The Macabees
20-04-2005, 01:07
Faragonesa, Heart of the Imperium, Romanox Solar System
The wind whisteled through the empty streets of Faragonesa, capital city to the Imperium. The day before it had rustled with the noise of full sidewalks, and the cacophony of vehicles moving past could be heard from every corner of the metropolis. But this day something strange and unusual had shown itself. There was not a soul left to breath outside the houses of the city, and not a noise, except the wind itself, could be heard. It was as if it was abandoned. Some of the pavement of the streets could be seen as cracked, something which was not usually left in disrepair. Indeed, the Imperium spent thousands of Drachmas weekly to keep the city's streets impervious to fault. Moreover, entire chunks of entire buildings were missing, rubble strewn accross the street. It was obvious that this day was not the usual sun streaked day of the Empire. Tragedy had struck.
A low rumble displaced the once ear piercing silence which had been laid upon the city, like a blanket upong a baby, muffling the entire corpse. It chugged, and it did not sound like the diesel engines of old, but instead it was graceful, almost surreal. As it popped in from the corner, turning onto another barren street, it could be seen that the vehicle did not roll along the surface of the streets. Instead, a steady air cushion kept it elevated, fresh oxygen refreshing everything around it. It could be seen that it wasnt just any type of vehicle, but a tank, large 135mm plasma gun portruding from its turret. The plasma gun was something new to the Imperium, which had been falling behind in the technological advancements of the new world order, but evidently it had found its patron. However, this wasn't just a normal plasma gun, instead it used two rails, made of a polymer composites weaved through a tiny matrix. The polymer composite was composed of different metals and ceramics, and it all forged together to create one of the best super conducters known to man; one that faced no energy loss, making the plasma gun one of the most effecient guns in the area. The rails were powered by a series of motor generators and capacitors, smaller than the eye could see, burried beneath the thick, yet gentle, armor of the tank, which were in turn powered by a small uranium core. Many had thought it impossible, yet this proved it all the different. The uranium core was formed by three uranium rods, each no larger than four feet in length and three inches in diameter. Using advance injection techniques the uranium core was placed inside a ceramic "shoe", or encasement, which in turn was cooled by a tenth generation liquid nitrogen solution, providing the uranium core with an ample coolant to complete procedures. The small uranium core created enough static, which in turn carried electrical charge, to power the motor generators, which in turn powered all of the externalities of the tank. On paper the tank was one of the best in existance, it yet had to prove itself in real life.
It moved down the road a bit, but it soon encountered something it could not ignore. Whaaang. A single missile darted through the low rises of the buildings and soon began to plummet down towards the tank. None too fast the tank's top gun, a 7.62mm kinetic energy killer, caught the movement of the missile and used its powerful hydraulics to swivel it to meet the new threat. Two rounds left the gun in a single burst, following a path forged by a LIDAR transmitter attached to the gun. The two rounds cut a swath through the atmosphere and soon found their mark on the missile's warhead, forcing it to plummet elsewhere, sparing the lives of the crew.
After the strange happestance the streets again fell silent as the tank chugged off, apparently thinking itself too high in position to even think about what was going on. No, Faragonesa was not her normal self.
The sounds of vehicles again picked up, just as like the tank, only this time stronger. The thing that popped out from the corner this time was a string of things. It was a convoy. Composed of five of those same tanks, two larger military trucks, and then another vehicle with a chassis similar to that of the tank, only with bristling missiles heading towards the sky. That latter vehicle also was equipped with a fairly large megaphone, hooked up to the internal communications system of the vehicle. It blasted more propaganda than a normal human could take,"People of the imperium, a new age has dawned. This empire is no longer ruled by the careless Emperors of the Gilded Hills. Instead new leaders are vying for control of the entire solar system. The lords of the Golden Throne are fighting for your lives! They fight to craft a better world! What will you do? Join the resistance!"
It all became quite clear. Faragonesa had been taken through a violent coup headed by Lord Aetius Cattalus, from the House of the Golden Throne, the historic enemies of the Emperors of the Gilded Hills, the rulers of the Imperium for the past thousand years. However, it seemed as if Emperor Tiberius VI had escaped from the city before he could be killed, and so the Imperium erupted in civil war. The first day had not proved any let down in the fighting, and it was soon shown that both sides would not stop their endevours to kill the other until said thing occured. The Imperium had fractured, and total war had come to enshroud the ancient sense of security.
As if to underscore this latter point a sole squad of loyalist, those who still fought for Emperor Tiberius VI, moved silently from the doors of one of the buildings, careful not to stir the convoy. They failed. The last tank, with the megaphone, swiveled its set of four machine guns, spraying the area with highly lethal flechette rounds. The rounds would break before impact and then enter the bloodstream of who it hit. They would kill immediately, and there was no body armor that could stop them. The sole squad was massacred, blood filling the already broken streets. It was truly a tragedy. One that would last for quite a while.
The serenity of the city, which had quickly turned into a ghost town, did not match the battlefields outside the city. While the rebels mopped up Faragonesa ruthlessly, outside armies of tens of thosands of soldiers locked horns. Indeed, a long, long war.
The wind whisteled through the empty streets of Faragonesa, capital city to the Imperium. The day before it had rustled with the noise of full sidewalks, and the cacophony of vehicles moving past could be heard from every corner of the metropolis. But this day something strange and unusual had shown itself. There was not a soul left to breath outside the houses of the city, and not a noise, except the wind itself, could be heard. It was as if it was abandoned. Some of the pavement of the streets could be seen as cracked, something which was not usually left in disrepair. Indeed, the Imperium spent thousands of Drachmas weekly to keep the city's streets impervious to fault. Moreover, entire chunks of entire buildings were missing, rubble strewn accross the street. It was obvious that this day was not the usual sun streaked day of the Empire. Tragedy had struck.
A low rumble displaced the once ear piercing silence which had been laid upon the city, like a blanket upong a baby, muffling the entire corpse. It chugged, and it did not sound like the diesel engines of old, but instead it was graceful, almost surreal. As it popped in from the corner, turning onto another barren street, it could be seen that the vehicle did not roll along the surface of the streets. Instead, a steady air cushion kept it elevated, fresh oxygen refreshing everything around it. It could be seen that it wasnt just any type of vehicle, but a tank, large 135mm plasma gun portruding from its turret. The plasma gun was something new to the Imperium, which had been falling behind in the technological advancements of the new world order, but evidently it had found its patron. However, this wasn't just a normal plasma gun, instead it used two rails, made of a polymer composites weaved through a tiny matrix. The polymer composite was composed of different metals and ceramics, and it all forged together to create one of the best super conducters known to man; one that faced no energy loss, making the plasma gun one of the most effecient guns in the area. The rails were powered by a series of motor generators and capacitors, smaller than the eye could see, burried beneath the thick, yet gentle, armor of the tank, which were in turn powered by a small uranium core. Many had thought it impossible, yet this proved it all the different. The uranium core was formed by three uranium rods, each no larger than four feet in length and three inches in diameter. Using advance injection techniques the uranium core was placed inside a ceramic "shoe", or encasement, which in turn was cooled by a tenth generation liquid nitrogen solution, providing the uranium core with an ample coolant to complete procedures. The small uranium core created enough static, which in turn carried electrical charge, to power the motor generators, which in turn powered all of the externalities of the tank. On paper the tank was one of the best in existance, it yet had to prove itself in real life.
It moved down the road a bit, but it soon encountered something it could not ignore. Whaaang. A single missile darted through the low rises of the buildings and soon began to plummet down towards the tank. None too fast the tank's top gun, a 7.62mm kinetic energy killer, caught the movement of the missile and used its powerful hydraulics to swivel it to meet the new threat. Two rounds left the gun in a single burst, following a path forged by a LIDAR transmitter attached to the gun. The two rounds cut a swath through the atmosphere and soon found their mark on the missile's warhead, forcing it to plummet elsewhere, sparing the lives of the crew.
After the strange happestance the streets again fell silent as the tank chugged off, apparently thinking itself too high in position to even think about what was going on. No, Faragonesa was not her normal self.
The sounds of vehicles again picked up, just as like the tank, only this time stronger. The thing that popped out from the corner this time was a string of things. It was a convoy. Composed of five of those same tanks, two larger military trucks, and then another vehicle with a chassis similar to that of the tank, only with bristling missiles heading towards the sky. That latter vehicle also was equipped with a fairly large megaphone, hooked up to the internal communications system of the vehicle. It blasted more propaganda than a normal human could take,"People of the imperium, a new age has dawned. This empire is no longer ruled by the careless Emperors of the Gilded Hills. Instead new leaders are vying for control of the entire solar system. The lords of the Golden Throne are fighting for your lives! They fight to craft a better world! What will you do? Join the resistance!"
It all became quite clear. Faragonesa had been taken through a violent coup headed by Lord Aetius Cattalus, from the House of the Golden Throne, the historic enemies of the Emperors of the Gilded Hills, the rulers of the Imperium for the past thousand years. However, it seemed as if Emperor Tiberius VI had escaped from the city before he could be killed, and so the Imperium erupted in civil war. The first day had not proved any let down in the fighting, and it was soon shown that both sides would not stop their endevours to kill the other until said thing occured. The Imperium had fractured, and total war had come to enshroud the ancient sense of security.
As if to underscore this latter point a sole squad of loyalist, those who still fought for Emperor Tiberius VI, moved silently from the doors of one of the buildings, careful not to stir the convoy. They failed. The last tank, with the megaphone, swiveled its set of four machine guns, spraying the area with highly lethal flechette rounds. The rounds would break before impact and then enter the bloodstream of who it hit. They would kill immediately, and there was no body armor that could stop them. The sole squad was massacred, blood filling the already broken streets. It was truly a tragedy. One that would last for quite a while.
The serenity of the city, which had quickly turned into a ghost town, did not match the battlefields outside the city. While the rebels mopped up Faragonesa ruthlessly, outside armies of tens of thosands of soldiers locked horns. Indeed, a long, long war.