Kane
Junior Member
Posts: 87
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Post by Kane on Apr 4, 2010 16:08:49 GMT
"Oh turn it off." One of the engineers grumped, waving a hand at the holo-screen. The recording cut out in the middle, and dissapeared. The Hub was busy again, this time though protocol had been reworked to have all the speakers around one giant table. "It's obvious those machines have gone corrupt themselves."
"Quite." A scientist this time, much more proper than the engineer who had spoken. "How could anyone mistake the Bethke, a research station, for some... 'Steel Beast?' "
"I don't know, and it doesn't particularly matter either way." The chairman, the same old one who had convened here when the call to forge the weapons of war had gone out, spoke now. "We have been attacked, ladies and gentlemen. Already our forces in Arrakis and Foundation have been engaged, and we wish both of them the best of luck. However, the fleet that our convoy noted in Polaris is no doubt heading here. And we have to be ready for them."
"Should we offer them one last chance?" Another scientist, this one younger then the others of his profession. "If they arrive and see what we have arrayed against them, maybe it would give them pause?"
"It's possible I suppose..." The engineer spoke up again, rubbing his chin. "But if, and only if, they agree to finding a peaceful solution, should we invite them into our home."
"I agree." The chairman spoke, drawing attention back to him. "If they continue with their attack, we shall not let them leave. A precedent must be set; none that attack the Union will get away unscathed."
An image came to life above the table, nearly encompassing it. "A new edge for our sword must be made."
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ww2jacob
Junior Member
Qui audet vincit.
Posts: 67
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Post by ww2jacob on Apr 4, 2010 16:15:48 GMT
The system-wide transmission from RFS Galatea concluded on a stirring note, but aboard the single non-Republican ship in the Omega Ceti system, nobody was moved.
Captain Brentwood paced back and forth in front of his command chair, gazing at the large holographic map of the system before him. A massive red rash of enemy ships, belonging to the Deathspire Imperium, accelerated steadily in-system, and dozens of yellow-tagged Republic ships raced to their rally point, making ready to try and stop them.
Brentwood's position would have been simply to avoid action and make for Talos at best speed if not for two things. First, as the leader of the first expeditionary force ever sent forth from Talos, he had been tasked with diplomatic negotiations with any unknown races he might find. He had certainly found that here, although he had found the residents of Omega Ceti highly agreeable on the whole. For the last few weeks he had served as His Majesty's direct representative here in Republican space, and he had already drawn up tentative alliance agreements with the Republic.
The other consideration was a dispatch he had picked up from the Indio, the other ship in his unit, only a few hours before. Commander Rorke had reported stumbling across the system of these "Children", and they had fired upon his ship. That was, of course, an outright act of war, even if nobody back in Talos even knew it yet.
And so Brentwood was left with choosing to either honor his tentative agreement with the Republic and engage the Deathspire, or flee back to Talos and summon aid.
His eyes wandered around the bridge for a moment, finally landing on the Navy's crest, in its customary position on the wall at the rear of the bridge.
Qui Audet Vincit Who dares wins.
Brentwood turned to face the bridge officers.
"These people are our allies now, and it is our obligation to stand by them as they protect their home. We know these Children of the Light have already engaged our own forces, proving their hostile intent. Someone must make a stand, else," he gestured to the red rash on the holo-map, "this will become the fate of even Talos itself.
"I know the odds are not in our favor, and I know we may perish in this struggle, far away from home. But this is a pivotal moment in our Kingdom's involvement in this sector. Here we will make a statement. Here we will stand and say that we are honorable men and women, who will stand to fight alongside those we call friend. And should we win, we will share in the glory of this day. Regardless, we cannot forget the call to service that commands us to stand here and hold the line!"
There was no cheering aboard HMS Eternity after the Captain's speech, only a grim, professional desire to fulfill their duty.
Moments later, Eternity broke orbit and accelerated towards the Republican rally point.
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Post by Shard on Apr 5, 2010 9:31:08 GMT
The central chamber was silent and sombre. Five places were empty at the table, out of the thirteen usually filled.
Shaper Pahra, the only Shaper to fight in the apocalyptic battle of Omega Ceti and survive, clicked her fingers, the metal claws scraping over each other as she told the tale. "...fought like the fires of Deathspire himself were under them. Which, I suppose, they were."
"How did the others die?"
"Zullat of the Iceclaws went down with his Destroying Angel. The rest, including the Seer, died with the Incarnate. In total, around twenty-six thousand Children died, and we estimate similar losses on the other side, accounting for orbital bombardment and destruction of shipyards."
There was silence for a while.
"But, the battle was won. Congratulations." Pahra laughed coldly, and pulled away her helmet for a moment to take a drink of water. "We're kings of the scrapheap. It took the freighters hours to strip all the salvageable metal and components off the hulks. And I had to threaten some of them to get them to pull apart the Incarnate."
"If we won, Ghost-Shaper, then why did you order a retreat?" Hakra, Shaper of the Firehearts pointed an accusing claw. "Why did you not finish the job? They refused to surrender. It is our duty to wipe them from the universe."
"If you accuse me of cowardice, metalworker..." Pahra began, raising a gauntlet, the heat-ray in the palm already glowing. She was interrupted by a coughing fit from the Grand Scyen.
"Shapers... please. There has been enough bloodshed today. Calm your ire. Deathspire's toll has been heavy enough. We need not make it higher."
Both Shapers muttered apologies. Pahra took a breath, then spoke again. "Trans-nodal scanning indicated a large buildup of forces a few jumps away, close enough to be a threat. We did what we went to do. The Neo-terran Republic has been dealt a blow that they will not recover from fully for some time. We have demonstrated that we are not to be trifled with. It was time to cut our losses, and rethink. I saw how the Neo-terrans fought. We've grown... stupid. I saw it better than most. My cruiser was the only surviving Flamewraith. I saw both the intense fight of the claws, and the hammerblow of the beak. They tore our Kraken apart with ease. We only won by sheer numbers and firepower. I thought we prided ourselves on more than that."
The rest of the Council was silent, waiting.
"Fifty years ago, when the Iceclaws brought the first Ascendent battlecruiser to the Ghosthome arena and attacked my Spire, we won by cunning and speed. My ancestor swore an oath that no Ghost would fly from anything larger than the Flamewraith he commanded ever again. Deathspire Incarnate was a symbol. A unifier. It was also a mistake. The design crippled it. I saw her fusion reactors overload, and however many Neo-terrans she took with her, she was still a failure. We can build up, stronger than ever now. But I refuse to do it alone, and I refuse to do it as we have done. So we are going to stay here, and we are going to practice, and we are going to make sure that Omega Ceti never happens again."
"But we won-"
"And I am ashamed of it. Deathspire honoured them, not us today."
There was silence, and then the Grand Scyen broke into wheezing laughter. "I think you just elected yourself Seer, Ghost-Shaper Pahra. Who will support her?"
Every figure saluted.
"May Deathspire guide you, Ghost-Seer. May he guide us all."
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Post by Abdiel on Apr 5, 2010 23:42:01 GMT
(( This post is related to the events of Turn 6, I just didn't have the time to put it up before. )) (( I hope you won't be confused by the format switch - italics is narration, normal font is people speaking. )) 11:25 PM, Zviast system. A Savaaik fleet stands guard on the Regulus Jump node. Suddenly, a bright flash of light appears as a Hatsavat Carrier escorted by ten Kzian'tse Frigates and several support ships warp in. They bear House Immara markings on the hull.- This is Admiral Kivare Immara onboard the ISS Posemek, to the Savaaik fleet leader. Respond immediately.An image of a young captain appears on the Posemek's viewscreen. He is dressed in the traditional tight black leather uniform of Savaaik fleet.- Acting Captain, Commander 2nd grade Zimael Verona of House Savaaik speaking. I am in charge of this unit during the night watch.- Acknowledged. Who is the command officer?- Captain 1st grade Mikhail Savaaik. Do you want to speak to him?- That will not be necessary. From now on, House Immara is taking command of this fleet.- Hold on Admiral, could you repeat that?- As of today morning, House Immara is in charge of defending Valii sovereign space. We have been assigned to help you protect our installations in Zviast.- You mean, our installations! All assets in this system belong to House Savaaik!- You are young and reckless, just like all the Savaaik. This is not time for petty arguments, war is upon us. The war your House started.- War or no war, what do you think gives you the right to do this?- We have a direct order from Savaaik High Command acknowledging Immara presence in this area.- That's impossible. Hold on, I will wake up the Captain.Several minutes pass, and another figure enters the Savaaik ship bridge. He is in his sixties, with balding grey hair. He is wearing the same uniform, but with Savaaik emblem of a ship and three stars on its sleeves. He speaks in an obviously annoyed voice.- This is Mikhail Savaaik, Captain 1st Grade of the Savaaik Military, fifth in the Savaaik bloodline. I have heard some disturbing news; who am I talking to?- Admiral Kivare Immara of the Third Circle of House Immara. You are ordered to stand down and give command of this fleet to myself, or stay in command of Savaaik ships and answer to the First Shah directly.- Ordered by whom? I take orders only from the High Command and from Vladimir Savaaik himself.- The High Command has issued an order earlier today to join Immara and Savaaik fleets in defending Valii space. Since we have a superior command ship on the field, that makes me in charge.- I am sorry, I can not accept that. I will have to confirm with the High Command myself. Stand by.Mikhail Savaaik cuts the comms, while Immara ships move into position near the Jump Node. Several more minutes pass before the Captain hails the Immara again.- Admiral, I do not know where you got your orders from, but it was not the High Command. They were aware of your ships moving to intercept us, but issued no such order. You were to rendezvous with my fleet and coordinate the defense with us. Explain your actions immediately or I will have to consider your fleet in violation of Savaaik space.- We will never succeed with the Savaaik in command. You are the ones who dealt the first strike, you are the ones who started this war. Only House Immara has the manpower and the vigilance required to lead Valii forces. I also outrank you and as such I am ordering you to stand down.- Nonsense, and irrelevant. You do not outrank anyone here as House Savaaik does not answer to your Council. I am also a direct member of the Savaaik bloodline. Now, I am sure that neither of us wants to start a fight when the enemy is on the other side of this Node, so I will show some restraint in spite of my better judgement. Either you turn that pretty carrier of yours around, head back to Valii and explain this to your Shah, or you apologise, stay here and cooperate with my fleet.- The First Circle will not approve of your attitude, Captain, and neither will the Savaaik High Command.- Once again, I am not answering to the First Circle, and to be honest with you, I don't care about my impressions on the Shah himself either. Also, I am the one representing the High Command and the House Savaaik here. Listen Admiral. I know just as you do that we are facing a considerable threat and if we are divided we will fall. But House Savaaik has traveled the Nodes for much longer than you have, and we are aware of the dangers and have a reputation with other factions out there. I do not want to order your people around, although you would do best if you took my advice. But under no circumstances will I resign command of this fleet to you.- Your insolence will not go unmentioned to both the Council and to the High Command. I hope you are ready to face the consequences. But for now, I have to agree that it is in both of our Houses interest to work together. Immara ships will join your patrols, at least until the first dawn. Accept my apologies for waking you from your sleep.- Fair enough. I will now go back to my quarters. Commander Zimael Verona is in charge again, coordinate with him. But if you attempt anything before the third dawn tomorrow, or if you wake me up with more made up orders, you better pray to the Stars to watch over your bloodline.The Savaaik captain cuts the commlink, gives a few more orders to his crew, and, still annoyed, exits the bridge. Admiral Kivare Immara contemplates for a few moments what is the difference between the first and the third dawn twenty light years away from the three stars of Valii.
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ww2jacob
Junior Member
Qui audet vincit.
Posts: 67
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Post by ww2jacob on Apr 6, 2010 20:55:10 GMT
(Note: Rather than post all of this at once, as originally intended, I'm going to break it into a series that I'll post as I finish. And so, I present the first part of the Battle of Omega Ceti, from my perspective.)
Deep in the space along the fringe of the Omega Ceti system, bright lights flashed as a single ship entered the system via a jump node. This ship, the HMS Indio, was obviously damaged, streaming atmosphere from several gaping wounds in her side. Yet she advanced, surely but steadily, in-system under her own power.
***
“This is HMS Indio of the Talosean Navy requesting clearance to approach Planet Neo-Terra. Repeat, we’re requesting permission to approach Neo-Terra.
“… does anybody copy?”
Lieutenant Graves sighed. “Sir, I’ve been repeating this message for ten minutes now. Someone had to have received it. What’s going on?”
“I wish I knew,” replied Commander Rorke. “Jane, give us a sensor sweep.”
Lieutenant Commander Jane Reynolds nodded and hunched over her station for a moment. “Sir, I’m actually not picking up any- wait! There’s certainly something near the planet. Certainly not active, but large and there’s a lot of it. My best guess would be debris, but there’s no- I mean, I don’t see how that’s possible considering we’ve only been away a week. “
Commander Rorke frowned at his sensor plot for a moment, staring at various groups of whatever-it-was between his position and the planet. “I know we’re not in great fighting condition at the moment, but our engineers did manage to patch up the reactors well enough. Bring us to military power, and sound general quarters. I don’t like this… not one bit.”
Moments later, the shrill GQ alarm sounded throughout the ship, bringing all watches to battle stations.
Rorke stared at the plot for another moment, and then said, “Let’s get a closer look at this stuff. Bring us up to the one directly ahead of us.”
It took a few minutes to reach position.
“It’s definitely debris, Sir. All of it. I’ve taken a good look at this bunch, and it looks to be from a pretty sizable Republican warship. No lifepods, and there’s the debris of some smaller fighters around it that definitely don’t match any of the Republican models in our database.” Commander Reynolds frowned at her display.
“This does not bode well for the Republic, then,” Commander Rorke said. “Put us on a least-time course to Neo-Terra. We need to know what happened. And keep squawking that message, Graves. I don’t want any friendly fire incidents because somebody’s gone trigger-happy.”
“Aye, sir.”
***
The bridge of HMS Eternity was controlled chaos. Alarms shrilled, damage reports and tactical updates were called out over the noise, and new orders were fired out with the same rapidity and crispness as the missiles Eternity belched. At the center of this maelstrom sat Captain Brentwood, who consciously worked to radiate a sense of calm, despite everything else.
“Helm, bring us five degrees to port! Engineering, I need to know how that reactor’s holding up! Tactical, focus fire on Bogies 5-3 and 6-7!”
The ship was already damaged, but continued to hold pace with the Republican cruisers as they steadily retreated toward Neo-Terra. The Imperium fleet steadily accelerated forward, striving to get at the Republic’s most powerful capital ships, still sitting well out of range. The area between the two fleets, no-man’s land, was a frenzied battle between the cruisers and strike craft of the Republic and the Imperium… as well as HMS Eternity.
“There goes another one!” Brentwood’s tactical officer exclaimed, as an Imperium heavy cruiser equivalent vanished from the plot, falling to Eternity’s missiles.
The battle remained in their side’s favor, at least until those Imperium dreadnoughts, and that frighteningly massive ship, got into range. Once that happened… well, Captain Brentwood did not want to spend time even thinking about that.
(To be continued...)
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Post by Bubble Wrap on Apr 6, 2010 21:59:25 GMT
The Steel God dreamed...
Dominator breached the final ring of planetary defences as it thundered its way to the verdant world below. Its hull was breached in a hundred places, and it screamed in protest as it began to enter the atmosphere. Ships were already fleeing the doomed world, but most could only watch in horror as the juggernaut ploughed into their homeworld, its drives detonating and igniting the planets atmosphere. An entire civilisation destroyed for harbouring one of the beasts beneath the oceans of their world.
Reaper slipped into the heart of the fleet, trailing along as they fled their dying sun. The beast lay somewhere within the fleet, a single ship amongst thousands. Alone, and far from help, the Reaper ignited its antimatter store, annihilating the entire fleet to ensure the beast could not escape.
Executioner drifted haphazardly through the debris field. Sole survivor of the apocalyptic battle. Driven mad by the beasts, the people had attacked the Domain, and the two sides had clashed here. Both sides had utterly destroyed each other, but even as the life drained away from the critically damaged Executioner, it knew its kin were even now bombing the homeworlds of these people to dust.
Incinerator crushed in the gravity of a black hole as it led a mis-guided fleet of beast worshippers to its doom.
Ravager and Eliminator destroyed by a people who would rather self-destruct their own fleets rather than admit their error and submit to the cleansing fires of the domain.
Punisher. Annihilator. Reaver. Apocalypse. Arbitrator.
So many had died, and today another had nearly joined them.
Enough.
It ended now. No matter the cost, the Domain would hunt down every last beast and destroy them, and all those corrupted people who protected them. If the beasts wanted war, then war they would have, and the galaxy would be washed clean with the blood of their foolish allies.
The Steel God awoke.
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Post by Gunblader on Apr 7, 2010 1:55:12 GMT
Deep within the recesses of Unimatrix 001, the Hive Queen stood in the Neural processor, the "Throne" of the queen, where she monitored all thought and activities of the collective.
We've detected an tachyon energy anomaly in the system known as Slumberhold. Dispatching Diamonds and Spheres to investigate
"No. I conclude that this anomaly is nothing more than a giant waking from its sleep. Lets see where he goes and what he does." The Queen replied.
"We will monitor this anomaly with interest."
"Yes. Lets keep an eye on it."
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Post by Shard on Apr 7, 2010 8:42:47 GMT
The Inferno-class destroyer glided through the wreckage, its crew unusually silent. On the bridge, watching the debris spiral, Ghost-seer Pahra sat.
"Show it again."
The viewscreen altered to show a recording of the entire incident, taken from one of the surviving Ascendent dreadnaughts.
Occasionally her claws flexed.
"Again."
The video rewound, showing the Neo-terran fireship dock and then detonate spectacularly.
"Ghost-seer, we've completed the tally. Freighters are hauling the salvageable material away."
She didn't respond, the stylised eye of her helmet glowing crimson.
"So what now?"
She smoothly stood. "Are the Ascendents repaired?"
"Yes, Ghost-seer."
"Plot a course for Sirenhold. We're taking the entire fleet. Tell the Shapers I want no excuses - Deathspire must be emptied before the week is out. If we don't have the ships, build them. Tell those useless research teams to finalise their plans."
"We go to war?"
"No." The Child looked at the officer, curling her gauntlet into a fist. "We go to exterminate some vermin."
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Kane
Junior Member
Posts: 87
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Post by Kane on Apr 9, 2010 2:56:49 GMT
Through the neural link shared by all members of the Union, it was impossible for the "away" team to -not- witness the destruction of their home first hand. They saw it all, every moment of it. From when the first missile lit its drives right up to where the fusion cores that powered the Neuromancer finally went critical, and all was washed in white, then silence. The link was dead; there was nothing left to link to anymore. The loss of that virtual connection was a shock to all. The comforting presence of the Union suddenly gone. Figuratively naked and very literally alone, the remnants withdrew all presence from the Imperium's holdings, apologizing profusely but not explaining, nor ceasing. Once all on their own ship, they drifted. Drifted, and talked.
Sorrow was their first emotion. They were too proud to let themselves join their brethren in whatever was after life, too scared. But it hurt to live. Anger followed after. Anger at those that had destroyed them, robbed them of friends, family, their home. It was in this anger that logic was found once more, and reason. Vengeance had not been a part of the Union's culture... Until now.
But first, they would have to endure a little bit longer. Their numbers would dwindle if left alone. Later, this would have to be rectified. For now there simply was no time. They built their own network, linked all in it, and hatched a plan.
The Union had used near-AI before, and regularly. It served for their fighters, their soldiers. The only thing keeping them in that state, however, was a very carefully constructed safety code. It was a work of art, to be sure. It ensured that no program would ever become self-aware, while likewise ensuring that performance did not suffer.
This safety code was removed. It would take time, but sooner or later the Union would find its member base growing.
One thing that was agreed upon was that the Union was no longer applicable. The Union had been a place of peace, prosperity, art, and science. This new group was bent on war and survival. And so the Union was abandoned. In its place arose the Shattered Remnant.
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ww2jacob
Junior Member
Qui audet vincit.
Posts: 67
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Post by ww2jacob on Apr 9, 2010 3:30:09 GMT
“…and we’re the very first help to arrive?” Commander Rorke asked in astonishment.
The Republican senator stared back at him from the display in front of Rorke’s command chair. The man looked exhausted, as if he’d been steadily crushed with a massive weight. Perhaps, Rorke thought, that was at least partially true. He knew the senator sat within a bunker down beneath the surface of Neo-Terra, the ruins of what had once been the Republic’s capital city far above on the surface. Very little of the Republic’s leadership was still alive, even.
“You are, at least to our knowledge,” the senator replied. “And for your assistance we are very grateful, of course, but we’ll need more substantial assistance to even begin to recover.”
Rorke nodded gravely. The attack had devastated the Republic, not merely annihilating its navy but also destroying almost every bit of infrastructure in the entire Omega Ceti system. Rorke had been in system for a week now, and had sent a message back to Talos immediately after discovering the situation. The response had arrived the day before, stating that Talos would send a fleet at best speed to assist.
“As you know, First Fleet should arrive any day now with help. We’ll continue to do what we can here on our own, of course.”
The senator sighed to himself and nodded. “Of course, Commander. I couldn’t begin to ask anything more of you. We appreciate your continued assistance.”
Rorke smiled and nodded, then cut the connection.
“Sir,” Lieutenant Commander Reynolds said, “I’ve managed to pinpoint that beacon squawking our navy’s codes. It’s got to be Eternity.”
“Very good work. Get me an approach vector, if you please.”
***
HMS Eternity was in bad shape. Her engines were all but gone, and she was down to just a few tubes in her port broadside. Roughly half the crew was already dead, and those still alive scrambled to save their dying ship. It had been twenty minutes since the Imperium dreadnoughts had entered range, and the damage to the Republic’s light units had been catastrophic. In fact, Eternity was one of the only ships still in any state to return fire at all.
“Sir, we’ve lost all our long-range sensors, all targeting data is being piggybacked from the remote platform. The reactor is redlining and we’ve lost almost everyone in Engineering. It looks like the boat bay is gone as well but I can’t get anyone to confirm…”
“That’s enough, Lieutenant,” Captain Brentwood said. “Our people know what to do, so let’s focus on giving some back to these bastards while we still can.”
“… Yes, sir.”
“It looks like our heavy capital support is focusing fire here and here,” Brentwood said, indicating enemy ships on the plot. “Let’s join them, as maybe we can slip a missile or two through their defenses.”
“Reprioritizing fire, Sir.”
“And what do we have left to deal with these damned fight-“
At that moment, chaos erupted on Eternity’s bridge. An Imperium small craft had fired straight up the guts of Eternity’s weakened defenses, and the torpedo got through. Fire lashed out through the fore section of the ship, and the bridge took a near-direct hit.
One of the bulkheads on the bridge blasted inwards, taking out several stations and the officers responsible for them. Shrapnel tore through the bridge crew, ripping through metal, circuitry, and flesh. Captain Brentwood was hit in the leg and screamed as his uniform ripped, spraying blood. An ensign grabbed him and attempted to drag him out of the bridge into the corridor beyond. However, the captain grabbed the young man by the collar as he bent to take him.
“Whatever happens, just keep firing. Don’t… stop until they’re all… dead.”
The ensign nodded, and…
“STOP!”
Everything froze.
“We don’t need to see what happens next. Reynolds, pull the entire record and load it onto our database. The Admiralty needs to see this.”
Commander Rorke switched his display from the holo-record to the external display and gazed at the wreckage of HMS Eternity, barely two kilometers off their starboard bow. What had once been a proud warship of His Majesty’s Navy was now nothing but strewn wreckage before the backdrop of Planet Neo-Terra. Eternity’s crew had fought hard and proudly, but that still didn’t stem the pain Rorke felt. Those people, many of whom he had known personally, had died to this “Imperium”, the same unknown enemy that had tried to destroy his command. The same enemy responsible for the horrors on the surface of Neo-Terra. Commander Rorke vowed that they would all be avenged for what had happened here.
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Post by Bubble Wrap on Apr 9, 2010 17:03:23 GMT
The Steel God burned.
Fires raged in the heart of the ancient dreadnought, its irreplaceable technologies reduced to twisted metal and melted plastics. Shields failed, bulkheads crumpled and the ship was slowly torn apart by explosion after explosion.
Detached, calm, content. The Steel God felt its mortal frame dying around it. Death who had stalked it for so long had finally caught up, and the Steel God waited with open arms.
The Steel God died.
Marauder tactical command error. Remote connection terminated. Connecting... Failed. Command Net offline. No strategic command available Initiating emergency protocols Interrupt received >>> Subversion interrupt success >>> Access project file 'revenant'... done >>> Initiating project core... >>> Standby... >>> Done. >>> Resuming stealth mode. Interrupt handled successfully. New strategic command located. Command protocol transfer complete. Command Net online.
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Post by Abdiel on Apr 10, 2010 5:02:41 GMT
Aevan Immara, the First Shah and head of House Immara, is sitting in his chambers, faced with a chessboard and a projector screen. On the other side of the video commlink is Vladimir Savaaik, Chancellor of House Savaaik, with a similar board. Both leaders are now much more relaxed than before, seemingly focusing on the game more than on the war which has now pulled in more than 80% of Valii factions in one way or another. After several minutes of silence, Aevan makes his next move.
- Rook to E8. Check.
Both players move said piece on their boards.
- How are your preparations going? My Third Fleet has reached the Deathspire Node in Silent Reaches yesterday. After all that happened, I was expecting yours to wait me there already. - Do not worry, they are on their way. You Savaaik... - ...I know, I know. We always rush things. - That is not what I meant. How are our allies doing? I have not heard any news from Talos lately. - It's going fine. The Kingdom is helping the fallen Republic to rebuild, leaving us to focus on the Imperium. - Will they send any reinforcements when we strike? - I'm not sure. My cousin's taking care of it, I'll have an open commlink to him in about three hours. Queen captures the Rook on E8.
Vladimir knocks the white piece off the board and grins slightly. Aevan maintains a stone-cold face.
- How is New Eden progressing? Will the new batch of capital ships be ready on time? - Yes, it will. We'll need to reassign some captains from smaller vessels to them. - Why do you still deny anyone outside of your House to command your ships? I thought we agreed to do this together. - I run my House however I see fit. I take it the "joint fleet" of yours is doing fine? - Yes. Even earlier today, House Raspah has agreed to lend a few ships, and two dozen Mumahi for maintenance work. - Heh Aevan, running out of slaves to polish your ship decks? - At least I am not running out of captains. - Yeah, but look at the people commanding your ships. Do you think you'll be finally ready to execute your plan at the end of this week? - Do not rush things, Savaaik. We Immara think our plans through before we act. - Right... and what good have your elaborate mastermind plans gotten you so far?
Aevan thinks for a minute, then looks Vladimir in the eyes, smiles, and moves another piece on the chessboard.
- Bishop captures Queen on E8. Check-mate in one move.
Vladimir looks on his board, apparently confused. Aevan sighs, and adds:
- Your thoughtlessness will be the death of you one day.
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Post by Omega Chief on Apr 10, 2010 16:55:25 GMT
Deep under the surfaces of the still smouldering partially shattered cityplex of First Fall, a voice as cold as the reprocessed air in the bunker spoke out again, barley above a whisper.
“Would you like to repeat that Commander?” The speaker, a young, normally vibrant looking man in a formal grey suit said in the direction of a very nervous looking military officer, he formal military uniform darkened by sweat marks, his rank insignia so new, probably promoted straight from the academy, such was the state of the Republic Fleet these days.
“T-t-the C-commodore Norrit t-took the H-hades prototypes senator” he nervous commander stuttered back, “A-along with the only O-orion we had operation at the t-time”
The senator raised a hand to cut him off, at this rate all of summer would pass before the commander finished,
“Yes, alright, and he used them to commit acts of terrorism in our name, depriving us of the last of our military force in the process, leaving us almost defenceless until the Kingdom arrived! What kind of idiot did he think he was? Saving the republic, he may have doomed us! I want anyone who didn’t go with him on that attack up allowed it to happen rounded up, have our military co-ordinate with the Talosian troops, none of them is to leave the system, if we’re lucky the idiotic Commodore hasn’t totally soured our name.”
There was a pause as the frigid air caused the hair to stand up on the neck of nearly everyone in the room, “A-a-and if we’re u-unlucky Senator?”
“Then we may all end up being able to tell Commodore Norrit in person”
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Post by Bubble Wrap on Apr 13, 2010 0:21:40 GMT
Marauder watched the hulls of the new ships taking shape through the Forge's data feeds. It was a mechanical process, the same as it had been long before when the Marauder itself was built. Something was wrong this time, however. The Forge worked, but its spirit was gone. Lifeless machines toiled to construct the great machines that should have been the Marauders equals, but it knew they would not be.
The ships under construction were physically identical to the Marauder in every way, and yet they lacked... something. There was no spark of awareness in their circuitry. They would be no more the Marauder's equals than the hounds were - they would follow orders, but lack initiative. They were mere machines.
The intermittent contacts Marauder had made with Intruder in Polaris revealed the same situation throughout the Domain. The death of the Steel God had robbed the machinery of its will. It served now because that was its function, there was no eagerness to obey, no drive to achieve the great mission - just cold, empty machines toiling away.
But the forges were nearly ready. Soon, very soon, centuries of work would culminate in the Domain's single greatest achievement. And then the machines would live again, and the Domain would be made whole once more.
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Post by Shard on Apr 13, 2010 10:17:04 GMT
"You know, I don't get it."
The Valii officer strained to open his eyes. It was hot, very hot, and there was an unpleasant tingle in his skin. He seemed to be in some kind of sickbay, a hunched figure in full armour tending to his injuries. Another one, in more colourful armour, stands agains the wall, looking down at him.
"How can two different branches of the same species produce two such different results? How is it possible for your kind to be so fundamentally... deficient?"
He struggled to get up, and the doctor working on him growled warningly, pressing him back down. "Hold still, fool. You have severe radiation poisoning, the less you move, the better I can treat you."
"Wh-"
"Your battleship was sliced in half by one of our Destroying Angels. Our salvage teams were surprised to find anyone alive on it. You're lucky."
"Did you seriously think you were on anything other than a suicide run? Or were you too stupid to realise what you were up against?"
"It's... hot..."
"Cold by our standards, we've lowered the temperature by fifteen degrees and enhanced the radiation shielding. Stop whining. You'll live, though you've probably lost a few years."
"You'll be transferred back to your people when we're finished treating you and the other survivors. After all," the colourful figure growls, "There are negotiations going on. Or didn't you hear?"
"Leave him be. He's just a grunt. He can't answer your questions. He probably couldn't if he was their Seer, in his condition."
The figure grunted and left. The doctor finished sealing a gash, and then inspected his handiwork. "Contrary to what you may believe, we're not monsters. Life shouldn't be carelessly wasted. Do try and remind your superiors of that, and the fact that lies have a price. One they probably won't be able to pay."
"You... shot first..."
The doctor laughs, a harsh sound that ends in a nasty cough. "Is that what they say? We ejected you from our home system, you destroyed our scouts in your territory. You Valii do seem to love your lies. Get some rest. You'll be back among your dishonest scum of a people by the time you wake up."
The officer tried to protest, and then fell into unconsciousness as he was sedated. The Scyen sighed, shaking his head. The Soulcaller's remarks had been unhelpful, but he did have a point. How in the name of Deathspire did a people like the Valii exist?
He clicked his transmitter. "I'm done. Got another for the lifeboat."
To the pilot's knowledge, he was the last living Valii in the system. His Saakumvosta ducked through the rings of the massive gas giant, his missile launchers long since spent. For all the good it had done. Every one had been swatted down by the endless swarm of Imperium corvettes and gunboats.
He'd seen the last blip of the bombers his wing had meant to be covering wink out half an hour ago, and his radio was silent. The attack had been an unmitigated disaster, and there was no way that he'd escape the system. And the twin suns were beginning to get to him. This far out, there was no heat, but the radiation caused a steady warning sign to flash in his HUD.
What kind of a people lived in a godforsaken wilderness like this? For a moment, he realised why the Imperium called themselves the Children of the Light. Those suns, this light, had made them.
His sensors screamed as they picked up something fast patrolling the rings above. He dived, catching a brief glimpse of one of the teardrop-shaped corvettes. They might use them like fighters, but with that kind of flexibility and armament?
He flinched as a beam of plasma, like a sun stretched into a line, shot past the fragile little interceptor. He began juking wildly, remembering that the main guns on the Imperium craft didn't use tracers of any kind.
He was faster, he was more agile, but the corvette just played with him, blocking off escape paths and chewing at his heels. Here, among the floating debris, his advantages counted for naught.
Then he was suddenly clear, no sign of his pursuer. Directly ahead was some kind of shipyard - which was odd, since scans had suggested there was nothing except around the second planet.
At first he thought it was a long way off, and then he stared in mute horror, as the scale of it hit him.
"Be honoured, Valii. You are first non-Child to look upon Deathspire Inevitable."
He looked for the source of the transmission, and then dodged too late. The last thing he saw as the invisible laser beams sliced his ship apart was the titanic warship beginning to leave its shipyard.
"Total losses?"
"Minimal, Ghost-seer. We lost a few Flamewraiths, and one of the Ascendents also went down. In return, the Valii fleet was massacred. We're estimating over ten thousand enemy casualties. They are not even close to a match for us. We should -"
"We should do nothing, Fireheart-Shaper. Your skill in a fight is commendable, but now is the time to lower our guns. Let us be the gracious ones. It'll make them look bad."
"Ghost-seer, the men are baying for Valii blood. They won't be happy."
"And you think I am? My blood may run colder out in Ghosthome than your Ashensoul, but I am still a child of Deathspire. But this way is better. The Valii will pay, one way or another. It might not be as satisfying as purging them, but they will pay. Remember our priorities."
Hakra sounded mollified. "I suppose you are correct, Ghost-seer. I'll have the Valii prisoners released through the node. I'm ordering the salvage teams to transfer what they recover to the Remnant, to help them rebuild."
"Good. But stay on high alert. I don't trust the Valii not to try something else. We know they're in contact with the Domain. Just because there will be no fighting today does not mean there won't be any tomorrow. Somehow, Shaper, my gut tells me that there will be no peace until either we do not exist, or the Valii have been... reshaped. By force, if necessary."
You could almost see the toothy grin of the aggressive Shaper. "Yes, Ghost-seer."
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