NationStates Jolt Archive

IC:

Every people is driven by something...
Money...power...vengence...ignorance...
All motivate nations and empires...
All fuel the fires of war or wave the flags of peace...

Then, Great One, what are they driven by!?

...Hunger...
- Brotherhood of the Spirits
Book of Al'dalus 2:31

It had been too long...too long since they last awoke...
The Young Ones had forgotten them...
Yet, it was no matter...no matter at all...
They were a patient race...
Their Empire had once brought the Ancient Races to their knees.
Their Ships had culled billions of worlds...
And brought fear to billions more...

They entered the Last Great Sleep millenia ago,
waiting till human stocks replenished themselves...
Awating the awakening of the Keeper...

But...something went wrong.
The Keeper had not awoken them...
The Hive had not moved...
They were asleep...

That is, until today.

It was brilliant and gold. Blue and white. Light and dark. Its shimmering tail could be seen across half the continents.

It was a comet. A fairly large one at that. It had been streaking across the sky for over an hour, its shimmering tail admired by noone but the animals that inhabited the jungles.

Soon, the beautiful comet would turn into something much worse.

It was not disolved by the atmosphere. It was free-falling down onto the surface of the Jungle world of Avala VI, straight into the great mountain range in the northern hemisphere of the planet.

It was getting close...closer and closer with every second...

Each moment it streaked towards the blue-and-white-topped hills. Soon, trees were visable; individual cracks in the mountain; the shimmering quality of the ice; the pack of goat-like creatures terrified by the rock of fire approaching them; the frozen di-

*BOOM*

The stellar object had smashed against the surface of the mountain.

...

...Yet, there was only a small hole in the mountain side!
No great split in the rocks...no great trauma to the ancient range...
Only a glint of metal under the Bedrock.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Withing the belly of the beast, an automatic transmitter activated. A distress signal: designed so that any ship within the immediate area of the planet could find it.

The computer had begun its protocol in the event of substancial hull trauma:

- Diognostic
- Automated Repairs
- Distress-Signal
- Awaken the Keeper

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Deep within the Stasis Chambers, a blue figure fell out from a containment pouch. Its white hair damp and stringy, its limbs pale and slimy, and its claws long from the deep hibernation.

Its eyes opened, fiercome and terrifying, as it gazed around the room.

They were beginning to awaken...


OOC: This RP is designed to introduce my new race, The Wraith. If you know the reference, good, keep it to yourself. If you don't know what it is, even better, you get to experience it for the first time.


So, I'm gonna need 2-3 FT nations to join-in on this story. All I ask is the following:

1) No massive armies landing here. I want a small number of characters, 10 tops, landing and evaluating the situation. Any more characters will be killed off in the RP.

2) No metalic-based races (I'm thinking Necron or Borg...well...maybe Borg...) allowed. Sorry >_<

3) I just wanted to have a three on there.

First come, first served.

Thanks a lot.

OOC: Without giving the reference away, let me say; Coolness. About time we had these, and the post was very good.

Offhand, I'm torn between this nation, which is probably overkill, {and, despite the necrons in the military, it is mostly humanoid} given its technological sophistication, and a nation of parasites {Lord Atum} that lord it over humans and impersonate dieties, lead by one of their number who briefly became a superior being, but was, rejected. Doubtless this sounds very familiar to you. ;) I feel the latter would be much more suitable, and will join tomorrow {GMT} if you're amicable.

#Tag# for great writing and interesting 'handshaking' premise. ;)

OOC:

To Facehuggeria: Haha...I get it...

OOC: Without giving the reference away, let me say; Coolness. About time we had these, and the post was very good.

Offhand, I'm torn between this nation, which is probably overkill, {and, despite the necrons in the military, it is mostly humanoid} given its technological sophistication, and a nation of parasites {Lord Atum} that lord it over humans and impersonate dieties, lead by one of their number who briefly became a superior being, but was, rejected. I feel the latter would be much more suitable, and will join tomorrow {GMT} if you're amicable.

Don't worry. I have one philosophy about these things:

Have fun and don't worry about winning or losing.

I think what people need to understand is I don't care if I win or lose, just how I RP the game. So, choose whomever Lord Atum.

PS: Guess whose Puppet-state this is? I'll give you a hint: I walk like a Jaffa.

EDIT: I forgot: I'm game...if YOU AREN'T NECRON >_<

Just bring along humans instead, n'kay!?

OOC: It seems to be my policy to get Lord Atum battered horribly in every thread I can. So far, this has happened in all but one.

I'm confident you will find rich feeding grounds. ;)

OOC: Do'h! Edited too late...just read the PS on the above post...

<TAG>
Nice! Very well written. As it happens, I don't recognize the reference, so it would be a surprise.
I'll join if there's room, but I don't want to block anyone else out, so I'll wait a bit...

<TAG>
Nice! Very well written. As it happens, I don't recognize the reference, so it would be a surprise.
I'll join if there's room, but I don't want to block anyone else out, so I'll wait a bit...

OOC: OOOOOOOOOOOOHHHH!!! This is good. I want someone who doesn't know what's comming up.

I say to ye, join.

OOC: OOOOOOOOOOOOHHHH!!! This is good. I want someone who doesn't know what's comming up.

I say to ye, join.
An ye wish it, it shall be done.

A bit of background:
The Hjari are a vaguely Gypsy-like group, a race of interstellar wanderers. The majority of them travel in fleets, but there are quite a few that prefer small groups; I'll be using one of these, of course. They make most of their money from salvage, repairs, and the like, so usually a distress call means a chance to make a profit...

IC post coming up.

"Jardra! We're receiving some kind of distress signal!"

"Oh? What's it say?"
The Hjari captain strode swiftly to the communications post.

"Not much. It seems to be computerized, and perhaps purely automatic. It's a strong signal, though, and easy to trace."

"Well, we can't leave the poor victims waiting. Let's move!"

The seven inhabitants of the craft went swiftly into action; less than a minute after Tzen Kor picked up the signal, the odd looking vessel was heading for its source.

Like most Hjari ships, Tzen Kor looked like it had been put together from the wreckage of several older ones, but the battered hull concealed a propulsion system based on the discoveries of over a dozen civilizations. Soon, it was plummeting through the atmosphere of a seemingly uninhabited world, toward a small crater in the mountains...

((Pausing to allow others to post.))

OOC: I'm going to wait until the others have RPed before I do my part.

Just keep this in mind people: its a Jungle World. The mountains are almost un-landable. Let's just say there are occasional plateaus a distance away.

OOC: I'd like to participate with a small group poorly-armed of humans scouting for colony site, if you're willing.

OOC: I'd like to participate with a small group poorly-armed of humans scouting for colony site, if you're willing.

OOC: Sure thing! Come-on down!

If Lord Atum decides to join, then we should be all-set to go...

...

...though I might allow one-more race...

OOC: Ooh, ooh, Save room for me! I'll come in later.

OOC:

N'kay.

ALL BETS ARE IN AND THE BOOTHS ARE CLOSED!!!

That's all we need...unless Lord Atum flakes on us (which I seriously doubt).

So far we have:

Lord Atum
Central Facehuggia
CoreWorlds
and last, but not least, Hjarteln

OOC: Is there a Stargate nearby? I got one on my planet Issus.

OOC: Is there a Stargate nearby? I got one on my planet Issus.

Yes...sure. But I don't know why you need a Stargate! It really doesn't have anything to do with my race at all. >_>

OOC: Cool, Thanks.

IC:

Location: Independent Survey ship "Coral Veil," en route to planet M-293

Jarren yawned deeply. Interstellar surveying missions were excessively dull when you're not actually surveying anything. Most of the time on such an adventure is wasted away while the ship carrying you makes its way to your destination. Even when you did get to a planet, it was rare that you would find anything of value or interest. And this trip seemed like it would be no different. A pity, Jarren enjoyed visiting alien worlds, marveling in the beauty of alien ecologies and cultures.

Jarren was roused from his boredom by a shout from one of the lower levels. It was a distinctly feminine yet strictly 'no-nonsense' voice belonging to his first officer Sara Castor

"Hey, Jarren! Frank says he's picking something up on the comms. Like a short repeating code. Really simple to decipher, probably supposed to be that way given what it says. It's a distress call, Sir. We don't know how long it's been on, but who knows? It's right on the way to our destination and we may find something valuable."

Jarren smiled to himself. His trip could afford a few days spent sightseeing, and besides, the people on the planet might need his help.

"Understood Sara. Tell him to lock in a course. We'll be taking a little detour today."

Jarren could barely hold in his glee, it looked like things were finally looking up. Or, at least that's what it seemed like at the time...

******

A tiny pinprick of blinking blue light was all that appeared to mark the Coral Veil's return to real space. Totally unarmed, the small scoutship relied upon its unassuming nature and blinding speed to survive danger.

"We've arrived, Cap'n!" Frank called up from the navigation pit, a small indent unique to ships of the Coral Veil's class. His voice was scruffy and betrayed a hint of Irish accent. He had a temperament to match his near-forgotten heritage, with a healthy love for the bottle and barfight.

Jarren smiled. "Excellent. Take us in for a landing, as close to that signal as you can."

"Err, the nearest clearing of decent size is several miles away from the beacon, I kin get her down, but it'll be a bit of a trek. I hope you're up for a nice hike."

******

The ship screamed through the atmosphere of the humid jungle world before finally coming to a rest in a clearing several kilometers away from the distress beacon.

"Okay. Sara, Frank, you're with me. Browski and Gates? Stay here and keep an eye on the ship. We'll call you when we reach the beacon."

With that, Jarren and his crew went along their paths, either staying in the ship or hacking through the jungle with low powered vibroblades, trying to make a path to the beacon. Little did the humans know that their lives were forfeit, and soon, someone would be around to collect...

OOC: [O'Neill mode]I know, but well, something tells me that stargates are somehow involved with your race...a bit...a tiny bit.[/O'Neill mode] :D

IC:
Issus>>>S3X-3747

A team of Republic troops scope out a new planet, partially for colonization, and partially to look for idigeneous peoples. There are 10. Colonel Timothy Haven. Jedi Apprentice Jack Langman. Dr. Gareth Doray, resident historian, Major William Vornak and 6 nameless privates (killable).

"Well, here we are in another fine and dandy Stargate mission." Dr. Doray said in a perpetrally irritating fashion, carrying a blaster rifle and historian equipment.

"Yeah, let's hope things go smooth here." The Colonel said as the Stargate closed behind them. "Jack, any sign of life?"

"None right now, but just animals and plants." Jack said. "But I'm feeling something funny..."

"Where?" The major asked.

"Don't know. I'll let you know if we're getting closer or something." Jack said.

"All right. Let's fan out, peoples, look for civilization!" The colonel ordered, and the team headed out with two teams of 5. They believe they would find mundane things, like small settlements, but soon, they'll find more than they bargained for...

"Blast. Looks like there's no where nearby to land. We're going to have to walk. Jervin, pack a trunk with the standard gear. Tomas, get out the brush knives."

Jardra brought the Tzen Kor down neatly in a small clearing, and the crew unloaded everything they thought they might need.

"This is a new world, and I don't know how dangerous it might be. We'll want to be careful. Tomas, Karon, you two go in front. We'll probably have to carve a path through this mess. Zertil, you next. Keep an eye out for trouble. Jervin, Relth, carry the gear. Saril, stay with the ship and watch the screens. Right, everyone ready? Let's go."

With Jardra guarding the rear, the little group set out towards the site of the crash.

OOC: Just waiting for Lord Atum. I'm just going to describe the inside of the ship after he posts.

In the meantime, just keep posting about your journeys to the mountain. I'll RP if events occur en route. Also, feel free to meet-up with each other. You will anyway.

San’ta’co looked at the ruin of the ship. It was quite safe to say that it was a write off, given the severe damage to its hull, buckling, fractures, plates torn. He leaned on a staff with a flared base, and looked around. He had been with them, in that of the ten people who had been aboard the ship, seven had survived the crash.

He looked over at Kelas, the second most senior of the warriors of Atum, limping slightly, and supporting a woman by the name of Sanah, along with Andah, a third warrior. “Praise be Atum,” San’ta’co said, the twinkle of insane fervour in his eye, “for He has spared us.”

Kelas found the idea of Atum sparing anyone very unlikely, given what he was known for. He also doubted the idea that Atum could see or hear them here. Supporting the weight of the half-conscious priestess, he grunted something noncommittal as he carefully lead her to a wide flat stone near the crash site. He was a young warrior, quite the deviant in his beliefs.

A fifth survivor clambered out of the battered and dented access tunnel, also carrying a staff like the others. “Ka’lat,” San’ta’co said, “any luck?”

“The computer is dead,” he said, “we won’t be getting anything else from it. But I did manage to find the chapp'ai, it is about three days walk to the west,” he said, pointing.

“Then this is clearly a test,” San’ta’co said, to a concealed look of scepticism from Kelas. He looked up at the sky, “We must be ready to march within the hour. He would expect nothing less.”

“Agreed,” said Tel’as and Kamak, one after another, rounding out the survivors. Kamak grinned, “I’m going to see if I can salvage a cannon from the wreck,” he added. There was little doubt in his mind that if this truly was a divine test, weapons would be required, and he, unlike everyone but the near-unconscious priestess had only a zat’nik’tel, a pistol like sidearm.

An hour later, they’d finally managed to bring her around. Clearly, Kamak thought, Ka’lat was thinking the same thing, and was busy coaching her in the basics of using the pistol-like sidearm. Or he could simply be using it as an excuse to spend time with her.

San’ta’co snapped at them, it was time to be going, and ordered the small group of warriors, and their guests, into a rough marching column.

"Voices ahead." Zertil said suddenly, his voice quiet. They were still far from the crash site.
Karon sheathed her brush knife, Jervin and Relth set down the trunk, and guns were produced from under ragged coats. Glancing about warily, the Hjari waited in near silence to find out who they were about to encounter...

OOC: It can be whoever, of course.

"Voices ahead." Zertil said suddenly, his voice quiet. They were still far from the crash site.
Karon sheathed her brush knife, Jervin and Relth set down the trunk, and guns were produced from under ragged coats. Glancing about warily, the Hjari waited in near silence to find out who they were about to encounter...

OOC: It can be whoever, of course.
The signatures grew stronger, on Jack's report, and the Stargate team readied their weapons just in case.

Raising his blaster, Colonel Haven spotted movement, and made hand-signals, telling the team to stop, spread out, and prepare.

Life signs. Four, at least, possibly more. Jack signaled to Tim, and Tim OKed.

An encounter was about to happen, and whether it was good or bad depends on both teams...

OOC: Six, as it happens. The Hjari are basically just waiting, watching all directions, so it's still your move. They're not going to open fire at the first sign of movement or anything.

They're a ragged looking bunch, and one might easily assume that they'd been stuck there for quite a while.

I see one. Major Vornak signaled.

Hold. Coming. The Colonel signaled back, and discreetly headed to the major's position.

"How's it look?" He asked in a whisper.

"He. Looks pretty ragged. Might be a native." The Major replied quietly.

"Ok. Let's try not to spook him..." The Colonel said. "Let's hope he's friendly."

"Right."

The two men stepped forward, in hopes of a friendly first contact...

As the two didn't have weapons pointed at him, Zertil returned the favor.

"Greetings. Something tells me you aren't the ones who sent off that distress call, right?"

As the two didn't have weapons pointed at him, Zertil returned the favor.

"Greetings. Something tells me you aren't the ones who sent off that distress call, right?"
"Distress call?" Colonel Haven asked. "and hi. I'm Colonel Haven, and this is Major Vornak."

"Dr. Doray, Apprentice Langman, please come out, over." The Colonel called the others, who soon arrived with the other soldiers.

"Honored to meet you. My name is Zertil Tandrek. You might describe me as 'Weapons Officer'."

Hearing the conversation, the others gathered; Zertil introduced each as they arrived.

"This is Tomas Keril. There's Jervin Gilvan, our technician. There's Relth Nevok, and Captain Jardra Mirsol. The lady in the back is Karon Salthier.

We just happened to be passing through the area and picked up some sort of distress signal, so we figured we should swing by and see what we could do to help. What brings you lot here?"

"Exploration. We found an old Stargate on our planet, and well, our President decided that it'd be nice to see where we could go with it." Colonel Haven said. "So you say someone put out a distress call here? Things are certainly picking up."

The jungle was dense, far denser than anything else Jarren had seen. It seemed to resist his vibroblade as he laboriously hacked his way through flora and occassional bits of fauna towards the beacon.

"Captain, I hear voices talking off to the left." Sara whispered quietly, as though the entire jungle was full of listening ears.

Silently, without ackgnowledgement Jarran turned his pathclearing blade to the left, silently slashing away the brush. Looking out into the jungle, he noticed a group of people conversing, the same voices that Sara had mentioned earlier.

"Those guys look well armed. We should just avoid them." Jarren was naturally cautious of well-armed military types, especially when his own 'expedition' had nothing more than low powered vibroblades and civilian grade slugthrowers for protection.

So Jarren and his group tried to sneak away as best they could. Unfortunately, 'as best as they could' wasn't good enough as Frank was bitten by a beaver like creature and in a rage induce stupor cried out "Goddamnit!" Frank's voice climbed throug the Jungle, no doubt alerting the people they had seen earlier to their presence.

OOC: Feh. Sucky post, but I don't have much time on my hands at the moment. More on the weekend I hope.

"Huh, sounds like someone got bitten." Jack said, cocking his head towards the curse. "I'll go check it out."

"All right." Tim gave the go ahead. The apprentice headed through the jungle, his senses tuned in with the Force as he sped through the undergrowth. He climbed a bit higher through the trees, and then found another group. Hmm...

Jack decided to watch the group a bit before deciding whether to meet them or not.

"Yes, but we have no idea who sent it out. From the sound of it, it was automa-" Jardra was saying when Frank cried out. Instantly, Jardra, Zertil, and Karon whirled to face the potential threat.

"Someone doesn't want to be seen. That makes me nervous." Jardra said.

As Jack went off to investigate, she added, "Zertil, go with him." The 'weapons officer' nodded, and moved after the Jedi apprentice in near-perfect silence.

*Bumps and waits for description of wraith ship, because it should be at least partially visible from where my guys are, I think.*

OOC: Sorry, haven't had a lot of time on my hands...

Oh, and you wouldn't see the ship...not yet...you would notice a giant freaken mountain where the distress-signal originated.

Oh, and I really don't have time now...so parden the crappy RPing.

IC:

+-+-+-+IN THE BELLY OF THE BEAST+-+-+-+

The Keeper was tired as he wiped the slime off of his body. He growled and frowned as he did so, utterly outraged.

The Keeper should have layed clean clothes out for me... the new Keeper said After all, if I'm going to trade shifts with her I should at least get proper clothes. I swear, I wil-

The Keeper paused suddenly, looking around the room. To the left and right of him were Hybernation tanks, yellow and white liquid holding a Wraith in each, lined-up wall-to-wall.

Yet...there was something wrong. The Keeper hadn't greeted him. There was no one around. Something had gone wrong...the Keeper knew it.

The Keeper walked up to one of the tanks and looked at it closely...

There were ice-crystals in the tank...
It had begun to freeze...

The Keeper cursed under his breath as he began to awake his comrades around him. There were 24 tanks in the room, of which 16 had been frozen-over, killing the Wraith inside. The remaining eight Wraith were just as disorganized as the Keeper. They all were blue-skinned, white-haired, and long-limbed; like all Wraith were. Their eyes were a variety of colors, some were bright-green, others were green and red, others still were sandy tan with green, and some were even yellow-green; yet one thing was the same among all of them: their eyes were bulged in hunger. They were ravenous.

The Keeper felt the pains of hunger himself, and realized that he had not eaten for a long, long time.

The Keeper looked around the room at the naked Wraith standing before him, and addressed them in his slithering, slick voice:

"We must find clothes, food, and information, in that order. I want you two," the Keeper pointed to the two Wraith at the end, "to find clothing. You three," pointing to the three next Wraith, "when you get your clothes, search the surrounding area for food. And you three, "the Keeper said, pointing to the last three Wraith, "shall come with me. We are going to figure out what happened."

The Wraith all nodded and began to move around. It was not long later that the two Wraith returned with nine sets of clothing...including a Keeper's vestment for the new Keeper.

The Keeper put on his clothes with some difficulty; for they were fitted for a Wraith half-a size smaller than himself, but he eventually got them on.

The three food-collecting Wraith, meanwhile, had moved into a hangar on the Hive Ship. There, they boarded three thin, long ships, almost dart-shape, and turned them on.

With a rush, the three ships raced out of the Hive Ship and began to fly around the immediate area. Their engine scream, a bone-chilling wail, could be heard throughout the Jungle valley.

They were looking for their prey...

The jaffa were walking along through the mountainous terrain with a slow pace, staff weapons slung. San’ta’co and the priestess, Sanah, were talking about theology. The priestess was talking about the new revelations in Atumist theology. For many years the illusion that the goa’uld were true gods, it had since been revealed that it was more a form of reincarnation, or semi-divinity, for the souls of the worthiest worshippers, that happened upon implantation.

It made much more sense, and only served to reinforce the image of Atum as an all powerful god. Those goa’uld who dared set themselves up as rivals of the Creator of the Universe were simply those who had let their loyalty to God slide. Those who served him bore the souls of holy beings, and were worthy of unquestioning allegiance. The normal goa’uld were once humans and jaffa priests, and Kull Warriors, the most devoted of jaffa warriors.

This of course, meant that the question of the invulnerability of goa’uld was no longer a question. They were eminently killable. But those in the good graces of Atum would simply be reborn. Those not in his favor would be banished to Sha’mel’ka’lar, the hellish realm of the heretical undead.

Suddenly, this discussion was brought to an end by the distinctive scream of the Wraith ship passing nearby. “What in Sokar’s Realm is that?” cried Ka’lat. He’d flown many Death Gliders in his time, which made noise passing through the air, but none had been so chilling as the Wraith vessel’s screech. There was no mistaking that sound for something that was even remotely friendly.

He unslung his weapon, a cannon powerful enough to down a Death Glider – wishing it had a shoulder-strap – and took another, more sane look at the fast flier. Rating his chances of hitting it with the clumsy weapon as only slightly more than his chances of jumping up and catching it.

“Err,” he cried, “get under cover!” He didn't know how little good that would do them if they had been spotted.

OOC: Man, I don't have any time anymore >_>

I want to have a few more people besides LA to respond. Then, I'll get everything.

(I know the referance of everything... but won't say anything out of respect.)

Humm. No luck. :mad:

(OOC might I take a crack at it I been wanting to get back in to RP, plus I want to introduce the G66 ground troops)