NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC As always, if you have a sane, plausible reason to get involved, either post, or poke me or CoreWorlds or Chronosia.
Basic requests: stay in third person for narration and do spell check your work.

Far Outsystem
Jurai System
Unknown Regions

Black turned to white, white turned to black, and the universe halted for a moment that took an eternity.

The Kokoro dropped off the Line into the Jurai system in a flash of light. Gravitic waves rippled from its initial position. The small, ovoid craft's two fusactors spun up to minimum speed. The tachyon drive at its plump rear burst to life with an azure flare. Despite all of this activity, the craft remained more or less invisible to all but the very impossibly close sensors, in theory. The needleship's engineers had piled on armor and recycling, and buffers and heatsinks in order to make the craft as stealthy as possible and still make in capable of surviving atmospheric reentry without the assistance of shields. Aside from the plume from its tachyon drive, which doubled as a pseudo-heatsink, the craft was just a miniscule mass on even gravimetric scanners. The drive faced away from the Jurai system's core and, presumably, away from any sensors.

The Kokoro's sole occupant leaned back in her pilot's couch. Instruments blinked at her from the low overhead. Her gloved hands lazily drifted back to the controls.

"It's been a while," mist obscured her helm's HUD for a moment. She wasn't in pain, or puking her guts out, she noted. The Choson had been utter bastards who wiped out countless Weyreans, and in sixty minutes of concentrated attack left Weyr isolated back in Sol, from where it'd take years for Weyr to emerge in force. They may have been genocidal bastards who plotted for centuries to destroy Weyr from within, but they knew their medical sciences. They allowed her to use implants without risking nerve burn, for the most part. She would not have paid the price had she been given a choice in the matter, but since she had not, she accepted it. Her fingers danced over the controls, inserting trajectory vectors.

She wondered if Daniel Masaki was still around. Time passed differently in different locations, it often seemed. She sort of remembered him, from way back when, sort of, or she thought she did. There was always the slight chance the Choson dropped a couple of fake memories into her head, although she was quite sure she had had all of them cut out.

Slowly, she fed power to the drive. The ship's two fusators shuddered, sending light, rhythmic shocks through the Kokoro's frame. Computer-controlled aptitude thrusters spat jets of compressed gas in precise quantities. Shooting tachyons in a carefully aligned azure stream, the ship accelerated on a calculated trajectory towards Jurai.

"Ash will kill me," Kira said, letting the intelligence unit within the Kokoro's gut take over the controls. "Defiitely. In fact, I'm sure he'll strangle me and chuck me out a window. So let's see if Masaki is still around. It's been a while."

Either way, even if Coredian sensors had not improved since she last had seen a Star Destroyer, they would still be definitely picking her up in a few hours, and she had no interest in being blown into basic particles for no good reason. A needleship's armor and shielding were good, but they were not meant to go against a proper warship. Which was why she sent out in pure text what more or less came out to 'Hi, I'm here to talk to Daniel Masaki. He might remember me from way back when.'

Jurai, the capital of Coreworlds, was to put it simply, a fortress system. Defense emplacements were everywhere. Mines, though deactivated unless sensors at the edge of Core space showed hostile forces, made up a big portion of the Kuiper Belt. Ships large and small patrolled the systems for trouble, making it a hazard for all but the best of those of the scum and villainy variety. And sensors were much improved since the last time Weyr met with Coreworlds.

Upon entrance into the system, Kokoro was tagged by the sensors (manufacturers guarantee that most cloaks will be seen through but the military takes that with a grain of salt) and given a couple of frigates to take a good deep-scan sniff of. The paranoia of Coredians is well-founded as the Weyreans would well remember.

But upon the query that she requested the Lightning Master, the security lessened, if only for a little bit.

The answer came back, straight from the Patriarch himself, Daniel's grandfather.

Daniel is not available at the moment. However, you can still speak with me. Please dock at Bay 2-3-8-8. I will meet with you there.

A small purple glow in the shadows of the Kokoro near Kira coalesced into a human shaped figure, which let out a Have I missed anything important? before stepping forward. These people you're dealing with..at least be wary of them. Both the Masaki and the others. If anything goes wrong, at least I'm here. You wont even need this bucket of bolts you call a ship, however much you like it. She rests against the nearest convienient ledge, tapping thoughtfully on the wall. Jedi, Sith. Pfah. In these worlds at least, they're all the same.

Odamtes V is a penal world; a former stronghold of the greatest of Chronosia's Slaaneshi Pain Masters. Taught in shadowed arts by the Dark Eldar Haemonculi themselves; these foul fiends had experimented and tormented the prisoners that came into their possession; leaving them as kill-crazed husks, ideal for the penal legion. Over time, each race the Chronosians had assault and enslaved; even then paltry fruits of skirmishes; had come to these worlds; giving them an in-depth knowledge of their prey. A carnal knowledge...

None as valued though; as she.

Captured so long ago by the Fallen Primarch, Chronos; she was a speciman beyond compare; a great jewel in their depraved crown. Every torment and tortured had been inflicted upon her flesh; her mind and soul, raped and plumbed; her entire being tested and tried. They felt certain that she was ready; soon; to be cracked. Till that joyeous day, she would remain; irrevocably trapped in Stasis; a cold and flawless speciman; awaiting the perfecting of the venoms and toxins to snap her. Such intricate torments had been prescribed by Chronos; and by Remiel before his death. Decades, fading into centuries; had paid off; and now; soon, this ripe flower would bloom. This egg would hatch.

She would be theirs...

"I love you, too, Lorain," Kira pulled off her helm.

Snapping open the crash harness, she began to stand up, and found herself floating upward as the artGrav went offline.

"See?" She grinned. "Now you made the ship sad."

She drifted past Loarain and into the head, then from there to get something to eat from the miniscule mess that consisted of a nulltropy bin and a microwave oven. The Kokoro was a very, very small ship, and besides the cockpit crammed with engineering, nagation, and control equipment, there were just four bunks and the aforementioned two small spaces, as well as some storage.

There was still no gravity a day later, when the Kokoro finally shut down its tachyon drive, and carefully, using low-powered auxiliary engines and guided by Kira's more or less steady hands, landed in Bay 2-3-8-8.

Charred black armor plating hissed, revealing an azure core. A hatch opened, atmosphere stabbilized, and Kira dropped down the two meters to the deck of the docking bay.

Standing nearby was a very old man who seem to have appeared out of nowhere. He held in his hands a well-carved cane from a tree of Kashyyyk. He is Patriarch Alexander Masaki, grandfather of Daniel and several other Masakis.

"Hello, my dear." The old man smiled nicely. "I am the Patriarch of this world, but you can call me Alex."

A speeder-limo idles nearby and the door opened automatically. "Come. Let us talk."

(Assuming that) Kira and Alex climbed into the limo and sped away.

When one was, as the Sevle were, truly immortal and possessed, as the Sevle did, of such an incredible range of "supernatural" powers, it was not difficult to become detached from...mortal...life.

It was, of course, also not difficult to remain attached.

It was a choice of lifestyle, really. Some, most, chose to exist within a Legion, which served as an anchor point so as to preven the mind from...wandering.

Others, however, chose independence. That independence inevitably led to the sort of drifting consciousness and openness to the Warp that was so greatly feared by those who clung to their life within the Legions.

However, those who instead chose independence weren't bothered. Nothing touched them within the Warp...unless they wished it.

These independents were fickle beings, coming and going from the Warp as they pleased with perfect precision and control, needing nothing more than their own minds to take them from one side of the corporeal galaxy to the other...

They were known to take a fancy to a mortal or a group of mortals, and follow them about their lives, aiding them or hindering them as the mood struck them, in ways both overt and subtle...

So it was that Kira and Lorain had not been alone on their little journey to the Jur-whateveritwas system. The exact name escaped him, not because he couldn't remember it if he had to, but because he chose not to. Such things served as a reminder that he was not as they were. When one could step between the stars as easily as a human can draw a breath, the names of systems become less and less important...and more and more confusing.

There were, for example, at least thirty four systems called "Rigel." It got very annoying, very quickly.

His name wasn't really Kade, but that was what he'd been called for as long as he could remember...which was quite a long time indeed. A very long time...so long, in fact, that he no longer cared.

So. Kade drifted along a silver stream of conciousness amidst the chaos of the warp, watching his pet mortals as they scampered about...and he didn't really smile, because the Ju-Ju System or -whatever- it was called left a bad stink about it, sort of like a cheap cologne. Very cheap. Like cough syrup.

Of course, for all his care-free nature, Kade the Sevle was considerably less flighty than was normal, because he was slowly gathering himself back up into a concentrated essence...for future use. Because it was all too possible that direct intervention might become...entertaining.

And there really was little enough point to existence that had greater value than entertainment.

"Kira," she said by way of introduction, getting into the rather impractically long and shiny transport. She idly wondered what its turning radius was. Giving up on a better way of putting it she stated her reason for being on the planet. "I need to find someone in Chronosia."

It was a horrible way of meeting someone, and she knew it, and her face reddened slightly, though it did not approach the intensity of her short, crimson hair, or the body-hugging orange overalls that still left quite a bit to the imagination. "I think you'd know her; she's the one who got Weyr into the whole Sith mess and all."

"Kira," she said by way of introduction, getting into the rather impractically long and shiny transport. She idly wondered what its turning radius was. Giving up on a better way of putting it she stated her reason for being on the planet. "I need to find someone in Chronosia."

It was a horrible way of meeting someone, and she knew it, and her face reddened slightly, though it did not approach the intensity of her short, crimson hair, or the body-hugging orange overalls that still left quite a bit to the imagination. "I think you'd know her; she's the one who got Weyr into the whole Sith mess and all."
It was a measure of the Patriarch's experience with nasty surprises that he remained calm when Kira effectively asked for help to infilitrate Chronosia. "I see. I seem to recall that you had a High King named Alicia who went missing some years ago. Putting two and two together...she's the one you need rescued, I believe?"

"More or less," Kira nodded. Except Alicia isn't High King anymore. I am. "Officially she is missing and presumed dead. Kings have done it before, but Alicia doesn't seem the type to just live everything and run. I'm sure something's up, and if she's alive..." she realized she was rambling, and turned even redder.

Scratching behind one of her long, pointed ears, she tried to finish quickly.

"Anyway, yes, I want to find out what happened to Alicia, and maybe get her back."

The speeder limo soon reach the Jedi Temple.

"You do realize, of course, that that kind of mission is very easily what we call an A-level mission." Alex said. "That, if you went through normal channels, would have a service charge placed upon it when you hire our mercenaries. Business, you see. However, since you came to me, and since it appears that it's quite urgent, I'll waive the charge. Come with me."

The old man was helped out of the limo by a young apprentice and then he had Kira follow him inside the Temple. The Temple was carved out of the side of a mountain and it has gardens and streams all over the place.

The Patriarch led her through vast halls of learning and mediation to a laboratory classroom. Inside, there were students hard at work trying to turn one object into another. Alchemy class.

"Feel the object." Jacob Masaki instructed. "Feel its molecules move and slide in your minds. Let the Force shape the object before you into something you want it to turn into."

Then a couple of students yelped in surprise as energy flared around the transmutation circles and the objects changed.

"Very good, Veronica and Ted." Jacob praised the two. Then he sensed Alex and headed out of the classroom. "Help the others. I'll be right back."

"Grandfather. What's up?" Jacob asked.

"Ms. Kira here has requested that we assist her in finding and rescuing her former High King Alicia."

"I see." Jacob nodded, having a sense of forboding. "And where was the High King last known to be?"

"Chronosia." Alex replied. Jacob simply dropped his jaws in surprise.

"If that's a problem," Kira said, looking from one Jedi to another. "How much d'you two want for pointing me in the direction of the nearest planet Alicia's probably on?"

It was the fastest way of getting somewhere, since these Jedi were about to charge her for a most-likely second-rate private army. If Kira wanted and could afford a private army, she would not have bothered going halfway across the galaxy.

"No, no. Not a problem. I was just thinking that since we are a big thorn in the side of Chronosia, we could twist that thorn a little and cause further infection..." Alex smirked.

"Grandpa, what are you saying?" Jacob asked.

"You and your brother are going with her." Alex replied.

A sudden *thunk* occured as Jacob facefaulted in shock.

"If it makes you feel better, we're just beginning mass-production of the new rifles." Alex said. "Thanks to Daniel, we've got a weapon capable of dealing with Chronosian troops on equal ground."

Jacob returned to his feet, nursing a bump on his head. "R-i-i-ight. And just how are we supposed to find one person among a bunch of hive and forge worlds?"

"If my hunch is correct, Alicia would be captured as a high-level prisoner of war. They would want her alive to break her into spilling secrets. You might want to search through known penal worlds."

"I see." Jacob said. The first problem is getting in. Then surviving long enough to find the right planet. Then surviving to get to her cell and free her. A tall order and something that's going to need a hell of a lot of stealth and intelligence.

"New rifles?" Kira blinked.

This wasn't going to be an all-out war, exactly. Why would they need weapons to go against Chronosian soldiers? She decided the Cotredians knew best, probably, even if their concepts of alchemy were strangely archaic, it appeared.

"So...what's the plan, then?"

OOC: Get your ass on MSN, now!

IC:
"Well, it does have to involve some pretty heavy intelligence..." Jacob frowned. "There's not a whole lot we know of Chronosia because they keep killing our operatives...unless...the Empire would have more information on them than we do..."

"There's some data in my archives," Kira offered. "Give me a few days, and I can probably get a link into the Imperial databases. But I guess you have that already, right?"

Weyr was technically still in the Empire, even though it had made no contributions to that organization in decades. Either way there were always data miners who accumulated data, and Kira was sure if there wasn't something she could pull from official government records in Weyr, then was still a very good chance someone in Weyr, or someone in Weyr who knew someone somewhere who had access to the Empire's data storage facilities.

Then, Alex realized that he had a trip to make to a summit meeting and began walking away. "Go on and do what you need to do. I must leave soon."

"All right, Gramps." Jacob nodded. Then he had a thought. "Kira, come with me. I know someone who can link to the Imperial databases from here."

"Okay," Kira nodded.

The business was moving faster than she had expected, and she was starting to wonder if there wasn't a catch or two that she would find out about later, most likely at some inconvenient time. Still, she didn't want to get suspicious; there'd be plenty of time for that later, probably. So she just followed this new Jedi, whose name she still didn't know and to whom she hadn't exactly been introduced. .

"By the way, I'm Jacob. You already know I'm an alchemist." Jacob said.

He lead her to a room filled with computers of all kinds and an adjacent room with several experimental objects. "Hmm. Now where is she? Brianna!"

A hydrospanner suddenly smacked into Jacob's face via telekinetic means. "Oww!"

"How many times do I have to tell you that I hate that name?!" A fifteen year old girl yelled from behind one of the computers. She had brown hair tied back in a ponytail and a pair of glasses. She seemed scorned today. "Oh, hi there. I'm Rina Masaki, the middle cousin of Jake-baka over there. I'm the resident computer whiz, if I say so myself."

"Hello," Kira bowed, slightly. "I'm Kira. You have a way of getting into the Empire's data archives?"

"Hmm. Depends on what you're looking for." Rina said.

"Well, lists of Chronosian penal planets, for a start," Kira said. She wanted to know if the kid could handle the first stages. They could move on to the more interesting and probably complicated things later.

"All right. I can handle that. Give me a little time." Rina answered. Then she slipped into what her friends and family called 'cybermode' as she connected to the Holonet and began to access the Imperial databases for the Chronosian penal colonies...

"So .. how long does this usually take?" Kira asks Jacob after ten minutes or so, mostly to stop thinking about what comes after they know where to go, more or less.

OOC: Chronosia, when you see this, let us know how many prison planets there are and if Alicia's status is in the Imperial archives or something.

IC:
"It depends. Sometimes she can take a few moments, sometimes it'll take a while, depending on Imperial encryption." Jacob replied.

The search would reveal little; little of import anyway. There were dozens of worlds; Chronosian Penal Worlds; for the training of Penal Legions and the furtherment of the Imperium's schemes. However, there were a few names that stood out; marked as classified; Top Secret. Three In fact. Three that bore the same markings; the same clearance codes, as the data on Alicia. It could take days to break the codes; perhaps weeks; but at least this narrowed their search.

However, it was only a matter of time before the Imperium acted; and their ambitions were lofty; their methods foul...

Rina worked hard, using her powerful computers and her efficient skills in hacking to figure out how to break the codes. She even contacted the military's Intelligence Corps to lend some help on the matter. She worked all night on the task, grabbing short breaks to get coffee every so often. Then it happened...she managed to break through. Grinning lopsidedly, she continued to work swiftly, passing through clearances to get to the files she saw...the three Top Secret ones. Which one was Alicia? She continues to search through...reading through the forbidden texts...

Intruder alert; Intruder alert. File security breached; Intruder The sounds blazed through the Coreworlder's computer as the mocking face flooded across the screen; a cruel scathing laughter. Discord. In all it's foul viral glory, it lauded over the files and their secrets; a being of limitless, near fluid information; knowledge incarnate. Knowledge given hateful, spite-ridden sentience.

Ah ah ah, little ones...Not for your eyes It hissed; sending it's viral engrams forth; sending surging waves of corrupting data and electicity. I'll give you this much; the rest, is up to you. It gurgled maliciously, and then was gone

"Ack!" Rena yelped as cyberdefenses sprang up, fighting the sudden overflow of viral attacks and electricity. "Dammit! You piece of--!"

That bastard...it only gave me one little piece! Rena growled as she looked over the file that she managed to pull from it. She wasn't a happy little hacker, that's for sure.

"What happened?" Kira asked quickly. It was a stupid question, she knew as soon as she said it. Obviously something had happened, but between the lack of real sleep and the gnawing thought of who was doing what stupid things in Weyr in her absence, she wasn't thinking ahead, much.

"Those freakin' Chaos! They sent me a virus attack when I got near!" Rena grumbled. "I only got a little bit before I had to break off to prevent further damage..."

"Ouchies," she winced. "Not good. What'd they do?"

Backlash was bad, and mean, and nasty, and several other things besides, espeically when it damaged hardware in the process. It was bad form, that was for sure, at least in the FDK.

"What'd you get?" Kira asked after a moment.

"So far, not much, though I'm looking. At this rate, I don't know what we're going to do to save her..." Rena winced.

"We'll figure it out," Kira grinned. "Definitely." She leaned over Rina, looking at the screen. "If you got the general location, I can find the place, and we can work up a plan once we get there!"

Chronosian Prison Planet
Coordinates Unknown

"Can you hear me, angel?"

There were voices and whispers, often self-projected, floating within Alicia's universe, the shell within the shell within the shell anchored to reality by carefully woven strands through which she would sometimes peer out at the world. The Chronosians were incapable of creativity, she had learned. They never seemed to tire of prodding and poking and slowly destroying her body, whose anguish she couldn't feel, though she let it respond as it would to their ministrations. It didn't seem to matter as much now as it did at the beginning.

Suspended in deeply subjective time, she usually slept, or crawled the subEtha net. Like the rest of her kind, she was bound to its strands, and from there it was just a matter of effort to make the unassisted plunge into the energy flows of compressed pseudo-data. She could only go so far, and manifest only for so long, but the interaction with other living beings kept her sane, when sanity was really the only thing she had left.

"Who ... are you?" she asked the voice in silence, drawing her shells closer about her metapresense.

While some amongst them were uncreative; bound by rigid thoughts and figures, methodical little tormentors and torturers; there was, of course, flares of genius. Twisted Gods amongst the mortal fold; twisting and reshaping at will; and it was these individuals who had gathered now; gathered for the moment of triumph. The Weyrian womans resolve, artificially enhanced of course, was formidible. She had slumbered in cryostasis; brought out for so many tests; but now the time drew near.

A metallic claw carressed her face; the great Man-Machine, God-Machine; Machine...Thing...Stood over her, watching with ingrained glee through artificial eyes as the injections were administered to wake the High King to conciousness. Discord itself stood before her; and gesturing with hissing talons; it directed the elite of these sadists about her.

"Soon little girl, soon..." It hissed; it's tone a cold metallic whisper; like a knife against slate. "Soon, your secrets shall be mine..."

Nano- and micromachines within her system analyzed new substances, taking cues from initial responses, deciding what to leave alone and what to siphon off for disassembly. They were an integral part of her system, their removal almost impossible through scale, distribution, and interconnection with natural tissue, powered by thermal and chemical energy drawn from what was left of Alicia's original body.

There was awareness, filtered and dim, the first few moment before she took control and let her physical self wake up. With every withdrawal from cryostasis it became easier to slip back inside, off the net and into the real. She tested the connections between the selves, for changes made while she was away.

"Soon little girl, soon..." It hissed; it's tone a cold metallic whisper; like a knife against slate. "Soon, your secrets shall be mine..."

She didn't ask what secrets she had, after all this time. Their obsession was not rational, she knew, not anymore. It seemed more a matter of pride. She didn't respond, not sure she could respond anymore.

Careful....

There was that voice, again.

Kade began to sing softly, and there was a wicked bite to his voice (can you have a voice within the Warp?) that hadn't been present there in ages. Because he hadn't been like this in ages. Hadn't been...centralized.

It was the natural order of things that a Free Sevle scattered him or herself about madly. That was easy, and had a great number of advantages...
Like a god...
You became
Like a god...

Yet it also had its limitations. Namely, one couldn't actually -do- anything. At least, do anything outside of the Warp.

Yet, now that he was whole once again...he actually felt more powerful than he ever had, and he realized why with a jolt. He hadn't been...solid...in such an incredibly long time, all the experience that his various bits had gathered had never before been consolidated. Now that it was, the results...oh my, the results.

He wasn't the Sevle he remembered. Not any more. Where once he had been the skinny younger brother of the youngest Sevle Warmaster ever, the upstart who aimed higher than any Warmaster had dreamed before...now he was...something else.

He'd always been tall, even for a Sevle. Eight feet four inches. He had looked like some sort of walking skeleton, he remembered that...painfully. Now, though...now that massive frame had filled out. Cords of rippling muscle , oh so very like Torquemada, in the end....

His violet eye stared out from his scarred but incredibly beautiful face, skin a true black with just the faintest hints of red coming through, as if an undertone.

His hair was long, the purest white of the Blooded. His body was, in all manners, about as perfect a specimen of the Sevle species as had ever before existed...and it amazed him.

Like a god...

He shut his eyelids and let his mind clear, had it been this easy before?,
and then his right hand rose slowly, and the Warp twisted and burned about his hand...and then that crackling warp-lightning was gone, and in its place was his great three-bladed, wickedly barbed spear.

His right hand grasped the long haft of that spear, and his body burned with the fury of the Warp...and then all as calm, and in the place of that torrent of warp-lightning stood the very image of a Sevle Void Striker, clad in darkest-black Relic Armor, his helmet hanging from the hook on his belt, allowing his hair to run free down the space-black cape with the Illyrian rune in white figuring prominently on it...

You will become...

His lips curled upwards in a smile set to chill the blood, and those sparkling
white fangs
teeth
...

He licks his lips, and his eye burns with the power that roared through his body...

You will become...

"So this is how Torquemada feels...I understand."

It had been so long, so very very long since he had fled reality to the Warp, a
victim of youth and the horrible accident that had scarred his face and taken his left eye...

Now the patch that he wore over that eye was more than a mere cosmetic choice. It was a shield. Because the fire that burned in his good eye burned all the hotter in the empty pit of his left...

You Are Become

Cassandros Illyrian, once the Warp-Entity Kade, laughed his defiance to the universe from the very depths of the Warp. He raised his great spear above his head, three wickedly barbed blades of a metal so black that light seemed to vanish into it, long black haft traced with silver runework, all ending in a dull buttcap of purest iron.

And his smile was that of death, and his laughter was manic...

It was never like this,
Before.

Never felt like this,
Before.

Because I lost
My life
with my sight.

Now...
Now my eyes
are open
And I Am Awakened.

like a god...