NationStates Jolt Archive

A pounding headach tormented the young Emperor, and sitting in a ship instead of the palace made things worse. The hum of the engines sounded like explosions in his ears, and his head felt as if it would explode any minute. Thankfully the trip was short enough.

The Eternal Life slid out of hyperspace and into the surrounding area of Chronosia Prime. The massive amounts of enemy ships in the area would have frightened the crew under normal conditions, but this was no ordinary condition.

Marcus de Draken...

Kellerman managed to say, ignoring his head,

Hear me, I have come to discuss the conflict of our nations with you in person. You have two choices, destroy me here and now, or admit me. Otherwise, I will sit here for eternity.

Flicking the switch, he waited for the reply.

ooc: Not before I get a shot off!

Kellerman...

Marcus closed his eyes, chuckling softly to himself as he reclined in his great throne; the vast throne of the Imperium. He looked skyward; as echoing voices filled his Throne Room; the High Lords were in discussion, words filtering down, "audicious", "Brazen" and "Foolhardy" were amongst them.
Marcus found it pleasing that the young Emperor should be so willing to stroll into the Lion's den. He had now, a Leader of the Republic, come to beg mercy. And he saw the perfect opportunities that lay ahead, through a thousand myriad futures.

"Kellerman; you are welcomed to Chronosia Prime; you shall be met by armed escort at the docks and brought before me. I will permit no Guards to enter my presence; lest this be some trick meant to assassinate me. If I am understood; then come forth. Come forth, son of Taledonia, and be judged."

"Leave me" His voice boomed; causing the High Lords to turn, shocked; all but one, the smirking, flawless form of Remiel; who merely bowed; turning to the door; as the other High Lords moved to follow. Only the Fabricator General remained, vox crackling as though he were about to speak; only to be brtually cut short by Marcus.

"LEAVE ME!" He snarled, warp energy crackling about his dark form, as he rose; dwarving the Fabrictor; who hurriedly moved to leave.

The ship moved to the docks, as it was told. The armed escort was seen outside, and when the Emperor made his way to the main doors, he dismissed the massive amount of guards that had assembled. Suprised, they looked at each other briefly, but then did as they were told.

The main doors opened, the massive steel platforms extending down to the ground, and Alexander walked down them towards the escorts. The ancient golden armor gleeming in the fires of the planet, the sword of Taledon hanging at his side. The red cape flowing majestically behind him; and his head held high in dignity.

Well?

He spoke down to the guards that awaited him.

Are we going or having a tea party, gentlemen?

They led him forward, into the vast throneroom of Marcus De Drakan; the great doors slamming shut, light dimming save the daemoniacal flame that danced and hissed in immense braziers. A shadow seemed to occupy the throne; and other shadows moved. Assassins appeared in the upper tiers; weapons trained on Kellerman, while Space Marines slunk from the shadows; taking aim; all weapons trained upon him.

"Do you know, the most frustrating thing in this universe? To know everything; to glimpse the strands of probability; but to never be entirely sure. I thought you might come here; but never did I think you would flee your duty, hide from me where my hand cannot reach you." He rose, chuckling softly. "You dissapoint me"

"The Battle for Kosse is over, true enough; and you are in hiding. But the rest of the Republic is forfeit. I do not bring your doom through malice, or hatred; simply to settle the score of a flawed war. And now; as your Republic is torn three; perhaps even four ways, I offer you the choice. Kosse shall be soverign territory of the Imperium; the Republic shall become vassal states of the victors; divided amongst them. If not, then I and my allies shall lead our fleets forth until every world is burned clean or enslaved." A vast holographic map appeared, notably missing the Taledonian territories; yet Kosse blazed like a fireball upon the map; surrounded by pinpricks of light which represented fleets.

"Is this acceptable?"

Looking around the room at all the men, Alexander fixed on Marcus.

You think too highly of yourself, Daemon Emperor. The Republic is in no danger, as we are prepared to move the rest of our territories into hiding as well. But do not think us cowards, this is merely temporary as my nation is...indisposed at the moment and cannot help. I don't mean to brag, but I play a large part in the defense of the Republic.

Walking closer to the shadow, just enough so he could see the mans face, simply ignoring everyone else in the room.

You have merely caught us at a vulnerable time, what with the end of the War of Libration and the recent war with the Fist. But the Republic will live on, no matter what you throw at us. Face it, you can't win. Even if you destroy us, there will be somebody to pick up the pieces, and then you have a new enemy. Leaders appear in our ranks like mushrooms do in forests, and even you can't afford to send fleet after fleet everytime a new one comes along.

Marcus chuckled softly. "Ah, but once weakened, you can be contained; tamed; used and broken. I will not stand idly by as my plans unfold to your advantage. Oh no, Kellerman. I have waited years for this one moment; when the glories of Chaos bring then Republic to its knees. All arranged; egos stoked, bargains engineered, all to bring the Republic crashing down in flames; and each participant an unwitting pawn in a grand sacrifice. Kosse shall be but the beginning; an altar of faithful and faithless, and when the moment is right, my Gods shall reward me my devotion" He chuckles, a sickening crooning laughter.

"The Gods hunger; and they shall feast, Kellerman. The wheels of destiny spin unhindered; and you may hide; but I shall find your kind eventually. I offer you one last chance. Yield to me; or face the wrath of Chaos."

Still trying to tame the beast, Marcus. I would have thought somebody of your position would not obsess about our small alliance, but rather the other, larger ones that would actually bring you glory. Take us out, nobody will notice, and your victory is less sweet.

Continuing to advance to become ever closer to his "uncle".

Your offer is totally rejected, oh great Emperor. Instead, I offer YOU something. I propose we do this the old fashioned way, a true test of warriors. I challenge you to a duel, on Taledon, in three days. You and you alone will be permitted into the new realm for the duel. One on one, me against you, the winner shall bask in the glory of victory, the loser shall have his life spared, so that he may watch his people be put to the sword. What do you say? Oh great, powerful and fearless Marcus de Draken?

Marcus bellowed in laughter. "I showed your blood kin mercy once before; and look what it has brought me. The Republic shall fall; and my glory shall be one of many. All the galaxy shall burn in the fires of war and the Warp. I have seen it; I have engineered these conflicts to be but the beginning." He shook his head slightly. "No; I shall not fight you. I shall not waste my time with cowards who cower and hide, and rot in their holes. You shall die like the coward you truly are."

Thus did Marcus De Drakan draw forth a great plasma pistol; and open fire; as every soldier posted about the room followed suit; and opened fire at the Taledonian Emperor.

"May your soul be purified by the Warp; and Chaos take you...As it shall your whole misbegotten race"

The blue bubble glowed as the enemy opened fire, but Kellerman simply stood there and looked around.

Oh we are the cowards? You are not as wise as I once thought. Who is the more cowardly? The one who protects his people and goes to the front himself? Or the one who sends his people to the front to die and sits in the protection of all these guards when one simple man comes to meet him?

But you have stated your opinion, so I shall take my leave. Be wary, Chronosian, your time will come, much sooner than you think...

Doing a slight bow to mock the Daemon, Alexander turned and started trotting out of the room, his energy shielding still glowing and humming around him as he walked towards the door.

Marcus smirked; as the great defence systems engaged without; the docks whirring to life as defence turrets opened with massed and coordinated fire against the ship which the Emperor had come in; and the great doors refused to open.

"I suggest you mind your tongue; Emperor" Marcus chuckled, raising his pistol again; as the onslaught began once more. "It will be the death of you." Every gun fired; for they knew that while this one had a shield; it would not last forever...

ooc: Thank you, Tal, for standing up for us.

Ic: Kazecistan had learned of this voyage and sent repeated messages to the Taledonian ship. Most were similar to this one. Kazecistan refuses any and all 'offers' and 'deals' that Chronosia has to offer. Nothing short of total freedom and immediate withdraw from Republic space will surface.

The ship was destroyed, as was intended, because it served only a small part in the operation. The tiny droid that hovered in the room, projecting both the image of the Emperor and the shielding, stopped moving. The image of Alexander turned.

Oh poor Chronosian, so powerful, yet so blind that he cannot even see what transpires around him. Your right, I wont get out of here alive, but I am not who you think.

The hologram, still seemingly real to the people who fired upon it, started walking again towards the Daemon Emperor, insulting him as he advanced. Finally, once at the foot of the throne, the hologram smiled.

You should have accepted my deal, blood brother, now you shall pay with humiliation.

With that, the shielding dropped and the hologram faded, the small metal orb that was the robot dropped to the ground, and the high powered energy explosive went off.

Marcus bellowed in fury and pure unbridled rage; the explosion deflected mostly by his armor; but wounding his warp spawned form; killing the countless marines about the room; shattering the ornate marble pillars, which seemed to weep blood; and shattering the ornate stained glass. The throne, rimmed in explosions; dented and cracked, aflame; stood as a testament to enduring power. And Marcus De Drakan let the warp flow through him; a terrible flame oozing from his many wounds.

His foe had fled; played dirty and turned coward; but they would have to return one day. And upon that day, he would condemn every Taledonian soul to the pleasures of She Who Thirsts.

They not not only wounded his palace; his homeworld; and his physical being. They had wounded the great Warlords pride. And that was perhaps the greatest mistake the cunning and tricksome Taledonian could make...

(OOC: Ahahaha, I look forward to the future, good RP this turned out to be. Anyways, until later Chron.)