[center][img]https://vgy.me/jwqBLm.png[/img][/center] [hr] [center][img]https://vgy.me/9fEoUl.png[/img] April 19th (Solar Time), 1052 AE (After Earth)[/center] [center]Theme [youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7dI4w_vmZjo[/youtube][/center] Silhouetted in the Red Sun, dots against its vastness formed into black shapes as they moved closer. Dozens, hundreds, moving together like a great cloud on the wind. They were approaching the yellow tan planet, almost beautiful at this distance, particularly the way the yellow gained a tinge of green the closer you reached the poles, speckled with dots or lines of blue. It was no wonder Terersg was so popular. It was a reasonably peaceful world. The inhabitants kept to their work, the fauna were small annoyances at best, and a whole lot of nothing separated one sporadic settlement to another. Two airships were already settling towards the planet, their bows up to begin the descent and deal with reentry into the atmosphere. Their radio chatter was already being monitored. No sighting yet. The advantage with having the sun at your back. It was good, the admiral didn't want some explosion in orbit or a call for help suddenly cut off. He didn't want to ruin the surprise. It wouldn't be long now that the fleet would begin to separate. The plan was easy, blockade the planet, nothing in or out. Then begin the invasion. Concentrate drop ships around the larger settlements. Secure any airship and supplies while on planet side, neutralize the population only if they resist. The xenoes savages they hired should be enough to deal with that, with acceptable causalities. Block transmissions, magical or otherwise, setting up the Essence net was always tricky, the fleet had enough Mystic Class ships. That was the most important. Chances that they would get anything important were pretty slim, hardly enough the warrant the full naval might of two Noble Houses, but the system was useful. It lay between Dominion and Confederate Space, and near the trading routes. The Lunar Confederation lost many ships to the Oblivion Calamity, and they were weak now. The Dominion had a lot of plans for the system, and the longer they had to prepare, the longer they can keep this invasion a secret, the easier the conquest would be in the future. Finally, after 1000 years, mankind will be united once again. The Admiral knew better, the Noble Houses did so love to put a positive spin when it meant they needed the Empress's support. Once the ships were within Terersg space, the fleet separated. The locations they were going to hit were barely a dozen, most of the fleet was intended to keep the blockade, corvettes and destroyer 'hunting packs' spacing out to patrol the upper stratosphere. The Mystic Ships, whose technology is designed to amplify sorcery, and their escorts would have to spread themselves at exact points across the planet. The Ritual would take time, time spent for the rest of the armada to get into position, the mercenaries already descending, their ships growing red hot with the entry of their weight against the atmosphere. They were eager for the spoils, and the admiral already included that into his timelines. He reached for his vox caster, the transmission spread across his armada. [color=silver]"Begin the attack. This day, we declare war on Elysia. This day, we begin our march to unite mankind and take our rightful place as Elysia's overlords. The gods themselves bless our righteous mission. Remember. We are Kings..."[/color] Nearly a million voices call out in response. "The rest is meat! Meat for the Tiger!" [hr] [center][img]https://vgy.me/sDnK80.png[/img] [img]https://i.pinimg.com/564x/45/14/38/45143835f57467dc67fdbe262a122722.jpg[/img] (Max Pooli)[/center] [color=olive][i]"Brothers and sisters! We gather here today for Maintenance Day once again! But today is a truly glorious day, a day unlike all the rest! For Oblivion is dead! We have been spared! The Life Ships have protected us from harm, as they have always done since the Day of Yellow Fire! Rejoice Brothers and Sisters! Let our wrenches sing of our praise! Let the arc-torches shine with our thanks! Show your love with the tightening of each bolt and the sweep of each pile of dust! For today is Maintenance Day!" [/i][/color] [url=https://i.pinimg.com/736x/e0/6c/c5/e06cc52054fd0ac432bc308497180647--fantasy-characters-character-inspiration.jpg]The Seeg[/url] have gathered in the square of Haabin Spaceport, gathering within the shadow of the Husk that is their 'Life Ship', the primary source of water and food that allow for the port to sustain itself on this dry dust ball of a planet. They are so reliant on their Ship, that most of the citizens happen to worship it. Each season they gather for a grand holiday, to clean and upkeep the ships, while also feeding it 'sacrifices' and to wipe and polish every surface to keep it clean. The Seeq turn the whole operation into a city wide celebration, offering sales and putting up decorations, filling the streets with something besides brown yellow sand. However as the diminutive Seeq spread the cheer, it does nothing for the unbearable heat, which most off world species would find insufferable at best, and dangerous at worst. While the holiday fills the streets, the makeshift buildings of scrap, stone, clay, or even other ships provided air conditioning and more off-world comforts. Saloons, inns, conservatories, watering holes, workshops, and other businesses were all open, as places that were preferable to the tent city of markets that were set up around the buildings and grounded ships, with slightly higher prices for the convenience. [hr] On the outskirts of the city, there was a warehouse near the grounded cruiser, known as The Cerberus Gate. It has already relatively quiet compared to the rest of the city, having been there for months, and while its arrival was a big deal, with a whole bunch of activity and teams of crew bartering for supplies, that activity stopped. Whatever the mission was, it was put on hold, perhaps even cancelled entirely. The captain wasn't going anywhere. No one goes on, nothing is sold, and security is still in force. This made the ship little more than an eyesore to the rest of the city. The radio quality is terrible but the technician managed to get a [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vDm3W5ozED4&list=PLUuIKhGqVH_bSqqTsf3zAJM-LMs0MmRRn&index=5]station playing KI75 newest album.[/url] The room itself was barely anything more than a bunch of old radio and transceiver equipment for the antennae jury rigged outside. The stuffy room atop some scaffolding was barely considered an air control tower. Most ships would have to deal with their own de-conflicting airspace, and accidents do happen considering how busy the port was. but no other measure had been put in place. With the Cruiser essentially decommissioned, this place acted as a cheap substitute. They weren't worried about flying, but it was an important, if boring job to monitor the stations, just in case something out of the ordinary would happen. The technician was nursing a tin of what could generously be called coffee flavored with a shot of whiskey. The technician nursed it, gagging with each sip. They didn't have any milk or sugar left to undo the taste of the tar colored liquid, but it would do. It was his shift in 'the hot box' and he hoped being a little drunk with a couple of old magazines and the radio would be enough to distract him from the heat. He casually turned on each station, just a little bit so he could hear the static of KI75 singing in the back ground. He then sat back, placed his boots on the desk, and started his shift. [i]"There should be some room over there..." "Landing gear's still not working-" "Did you hear the one about-"[/i] Just endless chatter, alot of it supposed to be on secret channels, but there was some expensive bit of tech in that antennae. [i]"-Getting sick of those-" "-The trail comes here, he has to be -" "MAYDAY! MAYDAY! this is-" "-what are you wearing sweethea-" "-THERE'S HUNDREDS OF-" "Just a jumpsss-" "MAYDAAAAHH-"[/i] The radio cuts out on that station abruptly with a chirp. This definitely got the technician's attention. He leans in to get the channel again, only to hear nothing but static. He leans towards a nearby computer panel, turning it on and waits for the old dusty monitor to boot up. Before it does so, the technician notices something outside the window. He sees several bright yellow streaks falling into the atmosphere against the pale purple blue sky that separates the cloudless expanse. More and more break through the sky, as the technician looses count after twenty. This can't be a mere trading convoy. Slowly, the realization falls over him. He drops his tin, turning and nearly tripping over the chair as he struggles to reach the nearest vox to sound the alarm. Behind him, the computer turns on, as the old tech radar pings to show the green blips that congregate at the top of the screen, slowly filling it as it makes its way down the screen. [hr] Meanwhile, the activity of Maintenance Day is disturbed by the cut in of a speeder car that nearly flattens a crowd. The public begins to rattle in argument and shouting, with some people trying to run at breakneck speeds through the gatherings. It's a slow notice, there are a significant group of people in town, braving the heat and moving with great purpose. Almost as if they were late and had a deadline long past due, or that there's some imminent emergency that needed to be prevented or prepared for. A particularly eagle eyed observer would notice that a lot of these rushing individuals had several things in common. The species, their uniforms, none of them were Seeq and most of them were carrying large bags filled with various belongings, alot of them not properly strapped down in their haste. Something was happening.