"This is Omninet Market Report - the most trusted name in Business. Today's top story, a roller coaster ride on the market today for Ferrous Polyglobal. The multi-system hive corporation's stock plummeted, then quickly rallied today under heavy trading. Following reports that all attempts at negotiations with the Forest-dwelling Ter'is'kar Psychics for control of their new Coil resources had failed, many investors bailed out of the stock, believing the species burnt out from over expansion.
CEO Argus Nonam scoffed at such reports and released information of the acquisition of Intensity Supernational, a previously barren stretch of space now fully terraformed and fully integrated into Ferrous' Board of Directors system. Mr. Nonam refused to comment on the nature of Intensity's use, or on the heavy presence of Ferrous Security Creche officers, but he did promise that the products coming from the company's 7 jungle planets would profoundly alter life for any species within the span of the Ferrous brand.
He also stated that no further need for negotiation was necessary at this time, and that the next few cycles will bring with them further exciting news for investors in Ferrous Polyglobal."
A message from a different place. From a different People. Unintelligibly faint due to distance. A message nonetheless. The Hshshsahsha are not alone. We move towards others. Others move towards us. We will Share with them, and they will Share with us.
The thoughts raced through the minds of the Hshshsahsha on their worlds. On Hshshsahshahome it swirled around the trunks of the great trees. On Newhome-that-glitters it reverberated against the anvil-hard ground. And on Newhome-that-breathes, the thought stirred and churned through the massive, sighing moss-caves that honeycombed the planet and gave it its name.
The Hshshsahsha danced their dances -- sparks in the darkness, cousins to the stars above.
They all laughed uproariously at the pretension of those thoughts, and the thinker was snuffed out. He was much less serious when next he shone.
Iatham kept his hands folded as he thought. Bare the fangs of Telomere? Perhaps they had some trap set up... The fuel might be useful, but his people did not wish to expand TOO far. But why did they put so much store in their meat? His people could not taste per se, but there really wasn't anything on their home planet that they couldn't eat. Thus, they cultivated and herded the native animals in pens on ships and in sealed domes for their food. He concluded that there was something amiss with the meat.
"Our people do not about taste: on our home planet, smell is useless. The temperature is simply too low to smell or taste anything. We decline the offer of your meat." He took a few breaths... this would be difficult to pull off.
"We also decline your offer of the fuel. As a people, we are slow. Rarely do we branch off from our home planet. We've only been traveling amongst the stars to satiate our curiosities. However, my decisions may be overturned. The Council must vote on this course of action. If you would please leave the Chambers, we will be able to begin voting."
With that done, he turned back towards the center of the circle, and waited for the guards, and the ambassador, to leave.
"That is certainly regretable. Still, I thank you for your time Councilmen. I only hope that we may forge a friendship that is not reliant on commerce and trade." Epsilon turned slowly.
Her mind worked furiously. It had not gone well. They had offered the Telomere nothing of worth in trade yet spit upon her own offer. Perhaps the young council member was more then just an over zealous rabble rouser. Perhaps there was wisdom to be found in his ravings. Still, the way they had delt with them. To murder one of your own was Anathema to the Telomere. Inconcievable. Perhaps... there was precedent amongst the Tchang for it of course. Perhaps the entire scene in the council room was a gambit to lure the Telomere into a sense of security. It was all to much for Epsilon. She had no head for intrigue.
She began a slow dignified walk down the hallway. Taking note of the number and position of guards flanking her. If they were to attempt anything she was well prepared. Safely stored within an endospore lodged in her frontal lobe was an active Telomere XT-T variant. If her body stress levels reached a certain threshold the endospore would dissolve and the Telomere XT-T would take over. Her hope was to give the lizard men an inaccurate assesment of Telomere might. Her death would then serve a purpose.
She hoped it didn't come to that. War was not the goal of the Telomere.
"Are you certain?"
"There can be no doubting it."
"So... diplomacy is out of the question."
"It would seem so."
Theta grinned. With Epsilon gone she would have full control over this operation. She intended to show the Telomere leadership that it took more then knowledge of the histories to be a diplomat. It took a small dose of insanity.
"Bring up the long wave. I've got a message for our new friends."
"What?! We have to inform Alef before we take any action! One wrong move and it's our end!"
"It is our end if we wait to act. These monsters are unlike anything we have encounted before and we can not cling to conventions if we hope to survive them. Bring up the long wave. Now."
"...very well" Reluctantly the messanger did as he was asked.
"ATTENTION WARGH TYRANNY, YOUR REPUTATION PRECEDES YOU. I REPRESENT OMICRON CHAMPION OF THE TELOMERE. WE CHALLENGE THE CHAMPION OF YOUR KIND TO SINGLE UNARMED COMBAT. THE LOSER WILL SURRENDER WITHOUT TERMS TO THE VICTOR. END TRANSMISSION."
Theta signaled the messanger to shut off the long wave. She grinned. It was insane but it was also necessary. If the information networks reports were correct these beasts were war mongers of the highest order. They would not listen to reason. She only hoped that they respected some twisted sense of honor by arms.
"What... have you done?!"
"I have just secured the future of the Telomere in this universe."
"You have just doomed us all! Even the most rudimentry of investigation has revealed the Wargh to be vastly our physical superior! We can not hope to win!."
"I do not hope for victory."
"You would have us forced into surrender to them!?"
"Neither is that my plan." Theta grinned.
A single blaring transmission is recieved by the Telomere, repeated again and again. When repeated, it states:
ATTENTION TELOMERE. THE WARGH EMPIRE HAS RECIEVED YOUR CHALLENGE, AND ACCEPTS. THE APPROPRIATE WARRIOR WILL BE SENT TO YOU SHORTLY. THE REMAINDER OF YOUR MESSAGE WAS DIFFICULT TO TRANSLATE. OUR CHAMPION WILL DISCUSS THIS WITH YOU FURTHER WHEN HE ARRIVES.
The message repeats several times before being replaced with the white noise of dead air.
Deep in his heart Master Riiz had known the Council would spare no ships for Toldo; the system simply had too few Kelari to make it worth defending. His space stations were half-built, his research posts not yet operational; the system's only value was the potential resources within the rocks, and the Council had (wisely, even Riiz admitted) found the lives in the Rift to be of greater value.
Ever the explorer at heart, however, Riiz was not to be cowed by the oncoming Wargh armada. His explorer vessels had reported a vast system nearby, only a short leap away. The new FTL drive designs shown to them by the Starfarers and the Wave would get him there in a year, maybe less if he pushed hard. It was, potentially, suicidal; Riiz knew this, as did his colonists. But, as he had argued to the Council, it would place a part of the Kelari race away from the Wargh's focus, and perhaps better ensure their survival.
And so, into the darkness of Sector 100 did Master Riiz lead the people of Toldo....
****
Meanwhile, the following message is sent to the Starfarers, Combine (secret-like), and Wave.
"Friends of the Kelari, we have won a great victory against the Wargh. Their assault on the Rift, our home, was halted in its tracks, the gears of their war machine grinding to a halt, and it is thanks to the support and resources sent by your people. Together, we were stronger than we ever were alone, and together we stood against a great menace to the galaxy. Though only Kelari soldiers fought, every one of you was with them.
It is our hope that the friendship built in this bloody war will last to its conclusion, for we do not believe that the Wargh will give up after a single defeat. We pray for peace, but we prepare for war. Together, we prevail, and together we endure."
****
(The Battle of the Rift will be chronicled by Horseshoe and I via PM, to be consolidated into a page on the Wiki.)
Mongrel Idiot on
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RankenphilePassersby were amazedby the unusually large amounts of blood.Registered User, ModeratorMod Emeritus
edited December 2006
It was not long after the jump to space that the real tragedy struck. An unforseen catastrophe, brought about by the desire to expand, the desire to know, the desire to share, would bring about the end of the Na'ar.
Bravely they ventured forth into the beyond, seeing for the first time the majesty of the galaxy spread out before them, and within their reach. They drank in the awe and splendor of this great cosmic ballet, of seeing The Dust in it's most awesome manifestation surrounding them and offering them limitless opportunity for wonder and reflection.
Alas, their eagerness would also spell their doom.
It began on the binary planet system they named Ar'nuria, the first system they discovered to be hospitable after they left Ruia. There they found organisms far beyond their understanding and comprehension.
Unfortunately, the organisms also found them. It took a while, but the Na'ar soon became sick. Some fled back to their home world, while others continued their quest for the stars. It was too late, however, as their fate was sealed.
Within weeks, nearly every member of the Na'ar species was dead.
There may be a few survivors, those who managed to be immune to the plague that swept through the race, ravaging their numbers and wiping the once great culture from the cosmos forever.
Thus ends the tale of the Na'ar, and so ends their influence on the galaxy at this most pivotal time in history.
"The very concept of faster then light drives are a scientific impossibility! As matter accelerates towards this universal constant the amount of energy required becomes infinite. This is a FACT! It can not be overturned!" The grey Cilid's yellow eyes seemed exhausted as he continued his report, his back fin flopped a bit with his show of emotion. Before him was some of the most important scientific minds in the Cilid Empire. The five sat in simple metal chairs behind a long wooden table. Each was older and more colorful then the next.
A colorful red cilid stood up from his chair. "Just as it's a 'fact' the universe revolves around Antalla? Just as it's a 'fact' that everything is made of water at the fundamental level? Just as it's a fact that nothing is more basic then atoms, or quarks?" He sat back down quite smug.
The dull Cilid's eyes seemed deep with anger, but he remained cold in his response, "You mock my work, but the math stands..."
"Your math is garbage in light of the evidence that has been presented. Why are you so insistent? We stand on the brink of a scientific revolution and you... you and every damned dul..." The blue one caught himself before he spewed forth a racial epithet.
He calmed himself "Professor please. Your work is widely respected, but we've given you every piece of evidence we have. The Freudenberg equation. The Spencer fuel. The charts do not lie. The scientific community is in consensus of this possibility. What more evidence do you need?"
The grey one looked on each of the colorful cilids, his deep yellow eyes meeting each of them. They were like a rainbow. He quietly spoke his demand, "I want to see it."
A few of them jumped when he said that. A yellow one spook first, "We don't know what you're talk..."
The center Green one, the chairman, interrupted, "The professor is a very well respected mathematician, and if showing it to him will quiet his... objections."
Red angrily objected "That is a MILITARY project! It is highly classified."
"For too long this committee has been criticized for being... unprogressive towards the greater social erg concerns of the populace. If bringing Professor Damoc on board will assuage some of the criticisms..."
Green looked to the others, then deep into the yellow eyes of Professor Damoc, "This is, of course, um, contingent, on a background check, but ahem, if we show you the device will you agree to the scientific, uh, consensus."
Professor Damoc's eyes blinked twice before he nodded.
----
Later that evening Professor Damoc sat alone in his darkened office. He took out a tube from his desk and fiddled with it a bit before jamming it straight into his mouth.
UPLINK established to relay 400 rotation 6020
Encrypting channel rotation 6021
Uploading video footage rotation 6022
The Cilids were definitely working on something, but the machine had been right in his report. They were years away from a working drive, perhaps decades. Still, it had accomplished its mission. There was even a chance of getting on the scientific board in a few years. From there it'd have access to the entire scientific community of Cilid. It could wait, time was a resource the Damocles had plenty of.
*Ferrous Polyglobal, your source for everything under every sun!*
"Greetings Galaxy! I am PR creche representative Niwad Profit! Argus Nonam regrets being unable to speak to you personally, as he is in deliberations with the Board of Directors.
Our long range sensors have located a vast number of you in the last 5 cycles AB, and it is our hope that Ferrous Technologies will find a home in every one of your markets! With this in mind, I have been asked to present some of the most exciting news about our recent ventures!
Ferrous brood mothers have successfully filled a new system with members of the Production and Management creches. This system, a frozen stretch of planetoids orbiting a dead sun, promises the most strenuous testing region for all of our technologies. The super-cooled surfaces also promise the most advanced computing systems known in the galaxy. As such this system has been rebranded as Cybercore Intelligence, your premier source for Artificial Intelligence programs.
Aesir announces the development of the new Interplanetary Cybernet! A system that promises rapid communication through the Corporation subsidiaries and a vast aid to researchers in any system. With the aid of our recently discovered Crystal Coils, Investors can be assured that exciting new Technologies are soon to be forthcoming from Ferrous Polyglobal!
Finally, as many of you already know, Ferrous has created an exciting new channel for our Holonet view systems! Creep! a network with the non-bipedal Species in mind! Broadcast in Ultra-def, 38 binaries per day-cycle, Creep! will be the first and last channel your tentacle ever needs to touch!
Trade representatives of many of your Civilizations should be on the look out for messages from CEO Nonam himself, dutifully transported by my fellow PR creche members. Remember, Ferrous Polyglobal isn't selling you your life, we're selling you a better one!"
Within one of the newly discovered sectors, a small planet, roughly half the size of Earth's moon, orbits a red star. Although it seems an ordinary barren world at first glance, closer inspection reveals that it is artificial, bristling with small thrusters, mechanical arms, and other such things. Deep inside this metal world, a man sits at a massive and advanced computer console, wired into the world's many systems.
He's attractive by human standards, about 6 feet tall, and has fire-red hair, an indicator of who he is. This is P-1-Alpha, the leader of the Time Divers and pilot of their home, the colossal auto-planet starbase designated Judecca.
"This will be suitable, then. Engage awakening procedures for crew designates Alpha through Eta."
Elsewhere in the ship, five massive doors open, revealing a thousand small tubes behind each door. 5000 humanoids, half male, half female, emerge from the tubes. There are only 10 individual appearances, 2 for each clone group, male and female, and they all have violet-blue hair, every single one.
The Time Divers have awakened. As for what reason, even they don't know.
Uncoded message to the Starfarers and the Combine.
"Friends of the Kelari, brothers in the stars, it is our hope that this war which has begun between you will soon cease, and we offer our services to negotiate a peace between you.
"Know that the Kelari remember the friendship of the Starfarers when our need was dire, and that, should the aggression of the Combine prove tenacious, we will step forth to aid our beleaguered and peaceful brethren in defending their homes.
"Let us stand as brothers lest we die as enemies. Together we are stronger than we ever are apart."
My friends my fellow Starfarers I do not have much time to sing with you as this galaxy is full of life and not all of it friendly we have made contact with the Combine and it is not good they will attack us in The Dark Place of Many Moons and Peace and we cannot hope to defend it so we will abandon it let them have it and hope it has a calming influence on the small ones as it has had on us though there is a good chance that it will not and with this is mind we must turn our attentions to bolstering our defences further luckily our kelari friends have offered us new knowledge that will be of aid but it is not enough and we must look for more
- Hyperwave psychic broadcast from Riossinnammellannorra, third Llerroammenna of the Starfarers
Hello humans of The Combine we Starfarers hope you enjoy your newly acquired system we had dubbed it The Dark Place of Many Moons and Peace though you will surely change that name nevertheless it is our hope that you will find here the same peace that we did and perhaps come to understand that these ways of violence and aggression can lead only to destruction for us all please revel in the beauty you have forced us to leave behind and be happy and at peace if you do this you will all be welcome in Starfarer space as friends and equals to be respected not enemies and villains to be reviled
- Message for Combine forces occupying Rommimmallonnessansalla
Grid System on
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INeedNoSaltwith blood on my teethRegistered Userregular
edited December 2006
Xenocide Eric returns home to Sol, dismayed to discover that during his vacation the Council had deemed it necessary to assault the Starfarer at Riossinnammellannorra ("R-whatever", his head vizier calls it,) and lost the support of the Wave (and when did we last hear from Civilization One?).
Eric gathers those few in his empire he trusts - his personal viziers, who have been with him since the beginning; his personal technicians, whom he trusts more than any others; the officers of the Golden Horde, the elite Infantry unit that he has fought beside for seventy years.
And with them, he plans.
He plans to destroy the council, destroy the citizen/civilian divide, destroy the hate propaganda.
High Xenocide Eric Schindler has spoken enough with the Kelari, the Civilization One, even the Wargh to understand that war will not bring Humanity to prosper. Not now, and likely not ever.
"Send no transmissions," said Groth, "and block any transmissions directed toward the Empire. No contact, radio silence on all unsecured channels."
"Do you wish leave 'structions for--"
"You will do as I instruct and nothing else!" the General screamed at his officer. "I have been summoned to Rhok'Tal, and no actions will be taken in this matter until I return. Has my transport ship been readied?"
"Aye, Gen'ral."
Groth snarled and marched off to his ship, his long, coarse gray hair trailing behind him. His men were beginning to question his authority since challenge to his clan leadership had been issued from the homeworld. He was the oldest Wargh in all their history, and he intended to hold that title a while longer.
P-1 sat at the massive console in the heart of Judecca, monitoring the communications from Gamma's exploration expeditions, Beta and Delta's research work, and Alpha and Eta's asteroid mining.
They had discovered a new system{103}, and adding that to the one that they obtained earlier, they had three systems. The newest one was to be named Ezekiel. It had only one planet, fairly large and bountiful with life, with some decent mineral deposits. The planet seemed that it would make a good colony, and was named Kanaf.
The one claimed before{204} was named Tolar, it had an odd belt of small planets, bigger than asteroids, and a few even had atmosphere. There were 8 of them, all in about the same orbit around the star. Although Judecca deemed the risk of the planets colliding was too great for any sort of settlement, they were a bountiful research opportunity.
Hails came in from team AE and team BD, stating that they were on the brink of major breakthroughs. P-1 smiled; Gamma had reported what appeared to be signs of other civilizations near Ezekiel, and any breakthroughs would undoubtedly be most helpful when it came to dealing with them.
The Hshshsahsha danced and spun across their five worlds. They skirled under the trees of Hshshsahshahome. They raced and shone around Newhome-that-glitters. They congregated at the cave-mouths of Newhome-that-breathes. They waltzed blithely through the ruins that speckled Newhome-that-was. They dove and wove through the thick gasses of Newhome-that-is-not. They strained joyfully against the vast gravity well of the planet they had dubbed Newhome-that-pulls.
We are not alone in this 3rd/4thplace. Others. Many others not Hshshsahsha. Do they dance? Will they Share? All Share. It is the way. They will learn to Share with Hshshsahsha, and Hshshsahsha will Share with them. What if they do not? The rock-thinkers and the others-who-read4thspace and the distant-metal-ones did not seem interested in Sharing. They will Share. They move differently through 4thplace than we. Give them -- what do they call it? -- time. If they do not Share? They will Share. One way or another, they will Share. It is the only way.
A new meme among the Hshshsahsha. This is the way we were/are/will be, in that 3rd/4thplace.
---
Greetings. The Hshshsahsha wish you good dancing among the stars. Come Share with us, and we will Share with you. We would know more about you. We would have friends in the depths of space. We wish for peace. We will meet you in the 3rd/4thplace of your choosing.
--Message implanted into the minds of the leaders of the various races of the galaxy.
Scytelos was doing his daily rounds. As a Noble under the Xerademus family he was primarily a scientist, and being one of the nobles closest to the family he was allowed to keep his original mind, and his body was only slightly altered from normal Visculon phisiology. Scytelos was as always, working very hard, as he didn't want to dissapoint his Xerademus overseers as this generally led to being Brain Soldered and being sent to work in the womb forges (after the neccesary genetic modification into a flesh slave), Scytelos really didn't want to dissapoint his masters.
Scytelos checked over his current project, from the observation deck he could see his many underlings tending over the vats. Inside the vats were the new breed of Xerademus guard. Genetically engineered clone soldiers, a personal army of the Xerademus family. Every family had such an army, the new challenges and threats of the galaxy demanded it, although the Xerademus were using their extensive genetic knowhow to improve their guard beyond those of the other families. Scytelos moved on, down the brightly lit corridors of the research station. He had lived on this floating lab, out in the vast seas of Vitunas III, since it was built. The familiar corridors led him to the test chamber, as he went very day.
The new prototype was here, fresh from the vats where it had spent the first year of it's life, in accelerated growth and with it's brain directly connected to the training simulator. The clone stood before Scytelos, an imposing figure, taller than he was and looking much like any other Visculi apart from it's unusual bald head. It was in fact custom designed for battle, with a stronger and more durable body, faster regeneration and several other genetic modifications to make it the ultimate Visculi soldier. Utterly and unquestioningly loyal, this guard would follow any order of it's master. Despite it's appearance, this was not a Visculi, it was a tool. A tool of battle. Scytelos examined this new specimen, making a few notes on his datapad.
Those of descending, hear that which has descended. Blood for blood, treachery for treachery, soul for soul. Those who die shall be remembered by those who live. Be with me, Aldaera, so I may strive to be with you. May Fate be done. May Balance be achieved. May Existence be sought. Guide the hand of your servant, so that Aesho will be filled. Soul for soul, we send to you. The Aldaera will be served, honor will be brought.
Soul for soul.
Soul for soul.
Danger lurked in the black.
The Tribune sat quietly, passively as wars waged around them. Empires were formed and fallen, civilizations made and broken. Only thirty and five spins of the Hadräl-valar and around them the blackness was molded by the Others. The Tribune sat quietly.
Internally, it was chaos. The revelation that the Graces had crafted other beings, other servants was foundation shattering. The Temple had reeled in shock, a blow to everything they believed and taught. It was blasphemy that those who were not Aesho walked the black, it was unthinkable. The Temple had always told, had always claimed that they were the only Graced. These others were abominations; foul creatures dredged up from Nidaguk, the Temple claimed. But the faith and traditions of the Temple had been shaken, prophesies were found false. For the first time, the Domän Kwiets did something that was never thought possible... they questioned their traditions and beliefs. The Tribal Council saw the Temple's power weakened and moved to increase their own.
And so, as the Temple called for holy wars and extermination of the abominations, the Domän Kwiets did nothing. The Tribune slowly began to right itself, oblivious to the outside world. The wounds were healed, the power vacuums were filled. Explanations were created and believed. The Others served as a balance, a counter-weight. The Graces had crafted the legion of Others to balance the almighty power and wisdom of the Tribune. So the Tribune stabilized and healed, an old creature learning new tricks.
The Immortal Ka stayed above the internal politics and mad grabs for increased power. He was, and ever shall be, the true leader and seer of the Domän Kwiets. The half-dead, half-living Lord of the Domän Kwiets had seen much during the span of the Tribune and knew such things were fleeting. A moment and they were gone. The Tribune would endure. It always has, always would.
The Immortal Ka opened his eyes. Before him sat the Nine Oracles of the Temple around one side of the table. On the other sat the Eleven Aath Dal, leaders of the Eleven Tribes. In the middle sat the representatives from the Vannis Circles, the advisory bodies that assisted both the Tribunal Council and the Temple with administrative duties. The Aath Dal for the Syath Tribe was speaking, loudly. "The Tribune has sat back and done nothing about this blight, this insult to the glory of our people. If Temple Markers have found artificial constructs inside the Circle of Learning, we must react!"
"Foolishness, we cannot advocate violence towards Those Who Are Not. We have no idea of their strength or abilities," the Aath Dal for Tiron Tribe said, "We cannot blindly commit forces. My Warlord has advised-"
"To sit back and do nothing is an insult to our Ancestors. Those Who Are Not are artificial mockery of the gods. The Eleven Divines cannot stand these... these heathens." One of the Oracles stood, pointing a finger at the Tiron Aath Dal. "Too long have we grown soft and complacent! I think the Tribes have forgetten the taste of battle. The river of souls to Aesho has dried, our ancestors no longer have servants!"
"If we've grown soft it is the Divine Temple's fault. You've taught us falsities and woven mistrust into our culture, we-" The Falsha Aath Dal was cut off.
"You dare insult the Temple of the Divines? Have you forsaken the Eleven altogether? You are fool of your ancestors and-"
"Enough." The Immortal Ka quietly uttered the word and all fell silent in an instance. "I wish to hear the Circle of Arms."
The Circleman bent his head to the Immortal Ka. "Evermore Prophet, the Arms Circle is in agreement. After investigating the matter, the Markers have indeed uncovered a creature from Those Who Are Not. The Markers have swept the Circle of Learning with the help of Tribunal Armsmen and found a sophisticated operation. Research has been filtered to Those Who Are Not. There could be more throughout the Circles, Tribes and Temple. We've ordered the Armsmen to carefully investigate all those of importance but these constructs are complicated."
The Tiron Aath Dal stood and bowed to the Immortal Ka. "Knowing Eye, my warlords and advisers are of the opinion that these could be from anyone, not just Those Who Are Not. The Tribe of Tiron advises caution."
"Prudency is a wise suggestion that bears heeding, Aath Dal." The Aath Dal beamed at this but the Immortal Ka proceed. "Inaction is not. The Tribune has long been governed by stern and cold fist, a fist that rules its own people. If this was in error or not is a debate for the teachers. We now rule the Tribune with a weak and shaky fist, torn over our own mistakes. We are not infallible beings, as much as the Temple would like to think. We have erred and the Eleven Divines accept this. What we will not accept is complacency."
The Immortal Ka rose to his full height. "The Tribune has been silent in the void. We have now been insulted and shunned. This will not happen. The scale has been tipped with an insult, we must balance it. We will bring the house of Those Who Are Not down. We will conduct a Purge."
The Tiron Aath Dal stared at the Immortal Ka and started shouting loudly, "A Purge? You want to conduct a Purge? We are weak, we are not strong enough to conduct a purge! This is an act of fools-"
"WE. ARE. THE. TRIBUNE." The Immortal Ka's voice shook the room and he appeared to become a terrible and horrid figure, towering above them all. Everyone sank into their seats in terror. "And Tiron would do well to remember it!"
"Yes, yes, Forever One."
"We will strike fast and hard, a spear into the heart of Those Who Are Not. The Temple shall commit the hal'Draal, the Council shall call forth the Tribunal Navy and Reserve. I expect full commitment of your tribal military. Exchange Circlemen."
"Yes, All Immortal?"
"We shall seek forth allies in this struggle. The Circle of Exchange shall conduct operations to convince the nearest Others to Those Who Are Not that they would do well to enter this championship of arms. The Tribune will meet victory."
The Immortal Ka's massive headpiece swept the room. Soul for soul," he intoned.
"Soul for soul," the room repeated.
Soul for soul.
In the system of Fal Toroth, a Syath Tribe planet, a fleet gathered. War cruisers and dreadnoughts of the Tribunal Navy collected together, with carriers from the Tribes of Syath and Falsha interspersed throughout the fleet. Dozens of transports carrying two legions of hal'Draal Disciples were escorted by Iriondo Tribe frigates. Tribal assault troops from Tiron and Loomar boarded long, angular crafts on the world of Fal Dii. The Warlord appointed to head the Purge stood on the deck of his dreadnought. It was time. He crushed a handful of incense and threw the cloud in his face. Breathing deeply, he felt his body open up. "Be with us, almighty Divines. Somtaaw, guide our hands. Se'jet, guide our minds. Soul for soul," he whispered.
"Lord Ki'toan, last ship from Fal Dii has cleared orbit."
"Begin our jumps. Immortal Ka, we, who are about to die, salute you. Soul for soul!"
Behind him, the command deck shouted in unison, "Soul for soul!"
P-1 was deep in thought. First, they had obtained signals from 2 more species, then he got that psychic message from another, then the mining teams found this warp ore that boosted the speed of the exploration team's craft. Deciding that the discovery of other such resources would be key, P-1 directed the research team to improve the surveying tech as soon as possible. The more such items the Time Divers had, the better. For now, he directed the other teams to continue as they were.
P-1's head hurt. The shock of having a random psychic message shoved into your head tends to do that. Still, whoever sent it didn't seem hostile, but you never know. He attempted to locate the source of the message, intending to send a reply.....
I'll do the in character for the war, I just had to get this culture stuff.
-- Grace was raised by hippie parents, a practitioner of yoga and an adherent of Eastern spiritualities. Damoc is a robot. They married each other on their first date.
WACKY COMEDY ENSUES!
Grace is on the coffee table in a modest apartment. The camera looks down at a worried robot.
Robot: "Grace get down from that table!"
Grace: "Why don't you come UP here?"
Robot: "Does not compute!"
====
The Damocles stared intently at their video screens. Is this some sort of attack? Maybe a virus or a means of warning the rest of the galaxy of their coming attack? They kept watching.
Grace and the Robot are now on the table.
Robot: "This does not compute!"
Save incoming transmission to analysis failure rotation 7201
Four months later the Cilids receive their first transmission from system 163
THE reality TV show of the century. He is a wealthy Robot bachelor.
Camera zooms over a bunch of Cilid Females These 50 ladies are all have one shot to win his marriage.
But to do it. They must defeat the ultimate Challenge
Picture of an exploding Volcano. VOLCANO WEDDING SURVIVOR!
Pictures of Ladies running from exploding lava all in wedding dresses.
An awkward silence filled the crowded communications chamber after watching the Damocles transmission. After a moment a younger Cilid spoke up.
"So... what do you think this means?"
"I... I have absolutely no idea. I'd suggest we send out a representative on an emissary craft but they may end up being forced to wed a robot or something equally... well, I cannot begin to imagine"
Laughter pattered around the room and was but was cut short by a sudden noise coming from outside the hall.
KABWWWWAP!
An aging Cilid, orange fin now fading, peered out of the window, "Sounds like they've gotten out the supressors already, I don't know what those dullheads' problem is".
The rest of the Cilids looked at eachother awkwardly. Husra was stuck in his ways and too old to change now but his attitudes towards Common Cilid protestors still grated on the younger council members.
Sticking a leaf into his mouth Husra began to chew on it as he spoke. "If it's not complaining about the content of our transmissions to aliens it's about our treatment of Kulan relics. If they're not there to look after it then it's not theirs! Really, you should see the Kulan tomb-mask I have in my corridor, it has the most exquisite..."
"Excuse me, but aren't we getting sidetracked here?" piped up a blue Cilid.
Husra huffed lightly and sat himself back down at the table.
memo from the Board of Directors:
In a mere 15 cycles AB you of the Aesir management creche have proved your worth many times over. Your Brood mother has been most heavily rewarded, and your vacation period on our newest Space Arc, the Spearous mk. III is ensured for a full 3 standard day periods and promotions are sure to follow the removal of your unneeded appendages for increased productivity and leadership. Your work along with that of the newest in Cybercore intelligence systems has ensured an outstanding surge in market share and profit margins. Never before has a corporation controlled the credit of so many. Our brand names and our PR creche members have infiltrated every niche in every market. One thing before basic motor function is returned: Executive 23 Travel Caan, immediately file your report on the activities of the creatures now named Fuzzel Babies on system corporation Pursuit of Hugs. Justify their need for a complete system devoted to the entertainment of the young in regards to cuddliness and lovability. Is their language appropriate for a Teleweb production? Are their furs suitably soft to produce a line of clothing and dolls? The Board demands this within the next 10 mindthoughts.
The exchange had gone well, all things considered. Although the Time Divers' view of reality was about at the farthest end of the spectrum away from the strange, transdimensional Ahsha's mystical perspective, there was some sort of odd kinship. Drifting spirits and pastless clones from an unknown place, who'da thunk it.
P-1's attention now turned to the new developments: the crystal world called Septuagint and the strange matter harvested from the planet cluster in the Tolar system.
Septuagint was, according to every calculation Judecca could do, something that shouldn't be. Everything about it, from it's enormous size, freakish structure, and bizarre position in a very tight orbit around a blue supergiant, was completely impossible, and yet there it was, with a surface temp hot enough to boil the strongest metal available and a radioactivity level high enough to cook a steak through a meter of lead. The properties of the crystals would be a boon in every way imaginable, from armor to weaponry to power sources, but even being near it could kill you extremely quickly. The only thing that could conceivably survive on the planet would be the formless Ahsha, and even they would probably suffer the effects of the gravity, radiation and heat simply due to the sheer magnitude.
The odd matter was something different. Although it was a great power source, it only seemed to be able to be harnessed for weapons systems, as if it was meant for that purpose and that purpose only. Clone batch Epsilon was awakened to study the substance, although P-1 doubted that they could rig it into anything other than a weapon.
The current clone teams(Alpha, Beta, Gamma, Eta, Delta) were nearing the end of their lifespans. P-1 put in the command to have Zeta, Theta, Iota, Kappa and Lambda batches on standby, ready to be awakened when the first five started to expire. The Time Divers had no mind for mourning, there were always more work to be done, and more clones to replace the dead, even for P-1.
The leader of the Time Divers looked to the smaller cloning machine behind him, marked P. 30 vats, each featuring either a man or woman, identical to the clone batch that they shared their name with, Alpha through Omega, except for their fire-red hair.
Time Diver Pilots were distinguished by more than their hair and the P designation, they were stronger, smarter, faster, and their lives were far longer. They had to be. Judecca cannot function without a pilot, and the abilities of a standard Diver are insufficient.
The Kwiets answer rockets across the stars from the Khalis after a long deliberation. A one manned ship crewed by one of the Kwiets’ greatest minds has been allowed to travel through the jump gates all the way to the heart of the Qen: Khalis itself. The Qen jump gates seemed formed from living rock, hollow asteroids floating in space forming small breaks in the starry blackness stretching in all directions. A Qen accompanies the person sent, guiding them along the journey, but remaining introspective itself. It glows warmly along the journey, during which grows a tiny crystalline pendant in the shape of Se’jet from what would appear to be a single unbroken emerald. The pendant is finger sized and filled with detail that is literally microscopic, in the right light shining brightly from the eyes. The crystal draws and reflects light from within, focusing the light to detail the features of the figure. It is left on the ship as a gift.
The trip itself is uneventful, and gives great opportunity for introspect on the part of the emissary. The space here seems even colder, the single white dwarf a mere pinpoint in the sky as he descends the windblown atmosphere onto Khalis – V. The sky is a whirr of blue dust whirring across massive crystalline towers. Torn through the ground are massive chasms lined with crystals, as if focusing channels of some unseen river. Pensive stone creatures, leviathan in scope meander in slow large steps like stone elephants the size of cities.
One chasm in particular seems to run deep, eventually having a ceiling of crystalline so thick that it must run to the very core of the earth itself. The fist-size crystal accompanying the emissary leads him down into this chasm where he’s forced to disembark, and perform the rest of the journey on foot.
As the Doman Kwiet traverses a comfortable footpath, it seems to stretch for hundreds of miles ahead of him and is lit by refraction and reflections from crystals of every color. Although the journey seems to be an immeasurable distance, the time it takes to traverse seems disproportionately short, and not nearly long enough to investigate all the mysteries of light. The crystals begin to take more of an auburn and amber shade the deeper he goes, and deep within this central chasm, the line between mind and body seem to blur. What is and isn’t meld and what can only be tricks of light, holograms, or disembodied souls dance and flow rhythmically around the crystals while rivers of ethereal glow twist and wind below crystalline bridges.
Finally, the emissary steps around a crystalline wall and his vision is assaulted by an interruption in color. A massive emerald colored crystal, towering past perspective and cradled by jagged light, sits buried across one more chasm. Light dances slowly within forming sparkling waterfalls and massive curved shapes in a variety of hues. It speaks softly in a voice that seems to come from within, “You have traveled to a place a proud few have seen. Thought itself is focused here. The stars have sung to us all, and we respond meekly answering something beyond.â€
ATTENTION CILIDS. YOUR ATTEMPT TO SUBVERT OUR EMPIRE WITH YOUR HOSTILE TRANSMISSIONS HAS NOT BEEN SUCESSFUL. YOU HAVE THEN FOLLOWED WITH A STATEMENT THAT THIS ACT OF WAR WAS NOT AN ACT OF WAR. YOU ARE UNCLEVER LIARS.
YOU SHALL NOT ATTEMPT FURTHER COMMUNICATIONS OF ANY KIND WITH THE WARGH OR SUFFER THE WRATH OF THE ARMADA. YOU WILL BE CONTACTED AT A LATER TIME BY THE EMPIRE SO THAT WE MAY HEAR YOUR FURTHER PLEAS FOR MERCY.
IN THIS INTERVENING PERIOD, YOU WILL BE SPARED WAR SO LONG AS THE EMPIRE HEARS NO MORE FROM YOU.
Valas Jarginci, heir to the Jarginci Abbmus and the current representative in the council, was becoming impatient.
"We have known of these creatures for years now! And yet we DO NOTHING to halt the growing infestation! We sit on our hands while these THINGS spread ever closer along our territories, they take fiefs that are RIGHTFULLY OURS!"
The council chambers erupted.
Aisepi Harvannus stood and the chamber quietened down.
"The matriachy of the Harvannus agrees. These creatures are an abomination, a threat to what we as Visculi know to be true."
Stryus Xerademus, a clone of the Xerademus patriach recognised as the Xerademus representative of the council, joined the growing voice of dissent at the council's inaction.
"Indeed, we know the innate superiority of the Flesh, that we are the true path to perfection. These things are a mockery of not only us, but of ALL LIFE!"
Ratilum Vilcen stood, a hush fell over the chambers.
"We made a choice! We shall stand by this choice! But we have recieved word this morning, the spread of the infestation has halted."
Relief spread across the chamber. The waiting was over.
"On this day we begin the harvest! On this day the combined strength of the Visculi Families shall come to bear on the abomination! The time has come to remove the infestation! THE HARVEST HAS BEGUN!"
The council cheered.
"THE HARVEST HAS BEGUN!"
Ratilum struck his knife down into one of the papers on the council desk, on that paper was the image of the abomination. A creature composed of a crystaline material. It was known as "QEN"
council notes- the members for Lycurken and Soratius are curiously absent.
Twisting crystalline towers are growing in system 121 on the moon furthest from the sole gas giant that rotates this yellow star here. Trancelike and unassuming, the Qen on this moon are using their energies to further focus their minds and build chapels with which to build it. Mercurial oceans wrap around crystal citadels an opaque cinnabar interspersed with pristine clear crystal, fountains of liquid silver cascading in brilliant sheens. The crystals themselves filled with brave Qen who have traveled far to probe the mysteries of the universe.
A lone Son Qen sits at the heart of the largest of the citadels when it hears the psychic screams of minds rending. The perimeter explorers have been rounded up and captured in this sudden attack. It has come too fast to evacuate, and the Son Qen is now aware of the looming battle ships beginning to surround the moon.
Too soon, too soon! The Son Qen orders the remaining Qen survivors to escape the thin atmosphere and to try and return to the rest of the Qen space proper. The Son Qen itself calls the rest of the Qen explaining the events afoot.
The evacuees are too slow and the Son Qen isn't powerful enough to fight off the invaders. Visculi troops land and as the Qen are preparing to leave the thin atmosphere, they are caught and shot where they stand. Young Qen, taking the forms of small four legged bodies or humanoid shells are gunned down as they flee the mercurial tides. The Son Qen manages to destroy many of the invaders with psychic waves, but it's too late. The Son Qen is destroyed and the surface of the planet captured. They capture and harvest the homes of the Qen and the corpses left behind. The few Qen surviving are summarily grinded "alive" into substituent crystal parts.
The dying Qen emit a psychic scream that spreads systems wide, loud enough that even the Visculi can feel it inside as a tingling. They, however, mistake it for the rush of victory, not the shudders of a dying people.
OOC: Edit: Retconned a bit
EDIT: More story!!
Years ago:
The young Admiral Franklin Mallory was well known for his exemplary military service and heroic war efforts. Single handedly delivering the final blow to the Earth’s Flag Ship in the last days of the war and personally quelling the Jupiter colonies uprisings by the age of 32, he found himself contemplating the stars. Forever he had prayed for an end to the war so he could finally relax, but his mind was a jumble. He felt confused—the years of constant war have done nothing to soften his blood lust.
“I’m going for a ride,†he explained to the captain of the D’artagnan, a ship he was staying on during an undetermined interim. This was nothing unusual, as it was well known that the Admiral missed the glory days when he was a pilot and not cooped up in this leadership position. He would keep flying just to stay on the edge. As per regulations, he was stuck with an escort of sixaces following him. He would try to duck them, and usually he could pull it off, but there wasn’t anything nearby for him to duck behind, so he made for the belt.
The six aces were forced to play this annoying cat and mouse game with the Admiral. Nothing happened to the Admiral, but the men’s jobs were being put into serious jeopardy. The Ace pilots would follow him to the ends of the universe. Mallory was ducking in and out of the asteroid belt, trying to lose his determined escorts when the amazing happened. He wasn’t being careful enough; he was pushing himself more than he should. He clipped the edge of an asteroid tearing off a wing and tumbled into space.
The aces pursued confused. They didn’t know what to do. On one hand, Admiral Mallory could die. On the other hand, so could they. But they were pros, and as such, they continued on their mission. Mallory was going to meet his end in what must have been an obsidian asteroid. You could only see it because it blotted out the stars. But an amazing thing happened: there was no crash or explosion. Mallory vanished. The aces approached and vanished into the inky blackness as well. And then the hole in space was gone.
Recently:
Frozen in a realm of pure thought, color, and song, The Seven barely took notice of their surroundings as they floated trapped and stuck. Years felt like hours, hours like seconds. Recently, now that humanity and the other races have spread beyond their systems, the black nebulous hole opens up and spit The Seven straight into the Qen system of Behemoth.
The Seven were picked up, and their long exposure to the astral were a mystery to the Qen. They were treated amazingly well and spend the next few years being taught about the universe from the perspective of the Qen. Coming to understand something beyond and above, The Seven found that they could access the same realms and powers that made the Qen more than just rocks. When the Visculi decimated the Qen outpost at System 121, The Seven heard and offered to return to Mars and seek help for the Qen. Outfitted with a great crystal ship, numerable trade goods, and several Qen servants, they returned to Mars as emissaries. The Seven’s return were of great event to The Combine, and as emissaries, they were empowered to give systems and impart some knowledge to the rest of the humans, with a deeper goal to spread this greater truth and assist the Qen.
Upon their return, they had found that things weren’t quite like they remembered, and yet they petitioned to do what they could to put human influence in Qen space.
OOC: INNS, it's up to you. If you want the humans to use this knowledge, take the systems I'm offering, and help destroy the Qen empire, that's your perogative. If you want to come help, that's it too.
piL on
0
INeedNoSaltwith blood on my teethRegistered Userregular
edited January 2007
The Seven had willingly agreed to do what they could to help the Qen, but they warned them several times before they left; Humanity was not understanding. Humanity was cruel and hateful. Nothing should be expected. Franklin himself thanked the Qen for their hospitality over the years regardless, and wished them the best - he didn't expect to ever see his benefactors again.
And then the seven left.
MIRACLE! WAR HERO RETURNS AFTER DECADES LOST MALLORY'S SEVEN RECOVERED! ACE PILOTS RECOVERED AFTER YEARS IN ALIEN PRISON
The press was enthused, and the press lied, and humanity raged against the cruel aliens who would steal away their war heroes, the proud boys who fight for their people in the darkest hour, when the peoples of Earth sought to destroy the Martian colonies.
But Eric, old now, surviving on meds and implants and willpower, his body long since given in to its inevitable end, speaks to them. Eric, supreme ruler to the Combine, once their High Xenocide and now the simply-titled President, listens to them, understands them and their plight.
Humanity etched its way into the universe on the blood of many; Eric makes his last mark on the universe one of redemption. "Return," he tells the Eleven, "And take what you need with you. Let shed only the blood of the wicked."
Warlord Ki'toan gazed at the burning planet below. Those Who Are Not had proved to be an unworthy foe, fleeing like cowards into the wind. The battle had been short, but fierce. Many brave warriors had left to join Somtaaw in his grand and glorious halls, soldiers now for the Kiith'id. And even though millions of Those Who Are Not were destroyed, not a single soul for the Aldaera was gained. Ki'toan hated fighting machines. There was no purpose, only destruction. This war was a mockery to the power and holyness that was a Purge. There was no harvesting, only death for the faithful.
Even now, Temple Disciples were landing on the shattered planet, ensuring that every trace of Those Who Are Not were destroyed. The planet would be terraformed as the months go by, mirrors would be setup to harvest sunlight, ice asteroids would be dumped into the atmosphere, green algae would be introduced to the surface. In a few years, the planet would be turned from a shattered machine world to a green world with warm air and future as a world of the Eleven Tribes. For now, his warriors rested and mopped up the last of Those Who Are Not. He turned away from the large bridge windows, striding towards the communication station to report success.
Several years later
The Immortal Ka did not see borders of empires or foundations of political entities. He saw shifting breaking points, stress lines where the application of pressure would yield results. The galaxy was interconnected, a house of cards. If he plucked at the shatterpoint, the house would collapse. The Immortal Ka stood in the middle of the galaxy. All around him were stars , connected by bright lines indicating jump gates. Colors swirled around the stars like liquid, representing political boundaries. In every direction the galaxy flowed and slowly shifted in color. It was a vibrant, living thing. The Immortal Ka inhaled the incense that flowed in the room and watched the colors pulsate.
He was the first Immortal Ka to walk the stars. His predecessors had worked to unite the Tribes and stop the genocidal war. After that, there was the formation of the Temple and the Tribal-Temple war. Then came a long period of peace that spanned two Immortals. Then he had journeyed to Valar and Nidaguk and obtained the status of Immortal Ka. And he had risen the Tribune out of the Dausmarks and into the galaxy, finding Others. Now the Tribune stood at a threshold. The Immortal Ka stood and watched the colors, reading them as they poured forth their information.
The world seized from Those Who Are Not was being successfully terraformed. Orbital mirror relays had been positioned and greenweave algae had been introduced. These, combined with the ice debris melted in the atmosphere, had created healthy ecosphere. An ecosystem was starting to already form on the planet. Large scale settlement was ongoing. The system had been declared Faeph Doma and the Council granted system control to the Tribe of Loomar. Warlord Ki'toan was honored for his accomplishments and was already ordered to lead a second assault.
Those Who Are Not reacted, of course. But their movements were predictable. The Eleven Divines blessed the Tribune fleets and the Tribunal Navy routed machine fleets at Tigoth Ir. A counter-attack to retake Faeph Doma failed also. Now a powerful force assembled, an entire Skaal-tel Core. It was the first Skaal-tel Core since the Tribune had formed. Millions of warriors and thousands ships, all ordained by the Temple. All knowing that they were part of a military entity that was not deemed to return. A Skaal-tel Core waged it's holy war until not a single member was left. The Warlord Ki'toan had been selected to lead the Skaal-tel Core, and even now they prepped to penetrate deep into the territory of Those Who Are Not. The warriors had a new incense to breath, the Nova Dust, a powerful mediation fragrance. The abominations would fall and balance would be righted.
But other things shifted in the void. An Oracle had returned from a mission, a mission that had been brought upon by a strange vision. His findings had caused a deep shock to run throughout the Tribune. The Others known to the Galaxy of the Qen had been found to be different then anything else imagined. The Temple, after much consultation and mediation, had declared that these were the Eyes of the Graces. They told how the Grace of Fate, grieving to see the Tribune lost and unsure of itself, had torn her eyes out and casted them into the void. The Eyes were all-seeing and provided direction. Indeed, they had already granted the Tribune with advanced knowledge. The Temple had constructed a Shrine to the Eyes and the Tribune rejoiced to find that Servants of the Graces existed amongst the stars.
Over the years following this revelation, the Immortal Ka moved to take advantage of the Tribune's new found drive and convince the more hardline elements to consider allying with some of the Others. He knew that the more powerful empires laying across the ion storms would someday reach out to the Tribune's sectors. Preparations had to be made for that day. So the Circle of Exchange contacted the Cilid Empire and the Over-Tribe Union, beginning intense negotiations. As embassies were built and emissaries exchanged, the Temple Priests told how the Cilids and Corfas were children born of the three Graces. As the Doman Kwiets were brought into existence, so were the Cilids and Corfas. Each were a child of a Grace. While the Doman Kwiets dwelt in the holy lands and were of the most important Grace, the Grace of Balance, the Cilids and the Corfas were just as worthy. From this, the Trinity Alliance was born.
The Immortal Ka saw the Trinity Alliance as a series of lines crisscrossed on each other, points of light tied to one another by dozens of strong lines. Parts of the galaxy was filled with color as the Immortal Ka saw the ripples of the Alliance surge forth. Already one of the empires, the Wargh, had casted threats to the Cilids. Servants of Da'ath, the three dark lords that oversaw Nidaguk, the Land of Darkness, the Wargh troubled the Tribune greatly.
The Immortal Ka turned to a different color, a luminous beacon that glowed. It told a story of war and threats to the Qen, the Eyes of the Grace. Such intolerance was despicable. An insult to the servants of the Three could not be tolerated. The Temple was already drafting a statement that was to be issued by the Circle of Exchange. The Immortal Ka inhaled again the fragments of incense. The colors pulsed, the galaxy lived on... Statement beamed to all receiving embassies, transmitted by the Circle of Exchange
The attack upon the all-seeing Eyes of the Graces, the infalliable Qen, by the servants of darkness, the Council of Visculon Families, must not be tolerated. This assault proves that the Council of Visculon Families is acting out of foolishness. They are unstable and a blight upon the galaxy. They serve to bring nothing but destruction and irreverent blasphemies. Suffer not these creatures of dark places. The Tribune calls upon the Others to cast out these strangers from their homes and restrict their horrid activities. We advise sanctions be placed at once upon the Council of Visculon Families and military operations commenced. The Tribune asks the Others not to indulge these beasts. The Immortal Ka, the Forever One, the all-knowing Eye, warns sternly any action taken to aid the Council of Visculon Families. May the Eyes of the Graces, the blessed and the holy servants, utterly vanquish these foul monstrosities. May they take soul for soul.
Ratilum Vilcen and his vassals left the council chambers to a standing ovation. The "war" was going precisely to plan.
Ratilum smirked to himself for a moment, he could hear the cheers from outside. Thousands of Visculi were celebrating in the streets for their great "victory". The defeat of the Qen, both in own their system and when they fought back. Although the populance was told it happened the other way around. That the Qen abominations had viciously attacked the new fiefdom, that they had attacked without warning and had killed thousands of civilians.
In reality, the Qen fleet was met with a Visculi fleet several times it size and was annihilated. No civilians were killed, in fact the colony in question is mainly popluated by sub being clones, and is a mining colony.
Ratilum pondered his plan for a moment, but his moment of quiet satisfaction was broken when one of his Vassal clones spoke.
"The council members of Lycurken and Soratius were absent again my lord."
"Are they going to be a problem?" Ratilum said, in a slightly menacing tone.
The Vassal, now sweating and becoming anxious, hesiantly spoke.
"We have been unable to contact their fiefs my lord, and they have all but abandoned their holdings on Trikkoras... and they sent no ships to aid the fleets combatting the Qen."
"I grow impatient of you telling me things I already know. What of my spies in their palaces?"
The vassal was sweating profusely. He started to stutter his words.
"Th-th-they all came back... dead my lord" He said in fear.
"Th-th-the corpses showed signs of b-b-bbrain worms my lord. The-th-they will know!"
Ratilum in one fast motion unsheathed his ceremonial knife, grabbed the vassal clone by his saetel (of which he had many cut off, and nearly all shortened) and slit his throat.
Ratilum wiped his blade on a cloth from his uniform's pocket and threw it onto the body of his vassal.
"They shall ALL BOW TO ME when this is done! NONE shall resist me!"
He gestured to his servants and they began to drag the body away. As he walked off, he yelled back to his servants.
"When they re-clone him, have that memory implanted into the flesh womb. I want him to remember his death, perhaps he won't fail me next time."
((Lil' bitty updates to the Wargh IC Posts. The war on the Telomere continues, and a meeting with the Cilids begins.))
((Also, I've been reorganizing and adding content to the Wiki page for the Wargh Empire in an attempt to give it a bit more depth. Hope it ain't too boring.))
Okay, we'll just keep it going then. Should I assume that any of the Cilid's allies are there, or should we play it as if we're waiting for them to show up?
Posts
CEO Argus Nonam scoffed at such reports and released information of the acquisition of Intensity Supernational, a previously barren stretch of space now fully terraformed and fully integrated into Ferrous' Board of Directors system. Mr. Nonam refused to comment on the nature of Intensity's use, or on the heavy presence of Ferrous Security Creche officers, but he did promise that the products coming from the company's 7 jungle planets would profoundly alter life for any species within the span of the Ferrous brand.
He also stated that no further need for negotiation was necessary at this time, and that the next few cycles will bring with them further exciting news for investors in Ferrous Polyglobal."
The thoughts raced through the minds of the Hshshsahsha on their worlds. On Hshshsahshahome it swirled around the trunks of the great trees. On Newhome-that-glitters it reverberated against the anvil-hard ground. And on Newhome-that-breathes, the thought stirred and churned through the massive, sighing moss-caves that honeycombed the planet and gave it its name.
The Hshshsahsha danced their dances -- sparks in the darkness, cousins to the stars above.
They all laughed uproariously at the pretension of those thoughts, and the thinker was snuffed out. He was much less serious when next he shone.
Iatham kept his hands folded as he thought. Bare the fangs of Telomere? Perhaps they had some trap set up... The fuel might be useful, but his people did not wish to expand TOO far. But why did they put so much store in their meat? His people could not taste per se, but there really wasn't anything on their home planet that they couldn't eat. Thus, they cultivated and herded the native animals in pens on ships and in sealed domes for their food. He concluded that there was something amiss with the meat.
"Our people do not about taste: on our home planet, smell is useless. The temperature is simply too low to smell or taste anything. We decline the offer of your meat." He took a few breaths... this would be difficult to pull off.
"We also decline your offer of the fuel. As a people, we are slow. Rarely do we branch off from our home planet. We've only been traveling amongst the stars to satiate our curiosities. However, my decisions may be overturned. The Council must vote on this course of action. If you would please leave the Chambers, we will be able to begin voting."
With that done, he turned back towards the center of the circle, and waited for the guards, and the ambassador, to leave.
Her mind worked furiously. It had not gone well. They had offered the Telomere nothing of worth in trade yet spit upon her own offer. Perhaps the young council member was more then just an over zealous rabble rouser. Perhaps there was wisdom to be found in his ravings. Still, the way they had delt with them. To murder one of your own was Anathema to the Telomere. Inconcievable. Perhaps... there was precedent amongst the Tchang for it of course. Perhaps the entire scene in the council room was a gambit to lure the Telomere into a sense of security. It was all to much for Epsilon. She had no head for intrigue.
She began a slow dignified walk down the hallway. Taking note of the number and position of guards flanking her. If they were to attempt anything she was well prepared. Safely stored within an endospore lodged in her frontal lobe was an active Telomere XT-T variant. If her body stress levels reached a certain threshold the endospore would dissolve and the Telomere XT-T would take over. Her hope was to give the lizard men an inaccurate assesment of Telomere might. Her death would then serve a purpose.
She hoped it didn't come to that. War was not the goal of the Telomere.
"There can be no doubting it."
"So... diplomacy is out of the question."
"It would seem so."
Theta grinned. With Epsilon gone she would have full control over this operation. She intended to show the Telomere leadership that it took more then knowledge of the histories to be a diplomat. It took a small dose of insanity.
"Bring up the long wave. I've got a message for our new friends."
"What?! We have to inform Alef before we take any action! One wrong move and it's our end!"
"It is our end if we wait to act. These monsters are unlike anything we have encounted before and we can not cling to conventions if we hope to survive them. Bring up the long wave. Now."
"...very well" Reluctantly the messanger did as he was asked.
"ATTENTION WARGH TYRANNY, YOUR REPUTATION PRECEDES YOU. I REPRESENT OMICRON CHAMPION OF THE TELOMERE. WE CHALLENGE THE CHAMPION OF YOUR KIND TO SINGLE UNARMED COMBAT. THE LOSER WILL SURRENDER WITHOUT TERMS TO THE VICTOR. END TRANSMISSION."
Theta signaled the messanger to shut off the long wave. She grinned. It was insane but it was also necessary. If the information networks reports were correct these beasts were war mongers of the highest order. They would not listen to reason. She only hoped that they respected some twisted sense of honor by arms.
"What... have you done?!"
"I have just secured the future of the Telomere in this universe."
"You have just doomed us all! Even the most rudimentry of investigation has revealed the Wargh to be vastly our physical superior! We can not hope to win!."
"I do not hope for victory."
"You would have us forced into surrender to them!?"
"Neither is that my plan." Theta grinned.
ATTENTION TELOMERE. THE WARGH EMPIRE HAS RECIEVED YOUR CHALLENGE, AND ACCEPTS. THE APPROPRIATE WARRIOR WILL BE SENT TO YOU SHORTLY. THE REMAINDER OF YOUR MESSAGE WAS DIFFICULT TO TRANSLATE. OUR CHAMPION WILL DISCUSS THIS WITH YOU FURTHER WHEN HE ARRIVES.
The message repeats several times before being replaced with the white noise of dead air.
((let's to the rest by pm's, eh?))
Ever the explorer at heart, however, Riiz was not to be cowed by the oncoming Wargh armada. His explorer vessels had reported a vast system nearby, only a short leap away. The new FTL drive designs shown to them by the Starfarers and the Wave would get him there in a year, maybe less if he pushed hard. It was, potentially, suicidal; Riiz knew this, as did his colonists. But, as he had argued to the Council, it would place a part of the Kelari race away from the Wargh's focus, and perhaps better ensure their survival.
And so, into the darkness of Sector 100 did Master Riiz lead the people of Toldo....
****
Meanwhile, the following message is sent to the Starfarers, Combine (secret-like), and Wave.
"Friends of the Kelari, we have won a great victory against the Wargh. Their assault on the Rift, our home, was halted in its tracks, the gears of their war machine grinding to a halt, and it is thanks to the support and resources sent by your people. Together, we were stronger than we ever were alone, and together we stood against a great menace to the galaxy. Though only Kelari soldiers fought, every one of you was with them.
It is our hope that the friendship built in this bloody war will last to its conclusion, for we do not believe that the Wargh will give up after a single defeat. We pray for peace, but we prepare for war. Together, we prevail, and together we endure."
****
(The Battle of the Rift will be chronicled by Horseshoe and I via PM, to be consolidated into a page on the Wiki.)
Bravely they ventured forth into the beyond, seeing for the first time the majesty of the galaxy spread out before them, and within their reach. They drank in the awe and splendor of this great cosmic ballet, of seeing The Dust in it's most awesome manifestation surrounding them and offering them limitless opportunity for wonder and reflection.
Alas, their eagerness would also spell their doom.
It began on the binary planet system they named Ar'nuria, the first system they discovered to be hospitable after they left Ruia. There they found organisms far beyond their understanding and comprehension.
Unfortunately, the organisms also found them. It took a while, but the Na'ar soon became sick. Some fled back to their home world, while others continued their quest for the stars. It was too late, however, as their fate was sealed.
Within weeks, nearly every member of the Na'ar species was dead.
There may be a few survivors, those who managed to be immune to the plague that swept through the race, ravaging their numbers and wiping the once great culture from the cosmos forever.
Thus ends the tale of the Na'ar, and so ends their influence on the galaxy at this most pivotal time in history.
A colorful red cilid stood up from his chair. "Just as it's a 'fact' the universe revolves around Antalla? Just as it's a 'fact' that everything is made of water at the fundamental level? Just as it's a fact that nothing is more basic then atoms, or quarks?" He sat back down quite smug.
The dull Cilid's eyes seemed deep with anger, but he remained cold in his response, "You mock my work, but the math stands..."
"Your math is garbage in light of the evidence that has been presented. Why are you so insistent? We stand on the brink of a scientific revolution and you... you and every damned dul..." The blue one caught himself before he spewed forth a racial epithet.
He calmed himself "Professor please. Your work is widely respected, but we've given you every piece of evidence we have. The Freudenberg equation. The Spencer fuel. The charts do not lie. The scientific community is in consensus of this possibility. What more evidence do you need?"
The grey one looked on each of the colorful cilids, his deep yellow eyes meeting each of them. They were like a rainbow. He quietly spoke his demand, "I want to see it."
A few of them jumped when he said that. A yellow one spook first, "We don't know what you're talk..."
The center Green one, the chairman, interrupted, "The professor is a very well respected mathematician, and if showing it to him will quiet his... objections."
Red angrily objected "That is a MILITARY project! It is highly classified."
"For too long this committee has been criticized for being... unprogressive towards the greater social erg concerns of the populace. If bringing Professor Damoc on board will assuage some of the criticisms..."
Green looked to the others, then deep into the yellow eyes of Professor Damoc, "This is, of course, um, contingent, on a background check, but ahem, if we show you the device will you agree to the scientific, uh, consensus."
Professor Damoc's eyes blinked twice before he nodded.
----
Later that evening Professor Damoc sat alone in his darkened office. He took out a tube from his desk and fiddled with it a bit before jamming it straight into his mouth.
UPLINK established to relay 400 rotation 6020
Encrypting channel rotation 6021
Uploading video footage rotation 6022
The Cilids were definitely working on something, but the machine had been right in his report. They were years away from a working drive, perhaps decades. Still, it had accomplished its mission. There was even a chance of getting on the scientific board in a few years. From there it'd have access to the entire scientific community of Cilid. It could wait, time was a resource the Damocles had plenty of.
"Greetings Galaxy! I am PR creche representative Niwad Profit! Argus Nonam regrets being unable to speak to you personally, as he is in deliberations with the Board of Directors.
Our long range sensors have located a vast number of you in the last 5 cycles AB, and it is our hope that Ferrous Technologies will find a home in every one of your markets! With this in mind, I have been asked to present some of the most exciting news about our recent ventures!
Ferrous brood mothers have successfully filled a new system with members of the Production and Management creches. This system, a frozen stretch of planetoids orbiting a dead sun, promises the most strenuous testing region for all of our technologies. The super-cooled surfaces also promise the most advanced computing systems known in the galaxy. As such this system has been rebranded as Cybercore Intelligence, your premier source for Artificial Intelligence programs.
Aesir announces the development of the new Interplanetary Cybernet! A system that promises rapid communication through the Corporation subsidiaries and a vast aid to researchers in any system. With the aid of our recently discovered Crystal Coils, Investors can be assured that exciting new Technologies are soon to be forthcoming from Ferrous Polyglobal!
Finally, as many of you already know, Ferrous has created an exciting new channel for our Holonet view systems! Creep! a network with the non-bipedal Species in mind! Broadcast in Ultra-def, 38 binaries per day-cycle, Creep! will be the first and last channel your tentacle ever needs to touch!
Trade representatives of many of your Civilizations should be on the look out for messages from CEO Nonam himself, dutifully transported by my fellow PR creche members. Remember, Ferrous Polyglobal isn't selling you your life, we're selling you a better one!"
He's attractive by human standards, about 6 feet tall, and has fire-red hair, an indicator of who he is. This is P-1-Alpha, the leader of the Time Divers and pilot of their home, the colossal auto-planet starbase designated Judecca.
"This will be suitable, then. Engage awakening procedures for crew designates Alpha through Eta."
Elsewhere in the ship, five massive doors open, revealing a thousand small tubes behind each door. 5000 humanoids, half male, half female, emerge from the tubes. There are only 10 individual appearances, 2 for each clone group, male and female, and they all have violet-blue hair, every single one.
The Time Divers have awakened. As for what reason, even they don't know.
"Friends of the Kelari, brothers in the stars, it is our hope that this war which has begun between you will soon cease, and we offer our services to negotiate a peace between you.
"Know that the Kelari remember the friendship of the Starfarers when our need was dire, and that, should the aggression of the Combine prove tenacious, we will step forth to aid our beleaguered and peaceful brethren in defending their homes.
"Let us stand as brothers lest we die as enemies. Together we are stronger than we ever are apart."
- Hyperwave psychic broadcast from Riossinnammellannorra, third Llerroammenna of the Starfarers
Hello humans of The Combine we Starfarers hope you enjoy your newly acquired system we had dubbed it The Dark Place of Many Moons and Peace though you will surely change that name nevertheless it is our hope that you will find here the same peace that we did and perhaps come to understand that these ways of violence and aggression can lead only to destruction for us all please revel in the beauty you have forced us to leave behind and be happy and at peace if you do this you will all be welcome in Starfarer space as friends and equals to be respected not enemies and villains to be reviled
- Message for Combine forces occupying Rommimmallonnessansalla
Eric gathers those few in his empire he trusts - his personal viziers, who have been with him since the beginning; his personal technicians, whom he trusts more than any others; the officers of the Golden Horde, the elite Infantry unit that he has fought beside for seventy years.
And with them, he plans.
He plans to destroy the council, destroy the citizen/civilian divide, destroy the hate propaganda.
High Xenocide Eric Schindler has spoken enough with the Kelari, the Civilization One, even the Wargh to understand that war will not bring Humanity to prosper. Not now, and likely not ever.
http://spacemyth.pbwiki.com/Challenge%20From%20a%20New%20Star
http://spacemyth.pbwiki.com/The%20Empire%20Strikes%20Twice
http://spacemyth.pbwiki.com/A%20word%20for%20Not%20War
"Send no transmissions," said Groth, "and block any transmissions directed toward the Empire. No contact, radio silence on all unsecured channels."
"Do you wish leave 'structions for--"
"You will do as I instruct and nothing else!" the General screamed at his officer. "I have been summoned to Rhok'Tal, and no actions will be taken in this matter until I return. Has my transport ship been readied?"
"Aye, Gen'ral."
Groth snarled and marched off to his ship, his long, coarse gray hair trailing behind him. His men were beginning to question his authority since challenge to his clan leadership had been issued from the homeworld. He was the oldest Wargh in all their history, and he intended to hold that title a while longer.
They had discovered a new system{103}, and adding that to the one that they obtained earlier, they had three systems. The newest one was to be named Ezekiel. It had only one planet, fairly large and bountiful with life, with some decent mineral deposits. The planet seemed that it would make a good colony, and was named Kanaf.
The one claimed before{204} was named Tolar, it had an odd belt of small planets, bigger than asteroids, and a few even had atmosphere. There were 8 of them, all in about the same orbit around the star. Although Judecca deemed the risk of the planets colliding was too great for any sort of settlement, they were a bountiful research opportunity.
Hails came in from team AE and team BD, stating that they were on the brink of major breakthroughs. P-1 smiled; Gamma had reported what appeared to be signs of other civilizations near Ezekiel, and any breakthroughs would undoubtedly be most helpful when it came to dealing with them.
We are not alone in this 3rd/4thplace. Others. Many others not Hshshsahsha. Do they dance? Will they Share? All Share. It is the way. They will learn to Share with Hshshsahsha, and Hshshsahsha will Share with them. What if they do not? The rock-thinkers and the others-who-read4thspace and the distant-metal-ones did not seem interested in Sharing. They will Share. They move differently through 4thplace than we. Give them -- what do they call it? -- time. If they do not Share? They will Share. One way or another, they will Share. It is the only way.
A new meme among the Hshshsahsha. This is the way we were/are/will be, in that 3rd/4thplace.
---
Greetings. The Hshshsahsha wish you good dancing among the stars. Come Share with us, and we will Share with you. We would know more about you. We would have friends in the depths of space. We wish for peace. We will meet you in the 3rd/4thplace of your choosing.
--Message implanted into the minds of the leaders of the various races of the galaxy.
Scytelos checked over his current project, from the observation deck he could see his many underlings tending over the vats. Inside the vats were the new breed of Xerademus guard. Genetically engineered clone soldiers, a personal army of the Xerademus family. Every family had such an army, the new challenges and threats of the galaxy demanded it, although the Xerademus were using their extensive genetic knowhow to improve their guard beyond those of the other families. Scytelos moved on, down the brightly lit corridors of the research station. He had lived on this floating lab, out in the vast seas of Vitunas III, since it was built. The familiar corridors led him to the test chamber, as he went very day.
The new prototype was here, fresh from the vats where it had spent the first year of it's life, in accelerated growth and with it's brain directly connected to the training simulator. The clone stood before Scytelos, an imposing figure, taller than he was and looking much like any other Visculi apart from it's unusual bald head. It was in fact custom designed for battle, with a stronger and more durable body, faster regeneration and several other genetic modifications to make it the ultimate Visculi soldier. Utterly and unquestioningly loyal, this guard would follow any order of it's master. Despite it's appearance, this was not a Visculi, it was a tool. A tool of battle. Scytelos examined this new specimen, making a few notes on his datapad.
His masters would not be dissapointed.
Soul for soul.
Soul for soul.
Danger lurked in the black.
The Tribune sat quietly, passively as wars waged around them. Empires were formed and fallen, civilizations made and broken. Only thirty and five spins of the Hadräl-valar and around them the blackness was molded by the Others. The Tribune sat quietly.
Internally, it was chaos. The revelation that the Graces had crafted other beings, other servants was foundation shattering. The Temple had reeled in shock, a blow to everything they believed and taught. It was blasphemy that those who were not Aesho walked the black, it was unthinkable. The Temple had always told, had always claimed that they were the only Graced. These others were abominations; foul creatures dredged up from Nidaguk, the Temple claimed. But the faith and traditions of the Temple had been shaken, prophesies were found false. For the first time, the Domän Kwiets did something that was never thought possible... they questioned their traditions and beliefs. The Tribal Council saw the Temple's power weakened and moved to increase their own.
And so, as the Temple called for holy wars and extermination of the abominations, the Domän Kwiets did nothing. The Tribune slowly began to right itself, oblivious to the outside world. The wounds were healed, the power vacuums were filled. Explanations were created and believed. The Others served as a balance, a counter-weight. The Graces had crafted the legion of Others to balance the almighty power and wisdom of the Tribune. So the Tribune stabilized and healed, an old creature learning new tricks.
The Immortal Ka stayed above the internal politics and mad grabs for increased power. He was, and ever shall be, the true leader and seer of the Domän Kwiets. The half-dead, half-living Lord of the Domän Kwiets had seen much during the span of the Tribune and knew such things were fleeting. A moment and they were gone. The Tribune would endure. It always has, always would.
The Immortal Ka opened his eyes. Before him sat the Nine Oracles of the Temple around one side of the table. On the other sat the Eleven Aath Dal, leaders of the Eleven Tribes. In the middle sat the representatives from the Vannis Circles, the advisory bodies that assisted both the Tribunal Council and the Temple with administrative duties. The Aath Dal for the Syath Tribe was speaking, loudly. "The Tribune has sat back and done nothing about this blight, this insult to the glory of our people. If Temple Markers have found artificial constructs inside the Circle of Learning, we must react!"
"Foolishness, we cannot advocate violence towards Those Who Are Not. We have no idea of their strength or abilities," the Aath Dal for Tiron Tribe said, "We cannot blindly commit forces. My Warlord has advised-"
"To sit back and do nothing is an insult to our Ancestors. Those Who Are Not are artificial mockery of the gods. The Eleven Divines cannot stand these... these heathens." One of the Oracles stood, pointing a finger at the Tiron Aath Dal. "Too long have we grown soft and complacent! I think the Tribes have forgetten the taste of battle. The river of souls to Aesho has dried, our ancestors no longer have servants!"
"If we've grown soft it is the Divine Temple's fault. You've taught us falsities and woven mistrust into our culture, we-" The Falsha Aath Dal was cut off.
"You dare insult the Temple of the Divines? Have you forsaken the Eleven altogether? You are fool of your ancestors and-"
"Enough." The Immortal Ka quietly uttered the word and all fell silent in an instance. "I wish to hear the Circle of Arms."
The Circleman bent his head to the Immortal Ka. "Evermore Prophet, the Arms Circle is in agreement. After investigating the matter, the Markers have indeed uncovered a creature from Those Who Are Not. The Markers have swept the Circle of Learning with the help of Tribunal Armsmen and found a sophisticated operation. Research has been filtered to Those Who Are Not. There could be more throughout the Circles, Tribes and Temple. We've ordered the Armsmen to carefully investigate all those of importance but these constructs are complicated."
The Tiron Aath Dal stood and bowed to the Immortal Ka. "Knowing Eye, my warlords and advisers are of the opinion that these could be from anyone, not just Those Who Are Not. The Tribe of Tiron advises caution."
"Prudency is a wise suggestion that bears heeding, Aath Dal." The Aath Dal beamed at this but the Immortal Ka proceed. "Inaction is not. The Tribune has long been governed by stern and cold fist, a fist that rules its own people. If this was in error or not is a debate for the teachers. We now rule the Tribune with a weak and shaky fist, torn over our own mistakes. We are not infallible beings, as much as the Temple would like to think. We have erred and the Eleven Divines accept this. What we will not accept is complacency."
The Immortal Ka rose to his full height. "The Tribune has been silent in the void. We have now been insulted and shunned. This will not happen. The scale has been tipped with an insult, we must balance it. We will bring the house of Those Who Are Not down. We will conduct a Purge."
The Tiron Aath Dal stared at the Immortal Ka and started shouting loudly, "A Purge? You want to conduct a Purge? We are weak, we are not strong enough to conduct a purge! This is an act of fools-"
"WE. ARE. THE. TRIBUNE." The Immortal Ka's voice shook the room and he appeared to become a terrible and horrid figure, towering above them all. Everyone sank into their seats in terror. "And Tiron would do well to remember it!"
"Yes, yes, Forever One."
"We will strike fast and hard, a spear into the heart of Those Who Are Not. The Temple shall commit the hal'Draal, the Council shall call forth the Tribunal Navy and Reserve. I expect full commitment of your tribal military. Exchange Circlemen."
"Yes, All Immortal?"
"We shall seek forth allies in this struggle. The Circle of Exchange shall conduct operations to convince the nearest Others to Those Who Are Not that they would do well to enter this championship of arms. The Tribune will meet victory."
The Immortal Ka's massive headpiece swept the room. Soul for soul," he intoned.
"Soul for soul," the room repeated.
Soul for soul.
In the system of Fal Toroth, a Syath Tribe planet, a fleet gathered. War cruisers and dreadnoughts of the Tribunal Navy collected together, with carriers from the Tribes of Syath and Falsha interspersed throughout the fleet. Dozens of transports carrying two legions of hal'Draal Disciples were escorted by Iriondo Tribe frigates. Tribal assault troops from Tiron and Loomar boarded long, angular crafts on the world of Fal Dii. The Warlord appointed to head the Purge stood on the deck of his dreadnought. It was time. He crushed a handful of incense and threw the cloud in his face. Breathing deeply, he felt his body open up. "Be with us, almighty Divines. Somtaaw, guide our hands. Se'jet, guide our minds. Soul for soul," he whispered.
"Lord Ki'toan, last ship from Fal Dii has cleared orbit."
"Begin our jumps. Immortal Ka, we, who are about to die, salute you. Soul for soul!"
Behind him, the command deck shouted in unison, "Soul for soul!"
Soul for soul.
P-1's head hurt. The shock of having a random psychic message shoved into your head tends to do that. Still, whoever sent it didn't seem hostile, but you never know. He attempted to locate the source of the message, intending to send a reply.....
--
Grace was raised by hippie parents, a practitioner of yoga and an adherent of Eastern spiritualities. Damoc is a robot. They married each other on their first date.
WACKY COMEDY ENSUES!
Grace is on the coffee table in a modest apartment. The camera looks down at a worried robot.
Robot: "Grace get down from that table!"
Grace: "Why don't you come UP here?"
Robot: "Does not compute!"
====
The Damocles stared intently at their video screens. Is this some sort of attack? Maybe a virus or a means of warning the rest of the galaxy of their coming attack? They kept watching.
Grace and the Robot are now on the table.
Robot: "This does not compute!"
Save incoming transmission to analysis failure rotation 7201
Four months later the Cilids receive their first transmission from system 163
THE reality TV show of the century. He is a wealthy Robot bachelor.
Camera zooms over a bunch of Cilid Females
These 50 ladies are all have one shot to win his marriage.
But to do it. They must defeat the ultimate Challenge
Picture of an exploding Volcano.
VOLCANO WEDDING SURVIVOR!
Pictures of Ladies running from exploding lava all in wedding dresses.
"So... what do you think this means?"
"I... I have absolutely no idea. I'd suggest we send out a representative on an emissary craft but they may end up being forced to wed a robot or something equally... well, I cannot begin to imagine"
Laughter pattered around the room and was but was cut short by a sudden noise coming from outside the hall.
KABWWWWAP!
An aging Cilid, orange fin now fading, peered out of the window, "Sounds like they've gotten out the supressors already, I don't know what those dullheads' problem is".
The rest of the Cilids looked at eachother awkwardly. Husra was stuck in his ways and too old to change now but his attitudes towards Common Cilid protestors still grated on the younger council members.
Sticking a leaf into his mouth Husra began to chew on it as he spoke. "If it's not complaining about the content of our transmissions to aliens it's about our treatment of Kulan relics. If they're not there to look after it then it's not theirs! Really, you should see the Kulan tomb-mask I have in my corridor, it has the most exquisite..."
"Excuse me, but aren't we getting sidetracked here?" piped up a blue Cilid.
Husra huffed lightly and sat himself back down at the table.
"Right then, the next thing we need t..."
KABWWWWWAP!
"Will somebody shut that window!"
SoogaGames Blog
This time around, the Wargh exchange a system with the Kelari Collective (aka "Clan Riftwar")...
...continue to bungle their war on the Telomere...
...and the Empire now has a new Supreme General.
In a mere 15 cycles AB you of the Aesir management creche have proved your worth many times over. Your Brood mother has been most heavily rewarded, and your vacation period on our newest Space Arc, the Spearous mk. III is ensured for a full 3 standard day periods and promotions are sure to follow the removal of your unneeded appendages for increased productivity and leadership. Your work along with that of the newest in Cybercore intelligence systems has ensured an outstanding surge in market share and profit margins. Never before has a corporation controlled the credit of so many. Our brand names and our PR creche members have infiltrated every niche in every market. One thing before basic motor function is returned: Executive 23 Travel Caan, immediately file your report on the activities of the creatures now named Fuzzel Babies on system corporation Pursuit of Hugs. Justify their need for a complete system devoted to the entertainment of the young in regards to cuddliness and lovability. Is their language appropriate for a Teleweb production? Are their furs suitably soft to produce a line of clothing and dolls? The Board demands this within the next 10 mindthoughts.
P-1's attention now turned to the new developments: the crystal world called Septuagint and the strange matter harvested from the planet cluster in the Tolar system.
Septuagint was, according to every calculation Judecca could do, something that shouldn't be. Everything about it, from it's enormous size, freakish structure, and bizarre position in a very tight orbit around a blue supergiant, was completely impossible, and yet there it was, with a surface temp hot enough to boil the strongest metal available and a radioactivity level high enough to cook a steak through a meter of lead. The properties of the crystals would be a boon in every way imaginable, from armor to weaponry to power sources, but even being near it could kill you extremely quickly. The only thing that could conceivably survive on the planet would be the formless Ahsha, and even they would probably suffer the effects of the gravity, radiation and heat simply due to the sheer magnitude.
The odd matter was something different. Although it was a great power source, it only seemed to be able to be harnessed for weapons systems, as if it was meant for that purpose and that purpose only. Clone batch Epsilon was awakened to study the substance, although P-1 doubted that they could rig it into anything other than a weapon.
The current clone teams(Alpha, Beta, Gamma, Eta, Delta) were nearing the end of their lifespans. P-1 put in the command to have Zeta, Theta, Iota, Kappa and Lambda batches on standby, ready to be awakened when the first five started to expire. The Time Divers had no mind for mourning, there were always more work to be done, and more clones to replace the dead, even for P-1.
The leader of the Time Divers looked to the smaller cloning machine behind him, marked P. 30 vats, each featuring either a man or woman, identical to the clone batch that they shared their name with, Alpha through Omega, except for their fire-red hair.
Time Diver Pilots were distinguished by more than their hair and the P designation, they were stronger, smarter, faster, and their lives were far longer. They had to be. Judecca cannot function without a pilot, and the abilities of a standard Diver are insufficient.
The trip itself is uneventful, and gives great opportunity for introspect on the part of the emissary. The space here seems even colder, the single white dwarf a mere pinpoint in the sky as he descends the windblown atmosphere onto Khalis – V. The sky is a whirr of blue dust whirring across massive crystalline towers. Torn through the ground are massive chasms lined with crystals, as if focusing channels of some unseen river. Pensive stone creatures, leviathan in scope meander in slow large steps like stone elephants the size of cities.
One chasm in particular seems to run deep, eventually having a ceiling of crystalline so thick that it must run to the very core of the earth itself. The fist-size crystal accompanying the emissary leads him down into this chasm where he’s forced to disembark, and perform the rest of the journey on foot.
As the Doman Kwiet traverses a comfortable footpath, it seems to stretch for hundreds of miles ahead of him and is lit by refraction and reflections from crystals of every color. Although the journey seems to be an immeasurable distance, the time it takes to traverse seems disproportionately short, and not nearly long enough to investigate all the mysteries of light. The crystals begin to take more of an auburn and amber shade the deeper he goes, and deep within this central chasm, the line between mind and body seem to blur. What is and isn’t meld and what can only be tricks of light, holograms, or disembodied souls dance and flow rhythmically around the crystals while rivers of ethereal glow twist and wind below crystalline bridges.
Finally, the emissary steps around a crystalline wall and his vision is assaulted by an interruption in color. A massive emerald colored crystal, towering past perspective and cradled by jagged light, sits buried across one more chasm. Light dances slowly within forming sparkling waterfalls and massive curved shapes in a variety of hues. It speaks softly in a voice that seems to come from within, “You have traveled to a place a proud few have seen. Thought itself is focused here. The stars have sung to us all, and we respond meekly answering something beyond.â€
ATTENTION CILIDS. YOUR ATTEMPT TO SUBVERT OUR EMPIRE WITH YOUR HOSTILE TRANSMISSIONS HAS NOT BEEN SUCESSFUL. YOU HAVE THEN FOLLOWED WITH A STATEMENT THAT THIS ACT OF WAR WAS NOT AN ACT OF WAR. YOU ARE UNCLEVER LIARS.
YOU SHALL NOT ATTEMPT FURTHER COMMUNICATIONS OF ANY KIND WITH THE WARGH OR SUFFER THE WRATH OF THE ARMADA. YOU WILL BE CONTACTED AT A LATER TIME BY THE EMPIRE SO THAT WE MAY HEAR YOUR FURTHER PLEAS FOR MERCY.
IN THIS INTERVENING PERIOD, YOU WILL BE SPARED WAR SO LONG AS THE EMPIRE HEARS NO MORE FROM YOU.
Transmission ends, and repeats several times.
Valas Jarginci, heir to the Jarginci Abbmus and the current representative in the council, was becoming impatient.
"We have known of these creatures for years now! And yet we DO NOTHING to halt the growing infestation! We sit on our hands while these THINGS spread ever closer along our territories, they take fiefs that are RIGHTFULLY OURS!"
The council chambers erupted.
Aisepi Harvannus stood and the chamber quietened down.
"The matriachy of the Harvannus agrees. These creatures are an abomination, a threat to what we as Visculi know to be true."
Stryus Xerademus, a clone of the Xerademus patriach recognised as the Xerademus representative of the council, joined the growing voice of dissent at the council's inaction.
"Indeed, we know the innate superiority of the Flesh, that we are the true path to perfection. These things are a mockery of not only us, but of ALL LIFE!"
Ratilum Vilcen stood, a hush fell over the chambers.
"We made a choice! We shall stand by this choice! But we have recieved word this morning, the spread of the infestation has halted."
Relief spread across the chamber. The waiting was over.
"On this day we begin the harvest! On this day the combined strength of the Visculi Families shall come to bear on the abomination! The time has come to remove the infestation! THE HARVEST HAS BEGUN!"
The council cheered.
"THE HARVEST HAS BEGUN!"
Ratilum struck his knife down into one of the papers on the council desk, on that paper was the image of the abomination. A creature composed of a crystaline material. It was known as "QEN"
council notes- the members for Lycurken and Soratius are curiously absent.
A lone Son Qen sits at the heart of the largest of the citadels when it hears the psychic screams of minds rending. The perimeter explorers have been rounded up and captured in this sudden attack. It has come too fast to evacuate, and the Son Qen is now aware of the looming battle ships beginning to surround the moon.
Too soon, too soon! The Son Qen orders the remaining Qen survivors to escape the thin atmosphere and to try and return to the rest of the Qen space proper. The Son Qen itself calls the rest of the Qen explaining the events afoot.
The evacuees are too slow and the Son Qen isn't powerful enough to fight off the invaders. Visculi troops land and as the Qen are preparing to leave the thin atmosphere, they are caught and shot where they stand. Young Qen, taking the forms of small four legged bodies or humanoid shells are gunned down as they flee the mercurial tides. The Son Qen manages to destroy many of the invaders with psychic waves, but it's too late. The Son Qen is destroyed and the surface of the planet captured. They capture and harvest the homes of the Qen and the corpses left behind. The few Qen surviving are summarily grinded "alive" into substituent crystal parts.
The dying Qen emit a psychic scream that spreads systems wide, loud enough that even the Visculi can feel it inside as a tingling. They, however, mistake it for the rush of victory, not the shudders of a dying people.
OOC: Edit: Retconned a bit
EDIT: More story!!
Years ago:
The young Admiral Franklin Mallory was well known for his exemplary military service and heroic war efforts. Single handedly delivering the final blow to the Earth’s Flag Ship in the last days of the war and personally quelling the Jupiter colonies uprisings by the age of 32, he found himself contemplating the stars. Forever he had prayed for an end to the war so he could finally relax, but his mind was a jumble. He felt confused—the years of constant war have done nothing to soften his blood lust.
“I’m going for a ride,†he explained to the captain of the D’artagnan, a ship he was staying on during an undetermined interim. This was nothing unusual, as it was well known that the Admiral missed the glory days when he was a pilot and not cooped up in this leadership position. He would keep flying just to stay on the edge. As per regulations, he was stuck with an escort of sixaces following him. He would try to duck them, and usually he could pull it off, but there wasn’t anything nearby for him to duck behind, so he made for the belt.
The six aces were forced to play this annoying cat and mouse game with the Admiral. Nothing happened to the Admiral, but the men’s jobs were being put into serious jeopardy. The Ace pilots would follow him to the ends of the universe. Mallory was ducking in and out of the asteroid belt, trying to lose his determined escorts when the amazing happened. He wasn’t being careful enough; he was pushing himself more than he should. He clipped the edge of an asteroid tearing off a wing and tumbled into space.
The aces pursued confused. They didn’t know what to do. On one hand, Admiral Mallory could die. On the other hand, so could they. But they were pros, and as such, they continued on their mission. Mallory was going to meet his end in what must have been an obsidian asteroid. You could only see it because it blotted out the stars. But an amazing thing happened: there was no crash or explosion. Mallory vanished. The aces approached and vanished into the inky blackness as well. And then the hole in space was gone.
Recently:
Frozen in a realm of pure thought, color, and song, The Seven barely took notice of their surroundings as they floated trapped and stuck. Years felt like hours, hours like seconds. Recently, now that humanity and the other races have spread beyond their systems, the black nebulous hole opens up and spit The Seven straight into the Qen system of Behemoth.
The Seven were picked up, and their long exposure to the astral were a mystery to the Qen. They were treated amazingly well and spend the next few years being taught about the universe from the perspective of the Qen. Coming to understand something beyond and above, The Seven found that they could access the same realms and powers that made the Qen more than just rocks. When the Visculi decimated the Qen outpost at System 121, The Seven heard and offered to return to Mars and seek help for the Qen. Outfitted with a great crystal ship, numerable trade goods, and several Qen servants, they returned to Mars as emissaries. The Seven’s return were of great event to The Combine, and as emissaries, they were empowered to give systems and impart some knowledge to the rest of the humans, with a deeper goal to spread this greater truth and assist the Qen.
Upon their return, they had found that things weren’t quite like they remembered, and yet they petitioned to do what they could to put human influence in Qen space.
OOC: INNS, it's up to you. If you want the humans to use this knowledge, take the systems I'm offering, and help destroy the Qen empire, that's your perogative. If you want to come help, that's it too.
And then the seven left.
MIRACLE! WAR HERO RETURNS AFTER DECADES LOST
MALLORY'S SEVEN RECOVERED!
ACE PILOTS RECOVERED AFTER YEARS IN ALIEN PRISON
The press was enthused, and the press lied, and humanity raged against the cruel aliens who would steal away their war heroes, the proud boys who fight for their people in the darkest hour, when the peoples of Earth sought to destroy the Martian colonies.
But Eric, old now, surviving on meds and implants and willpower, his body long since given in to its inevitable end, speaks to them. Eric, supreme ruler to the Combine, once their High Xenocide and now the simply-titled President, listens to them, understands them and their plight.
Humanity etched its way into the universe on the blood of many; Eric makes his last mark on the universe one of redemption. "Return," he tells the Eleven, "And take what you need with you. Let shed only the blood of the wicked."
And Eric dies.
Even now, Temple Disciples were landing on the shattered planet, ensuring that every trace of Those Who Are Not were destroyed. The planet would be terraformed as the months go by, mirrors would be setup to harvest sunlight, ice asteroids would be dumped into the atmosphere, green algae would be introduced to the surface. In a few years, the planet would be turned from a shattered machine world to a green world with warm air and future as a world of the Eleven Tribes. For now, his warriors rested and mopped up the last of Those Who Are Not. He turned away from the large bridge windows, striding towards the communication station to report success.
Several years later
The Immortal Ka did not see borders of empires or foundations of political entities. He saw shifting breaking points, stress lines where the application of pressure would yield results. The galaxy was interconnected, a house of cards. If he plucked at the shatterpoint, the house would collapse. The Immortal Ka stood in the middle of the galaxy. All around him were stars , connected by bright lines indicating jump gates. Colors swirled around the stars like liquid, representing political boundaries. In every direction the galaxy flowed and slowly shifted in color. It was a vibrant, living thing. The Immortal Ka inhaled the incense that flowed in the room and watched the colors pulsate.
He was the first Immortal Ka to walk the stars. His predecessors had worked to unite the Tribes and stop the genocidal war. After that, there was the formation of the Temple and the Tribal-Temple war. Then came a long period of peace that spanned two Immortals. Then he had journeyed to Valar and Nidaguk and obtained the status of Immortal Ka. And he had risen the Tribune out of the Dausmarks and into the galaxy, finding Others. Now the Tribune stood at a threshold. The Immortal Ka stood and watched the colors, reading them as they poured forth their information.
The world seized from Those Who Are Not was being successfully terraformed. Orbital mirror relays had been positioned and greenweave algae had been introduced. These, combined with the ice debris melted in the atmosphere, had created healthy ecosphere. An ecosystem was starting to already form on the planet. Large scale settlement was ongoing. The system had been declared Faeph Doma and the Council granted system control to the Tribe of Loomar. Warlord Ki'toan was honored for his accomplishments and was already ordered to lead a second assault.
Those Who Are Not reacted, of course. But their movements were predictable. The Eleven Divines blessed the Tribune fleets and the Tribunal Navy routed machine fleets at Tigoth Ir. A counter-attack to retake Faeph Doma failed also. Now a powerful force assembled, an entire Skaal-tel Core. It was the first Skaal-tel Core since the Tribune had formed. Millions of warriors and thousands ships, all ordained by the Temple. All knowing that they were part of a military entity that was not deemed to return. A Skaal-tel Core waged it's holy war until not a single member was left. The Warlord Ki'toan had been selected to lead the Skaal-tel Core, and even now they prepped to penetrate deep into the territory of Those Who Are Not. The warriors had a new incense to breath, the Nova Dust, a powerful mediation fragrance. The abominations would fall and balance would be righted.
But other things shifted in the void. An Oracle had returned from a mission, a mission that had been brought upon by a strange vision. His findings had caused a deep shock to run throughout the Tribune. The Others known to the Galaxy of the Qen had been found to be different then anything else imagined. The Temple, after much consultation and mediation, had declared that these were the Eyes of the Graces. They told how the Grace of Fate, grieving to see the Tribune lost and unsure of itself, had torn her eyes out and casted them into the void. The Eyes were all-seeing and provided direction. Indeed, they had already granted the Tribune with advanced knowledge. The Temple had constructed a Shrine to the Eyes and the Tribune rejoiced to find that Servants of the Graces existed amongst the stars.
Over the years following this revelation, the Immortal Ka moved to take advantage of the Tribune's new found drive and convince the more hardline elements to consider allying with some of the Others. He knew that the more powerful empires laying across the ion storms would someday reach out to the Tribune's sectors. Preparations had to be made for that day. So the Circle of Exchange contacted the Cilid Empire and the Over-Tribe Union, beginning intense negotiations. As embassies were built and emissaries exchanged, the Temple Priests told how the Cilids and Corfas were children born of the three Graces. As the Doman Kwiets were brought into existence, so were the Cilids and Corfas. Each were a child of a Grace. While the Doman Kwiets dwelt in the holy lands and were of the most important Grace, the Grace of Balance, the Cilids and the Corfas were just as worthy. From this, the Trinity Alliance was born.
The Immortal Ka saw the Trinity Alliance as a series of lines crisscrossed on each other, points of light tied to one another by dozens of strong lines. Parts of the galaxy was filled with color as the Immortal Ka saw the ripples of the Alliance surge forth. Already one of the empires, the Wargh, had casted threats to the Cilids. Servants of Da'ath, the three dark lords that oversaw Nidaguk, the Land of Darkness, the Wargh troubled the Tribune greatly.
The Immortal Ka turned to a different color, a luminous beacon that glowed. It told a story of war and threats to the Qen, the Eyes of the Grace. Such intolerance was despicable. An insult to the servants of the Three could not be tolerated. The Temple was already drafting a statement that was to be issued by the Circle of Exchange. The Immortal Ka inhaled again the fragments of incense. The colors pulsed, the galaxy lived on...
Statement beamed to all receiving embassies, transmitted by the Circle of Exchange
The attack upon the all-seeing Eyes of the Graces, the infalliable Qen, by the servants of darkness, the Council of Visculon Families, must not be tolerated. This assault proves that the Council of Visculon Families is acting out of foolishness. They are unstable and a blight upon the galaxy. They serve to bring nothing but destruction and irreverent blasphemies. Suffer not these creatures of dark places. The Tribune calls upon the Others to cast out these strangers from their homes and restrict their horrid activities. We advise sanctions be placed at once upon the Council of Visculon Families and military operations commenced. The Tribune asks the Others not to indulge these beasts. The Immortal Ka, the Forever One, the all-knowing Eye, warns sternly any action taken to aid the Council of Visculon Families. May the Eyes of the Graces, the blessed and the holy servants, utterly vanquish these foul monstrosities. May they take soul for soul.
- Circle of Exchange, Tribune
Ratilum smirked to himself for a moment, he could hear the cheers from outside. Thousands of Visculi were celebrating in the streets for their great "victory". The defeat of the Qen, both in own their system and when they fought back. Although the populance was told it happened the other way around. That the Qen abominations had viciously attacked the new fiefdom, that they had attacked without warning and had killed thousands of civilians.
In reality, the Qen fleet was met with a Visculi fleet several times it size and was annihilated. No civilians were killed, in fact the colony in question is mainly popluated by sub being clones, and is a mining colony.
Ratilum pondered his plan for a moment, but his moment of quiet satisfaction was broken when one of his Vassal clones spoke.
"The council members of Lycurken and Soratius were absent again my lord."
"Are they going to be a problem?" Ratilum said, in a slightly menacing tone.
The Vassal, now sweating and becoming anxious, hesiantly spoke.
"We have been unable to contact their fiefs my lord, and they have all but abandoned their holdings on Trikkoras... and they sent no ships to aid the fleets combatting the Qen."
"I grow impatient of you telling me things I already know. What of my spies in their palaces?"
The vassal was sweating profusely. He started to stutter his words.
"Th-th-they all came back... dead my lord" He said in fear.
"Th-th-the corpses showed signs of b-b-bbrain worms my lord. The-th-they will know!"
Ratilum in one fast motion unsheathed his ceremonial knife, grabbed the vassal clone by his saetel (of which he had many cut off, and nearly all shortened) and slit his throat.
Ratilum wiped his blade on a cloth from his uniform's pocket and threw it onto the body of his vassal.
"They shall ALL BOW TO ME when this is done! NONE shall resist me!"
He gestured to his servants and they began to drag the body away. As he walked off, he yelled back to his servants.
"When they re-clone him, have that memory implanted into the flesh womb. I want him to remember his death, perhaps he won't fail me next time."
((If you haven't read up on the families that make up the Council yet, now would be a good time. The gears are turning.
http://spacemyth.pbwiki.com/Visculon%20Families
((Also, I've been reorganizing and adding content to the Wiki page for the Wargh Empire in an attempt to give it a bit more depth. Hope it ain't too boring.))
SoogaGames Blog
I'm just heading to get some sleep so this will be my last post for now. Will try and get on tommorow morning.
Edit: poast made on wiki. Might have time for one more actually.
SoogaGames Blog
That's because the Wargh have not contacted the Tribune. Their message to the Cilids said that they could bring any of their allies with them as well.
Edit: Okay, reply'd and now sleep. Look forward to seeing your response in the morning.
SoogaGames Blog