So full disclosure, I've been reading an interesting book- 1632- about not one person being sent through time to the year 1632, but the whole town. People, buildings and farm animals all. The local union rep is elected president, the 'nam Veteran hunter is made head of the army, and the interactions between "Uptimers" and "Downtimers" are the source of crazy fun and intrigues.
So. Got me thinking.
What would an Isekai look like if it involved not one heroic individual being thrown into a fantasy-land, but the whole small town around them? A fantasy land with war, magic, a Dark Lord (Tm) and fantastic races.
And would there be significant interest in a shared telling of this story?
If you're looking to get in on this, please post below and I'll flesh this thought out further.
Rolvius III The Overlook Lodge 29:34 Since Foreign Incursion
Prime Speaker Varous Vannifar arrived on Rolvius 3 late in the night. Ongoing discussions of fleet deployments with Ministress Kiora had taken more time than she wanted to admit. For a Star Nation with a negligible fleet presence there was a degree of micromanagement involved with the navy that beggared belief. Two battlegroups were in orbit above Rolvius itself, a third was on its way to Manir, and the Fourth Battlegroup was escorting the Gaea on its shakedown cruise in the Territhan Nebula.
The hotel bar was not the place she imagined herself setting up shop upon first arriving, but a harried-looking Minister Ran was nursing a bottle of whiskey while his aides were hashing out something or other over fried vegetables and sugar-caf.
"Mind if I jump in on this?" Vannifar didn't wait for Ran's answer, taking a glass from behind the bar and pouring herself two fingers of the amber liquid.
Ran didn't raise any objections, just stared into his glass. "If it's all the same to you, I'd rather you take the whole thing over. I've done nothing more than act as a glorified concierge since getting here and I haven't been this miserable since I was a boy back on the orchard with my clan."
"Mmm, about that," Vannifar paused, sipping on the liquid. "I'm going to need you to stay on site. We've got two esteemed guests already and we may have more in the future. The very near future. And I've got enough on my plate with the Lokoid."
"Don't pull my leg like that. The Lokoid are happy as clams, like the Terrans say." Vannifar made a face, but Ran only doubled down. "The Lokoid spent the day picking wild berries while we got everything set up. Olliana, by comparison, hunted a Charashar for sport. Brought back a buck with twelve-point-scale plates."
"Here's to her skill with an anti-matter rifle." Vannifar took a long swallow of whiskey.
"She used a spear."
Prime Speaker Varous Vannifar had never before sprayed whiskey through her nostrils. There was a first time for everything.
"You're shitting me! You can't hunt Charashar without heavy energy weaponry. They're bred for population control of Ythorna Grazers. The plates are thick enough to deflect flechettes and kinetics!"
"Well, we didn't account for Asrian training, the death of her brother the Prince, and a personality with all the subtlety and determination of a bull Ranasha with steel-tipped horns. She brought the head back into the lobby and demanded that it be cleaned and delivered to her."
"And? Was it?"
"I had to send the army to collect the hotel taxidermist from a vacation instead of leaving it to the apprentice. He's being shipped back from Rolvius II on military transport. The head is in the meat freezer, locked up so the Lokoid won't assume it's a delicacy and chow down on it."
"Right. Well, how would you like to handle this mess?"
"Is any more of the cabinet coming up here?"
"Only if necessary. And Lyra is staying on Rolvius Prime as the acting PS. Anything we propose here has to be approved by her. I don't know if Asrian Psychic abilities might sway minds, but they can't affect her from so many thousands of kilometers away."
Ran nodded, putting the stopper back in the bottle. "A good precaution."
"Kiora suggested it. Seemed prudent at the time, all things considered. So who do you want to take? The Lokoid?"
"It's my area of expertise. Counting credits is a male's place, after all. The Lokoid know we were in a hard position before the galaxy started to lose its mind. Now that the Federation and Commonwealth are withdrawing from Detente they know we can't get to a war footing without a substantial industrial backer behind us. I negotiated the shipbuilding contracts on Mezla- it'll take a solid month for a wartime destroyer to be launched from our berths and we'll be a tributary of a foreign power by then. Or dead. No one in the galaxy wants to put a single boot on our planets or risk our launching an Invasive Species attack. Not after what we unleashed on the Manir occupation. Hells, single fertile Tyranatar Queen loose in the wild could strip an entire continent bare of wildlife and vegetation within months. But they can always go around us. Even the threat of Lokoid industrial power helping us would make the galaxy sit up and take notice. We could see our fleet size doubled in no time flat."
"Just absorb what the Lokoid throw at you, and make sure to deflect. Don't make commitments right away, say you need to review the numbers with the Parliamentary Trade Commission. I know there's no such thing, but you know what I mean. The minute we put ink on parchment the whole peace could collapse."
"Prime Speaker, I'm wounded. You act like I've never negotiated trade contracts before."
"I know you have. But those contracts falling through wouldn't lead to trillions of dead. As for Olliana... I'll see what I can do."
"She just wants the dig site on Manir. Can we give her access? Call it a day and defuse the situation?"
"They 'just wanted the dig site' in the last war. And our best estimate is that they murdered one-hundred-million Rolvians to get to it. And if they find the key to Agdemnar's shield inside Manir, then who knows what they might unleash? I am not letting those monsters anywhere near that site again."
"So what do you plan to do about a raging psychic warrior princess who killed our alpha predator on the first day of her arrival?"
Vannifar had considered that for a long time on her journey to Rolvius III. There were many options to consider- the standard diplomatic path of offers, counter offers, fine print, and arguing. That struck her as definitively not Olliana's style and likely to piss her off and provoke Her Highness to rash action.
Which left one option, in her mind.
--- --- ---
The morning after, the Lodge of Princess Olliana was awakened by the arrival of a three vehicle convoy carrying a party of twelve individuals.
Seven of them in common dark suits set up a wide-range security perimeter roughly a hundred meters from the entrance to the lodge, their sub-machine flechette launchers on the lookout for unwelcome visitors and wildlife.
Four of them unpacked the chests from the transports, setting up a small campsite and making all manner of racket and smoke, opening a portable stove and food preparation station while laying out a table and two chairs.
The twelfth, Prime Speaker Vannifar, in her best outerwear for the climate, approached the lodge and introduced herself to the Princess' Asrian security detail.
"Her Majesty is welcome to breakfast this morning with myself. Fried proteins, grain paste with berries, juices, and Terran coffee are on the menu. And please advise her I am prepared to discuss the reason for her visit..."
"There are decades where nothing happens. And there are weeks when decades happen."
The nation of Grozny is at a crossroads. The War of the Crowns ended fifteen years ago with their monarch dead of a heart attack before he could claim rulership of his neighbors and no heir to the throne. With the signing of the Peace with Honor, soldiers across the continent removed their helmets, turned in their rifles, and returned to civilian life. The nation of Grozny began a transition away from Absolute Monarchy and aristocracy into a democracy.
But the people of Grozny have found that their experiment with democracy is fighting for its life against modern challenges.
In the Western Cities, Syndicalists are organizing the abused workers of the factories to demand a more Just society, one that does not demand that the common man be a serf to the factory bosses. The slogan of the Syndicalists, "A twelve hour day for a pittance pay? No Way!" is written in the corners of many pubs and factory floors. Their leadership prepares to call for general strikes to force the central government to answer their grievances.
In the Southlands, the old Aristocrats gather in their palaces and parlors, trying to use their land and wealth to restore themselves to power, to crown one of their own as the King or Queen of Grozny. In their eyes, the Democratic Experiment has failed. They seek to return to the era of paternal rule over Grozny and the re-institution of serfdom among the lower classes via an alliance with Grozny Corporations.
In the Eastern farmlands, the Church of the Sun has answered the call to minister to those suffering from prolonged drought and hardship. A charismatic Arch-Prelate is preaching that the hardships of Grozny are the result of immorality and sin. The good folk of the earth must come together in the light of the Sun Church to create a pure society- and the rest of the nation must see the light. Perhaps even by force.
It's in the north coast, in the capital of Centralia, where the power of the Democratic Government is still assured. But how long until these factions are able to force their way into the halls of power in the upcoming election, and reshape Grozny into a paradise for themselves and a nightmare for all others? The Prime Minister struggles daily with her Soldiers of Democracy to answer the needs of the people and prevent these radicals from strangling democracy in its cradle. Can she succeed before the house of cards collapses?
That's what you're on your way to find out. Your newspaper, magazine, or radio station has dispatched you by plane, train, and automobile to the Grand Grozny Hotel. It's a good gig, but aside from reporting back home, your column will be printed in a local Grozny publication or broadcast on the public airwaves. As plots and counterplots unravel, it may very well fall to the Fourth Estate to decide the fate of the nation...
---
Hello, and welcome to an IC!
This is a pretty bare-bones check, but I wanted to see if there was interest in writing a... very different story. I've been reading Berlin Diary by William Shirer after having it recommended to me by a friend and I'm genuinely shocked by how much it says in so few words about then-current events in 1930s Europe from the PoV of a reporter for CBS Radio.
Basically, the writers in this RP will play reporters in the nation of Grozny, based out of a major hotel, writing specific stories for readers back home and those within Grozny. You are trying to influence the factions within Grozny for the upcoming elections, either boosting one or reducing another.
The plot will advance with an event. The event will be bare bones, "Just the facts, ma'am." Writers may ask three questions about the event, the circumstances around it, or what particular people think about it- in the OOC. The IC will hold the stories your characters write for the general public or any other notes you might like (if your reporter keeps a private diary and wants to add content as fluff, that's fine with me).
On Friday the 23rd of May, the Minister of Foreign Affairs' car had its tires stolen while parked outside its office.
1.) Was there a significant public event happening during this time? Yes. A brewing festival was being held that day. Roughly 5,000 people were in attendance.
2.) When my reporter has breakfast that morning, what does my waitress think of this news? She finds it funny and assumes that the tires were stolen by hooligans playing a prank. She makes a snide comment that he should take public transportation until he can pay for the tires.
3.) What does the Arch-Prelate think of this news? The Arch-Prelate plans to give a sermon denouncing the thievery and immorality rife in the cities. He runs a few lines of the sermon by you and it's shocking how fevered and angry they sound when delivered on the spot, but when you write them down the genuine malice in his voice doesn't come through.
This RP has a beginning, middle, and an end. Based on the stories you write and the intended audience, I'll adjust the flow of events accordingly and we'll see what happens together.
This RP has room for collaboration and expansion of the world. Feel free to make up a background nation for your character, their publication, and other pertinent information. Feel free to expand on the nation of Grozny beyond what has been presented here. Feel free to propose another faction beyond the three posted here, or even a sub-faction that may have goals of its own.
This RP will have one major rule in addition to the others on this site, and it will be No Modern Politics. This is an exercise in group storytelling. Not a Forum for posting arguments about political preferences. As far as I'm concerned, your reporters may be working toward different goals, but you all drink at the same hotel bar after you send your stories off for publication. Writing for a group or publication that advocates for what could be considered "Hate Speech" (against a particular sex, ethnicity, orientation, etc.) will not be permitted.
Any further thoughts, proposals, or questions are welcome.
Speaking for those who have neither the time nor the skill to learn advanced or basic physics and the math involved therein (ok, speaking for myself, since no one else here is as science dumb as me), I’ll just say this:
“Can we please get back to using space magic and super nukes in the imaginary sandbox and ask the GMs nicely when we have a problem?”
Malarayan Hills Rolvius III (Third Moon to Rolvius Primary) Overlook Resort
Minister Roalesk Ran had once had to organize a wedding with twelve days notice. His daughter was betrothed in a love match and her other half was due to ship out with the Rolvian Navy to join in the reconstruction efforts on one of the outer moons of Yeral II. A major Corporate Alliance Speaker's daughter did not merely elope without any sort of fanfare- it reflected poorly on the family name and bank accounts. The caterers, the booking, the music, the entertainment, the guest accomodations and the reporter pools nearly drove him into a nervous breakdown, even with three assistants at his beck and call.
Organizing the largest impromptu diplomatic summit since the Treaty of Detente was signed with barely five hours notice was significantly easier, he found. Especially when one had the backing of the Military to make people get out of the way.
Two brigades of "Peacers" with Uulaka mounts, and a considerable number of Green Agents had descended on the Overlook Resort within three hours in a frantic invasion. Fortunately the resort was in its slow season, so only a dozen individuals had to be ejected off the premises, but the staff was being checked, re-checked, and in some cases of politically questionable opinions, given the boot to be replaced with Army staff.
As Minister of Trade, Roalesk had plenty of business dealing with facts, figures, and foreign star nations. There was no "Minister of Foreign Affairs" or similar position. Not yet, at least. Rolvians had enjoyed being shielded by the Ashtar and allowed to grow to their own fruition. But now, he was being asked to fill that role more and more. And he wasn't sure if he was ready.
Case in point, the Overlook Lodge had many amenities for rich, foreign tourists coming to hunt exotic game or recover from Rolvian medical operations and gene treatments. Spa. Highly rated restaurants. Pool (both indoor and an open lake). Hot springs. Even a craft workshop for those who found working with wood and leather to be a fun diversion. What it lacked- still- was a formal landing pad.
Oh, it had a landing zone. There was a formcrete tower with secure com systems. But the actual landing zone was a cut field with marker lights. It lent something to the rustic charm of the place, but by the Gaea it looked backwards as Hells for a diplomatic summit.
His Uulaka's four eyes were fixed on a herd of Chalratha off to the west of the landing field, grazing lazily while their matriarch's long neck was extended, watching the guards and the docile Uulaka mounts they rode. Uulaka were gengineered to be docile in the presence of their riders and other Rolvians, to obey commands. But out in the wild, four eyes, claws, and venom would reduce a two-ton Chalratha to so much mincemeat in a matter of time.
Wouldn't that be a show for one of the arrivals? Of course we're a great and strong Star Nation! We would like to speak to you about matters of intergalactic peace and security. Right this way! Please mind the corpse though...
Well, let's see who I have to entertain first. The sooner Vannifar gets here, the better.
---
The Executive Branch Bough Rolvius 22:34 Since Foreign Fleet Arrival in Rolvian Space
Vannifar stood at her desk, unable to bring herself to sit at this hour. Sunset was approaching through the Executive Branch's foliage and streamed through a dozen projected screens of news analysts, talking heads, and government broadcasts- all set on mute. She had long since changed out of her formal-wear and had donned what her staff called "executive loungewear" while sorting through deployments, force call ups, and literally dozens of diplomatic communiques in foreign capitals that she needed to oversee, review, or write personally.
This was, in no uncertain terms, an unmitigated disaster. Two foreign flotillas were now inside Rolvian Space, approaching the capital world's third moon at Vannifar's invitation- and it was patently clear that if she tried to stop them then the Rolvian Navy would get rolled without the support of local strike craft fleets. She no longer had to worry about a re-election campaign because, if something went wrong here, there wouldn't be enough Rolvians left to run a campaign for. They were still digging up bodies on Manir from the Great War. Individual Rolvians on Manir were calling themselves up in militia networks and preparing to fight off an inevitable invasion. The Ashtar "tomb" was still under firm government control, but if tempers didn't calm down soon, there would be a confrontation between the reactionaries seeking to seize the dig site and the government forces protecting the site- and her geonuclear option.
As if that wasn't bad enough, the diplomatic networks were reporting that the Federation's 12th Fleet was amassing at the borders for "war games". The Chancellor of the Federation was definitely aware of what was happening here in Manir, and the withdrawal from the Detente treaty came as a genuine shock to Vannifar. But the reality of the unraveling galactic peace was overpowering the old forces that put the treaty in place to begin with. Without the Ashtar around to oversee the peace, there was no guarantee of Rolvian sovereignty.
She desperately needed a drink, a shower, and a shuttle to the Overlook Lodge, but the mobilization of military assets and readiness checks of the Strike Groups was necessary. The Superdreadnought Gaea was en route to Rolvius from Mezla, accompanied by the Fifth Fleet escort elements. The Rolvian Starfleet was small by every measure, but they still had one Big Stick to show off to the Asrians and she'd be damned if they weren't aware that the Rolvians could roll out a ship of that tonnage like they could.
Then there was the Federation to consider in this ever growing web...
@Taeryn Let's not mince words here- I don't have time for diplomatic niceties. The situation in Rolvius is changing rapidly. You can link up to any of our media networks and see that I have the Lokoids and Asrians within my borders, unannounced and uninvited. It's only by the grace of Gaea that the Asrians are moving to our third moon now for a diplomatic summit, rather than straight to Manir to take what they wish and damn the consequences.
Any military vessels the Federation sends to our territory will be entering a dangerous situation. I will allow your forces to enter Manir orbit and make contact with Neuveau York's settlers and begin their investigation with Morgan's crew, and to examine the wreckage of the Federation cruiser Triton in orbit. I will ask the Admiralty what escorts can be provided, but inform your personnel that they can expect to be accompanied by a number of Corvettes and nothing more.
Your warning of the Federation Wargames is appreciated, but know that any mis-step from the Federation military may set something in motion which cannot be undone. Our old obligations for the restoration of Terra have tied our people together since Detente was signed. I would perhaps be interested in pursuing closer, more formal relations if the Federation Fleet is able to navigate this delicate situation without incident.
Prime Speaker's Office Rolvius 0:34 Since Foreign Fleet Arrival
The Prime Speaker's office was usually a modest mess of activity, with staffers, bureaucrats, interns and Ministresses coming and going at speed or providing needed updates. At the moment, Vannifar had closed herself off from the needs of her cabinet and staffs. Thirty minutes of peace. That was all she asked for, but the sounds of people being turned away outside the Speakers Bough made it seem like there was a small mob waiting to return to business as usual.
First and most important was the Commonwealth. The use of courier ships was expensive and, sooner or later, an investigative reporter in either their jurisdiction or Rolvius would begin asking questions why such-and-such's intern's betrothed was making expensive, unannounced trips to Foreign Capitals. Then the proverbial shit would hit the fan across the news networks- the coverup of the two notes would be worse than their "crime". This would have to go through the official channels and prepare the groundwork for her campaign to hold on to power.
@Ozerath, I am writing this message to inform you that the Commonwealth's Ambassador to Rolvian Space, Ambassador Tarkovsky, has been found to be unfit for his duties in the eyes of this Government. The Branch of Justice has concluded an independent review of his contributions to several Speakers campaigning for office, and we have found a disturbing pattern among his activities of favoring candidates of a particular political party. Be it known that Ambassador Tarakovsky has Eight Rolvian Rotations to remove himself, his family, and his personal effects from our space and to make room for his successor.
~ Signed and Sealed, Prime Speaker Vannifar
It didn't spell out that this was in direct reply to the message sent, but Metternich was a smart cookie. There'd been no problems with Tarakovsky's behavior that she'd voiced, but they had been found getting too chummy with the Naturalist Genome Front. The NGF wasn't a major player in the elections, so it posed little threat in the grand balance, and it gave Vannifar some anti-corruption credibility with those who weren't as concerned with flexing muscle against foreign adversaries.
Plus the bumper crop from Manir was coming in. Prices were dropping at a steady rate and Treasury was warning they needed to dump the food ASAP or enjoy a full crash. Lucky for Treasury, Vannifar had a buyer lined up in the Commonwealth The contracts for grain shipments were already being floated to the Praetorian Exchange. Initial bites were slow, but Vannifar assumed it was a matter of time before Metternich got his cartels and colonies to buy, buy, buy.
Then came the matter of the Federation.
@Taeryn My Abassador has forwarded their cables to my attention and I feel it is necessary for me to intercede on these matters briefly.
First, let us not mince words. The intern wounded by the Tigers was at fault, not the animals. I understand that they were at one time an apex predator, and if she was unable to hold that in her mind and was too focused on their fur and feline behavior, that was her fault. The tigers will be delivered to Terra within the month aboard the R.S.S. Fortunala. I have been assured by the genetic engineers that genome randomization will continue for several generations, allowing these two specimens to provide viable offspring without danger of detrimental effects from inbreeding for two generations. If the pair prove to be healthy and hale for several years, we can begin cloning a viable population to ensure their spread. On a side note, do please let me know if the Elephant population continues to boom. I found those creatures particularly endearing.
Captain Morgan and his crew. They are currently enjoying some civil protections on Manir and have established a settlement of Neuveau York. They are not full citizens of Rolvius, however. I will not pack them all up and ship them to Federation space. But I have no issue with your Justice Officials to bring their investigation to Manir. Warships will not be welcome above Manir, but I will see to it that your personnel receive all necessary immunizations and genetic markers to prevent wildlife attacks while they conduct interviews and review the wreckage in orbit.
Doctor Foia's disappearance concerns me on a personal level. Maya is a recently incorporated colony, from what I understand. If Federation control hasn't fully extended there, that is understandable. But the safety of my citizens is of the foremost concern to me. The Amazon project is going to require dozens of specialists with no security training be present on Terra. I fully intend for that project to continue with your blessing, but understand- the Rolvian government is monitoring this situation closely. It is my hope that she will be found alive. And quickly.
~ Signed and Sealed, Prime Speaker Vannifar
The Federation was a tightrope and a half. They hadn't set foot in Rolvian Space beyond escorting shipping cartels and providing humanitarian support. They hadn't gone so far as to fire broadsides with Rolvian ships against the occupiers, but there was good blood between them. Still, the situation in Maya was concerning. If a single, high profile Geneticist vanished while on a humanitarian mission, what might be bubbling beneath the surface for their larger projects on the horizon?
Then came the two with the most weight, the most consequence, the most to lose and gain from.
@Liotrent The Star Republic returns its respect to you, Hierarch of the Lokoid.
We find your Supreme Hierarch's suggestion of direct discussion amenable and support it entirely, though we had hoped to have more time to prepare a proper welcome for your arrival. There have been some complications with this arrangement, however. Representatives of the Asrian Ascendancy have arrived in our territory with warships as well. To prevent the potential of an unnecessary escalation, we are asking that you prepare to dock on Rolvus 3, the larger of our lunar bodies. A suitable representative of the Republic will be on site to begin talks immediately.
~ Signed and Sealed, Prime Speaker Vannifar
@Sierra I extend my salutations on behalf of all citizens of the Republic, and the gratitude of the people of Manir for this generous offer. We are a proud but not unreasonable people. Any offers of construction or restoration assistance may be sent through the appropriate channels to my Minister of Trade, Raolesk. I trust him to review the facts and figures of what you have to offer to the people of Manir.
The presence of a foreign fleet in the skies above Manir at this time is a dangerous proposition for us to entertain. While I have no illusions about our capability to fight off the fleets of the the Empress, by the time this missive reaches you it will be public knowledge on all of our news networks that the belligerents of the Great War are converging not just on Agdemnar, but also in Rolvian Space. Lokoid Ambassadors with a guardian battlegroup and a member of the Asrian Royal Family has arrived in space with a Battlecruiser escort. In short, the situation here is becoming a powderkeg. Our armed forces stand at full alert at this time. If you plan to send a representative to Rolvian space, it is to your benefit to be aware of this precarious situation...
~ Signed and Sealed, Prime Speaker Vannifar
With all of these notices sent via the secure com networks, Vannifar stood from her desk, opened the door to her office, marched through a throng of interns and bureaucrats, and loudly called for a full council be called in the next three hours and a bottle of Terran bourbon with ice.
---
The Executive Branch Bough Rolvius 3:34 Since Foreign Fleet Arrival in Rolvian Space
Speaker Vannifar strode out to the upper boughs of the Executive Branch, the sunlight of Rolvius Prime in cascading through the heavy leaves up above the platform. For the first time in local weeks, near the entire cabinet was assembled in the same place at the same time- barring one significant absence.
Ministresses Multana and Thrun stuck together, thick as thieves, firmly in their Manir Solidarity corner. The two most dangerous members of the cabinet at the moment- if they gave the signal, the Manir faction could up and leave, join the opposition, and the government would topple, raising the Reactionaries to power. Fortunately, the two of them were still in Vannifar's pocket. They seemed to be enjoying the profits coming their way from managing the reconstruction efforts on Manir. Their clothing and jewelry showed they definitely weren't left wanting.
Ministress Rayne, head of the Treasury, was rubbing elbows with Defense Ministress Kiora, both of them trying their best to look disinterested in the business of state while chatting over a shared love of the show Will It Splice? Brain drivel on the holonetworks, but Vannifar couldn't fault them for having their own
"Alright, let's bring this to order and get down to business. We've got a secure line to Nok up on Three but I'm not sure how our encryption holds with modern Asrian Battlecruisers and Battleships in the void above, so watch your mouths. Defense, how are we looking?"
Kiora brushed a lock of blue-brown hair behind her ear and opened her tech-pad, prompting the others' at the table to open a display.
"First, Second, and Third Flotillas are at ready condition Yellow. Converging on Rolvius at the moment. Civil Defense on Manir is mobilizing, but we have no signs of invasion hyper-prints at this time. Admiral Giana is in contact with our arrivals and directing them toward Rolvius 3 for parley. The Ashtar ruins are secure and Mass Extinction Protocol is on the table."
"Wait, we're entertaining that option?" The hologram of Roalesk Ran, Minister of Trade, flickered briefly, but his deep frown could cut through any static.
"All options are on the table, Roalesk. If everyone wants the toy and is willing to touch off another Great War for it, it may be best that no one gets it. This might at least force them to sit at the table and talk about this like reasonable adults instead of kicking off another campaign that will kill millions of our people."
"'Reasonable adults?' You've never met Lady Olliana have you? Her Solstice Gifts might as well be mail bombs! But let's back up here- how are we sure that triggering the Operation it won't be localized? What if it cracks the planet? The Asrians never breached the lower levels of the facility. We don't know what's down there! It could be a private art hall, or it could be an inert Ashtar Reactor!"
Why do you think I nicknamed ageonuclear detonation "Operation Mass Extinction", Ran?
"I'm aware of the dangers. But we can't sustain another full blown Campaign for Manir, even with the Gaea operational. We're weeks away from an election, we have multiple star nations now traipsing around in our borders - one friend, one foe - and there's active shooting on Agdemnar. It's an undeclared war right now, but if someone gets kicked in the testes too hard, it will go hot, and quickly. If anyone thinks it'll be just fine to open a second front in our space, there's not much we can do to stop it unless they come in range of Rolvius or Mezla. We've got enough orbital defenses and Strike Craft to blow anyone to smithereens, but no ability to project power into the void beyond the Gaea- and we all know what that was built for. We need to have an option to shoot the hostage this time. So yes, Operation Mass Extinctionis on the table. The end."
Minister Ran offered no further objections, but Vannifar could tell he was less than thrilled.
"Now, for our unexpected arrivals. Ran, I've directed the Green Agency to secure the Overlook Resort in the Marayan Hills. It's the best and most defensible location for our high profile guests. Rustic, but plenty of space and it's approved for off-worlder tourism. If they want a royal suite or a hunter's lodge, arrange it. Make the visitors comfortable. Extend every courtesy. Let them know that I'll be making a trip to hold negotiations in person once I've got everything squared away down here."
There was no waiting for an acknowledgement. Ran was aware of the defensive implications and military options. He would be able to make informed decisions from there until Vannifar could make the trip. But his pained expression might as well have spoken for him. 'Don't leave me with these people for too long.'
"Now. The Lokoids, Alduur, and my damned pet cronach all want to forge a military alliance while there's smoke coming from the engine room. Let's talk strategy..."
The Garden of Ages Prime Speaker's Branch Republic of Rolvius Rolvius, Landing City 19:22 Local Time
The Garden of Ages, they called it. Back in the ancient days of the "Republic" when the Queens established their new homeworld with the aid of the Ashtar, it was seen as a revolutionary idea, that one could grow, rather than build a skyscraper. Most government buildings were just that, buildings. Artificial constructs. But the Queens had agreed that a symbol was necessary. The Homeworld was gone. Its atmosphere was acid, its skies trapped heat like a planetary greenhouse. Only self-contained colonies maintained any living presence on its dry, dead surface- colonies that held convicts, religious fanatics, and scientific teams working to return the planet to the hands of the living. Their task was a failed one. Most studies indicated a concentrated terraforming effort would require centuries to return it to habitability. And even if it was undertaken, there was little to be gained from restoring a dead past.
There was no going back, only forward. And forward required significant planning and a mind to the future. A sustainability. A requirement that, in this modern era, one must live with nature rather than master it.
The Garden of Ages, they called it. When the seed was designed in a lab, its genetics manipulated to meet their needs. The bark engineered to resist lightning strikes and high winds. The interior branches hollowed out as it grew higher to create great chambers and space for offices. The roots went deep, anchoring it into the earth as proof against earthquakes. The sap acted as a fire suppression system. They still had to pipe in water mist to keep it cool in the summer- there was no amount of genetic know-how that could simulate air cooling.
And its upper branches water cooling branches were absolutely shit, Prime Speaker Vannifar thought as she leaned against the table jutting out of the Executive Branch. The view was to die for, looking down at the skyscrapers and neighborhoods of Landing going about their day, riding on transport beasts through the city, traveling from building to building on the Arachno-webbing networks. The bureaucracy of the Republic hard at work, living, loving, and longing for a better tomorrow. She could relate. But her tomorrow required that she crush more than a few dreams to make sure she lived to see it.
"Any new numbers from the polling offices," she asked, still leaning over the edge of the platform, watching as a train of Arachnites skittered along the webbing between the High Trade Center and the Industrial Management Department.
Arianas, her party's campaign chairwoman, paused from taking a drink and reached for a datapad "Nothing yet for the big locations. Internal numbers are solid ever since you secured the nomination. The base is motivated."
"I'm not worried about the base. They know to vote for me or the Nationalists will eat them alive." Vannifar decided she'd had enough of the view over the balcony, striding back toward the cabinet table- the one without a cabinet seated at it. Just her closest political confidant. "What about Manir? I can't win re-election without carrying the reconstruction colonies there. Any movement from them?"
"There is, but it's not good." Arianas only paused to finish her drink pulling up a spreadsheet on the tablet and sliding it toward Vannifar across the table. "I'm tracking significant headwinds on Manir for the Nationalists. Upwards of 60% of those surveyed say they feel the reconstruction efforts are too slow. And more than 70% say the occupiers should be contributing more."
"They can say what they want. Without the Ashtar to force them to the table, the other nations can tell us to eat shit and die. And we can't do anything about it."
"Not according to Zagara. She's proposing a blanket food blockade."
Vannifar nearly choked- and she wasn't drinking like Arianas. A blanket blockade? What she was proposing was nothing short of an artificial famine that could hit multiple nations, whole industrial planets. Millions dead if it was sustained. To say nothing of the military ramifications of multiple star nations coming to take the grain in the silos that they so badly needed.
"She's lost her brain. Her genes are completely scrambled."
"Maybe," Arianas said, tapping the table. "Or maybe she's tapping into something. We have a negligible presence on Agdemnar. The other powers are throwing artillery and air strikes and system strike forces at one another. We have an archaeological dig team. And what, one division to protect them while we dig up rocks?"
To protect the nesting grounds. There were some things even Arianas wasn't privy to. Most of it involving state secrets. She didn't need to know that the "dig site" was also sitting atop a massive cave network. One teeming with currently docile Arnolith Queens, laying eggs by the dozens every day while the security personnel were prepping the hatchlings. The only thing worse for a soldier in the trenches of Agdemnar was an attack from below, as Arnolith attack drones erupted from his feet.
The plan was weeks, months from even approaching viability. But politics wasn't always a game to be played by the patient. Vannifar needed action soon to hold on to the Speakership.
"Arianas. I need you to get a private courier ship. Prep the engine, I'll give you the coordinates. And get someone you trust absolutely but will not make the newsfeed if they go to foreign space. I'll need you to deliver something to someone very important. And it cannot fall into the hands of the public."
Arianas, seeing her Speaker's face taking on a more and more somber tone, nodded, rose from her seat, and activated her personal com unit.
"I'll make a few calls, see who's available, and get it done. What are we doing?"
Vannifar took a moment to sit in the Speaker's Chair, old, warped, but a living relic. Thirty-seven Prime Speakers had held it before her. Thirty-six women and one man, guiding the hands and hearts of the Republic's people. History recorded most of them as some form of sinner or saint. She didn't know if what she was about to write would put her in the first or second category. But she hoped it would save her from being dragged into the first unwillingly.
@Ozerath I am writing to you directly because local political forces are going to push my hand. In short, the government of the Republic is going to be toppled within a short amount of time if I do not take action seen as "tough" toward one of the Belligerents in the Great War. You and I both know that the Commonwealth's involvement in the Manir occupation was negligible at best, and the Reparations of the Great Peace are not my foremost concern. Money was never important. Continued trade in manufactured goods is. We have a working relationship and an understanding of what is important to the future of our respective peoples. But Speaker Zagara is now running on a platform of full blockade against the Commonwealth, initiated from her first day as head of the Republic.
Normally I'd be hesitant to put any stock in such a promise, but my sources tell me she very much believes this will force the Republic to increase payments for the War Reparations.
In short, I need to take bad action now to avoid catastrophic action later. In roughly two weeks time, I will announce a "temporary quarantine" of food shipments to the colonies for genetic irregularities in the makeup of the grain. It's a fig leaf. I know it. You know it. The food is safe and I'll provide our internal test records if you want them. In the lead up to that day, your markets will notice a heavy increase in options for food shipping contracts to the outer colonies of the Commonwealth. I will ensure that they are no-bid contracts, and we will honor any price cuts up to 20% to make this period more palatable for your citizens.
The quarantine will last until the end of the election, the regulators will quietly release the shipments, and they will proceed with all haste to Commonwealth territory. And this will all be put behind us.
Please send any concerns, questions, or alternatives to my associate Ambassador Tovin. I appointed the man and trust him to securely return any communications to me.
@Ozerath July Fourth itself is a national holiday. People take advantage to go on vacations for long weekends- like myself. It may be prudent to post the IC, then allow people to post their in media res intro posts at their leisure, then formally start the "post or you're dead" clock on Monday.
The Rolvan Granary (laconic), the Tree-Hugger Republic (prejorative)
General Information
The Star Republic of Rolvius is considered a Minor Power by most Star Nations. Their nation is one that wields power throughout the galaxy via trade, as they provide multiple industrial worlds with the daily rations needed to keep their workers' bellies full.
In Warfare they:
- Rely on massive ground-based armies for defense of their homeworlds.
- Genetically engineered war beasts (colloquially called "Invasive Species") used to take the fight to the enemy's territory.
- An Alliance Network to safeguard their own territory, after a third of Rolvian Space was occupied by foreign powers during the Great War.
Overview
The Star Republic of Rolvius is an agrarian economy. The nation practices sustained farming on multiple worlds in their territory. Inevitably they could be among the Major Powers of the Galaxy, but this would require a massive cultural and political shift, along with decades of work. Most of the citizens treasure their place in the galaxy- living so close to nature and enjoying the fruits of modernity via trade.
History
Rolvius generally benefited from the oversight of the Ashtar, allowing them to develop multiple Gaea-class planets under their protection, merging modern scientific discoveries with a careful application of genetic engineering to preserve natural phenomena. Having lost their original homeworld to dramatic climate change and industrialization, the Ashtar gave the Rolvians a second chance at survival- one that they have not forgotten.
During the Great War, the Rolvians were initially unwilling to enter hostilities and holed up within their borders as war gathered on the horizons. Multiple foreign powers crossed their borders and set up staging grounds on satellite worlds within the Republic- initially these "unwanted guests" were exceedingly polite, diplomatic, and utterly able to overpower the Rolvians with or without a fight. Rolvus unprepared for war would lose only a little faster than Rolvus obsessively prepared for war. Rolvius held its fleets in reserve while multiple belligerents pledged to help dislodge the occupiers in exchange for access to the Rolvian breadbaskets and their ground troops, especially when grain and meat stopped leaving their sectors to the rest of the galaxy. Rolvus continued gathering strength and withholding shipments, putting severe strain on food sources throughout whole galactic sectors. Four planetary governments were toppled due to hunger riots directly related to the Rolvian food blockade- three of them were eventually conquered by Rolvian troops in the late stages of the war.
Major Holdings
Rolvius The original Gaea world within the Rolvian Cluster, Rolvius has an equatorial radius of 60,221 Km, an oxygen-rich atmosphere, and a population numbering 4,000,000,000 on its surface and under its oceans. A further 500,000,000 live and work in its manufactory orbital stations. Two moons, both lacking oxygen and plant life, hold another 8,000,000 individuals on and under their surfaces. Rolvius is the most developed of the Republic's cluster of worlds, and it provides the seat of political power for the Parliamentary body.
Mezla A rocky, but still habitable large moon beside a gas giant, Mezla was originally a pirate haven. It's been theorized that Mezla suffered an asteroid strike some 300 years prior, with the dust storms only now subsiding. The Republic invaded and occupied it with help from the Ashtar fleets, destroying the pirate outpost and restoring order to the sector and appropriating the moon for themselves. Efforts to introduce plant and animal life to an otherwise desolated moon. Mezla is not thriving, but it now has traces of greenery and manufacturing centers. Corporate interests within the Republic have taken to using Mezla as a no-holds-barred factory world (though it would still be viewed as having wildly restrictive regulations in the eyes of most galactic corporations). Mezla builds most of the warships in Rolvius, and their workers created the Hyperdreadnought Gaea, but there is clear mistrust between the workers, their corporate sponsors, and the Rolvian Parliament that has allowed Mezla to be corrupted by industry.
Manir The site of most of the destruction in the Great War. Manir was occupied by foreign powers until the end, when the threat of mass starvation due to a blanket food blockade forced a withdrawal by the warring powers. Manir was a center of learning and commerce prior to the Great War, but it has lately become a constant drain on financial resources. Even with indemnities forced out of the invaders at the peace conference, Manir has a long way to go towards recovery.
Demographics
Population
The Republic's population is mostly (92%) native Rolvians, though there has been an influx of humans (2%) and other races to spaceports since the Great War's end. Deserters of foreign armies that tramped across Manir have been regularly found, and depending on the manner of their discovery, are either extradited to their home star nation or allowed to live-and-let-live.
Society
Rolvian society revolves around the farming communities and families. Family units can be homo, hetero, or any other -sexual. The prevalence of genetic splicing allows for the creation of children outside heterosexual reproductive methods, and this does not carry a significant stigma outside of several Fundamentalist Gaean sects.
A Rural Rolvian does not live in a town, but on a bio-ranch with several thousand workers. Cities are primarily administration centers and spaceports, with few factories to produce machinery and packaging supplies. Ore is mined from the Republic's asteroid belts- never from any planet unless a prospective asteroid mine cannot be found.
A city Rolvian will often be identified by their place of work, either at a University, Government Agency, or Factory.
A Rolvian Asteroid Miner lives in a controlled colony, working in low gravity work to provide raw materials that will protect the beauty of home. Some take pride in this work. Some are sentenced to this work. Most just know it's an easy way to make money if they can stand the cramped quarters and isolation.
Roughly 40% of Rolvians Revere the Galactic Gaea, a motherly figure that protects, shelters, and provides from the earth while granting hidden knowledge. Human scholars that first encountered the religion referred to her as "Hippy Prometheus with giant... plants."
Economy
The Republic's economy is dominated by agricultural exports. A full 68% of economic output (and 82% of exports) are food-based products or byproducts (leather, hides, etc). Behind agriculture is bio-engineering, medicine, and tourism. It is not uncommon for Oligarchs across the galaxy to venture into the Republic and purchase genetic treatments- receiving custom grown heart, lung, or skin regeneration, then recovering from such treatments in one of many resorts or vacation destinations across the Republic.
Government
Prime Minister Vannifar currently holds the speaker position in the Rolvian government. Duchess of Granite Peak, she is on her third term as Minister and wields power in a Coalition government. Her Liberal-Aristocracy Party hold 30% of the seats in Parliament, while their partners the Corporate Alliance Party and the Manir Solidarity Party hold 14% and 11%, respectively.
Vannifar lived through the occupation of Manir and has made the completion of the Hyper-Dreadnought her main foreign policy tool.
Rolvian Cabinet Prime Speaker: Lady Varous Vannifar (Liberal-Aristocracy) Minister of Defense: Ministress Kiora (Liberal-Aristocracy Party) Minister of Interplanetary Affairs: Minister Thrun (Manir Solidarity Party) Minister of the Treasury: Ministress Rayne (Corporate Alliance Party) Minister of Justice: Ministress Lyra (Independent) Minister of Trade: Minister Roalesk Ran (Corporate Alliance Party) Minister of Planetary Development: Ministress Multana (Manir Solidarity Party)
Technological Information
Major Techs
Biological Splicing: Rolvian ground troops use military standard blasters and kinetic rifles, but their infantry are granted genetic infusions to improve their natural fighting ability. Night vision genetic grafts from the Manir Mountain Puma, hard leather skin implantation from splicing with the Mezla Pink Rhino, and in some cases, webbing beneath the arms to allow for gliding over short distances.
Rapid Harvesting: Rolvius has practiced cultivation of crops for generations, experimenting with genetic modifications for multiple seed crops. These crops tend to produce two-to-three harvests per year.
Bio-Weapons: The Rolvian army does not manufacture armored vehicles beyond airships and starships. Most of the "armored vehicles" that they field are actually modified beasts of war.
Acid Missiles: Rolvian warships and strike craft are armed with hunter-killer torpedoes and missiles, though the explosive components within these weapons only serve as propulsion to deliver the missile's true payload- acid globules. These globules attach themselves to solid components on enemy targets and begin to dissolve metal and steel at an exponential rate. Maximum damage threshold is met approximately 3 minutes after delivery in the vacuum of space, while oxygen accelerates the destructive process. Should roughly 3 cubic-meters of acid be delivered to the interior of a warship it can and will begin dissolving metal, flesh, and bone for roughly 30 minutes, and \the acid will be further spread through water-based fire suppression systems. Carbon and nitrogen-based fire-fighting systems will successfully prevent the spread of acid and even halt the destruction.
Military Overview
The Rolvian military practices a defensive policy. Their fleet is considered third class by the galaxy's major powers, but their marines and ground forces are considered a threat to any general, anywhere in the galaxy. Rolvian bio-weapons are lab built and refined, their genetic codes altered and tweaked to make sure that their weapons will be as deadly as a raging lion on the battlefield, and as docile (and delicious) as a cow when peace is declared.
Fleet/Navy
Dreadnoughts: The Rolvians have only ever laid down the hull for one Dreadnought, the RRS Gaea. The Gaea was repurposed and upgraded into a Hyperdreadnought, and officially completed in recent weeks.
Battleships: The Republic does not possess any Battleships at this time.
Battlecruisers: The Republic does not possess any Battle-cruisers at this time.
Cruisers: Most of the Republic's cruisers were purchased in the lead-up to the Great War.
Destroyers:
Frigates:
Corvettes:
Strike craft:
Rolvian strike craft are armed with acid hunter-killer missiles and standard anti-strike craft kinetic cannons. Most travel in squadrons of 10 and up to 5 squadrons are moored on monitoring stations through the Rolvian sector.
Army/Planetary forces: Rolvian infantry are primarily made up of planetary guard forces. Some join the guard corps out of a sense of patriotism, others for the lucrative tax breaks, but most find the training and passive genetic grafts useful in everyday life "back on the farm." Add to this the likely assignment of a government bred Uulaka, a venomous but loyal war beast, to be a benefit back home as well. The Uulaka protects crops and herds and is a hardy mount, capable of moving at speeds nearly 75 kph for short bursts.
The Planetary Guard Corps could, if fully assembled, launch a prolonged invasion of an entire solar system with reasonable chances of conquest without more than token naval support.
The RRS Gaea is an Ark-class Hyperdreadnought, meant to deliver a planet-conquering strike-force in one go, with sufficient strike craft support to command air-superiority for prolonged periods. Owing design to the original colony ships that brought the Rolvians to their new home system, the ship is meant to deliver an entire Army Corps, their battle mounts, and ordnance to the field. The ship's design was meant to be used to counter a weakness from the Great War when Manir was occupied by foreign powers. Rolvius had enough soldier to retake their planet, but no delivery method for transporting them to the front.
The Ark is littered with point-defense weapons and strike craft launch bays, but only a handful of anti-ship torpedo launchers. She is a delivery vessel, to be shielded by the rest of the fleet.
TL;DR: Wood Elf Poland IN SPACE!
Foreign Policy:
Asra Ascendancy - The primary occupiers of Manir during the First War. Most of the planet was scoured for relics of the Ashtar and then abandoned, though the Great War ended before the Asra could glass its surface. The Rolvians respect the psychic power of the Asra as natural phenomena, but old grudges die hard.
The Imperial Systems Commonwealth - One of the major buyers of Rolvian crops to subsidize their own workforce's caloric intake. Commercial ties are strong, but diplomacy is decidedly one-sided. The Rolvians will lose any naval engagement, but a ground war will destroy the crops the Commonwealth needs to fuel their colonies.
We're not dogpiling. We're not upset. At its heart, this is a grand story that is going to be told by all of us together. We're just trying to make sure that everyone gets a place in the story, that none of this turns into a case of people yelling "NO! YOU'RE DEAD!" in the comments like four-year-olds. We'll all have strengths. We'll all have weaknesses. But we'll all have a story to tell.
Admittedly, it may be more helpful for people to say "No, but what about if you tried-" instead of just "No. OP."
