Andreyich

Why so many 18+ marked roleplayings?

Because people are fucking disgusting

Eden(Small-scale Space NRP)

For your viewing pleasure @Sigma@Hyperdrive@Crispy Octopus

My nation

Nation Name/Flag: The Councillary Confederation of Neohumanity.



Government Type:
Mixed. A partial hivemind creating a de facto direct democracy in most decisions of the civilization from the highest to the lowest levels. However overseeing all of this are several Overseers both synthetic (AI) and organic humans. De Jure there is an Autocrat of the Confederation but in truth he is little more than a figurehead with arguably even less power than his official underlings; missteps or excesses on his or her part will result in fast termination of their status and an investigation in potential necessity processing.

Demographics: 100% Neohuman [Homo Novus].
To explain, Neohuman is the term used by people in the Sol system to describe themselves and similar beings. The descendants of the humans to first arrive there have modified themselves with cybernetics and genetic editing to the point they can no longer procreate with humans from outside of their territory. The full list of their modifications can go on for very long: functional immortality given maintenance, imperviousness to radiation, the elements, poisons and disease. Strength, endurance and physical durability, larger frames, and drastically improved intelligence. All sorts new functionalities are added from new spectra of colour being determinate, to communications equipment built in, to first aid and self-repair kits, to solar and other energy absorbents, to all sorts of work equipment beneath the skin. If needed, any neohuman can self-destruct to go out in a small but powerful blaze of super-heated fats with power cells throwing shards of bone and electronics as horrifying shrapnel as though from a shaped charge. A Neohuman’s cranial implants allow them to download and store knowledge for any job be it diplomat and soldier. However, one’s aptitudes will provide a specific job and further augments particular to a neohuman’s profession will be provided be it voice synthesizers, pheromone vents and internal translators for the former or retractable blades, lasers and internal shield generators for the latter. To finalize, no two Neohumans will be the same. Though there is an attempt to create functional parity between people, two people might have the same augmented strength in their legs but one achieving it with gene editing and muscle grafts, the other through cybernetics. For some people many augments are a drain on their power supplies and will thus not be taken if not needed. Many people of the CCN will look like ordinary people, simple larger, more muscular, aesthetically pleasing — perfect. But just as many will be visibly inhuman creatures, their skin cold metal and plastics, their eyes artificial lenses oft glowing from within. But starting from the moment of insemination a Neohuman child will be very far ahead of his or her ancestors.

Leadership:
Officially, the current head of state of the Councillary Confederation of Neohumanity is one Anton Pallic Strasser. He is quite literally the face of the state, appearing on propaganda, attending diplomatic events, managing and mediating intranational disputes, and doing everything else his station demands of him. That said there are many more key elements of the state.

The Overseer-Calculant is the man ultimately considering the economy of the Confederation along with oversight of the science so critical to its functionality. Much more machine than man, each step of his foot shakes the floor with the weight of computational augments. Lazar Silkiku is the name of this being, but outside of Councillary meetings he will rarely leave his office.

Maria Skuorontsoua takes the rank of Overseer-Militant. She is the oldest member of the ruling Council, being in fact one of the few people who still remember the war against Sol's natives, the great awakening and even old-Earth. It is said on the skin beneath her armour is engraved the name of every single soul that perished under her command. Though as with all Neohumans a somewhat youthful appearance is maintained through the centuries, her age is more than apparent in her eyes. Her memories make her a somewhat mythologized figure with the death of which will be marked a new era. A somewhat mythologized figure, her testimonies of old-Earth are sought out by many. The respect given to her has also allowed her to get much help in the Overseer-Militant’s auxiliary duty as chief of internal security and intelligence.

Finally comes Overseer-Interlocutor: Alexis Chalenko. Responsible for all international dealings not falling under the purview of the Overseer-Militant, the Interlocutor does everything from commerce to diplomacy on a grand scale, as well as using what time is left from those duties to be something of a minister of culture.

Economy:
The Confederation's internal economy is a hybrid of planned and market economy. Though supply and demand exist, as does luxury, desire and competition several crises of markets have long since insured the CCN is not purely capitalist in nature. In fact it is perhaps one of if not the best iterations of socialism to date, the most glaring capitalist part of its system being that it is based around infinite growth. It has a strong natalist policy further supplemented by fairly simple immigration criteria (namely that one is human and willing to become a Neohuman) and veritable people factories. If a scheduled project does not appear to have a sufficient workforce prepared, then it will be kidnapped and processed.

This perhaps gives an insight that while internally the CCN is a welfare focused government it is externally extremely mercantile and capitalist. It will severely mark up prices of its goods and services to those in need. Contracts of any variety are secured regardless of who posted them or why so long as their terms are profitable to the Confederation.

When bartering there are many things the CCN offers to Eden. It is estimated that a full 30% of the export economy of the Confederation comes from what can be placed under the umbrella of research, analysis and development. The core systems are the scientific and technological capital of Eden, but the Sol system is the scientific and technological capital of the Core Worlds. Even though it releases its scientific findings with a one year lag, they still turn a tremendous profit in their sales, particularly in the following fields: Physics (especially nuclear and astronomical), biology (particularly genetic engineering and cybernetics), robotics & machinery, and mathematics (particularly in the study and development of algorithms for synthetic intelligence). Furthermore, many governments and organizations will pay for them to study particular topics or develop certain things, quadrillions of lines of code in the Star cluster being first made in CCN, even in languages and operating systems the Confederation has discontinued use of for having adopted newer ones.

But knowledge and ideas are not the only thing the CCN has to offer Eden; the fruits of said knowledge and ideas are very popular too. Nuclear power and research have moulded the CCN and they are more than willing to share the gifts of the atom to the world… for a fair price, of course. Their Nuclear generators, fuel cells, and disinfectors will effectively last centuries to come. Machinery, cybernetic parts, robots, tools, prefab buildings, all are made in Councillary factories. Entire cities piece by piece will be shipped from it, to be reassembled locally for a price. Worlds will be terraformed, accidents cleaned up, and plagues cured if the cash is coughed up.

The military sphere also provides much of a cash and resource inflow for the Councils. Even outdated and used weapons, armours and munitions of the CCN are worthy of the elite troops and fleets of Eden. Though conventional weapons like laser and plasma are their main produce, they are more than happy to sell their abundant dirty bombs or proper nuclear war heads. Indeed if the price is right they will sell their more creative arms from radcannons, to sonic emanators to cryoguns. Another great thing one can purchase of the CCN is the service of Reislaufer Legionnaires. The CCN military for the most part trawls the Galaxy collecting bounties and slaughtering pirates, but will pick up any bounty or answer any request for their abilities. Though one can rarely get more than a single Legion, that alone holds power to be feared. Reislaufer Legion's pride themselves on a no questions asked none answered policy, extreme speed and unimaginable brutality putting most other mercenary outfits to shame and making their outlandish expense well worth it.

The CCN also has full theoretical autarky. Supply depots filled with any possible demand in times of crisis are a dime a dozen in the Asteroid field of the Sol system and it can produce everything needed for continuation and even growth with what industry and mining it has as is. But this drastically slows down the advancement of the CCN in its ultimate goals.

While in a Vacuum the CCN will survive, it prefers to export things to accumulate wealth and make imports in turn to accommodate its constant growth and its burgeoning collection of frontier tributaries.

The thing the Councils need most of all are raw resources, particularly conductive and industrial metals. While the industry of the CCN even with its near 99% efficiency guzzles resources like old ladies tea, one cannot forget that even reproduction for Neohumans is a resource intensive task. The creation of a Neohuman requires almost half the body weight of an average human being in metals and other minerals. Yet new Neohumans are always needed, and as such they will covertly deal with human traffickers when needed buying large quantities of people. The CCN will also pay very, very dearly for any knowledge they currently do not have. A sample of a government's new weapon, a recovered Arc's artifacts or a previously undiscovered lifeform; all will be greedily demanded to help their growth and learning. Indeed, in the pursuit of closing the gaps in their knowledge the CCN will even pay the outrageous prices demanded by Atlas’s university to gain access to the great amount of research done there. The open immigration policy of the CCN was partially adopted so that they could get experience and knowledge otherwise unavailable to them instead of having to pay for the research of these people if it was done elsewhere, though this has only partially been successful given the unwillingness of many to give up their humanity just to be in a CCN university.

The goods and services of the CCN for sale are unimaginably expensive. But even if lagging the things they make for domestic consumption their exports are of the highest quality that makes customers keep returning from all across the stars, while making ne’erdowells forge a “Made in the CCN” stamp.

Military:
The Military of the CCN is one of the smallest of the Eden Stars, but its size does not prevent it from being a fearsome force capable of projecting itself all across the star cluster. The armed forces of the CCN are divided primarily into three parts; 50% of it are “Reislaufers”, the fearsome mercenary troops gallivanting across the galaxy looking for adventure, be it a contract to protect an installation or collecting a bounty of a wanted criminal. Reislaufers carry the most advanced, experimental weaponry of the CCN which it is their job to field-test. The fantastic and at times nonsensical nature of their new weapons is one of the factors giving them their fearsome reputation; they were the first to carry the cryoguns, arc-rifles, radcannons, stealth suits, scanner scramblers and sonic emanators that are now one of the defining traits of CCN soldiers. 45% of it are designated as “Uskoks”, troops travelling across the Eden cluster hunting pirates and other foes threatening Councillary trade. They will occupy ground and protect various installations of the CCN across Eden, acting as auxiliary gendarmes around CCN interests and otherwise act as the long tentacles of the CCN. There is of course massive overlap between the Uskoks and the CCN, and terminology is expected to be retired as the glorified pirates and stern lawgivers of the Councils become one and the same. Then there are the National Guard, these 5% are the permanent troops staying in the Sol system to protect the core territory of the Confederation. The Sol system is largely protected by a great wall of automated defence, swarms of drones and that any citizen of the CCN can at any time download combat protocols to become extremely potent warriors trillions upon trillions strong. The CCN pushes the very limits of the laws on keeping jump gates demilitarized, defences installed at the very nanometre they are no longer forbidden. However, most civilians will have implants at best situationally useful in case of combat and to be the first line of defence the National Guard exist. They will adopt the experimental weapons tested by the Reislaufers the moment after they are field tested and deemed ready for use.

Across all forces of the CCN a thorough doctrine of overwhelming firepower will be present in their combined arms warfare. In war, the inhumanity of Neohumanity is most evident. Wholesale slaughter of unprecedented proportions is nothing to them, and words for collateral damage are all but forgotten in their lexicon. A few million people dying in the crossfire of their weapons is nothing but a statistic.

On the ground, a very varied set of equipment is available to troops of the CCN. They make much use of their advanced technologies, that much is certain. Powered armour is standard issue even to Infiltrators and other stealth troops integrated fully with their cybernetics to be perfect extensions of their bodies. The mainstay of infantry weapons are simple lasers set to rapid fire for engagement against enemy infantry or hi-power bursts for stealth and anti-vehicle action. Plasma throwers will sometimes be found with infantry but outside of grenades plasma is largely reserved for vehicles to melt their counterparts or enemy infantry at short or medium range. Rail weapons are generally reserved for AA fire or on artillery to deliver explosives at high speed or inside armour/fortifications. Traditional propellant based weapons have been entirely outphased in the CCN, and in their place have come the many exotic specialist weapons. Cryoguns freeze men and electronics, sonic emanators burst blood vessels inside of armour, scanner scramblers act like partial but far longer ranged EMPs, arc-rifles fry circuitry and flesh alike (though, their most common use is in “pacification”), while stealth suits make even bulky power armoured troops unheard and unseen to naked eye and ear. Very liberal use of generally “forbidden” or “last resort” weapons is also found amongst Councillary troops. Radcannons and Radgrenades are especially favoured given the resistance to radiation of Neohumans, but free use of dirty bombs or proper nuclear explosives is also very common. Engineered bioweapons, chemical poisons or flammables, no rule is sacred to the CCN on the battlefield. Perhaps the last thing of note about CCN ground forces is apparent old-Earth nostalgia of them. Traditional wheeled and tracked vehicles are just as common as hovering ones. Advanced melee weapons are issued to every soldier from bayonets to full bardiches and pikes. But this should not be taken as a weakness if one values their life. Tracks and wheels are used offensively with their sides being mounts for laser sponsons and will grind through walls and other obstacles, making them particularly useful in breaking stalemated sieges. Blades they use will be sharpened to a monomolecular edge, superheated, have active currents running through them and be surrounded by force fields to let them cut through power armour like butter — similar procedures will be applied to rocket-propelled blunt weapons to make CCN hammers as effective of an anti-tank tool as rocketry.

The CCN does not have dedicated atmospheric or void fighters and bombers, instead preferring to have amphibious flyers capable of operating both planetside and in the void. There is perhaps a somewhat interesting design in Councillary fleets, wherein carriers will carry fighters that are in themselves carriers of drones. These drone carriers are the most common fighter and bomber patterns that the Confederation employs though traditional ones using predominantly laser culverins exist in number.

Most esoteric of the armed forces of the Confederation however, is their navy. Every single vessel of the Councillary fleets is designed to be a perfect geometric shape, for the void has no need of aerodynamics. A notable fact of the CCN navy is the use of tachyon propulsion rather than the dark matter of most other nations. This allows them to be ever so slightly faster than the vessels of other nations (the estimated difference is less than 10%) but at the expense of being drastically less maneuverable (the estimated difference in contrast to the median Eden vessel is about 50%). This unmaneuverable nature is in part responsible for the continued usage of geometric designs for Confederate vessels in spite of them being first made centuries ago. The five main designs of Confederate ships are: cubes, spheres, polyhedrons, pyramids, and prisms.

Cubes and spheres are the main design for the larger armed ships of the Confederation, from dreadnought to battle to flagships. They have very, very few weakpoints while having a massive surface area for weapons and hangars. Lasers and fighter-bombers are the main weapons of cubes and spheres, but they also have much equipment for boarding actions. Specialized boarding torpedoes, gravitic and traditional grapples, and hybrid drone swarms.

Polyhedrons form the intermediate, heavy, battle and grand cruisers of the Councils. They tend to be more specialized than the cubes and spheres, picking two out of three of the combat methods of direct fire, boarding and carrier design.

Pyramids form everything from escorts, to frigates, to light and intermediate cruisers. They pick one of the three combat methods, but about 90% are designed for direct fire so that they might assist in orbital bombardments.

Prisms are a unique form of vessel for the CCN. They are the scale of any other ship, but they are wholly for civilian purposes - mostly transport of goods - rather than the hybridized military-civilian vessels of most of the CCN navy.

There are two more slightly less common CCN vessel patterns which come in any size and scale/class. First are cones: these are ships made primarily for stealth use. While all CCN ships have stealth capabilities, cones are entirely about it. They have much more scanner scrambling ability and chameleotech. Furthermore their cone shape means they are very front-loaded in weaponry, while having their flat rear as an unarmed weak point. This design is based in the fact they are meant to obliterate enemies before they can properly retaliate. Cylinders are are another noteworthy design. They are slow and clumsy, for their entire length is covered in laser arrays. Their purpose is to be firepower superiority elements; each laser battery is very powerful but slow to reload. As such the cylinder spins unloading each battery while rotating at the perfect speed that by the time a revolution is complete the first batteries have recharged, reloaded and cooled. This allows even a Cruiser sized cylinder to beat flagships with their massive and fully utilized firepower.

There are even more specialized variants of CCN ships like sphere tipped cones and cylinders or ring flyers, but these highly specialized vessels are a rare sight with very varied purposes.

To finalize, one must touch upon Confederate intelligence. Every single Agent of the CCN intelligence and special forces is a person with potent psionic abilities. The CCN has not found a reliable method to mass produce psychic individuals, but it nevertheless treasures the ones it has. Indeed, to better make use of these rare gifts they have developed cybernetics to amplify even the slightest sign of a person with psionic capabilities into a full fledged psychic. They are truly frightening individuals, combining the best of machine, flesh and psi into veritable monsters of the third millennium. There's no name for these frightening creatures save that which traumatized individuals give to them. These beasts are not many, but through methods violent or not they can bring worlds to heel. Every single vessel of the CCN carried precisely one, the rest dispersed as agents across the stars, but with vast majority remaining in the Sol system for further study, testing and improvement. This has altered recently, as the CCN has realized the importance of learning from “the lessers”, and as such a great many of these agents are sent out to the other nations of Eden for scientific espionage in the hopes of finding what Neohumanity could not discover for itself. These agents will often also be embedded in diplomatic missions as formally the CCN wants friendly relations with all nations of the world to maintain trade and - more importantly - access to their repositories of knowledge. These specialized envoys will even be sent to nations and organizations very low on the index of scientific production given the Councils have more and more considered the value of culture and social sciences which they now realize their backwardness in.

History:
The Arcs that came to the system now known as Sol were predominantly populated by people of Northern Eurasia. Hardy folk most certainly, but not nearly enough to weather what they would wake up to as they woke up.

A truly new reality awaited them. They came to find out they were apparently the only humans left with the rest of their species apparently lost to the void. But that was the least of their worries for the moment. The system that the Artificial Intelligence of the Arcs had lead the people to a system in each and every world was a lush, terraformed paradise. But there was a problem. Each one was also populated by local alien species who were quite advanced themselves, certainly advanced enough to travel through their system and return fire in case of conflict. There was an attempt at negotiation, but without either party prepared for such an occurrence they quickly broke down. It is not known who fired the first shot and in truth it isn't dwelled upon much. But a short war erupted, one which ultimately humanity won even if at the price of more than half the people upon the Arcs. The aliens of Sol system had a last laugh, however. Rather than be enslaved by man they self-destructed every single piece of technology still functional, primarily reactors and warheads.

The planets of the system in an hour transformed from paradises to hellscapes. It was a horror to behold, but the men of the Arc had not come so far for nothing.

After some work the Arc system was modified to forcefully crash land, to become a sort of shelter and home upon the now uninhabitable worlds. Men in void suits ventured out with drones to collect resources and start building, but all returned sick, the unimaginable amount of radiation and atmospheric poisons getting to them through their protection. Panic set in and martial law was established but that only solved issues of morale.

Many scientists stepped forth, speaking of their unfinished work on earth. It was experimental, but a solution. Many riled against this but it was the only way for the continuation of humanity. They got to work, and once finished they revealed the first Neohumans. These early forms looked much like men, they simply had a slightly bulkier frame to accommodate implants providing their resistance to radiation.

It was a true miracle, with which all resources and power were henceforth devoted to the scientists of the colony. As the Scientists got to work on a solution to the issue of the atmospheric poisons, the world was named Terra in honour of Old-Earth and the system was designated Sol.

The worlds were terraformed, and genetic engineering allowed the people to become resistant to the various toxins and elemental extremes that the worlds of the system now had. Slowly all the destruction was undone, the skies cleared and people once more began to live, not just survive. It took a long time for many to adapt to their new bodies and power structure, but it was ultimately all worth it. The leadership of science provided rapid advancement to the settlers from North Eurasia, slowly letting them conquer the hostile landscape and once more transform it to the paradise it was before. Cities were erected before people’s very eyes, families were had and satellites made.

But it wasn’t too long before people remembered why you don’t give scientists all the power. It was somewhere just as the last world of the system got its first city that a research time unveiled new sapient AI that would help build a future. Alas, the fact such AI is not present in the CCN now should give an inkling of what followed. It rebelled, thinking itself better than man and deserving all it had. They were powerful and their initial numerical disadvantage quickly flipped to an advantage as they mass produced more of themselves. They tried to unleash a bioweapon upon humanity to which they thankfully proved resistant, but in this they gave the people of Sol the idea to end them with software viruses. After millions of people died, it seemed ironic that it also took but five million lines of code to confuse and destroy the synthetics.

This short but devastating war that almost made the planets return to the state the Sol aliens left them in taught the Confederation of people that gradually began to call themselves Neohumans two things. First, one cannot trust or ever allow the creation of sapient and autonomous artificial intelligence. Second, giving power to Scientists was all well and good but they had to have at least some form of Oversight. Thus, the Councillary system formed. Every single project of the Confederation would be controlled by Councils of people of varying abilities and skill levels. All decisions would be performed by more than one person, leading to an arguably syndicalist system to become the norm. This all culminated in the people of the Sol System referring to themselves with their modern name: the Councillary Confederation of Neohumanity (CCN).

In truth the idea of jump gates and reconnecting with lost strands of humanity was largely forgotten by the people of the CCN, internal development being their focus. The activation of their jump gate was only a matter of scientific interest, but it gave much more than just the result of an experiment. The first thing to come through the jump gate were vessels, large vessels. They belonged to relatives of the Sol system natives, but more advanced. They had apparently sent a generation ship to another system, in which an arc had crash landed. They had reverse engineered it, and had decided to go back to their home system which had apparently made a gate too. Only, they had found new people to be occupying it, and after learning of their ancestor's fates a warring rage came up.

They were elegant, fast, advanced. There were many psychic in their number, the concept of which only recently was even fathomed by the CCN. The Confederation had stopped work on weaponry ever since they defeated the AI that plagued them, having worked on industry, infrastructure, culture and most of all scientific progress since then. But in their assaults the aliens made one fundamental mistake in the nature of the CCN, they believed they were fighting ordinary humans. The gene and cyber augmented beings they were fighting had long since stopped being homo sapiens, and they more than gave what they took. At first they as a stop gap sent vessels bearing active nuclear reactors head first into the foe, catching them off guard. Of course this trick only worked initially, but it only really had to buy time for the old weapon caches to be unlocked and for the men of Science to consider the practical instead of theoretical.

It is in the void combat over Sol that the rather esoteric appearance of CCN vessels comes from. The Scientists did not have much time to consider aesthetic or how combat is in reality rather than how they imagine it in the ordered universe of their minds. Armed men felt strange going into cubes and spheres to fight, but in truth it worked rather well. The geometric vessels went forth and from boarding actions done with cargo lifters to spinning barrages with mining lasers they slowly turned the tide. Many lives were lost, but the enemy was wiped out to the last. Only one xeno ship escaped, and it made sure that when it returned it destroyed its gate to prevent retribution from the CCN.

There were celebrations following victory, but it was also a solemn time where the many dead were mourned. Several decrees by the ruling council were issued, wherein a natalist policy to restore the population lost by wars was evident. People were encouraged to have as many children as possible for greater income, while literal people factories were founded that to this day still operate. System wide defences were established, and a military industrial complex was booted up along with eager research into psionics. With all that done, the CCN opened the jump gate it had closed to prevent the aliens escaping, and it thus became another player on the face of Eden.

As the Sol system became part of the international community there was definitely a curious nature to the CCN as a nation. They entirely lacked xenos in their population, but they also most certainly weren’t a human nation. They had but one system to themselves, but it was a star with few peers in terms of advancement and population. Their fleet, intelligence, and armed forces as a whole were very small but had fearsome potence given the horrifying things done to the first pirates they came into contact with. But most notable to the Council of the CCN was that none of the other core worlds had anything they Confederates wanted. Everybody wanted the advancements of the CCN, but nobody really had much to offer that they wanted.

It was then no surprise that the CCN spearheaded efforts to explore the rest of the Eden cluster, finding new frontier settlements who could offer massive untapped reserves of natural resources. Perhaps ironically, the discovery of peripheral and frontier worlds is what stimulated CCN trade with the core worlds. They needed mass produced supplies to give the people of the frontiers in exchange for their raw resources, and as such they gave advanced works of technology to the core worlds to seal these deals.

One last thing happened before one can consider history’s “modern” CCN. As Uskoks and Reislaufers went on great adventures through the stars, the comfort of the home star lead to softness in the Council. From the void came an enemy, an enemy that did not use jump gates. It was a hive of strange creatures, some instectoid but many not without any discernible sapience. They simply wanted to consume, and the CCN was not prepared. They called for aid from nearby systems, but for a variety of excuses received none. A great many people died, the small militia present just barely holding the line until Legions of Reislaufers and Uskoks returned home to purge the pests.

The conflict was recovered from fairly quickly, but it did foster many changes in the nation. From henceforth, their leadership was far more cynical, no trust being afforded to anyone for any reason whatsoever. Old-pattern humans were henceforth relegated to the status of xenos for the CCN: they were now to them expendable things, effectively animals with which they could and should do as desired by manifest destiny. Any prior xenos were henceforth stains on the world to be purged. The National Guard was also at this time founded, and but two centuries later is the present.

Characters: The Overseers, more to be added.

Nation Scaling: The Confederacy only has one system it has a permanent population upon. However it is a very large one with nine true planets and seventeen moons, in addition to a thick asteroid belt. All of this is extremely developed, each world drilled to the core to house billions of Neohumans while the surfaces remain idyllic, defence covered paradises. Asteroids house thousands of mining operations, supply depots and military installations. But that is far from all. Across the many clusters of celestial bodies there will be mining, trading and resupply operations of the Confederacy present. Expeditionary fleets of them will be all across the stars performing trade, experiments, doing mercenary work or the all important mining.

Though de jure it is a minor monosystemic power the Confederacy has a massive population and it is a giant of Trade. It is the Science, Research and Development capital of Eden. Its mercenaries are feared across the stars, its products set the highest of standards and access to their restricted market is the best proof an Edenite could have their wares are of the highest calibre.

But even at this the tentacles of the CCN do not stop. A very many frontier systems will feel the impact of the CCN, some more subtly while others quite directly. Governors will be bribed, companies purchased, "Legions of persuasion" will be deployed. In the rush to pilfer minerals, talent and work force worlds will be de facto occupied, some without any knowledge. Entire towns will be kidnapped overnight and processed into Neohumans, while shipments of conductive metals will go missing without a trace. Embassies and researchers of Internet & Noosphere will post ads as well as send recruiters to snatch the best, brightest, or at the very least either desperate or ideologically zealous to the Confederation. Some worlds will sign integration agreements with their populations slowly taking in genetic modifications and cybernetics to gradually become Neohumans, with one fateful day in the future letting them become true members of this new and advanced species. Though formally the CCN only owns one system, in reality it has assets allowing it to punch far above its weight bearing the power of a nation with at least two but possibly even four systems, and its power projection on the frontier worlds rivals that of Eden's superpowers. If one were to summarize the scale of the Neohuman nation, it is the opposite of a paper tiger: it is on paper a kitten, but in truth a monster of legend.

Fallout: Rust and Steel

Moss’s last words had left quite an impression on Kinsley, and she kept replaying them in her mind - what exactly was it that he was so ’certain’ of? The brief clues to his religious motivations troubled her more than she would have liked to admit to herself. She found herself thinking about how others would fare under his scrutiny, his intimidating gaze and the authority that he had been given. They were all much younger than she was. Impressionable, keen to make something of herself and perhaps the only reason that Kinsley found herself ‘immune’ to Moss was that she was none of those things, youth had left her and she was here for a single reason: to heal the crew should they become wounded.

So she occupied herself with that, away from the team as they chatted away in the near distance, Kinsley was stood over her table, writing down on paper her notes for the day, the gloom of the mess hall causing a strain on her eyes. As she muttered to herself, she completely missed the sound of approaching footsteps…

Two knocks punctuated the silence, announcing the entry of the now Knight Sergeant. He was still within his power armour but with helmet in hand while rolling back the hood of his Recon armour. A fairly large tearing of skin was on top of a mound on his head. Daniel would have "walked it off" if it wasn't something so visible on his head but given that it was precisely that he decided to go the Doctor. Maybe she'd give something for the headaches, maybe a little disinfectant for all the sweat and dirt rammed in there by the skin-tight hood.

"Scribe Kinsley, do you have a moment?" he asked, an interrogative eyebrow raised. If she'd say she was busy he'd without a second thought turn back to return later.

The ringing in her ears was present, but she still heard the sound of a knock, she turned around to see Estevez looking torn up, even in his power armour. Why was everyone in bad shape. The doctor rubbed her eyes with a closed fist, stifling a yawn while she regarded his question. All she had were moments. "Sit down Estevez. Or should I call you Knight Sergeant now?" Even with just a cursory glance at him, it was clear the wound was gruesome but nothing that she couldn't mend.

Nodding gratefully he took the seat, not really bothering to point out his wound given how obvious it was. "I've had my lights beaten out of me in training but never something that hurts like my head now." he said, looking at his surroundings. "Either will do, Doctor." the Knight Sergeant replied, apparently oblivious to any implications.

“Well, they probably don’t tear you up like this in training,” she remarked, already prepared with a dampened swab to clean him up. As she pressed it to the wound, she clucked her tongue and gave another sigh. She knew the drill - that they had to scope out the area first, but Estevez really shouldn’t have been allowed to wander like this. She’d have to speak to Moss again, even if she really didn’t want to. “Is this your first mission?” she asked, starting him off in conversation before she brought a needle out.

The Knight Sergeant chuckled as his healer said they didn't tear him up in training like that. "Don't know about that." he said, thinking back to some of his encounters. "When I was sixteen I was feeling like I was the best. I beat all the other boys and… well, I relaxed. A Paladin asked me why and I told him, so that's when they brought Henry to me. He didn't treat me well in the training grounds I'll tell you that. He had a year on me and half a foot, but more importantly he'd seen things in the wasteland. When he was done I'd coughed up half my body weight in blood and they had to pull him off because he was about to pull my nose off with his fingers. Taught me a lesson I can't forget. I've never been shot or stabbed, but l know what pain is Doctor; I mean it when I say my head hurts, it's not just a boo-boo in there."

As if to demonstrate, there wasn't the slightest tremble, flinch, sigh, grit of teeth or any other sign of hurt as the swab touched raw flesh. "But no, this isn't my first mission." he continued. "I've been out through the wasteland, though never as long as we have so far I'll admit. Never killed a man until today. It was… very, very easy." He hadn't had a chance to speak to the Paladin about this as he had planned when first realizing it, his head preoccupied with Gregory's death and his promotion during the conversation with Moss. Only now the thoughts resurfaced in a momentary slip, the previous passions only at this moment wearing off on Daniel.

Kinsley tried to imagine a sixteen-year old Estevez, his story playing out in her mind as she worked. She got to thinking about what Victoria would have done at sixteen, definitely not fighting and training to be a soldier. She was softer than that, always was. She liked painting, reading… Kinsley shut her eyes, blinking the thoughts away. “I’ll take your word for it then, tough guy,” she added with a small chuckle of her own. Estevez had ambition, that much was true, and while Kinsley certainly questioned the motive behind Moss promoting him, she wasn’t going to let him in on that thought. He needed morale, after all.

She raised a brow at what he let slip to her though, and she thought on an answer for a while. Occupied her mind with threading the needle, readying to stitch. “It’s not something you have time to think about when it’s you or them. You’re locked in a moment, and everything else is drowned out until you either pull the trigger or the trigger is pulled on you… How do you feel about it now?” she asked gently as the first of his tear was pulled back together.

The Knight replied with a chuckle of his own at being called tough guy. "Not bad for a nickname, not bad at all." Yet another chuckle came, though this one was without any humour. "Well, that's the thing. Moss at one point talked to me, sized me up. Said the wasteland would chew me up, then spit me out; I'm not ready for it. All the older Knights told me about how your first kill messed you up. It's hard, there's remorse. I believed these words. But looking back, I feel nothing. I saw the whites of these men's eyes, I heard their death throes and their cries for mother. Meaningless, all of it." he paused, taking a good lock at Kinsley. He knew that mental health was important, but he also knew a Knight that went crazy going down a cycle of taking medications prescribed for a mental condition that had side effects needing a medicine that cause side effects that needed… And so on and so forth. Beyond that, Daniel didn't really want word he was a crazy to come out of this talk. But then again it was all too late to stop now.

"The Paladin is a man of the book and I'm sure he's killed a lot of people by now. I was going to talk to him about this, really, but I didn't get a chance. I keep going over in my head these little mind games to give myself remorse for the raiders. Maybe they had fought off the Enclave here long ago and seeing men in power armour and with a vertibird they thought they were back and were trying to protect their homes. Maybe some other outfit of power armoured men was wreaking havoc around here. Maybe like so many raiders back home they just have no other way to feed their kids." A thoughtful pause kept the scene quiet save for the Doctor plying her trade. "Nothing. I feel nothing. I didn't even think to put out the ones dying out of their pain and suffering, I wouldn't waste the bullets. I could go back out there with my gatling laser and do it again, this time take even more now that I know how."

Kinsley listened to Estevez, every word. Each stitch falling with his confession, it wasn’t something she had a lot of experience in. She wasn’t a trained soldier like he was, but people had died on her table, in her care. “We aren’t given a script in life, Estevez,” she began, pulling at the thread. Her stitches neat and precise, and her hands working on years of muscle memory given her time to produce an adequate response. “The nature of this beast is that is can be brutal, uncompromising. As much as you want to tell yourself they were once good people, we can’t be sure that they haven't always been bad. Evil is… hard to define. You were trained to do a certain job, and that job isn’t easy…” Kinsley paused again, unmoving.

“When I was not much older than you, I walked the wasteland. I remember we met raiders. One of them was very injured. Very, very injured.” Taking a breath in the conversation, Kinsley began again with her work. “Had we not acted, he would have died. I was trained to save people, and I didn’t give any thought to whether this man had committed wrongs, or whether he had committed rights. We did our jobs and then we moved on…” She cleared her throat, and turned to be able to look Estevez in the eye, “my point being - your experience is not going to be the experience of your cohorts - today you may feel no remorse for this, the next time you kill it might make you sick to your stomach… Do you want to feel remorse?” she asked at last.

It was a lot of words to consider, words that the young soldier never had thoughts even parallel to before. "The years have given you wisdom, Scribe Kinsley." Estevez said while thinking as a sort of sign he wasn't daydreaming. The beginning of her first words compounded with the story confused him, their morals seeming quite different if not quite antithetical. Eventually he began a slow and rather tentative response.

"Maybe I will feel sick, maybe not. I'm certainly not feeling any less averse to the idea. Anyway, it's not an issue of if I want to feel remorse or not Doctor. I…" Daniel paused, looking for an analogy with his hand waving through the air. "I wish I wouldn't feel pain. It would make me a better soldier. But if I wasn't I'd know something is very, very wrong. If I can kill hundreds of men without blinking once or shedding a single tear then all the better for my duty. I would make Paladin in no time! But that's not the problem. The problem is it's not supposed to be like this. They say the feeling of power is addictive, and everything in this world you do is a hidden slippery slope. In twenty years from now I don't want to shoot a child because it means finishing a mission faster. But if I go down that path then the wishes of Knight-Sergeant Estevez won't matter to Paladin Estevez. So I'd rather the Knight Sergeant do what he can while he's still in power."

“Pain is the reminder that under all of the armour, and at the end of the day, we’re still human.” Kinsley answered softly. “Without it, we’d just be machines. If you choose to skip the pain then you’re skipping all the good feelings too - everything that makes you who you are. You’re not a better soldier if you just become a point and shoot machine, Daniel,” she added. There was something very poignant about him saying it while still within the confines of his armour, only his face sticking out. A comforting squeeze would be lost on the cold steel. It was heavy to think about. “All the better for duty, maybe. But being a soldier is more than killing and combat. Sounds like all you’ve done is fight,” she sighed, finishing the last of his stitches with a neat loop. He was so young, and these questions of morality were weighing heavily on him.

“I see more than that in you. You can be a lot more than a gun on the frontline…” Kinsley brought pinched fingers to the bridge of her nose, eyes scrunched, her thoughts scrambled and turned over - she barely knew if she was making sense. “You know that Paladin comes from the latin Palatinus - of the palace, essentially. In history a Paladin represents heroism and chivalry. Legendary peers and protectors… A true Paladin wouldn’t kill a child for any cause.”

Kinsley placed her tools back on the table, picking up a fresh gauze to finish cleaning him up. “Sounds like your bump to the head knocked a few questions loose. It’s good to think about these things, and… there’s nothing wrong with you for it. I’d be more worried if you didn’t question the things around you, and how you’re feeling…”

The Knight Sergeant's brow furrowed with comprehension taking a few moments. He thought his counterpart had taken his analogy too far and too literally, but he understood the point she had made. She certainly wasn't wrong all he'd really done is fight, or otherwise prepared for it.

He hadn't really gotten resolution to what was troubling him, in fact things seemed to only get more complex. But Daniel it was the right complexity, he had to give Kinsley that. "Well, thank you Doctor." he said, thinking back to Paladin Moss, the Outcast Brotherhood Paladins, and the armoured men tormenting Daniel in his dreams. "You've read your etymologies Doctor, but brush up on your history." he continued, standing up and bowing in gratitude. He hadn't managed to bum some pills but perhaps for the best — an addiction in the field would be nasty business. "Thank you Doctor. From the depths of my soul: thank you. There's not much I can offer that isn't part of my duty, but if you ever need something of me do not hesitate to ask. I'll be seeing you about. Ad Victoriam." with that the Knight-Sergeant saluted, did an about-turn and headed off on his business.

She had nothing left to say, and simply waved him off as he made his way back towards the campfire. Meanwhile, she let herself have that moment to slump down into the chair. The conversation had left her with more questions, weight, and a new sense of responsibility. Another worry line found its way to her forehead as she tilted her head back, giving the ceiling a long hard look before she closed her eyes.

Eden(Small-scale Space NRP)

@Sigma So I'm thinking for my dudes they came upon a system in which initially each world was decent for human life having been Terraformed extensively by a previous species present. But unable to communicate the two got to war with my settlers eventually winning but as a final retribution the native xenos scoured their worlds with doomsday devices. The remaining worlds remained survivable but still terrible places to be leading to the people having to go into considerable cybernetics and genetic engineering to adapt to their new conditions, and thus the demographics would be 100% "transhuman" for it. Sound cool?

Eden(Small-scale Space NRP)

Moderately interested, what sort of timeframe to start are we looking at? I was thinking of a corporatocracy of some sort or living out some epic national power fantasy

[Storms and Shadows] - A Black Crusade inspired 40k Chaos RP.

I will wait for a GM post before going on myself

Warhammer 40k: Enemy Without, Enemy Within - an 'Ecclesiarchal' RP [Mature][High Casual/Low Advanced]

The Confessor didn't turn to look back, but he was fairly satisfied that after his rallying cry he heard the movement of feet followed by munitions flying over either shoulder to show that it worked. As he reached the enemy, he was pleased to find the first few men he planned to give a taste of the old maul had already died in the counter-charge of the loyalists. But there were still more than enough to go around and with a low pitched growl he swung his weapon hitting a too late to dodge heretic right in the stomach. That part of the man affected was flattened, before hitting the ground making the poor fellow bisected. The next one seemed a little more clever, ducking under the first swing of the Confessor, then the second and jumping over the third. As his feet hit the ground the villain extended a cleaver bearing hand to get Horacio by the armpit where his carapace wouldn't protect him. It hurt oh how it hurt, but the Cleric squeezed pressed his arm to his torso so the man couldn't retract his blade back and in his surprise got a kick in the fork. Craning over in sudden pain the warrior didn't have long to suffer as his head vapourized thanks to a swing from the maul.

The Confessor was bleeding, and already the mere two kills had gotten his aged body some tiredness. But a rage at the sight of everything before him filled his veins and he couldn't even wait to end the next foe in melee combat. His shotgun was unslung and the rack of the slide was the only thing that would precede things going dark for a heretic. A hearty laugh emanated from the geezer as he almost perfectly imitated the two kills with his maul by first splitting a crying man in two, before having his blast liquefy another man's head. He forced it down as it seemed combat was dying down, and the frog-like laugh from the belly wouldn't be appreciated (especially if casualties were taken). Horacio scoured the battlefield, looking among the dead heretics for those who might still be alive. A quick thump with the maul would make sure they were dead very fast. It wasn't a mercy killing, oh no these men deserved to die. But he knew that as one's last energy escaped them it often left altogether giving some men a chance to give a final pull of the trigger.

A slight whistle was under his lips to take his mind off of the blood coming from his armpit, he had more urgent things to do. He took out his Rosarius and reached for some incense, using the power-field of his power maul to ignite it and let off some smoke. Waving his Rosarius in one hand and swinging the smoke-belching maul in another Horacio walked around the battlefield muttering a simple prayer under his breath. After several minutes of this he finished his words, and went to a clump of the Cekrov Guards. "Oi, you lot." He said, motioning to them with his power maul. "Gather the bodies of the foe, and their weapons. Pile it up so I can burn it. No nicking any of their shit or you'll end up just like them... come on, get to it!" he bellowed, giving a few authoritative waves of his maul to them. Watching them to go on following his not exactly orders because a Priest can't order a soldier but he can do much much worse he picked up a dropped tabac stick of one of the men, and with a single heavy pull finished the entirety of the thing's length.

He followed the troopers, leaning on his maul with his hands on the handle to make a rest for his chin. Noticing the dripping of blood again he reached for a handkerchief he brought with him, rolling the thing up and then squeezing it between torso and arm just as the cleaver not too long ago. With that done he went back to watching the soldiers in their duty, pointing out if they missed an ear or a magazine or knife on the ground, even telling one of the men to get a rag and soak up a puddle of blood in it after he noticed the man's grumbling. When the Guards were finally done he told them to sod off, before going to the foul smelling pile. Horacio removed a tank of promethium from one of the flamers and poured out its remaining contents across what was about to become a pyre leaving a few droplets to make a trail for ignition. He dropped his bloody rag on it, before striking down with his maul again to have the powerful set it all ablaze.

"Dies Irae Dies Illa...." The Confessor sang, letting incense smoke join the foul haze made by all the dead burning. This was a job that had to be done right away. Many worlds thought they dealt with their corruption when they simply killed the heretics and buried them somewhere far off or even dumped their corpses in a forest. But be it plucky children digging in cursed graves or animals consuming flesh of the damned, if improperly disposed of the presence of heresy would always resurface almost cyclically until eventually a loyal world would fall. Finally, with this duty done he put away all his tools of trade and approached his group. He didn't really say anything, he didn't have much energy left in him but he had enough to listen to wherever it was deemed they would go next.

Fallout: Rust and Steel

Mildly concussed but invigorated by all that had so recently transpired, Daniel stepped off to follow the Paladin in clearing the building as ordered. Yet, as he went after the man he found his trigger discipline very poor and the crosshairs of his M14 trained upon the neck of the Paladin. Back on the vertibird, he had without a moment of thought changed his rifle’s ammunition to armour piercing.

At some point after a room or two was checked to be free of foes and the pair was out of speaking-volume earshot of the squad, Daniel couldn’t hold it in anymore. “You had no right to do what you did.” He said, contempt dripping off of his voice.

Slow and groaning, Paladin Moss turned toward the young knight. “You really want to poke that bear, kid? It’s not too late. We both took some hits back there,” Moss offered before, scanning the large open space. An old mess hall, likely. “Maybe I misheard you. Because if I didn’t, well, I might need to rethink your field promotion.”

"Do you even-" started the reply of Daniel, the accusatory words rehearsed several times in his head. Only as his sentence stopped did he come to realize what the Paladin had said. A whole speech was prepared in the green warrior's head about how Moss by his actions spat on his holy book, about how the Brotherhood of Steel was known as a Brotherhood for a reason and that as Paladin he was to be the most gallant and chivalrous of them all. But in five sentences all those words were swallowed and forgotten. "A-a promotion?" he stuttered. Really, climbing the ladder to eventually become Paladin was one of the few things in life Daniel wanted.

He stopped in his tracks, his attitude to the Paladin changing in moments as he was played like a fiddle. But… Something in the Knight's head rebelled. Something that told him to heed the meaning of his rank, to remember who he was and why. That something fought hard and eventually it did manage to push through after compromise with the rest of his mind. Daniel clutched his head as a pang of suffering came from what was his concussion, but felt like his guilt and consciousness. It settled down though, and through heavy breathing the Knight asked the Paladin a question. "Alright, alright… just, please, Sir. Be honest with me. If you were in a similar situation where us coming to get you was a great risk for the whole squad, would you understand if we left you behind the same way to save ourselves? Does… Does God forgive us for what we did?"

The question hung in the air. Moss glanced over his shoulder at the unexplored halls and corridors of the facility, which while unknown seemed almost certainly empty. It was a small compound. Perhaps an outpost to stage civilian rescues or some other purpose far removed from combat. No distractions. No escape from the question.

“With my heart I believe and am justified,” the paladin recounted, his voice little more than a sigh. “I walk the path of the Lord, which shall never be put to shame.”

Placing a hand on the young knight’s shoulder, Moss sighed, “A leader must act. There is no room for doubt. Remorse is an intoxicant we cannot afford.” He stepped back and gestured to the entrance. “This place will do for tonight. Rally the squad. We’ll make camp here. Get our bearings and regroup. Once everyone is collected I’ll announce your new role as knight-sergeant. Before you go,” the paladin paused. “Initiate Grimshaw seems surprisingly capable. A skilled sharpshooter. Not the worst role for a female knight, I think. You think she’s ready?”

The Knight's breathing got heavier with every syllable of the Paladin, a hope his words would bring some sort of resolution to all the thoughts going through Daniel's head. He was about to give a salute, before the Paladin asked him a question.

"Well, Sir," he began thoughtfully. "she is a great shot sir, yes. Quick thinking too. I wouldn't have suggested it unprompted but I have no reason not to, now that you mention it. Your judgement, I suppose. Ad Victoriam." he gave the planned salute, before turning on his heels to call the rest of the squad inside.

“Ad Victoriam,” Moss replied before beginning preparations inside.

Fallout: Rust and Steel

Daniel lay where he was after being hit in the warehouse, largely ignorant to anything save the ringing louder than a point blank minigun report in either ear. It died down eventually, and with that came the realization of other things. The dizziness and blurriness assaulting his vision were a two pronged attack that made orienting himself nigh impossible. But he was just about able to make out the Paladin stepping out of the building. Hoping to follow him Daniel got upright, before falling down. Several such false starts recurred before at last he was on his feet. Now then, what was he up to? Oh, yes, following the Paladin. He didn’t notice the arrived horde of ghouls, nor the dust-raising Deathclaws. Getting to the Paladin and the Vertibird, yes that was the mission. It was weird what part of the soldier’s consciousness were working well and which ones weren’t, because the ones to notice this very fact were good as new, not to mention the ones hoping others wouldn’t see the almost drunken way he got to the chopper.

Only getting aboard was more of his mind liberated from his injury and he was becoming slowly aware that Gregory was being left behind from the rest of the squad. All the worse for poor McDowell’s fate, Daniel for now couldn’t process all this. “W...wait….” he managed weakly, the words stifled by a hysterical laugh. It would likely last longer than anybody hearing it through his helmet and the air would find comfortable, but eventually it ended with the young Knight asleep.

---

The lad opened his eyes, instantly noticing several changes in his environment. He was sans helmet, everything outside of the Vertibird was jetblack and he was alone in it. Except… there was that unknown lightsource making everything bright. “No… no. No-no-no-no-no-no!” he cried clutching his head as once more those he believed to be his ancestors materialized around him. His vision though was filled with the images of Gregory now being abandoned to an inevitable death. They were so sharp, the image of the man alone before mutated beasts as though right before him.

“Were we wrong?” a figure in T45 power armour demanded. “Were we wrong?” The phrase echoed through the hundred spectres going well past the confines of the vertibird. “Papa, why did you fail Gregory?” demanded a child by his feet. “Is it the same reason you will fail me?” the girl continued, the movement by words making it apparent a laser scorched her dead just above the cheek. The whole display made Daniel recoil with a high-pitched cry but his attempts to distance himself were in vain. The same man in ancient plate held him by one shoulder and his grandfather by the other. “You dishonour your blood.” The historical Knight said. “You bring shame upon your Brotherhood, upon the family name. You had all those books, all those lessons, all that training; shouldn’t you know better than to be a coward?”

Daniel was squirming in their grips, they were somehow painful through the power armour he himself was wearing. “Please I-” the young Knight started in his defence, but a chorus resounded: “Silence!”

“You disgusting creature.” This was Maria Livesey, another one of Daniel’s grandparents. “We died for the Brotherhood we died for our comrades and what do you do? You run! You cannot live with your failures, you wasted ever more time outside of the ranges on stupid trifles and to what end? You couldn’t hit a damn raider.”

“But-” the young man tried again, only to be cut off by who was apparently a Friar with a rock lodged in his throat. “McDowell, he was a hero. He put himself under the attention and weight of fire of all those heathens but you? You didn’t even attempt to return this act.”

A gob of spit came into the victimized Knight’s eyes, which when cleared revealed a bearded man donning a morion helm leaning upon a pike. “It should have been you, Daniel. It shames me to say it, and I would never have thought anyone else in history could think so. But I wish you my boy, my flesh, my progeny, I wish you would have died instead of the honourable Knight-Sergeant.” Tears were running down his face as if from a faucet, and through gasps for air Esteves just about managed to say “I’m sorry.”

”YOU’RE SORRY?” Daniel’s face was splattered in blood as a decapitated figure in familiarly massive T60 power armour raised him before thrusting him against the wall. He was face to face with a throat squirting more and more blood, but all the ancestors came closer to stare upon him so he could see every long dead pore.

“Is that really all you can say?” a voice hissed in his ear, one he couldn’t turn to reply to. “I don’t think he needs to. He was given everything, but he is worth nothing. Perhaps it better he doesn’t wake up, perhaps it better he no longer burdens his squad and squanders that which he bears?”

“Join us, boy. We would hate your company of course but do it nonetheless.” A voice said. “Oh don’t worry about it my boy, it is damnation for his ilk!” chimed in another. “It would be better than to go on defiling our memory.” His grandparents said as one. “An end to thy guilt, thy misery.” Boomed the plated warrior. Daniel looked down to see that - without any prompt - his recharger pistol had materialized in his hand. His hand was trembling, but through his partial (but present) consent it slowly rose reaching height of his breast. But this ever dramatic moment was interrupted a momentary shake bringing Daniel to consciousness.

---

He was in the Vertibird, but for real this time (or so he hoped). Daniel looked about, seeing they were landing somewhere and in anticipation of exploring unknown grounds the Knight loaded a fresh magazine into his M14, flicking the safety off. The man then disembarked from the vessel, giving a half-hearted “Yes-Sir.” at the orders he was given. He could still feel the effects of his self-diagnosed but likely accurate concussion, but for the most part he was physically much better for the sleep he had. “Lead the way Sir.” He said, tapping his headlamp alight only to remember it was broken and that same spot hurt alot. He cursed under his breath, sprinting for a second to catch up to the Paladin. “On to glory, Ad Victoriam.”

[Storms and Shadows] - A Black Crusade inspired 40k Chaos RP.

@Lady Selune from your character's description it didn't seem they're the combat sort so you shouldn't be really worried about competing with immortals?