NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: Well, here's my RP to help flesh out both my nation's history, the history of my 'evil dudes that control my nation with evilness and evility', and a good bit of evil fun for all involved! Essentially, anyone can join, from anywhere, and the Order will accept it. If you want to RP finding out the sick and perverse practices that go on, feel free! Of course, escaping may be a little difficult, but still fun! This RP is basically one of those to help flesh out my nation's history,so no 'uber-chars', like Daemon Emperors, or Ascendeds. I'm happy to have people with their own special little powers, or maybe their own frigate, but nothing stupid, or extravagant, eh?

"...may be unbound."

The acolyte, Lysae, had finished her devotions to the Scythe-Lords. A small cult followed these mysterious extraplanar beings, and the powers their followers were granted were insignificant, to those such as Chaos, or those of the Eternals, or Ascendants. However, their careful manipulation of the minds of many had made the cult popular, but few were accepted into the ranks of the acolytes.

The cult extolled fighting, and each and every one of its members were superb in combat, marksmen all, and had some small control over the Source. The acolytes were taught that the Scythe-Lords were dying gods, and only their prayers and devotions could revive them, and restore the universe.

However, one woman knew the truth. Scyllia, the Rock. She was a Scythe-Lord, and the High Priestess of the Order. It amused her to see these lesser beings scurry about their business, serving her and her... companions, when all they sought was their utter and complete destruction.

She was a woman not known for her gentle temper, and, indeed, she had recently killed an offensive acolyte. Many rumours flooded the Order about this, but there was only one reason for this, and it was a reason that had lasted for hundreds of thousands of years.

In their own universe, the Scythe-Lords were the ultimate power. With a single thought, they could consume stars, with an angry glare, they wiped civilizations from the face of the galaxy. However, Scyllia mediated, it was inevitable that they would destroy that universe, in time. Every last remnant of life was wiped from it, and their power had begun to writhe in chaotic hatred, as each Scythe-Lord had sought dominance. Indeed, this could not continue. Alone, and under an assault from Kyton, she ripped the very fabric of reality, destroying almost a thousand galaxies by doing so, a loss she found negligible.

Just as her power was fading, and Kyton was about to destroy her, she noticed the tiny tear she had made. In the battle, it had grown to momentous proportions, and, through it, she could feel new life. Life for her to consume, life for her to subsume, life that would be hers. Hurriedly she leapt through the portal, and began draining the nearby worlds of life. The tiny bacteria and small creatures did not even begin to sate her hunger, and thousands of fledgling civilizations fell to regain some of her power.

Suddenly, after a number of years, she felt power ripping through the fabric of this universe. The other eleven Scythe-Lords had arrived, and thousands more worlds fell beneath their untiring assault.

Life was good. All was theirs, and none could oppose them. Until... One they hated, one that opposed Sharroth, appeared. The damnable Enemy. It was the only name they could give to it, and it resisted their inexorable pull on its strand of life. She ignored it. It resisted Sharroth, and Sharroth resisted her attempt to subsume his power. She smiled, and had began taking Sharroth's power...


-----------------------------------

[i]Kirtir IV, untold millions upon millons of years ago[/i

"Well, Sarge, it seems those bastards are back. Killin' everythin', and we can't do nothin' to stop 'em. We better git in them spacyesheeps, and toddle over to Yonlok to warn 'em, eh?"

The sergeant looked up, his face filled with what might've been horror, and what might've been fear. "No, Bill. We gotta stay here, and face the bastards. Th' women and children have gotta get outta here, otherwise there won't be anyone who could escape."

He sighed. These strange, unknown beings simply toyed with them, creations of the very stuff of nightmare destroying the entire Allied Army, and ripping apart their proud fleets of ships, all within the timespan of a few hours. Now, nightmares wandered the plains and forests, and nowhere was safe. Hell, the Republic had nowhere left to run, but they had to run. Otherwise, they would all die...

"Shit! Here they come again!'

The sergeant pulled out his plasma rifle, and let a quick burst, comprised of three rounds, into the charging, possible fifty-foot tall beast. Sometimes they died, but most of the time they just kept on coming. Kirrilia was the last city left free, and every man, woman and child had weapons with which to fight this mysterious threat.

This time, the beast didn't even flinch. The flesh which had been burnt away simply reformed, and a dark liquid was hurled towards the sergeant, who didn't duck fast enough. His face was abruptly turned into a mass of 'dark fire', or a kind of flame that actually took away light, well, at least it covered up the montrosities it inflicted.

The man who had been talking to the sergeant felt his teeth rip through his tongue, but that was nothing to the fear he felt. He fired again, again, again, and again. He just simply kept his finger on the trigger, as the swarm of monsters reached the barricade...

------------------------------

Meanwhile, somewhere which was not entirely reality, the Scythe-Lords were enjoying the show. Death, fear, and hatred, all means of generating more of that precious power. They drank deeply, as such as a race as this one had not been found for over a million years, and the sheer intensity of emotions they generated gave them equally intensified powers.

Their faces were locked in a rictus of pleasure, and each and every one of them had taken physical form, simply to experience this. However, during the show, the Enemy decided to show his face...

----------------------------

Those foul creatures were laughing! Damn them! He was power, and they would pay for abusing those with less than them. No, no, that was not the way. Each and every creature had a right to live, and obliterating them now would serve no purpose. However, instead... yes. They were occupied, and he could literally feel the huge flows of power going into them. Now would be an ideal time to strike, and not risk annihilation. The other six of his kind who had battled again these strange creatures had all been soundly defeated, and he was the last. Even now, he was dying. But perhaps, just perhaps, he could pay for his sins, and seal this evil, keep it from even destroying and raping worlds again....

A light flared, in the utter darkness. This light, although weak, slowly made its way around the darkness, and flickered once, and then shone, shone with the brightness of its purpose, and sealed the darkness into the space it had chosen to inhabit, for the sole purpose of consuming joy, life, and light.

The light flared again, and this time, a scream of rage, hate, and pain could be heard. A scream born of what was to become billions of years of imprisonment....

-------------

Present Day, the Tower of the Ordeal

The Tower of the Ordeal was a strange place, where Acolytes were tested in order to become priests. It was an imposing structure, rising up nearly a kilometre from the mountain top upon which it sat, and was not a beautiful structure, a strange, black carving etched in a spiral up the side, and many carvings of pain, death, and suffering likewise carved upon it. However, this was an... interesting day, for the new priests. For today, for the first time, the Order was taking acolytes from other nations. Well, that was the official story. The reality was that they needed foreigners to be tested for receptability with the Scythe-Lords, to see what other nations were suitable to serve them....


OOC: Well, I'm posting this... again.

OOC: Essentially, anyone can join, from anywhere, and the Order will accept it. If you want to RP finding out the sick and perverse practices that go on, feel free! Of course, escaping may be a little difficult, but still fun! This RP is basically one of those to help flesh out my nation's history,so no 'uber-chars', like Daemon Emperors, or Ascendeds. I'm happy to have people with their own special little powers, or maybe their own frigate, but nothing stupid, or extravagant, eh?

OOC: Oh don't worry, my Daemon Emperor isn't all that powerful; that and he rarely ventures out unless its nessecary; prefering to rule the Imperium from Chronosia Prime. I could always send a Primarch; they have their 'special little powers'

Hope that Daemon Emperor thing wasn't a thinly veiled jab at me; or I will kill you! kidding ;)
Oh, and tag :P

OOC: I doubt a Primarch would feel the need to investigate some little cult. Unless, of course, they realised the huge threat the Scythe-Lords posed to Chaos. Killing everything means there's no Chaos...

Official Message from the Order
Subject: Recruitment
Classification: None


Greetings, denizens of your respective nations. Life been treating you badly? Hatred for idiots filling up your life? Well, don't worry! The Order of the Scythe-Lords is recruiting, for the first time ever, new members outside the borders of the League! We are a voice of reason, and, indeed, the psychokinetic powers often gifted to our members enforce this voice, up to the point of ruling whole worlds! If you are tired of little men, little idiots ruling your life with decisions that force you to actions you loathe, then join the Order, and help us restore a semblance of reason to the universe!

- The Order funds all trips taken to reach it's headquarters!
- Individual rooms for even the most lowly of acolytes!
- Experienced teams of servants to cater to your every need
- Tuition in the use of your powers granted by the Scythe-Lords, which all have!

- Message End.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The Primarch smiled. This message would be dismissed by most as simple advertising, but, in reality, it would probably draw enough specimens to them for study. He sincerely hoped they would get enough; otherwise, 'Phase Designated' would have to begin, and he was a gentle man...

OOC: Sounds interesting. I'll think about joining.

OOC: Sounds interesting. I'll think about joining.

OOC: Indeed you should. I need more joining people! Cmon, who doesn't want to be experimented on by evil and dark, destructive powers?

OOC: Indeed you should. I need more joining people! Cmon, who doesn't want to be experimented on by evil and dark, destructive powers?

OOC: Not me. But if I do join, it will probably with a character from one of my other nations. I have a certain race in this nation that have mental abilities, but I don't want to reveal them just yet.

OOC: Not me. But if I do join, it will probably with a character from one of my other nations. I have a certain race in this nation that have mental abilities, but I don't want to reveal them just yet.
OOC: Bah. Ah well. As long as you join, alright! *chases those who will not join with a hideously oversized, unloaded gun*. Enough.

Well, here's a little description(Read: filler), so you can figure out exactly how to get to this planet, and all.

IC: The planet Beryllia hung like an orb in the heavens, the blue-green surface dotted with the occasional city, yet, by most accounts, it was a paradise. It was a recent colony, and was virtually controlled by the Order, who had.. 'removed' governors who had opposed their ideals.

It was a border planet, and a frigate on patrol only came out every three days, but it didn't matter. The local militia were well-trained, and the Order maintained its own offensive fleet, of four frigates and six gunships, almost twice the legal limit for any organisation its size, however, they did an excellent job at deterring pirates, and so were left alone. Of course, the pirates didn't agree, generally being selected as sacrifices...

The system was nondescript, the colonists deeply in debt, as they paid for nescessities such as colodomes, computer components, and industrial gear, but it was well on its way to becoming a successful agricultural/holiday world.

The Order, however, did not agree. This world was to become the first World of the Order, and, from here, they would rule the universe. Of course, this depended entirely on breaking the Scythe-Lords out of their imprisonment, something the Primarchs relished.

Datti stood at a console, having just joined the Order. She quickly called some information on the ranking, and stared at it, in deep interest...

[Ranking System]
[Basic Ranking]
[Acolyte. Rank gained on passing the Ritual of Truth]
[Initiate of the Flame. Rank gained on passing the Ritual of Fire]
[Initiate of Eternal Night. Rank gained of passing the Trial of Darkness]
[SPLIT PATH -]
[Choice 1 - Apprentice Scythe-Wielder. Rank gained on passing the Combat Trials.]
[Choice 2 - Initiate of the Circles of Blood. Rank gained on performing the Ceremony of Life of Blood]
[Path 1 Promotion - Scythe-Wielder. Rank gained on constructing a functional Power Scythe]
[Path 2 Promotion - Priest of the Scythe. Rank gained on passing the Trials of Seven.]
[Path 1 End - Scythe of Souls. Rank gained on passing the Trial of Lords, and constructing a fully functional Scythe of the Souls.]
[Path 2 Promotion (All promotions from now are Path 2 Promotions) - Blade Priest. Trial unavailable to your current level.]
[Blade Hierarch - Trial information classified]
[Blade Primarch - Information classified]
[SPLIT PATH -]
[Choice 1 - Disciple of the Scythe - Information classified, however, this is one of the highest ranks available in the Order.]
[Choice 2 - Blade Disciple. Information classified. Rank combat-orientated.]
[Choice 1 Promotion - High Priest of the Scythe. Second-highest rank. Sits in session of the Council of the Scythe.]
[Choice 2 Promotion END - Ghost Blade. Singular title, the person in possession of this is not part of the Scythe Council, and this is the highest rank anyone not with incredible power can possess. Combat-orientated.]
[Choice 1 Promotion END - Grand Scythe - Rules over the Scythe Council, and is the ultimate ruler of the Order.]

Datti sighed. She had already joined the Order, and it seemed that gaining power would be nigh-impossible...

{ooc: why not, I'll break this race out again.}
Ishskekk stoot upon the world's surface, it seemed the order was now taking apprentices from outside their race, they had been a thorn in the empire's side for some time. if these weak beings can prove so annoying, their power would likely make a Skeksis like him nearly invincible.
It had cost him the lives of thirty slaves to learn of the order's existance, and to reach their world, no matter, slaves could be replaced. when he had gained the order's power, no one would dare stand in his way. it would be easy enough to dispose of the emporer when the time came.
{ooc: If you havn't seen "the dark crystal" skekses look sort of like large, featherless vultures, with arms instead of wings.}

{ooc: why not, I'll break this race out again.}
Ishskekk stoot upon the world's surface, it seemed the order was now taking apprentices from outside their race, they had been a thorn in the empire's side for some time. if these weak beings can prove so annoying, their power would likely make a Skeksis like him nearly invincible.
It had cost him the lives of thirty slaves to learn of the order's existance, and to reach their world, no matter, slaves could be replaced. when he had gained the order's power, no one would dare stand in his way. it would be easy enough to dispose of the emporer when the time came.
{ooc: If you havn't seen "the dark crystal" skekses look sort of like large, featherless vultures, with arms instead of wings.}

OOC: Okkkkaayy... Yeah, I've read the novellization of it, but I don't really get the rest of it. The Order is relatively new (30-odd years), and I don't see how they'd been a thorn in the empire's side......

OOC: I might as well start posting IC now.

IC: Interstellar Space

A small ship, the I.S.S. Predation[/], drifted through the void. This particular ship is fifty years old. The ship was powered down to conserve energy.

The ship's computer picked up the transmission and began to restore main power.

[i]I.S.S. Predation - Cargo Area

A frosted pod was set in the middle of the room. As the ship finished powering up, a hissing sound started and the pod slid open releasing a cloud of billowing steam. The occupant uncrossed his arms and slowly sat up. He blinked and shook his head to clear it. He looked over at a nearby chronometer.

"Damn, I've been in cryo for fourty-five years."

At the base of the tube was a plaque.

Name: Jack Orin Ja'Erin
Gender: Male
Species: Alteran
Age: 35-years-old
Expected Life Span: 500-years
Last Known Psy Rating: P6
Last Known I.Q. Rating: Class 6 (160-190)
Last Known Strength Rating: Class 6 (100-140 kilograms)
Profession: Freelance

OOC: Okkkkaayy... Yeah, I've read the novellization of it, but I don't really get the rest of it. The Order is relatively new (30-odd years), and I don't see how they'd been a thorn in the empire's side......

{As I play them, Jen failed to reach the crytal in time, so the skekses are complete beings, and not as strongly bound to it as in the movie.
to explain that statement: the current emperor can't stand the fact that anyone else but him has mind control powers. so, he surpresses knowledge of the order's existance, and tries to think of a way to get rid of them.
Ishskekk learned of the order, and decided that they would make a good stepping stone in his rise to power.}

OOC: Ah, sure. The Order accepts anyone, of any race, but mainly to study them, to see if they are vulnerable to the flows of the Scythe-Lords power.

It's still open! If you don't join.... uhh..... beetles will turn into cheese!

The Planet Ankrian was seldom disturbed anymore by Outsiders. Hazanko had made sure of that when he had first came to the planet over 60 years before; when he had destroyed the people on the planet, and made those who survived serve him.

He had since meditated and trained for years in the ancient form of power that some considered 'magic' or 'tricks of light.' There were none alive now that said that however.

Sitting with his eyes closed and conctrating on the metal ball six meters in front of him Hazanko sensed one of his servants coming closer. He opened his eyes and turned to see a kneeling person, the head touching the ground, several meters away.

"What is it?" Hazanko asked. He rarely was ever disturbed by his servants when he meditated, and those who had had payed for it.

"You ordered that any and all transmissions made by Outsiders were to be reported to you master; we have just recieved one," the man said in a shaky voice. Hazanko's eyes narrowed.

"Very well, you will bring the message to me," Hazanko said. He turned away from the servant and closed his eyes. The kneeling man bowed three times then left.

Several minutes later the servant returned carrying a data slate. He brought it before Hazanko and set it down a meter away then bowed three times and scooted back several meters.

Hazanko picked it up and read the message. A rare smiled cracked at the corner of his mouth. "A challenge." He turned to the servant.

"Ready my spaceship within the day, and have my dinner brought early," he commanded.

"Yes master," answered the servant.

OOC: Until people arrive in orbit, or something like that, that I can respond to, I'm just going to post computer information on the Order.

IC: Merelcar stood at a computer console, like so many others. They had been granted two 'orientation' days, to discover what they could about the Order, and its methods, 'powers', and many more. Mere, as his friends called him, was not adept with a computer, nor a fast reading. However, as the text scrolled down the screen, his eyes flickered frantically to keep up.

[Order Powers.]
[The Order has a set of powers granted by the glorious Scythe-Lords, the higher the compatability in the sentient; the more powers that can be granted.]
[There are three subsets of powers, each one requiring slightly different mindsets and configurations of the mind, not to mention DNA patterns.]
[Power Subset 1 - Manipulation]
[The first power subset is the most efficient of the Order, and can be used to calm a raging madman, or enrage a calm diplomat. Although only a trickle of power is used to achieve this emotional, and, in the cases of the incredibly power users, mental manipulation, it is quick, easy to use, and effective. The Order uses this subset of powers for many means]
[Power Subset 2 - Ravaging]
[Ravaging is the art of 'un-creation', or elimination. This power is the most common, the most powerful, and the easiest to use, but is rather dangerous. Although, when unleashed, the many Ravager powers are hard to use, and difficult to control, no existing energy or matter has been found to stop it, and almost 50% of all training maimings and woundings are caused by this subset. Those with both the gift for Ravaging and Manipulation can easily manipulate living, and, in rare cases, dead matter, bending both mind and body to their will.]
[Power Subset 3 - Fire of the Forging]
[A rather cryptic name, this subset creates matter, or something termed 'unmatter', much the same as matter, although generally lighter, tougher, and far, far more unstable. This gift is exceptionally rare, and people who can Forge the Fire are prized, as they may forge the Scythe of the Souls, and generally have an abundance, or no talent at all, for the other two gifts.
One with both Fire of the Forging, and Manipulation, can create a weapon that actually resonates in people's minds, making them more aggressive, braver, more cowardly, etcetera. People with mastery of all three subsets of power can forge the most frightening weapon of all, a Scythe. It is termed simply, but is deadly in implementation. It constantly emits the powers of Ravaging and Manipulation, affecting both mind and body, often disabling enemies with violent shakes, and quickly-growing cancers, even with a weak Forger. The most power Scythe, the Shadow Scythe, is pure anathema to anyone touching it, and is deadly within ten seconds. The forger, Mairuin Amiris, died within thirty minutes of close proximity, and he was the most powerful wielder of the Scythe to date]

It would have been difficult to design a recruitment ad better designed to appeal to the VerDa-Khar. The tribe respected only strength and power, and had no sympathy at all for fools. Life in Kharrol was hard, especially for those at the lower end of society. Lor Kedrak and Nuren Grell were far from the bottom of the stack, but they were certainly low enough to risk a lot for the chance of power...

The two were not exactly friends, but they worked well together and trusted each other as much as they trusted anyone. Life in Kharrol doesn't tend to be very long without someone to watch your back.

It took less than ten minutes for them to decide the message was worth investigating, and less than half an hour to begin their journey. Soon, their little spacecraft was approaching Beryllia.

Scyllia watched in satisfaction, as the first ship approached. Recruits from outside the nation, at last! With one hand crackling with dark energy, adeptly shaped into a scythe, she gestured for Yavonii, a High Priest, to 'bring them in'.

With the use of amplifiers, a few more 'modern' psy-enhancers, and the glorious power of the Scythe-Lords, she would attain control of their ship; and land it, safely.

A tiny string of black fire attached itself to the ship, and began to drag it in, if all went well, within several minutes, the ship would be safely on one of the heavily shielded Order landing pads...

OCC:

This seems like an interesting rp. I would like perhaps for a starship from Ersatia's history, say a sublight "Relativity" class ship, to be unfourtunate enough to encounter your cult on one of its deep-space missions.

We can say that the unlucky ship makes contact, figures out what is happening but can't escape. They might send out a signal home but it will take 37,000 years to get back and they become victims of your cult? In any case, no one ever finds out what happened to them because many thousands of years passed in Ersatia since it left on its mission and the ship is unaccounted for.

Tell me what you think.

"Well... this is unusual." Nuren remarked.

"It seems the ad wasn't lying about 'powers'." Lor added.

"Doesn't mean it was honest, though."

"Indeed. Perhaps this is just an unusual landing method, but if not..."

"We'd best be ready to go out with a bang."

Like any Kharrolic vessel, this one was designed to give unfriendly visitors an exciting experience. Hidden compartments on each side of the door allowed the preparation of an almost undectable ambush, and viewing screens allowed those waiting in them to see who was approaching.

Now, Lor took up position in the right chamber with a pair of handguns while Nuren waited in the left one with another gun and a long-bladed knife. Hopefully they wouldn't need the weapons now, but they were ready to use them if they did.

OOC: Descriptions:
Both are athletically built, with long hair tied back, and odd symbols tattooed on their arms and face. They wear soft shoes, tied in such a way that the laces don't flap noisily, loose fitting pants, cloth belts, buttonless shirts, and coats that go down to a bit above their knees, all in shades of gray, green, and brown. This is typical of the VerDa-Khar.

Lor is about 6'6", with brown hair and gray eyes. He carries a long, slightly recurved knife (www.atlantacutlery.com/imagelib/0400870_L_000.jpg), a shorter dagger, and a narrow, single edged sword.
Nuren is around 6'3", but a bit more heavily muscled. He has black hair and green eyes. He is similarly armed, except with a larger, slightly curved sword.

IC: Jack Orin Ja'Erin finished climbing out of the tube. He walked around it a few times to get the kinks out of his legs. He then headed into the foward compart of the ship. He saw the stored message light blinking. Jack sat down in the pilot's seat and hit the switch. He read the message that came up on the heads-up display that was built into the cockpit window.

"Ahh," he says with an evil grin, "Something new since the last time I was awake. Time to let the outside world know that after 500 years, Jack Orin Ja'Erin is back."

Using the antiquated computer of the shuttle, he checks to see how far the ship is from the source of the transmission.

"Good," he cackles, "only a light-year away."

He checks the fuel level and calculates the trajectory. The ship only has enough fuel for a single jump, then, unless it gets refuelled, it will no longer be able to do any more F.T.L. Jumps. When he realizes this, Jack frowns with disapointment.

"Oh, well," he groans, "I'll just have to get some fuel when I land."

He locks the Jump Harness into position around himself and flips the switch that brings the small crafts F.T.L. drive on-line. A rainbow Hyperspace Window opens up in front of the Hestrel class shuttle. The little ship streaked into the Window, which closed behind it, only to emerge a few minutes later from a similar window in orbit above the planet where the message was transmitted from.

Jack unlocks his harness and pilots the brown and silver striped shuttle into the atmosphere. He had spotted another ship descending and he was following just behind it.

OOC: After so much time alone, Jack Orin Ja'Erin (http://img.ragnarokonline.com/download/wallpaper/wallpaper_82_1280.jpg) is not as sane as he used to be.

OOC: Please, the posts are good, but just one link to the guy. I want to be able to click on it, look at it, and not have to worry about it for the rest of the post.

IC: The craft calmly glided into one of the many hangars, and stopped. The blue shields above, below, and to the sides obscured all vision, until a woman, nearly blinding in her loveliness, with long, raven-black hair, and warm brown eyes, although with a somewhat arrogant manner, gestures.

The door flies open.

Scyllia was annoyed. These damned children would obviously require a display of power, and so she must give it to them.

A chiming voice, like that of the sweet sound of bells, echoed, it was far too fair to be of any mere human speech, into the eardrums of the two travellers.

"Greetings, children. You have come to receive instruction into the ways of the Scythe-Lords. Indeed, you will learn. (Anyone listening hear would've heard the tiniest hesitant inflection on the word 'learn', if they had been able to overcome the glamour of the voice)

She drew breath, her body remaining as stately, and her form as shapely, as she turned around. "Come, come. There is much you do not know."



She gestured to a small building. She speaks, however, the glamour is gone. It is still a nice voice, an attractive voice, but has no open promise of seductive power and desires fulfilled. "This will be your home for the duration of your training. You may leave at any time you wish. In here, there are two rooms, suitable for acolytes, you have your own bed, computer console, bathroom, and a shared kitchen. In case of a pirate raid, which occurs not infrequently, the shield generator under the building will activate, and these units are self-sufficient for almost four months."

Again, she stops to draw breath. In truth, she is a little excited, although not letting it show. Come on, come on! Imagine, imagine if one knew of the Key of Power! (OOC: The Key of Power will be revealed later, can no-one refer to it, or make any allusions to it, until I OOCly explain what it is.)

"You may access information from each console, and all acolyte-cleared information will be instantly available to you. We also have a number of reflex and strategy games, so that you may practice your skills, in case the Order has need of them against the raiders. "

Another breath, deeper this time. Her facade is still impeccable, although the storms of power raging around her 'true-self' are most certainly not. Indeed, a black hole was consumed, something she had not done in many millenia.

"The classes are all compulsory, although you may choose one of two paths within the Order. Scythe-Wielders are the combat-orientated members of the Order, and are those with strength of body and will, though little of what we term 'talent'. Priests of the Scythe are those who have 'talent', and strength of will. I warn you now, if you lack strength of will, you may die in the rituals. It is not unknown."

She claps her hands togethor, and two 'servants', or mechanical object propelled by a forcefield, speed fowards, and sit there, tamely awaiting luggage.

She smiled benignly, and leaves, letting the two, who are probably overwhelmed by now, make their way to the living quarters, or wherever they wish to go first.

*snip*

OOC: Of course. Naturally, they'd probably covertly capture them, and perform some rather nasty experiments on them, and we'd probably get some cool action when they try to escape.

OOC: I don't have time to reply to your post right now, Seaquest, although I will tomorrow. (56k makes for limited internet time)

However, I will post a basic map of the 'living units' that you will be residing in. The map is very rudimentary, but still, it should help. Most living units are like this, but with one bedroom, and a few have 3 or 4. Food dispenser and table is in the kitchen, bathrooms recycle waste, bedrooms contain computer units, beds, and an emergency food units, as well as a minor shield generator.

Doors automatically adjust to the user's DNA (detection systems partially in the air), and allow them to set conditions towards other users, and also adjust for emotions. All systems are turned off, however, at sunrise, so that all may go to their morning devotions.

http://tinypic.com/es4uis.jpg

That's the map of the living quarters you inhabit, although it looks a fair bit better than that.

OOC: I'd like to join. I'm pressed for time, so excuse me if I make any big mistakes. My plan for this post is thus: Small frigate receives message > Replies that they would like to be initiated into the program > Frigate lands on the planet > is met by a Scythe-Master(?) Tell me if this is an decent outline.

OCC: I hope this is okay.

The ESS Hecatate, an “Eternity”-Class Ultra Long Range Interstellar Star Frigate hung gently amongst a stunning star field. Like most objects in space the starship seemed serene, as if it was calm and tranquil amongst the immortal stars. However, its appearance belied a much more dangerous reality. Something had gone terribly wrong.

28 thousand years ago:
The ESS Hecatate had been dispatched on a mission to subdue a minor revolt on a mining colony in the HD872112 system. Located on a small rocky world around an O-Class Blue Giant, the world held some promise of one day being terraformed to support a major Ersatian colony. The outpost was very far from the Coreworlds, almost 22 light years, so by the time the Ersatian Coreworld had become aware of the revolt 22 years must have passed. At maximum velocity it would take the crew of the ESS Hecatate 11.8 months to arrive, though due to relativity 22.37 years would pass on HD872112 and Ersatia (where the Star Frigate had set out from).

The crew of the ESS Hecatate entered their cold sleep, being cryogenically frozen in order to avoid the almost year long travel it would take them to reach HD872112. The technology for placing people into suspended animation had advanced significantly since the early days of the gargantuan generation ships, and now it was deemed much safer to use by crews on starships. The starship ignited its powerful antiproton initiated microfission/fusion drive, accelerating to a high fraction of light speed and entered deep-space departing for HD87211.

Unfourtunately, failure struck. A random fault inside the ASPUS (Artificial Sentience, Processing Unitary System) guidance computer caused the starship to veer off course slightly as it encountered a catastrophic error and shut down. A journey that should have taken the crew 22.37 Ersatian years ended up taking a massive 28,028 years (though, due to relativity, only 1,253.14 years passed on the Star Frigate). The Ersatian Empire never discovered what happened to the starship. After 50 years without contact it was quietly catalogued as a loss, and the ESS Furious Star Destroyer was sent to finally subdue the uprising. When the "Infinity"-Class Star Destroyer finally arrived to exert the Coreworld’s dominance over HD872112, its rebellion had lasted almost one hundred years. It was ruthlessly crushed.

Present Day:

Gravity-well detected. Range: 1600 AU. Likely cause: Star. Danger: Possible. Response: Initiate emergency booting of A.S.P.U.S.

The Artificial Intelligence of the starship came on-line, the first time it had done so in over 12,000 years. Running several internal checks it determined that it had shut down due to a fault, and (after running several diagnostics to determine the exact failure) corrected the error. The ASPUS checked on the state of the crew. All life signs normal. The ASPUS confirmed its position based on the stars. Curious, something was wrong. It rechecked the starcharts and constellations, running several diagnostics on its programs and checking its atomic clocks to ensure there was no mistake. There wasn’t. Possition? A far corner of the galaxy. Time? Calculations indicated that 28,028.03 years must have passed on Ersatia. Distance from Ersatia? 28,000 light years.

The starship was off course. Immediately, internal alarms were initiated as ASPUS logged the developments. The cryo-storage containers were directed to begin automated reanimation of the Captain by the AI. ASPUS then studied the situation the starship was in. The ESS Hecatate had chanced upon a star, triggering ASPUS' emergency activation. Less then a second after ASPUS had been activated, it began to initiate retro-burn sequence and corrected course to apporach a nearby life-supporting planet. The ship slowly turned, ready to fire its main engines and decelerate from hig velocity. The ASPUS reviewed its vast reams of data on its starship.

“Eternity”-Class Star Frigate Stats
Classification: Extreme long-range deep-space light Star Frigate
Length: 310m
Tonnage: Classified
Shields: Deflector Shield
Armour: 270mm-630mm
Maximum Velocity: 99.9% of c
Maximum Acceleration: 20-g
Crew: 78
Propulsion: Antiproton initiated microfission/fusion drive
Armament:
2X 800MT matter-antimatter warhead missile launchers (powered by beamed-core matter-antimatter long range rockets)
8X 15MT thermonuclear warhead missile launchers
8X Heavy quad-35mm defence turrets (high velocity armour-piercing/explosive depleted uranium shell firing)
4X High yield KE-missile launchers
1X Neutral Beam Particle Weapon
Time Dilation Factor at Maximum Velocity: 22.37 (That is, time travels 22.37 times more quickly on a stationary world then it does to the "Relativity" when at maximum speed)

The "Eternity"-class ESS Hecatate shortly after being commissioned in orbit around Novius, in the Ersatia system.

http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a25/Dennis134/eternity.jpg

OOC: I'd like to join. I'm pressed for time, so excuse me if I make any big mistakes. My plan for this post is thus: Small frigate receives message > Replies that they would like to be initiated into the program > Frigate lands on the planet > is met by a Scythe-Master(?) Tell me if this is an decent outline.

OOC: Indeed. It's what would happen, anyway, but otherwise, after that;
Indoctrination>Lessons>Someone is experimented on> People try to escape maybe some who try to stay...

OOC: Sorry about that multi-link thing. Was a little tired when I typed that (went to bed right after posting it).
Anyways, here is what Ja'Erin's ship looks like.
http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b91/SeaQuest_Sim/Babylon%205/atmoshuttle.jpg

IC: Using the cloaking device he had "appropriated" from a Tel'tac, Ja'Erin landed next to the other ship after breaching the shields by sticking only mere centimeters from the other craft's hull.

Once the ship was down, Ja'Erin powered down everything except the cloak. He stalked to the rear compartment and retrived his sword from its air-tight stasis-like storage unit. He checked it and its sheath for signs of wear. Finding none, he replaced the blade in the sheath and strapped it on his back. He sighed as once again the deadly weight settled onto his back after so many years.

With a maniacal glint in his red eyes, he went over to the hatch controls. From here he could both lower the ramp and turn off the cloak.

{ooc: still got room for me?}
Ishskekk arrived at the temple, it had been some effort eluding the imperial gaurds and stealing the raken they were small ships, but untracable, upon landing, he sent the slaves out first, there were only two, but but Ishskekk would just have to rough it until he could find more.

OOC: Yup. Ok, I'm going to reply tomorrow, I would've replied earlier, but I had computer troubles, and I'm still having them. Once I iron the bugs out of Windows (hopefully I won't have to reinstall it), I should be good to go.

“So our current position is where?” asked the Captain, James DeVorn.

The A.S.P.U.S. replied smoothly, “We’re at an orientation of 126°21'13" relative to Ersatia’s galactic axis and 004°09'43" relative to the galactic plane, 34,000 light years from the galactic core and 28,000 light years from Ersatia.”

“Show me where we are,” ordered the Captain, as if hoping to find something there that would make the situation less serious, something A.S.P.U.S had missed. Humans are visual creatures, thought the AI, this will help him understand.

http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a25/Dennis134/hyperspace.jpg

The Captain looked intently at the monitor, rubbing his chin. 28,000 light years... he thought, everything we know will be long gone by now. Slightly more than 28,000 years would had elapsed on Ersatia during their trip due to time dilation, it would be completely unrecognisable by the time they got back (if, indeed, they ever would get back). “The crew won’t take this well,” he whispered.

The A.S.P.U.S. studied him intently. Slightly elevated breathing levels, increased heat rate and perspiration levels, minor tremor in his vocal patterns. All that aside, the A.S.P.U.S. thought he was taking it fairly well, considering the wealth of information it had on human psychology and their reactions to crises. “I suggest, sir, that we investigate the exoplanet located within the habitable zone of this system. It’s not impossible that we might find some manner of assistance there. Preliminary scans have already suggested that this system has been visited before, perhaps is even settled. I’ve detected numerous artificial objects.” The Captain nodded, it couldn't hurt to investigate here and look for help, rather then simply turn and go back home (if it even still existed) without a word.

The Captain looked at A.S.P.U.S. intently, or rather he looked at the primary terminal for accessing A.S.P.U.S.’ controls. They were inside the central mainframe room, surrounded by the clicking and humming devices that constituted A.S.P.U.S’ mind. The AI could have spoken to the Captain anywhere on the ship, especially since the rest of the crew was still cryogenically frozen, but thought it would appear more human-like to ask to speak to him privately for such a serious problem, and I am supposed to emulate humanity it thought.

“We are ready for a retrograde burn?” The Captain asked. He was a career officer, and now that the initial shock had settled in he was ready to take charge. The captain was floating slightly in the zero-g environment, and since they weren't on the spinning wheel of the ship it was obvious the Starship'S engines were not on. “We are, sir,” answered the AI, “I recommend you return to suspended animation immediately so we can begin deceleration away from 0.999c.”

“Why?” asked the Captain, suddenly suspicious. He had accepted the A.S.P.U.S.’ explanation of a fault in the system shutting it down and veering the ship of course, but now this suggestion made him less certain. The A.S.P.U.S. did not fail to notice the doubt in the Captain's voice.

“Sir, we are currently just under 1,600 AU from the exoplanet. Our present velocity is 99.9% of light speed. In order to decelerate in time we will need to burn retrograde for 424 hours 27 seconds at maximum acceleration, which is 20g. Humans cannot survive that. We therefore need to cryogenically freeze you for the duration of our burn.”

The Captain thought it over. He realised just how "alien" the AI was from humans, that it's use of the term "we" would have been part of its programing to appear more human and to make him feel at ease. It wasn't a comforting thought, knowing that behind the screen some cold and utterly efficient machine intelligence was even now studying his every sign to determine what he would say. Almost 18 days in suspended animation while we reduce velocity. “Will we be safe, even in suspended animation?” the Captain asked.

“Most likely, yes,” the AI answered, having anticipated the question and run numerous models to determine that very answer. “Sir, we really don’t have a choice. If we don’t retroburn immediately we risk overshooting the system or even colliding with its star.”

“Very well,” the Captain said as he prepared to return to the rest of his crew in stasis.