no for an answer unless it gained them in another way.
-"So we have prepared our most prominent beauty born artists, to hold the celebrations at your capitol. If we may." Raghis II kept going, as he snapped his clawed power armoured fingers the screen changed to a frigate nearby with a picture in picture display of a white and black herder-born pilot. Whom spoke with a highly optimistic tone.

-"So feds, i request permission to enter you space. I've got some cargo who is itching to meet you!" In the background, some beauty-born were seen, those who knew them recognized them as the impossibly popular pop-band "Beauty power!" whom waved, made hearts and kissing motions to the camera while filling the transmission with silly love wishes.
The camera changed back to Raghis II, whom were now holding a party blower sideways in his mouth. Blowing it which made a pathetic sound since Schäferkin don't really have lips like other species before he grinned once more.
-"I also hope to meet president Juk, it's only proper we meet in person." Raghis II spoke calmly.

The Admiral and staff simply were dumbfounded by what they heard and were seeing, this was highly uncharacteristic, and just down right odd, but at the same time, progress was at last made after a hundred years of annual stand-offs at the border. Iosia's XO shook his head as he turned his attention towards the Admiral. "Uh, ma'am, orders?" The Admiral was silent for a moment, forcing her second to once again inquire. "Oh thank the GODS!" she exclaimed joyously, much to the sudden surprise of her crew, and in that moment, an awkward silence fell in the bridge, Iosia scanning the room as all eyes were glued to her, were she human, her hard cheeks were be burning red by now. "Ahem." she cleared her throat, embarrassed for herself. "Uhh, Let them pass." She meekly ordered.

With the ok passed along, the frigate began its travel towards Aurolia.
So did the fortress, albeit at a much slower pace and with the weapon systems clearly offline and under escort. Upon its bridge Raghis II sat down at the command throne and was ears high but calm, he was actually excited.
-"I don't think the feds saw that one coming." He exclaimed for himself and made a chuckle, the entire bridge crew joining in on their Alphas mood.

The bar was set high for a peaceful future, normally during these talks the Prima Alpha makes statements and demands for around an hour, before finally standing down and returning towards Joord space.
But Raghis II felt the old ways were losing its importance, that the Tak'a'dis had finally been defeated and it was time to move on.
This was actually his first annual claim, it being the 100th was merely coincidence.
The old Alpha Prime, Kalra the Defender-born, had been a strong spokesperson in the subject of Tak'a'dis persecution.
She had repositioned the second fortress from Tenoheotl orbit and brought it home to begin a massive witch hunt. Along with starting off the building a new fortress, a super fortress even.
Shortly after she had held the 99th annual claim, she suffered a violent sickness and died two months later. Some expected foul play but most of the evidence pointed to that the 64 year old woman had her share of illnesses and problems.
That she had managed to hold the title of Alpha at even such an old age spoke a lot of her ferocious personality, and during the 95th claim, war had almost broken out with the federation.

Raghis II had won the ensuing battle between the other Silver-Alphas, and won.
It had been a massive following in the media, the masses had roared when he fought Kyres the Battle-born. That was intense, he swore the fight lasted for an hour, even though official time records claim 23 minutes. With roughly 5 consisting of taunts.
The mental prominence tests had almost been won by Tiffa, the Beauty-Born. But he had managed to outwit and out-charm her with the force of his personality. He realized he was reminiscing, good times he thought.
While he knew that most of the civilian population on Joord would be pleased to learn the aggressions were coming to an end, he also knew that there were some who would not appreciate such a shift.
Let's hope they are not to stubborn he thought.
Hidden 7 yrs ago 7 yrs ago Post by Oraculum
Raw
Avatar of Oraculum

Oraculum Perambulans in tenebris

Member Seen 2 days ago

Erelvath
Verrselith
Yrkel Nucleus


While there certainly existed numerous exhaustive, scientifically accurate explanations for the uneven distribution of fertile, habitable ground on Erelvath, when admiring the luxuriant green expanses of Verrselith and recalling the desolate, wind-swept stone deserts of Iurrthellir the thought involuntarily came to one's mind that conditions supporting the growth and spread of life had been distributed on its surface by some vast, entirely arbitrary conscious design. Such was the asymmetry in the world's climate and terrain that, at first glance, it would have seemed perfectly normal to think that such an imbalance was not natural in origin, however fleeting this feeling might have been. However, fortunately for Erelvath's inhabitants' peace of mind, millennia of life on its surface had left them so accustomed to such a state of matters that they did not see anything in the slightest unusual with it; nor were they, in their majority, disposed to ponderings of the metaphysical sort, and they were thus content with leaving such thoughts to superstitious outsiders.

Although it could at first seem that the contrast between the two continents' biospheres was most apparent in the thick jungles lying near the centre of Verrselith, upon a closer scrutiny it could be observed that even its milder zones, or perhaps especially those, were as alien to what lay higher upon the surface of the globe as any other. Such a location was the stretch of coast upon which stood the walls and spires of the Yrkel Nucleus. The ground there was mildly sloping along the sides of several low, broadly placed hills, covered with a thick layer of what seemed to be some sort of grey-greenish filamentous moss. About half a mile away, the brown, purple-veined waves of the ocean swayed slowly, crashing into the exposed boulders of the shore in heavy, viscous impacts as a few sparse blotches of sunlight crawled over their mutable surface. The Yrkel citadel towered over hills and cliffs alike, its sprawling form appearing to flow like a monstrous amoeboid organism over the verdant fields. Its silvery curvilinear walls rose steeply from the soil, appearing, through cunning architectural devices and tricks of the light, to writhe as a living, pulsating membrane. The cupolas and jutting steeples, surrounded with spiralling ornaments, seemed inconstant in their positions, their contour lines growing entangled and confused in an Escherian nightmare which, despite its chaotic appearance, was crystallised in a perfect semblance of order and regularity.

Though the Covenant had begun its existence in an unremarkable headquarters building at the periphery of a minor Vraslil city some three hundred miles along the coast from there, things had drastically changed in the course of its continuing lifetime. That city had long since been entirely assimilated by what had become the Prime Nucleus, and had spread to become a veritable metropolis, larger than either of the planet's official capitals. But even that was too little, and too localised. Like sovell caps after the spore season, other, subsidiary Nuclei had sprung up all across the surface of Erelvath, crawling their way into administrative centres and strategic positions of various sorts and strengthening the Covenant's stranglehold over the Garden World. Their purposes varied depending on their location: some were the seat of liaisons and representatives to the Iurrketh and Vraslil governments, others potent industrial and laboratory complexes, others yet spaceports and military staging grounds. Yrkel, however, was none of these. Being closer to the Prime than all but two other Nuclei, it served as one of the multiple brains of the network. There, matters most often related to material resource acquisition and allocation were sent to be sifted and settled by diligent functionaries; and it was thus little wonder that it should have been chosen as the seat of his office-laboratory by the Decorated High Administrator Eullvallt himself.

Whatever questions of utmost importance might have been decided in his chambers in the past, Eullvallt presently seemed to be enjoying an interruption in his more concrete duties and studies, and dedicating himself to musings of a different sort. Resting his vaguely globular form atop his podium-seat, the High Administrator was intently observing a semi-sphere of crystalline plasma set in the white-golden rear wall of the windowless, hexagonal room. Within the apparatus, energy discharges carefully regulated by minute magnetic fields formed intricate shapes, their colours constantly shifting due to the uninterrupted flow of the pulses, but their form constant. A cluster of thickly set, thread-like lines was woven together to combine into a spherical shape, slowly rotating over a slightly tilted axis, with ripples appearing in seemingly random points of its surface and disappearing almost immediately. Near it hovered a number of characters of different sizes, recognisable as Erelvalthi Standard; the larger ones remained still, while the lesser occasionally vibrated and rewrote themselves, updating the text to match newly received information.

All of a sudden, Eullvallt twisted and spun upon himself as the approaching sound of skittering limbs stirred him from his contemplation. Soon, a Vraslil, distinguished by the slightly asymmetrical shape of the tip of his proboscis, entered the room, and, briefly swaying upon his legs in a form of greeting, to which came a similar, albeit more fluid reply, came to flank the pedestal, his gaze focusing upon the hemispherical screen as he moved. Having observed it for a few moments, he rattled one of his forelimbs against the floor, then turned to Eullvallt with a series of clicking noises strung together into a query.

“Tarin, still? I understand the replication project has not been successful.”

“None of us truly expected it to be.” Eullvallt replied, the suffused vibrations of his equivalent of a voice resounding dissonantly amid the humming of machinery in the background, “But nonetheless, we had better success than with the Avall-Seven samples. The quality of Tarin renthulium really is superior.”

He motioned with a pseudopod to an unseen sensor, and the image on the screen briefly changed, after a swirling transition, into a schematic of some rather complex web-like structure, surrounded by numerous markings and annotations. The figure hovered in place for a few seconds, then twisted back into its former planetoidal shape.

“What remained from the experiments was sufficient to uninterruptedly supply half the Nucleus with power for nearly two months, and might have lasted even longer had we been able to perfect the grid prototype sooner. Besides, you will have heard from your own colleagues of the effects of irradiated samples on the breeding vat entities. I am no specialist myself, but I was told the growth bursts were something unprecedented.”

The Vraslil waved its proboscis in acquiescence. “I will not expand on the technical details, but, to put it in simple terms, a steady supply of that would nearly triple the birthing rate of Contaminators, to say nothing of the other designs. If your own results are any indication, we could also multiply vat installations, and you know full well what that would mean. I will grant that your visionary predictions have a solid enough foundation after all.”

“I was, unknowingly, pessimistic. A hundredth part of what is on that moon, and Erelvath would finally be unified. A tenth, and the entire system would be our tributary. But those are only side effects. The actual results would be something neither we nor anyone else on the Council could imagine now. Jalaryias a living reactor, you recall?, would be nothing.”

“I am certain the Cycle-Weavers would agree. But I assume you would not be dwelling on this now unless you had made some progress of a more practical sort.”

“Correct. You see, no Iurrkhal likes being a visionary for too long. This must be why the Sanctity never took hold with us. All we could do with the samples we obtained at inflated, but acceptable cost has been done. You will not disagree if I said we need more. It follows that we must take more.”

Eullvallt motioned again, and the ripples on the spherical representation on the screen somewhat stabilised, forming two more or less steady patches on the conceptual Tarin’s surface.

“It is no secret that the Aurolians and the Concordat are meddling in the conflict for myopic goals of their own. To my knowledge, the power discrepancy is, for the moment, not very noticeable. It is likely they both are gathering support where they can. What we must do is clear.”

“We provide it. To which side?”

“Both. The Covenant did not become what it is by indulging in favouritism. We must act so that neither will know the complete truth, and be ready to offer us a plausible percentage of the resources gained once victory is achieved. A formality, I trust you understand.”

“So I had guessed. We have no interest in either outcome. But if we cripple both, we gain not only the renthulium, but weary prey, as the adage goes, as well.”

“Precisely. This is what we should stress when explaining the operation to the Combine. With our success, the Concordat will be eliminated, and they will have immediate and total access to the rogues’ implant schematics.”

“I figured the constituents would have to be informed.” The Vraslil shifted its hindmost pair of legs pensively, “We might as well draw maximal profit from it. The Cyberforce could be swayed to intervene alongside the Aurolians, do you not think?”

“Now that you mention it, I can but agree. I will not be too – visionary if I say that they can be counted on to damage the Concordat with utmost zeal. They depend on the factories, after all, and if these are emptied, their positions are compromised. As do we, actually. We would do well to remember that. On your side, could the Union be induced to deploy its forces?”

“It could be easier than we suppose. There is not a single Cycle-Bearer I know who is not impatient to test their new symbionts in the field, and the Swarms are not likely to interfere. Especially not if we guarantee that our own troops will be present.”

“And that is fully within our possibilities. The mining operations on Vollir are complete, and the catalyst shipments will arrive within the week.”

“Those?” The interrogative rapping was repeated, “All those I asked said the fracking systems are nowhere near being optimised for them. How do you expect it to be done in time?”

Eullvallt’s central spheroid sunk into the mass of his lower appendages, then rose again, stretched higher than before. “Some secrecy was necessary. After all, the constituents do not even know of these sediments, and the cargos will have to land in Combine territory. All equipment is fully ready and operational, I tell you.”

“Then I can only defer to you in this.” the Vraslil replied. Eullvallt lowered himself once again, and swept a pseudopod in an imperious gesture. All images on the screen disappeared, to be immediately replaced by a schematised view of the Jalaryias system. Where Erelvath was, a ripple originated, which grew rapidly to cover nearby moons and worlds, finally engulfing the gas giant itself and the entire system, and still continued to spread further, reaching the edges of the semi-sphere.

“We are what the Covenant needs.” the Iurrkhal spoke. “You shall see there are no limits to what we can accomplish. Erelvath will be one, then the system, then the galaxy itself, and more. The universe belongs to those who dare exploit it, and this is what the Covenant does best. We cannot fail.”
1x Like Like
Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by Ozerath
Raw
Avatar of Ozerath

Ozerath U WOT M8?

Member Seen 3 yrs ago

Outskirts of Nishir City
Tarin
Armed Mobile Mining Platform Beauty Queen




Cole wasn’t sure how he’d ended up here. He was a miner, same as his father, and his father’s father. What was he doing in the middle of a warzone? Why had he even signed up when the Confederacy of Independant Mining Unions started putting together a military branch? He itched at his respirator and wiped his brow as he pondered these familiar questions. It was hot today. Well, it was always hot on Tarin, but today was a real scorcher, and he was keeping watch on the AMMP’s foredeck, directly in the sun. The faint shimmering of the shields overhead did nothing to reduce the heat or the glare.
The shield generator was Conk tech, like the massive graser cannons mounted around the AMMP, like the graser rifle in Cole’s hands. The Conks had been generous with their weaponry, and their investment was turning the tide of the war. The Unions were winning, if you believed the broadcasts. Cole personally wasn’t so sure; the Guilds had repelled their assault on Nishir a few days ago easily enough. Of course, now that the Unions had sent along Beauty Queen, they probably wouldn’t be so lucky.

The AMMP rolled along at a sedate pace, surrounded by a horde of smaller vehicles, ranging from armed trucks to full on tanks. It had been surprisingly easy for the Unions to adapt some of Tarin’s factories to make tanks. They packed a punch thanks to their Conk graser main cannons, but they couldn’t take many hits with their locally made armor. They struggled against Fed MBTs, but were plenty capable of handling Guild tanks.

The AMMP abruptly accelerated, and a voice crackled in Cole’s ear; “Fed dropships incoming, look sharp.” Cole hefted his rifle and scanned the skies. There, coming in from orbit. He popped off a few shots in their direction, hoping for a lucky hit. Theoretically there was no limit to the range of his graser rifle, but in practice the beam would be far too attenuated to peirce the dropships’ shields at this range. The same was not true of the AMMP’s main weapons though, and they swivelled upwards and opened fire. Gamma rays, even focused into a coherent laser beam, were not visible to the human eye, so there was no sign of what blasted one of the incoming dropships to smithereens. The guns fired again, but only partially caught a second dropship, sending careening out of the sky rather than destroying it outright. The pilot was evidently a capable person, righting the dropship and bringing it down onto the sand relatively gently.

“Scuse me son,” a voice called from behind him. Cole turned and surpressed a flash of surprise. An Ishkaan had come up behind him, but he wasn’t wearing a respirator. A Conk. Cole hadn’t known there were any Conks aboard. The Conk was carrying a graser rifle identical to Cole’s own, which he raised to his shoulder and pointed at the crashed ship. As Cole watched, the first Fed stepped out of the relatively intact dropship. His head promptly exploded as the Conk fired. The Conk lowered his rifle. “Take a few potshots every now and then kid, that should keep them pinned down until we reach them.”
Cole nodded mutely, and obediently popped a few shots off at the dropship as the Conk turned away.
1x Like Like
Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by JuliusCaesar
Raw
Avatar of JuliusCaesar

JuliusCaesar

Member Seen 7 yrs ago

Jorin studied the display. The moon Tarin was getting closer. The time to give up was not now he knew. Still, the prospect made him nervous. War is profit, that's what they told him. Sell to both sides and it doesn't matter who wins. Even so, Trading in a war zone? The Guild and the Unions were both powerful. His ship didn't even have any serious weapons, just personal rifles his men carried to scare off pirates. He saw why his orders were the way they were and renthulium was extremely valuable. It was simple- go in get your hands on as much of the stuff as you could and don't make anyone mad.
He could see the city of Pavliu getting closer and he deftly handled the controls to bring his ship down.
The radio buzzed with life. "Who's there? State your intent, and any cargo you have that's dead or alive. And make it quick."
Not expecting this, but figuring the truth was safest, "Uh just here on a neutral trading mission, bringing iron, gold, dried fish, and alcohol. Also 20 crew members, all of them Vesi. We just want to sell it all and take some Renthulium back home with us"
"Renthulium? You might find a harder time getting it than you like, but you're allowed in. We're sure you won't mind a search of your ship."
He saw the roof of a building open up as a landing pad and was directed in. The landing gears were out and he was docked, so he opened up the doors and immediately a hoard of Ishkaans poured in. They shoved him and the crew to the side, "Out of our way" and overturned the ship looking for "Conk spies, they could be anywhere". Not expecting this rough treatment, but determined anyway Jorin tried to pick up a conversation with them. "Do you guys know where I could sell any of this?" They ignored him and worked on finishing their search, satisfied with the overturned ship they filed out except for one who asked for payment. Jorin sighed and handed over a few credits. At least we're not in trouble. "The Trade guild welcomes you to our capital."
I suppose I shouldn't have expected less on a war torn moon. He gathered the crew and told them to enjoy the rest of the night but meet back here tommorow.
For himself however he had a greater mission- what to do with his cargo- he wondered as he strolled off into the night looking for a bar.
1x Like Like
Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by BilboTheGreat
Raw
Avatar of BilboTheGreat

BilboTheGreat I don't think through things, I never have time.

Member Seen 2 yrs ago

Sanctuary Station
Concordat Civilian Hub


Sendema was not well suited to waiting. Her two Star Chamber fellows, Joren and Kedal, seemed perfectly happy to sit around and chat idly over the local network, but Sendema could hardly sit still. The Tremarian ships had reached the station, and one was on final approach, and she just wanted the whole thing to be over with. Perhaps she wasn't as comfortable with the expected proposal as she thought.

As if reading her thoughts (which he couldn't given the quality of her cyber-neural security), Joren looked over at her and pinged for a com link. She accepted, more out of a need for something to do than any desire to actually speak with him. "Having doubts Sendema?" His voice spoke in her mind, touched with a hint of sarcasm. Joren wasn't her biggest fan in the Star Chamber. Supporters of Ademnon had gotten him attached to her party to represent their interests, so she was just going to have to put up with him. "Of course not," summoning a haughty attitude that her implants would accurately convey to his. "They want converts, we'll give them converts. Call it a cultural exchange. I can think of two dozen Concorded I know personally who would leap at the chance. It's not like they can force us to actually follow their hokey religion."
Joren smiled condescendingly. "Goodness, I didn't realise I'd touched a nerve. Well, so long as you're so firm in your convictions, I'm sure this encounter will be just dandy."
Sendema bit off a sharp retort as the airlock emitted a tone signalling a good seal. The Tremarians were here.

Two corvettes locked into the airlocks of Sanctuary station, each proudly wearing the flag of the Tremarian Union. Inside these corvettes were two near exact teams, each with a standard squad of Draon and Klek units, four Rothan high guards, and one diplomat. On the first corvette was the Priestess of Affairs and on the second was Commander As'salia, who was personally sent by the Priestess of Force. Both were wearing earpieces that would allow them to communicate to each other and the representatives from the Concordat, translating languages almost seamlessly as they spoke.

"Welcome to Sanctuary," Sendema said as the Tremarians emerged from the airlocks into the waiting lounge. Her words were slow and slightly slurred, the result of not actually speaking out loud very often. "I am Sendema, representing the Star Chamber of the Concordat. My associates, Kedal and Joren." She gestured at her companions. Kedal gave a small, polite bow. Joren just nodded. They all avoided looking at the Tremarian guards. The Concordat delegation had no escort, partially because this was their station, partially because they felt they didn't need one. Sendema herself was linked to all the hidden weapon emplacements in the room; she could activate them and rain fire on the Tremarians with just a thought. Hopefully that wouldn't be necessary. She smiled at the Tremarians, an awkward, force looking expression that seemed out of place on her face.

The Priestess gave her own formal smile in return, nodding as she did. "Thank you for allowing us into your station, Sendema". She said, extending a hand to her side and beckoning at As'salia. "This is Commander As'salia, representing the arm of force, and I am The Priestess of Affairs, I will be handling our relations and deals on behalf of the High Priestess". At almost the same time, both Rothans gave a small bow. As'salia found her eyes wandering, looking over the plain looking interior. It was very white and very organised, much different to what she was used too. The lack of decoration and variety of colour certainly made her feel uneasy, as if she were speaking to actual robots. She focused back onto the Concordats delegates and the Klek and Draon behind her looked around, with much less subtlety.

"Very good," Sendema said. "This way please." She began moving purposefully down the hall. The delegation followed her into some kind of lift car, which quickly took off into featureless tube. And then, quite abruptly, they were suddenly overlooking what appeared to be a bustling city, resting peacefully under a pale blue sky and a brilliant sun. Closer observation would would reveal the sun and sky to be mere projections masking the massive dome that stretched at least five kilometres across. The approach to Sanctuary had shown there were four other similar modules spread evenly around a central ring, but it had been impossible to know what beauty was contained inside them. And the city was beautiful. Graceful arching towers stretched 'skywards'. A park with a lake filled the centre of the space. Trees were everywhere. Joren smiled slightly. "All the comforts of planetary life." Sendema just scowled.

The lift continued to carry them up the wall of the dome until it reached the very apex, then slipped into the ceiling. Despite the dome's great size, the entire trip had lasted less than a minute. The lift deposited them into a much smaller dome, this one made entirely of glass. Below, the city sprawled under their feet. Above was the vastness of space, with Jalaryias dominating the view. A large table with a number of chairs sat in the centre of the room A selection of refreshments and decanters of water were arranged to one end of the table. "Please, be seated," Sendema said slowly, as she herself took a chair. Once they were all sitting, she spoke again. "I will be direct, as I'm not very good with pleasantries. The Aurollian Federation is a threat to all that the Concordat has accomplished. I-We intend to take action against that threat, and we would like your help."

One minute was more than enough time for the Priestess and Commander to take in the sights of the artificial yet beautiful interior of the station, which was much different and more comforting than the plain white walls they had seen before, not that comfort was a priority. A majority of the delegations armed forces had stayed instead of getting in the elevator, only the two high guards and a couple of Draon having joined them in the lift up to the top. They didn't need that many soldiers in a meeting, an important meeting. Besides, they were more for show. Both Delegates knew that the small force wouldn't be able to hold out against the whole stations defences and security which far outnumbered them. Both the Priestess and As'salia were confident that nothing would happen anyway as that would be an act of war and they were sure that was not in the interests of the Concordat. When they got in there the Draon stood at the edge of the room with the high guards while As'salia and the Priestess sat down at the table.

Both of them looked at each other after Sendema spoke. As'salia spoke first, turning back towards her. "Before the Union commits itself to anything, I'd like to know what kind of action your going to take. Are you planning on a full scale war, or something smaller?"

"It may well come to a full scale war," Sendema said casually. No point beating around the bush.
"A military alliance would be beneficial to the Union as well," Kedal said in her soft voice. "There are those among the moons who do not appreciate the culture of Tremara as we do."

"A military alliance could well deter those who do not appreciate our ways" As'salia spoke, but paused for a second as she looked upon the Concordats representatives. "But I'm afraid the Church will want something more in return for military cooperation".

"If I had to guess, I would say pilgrims. Converts." Sendema certainly did not dance around the issue. Kedal, ever the more diplomatic, sent her a neural glare. "What Sendema means is that many of the Concorded have an intense interest in Tremara, and would welcome the opportunity to visit your world and learn your ways," she interjected. Sendema shrugged indifferently. "That's another way of putting it, yes." Joren remained silent.

As'salia found herself smiling softly as Kedal attempted to make the exchange sound less unpleasant. She knew what they were doing, and it seemed so did Sendema, and she didn't much bother with how it sounded. "The church would appreciate that very much". She said. "We also would like to be safe in the knowledge that the Concordat would not interfere or comment on the work of any of our Missionary's".

Sendema was a little more cautious on this one. "We would certainly not to presume to interfere with your missionaries' work abroad. In our own territory, they would be subject to the same laws as anyone else, but otherwise free to do as they please."
"We like to let people do what they want," Joren interjected after staying silent for so long, "but we won't tolerate violence, extortion, or harassment on our stations, from anyone." It was evidently important to him to get this point across. He might not be able to stop the deal, but he evidently had no intention of letting Tremarian missionaries convert Concordat citizens at knife point.

As'salia nodded. "Of course, we would not break your laws in your territory" she spoke slowly, "But when we aren't, and when we are enlightening others beyond your control, we would appreciate the Concordat not involving themselves in it".

"Of course." Sendema answered authoritatively. Joren looked like he was going to argue the point for a second, but in the end he remained silent. Sendema took this as a cue to drive the offer home, and abandoned all pretence. "As a gesture of good faith, we would like to send a delegation of Concorded back to Tremara with you; the first converts. They'll have to be volunteers, at least at first. We'll call it a cultural exchange initiative. They'll stay for, perhaps six months, and then return to us or stay with the Union according to their own desires. Additional shipments of converts would be sent every month, but we'll need to tell them they'll have a choice about staying if we're going to get any cooperation. How does that sound?"

Kedal's eyes practically bulged out of their sockets as Sendema laid down the bargain in such brazen terms. Joren frowned slightly, but otherwise offered no comment. He'd made his arguments in the Star Chamber and lost, he was only here now to make sure things didn't get completely out of control. Evidently he didn't think he could dispute Sendema's offer and win. Sendema herself wasn't concerned. Oh, a few Concorded might choose to stay on Tremara, but they would be the wishy washy sort she had no use for. No, the vast majority would return, she was confident of that. Let the Tremarians preach and postulate all they wanted; true Concorded would return home.

As'salia nodded. "I respect how you don't step around things, Sendema". She spoke softly and then looked over the rest of them, knowing that they weren't the same. She could tell that they weren't all as happy to be making the deal as she and Sendema were, but neither she nor the Priestess really cared. "The church graciously accepts your offer, and we would like to propose one of our own, covert Military support in your operations on the moon of Tarin".

All three Concorded were visibly pleased by the offer, even if some weren't happy about its price. "Thank you Commander As'salia. It's settled then," Sendema said officiously. "We'll send word to our senior officer on Tarin of your forthcoming support. It will take perhaps a day to find volunteers to return with you to Tremara. In the meantime, please enjoy our hospitality. I'm told garden worlders find Sanctuary quite pleasant."

"Thank you very much, Sendema, I look forward to our Nations future relationship"
1x Like Like
Hidden 7 yrs ago 7 yrs ago Post by Sigma
Raw
GM
Avatar of Sigma

Sigma

Member Seen 3 days ago

After some time had passed, thesmall fleet of dropships of the 81st were fast approaching Tarin, maneuvering around a vast mess of shredded starship debris from past battles, the airspace over No Man's Land was a deathtrap for any pilot who came unprepared and lacked the training, most fortunate for the 81st Battalion that their pilots knew what they were doing, unfortunately, they were unprepared for what was to come next.

Caris, not exactly comfortable in his seat, especially not having a clear idea on the outside, lifted the restraints and slowly made his approach to the cockpit, quietly watching from the back of the cockpit, gripping tightly to the co-pilots seat's cushions, observing the outside as the group flew in a close formation, it was both comforting and unnerving that nothing happened yet, that he thought both he and his troops were going in intact, but he knew all too well that the enemy was planning something. Within the instant, one of the dropships furthest ahead of the group was hit by by an unseen Graser beam as it exploded in a brief, but blinding light, before Caris could utter a word, another explosion rocked the dropship as his ship was damaged, the left wing, and thurster, was blown off from the main body of the aircraft, sending it spiraling down towards the surface, the pilots struggled to maintain altitude as they sped closer to Nishir, but overshot their landing as the dropship sped further and further away from the city and into the wastelands, deep in the middle of enemy formations as they made their advance towards the City.

The dropship came crashing down as it kicked up a sandstorm, pieces of the ship's hull peeling off from the heavy friction. The "landing" was not exactly pleasant for Caris, as he was sent ricocheting from within the ship, thankfully, his armor took most of the beating, but was left cut up and bleeding from the experience.

He laid on the floor moaning, sore from the pain, the few soldiers that were still conscience hastily lifted off their racks and rushed to their captain's aid, lifting him and placing him against the wall. The effect of the crash had set in as the same soldiers soon collapsed onto the floor, visions becoming more and more blurry. "Oh gods..." Caris mumbled as he came to. "Status!" he mustered the strength to call out his men. An assortment of varied confirmations were heard was heard, seemed everyone was fine, upon closer inspection however, around seven were confirmed dead. Caris stumbled and tripped as he stood up, holding onto the wall as he checked the cockpit, the pilots meeting the same fate, the broken glass and console stained with their blood. "Damn it.."

In the moment, Caris and his present soldiers had all forgotten that they were in the middle of a warzone, the typical sounds of war echoing. "Oh Gods this hurts.." Caris cried out, and was silent for a moment, before facing his men. "Gather your gear and haul ass, we got a long day ahead of us." He scanned his surviving soldiers and pointed towards a pair of fellow Ishkaans. "I need you support me on our trip...I'm not in the best shape to walk on my own for long..." Both nodded, Caris then turning to a human soldier. "You, we need to assess our situation, go checked for any hostiles."

The soldier replied with a simple "Sir!" before crawling out of the downed dropship, the sun beaming down, blinding him for a brief moment before taking notice of a Union AMMP lumbering over the arid landscape, a sight that would be his last as his head exploded in a bloody mess, his brothers-in-arms caught off-guard at his sudden death. "By the Prophet! We got godsdamn snipers!"

Well, the situation had certainly escalated, not only have they crashed in No Man's Land, lost quite a few men, elements of the 81st Battalion were now pinned down by an unknown sniper, and from the rather gruesome way their comrade died, this sniper was armed with a Conk-grade Graser Rifle, meaning none of them were safe.
Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by Oraculum
Raw
Avatar of Oraculum

Oraculum Perambulans in tenebris

Member Seen 2 days ago

Erelvath
Iurrthellir
Vasall, Sky Haven District


Night had fallen over western Iurrthellir. In truth, it had come a few hours too early, and was decidedly less dark than one could have expected; yet none of its inhabitants had seen anything strange in this. The revolution of the Garden-world had presently brought it into Jalaryias' shadow, an event known to occur roughly halfway through the former's orbital year, plunging cyclically growing and shrinking areas of its surface into a darkness faintly illuminated by starlight reflected from the gas giant and thus causing the succession of night and day to fluctuate in an odd, if regular manner. However matters might have stood, the nightfall would have been rather difficult to appreciate in Vasall for someone with complete optic perception, as the tiered nature of the city was such that all of its layers save the uppermost ones were cast into gloom. Yet the curious sensory organs of the Iurrkhal, scattered about their constantly shifting forms, were fully capable of detecting even such minute alterations as occurred in the lower sections. For them, the darkened sky, deprived even of the faint, reflected luminescence of the distant sun, was as visible as it would have been from a fully exposed plain, and, as was ever the case, there had been no delay in acting accordingly.

As every night, the inhabitants had been swift to retreat into their individual habitacles, sliding purposefully along the superimposed stretches of pillar-mounted roads and crawling their way along the paths spiralling around the stems of the titanic columns themselves, rising or descending to an adjacent stratum or, more rarely, several. Their motions, scrutinised by the unblinking gazes of the patroller drones, were orderly and practised, each retracing their way, without any major deviation, to their allotted dwelling in a metropolis-spanning pattern which was repeated six days out of eight, every time reiterating itself in perfect imitation of the previous occasion. The entire city was a single well-oiled mechanism, its innumerable parts moving in global coordination at a steady rhythm. And, just as a mechanism, despite pulsing with activity it would have seemed hollow and lifeless to those accustomed to different forms of civilisation. Here, no one slid out of line, at least not where they could be seen (and there were precious few places of that sort); no one stopped at intersections to exchange words with an acquaintance, or hailed a friend a few yards away, or even gestured in acknowledgement at incoming passers-by. No, everyone hurried along, their non-motory pseudopods limp along their formless sides, lest one of the metallic overseers descend upon them, clattering and whirring in programmed menace. And, of course, no one found this unnatural.

Yet, although this was not obvious from the citizens’ demeanour, Shadow Zone periods were a special occasion. An early nightfall meant an early end to the working day for many. No one deluded themselves that this was a fruit of the Combine’s generosity or considerateness; this apparent gift was, in truth, a measure to better exploit the singular conditions brought about by this stage of the orbital cycle by rerouting power from several facilities to certain particular installations measuring and absorbing the solar radiation filtered through Jalaryias’ mass, which apparently possessed unique physical properties. More obviously yet, it was additionally aimed at preventing any illicit activity which might have been carried out with the advantage of an extended period of darkness. Indeed, a curfew was technically in effect in such occasions, albeit its actual enforcement was generally supposed not to be very thorough. Nonetheless, far was it from any Iurrkhal to fail to appreciate these additional few hours of respite. Though brief, the day did not seem to have been any less fatiguing; and the utmost bliss for the vast majority of them was to laxen their simil-musculature with a controlled sequence of neural vibration while relishing the intimacy of their minute receptacles, a feeling that had been dear to their species since the subterranean beginning of its evolutionary saga, millions of years before.

Yet not everyone was presently creeping homewards in eager expectancy. Though, to a distant observer, it would have seemed that the entirety of Vasall was swarming with motion, upon closer inspection it would have become apparent that certain zones were still, almost deserted amidst the rushing torrent of motion. Some of them were nested deep at the city’s core, surrounded by sheer metallic walls and the luminescent crimson eyes of surveillance devices; others were scattered about its outskirts, humming wastelands of steel and ferrocrete dotted with emitter towers, radar emplacements and other, more outlandish constructions; and, lastly, perched high atop the northern edge of the uppermost layer, the Sky Haven. The others were such as to excite at least the fleeting interest and curiosity of those passing them by, as they momentarily pondered what governmental secrets and energy-warping processes might be concealed therein; but no one passed by the Haven, and no one thought of it. That was not the familiar synth-soil of their nation, however occult its own workings might have been; that was Covenant space. Something different altogether. As far as most of them knew, the laws of physics themselves might have been functioning differently in there – and, to an extent, they knew this to be true, as that was where the sleek, silent voidships alit from their flight through the cold darkness of the over-sky, and whence they disappeared once again on their inscrutable errands. That was unknown, forbidden ground. Yet not everyone was merely hurrying in as broad as possible a detour around it.

Atvall lengthened his body and wrapped it around the edge of the cubical structure – probably a hangar of some sort – behind which he was skulking, peering out from the concealing shadow of the overhanging reticulate grill above. The empty space that lay beyond it was perfectly still and silent in the dim planet-light, the shadows cast by the strange armatures and rows of identical storage depots surrounding it barely reaching two feet into its dry, smooth surface. Combine patroller drones did not come this far in their rounds, and they had left behind the last one a good eight segments before; nevertheless, he could not suppress the uneasy feeling which skittered along his internal sensory web like a dust spider on the hunt. This was no longer the city he had known as his home; this was the domain of the Covs, the periphery of their shadow empire. Dire rumours circulated among the factory personnel about what exactly their strongholds were like; some imagined them as nightmarish lairs of flesh and machine, fused together in unimaginable shapes and sinisterly alive; others as catacombs of indescribable devices and Vraslil monstrosities floating in liquid-filled vats; others as desolate, unnaturally silent architectural enigmas; many as some of all those, and other things yet. Thus far, the third group seemed to be the one closest to the truth. By his reckonings, they had already come quite far into the district; yet, thus far, they had not come upon anything that was moving, or, much less, alive. Everything was strangely immobile; atavistic sensations of something novel and unexplored, possibly fearsome, stirred within him as he withdrew and signalled for his companions to follow him into the shade of the nearest construction.

Slowly, carefully, they edged their way along the wall and into the largely exposed space beyond. True, there was no sign of activity, living or automated, anywhere near, but with the Covs one never could be certain of anything. Their senses themselves could have been deceiving them, enthralled by unknown machinery; no precaution was too extreme. If worse came to worse, though, they always had each other to rely upon. There were three of them – Atvall himself, Illver, from the power plant near the factory, and Tvaalil from the minor data node. An assembler, a lesser regulator and a sifter adjunct; one could not go any lower than this in the Combine pyramid. Their lives were not, strictly speaking, unendurable, considering what their forebears had traversed centuries before; but by no stretch of the imagination could they be called satisfactory. While some might have been content with knowing they existed to further the cause of the Combine, this sentiment was by no means universal, especially when offset by the knowledge that an imperceptible motion from the inscrutable upper spheres could very well spell ruin, or worse, for them and an indeterminate number of their peers for reasons they could only guess at. The appearance of immovable solidity was, when one thought of it, just that; the structure they formed and contributed to hold together was in truth frighteningly mutable, prone to arbitrary and inscrutable shifts. Not everyone perceived this uncertainty, or thought much of it; but those who did found it more oppressive than the weight of the iron grid constraining every second of their lives for years on end.

There were not many alternatives to their state. Indeed, for a long time there had been none at all. Finding a more secure spot was, as far as anyone knew, not something that depended on them. Leaving the system altogether was a plunge into unknown danger, something an Iurrkhal would be as eager to contemplate as voluntary self-termination, and which was, in essence, not so different from it. The Vraslil were not something one could appeal to, and the Covenant did not even lend itself to that thought. For centuries, then, they had endured. Then the Concordat had come. It was distant, lying far away in that outer void only the Covs braved; it was vague and insubstantial as a hallucinatory mirage over the ocean; it was something no one truly knew with any degree of depth. But it was something. Somewhere, miles away, was a place free from the metallic chaos of the Combine and its eternal, invisible threat, where life-enhancing technology was doled out to all, there were no ubiquitous patroller drones, no drastic production plan policies, no toxic machine chambers or cutting gears left exposed for material economy, and, most importantly, no vast, unseen pseudopod ready to descend at random and inexplicably alter the entire course of one’s life, if such was to be left at all. Somewhere, there was freedom.

They were now past the outer storage areas. There, beyond that railing, if Tvaalil’s information was correct, lay the core of the sector. There, the strange voidships stood ready to depart towards different worlds. True, none of them knew how to pilot one, much less how to actually find the Concordat if they did manage to take off; but surely the Covs would not have overlooked such precautions as spare instructions and charts. After all, their proverbial efficiency could not simply benefit them alone. Speaking of Cov efficiency-

“Quiet.” came Illver’s vibrations behind him in a pulse of laboriously low frequency. His sonic detection, refined by years of work with conduits and generator links, had already proved invaluable in avoiding Combine patrols on their way; now, it seemed its usefulness in such a capacity was decidedly not expired. “Something is moving there” he gestured tentatively towards a convexly recurve wall, perpendicular to the railing, about two dozen yards away from them, “Sounds like a drone, but strange… As if it was… bipedal?” The last word was decidedly more of an interrogative than an assertion. They all knew, of course, the Covenant’s designs were nothing like what they were accustomed to. They knew, also, that most sapient life in the system was, actually, bipedal – Erelvath was actually the exception. And yet, no creatures walking on two limbs had ever existed on its surface. That was something else, something alien. Why the Covs would tinker with it they could not fathom, and certainly not in that moment, with those regular metallic steps, now audible to all three, growing closer and closer.

Without exchanging a single word, they slid towards the point where the wall intersected a small building adjacent to the railing. If that thing’s vision was linear, they should have been safe. If not, well… Atvall tightly gripped the miniaturised particle emitter in his formless appendage, the small conical object seeming even more helpless than himself now. It was no more than a repurposed welding tool, set to maximum power, for all that was worth. Even as he had prepared it, he had been fully aware that it was unlikely to have much effect even on a Combine patroller, let alone a Covenant construct if at least a fraction of the voices concerning their fabled technological superiority was true. And yet he had taken it with himself nevertheless, keeping a potentially useful – potentially vital – appendage occupied. The feeling of its smooth plastoid surface against his malleable constitution and, more importantly yet, the knowledge that he was carrying something which could damage, perhaps even destroy, a hypothetical danger did not entirely reassure him, but he found it unconsciously reassuring. His defence might well have been laughably inappropriate and insufficient to fend off anything the group was likely to encounter, but there was at least some defence to speak of, and this was what mattered most.

The steps were now perfectly discernible, resounding from just behind the edge of the thicker section of fence which ran along the railing where it was closest to the wall. Moments later, a shape appeared beyond it. It was dark and indistinct, being heavily obscured by the railing; but, from what they could detect, it was taller than an Iurrkhal, slender, and it advanced with rigid, regular motions. The glimmers reflected from the parts of it briefly passing through patches of planet-light belied its metallic composition, and, at intervals, gleams of artificial purple light could be discerned. The figure disappeared behind a particularly thick blot of shadow, cast by some sort of broad pole standing near the railings; then, unexpectedly, it reappeared, now striding perpendicularly to its previous trajectory and into the empty stretch in a corner of which the three were now huddled. Illver had been right: it was bipedal, and generally similar to the off-worlders they had seen in holo-images, having likewise two forelimbs and a protrusion at the top of its body, known as a “head”. However, its similarities with forms of sentient life, however alien, known to them ended there. Its steel form was lined with tubes and cables, the very fact they were exposed hinting at their extraordinary resilience. Its head did not contain a set of varied organs, but was instead formed by a single, enormous optical receptor, its violet light cutting through the penumbral gloom of the premature night. In its perfectly symmetrical upper limbs, ending in sharp, bladed claws, it held an oblong device, small light emitters on it shining in the same tone as the machine’s visor. A weapon of some sort, clearly entire classes of power over Atvall’s emitter. It was all he had feared to imagine, and more yet. Whoever had designed this could not have been a stable Iurrkhal. Not even the Vraslil, to his knowledge, created such monsters. But the Covs were something else altogether.

Having entered fully into the diminutive square, the machine paused, its armoured hind limbs clattering to a halt in parallel positions. Slowly, measuredly, its head began to swivel to the side opposite to that of their corner. At a fairly narrow angle, it stopped; then, just as deliberately, it spun in the other direction. Towards them. How much was that? Fifteen, twenty degrees? At least twenty more, and there would have been no avoiding its implacable, unblinking gaze. By the looks of it, it could cover the whole circumference if it wished. Fifteen. Ten. Nine? Seven? Then, it froze in place. How broad was its zone of vision, anyway? Were they already in it? He felt his pseudopod involuntarily raising the emitter to the level of the machine’s main sensor. Useless – whatever it was it was holding, it could probably vaporise them all from where it stood. All the more than before he was conscious of the completely illusionary nature of his precaution.

But the mechanical sentry did not turn to face them. Its head swivelled back to its original position, and, not a second after, it had resumed its march. In less than a minute, it had disappeared among the depots to the other side of the square, the sound of its heavy, armoured steps gradually fading away in the distance. Tvaalil was the first to recover – gently nudging his companions, he slid forward, headed in the direction of the opening in the railing from which the machine had come. Soon, all of them had resumed their cautious, stealthy advance, crawling through the narrow gateway, across the short, winding pathways among buildings that became less and less identifiable as they went on.

Paths, openings, apparently identical squares, tunnels and, at one point, what seemed to be a bridge suspended over some sort of chasm plummeting down to the intermediate layers; in the measure that they delved further and further into the depths of the Covenant district, the surrounding architecture grew increasingly bizarre and outlandish, utterly unlike what they had known Vasall to be. One could almost think they were on another planet, or, worse yet, in a Nucleus, one of these Cov fortresses whose very existence on the surface of Erelvath was unsettling to more than a few. But, fortunately, this was not the case, and, however surreal the environment became, it could not warp distance itself. There, that vast, dark mass of a building rising against the shadowed skyline could not conceivably be anything else than what they imagined it to be. That was, then, the goal they had come so far and risked their lives themselves to reach. Their appendages were aching from exhaustion, and they could feel their under-sides unpleasantly warm with the accumulated friction; but it did not matter. There, within those walls, beyond the service shaft whose position Tvaalil had gleaned by fearfully sifting through restricted administration data while in a place he definitely should not have come close to, was the ultimate ticket to freedom. Freedom from all they had escaped, and from the heavy, crushing dread which still hung over them now. Here was the foot of the gigantic structure; here the narrow opening itself – far too narrow. Every inch was painful, and each of the numerous bends, too many to count, brought with itself the fear of remaining stuck there, to slowly starve while seeing nothing more than darkness for the entirety of their few remaining days, if they would have been fortunate enough not to be found by maintenance drones before that time. But there was point where the size of the duct or some protruding mechanism blocked them; the pain could not last forever; and, at length, there was light.

Atvall was the first to emerge, instinctively flattening himself in the shadow of some large stacked containers. The others followed suit; and it was not immediately that they realised there was sound as well as light. From beyond their cover, came a variety of intermingled noises – the metallic clattering and whirring of drones, the sliding of other Iurrkhal, the skittering of what they could only presume were Vraslil legs. There were voices, as well, both the vibrations of their kin and insectoid clicking and chittering; though they understood both, most of them were too distant to be intelligible, and the others were odd enough in their own right. Most intonations were unrecognisable, and, though single words could be distinguished well enough, they were placed together in the strangest of manners, as well as intermingled with grotesque imitations of Vraslil snapping, and accompanied by an even more ghastly mimicking of Iurrkhal vibrations by what were presumably Vraslil themselves. The Covs, it seemed, did not even speak in a normal language.

With extreme caution, feeling his entire body grow abnormally tense with terror, Atvall extended himself as much as was strictly necessary to gain a view of what was happening on the other side of the containers. They were near one of the walls of a large, brightly lit hexagonal room; in his position, he could not see its ceiling, and did not dare gaze upward just then. Standing in a rough semicircle were several large, curvilinear forms, which he recognised as voidships – transports, if he recalled that scheme properly. There were open hangar-like doorways in what were apparently their backs, with ramps leading up to them, and in and out of those there hurried some forty lifter drones, larger and bulkier than those he was familiar with, but otherwise fairly similar to them. They appeared to be carrying large, metallic crates of some sort out of the craft, stacking them in a point outside his field of vision, then returning to pick up more. At the centre of the formation, apparently unconcerned by the drones’ comings and goings, stood a rather diverse group of figures, engaged in conversation. There were three Iurrkhal, eleven- no, twelve Vraslil, and seven more shapes the sight of which made Atvall reconsider his previous thoughts on no entities worse than the machine they had encountered outside created by the bio-engineers. Larger than any of the speakers, these hunched aberrations stood upon two pairs of limbs, the rear ones almost entirely shapeless. Despite the disturbingly organic texture of what was supposedly their skin, their appearance suggested that at least parts of them were metallic, though it was unclear just which parts. Their fanged, split mandibles were still, but he could have sworn there was a glimmer of suppressed ravenous hunger in their expressions, if they could be called such.

Eager to divert his attention from the creatures, he focused upon what the group was saying. Though he could now hear them more clearly, their bizarre, mongrel speech made it impossible to fully understand more than sparse snippets of their conversation. He could distinguish the expressions “mining operations… scheduled begin… days… not urgent, but it… be completed”, as well as several disconnected grammatical units; but, just as he was beginning to make sense of them, the group began to separate, with all but one Iurrkhal and three Vraslil backing away. Realising that they would have been more likely to spot him now that they were no longer engrossed in their exchange, he swiftly withdrew, dragging back Illver and Tvaalil, who had in the meantime followed his example. Not daring to exchange even a single word, they waited for the sound of sliding pseudopods and rapidly tapping legs to disappear; then, hearing that those who had remained had apparently resumed their conversation, slowly edged their way beyond the corner of the container a second time. Indeed, there only remained four Covs, with their bestial guards, in the midst of the semi-circle; even the drones, having seemingly unloaded the voidships, were making their way towards a doorway in one of the walls at the furthest end of the room.

Once again, he strained to discern what was being said. One of the Vraslil was speaking; as his sight zoned in upon him, Atvall idly noted that the tip of his proboscis was, unlike that of the others, noticeably asymmetrical – there were two broadly spaced hooks on it instead of four. Anon, the words that came from that figure, interspersed as they were with alien sounds, crackled through his neural system and resonated through his ganglial nodes in such a manner as to immediately make him forget such details and agonisingly cling to every utterance, comprehensible or not. “…reach Concordat sanctuary… leaders alerted, only must… full authority, has… deniability… cybeasts provide factor…” The Vraslil’s interlocutors swayed in agreement, then, at his gesture, moved alongside him in the direction whither the drones had carried their load, followed by the monstrosities, which proved surprisingly agile for their size and ungainly appearance as the doors of all voidships but one at the semicircle’s edge began to quietly close.

Atvall turned to his companions. None of them said anything; the situation was clear. This was an opportunity they could not have dared to hope for. Of course, they would have to share the journey with the Covs and their monsters, risking discovery and a probably very painful execution every moment; but it was either that or take their chances with one of the other ships. Even if they somehow managed to open it, now that they were there each of them was, in truth, less confident in their ability to commandeer it and leave planetside without being shot down by some defence battery, let alone avoid pursuit by the Covenant war fleet – trained pilots, all of them – and make it to the Concordat in one piece. No, if there was a realistic possibility for them to achieve their much-coveted dream, this was it.

Casting a glance around the room to ensure the Covs were not in sight, and that there were no cameras (miraculously, there were none - no visible ones, at least), the three hurried towards the voidship’s entrance. They did not even pay much thought to how audible their movement might have been; every part of their bodies was strained to a tremendous extent, their focus entirely on their destination. They were slow, much too slow; but no, here was the door, and here the interior chamber. It was larger than Atvall had expected; but all he saw for the moment was that it was empty. Pausing the merest of moments to ascertain that nothing was moving inside the vessel, they plunged into an unlit darkened corridor, then another, another yet, some sort of auxiliary engine room, another corridor, a small, apparently – hopefully – out-of-the-way chamber. Illver pulled a sliding panel to a close behind them, plunging them into complete darkness. There was, as far they could feel, no manner of locking the entrance; they could only hope the Covs would not inspect the entire ship before leaving, or that they had already done so.

But, at least, they were still in a position to hope; and that was all that mattered.
1x Like Like
Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by Sigma
Raw
GM
Avatar of Sigma

Sigma

Member Seen 3 days ago

Collab between @Oraculum and @Sigma
Aurolia
Capital City of Tanis
Senate Building Landing Pad

Relations between the Aurolian Federation and the Iurrketh-Vraslir Covenant have always varied between neutral to cold, nothing outright or openly hostile, but neither are they allies, reasons related to this, Defense Secretary Uhann Tras was all the more perplexed by this arranged meeting with dignitaries from the Covenant. Flanking him were several armed guards and Admiral Nyxon Vitu, Commander of the Tarin Joint Expeditionary Force, who had previously been recalled temporarily, Tarin being the main topic of discussion. The group stood and awaited for the arrival of the Covenant Delegation.

Most fortunate, their wait wouldn't last very long, radio chatter in orbit had alerted them of the Covenant's arrival. Today was quite a busy day, in addition to the talks with the Covenant, there was the Schäferkin's little surprise peace offering earlier in the day. "I just pray it goes just as well.." Uhann mumbled to himself.

From the moment the vessel's approach had been detected, its signal had been steadily growing stronger as it approached the planet's surface. Soon, a minute, distant speck in the sky became visible from the landing pad. Curiously enough, however, no sound could as yet be heard approaching from its direction, a circumstance rather uncharacteristic of a spaceship landing. The spot rapidly grew in size, until at length it could be recognised as a vaguely triangular shape with a smoothly recurve upper end; and still its motion was perfectly silent. Itt was not until the vessel, by then distinguishable in its broader details - the lack of angles in its sleek structure, the protruding lateral extensions, resembling the fins of some strange aquatic creature - was less than half a mile away that a subdued humming emanating from it gradually became audible. Bizarrely enough, the sound, though now rendering the ship clearly recognisable as such, did nothing to detract from the otherworldly impression it created. Rather than a mechanical rumbling or the bellowing of reactors, noises it would have been logical to associate with a spacefaring vessel entering atmosphere, the droning was reminiscent of the buzzing of some gigantic winged insect, or the low growling of a hungry beast.

As the craft, having finally reached the landing pad, ceased its diagonal motion and lowered itself along a vertical trajectory, the humming sound ceased, briefly replaced by a soft whirring, not altogether unlike that of rubber transporter bands, which soon lapsed into a new silence, which was only broken when the ship touched the platform with a metallic clang. A few moments later, the rear of the vessel, which was facing the Secretary and his retinue, appeared to split into two even sides separated by a narrow fissure. The opening rapidly broadened, revealing itself to be a symmetrical, two-panelled doorway set into the center of the ship's wall; however, even as it stood fully open, the interior beyond it remained cloaked in impenetrable darkness. It was only when a ramp extended from the doorway's base that a suffused green glow lit the shadowed space, delineating within it several clearly alien figures which presently stepped, if such a term was appropriate, out from the ship.

Foremost among them was an arthropodal Vraslil, its proboscis twitching and darting from side to side as it took in the unfamiliar odors and atmospherically conveyed "tastes" of its new surroundings. Following it were two Iurrkhal, one, slightly smaller than its companion and with its brown pseudo-body veined with grey, sliding at the forefront, with the second, larger and entirely brown one following a few paces behind. Lastly, heralded by a rhytmic series of thundering metallic steps, five roughly humanoid drones, their heads marked only by a single circular blue mechanical eye and their three-digit claws carrying elongated rifle-like weapons of menacing appearance, closed the procession. The group, having descended upon the pad, stopped a few steps from the Aurolians; then, the Vraslil began to chitter and snap in the somewhat disquieting manner peculiar to its species. As it was still speaking, one of the drones intoned in a flat, slightly reverberating artificial voice:

"Greetings, honoured representatives of the Aurolian Federation. I am Swarm-Speaker Xalthil, Adjunct-Administrator of the Iurrketh-Vraslir Covenant; with me have come the distinguished Administrator Aulthellr and Cyber-Coordinator Aavruelt, of the Iurrketh Combine. We bid you a pleasant interaction time, and express the hope that our tractatives may bear results beneficial to us all."

The sight of these beastly and shapeless forms had great unsettled the Defense Secretary, no doubt the rest of his retinue would echo his sentiments, to add on to it, the presence of these humanoid machines were worrisome, the tales of the Great Machine War still echoing throughout Aurolian Socity even centuries later, building onto their great mistrust of thinking machines, but as long as they were obedient to their masters, there won't be much problems. In truth, while Uhann was somewhat afriad of these creatures, he also was quite curious, he had spent little time offworld, and has barely seen or interacted with the either the Vraslil or the Iurrkhal, and despite their strained relations, they've come to Aurolia to offer her assistance in her time of need, the Tarin Stalemate was a fragile one, either side was on the verge of breaching through the other's defenses, time was of the essence, and Uhann was to make great haste if the Federation has any hope in securing Tarin for itself, and of course, sealing away a potential powerful asset for the Concordant.

The Defense Secretary stepped forward from the group to approach the Covenant Dignitaries, clearing his throat before properly introducing himself to their new guests. "Administrators, Coordinator." He begun. "Allow me to formally welcome you to Aurolia, I am Uhann Tras, Defense Secretary of the Presidents Cabinet." He paused as he shown his hand towards the direction of the admiral. "And this gentlemen here is Admiral Nyxon Vitu, Commander of our forces currently stationed on Tarin." The admiral stepped forward. "Charmed." he replied, greeting the guests with a simple bow.

With that, Uhann turned his attention back to the Covenant Dignitaries. "I must admit, due to our distant relations, we were quite surprised to have your Government offer aid in the Tarin Crisis, I do suppose these times do make for strange bedfellows." He paused once again, a slight cough coming up. "Well, shall we move on? We have set up a private room for our talks, follow me gentlemen."

As Uhann spoke, the drone that had previously translated Xalthil's words emitted a series of clicking sounds similar to those the Vraslil had spoken, interspersed with some low vibrating pulses which, for their strangely organic quality, could not be quite mistaken for the spinning of machinery within its frame. When it finished, Xalthil slightly swayed upon his legs, signifying his assent, and launched into a new sequence of chitterings. This one, however, was far shorter than he previous. Upon it closing, the drone spoke once again:

"Affirmative. Pray do lead on, Defense Secretary of the Administrator's Cabinet."

Some time had passed as the two groups made their way into the Senate building, along their journey, they had garnered the attention of many passersby, Senators and Building employees alike had put a halt to all activities as the Covenant dignitaries followed the Defense Secretary and his escort down a few corridors until they've finally reached their destination, their designated room for today.

The two guards moved ahead, each of them grabbing hold of a door handle as they pushed through, allowing the group entrance, once all were accounted for, the guards softly closed off the room and as instructed, stood guard at the entrance to ward off any unwanted guests while the talks were in progress. The room was moderately sized, and in the center was a round wooden table with seven seats, the Defense Secretary and Admiral took their seats on the right side of the table while the Administrators, Coordinator and their machines took their place on the opposite end. "So, let's get down to business, shall we?" Uhann said, getting straight to the point of it all. "What can we do for you and what can you do for us?" He inquired.

Having clambered, not without difficulty, upon the unfamiliar contraption, even as the Iurrkhal filled theirs with greater ease given their gelatinous constitution and their escort stood to attention behind what were, supposely, their "backs", Xalthil spoke, with the drone dutifully translating:

"We are aware of the situation on the surface of the planetoid-moon Tarin. As circumstances are now, you are aware, the conflict upon it is isolated. However, the participation of such ponderous forces as the honoured Federation and the Concordat bears certain significant risks. Whilst the honoured Federation doubtless has no intention of compromising system-wide peace, none of us can guarantee for the Concordat and its goals. The Covenant has estimated it likely its goals may include destabilising global absence of conflict. It is in the interest of the Covenant that this should not occur. Doubtless the honoured Federation holds the same beliefs.

The predictions of the Covenant indicate that, if the supposed intent of the Concordat was neutralised at an early point, it would be deprived of a significant tool. Furthermore, elimination of the Concordat from the planetoid-moon Tarin would ensure it would be unable to access its critical, you are aware, natural reserves. This conclusion is doubtless highly desirable to both the honoured Federation and the Covenant.

The proposal of the Covenant is simple. The Covenant will assist the honoured Federation and its ennobled allies in neutralising the armed forces of the Concordat on the surface of the planetoid-moon Tarin. Additionally, the Combine Cyberforce, represented by Cyber-Coordinator Aavruelt, will assist in the necessary military operations. The system-wide activity of the Concordat displeases the Iurrketh Combine, and it is in its interests to neutralise it."

When Xalthil reached this part of the speech, Aavruelt undulated on his seat, twitching his three foremost pseudopods and filling the air with perceivably tense vibrations. The drone continued:

"The intrinsic value of the neutralisation of the Concordat has been expounded. However, the Covenant estimates that the military operations mentioned will involve a significant expense of resources and life of inhabitants. Therefore, the Covenant and the Iurrketh Combine intend to accompany their proposal with a single condition for the honoured Federation. Upon completion of the military operations and cessation of hostilities, the honoured Federation and its ennobled allies are to cede a fraction of the natural reserves of the mineral renthulium extracted from the planetoid-moon Tarin to the Covenant. The mentioned fraction has been calculated not to affect the acquisitions of the honoured Federation negatively, and amounts to an approximate value of three point four nine seven nine percent. Extraction methods will be agreed upon successively. The Covenant and the Iurrketh Combine will issue no further demands and will not interfere with the activities of the honoured Federation.

We trust the honoured Federation will find these terms agreeable."

As the drone finished, the two Iurrkhal swayed and pulsed as if to signify their approval, while Xalthil remained still, save for his twitching proboscis, as he expected a reply.

The two Ishkaan looked to one another, both nodding in approval as they turned their attention back to the Covenant dignitaries. The Defense Secretary stood up. "We do indeed find these terms agreeable." Uhann said. " And we can most definitely arrange your preferred land claims once this terrible conflict can be behind us once and for all."

Xalthil waved his appendage contentedly as the drone reproduced Uhann's words in a form comprehensible to him, and the two Iurrkhal writhed in satisfaction. The Vraslil then replied through his mechanical intermediary:

"We observe the honoured Federation is most capable of appraising selections guaranteed to benefit all. We are pleased. As soon as the honoured Federation will provide the Covenant and the Iurrketh Combine with relevant strategic information, our armed forces will intervene in the conflict. This day marks the beginning of a new, auspicious era."
1x Like Like
Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by Ozerath
Raw
Avatar of Ozerath

Ozerath U WOT M8?

Member Seen 3 yrs ago

Outskirts of Nishir City
Tarin
Armed Mobile Mining Platform Beauty Queen


Ademnon made his way down the AMMP's massive bulk until he reached an outrider platform. A Union APC pulled up alongside, easily matching Beauty Queen's ponderous speed. He easily hopped over the distance between them. The APC's top hatch popped open, expecting him, and he clambered in. The drivers had evidently not seen fit to inform the soldiers in the back to expect visitors, and his arrival caused some surprise before his maskless face registered on them. The Union soldiers lowered their weapons and returned to their seats, eyeing him a little fearfully. They knew the Conks were allies, but many were still wary of them. Ademnon made a mental note to give a little more warning next time he hopped into an APC: a number of the Union soldiers were carrying Concordat graser rifles, and that could well have proved fatal if a jumpy soldier shot him. At the very least, it would have been very, very inconvenient.

"There's a Fed dropship down in no man's land," he announced without preamble. "We're going to round up the survivors." The squad of soldiers looked at their lieutenant, who nodded slightly. Ademnon, after all, was an 'advisor', not their commanding officer. Why he was doing this personally...well, he knew exactly why he was doing this personally, but now was not the time to dwell on the mental implications of his high risk behaviour. He took a seat as the APC sped off towards the downed dropship, a tank breaking off from the formation to escort it. The journey was quick, and before he knew it the soldiers were jostling out of the APC's rear hatch, while one of them manned the vehicle's turret. Ademnon donned his armour's helmet and strode out confidently as the soldiers began to fan out and surround the dropship. The tank circled slowly, it's heavy and light weaponry trained on the wrecked aircraft. Ademnon nodded at the lieutenant, who connected his comm to the APC's loudspeaker.

"This is Lieutenant Ashton, Confederacy of Independant Mining Unions Armed Forces. You're surrounded. Drop your weapons and come on out."

Caris and his men were hunkering down after they lost a man to that sniper, bracing themselves for the inevitable mess to quickly follow, and they were proven vindicated once a shot amount of time had passed, soon they had a squad of CIMU soldiers surround their dropships, although none had dared to step outside, less they they possibly meet the same fate as their fallen brother, they could easily hear the rumbling of a tank fading in and out, no doubt it was cycling around them. "What do we do, Colonel?" One of the soldiers supporting Caris asked.

"Our situation just got worse.." Another soldier said.

"Calm down." Caris spoke up. "No need to escalate things...I don't need more dead today." Caris didn't need time to ponder, he already knew what to do, he'll make damn sure to get these men and women to safety, even if it was in enemy hands. "I'm going out." He said, the two soldiers loosen their grip as he stumbled forward, slowly making his way outside to be met with the Union Soldiers, raising one hand up. "We Surrender!" he shouted as loud as he could, or at least as loud as his breathing mask could permit. "Don't shoot! We got wounded!"

Ademnon breathed a small, satisfied sigh. The Feds had seen reason. His keen eyes noticed the Ishkaan emerging from the dropship had a pronounced limp. He made a gesture at Ashton, and the Union lieutenant caught on after a moment. At his command, two soldiers moved forward to assist the wounded Fed. A second APC pulled up just then, this one disgorging a medical team and a few soldiers. The medics hurried towards the dropship as more Feds began to emerge. Within a few minutes, the Feds had been searched, disarmed, and cuffed, and their wounded were stabilized and loaded into the APCs. Ademnon joined the wounded for the return to the AMMP; he was assuming that the Ishkaan who'd offered surrender was the ranking officer, and he was interested in talking to the man.

The APC was cramped and noisy with the protestations of the wounded. The medics had patched them up, but it was still a bumpy ride back to Beauty Queen. The APC wasn't pressurized, so everyone kept their respirators on. Everyone except Ademnon, who pulled off his armoured helmet and stared pensively at the Ishkaan. "What's your name soldier?" he asked.

Caris' eyes widened in sheer surprise at what the other Ishkaan had just done, he knew all too well what kind of person he was, a Conk, the enemy. Caris maintained his composure, there was no need to cause a scene, but he was now facing off against a soldier of the Federation's enemy. "Caris Vakir,." He calmly replied.

"You're a long way from home, Caris Vakir. I wasn't aware the Federation had declared war on the Confederacy of Independant Mining Unions," Ademnon said with a small smile, a jab at the Federation's increasingly overt involvement on Tarin.

Caris remained straight-faced. "Technically, we're peacekeepers here on the behalf of the Tarin Guilds." He replied in kind. "The CIMU just so happen to be in our way." He paused a moment, and spoke again."I could honestly ask you the same."

Ademnon shrugged. "The Concordat is simply selling the Unions weapons and equipment, and providing a little training. We certainly aren't deploying dropships full of our own soldiers to intervene in the conflict."

"As said, keeping the peace." He blankly replied.

The old Concorded laughed. "If you insist, Caris Vakir."

Before much longer, the APC had returned to Beauty Queen. It swung around behind the AMMP and ran up a boarding ramp to a small vehicle bay. The wounded, Caris included, were taken inside to the medbay, while the other Feds were rounded up and taken to holding cells. Ademnon checked in on a few things in the command center. The Union assault force was approaching Nishir quickly. A little too quickly even; he wanted to get the Fed prisoners airlifted away from the front before the assault began. But there might not be time for that. All the more reason to get started on interrogation.

With that in mind, Ademnon sought Caris out in the medbay. The Federation soldier's mask had been removed now that they were in the AMMP's pressurized interior, and Ademnon suddenly recognized him, and gave a small chuckle.

"You know," he said to Caris as he took a seat beside the man's bed. "I saw you at a bar in Pavliu not long ago.

"Heh, a small world isn't it?" Caris grinned and chuckled. Although laughing it off, Caris had sudden realization that made his stomach sank a bit. "Well shit, if you ended up there.. security's been compromised." Caris was silent for a moment, his eyes turning away before refocusing on the Conk. "I'm quite impressed actually. Security wasn't top-tier, but somewhat tight, yet youy managed to walk in our main base of ground operations with no incident."

"I had a few close calls. You might want to invest in more implant detectors though. Still, not like I'll be walking into Tanis any day soon." Ademnon suddenly looked a little unhappy. "On a related note, I'd hardly be doing my job if I didn't start asking you questions. Questions I'm sure you don't want to answer. I'd really prefer if you answered on your own, but I do have another option," he said ominously.

"Try at it, you may be pleasantly surprised." Caris said. "Or you may get what you expected and be disappointed." Caris braced himself, who knows what terrible lengths this Conk would go too for any sort of valuable intel regarding either the Guilds or the Federation presence here on Tarin.

"Alright, how about we start with the name of that carrier you have in orbit, as well as your verification codes to approach it." Ademnon decided it was worth at least asking before he employed his alternative.

"Going for the grand prize aren't we? Guess you'll be in the latter point." Caris said, his "lips" were quiet sealed at that point. "You'll have to do better then that Conk."

Ademnon shrugged. "Worth a shot." He produced a small syringe full of something metallic looking. "Something new we've developed. I'm sorry to say, but this may hurt. A lot." He quickly jabbed the syringe into Caris' arm. Caris felt a slight pinch...and that was it.

"That was...unexpected." Caris was dumbfounded at what just occurred, the Conk was messing with him. "Haha, very funny." Caris wasn't amused, until once again, the realization sank in and he had to ask. "What did you just inject me with?" Caris was begining to get nervous, thoughts racing in his mind, was it some sort of new bioweapon? Probably was most likey, all the more reason for his heart to race followed by heavy breath, the fear rising.

Ademnon looked confused. "Wait, did that not hurt? They told me it would hurt. Weird...Anyway, don't worry too much. It's pretty neat actually. Basically, a bunch of nanites are going to copy your brain and let me view your memories as data. It shouldn't take too long." Ademnon wasn't actually too sure about that last part. Fed brain conditioning was top notch, but apparently these nanites could get around it. He just wasn't sure how quickly.

Caris let out a loud sigh of relief, it wasn't any sort of horrific bioweapon, but of course, he grew a new sense of fear and anxiety, sure the minds of Fed Officers such as himself were truly a daunting task to crack wide open, no matter the most often unpleasant outcome that usually is to follow. But in this case, he was dealing with Conk technology, a quite unpredictable scenario, because no matter what, those machines will bore into his brain eventually, the possibility of success was quite high, but he'll mentally resist nontheless, he's seen things, things that could turn the tide of the war against the Guilds and the Task Force.

A low rumble shook through the AMMP. Ademnon looked distant for a moment as he tapped into the massive vehicle's systems and figured out what was going on. The battle was starting. "Well, I'd better get up to the command center and do some advising," he said ruefully. "I'll be back later."

Caris sense of relief grew as the Conk made mention of the battle and left the room, this was good, for the most part, the reliability of the Guilds military although was varied, the recent battle from before a good indication of their mixed nature, he previously had the honor of meeting the Commander of the 2nd Nishir Regiment, a human by the name of Argus Bradley, once a leader of a rather infamous mercenary outfit, the Ashen Devils, Argus now serves under the semi-permanent contract of Jasan Armored Solutions, one of the major members other Tarin Guilds. "Heh, they may be breaking under the pressure, but Argus will give ya one hell of a bloody nose before you take the city." Caris mumbled to himself.
Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by JaceBeleren
Raw
Avatar of JaceBeleren

JaceBeleren Unraveler of Secrets

Member Seen 7 yrs ago

Emperor Hayashima Togoki, Ultimate Majesty of Terra, and leader of the vast majority of the human race, recieving a report about recent occurences on Tarin. Dossier on the war in hand, his best advisor, Mirama Hoyoko, on hand, he thought he had a way for everything he wanted for his species to fall into place.

"Tarin, as you know, has huge deposits of an extremely valuable mineral knowm an renthulium. This is being fought over in a proxy war between the Aurolian Federation and the Concordat. Providing ground support for either side could be exchanged for a share of the renthulium, providing funds for a more substantial interstellar navy." She told him, keeping her eyes firmly on the polished marble floor. She was afraid, like everyone was, that should she even glance at the Emperor, she would burn into a pile of ash.

"Yes, it makes sense. But which side?"

"Supporting a losing side might allow you to get a better deal, as they will be more desperate, but is more of a risk, and might end up costing more in the long run by using more troops. Supporting a winning side will do the opposite - good and bad, but runs the additional risk of being turned down. In that situation, you could threaten to support their enemy, returning them to the bloody stalemate they've suffered for so long already, but that would be just as costly for you as for them. However, currently neither side has an apparent advantage. Perhaps waiting it out would be the best option?"

"You know me, Hoyoko. I'd rather not sit by idly while my goal is so close, just to watch it slip through my fingers like sand. If not the war, then something else needs to be my focus. I can't do nothing."

"Then how about something more subtle? You know, of course, of the small handful of Assar-Rhen who miss the comforts of their past modern lives. There is one we have established regular contact with, and the entire species has proven to be capable enough. If one were to get to the front, say, on one of the ships that illegally traffic people from the planet, she could send information to you, perform sabotage, or even capture someone for ransom, as you decide. It would be a foothold through which your influence in the area could grow."

"Then let it be so."




Jessica Vex's family had come from one of the many areas throughout the world which had to be forcefully conquered by the Empire, as her name clearly suggested. Never feeling at home, she travelled from place to place, but all were part of the Empire, so all were the same. Eventually, she went to the one place in the world that wasn't just another like the last one: the Assar-Rhen (taking the name Kopsotia, meaning "elegance"). But she grew tired of this, too. She was the sort of person who needed to travel, but had nowhere to travel to. She found her solution back where she began: she could get off-planet if the Empire wanted her there. So she sold her unique capabilities to them.

She got to the meeting point. Her skin was schockingly pale, she was from the white tribe. At least it wasnt blue, or green, she could pass off as human like this. She wore a scarf, to hide her spore-slits. And now, a very faint light, gliding towards her. A small, black shuttle, no larger than a van, landed quietly next to her, and the door raised open. The pilot, an Ishkaan, took his money and got underway quickly. The Invigilator guns "didn't see them", of course. Everything was going smoothly so far. She would soon be taken up to a small pirate space station, then transferred to a vessel better suited for longer journies. After that would come her arrival in Tarin, her mission, and her reward: her freedom.
Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by CaptainBritton
Raw
Avatar of CaptainBritton

CaptainBritton Man of War

Member Seen 10 hrs ago


Xiro, Capital of Itium

Day 4, Month of Itius

The air was brisk and cool, yet the sun shone bright, across a cloudless sky of purplish-blue. The dwarf moon Feavis hung low in the sky, as close as ever with its dull purple. The forums of the city bustled, merchants and citizens alike crowding these civilized strip malls dotted everywhere across Xiro. Iti'Okh of higher status marched around proudly in vibrant fabrics, many accompanied by their Iti'Ni "servants", slaves of many purpose, while the lower classes bumbled in tunics and skirts. But, on everyone's lips, from the wealthiest banker to the lowliest slave, was the same thing. The election. Storefronts and news posts were rife with gossip, debates, and, in some cases, scuffles, over the results of the election for the newest Consul.

The pick had occurred a mere few days ago, at the turn of the year, and it was inauguration day. The lucky man himself, a former Legatus and Magistrate by the name of Vytan'Syvo. "That man is no good!" growled an old man in commoner's tunic, complaining. "I heard he wants a weaker Republic! He wants the provinces to govern themselves, to maintain militias! He is no good, I tell you all!" He called out over the din of the forum. None bothered to answer, as most were funneling westwards, where a spire towered above the city adorned with their own banner, and below it, the governmental Capitol building known as the High Curia, or alternatively, the Consulate.




Banners adorned the immaculate and polished marble and stone walls of the Consulate, and the pillars afront towered high above the crowds of mixed composition. And on those steps, a platform, and atop it stood Vytan himself, surrounded by Senators and Magistrates, and secured by a perimeter of Praetorian Guard.

He wore armor of gold color, but of normal function, a traditional dress for any Consul that had served. Hanging from the creases in the armor, the mark of the Consul, a cape of purple normally shrouded around the Consul's robe. After waves and greetings to the cheering crowd, a Senator took the stage, the crowd growing quiet. He tapped the rather out-of-place microphone, clearing his throat and speaking.

"Greetings, people of Itium. As you may know, the elections are over, and the new Consul has been elected, to serve his term of eight years, and it is my job, as the Senatorial Speaker, to confirm the inauguration. So, let us get on with it." He beckoned Vytan, stepping to the side of the microphone and straightening his purple Senatorial sash.

Vytan stepped forward, standing parallel to the Speaker, and the Speaker began again. "Vytan'Syvo, Magistrate of the Grere Province and former Legatus of X Legion, by popular sovereignty of the People, the Council, the Senate, and, above most, the Gods, you have been selected, by candidacy and election, as the next Consul of the Republic of Itium, as the supreme Executive, commander of the Excercitus, and the hand of the Gods. Please raise your right hand and repeat after me."

"I, Vytan'Syvo, House Syvo." Said the Speaker, with Vytan repeating, and with the same throughout the rest. "Do swear, under the Gods, to maintain the freedom and wellbeing of the People and the Republic, and to obey the Compact strictly, with every breath within my body." Vytan was with it the whole time, repeating it as it came, and the Speaker diverted once it was done. "Gods assist you, Consul."

Vytan stepped to the microphone, mandibles adjusting. "My deepest thanks, Senator." He turned to the audience, who were still silent for the most part. "People of Itium," His raspy voice boomed. "I would like to start on the note that I may be Consul, but I am not your ruler. I may be the Executive, but I am no monarch. No, as the Consul, I do not rule, I am no dictator. I am a servant, a servant to the Gods, and a servant to the People." The crowd rustled, cheers escaping in a roar which ceased only a period that seemed ages later.

"As you may know, it is a new age. The last revolt is behind us, a century ago, and we are united, stronger than ever before, and all that is left to look to, is the stars. For too long have we been reclusive, hermits that served to only alienate ourselves from those out there that we know exist." He called, the crowds answering with a cheer.

"Make no mistake, the strife is not gone. Tough times will be upon us... “ He paused, thinking. “But we must have the will, the endurance, and the power to see through those trials, for as long as we are in the favor of the Gods, we shall know no fear, we shall know no defeat, and we shall forever triumph!” The crowd erupted in a roar of cheers as the Consul turned, exiting stage left.

Short but sweet, the inauguration speech said what needed to be said. Itium is on the rise.
Hidden 7 yrs ago 7 yrs ago Post by Oraculum
Raw
Avatar of Oraculum

Oraculum Perambulans in tenebris

Member Seen 2 days ago

((Collaboration with @Ozerath))

Outer Orbit of Jalaryias
Environs of Sanctuary Station


Surrounded by the eerie silence of the deathly sidereal void, the ship swept through its chill expanse, its shape and rapid, smooth motion rendering it similar to some sort of abyssal predator swimming through murky oceanic depths. Some hundred thousand miles away, yet seemingly no less vast for the distance, the silhouette of Jalaryias loomed ahead, akin to a small, faint sun, to such an extent that it had likely been mistaken for one by many of the system's inhabitants in their early, primitive days. Though its satellites were both large and numerous, almost none could be seen from the ship's position, save for a few sparse, barely visible asteroids constellated across the luminous circle of its surface. Unless one were equipped with instruments more discerning than mere vision, the vessel itself would have appeared to them as merely one of those; and so would its destiation likewise have appeared to its occupants, had their own perceptions not been suitably enhanced and funneled through the craft's mechanical conduits.

Within, the ship appeared almost as empty as its external surroundings. Manifestly, it was desiged to accommodate far greater numbers than the company which had presently taken up quarters in it. There was some animation in the fore sections, with rays of golden light streaming into the penumbra beyond, accompanied by the chittering of Vraslil voices. However, most of the large, vaulted chambers, which could, for their conformation, have served as rudimentary barracks, hangars or storage depots alike, were empty, the darkness in them feebly pierced by dim green lights streaming from rown of diminutive projectors along the intersection between the walls and the floor, and the silence only slightly disturbed by the low humming of motors somewhere below and occasionally broken by the steps and rasping breathing of patrolling cybeasts.

Presently, however, life seemed to course through the hollow spaces. The green lights grew more intense, and scurrying steps began to be heard throughout the vessel, accompanied by rhytmic metallic clattering, as its occupants sprang into motion. Though it was not particularly perceivable from within, its motion was growing progressively slower, as the engines shifted to a stance more suited for finer manoeuvering. The ship was approaching its destination.




Sanctuary shone like a beacon in the void. The station was massive, and still growing. The lights of its artificial cities shone from within their habitat domes, beckoning travellers closer. There was a throng of traffic flitting about the station, freighters and transports from all over the orbitals, interspersed with golden Concordat cutters diligently policing the flow. The station was not armed, of course. It was a civilian installation. Powerful shield generators could keep it safe for a time, and anyone with half a brain knew that Concordat warships lurked just out of range, silent and ready to strike at a would be invader. Sanctuary's reputation also helped protect it; the largest civilian hub beyond the garden moons was hardly a valid military target. Anyone who attacked it would be attacking the citizens of a dozen nations; destroying it would constitute an atrocity.

The Covenant vessel was granted clearance and assigned an approach vector. Soon enough, it was nosing against the station's bulk, attaching tubes and conduits.

A tone sounded in the waiting room. Kedal practiced her most diplomatic smile. Joren conveyed his amusement at her over the network. Sendema was not with them, thankfully. Kedal had managed to convince her to skip this particular meeting. Sendema was not a great admirer of the Covenant, and Kedal was not keen to have her bluntness foul up negotiations. Herself and Joren were adequate representation, each of them Star Chamber members from opposing factions. They would suffice to advance the Concordat's agenda. The door to the airlock began to cycle open, and Kedal turned to face it, assuming the smile she'd been practicing.

Due to the rather restrictive positioning requirements in boarding such an object as Sanctuary, the ship was so placed that its boarding ramp was facing the void, regrettably rendering the somewhat militaristic typical landing display of Covenant delegations impossible in these circumstances. However, whoever it was that arranged the usage of its openings was seemingly quite capable of adapting to unusual situations. As the airlock door gradually unlocked, wisps of yellow-greenish vapour escaped through the narrow space between its edges and the metallic surface around them, rapidly dissipating in the waiting room's clear air, albeit not without leaving a strange, unplceable and mildly unpleasant odor hovering about it. Then, the door swung open, revealing a vast, shadowy space, only a part of which was conspicuously visible, partly lit by regular patterns of low green lights. Then, something stirred in the rearmost shadows of the chamber, and a number of distinctly alien shapes emerged from it.

The first to step out of the ship and into Sanctuary were a pair of Vraslil, one of them slightly bulkier and shorter-limbed than the other. Their proboscidal appendages twitched in their customary manner as they took stock of the new environment, then briefly flailed in confusion as they were met with the uncustomarily sterile, artificially conditioned air of the station before hastily returning to more composed motions. Following them was a Iurrkhal, to all appearance, rather unremarkable for his species, whose only reaction was a mildly suspicious pulsation of his central body. Behind them, closing the procession as an otherworldly honour guard, seven large quadrupedal amalgams of bestial flesh and metal crawled out of the darkness with a vaguely arachnoid gait, their laboured breathing the loudest sound rising from the group.

Having reached what might well have been the limit of the respectful distance from the Concordat representatives, the delegation stopped. If even they did notice Kedal's smile, they apparently did not think much of it, but their cerimonious oscillating motions seemed to indicate a greeting of sorts. Then, the foremost Vraslil began to speak in its language of clicks and vibrations. Resounding over his characteristically indistinct words, a mechanical monotone rang out from the bulk of one of the beasts, without, however, the creature itself having moved in the slightest:

"We salute the honoured representatives of the beneficent Concordat. I am Swarm-Speaker Xalthil, Adjunct-Administrator of the Iurrketh-Vraslir Covenant; these who accompany me are the distinguished Adminstrator Evrell and Cycle-Bearer Rezthil, of the Global Vraslir Union. We hail you with the hope that our communication shall be enjoyable and fruitful for us all."

Kedal spread her hands wide and low in a welcoming gesture. Well, other bipeds would certainly recognize it as a welcoming gesture; whether the distinctly alien Covenant members would make that connection was unsure. There were plenty of Iurrkhal in the Concordat, many of them here on Sanctuary. Certainly enough to develop working translation software, which Kedal had loaded in her cortical processor. Her understanding of body language was considerably more limited, and she couldn't hope to mimic their gestures with her own tetrapod configuration. She was faintly amused by the discrepencies between what the Covenant translator was saying and what her own software was telling her. Evidently Xalthil was not being as polite as their translator was indicating. Naturally she had zero intention of letting the Covenant representatives she could understand their language on her own. That was not an advantage one lightly gave up in diplomacy.

"I am Kedal, this is Joren, both of the Star Chamber. We welcome you to Sanctuary. If you would come this way?"

She led them to a lift car, which ushered them deeper into the station, then up the curve of a habitat dome towards the traditional conference room at the apex. As the lift moved them along, Kedal made an effort at small talk. Again, she wasn't sure if the Iurrkhal and Vraslil would appreciate the effort, but a lifetime of politics and diplomacy made the attempt almost instinct.

"Is Sanctuary as you expected it would be? Few Vraslil have seen it." She did not mention the many, many *Iurrkhal* who had seen it. No point bringing up that sore spot, which again made Kedal grateful Sendema was not here. Much as she admired Sendema's vision and drive, it would hardly do to have her casually referring to the Covenant representatives as 'primitive' and 'backwards'.

Joren abruptly spoke to her over the network. Kedal easily engaged him in conversation even as she listened to Swarm-Speaker Xalthil's response.
"I guarantee they're here about Tarin." Joren's certainty was conveyed quite clearly over their connection.
"And if they are? We could use the assistance, even with the Tremarians on our side."
"It doesn't add up. Why approach us now? What's changed?"
"You worry too much.
"Maybe. Let's just be careful."


Xalthil had finished speaking, and the translator...being...was beginning to recount his words in that mechanical monotone.

As soon as the Swarm-Speaker's greeting had been answered, the creature which had rendered his words in a - supposedly - more comprehensible form began to whirr and chitter after the fashion of his own speech, manifestly for the delegation's benefit. The process was repeated with Kedal's question once the group had been conveyed by the lift to a height allowing them to appreciate the vistas of the station's interior, whereupon Xalthil, having remained still for a few moments as he elaborated the question posed to them, replied, rejoindered by the voice emanating from the cybeast:

"Few Vraslil, yes. Our collective holds little information. Notwithstanding the overview conforms to our suppositions sufficiently for the reliability of them not to be compromised. Have the distinguished Adminstrator Evrell and Cycle-Bearer Rezthil observations in addition to the empirical appraisal?"

"Contrary to predictions, biodiversity could be enhanced by my individual estimates." Rezthil spoke through the mechanical translator, "Ambient conditions are optimal for the undertaking, yes, esteemed Administrator Evrell?"

The Iurrkhal seemed to briefly, but conspicuously contemplate either the query or his surroundings. "Simulated atmospheric cleansing is perceived sufficient for the undertaking. Simulated sky objects could concern utilization."

Such, at least, was the version of their words provided by the machine, and, in a strictly literal sense, it was accurate enough. However, what the translator program did not, and probably could not, adequately transpose to another language were the intonations and characteristically subtly interwoven turns of phrase, with which Covenant speech was replete, which could have provided to anyone personally familiar with it a far greater insight into the true intent of the envoys' words. Xalthil was somewhat puzzled at being asked what he understood to be a strategically evaluative question; Rezthil did not make a great effort to conceal that he believed biodiversity not only could, but should be "enhanced" if it was to meet any acceptable standard, and Evrell's appraisal left little to the imagination regarding what exactly he thought of just how unproductive that holographic sky was.

"We are assured that the honoured Concordat will employ our input in methods it trusts appropriate." Xalthil clicked out once again, in a tone which might have appeared either conciliatory or signifying agreement wih the others' comments, "Mutual benefit resides in our interest." This last part betrayed a certain impatience, as though he were eager to establish said benefit in a more concrete form.

Joren smiled briefly. "It's a work in progress," he said in response to the commentary. Kedal nodded sagely. "We'll be certain to consider your assessment going forward." Not the most productive exchange, but it had served its purpose. The lift deposited them in the conference room. On one side of the table were a number of chairs. On the other were a few podiums designed for Iurrkhal, and some empty space for the Vraslil delegates. Kedal and Joren took two of the chairs. They took a moment to sort out their thoughts, almost literally. Both of them ran quick self diagnoses, double checking that their implants were all working and connected to the station's network.

Adequately settled in, Kedal took the lead. "We are delighted to entertain representatives of the Covenant, and always welcome the opportunity to improve relations between our two great nations. Fostering cooperation and understanding is a worthy objective, after all." She said it like a question, but before the delegates could begin to formulate an answer, Joren cut in.
"Indeed, but let's be more specific. What can the Concordat do for you, and what can you do for us?"

Kedal was not satisfied with simply conveying her displeasure over the network. She actively scowled at Joren for a moment as he got straight to the point, rather than letting her wind her way there through formalities and pleasantries. No one seemed to appreciate formalities anymore.

Having reached the table, Evrell crawled upon one of the podiums with an oozing, but rather stately motion, whilst the Vraslil took position to his right, with Xalthil in the middle. The creatures, which had followed the delegation into the conference room, arrayed themselves in a semicircle behind them, the one serving as, or containing, a translator in the figure's center. The three delegates exchanged brief undulations - what might have passed for nods and glances among them - then Xalthil began to speak, the translinguistic rendition this time having virtually no discrepancies from the original, at least as far as meaning was concerned:

"We believe the honoured Concordat is aware that the planetary system our collectives populate is as currently within an epoch of socio-political instability. Forces actively opposed to the Covenant and the honoured Concordat have entered functioning. In the span of recent planetary month units, damaging enterprises have been accomplished over the surface of Erelvath by agents subordinate to the Aurolian Federation, which has been learned. The detailed accounts of the damaging enterprises are desirably not divulged; notwithstanding it is established that the purpose of mentioned is to provoke instability about the dominion of the Covenant and the reverend constituent nations. The ulterior motive has been calculated to consist in inducing weakness and disorder in probable preparation for martial offensive.

The hostility of the Aurolian Federation in respect of the Covenant is veterate and ancestral, and it has been predicted the inimical force would implement disruptive and damaging measures at given moment. The bolstering and proliferation of the Aurolian Federation and the fruition of its hostile targets would result in an undesirable outcome for alike the honoured Concordat and the Covenant, and conceive significant instability across the planetary system.

We possess intelligence regarding the Aurolian Federation having engaged in military deployment upon the surface of the planetoid-moon Tarin. In addition, the notoriety of the honoured Concordat implementing measures to maintain the structure of the planetoid-moon Tarin secure is gathered by us. Projections of the Covenant indicate that neutralisation of the armed forces deployed from the Aurolian Federation is probable to destabilise its hostile functions and induce shortages of assembled intent.

Ensuingly, the Covenant finds interest in extending the following proposal to the honoured Concordat. The Covenant will deploy armed forces in support of the structure of the planetoid-moon Tarin which it is a functional target of the honoured Concordat to preserve and assist in the neutralisation of inimical presences. Additionally, the Cycle-Bearers of the Global Vraslir Union, represented by Cycle-Bearer Rezthil, will assist in the operations of support and neutralisation."

At this point, Rezthil slowly waved his proboscis in approbation. The Swarm-Speaker continued:

"The neutralisation of the Aurolian Federation is beneficial; notwithstanding, we estimate the material cost for the Covenant and the Global Vraslir Union is probable to result significant. Therefore, we possess authorisation to forward a single condition for the honoured Concordat. Upon the accomplishment of the neutralisation of the Aurolian Federation, the honoured Concordat is to assist in negotiations between the Covenant and the autonomous planetoidal structure to the effect of the planetoidal structure ceding a fraction of the natural reserves of the mineral renthulium extracted from the planetoid-moon Tarin to the Covenant. The mentioned fraction has been calculated not to affect the acquisitions of the autonomous planetoidal structure negatively, and amounts to an approximate value of two point eight three five eight percent of total. The Covenant and the Global Vraslir Union will issue no further demands and will not interfere with the activities of the autonomous planetoidal structure and the honoured Concordat.

We trust the honoured Concordat will find these terms agreeable."

As the last words issued from the beast's mechanical interior in their new guise, Evrell undulated sideways with his central body as a sign of approbation, whilst the Vraslil remained mostly immobile, either confident in the answer which would come or impassively expectant.

Kedal and Joren remained impassive while the delegates spoke, but they were rapidly conversing over the network. Joren remained skeptical, as if he was trying to prove something.
"Aurollian activity on Erelvath? I hadn't heard anything about that."
"Why would you have? We hardly have extensive intelligence assets there."
Kedal was liking where the Covenant delegates were heading, and didn't want Joren to ruin it.
"But surely we would have heard something, if not from Erelvath, then from Aurollia."
"And why would they conceivably lie to us?"

Joren was silent after that. He indeed could not think of a motive for the Covenant to deceive them.

And then Xalthil dropped those terms. Those wonderful, perfect terms. A pitance of Renthulium in exchange for military support against the Federation. It was almost too good to be true. Joren was convinced it was, and said as much to Kedal.
"That's bait. It can't possibly be all they want."
"And why not? That's still a substantial amount of Renthulium. Still, perhaps I agree with you to an extent. Certainly not enough to turn them down, but...well, we'll have to keep a careful eye on them."


A soft pinging noise indicated someone on the station wanted to access their conversation. Kedal checked the identitag: Sendema. It must irk her to have to request communication, rather than simply barging in with her overrides. But as ostensible equals in the Star Chamber, Kedal and Joren were immune to such tricks. Kedal waited a moment before accepting the request. Just long enough to remind Sendema they were indeed equals. Kedal might back the 'Harbinger of Tomorrow' in public, but she still didn't care for Sendema's towering arrogance.

"Accept the terms." Sendema said in no uncertain terms.
"Keeping an eye on us I see" Joren replied acerbically.
"Yes. Accept the terms. We can shoot the primitives in the back later if they prove problematic. For now we need everything we can get against the Federation."
Then she was gone.

The translator beast finished recounting Xalthil's words. Kedal forced herself to wait a few moments, as if she hadn't understood the Vraslil's original utterances. Then she clapped her hands together in a mild display of delight. "Swarm-speaker, these terms are quite agreeable to the Concordat. We would happily welcome your aid against the intrusions of the Federation."

The devices concealed in the creature's bowels having completed their translation, the Covenant envoys exchanged another series of gestures and motions, then each proceeded to express their contentment by the means of a bodily oscillation of some sort. Having gone through this seemingly ritualistic performance, Rezthil and Evrell continued to gently sway the one upon his legs, the other on the podium, whilst Xalthil replied once again, the machine superadding its toneless notes to his own chittering speech:

"It is well for us to appreciate that the honoured Concordat has discerning ability as concerns the common positive gain. From my position, the Covenant finds these facts agreeable. Upon our acquisition of relevant strategic information, the armed forces recalled in the stipulation will proceed to neutralising the presence of the Aurolian Federation. A propitious era has been opened for the Covenant and the honoured Concordat."
Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by Sigma
Raw
GM
Avatar of Sigma

Sigma

Member Seen 3 days ago

Collab between @Klomster and @Sigma


Aurolia
Capital City of Tanis
Starport


Large cheering crowds formed around the landing platforms just outside the main building itself, nearly all of them Beauty Power fans traveling across the city to see their ideals in person. In front of the cheering crowds were members of the Tanis Police Force forming their own perimeter, a wide gap between them and the crowds, giving their special guests breathing room once they arrive at the spaceport, all the while, the President had privatly arranged a landing platform to himself, some media crews and members of his cabinet, sans the Defense Secretary, who of course had an important, entirely separate arrangement. The loud roars and cheers filled the air, relieving some of the tension Caulker felt, nonetheless, this was an historical moment, after some time waiting, the President and his entourage had noticed an incoming shuttle, must belong to the Alpha Prime. "Smiles everyone." The President spoke. "Today's the day we make history."

"Let's just pray it goes smoothly, eh?" The Vice President, Teshan Hau said.

The shuttle was lined with silver decor, it was simple, the way the Schäferkin liked their decorations.
Preferring to show craftsmanship instead of decorative plates and surface layers.

The multipurpose shuttle landed and with a hiss and expelling of gasses the doors opened with clouds of smokey water vapours and gasses shrouded the contents within from view.
There was a tense moment, especially when two exceptionally large and well armoured battle-born left the craft. With cold emotionless assault masks and combat armour.
Perfectly mirroring the other's motion before stopping and kneeling some metres in front of the craft, followed by the heavy footfalls of Raghis the second clad in his form fitted Schäferkin power armour, while actually smaller than his guards his presence was far larger.

When he reached his guards he stretched his arms to his sides in front of them. In perfect unison the two removed their masters wrist plasma weapons and placed them on their belts.
With that Raghis II moved forth towards the gathering of Aurolian ruling caste, a few were visibly taken aback by the sheer size of the 8,5 feet tall lord of the Schäferkin whom closed together with his guards, arms still stretched to his side.

-"Finally, we meet at last!" He spoke with kind words. He was nothing like the previous Alpha Prime. He stretched his massive still clawed right hand towards Caulker Juk for the normal human greeting which had managed to spread to all sorts of places.

Keeping his composure, President Juk extended his hand towards the imposing hand of Prime Alpha Raghis II, gripping as hand as he can. "Welcome most honored Prime Alpha to Aurolia." The Preideant said in an almost rehearsed tone, clearly he was practicing for this moment. "The most prized jewel of the Garden Worlds." he followed with an obviously opinionated and bias statement. "We have much to discuss my friend, please, allow us to relocate somewhere more private."

Raghis carefully shook the hand of the president, knowing full well he could easily crush it if not careful.
-"The same to you, honoured president of the federation." Raghis II responded to Caulker, he attempted a smile which wasn't really natural for him, but non-Schäferkin liked it so he tried.

The two battle-born bodyguards forming around the entire procession, only letting in known federation security personnel.

On most of the tv-channels the already legendary handshake between the two leaders had been shown to the entire world. It was the first time since in decades that a Prime Alpha had shook hand or had any sort of meeting on equal terms with another leader.

As the procession moved out of view on one of the more entertainment focused channels, channel "Aurolia 5, entertainment is our duty." the commentator spoke.

-"And after that legendary moment, brought to you live by channel five! We now move over to what i believe most of you have been waiting on! BEAUTY POWER!!!" The commentator was massively hyped up as the screen switched to a lander in the spaceport which now opened to reveal the pop band which had a literal horde of people cheering on them.
Moving along a purpur carpet of honour, security guards made sure the adoring fans didn't charge their idols with adoration.
However, the artists of Beauty power ran around and waved, blew kisses and shook hands with random fans. Even gave out a few discs with their latest album to a few lucky fans, of course with autographs.

Wearing beautiful silken cloth garments in nice colours, nicely covering their bodies and making one guess at what lies beneath.
The fact they are wearing clothes proving they are out to make an impression on their fans, since Schäferkin usually don't wear clothes. With overly fancy haircuts and hairdos, the members were mostly beauty-born, humans would describe three of them as poodles, one a malteser and one actually being a great dane, the group's fantastic bass singer.
All the while with the commentator describing everything in real time with his usual hype.
-"Oh i wish i could be down there and see them in person! They are even bigger than i expected, but you know what that means with Beauty power? That just means more love to go around!"

Following them are two defender-born security guards in protective armour, not actually powered like the soldiers. They were still over 9 feet tall and would not be brought down easily in a fight. But seeing the general mood, a fight seems unlikely.

After some time had long past, the two two groups had found themselves a private room to further discuss their diplomatic future. The President and his entourage found themselves in on corner of a conference table, the Alpha Prime and his escort on the opposite end, President Juk was quick to get the meeting started. "Alpha Prime." The President begun. "I must thank you for this rare opportunity to discuss the future diplomatic relationship between our worlds." He paused for a moment. "I think much can be done as friends and allies."

Raghis sat somewhat uncomfortably on the backless stool provided for him. Seeing most other races didn't take tails into consideration when designing seats, few places apart from Joord had any proper seating arrangements.
Luckily, the federation had been crafty and provided a comfortable option.
-"I felt the way Kalra and most the others were doing it was getting a bit old fashioned. I mean, shouting at a monitor and making demands for an hour is not really how i plan to run my rulership." Raghis responded trying to add a bit of sarcasm most other species seemed to enjoy so much. With mixed success.

-"For one, being in the same room already makes it more of a dialogue than the last hundred years." The Prime went on, it was visible he actually enjoyed studying the federation officials, looking at their clothes, their way of acting, how they moved their ears... which wasn't much.
The classic paranoid hunched posture and constant looking for threats so common for the Schäferkin could be seen on the two battle-born Prime guards, Raghis himself however showed far less of this way of acting. Appearing much calmer and sure about the situation.

It was his duty as Alpha, and most definitely as Prime. To be the source of courage, calm and reason in all situations. Even if terrified, confused or angry.

The President's expression was a positive one, his mandibles lowered, revealing more of his teeth, forming a "smile". "I'm glad we're in agreement." He paused once more, looking to one of his guards, waving his hand, the soldier understood the motion and placed a suit case on the table, flipping it open to reveal a mostly blank document. "Let us take the first step in our worlds growing closer." He slide the document over to the the Prime Alpha, it was part Peace Treaty and Trade Deal, a good first step indeed.

Raghis took the paper and read it closely, he had to strain himself a little because it was so small in his hands. He read it carefully and thoroughly before putting it down.

-"I am uncertain about peace treaties, i do not want to be forced into inaction because of a paper told me so. We Schäferkin have a bad history with papers claiming rulership over our lives." The Prime told with skepticism while still looking at the paper, then he put it down and faced Juk.

-"A trade deal however sounds interesting. We both have things that the others planet has in more abundance than our own. The current small free trade isn't enough to satisfy many of the demands. If bigger ships allowed to trade, this would be solved." Raghis II was still a Prime Alpha, albeit being more open and free-minded than all the previous Primes, he was still Schäferkin.
And Schäferkin was known to be stubborn.

"That is..disappointing." The President said regarding the Alpha Prime's hesitance on the Peace Treaty. "Perhaps one day we may earn your trust in such a matter, perhaps even one day Joord joins the ranks of our federation. But for now, your approval of the Trade Deal is more then enough to be the first stepping stone between our worlds."

Raghis just smirked at the proposition.
-"You have high dreams for your federation president Juk of Aurolia. But alphas should think big, that gives them drive and purpose. Only time will tell if your dream comes true." He went on politely, but for those who read Schäferkin body language well, the way he said it was closer to, yeah dream on.

After that a new deal was written and some of the details of the trade were gone over, what sort of vessels, how much and where and whom were allowed to do it.
Raghis made sure that the Schäferkin were allowed to check and control for contraband with as much authority as possible. While Caulker and his advisors had to but in and make the deal a bit more free, they also knew that this was the first big trade agreement with another nation in Schäferkin history and that they were very paranoid about people being smuggled away from Joord.

In the end, a rather open and fair trade deal was decided upon. While the military searches would be very common, that would mostly be a hassle for the traders themselves. Also if any federation citizen was found to conduct unlawful activities, it was decided that they would be sent to federation courts and sentenced according to federation law.
Much to the dismay of Raghis II.
1x Like Like
Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by Klomster
Raw
Avatar of Klomster

Klomster The man, the myth, the legend.

Member Seen 9 mos ago

The peace talks had been a massive success, with the end of the talks Prime Alpha Raghis II left the surface of Aurolia flanked by his guards in the general purpose vessel he'd arrived in.
The Aurolian government being pleased with the successful trade deal and the populace mostly happy with the unexpected turn of events and others following the massive festival which was provided by 'Beauty Power.
While the band was performing their perhaps biggest hit, 'howl for the Prime.' Raghis himself sat himself into his command throne and began to move out with his fortress.

The massive engines flaring up over the Aurolian sky, tinting the nightfall blue in the spot around it in the sky.
With that the fortress left Aurolian and federation space.

-"Prime Alpha, what is your orders?" The fortresses captain asked.

-"Proceed with plan Öövermackt." Raghis said plainly and commanding while relaxing in the throne without looking at the captain.

-"Öövermackt? Are you sure? The meeting was such a success, are you certain you want..." The battle-born captain asked but was halted by the glare and then voice by Raghis II.

-"The meeting went all according to plan, that plan being Öövermackt. So we are to proceed with the plan.... Or are you disobeying your Prime?!" Raghis raised his voice at the last question which was met with a nearly audible whimper with the captains tail moving between his legs.

-"No great Prime. Your order is my wish." He said while exposing the left side of his throat to Raghis.
The show of submission was sufficient in the eyes of Raghis and he just let out a scoff before averting his gaze to the view screen.

The fortress, known as fortress 2 to the Schäferkin sailed through space towards its destination, but that destination was not Schäferkin space.
It was a former federation colony, a moon mining base known as Tarin.
Hidden 7 yrs ago 7 yrs ago Post by JaceBeleren
Raw
Avatar of JaceBeleren

JaceBeleren Unraveler of Secrets

Member Seen 7 yrs ago

-------------------------------------------------------------------------ENCRYPTED MESSAGE-------------------------------------------------------------------------
REPORT NUMBER:
1

LOCATION:
PAVLIU, TARIN

AUTHOR:
JESSICA VEX

RECIPIENT:
MIRAMA HOYOKO

CONTENTS:
ARRIVAL IN PAVLIU SUCCESSFUL, IDENTITY REMAINS HIDDEN. UNDER FALSE INDENTITY "HANNAH SCOTT", REFUGEE FROM TERRA ILLEGALLY IMMIGRATED TO TARIN, CONSIDERING SUPPORTING AUROLIAN FEDERATION BUT AFRAID OF THE COMMITMENT. ACCOMODATION SECURED IN ADVANCE AS PLANNED, APARTMENT IN MIDDLE LEVELS OF HIGH-RISE BUILDING. 6 MONTHS PAID FOR.

ADDITIONAL SUPPLIES RECIEVED UPON ARRIVAL AT ACCOMODATION. INVENTORY TAKEN.
-TARIN CURRENCY (LARGE SUPPLY)
-MILITARY-GRADE DATAPAD
-PLASTIC POLYMER FOLDABLE SPEAR
-PLASTIC POLYMER FOLDABLE LONGBOW (180LB DRAW STRENGTH)
-20X PLASTIC POLYMER ARROW
-ARMOUR-WEAVED CLOTHING
-ARMOUR-WEAVED TRENCHCOAT WITH CONCEALED QUIVER
-BASIC LIVING SUPPLIES
-FIRST-AID KIT

CONTACT ESTABLISHED WITH BLACK MARKET OPERATIVE "DUKE". REGULAR MEETING LOCATION AND TIME DECIDED UPON.

REPORTS WILL CONTINUE ON A WEEKLY BASIS UNLESS ABNORMAL CIRCUMSTANCES MAKE THIS IMPOSSIBLE OR PROMPT AN IMMEDIATE RESPONSE.

SUMMARY:
SUCCESSFUL DAY ONE.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------MESSAGE TERMINATED-------------------------------------------------------------------------
↑ Top
© 2007-2024
BBCode Cheatsheet