NationStates Jolt Archive

For a time, the various factions of the Fleet had settled into a sort of permanent state of 'civil' warfare, as they tended to do back in their home galaxy.
For their leader, Revan, and his group this was perfectly acceptable-it meant that they could be controlled and herded towards a general goal.
But now that situation had fallen into disarry, with their gentlemanly advesaries, the Yvresse falling out of contact, indeed, seemingly dropping off the face of Mars contact wise-the factions began to agitate against percieved external foes, and that could not be allowed.

If even the lowliest minion fired something over the border at someone they shouldn't, there would be consequences that would be exceedingly hard to deal with. And so, after one particular Captain fired his ships cannon at the border after being seen to be increasingly arguing for the eradication of the 'star sucking demon whores'-which only managed to kill a dozen or so soldiers of a rival faction, Traya put forth the idea that the Fleet's overarching mission in this galaxy, for recruitment, while being locally successful, their numbers having swelled to the billions, was strategically a failure.

While Revan was more than capable of putting down the odd rebellion over complaints that he was getting soft-indeed, that he'd, in their words, 'shacked up with a jedi heretic turtle-fellating witch that turned him from the true path', he could not allow the warring groups to harm those 'outside', and taking a suggestion from Bastila of all people, put in motion plans to interfere with a plot the majority of his minions had schemed towards.

-------

Several weeks later, a lone ship floats at the prearranged rendevous point, sufficently far away from anywhere in some random sector of space, waiting for a certain someone and their group to arrive. They have made deals with certain parties, with certain people of certain ideaologies, and all that remains is whether the payments they have made will take effect, whether or not this person will show up...



OOC:Very, Very Closed!

Take some time off, see some new places. Honestly my friend it's possibly one of few chances we will ever get to give both you a holiday and the fatherland a better chance at having technological advancements. Reichs General Heinrich Lichtenstein thinks to himself sourly as he stretches out on one of the lounges onboard the shuttle Racial Dominance.

The lights flicker momentarily above his head as the shuttle reverts from it's jump the treznorian jump technology working much better with the new reactor managment systems the Iraqstani scientists recently developed. "Now we only need to send one shuttle as opposed to ten for these sorts of things." Heinrich mutters dryly as the ship orientates itself towards the only other vessel in the area, the designated second party of this little meeting.....

While Revan's minions probably would have organized an entire warfleet for this encounter, all that he allows is a single heavy freighter,the /Interstellar Shithauler/ albeit with an exceedingly expensive hyperdrive tacked on the back of it, seemingly almost an afterthought. While the Fleet had arrived in the Solar system using the power of the Forge, their technological theiv^h^h^development in the time since greatly increased their capabilities, not the least of which is staring this Iraqstani General down as it manuevers in to grasp the shuttle.

What greets Heinrich after the relatively vast shape of the freighter swallows his shuttle is a collosal hanger, grey floors marred only by saluting soldiers in dull grey armour, carbines pointed upwards, thrust into the sky at the sight of Heinrich. Walls draped every few metres or so in vast fabric, flags evoking images of military supremacy and a history of stylish brutality.

Standing at the forefront of this entirely neccessary show of authority is a man clothed in an entirely different kind of grey-dark boots, the coloured symbols on his chest indicating he's a Captain, but not of this ship, of an order Heinrich won't recognize.

He salutes, eyes full of a piercing fire, a fanaticism burning in his veins, something that should be all too familiar to this General.

"I sincerely hope you enjoy your stay, General. Those under my command will ensure this is so."
He gestures towards a door at the end of the hangar, which opens at his command, the soldiers neatly stepping to the side, mute with purpose.

"This journey will take quite a while, and before we initiate..negotiations, I wish you to see that we are quite serious, and that you and your homeland shall profit just as much as we."

Saluting briskly Heinrich bows his head in respect and quickly flicks his eyes over the area a smile playing faintly on his lips. "Captain, it is the honour of the National Socialist Union to accept your invitation. We feel that both sides will have mutual policies that will greatly benefit our ways of life."

Taking note of the Order symbols on the Captain's uniform he inclines his head "If you permit it, I am curious, what the symbols you wear show? I sense a seemingly great air of power about you but yet it is not something we or any Iraqstani has ever come accross. Perhaps when we know each other better we might be able to travel down the paths of mutual beliefs into realms where only true allies and enlightened creatures may tread" He offers respectfully, his own personal guard appears at the entrace of the shutle, their plasma rifles shouldered their stance one of military attention, even they can sense the militaristic and fanatical beliefs of the people before them.....

"They are something that ensures loyalty, obedience by the mere sight of them. Threat of naked force rather than force itself. I'm sure you can..appreciate the method." Again, he gestures towards the door, the soldiers still mute, no appearance of emotion or anything other than complete loyalty.
The armour they wear makes them faceless by design, no individuality, no amibition, no sense of self.

Heinrich and his entourage are then lead past the soldiers, through a long hallway and twisting corridors, featureless except for the occasional maintenance droid, through to what one can only assume is the command centre, communications and informations officers at their terminals, guard droids mindlessly surverying a scene of eternal precision and most of all, discipline

What lies integrated into the armoured wall is a scene of information display, 'visual' being what the ship sensors 'see', weapons readouts, displays for all of the ships systems and plotted course corrections-indicating, at least to someone who could interpret the data, that this journey isn't going to be instantaneous.

"General, before we begin our little trip, I ask that you enjoy what we have prepared to entertain you in the meantime, and.."
The man, Sarred Karn, stares at Heinrich's guard, and then at a short, physically small officer standing next to him.

"...Mekel, make sure that noone disturbs our guest or those here with him. Show him to the entertainment deck, and assign the women to him. He is to enjoy his time here, and if he so much as voices his discontent once, the last thing you will see is an open airlock."

Leaning back Heinrich shivers slightly at the view of all the things he can indulge his desires in. Mein Führer always did keep the perks of state to himself He thinks wryly before nodding to his men who disperese with glee amongst the women.

Nodding his thanks to his guide and to Mekel Heinrich simply orders the strongest alcohol possible and plenty of it, indulging his alcoholism more than his other animal desires simply out of protocal. An officer must never lower himself to disgrace by acting as would his soldiers and followers The words of the late Carlos Quil'raya ring slightly in his head, a show of alcohol consumption more fitting for an officer than barbaric orgies on the floor of a foreign nation's ship.

Looking over the entertainment deck Heinrich is awestruck by the wealth of the options available to him, picking up his bottles and glass Heinrich moves off to where he can enjoy the soft pleasurable attention of a few women and his drinks, riding out the trip in an inebriated bliss.....

The journey is long, featureless and uneventful, subjective days flowing into the next with only Sarred's strict control on who interrupts or entertains Heinrich to break the deadly serious air about the ship and it's occupants.

The bland discipline is only mildly broken when, a few weeks later, almost to the minute, the ship begins to shudder, a small but persistent groan growing steadily more audible as it becomes clear they're approaching their destination, whatever it is.

Heinrich's first indication that they were nearing the end of their somewhat anti-climactic trip was the sudden and sharp broadcasting of a projected image of the 'local' area on every viewscreen in the ship.

The blue, even somewhat green planet beneath them now took second place in interest to the vast, pointed structure some distance away, visible even now. Perhaps not odd to Heinrich, but certainly out of place was the fact that every last spacecraft in orbit was of the Fleet, purely functional design view of the majority obviously jarring against the worn, ancient and ominous station of sorts set as the backdrop.

As they approach this spacedy castle of sorts, the crew of the ship relaxes, a few even being heard to converse in passing.

Sarred however keeps to his usual strict control of his appearance, the following message to Heinrich being over the ship's com systems and not in person, interrupting whatever Heinrich was or was not doing at the time.

"ReichsGeneral, we have arrived, as you have no doubt noticed. You will also notice that I am but someone assigned to supervise you, that the..entertainment you now partake of is nothing but a herald of what you will see and experience when we dock. I advise you to prepare yourself, for little will remain the same."

Melodrama aside, Sarred is correct, for all concerned, if everything goes according to plan Heinrich will be the least of all involved to be rewarded, for this little operation goes beyond him and Sarred, and indeed, beyond everyone on the ship at the moment.

Standing Heinrich looks on in wonder and smiles softly. These people would give us the means of carving our place into the world and ensuring nobody forgets the power and purity of the fatherland He thinks silently to himself, his drink in his hand long forgotten as he drinks in the spectacle of the spaceborne castle....

Turning to his men he nods. "Prepare yourselves men, for we are no longer playing with time but playing a game that will empower us for eternity. Atleast the Reich and the Union shall soon have the power to defend itself from all enemies of our people"

The Fleet's internal structure and general thoughts on ship design had changed a great deal since they first arrived in the New System, but back here, back 'home', signs of the old style still lived, the massive, monolithic architecture and feeling still evident here. Nationalism wasn't the right word, the scale of conflict here was far greater, and older, than any Iraqstani.

The move to dock was rather more silent than the rest of the trip, the ominous presence of 'higher ups' being obvious. The process of leaving the ship and walking through the hangar, and then the presently pointless cavernous halls is a long one for Heinrich, his 'minders' keeping an eye on him in a professional manner as they pass pillars and cold, industrial metal created in a style that would make certain national socialist officials fall to their knees and weep openly as if in paradise.

When the party finally ceases to tread on bare walkways, they enter a room almost the exact opposite, pulsing with the energy of thousands of holo-displays, each showing a particular point of interest in the system.

One display shows Heinrich and Sarred, and the harsh looking language and hissing about it seems to indicate every little detail one could possibly want to know. The figure viewing it is none other than Canderous Ordo himself, a very harsh looking upper middle aged man, scar across one eye and some manner of worn looking firearm at his hip.

Sarred bows, and remarks "My lord, Reichsgeneral Heinrich Lichstenstein." Sarred then turns and leaves, for he has his own reports to make and subordinates to instruct.

Ordo only then turns from the holo-display to Heinrich, sizing him up as if for potential weaknesses, before mentally dismissing him.

"A Warrior does not do well with endless paperwork Reichsgeneral, and so I'll be blunt and to the point. Weapons and materiel are yours, of whichever type your.." He looks down at Heinrich a little. "...superiors wish. Your journey here may have been long, but I have no desire to indulge the wishes of people who have never met the fire of a foe with their own, and so..." As if prompting a response, he arches an eyebrow, growls almost absentmindedly and glances sideways at a scrolling line of angry looking text on the display behind him.

"..the next move is yours, Iraqstani."

Nodding Heinrich smiles politely We were right in thinking these people were exactly who we wanted to speak with He thinks to himself before clearing his throat.

"It would be a dishonour to both you and your people to pretty words in the company of fellow worriors so to be honest Iraqstan requires vessels capable of interstellar flight, weapons to arm these vessels enough to cause our enemies to think twice about intimidating us anymore. We are willing to pay what ever is asked we are not above accepting things from those with like minded ideals. Of which I note you and your people are on the same level as us." He says before looking about once more.


"But I would not be doing my duty by not asking what do you want from Iraqstan. Nothing is given out of the good graces of one's heart in these sorts of offers. What is it you want." He says simply, nodding his head to the man infront of him indicating it's his turn to speak....

"Nations do not ask for favours," A harsh look at Heinrich. "They ask for a return on an investment. I ask for these weapons to be used, and.." Another angry hiss from the display. "..superiors ask for them to be used on the weak and the cowardly, the fools and the filth."

And just as Ordo begins to speak again, a tall and slender man with a head of stark white wirebrush hair interrupts him with a cold, dominating stare. A dismissive glance at Heinrich, and then. "..Incompetence aside, there are contingency plans in place to ensure we get that return. The people who need to know already know."

A barely contained growl from Ordo. "..Paperpushers aside, you have the opportunity to decide, Reichsgeneral, for some garrison militia fool pressing the wrong button and killing the wrong people is the kind of attention you and I don't need." A glare at the white haired one. "And I'm sure your leaders do not wish this to be traded like some corporate secret."

Nodding Heinreich smiles politely. "You must forgive me, I come from a culture of suspision of outsiders, we always distrust, even when warriors offer us honour we still must seek for further englightenment." Nodding to the new participant Lidric looks out the viewport.

"Let me inspect what is on offer, the National Socialist Union requires great advancement in our projection of war vessels in space, you have seen what we currently have. It is a small miracle that we have perfected our skills to even a rudimentry level. We will look and decide what will benefit the Union and further our goals towards securing our lands and strength for generations to come." He says a smile plays accross his lips as he envisions tremendous war vessels arriving in numbers worthy of the union to push back Iraqstan's enemies and bring fear to all that oppose her...

Ordo cracks a smirk that one would call a knowing smile in anyone other than the veteran soldier he is. A narrowing of view, and "A small miracle is not what you're after, Reichsgeneral. You are after the saviour of your people, the light at the end of a great struggle."

A gesture past the aggressively glowing ranks of displays and atmosphere of cold precision and hushed scheming, to a swiftly opening door. Revealing a cliched cavernous walkway it seemed more a portal to some ancient land than a gateway to an Armoury and Logistics facility. Here and there, the bare, massive construction of some alien steel had been painted over, patched with obviously newer materials, as the numerous surveillance devices and towering banners of grey icons confirm.

Ordo turns and walks at a deliberately plodding pace across the admittedly immensely solid looking walkway, and when the few step across the entrance line into the facility, it's apparent that for all the militaristic look of everything Heinrich had seen so far, the items in these rooms looked, and indeed were, crafted to kill first and foremost. Ordo says nothing for a moment, gauging Heinrichs reaction to the particularly deadly looking selection of small arms arrayed on a solid display table of sorts.

For all their engineering, these weapons are of no fantastic and elabourate design, there are no glowing power cells, no curves that would make an elf cry, there are simply soldiers loading and unloading, assembling and dissassembling the component parts as would any well trained military force from any given era.

A spark of a word from Ordo, "Observe, Reichsgeneral. Observe the procedures, the routine, the efficiency of it all. Everything here, from sidearm to space craft is not built for putting down an insurgency in a rot infested colony, they are built for an army, a single purpose, for they are but the means to the end of a great liberation." A particularly coarse side look at Heinrich.

"Whether that liberation is from the chains of an ancient enemy or the shackles of a state of cancerous decay is not my choice. It is yours."

Nodding Heinreich smiles absently. "This could definately aide us in the strugle to liberate those who submerge themselves in the sin of racial depravity, yes I begin to see now what it is that we must have." He whispers softly, looking to Ordo Heinreich nods once more.

"This is very promising, what else is there that the Union is capable of obtaining from your honourable offerings? My brothers in arms require much but I feel I must ask for much more than they can possibly imagine, infact there are things here we did not think could possibly be obtained..."

Looking back at the weapons displayed he smiles softly. "You have shown me soldiers weapons, perhaps you could show me more?"