NationStates Jolt Archive

Following STL Transmission received, identified as distress call, and rebroadcast FTL by unmanned reconnaissance probe. Unable to triangulate exact origin, estimated 10 to 15 years ago in Sector B11e25g. Sent out on all FTL channels, no scrambling to all listeners.

This is Human Colony *Ksshsshk* we are under attack by unknown alien species. They’ve blocked hyper-transmissions, so I’m sending this…I only hope somebody hears it in time. There’s at least *Kssshssshk* capital ships, and overwhelming *Kssshssshk* on ground. There are over sixty million of us here. You’ve got to send help. *Kssshssshk* They’re about to take my transmitter facility. Again, this is Human Colony Ber*ksshk*, send help. If you’re close enough to pick this up in time, you’ll know where we are. No time for exact coordinates.

Message repeats once again, followed by gunfire and silence. Damaged video feed is being processed for stills. Recommend sending scout ship to investigate sectors B11e25g, B11e25h and B12e25g.

---
On a nearly-forgotten human colony, partially decomposed, mummified corpses lay face down in neat rows. Over 60 million men women and children, executed in the streets of Bershan’s towns. There were no survivors of the five week conflict, and the alien menace left none of their own dead behind.

The Valerae picked up a transmission from a probe.

"There appears to be a colony that's in distress."
"Damn, only a few hours before holidays start too. Oh well, take us there."
"Another slight problem, they're using thier own co-ordinate system."
"Crap, can you figure it out?"
"With a 99.989% likelyhood."
"Then lets go see these colonials."

The Valerae flickered out and a short period later flickered into one of the three given systems where it commenced scanning for any development or anything unusual.

The Kazeci Heavy Battle Carrier SharNevar received the transmission. Within moments they had jumped to the probe's retransmitting point. Half an hour more and they were able to pick out only one habitable system within the range of an STL transmission within the last 20 years, it was there that they jumped next.

"Sir, I'm not picking up anything; no body's been here in a long time." He turned to one of the science officers. "Are you sure this is the only system that it could have come from?"
"Quite, there are no ground battles in systems with A-L class planets." He retorted.
"I've got a Theao vessel, it appears to have just arrived as well!"
"Get them on a channel, I want to make sure we're both working for peace."
Theao vessel, we are the SharNevar, come on behalf of the distress signal broadcast from here. Our mission is one of peace, and we hope you share that intent.

Something like that, this is the Valerae. Just came to see what the situation was that caused the problem.

"They're always showing up in reports, seem to be almost as exploratory as we."
"Indeed."

ooc: Yay, 14,000th

FTL Communciations Incoming...
Finding port, please wait...
Connection established, port 3078...
Channel opened...
Topic: Distress Signal
Urgent Status, redirecting to Head Office


The foyer at Head Office was, as usual, bustling. As the connection between the various departments of the sprawling government centre it was naturally the place where the human, the fairly human, and the not-at-all human congregated during breaks. Since Head Office had been constructed there had been a persistent and misleading rumour that affairs of state were conducted in the Government Chamber, the cavernous amphitheatre-like room beyond the currently closed double doors at the southern extreme of the circular room. This was untrue and bordering on the slanderous. The Government Chamber was where politicians went to rant and posture. It was the foyer where deals were brokered and plots hatched.

The communications signal was rerouted one last time, having passed through two major FTLComm hubs and five standard nodes to reach someone with sufficient clearance while avoiding the excessive network traffic of the economics minister streaming enormous amounts of bandwidth-clogging pornography. It made one quick hop from a ceiling-mounted array and finally reached the neural communications implant of Michael Carraway, Junior Secretary, Defence Department.

Redirection Complete...
Commencing datastream...

"This is Human Colony *Ksshsshk* we are under attack by unknown alien species. They’ve blocked hyper-transmissions, so I’m sending this…I only hope somebody hears it in time. There’s at least *Kssshssshk* capital ships, and overwhelming *Kssshssshk* on ground. There are over sixty million of us here. You’ve got to send help. *Kssshssshk* They’re about to take my transmitter facility. Again, this is Human Colony Ber*ksshk*, send help. If you’re close enough to pick this up in time, you’ll know where we are. No time for exact coordinates."


His first reaction was surprise that anyone had actually known about Taldaan to contact it. Almost no contact had been made with civilisations from outside the system before, with only two recorded incidents, both in recent weeks. Making a third contact would surely guarantee him at least a little credit, possibly allowing him to move up to a senior position. Opening up diplomatic relations, although not strictly within his powers as a junior secretary, would certainly be the career move of a lifetime, and there would be very few who would care about his stepping outside of his boundaries if it meant new diplomatic channels and trade routes.

His plan was fairly simple. The fact that the government was made up of tens of thousands of people made his job easier. By exploiting the system and routing his communications through the central defence department computer he could plausibly masquerade as a senior, allowing him to requisition troops and ships. The massive government forced them to allow senior government operatives a large amount of independence to stop the entire process stagnating completely.

His first port of call was to contact a high-level combat vessel to serve as leader of his expedition. He was a politician, not a soldier, and by allowing a military Mind to look after the organisation and deployment of the force he could better ensure its success, and therefore his promotion. Using his neural implant to access a ship roster, he chose a likely looking Mind and requested that it send a simulacrum to his office as soon as possible.

It was ten minutes later when his office door slid open to permit the electromagnetic simulacrum of HCV You and Who's Army? to enter. As the Minds were the sapient control systems of warships, meeting You and Who's Army? in the flesh would be impractical. The kilometre long Heavy Combat Vehicle would be incapable of passing through the doors, as well as the drawback of being incapable of atmospheric flight. The simulacrum was, for Carraway anyway, not an improvement. One of the advantages of using a shaped electromagnetic field to provide a tangible image was that the Mind could change shape of its simulacrum at will. Although they usually chose to take on the shape of a sailor or astronaut due to the nature of their job (on his walk from the foyer to his office, Carraway had seen Neil Armstrong, Blackbeard and Christopher Columbus, and had a rather disturbing encounter with two Nelsons), You and Who's Army? had forsaken tradition and elected to take the form of an AttackBot. The AttackBots had been an experiment with using non-sapient artificial intelligence to control robotic soldiers. Although they had exhibited vastly superior battlefield performance to human soldiers, they had been withdrawn after their first use in urban combat for what had been euphemistically called "targetting errors". Although they had been used over a century before Carraway had been born, he had heard the stories and seen them in pictures.

The vaguely human but infinitely more menacing apparition sat down on the other side of the desk in the second-best chair, looked Carraway in the eye, and waited for him to speak. He did so.

"I attached the message I recieved to my original transmission to you, so you already know whats going on. I want you to lead a task force to discover what happened there and intervene if the situation demands it. If the human colony has survived, make contact. I leave the organisation in your capable hands."

The simulacrum began to speak, and Carraway flinched. It wasn't so much the voice he minded, but the Mind seemed to have picked up the habit of gesticulating wildly, and half-metre combat claws flashed perilously close to his face.

"I'd like to know anything else you know about the situation. I'd also like to know why a junior secretary is pretending to be a senior. I'll do the job because patrolling around Augustus is like watching paint dry, but I'd recommend that you wait in line for your promotion instead of playing at seniors. Its a good thing that you didn't get anyone who cared, because your clearance masking is pretty awful."


It was around eighteen hours later when the task force arrived in the destination system. With one HCV, three MCVs, and six LCVs, plus a few non-sentient landers containing around one thousand soldiers, it was hardly a large force, but it would easily last long enough to turn tail and flee if the resistance was too great. Of course, if the mission went awry, You and Who's Army? could always use Carraway as a scapegoat. After all, whats another junior secretary?

"Small fleet jumping in-system, sir!" shouted one of the ensigns at a sensors station.
"Tactical?" The captain's response was almost automated.
"They're battle-ready, sir. 10 vessels, largest is about a click long. No aggressive moves so far."
"Make contact and make peace." The captain, who held the rank of commander, remained calm knowing that they had not yet made an aggressive move. Despite this, protocol required them to raise shields, something that had been done during the TRO (tactical read out).
"Sir, what if these are the aliens who were attacking when the signal was sent?"
"And if we find they're not after we make some stupid aggressive move? We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, Lieutenant." The commander emphasized the officer's rank, thus ending the conversation.

New vessels, we are the Kazeci HBC SharNevar. We're here on a mission of peace and aid. Please identify your intent.

Initiating tightbeam FleetComm...
FleetComm initiated...
Topic: Engagement

<HCV You and Who's Army?> All Minds to full combat readiness. Power up railgun capacitors, remove RCV safeties, and prepare to engage. We have multiple contacts, most likely the alien fleet. All MCVs, form up around me. LCVs, take flanks. I'm slaving the non-sapients.


The non-sapient troop carriers slid towards the back of the formation to take advantage of the protection offered by the combat vessels. Meanwhile, the sapient ships formed up. Railguns powered up, ready to pound any opposition into dust. Active defences prepared to defend the ships from missiles. The fleet continued their deceleration burn, although they still moved closer to to other fleet.

The communication reached the fleet as it was forming up, vanishing into You and Who's Army?'s communications array. Protocols tried and failed to decode it: the other ships were using encryption unknown to the Taldaani vessels. Having failed to decode it, and therefore failing to recognise it as a communication, paranoia circuits kicked in.


<HCV You and Who's Army?> I'm being targetted with unidirectional emissions, probably targetting sensors of some kind. All ships, pick a target and target weapons. We won't fire first, but when they start shooting I want them dead before they can blink.


Sharing targetting data to co-ordinate, each ship swung railguns around to point at an opposing ship. Each capacitor was charged up, each railguns ready to open fire. Weapons bay doors could open on a hair-trigger, and relativistic kill vehicles were ready to be dropped and fired. As soon as the enemy made any hostile move, they would be fired on.

"Crap, both the Kaz and newlies look like they want to blow each other to hell and gone, guess the newlies think we're the hosts and versa."
"Seems that way."
"Then send them a message on open frequency explaining it."

This is the Valerae, of the Theao Imperial Scouts.
If you not responsible for the attack on the colony that sent out a distress message, we would request that you stand down, as neither are we, nor the Kazecistan vessel the, SharNevar.

ooc: There are(unless the OP has something else planned) two other vessels beside yours Taldaan

"This is Human Colony *Ksshsshk* we are under attack by unknown alien species. They’ve blocked hyper-transmissions, so I’m sending this…I only hope somebody hears it in time. There’s at least *Kssshssshk* capital ships, and overwhelming *Kssshssshk* on ground. There are over sixty million of us here. You’ve got to send help. *Kssshssshk* They’re about to take my transmitter facility. Again, this is Human Colony Ber*ksshk*, send help. If you’re close enough to pick this up in time, you’ll know where we are. No time for exact coordinates."
"This was the message that we picked up." Master Elendil of the High Council reported. "As far as we can triangulate, it's near the Ghost Nebula, but how near is what you have to figure out."

"I see, Master." Jacen Masaki, the Water Knight replied aboard his ship, Nautical Nausea, a corvette modified for submarine operations as well as space operations. "Thanks for letting me know, and may the Force be with you."

"And you, Jacen." Switching off the comms, Jacen turned to a member of his crew. "Hey, Niner, we got a mission."

"Excitement: Oh, boy Master, do we get to crush some meatbags?" An HK-59 droid answered. He is also capable of underwater missions, but equally adept on the surface as all his brethren are. "Blow up a government building? Start a war?"

Jacen rolled his eyes. "Sometimes I wonder about you. No, you heard the message. A colony has gone off the scopes and we're going to find out what happened to it. And no, we're not going to fight anything."

"Complaint: Aww man! Why must I be so cursed? A peaceful mission. Bleh." Niner groaned.

"Get used to it. You're serving with the Jedi now." Jacen smirked as he launched the ship into hyperspace. "We don't do fighting unless it's a last resort."

"Statement: In my experience, whenever the Jedi are involved, something interesting always happen."

"Let's hope that wish doesn't come true." Jacen said, mentally tagging this mission as a C-level for starters.

----

Soon enough, the Water Knight and his crazy droid friend reverted to realspace near the colony, and the Nautical Nausea's sensors detected other interested parties in the area.

"Statement: There is quite a few meatbag ships in the area." Niner noted.

"Yeah. Let's introduce ourselves then." Jacen picked up the mike. "Hello to all present. I'm Jacen Masaki aboard the Nautical Nausea. Who are you?"

"Another one, bah."
"Well let's be polite and reply."

Jacen Masaki, this is the Valerae, the Kazecistan vessel is SharNevar and I'm as yet unsure as to the identity of the third group.

A chain of action was set in motion immediately by the Taldaan fleet's actions. The lights on-board went out, then came back as a low red. The information tower (a holographic cylinder at the center of the bridge) began to swirl with red text and schematics. Energy output of the reactors increased by 50%. All at once. Still, no weapons activated.

"Shit, sir! Shit! Shit! Shit! They're moving into a battle formation and powering weapons!"
"Dead stop! I want us to drift! Shut down everything but shields. Do not target weapons. Do not scan. Do not breath." The commander had become gravely serious in a heart beat. He was never this serious, ever. In fact, he had been more loose during a very close firefight with a raiding party a few months back. No one dared do anything but obey. Half the crew held their breath, fearing. "Let's try communication one last time. Bring external holographic generators online."

Within moments, two holographic forms appeared in space, both human, one representing the Taldaan and one representing the Kazecis. Although both held a weapon, the one representing Kazecistan slowly put it down onto an imaginary floor. He made a few slow hand gestures for the Taldaan to do the same. Surely they would understand something so basic?

The passive electromagnetic radiation sensors detected the reduction in emissions from the possibly hostile ship until they almost mirrored the background. There was of course some trace emission in the infra-red spectrum, but nothing perceived as a threat. For now at least the Taldaani ships were aware that they were not being targeted. Sensor readings from both active and passive elements showed that the ships were following a momentum flightpath rather than manoeuvring, suggesting that their drives had been shut down.


<HCV You and Who's Army?> Targets are standing down. Keep capacitors charged but cease unidirectional targetting. Reset RCVs to safe.

There was a pause.

<HCV You and Who's Army?> We have offboard emissions from target, visible light spectrum, low power; not a weapons emission, but worth checking out.

Another pause, although only a fraction of a second.

<HCV You and Who's Army?> Its a hologram. They are standing down. Point weapons away from them, they should get the message. Flankers, drop back into passive configuration.


The formation once again rearranges. The LCVs on the flanks of the formation drop back from their potential pincer movement into a swept-back flying v, a defensive rather than an aggressive formation. However, the problems are not over.


<LCV Aggressive Negotiations> We have two distinct emissions sources on passive electromagnetic sensors. One omnidirectional, transmitting in two distinct wavelengths and frequencies. Probably an omnidirectional scan and communications. The other is showing sensor readings but also a unidirectional emission pointed right at us. Threat from the first contact is low, second contact is medium-low. Emission could be a targetter, but waveform is roughly consistent with the emissions from our original contact.

<HCV You and Who's Army?> Very well. All ships, slave hull pattern designator to me.


Although there is grumbling across the channel at this breach of independence the other Minds comply. Although the hulls are normally black to blend in with the background, they now turn white. Black humanoid figures move across them in a procession of friendly gestures. The first animation is of two of the figures shaking hands. The second is another two figures obviously exchanging goods. The picture then goes blank and changes into a map of the galaxy. The position of the current system is highlighted in red, and then a second highlight picks out the position of Taldaan. The final and longest sequence is a potted version of why the Taldaani ships are here, telling the story of the distress signal, although leaving out some of the details about why Carraway wanted to send a fleet. Although no text is used due to a possible language barrier, the pictorial display clearly shows a friendly intent.

Lights went yellow and doubled intensity inside the ship as a sigh of relief swept over the crew. Systems began to come back online, but only those which wouldn't threaten anyone. To warn them of what was about to happen, the holographic projection 'spoke', showing sound waves emanating from its mouth. Then communications opened in all known languages (a very extensive database), forms (text, audio, 2D, 3D, etc.), and channels. The message was broadcast freely, not directed at any one vessel but to every direction.
To all local vessels, this is the Kazeci ship SharNevar. We are here on a mission of peace, responding to investigate the distress call sent from here a dozen years ago. We wish no harm to any one, and to our knowledge, nor do any other vessels here.

"Valerae, SharNevar nice to see you. I'm here for the same reason, looks like." Jacen replied. He noticed the potential standoff, preparing to interceed diplomatically if necessary, but looks like it wasn't necessary. Interesting, those two appear to have been standing off, but they're now standing down. Glad things turn out well.

The Nautical Nausea had been picked up, but only briefly as scanners were taken off line shortly ofter their arrival. Somehow their presence wasn't as urgent as that of the Taldaani. Now, however, they would receive the same message as the Taldanni and that was good.

The transmission from the Kazeci ship was recieved with some interest by the Taldaani vessels, who immediately devoted much of their thought to investigating the content.


<LCV Concentration of Force> Kazeci? Does that name mean anything to anyone?
<MCV Territorial Redistribution> Can't say I've heard it before. Look at all these languages, though. Does anyone know what this means? For each language there must be a people, and to have contact with a spacefaring race they were probably civilised enough for the Kazeci to take notice.
<LCV Chainsaw Operative> We can't assume that. Many of these civilisations have probably been wiped out or assimilated.
<MCV Territorial Redistribution> Even so. Even accounting for that there must be hundreds of civilisations out there. And this transmission is like a Rosetta Stone. The messages are only short, but we can learn a lot from them.
<HCV You and Who's Army?> For now, we should concentrate on the message. The Kazeci are apparently friendly and we should respond in kind.


OmniComm activated...
Transmitting...

Greetings to all local ships. We are representatives of Taldaan sent to investigate a distress signal broadcast from this region. Ships present are Heavy Combatant Vehicle You and Who's Army?, Medium Combatant Vehicles Territorial Redistribution, Steely Gaze, and Occam's Razor, and Light Combatant Vehicles Chainsaw Operative, Aggressive Negotiations, Concentration of Force, Spear of Diplomacy, Warhawk, and Laughing Warrior, as well as several ancillary vehicles. Our mission is mainly a peaceful one, an attempt to discover what happened here and to meet with any human survivors. We hope that you can forgive our initial reaction. We believed that we were entering a combat zone, and reacted as such.

The transmission was returned, still in the same wide spectrum of languages and formats. Quite understandable, and completely forgiven. Seeing as our missions are all the same, perhaps we could work together toward the goal?

In addition, seeing as we are making first contact with you, Tidaan, and meeting you in the flesh for the first time, CoreWorlds, we propose a little diplomacy to formalize our relations? We're willing to host a diplomatic meeting between all races present, should you accept.

"Statement: Diplomacy, Master? All talk, nothing to destroy. Why it's enough to make one--" A glare from Jacen cut Niner off at midsentence.

"Do you want me to freeze every single one of your wires? Or perhaps get water into places you don't even know you had." Jacen grinned coldly, one of the canteens on his belt vibrating menacingly. "You're waterproof, but not to the point where I can't get in."

"Plaintive statement: Oh, please, no! You know how hard it is to get water out of my innards? Last time you did that, it took a week to dry out!" Niner griped.

"Then stop whining and let me do my job."

"Reply: Yes, Master. Whatever you say, Master."

Sighing, Jacen returned to the task at hand. "Yeah, Diplomacy will be a good idea about now. As a Jedi Knight, I'm of course eligible to initiate formal relations with other nations. How do you want to do it?"

We always prefer in-person relations when it comes to national matters. As before, we offer our vessel as a host for such a meeting.
As before, the transmission was in many languages and on many bands; open to everybody. "You think we really still need to be doing that?" The communications officer complained.

The Commander looked over to the on-board diplomat, Bryce, who answered the question. "It gives the Tidaani a 'rosetta stone'. It is truly a great gift to receive for a nation just making its presence known on the galactic scale. What's your few moments extra work is for them invaluable." He held up a hand to silence the officer while he finished. "And that makes them happier to talk with us, allowing for improved relations between our two nations, through making this mission a greater success, thus glorifying this crew, thus bringing you closer to a promotion. Why I expended the effort of explaining that to you, I don't know. What I do know, however, is that your job is to follow orders and those were your orders, which is all you need to know."

OOC: Ummm..did that last post belong in this thread? And I'm gong to let this space-conflict play out before I make another IC post. Also, nice mention of a nearby nebula, Coreworlds- that'll come in handy for me not to have to introduce it myself. Thanks for replying everybody, the Hidden Overlord likes people to participate.

"That will be amicable. I shall bring my protocol droid with me as my aide. Can your ship handle something 150 meters in length?" Jacen said, and he glared at Niner. "And you damn well better stay in protocol mode unless I tell you otherwise."

"Contrite Reply: Of course, Master, much as I dislike it..." Niner said. He then slumped forward and then sat back up. His eyes were different, a calmer white, and even an air about him gave off an aura of nonviolence, a refreshing change from the normal HK mode. "Protocol mode engaged. How may I serve you, Master?"

"Just wait with me. Tim! Hold down the ship for me!" Jacen ordered a crewmember of the corvette. The young man waved back in reply. There's about ten crew aboard the [Nautical Nausea plus a few droids to help keep things smooth. That doesn't count the gunners and squad, though.

That is acceptable. Could you please had something to eat prepared as I haven't had lunch yet?

The Valerae sent the message, adding the bit about the food and Alexander's request.

OOC: Ummm..did that last post belong in this thread? And I'm gong to let this space-conflict play out before I make another IC post. Also, nice mention of a nearby nebula, Coreworlds- that'll come in handy for me not to have to introduce it myself. Thanks for replying everybody, the Hidden Overlord likes people to participate.
OOC: Hehe. You're welcome. BTW, the little standoff is over now, so you can come in anytime. I look forward to what you plan.

I come in with paragraphs of descriptive prose when you hit the ground.

OOC: So the poetry of what happened will have to wait. Cool enough.

OOC: So the poetry of what happened will have to wait. Cool enough.

OOC: Is it too late to intervene at all?

Far from the borders of the Empire

A long smooth shape glided through space, a single large blue circle of light shon faintly in the empty Vastness of the black. As the ship slid further into view her name and designation became clearer, S.I.N 1135 Enchantress. On her sides two great hangar bays lay dormant, the blast doors sealed shut, and rows of twinkling lights in the gaps between the huge armoured portions of the hull were the only signs of life on this ship from the exterior. Sweeping further back toward the rear of this elegant vessel a command tower stood out, with a triplet of radomes like tiny bubbles in the composition of the ship located on top.

The Bridge

Commodore Harlan Anunnziata, sat in his commanders chair staring out of the forward viewport toward the endless formations of stars. Hundreds of years on, and we still dont know anything about what created this beautiful universe he mused to himself. His musings were cut short as his Comms Officer, Jennifer Rankin, drew his attention with a sharp clearing of her throat. "Commodore, we have picked up a transmission from an unknown party, would you like me to patch it through sir?" Harlan sat up in his chair, and nodded, "Yes forward screens please Jen." The Commodore insisted on a first name basis with all his officer, a carry over from his early days commanding the lighter frigates which had brought him through his rapid rise in rank, his officers however, insisted on the protocol.

"This is Human Colony *Ksshsshk* we are under attack by unknown alien species. They’ve blocked hyper-transmissions, so I’m sending this…I only hope somebody hears it in time. There’s at least *Kssshssshk* capital ships, and overwhelming *Kssshssshk* on ground. There are over sixty million of us here. You’ve got to send help. *Kssshssshk* They’re about to take my transmitter facility. Again, this is Human Colony Ber*ksshk*, send help. If you’re close enough to pick this up in time, you’ll know where we are. No time for exact coordinates."

Harlan frowned, "John, can you get a fix on the location that transmission emanated from?" His Chief Navigator, Lieutenant John Trepay, bent over his console, tapping at keys and drawing his finger across the interactive screen. "Yes Commodore, judging from the location this was sent it, seems to have come from Nebula Here" John moved the image up onto the forward screens, on it a map of the galaxy he had indicated blinked on and off. "I am 99% Sure that it came from one of the planets in this sector Commodore, would you like me to set course sir?" Harlan nodded, pleased at the younger officers show of initiative. "Yes John lock position and prepare to Jump to that location." Turning back to his CO he asked "Jen anything else in that transmission?" She shook her head as she studied it again, trying to clean up as much of it as she could. "No sir, there appears to be video footage in here, but its highly degraded, itll take a few hours to clean it up enough to view." Harlan nodded grimly, "Alright Karl, when we reach our destination I want full power to the shields, we dont know what might be there when we arrive." Battle Sergeant Karl Krieger nodded at his Commander. "Aye Sir.". Leaning back in his seat Harlan mused to himself Well lets see whats out there.

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

As the Enchantress dropped back into Realspace, the ships sensors immmediately registered other ships in the area. "Commodore I'm reading other ships in the area sir, activating shields now." Around the ship a pulsating blue bubble wrapped itself protectively around the ship as she slowed her speed. "Jen i want you to Send out an all frequency transmission with the following: Attention Unknown ships, this is the S.I.N Enchantress, we have received a transmission for aid. Who are you and what is going on here?" The commodore sat back in his chair and awaited a reply.

ooc: If you meant my post, yes it did belong here, just a little internal RP to help introduce my next character.

BTW, as our diplomacy is a bit of a hijack, perhaps we could make it go fast?

Ic: Yet again, all of the Kazeci transmissions were 'full'.
Perhaps you haven't looked out a view port, Jacen, but this ship, like all of our heavy battle carriers, has got some massive bays. It'll accommodate your transport just fine. We do ask, however, that once it arrives it allows our systems to guide it to a docking point.
Food? Certainly! We like food!
S.I.N Enchantress, we are the K.N.S. SharNevar, others present are the Valerae of Theao, Nautical Nausea of CoreWorlds, and a task force lead by You and who's army? from Taldaan. All of us are hear on missions of peaceful investigation of the signal. Before we begin joint efforts in this investigation, we have agreed to diplomatic talks aboard my vessel. You're invited to join.
The huge bay doors opened leisurely and revealed the gaping bay, waiting to receive diplomats.

ooc: EDIT: ND, I don't mind if you join, but it's not really up to me.

Jen waited for the Commodores next move, they seemed to be honest enough, but one didnt rise to become an officer in the Imperial Navy without some misgivings. "Commodore what shall i send as a reply?" Harlan frowned for a moment or so, before replying. "Roger that, We will dispatch a Diplomatic Shuttle in 10 SOL Standard Minutes." As Jen sent the Transmission, Harlan stared out at the ship that had sent the transmission, this could be a trap, but his Science officer had detected no life signs, or signs of recent battle upon the planet. For the moment he was willing to believe these people, after all the ships were all of various configurations, he doubted whether this was some 'Alien Invasion Force' "Jen I want you with me on this, and i also want 2 Imperial Marines sent down to the hangar bay as well, they might be telling the truth but then again..." Jennifer nodded and sent the requisite message to the security center.

OOC: ND, the more the merrier, but I've already got what you find on the gronud planned out. (There's a really big hint in the OP). Like Kazecistan said, the diplomacy is a bit of a hijack. So make it quick, not that there's any urgency for you to hit the ground - I have all the time in the world.

Each of the guests' transports was tractored gently to a landing or docking point within they bay upon their arrival. Each was then greeted by an officer in dress uniform and lead to a conference room. The Kazecis welcomed guards, but provided none of their own, they felt plenty safe on board their own ship, with its internal containment, suppression, and defence systems. Bryce stood in the conference room and greeted them as they entered.

ooc: little fast track for a minimum of hijack.

Alexander got off the Valerae and followed the guards to the center.

Commodore Harlan Straightened his Uniform Jacket as the 2 marines stepped off the shuttle ahead of him, he looked over at Jen, and put his Peaked Cap on, before motioning for them to proceed to the center.

Following STL Transmission received, identified as distress call, and rebroadcast FTL by unmanned reconnaissance probe. Unable to triangulate exact origin, estimated 10 to 15 years ago in Sector B11e25g. Sent out on all FTL channels, no scrambling to all listeners.

This is Human Colony *Ksshsshk* we are under attack by unknown alien species. They’ve blocked hyper-transmissions, so I’m sending this…I only hope somebody hears it in time. There’s at least *Kssshssshk* capital ships, and overwhelming *Kssshssshk* on ground. There are over sixty million of us here. You’ve got to send help. *Kssshssshk* They’re about to take my transmitter facility. Again, this is Human Colony Ber*ksshk*, send help. If you’re close enough to pick this up in time, you’ll know where we are. No time for exact coordinates.

Message repeats once again, followed by gunfire and silence. Damaged video feed is being processed for stills. Recommend sending scout ship to investigate sectors B11e25g, B11e25h and B12e25g.

---
On a nearly-forgotten human colony, partially decomposed, mummified corpses lay face down in neat rows. Over 60 million men women and children, executed in the streets of Bershan’s towns. There were no survivors of the five week conflict, and the alien menace left none of their own dead behind.

OOC: Short post, but just to get my foot in. After the reply, I'll send my shuttle over ASAP to get the diplomacy part finished.

IC:

A Zaitsev II ISD was patrolling the area nearby when it got the signal. By now, the transmission was sure to be out-of-date, but to the crew, it was a signal that needed some kind of response.

Thus, the captain ordered them to move in closer. The Zaitsev went into warp, and appeared next to several foreign ships who evidently got the same message.

The captain then said, "Identify those ships."

THe helmsman said, "Gracie's got a match. She says they're of known Kazeci, Coredian, and Theao models."

The captain then milled the situation over, and said, "Hail the Coredians. Perhaps they can tell us what's going on."

A hail went out to the Coredian ships-

"Coredian vessels, this is the New Dornalian People's Navy Ship Temasek. We are here because of a distress signal from the planet below. What is your status?"

"Coredian vessels, this is the New Dornalian People's Navy Ship Temasek. We are here because of a distress signal from the planet below. What is your status?"
"We're here for the same reason." The second-in-command, Tim Murphy (no relation to the Jurassic Park kid) replied. "There's a little diplomacy going on at the Kazeci ship.

----

Jacen arrived at the conference room with his 'protocol droid' and greeted everyone important on board.

The Taldaani diplomatic party was probably the most unusual on the Kazeci ship. Led by You and Who's Army?, still in his AttackBot guise, he was followed by a simulacrum of each of the other Minds in the fleet. As was customary most of them were in naval costume, although Aggressive Negotiations had decided to appear as a scantily clad and beautiful young woman, reasoning that a good first impression could go a long way. You and Who's Army? greeted Bryce as they entered the room, bowing slightly, although he left the handshake to Aggressive Negotiations for the twin reasons of reinforcing his first impressions and avoiding severing any fingers.

Communicating amongst themselves over tightbeam channels between the ships rather than using the simulacrums, they came to the consensus that the meeting would probably be fairly boring. The outcome was essentially already decided: the groups would make a co-operative investigation of the system. Still, it would be the decision that was best for the mission, and therefore the Taldaani Minds would try not to rock the boat.

OOC: Is that Cultureverse, Taldaan?

Bryce looked around and spoke. "Now that we're all here, we can begin. It only makes sense that when we have this many nations with as much influence as we have, that we start off agreeing to nonaggression. We have a pre-fab nonaggression treaty ready to go, there's nothing surprising in it, just stock stuff, but feel free to request changes or additions." The wonders of Kazeci technology placed a holographic document before each of them. It had the ability to officiate nonaggression with each of the nations involved.

__________________________________________________________
Signing on the following lines indicates that you and your government agree to the contract of nonaggression outlined above with the nation whom your signature lies next to.

CoreWorlds: ____________X
Kazecistan: ____________X
Soloriel: _______________X
Taldaan: ______________X
Theao: _______________X

"Nifty." Jacen commented, and signed the document.

Jacen Masaki is a young Jedi Knight about 18 years of age. He has brown hair and blue eyes and wears a short-sleeved white shirt and light khaki pants over a long-sleeved navy wet-suit. Not to menton no-toe shoes. His lightsaber is blue-green owing to a gemstone he found while swimming at Mon Calamari. In effect, he looks every inch the Water Knight he is.

http://www.ninjasofthenight.com/hiro2k/elfen_lied/kouta.jpg

Alexander looked over the document, searching for any 'irregularities' as he wouldn't put much past the Kazeci.

He stretched and pushed back his fairly long black hair to reveal purple eyes. He shrugged his shoulders and went back to reading the NAP.

You and Who's Army? checks and double-checks each clause in minute detail, exploring every possible nuance of each word, sentence, and phrase. Eventually he shrugs and signs on the dotted line, reasoning that its probably best to get the conference over quickly so that work can begin.

Bryce observed the others. There was nothing in the document that could lead to alarm or ill-will, so their reactions could tell him a lot. On the outside, he was a normal Kazeci. He appeared young and hopeful, innocent of any conception that the universe was anything but some sugar-coated version of paradise. Very intelligent, but somewhat naive. Short, light brown hair and hazel eyes adorned his face, which looked as if it had an angular base but had been smoothed over to a soft finish. He wore the traditional Kazeci diplomatic robes, several earthen tones coloring the liberally applied layers of fabric, and bore a ceremonial six foot white-silver staff which was engraves with many intricate etchings. On the inside, however, Bryce had so much more. Despite the fact that he was in his twenties, he had been in diplomatic training for the equivalent of nearly 20 years (virtual reality can teach the mind at advanced speeds). He picked up on the smallest behaviours and analyzed them. Every thing their guests did, he observed and analyzed, constantly calculating their truthfulness and intent. He could nearly predict what each was thinking. Yet, on the outside he gave no hint of this activity.

Alexander was amusingly predictable. Theao and Kazecistan crossed paths in open space often, but had never really become too friendly.

He replied to Jacen, "Quite nifty. It's very useful in situations like this."

Commodore Harlan Looked the document over once before signing it, Looking around at the other representatives here, he wondered what the hell was going on, and an expression of distaste crossed his face, at the idea of being bound into a contract with a race he had never dealt with before. Settling down, he adjusted his Dress Uniform, of black material and straightened his Officers Peak Cap. He stood at about 6ft tall, and like the rest of his race they were very slender and fine boned. His deep blue eyes seemed to bely a sense of childlike wonder, with everything he saw. His skin was paler than normal, but not extensively so. and his smooth black hair was neatly cropped beneath his cap. He had a young looking face, and fine firm jawline. His entire being radiated a sense of composure, and grace.

Problem. Bryce thought, as he read the Soloriel representative. There was nothing wrong with the 'what' of the pact, so something had to be wrong with the 'who'. Kazecistan had done nothing to cause ill will, and they didn't have to sign with any other nation if they didn't want to. They had never even met before, how could there be ill will? That was it. They hadn't met. The Kazecis are a good people, and they needed to know that. Damn it, they missed their chance for a tour of the ship, those are always good for that- show off their appreciation for nature and art. Ha! He'd get them on their way out. Still, his type would want a 'bond', to work side-by-side, before trusting. Their joint efforts should do that. All this and his expression didn't change. He could hide far stronger thoughts, this was really nothing.

Alexander finished reading the document, and signed it. He then leaned back and started, "About that food..."

Bryce smiled. "I thought when we were done here we would eat in the gardens, if that's alright with everybody."

Harlan Looked over at at jen, "Well then Lieutenant, shall we?" Jen flashed a look at him, one full of concern and wonder, Harlan shook his head almost impercebtibly, his sign for we'll talk later Jen nodded at him and used his full rank when addressing him. "Yes High Commodore, i believe that will be amenable." Harlan looked Bryce in the eyes "Were ready when you are gentleman." And gestured for the two marines to join them.

"We're here for the same reason." The second-in-command, Tim Murphy (no relation to the Jurassic Park kid) replied. "There's a little diplomacy going on at the Kazeci ship.


The captain then said, "Acknowleged."

The captain then said, "Helmsman, assemble a Marine officer to go with me. I need my dress blues."

After changing and getting an officer to go with him, he then boarded a Gagarin shuttle and manuevered close to the Kazeci ship, requesting permission to enter and "participate in the ongoing events possibly concerning the situation below."

Bryce made a quick glance down and reaffirmed that each party had signed the document before standing up and speaking. "If everyone's ready, we'll depart for the gardens."

((EDIT: posted at same time.))

A runner entered the room, bowing his head before he spoke. "Sir, the New Dornalia party has just arrived, they're requesting to join you."
"Bring them to the gardens, we'll meet them there."

"Oh alright." Alexander replied with a false pout that disappeared after a second, it only serving to make an effect.

Bryce made a quick glance down and reaffirmed that each party had signed the document before standing up and speaking. "If everyone's ready, we'll depart for the gardens."

((EDIT: posted at same time.))

A runner entered the room, bowing his head before he spoke. "Sir, the New Dornalia party has just arrived, they're requesting to join you."
"Bring them to the gardens, we'll meet them there."

OOC: Speeding things up (hope this works).

IC:

The Captain and his officer guard landed, and then met the Kazeci delegation at the gardens....the Captain then said, "Greetings. Sorry about the intrusion, but we did recieve the same distress signal as you did; thus we had to respond. I am Comrade Captain Mbutu of the People's Navy."

Alexander got up and headed down to the garden, he was hoping that there was a decent spread as he really was quite hungry.

ooc: Good! Good. The art of crappy abbreviated RPing is taking hold of us all! MUHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! I mean, um....

Ic: "And I am Bryce, diplomat of Kazecistan. Welcome aboard. Please, follow me." He motioned to the entire group as he lead them across the gardens, which were perhaps a hundred meters long and forty wide. An artificial sky was clear overhead while everything on the ground was real, from the trees to the ponds and waterfalls. Birds chirped and a few of the ship's cats slept in the sun. Waterfalls could be heard splashing into the streams and ponds. He led them across a wooden bridge to an island in one of the biggest ponds, on which sat a gazebo. Benches lined the inside of the gazebo and a table sat in the middle. Each received a thick paper menu of ingredients and cooking styles from which to create a meal- or desert, as the case with some may be.

Bryce spoke again once each had made their selections. "Captain Mbutu, since you are behind- through no fault of your own- I think now would be an excellent time to bring you up to speed so that we may relax and not worry about business for the remainder of the meal. Each party here has signed this," He activated the holographic document again, "nonaggression pact with each other. Feel free to read it over and suggest anything, it's all pretty stock stuff- nothing you should find surprising. Aside from that, we've also agreed to work together to investigate what happened here. I hope you are willing to join our joint venture?"

Bryce spoke again once each had made their selections. "Captain Mbutu, since you are behind- through no fault of your own- I think now would be an excellent time to bring you up to speed so that we may relax and not worry about business for the remainder of the meal. Each party here has signed this," He activated the holographic document again, "nonaggression pact with each other. Feel free to read it over and suggest anything, it's all pretty stock stuff- nothing you should find surprising. Aside from that, we've also agreed to work together to investigate what happened here. I hope you are willing to join our joint venture?"

Mbutu read the NAP, and said, "I have no objections."

He then signed it, and said, "Right. I can work with the assembled party. After all, circumstances dictate that is the best option..."

He then said to Bryce, chuckling slightly, "...after all, I am behind through no fault of my own, as you said. And, I have Marines, but they would do better with the assembled."

Mbutu then sat down at the table inside the gazebo, and then said, looking at the menu, "Gentlemen, ladies."

Harlan was stunned at the sight surrounding him, and for a moment his bearing was noticeably rocked. He pulled himself back together and signaled to his small party to settle down, and order some food. Turning to Jen he mumbled in her ear "Jen i want you to keep an eye on our new 'Friends', note down everything that seems odd or out of place here, i need you to be my eyes and ears whilst i attend to this meeting." Jen nodded and smiled as Harlan pulled back with a smile on his face as well, as though making some small joke. Nodding to the marines to follow closely, he nodded with approval at the way they had composed themselves thus far. And returning his attention to Bryce, studied the others around this table carefully.

Alexander smiled and began creating exceptionally wierd combos of food stuffs. He listened with half a ear as he began trying to deplete the larders of the ship.

Alexander smiled and began creating exceptionally wierd combos of food stuffs. He listened with half a ear as he began trying to deplete the larders of the ship.

Mbutu ordered his food, and hoped for something appetizing. Less appetizing was the suspicious behavior of the people who seemed to perk up when he came by. This he did not need.

Mbutu then leaned over and asked Alexander, "Who are those people over there?" (referring to the Soloriel delgates).

He looked over as he was addressed, "I'm not sure, but likely another group that came to investigate the distress becon, why?"

He looked over as he was addressed, "I'm not sure, but likely another group that came to investigate the distress becon, why?"

Mbutu replied with a slight sigh, "They got shifty after I entered...and when that happens, generally, it's not good."

Harlan Half listened to the conversations floating around the table, as he prepared himself something to eat, and whilst his hands were busy and he seemed to be engrossed in what he was doing, his eyes carefully studied the others around the table. He did not trust them yet, and likely never would, Centurys of isolation had caused the Solorians to develop an almost crippling distrust of other civilisations. As he leaned back to eat his food he contemplated his next course of action. Currently he was onboard an unknown partys ship, likely surrounded by large numbers of weapons and surveillance devices, and without a doubt he was being studied just as much as he was studying them. A troubled look crossed his face for a moment as he considered this.

Harlan Half listened to the conversations floating around the table, as he prepared himself something to eat, and whilst his hands were busy and he seemed to be engrossed in what he was doing, his eyes carefully studied the others around the table. He did not trust them yet, and likely never would, Centurys of isolation had caused the Solorians to develop an almost crippling distrust of other civilisations. As he leaned back to eat his food he contemplated his next course of action. Currently he was onboard an unknown partys ship, likely surrounded by large numbers of weapons and surveillance devices, and without a doubt he was being studied just as much as he was studying them. A troubled look crossed his face for a moment as he considered this.

Mbutu didn't know this, and sighed, saying, "Well, guess I'll have to relax and focus on the meal then. No need to make a mess..."

He then began eating, sampling the food. It was different, but tasted pretty good. As he ate, he swallowed and then said to the Jedi there, "Do we know anything about what's happening below? Or is the signal all we have to go on?"

Bryce wasn't one for 'real' food, having eaten a rather large breakfast already, but there was something about chocolate that appealed to him at the moment. He ordered a rather large hot fudge brownie and thick whipped cream, a combination that quickly took him to heaven, and he let it show. What he didn't let show, however, was his concern over the Soloriel delegates. They were rather antisocial and seemed pressed into being 'friendly'. He noticed that others picked up on it too. They've got nothing to fear here. It's those damn xenophobic cultures, they bread it into their people. Time to make an honest effort. He thought to himself with disgust. He was reluctant to be in that situation, but it was his job. He innocently asked across the table, "So what do you think of our gardens, Harlan?"

Harlan looked at bryce and an expression of suprise briefly crossed his face, "Impressive Bryce....Very Impressive." He decided that for the moment he had best make an effort, to try and get along with this race, the others certainly seemed to respect them. If they didnt then what were they doing allowing themselves to be brought to this place? He let a genuine smile spread slowly across his face as he looked up at the sky above, so like his homeworld, and then images flashed through his mind, of screams and blood, and fire. and he closed his eyes against the pain. Opening them again he attempted to restore his composure, before continuing. "This place reminds me of my homeworld, before the... war." Sighing he reached for what he hoped was a glass of water, and sipped at it slowly an expression of grief flashing across his features as he drank.

ooc: Alright, unless anyone had anything 'big' planned, I think we ought to finish up our hijacking.

Alexander, now that his belly was filled, decided to go speak with the host. Walking over, he commented, "Now that that's settled, how about we all return to our vessels and see about that distress call, hmm?"

"Sounds good." Bryce responded. Then he spoke louder, for all to hear. "I suggest we each send down a small party to the same location, to get things started off."

"Sounds good." Bryce responded. Then he spoke louder, for all to hear. "I suggest we each send down a small party to the same location, to get things started off."

Mbutu said, "Hear hear. I will send a platoon of Marines via transporter."

Harlan looked up now that the topic of conversation had swung round to deployment. He considered his options for the moment, as far as he knew the situation was not dangerous enough to consider using Imperial Agents, But perhaps a platoon of Imperial Marines would suffice for now. Clearing his throat he spoke up, "I will order the deployment of 1 Platoon of Imperial Marines via Orbital Drop Ship." He sat back awaiting everyone elses replys.

"Platoons? Alright..." Bryce was supprised at the show of force, but let the issue go. Kazecistan was sending a bit less.

"I guess me and Valerae will heading down as well." Alexander replied

Harlan had tuned out of the conversation, already formulating plans for the upcoming drop, deciding on equipment and men. He was tempted to deploy an Assault Mecha, but dismissed the Idea as soon as it entered his head. His mind worked furiously as he continued to fine tune the aspects of the platoon to be sent, when he was sure that he had managed to get all the details covered he stood up. Noding to Bryce he spoke loudly enough for everyone here to hear him "Mr. Bryce, I would like to thank you for your hospitality, but I feel that I should retire to my ship, to begin preparing my men for deployment." Glancing over at Jen he noticed the Approval in her eyes. "Do I have your permission to leave?"

"My permission? You and your party are free to depart at any time. I'm sorry if we made you feel otherwise." He nodded to one of the runners in the garden, signaling for him to lead them out. "The man has a good idea, perhaps we should all go back to our ships and prepare for departure. Not that I'm forcing anyone to leave-"

The Taldaani delegation had gone to the gardens, although being simulacra they were incapable of eating. However, they listened to the conversation with interest and were surprised to learn how few troops the other parties were sending to the surface. The Taldaani had come expecting a full-blown rescue operation, and their dropships contained around eight-hundred combat soldiers supported by transport vehicles, tanks, light artillery, and engineering vehicles.

The small complements being deployed by the other nations could mean several things. Either they had come woefully unprepared, they used abnormally large platoons, they were keeping their troops in space to defend against boarding actions, or they used some kind of supersoldier. The third was seen as a potential problem; a lack of trust could cause problems on the ground, as forces would likely have to use concerted strategy in any combat or search and rescue situation. The fourth was deemed unlikely. The Taldaani troops, while not army-slaying juggernauts, were both biologically and mechanically enhanced through the use of genetics and nanomachinery, and the government had still seen fit to deploy a large number to the area.

It was decided to deploy all of the landing force. A smaller force would be inefficient, and as the sentient warships carried no crew there would be no way for a boarding force to take over or sabotage a ship.

"Mr Bryce, I thank you for your hospitality but we must leave. We will deploy ground forces as soon as is possible."

With those words, the entire Taldaani delegation winked out of existence, the fields dissipating.

OOC: close enough, and I won't have broadband access for the next few days...

Scenes of carnage greeted the explorers as they entered the atmosphere of the colony. In its capital city, which had previously housed over ten million civilians, the violence was most visible. Shattered defense rings surrounded the city, its central shield generator having long ago exploded from overloading. Though weeds and rust disguised what had happened, any observer could see that the once-proud and wealthy burg had been completely crushed by a mysterious military power. Hulks of light armored vehicles littered the outer roads, and in the first dozen blocks, there were signs of house-to-house fighting. Those houses that had not been smashed by artillery and orbital bombardment. Burnt-out and rusted cars were scattered along the roads, as families fleeing toward the central spaceport had been overtaken. The closer to the city center, the grimmer the appearance of what had happened to the former denizens of this emptied planet.

Bodies now appeared more frequently, like the citizen-soldiers manning the outer defenses, they were only partially decomposed, dried-out mummies. But the fate of these helpless people was grimmer. People were shot in the back while fleeing, mostly with explosive rounds. Even young children’s bodies were to be fond blown asunder by large anti-infantry ordinance. The most gruesome sight, enough even to make hardened veterans look away was to be found in the landing field of the spaceport. Seven-and-a-half million naked bodies were lined up in orderly rows, each executed with a shot to the head, the 4mm holes seeming twice as large on the shriveled corpses of years past.

The same thing had happened in every major city, and in ranch homes families and servants had been dragged to courtyards and shot. In the caves, to which parts of the military had retreated, uniformed bodies were frozen in positions of agony, where they had died of poison gas. Nowhere on the entire planet was there to suggest that a single person had survived the ferocious blow dealt to a small colony in the middle of nowhere.

What lent most to the eerie feeling of the dead planet, especially in the outer areas of cities where there were few corpses, was the lack of any aggressor. All the battlefield remains, all the ruined vehicles, every speck of gore spattered on the city streets was identifiably human. It was as if a magic eraser had come through and removed every trace of one half of the war. But the most terrible sight of all was left to those who had the heart to examine the dead bodies: the scientific removal of genetic material from those who had been in their reproductive prime.

"Yeah, I'm heading down too." Jacen said, after eating a small meal. He headed back to the Nautical Nausea with his droid and then ordered the crovette to head down to the planet.

Jacen's eyes widened as he saw for himself the carnage done unto the human colony. "Who the hell could have done this?"

"Spectulation: Someone who has a majer grudge against human meatbags, perhaps?" Niner asked, now returned to his normal status.

"Yeah. A war...but with no survivors? It's a slaughter." Jacen sighed. He wasn't as used to warfare as his elder cousins were, and it showed. The corvette landed on the planet, and the crew moved into high alert as thw Jedi, the droid and two soldiers headed out to investigate further. "But there's something odd about the bodies."

"Sir, there's no sign of any enemy casualties." One of the soldiers frowned.

"Yeah, that's what I thought." Jacen answered. An unknown enemy, leaving nothing but the bodies of their victims and the almost-dissipated psychic aura of death in the air. How can we face what we don't even have evidence of?

Bryce spoke alone with the captain after the delegates had all left. "Most are bringing large forces, platoons, and it seemed as if the Taldaani were going to send a lot more."
"Do you think we should follow suit?"
"We have to, if we're out numbered and one of them turns on us-" Bryce trailed off.
"Didn't you just drag them all into a nonaggression pact?"
"As if that has any meaning out here? If any of them has sinister intent, they won't care to honor a contract not yet ratified by their government."
"Then we'll make a greater presence. But I'm not sending any more troops. We're aboard a carrier and it only makes sense to make use of our air assets. We'll unload our bays onto that planet."
"A significant air presence should scare the s*** out of any ground force without one. It will ensure our safety and perhaps get the job done better. Overall a good plan."

Within half an hour they were ready. Hundreds of small craft poured out of each of the two massive bay openings, one on each side of the ship. The crescent shaped light drone fighters (LDF) sped past the slower and boxy-er heavy drone fighters (HDF), who kept pace with the sleek, double-hulled drone bombers (DB). They came flooding onto the planet, pealing from their descent and leveling off like water dropped onto a ball. They each had a patrol pattern and together they would soon have low-level surveillance over the entire planet. They did, however, manage to keep a rather strong presence in the area where the other nation's troops were. They were followed shortly by ground assault transports (GAT), elongated 'T' shaped craft which have several very visible plasma turrets mounted on each side. These were the most deadly craft for those on the ground, they were designed to clear a hostile area with force before inserting troops. Most didn't land, but of those that did, one deployed 100 troops and the other three each dropped off 14 vehicles, mostly transports.

Among the troops deployed, Katie stood out. Her uniform was different, much darker, it had a good deal of black on it compared to the olive and tan of the rest of the troops. She, as every other soldier, bore a 6' white-silver staff with intricate etchings all over it. The same as the one Bryce had had at the meeting. Her black hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail that came midway down the back of her 5' 5" Asian-Caucasian body. "Pile in!" she called to her troops, not in the tone of an order, but that of a friend-made-leader. She got onto a hover bike and sped toward the Cordians. The APCs followed.

Alexander and the Avatar for the Valerae had looked over the carnage with a dispassionate glance. What, or whoever had done this was methodical though in many cases appeared to be slightly inefficiant.

The Taldaani gunship swooped around two hundred metres above the ground, using its height advantage to scan the landscape below. Vectored thruster pods fired and swivelled, keeping the heavy vehicle airborne and moving south from the atmospheric entry point at around 100km/h. Although it was capable of far higher speeds the idea was not to miss anything. Not that there was much to miss. Although radar picked up large constructed habitats, passive infra-red sensors showed that there was no indigenous life present. The world was essentially dead.

Sitting in the starboard weapons pod was Keiran Matlock, wishing fervently that something would happen. The recruitment poster back on Vasco da Gama Station had promised him a career filled with swashbuckling adventure and romance. Now he was stuck in a polymer and steel-alloy bubble two-hundred metres above solid ground with only a headset radio and a 35mm railgun for company. He lay back in the chair that was supposed to mould to his body that didn't and decided to do some sightseeing with the zoom sight.

What he saw made him immediately flick the headset on.

"Skipper, theres bodies everywhere. On the ground. Small cluster of them about ten degrees starboard."
"Okay, Matlock. Maintain visual contact. I'm streaming your gunsight footage to Command."


The landings, meanwhile, where going well. The dropships had all landed without any problems, and men and machines were disembarking. Mechanised infantry were already forming a loose perimeter around the landing site. However, the most significant thing so far was one of the infantry squads stumbling on one of the mummified corpses. The body had immediately been sent back to the ladning site for inspection by medical crews, although the cause of death was fairly obviously the wound in its back.

Among the troops deployed, Katie stood out. Her uniform was different, much darker, it had a good deal of black on it compared to the olive and tan of the rest of the troops. She, as every other soldier, bore a 6' white-silver staff with intricate etchings all over it. The same as the one Bryce had had at the meeting. Her black hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail that came midway down the back of her 5' 5" Asian-Caucasian body. "Pile in!" she called to her troops, not in the tone of an order, but that of a friend-made-leader. She got onto a hover bike and sped toward the Cordians. The APCs followed.
Jacen waved them over. "Over here!"

And it's Coredian. Coredians take slight at that mispelling.

-snip-

Mbutu then went back to his ship along with his escort, and then rustled up the Marine platoon, with two Kurosawa II suits and a Jose Marti tank, in case.

The Platoon found the sight utterly disgusting. They had seen the pictures in the history books, they had had fathers describe Post-Apocalyptic ruins, but nothing prepared them for this. Some had to hold back vomiting.

Mbutu then said, tersely, "Get yourselves together."

The men, having gotten their wits back, examined the sights. Dead men, women children. Nobody survived. It was as if Ghengis Khan had visited the area.

The medic looked at one of the bodies, and began examining it. Headshot, cause of death.

Mbutu mumbled to himself softly, "Hell of a way to go..."

Katie pulled up next to the Coredians, nearly laying down her hover bike to slow down. There might have been a bit of a tail swish to the move as well, but that would mean she was having fun. "Set this area as a rally point for the local teams"
"Yes ma’m." He went off to call the other nations' teams to gather at that point, so that they may work together.

Katie turned to Jacen and almost spoke, but then she saw the carnage. They had landed in an open plain, but now they were on the outskirts of a city. She couldn't help but stare, her mouth slightly open, totally stunned.

The APCs began to pull up a dozen meters off. A man approached her. "Ma'm, we're getting reports in from our air recognizance that it's a pretty gruesome sight. No signs of survivors, civilians and military all executed. They say it's pretty methodical, all of the bodies lined up in rows. Another thing, there have been no reports of anything left behind by the attackers, no damaged vehicles, no bodies, nothing."
"Thank you, Corporal." Her gaze didn't move to seek his eyes, so he followed it and looked upon the slaughter for the first time. Reports never seemed real, they were just words, but this? His stomach wasn't sure if it could take this.

Composing himself, Jacen turned to Katie. "I wonder if there's some recording of what happened. News reports and such. Perhaps we could learn what happened from them."

"I guess it all depends on how through the unknown attackers were." Alexander commented as he and a breath-taking young woman walked up behind Jacen.

"I guess it all depends on how through the unknown attackers were." Alexander commented as he and a breath-taking young woman walked up behind Jacen.

A medic said, "Boss, you may want to see this."

Mbutu then said, "What is it?" following the medic.

Later, the medic showed him a gruesome discovery, pointing to a series of bodies that he had been looking at. He then said, "My scans indicate they're missing large, almost perfectly cut chunks of material. It's almost like they wanted to extract it for some purpose that I don't really wanna know about. It's god-awful...."

Mbutu said, "Anything else?"

The man said, "Only that they seem to be mid-to-late 20's. I can't tell though, graves detachment will have to deal with a real autopsy."

Mbutu then said, "You may call down a medical team. Get to the bottom of this."

Mbutu in turn then appeared behind Alexander, saying, "I can say this much. They were hell-bent on murdering every man, woman, and child here, and got that part done. Methodical, with headshots. And one of my men found something that you should see...."

"What've they found?" The woman asked in an charming voice.

"What've they found?" The woman asked in an charming voice.

Mbutu then said, grimly, "One medic inspecting a group of bodies found that large amounts of material had been almost surgically removed from them. Deliberately. I'm calling a medical team down to investigate further, but this is alarming."

"Mind pointing out on of the altered bodies?" Alexander asked, "We may be able to save your med team a trip."

"Mind pointing out on of the altered bodies?" Alexander asked, "We may be able to save your med team a trip."

Mbutu then led Alexander to one of the bodies, and had the medic point out the parts that were mutilated. The medic explained what he found, and showed his scans to Alex.

The woman took the scans from Alex, and looked them over, "I think I'll do my own exam." So saying she walked over to the body and placed her hand over the mutilated parts, and began humming.

The woman took the scans from Alex, and looked them over, "I think I'll do my own exam." So saying she walked over to the body and placed her hand over the mutilated parts, and began humming.

Mbutu and the medic wondered what was going to happen next. Meanwhile, Mbutu then said to the medical team on his communicator, "You might not have to come down just yet."

"It appears they went after this one's gonads, was healthy and lacking in any genetic recessives." She commented after about a minute of this odd examination.

"It appears they went after this one's gonads, was healthy and lacking in any genetic recessives." She commented after about a minute of this odd examination.

Mbutu found this disgusting yet almost darkly, sickly hilarious.

"They castrated him? Good Lord."

The medic then said, "Well, I took Basic Bio in high school. But you don't need that to know that's where you keep the gene-seed, as it were."

Mbutu then said, "Though tasteless, you may be onto something. Perhaps they wanted genetic material? That's the only reason I can sanely think of why anybody would want to deprive the poor fellow of his gonads."

"Could you show me a female victem of aproximately similar biological age, to see if they, as you put it, castrated her as well." She replied

"Could you show me a female victem of aproximately similar biological age, to see if they, as you put it, castrated her as well." She replied

The medic then coughed and pointed to one of the females he had examined. He then said, "Here's one of the one's I just began to examine."

She preformed a similar examination on the female, and came back with a similar verdict: Healthy, genetically clean, missing her gonads.

Sergeant Kail looked out of the window as the dropship carrying his men screamed into the atmosphere. Initial scans of the planet indicated nothing left alive down here, but all the same they werent taking any chances. Looking around at his platoon, he noted that they were all engrossed in checking weapons and equipment, ensuring they were ready. The two doctors assigned to them for this mission were likewise engaged, looking over supplys and ensuring that everything was as it should be. As the dropship neared its target the pilot came in over the loudspeaker. "Attention guys were coming in fast, ETA 2 minutes, also scans show that the other races have deployed ground forces into the area, remember not to let your guard down guys." Kail smiled to himself slightly as he listened to the pilot, new guy it seemed. "Alright men you know your orders, i want you to break into two squads of ten, well sweep the grid co'ordinates piece by piece and i want no stone unturned. Kapellan, Willits stay close to your squads, theyll protect you in case of anything kicking off down there, and dont wander off alone, we have no idea how hostile this situation is." The two medics nodded at him as he finished speaking. At least these two dont seem as stupid as our last ones Kail thought to himself. As he secured his helmet into place he slapped an energy pack into his rifle, the reassuring hum told him that he was suited and booted and ready to go. As the small craft landed in what appeared to be a courtyard for some building, the doors slid open and the men jogged out, spreading into a semi-circle around the craft whilst they made sure there were no immediate threats. Satisfied that there didnt seem to be anything wrong, the men spread out, Kail gave them their orders. "Alright 1st Squad on me 2nd squad move out, you find something wrong radio it back." Kail led his squad away from the drop zone and began his search.

As the troops spread out from the building Kail and his men encountered the first of the dead. These men were no strangers to death and destruction, they had brough plenty of it to the enemys of the Emperor, but they were still shocked and disgusted at the amount of terrible mutilations performed upon these people. "Willits take two men and take back 2 bodys to the Dropship, male and female if possible, seal them in the death caskets, tell the Pilot to take them back to the Enchantress for immediate Autopsy." Willits nodded, his face unreadable behind his armoured visage. Kail looked around at the scenes of devastation surrounding them, and steeled his gut. He had a feeling they were going to Encounter a lot more of this. As soon as Willits and the 2 men from his squad had set off toward the Dropship Kail and his men began the search for some sort of official building, anything which may contain a visual record of what happened here. But one thought kept nagging at the back of his thoughts Why havent we found any of the attackers bodys yet?

She preformed a similar examination on the female, and came back with a similar verdict: Healthy, genetically clean, missing her gonads.

Mbutu simply shook his head. This was clearly a force that wanted genetic material, by hook or by crook.

OOC: This really sums up everything I could have wanted from this Intro RP. If you want to keep it going, someone send a scout into the nearby nebula. I'm willing to expand deeper into my nefarious plans via a face-to-face meeting... but the segment on the ground is pretty much finished (we've done slaughter, and the birth was only going to be hinted at, but I can go into details if you want).

"Well it appears we've found out what. As to why that appears to be found somewhere else. I'd suggest the various nations that came looking keep in touch if they find out anything, but otherwise each goes it's seperate ways." Alexander commented

"Yeah, that's a good idea." Jacen said, making a mental note to have the Council initiate an orbital-bombardment funeral pyre for this colony. He wondered where could they hope to find out anything of their potential foes...

Katie received a comm from her ship. "Pull out. The flights have all come back and there's nothing but slaughter down there. A few oddities, but those have been documented. We're going to do a quick search of nearby space for traces of the attackers then head home." It was played out loud for all to hear, so she need but say goodbye and depart, that she did. Kazeci forces pulled off of the planet and flooded back into the ship's bays.

The New Dornalians did the same. Collecting their men and the research, Mbutu said, "My friends, I believe our work is done here...for now. I must bid you good day."

He and the Marines beamed up, and left...

bump

Jacen, Niner and the two Marines headed back to the Nautical Nausea and it quickly lifted off. But before Jacen could initiate hyperspace procedures, a nudge in the Force made him look at the Ghost Nebula, as if there was something there that needed to be checked out.

"Tim. Boot up a probe droid." Jacen ordered.

"Will do. What for?" Tim asked.

"I have a feeling..." Jacen said, still looking at the nebula. "Shoot it towards the Ghost Nebula."

"All right." Tim said, though he muttered something about 'you Jedi and your abilities' and shook his head.

Soon, to Niner's questioning queries, a probe droid was launched from the cargo bay of the Nausea and flew towards the nebula, all sorts of instruments activated and searching for anything...

Shortly after their return to their bay home, a dozen LDFs left again to scout the surrounding area. 2 headed toward the nebula, the rest dispersed in all directions in space, beginning search patterns.

Deep in the thick green and black fog of the Ghost Nebula, a reactor warmed itself. It had waited twelve long years for any signs of life to return to nearby space, and now the long-dormant ship flared into life. Its primitive onboard computer struggled to read through the logs of its sensor data, only now receiving enough power to run its logic circuits. After an interminable period, it reached its inevitable conclusion, the one that it had been programmed to do since its very construction. It sent a signal- one fast, powerful burst. It said nothing of importance; it only announced its continued existence to those with the ears to hear it. A group whose numbers had been steadily falling for the past twelve years.
But across the vast reaches of interstellar space, things stirred. No human could ever put word to the thoughts that slipped through such alien minds when they caught hold of this fragile message. No person would ever want to know what deep hatred smoldered beneath smooth black carapaces. And no human person would ever fully understand the delicacies of politics that had created such vile hatred.
In dozens of cruel alien minds, memories of betrayal and hatred welled to the surface when this specter of the past announced itself. And the desire to crush, to destroy was once again brought to the forefront of every free-thinking recipient of this message. Across untold light-years, communication lines, long previously fallen silent sparked into new life. In dozens of systems, factories were turned from tractors to tanks. And in ten identical capital ships, small councils met to determine the fate of billions. Alliances were reforged, and warships were slipped from their berths. Within eleven Earth-hours of the arrival of the human fleets near the Ghost Nebula, a new specter of death would move once again into the galaxy.

One more listener heard the cry of the sensor pod. One that had a memory for the ages. One that held grudges reaching back hundreds of years. One that waited on the edges of the web of hatred, waiting for his chance to strike his fury, wreaking vengeance upon all those who had long ago betrayed him and driven from his home. His hatred was not toward all other species. Indeed, he liked his adoptive children, his battle-brothers, and those who had in recent years sworn allegiance to his vision of a better future. It was only the cruel, pink flesh of humanity that he yearned to smell burn. This was the Shadow Lord, the Hidden Master, the Mighty Admiral, the Blood Drinker. He had known what he was doing when he made his allegiances twelve years ago. He had known what he was doing when he mercilessly crushed and harvested this first of human worlds. He had known what he was doing when he betrayed the Overminds he had used to advance his putrid schemes. And he knew what he was doing when his led his eleventh Spawnship, no longer identical but modified into one which none of the others could stand against, back to that dread nebula where all was begun. Back to the birthing ground of his new model army. But beneath his exterior of scaly insectoid chitin, there lurked, as always, a plan of deception and stealth. A plan that had been examined many times over the last twelve years, a plan to trick humanity into undoing itself. A plan that would begin with the most careful diplomacy he had yet attempted.


OOC: Your scouts will find my Spawnship waiting in the nebula- it's over 11km long so it shouldn't be too hard to miss.

OOC: You have MSN?

IC:
The probe droid soon discovered something that should not be there. Something nearly the size of a Super Star Destroyer. Something that Jacen aboard the Nautical Nausea suspected to be thw culprit of the slaughter on the planet. The computers started spitting out readings from the probe droid and Jacen ripped the flimsiplast to read it.

Jacen frowned at the readings. "Damn. It looks like we're going to need something bigger than a corvette if push comes to shove..."

OOC: AIM. What do you want to know?

OOC: Just wanted to chat, heh.

Sensors on the tiny craft picked up a large solid, huge for a ship, but tiny for a possibly forming planetoid or star. Deviation from the search pattern was out of the question, so its identity would have to wait another hour or so. Logged and forgotten.

Pilots sat in pods far apart in a long corridor, one of many. Normally all of the pods were full and people busily moved about, but with 12 half automated scouts and nothing else the space was quiet. Lights were minimal and all was still.

Suddenly, a heart jumped. The pilot shouted down the hall at the top of his lungs. "11 click ship spotted! It's a damn behemoth! Sensors show it's powering up. Splicing data stream." Within a few seconds of these last words, every piece of data the pilot received was plastered across screens throughout the ship, from Fighter Command to the Bridge and even in the quarters of off duty officers- priority one. Fighter Command put out an all craft scramble and the control pods were soon flooded with pilots ready for battle.

On the bridge, the commander ordered the rest of the carrier to battle stations and the helm to the newly discovered vessel. Soon it neared the massive spawnship. Bryce rushed to the bridge.

bump

OOC: Sorry - I've been busy with school.

A message was sent out from the lurking Spawnship, once it was known that it had been noticed by those who had so recently entered the system. Its composer had not known what its true meaning was, he was merely an officer aboard a huge ship. He had never even seen the weapons batteries which had last been fired before he clawed his way out of the number eight spawning pit. He merely took orders from above, and efficiently (all members of his race were efficient) crafted a short statement of invitation. He only paused a moment to admire the faceless recipients of this paragraph which would shortly be sent out. They would meet, face-to-face, with the grand elder statesman who had guided the Chisrit Bæsri for so many years. With a punch of a button, he sent the message along to another stop before it would be transmitted.
***
Freddy Benson hadn’t read English for nearly ten years. When he saw a message typed in it about to be sent out across the arrays, he nearly jumped out of his seat. With a second glance, he knew what was going on-something his admiral would never tell to a mere Special Forces (R) soldier. Not unless he was about to go out on a mission. Benson had been working on this same Spawnship for a long time, and he was getting tired of it. He glanced from his workstation towards the door that led to barracks 12a, his slice of home. In there he had his ceremonial armor all shined up, ready for him to meet visitors if there ever were any. He sent along the message on its journey to the Top Secret communications department in that increasingly separate sector 15. Nobody wanted to go there any more. Not with them living there. The special children of the Bæsri. As he was getting up to leave his desk, he noticed a light start blinking next to his telescreen. A little red light, one that indicated somebody very important wanted to talk to him about something very secretive. Something delicate, no doubt.
***

Hello, this is the Chisrit Bæsri, and our reconnaissance probe detected your arrival in the system. We jumped here as fast as we could, but were afraid that you might be hostile aliens. Instead we are glad to meet more representatives of humanity. We ourselves came across this tragedy some years ago, and would like to ask your assistance in punishing those who committed it. We have been pursuing the dangerous enemy for almost nine years now, and would greatly appreciate your help. Please join us onboard for a formal dinner and talks. We welcome your ambassadors, and hopefully the eventual peaceful cooperation of our peoples for many years. Docking bay 14 will be awaiting your arrival.

The bridge's busy and bustling occupants nearly all stopped and looked when the Comms officer called out, "Incoming rerouted transmission, they appear to be friendly! They're asking for face to face contact." The entire message was displayed on the holographic column in the center of the bridge, the other updates and readiness stats temporarily halted.

Bryce spoke, "Grant it, commander, I'd like to speak with them, they seem to have good will and something about their style, and it's almost Kazeci."
The tactical officer was more skeptical. "Sir, there's a good chance that these are the murderers! That massive of a vessel hiding from we who come to investigate the slaughter? We couldn't hold up to their weapons for long if they turned out to be hostile, not with what the scout is reporting back."
"What would they still be doing here, this many years later? Either flee or stay, but why lurk over a dead world?"
The tactical officer turned to the ensign. "Scans show they're powering up, if their ship was dormant and we awoke them-"
Finally, the Commander cut them all off, finishing the discussion. "Your concern is noted and shared, Jack, but Bryce has a point too, and code says we follow Bryce's course of action, albeit with caution. Set a course."

When they arrived, they dispatched a transport, which awaited landing instructions.

"Master. A transmission, presumably from that ship!" The HK droid HK-59 reported.

"I hear it." Jacen said. They've been sitting there for Force knows how long. Probably stalking us. I wonder if they're the murderers of that colony...Only one way to find out.

Jacen removed the straps of his seat and moved towards the cargo bay. "I'm going over there."

"Warning: Master, that would be unwise. If these meatbags killed the colony meatbags.."

"I know." Jacen said, then smiled. "I'll be back. No matter what."

"Answer: Sometimes I hate that smile. Damned Jedi and your ninja friends." Niner groused.

Jacne just laughed and headed aft to a small wedge-shaped starfighter, known colliqually as a Jedi Starfighter. It was so small it didn't have its own hyperdrive, but that means that it could easily fit the hanger bay of the Nautical Nausea. With that in mind, the young Jedi Shinobi zipped out of the bay and towards the Chisrit Bæsri, wary of tricks and traps, and anxious to get to the bottom of this mission.

The Starfighter was smaller than the Bullet, but judging from its performance as yet, it was less maneuverable or functioning under its capabilities. Either way, the Bullet could likely match it or better in most any situation- those which didn't require weapons anyway. This thought train brought comfort to the pilot, security that he still flew one of the best small non-com. craft in the galaxy. He increased speed, pushing the large twin engines to 70% and leaving two distinct trails behind. Barrel rolls, flips, arcs and dives occupied the time he spent circling the massive ship, searching for the open bay. Once located, he stopped the playful displays and slowed until they barely crept along. Hot approaches were standard in Kazecistan, but usually other nations had slow approach policies, no hot landing capture methods, and a fear of hostile intent from anything with speed. He awaited direction, be it through a communication or in the form of physical force.

Freddy Benson hadn’t read English for nearly ten years. When he saw a message typed in it about to be sent out across the arrays, he nearly jumped out of his seat. With a second glance, he knew what was going on-something his admiral would never tell to a mere Special Forces (R) soldier. Not unless he was about to go out on a mission. Benson had been working on this same Spawnship for a long time, and he was getting tired of it. He glanced from his workstation towards the door that led to barracks 12a, his slice of home. In there he had his ceremonial armor all shined up, ready for him to meet visitors if there ever were any. He sent along the message on its journey to the Top Secret communications department in that increasingly separate sector 15. Nobody wanted to go there any more. Not with them living there. The special children of the Bæsri. As he was getting up to leave his desk, he noticed a light start blinking next to his telescreen. A little red light, one that indicated somebody very important wanted to talk to him about something very secretive. Something delicate, no doubt.
***

The Temasek's departure proved premature. Onboard... the helm said: "Sir, Gracie (ship's AI) and I have a large reading coming from behind us. It's a ship. A big ship."

Mbutu then got up, and said, "Well?"

Gracie then said, "Captain? THere's some message here. I think you'll like to hear it."

Gracie then displayed the message, which said:

Hello, this is the Chisrit Bæsri, and our reconnaissance probe detected your arrival in the system. We jumped here as fast as we could, but were afraid that you might be hostile aliens. Instead we are glad to meet more representatives of humanity. We ourselves came across this tragedy some years ago, and would like to ask your assistance in punishing those who committed it. We have been pursuing the dangerous enemy for almost nine years now, and would greatly appreciate your help. Please join us onboard for a formal dinner and talks. We welcome your ambassadors, and hopefully the eventual peaceful cooperation of our peoples for many years. Docking bay 14 will be awaiting your arrival.

Mbutu then said, reacting to these developments: "Looks like we have to go back. Turn us around, ensign."

The Temasek turned around, and then Mbutu consulted Gracie, asking her what she thought of the situation at hand.

Gracie then said, with some suspicion, her chibi figure onscreen showing a comical, suspicious look. "Well, it does seem a little sudden that they came out of the blue. But, I do detect movement from the other ships. So, it may be best to send a team over. You, and a few Marines. But I don't want you leaving without any arms. It's dangerous!"

Mbutu then said, "Well, yo're not my mother. But, we will prepare...."

The team was reassembled, and a Gagarin II shuttle was dispatched to Docking Bay 14 with the message:

"Chisrit Bæsri, this is Captain Charles Mbutu of the New Dornalian People's Navy ship Temasek. We had previously gone onto the planet, and found a horrid sight. I am going over there with some bodyguards to answer your call, and maybe get some answers and plan a counterattack, if possible."

OOC: I’m very sorry, I’ve known what I wanted to say for days now, I just haven’t had time to write it up. Once exams are over, I’ll have a [i]lot[/]I more free time.

As the Kazeci shuttle landed in docking bay 14, it was greeted by the glimmering shapes of two hundred armored soldiers standing at attention. The shining chrome plate armor (reminiscent of the Middle Ages) covered every inch of their bodies, making it impossible to determine whether they were human or machine. As one, they split ranks and opened a path down their middle for a trio of Mizarian diplomats to approach the ship. They were dressed identically to the soldiers, the only difference being the unidentifiable rank markings on their chests and shoulders.

There was, however, no doubt as to the species of this trio, their easy pace and walking motion giving them away to any observer as human. The one in the center, steamy breath emerging from under his facemask, shook the hand of the Kazeci commander, welcoming him aboard.

“Welcome to the Chisrit Bæsri, I’m glad to have you aboard. A tram has been reserved to take us to see the Admiral, but we’re going to wait for the others to arrive. If you’ll follow me to the waiting area, I’m sure we’ll be ready to go in five minutes or less.”

He then guided the guests to the back of the hanger and into a smallish room, equipped with stern chairs and stale ration biscuits. After bidding them welcome again, he stepped out to await the arrival of the Coredian envoy, who received the same treatment. However, the armored diplomat was careful to bow, rather than shake the hand of the possible telepath. Finally, Mbutu of New Dornalia arrived and the three detachments were taken from the room along a short hallway. The trio of diplomats led the way along, moving past several forks and two security doors. Finally, they reached an open area to make anybody gasp. Stretched out before them was a hold populated by the bechromed figures and filled with machine shops and factory works building armored vehicles, all beneath ceiling mounted railways that ran passenger cars and freight only a few feet above the bustle at breakneck speed toward other sectors.

“This is the sector 14 backup factory, currently we’re getting ready for possible boarding action against a similar ship. Now that we’ve met you, we can take the fight to the enemy using superior numbers of capital ships. We don’t have the shipyards to produce anything larger than a couple hundred meters. And even then, those are just glorified freighters.”

As he finished his statement, a tramcar stopped next to them, and they boarded. As it sped along, the lead diplomat pressed a button on its controls and the windows darkened, obscuring those inside to observers, and the outside to those who may wish to see it. He then reached up to his helmet and disengaged the neck seal. As he took it off, revealing a grizzled human face in his mid forties, he spoke again to those assembled.

“I’m Freddy Benson, I work in special operations. I do most of the Admiral’s diplomacy, at least with humans. I’m going to take you to talk to him, then I’ll introduce you to your own personal liaison officers. If you, or your nation, ever needs a favor from us, they’ll be the ones to contact. It’s been a while since we’ve had visitors, but I seem to recall the chefs being able to synthesize a damn good steak.

“Captain Mbutu, I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave all but one of your marines outside the conference room. They’ll be accommodated for in a secondary dining room, but they won’t be able to meet with the Admiral. I also probably won’t be able to take them with us on parts of the tour after dinner. It’ll be a pleasure working with all of you.”

As he said this last part, he replaced his helmet shook everybody’s hand, starting with Jacen, who was seated furthest from him. As he firmly grasped the young man’s hand he slipped a small note into his palm:

“Be careful dealing with A. He’s calmed down since I first met him, but he’s still paranoid. Don’t trust him, because he’ll never trust you. I’m doing this for your own safety- he’s insane and capable of anything. Pass the note to the others.”

After a further two minutes of growingly uncomfortable silence and tense looks among the passengers, the tramcar slid to a halt. They disembarked and stared at an enormous set of doors, over thirty feet high. These opened slowly and in the darkness loomed a huge, inhuman shape.
***
Freddy turned out to be right about the steak, and the diplomatic party sat around a large wooden table, enjoying a four course meal served by the chrome shapes. The small talk was idle, though Mbutu found himself dominated by questions about the current political climate around Earth from another Mizarian diplomat, especially who controlled which moons and planetoids. Finally the Admiral spoke to the assembled guests:

“It is very nice for you all to be here. I’m sure you’re all wondering why I was afraid of attack, and what happened on that planet, and what I even am. Well, that last part is easy: I am one of a kind. No longer my former weak species, I have become a part of this magnificent machine. Not that my biological components appear weak to you, but compared to what I now am, I was a mouse.”

He was not lying either, his huge arachnidal body covered in chitinous armor and with thick hoses running away from him to the nearest wall. His form took up nearly an entire side of the table, and the most impressive of all was the enormous head, which culminated in a dexterous mouth, perfectly pronouncing the English without a translator.

“As for the first, it can best be answered by the second. And by one that has not yet entered your mind. What happened here was an attack, presumably unprovoked, by an armada of as many as five ships almost identical to this one. There are only six like it in the universe, though there were seven until a few years ago. When I discovered the attack, I was the admiral in charge of a minor fleet of mercenaries. I vowed to hunt down who had committed it. I came across this ship, its occupants had refused to take part, and had been attacked by those who had, crippling it. I used the parts from my fleet to repair it and upgrade its weapon systems.

“Soon I was able to engage and destroy one of the other Spawnships. But this caused the rest to go into hiding, protected by rings of defensive stations. This is where you come in. I need you to attack these orbitals with your nation’s fleets, and hopefully either destroy enough to let me in, or draw out my opponents. Then I will be able to bring the monsters to justice and relinquish control of this Spawnship back to the peace-loving aliens who had it before me. Now perhaps you do not believe me. Perhaps I am lying. But remember that even if the smallest part of this is a lie, or just a concealed truth, it must have been concealed within a greater truth for you to believe it for even a few minutes of your tour of this ship. And hopefully your eventual military campaign.”

“Be careful dealing with A. He’s calmed down since I first met him, but he’s still paranoid. Don’t trust him, because he’ll never trust you. I’m doing this for your own safety- he’s insane and capable of anything. Pass the note to the others.”
Jacen read the note and discreetly passed it to the others. After that, he listened to the Admiral's words. He sounds sincere, although I'm pretty skeptical about all this...I'll have to remain wary...

OOC: I've been working on NSwiki entry for the Spawnships. Feel free to peruse it for ooc data. I'll have another IC reply up tomorrow.

[QUOTE=Mizara]-snip-[QUOTE]

Mbutu did as told, leaving the Marine guards behind. As he chatted with the others, explaining how on New Dornalia's Earth, nuclear war (dubbed the "apocalypse") between the US and USSR had resulted in a world different from what they knew-a patchwork of nations, all vastly different levels of technology, that were eventually united by the New Dornalians based in California, who managed to go to space and acquire modern (OOC: By FT Standards) technology, by the Treaty of Los Angeles. He neglected to mention it was the greatest act of gunboat diplomacy in the history of the Earth. But, well-that didn't need to be mentioned.

And, as he listened to the Admiral's words, he felt somewhat suspicious; though Mbutu was always raised never to judge a book by its cover, something about this man unnerved him, though Mbutu did not show it. Like Jacen, he thought the Admiral sounded sincere enough. But the man's warning to watch the Admiral rang in his mind.

Bryce and the Commander both thought it odd that their guards weren't asked to depart the group. Even if they were fewer in number, it seemed as if they were deemed a non-threat. Perhaps this was good for their diplomatic stance, and it was understandable due to their being in dress uniform- fabric clothing. Either way, they dismissed all but one to match the others.

The note was a little unnerving, certainly not something one wants to hear when severely outnumbered and far from help. Nonetheless, Bryce was perfectly pleasant, calm and interested in what their hosts had to say.

Bryce leaned intently forward, a look of genuine concern on his face, while the Commander reclined and lightly bit his lip. Bryce spoke before the commander, he needed the control of the situation, his experience would be all that stood between them and death or injury. "While your cause is noble and your tone sincere, Kazecistan must decline aid in this endeavor. We empathise with your goals and would share them with a fiery lust if in your place, it is our way. It is not our way, however, to enter this engagement. I hope you can understand, large scale deployment as a third party will never be approved. We wish you the best of luck and hope that this is the beginning of strong and positive relations between us." The commander understood Bryce's motive and its purpose, relaxing somewhat. He could not phrase things so delicately, and judging by the note that was necessary.

Ooc: Hopefully this will finish up quickly. I’ll be posting a new thread for Part 2: the battle sequence. Whenever we get around to that.

“I am sorry to hear that you will be unable to honor the memory of those countless peoples who have lost their lives under the assault of the monster. I still extend to you a hand of friendship, and ask that you take with you the knowledge of the insidious enemy that you gain here today, as well as the knowledge of my deep and sincere wish to bring redemption to my people. I completely understand your desire to remain a step removed from such dangerous conflict, and I am sure that if your people are not up to it, it is best that they stay away. The cruel Minds that orchestrated the deaths on Bershan are willing to take their war elsewhere.

“You may stay for dessert and the tour of the Bæsri, I hope that it changes your mind as to the importance of this upcoming operation to countless millions of sentient beings. But let us eat. There will be time for war planning later. I understand it is some sort of dark chocolate treat, with cherry sauce.”

True to his word, within moments the bechromed servers arrived again, bearing trays of finest delicacies. As these were being consumed, a figure entered through a side door and called Benson out of the room, whispering furtively into his ear. The small talk stalled once again, and the Admiral spoke:

“That concludes the state dinner. Short by some standards, I know. But this is wartime. Captain Benson will lead your tour; I understand he is eager to show you the number four spawning pit. I am, unfortunately not able to leave this room to accompany you, but I have my eyes and ears along the way. If you have any questions for me, I will be able to hear you. Captain Benson, if you please.”

“Sir. I had been meaning to ask you about the liaison officers- we can’t spare any men. I was wondering if we might be able to use AIs, or Alphas at the least.”

“No no no. Our friends are humans, you must spare men from your department. I don’t care who. But the tour now. I will work something out.”

“Yes sir.”
The human form turned, helmet still on from when he had silently entered the room moments before. He appraised the group of ambassadors and officers, taking in every expectant face, wondering if the note would have been sufficient.
“If you would follow me, we’ll proceed to the sector seventeen fighter bay. I have a tramcar lined up for us, and I’m sure you’ll be pleasantly surprised by what the Chisrit has to offer.”

Once again, the group left the room and boarded a waiting transport. Without the slightest jolt, they were once again flying through the air towards a mysterious destination.
***
Freddy Benson emerged from the side room and faced the armored shape of the Admiral. He looked worried, and was visibly upset.
“That bit about the liaison officers wasn’t a show, you know. I don’t have men to spare for missions like that. We have barely enough human on board as it is. Not for all that you want them to be doing. So many of my men don’t come back anyway.”

“Yes yes. We’ve been through this before. My children will soon be old enough to take over most of your duties. And we won’t have to worry about mechanicals screwing things up like last time.”

“Speaking of which-”

“I trust your ability to create a fake tour-guide version of yourself. Unless something knocks the helmet off, they’ll never know. Not even the telepath, if he is one. I have my doubts.”

“I meant them they’re not good enough for the sort of ops I do. The differences are huge. Any security would be able to pick them out, even with shielded clothes.”

“As usual, I am two steps ahead of you. The issue of invasive security is being taken care of. But back to the tramcar. I thought you performed marvelously. Everything went just as I wanted it to. They’re eating out of our hands as if poison were sweetest candy.”

“I would like to show them the Pit personally, so I have to try to catch up with them, Sir.”

***
The small group again exited the tramcar and were awed by the appearance of the interior of the Spawnship. In this single hanger were more than two thousand light starfighters, each being serviced by a shape none had ever seen before. One that was disturbingly recognizable, yet shockingly terrible. They could best be described as large, dark blue ants. Bipedal humanoids with spindly arms and legs attached to bulbous body segments, all covered in an armor of deep blue chitin, and ending in a ferocious mandible bearing head. Thousands upon thousands of maintenance workers looked up at the humans, never having seen such squishy pink flesh before.

“As you can see, the Chisrit has had very active factories, we’ve been building up this fleet and training our pilots for over five years now. We are confidant in our ability to overwhelm the enemy’s own fighters and make a clear path for our boarding craft. But since we will be fighting other similar craft, it is understandable that we will want a very large support fleet. Are there any questions? We don’t really have time to linger here, as we have to visit one of the portside batteries and a Spawning Pit.”

Shit. He is crazy. Kazecistan was safe, this war-monger hadn't the power to touch it, not yet anyway, and they weren't going to give it to him. The three Kazecis exchanged a complex and long series of looks and expressions, nearly having a conversation, in little blips when others weren't looking or wouldn't recognise them. It came to a consensus that they would be fine if they played their cards right and they could stop any attempts to gain power by discussing this with the other nations once off-board.

Bryce reached into a pocket within the folds of his diplomatic robes and sent a short, heavily encrypted transmission to their ship with the situation directly from his mind.

Personally, Jacen wouldn't have minded a droid, AI unit, hologram, or alien to give him the tour. Being a citizen of a nation as varied as Coreworlds gives him an appreciation for all kinds of life-forms, and even some that are mechanical.

He glanced at the blue antlike creatures milling around the starfighters. Hmm. They look a lot like Vratix techies. Even have a similar set of abilities. Interesting.

“If there are no questions, they could you follow me back to the tramcar. It’s only a short hop to the nearest gun battery, P158.”
***
“This is the portside battery 8a for sector 15. It feeds mostly off the ‘V’ stack for sector 15, the ventral stack, as opposed to 8b which has its own power generators. This battery consists of three quad-guns and a pair of heavy lances. The quad guns of course fire coaxially, but are fed independently from the power stack. I should note that though this battery faces portside, it has no connection to the nine-and-a-half kilometer long port stack series, which feeds the anti-capitalship guns of the 4 and 5 batteries of all sectors.

“And in this next room is 8b, which, as you can see, is mostly mass drivers and missile tubes. 8c is off-limits, since it contains sensitive targeting and EW equipment. As far as weapons go, a Spawnship is pretty unremarkable, except that it has so many. Each of the fourteen body sectors has eight port and eight starboard batteries, as well as four dorsal and four ventral. In addition, the six nose and tail sections have batteries of their own. I’ll go and talk to the alpha in charge here about a possibility of a firepower demonstration. Wait just a second.”
***
“Okay, we’re going to have 8b launch a target drone for 8a’s quad guns. Alpha said that they have 88 percent accuracy against their own drones, and 78 against other people’s. Which generally translates into about 70 percent in combat at ideal ranges.

“Looks like he wasn’t lying either. In case you blinked, the gunners hit on the first shot, and destroyed it on the third. Everybody set? No questions? Okay. Let’s head to the really exciting part- the Spawn pit.”
***

Once again the people were herded onto a tramcar and taken at blurring speeds across the ship. This time, however, they did not stay at the outer edges, but went straight towards the core. The air grew thick and damp, and smelled of unrecognizable biological odors. Fog began to condense around the floor of the tramcar as the air chilled noticeably.

“Since we normally operate at lower temperatures than human comfort levels, often barely above freezing, the larvae are kept at low temperatures to acclimatize them. This also helps them when they’re doing spacewalks or boarding operations. The smell is because we just passed through the airlock that keeps nutrients inside the pit. The air is permeated with the nutrients needed for a larva to grow into a healthy adult. Don’t worry- they’re good for us humans too.”

Benson breathed deeply as the doors to the tramcar opened once again, once again revealing the marvels of the huge starship, once again taking the breath away from the visiting diplomats. It revealed a series of walkways and dividers, splitting a gigantic hangar into hundreds of five to twenty meter square pits. In the bottom of each pit was a thick, soupy-white foam of fog and liquid, with indeterminate shapes moving beneath. Overhead on rails were robotic arms tipped with nutrient sprayers and analyzers. Moving around the walkways were more of the Drones, similar to those in the hanger and the battery, but with noticeably longer antennae and darker coloration. From vents in the floor, walls, and ceiling came a steady mist of enhanced air.

“These drones are stronger from the years of working in the enhanced environment. They’ve also not elected to have their antennae cropped, so as to better taste-smell the status of the pits. This is the number four pit, one of a total of nine onboard. The primary pit produces about two million class A and B drones every earth month. The others generally hover around two hundred thousand. If we wanted to dip to lower classes, we could easily produce twenty million C and Ds on a monthly basis.

“It’s a six-month gestation period from egg-laying to being an adult. Though in the adult stage they continue to grow for another two months before their chitin is completely hardened. Most of the eggs don’t survive- the late hatchers are consumed, and the weak larvae by the strong. Once they pupate, they are taken out of their pits and cleaned up. Then they’re sent to evaluation and finally training. By the time they’re fully-grown, they’ve been divided into warriors, maintenance, pilots, gunners, and every other type of job you can think of. Average lifespan is about fifteen years, longer for those who aren’t in heavy labor.

“Of course, they used to only live five or six years before they were recycled. And life expectancy has been increasing steadily ever since the Admiral came onboard. Any questions?”

The captain spoke, genuinely interested and somewhat excited. "On a ship this massive, are there any production facilities for vessels? Do you have the ability to build smaller ships? Fighters, obviously, but anything larger? You might be able to build up your very own fleet, using this vessel as a production facility / base. How large are your largest external bay doors? Kazecistan can rig up a production bay for you, should you have the internal space." Bryce shot him a look. "What? This could be a good business deal. Both parties would come out ahead."

“To answer your question- yes, we have facilities for larger craft. However, we do not have the refining capabilities onboard to produce high quality armor in any quantity. Even repairing minor battle damage takes many months. As far as warships are concerned, we can build light frigates, and that’s about it. We do have the production facilities to make freighters and mining ships- but as our largest bays only accommodate vessels slightly over 150m in length, we are limited in size if not quantity.

“I am not sure, however, if we really need a fleet of capital ships. Once we have brought the perpetrators of the slaughter to justice, there will no longer be any need for combat on our part. The Chisrit will have most of its armament removed, and it will be returned to its former status as a colony ship.*

“But this concludes the tour, and if you’ll follow me, we’ll head back to the banquet hall to finish up the tour and finalize any plans.”
***
Once again all the members of the diplomatic party were ushered onto a tramcar, which sped to the previously visited meeting hall. There they met up with the Admiral and their liaison officers.
“Mbutu of New Dornalia, I would like you to meet Sgt. Edward Noloss. Jacen Masaki of the Coreworlds, you will be dealing with us through Lt. Kyle Kopen. And finally, Sgt. William Grante will be the officer for Kazecistan- even if you still do not care to join us. I hope that you find these appointments satisfactory, Benson?”

“They know what they’re doing. And I don’t need them for anything else, so yes. These three will be fine. They will escort you back to your ships, and we will teleconference the next planning stages for the assaults, as you will undoubtedly like to report back to your superiors. Thank you.”
***
The diplomats were escorted back to their personal shuttles via another trip on the tramcar, along with their bodyguards. After a final round of farewells, they went back to their personal ships. There, no longer observed by the watchful electronic eyes and ears of the Admiral, they could communicate between the three nations in secret.

*OOC: Blatant lies. There is already a small fleet of capital ships under the Admiral’s control. Why do you think he’s called the Admiral? And the production bays can produce up to 250m, not 150.
I’ll also have a major exposition/description installment ready tonight. So we should be on to the battle thread soon.

OOC: What if we turned on him? Possible story line there?

Ic: The Kazecis immediately contacted the other vessels in the area, using tightly directional communications to avoid interception. This 'Admiral' is insane! Giving him support gives him the power to over take the other culture, whom we don't even know, and he won't stop there. He'd become a tyrant over an entire civilization, bending it to his warmongering will. He could come after us, our allies and friends. We can't aid them.

OOC: Yes, there is a possible storyline. But it would throw me off.
Don't worry- I've got it all planned out. Nothing bad will happen to your nations if you don't want it to. But whatever fleets you assign to 'help' him will probably be whiped out. Basicly, he's going to ask you to help him attack another Spawnship, then turn on you. No suprise there. The big question is whether or not Benson and his fellow humans are with you or against you.

ooc: But is it a storyline you wish to pursue?

Well... that's up to you. I can find other nations to fill in the slots for attacking the other spawnship. And having determined opponents would make the ensuing battle more interesting if you decided to oppose the Admiral and his allies. But whether you support him or turn on him or quietly drift away is up to you.

ooc: Alright, you asked for it... Well, the commander thinks you did anyway.

Ic: The transmission was continued. We must act now; take out this threat before it grows. Protect your homeland and the galaxy from this psycho! Hurry! We can take them now, while they are weak. Join us in our actions!

The ship began to go to maximum power output, directing it to batteries and engines, though that would not be its use. Shields remained offline, it would look as if they were preparing for a jump.

bump- is anybody else going to respond?

bump- is anybody else going to respond?

Mbutu communicated with the Kazecis once he got back aboard the Temasek on secure channels, saying, "I must agree. There's something not quite right about the Admiral. I would advocate caution, however. He does seem to be crafty, and may try to trick us when the time is right. Also, if there is any evidence he has something in mind, I don't see it. You'll have to excuse me, but I am only one vessel."

As are we, but we shall do our part. Join us and stave their eminent onslaught. And with that they closed the communications. Not but a few seconds later and they made their move. The massive ship's engines were a clear shot form their position, and scans had determined what looked to be the weakest point on them, making them the prime target. The carrier's arsenal consisted of only two weapons that might be effective in this situation, both mounted on the same turret. Heavy Lethal Ion Cannons, HLICs, they were called, and they were devastating, especially to unshielded vessels. All at once the ship's capacitors drained, thousands of assorted sized batteries throughout the ship releasing energy and pouring it into the two weapons. Thick, rich, golden beams of energised particles exploded fourth from the massive turret, which itself recoiled with lightning speed. Their usual 30 second duration was shortened to half that as the beams were intensified beyond normal use and power was also being used to reinforce the directional energy shielding. It would be only a few seconds before they attempted the jump to safety now.

Anárion lounged on the bridge of the Erisavenus. Though the bridge was entirely formal, and he had nothing in particular to worry about. “So, where are we off to now?”

The ship replied, “Unknown colony, transmitted a distress call some twenty years or so ago. I think we’re about a day behind on this, so I suspect someone else will have shown up already. The Erisavenus was a four kilometre long necron ship, recently responsible for saving over five million people from an invading force bent on genocide in a nearby region of the galaxy. As its passengers had departed, so too had most of the elves and humans who had been involved in the mission.

Anárion however was not the norm. He’d demonstrated far great initiative, and he’d been invited to stick around by the ship in its continuing, self-appointed, vigilante mission to explore the far reaches of space – far beyond the interests of the necrontyr empire – skipping from inhabited area to inhabited area, seeking out new knowledge, and new opportunities for meddling. The ship was indeed a meddlesome entity; one of the new generation of necron ships, its desires ran towards helping people, and its activities were rather eccentric, but so far, successful.

“Ah,” the ship told Anárion, “We’ve arrived. Ah yes, some company here,” it displayed the various silhouettes of ships remaining in the system, “Humm, I think that one’s ‘Kazecistanian, those I’ve heard of, err, in passing. Very contactiphile, I’m told. Sending transmission.”

---

To: Kazeci ship, orbit of primary planet, unknown system
From: INS Erisavenus (Universal Dignity)
Subject: Distress Signal.

I intercepted a distress signal that appears to originate from this planet, as you seem to have been here for some time, perhaps you could enlighten me as to the situation?

---

OOC: I know this thread is ending, but it was a fairly good read, and I’d quite appreciate being involved in the sequel.

I was planning to invite you anyway. So there. I'll have an IC post up tonight.

I was planning to invite you anyway. So there. I'll have an IC post up tonight.

OOC: Really? Who're you then that you care to invite little old me? :confused:

ooc: You caught us at a rather interesting time. A turn out of our favor in an already unfavorable moment. More interesting by the moment...

Ic: "Sir, incoming vessel and transmission! Ctan origin, 4 clicks, normal power readings."
"Perfect opportunity! Open a channel."
"We barely know the Ctan, sir! You can't drag them into this!"

Erisavenus: We are the K.N.S SharNevar and in need of assistance. The 11 KM monstrosity before us is a menace and needs to be destroyed! They're preparing to go on a genocidal mission at the direction of a psychopathic leader! Hurry, strike now while they are weak! He must have sounded like a crazed fanatic, and all Kazecis were to some degree, especially when motivated by passion.

The Erisavenus mulled over the matter briefly, and began scanning the 'target' ship and those around it. Its power output spiked momentarily, and its hull almost seemed to change composition. The ship drifted on its present course, however, flipping end-over-end in a few moments and making another small FTL jump to emerge two light seconds away from the 'target.' Then it replied;

Are you certain? We don't very much like firing on those who we don't know... Have you any logs or evidence to send us?

All of their information to this point, selectively chosen to exemplify their view, was sent along with an irate message that the matter was urgent.

Time is of the essence! Our lives are already on the line! We NEED to go if we're not getting assistance! Seconds remain for us if we're not going to fight this out!

Every second they hesitated exposed them to attack. The massive ship would be too much for them, either their tactical strike would work and their strike on the engines would cause an overload or cripple the vessel and they flee, or their friends would have to aid them. Or they die.

Beep. Beep. Beep. A warning beep sounded on Jacen's belt. "Sorry, peoples." He blushed slightly and took the message. Seconds later, he gasped in horror. Jurai was under attack! "I better go. Sorry about leaving on short notice!"

He disappeared in a puff of smoke and reappeared in the cockpit of his fighter. After waiting for clearance, he left the hangar bay and headed back to the Nautical Nausea.

"Jump, now! No time to lose!" Jacen ordered his people as soon as he returned.

The modified corvette turned and swiftly made the jump to hyperspace.

OOC: Sorry about leaving the RP, but Jurai, my capital planet, is under attack and every Jedi has been recalled.

Mbutu got a call from HQ. It was a message recalling the Temasek back to New Dornalia. Something about a war? Higher alert? Mbutu recognized this was not good news.

He wired the Kazecis, "I must head home....but before that, I would like to fire one shot."

The New Dornalians then fired a spread of conventional torpedoes and a Demolisher Gun shot at the same spot the Kazecis fired at, after manuevering there, and then entered into warp.

OOC: I'm involved in the same conflict CW is, so I too must go....it was fun though.

OOC: I had a previous post here, but I closed the tab by mistake, grr. And I can't resist offering the Terascope; got to get some use out of it. I've left an 'out' in there though in case Mizara doesn't want the mystery solved.

IC: The Erisavenus closed on the alien ship as it perused the data, harnessing truly stellar quantities of power and sending them coursing into great blocks of fluid metal that were currently serving as capacitors for hull regeneration, interception, and a multitude of other defensive tasks, as well as of course, sheer destruction. It considered the facts of the matter, and decided that it couldn't, in conscience, fire, at least, not first.

I have reviewed the evidence, and can't say I am ready to join in this action at this time. The claims of the 'Admiral' may yet prove accurate. A more through investigation is necessery before the step of consigning lives to oblivion is needed. My government has a device, nicknamed the Terascope (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?p=10911764#post10911764), that may be able to directly observe the massacre and observe the perpetrators, although the density of the interstellar medium in this region of space may prove a problem. The Admiral's claims should be investigated in a more considerate manner, and his enemies probed.

However, if a battle commences, I am willing to act to minimise overall casualties in whatever manner seems appropriate.

And at that point, the firing started, Erisavenus targetted the same location, and... watched. Waiting to see the reaction of the massive alien vessel before intervening, but preparing nonetheless for a devastating strike.

OOC: Dang. The bums who occupy the same house as me kept me off the comp for three hours. And I had a reply to Kaz's attack mostly-written. Hence, ND's shots bounce harmlessly off the sheilds.
IC
The majestic Spawnship screamed as its most vulnerable area was penetrated by its dastardly attacker. Throughout the aft sections of the ship, metal groaned and artificial gravity temporarily failed, causing tremors and bringing hundreds of thousands to their knees. The defensive shields had snapped on after the initial seconds, but vast damage had been done. Two starboard thrusters failed, causing their associated engines to overload, fortunately, the surge was redirected into nearby weapons capacitors, which were only partially filled on the starboard bank. One still burst, a jet of flame and energy spiking away, as designed, through the thinner armor over it and into space for hundreds of meters.

Once again, the ship roared, but not now in pain, but in anger. The millions onboard shrieked their ire, demanding that the one who had attacked their birthplace be crushed, and the Admiral in charge was only too happy to oblige. Before the fifteen seconds of enemy fire had subsided, batteries from along the whole of the facing starboard batteries were being trained toward the vile attacker. After another few moments, eleven kilometers worth of anti-capitalship weaponry locked onto a single enemy cruiser and fired, bright blue-white beams streaking across the intervening space to inescapably crush it through sheer brute force.

The C’Tan ship was noted for its floating around, but was ignored. It would be dealt with later, on the Admiral’s own terms. As of now, there were smaller fish to fry- but more valuable in the eyes of those onboard.

ooc: I figured those shields would be coming online pretty quick.

Ic: Thinking through actions like these was not one of the Kazeci's strong points- passion just sort of took over. The Captain cursed the Ctan for their non-cooperative spirit, they caused the Kazecis to stall. This hesitation may have just cost their lives. The computer took over SOP protocol, all crew function was removed and all power ceased to flow. The shielding collapsed faster than it had been put up and the hull was pulverised. Huge parts of the ship sheared off, but a core remained intact, protected by the crumpling vessel around it. The sheer force of the blasts had shoved them away from the spawn ship, inertia would take over- if they had time. Perhaps their attempt at playing possum would work. Slowly they slid off into space, without hope of being able to do anything.

sIc: The Captain, Bryce, and 12 other high ranking officers sat in a Bullet, floating powerless behind a large piece of debris. Part of SOP in this situation was evac. of important personnel via transporter to transports. There were three other Bullets hiding in the debris as well, each with important personnel aboard. None of them said a word. It was over, their command, the lives of their crew, their chance at anything, all their hopes and dreams obliterated to a point so far beyond no-return that they just sat there in the dark.

On-board the Bridge, that core so deeply encased in crumpling metal, reverberated with the shock. The emotional shock, the physical shock waves of the impacts, the physical shock of crew members' dieing bodies. Cries of pain pierced the ears of those who were still alive. Several cables had snapped and the lower suspended decks had all collapsed onto each other. Gravity was lost and the room was lit by a single blinking red light. They all wondered weather their misery would be ended in the coming moments or their lives spared to continue on.

Both Anárion and Erisavenus watched as the eleven kilometre behemoth reduced a Kazeci cruiser to so much scrap and debris. The black haired elf frowned momentarily, “Aren’t you going to help?”

“I can’t, yet,” the cruiser replied, “residual radiation from that much weapons fire isn’t pretty for my sensors. I’m working on cutting through it but it should take time… I’m manoeuvring behind the wreckage,”

Anárion leaned heavily on the armrest and gritted his teeth a little as he waited. For him it was an interminable wait, “There,” he said, pointing at the screen.

“Yes, fourteen person transports. They appear to have a limited FTL capability. I’m getting some tantalising signs of life in the wreckage, but I’ll signal the escaping craft. Standby…”

I will attempt to retrieve any survivors from the wreckage of your craft, if you wish to contact us further; especially if you are unable to reach your home territory in those vessels, please meet me in orbit of the attacked colony world in thirty minutes.

The ship returned its attention to the debris, hunting through it with powerful sensors as it closed to within a hundred miles of the Kazeci cruiser, resetting its teleportation equipment to maximum power, at the expense of precision – in this configuration, they’d simply scoop up everything in a radius of two meters per person in any group they could locate, and dump them into the ship’s hospital facility…

The only personnel alive on board were within the bridge, the nearly indestructible core of the vessel. They were built to last. Transporting through that much solid matter might cause some minor difficulties, but the internal shielding mechanisms were powerless at the moment so it certainly wasn't impossible. Under a hundred people would be taken alive from the wreckage, and fewer would ever return to Kazecistan. The Ctan medbay would be a gruesome sight.

Their cover blown, the four bullets vanished from existence briefly before reappearing over the planet. Still none of the occupants spoke, only a very few glances were exchanged, just enough to consent to the jump. The lights weren't restored, nothing but the jump mechanisms was activated. This way they didn't have to look at themselves; each other. They drifted listlessly over the planet, so deep within themselves as not to know the physical.

Fortunately, Erisavenus was one of a mere ten Sickle (though this was a colloquialism, in official internal documentation, the ships were labelled Arnstoan Rhien) class ships, the newest cruiser design. While most necron ships were largely empty space and living metal, this one used that space in a far more human-friendly manner than the older ships, which were partly cargo-vessels. In its last ‘mission’ the Erisavenus had rescued over five million people from a planet under attack by a force grandly titled ‘The Scourge’ and it had taken on far more grievously wounded persons from that doomed world.

The medical bay ran across five decks, and contained dozens of wards. It was actually the size of a small hospital, and it had seen almost-dead casualties from the infamous Volarian nuclear incident on Mars, and more besides, in its time. Those that could not be treated by the strange, pastel coloured medical automatons (which varied in their design, depending on the level of consciousness of the patients they were intended to interact with. Surgeons resembled the military ‘tomb spyder’ repair constructs, wheras, ‘nurse’ droids tended to consist of more basic designs that projected solid-holograms around themselves to appear human, or at least, almost human, and were controlled directly by the ship.

Those who were brought on board too close to death were quickly ‘prioritised’ in an odd way – they were deposited in stasis chambers, where their conditions could be more accurately assessed while no time passed for them.

Its ghastly mission done, the Erisavenus scanned the hulk one last time, and then it opened fire, surgical strikes of its weapons vaporising the more complex and fragile parts of the debris once it was sure that no more life was on board. The Erisavenus had no particular spite towards the Kazeci, but it felt it best to avoid allowing their ship, even ruined, to fall into potentially hostile hands.

This done, the ship turned, and headed towards the distant planet at a speed that would bring it there in ten minutes. With a host of tools and drugs, the Erisavenus began working on its patients.

OOC: Yay, describing the new ships with uber-hospital facilities pays off again! Huzzah!

ooc: Yea! Nice necrons! [/oxymoron]

Ic: The Kazecis in the medbay were silently cooperative, anticipating needs and presenting wounds absentmindedly. Well, those that could did. They were distracted, but grateful.

The arrival of the Erisavenus over the planet didn't affect the Kazecis, their vessels continued to drift without power. That wasn't going to change any time soon. If anything was to happen, the Ctan would need to initiate it.

The ship coasted into orbit over the planet and scanned it again, considering ‘options’ it seemed no one was interested any more, and it dispatched a small object that could roughly be described a ten-metre pyramid to an area outside of the colony’s exterminated capital.

Once there it would deploy worker-units to scan through what remained of the colony’s records in order to try and determine the locals’ funerary customs. It seemed like the least it could do,

That done, it turned its attention to the bullets, Do you wish to come aboard? Do you require any other assistance?

OOC: Sorry, got caught up writing other stuff today.

The void was silent for a long moment. Still, vast, and dark. More than anything; dark. Physically, yes, but for the Kazecis it was more emotionally dark than a mind untroubled by such loss could comprehend. Yet, a reply came.
Y- yes.

“I suppose I’d better get down to the aft bays then?” Anárion asked, rising from his chair. The main aft bay was a hundred meters high and five hundred meters across. At its narrowest point, the bay was two hundred meters wide. It was large enough to hold four Nightingale class frigates, or twelve of their Menelmacari predecessors. The bay was attached to similarly huge fabrication chambers on either side, which allowed the Erisavenus to construct its own escort craft in that bay.

At the moment, however, the bay was empty but for a few fighters mounted high in a sub-bay on one of the vast walls. Anárion watched as the ship pulled the Kazeci bullets into this vast chamber.

The Bay's light now streamed through the windows of the bullets, causing streaks of light to illuminate the heavy air within. Still, the Kazecis didn't react. The present, the physical, neither existed beyond a serene and unreal notion. One stirred, however, his mind struggling to push aside the recent trauma and exist in the present. His voice would be recognized as that in the transmission moments prior, and would serve in the stead of the other voices in the time to come.

Anárion walked across the bay and blinked at the Kazeci, “Are you the only one who’s coming out?” he asked, and then shrugged, continuing to ask the other relevant question, “And, where would you like us to take you?”

The ship didn’t precisely know where Kazecistan was. They had a general idea of the galactic location, but that was mostly from triangulation of vague-directions they’d got now and then.

Bryce's words were labored and separated by long pauses. "It's- not easy for us," keep it together, "right now." He spoke almost like a child, struggling to deliberately pronounce every syllable correctly and without inflection. "Ka- Kaz- Kazeci space," Another deep breath interrupted him. "There are maps in the B- bullets' databases" That would have to surface. He fund it hard to look at the man. His jaw moved repetitively, as if he were about to start a word, but no sound was made. Suddenly he turned around and speed-walked back to the bullet, stopping at the door. He leaned in and placed a hand on the nearest officer's shoulder, motioning slightly with his head. Slowly they followed him out.

"W- where may we stay." He uttered the words softly as he looked up, his eyes once again meeting Anárion's. Slowly, the other passengers left their transports as well, clustering together as they moved away from them.

This is bizarre, Anárion thought, as the Kazecis came out of their pods. “Please, follow me,” he said, and led them to a lift, which rose smoothly out of the bay’s floor – it was better than walking through the cavernous space – and was surprisingly large, large enough to accommodate small vehicles it would seem. He sub-vocalised his concerns into a small implant, and listened to the ship’s response.

Anárion wasn’t anywhere near as knowledgeable as the ship, of course.

“Their stress response is very different from that of humans, yes,” the necrontyr had a lot of data on that topic, “They are not strictly human, no matter how much they resemble them. It seems as if they are in a partially catatonic state, both these ones and the medical bays.

“I have dispatched a drone to retrieve the maps. Tell them we will arrive in half an hour.”

Why so long? Anárion asked.

“Because I don’t wish to give away how fast I am capable of travelling without need,” the ship whispered through the communications unit in his ear.

The lift let them out in a section at the rear of the bay, where glass windows looked out over the bay. Sitting rooms and refectories dotted the area, of various styles, and long corridors broke off towards the distant bows of the ship.

“This is the guest accommodation,” Anárion said, “they’re all very much similar,” that said, no two cabins were actually the same. Uniformity was frowned upon in the modern necrontyr culture. The necrons were often keen to distinguish themselves as individuals, except when possessing largely identical, interchangeable and expendable combat bodies. Long ‘imprisonment’ in those bodies was one of the reasons for such a cultural bias against uniformity. Hence, the interior arrangements and décor of every cabin was unique.

The cabins could hold two people, or even three, but were ideally for one, and the extraneous beds folded away into the walls. Anárion told the Kazecis that they would arrive in half an hour, and checked if any were injured again.

They each sort of wondered off into different rooms, desiring to be alone with their thoughts. Strangely though, their thoughts were few and far between: consciously blank minds, sort of like they were 'zoning' or 'spacing out' but some how different. Each would wait out the journey alone.

Bryce forced himself once again to contradict this urge. It would be best if he was available once they reached the Kazeci boarder. Following after Anárion, he spoke in a short and coherent blurb. "The boarder security will wish to speak with me."

“Boarders? In space?” Anárion suppressed the urge to laugh; it was generally held that because of the inverse square law, borders in space were an anachronistic waste of time, and that resources were better spent simply defending planets and other items of strategic interest. Many FTL systems allowed intruders to just ‘jump’ on top of something anyway…

Nevertheless, Bryce was taken up to the ship’s ‘command deck’ a fairly small space with walls currently faded to a iridescent sheen, and various screens and such that displayed the ship’s status, even though the ship ran itself, there were many spaces in its forward hull that were simply designed to fill up the space, as the ship had only a relatively small proportion of its mass dedicated to functional systems, and a large percentage of the rest was areas, like the fabricators, or hospitals, or the huge mission-gear bays that contained just about every gizmo one might have a need for, ranging from jetcycles to tents.

The Erisavenus headed towards a border patrol…

Bryce 'came back' a little more at his comment, some urge to respond triggered within. "Kazeci boarders are more of a courtesy than anything. Guests are requested to check in at the edge of Kazeci territory for formalities, boarder patrols give directions and deal with pirates, mainly. Actually pulling vessels out of FTL is rare and only happens in the inner territories when a large vessel or groups of vessels charge in without warning or welcome. Kazecistan can keep tabs on everything with their border security measures in place."

True to his word, the boarder patrol flashed into existence shortly after they arrived at the edge of Kazeci controlled space. Welcome to Kazecistan, Ctan vessel. You're speaking with Kazeci boarder patrol, in particular, the KNS VorNam. What is your reason for coming to Kazecistan today? The frigate was dwarfed by the four kilometers of ship that it greeted.

Bryce spoke, assuming that the transmission would be initiated to two-way by the vessel or its crew. You're speaking with Kazeci diplomat Bryce, Alpha Four-Zero.
The other captain was startled, he now spoke in a stiff military tone. Alpha-level diplomats out ranked him significantly.Sir, beg pardon, but where did you procure a 4 click Ctan vessel?
I didn't. The surviving crew of the now lost Heavy Battle Carrier SharNevar are aboard.
The other captain sat, stunned, while Bryce discontinued the conversation. "If you would, the boarder station is relatively close. Your sensors ought to be able to pick up the activity around it. We will disembark there. Thank you for everything." The frigate jumped to the station, preparing the traffic controllers for such a large arrival.

The Erisavenus changed course, and Anárion nodded a little as the flight deck’s displays changed. The ship, meanwhile, once it was satisfied there was nothing else particularly interesting inside the Bullets, returned its attention to the hospitals fully as it took a few more in-depth scans of Kazeci anatomy. It had to do something to pass the short time until its arrival, after all.

In a moment the station came into view. There were several, actually, a small ship yard, the main station, and a trading station. A large few large scaffolds made up the body of the shipyard, which was on the opposite side of the military station as the trading station. The orangish trading station had a semi-organic, five pointed design, with each of the fat 'arms' forking in two at their end. Docking for small and medium vessels ringed the outside edge and was at about 67% use. Small and medium vessels of many origins bustled every where, their navigations' slaved to central navigation to avoid collision and increase efficiency. Larger vessels sat below and above the scene, swarmed with tiny tugs and immobile.

Upon their appearance, free tugs approached. The central station navigation command (CSNC) sent an automated transmission. Our tugs are currently approaching your vessel. Due to your size, free movement within this area is restricted. They will cause your vessel no harm, and will also be a means of transportation for supplies and personnel should you require one. Please power down all engines and allow the tugs to take you to your designated holding position.
Once they accepted, the disk-like tugs attached to the outer hull. Initiating thrust in unison, they carried the huge vessel to the 'highest' holding position and brought it to a very gentle halt. Mobile docks approached, not a great deal bigger than the tugs, they had an arm with which to attach to external doors and hatches through which people could walk. At the other end was the dock to which 4 bullets could attach simultaneously and provide shuttle service.

A more personal message was transmitted from the station. I am Admiral Shmit, military leader of this portion of Kazeci space and commander of this base. First and foremost, I would like to personally, as well as on behalf of all of Kazecistan, thank you for the lives you have saved and the service you have provided, you have our deepest gratitude. Should you wish, you will be made guests of honor at a dinner that will be held in your name. Currently a hospital vessel approaches for patient transfer, beaming is the preferred method.

The Erisavenus was having two conversations at once, speaking to an operative who’d only just arrived on a planet half the galaxy away, The ship listened to the messages and permitted the tugs to attach themselves to its hull – although it was ever so slightly insulted by the insinuation that it might need them to guide it, it allowed them to move it around, artificially lightening its effective mass to allow them to do so easily, and also make itself seem less powerful than it was for Kazeci records – they were no doubt measuring its mass, from which they could derive engine power by watching it manoeuvre, and therefore reactor power.

Back aboard its bridge, it displayed Admiral Shmit’s message. Anárion blinked, “What’s beaming?”

“To my understanding it is a form of teleportation which breaks down the subject and reassembles a copy at the destination. Much like the materialise setting on a gauss-flayer.”

“That’s…” Anárion considered for a moment, “not nice.”

“Many people use it and put considerable faith in it, though it is far inferior to displacement. A similar mechanism was used for a while among the ancient Necrontyr, actually, before it fell out of favour when one too many duplicates were created. Anyway, I’m sending an acknowledgement, and offering to send you over to consult with them about our next course of action…”

Thank you Admiral. I suggest that I send my “captain” over to meet with you and discuss further action related to the massacre of the colony.

OOC: And with that, I suggest we wait for Mizara’s follow-up thread!

ooc: can do.