NationStates Jolt Archive

All was quiet for an eternity in every direction. The great mechanism that is reality slowly swirled and shifted. Bits of time and matter coalesced in great invisible patterns, with energy branching between and among them. It moved with infinite complexity, but all the while a simplicity not seen in many ages. It was a beautiful chorus of existence, rolling slowly to the tune of some ancient piano.

Then among the calm, a single point of disorder arose. The pattern was broken by an immeasurably small anomaly. Reality had failed, and in that failure, that one instant of an instant in that one small area, chaos had been unleashed. With a great and terrible rumble, which pierced even the soul, the death cry of a moment of reality was heard for light-years in every direction. A star close to the apex was torn asunder, and spread out of time and space, never to be whole again. Thousands of asteroids blinked in and out o existence a thousand times in a moment. Matter was created, destroyed, and reshaped at a pace unthinkable.

A great ripple of chaos extended outward, then almost as soon as it had begun, it collapsed. Reality was enraged by this blemish, this mockery. It came down, crushing it snuffing out all that was abnormal and did not belong. Time began to flow, matter became constant, and energy leveled.

Around what had been the center of this hurricane sat a single huge monolithic structure, floating black on black within the void. Currents of immeasurable energy vented into space from towers which dwarfed mountains and cities. With a shudder reality once again threatened to collapse with the overload of power released in the moments following its previous collapse. The shudder passed however, and the last reverberations of chaos among nothingness faded.

Among these epic towers, an artificial world slowly unlocked. Great chasms broke among the landscape and a terrible mockery of genesis was witnessed. Soon the immense plumes of energy dissipated, the final bit of excess energy expelled to float aimlessly, lost to fate.

A billion years of genesis passed in artificial hours. Soon a great and incredible orb of sorts, complete with immense protrusions sat where there had been nothing but a mediocre star. It was greater than a planet, immense beyond compare.

Continuing the ungodly acceleration of natural life, the great orb began to split, an Armageddon unmatchable. Ships, which only moments ago had been mountains or plains broke away from the earth they had been among. Some disappeared almost instantly, traveling to god knows where in the galaxy to carry out vendettas and plots untold. The majority, however, remained and began to move about in great and chaotic circles, like the buzzing of some interstellar hive.

There was nothing natural here however, this was not some mindless biological swarm. It was industry, technology, and death. For what now lived, or rather inhabited, this corner of space was an ancient and chaotic race, the Noctis.

Soon however, they would be gone, spread out amongst the galaxy and its stars like sand on the wind, no home ahead or behind, simply eternity.

bump

Chaos...

Most men can only comprehend Chaos in how it affects them; but the men of the Imperium, most notably the Emperor Remiel De Drakan, allow themselves to be fuelled by Chaos, to be shaped by and to in turn shape it. Nowhere else in the galaxy, or the universe, can more willing disciples of Entropy and Change be found...Even now they watch, and ready themselves for the great battles against Law. The coming endgame that beckons from the shadows.

A cry of sundered space and time touched the ears of the Imperium; and they turned their sensors forth, to watch in awe and admiration at the chaos loosed upon the fabric of reality; of the Material Plane torn and violated; reshaped to a singular will...

It was thus that a standard, 20 ship Explorator Fleet was dispatched; to examine this new phenomenon; to tap yet more of the mysteries of Chaos itself.

"Wot tha hell is thatz!"

Kaptin Gritzk yelled towards his supposed sensors Goblin, who stared back at him with a look of confusion, for a brief moment it had been a star and now it looked like a planet, a good planet at that, the question was were it had come from. A Goblin could not possibly have comprehended the science involved in telling him that a planet was not supposed to mysteriously just "appear" but they did know that planets did not just "appear".

"Loadz up alls wepunz, getz reediz for wotevaz it is!"

Of course when placed in a situation which a Goblin does not understand it is common for the first course of action to be that of an all out offensive, this Goblin was, however, remarkably passifistic, a rarity these days.

Within an hour, nearly a fourth of all the ships that initially tore themselves from that massive desolate world that ripped its way into reality were gone. The remaining thousands circled, moving as one, with distinctions still very visible. The sheer variety of architecture was incredible, there was no unifying factor, save within small groups of ships, Cryptfleets. Some were immense and archaic, adorned in ornate designs, grotesque or beautiful. Some were Spartan, clean and efficient, almost always deadly. Similar designs clustered together, but were still very much a part of the whole.

The “core” of the world still remained, as still more ships broke away, as if being eroded away by time in moments. Only one small Cryptfleet floated to the side of the swirling masses, as if waiting for those who would approach, and indeed they were. The Crypt Regals were considered one of the most “steady” groups by there compatriots, despite their terrifying architecture, handed down by generations lost.

The flagship Yig’Regalis floated at the head of the cluster in silence. Great inky mist, blacker than space itself, seemed to emanate from it filling the surrounding area in a terrible gloom. The ship really resembled a great temple torn from some planet, modified a bit and made space worthy.

Aboard the bridge Tartus Regal the Dawn Breaker stood dwarfed by his two guards, each of which stood an imposing ten feet tall. Tartus, was a rather diminutive four and a half feet. Unlike many about him, he was fully organic, but hardly alive. His skin was pale and sunken over a worn frame. His blood had long lain clotted and black amongst the alien tissue, his eyes deep pits. What he had been was unclear, the body was of some foreign race that had most likely descended from a cephalopod of some nature. It was not originally his, rather his soul and mind inhabited it, and had been doing so for a little over twenty thousand years.

Despite his intimidating appearance and incredible age, he was light hearted and kind, and very good at making first impressions. As the ships of two unknown races appeared he smiled a broken black smile.

He opened his mouth and spoke in his factions dialect, Vox’Regalis’Cryptos, “Lets see what they do, but prepare to send a message.”

The sound of the courier's footsteps echoed along the walls of the neverending hallway, slowly quickening the farther he went. They eventually reached a speed impossibleto be reached by man, at which point the courier turned a corner and revealed himself as a synthenoid, barreling over the squid-creature just turning that edge himself. "Sorry!" it bellowed out, as it continued its rapid run down the corridor.

The footsteps stopped abruptly as the synthenoid came to an ornate door inlaid with four letters of crystal Pyronite, their internal fires blazing in the light of the nearby wall-mounted lamps. "Jetz" was what they read, simply that and nothing else, and sat surrounded by the blacksteel plaque. The synthenoid quickly barged through the doors, entering an office which could not have possibly been contained within the confines of the building.

It was white. That was the only thing to be said about it. Pure, uncorrupted white. There was not a speck of shadow, not even a hint of shade or darkness, the room being lit by some violent, unseen lightsource. One might also notice that the room did not seem to have any boundaries; except for the wall in which the door was inlaid, the room seemed to extend forever, with no ceiling in sight.

The synthenoid noticed its surroundings begin to shift, as if speeding along an unseen track to bring him to an unknown location. It suddenlu stopped, the abrupt halt rocking the courier forward slightly as he found himself in front of a desk. A wooden desk, uncommon in the advanced office, behind which lay a velvet, red office chair. Behind that, lay a window. Despite being automative, the synthenoid could not help but be disturbed by the window, for it hung on nothing, simply floating above the ground five feet behind the desk. His gaze was forced elsewhere, however, as the office chair spun to reveal a dark blue-skinned creature, who looked at the courier with its pupiless, bug-like ruby eyes. He moved a bit of his silver hair out of the way of his eyes as he watched the mechanoid, twiddling his thumbs.

As is suddenly remembering the reason he had come, the synthenoid spouted out its message. "Mr. Jetz, scanners in sector 9976-Plural-G-Quadrant-7-Subsector-82 have picked up a disturbing spatial anomaly within two Galaxies of its designated monitoring sector-"

Despite his absence of a mouth, the being who had been designated Jetz helf his hand up, silencing the courier by his own control. "I already know. I sensed it ten minutes ago, and I'm not sure that I like it. I've already alerted the Supervising Monitor on the closest station to open up a Pull-Gate so that we can send through an Extractor squadron. You can go."

As the courier saw Jetz flick his wrist, he found himself once again speeding through some sort of nexus, appearing once more outside the doors of the office. He could never get used to visiting the CEO.
_________________________________________________________________

Elsewhere, on the station located in sector 9976-Plural-G-Quadrant-7-Subsector-74, a Supervisor found himself with orders directly from the Boss himself, following them to the word.

A hexagonal ring-like contraption, measuring almost a kilometer across, dropped out from the bottom of the station, activating its thrusters after ten second and slowing its launch until it stood still in the vacuum of space. Along its edge, small green lights began illuminating, circling the ring in a clockwise fashion until it was circled in the lights. With a Bang! and a flash of light, a swirling nexus of energy appeared in the Pull-Gate's center, warping slightly outward from the ring as if being pushed against from something inside.

Apparently, whatever was pushing won, and the nexus suddenly "shattered" as a dozen, arachnoid-like vessels broke free of the void and rushed forward into space amidst a shower of sparks. Shaped much like a spider in both design and shape, each five hundred meter-long craft had eight "legs" to it, which seemed to shuffle as the aft-mounted pulse drives propelled them forward with incredible speed. Whether this had any significance in the vessels' movement, however, was unknown, as they moved in a synchronised, almost fluid-like fashion as they sped towards their destination.

Gritzk had a depp look of both confusion and thought all wrapped up within his eyebrow, he looked out at the system below which seemed to be swarming with things moving, things which seemed to have simply been torn from the planet itself.

"Wot are we's gunna be doin' Kap'n?"

Gritzk, for the first time in his life could not answer the subordinate, he could not even find a good enough retort with which to hurl back at the First Officer who was still awaiting a response.

"aaah.... jyuuuuummmm... Sen' out a messidj, see if theys on our side on their owns!"

The Regal Cryptfleet moved ever so slightly to intercept the incoming fleets so as to provide a buffer for their relatively vulnerable brethren, many of whom were in the delicate process of jumping to any location in the galaxy. What had been a world was now almost completely deconstructed, with a single core layer of ships peeling off, revealing a hollow center. The world of ships had now completely dispersed and was moving about in a great swirling maelstrom.

Tartus decided that a message would be necessary. While he knew almost every language of this galaxy, having studied them for years before the jump, he was still unsure, stuck with an incredibly thick accent and numerous grammatical errors. Due to this fact, a text message was in order, at least for the moment. He also refrained from sending any images, as they knew their appearance would put the new arrivals… he smiled at that thought, they were the new arrivals. He knew their appearance would put the new arrivals at unease.

With a slow and steady voice he dictated the message into text.

We are pleased with this welcome and interest, and must let you know that we hold interest as well. Introductions are often common, we are the Noctis, who are you? We do not wish the discharge of weapons, and wish none unto ourselves. We must ask that you stay back from the main formation, for it is delicate at the moment, and we would despise our retaliation. Despite this, we cordially welcome you and say greetings.

bump

Gritzk read the message twice before frantically writing back with his mind still focused on the maelstrom down below.

I Am Gritzk of Toophium, we's Ooniversull Scrappaz kollektin' junk tha' none elz want, wheel moof bakk ter sho wes meen no 'arm.

The order was given and the ship began to drift backwards to a safe distance, but still visible to the planet.

Though arriving later than the other powers' respectful craft, the incoming Extractor Squadron still managed to pick up enough of the Noctis' transmission for the pilots of the crafts to understand.

As it was, the leader of the squad, a Ga-Sing model Combat Droid, sat in the spacious, one-man cockpit of his G22 Extrakknoid, watching the text message play over his screen. Without a thought, a command spark flew through the wires connecting the synthenoid's electronic "Brain" to the response controls of the craft in which he sat, sending a reply back to the Noctis Cryptfleet.

We are...Both an investigative team sent to inspect this anomaly that...for lack of a better word, "Formed" your fleet...As well as a temporary diplomatic party, in the event that any negotiations or such are able to be constructed. As it stands at the moment, however, we are simply here to observe. We have placed ourselves at enough of a distance for us to believe that we are not interfering with your affairs; however, if we are in fact too near, we are willing to move back further.

The message slowly appeared on the display screens on the bridge of the Yig’Regalis. Within moments the alien text was shaped into the Cryptoglyphs, native alphabet of the Noctis. Tartus slowly mused over the messages, and after a few moments a smile broke across his decayed face. Two of the three newly arrived fleets had shown peaceful intentions, the third, however, had yet to respond. It worried him, but for the moment floated at the back of his mind as no hostile actions had yet to be taken.

A crewman looked up an intra-communications terminal, “Sir, about two thirds of the Noctis have departed to their respective locations, the remaining third are going to stick around for the time being.” Tartus nodded in acknowledgment of the message.

Tartus then looked over at another crewman, “Any guesses of where the core may be?”

“Not one sir, as usual.”

Tartus frowned, so be it.

He then sat and began to compose replies to both messages.

Target: Toops
We thank you for the gesture of kindness in moving back, and are pleased to inform you that it is no longer necessary. Your fleet may approach to any distance, provided it is no closer than our respective “orbit”. Following our departure from this locale within an unknown period of time, you may collect any and all scrap left behind. Other than that, we wish to inquire about your species and history, if you would be so open.

Target: Gadget Corp
Your distance if appropriate and acceptable. As far as this “anomaly” is concerned we would be happy to explain what happened, but regret to inform you that the science behind it is beyond us at the moment. If you wish negotiations may begin, but we must state that in the long term our agreements would be applicable to my fleet alone. Each separate Cryptfleet is its own independent entity. In the mean time, we wish to inquire about your species and history, if you would be so kind.

Guarda shackdown cruise:
"report!"
"FTL drive is good."
"Good we are done then." Just then a thip was torn out of hyperspace. Shield capibilty was knocked out, and sowas artifical gravity. The cre immediatly activated their magnectic boots.
"Dispatch the nanobots toc ommence repairs. What happened?"
"We ran into a gravity well thats not supposed to be here... wait sir ther are thousands of ships orbiting" he looks again "Something."
"Send this message." the com officer then sends a message to the massive fleet.
message:
"Why is this here? Who are you."
The guarda then activated its weapons.

"Komms! Send 'em some info on tha Toops!"

"Aye Sah, sendin' arkhive infermayshun! (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Toops#Full_History)"

The Hulk remained waiting for any important scrap to arrive, this day had been good, a friend had been made, which considering the proffesion of the Toop was a rare thing.

Species...Well, we don't exactly have a "species" per se. You see, we are a...Company, if you will. Your friendly, universal corporation. Despite this, we don't tend to employ more than synthenoids. If you'd like to know more about our models, I've sent over an E-Catalogue (http://s13.invisionfree.com/Gadget_Corporation/index.php?showtopic=18), but beyond that, there is little to tell, besides that I and my fellow pilots are of the Ga-Sing variety.

History, well, I can say a bit more to that. It's public information, after all. I've provided a section of our Brochure (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/GadgetCorp) for your your convenience.