NationStates Jolt Archive

The Twelve that had gathered, once more, never met in the same place, or the same time. They met rarely, for they feared giving themselves away, but it was nearing the time, for years they had studied, sent out the faithful to learn the new method’s of the King. Not in disgust for his rule, for in their hearts they remained loyal to him, and their people. They where not plotting rebellion, their plans extended beyond the isles of their home. Still the Faithful had studied in secret, learnt the ways of the modern world, and where now spreading across foreign lands. Peaceful Citizen’s with not a criminal record between them, they led productive lives, showing no outward sign of the rage burning inside them, of the hate they felt.

At last one of the twelve spoke ‘The Conclave looks like it is leaning towards accepting the Elistraee as full member.’ His voice dripping with scorn as he spoke the other eleven shook their heads in disgust at this.
After awhile another of the cloaked spoke, ‘And what of the other Drow that pollute the surface with their presence and walk unchallenged amongst those our leader’s call friends, that have wormed their way back into the light and taint this planet with their presence?’ This speaker seemed filled with a rage that burnt from the inside. ‘They too will be accepted, as long as they remain away from our lands, such was the decision of the Conclave. Our temples in other lands are not to mention or speak of surface dwelling Drow, we are to let them pass unmolested.’

The shock was evident in the postures they adopted. Silence descended to the twelve a minute passed another and at last a new voice broke the silence it was one of power and control. ‘Then we have no choice the conclave has failed in it’s duty, we shall act without their knowledge or support. The Will of Seldarash is clear, and shall be enforced. We shall drive the Drow back into their holes, and then we shall finish them. Send the word out, it is time, let the Will of Seldarash be done, let the vengeance begin.’

At that the other eleven stood and bowed to the last speaker before silently merging back into the shadows of the room leaving her alone. As she stood the Light faded from the room leaving it filled with Darkness.

****Elsewhere****

He ad came to these lands as the church asked. Long had he served, a devout lay member of the Faith. He had served his people, in many ways. As a Soldier in the Royal-Guard. In that time he had learnt many skills. Now he served in a different position, he served his personal patron deity. In that cause he had left the Isles knowing it likely he would never return, he cut himself off from his friends, his family, and built a simple life for himself. A Month ago he had gathered the things he would need for his mission in these lands, and met with others of his faith. Openly they had gathered Ex-pats meeting for a drink and a talk about home. Like him most of them had been Lay-member’s of the faith. The Cell only needed and wanted a single Cleric, someone to lead them in worship of their Patron, and bless them. Someone to act as their contact to the others, and tell them if it was time.

It was time, the conclave where going to let the Drow walk on the surface where not even willing to take a moral stand on this issue. So be it, the Vengeance of the Tel’Quessar once more fell on their shoulder’s. They would bring terror to their ancestral foes.

The first death would send a signal to the other’s in many lands. It would catch the news, a family had been selected. A Young Couple, newly married starting their way. They had, in the views of the watcher’s conned their neighbours. Fooled them into thinking they where akin to the faithful of Elistraee although careful observance had assured the watcher’s they where not of that faith. They waited till the dead of night, before dropping silently into the home of the targets. A single spell was cast to silence the house of the target so no sounds would escape from within. Security Systems where bypassed with a curious blend of technological and magical methods. Now they stood above their targets, three Killer’s sent to eliminate a plague. The shots where silent, the mess left behind of the bodies would give investigator’s nightmares. As each of the Murderers choose their spots on the bodies with great care to cause as much damage as possible, blood dripped off the sheets, and the walls.

Behind them a Note was left, printed out.


So shall be the fate of all the dark’s children. The Vengeance of Sevarash upon the cursed Spawn of the Spider.

Below this was drawn a single Black arrow.


Then the Three Killers left, the last to leave cast a final spell, an Hour Later the explosion filled the night time. A violent marriage of sound and light, practically demanding attention. In the aftermath through no damage was done to home, but likely left many an anoyed and worried neighbour. This was signal to the others, when this caught the news other groups would know it was time.

((OOC so here it is, basically if you have Drow in your land, that are not worshipper’s of Elistraee no matter what type of person they are, and you want to join in, TG me or seek me out on IRC and talk to me. Otherwise it’s an open Thread. Respond as you wish… (TG me simply to get more info on the type of things the group will do if they are active in your area.) I have a few possible directions this could go worked out in my head but as with all things it’s still open))

The monitoring drone coasted serenely over the surface of Garm, all eyes and ears and other sensors, it lived to learn and watch things. Its orbit took it over one of the smaller urban communities of the planet in the dead of night when it noticed the explosion.

It noted down size, rapidity of expansion, approximate energy content, and so forth. Then it contacted, as demanded by the appropriate subroutine, the ‘fire suppression’ service. It could see a drone the size of a bus dropping out of orbit in a streak of fire like a missile aimed at the flaming wreckage of what had once been a modest ‘suburban’ house.

Sure enough the news got out quickly enough when it was discovered to be more than ‘teenagers’ accidentally exploding something, or even petty vandalism. Murder-terrorism, people were undecided and reports conflicted.

Needless to say, among the first on the scene were the local police. The police force of the C’tan weren’t used to such things, rescuing cats up trees, slinging (usually foreign) drunkards into the jug and arresting fraudsters was about their limit. They were, nevertheless surprised to see that very little damage had been done by the mostly illusory explosion. The murder within, that surprised and disgusted them. A young couple, murdered, in a spectacularly bloody manner, it was abhorrent, repellent, and worst of all, happening.

If there was one error they’d made, it was in actually claiming responsibility. As, shortly later, the agents of the ‘Imperial Security Agency’ arrived, they were quickly able to narrow their pool of suspects from around seven billion to ten million. Sheverash wasn’t unknown after all.

The interrogation of the house AI of the victims revealed little, it had been destroyed rather thoroughly, if with little finesse. Nevertheless, while it was returned to Duat for analysis of its charred remnants, anther option was prepared, for there was more than one way to skin a rabbit. Meanwhile, at a higher level than those in the field were aware of, the Elenaran’s spymaster was coordinating with the ‘non-existent’ organisation known as The Centre for the Prevention of Terrorism’ which, while it in theory owed no allegiance to anything except its own mission statement, derived much of its funding from the ISA’s budget.

“When you’re out in public, people can see you” was the motto of the ISA’s macro-surveillance department. They recorded vast reams of data, even on the movements of people on the surface sometimes. But that data was past now. Fortunately, the past was not over. Not when they had the use of the Terascope. The massive construct was designed to view events on planets in the past, a telescope that essentially peered into history. Centuries or millennia ago, in fact, merely looking back a few hours – why, that was child’s play. Soon they had the huge ring positioned to observe the house at the time of the explosion, then, coasting it back a few light seconds, they watched the masked criminals gain entry, further back they moved it in fitful jolts, recording in tremendous detail the entire crime. Then they let it run on, watching the various mirthless elven terrorists don their masks, and go about their grim work. The terascope continued to trace them, doing so quite effectively, even if they split up, it would still follow – only a cloud could stop it! And even then multispectral imaging might yet offer up secrets.

Running the data gathering at several times its true speed (by moving the terascope forwards at high speed) allowed for the gap between the observations made of the criminals and their current locations to be narrowed. Then, the ‘enforcement agents’ of the ISA set to work. Gymnasia, homes, and other haunts were pinpointed and placed under the direct surveillance of Garm’s Elenpalantiri net.

Then, at last, the time came to move in. Flash-bang ‘grenades’ and other devices were used, many of them intended to take advantage of the adept hearing and vision of the criminals. And it wasn’t just that. Gas, ultrasonic sound, assorted electroshock devices… All in all, the ISA’s people seemed pretty pissed, and in a mood for overkill.

None of the Three had expected to last long in Greater-Menelmacar, they had hoped for one last job but that was obviously not going to happen as the Flash-bangs exploded around them and the other method’s took them out. If any resisted it wasn’t going to be for long obviously, but they did try, still it didn’t last long and had little effect. None of them where too surprised, nor where the others who waited.

Lessons would be learnt through, the speed with which the response had struck would require the others to take more precautions, it was unknown at the time how exactly the team had been found. That would mean intense paranoia for the others involved, security measures would need to be increased, before the next strike. For now through the plotter’s where pleased, this was the start. Menelmacar had been chosen for it’s low crime rate, the shock of such a act would resonate throughout the land the news would be watched in other lands. Now the others waited, they would have to move again soon, to insure the Drow knew it was not an isolated incident, the goal after all was to drive the spider spawn back into the dark.

Of the three taken their fates where no longer in the hands of the church, time would tell what would occur next for them. They where strangely at peace with this fact. For now the actions of the Sevarash faithful where unknown to the rest of the follower’s of the Seldarine, the impact it would have upon them was unknown. The majority of the Tel’Quessar drifted into reverie not knowing the changes that would arise the next morning.

The headquarters of the ISA was a sizeable island in the northern ocean of Duat. As shuttles containing the prisoners landed, they were dragged out, bound, and down into the depths of that grim and forboding place’s dungeons, past striking snake symbols on walls and glass-walled areas of computers and maps and a thousand other things besides.

The ISA had a long history of clichéd holding cells and holes into which to throw its prisoners, and these were no different. In conditions that would be familiar to any coal miner, the cells into which they tossed their latest prisoners were far too small for comfort, and reeked of coal dust and even smoke. No illumination made its way in there, and there was a constant, irritating noise of machinery nearby.

It was hard to tell how long they were left in these particular holes, each one accessible only by the thick iron panel over the roof, forming part of the hallway in which they were imprisoned. Hours, certainly, more likely at least two days, In truth, far less than this, but chronometrons concealed between the ‘holes’ made it seem like far longer.

Afterwards, the first of the prisoners was removed, marched out of the corridor where these cells were, and placed in a flimsy looking seat at a table, opposite a tall, stern looking Noldorin elf with dark hair. “Just,” he asked, “what do you people think you’re doing?”

The man simply sat a moment as if considering his words, in truth he had expected to be arrested, and to have this conversation, still he was disorientated and weak from his captivity. At last through he spoke. ‘I would have thought you might understand, but I might as well enlighten you. I dealt with a problem, we will deal with a problem. You let those creatures walk these lands unopposed, you let them run around, and ignore the guilt they all suffer from.’ His tone changed from basic resignation to one of bitter anger, and his control started to slip, he had planned out so carefully but now that he was here, he couldn’t simply let it rest at that.

‘For Thousand’s of years those Creatures have hunted and slain my people, their entire race bares the stain for acts of Rape, Torture and Murder. For entire Settlements wiped out, children murdered, and forced to watch the murder of their only family. You have a crime, I believe an act you call Kinslaying, their race long ago made the acts you still feel horror and shame over appear minor actions.’ He didn’t stop now he couldn’t he had to make it clear what he was talking about. ‘Have you ever returned home from a long trip, the hope of seeing your parents, your cousins and your home once more? I have, long before I came to this world, my family was an isolated settlement, one of the last places where our race existed on the main continental mass. It was a good life, but I was never quite satisfied. So I travelled, I saw the world. Yet always I came back.’ for a moment he seemed to grow distant, almost wistful lost in memories he examined this every night in reverie, it was a feeling he never let himself forget.

That hope and homesickness, the last stages of the road, soon he would be home, his friends around him, the wanderlust sated for a while, he could spend time with his loved ones. Slowly through the wistful look left his face and it grew darker, this too he forced himself to remember each night, to remember the pain. ‘The first sight I had that last time of my home was the ember’s of the burning tree’s, my village gone. Then the bodies, hacked to pieces by monsters, at last I found a corpse from the destroyer’s…. It was a Drow, they had snuck up in the middle of the night they had descended upon my home, and killed everyone. Simply because we where of the Tel’quessar. At least I thought they had killed everyone, at first. Later as I buried the people I had grown up around, the people I had known my entire life, I realised something….‘ This was an old pain and was spoken almost matter of factually ‘Our Village had been blessed at that time with three children. I only buried one child the other two had been taken. They had been Girls you see, taken to be sacrificed to Lloth.’

If he was aware of the irony of his actions he did not show it as he went on now. ‘The Drow are not like everything else, they belong to Lloth, they where given to her by her husband Corellon Larethian, the creator of our species. Inside their hearts beats the soul of darkness, only through the child of the union of Corellon and Lloth can they find the strength to fight what is a part of their foul species, and no matter what they may claim, that is an inescapable truth. They where not Elistraee worshippers, so we cut a cancer before others had to suffer what we did. We will continue to cut it, from the surface of this world. We will make it clear to the Lloth spawn that the dark is their place, and even there they will find no shelter.’

Of the other two similar tales emerged, Shevarash attracted those to him that had suffered a similar loss as he had, in his mortal days. People for whom the hate became overwhelming. At the end when they had finished each simply looked exhausted, and satisfied.

Although at last the ‘leader’ of the three looked at the Noldor and shrugged his face becoming a bitter snarl. ‘So you wanted an explanation of our actions? You want to know why we did what we did, I’ll explain it for you. We did what we did because we are at war, we brought the war to your shores, and for that I do apologise, but it had to be done. The war has raged longer than any alive can remember, it has raged without interruption for centuries. It started with a Wife trying to kill her husband, and was reflected in the mortal world. You wanted an explanation there you have it.’

The Noldo sat through this diatribe with an expression of distaste and ill humour rooted to his features, his hands steepled in front of him. Occasionally he picked imaginary dirt from under his fingernails, and otherwise regarded the lead terrorist with a sort of bemused disdain. “Well,” he said at length, “that’s nice. I’m sure it’ll be an interesting record of your motives. Anyway, now we’d like to know about your contacts and associates.”

He smiled at the response, “Speech is not necessary. We will extract brainwaves,” he gave a curt little gesture to the guards, who hauled the elf out of his chair, backwards, which was made more painful by the way it was melded with the floor.

The Noldo rose, and brushed his hand against his jacket, “Goodbye,” he said,

---

More searching and arrests followed, of course. The next day, there were few conspirators in Mictlan outside of the custody of the authorities, using the same techniques on the few they did find to work their way up, down, and across cell structures.

Soon, the cells – more expansive than the ‘holes’ the prisoners had been put in initially, were relatively packed with suspects, sympathisers, and other agents.

---

To: Githras, King of Giltheran.
From: Klaus de Vere, Supreme Director of the Imperial Security Agency, ENE-C’tan.

It may not have come to your attention thus far, but of late a number of terrorists hailing from your nation have committed a race crime in our country. This is, as you can imagine, a grave matter indeed and we have secured verified testimony and suspects belonging to the ‘Church of Shevarash’ we would appreciate your assistance in the extradition of the senior members of this group, in order that they may be punished appropriately for being the apparent architects of this heinous crime.

With thanks,
Paul de Vere, ISA-SD.

The request was fairy simple at first glance and one Githras would have been only too pleased to agree to, if it wasn’t for a small nagging doubt. Somehow he knew the situation would turn out not to be as simple as presented here. It was for that reason he had called Melien to him the leader of the Conclave of the Seldarine the man was unofficially at least the Spiritual leader of the Islands. For the last hour they had been discussing the Church of Shevarash. Things did not look good, for a start how could he extradite the leadership of an entire church, on unknown, possibly suspect evidence, secondly was the far more disturbing fact that the Leadership was for the most part unknown.

Ever since the Nation had been founded the Faithful of shevarash had been growing increasingly paranoid, it wasn’t that surprising looking back. The Drow where everywhere, and the other churches had been drifting towards a more open policy towards the ancient foe for a long time. First the invite to a member of the Elistraee Faith to attend their gatherings, and even to speak at them. (It had been a close vote whether to allow her full membership and recognise the Elistraee faith as a part of the collective worship of the Seldarine. Now it appeared the weight was shifting towards aye.) Then the Conclave had decided to let the Drow not worshipping Elistraee but at the same time where not worshippers of Lloth or her counterparts to slide as well. In short the Church had been moving away from the others, it’s status in the Conclave more due to traditional reasons than anything else.

Even more worrying was Githras suspected the people would not understand the reasons for the entire church to be suspect. Shevarash was a hero. Before his ascension to Godhood he had done much for the Elvish people, and his church had carried on the tradition. On this world they had not adapted to the new conditions, but many would recall either through direct experience or tales told by their parents of the courage of the church, o f the debt owed by the Tel’Qussar to this Church.

Still he had to do something, and he had a few options left to him. The people would have to understand, and be shown the need for the process. That at least he could do, he hoped.



To:-
Klaus de Vere,
Supreme Director of the Imperial Security Agency, ENE-C’tan.

Greetings.

I and my wife where much grieved by your message, and we send first our sympathies to you on your peoples loss. We are angered that Subjects of these isles may have been the cause of such dire actions and offer our full support in your investigation.

On the matter of extradition, however, we must apologise that will be forced to place a hurdle before you. I cannot, under the law, simply authorise the removal of Subjects of the land. My powers are somewhat limited as such I am forced to insist that the people you request be placed under trial. To speed the process up I and my Wife will act in our capacity as a Judicial Body, to prevent any appeals of the process. However we would require and request, a copy of the evidence compiled, the testimony gained and the method by which such was achieved.

Added to this the process of the extradition trial will take place under Giltheran law, and we will be forced to take a neutral stance on the matter. After this message I am afraid I will be unable to communicate with any member of your investigation. As such any further correspondence you may have will be diverted to the Council.

On a personal note I wish you success in the upcoming months.

I Remain by the Grace of the Seldarine

Githras

King of the Isles of Giltheran
Bladesinger
Founder of the Isles.
Blessed by the Seldarine

The necrontyr government moved its case on, and soon, officials of the Imperial Prosecution Agency and the IIS – Imperial Investigation Service, were on their way via the short hop from Menelmacar to the island of Giltheran. Their evidence for expecting the questioning of senior members of the Shevarashite church ranged from the questioning of the operatives they’d captured – those who’d bothered to give speeches about their motivations, at least – to the evidence left on site. They tactfully left out mind-rip evidence, on the basis that while it was deemed acceptable, with certain obscure regulations of legal ju-jitsu, it wasn’t generally admissible in court. They’d not found much in searches of the domiciles of those they had in custody, but there was certainly enough to ‘raise questions’ was the exact terminology used.

The supposed head of the investigation, was credited as one of the IPA’s senior-most lawyers, apparently a Noldorin elf of great age and a short tempered nature to match, was named Elquessë Randircala. He leaned heavily on an ornamented staff, and seemed to be about as mirthless as it was possible to be. Dressed in black, and with a strangely compelling aura of power about him, he could almost pass as a Shevarashite cleric himself, if he wasn’t about a foot and a half too tall. His first stop was to locate legal experts from the local population, and then dispatch a letter to the Shevarashite representative in the ‘Conclave,’ requesting a meeting to discuss the matter.


Elsewhere, operations were underway to monitor the comings and goings of the Shevarashite clergy. The few members that were known were traced with satellite observation, in order to see where they went, though unfortunately, they possessed ways around that and a sizeable paranoid streak.


Surprisingly to Elquessë, the offending elf did indeed show up in his rented office. Xavin Mancha, the priest’s name was, not something that Elquessë would consider an elven name, but still. He waited, not smiling, not frowning, but looking.

Elquessë sat behind his desk, apparently alone, waiting mirthlessly, occasionally scratching the desk with his nails in a bored, pensive manner. Xavin would be a fool not to feel nervous at this meeting by now it was well known to those interested in such things, that the eternal empire was interested in the Church of Shevarash. His own arrest was not far away in likely hood. Still he felt strangely confident, there was every chance he could avoid extradition.

So he simply strode into the room, no expression on his face, with a simple nod of his head he spoke 'You wished to speak to me I hear?'
Elquessë looked up as the elf entered the room, but didn't rise, "Ah, good, please, take a seat."

An oath of not smiling and other such things does tend to limit the facial expressions a person can use, so it was here. A slightly sarcastic smirk might have been his answer to the man, but it was avoided instead he simply sat. 'For the sake of polite conversation lets get this out of the way. I am Xavin Mancha, Servant of Shevarash, and of the Seldarine.'

"I go by Elquessë Randircala," he said, rather curiously, "And I'm here to ask you a few questions about recent events in the C'tan. Firstly," he said, taking a conventional looking photograph out, displaying a broken arrow symbol over a 'teardrop' that might just as easily be a flame, "do you recognise this symbol?"

The man stared a second, before looking up at Elquessë... 'Really if your going to ask me rather simple questions such as that I fear I am wasting my time. Yes I recognise the symbol, it is the symbol of my faith and my god.'

"And, what would you make of this?" he asked, taking a reproduction of the card that had been left at the murder site, and putting it on the table. Taking a moment to look over the card the man shrugged. 'It would appear some of the Faithful decided to act on their beliefs directly. In it's way quite admirable, I must admit to applauding them for taking a stand. So few do so on this world.'

"And you should be glad of it," he whispered, taking another sheet, this one a transcript of the 'statement' given by the first of the murderers.
Looking over the Transcript Xavin shrugged before continuing in a pained tone. 'You hopefully will be surprised at how common his tale is. How many of our church are drawn from the direct victims of the Drow. Of course that is not all we draw from, but usually if you look at our church you will find people who have been hurt by their species. Much as Shevarash was.'

He took another sheet, this one a graphic image of the actual crime itself, "And, do you have any reaction to this?"
He shrugged, his tone empty of concern, his body language seemingly unphased by what he saw before him 'Were they Elistraee worshippers?'

"I don't know. I doubt the murderers knew, either, for that matter. It's not as if we collect data on people's religion. Though I suppose we might have to after this."
'Your not a religious man are you sir? I can tell, I can understand that. I suspect the Murderer's ad every chance to determine the victims religion. If you have Temples to Elistraee in your lands, watching for attendence of such places would be a good place to start, if not it's even easier.'

"My religious beliefs would surprise you," he said, "As for that, I know for a fact that this is not possible, given the range over which our people tend to commute."
He nodded 'Hmm well in any case I suspect that was not your questions true intent, still it should be pointed out that if you failed to find any Elistraee idols or other such trappings I suspect you will find they where not Elistraee worshipper's. I would also suggest that if the perpetrator’s of these acts where truly acting in what they felt was Shevarash's will they would have made sure their targets where not Elistraee worshippers'

"So, all Drow who are not Elistraee worshippers should be killed?" he asked.
'An interesting question, can a Drow return to the Tel'Quassar through means other than Elistraee. In my experience the answer is no. Do you allow a dangerous wild animal to run free?'
"You bet," he says, "We have sharks, lions, tigers, eagles, kites, giant squid, rhinoceroses... you want me to continue?"
'A Fair answer as I did not make myself clear perhaps a better analogy would be better. If the Wild Animal has shown a liking for sentient Flesh do you allow it live, if it is Rabid and uncontrollable...'
"Where at all possible, most certainly, why, you'll even find tyranids in our zoos," he says, "But beside that, do you believe that these particular drow have committed any crime?"
He shakes his head, seeming momentarily puzzled at the mention of ‘tyranids’ and his eventual answer entirely truthful if evasive 'You presume I know these particular Drow... I cannot speak for what are to me merely two individuals whose Photo you have shown me.'

"Please answer yes or no. Do you believe that the drow who were murdered have personally committed any wrong of sufficient magnitude to deserve death?"
'As I said I cannot tell, still if you want me to voice suspicions, my personal guess would be yes.' His hands raised in a gesture of annoyance 'Assuming they had not turned from Lolth to the support of Elistraee, the nature of the Drow has been shown to be murderous time and time again.'
"So, you believe that individuals should be punished when others of their species are proven to be murderous?"

Now anger entered his gestures. 'Really what do you know of it, you Noldor. Have you seen the Evil they as a Species have wrought across entire Planes, seen the fear the very concept of a single Drow rises in entire species. Did you know that Devil's and Tana’ari hold the Drow and their ways up as things to be admired? We are not talking of individuals here we are talking of an entire species. The individuals are the lone exceptions...

'The truth of the Drow is Evil, it is the species wide fact, and it is the rare Drow that turns away from it'
"Shall I take that as a yes?" he answered with an implacable calmness, before muttering "Devils and demons," derisively.
Shaking his head he answered quite calmly now. 'No I would say take it that every rule has an exception. 'The sins of the father' do not get passed onto the children. Or else the sins of your ancestor's would be your sins. But when you observe a pattern for multiple generations, unchanging it becomes a rule.'
"It has changed, you should realise that," he said, "you and your followers."

Standing now he shrugged 'It will take more than a few platitudes and empty gestures to convince me of that sir. You are saying they have changed, the weight of Thousands upon thousands of years, Hundreds of generations and the essential nature of species is against it.' With a slight bow he turned as if to leave. 'Now I suppose we have finished here a Theological debate is interesting but I suspect fruitless here...'
"Yes, indeed. I shall inform my superior that it is your opinion that for this crime, Giltheran should be obliterated," he at last smiled. It wasn't a nice smile.

''Have you seen a pattern yet then... an unchanging example of rape perhaps of torture of Sentients sacrificed for no other reason than a jealous Grasping Bitch demand's it?' With that he did turn and stark from the room.
"Oh yes," he said, "Yes indeed."

“It is the verdict of this court that you have been found guilty by your own testimony of premeditated murder, in view of this, and the despicable nature of your crime, motivated solely by prejudiced religious faith, the court feels constrained to hand down a sentence of sufficient magnitude and dissuasive power to adequately reflect the deep disgust that is felt both by us and throughout the nation at your actions. It is therefore our decision that you shall be taken from this place, without possibility of reprieve or parole, to the world of Netu, there to be imprisoned in solitary confinement provided by automated dungeons, for the next one thousand years, with whatever medical treatment and restraint is necessary to ensure your survival until completion of sentence without option of judicial execution. However, due to your honesty in confessing to your crimes, I also order that additional entertainment and visitors be permitted. Your crimes have disgusted a nation, and you should consider yourselves fortunate that this is the limit of our retribution.”

- Sentencing of the murderers, Judge Jessica Jurot

Imperial Palace, Duat

Ilcathelma Ilsaindo tapped her foot impatiently as the ornate lift moved. Its doors slid open slowly, and she stepped out into the corridor of the Imperial Palace beyond. She was short, for an elf, and with unusual hair, so blonde it seemed white except to close inspection. She was one of Menelmacar’s Vanyar, a smallish group of elves, normally taller than she was.

Ilcathelma was something of a lobbyist, she’d written at considerable length to the Elenaran over the need to exercise restraint in dealing with the problems raised by the Giltherani terrorist attacks. Rather successfully, too.

It was interesting that parts of the ‘necrontyr mindset’ applied even to those citizens of other races. Previously, Ilcathelma had personally considered them to be ‘us’ – one of the three divisions of people the Necrontyr habitually, if subconsciously, held – but now they’d been moved, in her mind, at least, to ‘ours.’ Of course, this didn’t mean she had particularly lost any respect, but more, a change in attitude towards a more paternalistic one. This had been noticed.

The Elenaran’s office doors swung open, to reveal him sitting there, he looked up, smiled, and invited the elf in, gesturing to a seat beside him. “Hello,” he said, nodding, and passing her a glass of a crimson cocktail known as a ‘spikey venus.’

“You shall be glad to know that I’ve settled on a final solution to the Giltherani problem,” he said.

“What?” she asked, startled.

“Oh, right. Well, I’ve come up with a solution to the terrorism, anyway. And it involves you.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, the idea will solve their overpopulation problem into the bargin,” he smiled a little at her reaction, “out of all those citizens who’ve expressed an interest in the matter, I think you’re most suited to the task. Anyway, you’re familiar with the beleriand class orbital?”

“Yes,” she said, after a moment’s contemplation.

“Well then…”

Two months later, the Aritane system

Ilcathelma watched from the hub of the construct as swarms of machines filled the star system. Orbiting far out from a hot young blue star, the system was essentially a violent field of debris from which no stable planets had yet to coalesce. Nevertheless, gravity had been at work and stabilised the asteroids into several distinct streams that slowly orbited their star.

One such stream of rocks was being consumed at a frightening rate, self replicating assemblers consumed mater, and transmuted it, burning some in conversion chambers to power themselves, into parts which they then turned into more of their kind.

Eventually, they would reach a critical mass, after they consumed one ring of asteroids roughly equivalent in mass to the Earth’s nearby asteroid belt. They each weighed about a metric ton, and would perform over seventy replications, just like bacteria, before they consumed enough mass within themselves to perform their task.

They would assemble themselves, laden in part, into a ring around four million kilometres across, and a thousand kilometres – more, actually, if one counted vast retaining walls – with around a million times the density of iron. They were designed around this function, and carried a lot of mass that seemed superfluous at first glance to allow them to create immensely thick walls of structural material.

They could, in ideal circumstances, reproduce once every few minutes, but circumstances never were ideal, and it averaged out, with surveying asteroids for suitability and ensuring that they were otherwise worthless, at around a day for each machine to ingest enough matter into its molecular furnace to make another.

Hence, including travel times, it would take slightly over a hundred days to create the orbital’s base material. More time would be required to ensure that the orbital’s structure was acceptably stable. More time would be needed again, to create matter from the excess on the inner surface, to form natural seeming rock. A layer of this would simulate a planet’s crust, to a thickness of around fifty kilometres. Ilcathelma expected this to take roughly a month.

Then, after the basic landscape was finished, the orbital would be ‘spun up’ that is, rotation would be commenced, until it reached a point where it rotated once per day, which would provide, through centrifugal force, a surface ‘gravity’ of around one gee. A week in all, to do so, slowing several times and testing for structural weaknesses and correcting them, a process that would be completed at this stage, but which would start when the orbital reached full speed. It was, overall, mobile, as well, but that would only be necessary over millennia, as the sun cooled and aged, and its habitable zone changed. A concern for Ilcathelma, but not most of the structure’s other likely inhabitants.

After this there would come sands, and other minerals that would be needed for life. Soil, loam, sand, and all the other smaller things that made a world would be added. Ores and metals, too, and fabricated diamonds and gems, would be added. This was something of a ‘defence’ measure in most Menelmacari-designed mega-structures, to allow a civilisation on them to develop in a normal manner, even if they were already developed, there was always the (slight) risk of a dark age, though it was unlikely that it would happen. More importantly, this richness of minerals and materials would allow the inhabitants to continue their original lifestyle unaltered. Here, unlike in most orbitals, there was also metals called Mithral – similar to mithril, but rather less rare, and replicable – and Adamantine, another metal used by the orbital’s intended inhabitants.

The orbital’s type was named for the traditional design of one of its ‘plates,’ which reproduced exactly the land of Beleriand, destroyed millennia ago in the War of Wrath against Morgoth. And it would be likewise forested and populated with plants. Other orbitals of the same general design existed, and were used for housing populations of workers – there was one entirely (but for the Beleriand plate) covered in the ‘eco-jungle of pilon’ for example – and refugees and even of strange experimental creatures kept around from morbid curiosity. Some variants were rigged with generators and alternate atmospheres, greenhouses for the biomes of a million worlds, where they could flourish in peace away from the incursions of sapient life, maintained for the peace of mind and curiosity of the environmentally aware. Often single types of life spread across numerous plates, and weather was tweaked – for although normal weather systems didn’t form, most retaining walls contained elements to induce it - to push each plate down different evolutionary pathways.

Ironically, this least-advanced aspect of the design, took by far the longest to accomplish. In total, at least twenty years to grow the trees, ten, if one was prepared to cut corners, less, if one was prepared to cheat more invasively. But in this case, none were acceptable. And so Ilcathelma would wait. With the plants came the animals, for many plants couldn’t survive without their pollinators, which in turn needed other creatures to control their populations. Many of these were in fact created whole from energy, gleaned by conversion, using a technology related to that of the gauss flayer. Even more attention than usual in this case was paid to the underwater environment, for here, also, the inhabitants would be living, and it had to be ‘interesting’ enough to be enticing.

The plates, as mentioned, were to be approximately square, of about a thousand kilometres per side, with translucent retaining walls high on either side that contained field elements – powered by solar energy and in some cases, power nodes or conversion – which generated wind cycles, and catalysed water cycles to work properly with limited ‘seas’ on the plate.

Weather on Ilcathelma-Aritane orbital was also going to be controlled into seasons by adjusting the angle towards the sun and changing weather patterns. Not all of them bothered with this, however, some aiming for maximum growing seasons. Here, however, the plan, at least, was to make the seasons experienced by most of the orbital into abstractions – cold, snowy winters, tranquil autumns, hot summers, and wet, fertile springs…

Of course, there was still little explanation of all this known to anyone but Ilcathelma and the Elenaran himself…