NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: My intro into FT Roleplaying. Open to nations detecting the test and deciding to make First Contact. Hope you enjoy.

---

'And the Fuhrer said upon to the people, "Lo, and I shall lead you to peace and victory in our lives." And so did the civil wars stop, and the killings stop, and peace was brought about to the survivors of the atomic holocaust. And lo, did the Fuhrer take his children to the great city of Taloz, and did cry unto the false leaders, "I shall let you harm my people no more." And did the people uprise against the false leaders, and so placed the Fuhrer into power as rightful leader of the children of Taloz.'

'And lo, did the Fuhrer look down upon his children from the throne of Taloz, and did declare with all his passionate heart, "I shall see no more harm come to my people, no more bloodshed between our own kind. I shall lead you all into glory. Like the Blood Eagle, Taloz shall spread its wings." And did the people rejoice with much happiness, for they were now safe.'


Extract from the Talozian holy text 'The Rebirth of Taloz' (Chapter One: Genesis), written by the Prophet John. Reproduced with kind permission of the Talozian Federation Central Library.

---

The Talozian Blood Eagle is an interesting animal, somewhat unlike many other creatures in the universe. Similar in size and physical frame to the Bald Eagle of Earth, the Talozian Blood Eagle is jet black, with pupil-less red eyes. Like the Bald Eagle, it preys on most creatures. However, unlike most other animals, the Talozian Blood Eagle feasts upon the life-blood of its victims. It would wait in the darkness of the now-decimated Talozian forests, completely still and unseen until the moment of attack. Then, like Satan incarnate, it would spread its jet black wings and swoop upon its victims with hellish eyes before tearing into its flesh and drinking the life-essence below the skin.

That was nearly three centuries ago. Today, the forests are gone, no more than fields of burnt and decaying wood, tragic monuments of the Great Holocaust, branches reaching out feebly like the blackened hands of the countless millions killed. The few surviving Blood Eagles are now in underground reservations, kept alive as sacred symbols of Talozian power and strength.

Across the blackened landscape, the great Ring of Five stood defiantly against the scenes of tragic destruction upon the rural landscape. The Ring of Five, the great Hive Cities of Taloz, were the only survivable garrisons of Talozian-Human life across the scarred planet. Mighty industrial and agricultural complexes walled within gigantic barriers and protected from the unforgiving radiation of the countryside by reinforced domes, these were the candles of life in the graveyard of Taloz.

At the centre of the Ring stood the greatest city of the Ring. Taloz City, the capital of the entire body and the Holy City of the Talozian Throne, it had been 500 years since the great Fuhrer Jusan had lead survivors of the Great Holocaust to the Holy City to overthrow the last surviving leaders of the Taloz Colony and claim his position. Since then, peace had reigned. Taloz had prospered. The Federation had been declared.

At the centre of Taloz City, the Most Holy Palace of the Fuhrer stood behind walls of reinforced diamoncrete. Jet-black armoured troops of the 1st Federation Palace Guard kept a constant and untiring vigil on the immense home of the Federation’s leader. Statues of past Fuhrers lined the main driveway from the Holy Gate to the Palace itself. Seven great men, each chosen by their predecessor to wield ultimate power in the Federation, to keep the peace and advance society. Fuhrer Gregor, Fuhrer Danielson, Fuhrer Zed, Fuhrer Moham (the ‘Bastard Fuhrer’), Fuhrer Ying. At the steps of the Palace, taller than all others and surrounded by guards against vandalism, the solid gold statue of Fuhrer Jusan, staring defiantly at his children from his fifty-foot vigil.

’Wonder where mine will be?’ mused Fuhrer Statler. The supreme leader of the Federation of Taloz stood on the balcony of the eight floor, looking out across the front of the Holy Palace complex, thinking to himself on his eventual immortality. There was a standing policy that statues could only be erected following the death of the Fuhrer in question, laid out according to a vague passage in ‘The Rebirth of Taloz’, but it had come to be seen as distasteful to construct your own image in mortal life. It annoyed Statler to a degree, but he suppressed his own egotism for the greater good of the holy texts. ‘After all,’ mused the Fuhrer, turning from his vigil and stepping back into the Most Holy Throne Room, ‘If the leader cannot follow the rules, then who else can be expected to?’

The Most Holy Throne of the Federation stood in the centre of the room. As a throne room, it was incredibly sparse. The walls were a drab military grey – much like many of the surfaces of the Federation – with bare walls. Several banks of computers stood at one end of the room, allowing communication in times of crisis when manned. They were currently silent. The room seemed more like a prison cell than anything else. Statler preferred this – it kept his mind clear of distractions, kept him focused on his task of ruling the Federation.

The throne itself stood a little higher than its surroundings, and was equally as sparse in decoration. A grey, metal frame was comforted by several cushions, allowing some ease of use to the seated. The throne, like the Federation, addressed itself to a lack of distraction and a reverence of utilitarianism. So it was written, so shall it be.

But today, the Fuhrer was unusually excited. As he took his seat, he moved his hand over to a switchboard on one armrest of the chair, and keyed in a sequence of buttons, waiting with anticipation to discover the news he wished for. He leaned his head against the backrest of the throne, and pushed the input switch.

The Jack on the back of the throne slammed forward into the input socket of his skull, causing the Fuhrer to grimace momentarily. He felt the immediate sensation of floating, and he opened his eyes to find himself drifting inside the ISAD; the Information Sharing Acquisition Database.

Taking a moment to collect his thoughts, the Fuhrer moved himself forward through the darkness of the ISAD, passing doorway after virtual doorway until he reached the correct address. It opened automatically due to the Fuhrer’s complete clearance, and the leader of the Federation began moving through the information of the Federation Space Probe Agency.

The news pleased him. The FSPA Matter/Antimatter Reactor tests inside the laboratory had gone well. Project Blood Eagle had now been towed into orbit of Taloz for the live test, and was awaiting his final confirmation.

With a mental nod of the head, the Fuhrer authorised one of the most important steps towards the revival of the Federation.

---

General Andre Washington stood on the Bridge of the TF Korg and stared out of the viewscreen to the unusual device floating in space ahead of them. The orbital spaceship had been pulled from its regular orbital surveillance mission and assigned to watch over Project Blood Eagle. Under any other circumstance, assigning one of the only three surviving orbit-capable vessels to such a project would be unthinkable, but Blood Eagle was a special case. General Washington knew that, should the test work, it would herald a new era of importance for the FSPA.

Resting in his chair, the General leant back and lit a cigar. Thin wisps of smoke permeated the air around him. He relaxed his posture momentarily, only to snap back upright as a light flashed on his chair-side console. The Fuhrer had given the go-ahead.

“Condition Red!” the General barked, leaning forward in his chair. A klaxon sounded across the bridge as non-essential personnel vacated the room. “Helm, break umbilical and back us off to a stationary twenty-five kilometres distance,” he ordered.

Outside the craft, the several fuelling and electricity cables connecting the Korg to the bulbous device detached, retracting swiftly into the larger vessel as it backed away. General Washington watched on his monitor until his ship had reached the calculated safe-distance from a potential explosion, and leant back into the chair. He hated connecting to the ISAD, but it was both necessary and quicker to access military information in most cases. He winced in pain as the Jack cable slammed into the back of his head, and then took a moment to collect his thoughts before moving through the LAN of the Korg. Once he found the appropriate address for connecting to Blood Eagle, he mentally accessed the gateway with his personal pass-code. Once inside, he navigated his way to the start-up protocols and gave the final safety codes for reactor initiation. The entire journey on the ISAD lasted five seconds.

Outside, the test vehicle powered up. Several semi-transparent plates along the craft glowed with the interior power of the primitive M/AM reactor as the onboard computer ran through the beginning of its programming.

“All systems check green,” reported a crewman, but Washington already knew. The ISAD fed information directly in front of his eyes as to the power output, stability of containment and the stages of the test program.

After several preliminary safety tests, Blood Eagle rotated on its centre axis, tiny reactant jets firing to adjust its direction. Once established on a programmed course towards the orbit of Taloz II, a gas-giant several Aus from the Homeworld. The General watched with bated breath as the program reached its pinnacle. “Here it comes,” he breathed.

The test craft seemed to explode with light along its entire frame, stretching out like a line along its programmed course. A brilliant flash several kilometres ahead of the craft signified the light-barrier being broken, as the rest of the outline sprang forward along the light like a slingshot, disappearing into space.

The General watched on ISAD as the computer continued sending back information on containment, power output and reactor stability. The entire journey would last thirty seconds, but it seemed like an eternity.

Presently, the program came to an end, and reported back. Washington grinned, knowing even before his Navigator announced to the bridge that Blood Eagle had successfully transited to orbit around Taloz II and shut down safely. As cheers went up around the bridge, Washington methodically stepped back to the Korg’s LAN and transmitted the sensor logs to FSPA Command for further analysis.

A new era was born.

Bump

OOC: Welcome to/or back to NS.

IC: The Eternals knowing that the planet of Taloz had been inhabited now picked up a light speed jump signal relatively close to the world and the Eternals decided to send a ship to the system in order to establish contact with the people dwelling on the world.

On the border of the system came a golden ship made of liquid metal which glowed like a small star. From it came a number of signals in the unknown writing system of the Eternals. Yet, the messages seemed to bid people to respond with a message of their own.

The bridge of the Korg was a scene of trepidation. General Washington had allowed the crew the privilege of a single glass of the ship-board alcohol supplies in celebration of this momentous event. Officers and crew laughed and joked together on the Bridge, whilst Washington stood from his chair and cleared his throat. The room instantly became silent.

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” he announced, holding his glass high for emphasis. “This is truly a great day for the Federation. Let us raise a toast.” He waited until all others had followed suit with their glasses, and then continued. “To the future of the Federation,” he began. “To the expertise of this fine crew, their engineering counterparts at the FSPA, and to the most holy and revered Fuhrer; let him guide us forth in wisdom and knowledge, kindness and spirit, fatherly affection and discipline.”

“The Fuhrer!” the crew onboard the Bridge echoed, and took eager swallows from their glasses. General Washington finished his, and waited momentarily for everyone else to catch up. “Now,” he began. “Let us prepare for-”

“Contact, sir!” the Sensor Operating Officer announced aloud, causing Washington to turn to the man. The SOO was staring intently at his scanner screen as it sent out radar waves into space. “Large object, direct intercept course, approaching from outside the system.”

Washington raised an eyebrow. “Alert stations!” he barked, taking his seat once more. Leaning back into his chair, he reconnected to the ISAD and accessed the Korg’s radar system. “My God,” he breathed. “Condition Red, go to Battle Stations.”

The Klaxon sounded again as the First Officer keyed in the microphone. “Condition Red, Condition Red, all hands to Battle Stations, rig for weapons release.”

Outside the Korg, two missile tubes on the fore of the rectangular hull slid open as inside the Missile Bay, crewmembers slammed a pair of weapons into their launch tubes and sealed the interior hatches.

“General, we’re receiving a transmission,” the Radio Operating Officer announced. Washington frowned, accessing the Radio system and listening in on the broadcast. It sounded like complete gibberish to his own ears, and the computer could not translate it into any known language from Earth. “Send out our own message,” he instructed.

The ROO reacted swiftly. Outside the Korg, a radar dish momentarily extended from the side of the craft and pointed in the direction of the incoming craft.

‘This is the TF Korg of the Federation of Taloz to the unknown object on our Radar. Please identify yourselves.’

Exterminate? No, Courtier. This demands my attention more closely. Extermination is no longer possible for those who may serve the Purpose. The Purpose must be fulfilled. And these may be useful pawns.. yes. Perhaps we should communicate with them.

Throughout the lattice, tingles of thought erupted, and the matrix of energies that was colloquially known as Courtier thought. And it came to a decision. A single piece would be moved towards this new race. They would study it. And, if it proved to be inimical to the Purpose, they would attack.

The brief surge of energy had gone unnoticed, in fact. It was not that that drew the Maker-Mind's attention towards the system. It was the Eternals, as the little beings called themselves. They felt unmistakable - busybodying across the universe, and, when one came to preach the message of death through pacifism, it had decided to counter. Normally, it would have not noticed such a thing. However, in nearby systems, Maker-Mind probes had already exterminated two species harmful to the Purpose - it was hard not to notice, when they were already sweeping the area. A trio of Battlespheres materialsed, floating towards the planet.

They would allow the Eternals to approach. They would not strike. They would merely be the graceful latecomers, so to speak...

Yellow eyes stared out the window at the world of Taloz and its shiny new spacecraft, floating in orbit. Eyes that had stared for about two months, waiting and watching. Eyes...

Well, not so much yellow eyes as yellow-lighted optical receptors belonging to a Helper droid aboard the Indeterminably Absent, a Gadget Corporation vessel of the saucer-variety. "So have they finally reached Phase 12?"

A second pair of yellow eyes moved to join the first in staring out the window. "Their Space Age? Yeah, I do believe they have. They've got that big, shiny hunk of junk there."

"And that means we can move in, right? Make contact?"

"I think so. Let me check the BOOK." Cold, metallic hands carried over an indescribably massive text, covered in black binding with gold trim. Written on the cover, also in gold, were the words:

BOOK

Book of Outeruniversal Organizational Kares



The same mechanical hands opened the tome, turning to a page about halfway into the book and read aloud, in a remarkably organic-sounding voice, "Once a primitive civilization has reach the point at which they are able to engineer a means to travel across any point in the Universe beyond their own planet's atmosphere, even should that distance be a mere two meters, one meter, or six centimeters, contact will henceforth be allowed with said race." He closed the book with a slapping noise.

"I'd take that as a yes."

"Oh, indeed, indeed. Let's send them a hello."

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

A transmission was sent across several frequencies, as the capability of the Talozian ship's sensors could not be determined, in a form of multimedia format. If their ships were advanced enough to display holovideo footage, then the image of a large, blue-painted droid would greet their eyes, waving. If they could only manage to view video of the normal, two-dimensional variety, then they would recieve much the same thing. However, should their sensors have been even lower and only able to pick up or display audio information, they would have recieved, in several different languages, including Galacticspeak, only one word: "Hi!"

a sephrion battle group of 24 acendant class warships exit slipstream sir thiers a nation testing primitive ftl technolgy her reported the sensor guy hellm lay in a course taical red alert all ships in battle group asume atack for mation esplion detla 5 the comander ordered over the coms

OOC: Dude, I have a question. Seeing as you're fairly militant and all, wouldn't you need battlegroups for other things, like fighting wars? Or protection of your nation? I mean, sending twenty-four battleships to investigate primitive FTL is overkill in the extreme, no?

prity much i have four fleets this from fleet 1 one asgined to dep space recon

RSS Victoria

The RSS Victoria was almost four months out of Dol Nar territory on a long range survey mission. Approximately 1.2 kilometers long, it carried enough supplies for a year's worth of cruising. It would have to turn back soon.

So far it ad discovered nothing of interest. A few gas giants, some planets that could be colonized. But no aliens.

That had all changed an hour or two ago when long range sensors had picked up a ship breaking the light barrier. Immediately the ship had changed course, moving at flank speed. And now it dropped back into existence, the ship flashing in at the edge of the solar system

Lord-Captain Mikhail Stolypin turned to his sensors officer, "Report."

"Picking up one ship in orbit around a Class-A planet. Also detecting a massive collection of ships on the far side of the system. Also getting something large. Could be a ship. Sensors also showing industry and transmissions from the planet."

Mikhail nodded, "Open a channel."


To the denizens of this system: This is RSS Victoria of the Grand Duchy of Dol Nar. We are on a peaceful exploration mission and picked up your FTL jump. We come in peace. Please respond.

coms to dol nar vessel fromm ussi eliminator interfre with the mision and the battle group that is in sytem wil beforced to cleanse this sector of your presence

RSS Victoria

Stolypin's communications officer looked up from his console, trying not to show his confusion at the message that he was recieving. "Lord-Captain, I'm recieving a garbled tranmission from that large fleet...Something about...elimination...mission...cleanse you..." He shrugged helplessly.

Stolypin grunted, "General quarters. If they intend to simply walk in and take over the system, we're just not going to let that happen. Ready all missile tubes. Power to the particle cannons and rail guns."

ooc ill resend

coms this is the aaccendant class warship the ussi eliminator

to dpl nar vellsile if yoou infterfree with our mission we will forcbly cleanse you from space end coms tatical raise shields arm weapons

((Hey, hey, let's not turn the new guy's intro into a warzone. Things always start out like this...))

It blinked once, then twice as the lens focused and adjusted its view. Three extremely small engines fired to life moving the probe through the system. At first the main focus was the ship orbiting above Taloz and the newest experiment but interest was lost as soon as both departed leaving the planet below for inspection. The inky black probe would have been nearly impossible to see especially since it measured just over one meter in length. Ever on a quest to learn about the greater universe that had just recently been opened to the Myths, a small number of probes had been sent out to locate civilizations and other solar systems. The quest seemed to be a rollercoaster of a ride with systems that were of no interest, systems that held life but no where near advanced enough to travel the stars, and some races appeared to be down right hostile and better left to themselves. For the moment, these people seemed to be much more preferable. The days findings were streamlined through tacheon particles back to Mythrandir's communication platfrom located planetside. As for the probe, it simply shimmered and disappeared from the sector. Moving on to the next.

Many many lightyears away, the small planet milled about with its daily routines of traffic and commerce. Interstellar trade seemed to have picked up slightly but the overall feeling was calm and relaxed. On the planet below residing in the communications terminal facility, there was a bit more comotion. Scenes from the planet below and pictures of the orbiting vessel flashed across the screen along with readouts about atmosphere and planetary features. Before their eyes appeared to be a civilization that could potentially be added to a very small list of contacts. The main officer in the room rolled his chair across the metallic floor and punched in a few numbers on a glass top keyboard that would access the holographic link to the White Tower. A small spindly man answered the receiver in a large open hall. "Yes?"

"Judas, this is Drake from communications. Inform the Elders that we have just received a transmission from probe 13 and it looks like we may have a possible first contact situation that won't get us shot out of the sky."

"I understand. I will notify Lady Murasaki as well. Good day Drake."
---

Images from the probe had been reconned by Murasaki and downloaded to a holographic projector. The small orb floated a few inches above the tabletop flashing the images collected earlier today. Noise drifted from outside a large oaken door. They were here. Murasaki seated herself just as the door flew open with Elder Sebastian protesting all the way though had been expected of him as of late. He strode forward in simple tan trousers with an open sleeveless vest on top that showed off his muscled arms and torso. "This better be important for interrupting a picnic with my wife. Do you know how long we will have to wait for another fruit blossom like that? It happens only once every five years Alurial. Five years may not be long for an elf that lives almost indefinantly but to a human, that's quite a wait."

Alurial, beauty incarnate. Her long flowing dark brown lochs and wonderfully green eyes showed sophistication and a bit heir. "This won't take long Sebastian and then you can go back to your pleasantries. I've never seen a lazier human than you. How Sarah puts up with you is beyond me. The woman must be a saint."

"I am a pleasant distraction from writing her novels. I ease the writer's block in my own way and get her out of the palace when other times she would remain couped up all day long."

Murasaki cleared her throat as politely as possible before Sebastian could gain anymore momentum. Sebastian's eyes narrowed and his head jolted to the side glaring at Murasaki. "WHA-!...oh, sorry Murasaki."

Her long lustrous black hair swayed forward slightly as she bowed her head. "Not at all Elder and I do not intend to keep you long but it seems we are missing two members. Where is Edler Thrandur and Warmistress Shizra?"

Alurial took a seat across from Murasaki, crossing her legs delicatly then straightening the hem line of her dress. "They both made a trip to Dag'goroth to inspect the latest workings of the Forge. We can continue without them though, it's quite alright."

"I see. Then if I can draw your attention to the images above the table, we'll get started. Recently, one of our probes picked up signs of civilization in an out of the way sector of the universe. They appear to be well out of the way of most conflicts and seem to have little dealings with other races. Furthermore, it appears that we stumbled upon an experiment that lead them to their first faster than light travel. But that is just an assumption of course. Their navy appears to be small, smaller than even ours though that is speculation at the moment. All in all, these people seem to be a good candidate for our first contact outside of this system."

A large runed hand stopped Murasaki from proceeding further. Sebastian wasn't convinced. "Why are you so anxious to begin travelling outside of our solar system to make contact with others? As you stated, our navy is rather small at the moment and will remain so for a time because of the work we put into them. Our army is growing much more rapidly than our navy but still not as large as I would feel safe with. We still have a year until the number of our ground forces meets the projected rate. I would prefer to have a million smelly and ugly looking uruks behind me before trumping throughout the universe. For the past month we have seen nothing on the news but war on the outside and I will not risk our peaceful people being thrown into the grinders because we were dragged into it."

"I understand your concerns Elder but that is precisly why we must venture out further than our own system. If we remain here behind closed curtains, then we will eventually come across a sinister force bent on invading a smaller target than themselves. I have watched the news casts as well and the fleets assembled out there would smother our sun casting darkness on us all. By having contacts and possibly forming a few alliances along the way, we can make sure that if something like that ever happened then we would not stand alone. Besides, we have resources that we can offer for trade on the interstellar market. If we prove profitable for many nations, then we will be an economic boon to their economy making us a less likely target for attack."

Alurial shifted in her seat and recrossed her legs. "I believe Murasaki has a point and I think she should be allowed to seek out her own endeavours. Afterall, what good is a head of diplomacy if you don't even use her?"

Sebastian ran his fingers through thick brown hair while thinking it all over. This was much sooner than he would have desired but Murasaki was right, they couldn't hide out here forever. "Alright. I imagine you are already packed and ready to go."

Her smile was wide barely showing the white teeth behind her beige painted lips. "I've already aquired one commercial liner that will take me to the system."

"Not so fast. I will not throw you out there to the wolves of the rest of the universe. We cannot be the only ones to have picked up on the activity of that sector. I want one of our military vessels to take you?"

One of Alurial's brows raised in question. "What would you send? A Wraith is too small to even be considered a threat by ships larger than our battleships and our battleships would appear too confrontational."

"Then we will send Murasaki on one of the Angelic Cruisers. Commander Bruenor's ship just recently docked in the moon port and since he is the closest one, he'll be Murasaki's guide."

"Are you sure you want to send her with the dwarf?"

"Of course. What could possibly go wrong?"

((Hey, hey, let's not turn the new guy's intro into a warzone. Things always start out like this...))

((OOC: Sephiroth started it with his uber-fleet. I'm defending the new guy.))

ooc fleet i only deployed a small battle group

sir weapons lock return the favour paint his ship wit locks from all 24 ships i want all weapons operational and i wanted 1 2 seconds aggo aye sir

((A small battlegroup? That's what you call two dozen Warships? Hate to see your idea of a Large one then, let alone a fleet...Eh.

Last OOC post, waiting for a reply from Taloz. Sorry for the sidetracking))

ooc i call a large one 100 ships a fleet is 251

OOC: Well, if someone's going to jump in a omg-fleet of twenty-five capships for a first-contact mission, I'm out. These always degenerate into firefights, and they're never any fun.

OOC: Well, if someone's going to jump in a omg-fleet of twenty-five capships for a first-contact mission, I'm out. These always degenerate into firefights, and they're never any fun.

OOC: Ditto. I was looking for some interesting first contact. Not a battle with a two dozen ship fleet.

(( Hows about you all just ignore Sephrioth and continue with what was (until he posted in it) a well written and potentially interesting RP? ))

(( Hows about you all just ignore Sephrioth and continue with what was (until he posted in it) a well written and potentially interesting RP? ))

((I always ignore Seph... he doesn't even spell check. His posts are a horrible thing to have to read... besides his "fleets" being used as scouts.))

"Once more... another race enters the stars."

The draconian traced a talon over the sensor screen that floated before him.

"Why must there be so many?"

The ship he was in was small, a corvette class, and cloaked in the outer sector of the system. Another eye and ear of the DO.

The Fuhrer was in a state of major concern. He had been plugged into the ISAD all through the test, and had been watching every single piece of data as it was assessed and transmitted to Federation High Command for further analysis. His feelings of joy at the success of the test quickly turned to puzzlement as the first unknown object appeared on the scanners of the TF Korg, and then to alarm as several other vessels jumped into the system. There was also a lot of radio traffic bouncing around the vacuum.

He placed the transmissions to one side momentarily, mentally assigning them a secondary importance. He then moved to access the central computer database and issued and order to the FSPA High Command, raising the defence status of the Federation to Defence Condition Three. The Fuhrer then took several moments to create a message for the vessels in orbit, before transmitting the message along the planetary communication systems.

’This is the Fuhrer Statler, Supreme and Rightful ruler of the Federation of Taloz. You are approaching the territory of the Taloz Federation, and are instructed to state your intentions. Friendship shall be welcomed by our nation, as we wish to develop and make contact with other nations throughout the galaxy. Hostility shall be punished.’

At the same time, the military planners at Federation High Command instructed the movement of the TF Damocles and Gretchen from their geostationary defence positions over different areas of the planet to rendezvous with the Korg in the case of battle. Alerts were also sent to the 8 planet-based Squadrons of Salem Class Orbital Defence Fighters spread across the Ring of Five to be placed on a five minute scramble alert. Taloz was militarily weak, but it would defend itself.

((Personally, it takes me about fifteen minutes to read four sentences of Seph's posts...))

"Hey, they sent a response."

"Really. Can you make anything out of it?"

"Yeah!...Oh, wait, no. I can't."

"Let the computer translate it?"

"Let the computer translate it."

The pair of Helper drones went back to watching through the window as the console in front of them beeped and booped, flashed multicolored lights, and spun around dials, most of which was just for show. Running the transmission through a defragmentation module and synthesizing all possible languages associated with the words through a linguistics matrix, the ship's onboard AI managed to construct nine hundred sixty-two transmissions. From there, it narrowed them down to four hundred eighty-six by order of probability, then seventy-four through reasoning and logic, then down to one by further order of probability. The translation, which was repeated aloud, was as such:

’I am the Fuhrer Statler, Supreme, Honored sovereign of the Taloz Federation. You are nearing the territorial space of the Taloz Federation, and are being ordered to state your reason for arrival. Peaceful demeanor will be welcomed with open arms by our people, as we seek to grow, as well as initiate communications and relations with other galactic entities. Acts of hostility will result in retaliation.’

"Ah. So that's what they meant."

"Yeah."

"...Are we peaceful or hostile?"

"I don't know. You want to blow up the planet?"

"Not really. You?"

"Nah."

"Then I guess we're peaceful today."

"Oh, agreed. Let's send them a reply!"

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

With the translated alphabet of linguistical information gathered by the Indeterminably Absent's Artificial Intelligence Core, a respondance transmission was sent back to the Korg, and similarly bounced back to the planet's surface in the Talozian language.

[Hey there! This is Reconaissance Vessel 1010110101-01011-2, the Indeterminably Absent, from the Exploratory Branch of the Gadget Corporation Customer Relations Department. We do indeed come in peace, as we offer the gift of knowledge, trade, and, uh...Space Stuff!

After the word "Stuff," an ominous, ghostly "Ooooooooo"-ing sound could be heard from the drones, as if from some feeble and childlike attempt at producing a feel of amazement or wonder; in other words, like a two-bit magician was trying to scare a group of children at a birthday party.

coms to talozs peopole form battle group delta we bear no hatred to your people but it is our standard procedure to deploy a battle group to first conacts

(Wanted to get one more post in since I won't be able to post tonight or Saturday. Hope that's alright)

The Angelic Cruiser, Belzeebub, drifted through the turbulence of the warp. Lightning arced and flickered all about them in the vast darkness. It was a relativly unhospitable environment and Murasaki could not figure out why this was a means of interstellar travel. But in all her years, she never knew of a ship being destroyed because of the instability. They were only ever destroyed when something went wrong but wasn't that always the case. Scanners began picking up readings from their designated system as the ship approached closer to their rentry point. Bruenor sat on his throne seat with his short but rather large legs dangling over the edge. A mighty double bladed war axe rested easily next to the chair within his reach. "Bah it's gotten clogged down there. All the confounded racket and not a single place for me to ease 'er in at. Unless ye wanna get shot that is."

Murasaki was leaning against the back of his chair while her violet eyes scanned over the console. Indeed they were picking up quite a bit of traffic which if she remembered correctly, she could recall what happened the first time they made contact with so many nations at once. It was a good bet someone in there was hostile. "Well I don't think we have much of a choice good dwarf."

Her finger glided over the glass screen until it stopped in an empty sector. "Here. It's not near any of the other vessels and we're not on the Taloz's six. We'll be back and out of the way."

"Alrighty lassie then we're goin' in. Strap it in lads, breakin' through the warp."

Behind and well off to the side of the Taloz ship, energy laced out in thick tentacles pulling back and spewing out the Angelic Cruiser. Weapons offline as well as their shields, it showed no signs of hostility. Only a single energy source streaming out for contact.

"Greetings to you and your people. We have travelled here in peace for an honest meeting to establish a relationship of sorts with you. It is my hope to be able to speak in a more personal matter.

Head of Diplomacy-
Lady Murasaki

Federation High Command was based in Taloz City, several miles from the Holy Palace but still within the heavily protected centre-zone controlled by the 1st Federation Guard. A large building in neo-Georgian style, it housed most of the sophisticated central communications technology that went into planning the movements of military units within and outside the Ring of Five. Several floors of communications equipment were linked to massive Radio and Laser communcations towers around the building itself, signifying it an important centralised structure for Command Decisions.

All the information processed and reported within the Federation High Command went into the ISAD. Thousands of intelligence analysts, database programmers and communications officers input their information directly into the Information Sharing and Acquisition Database. All this information was directly accessible to the high levels of military and civil government, such as the Joint Chiefs of Staff.

The JCS were housed in a single room several floors below the Federation High Command, capable of withstanding massive nuclear attack before being placed under danger. Here, in this single room, the five Chiefs of Staff - Army, Guard, FSPA, Air Force, and the Chairman spent most of their days around a circular table, planning the moves of the Federation according to the Fuhrer's will. Each person sat in comfortable chairs, their heads plugged into the ISAD so as to allow immediate access to relevant information as it was placed at their disposal.

"We appear to be in an interesting position," the JCS Army officer, General Tarrington spoke. "We must plan for possible attack."

"Our forces are at DefCon 3," the Chairman replied, accessing readiness reports as they were relayed from the High Command building above. "In the event of an attack, our reprisal will be swift."

"I would advise a show of force against the aliens," Tarrington replied. "The Joint Chiefs of Staff have the authority to advance military preparedness to any level short of DefCon 1 should the situation be deemed neccesary in the event of no clear orders."

"We have had no further orders from the Fuhrer at this time," the Chairman replied tersely. "We shall not disobey his will."

Tarrington fell silent. The Chairman turned to the JCS of the FSPA, Admiral Wash. "Admiral, what is your analysis?"

Wash took a moment to access his information. "Much superior technology, coupled with strength in numbers, means that a confrontation would be dangerous for the Federation," he replied. "I would suggest advising the Fuhrer to maintain a diplomatic strand at this time."

The Chairman nodded, filing this information in his brain through the ISAD and sending the report to the Holy Palace. "Now, we wait," he sighed.

---

The Fuhrer examined the report. He took several moments to consider his next move, and then transmitted a message to the vessels in orbit.

'We welcome potential friendship from our alien visitors. Those wishing to send envoys shall be allowed access Holy Palace under intense guard for diplomatic discussions with myself, the Rightful and Holy Ruler of Taloz. Coordinates shall be provided. Please note that any attempt to use this invitation in a hostile manner shall be reproached with extreme force.'

tatical whom is our best diplomat in the battle group asked the comander

sir that would be a a meber of psi ops called the shadow we will send him coms to aloz people permison to send a diplomat down

Their reply message was received and rerouted to Bruenor's glass display screen. It all looked promising making Murasaki smile with delight that her gamble could possibly payoff. She only hoped that no one had an itchy trigger finger out there. "Well Captain, I will leave everything in your capable hands while I am away up here. I trust you'll fight along side these people should an alien race prove hostile."

"Notta problem lass but ye'll be taken one of me kin with ye as protection."

The woman sighed and rolled her eyes. "Only if that will make you happy."

Bruenor snorted out a response while wiggling in his seat. "Ye'll have yourself one the best bodyguards out there then."

A message was sent back to the Fuhrer informing him of the impending arrival of the cruiser and the diplomat from Mythrandir.

Your time and patience is much appreciated Fuhrer. Our ship will be arriving to your planet shortly where it will stop a thousand kilometers from your planet's atmosphere. There it will remain out of the way until it is time for it to depart. My shuttle will depart after the Cruiser's arrival so your landing coordinants will be most helpful.

Head of Diplomacy-
Lady Murasaki

Angelic Cruiser Belzeebub, turned from its current location and sped towards the designated planet that housed the Holy Palace. It took several seconds before enough energy could be garnered to send the ship to near light speed.

'The nations of Sephrioth and Mythrandir are granted permission to send envoys to meet with with Fuhrer of the Federation.'

Following this brief response, a communication burst of coordinates aimed in the appropriate direction was transmitted from the antenna arrays of the Holy Palace. On the surface, the 1st Federation Guard - the 10,000 strong elite bodyguard force of the Fuhrer - was mobilised into full force, securing all areas of the Holy Palace from potential attack, whilst other sections were paraded in the centre of the facility to create an impressive display for the visiting dignitaries. The Holy Palace's private landing sight, located at the back of the estate, was prepared for the incoming vessels.

---

"I don't like this," complained General Tarrington. He analysed the Fuhrer's message from the ISAD memory banks with increasing disgust. "We have potentially hostile aliens coming to the Homeworld with no prior knowledge as to their intentions or their backgrounds."

"It is the Fuhrer's will that this should happen," Chairman Tammerville replied tersely. He looked around the Officers in the room. "And I trust no-one here is advocating questioning the Fuhrer's will?"

The room was silent, each man knowing that the question was more a threat than an enquiry. After a moment, Air Marshall Quece, the JCS for the Federation Aerospace Forces, cleared his throat and offered a carefully worded suggestion. "Whilst I would not advocate in any sense disobeying the Fuhrer's will," he said in a level tone. "I would suggest from my own personal experience that all prudent measures should be taken to ensure the safety of the Federation."

Tarrington nodded in agreement. Chairman Tammerville considered the factors carefully. "What did you have in mind?" he asked after several moments.

Quece thought for a moment. "I would suggest," he replied, "that we launch a single Squadron of the Air Force as air cover for the incoming dignitaries and as a show of strength against potential attack."

"We do have the statutory authority," Tarrington added. "Under the preconditions of DefCon 3, limited mobilisation of military assets is deemed legitimate."

The Chairman took a moment to recheck this information, moving through the ISAD to access the Codex Military, the revered holy book of Military regulations written by the 1st Fuhrer.

Article Three: Whilst the Defence Condition of Federation Forces shall be determined by the Fuhrer alone, the Joint Chiefs of Staff, in their authority of executing the orders of the Fuhrer, are allowed to interpret military planning within the strict boundaries of the appropriate Defence Condition, unless explicit orders from the Fuhrer state otherwise.

The Chairman sighed. "Very well," he said wearily. He accessed the appropriate database with a thought impulse and issued an order to one Squadron of aircraft. 'I better not regret this, he thought.

---

VI Squadron, I Wing was one of the 25-strong Squadrons of Salem Orbital Defence Fighters stationed at Taloz City. Located outside of the domed metropolis but linked by several underground railroad and vehicle links, the base was almost entirely below ground, buried deep into the surface of Taloz in order to survive attack by nuclear weapons. Almost 100 feet down, the base comprised several underground structures and a large hanger where Salem's were constantly kept attached to the magnetic rails of their launch tubes at a 45 degree angle. The only other access to the surface was via the Aircraft elevator, which lowered craft back to the hanger after landing upon the Runway on the surface.

Squadron Leader Mark Reynolds had been sitting in his craft for almost 2 hours, and had quickly got to the point where he was playing Noughts and Crosses on the PAN ISAD of his fighter, a perk that he thanked the designers greatly for realising on long standbys. Around the fighter, several technicians slouched, waiting for further orders.

The Salem ODFs were remarkably simple in design. Manufactured to launch and attain orbit quickly with its nuclear payload, the Salem's were essentially Hydrogen rockets with wings, running fuel through a small nuclear reactor to propell it with intense speeds. A pair of nuclear-tipped 50 Kiloton missiles sat on each wing, the basic armament for the rocket interceptor. Due to its simplicity, the Salem was also quite reliable.

An alarm klaxon sounded throughout the hangar, bringing Reynolds back to reality in a snap. He abandoned his game and accessed the Order's section of the Personal Area Network, reading his mission profile. He gritted his teeth and ran through the checklist placed before his eyes by the ISAD. Technicians, suddenly very active, double-checked the Mag-Rail before evacuating the flight deck for the launch.

After several moments of confirmation, Reynolds reached forward and entered the start-up code for the Reactor. Instantly he heard a rumble throughout the craft as the Reactor cold-started, and he snapped off the external power. Taking one look up the Launch Tube, he tightened his grip around the Joystick and prayed his Pressure Suit was working right. "Red One, good to go," he reported into his radio.

The Mag-Rail came alive. Reynold's fighter began rolling up the launch tube, gaining speed on the Electromagnetic catapault as it increased velocity towards the planet surface. A sudden spot of light told Reynolds that the Tube door had opened successfully.

Each fighter of VI Squadron was doing 200 miles per hour when it left the Mag-Rails of the base. After allowing the craft to coast upwards for a few seconds on its own momentum, Reynolds thumbed the start switch on his Joystick and pushed the throttle lever to maximum. Instantly, he was thrown back into his seat as the nuclear rocket fired, pushing the Fighter upwards at ever-increasing speeds towards the planned orbital insertion in two minutes time. Reynolds checked in with the rest of his Squadron, and then settled back in his Pressure Suit, concentrating on maintaining the Insertion Angle on the HUD in front of him.

Stars and planets streaked by in a variety of colors and size at an almost unphathomable rate. It was all almost "pretty" to the woman as she stood staring out the window. There was something about space and all of its wonders that created a beauty all of its own. She stood there daydreaming briefly just as the Cruiser deccelerated to a more normal speed capable of an inertia drive. Stars and planets stopped running by and remained fairly steady from her point of view. Below them was what was assumed to be the home planet of the Fuhrer and his Federation. "This looks like my stop. Goodbye for now Bruenor." She slowly bent down and kissed him on the cheek.

The dwarf was sent off in a tizzy spitting and sputtering while swatting at his cheek. "Durn girl. Ye know I hate wen ye do that. LE'VE!! Take dat durn fool down to the planet and gurd her good."

Murasaki fiegned offence. "Now Captain, if you keep carrying on like that I may think you don't enjoy the pleasures of my company."

Before the dwarf could launch into another tirade, the woman was already off to the docking bay where her bodyguard was waiting. Le've stood next to the shuttle in full gear. His armor would be what once hardly constituted as attractive. It boasted razor sharp spikes on the shoulders, breastplate, back, leggings, boots, and even the gauntlets had rows of spikes. The short red bearded dwarf looked like a porcupine and it was easy to see why he carried no weapon. His armor doubled as a weapon and defense. Le've bowed politely with his armor creaking with the effort.

As was promised, the Cruiser stopped at a distance from the planet and a shuttle was dispatched. It appeared to have no engine output for the most part but three fins with two acting as wings and the other one in the center strecthed back like a flat tail. Their pilot had the coordinants entered into the ship's computer allowing for a more accurate flight path on the HUD, putting them into a navigation pipe and ready to enter the atmosphere.

a lone drop ship tore from the lead warship its inhabat wore no weapon save the stun batton all deplomats were ordered yo carry the drop ship had no weapons it began to entor talozs air space

"...And so I sayz, 'Why not just patch it through the main line?' 'Cuz, you know, that thing is hardly saturated to begin with, won't be until the block four or five revision at the earliest." A rather scruffy looking engineer leaned against the door to a small sensor suite. His jump-suit was stained with machine oil, and his belt was barely able to contain his girth. Somehow, he still managed to maintain a certain charm, albeit a dirty one.

"Why indeed?" answered the sensor officer, reclining with his feet on the console before him. This was a lankier figure, 'thin as a twig and tall as a beanpole,' as the old saying goes. He shoved his hat down over his eyes, and pulled one of his headphones off. "I wonder if all this expandability will be worth it in the end though. The Wasp frigates were almost this modular, and look at them, all delegated to the trash heap."

"Aye... but no Wasp could match this pretty lady." The engineer smirked as he rubbed the wall fondly, showing his slightly yellowed teeth. "These Jennifer Halsey frigates sure are swell gals."

"Hush, Jennifer Halsey is ancient, her grandson is Minister of the Military now you know."

"Oh really... that's not a dynasty at all, is it? Anyways, if'n you were as 'ancient' as I am, you'd think Jennifer Halsey to be a fine lookin lady."

"Heh... maybe..." The officer stretched, and made as if to sit up. But suddenly, a high-pitched wail shot through his headpiece. "SON OF A-" A quick turn of the volume control quickly corrected the situation, which lasted for almost half a minute. "What was that?!?" The sensor officer rubbed his ear ruefully. After examining the console, he turned to the engineer. "We've got contact, some race just made a jump with one of the noisiest units I've ever heard. Go notify Miss Fisher please. I'm gonna nail down this guy's location. Tell her to get down here A-SAP, we might have a first contact on our hands."

"Righto..." And with a speed surprising for his size, the engineer disappeared, the smell of lubricant and stale potato chips lingering after him.

=============================================

The communications officer stared intently at his screen, observing more and more contacts arriving at the old location. He was concentrating so intensely, that he nearly jumped when the silence was broken. "What's out status, Jones?"

"WHA! Jeeze Captain Fisher, you're gonna scare the daylights out of me." He took a moment to collect himself, and plunged right in. "We've got what looks like a young race making its first F-T-L test. It would be all hunky dory, but their generator is loud enough to call in quite a few curious onlookers. There's at least two dozen Sephrion warships, plus some stuff we have no record of. Whole slew of craft converging on that location."

"Well then... let's get over there, shall we?" She turned to go, moving gracefully out the door. "Forward the coordinates to the bridge." Jones hesitated, trying to decide what to say. Finally, he shouted after her retreating form. "Oh! Captain! One last thing. Be warned: I did some long-range scans, the place reads red hot on every threat detector."

"Thank you Jones... I'll keep that in mind."

=============================================

The hundred-twenty-five meter frigate tore into the system, its jump drive sending a brilliant spike on any sensors nearby. Unfortunately, it nearly ran right over the Belzeebub. Alarms sounded, and the whole vessel twisted itself viciously, narrowly avoiding the Mythrandian craft. As it finally regained a reasonable vector, multiple transmissions were sent in several languages, in hopes that they would be understood by someone.

Sorry about that, didn't see you there. You guys okay? If not, we'll give any assistance necessary to repair what we may have broken.

Greetings! This is Captain Kate Fisher of Jennifer Halsey class Frigate Wind of No Endorse exploration and contact fleet One. We detected your test while we were in the neighborhood, and decided to drop by, as have a lot of others apparently. Would you like to meet? If so, name the coordinates.
P.S. I think it would be best if I went to the surface in one of your shuttles. We don’t carry any aboard the Wind, and I’m not sure that you’d like me landing a starfighter down there.

no endorse ship ther tatical guy on bord the ussi eliminator said aft phaser arrays begin tracking it

The sudden arrival of the new vessel both pleased and alarmed the Fuhrer. As he sat in his throne connected to the ISAD, he was pleased at the level of attention the Federation was getting from the international arena. However, as he monitored the near-space radar scans from the ground-based listening posts, Statler was becoming alarmed at the possibility of an armed conflict between groups. His heart skipped a beat when the No Endorsean Frigate nearly collided with the Sephrioth vessel, hoping that the Beezlebub's commander would react with restraint to the situation.

He examined the military situation of the Federation. A Squadron of Salems had been launched by the Federation High Command under their own statutory powers to provide air cover for the incoming dignitaries. Statler got the feeling that the Joint Chiefs were also trying to give a military display. He shook his head so far as the ISAD cable would allow. 'The fools don't seem to understand the potential of what we could achieve or lose here,' he thought.

The Fuhrer sent a short welcome message to Captain Fisher and provided coordinates for the Palace Landing Strip, informing her that the lack of ship-to-surface capable vessels currently in the Navy would permit her to use a fighter to visit the planet, providing no hostile actions were taken.

Statler leant back, scanning the data in front of his eyes like a satin veil on his sight. As an afterthought, he ordered a second Squadron of Salems into the air, just in case the No Endorse-Sephrioth situation got out of hand and spilled over onto the Federation. There would now be a total of 50 ODFs in the skies of Taloz. Statler hoped that this move would not be taken as too hostile by the vessels around the planet.

((Sorry about the late reply. Jolt's been disallowing me from logging on recently...I think.))

"Is the computer done translating yet?"

"Let me check....Nope."

"Well, why the hell not?!"

"...Because we didn't tell it to."

A moment of awkward silence permeated the innards of the saucer as the two drones looked blankly at eachother (Though, being drones, they did that a lot).

"Well...Tell it to start then!"

"I already have, you twit. What, you think I wouldn't after finding out that you were stupid enough to not do so in the first place?"

"Who are YOU calling a twit-Hey, look, it's done translating."

"...So, do we want so send an envoy?"

"Of course we do. What, you don't think Mister Vergii wants fewer friendly operations, do you?"

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

Using the same process as before, the small vessel transmitted a rather-late respondance message back towards both the Talozian Ship and the beacon upon its homeworld.

This is the GCDD Indeterminably Absent. Apologies are in order; it seems we were...experiencing some technical difficulties in translating your message, hence the delay. We would indeed like to attempt to set up some friendly communications with yourselves, and we should be arriving in the next few minutes if you have no objections. The coordinates are, of course, appreciated.

The frigate from No Endorse buzzed past the cruiser narrowly missing fire and death that would accompany a collision of that magnitude. Piloting of that magnitude received a response from Captain Bruenor that roughly went, "YOU DURN FOOL! YA'LL AIN'T THE ONLY ONES IN SPACE!" Followed by a stream of curses, slander, and spitting.

Scanning the ship, the crew from No Endorse would have found that the Belzeebub was not powering up any weapons, opening ports, or changing directions. No hostile action was being taken and the transmission could easily be written off as the babbling of and angry and freaked out dwarf blowing off some steam.
------

Murasaki's shuttle glowed a bright purple as it passed through the atmosphere and entered the stratosphere. They had just passed the squadron from the Federation that was leading them. Le've and Murasaki gave them the benefit of the doubt assuming it was an honorguard instead a show that the new arrivals were not trusted. Though they could hardly blame them if it was the other.

As silent as could be, their shuttle touched down at the assigned landing coordinants. Now it was time for the woman and dwarf to get a good look at the planet's surface. They walked down the small ramp with Le've taking the lead as her bodyguard. Murasaki hoped that these talks would go well as she was now in a bit of uncharted territory. Le've simply crossed his burly arms, and cutting himself from the spikes, while waiting for someone to show them both to the Holy Palace.

the sephrion warship marked the usssi elimintor said phasers tracking sir

The communications officer onboard the NES Wind turned bright red and threw down the headset. "Captain, these guys are less than polite. I recommend that we throw up shields and get away."

Captain Fisher looked at a scanner readout, and then looked back at the officer. "No, I think we can write that off to an uptight second in command having a heart attack without his C-O. I think officers need to be a lot calmer in these situations, don't you? When they get all up tight, shots start getting thrown around." The communications officer turned even more red, and moved back to his post. "Aye ma'am."

"Anyways," she continued, immensley pleased with the Talozian transmission, "Jones, you're in command. I'm going down there."

"In a fighter? You were removed from the Gunship corps for a reason Cap'n."

She glared at him, handing him the stack of transmission printouts. "You overstep your authority, officer. Command the vessel while I'm gone. We can continue this later."

=============================================

A sleek fighter detatched from the NES Wind, and screamed towards the planet. At the controls, Kate Fisher felt like she was home again. Closing her eyes, she could almost see the console of her old gunship... she could taste the vessel she loved more than any other.

But this was only a fighter. Kate's gunship was long destroyed; her only memories were the scars she bore. Her hands slid over the fighter's controls, making the slight adjustments necessary to keep it on the correct flightpath as she eased it into the atmosphere, noting the Talozian fighters all around her. She grinned a little, and pulled a few stunts with her craft, demonstrating its capabilities to the onlookers.

Hi there, fellow pilots. Lovely day today, isn't it?

She continued onward, landing the craft expertly at the designated area, noticing a faint shield glow from the radiation in the air about her craft on the way down. She hopped lightly out of her craft, looking about for someone who might be able to direct her.

ooc: yeah, crappy post, but it's late and I need to reply to this.

e drop shipp on the other hand commed the fighter get outa my way im carying no shield or weapons on this creat an i would rather not crash tis in to your fighter because of your hot dogging the shadow groweled oh sorry for the weapons lock my my tatical oficer is abtit jumpy its his first mission