Sigma — Roleplayer Guild

Dathu Space
Occupied Territories
Regional Capital of Rendilla

Dozens of large holo-projection screens hung over throughout the Capital City Crishi as they broadcasted war footage of Yanthu forces overtaking worlds of the Border Regions, all the various and far off battles strung together to form a cohesive story of propaganda and Dathu-centric nationalism, loud and victorious music booming throughout the skyscrapers of Crishi, as the footage cycled through wartorn and devastated cities littered with the corpse of dead terrans and non-dathu xenos that dare stand in their way, battalions of Yanthu servitors marching through the streets triumphantly, led by their victorious Dathu Overseers, followed by the Dathu Hiivefleets looming over the shattered remains of overwhelmed enemy star fleets, many more images of similar in nature cycled through and through, all the the while, chorus cheering rang out throughout the city as millions of Dathu citizens were gathering around these holo-screens. 

"Our Empire grows ever more stronger!" A disembodied voice cried out. "Our valiant brothers and sisters lead the the front in our grand crusade! Terran Worlds fall one by one in the face of our renewed military might!" More cheers followed. "The War, however, is far from over! The Terrans will do whatever it takes to stall our advance! But we will not relent! We will not be stopped! We need Warriors and Leaders like you to keep the Cause alive! Glory to the Cause! Glory to the Queen-Mother! Glory to to the New Empire!"

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Somewhere among the hundreds of transport ships and other assorted vehicles and ships, a lone prisoner transport was passing over the city, the cries loud enough to reach pass the hull for all to hear. John Grispin, the Gaian miner from the Kausis battle, was among such prisoners, for most of the trip between Kausis and Rendilia, John had been completely knocked out from the near constant beatings, his bunk mates suspecting if he was even alive half of the time. The loud cheering rang from the intercom, disrupting his "rest" as he woke up, sore in all sorts of places. "Welcome back to the land of the living." An older man spoke in a grizzled similar southern accent, he walked towards john as he knelt down and extended his hand towards him. "Need help?"

"Uh....Much appreciated." he replied thankfully. "Shit...where are we?"

"Far from home." Another , more feminine prisoner spoke with a strange accent, john turned to face the woman, and much to his disgust, was a xeno, a purple-skinned Narasheen woman, flanking her was a white-furred Aldzir. The older human took notice of John's hostile facial expression. "Easy now fella, we're all in this together. Last we need is killing each other."

"Easy for you for to say.." John said. "We're here because of goddamn xenos!" the Narasheen woman frowned at such a generalization. "Terran, I'd much appreciate it if you didn't lump me and my friend with the bugs. We're no friends of 'em either. Fuckers razed my home just like yours.."

John simply didn't reply, for now, he couldn't care less of the xeno woman's woes and turned his attention back to the other human. "Where they taking us?"

"The "Workers" District.." The old man replied, followed by light chuckle. "Don't let the name fool you, it's pretty much a slave camp and slaughter house rolled in one."

"What in god's name are you on about?!?!" John exclaimed in shock and surprise. "Slaughter house?!!?"

"They work you literally to death." The Narasheen replied. "When you're of no use or too much to handle, they ship you off to be "processed" as they say."

"How the hell do you people even know this..." John asked, trembling.

"Rrrright, forgot to introduce ourselves. " The human man spoke. "Names Ian, Ian Zaamil." Ian then pointed at his Xeno cohorts. "The Narasheen is Jerau and the big fella is Guzia. We're members of the Free Argonis Sector Army."
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