Honru
15-06-2005, 04:06
A short history of the Honru System. Originally settled by gnomish and human colonists several centuries past, the system formed one of the two outer possessions of Bandalok, the other being Tyndal. Its distance from Bandalok proper and that nation’s quasi-liberalistic attitudes allowed Honru to develop a flowering, tolerant culture that thrived on art and inclusion of myriad races. Then the Skeelzanians arrived.
In O.E. 399 Imperial Fleets overran Honru, now an independent system, as part of a general “crusade” against Bandalok. Skeelzanian forces quickly seized control of the major cities and deposed the human governor, Jedediah Arraf. General Malos, his replacement, did not share his predecessor’s liberal views, and immediately set about molding Honru along Skeelzanian lines. Opening the system to colonization, he rapidly industrialized the founding worlds of Korwik I and II, as well as settling the planets Hsoowi and Ylubb. Honru nationalism was ruthlessly oppressed as Skeelzanian settlers flooded the system.
Now, fifty years have passed. Internal unrest grips Skeelzania, still recovering from the Imperial Restoration. Its fleets lay dormant and unable to extend Imperial Rule to its outer systems, including Honru. To make matters worse, General Malos has recently passed away without appointing a predecessor. Seizing their chance, Honrunii nationalists and the aged Arraf stand ready to free their country from foreign control…
*** *** *** *** ***
“Skeelzania OUT! Skeelzania OUT!” The chant was unceasing. Several thousand Honrunii, mostly students, filled the street in front of the city police station. About two-hundred police stood between them and the squat, steel-and-concrete structure. Old-style Skeelzanian banners, still emblazoned with the Imperial Fist, fluttered from poles on the roof. Students in the front rows occasionally threw rocks, bottles, and other street-debris at the flag, though more often than not the missiles fell on the police.
Standing in two ranks of a hundred men, the police formed a steel-and-silver wall, incased in their riot armor. Derived from an older model of combat armor, it was impervious to rocks and bottles, few of which got past the “Zulu” riot shields each cop carried. They had been standing in the street for nearly four hours, ever since the demonstration began, and were getting impatient. Using his built-in voice amplifiers, the captain addressed the crowd, again. “This is your final warning! You are hereby ordered to disperse or aggressive force will be used.” The demonstrators answered with a fresh round of chants and another volley of rocks.
The captain switched to general freak. “Alright lads, weapons out. Let’s disperse these colonials.” As one, the police drew their “short” swords from their sheaths, the sharpened steal glittering in the sunlight. Actually closer in length to 76 centimeters, the gladius’ were brutal stabbing weapons designed for use with the heavy shields. Breaking into a run, the police smashed into the first rank of Honrunii.
Students fell to the ground screaming as the stabbing blades made short work of them. The first row was annihilated within moments, the second soon after. Panic gripped the crowd as the police continued their methodical advance, the front ranks turning on the rear in order to escape. The crowd wavered, regained a little composure, and then broke as everyone ran for their lives. The riot police pursued, hacking at the knees of anyone in range. As the unit rounded a corner, the first rank came skidding to a halt. Several hundred more officers filled the street in front of them, some in riot gear, and others in beat uniforms. Rallied demonstrators were in their midst, but the officers made no move to arrest them. To a man, they were all Honrunii.
With “Freedom for Honru!”, the combined forces fell upon the riot police. They used guns, batons, swords, any weapon at hand. The riot heavily resembled a medieval battlefield, with armored police clashing with sword and shield. Although inflicting grievous casualties on the demonstrators and their police allies, the riot cops were being overwhelmed. When the call to retreat came through they quickly disengaged, running back to their station. Honrunii cheered in the streets.
*** *** *** *** ***
“This is the Gamma News Network, Honru Edition with Strom Wallace. Which would be, uh, me.
“Civil unrests continues in the province of Honru tonight following the street battle in Krowikkan Prime. Students from the Imperial College on Krowik I had staged an unlawful demonstration outside of 4th precinct headquarters in the city, which was dispersed by riot police of that precinct.
“Soon after the protestors were dispersed, treason gripped the ranks of the Honru Police. The 5th, 3rd, and 7th battalion forcibly intervened in mop-up operations in the 4th precinct, assisting the student rebels with battling the police. Although fighting valiantly, the 4th Battalion was eventually forced to withdraw to the safety of their station, where they remain under siege. Details are still sketchy, but it appears several hundred protestors were wounded during dispersal. Upwards of thirty officers have died on both sides…”
*** *** *** *** ***
The black ground car slowed to a halt in front of the manor house, its façade grayed and cracked. The lawn, once bright green, was now sulfurous yellow. The whole neighborhood had a similar look, the look of a once opulent area having run out of money.
A young man opened the driver’s door and stepped onto the curb. His clothes were plain, but still reasonably middle class. He was dark-featured with raven-black hair and slight build, marks of a Tortugan ancestry. He quickly opened the passenger door, murmured a few words to the man inside, and then helped him out. The passenger looked like an older version of the driver, with graying hair and a wrinkled face. Slowly they both walked up to the mansion’s door, which the driver gave a sharp rap.
A curtain was quickly pulled back, and then dropped back into place. The sounds of latches being undone could be heard through the door, which was subsequently opened by an elf. The two new arrivals followed him into the manor’s dining room, which was filled with men and women of various species. All rose to greet Jedediah Arraf, last “official” ruler of the Republic of Honru.
Eventually he was able to greet every one of them personally, and they could finally get down to business. A tall Elven man began the meeting. “Firstly, I would like to think Governor Arraf for attending this meeting tonight. Although you may be long in years, your love and dedication to Honru has obviously not diminished.” A round of applause from the seated members. “However, if our dreams of an independent Honru are to be realized I fear that we must act quickly. As you know, Skeelzania is in turmoil following the Imperial Restoration. Liberal statesmen are being hunted in the streets, and the military has thrown its support behind Hamilcar and his Vehmic Party. The man, whatever his claims to the throne, is quite obviously mad. He has publicly stated that he will take revenge on the Elven nations who ‘wronged’ Skeelzania in the past, and I fear that his wrath will extend to Honru as well.”
A gnomish man down the table, formally a senator, began to fidget. “Ty’zolin’s fears are shared by my people. Those of us who haven’t been rounded up for treason feel that, once Hamilcar can properly exert his power, he will finish us off once and for all. No xeno will be safe from him, and who can say he won’t carry out his threats against non-Skeelzanian humans?” His ink-black eyes darted around the table, peering nervously at the various human guests. Most were Honrunii, a mix of Tortugan and Arenumbergian heritage, but a few were immigrants from Solar nations. They too had their fears about the vehemently anti-Solar Skeelzot.
Ty’zolin continued. “Quite right. As I said, the man is obviously mad. He will not suffer such a large Xeno population within Skeelzania; frankly it’s a miracle that Honru didn’t have the same fate as Exante.”
A human female snorted derisively. “Malos was too busy raping our resources and building factories to purge xenos I reckon.”
“Be that as it may, Hamilcar will not ignore us so readily. Once he gets a sizeable fleet together he will fall on us like a hammer unless we do something.”
“And what would that be?” squeaked another gnome. “Open rebellion? Spill Skeelzanian blood in the streets? Ha! Why not just kill yourself in front of Hamilcar’s Throne? We’re alone, isolated, a back water! Bandalok will not help us, and the Orks certainly won’t. There’s no way we could possibly resist a Skeelzanian attack.”
“So what should we do? Try and bribe Hamilcar with drugs and money? I bet you’d love to do that you little grubber-” Arguments quickly broke out around the table. It were those hurried, frantic arguments when everyone was scared and no one knew what to do. The fact that Hamilcar Skeelzot had preached vengeance against xenos, keeblers, and “backstabbing fremden” was well established, he had said so himself upon ascension to the Imperial throne. Since roughly 2/3s of Honru’s population fell into that category, they had right to be afraid. But damned if they knew what to do about it.
“Silence!” A gnarled hand flew up, and everyone became silence. All heads turned to Jedediah Arraf, speaking for the first time as part of the meeting. “This bickering works only to serve our common enemy. Skeelzot hates us, of that we are certain. We also know that if we do nothing we will surely die. We must reassert our independence, to resist the Skeelzanian occupations. However, we cannot do it alone.”
*** *** *** *** ***
As the sun dipped over the horizon, Jedediah Arraf entered the small broadcasting station. Although sub-etha communication equipment owned by civilians was strictly prohibited, smugglers had brought in enough over the years to build up a rather powerful relay. His message would now be heard throughout the galaxy, maybe even the universe. He only hoped that someone would listen.
The filming rule was a crude affair. An old wooden desk with a poorly-padded chair filled most of it. The Honru flag, white fist on blue field, hung against the back wall. A potted plant quietly died in the corner. Settling himself into the chair, Arraf began to speak.
“Citizens of the galaxy, I come before you as a humble man who desires nothing but freedom. I am Jedediah Arraf, governor of Honru and a patriot. We once had a small, prosperous country, filled with loving people, beautiful forests, and sparkling oceans. The Skeelzanians have destroyed that. The oceans are crowded with floating factories, the forests clear cut for factories, and the family broken as husband and wife, brother and sister, are moved across the world to work as slaves. We are a patient people, but even ours has limits.
“Hamlicar Skeelzot, the so-called ‘Divine Emperor’ of Skeelzania, seeks to destroy us before we can declare our freedom and independence. He does not see us as Honrunii, elves, and gnomes. We are nothing but Xenos and Keeblers, dregs of the universe and trash to be set aflame. Where his predecessors once sought to suppress, he will destroy. As the legal ruler of Honru, I cannot allow that to happen.
“I hereby announce the creation and independence of the Republic of Honru, encompassing the planets of Krowik I, Krowik II, Hsoowi, and Ylubb. However, Hamilcar can be counted on not to sit idly by while we forge our independence. Imperial retribution will surely be swift and harsh, against people who only desire to live freely. To the intergalactic community I deplore you, please stand with us in our fight for survival.”
In O.E. 399 Imperial Fleets overran Honru, now an independent system, as part of a general “crusade” against Bandalok. Skeelzanian forces quickly seized control of the major cities and deposed the human governor, Jedediah Arraf. General Malos, his replacement, did not share his predecessor’s liberal views, and immediately set about molding Honru along Skeelzanian lines. Opening the system to colonization, he rapidly industrialized the founding worlds of Korwik I and II, as well as settling the planets Hsoowi and Ylubb. Honru nationalism was ruthlessly oppressed as Skeelzanian settlers flooded the system.
Now, fifty years have passed. Internal unrest grips Skeelzania, still recovering from the Imperial Restoration. Its fleets lay dormant and unable to extend Imperial Rule to its outer systems, including Honru. To make matters worse, General Malos has recently passed away without appointing a predecessor. Seizing their chance, Honrunii nationalists and the aged Arraf stand ready to free their country from foreign control…
*** *** *** *** ***
“Skeelzania OUT! Skeelzania OUT!” The chant was unceasing. Several thousand Honrunii, mostly students, filled the street in front of the city police station. About two-hundred police stood between them and the squat, steel-and-concrete structure. Old-style Skeelzanian banners, still emblazoned with the Imperial Fist, fluttered from poles on the roof. Students in the front rows occasionally threw rocks, bottles, and other street-debris at the flag, though more often than not the missiles fell on the police.
Standing in two ranks of a hundred men, the police formed a steel-and-silver wall, incased in their riot armor. Derived from an older model of combat armor, it was impervious to rocks and bottles, few of which got past the “Zulu” riot shields each cop carried. They had been standing in the street for nearly four hours, ever since the demonstration began, and were getting impatient. Using his built-in voice amplifiers, the captain addressed the crowd, again. “This is your final warning! You are hereby ordered to disperse or aggressive force will be used.” The demonstrators answered with a fresh round of chants and another volley of rocks.
The captain switched to general freak. “Alright lads, weapons out. Let’s disperse these colonials.” As one, the police drew their “short” swords from their sheaths, the sharpened steal glittering in the sunlight. Actually closer in length to 76 centimeters, the gladius’ were brutal stabbing weapons designed for use with the heavy shields. Breaking into a run, the police smashed into the first rank of Honrunii.
Students fell to the ground screaming as the stabbing blades made short work of them. The first row was annihilated within moments, the second soon after. Panic gripped the crowd as the police continued their methodical advance, the front ranks turning on the rear in order to escape. The crowd wavered, regained a little composure, and then broke as everyone ran for their lives. The riot police pursued, hacking at the knees of anyone in range. As the unit rounded a corner, the first rank came skidding to a halt. Several hundred more officers filled the street in front of them, some in riot gear, and others in beat uniforms. Rallied demonstrators were in their midst, but the officers made no move to arrest them. To a man, they were all Honrunii.
With “Freedom for Honru!”, the combined forces fell upon the riot police. They used guns, batons, swords, any weapon at hand. The riot heavily resembled a medieval battlefield, with armored police clashing with sword and shield. Although inflicting grievous casualties on the demonstrators and their police allies, the riot cops were being overwhelmed. When the call to retreat came through they quickly disengaged, running back to their station. Honrunii cheered in the streets.
*** *** *** *** ***
“This is the Gamma News Network, Honru Edition with Strom Wallace. Which would be, uh, me.
“Civil unrests continues in the province of Honru tonight following the street battle in Krowikkan Prime. Students from the Imperial College on Krowik I had staged an unlawful demonstration outside of 4th precinct headquarters in the city, which was dispersed by riot police of that precinct.
“Soon after the protestors were dispersed, treason gripped the ranks of the Honru Police. The 5th, 3rd, and 7th battalion forcibly intervened in mop-up operations in the 4th precinct, assisting the student rebels with battling the police. Although fighting valiantly, the 4th Battalion was eventually forced to withdraw to the safety of their station, where they remain under siege. Details are still sketchy, but it appears several hundred protestors were wounded during dispersal. Upwards of thirty officers have died on both sides…”
*** *** *** *** ***
The black ground car slowed to a halt in front of the manor house, its façade grayed and cracked. The lawn, once bright green, was now sulfurous yellow. The whole neighborhood had a similar look, the look of a once opulent area having run out of money.
A young man opened the driver’s door and stepped onto the curb. His clothes were plain, but still reasonably middle class. He was dark-featured with raven-black hair and slight build, marks of a Tortugan ancestry. He quickly opened the passenger door, murmured a few words to the man inside, and then helped him out. The passenger looked like an older version of the driver, with graying hair and a wrinkled face. Slowly they both walked up to the mansion’s door, which the driver gave a sharp rap.
A curtain was quickly pulled back, and then dropped back into place. The sounds of latches being undone could be heard through the door, which was subsequently opened by an elf. The two new arrivals followed him into the manor’s dining room, which was filled with men and women of various species. All rose to greet Jedediah Arraf, last “official” ruler of the Republic of Honru.
Eventually he was able to greet every one of them personally, and they could finally get down to business. A tall Elven man began the meeting. “Firstly, I would like to think Governor Arraf for attending this meeting tonight. Although you may be long in years, your love and dedication to Honru has obviously not diminished.” A round of applause from the seated members. “However, if our dreams of an independent Honru are to be realized I fear that we must act quickly. As you know, Skeelzania is in turmoil following the Imperial Restoration. Liberal statesmen are being hunted in the streets, and the military has thrown its support behind Hamilcar and his Vehmic Party. The man, whatever his claims to the throne, is quite obviously mad. He has publicly stated that he will take revenge on the Elven nations who ‘wronged’ Skeelzania in the past, and I fear that his wrath will extend to Honru as well.”
A gnomish man down the table, formally a senator, began to fidget. “Ty’zolin’s fears are shared by my people. Those of us who haven’t been rounded up for treason feel that, once Hamilcar can properly exert his power, he will finish us off once and for all. No xeno will be safe from him, and who can say he won’t carry out his threats against non-Skeelzanian humans?” His ink-black eyes darted around the table, peering nervously at the various human guests. Most were Honrunii, a mix of Tortugan and Arenumbergian heritage, but a few were immigrants from Solar nations. They too had their fears about the vehemently anti-Solar Skeelzot.
Ty’zolin continued. “Quite right. As I said, the man is obviously mad. He will not suffer such a large Xeno population within Skeelzania; frankly it’s a miracle that Honru didn’t have the same fate as Exante.”
A human female snorted derisively. “Malos was too busy raping our resources and building factories to purge xenos I reckon.”
“Be that as it may, Hamilcar will not ignore us so readily. Once he gets a sizeable fleet together he will fall on us like a hammer unless we do something.”
“And what would that be?” squeaked another gnome. “Open rebellion? Spill Skeelzanian blood in the streets? Ha! Why not just kill yourself in front of Hamilcar’s Throne? We’re alone, isolated, a back water! Bandalok will not help us, and the Orks certainly won’t. There’s no way we could possibly resist a Skeelzanian attack.”
“So what should we do? Try and bribe Hamilcar with drugs and money? I bet you’d love to do that you little grubber-” Arguments quickly broke out around the table. It were those hurried, frantic arguments when everyone was scared and no one knew what to do. The fact that Hamilcar Skeelzot had preached vengeance against xenos, keeblers, and “backstabbing fremden” was well established, he had said so himself upon ascension to the Imperial throne. Since roughly 2/3s of Honru’s population fell into that category, they had right to be afraid. But damned if they knew what to do about it.
“Silence!” A gnarled hand flew up, and everyone became silence. All heads turned to Jedediah Arraf, speaking for the first time as part of the meeting. “This bickering works only to serve our common enemy. Skeelzot hates us, of that we are certain. We also know that if we do nothing we will surely die. We must reassert our independence, to resist the Skeelzanian occupations. However, we cannot do it alone.”
*** *** *** *** ***
As the sun dipped over the horizon, Jedediah Arraf entered the small broadcasting station. Although sub-etha communication equipment owned by civilians was strictly prohibited, smugglers had brought in enough over the years to build up a rather powerful relay. His message would now be heard throughout the galaxy, maybe even the universe. He only hoped that someone would listen.
The filming rule was a crude affair. An old wooden desk with a poorly-padded chair filled most of it. The Honru flag, white fist on blue field, hung against the back wall. A potted plant quietly died in the corner. Settling himself into the chair, Arraf began to speak.
“Citizens of the galaxy, I come before you as a humble man who desires nothing but freedom. I am Jedediah Arraf, governor of Honru and a patriot. We once had a small, prosperous country, filled with loving people, beautiful forests, and sparkling oceans. The Skeelzanians have destroyed that. The oceans are crowded with floating factories, the forests clear cut for factories, and the family broken as husband and wife, brother and sister, are moved across the world to work as slaves. We are a patient people, but even ours has limits.
“Hamlicar Skeelzot, the so-called ‘Divine Emperor’ of Skeelzania, seeks to destroy us before we can declare our freedom and independence. He does not see us as Honrunii, elves, and gnomes. We are nothing but Xenos and Keeblers, dregs of the universe and trash to be set aflame. Where his predecessors once sought to suppress, he will destroy. As the legal ruler of Honru, I cannot allow that to happen.
“I hereby announce the creation and independence of the Republic of Honru, encompassing the planets of Krowik I, Krowik II, Hsoowi, and Ylubb. However, Hamilcar can be counted on not to sit idly by while we forge our independence. Imperial retribution will surely be swift and harsh, against people who only desire to live freely. To the intergalactic community I deplore you, please stand with us in our fight for survival.”