NationStates Jolt Archive

Ten Years After The Artifact War

The world was monochromatic, in the old man's eyes.

He knew his mission, knew it clear as day. No one could question his right to be there, and that was why he was the one who had to do this, wasn't it?

The service pistol, big and heavy, weighed against his chest, but even as he tired, a new burst of strength came to him. He would do this...he couldn't remember why he had to, but he knew he did...

Sometimes, the need to kill overrides the other senses.

His pace was measured and slow. He was in no hurry. He walked the halls day after day; he knew where they must lead.

He came to the vast double doors. Pulled the gun from underneath his coat, and kept it out as he shut them once more. There was a single bullet in the magazine....he knew this as he cocked the weapon, bringing it into the chamber.

He walked over to the figure upon the throne. Brought the pistol up to its head.

The figure smiled and looked up at him.

"So it begins," he said simply.

The pistol fired, and everything went black.

-------------------------

Port of Osea, Comberth, Ostas Prospekt, Necros-Vacuia

"It's been a long time since we've been here."

The Scarlet Lady surveyed their surroundings. For such a major urban center, this part of Necros-Vacuia seemed oddly unpopulated, with magnificent trees lining every road, and patches of green between the buildings. "Yes... it's been a while."

"Osea's the same as I remember it, though...the Forest Gate, I remember it was called..." Tomas Rale'kauh mused. "It's so different from the Port of Yuktoban...but then again, that's where all the trade goes on."

He blinked. "I don't remember it ever being this...dead....though..."

"Yes... I've been noticing that," the Scarlet Lady said...she'd had a nagging sense of apprehension since they left their transport.

~Something has happened...~ her Beast muttered.

"Something's not right..." Youngest continued. "There aren't enough people. A major port like this should be bustling with traffic. Something has happened that we don't know about."

"Yes...but what could have possibly--"

Tomas' Beast, Embrin, blinked and turned to his rider. ~Tomas, people approach...and I do not think their intent is friendly.~

Several men in heavy, steel-blue armor, faces covered entirely by the shields of their helmets, moved towards them. The Vyrnn stiffened.

"Overwatch," he said. "And they're in Civil Obedience gear."

Youngest had travelled enough to know this situation. Having cleared customs, they had to contend with the local police force, who decided it'd be fun to pick on some foreigners again. It was the exact same thing that had happened when last they were in Gyrpnaria.

"This feels oddly familliar... I wonder what they want..."

Tomas shook his head. "No, it's not the same...if they were just going to hassle us for visas, they'd send a Civil Protection unit...these are Civil Obedience. They're supposed to handle riots."

The young man's voice shook....the Gyrpnarians had been small fry. This was the Overwatch, the most efficient...not to mention brutal...police force in the Zone.

One of the officers moved forward from the others. "Let me see your idents, citizens," he growled.

Youngest gritted her teeth. She had two passports. One was issued by Druarch when she was a young girl, and one was issued by Necros-Vacuia, on her departure ten years ago. The catch was that the Necros-Vacuian passport possessed a name that she had made up to travel across the Zone undercover.

Thinking carefully, she pulled out the Necros-Vacuian passport and handed it to the guard. It never helped to be foreigner in a situation like this.

Tomas handed his own Necros-Vacuian ID over to the guard; he'd kept his old identity, figuring that very few remembered his short career onboard the Citadel as Field Marshal al-Mohalis' aide....he would hardly be missed.

The officer looked them over, and then shook his head.

"These are out of date, and one of them looks like a forgery," he snarled accusingly through his mask. "I'm taking you both in for questioning." He turned to his comrades. "Call Dispatch and tell them we've got a 511."

Tomas' face went paler than normal. "But...but...we didn't--"

The Overwatch officer flicked a switch on his baton, and the air around it crackled with electricity. "Shut up, unless you want to be in more trouble."

Youngest jumped off her beast and approached the officer. "I'm sorry, officer, but I'm going to have to insist you leave us alone."

"Hey, Sergeant, this one served in the Artifact War--" began one of the other Overwatch men, but the leader hushed him with a swipe of his hand as he moved towards Youngest.

"Citizen, you're in no position to be insisting anything..."

Tomas' eyes narrowed. "Don't you hurt her, or--"

The leader turned and swung his stun baton into Tomas with massive force, sending the Vyrnn crumpling to the ground.

Youngest smiled. "Okay... well, two can play this game..."

Siezing the officer by the wrist, she twisted his arm until the baton fell out. Snatching the weapon, she continued in a pleasant tone. "Now let's talk like civilized people."

The Overwatch officer hissed in pain, gasping as he struggled against Youngest's grip. Tomas pulled himself to his feet, unsheathing his go'zkuten-ai as the other officers looked around nervously.

"All right, all right, that's enough, all of you," an almost tired voice called out.

"Call your dispatch," said Youngest. "Tell them that the Scarlet Lady and Tomas Rale'kauh need an escort to Eleison City."

Youngest did not want to pull her royalty into this, but it had come down to that.

"Dispatch doesn't need to know about this. Stand down," the voice said, tone commanding and firm...the Overwatch officers all lowered their clubs, and the sergeant ceased struggling with a whimper.

An ISA agent moved forward, black topcoat swirling in the wind along with his dark brown, straight hair.

"I'm Agent Kessev," he said, smiling ruefully. "If you'll follow me, I can get you that escort to Eleison; if we're lucky, that is. You have to get full relocation rights to even visit there now."

Youngest nodded apprehensively and turned to Tomas.

"Let's go..." she said.

Tomas nodded, and the Overwatch moved off as the Agent escorted them away. The retired Army officer looked to Kessev.

"What the hell is going on?" he gasped. "That was a Civil Obedience unit checking IDs!!! And on top of that, Overwatch officers seem to be the only people on the street, Agent! Is this Osea, or Nova Prospekt?"

Kessev blinked, and glared. "For one, be more grateful, Lieutenant; I just saved your ass. For two, I was going to ask you the same thing....except I was going to ask you what the hell you're doing wandering around like idiots."

"Like idiots?!" Tomas snapped. "We just arrived here, and--"

The agent's expression changed to one of shock...and then he bit his lip.

"Then you wouldn't have heard...oh, dear. I am sorry. You see....the Lord Praetor...Thraakan Arawn Naal..."

"What about him?"

Kessev drew a slow breath. "He was assassinated this morning."

<<Bespin, Utapu>>

“Ten years ago, during the Great War, or as some historians call it, the Artifact War, Our One True God-Emperor was killed by a faceless assassin. It was believed, at the time, that the Democrats of the East were behind the plot. Even after ten years of trying to find the assassin, he has slipped in to darkness, perhaps killed by his own government after his mission was a success or killed in another assassination attempt.

But the story does not end there, my children. Our One True God-Emperor was mortally wounded, yes. He died and his soul ascended to the ether from which He came in to his first life, all true. But what is more, need you proof of it, was that He returned to us on the fifth day of his death. Born again in to his lifeless body, his scars of battle still visible upon his chest. The scribes record that everything the priests of old said of the resurrection of Our God-Emperor became Truth.

In an act of restraint on the part of the God-Emperor, he did not strike out against the faceless man who killed him. My First Attack squad was in the middle of an attack run against the nation of Outer Okinaw. We were brave children, ready to die for our one true God-Emperor, as you must also be prepared to do. Our sister squadron had been sent against the southern plains, but were destroyed by superior numbers. Our squadron went undetected. We could have made it to the capitol without being seen, but were recalled. The end of Utapu’s involvement in the Great War.

Since then a generation has aged and Our God-Emperor has returned to his throne. We live by the blessings of the God-Emperor and….” The woman, who couldn’t have been more than 25, old by Utapunian standards, since middle age was 17, was interrupted by a town crier calling out to the area of an urgent message from the Holy Temple-Palace of His Resurrection.

“Hear ye, hear ye, all loyal servants to His Holiness, the One True God-Emperor of Utapu! Come and know what your God’s will shall be!” The short boy unraveled a parchment with a hand written order on it, copied from the posting of the Holy Temple.

“UTAPUNIAN EXECUTIVE ORDER 1140-011605

The Lord Praetor, Thraakan Arawan Naal, of the Dominion of Necros-Vacuia has been assissinated.

Whereas the Lord Praetor was a valued member of the Regional Deligation to the United Nations;

Whereas the Lord Praetor was a respected member of the regional conference;

Whereas the Lord Praetor was an ally of the Holy Empire of Utapu;

Whereas the Lord Praetor was a friend of the One True God-Emperor;

Whereas even in the One True God-Emperor's powers, He could not raise the Lord Praetor;

Let it hereforth be decreed that all Utapunian flags, and the flags of it's colonies, shall fly at one quarter mast to honour the legacy of the Prophet of the Predecessors. The flag shall be rasied in silence to full mast and slowly lowered to 1/4 mast to the national anthem of Necros-Vacuia. All citizens are required to attend every morning before departing to thier assigned duties. Government officals are NOT deferred from this order and are required to attended out of governmental courtesy to the Lord Praetor.

BY THE ORDER OF THE GOD-EMPEROR OF UTAPU”

The boy repeated the message in case anyone was late at arriving before leaving for the next block to repeat it all over again.

The people began to mumble among themselves, unsure of how to react. The town slowly moved to the nearest flag pole, where the Emperor’s Star fluttered high in the air. A man rushed out of his house, having changed in to what was left of his ceremonial Necros-Vacuian civilian color guard uniform, which consisted of a single ornate strap, since clothes had been banned from Utapu decades ago. The Necros-Vacuian immigrant raised a trumpet to his lip as another small group began to until the flag. As the flag was lowered, the immigrant began to play his song, the National Anthem of his home nation, as tears began to flow freely from his eyes. He couldn’t finish the song as the flag was tied off, falling to his knees and crying for the death of his Prophet.

Walter ran through the passageway in the Underground Faculties as soon as he could. As if the Sinrians were bad enough, now the Praetor had been killed. 'And just when we were making real progress with him.' He inwardly cursed. He slowed to a halt as he opened the door to Mio's room.

"Mio...I have some bad news. The Lor-"

"Thraakan has been killed," Mio said gently her back to the blonde doctor. "I know. I suppose it hasn't hit me yet. But I do have something to help me cope."

"You know that he will never be safe if they find out about him." Walter said as he approached her putting a hand on her shoulder. "Also...doesn't this make you...?"

"A Woman cannot be Praetor. Also we will have to tell someone about him after all," Mio smiled as she watched as her child played with his blocks, laughing, oblivious to what was happening in the world around him. "Thraakan would want his son to carry on his legacy."

Sidhiel was standing at the gravesite of Aine Naal when she heard the news through her wrist communicator. The Lord Praetor, Thraaken Naal, was dead. She looked up at the window of Aine's room, where Her Majesty Juliet now slept.

Taking another clove cigarette between her poison flower red lips, she thought briefly of Mana, who in some ways had been just like Aine. And was just like Juliet. 'A pity they'd never met,' She nearly smiled, 'Mana never would've wanted to go home if Emritt hadn't murdered Aine.'

Now her thoughts drifted to leaving Mana at the port at Outer Okinaw. Taking another midnight boat to escape Havarren, a constant nagging that they were being watched. But Sidhiel moved quickly... a Companion on the move is never watched for very long.

"Sidh?" Mana asked at the bow of the ship, the stars lighting her eyes. "Why did you take me from Okinaw?"

"Some things are better left unanswered." Sidhiel laughed. "How is it a concern to you anymore? You're going home."

At this, the stolen Princess grabbed Sidhiel's pale, slender hand. "I don't know if I want to go."

"...huh." The older woman blew smoke rings into the night. "And why is that?"

"I don't want to leave you."

"What about Shinji?"

"I love him. I miss him. But you opened a different world to me."

"I hope you're not trying to say what I think you're trying to say." Sidhiel's eyes flashed dangerously and she looked at Mana with a deep intention. "So, don't finish what you were going to confess. There's more than one place for that thought to go, and I don't want to hear any of them." She removed her hand from Mana's. "Go inside and get your things. We're nearly there."

"Are you going to take me all the way to the palace?"

"No." Was the curt reply. The Companion threw the remainder of the clove cigarette over the side of the boat and disappeared into the shadow.

Her boots making the usual amount of silence, she walked into the Great Palace and into the communications parlour, where Juliet was sitting, attempting to compose her first diplomatic apology. Heartfelt, but distant. Juliet had never been very good at that.

"My Lady." Sidhiel did not bow. "You requested me?"

Juliet looked up, her pretty blue eyes filled with tears. "He was so kind to me. When everybody else resented me for taking Her Majesty's place, when nobody cared for me at all... the Lord Praetor was kind and gentle."

"He loved Aine very much. You reminded him of her." the replies had been curt from the beginning, lately they'd been getting worse.

"It seems he was my only ally, even in my own country." Tears began to stain the parchment Juliet was writing on. The ink splotched and began to vein into the paper. "Am I not good enough?"

The Primary Minister of Defence looked at the tearful Highest Wench almost kindly. She moved closer, and lifted Juliet's face to stare into her own dark eyes. "You are Juliet Ardwaen d'Lac, the Highest Wench of Wenchetyria, Empress of Asphyxiatia, and you're finally beginning to understand how hard it is to rule.

"No, you're not Aine, and you never will be. Some people will resent you for that, but there's nothing you can do. You can only rule in the way that you can, leave your legacy, and move on." With that, Sidhiel let go of the Highest Wench's face and leaned against the wall, eyes closed in meditative thought once more.

"Sidhiel?" Mana spoke hesitantly. The other women looked at her questioningly. "Are you sure you won't take me all the way home?

"Did you forget the way?"

"No, but... I want my parents to meet you..."

"Absolutely not." Sidhiel slipped off her gloves and grasped Mana's hand firmly. "Good night. Lady buy you passage safely home." She let go, put her gloves back on and smartly handed Mana her luggage. Mana walked down the gangplank, Sidhiel following silently. The Companion hailed a cab, and put the Princess into it. Prepaying the driver, she sent the kidnapped girl on her way home to her family and her lover.

"Sidhiel?"

"Yes, My Lady?" She didn't open her eyes.

"Do you care at all for me?"

"I do not think you would like the answer to that question." The Companion left the parlour, and went back into the garden where Aine's grave lay. "Perhaps your brother shall be buried here as well, Aine."

It seemed almost as if Sidhiel could hear a faint whisper of laughter on the wind.

Executive Deck, The Citadel, Mahtan Prospekt, Necros-Vacuia

"Have they requested the body yet?"

The pair of Rekk assassins kneeling before Havarran Dzerrin shook their heads. "No, Executor. They will, however, sssssooner or later. Esssspecially Wenchetyria. He would have wanted to be buried with hissss ssssisssster, after all."

Havarran bit his lip. "We'll have to tell them it's an extended autopsy. In the meantime, make sure the transport goes as planned. I've received word from Ellion that he's ready when you are."

The Rekk nodded. "Afterwardsss?"

"I've already spoken with the Ssi'Ruun. You do believe you can get your people evacuated in a timely fashion, no?"

"Of courssse, Executor."

Dzerrin smiled. "You are true servants of the Lord Praetor, Rah'vruk and Ch'vara. I thank you, and pray that the Predecessors' blessing be upon you."

The Rekk bowed with a soft hiss. "We live but to serve."

Havarran bowed back. "You serve well..."

"I see through your clever ruse."

His friends called him Metz, though he preferred that they didn't do so in public where *they* might be watching. Nonetheless, he did enjoy barhopping; he mentally reviewed every bartender he ran into, and would frequently bounce obscure mixed drinks off them as a test of their aptitude. Given his tastes for women, it was also merciful that he didn't have any life-threatening diseases. Metz also sucked at poker, a fact that Punkey (Actually Felix G. Wassdog, currently sitting next to him) enjoyed (and profited from).

Punkey wondered what the fuck Metz was talking about. It didn't seem to have much to do with his current activity, namely looking down the scope of a very large sniper rifle (.330 Magnum caliber) and tracking a target at .635 KM. And it certainly didn't have a damn thing to do with Punkey tracking said distant targets with a 24x spotting scope (Infrared optional, though since this was a shoestring op it wasn't fitted).

"Huh?"
"I said, I see through your clever...ah, forget it."
"Err...ok. I see another one, moving up left side...I'd say 100 meters off to the left."
Metz slid the scope over a few degrees to the left, and seeing the new Necros-Vacuian trooper, dropped the crosshairs over the soldier's head. He set the trigger, and tracked the target's movements. Relatively regular.
"The Lieutenant?" Metz could clearly see the rank insignia on the trooper's lapel. Silly Vacuians.
"Yeah, that's the one. Drop 'im."
Metz lined up the sight slightly above the helmet of the trooper (to compensate for bullet drop) and squeezed lightly on the trigger. 1.7 lbs later, a 270-grain FMJ round exited the barrel, the fanfare neatly deafened by a two-stage sound suppressor, though the bullet's movement still triggered a sonic boom. In about 1.5 seconds the bullet impacted the trooper's skull, neatly painting a dark-red spot on the trooper's ballistic helmet.
The trooper appeared to be there one moment and on the ground the next.
Metz racked the bolt action, then picked up the ejected cartridge and slipped it in a pocket.
"Nice shot," commented Punkey.
"Thanks," replied Metz. "Looks like you're buying the next round."
"Fuck you," said Punkey.

Right on queue, Punkey's radio crackled. He pulled the reciever off his ALICE gear and pressed it against his ear.
"Metz, we gotta head back. The manager says there's a new job on the line." He clipped the reciever back on the webbing and stood, shouldering his flechette rifle in the progress.
Metz stood, removed the sniper rifle magazine, pressed a fresh round into its opening, and replaced it on the rifle. The two turned and began the 1.2km trek back to base camp.

-------

The Director was watching the vidscreen intently. The client's prepared presentation was indeed impressive. While he was not assured that the plan was exactly friendly to the Conelradian element, the pay was quite impressive - .8 beyond expenses, a huge sum for a Governmental client. This was corporate-level pay.

"We can indeed handle your needs, sir." The director fiddled with his head-mouse momentarily - it needed a new foam brow-pad, and the bare metal chafed a bit. "We can have airmobile elements in place tomorrow at 0320 hours, as requested. We will begin preparations on reciept of the advance payment."
The vidscreen showed a pop-up announcing the sudden influx of 4.7 billion roentgens.
"That should be sufficient, sir. Transports are in final flight checks...you requested the stealth option; the proper fees are included in your final bill."
The client looked pleased. For good measure, the Director wired him a vidfeed of Conelrad airmobile infantry kitting out, hauling recoilless rifles into the back of the transports, and loading their flechette rifles. Rather artfully edited by their on-site videographer, actually. Publicity was half the battle.

"Then let it be done."
The Director smiled. "Indeed."

International Intelligence Agency HQ, Arkangelsk, Nova Prospekt, Necros-Vacuia

"Colonel Runge."

The Colonel didn't look up. His eyes remained fixed on the bullet in front of him, peering across the bloodstained metal shell. The spent casing that lay beside it was also not spared his gaze. His fingers twitched, as though they were typing; which, in the Colonel's mind, they were.

"Colonel Runge."

It was big, this bullet. .50 Magnum caliber. More than enough to kill a man, especially at point-blank range. The make was familiar, very familiar. He knew this bullet from somewhere. He'd seen them before. Where?

"Colonel Runge."

Conelrad? No, the markings and craftsmanship were off. Wenchetyria? The casing should have been silver, and the bullet itself much smaller. Outer Okinaw? No, this bullet wasn't blunt-edge; it was made to kill. Utapu? There was a laugh; bullet weapons weren't exactly in style over there. Druarch? No, this was a factory-make, and nowhere near ornate enough.

"Colonel Runge."

The man slowly turned, glaring at the junior agent. "I'm....working...."

The agent nodded. "I'm sorry, Colonel, but it's important. I have those reports on Conelradian troop movements you've been wanting."

"....put them over there," Runge spoke softly, returning to his examination.

"Also, sir, someone shot an Army lieutenant over at Uhlmann. Bullet make unknown, but it wasn't friendly fire."

Friendly....fire...?

Runge's pale lips twisted up into a smile. Of course. It was so simple.

"Agent Einz."

"Yes, sir?" The young agent blinked, and felt a chill pass over him as he saw Runge's smile.

"Inform Executor Dzerrin that I have discerned the bullet's origin. It's Necros-Vacuian. Probably a Harpy Eagle; it's too big to have come from a NM450-AR."

The agent paled. "Sir, that means..."

"Yes, Einz. Yes. One of us shot the Lord Praetor." Runge flexed his knuckles. "One of us."

And as Einz ran away, Runge lifted his arm, sighted, and gave a pretend shot at the bullet, then blew the "smoke" off his finger.

"Round 1, over," the Colonel smiled. "Now...Round 2...where is your mother?"

------------------------

Ostas Relocation Affairs Building, Comberth, Ostas Prospekt, Necros-Vacuia

Kessev led the Scarlet Lady and Tomas into the flourescent-lit bureaucratic halls of the Relocation Affairs building...the two would notice right away how absent most of the offices were. Those offices that were occupied usually were filled with the sound of crying.

The Agent did not seem to notice, simply moving them on, deeper into the building.

"We should come to the central office shortly," he said, voice calm as always.

<Mandalore, Utapu>

The God-Emperor paced back and forth in his War Room in the Temple-Palace of His Resurrection. The death of the Lord Praetor had reminded him of the death of the High Wench Aine Naal over ten years ago. Sitting on his throne, He closed his eyes and began to see the events played out in his head, just as it had thousands of times before…

“My True God-Emperor, we have received telemetry from the High Wench’s shuttle. She’ll be arriving shortly.”

“Very good, keep tabs on her. We have been getting reports that another country has managed space travel and may attack her. Send out my Imperial Guard to escort her in.”

“My Lord, a number of ships have decloaked! They appear to be attacking Her Majesty!”

“WHAT! SEND MY GUARD OUT, NOW!”

“Its too late sir. Her shuttle has been destroyed.”

“NO!” The God-Emperor jumped out of his throne in a panic and ran to the control console. “The High Wench! Scramble the Guard! Destroy those ships! Protect her!”

The guardsmen sitting at the console looked confused. “My Lord, there are no ships for over 600 kilometers.”

The God-Emperor sighed as he regained his composure. “Yes… Yes, I see that now. I simply must have been viewing old telemetry records.” The God-Emperor turned away and pointed randomly at one of the radar operators. “Have him executed for his incompetence!”

Leaving the room, the God-Emperor headed towards his private chambers. Why do I still think of her? Ten years is nothing in comparison with the millions of years that I have lived. She should be another stepping stone to my goals.

“My Lord! My Lord!” A noble ran down the hallway. “My Lord! There is an army of slaves storming the Temple!”

The God-Emperor turned around in a rage. “WHAT! IMPOSSIBLE! Where are my guards? The army? The First Strike Force!?”

“All decimated, sir! The slave population has never been considered citizens and so their numbers were never considered in the census. There is an army of 100 million rushing the city. And millions more rushing the provincial capitals!”

“Prepare my shuttle, I shall go to My Star.”

The God-Emperor ran back down the hall to the launch bay, followed in short order by his Royal Guard. Climbing aboard the shuttle, the God-Emperor paused before turning to the wall on the far side. Holding out his hand, he called his ceremonial energy weapon to him. “Launch! Now!” As He gave the order, an explosion blew a gigantic hole in the side of the hanger bay and a few revolting slaves climbed in through the smoldering hole. The God-Emperor ignited the ceremonial blade, a black core with a red aura, and prepared for an attack. One of the slaves pointed a gun at the God-Emperor and shot off around a round. The God-Emperor held his blade in front of the bullet, but still it passed through the beam unhindered. The bullet hit the God-Emperor squarely in the chest. “The New High Wench’s coronation….. I discharged the energy pack…. Damn.” The God-Emperor fell backwards in to the arms of his Royal Guards who pulled him inside and closed the air lock. The shuttle took off in to the sky. From the view ports, the few nobles that had made it in to the shuttle to assist the God-Emperor looked down on the City of Mandalore. Every square inch of the ground was covered by slaves and soldiers clashing, the streets ran with blood, the Temple-Palace of His Resurrection was slowly burning to the ground.

The God-Emperor clutched his blade, the feeling slowly fading from his fingers. “Perhaps… I will see Aine one last time…” The God-Emperor closed his eyes, hearing the same words that rang in his mind for ten years. “Her shuttle has been destroyed.”

The God-Emperor held his blade close to his chest. A single tear fell from his eye as he died. Again.

Executive Deck, The Citadel, Mahtan Prospekt, Necros-Vacuia

"Executor," an aide said to Havarran Dzerrin, "Supreme Executor Arra'ki has arrived. He wishes to speak to you...apparently it's urgent."

Dzerrin smiled benignly, looking up from the IIA report on his viewscreen. "Of course. Show him in, won't you?"

The decrepit old Vyrnn moved into the room with his unusual grace, granted him by the implants that allowed him to stay mobile...however, the Supreme Executor looked unnaturally sick, and extremely overtired.

"I've been waiting for you, Raislin," Havarran purred. "How have you been?"

Raislin blinked, as if startled. "Havarran....? Yes....yes, of course it's you...I should have known....yes..."

Havarran's eyes narrowed...this wasn't going as expected. "Is there something you wanted to tell me, old friend...?"

The old man's mouth moved like a fish, once, before he spoke once more...Havarran's ears perked, waiting for it...

"Forgive me, Havarran....it...it wasn't...my....fault...."

The Executor for the Commissariat of National Security felt his heart began to pound, but he retained his composure. "Not your fault...? Whatever do you mean, Raislin....?"

"....He did it.....yes.....it....was....him...."

"Who...?"

".....the Devil, Havarran.....the Devil....himself...."

And then the old man twitched, spasmed, and the world went monochromatic once more for Raislin Arra'ki. The urge returned. The need. The desperate, singular need.

~KILL.

KILL HIM.

IT IS THE ONLY WAY YOU CAN ATONE FOR YOUR SINS. KILL HIM.

YOU MUST KILL HIM.

IT IS THE ONLY WAY.

YOUR SINS ARE UNFORGIVABLE. YOU MUST KILL HIM.

KILL HIM!

KILL!~

And with a roar, Raislin swung at Havarran with an enormous ceremonial knife he'd had hidden under his cloak, the younger Executor backing up just in time with a curse. The old man swung again, digging a trail in the wall.

Havarran grabbed for his gun as he rolled out from under the man, hugging it to his chest...he tried to talk, but barely got out a letter as the knife scraped his cheek, letting loose blood and a shock of pain...Dzerrin stumbled back.

Raislin knew this was it. Now he would do it. Now he would--

The gun went off twice. One bullet in each kneecap. The old man collapsed to the floor, sobbing, as ISA guards swarmed into the room, and a shaken National Security Executor pulled himself to his feet.

"Are you all right, Executor Dzerrin?" one of them asked, and Havarran nodded, numb...meanwhile, Raislin let out a scream.

"I DID IT! I KILLED HIM! I KILLED THE LORD PRAETOR! OH, PREDECESSORS FORGIVE ME, I KILLED....HIM....!!!!"

The Supreme Executor began to sob helplessly....Havarran turned away.

This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. No, this was not how it was supposed to happen at all. Ellion would need to hear about this. This was a problem.

"Place the Supreme Executor under house arrest for suspicion of the assassination of our Lord Praetor, Thraakan Arawn Naal," Dzerrin whispered. "And tell Ambassador Kev I need to see him. Immediately."

<<The Emperor’s Star, War Room>>

“No one must know that the God-Emperor has been killed again!”

“The nation is in panic! Mandalore has been over run and we’re getting similar reports from Bespin, Tyrell, Ord Mandell, Mustafar, Bogden, Subterrel, Rishi, Mon Cal….”

“Shut the frack up! The God-Emperor is dead, the nation is occupied by traitors, so I don’t need you reminding me that every major city is occupied!”

The nobles standing in the War Room looked at the holographic table showing city after city fall to the rebels.

“There should still be at least 20 million troops from the First Strike Force and the Crone Army left to compliment the 100 million remaining National Guard. We could send them all in to Mandalore…”

“No! This station is large enough to house an army of 120 million. Let the Rebels kill each other off in civil war, then we shall retake the cities one by one.”

“But that would give the commoners knowledge of this station! The God-Emperor would not approve, the Emperor’s Star must remain as Heaven.”

“We have no choice.”

There was a pause.

“I agree. Call every troop to the Emperor’s Star. Have the Royal Guard screen each troop as they leave their ships. Let no dissidents in the army on board.”

----------

<<The Ethereal Plane, Origin of the God-Emperor>>

The spirit of the Immortal God-Emperor flowed as a river would through the miasma of the universe. Time stood still, yet the entire timeframe of the Universe happened in an instant. Here, millions of cosmos would flare in to existence and die a cold, lonely death in an instant. But in his current state, still held to his body on The Emperor’s Star, the God-Emperor could not exploit his knowledge of the future. He could not view what was going to happen.

From everywhere in the ether, the sound of a million voices came as one: Bar’ra’tel kree’nim kara, He who is without name.

What is this? What are you? The God-Emperor managed to think.

We are what we are, here but not. Judges of every immortal in the millions of verses.

Judges?

You have broken our most sacred law, He who is without name.

Re-Entry?

Yes.

There is no death for an immortal.

There is death for the mortal body.

My spirit holds to the mortal body.

Kal’nok greetara…

No!

Kara-im gotu, He who is without name.

<<Utapau City, Bogon>>

Life far from Utapu’s shores began to wear on the aging Abbot-General Alexander Rivas. He had been assigned to the Department of Occupation in Bogon ten years ago in the height of the Artifact War. He had the task of sucking all that was left of democracy from the Bogonian citizens. It was no small task of turning this left-wing socialist democracy in to a country worth going to. While still not completely under the control of the One True God-Emperor of Utapu, the people were slowly succumbing to the police state mentality that has made the streets of Utapu so safe.

“Abbot-General! Abbot-General!” one of the many underlings that worked for General Rivas ran in to the room.

“Yes, what is it?” General Rivas didn’t look up, examining the Holy Scriptures of Vade’tine, a sect of God-Emperor worshipers that interpreted the scriptures literally and, surprisingly, accurately. They had foretold exactly what was going to happen when the God-Emperor was killed ten years ago.

“Sir, the Utapunian slaves have revolted and have occupied Utapu.”

“WHAT!?!”

“The slaves revolted….”

“I heard you, you dumb frack!” General Rivas ran down the hall to his War Room. “Switch the board to Utapu!” The nobles working in the room switched the holo-display from Bogon to Utapu. The information coming in confirmed the General’s worst fears.

“Did the God-Emperor escape?”

“Yes, sir. In fact, you have an urgent communiqué coming in from Him right now.”

“Put it on screen.”

“It’s for your eyes only.”

“Very well, in my ready room then.” General Rivas said as he walked in to an office adjacent to the War Room.

“My Lord, this is your servant Abbot-General Alexander Rivas of the Department of Occupation. How may I serve you?”

A noble from the Emperor’s Star switched on the screen. “General Rivas, I apologize, but the God-Emperor is not on the line. I am acting in His authority.”

General Rivas sighed. “Very well. Proceed, what is the Lord’s will?”

“The God-Emperor has been killed again. He shall be resurrected in a few more hours, but you are hereby ordered to ensure that no dissidence insight revolution in Bogon. You just keep that damnable country under control.”

“Yes, that’s true. Very well. I shall issue the order immediately.”

“General! News of the God-Emperor’s death is considered Code Black.”

“Yes, I figured. Understood, Rivas out.”

He leaned back in his chair, thinking for a moment before pressing a button on his desk “Nobles of Bogon, we have a new edict. Prepare for a possible revolution."

Port of Yuktoban, Sya Saigo, Torvus Prospekt, Necros-Vacuia

"You're sure this is all, then?" the Overwatch officer said, looking doubtfully at the singular, large freezer containment vessel that he'd brought on board the airboat for Rah'vruk...it wasn't like he wanted to hang arround, but...

"Yessss, thank you. You may go," the Rekk hissed, watching the officer scurry away with some amusement; like most humans in Necros-Vacuia, he feared the Rekk in the extreme.

The assassin bent, checking the power levels on the container; yes, everything was operational. He sniffed. The freighter smelled of stinky fleshling and fish. Not a good combination.

Oh, well; he could fix one of them, at the very least...loping over to the gear closet, he pulled out the body of the boat's former owner.

The dead woman's face was twisted in sheer pain; though some of the more superficial slices had stopped, her neck still bled. Amazing, fleshlings...they could be so resilient in such surprising ways.

Rah'vruk shrugged, and hummed a soft tune to himself as he lugged the body up the stairs, heaving the woman's bulk over the side nonchalantly. A treat for the fish, or maybe a young shogg-akoraal...he sighed happily as he flicked his tongue out to taste the warm south wind. Coconuts.

Sometimes, the Rekk truly enjoyed his work.

-------------------

International Intelligence Agency HQ, Arkangelsk, Nova Prospekt, Necros-Vacuia

Colonel Runge's eyes moved like darting fish as he looked over the reports from Utapu. His left hand drummed rhythm on the table like an autistic child might, still seeming to type the letters.

This was considerably interesting. Quite interesting indeed.

"Agent Einz."

The aide practically jumped. "Yes, Colonel!"

"See if you can get me a transport to Bogon. Things are becoming very interesting in Utapu," Runge smiled. "I wonder what General Rivas has to say about all of it."

"....I'll see what I can do."

As Einz left, Runge's mind whirred to life once more.

Two deaths of two of the Zone's most prominent dictators? This close together? Moreover, with a political thread of discontent to link them?

Something was going on, Runge knew. Something.

And he was going to find out what.

<<Utapau City, Bogon>>

Abbot-General Rivas paced around the War Room, internally unsure of what was going to happen, but externally put on a façade of confidence.

“Sir, we’re receiving a request from an Agent Einz from Necros-Vacuia. He requests that an escort be sent for the transport of Colonel Runge to Bogonian soil. It didn’t specify his mission, but he is a well known supporter of the late Lord Praetor.”

General Rivas thought for a minute. “Send out the Bogonian Guard. Have them meet in the Straights. I will meet with him as soon as he arrives. Although… perhaps it would be better served if he had an audience with the God-Emperor. The Lord Praetor was a good friend of His. Escort him to the Office of Occupation, he may talk with me at his leisure, but offer transport to the Emperor’s Star for an audience with the God-Emperor.”

“Yes, sir.”

IIA Wraith-class Personal Transport #T-7362-AA-7, Endora Straits, Luclan Ocean, En Route to Bogon

"General Rivas," purred Runge, as he looked at the face of the Abbot-General of Bogon upon his viewscreen. "I'm sure the good Agent Einz has told you why I'm coming. I appreciate your hospitality, especially regarding such a...serious matter."

The fingers of the Colonel tapped as he spoke...Rivas, meanwhile, answered back without emotion.

"Indeed, I will answer what I can, but..." Rivas paused, unsure if the Colonel knew the full details of the God-Emperor's assassination. "Perhaps your questions could be better answered by the God-Emperor Himself."

This was a surprise. Runge's eyebrows shot upwards. "The God-Emperor? How?"

"He is currently onboard our Code Black satellite, watching the rebellion in Utapu," said the Abbot-General softly. "Recent turns of events have disturbed Him greatly."

Colonel Runge smiled slightly. So, the God-Emperor had been resurrected once more...the IIA had suspec Interesting. This could be a good thing. Perhaps he could ascertain the news from the source itself; an unrivaled feat, as long as he didn't die suddenly or violently.

"Perhaps I should speak with him, yes....however...."

"One such thing was the Lord Praetor's assassination; the Lord Praetor was a great man, and a true friend of the God-Emperor." Rivas glowered slightly. "An organization that would assassinate the Lord Praetor would likely prove hostile to the God-Emperor as well."

He tapped a viewscreen, and it changed to a map of how a democratic Necros-Vacuia would threaten the entire West; Utapu would be the first country attacked. "We cannot allow such a thing."

Runge nodded gravely. "You need not worry, Abbot-General. Executor Dzerrin has taken extensive measures to ensure that all newborn political dissidence in the wake of our Lord's death is utterly crushed. The Dominion will remain Utapu's friend. It's just..."

He decided to impart his suspicion. It would help to have an ally, after all. "Two assassinations of such prominent and worthy men...I can't help but believe they must be connected."

"That's one of the reasons I believe you should talk to the God-Emperor," the Abbot-General replied. "He wanted to raise the Lord Praetor, and--" Rivas cut himself off, wincing. He wasn't supposed to have said that; no one outside Utapu knew of the Sarcophagus technology, and even then only a few nobles knew about it.

The Colonel's fingers moved rapidly as he considered...

This was very interesting. This, in fact, was too interesting to ignore. He had no choice.

"Yes. I think you're right...I will speak with the God-Emperor immediately."

"Very well...remain on your present course. I shall recieve you at Mustafar Air Base...from there, you will ascend to the Emperor's Star," said Rivas, unaware that he had slipped back into the mythological terms, without even thinking. "The God-Emperor shall expect you in the next five hours."

"Understood, Abbot-General, and thank you. Runge out."

"Hey man. We thought we should check up on you." The familar voice of Dr. Sullivan came from behind the other man. His head down on the bar top too exaused to cry much longer. Walter put a hand on the other man's shoulder. "Can I get you a drink Toby?"

Tobias pulled his head up, eyes bleary, barely recognizing Walter through the haze of state-produced vodka....he hiccuped as he finally registered who it was.

"I....I think...that've...I...enough...had," he managed, words slurring. "If...I much mor.....I....drunk." He hiccuped again...clearly, the doctor hadn't taken the death of the Lord Praetor well.

"An Okinaw Oyster then." Walter leaps over the bar and starts to make a strange drink using a bunch of condiments, an egg, and a bit of marichino cherry juice. "A tail of the Cat Girl that bit you."

"Anyways, you should feel proud Toby. Thraakan really thought of you as his friend." Walter placed the odd drink in front of Toby.

Tobias hiccuped and ignored the drink, grabbing a bottle of vodka and taking a swig despite his words, then pounded his hand on the table.

"Never....never even...let me...see the body. I di...I did hear...on the vi...viewscreens. Like everyone....else." He sniffled. "I...I could....coulda...saved him, goddamnit! I...I...I coulda...done...so...som...something...."

Walter leans over and carefully gives the doctor a hug. "You did so much for him already Dr. Volov. In some of the old faiths they say any man can get to paradise as long as one man will turly vouch for him."

Walter pours himself a scotch and Tobias another vodka. "To Thrakaan Naal. May his legacy strech on forever." Walter clinks glasses and downs his shot.

"Speaking of which have they read the will yet?"

Volov shook his head, drinking the vodka afterward. "N...no. Dun think...they will..." He hiccuped again, glowering at a nearby viewscreen. "Too...too much....has been...so w....wrong....sh...shit...." He pointed at a picture of Raislin Arra'ki on the screen. "I...I never...trusted...that fucker. N...never. Old...shifty..."

Tobias sniffled again. "Ha...Havarran...w...wants me...t'see...if someone altered the old....bastard's....bra...brain...don't...want to. Wish they....they shot him."

Walter tilted his head looking at Raislin's face. "Oh my." He actually chuckled a little. "You're right Tobias. There's nothing a good bullet couldn't fix in him."

"Interesting that he was the one though...wait...Tobias! Has anyone come to you with like a..." He snaps his fingers. "New music thing or to redo your room or a doctor's appointment or something like that?"

Tobias snorted. "Say his...imp...implant....mal--" He hiccuped. "Wha?"

"Tobias, I think there could be a very good reason why the old man killed the Praetor. Because they couldn't get you to do it."

Tobias blinked, and hiccuped again....utterly stunned.

Walter snapped his fingers, apparently on a roll with his conspiracy theories. "The riots in Utapu! They use similar implant technology there too correct?"

Tobias shook his head. "N...no...di...different. I...I don't...no."

"Damn," Dr. Sullivan bit his lip and then sighed. "Well it's only a screwball theory. I mean you and Rasilin were the only ones allowed to freely move around the citadel without question."

Walter shakes his head frustrated. "It doesn't make sense. Too many unrelated concidences. Not to mention the Predecessors, where were they? Ah, well you dont want to hear about the theories of a pariah."

His face brightens. "Oh we have the pictures from the delivery. Here." Walter holds out a picture of what is a first glance a man and a woman smiling over a newborn in the mother's arms. "He just turned 5."

"They....they...we...we don't...." Tobias blinked, his already slurred mind slowed further, and finding it very difficult to concentrate on anything more than one central object.

But he recognized the boy. He recognized the boy very well.

"So, is his Godfather coming to visit him anytime soon?" Walter asked playfully.

Tobias smiled just slightly. "...m....maybe. Have to...see...what ....wha...th' Executor...what he says."

Tobias hiccuped again. "He...he may...may be...the next...Lord Praetor...with Raislin...gone...no other person...w's so close to Thraakan...'cept me....Ellion K-K-Kev...the High Magistrate...has the fami...family ties, but..."

Walter drops his smile. "Ellion Kev? Where is he now?"

"S...still...in the Protectora...te...they say, though...he's abandon...his post...as Ambassador to the UN....gave it over to...an interim..."

The doctor shifted. "He...he's...third...thir...cousin...to the Lord Praetor. The Kevs were on...once part...of the Naal line."

"Uh huh...Tobias, I want you to be very very careful around Havarran. In fact, Do Not Tell Anyone About The Boy In The Picture except for us. This is to keep you both safe."

Tobias lurched. ".....You...don't think...he could've been involved? No...no. That'd be...impossible...."

"Probably is. Well, I better get back to the city. You make sure to drink that Oyster before you leave." Walter leaps back over the bar and heads for the mirror. "Oh Tobias, remember. Raislin got respect for his age, Havarran for his lack of candor, and you because you are the only Necros-Vacuian who doesn't hate him."

"God bless you Toby." Walter placed his hand on the mirror and vanished.

(This was a joint post between Necros-Vacuia and Alchemica)

Offices of the High Magistrate, Requitas City, Zu Territory, Protectorate of Xi-Okhuta

"I see," said Ellion Kev, leaning back in his chair and frowning at the viewscreen. "That certainly is unexpected...and unwelcome...

"The scans should be run by this time tomorrow; afterwards, I need to make sure that Dr. Volov passes into your care."

"Of course, of course," the tall Vyrnn nodded. "But what if they don't turn anything up...?"

"Then we may need to reexamine our plans. A third party may have become involved. Have you received the delivery yet? I sent Rah'vruk yesterday."

"No. Once he breaches Protectorate waters, I'll send the signal, but for now, don't you think it's best he runs silent?"

"Naturally. I just hope the mission is proceeding without interference. There are too many variables to consider already..."

<<Sysaigo City, Torvus Prospekt, Necros-Vacuia>>

The tall man sat in the shadows near a streetlight, his hands twiddling casually with his pistol. Despite his calm demeanor, he was, to put things frankly, stressed to high hell.

"God damn cleaners... take your fucking time, will ya...", the short, toadish man beside him muttered. "By the time they're done with that mess, the pigs'll be here."

"Excuse me... did you say the pigs?", said the tall man. "Last I knew, nobody got off a call to these pigs you speak of."

"Neighbors'll catch the stench. Then they'll call the pigs.", the toad-man spat a wad of chewing tobacco into the gutter.

The tall man took a puff on his cigar. "Calm down and wait. We didn't commit any crimes, did we?"

A door opened nearby, and yellow light spilled out into the street. A faint, salty reek, unsettling to the nose, accompanied the light, as two figures, sillhouetted against the open door, came out into the street, large, black plastic bags slung over their shoulders. Throwing them into the waste disposal truck parked outside, they climbed in and were off.

The tall man smiled. "Well, it looks like we're clear to go... let's direct these two boys to the good doctor. I'm sure he'll have a use for their cargo... or maybe them."

The toad-man shook his head. "Damn you, Valentine... if I didn't know you any better, I'd think you enjoyed this..."

The two men turned around into an alley and walked to the other end. As they climbed into the innocuous looking car at the other end, the man called Valentine made a phone call. After waiting a few seconds, he spoke. "Hello... I'd like to have a message delivered to Merrinson. Tell him that he's going to recieve some toys to play with... courtesy of his new friends... oh, and also mention that his obnoxious neighbors won't be bothering him anymore."

Hanging up, Valentine turned to his partner. "Call the boss. Tell him we completed our mission."

Ten Years After The Artifact War

Port of Osea, Comberth, Ostas Prospekt, Necros-Vacuia


OOC: You Jacked that from Ace Combat 5! *Shakes Fist*

OOC: You Jacked that from Ace Combat 5! *Shakes Fist*

OOC: Stealing names and such is nothing new to us. I steal everything from Star Wars. Honestly: Bespin, Tyrell, Ord Mandell, Mustafar, Bogden, Subterrel, Rishi, Mon Calimari, Utapau (and a misspelling: Utapu), Bogon, Mandalore, Tawani (Province), Darklighter (Province).

Do you see a connection in any of these? LOL!

<< Ki'Liso, the 86 wandering capital of Sinria >>


Song always followed Sinria, and there was no exception today. Ki'Gi'Domi (Translated to literally to "The Temple of the Prime Minister and the Seraphim") looked as grandiose as ever. It was argued that the building was the greatest so far. Stained glass windows, Great high vaulted ceilings, constantly unscuffed marble floors, paintings, tapestries, and of course it was always filled with melodious song.

The Prime Minister stood in one of the many rooms humming to herself as she arranged flowers in a glass vase placed as the focal point in the small round room. She was a beautiful woman, whom the years seemed to be gracious to. If anything her age just made her more attractive. Her hair was mostly only the pastel pink feathers hanging down around her with the remainder of her pink hair tied in a knot on the back of her head.

She stopped mid note in her humming as her pink eyes moved to the corner calmly.

"Yes? How may I help you?" Such a sweet soprano voice the Prime Minister had. Each lyric suggested so much feeling, so much... raw emotion.

The message boy blushed. Even if he had been working in the Ki'Gi'Domi for a few years now he could never get used to actually being spoken to by Gi'Sil, the beautiful prime minister of all of Sinria! He shook his head, brown feathers slightly puffing out.

"Y-Yes... I was told to inform you of the loveless' sector happenings. It seems that the Lord Praetor of Necros-Vacuia has been assassinated and Utapu has been overthrown by their slaves. It is probable that the God-Emperor may have been assassinated as well" He sung in his baritone voice.

Gi'Sil let out a small sigh as her hands drew away from the vase, taking with her one white lily as she gently traced over the petals softly in thought as she began to walk to an open window.

"We have been here in this land for quite a long while. Love already has been found here," She trilled happily mentioning their heroic accomplishment.

"We have been without our angel for far too long. I do believe it is time to begin the 87th and show the forsaken the way of love and bring our Seraphim back to us." She sung as her hand crushed the poor lily, and when her hand opened, a gust of wind let the petals free to fly to their own destination.

OOC: Stealing names and such is nothing new to us. I steal everything from Star Wars. Honestly: Bespin, Tyrell, Ord Mandell, Mustafar, Bogden, Subterrel, Rishi, Mon Calimari, Utapau (and a misspelling: Utapu), Bogon, Mandalore, Tawani (Province), Darklighter (Province).

Do you see a connection in any of these? LOL!


OOC: I only did that because It's Graham.

(OOC:........quand vous returnez, apportez le tartes. OR I BANZ U ISAAC, LOLZ.)

Yaga Installation, St. Ark, Nova Prospekt, Necros-Vacuia

"A message for you, Professor."

The lithe form of Professor Frederick Merrinson turned, extending a thin hand for the portable screen that held the message....his dark eyes scrutinized it for moments, and then he let out a sigh of relief.

"Excellent," the wiry man hissed. "You may go, Koontz."

The researcher in charge of delivery bowed and left, and Merrinson returned to the enormous tube in front of him...

Inside floated what looked like an organic gunship, lithe and smooth-lined, its blue primary core devoid of life...the Professor tapped in a few sequences on the keypad in front of him, and the previously dim readouts flared with light.

The ship wriggled slightly, and the blue core began to slowly pulse, brighter and brighter...until it became almost a beacon in the dimly lit room...

"Sequencers appear to be working just fine...nervous readouts normal...brain functions operational...primary core active. Welcome to life, Arbiter #RT-08983-VK067."

Merrinson rubbed his hands together. "Now for your primary mission...."

<<War Room, The Emperor's Star>>

The God-Emperor strode confidently into the War Room. “Update on the situation in Utapu.”

“My One True Lord, it’s good to see you up and about again,” One of the Lieutenants standing in the room began, “It would seem that all but the officials in Bogon were slaughtered by the slaves.”

The God-Emperor sighed. “Very well, begin the call for new Abbots. Read me each position and I shall name the successor.”

“Yes, my Lord.” Fumbling for the list of Ministries, the Lieutenant began to read the list. “Public Compliance?”

“Hmm. Nom Anor. He was Sub-Abbot before Rivas was re-assigned.”

“War?”

“Saesee Tin.”

“Rivas survived in Bogon, so Foreign Occupation doesn’t need to be replaced. Abbot-General of Religion?”

“Iaco Stark”

“Foreign Affairs?”

“Fang Zar. He knows how to deal with those hippies that threaten our boarders.”

“Enforcement?”

“Sena Midanyl”

“Military Affairs?”

“Sagoro Autem. And make Mas Ammeda the Abbot-General of Justice. Those two have been working together for 50 years.”

“Yes, Sir. Labor is still Taneth Shire, Health is Noa Briqualon, and Ronet Coorr, Abbot-General of Energy, all survived in Bogon assisting in the reconstruction. Still unaccounted for are Daultry Dofine – Commerce, Carlist Reiikan – Development, Pash Craken – Transportation, Sly Moore – Treasury, Myrat Agria – Agriculture. They were all en route to negotiate a border dispute near Ansion, Bogon, with the natives, and have not reported in.”

“Yes, very well. Make the appointments and get the new Abbots here immediately.”

“Yes, My Lord.” The Lieutenant walked off, list in hand. The God-Emperor stood and watched the incoming shuttle, carrying the Necros-Vacuian delegate.

<<The War Room, The Emperor’s Star>>

Being followed by the new appointees of the High Offices, one of the nobles carried with him a communiqué that he hoped would make the God-Emperor happier. Ever since He was killed, the God-Emperor has been reclusive, plotting, scheming. “My One True God-Emperor, I have good news for you.”

“Good. It’s about time I had some of that.”

Daultry Dofine, Abbot-General of Commerce, Carlist Reiikan, Abbot-General of Development, Pash Craken – Transportation, Sly Moore – Treasury, and Myrat Agria – Agriculture have all reported in from Sullust, in Bogon. They will all arrange transportation to Your Star, except for Myrat Agria, who will be attending the Microsquash Tropical Harvest Festival.”

“Yes, I see. What the hell is this Harvest Festival?”

“It’s a company wide celebration of the coconut and pineapple harvests in Microsquash and Winkos. Perhaps similar to the Founding festival in importance, I believe.”

The God-Emperor didn’t respond to that. “Pointless festivals. They didn’t keep my populace from rising against me! I kept them in the greatest of poverty to keep them from having the ability or the will to fight, I teach them that I am the One True God-Emperor!” He stood up and in a fury and pointed at one of his many servants “You! Retrieve me one of the prisoners!” The servant ran off and quickly returned to the War Room. The prisoner was forced to kneel before the God-Emperor.

“You have risen up against your God! Did you honestly think you could hope to defeat me?”

The prisoner’s voice didn’t shake or stutter as he spoke loudly. “You are a false god. You are nothing compared to the True Supreme Being…” Before the prisoner could finish his sentence the God-Emperor raised his hands and a bright red-white beam shot out of his hand to the prisoner’s forehead. The prisoner fell over screaming. “I AM THE TRUE GOD! YOU SHALL SUFFER FOR YOUR DEFIANCE!” The prisoner continued to scream as the beam seemed to grow brighter, his skin beginning to grow gray and weak. He seemed to be aging before everyone’s eyes. The God-Emperor closed his hand and said in his usual booming voice “YOU HAVE SUFFERED A LIFETIME OF PAIN. BUT IT IS NOTHING COMPARED TO WHAT AWAITS YOU! You have been found to be the leader of the rebel group in Subterrel. You shall feel the pain of death a thousand times.” The God-Emperor pulled out his energy sword and ignited it’s black and red blade. Walking up to the prisoner, apparently aged to 100 years old, the God-Emperor raised his sword and sliced the man across the chest, killing him.

“Take him to the secondary chamber. Resurrect him and kill him no less than 1,000 times. After that, bring him before me.”

“Yes my, Lord”

“Now, you new Abbot-Generals…”

Servant Quarters, Emperor's Star

It isn't easy to do a PsiMembrane constantly Ashley. Remember I'm not as spry as you Newborn Dr. Leon Kennedy telepathically sent to his contact/niece back in the City of Mirrors. He knew that others could listen in to his converstations, wasn't hard especially at this distance. So that was why he talked in one of the oldest long dead languages. The Paradise Tounge of Gei'si.
BtqTa, rgw xibareyxr ua R ur FUb. sus wzoweunwbr 81-7

That old trick? Ashley replied. 82-7 was much more fun

si bir aT rgR. ai gwew'a rgw ewoier. bir nyxg bwq aCw ainw xVubwr agyddkubf

How boring, alright. Dont let the God Heads get you down.

fiisvtw swR. vw fiis die tiye nirgwe, rwkk gwe u aUs gwkki. Leon signed off, mildly enjoying the sense of confusion he felt from the psychic watching him. He felt mildly sorry for the noble, he would be the fourth one the God-Emperor executed for being unable to crack the Paradise Tounge. Ah well, can't be helped, time to go scrub the Waste Disposal Units.

(No the Paradise Tounge is NOT Klingon. It's a code. Anyone who can crack it deserves many accolades.)

"Exccuuuuuse me <3" A soft voice came from the comm unit as a beautiful woman's face appeared on screen. Although she didn't look young, the years certainly had been good on her. She smiled warmly with her red lips as bright pink tufts of feathers fell around her face with a knot of pink hair tied to the back of her head. "Excuse me, but may I please speak to Emperor Skippy please." She just asked so nicely.... there seemed to be no way to turn the request down

Ltn. Horaki, despite being married, blushed like a schoolgirl, stood and said "I...I'lll......I see what I can do......ma'am....." and ran off. A few minutes later, Emperor Skippy and Yomiko walked in. Skippy had taken the years very well, with only a laugh line or two to show the passage of time. Yomiko, if anything, even more beautiful. Skippy smiled at the lady very innocently, and asked "What can I do for you, Ms.......?"

The woman giggled and smiled to the two. "Ah! It is a pleasure to finaly see the two of you! You are Emporer Skippy, and you must be the lady Yomiko if I am correct." The warm smile she gave, even without knowing who she was it seemed unimaginable to disagree with the woman. "Now, if I may introduce myself. I am the Prime Minister of Sinria, Gi'Sil," She said with a formal bow, "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Both Skippy and Yomiko bowed. "We are always happy to meet new people. Especially people so courteous as yourself" Yomiko said, in full friendly diplomat mode, her hand behind her back desperately trying to redo her bra clip......

Gi'Sil laughed beautifully giving a warm smile to the two "My dear, do not worry. I know of the occupational hazards of that kind and they do not bother me, nor will I take any offence. Now... Emperor," She smiled softly, the air around her was so nice… " It has been very notable in what I have heard about your great country, that you care for your citizens well being above all else."

Skippy smiled. "It is indeed true. I try do my best.....the only thing that comes before them is my family, but they help me along....." He replied. Yomiko smiled, finally succeeding, but also proud of her husband.

"I feal the same way. That is why I must ask for your help Emperor. A disturbing event has happened to Sinria... Our poor Angel has been taken to us," She said depressingly looking sadly down.

"Angel being......whom?" Yomiko asked, tilting her head to the side. Skippy's face had a similar look of questioning.

"Our Seripham. She is an angel not only figuratively, but literally as well. She was taken from us, and we have been searching for her for years now. Our Sinrians are rot with sadness, as we searched for her for 14 years now." She looked down sadly. Her face looked so depressed that it made the two feel her sadness as well. "We believe we know where she is, although we cannot reach her." She began to cry wiping away tears.

Yomiko began to choke up, her own memories creeping up on her...... Skippy's own lower lip began to quiver.... "We.....you have our support in finding her....we went through what your going through with Mana-chan...." he said, his voice barely remaining composed.

"T-Thank you. The people of Sinria thanks you." She bowed down still crying. "E-Excuse me... I will contact you soon with the information we have found so far," Saying as she bit her bottom lip, trying to regain composure. "May love be with you and all of your children."

Skippy smiled and looked knowingly at Yomiko, who blushed back. "Thank you, and the entire country hopes you find her soon."

"That means much to us. Thank you." And with that, the signal disconnected.


(This was an awsomely cool joint post between Outer Okinaw and Sinria, because they are just that cool)

The children made a big group around Kis and the child she just finish giving a free ride to. The kids seemed to love holding on and letting her bring them up in the air, although what kid wouldn't want to fly. She laughed slightly wiping sweat off her forehead with her gloved hand and sleeve, her wings shaking slightly fluffing up. She still never let the medical coat go (although it had to be cut to fit her body), although she was much more open about her appearance; not covering up completely like she did so many years ago. “Okay, okay who's next?”

"Are you sure it's okay for her to do that? Some of the Refugees have complained." Maria said to Eileen.

"Eh, let them bitch. Kis is very careful and it's about as safe as anything else here. Anyways it's good for Kis too." Eileen said smiling as she watched the kids squabble over who's turn it was.

"Okay, okay. Raise your hand if you haven't gone yet.... or yesterday.... Michael put your hand down, you went a few hours ago!" She smiled kneeling down to the boy whose hand was the only one left up "So it is your turn now," she said with another smile. "Although I'm surprised I did not see you yesterday."

"So any news about the new arrivals?" Eileen mumbled.

"Nope, finished setting up their camp a few weeks ago. Things should be getting hot and heavy soon." Maria responded.

The squeals and yells of excitement were the sign that the two had "lifted off". It was an impressive thing to watch. Although she was clumsy on her feet, in the air she flew like a pro, with a tight hold on the boy who was laughing excitedly. Up down back forward. Sometimes when the kids felt daring enough loops and spins were done, although nothing dangerous. That she always did alone.

"Didn't we do that once? I mean without the wings?" Eileen asked as she watched the show.

"Yeah," Maria said smiling at Kis' antics. "But it's not as fun, you need to put so much effort into it."

"look," The little boy said pointing to a little spec being carried in by the wind. With a smile she went to intercept it, the boys hands reaching out and catching the little white thing.

"What is it?" Kis asked looking down to him.

"A flower petal I think, look" The boy uncuped his hand bringing it up to her view as she hovered in place staring at it then.... stopped. Her wings hanging down limp as she began to fall from the air, although she griped the screaming boy tightly to her.

The two women look up sharply and jump up from their lounging positions. "Shit. Everyone please execute Plan 35. All inhabitants are encouraged to go to the Underground Faculties or place on AirMasks."

"I have her." Elieen positioned her self under the two falling forms and focused her arms outstretched to catch the two as their rate of fall began to slow.

Around the City of Mirrors people go down into manholes and folding staircases with remarkable efficiency. By the time Kis and the boy were caught by Eileen and Maria they were the only people still on the surface. "Kyle you go down with you family, Dr. Kaufman will be there to get you checked out. Now go."

The boy looked absolutely panicked. Sobbing and crying. Kis looked to be out cold, although she still unconsciously clung onto the child until she fell completely limp upon being caught. The frightened boy stiffened back tears, nodded, and did what he was told.

Maria approached with two AirMasks in her hand and one on her face. She hands them to Eileen and she places one on herself and Kis. They then help prop Kis up comfortably in a chair and gently try to rouse her with a few gentle nudges of the body and the mind. "Hey, you okay?"

Ki’sa's head lulled slightly with a moan until she squeezed her face together and shook her head quickly. She let out another moan, although this one was more like a sigh as she rubbed her head and opened her eyes back to consciousness, then her hand trailing down to the mask over her mouth trying to piece together what had happened since her arousal. "Uh... yeah...yeah I think so"

"Good, what is happening? What are the rose petals going to do?"
"Will there be more? If so how many?"
"Is there going to be a follow attack after this?"
"What will that be?"

"Eileen! Take it easy!" Maria said calming her down

"I....ah... I....." She looked rather confused, "Kyle.... is Kyle okay!?!"

"Kyle is fine" Maria said back to her

Kis let out a sigh of relief slumping into the chair. "Thank God"

"Alright. So what's going to happen next?” Eileen said putting the conversation back on topic.

"Next?...I....Idono...." Kis said looking up to the sky where more petals began to fall like it was a light snow fall beginning to cover the ground here and there. "I don't know what's going on."

"Alright, I'm going to get the source." Maria closes her eyes for a moment then opens them looking up into the sky searching. Nothing was above the city except for more petals being carried by a strong wind that ended right at the city. It seemed to go on for a long while, and contained all of the petals.

"Alright. I have it. I think Plan 639 will do nicely." Elieen said looking back to the two

"Alright. I'll get them here." Eileen nodded and stared up at the petals, after a few moments they started to falls even faster than before...no that was incorrect. They were being pulled to the city, and to a certain point as the fallen petals start to slide across the ground and starting to form a square obelisk in the clearing.

Ki’sa’s breathing started to speed up, her eyes wide. It seemed as if she was beginning to panic standing there watching the flowers in a stupor.

"It's okay. It's okay. What are these things going to do? Bury us? Explode? Send a bioplague?" Elieen questioned her.

"Too many...I...no....I..." She clutched her head as she cried out in frustration "I don't know! I can't remember!" She sobbed.

Maria grabbed her hands and forced a sense of calm into her mind. "Kis, you can remember. It's all right, in fact," Maria turned Kis away from the growing tower. "They aren't even here. See? No petals anywhere. Now, what do they do?

"Do.... Do.... What they do?....control....control... con-.....what?..."Kis mumbled almost in total nonsense to herself as if in a daze.

"Alright alright. What do they control?" Maria is slowly leading Kis away from the tower. "You were telling me about this attack where they send flower petals? What do they control?"

"Control.... control.... what?.....control..." She followed her blindly, concentrating on thinking, forgetting everything else around her "Control... control..." The obelisk was just forming it's point as the bottom began to turn into pink quartz as Kis snapped out of her daze "Elements! It is a conductor for far away control that can be used by Sinrian elemental troops!!"

"Got it! Setting a rebound transit, adding my little kick, setting identity attraction. EVERYONE NOW!" Eileen cried loudly. A massive flash of light and the huge pillar starts to sink into the mirror on the ground it was resting on, disappearing from the city slowly. Also the mirror was still gobbling up the rose petals that fell from the sky faster and faster to the point where it looked as if they were a tornado of petals sinking into the earth.

"I'll have that petal Kyle had with him sent for study. Pick it apart and more. The Flower Power should stop as soon as the rebound kick applies,’ Eileen said calmly

"Where did you send them? And what kick did you give?" Maria asked

"I dunno, the top most room of this tower they built. And as for the kick, putrification, you ever smell a rotten rose? Not nice." She answered.

"The Prime Minister will not be happy.... may.... may I please go lay down?.....” The flushed Kis asked.

“Of course Kis, let me help you back to your bed," Maria said as she helped Kisa.

"thank you~" She almost passed out again but shakes her head and goes to slowly walking back to her quarters with Maria.

"So a PsiSignature Shield on our airspace with several deadfalls both Drain and Null, set up an instant Gate if we get something in that area that even smells like flowers gate it back to them. Also get some Idemons flying around as watchdogs and get at least a gross of EyeSkies ready, I don’t want to see anything in that sky that isn't ours. Got it? Good. Move,” Eileen said as they began to efficiently move out.

(Joint post between Sinria and Alchemia Medical)

<<Top floor of Ki'Liso, the 86 wandering capital of Sinria>>

They say that day that everyone could hear the shrill cry of the Prime Minister’s scream throughout all of the boarders of Sinria. Everyone quickly rushed to the door, ready for anything that would face them… although not quite as ready for the torrent of the putrid rose petals rushing over the Minister’s quarters. After a period of screaming, fumbling, and scurrying, the room was finally closed off with a ragged looking Gi’Sil being hovered over by what looked to be half of the occupants of the tower asking about her health.

“STEP BACK!” She screamed as the clamor in the room quickly stopped with an eerie silence laying over the room. Only the sound of the tornado of rotten rose petals could be heard.

After a few awkward moments, she cleared her throat and said, “Find out who the hell is responsible for that! And see to it that it’s fixed by the end o-AAAHHH CHOO!” Her head came forward quickly as she covered her nose in a large sneeze, tufts of feathers flying into the air. Of course the Prime Minister was taken care of immediately, her loud opposition downed out by the loud worry of the group.