NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: Me Li has graciously volunteered to be eaten, so no-one can roleplay the Galactics.
IC: The world was a planet of Himmits. Although the froglike creatures made up only 20% of its population, it was unusual for a Galactic Federation planet to be inhabited by any race but the stocky, green Indowy which accounted for the other 80%.

Aldat'an shifted slowly into consciousness, his cold sleep pod swinging open and a sign to the bridge highlighting the way incase he had forgotten his ships layout.

"This vessel will arive in an uncharted system in approximately one hour," chimed the strange voice of the ships AI. "With your permission I will awake the other Kessentai."

"Do it. And the repair parties and Kestain crew, but keep the fighting oolt'os asleep until I order otherwise."

"Your wish." One of the many changes made to the ships AI by its technically adept five-percenter crew was that it talked like a Kestain, in accent and expressions. This helped the Kessentai understand what it was yelling about.

Aldat'an opened the hatch onto the familiar bridge of his Oolt'po'slena'ar, which the thresh of Earth called a "Battle-Dodecahedron", and sat down in his command chair, watching happily as the systems greenlighted. He was one of the few Kessentai to take well to naval combat, learning the controls at a young age and enjoying the feeling of power, as exhilerating as te'aalan and not nearly as clouding of the mind, that came from guiding the guns of a space battleship.

Several more of the senior officers filed in, most of them Kestains, the inferior Kessantai who were the only class both junior and inteligent enough to be trusted with computer consoles when there was fighting and thresh to be had on the ground.

"We're entering the system now."

The B-dec materialized at a hyperspace corridor gateway, guns and thusters coming online, and scanned rapidly for the station that usually surrounded Galactic junctions, passing information from ship to ship and recording cargoes and crews. It found one.

Aldat'an licked his lips.

"Launch fighters and fire with a plasma ray gun. But don't wake the oolt'os yet, they panic if they're woken during a battle."

Ooc: For anyone interested. No big ass fleet yet please! This is closer to PMT for the Humans and definitely FT for the galactic. But the Poseys are bad ass. Here is a link to one of the books of Posey’s by Ringo Gust Front (http://www.webscription.net/10.1125/Baen/0671319760/0671319760.htm)



The Darhel Conclave was in conference. Many mid level managers were slightly annoyed at having to leave their sectors to their ambitious underlings. It provided the younglings with a chance to move up in the Hierarchy. It was most inconvenient but was an absolute necessity. The Darhel preferred to meet in person...the fox-like Elves never placed much trust in transmissions. They knew too well how such communications could be compromised. Indeed, they had done as much and worse over the centuries.

The Altar of Communication was ablaze with the pitiful complaints of some “allied” subject planet of the Galactic Imperium.

There was another Incursion of the Host into a non-vital sector. It was a poor Rimmer world with little economic or strategic power. Normally, it would be ignored, yet this seemed to be a leading edge of a resurgence of the People of the Ships. It was a most troubling prospect! Profits in this sector could be extremely adversely affected! They would need to do something...the debates continue well on into the night.

There is no real resistance to the initial landings save for one insane green captain that rammed one of the Globes with his transport ship. A strange insane act allowed enough time for several hundred million citizens of the doomed planet to clear the gravity well in the other transports and flee out system.

On the planet below, the Host had established a toehold in this sector. The Prey died and the Host feasted on this world as the Darhel Masters debated philosophy and profits.

OOC: That was a little fast. I rolplayed one B-dec arriving to scout the system in preperation for the main globes, so I'll bring it up to speed fast.
IC: The twelve sided ship swung into orbit, having already sent its message to the main fleet, and fractured into its thirteen components. Admittadly, it might have been wiser to eliminate any space craft, but this way meant more booty and more food. The Net might think otherwise, but it was just the Net. What could it do to a much needed First Order Battlemaster?

The craft landed in typical Posleen fashion, screaming down to twenty feet, sending out a sonic boom on the way, picking off anything defensive-looking with their oversized top-to-bottom weapons. When they reached their preferred hovering altitute, ramps swung down and the oolts advanced, charging and firing their railguns and HVM launchers. Kestains were left behind with small guard forces: if the main groups met resistence, then they would advance, "scooping" any rampaging normals to be re-attached to their oolts and escorting ammunition carriers, which then headed back to the landers with the captured booty.

At the gateway, several small globes appeared, each one containing tens of the little b-decs. These smaller ships spread out and fractured in turn down to landers and command ships. One ship conglomerate, as documented, was rammed as it descended, allowing just a few more frogs and dwarfs off the world. Then the Posleen settled down for their celebratory barbecue.

ooc: might want to delete some of those multiple posts?
It was a "toehold." The meeting was in the future seen through fluid time...this world will die. 'Sides you need a RP resource base to begin with before launching deeper raids.

The Himmit stealth technology was second to none. In the known worlds, they were the acknowledged best at hiding and running away. Under normal circumsatances they would have long ago ran away. The Greenies were a fellow galatic, however, the Himmit cared more about preserving their own hide and then their species.

This world held many Frogs...

They watched with macabre dread as the Battle Spheres entered the system...the transports that could quickly left. Many were caught by the Posey decahadrons as they attempted to clear the atmosphere. The fleet was designed for orbital insertion and bombardment. Many of the heavy guns of most Posey fleets were concentrated on the ventral half of the vessels.

The Transports fell back to the loving embrace of the planet below in a shower of molten slag. Those that were not vaporized instantly by the enemy fire or exploded as they re-entered the atmosphere impacted the planet and added to the dust clouds. The sun was already dying in many regions of the world. In some areas it was due to the swarms of defensive droids and shielding that encapsilated the cities. The shields would hold out against much of the bombardment and would protect against the fallout.

They were pearls on a string.

Outside these bastions of saftey and sanity, hell had been unleashed.
The initial horde was joined by several million more stomachs. They began their "harvest" of the Greenies. The damnable Poseys were even able to locate a few of the Hidden Himmit Enclaves. The ship had only been able to extract about a dozen survivors from each before they were forced to flee.

They were now hidden in a relatively safe place. A trench at the edge of the Continental plate, just off the coast of Port XXV. Poseys did not seem to utilize the ocean. Unfortunately, this planet was mostly rolling hills and steppe. Perfect lands for the Horde. Water only accounted for 34% of the surface area. There was only one real ocean, the others were basically large lakes.

The ship would wait until they could sneak away. In the meantime many of the crew had gone catatonic and could not be "awaken." Indeed both the captain and the XO had entered the "retreat" and thus left Dart in charge. He sent yet another report via underwater cable to the buried transmitter requesting the Darhel Galactic Sector Managers to intervene...

OOC: Good point.
IC: The posleen began their favourite after battle activities of eating and looting, the kessentai being allocated areas by the net while the oolt'os just rampaged, eviscerating and guzzling anything that was squishy and not a living posleen. A few B-Decs were left in orbit, picking off any suspicous signals as the host feasted.

And so it began...

The Himmit stealth ship remained hidden for the next ten years. Dart woke from stasis every few months to check the relays and connections...there was nothing they could do but wait. The Foxes sent nothing. Over half of the Hidden Himmits Enclaves were consumed by the Hordes.

The hidden spyeyes recorded the cycle of birth and rebirth...the Horde consolidated their control of this dung pile. They had constructed pyramidal dens throughout the lands. From these centers arose the weapons of the Peoples of the Ship. From the bloody fields and billion sentients dead, the Poseys shat and fertilized the lands. The scars of the "war" were slowly being repaired with the ravages of time.

Yet soon...the End Times will come for the Hordes.

This planet was too perfect for their species. The land was fair and the nonsetient and sentient threesh was abundant. The Path had allocated goodly estates for the original hordes. The newer younglings, however, were numerous. There were now an unestimatable number of the original seed. The Horde reproduced worse than [rabbit-like organism]. They were [locusts] and ate the world bare before rebuilding it in their image. It was impossible! How was it that these barbarians were so advanced? They by rights ought to be killing each other!

The Posey weeds were ready to seed this sector...

Dart sent another frantic message to Sector Command...