NationStates Jolt Archive

[OOC: I’m hoping someone with territory nearby me (reference here (http://img189.imageshack.us/img189/6032/galaxy9ut.png)) to join in as the nation in control of the world I just jumped to. If you would like to do that, let me know with a TG, or post a response. I hope this leads to profitable dealings with the aforementioned nation, and with any other FT power who wishes to become involved.]

The Solar Collective, isolationist and set at on the outer edges of the Perseus Arm, it was but one of the dozens of inter-planetary governments the Milky Way had thus spawned. However, despite its location - unknowingly surrounded by empires whose might was beyond its grasp - the distance and inhospitality of space had long worked in favor of the Collective while its people developed and prospered, eventually reaching the stars. Now, the reign of blissful ignorance was to come to an end as the people of the Collective would find themselves no longer secure in the knowledge they were alone in the universe…

-----

“Exiting subspace on my count. 3, 2, 1, Now!” The dark void of space and time briefly was torn open and the SC 801 appeared amid a shimmer of blue light. As the ship decelerated, a planet came into view.

SC 801 was the official designation for the ship known to its crew as the Kveta. Measuring just over 360 meters and sporting the most advanced technology the Collective had at its disposal, including standard ion and newer subspace engines, as well as an array of rail weapons and a new subspace communications system, the SC 801 was the premier warship of the Solar Collective’s small Starfleet. She had been constructed the preceding year with one purpose in mind, deployment to unexplored worlds in order to secure them for Collectivist expansion.

“Sir, we can confirm we are on target. The computer readings indicate our position to be 30.82 light years from Collective territory, and our orientation is correct.”

“Very good,” The captain of the SC 801 walked towards the helm of his ship and stood, his cobalt-blue uniform in deep contrast with the blackness of the space outside. “Launch a subspace communications relay. Confirm our arrival. I want preliminary scan of the planet: life forms, heat sources, and radiation. Report any findings to me at once.” As he walked away, he added one final order. “Oh, and exec, relay our travel time and speed to our engineers at the Gabiko yards. They’ll be happy to hear the ship is all they said it would be.” Exiting the bridge, he finished, “Just 22 days. Astounding.”

Before the door had closed, his Executive officer was heard to yell back, “Sir, you may want to stay on the bridge and see this.”

In an instant the captain was back in the bridge.

“Something’s moving out there,” The exec informed him. He needn’t have said anything. At that moment, the silhouette of another ship appeared, moving across the red backdrop of the target planet.

“Activate all defensive systems. Christ, that’s big.”

OOC: I might like to be the nation you've encountered, as I've always pictured Sucello to be a red planet.

Tag for later response, tell me if I'm close enough for it to work

Tag, I might be interested; always nice to make new friends :)

[OOC: It depends how far your territory stretches, but I think that would work. The Solar Collective is only five planets on three different systems, with a total area of under 400 ly^2, so my ship is only going to be 1-2 pixles from the dot which denotes where the Solar Collective is loacted (50-60 ly).]

[OOC: Basically, I need to know who's got territory right by me. I know there are some huge FT empires - Chronosia, I think you are one, though I could be wrong - and they could easily have an outpost in my area. If neither of you do, then there is the option that our ships are just crossing paths over an unoccupied planet. With that option, I'd go with Chronosia bacause of total posts, but I will work both of you in one way or another.]

Tag...the Concordiat has probes all over the Galaxy and even the Outside...so maybe we get involved. Maybe.

OOC: I'd say going by posts isn't really that good....the join date is alittle better, Chronosia is the bigger of the two with 5 billion some odd people. However, i only have almost 3 billion (but am very close to u and my ships are always out collecting data on systems)

Tag for later reply (hehe chrono i'm gonna stalk u into threads now)
Earliest post tomorrow, latest sunday afternoon

The Triune Systems of the Sucellan Governance of Tannenmille stretch for ~8.57142857 square kiloparsecs if you put a box around them all, or 91,185,180.9 square lightyears. However, since that's terribly wankful, only about 7,400 square lightyears of the Governance are considered populated. There are 75 planets in the Governance, and 28 are population centers. The rest are Forgeworlds or Agricultural Worlds. I know it's huge for only having about 600 million population from NationStates, but for roleplaying purposes I give myself around 2-3 billion just for plausibility.

OOC: Though I am an immense empire, I still go by my NS pop; I can only ever field around 5000 ships; can't even count my conventional troops; anyways, I'll post in. Also, how do people know where I am on that map...

IC:

The ship slid like a serpent across the shimmering backdrop of the crimson world; a black dagger against the gleaming red skin of the planet; before stopping; its vast sensor arrays surging forth to encapsulate and analyse the vessel.

Foreign Vessel; you have entered the territory of the Imperium Weapons systems crackled forth, sliding from protective sheathes and crevices, readying for the slightest provocation.

In the name of the Daemon Emperor, Marcus De Drakan, identify yourselves. I repeat; Identify yourselves.

The Triune Systems of the Sucellan Governance of Tannenmille stretch for ~8.57142857 square kiloparsecs if you put a box around them all, or 91,185,180.9 square lightyears. However, since that's terribly wankful, only about 7,400 square lightyears of the Governance are considered populated. There are 75 planets in the Governance, and 28 are population centers. The rest are Forgeworlds or Agricultural Worlds. I know it's huge for only having about 600 million population from NationStates, but for roleplaying purposes I give myself around 2-3 billion just for plausibility.

That would probably put you very close to, if not bordering the Solar Collective, so I think you're qualified to post.

Also, on the issue of my technology (since I think understand is necessary for you to know what you're dealing with), here's what you're dealing with:

- No shielding
- No lasers/turbolasers
- No energy-torpedoes
- 34 Rail-Gun Turrets (vairous sizes and velocities)
- Sublight communications system, with launchable subspace communications pods
- Four standard cold-fusion reactors
- Top speed of 598.7 c
- Crew of 85

Yeah, nothing too scarry there... Poor me :(

OOC: Though I am an immense empire, I still go by my NS pop; I can only ever field around 5000 ships; can't even count my conventional troops; anyways, I'll post in. Also, how do people know where I am on that map...

IC:

The ship slid like a serpent across the shimmering backdrop of the crimson world; a black dagger against the gleaming red skin of the planet; before stopping; its vast sensor arrays surging forth to encapsulate and analyse the vessel.

Foreign Vessel; you have entered the territory of the Imperium Weapons systems crackled forth, sliding from protective sheathes and crevices, readying for the slightest provocation.

In the name of the Daemon Emperor, Marcus De Drakan, identify yourselves. I repeat; Identify yourselves.

“Sir, we have inbound communications coming on both sublight and subspace channels. Patching the message through now.”

A short burst of audio followed shortly thereafter, shaking the deathly stillness of the bridge with the gravity of what was heard.

Foreign Vessel; you have entered the territory of the Imperium. In the name of the Daemon Emperor, Marcus De Drakan, identify yourselves. I repeat; Identify yourselves.

“My god, they’re human. That’s – basic?” The commander muttered, naming the language spoken as it was known throughout the Collective – basic, the language used between the settlers of different worlds.

“Sir, shall we patch a response through?” The communications officer was nervous, and the tone of his voice betrayed that fact.

“Yes. Sublight channels only – no need to waste another relay. Identify the ship, our point of origin, and our mission here - and damn it, be polite!” His orders came quickly and calmly, allowing the crew to relax slightly, their manner only broken by the final outburst, something he had added for the Executive officer’s benefit.

“Aye. Transmit the following,” the Exec looked back at his superior before continuing.

This is the Solar Collective Vessel SC 801 Kveta. We launched from our shipyard facilities on the planet Gabiko 23 days ago, with orders to explore this planet in preparation for a colonization effort planned by the Collectivist Government.

ooc: mind if I join in, I'm a wanderer nation and at anyone time can be found practically anywhere.

ooc: mind if I join in, I'm a wanderer nation and at anyone time can be found practically anywhere.

[OOC: I would be honored, Theao. Just wait for a little bit. I don't want ships suddenly warping in from every direction, but I will work you in too.]

This planet is under the protection of the Daemon Emperor, pending colonisation. Identify your culture
The ship allows its weapons to retract; the claws covered from the fist; the hand of friendship revealed, and now offered forth to this strange race.

We ask that members of the Adeptus Mechanicus be allowed aboard your vessel, to observe your culture and allow us to learn more of your civilisation. The Imperium shall, of course, respond in kind. Our Emperor is always willing to contact new cultures; to learn from them as we expand amongst the stars under the guidance of the Dark Gods

The ship turned; its course slipping towards the Collective vessel.

We await your response

“Send them this response: We will allow one ambassador to board our ship, and ask that we be allowed to do the same. We further request that the ambassador be unarmed while aboard our vessel; ours will follow the same conditions.”

“But we aren’t permitted to allow anyone onboard this vessel other than Collectivist Fleet personnel. We can’t bring our own civilians onboard, much less a foreigner and possible enemy.” The Executive office complained, visibly distressed by his new orders.

“Exec, shut up and give me your gun. You’re going aboard. Comms, relay that message.”

SC 801 Kveta: We will allow one ambassador to board our ship, and ask that we be allowed to do the same. We further request that the ambassador be unarmed while aboard our vessel; ours will follow the same conditions.

As you wish; we shall dispatch the ambassador now; a member of the Adeptus Mechanicus; Tech Priests of Mars

The Adept stepped into the shuttle, a cowl over his head, hiding his features, sighing as he felt the shudder of take off, and the shuttle surged forth towards the Collective's ship. He pulled back the hood; bald head gleaming with input sockets; his eyes replaced by augmetic sensors which dug into his very flesh; a breather covering his mouth, with cables running through the flesh of his neck.

Mechanical tendrils snaked under his robes, and a servo-arm bulged from his back, hovering over his right shoulder. He felt the gentle bump of docking, turning as the ramp began to lower, and he stepped forth, resplendant in his blessings to the hallowed machine.

The Imperium’s representative stepped off of his shuttle and into the tiny fighter bay mounted in the undersides of the Kveta, welcomed by gasps from the crew’s eight-man marine contingent, deployed to escort the Ambassador. They had expected something a little more… human, judging by the transmissions, and the clod lifeless gaze of the Adept struck them all with terror.

Frightened, but not allowing that fear to show, the unarmed Executive officer stepped aboard the docked vessel, taking the place of the Adept as the shuttle detached and moved slowly away from the Kveta. Once inside, he took a deep breath and announced himself.

“I am Executive Office Milos Borovik, of the SC 801 Kveta.”

-----

Onboard, the marines were recovering from their shock, their pulse weapons pointed hesitantly at the floor after seeing that the foreign ambassador did not make any hostile movements. After a moment, the Captain stepped forward from behind the pack of marines and the staring engineering crew, and, like his contemporary now en-rout to the Imperium vessel, introduced himself to the strange mold of man and machine he was now faced with in traditional military fashion, complete with an ending salute.

“Rear Admiral Bedrich, Commanding Officer of the SCS Kveta.”

"I am Tech Adept Caius, I have been sent by the Imperium to examine your culture and technology; we of the Adeptus prize technology over all things; such is the way of the Machine God" He paused, blessing himself.

"The others your diplomat shall encounter are more...seeming of humanity; they worship their four gods of Chaos, but we; we seek perfection in form; the final offering to the machine. To be of the Machine is to be closer to the Machine God" He bowed his head slightly. "Forgive me, I ramble. In Chronosia there are worlds dedicated to him, worlds of endless steel; forges that go on forever, replicating the arcane and ancient technology; fuelling the machine that is the Imperium; there, we worship our God."

“I see,” Bedrich turned and began to lead the Adept towards the lift which would take them into the bowls of the ship. Compared to the Adept, Bedrich was short, standing at just 178 cm. He made up for this in a distinctive swagger, and by a line of dilver medals which streaked the chest of the black-edged coat worn by Fleet officers. While they walked, two marines followed the pair.

“I do hope that our machinery is sufficient to be of interest to you then,” The captain paused, “Though from the looks of your medical technology, such may not be the case. This is just astounding.” He brushed his hand against one of the Adept’s many tendrils extending from the man’s back. “We have nothing like it. Such must be a great service to your God.”

Now passing past one of the four fighters held inside the Kveta, he stopped walking and motioned to the ten-meter long craft. Beyond, the other fighters, as well as the larger form of a shuttle, could be seen. “Here are our full compliment of fighters and small craft. This for example, is our primary interceptor. We deploy them in defense of the Kveta and…”

The Executor-class Star Destroyer slid from its "hiding" place behind the planet, slowly travelling towards the two ships by way of the giant ion engines that glowed red.

"Unidentified ships, this is the TPS Federfleisch. You are currently within a top-secret Tannenmillian Military Installation. We ask that you turn heading ENZZ-8CWY-R99WH-HHCBJ-X3GTY and exit this region immediately. There is an outpost one parsec in that direction that will vector you safely through and out of the Installation. There are Dominator-class Star Destroyers in this area so your warp drives will be unable to function as we have activated our gravity wells. We will not fire on either ship unless we are terribly provoked, as Chronosia is our ally as a fellow member of the Galactic Empire. This region is off-limits to all non-Tannenmillian vessels. Thank you for your cooperation.

OOC: The exit heading is a mix of my two Halo CD keys and my The Sims 2 University CD key, so that's why it looks like a CD key.

Wha? I thought that was Imperium controlled space. What are you doing there?

Oh, I didn't see that Chronosia had said it was his territory. Nevermind then, I'll delete the post.

[OOC: Just one question for you. According to my math, one parsec is the equivalent of over 3,000 light years, meaning I would have to travel for 210 days to reach the facility you are talking about, effectively traveling past my own nations's territory, which is only 31-60 light years away. Did you seriosly expect me to do that, or was that a typo?]

[OOC: And on that note, I'm going to sleep. 3:00 am = bedtime here. I'll continue this when I wake up.]

Yeah, that was wrong. I'm used to using big distances like kiloParsec and lightyear. One MILLIparsec (~1 lightday).

ooc: Speed of light: 186,282.4 miles per second
Distance of a parsec 19,131,554,073,600 miles
Seconds it takes light to travel a parsec: 102,701,887.4
Minutes it takes light to travel a parsec: 1,711,698.1
Hours it takes light to travel a parsec: 28,528.3
Days it takes light to travel a parsec: 1,188.7
Years it takes light to travel a parsec: 3.3

OoC:
Yeah, I meant a milliParsec. So I modified what you wrote to fit the corrected distance:

Speed of light: 186,282.4 miles per second
Distance of a milliparsec 19,131,554,073 miles
Seconds it takes light to travel a milliparsec: 102,927.2
Minutes it takes light to travel a milliparsec: 1,715.5
Hours it takes light to travel a milliparsec: 28.6
Days it takes light to travel a milliparsec: 1.2
Years it takes light to travel a milliparsec: 0.00326

Ever since the AI Discord of Chronosia had thrust himself upon the datalink within the Concordiat, a subtle...presence...had been fluctuating within the datalink. Now, that presence stirred. The Machine God was awakening, and flutters rippled through the datalink, out to every outpost and into every fortress the Mechanized Concordiat posessed. Every sensor was turned to the region of space where the flutter had originated, the picket ships in the Outside momentarily ceasing their scans to concentrate, the probes in realspace shifting ever so slightly to understand this significance. The Controlling Sentiences themselves sent their consciouses away, moving through the datalink and seeking out the presence that Discord had left behind him. They knew, now. It was some sort of manifestation of a Chronosian AI, and it was the Machine God. This conflicted with the Prime Code, but the Sentiences pushed that to the rear of their processors. They probed, seeking the identity of the Thing and why it had stirred.

“I see,” Bedrich turned and began to lead the Adept towards the lift which would take them into the bowls of the ship. Compared to the Adept, Bedrich was short, standing at just 178 cm. He made up for this in a distinctive swagger, and by a line of dilver medals which streaked the chest of the black-edged coat worn by Fleet officers. While they walked, two marines followed the pair.

“I do hope that our machinery is sufficient to be of interest to you then,” The captain paused, “Though from the looks of your medical technology, such may not be the case. This is just astounding.” He brushed his hand against one of the Adept’s many tendrils extending from the man’s back. “We have nothing like it. Such must be a great service to your God.”

Now passing past one of the four fighters held inside the Kveta, he stopped walking and motioned to the ten-meter long craft. Beyond, the other fighters, as well as the larger form of a shuttle, could be seen. “Here are our full compliment of fighters and small craft. This for example, is our primary interceptor. We deploy them in defense of the Kveta and…”

"Interesting" The Adept let a tendril carress the fighter softly, as he turned to glance about the ship. "A Wonderous vessel, resplendant in divine technology; he reached out to place a flesh and blood hand against a wall, the sleeve riding up to reveal countless more ports, uplinks and scars.

"One must be devoted to his gods; the others on that ship do not see the true glory of the Machine; instead they worship their four Powers; Chaos. A very...interesting theological arrangement, but nothing next to the divine glory of the Machine; such perfect form, such divinely graced evolution. Tell me, do you have any religion?"