NationStates Jolt Archive

Lord Inquisitor Julius Galbatross sat on his throne. His holy chair was known as the Skull Throne, its ornate seating carved out of the skulls of the many arch-heretics slain by the Lord Inquisitor. Galbatross commanded the Holy Empire of the Kilogramm, a nation that was still small, unnoticed by its neighbors, but that would not last for long.

Colonel Gideon Faust stood outside the massive double doors that led into the room where the Lord Inquisitor waited. As commander of the Kilogramm
8th Armored Division, he was no man to be trifled with, but he still sweated, realizing he was about to meet the dreaded Master of the Kilogramm himself. Then the doors slowly swung open. Gideon entered the hall. Its ceiling was so high that it almost disappeared above him. Massive marble pillars lined the sides, with the Lord Inquisitor’s personal guard standing silently between them. Pure, white light came in through the windows, but the Colonel did not focus on the scenery of the hall. His gaze fixed upon the chair of bone that stand several meters in front of him.

Galbatross himself was massive, his body bio-enhanced until he was super-human. He was dressed in a massive suit of black armor, and Gideon could see that his famous sword, the Gladius Iusticae, was at the Lord Inquisitor’s side, as always. The Lord Inquisitor’s handsome face seemed to shine with a holy fire that also appeared to wreath his mane of dark brown hair.

“Approach, Colonel,” intoned the Lord Inquisitor in tones that were the epitome of power and confidence.

Colonel Faust approached, taking off his officer’s hat and revealing his cropped black hair, slightly tinged with gray. The chair seemed to be placed far enough back for those approaching the Lord Inquisitor to feel a trickle of apprehension and fear run down their spine, but not so far back that they gave into panic at approaching the god-like figure who governed their Empire. The Colonel reached the foot of the Skull Throne and knelt, clasping his armored fist to the breastplate of his black carapace armor.

“Lord, the 8th Armored is ready. It has been inspected by your Most Holy Inquisition and no taint of heresy has been found. The rest of the primary attack wave also report ready. The Titan Legions have armed their Deus-class constructs and also await your word. We are ready to attack.”

The Lord Inquisitor smiled grimly. At last his plans could be realized. It was time to cleanse his world of the taint of the heretic, of those who would defile the name of the Lord Most High. Ever since the breakup of the Church there had been no organized force to combat the forces of the heathen. Many nations had proclaimed that there was no God and outlawed organized religion. The Kilogramm’s neighbor nation, a shadowy country known only has the Oppressed State ruled by a mysterious being called the Most Oppressive One, was one such heretical nation, and it was here that Galbatross would initiate his master plan.

“Colonel, order the army to launch the invasion. I will join you shortly.”

- - -

Colonel Faust stood in the cupola of his command tank, his mind still filled with images of the majesty of the Lord Inquisitor. They were rolling forward across the plain towards the massive defensive wall that the Oppressed State had erected to keep the unwanted out. They came to about two thousand meters short of the wall.

“Titans Malleus Fas and Deus Imperator opening fire,” the voice of Titan commander Michaelus Fortuna crackled over the vox unit of Gideon’s tank.

Huge sections of the wall were blasted apart by the concentrated turbo-laser, heavy plasma, and quake cannon fire. The guns mounted on the walls began to return fire, but were quickly silenced by the might of the Titans, a force they had never been meant to combat. The creation of the Titan Legions had been one of the Lord Inquisitor’s greatest secrets.

Within moments a large gap had been cleared in the wall. Colonel Faust gave the order, and the armored force moved through the rubble and into the heretic’s land. The Crusade had begun.





Other nations are welcome to join the Crusade and post their own stories as I continue to tell the tale of Lord Inquisitor Galbatross and Colonel Faust. If you want to oppose the Crusade you are also welcome to post. (By the way, not all stories have to be about your army winning.)

"Most Oppresive One, this is bomber wing 3, committing to target."
Five miles below, hundreds of thousands of The Most Oppresive One's subjects threw themselves unarmed at the Kilogramm troopers' position. The terrible killing field saw tens of thousands trampled underfoot, but the army finally reached the Kilogramm lines. The lead soldier-conscripts, climbing over a wall of dead to reach their foes, were scythed down immediately by massed firepower. Hundreds followed behind them, however, and the Kilogramm trenches were soon choked with the dead of both sides. The mob of screaming madmen then surged forward again towards Galbatross' sprized tank legions. The tanks tore great holes in the oncoming ranks of Oppressed soldiers but could not stem the tide. Dozens of men clambered onto each tank, tearing open viewports and hatches to toss scores of captured grenades into each tank. In half an hour, The Most Oppresive One lost 20,000 men, but unlike the Kilogramm, their culture could absorb the loses.

The balance of force shifted, though, when Galbatross's Titans took the field. The Oppressed tropps could not close to attack and ran, screaming, as the Titans blew hundreds apart. Then Bomber Wing 3 screamed out of the sun, dissappearing as the nuclear warheads birthed great fission furnaces that consumed 50,000 men, 40 aircraft, and Galbatoss's Titans.:upyours:

Lord Inquisitor Galbatross stood, looking at a holographic display of the war, surrounded by his highest generals. He smiled as he watched the slaughter, knowing that his soldiers who died were dying to spread the Word of Truth. However, he also knew that the use of more nuclear warheads was a real danger to the Kilogramm, but it was a danger he was ready to combat. The Lord Inquisitor had been preparing for this war for a long time, and he had realized that many of the nations he would fight would possess nuclear weapons.
“Launch the Deathstrike satellites.”
The Deathstrike satellites were a network of advanced satellite technology that would track and destroy any weapons-grade nuclear devices within a specified region. They themselves were heavily armored against even the most powerful of weapons and were nearly impossible to destroy.
- - -
Colonel Gideon Faust watched from the turret of his tank, stationed at a command post located just past the gigantic walls that used to mark the boundaries of the Most Oppresive One’s empire, well behind the front lines, as massive laser beams lanced through the atmosphere, systematically destroying any nuclear device within the realms of the Most Oppresive One.
- - -
Galbatross also watched, but he knew that this was only a small victory. The majority of the Most Oppresive One’s soldiers were mere conscripts, and would easily be destroyed in time, but the Lord Inquisitor knew that, for know, they would be sufficient to hold off his army. More disturbing, however, were the reports of some dark power, from an older age, rising within the depths of the Most Oppresive One’s lands. A power as ancient as the sword that the Lord Inquisitor held in his armored fist. The Lord Inquisitor eyed his flawless blade, the timeless inscriptions etched into its surface in a language only he could read. He thumbed the activation rune, and arcane energies flickered along the lengths of the sword. He would be ready to face whatever may come.
- - -
It would be a long war.

The glossy black car, sleek, fast and built for maneuverability, gracefully wove through the street's of Kilogramm's capital. A golden hammer within a circle on it's rounded nose marked the car as having been made by Goldmine Banking. It looked like the new D-100 Momba line. Those hadn't even started mass production yet. The car stood out further with it's diplomatic plates and a likely escort to ensure the man inside arrived at his destination in a timely fashion.

---

Within the land of the Oppressed an identical car followed a different route with a similar goal. Behind mirrored black windows the driver spoke up, his voice heavily accented. He was defiantly from the Dominion.

"We're just about there Mr. Black."

The man called Mr. Black sat in the back, reviewing schematics and maps on a hand held device while talking on a phone. There would be no eaves dropping on this encrypted line to Goldmine Banking's 'Western Arms' subsidiary branch.

"There's no need to worry. I've got the information you sent over. The item will be acquired and you can run your tests."

Hearing the driver speak up Mr. Black offered a slow understanding nod. Then responded to something said on the other end of the phone.

"If you insist. I've just arrived. No, we won't be in contact until retrieval. Now, I have to go."

Shortly there after the miniature cellphone was closed in on itself and deposited in an interior coat pocket. Mr. Black arrived at his destination, on time, the exact same time as his counter part in Kilogramm arrived at his. Two identical men left their vehicles ...

---

Considering the government he was dealing with, it was understandable if it took some time for Mr. White to run through the formalities of ensuring his appointment hadn't been canceled. A few minutes were spent flirting with a secretary ... and why not? He was a handsome, physically fit, and well shaven young man. The perfect example of Corporate Arakus. Perhaps he was a little too perfect.

Like his counterpart in the land of the Oppressed, Mr. White would find himself staring out a window over looking the city below. It almost reminded him of home. If the streets were clogged with poor and homeless. If the buildings stretched above the clouds themselves ... and if ever skyscraper and wall boasted some manner of commercial advertisement.

With those thoughts washing away he rose a hand to check his platinum wrist watch. It should be about time ...

Sergeant Eric Oden stepped out of the command tent, the opening flapping shut behind him. He strode briskly across the open ground, making his way through the field of tests that constituted the 13th Infantry Division. He was a tall, thin man, with cropped blond hair and a small mustache of the same hue. As he neared his own tent, he saw the rest of his squad standing to attention in front of it. He had ordered them to stand there until he returned, as punishment for the fight over rations they had engaged in last night. In truth, he didn’t blame them. The latest army supply convoy had been attacked and destroyed over three days ago, and, without any word of additional supplies being sent, food was beginning to run thin.

In part, this is what the Sergeant had been discussing with General Eisenstein. He had been surprised to find himself called to meet personally with the General, but it appeared as if the General had taken notice of his squad’s actions earlier that month, at the Battle of the so-called Doomsday Pass. Lately, the heretics had been able to lay waste to the Kilogramm’s supply convoys with alarming accuracy. They seemed to know exactly when and where the convoys would be most vulnerable, and the danger these enemy ambushes posed was now more than just annoying.

“Listen up, soldiers. The General has a special mission for us,” boomed Oden as he approached his patiently awaiting squad, “We’ve discovered the method by which the heretics have been attacking our food lines.”

Oden smiled slightly as he noticed his soldier’s stances perk up a little at the mention of food.

“It appears as if they have somehow built a contraption capable of marking our every movement. I can’t even guess how this is possible, but one thing is certain: we have to destroy this thing. Heck, I don’t even know how we found out about it. It’s one hundred kilos behind enemy lines. It’s also hidden in the Vanhall Mountains. If the whole army tried to take it out, we would be destroyed. Tanks can’t maneuver in those crags, and the enemy knows the ground – we don’t. So it’s fallen to us to take this thing out. We move out in one hour. Prepare yourselves.”
- - -
Lord Inquisitor Galbatross stood in front of his throne. He was preparing to meet a very important guest from a land known as The Dominion of Arakus. Galbatross knew that an alliance with Arakus could help to bring this war to a swift conclusion in favor of the Kilogramm, but he was also no fool. He realized that the Arakians would want something in return. The Lord Inquisitor also recognized that this might be a trick, a ploy to gain his confidence. And if it was he would respond with deadly force, force that was unrivalled even by his attack on The Most Oppresive One, for a new generation of Titans was ready, and his first battle barge, a massive space worthy ship, was almost ready. Soon, the Kilogramm would rise to its proper place of dominance in its world and would cleanse the heretics from its surface. And after that, the Lord Inquisitor knew that an entire galaxy of humanity, long separated since the fall of the Fifth Holy Roman Empire, awaited to be brought in the Lord’s light.

The massive double doors at the entrance to the hall creaked open, and the delegate from Arakus entered.

Mr. White, a perfect two meters tall, fit into his black suit and tie as if he were born in them. When he walked into the Lord Inquisitor's throne room, it was as though the man were either going to or coming from a business meeting. In his gloved right hand he held onto a slim black brief case.

Not a sound came from those black Arakus leather Business Man Plus shoes he wore. The recent price for the Business Man Plus was two thousand marks ... for each shoe. The man wore more on his feet than most people made in a month. Arakus was a wonderful place.

"It is good to finally meet you Lord Inquisitor Galbatross. As I'm sure you are aware, I am Douglas White."

Mr. White neither offered his hand nor smiled, yet there was a faint mirthful tone to his voice. The same mirth a corporate shark has when he's about to carve into a new business and make a fortune off selling pieces of it's carcass. Oddly, he wasn't disturbed by the macabre image of the Skull Throne. Did he even notice it?

"I know you are a busy man, so I'll get to the point. Your nation is at war, and your friends at Goldmine Banking want to help you."

Before pressing on, he waited to see Galbatross' reaction to that statement. The proud rarely wanted to accept help. How proud was the Lord Inquisitor?

Galbatross regarded the man standing in front of him. This Mr. White of the Dominion of Arakus was a formidable man by human standards, tall, and with an aura of confidence surrounding him. The Lord Inquisitor knew that his opposite had likely been through negotiations like these many times before, and would be a skilled diplomat. Galbatross could tell that Mr. White would not respond to any scare tactics, as evidenced by his lack of reaction to the Skull Throne, but Julius had no intention of trying to intimidate a potential ally. The situation was simple: if the Arakians were willing to negotiate honestly and offered a good deal, then the Kilogramm would reciprocate. And if they proved to be deceitful and false, Mr. White would not leave the Kilogramm alive. Julius himself was no stranger to negotiation, and he was ready to match whatever skills the Arakian delegate brought to the table, but he had always place his trust in the art of war.

The Lord Inquisitor walked forwards to stand five or so feet in front of the Arakian. Surprisingly, Galbatross’ armored feet made no more sound than had the Arakian’s, the Lord Inquisitor’s enhanced abilities allowing him to keep perfect control over every one of his movements. Despite the Arakian’s height, the Lord Inquisitor towered over him, and his massive suit of armor made him appear even larger. Mr. White did not cower, however, nor had Galbatross expected him to.

“Arakian, what do you have that you think we could possibly want? And what do we have that you need? I have heard of your Goldmine Banking. They never engage in an enterprise unless they can turn a profit. We are alone here, and, as your sensors probably tell you, there are no active surveillance devices in this hall. You may speak you mind. I will listen.”

Despite Galbatross’ harsh words, he was curious as to what the Arakian would offer. He watched as Mr. White carefully prepared his next words before speaking.

- - -

Hundreds of kilometers away, Sergeant Oden and his squad looked down upon the opening to a large cave. The Sergeant knew that he would have to go in there, but he wanted to wait until it was dark. In the meantime, he posted Privates Johnson and Kreiger as guards, and ordered the rest of his squad to rest while he planned their assault.