NationStates Jolt Archive

The molten planet, its surface nothing but boiling slag, spun out of control, slowly tumbling towards the greedy star which had consumed its brothers and sisters. The star feasted with a prodigious rage, growing even as its long life came to a final climatic end. Its great plumes of fire had slowly reclaimed all that had it had been owed by its orbiting planets. Bits a molten matter spun around the engorged star, colliding and filling the heavens with a storm of fiery fury.

Within this celestial firestorm a single tremendous shadow drifted amongst the chaos. A matt black craft of god like proportions orbited the dying planet. The ship’s surface blistered as it was consumed by wave after wave of destruction. Great globs of inky blackness broke from the ship and were whipped into the approaching star. However, no matter how much of this ship seemed to bleed into the ravenous maw of the firestorm, always a bit more remained. It was an unending feast for the gods’ wrath.

In silent defiance the vessel continued its orbit, its true shape obscured by its own dark eruptions and the doom in which it made its home. However, it seemed to be no more than two kilometers in length, and a kilometer in height and breadth. If one were to observe closely, they would see solid spires amid the turmoil, which protruded from it like so many dorsal spines.

As the craft spun silently, a tremendous shard of some long slain planet began to approach it. Without so much as a murmur, the craft turned to the approaching mass of earth and maintained. Moments later a minute point of energy burst from the fore of the ship. The fires of the surrounding space collapsed upon this speck, and a clear swath was briefly cut through space. However, moments later the point collided with the shard, and it was simply no more. Trillions of tiny bits of stone shrapnel filled space for a brief moment as the mass was torn asunder, and then it was consumed by the flames.

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Brutius felt the fires, and he had felt the last vestiges of that rogue planet destroyed. In his fleshy prison he felt everything, and was nearly mad from the sensation of life. Even still, his brief interludes into the incorporeal sustained him, and his mind did not decay. He was a being torn between two worlds, as were all those who surrounded him, suspended in emotionless machines which sustained his fragile form. Oxygen and food were slowly pumped directly into his body, and waste was removed. However, his mind drifted amongst the crafts systems, at home in its relatively natural environment. He licked his lips, for no purpose but to drag himself away from the burning fires that had coursed through his being only moments ago.

Brutius was the Prime of the ship, and his mind was expansive. Through it all other subordinate to him thought and held their precious conscious. Such was his blessing and such was his curse. He lived a thousand lives, but not a single full existence. Through him the unified voice of the vessel spoke in unerring unity. And so he spoke. His voice, or more accurately his booming chorus, rang out from within. It reverberated for a moment in the depths of his consciousness and then burst into the real, a transmission to all those who would listen.

“Bring us your dead”

He paused and spoke again, thousands of voices speaking in perfect unity.

“Bring us your dead”

The transmission would be garbled, nigh indecipherable to most, laid low by the unending interference of the dying star. Such was the intention. It was the first of the tests, to see those who could truly listen to the murmurs of the deep void.

Should the whispering be heard, would they come, or would they avoid this interstellar bogeyman? Content to leave the dark voices of the void unanswered.

Finally, should they come, could they approach? Could they weather the death of a star to fulfill their journey?

Would they bring their dead, and as such would they be rewarded beyond common comprehension?

This sounds interesting... Will review for possible later post.

Brutius’ face muscles contracted into what he had come to know as a frown. Emotion was not a new thing for him, but he had never grown used to its uncontrollable flow. His expansive mind operated with pin point accuracy, always moving with a purpose. Emotion, however, did not cooperate. In his few precious solitary moments he often grumbled that emotion was something for rogues and Re-ConS. It was his duty to feel, however, and he accepted it. It made him more like that which he must interact.

Either way, he frowned because he had waited a solid day with naught but a stirring outside the fiery vortex in which his ship rested. The frown slowly faded, and he consoled himself. It was a big galaxy, and all things take time. All things take time… but how much?

The Voltaug drifted lazily as it watched the MOSTAR mining constructs gather ore and load it into the Taskmaster cargo ships. Iron, silica and iridium, the lifeblood of everything that the Commonwealth built. Dead and dying systems had abundant amounts of these things and the Fleet Control Groups gathered the resources when there was no serious duty to be done.

The Voltaug scanned the system incessantly, looking for anything of interest, when quite impossibly, it picked up a transmission remarkably from or very near the near supernova. It was regular and consistent. The Voltaug worked to translate it as it dropped it's head down near the control chair on the bridge.

"My Lord, Lord Molech..........." It frowned and repeated itself louder "My Lord......"

The Varanagian slowly opened his eyes, bathing the bridge in a sickening, withering orange glow "What is it, Voltaug."

"My Lord, a transmission from the dying star........." It paused "I am translating it now."
Lord Molech turned towards the Voltaug construct's head " A transmission? Your mistaken, it must be static." He said dismissively in his booming voice, that seemed much too large for his body.

"No My Lord, it is repeating......." It said as it played the scratchy faint missive twice and then again "That is not static.

The Varangian, Lord Molech snorts, sending a stream of noxious black gas into the room, it promptly dissolves the flesh of the two Thilite Marines at one of the control panels, they die screaming "Maybe you are right? What is it saying?"

The Voltaug's thousands of gigaflop processors worked overtime "Bring........Bring out your dead..............I believe........ No, Bring us your dead."

Lord Molech laughs at the irony standing to cross the bridge and kick one of the dying Thilites "That's two, what do.............they? Whomever want with the dead?" the other Thilites on the bridge cower at his callousness "Oh grow up." he sneers at them.

"I do not know my Lord. That is the entirety of the transmission." The Voltaug responds.

"Fine, fine, then move in closer." He says in a commanding tone as he sits. The doors of the bridge open as a more Thilites enter, clean up the dead and two more take their place.

The Voltaug moves closer to the dying star.

The planet was gone now, or should have been at least, as its last remaining shards were shielded by the orbiting vessel. It was an ironic twist, that which had orbited, submissive, now controlled the doom of the world’s final remnants. Almost, at least. The broadcasted shields were taking an tremendous toll on the ships power systems and would only be sustained for a few remaining minutes. An activity of sorts, to pass the hours.

Brutius’ incorporeal conscious turned quickly at the sudden and unknown presence that now floated through its outermost edges. A ship, or a cluster of them, he couldn’t tell exactly which with the blinding pain of the fires about him, was slowly approaching, skirting the outermost reaches of the interstellar blaze. He was immediately filled with excitement and disappointment. Though this was a grand moment, it was also a timid one. The ship, or ships, had made no bold moves, and moved in a methodic manner. He reprehended himself quickly, remembering that he too would be cautious when approaching a mysterious transmission.

After another moments thought, it occurred to him that his location was likely unknown within the chaos. He had no intentions of contacting the foreign vessel unless it managed to approach, but he could offer a clue.

Slowly the massive vents along the dorsal and under sides of the craft began to vent tremendous amounts of reactor energy at a slow and controlled interval. A competent scanning system should be able to pick out the ships exact location with this information. He waited.

Sweat stained the sheets of her bed as she tossed and turned. A nightmare tormented her sleep. Oh the blessedness of such nightmares! The elation they brought her! Beatriz's body racked with the sweet pain of yet another visit from her chaos godess. This one showing her to a new possibility for her family line. A new power for the dark elves of the Underdark, one that may help bring down the acursed light elves that now lived without fear of the terror that she and her kindred had wrought nearly a century ago.

GO MY SERVANT. YOU ARE MY HAND IN THIS MATTER AND I WILL NOT TOLERATE INSOLENCE. SEE WHAT IT IS THEY DESIRE AND YOU WILL KNOW IF IT PLEASES ME.

Eyes clenched shut as she glimpsed the mighty spider godess, "Yes my Godess." Beatriz's eyes snapped open to see the ever encompassing darkness of the Underdark caverns. Her head rolled to the side to see that her companion for the night must have grown tired of the tossing and turning. Ah well, she would forgive him this night. Luckily for him, execution was far from her mind. There was an errand for the Spider Queen to be conducted. But she would need a ship...

Her bare breasts rose and fell rapidly from the throws of her nightmare. Pale skin glistened in the light from the warm stalagmites outside her palace windows. Guards were still most likely on patrol along the walls in the event that any rival house felt like making a move against her own for favor in the eyes of the Godess. White sheets from the bed fell to the side as Beatriz rose and moved to the communication orb at her night stand. Silk white cloth untangled from her waist and fell to her knees. Her dark skinned hand waved over the orb, activating it. "Drafir...Drafir!"

A groggy voice finally answered back from the other end. "...Mistress Beatriz...how may I be of service m'Lady?"

"I need one of our shuttles that are used on Dag'goroth for handling the turbulent atmosphere."

"Yes m'Lady. Shall I inform the dwarves on Dag'goroth to be ready for you arrival?"

"I am not going there. Have the ship ready in one hour and be packed ready to go. I may have use for you during this long trip."

The Voltaug neared the dying star, it's field generators protected it rather well from the effects of the dying star, but it's screen of Dyan-XD Cruisers peeled away and retreated back to the mining and transport vessels, without the powerful resonance generator that the Voltaug sported , they would easily be pulled into the dying star.

Voltaug scanned everything methodically, it's powerful imagers dissecting everything in the system. It found what it assumed was the source of the transmission, and this was confirmed by the regular venting of exhaust.

The Voltaug bobbed it's head near The Varangian again. "My Lord Molech, I have located the source of the transmission, a ship, my lord."

Lord Molech strained to see a ship on the images being displayed on the screen "I assume you're using the word 'ship' loosely, it all looks like debris to me. Power up the weapons, and hail your 'ship' , at the very least we can dissect it it. Call Engineer Onderon to the bridge."

The Voltaug bobbed it's head in compliance and attempted to contact the mysterious ship.

"This is the Warship Voltaug, of Fleet Control Group-D, Of The Autarch's Commonwealth. Please identify yourself."

Voltaug repeated it as it moved in, weapons at the ready.

Brutius heard the words, they slowly leaked in from the sides of his conscious and reverberated throughout his mind. They were mundane, and he smiled, not sure if the motion actually carried through physically. He remained silent for a long while, waiting as the ship drew closer and closer. When it had approached close enough for his criteria’s satisfaction he willed a reply into being.

“We are the Techno Core, bring us your dead for our gift.”

The reply slipped into the void and sped towards the newly arrived warship.

OOC: Sorry Mythrandir, I am not really sure how to reply as of yet

(Quite alright. I didn't expect you to reply to that post.)

To Beatriz, travel through the warp was a thing of beauty in all of its chaotic glory. She smiled as she looked out her bed chambers window into the swirling darkness and screams of energy. Her fingers played at the glass as if she were twirling the warp around her fingers.

Alarms sounded throughout the ship, signifying that they were preparing to exit the warp and re-enter their normal plane of existance. Light engulfed her window as she felt a slight jolt as her shuttle was thrown out of the warp and into normal space. The chaotic beauty she had been admiring since she had awaken was now replaced with the scene of a dying star. Beautiful in its own way. A small snore shook her from her thoughts. Her foot struck out quick and hard, knocking Drafir off the bed and onto the cold floor.

"Wake up you sloth. We've arrived."

Drafir fumbled around the floor looking for his clothes. He grabbed his shirt and pants and threw them on quickly while Beatriz slowly rose from the bed and walked over to a closet. She pulled out a sheer black dress for the occasion then collected Drafir to head to the bridge.

"Have you picked up anything within this system?"

The dark elf at the control was slow in responding as he tried to sort through the static and problems coming from being so close to a dying sun. "We've detected two vessels thus far. One is insanly close to the sun while the other is some distance away. Shall I hail them?"

"Yes but not as a shuttle from Mythrandir. I doubt anyone knows our runic alphabet so there is no need to involve the name of our little nation here. Besides, I doubt my daughter would be pleased by all this."

"Then what should I say?"

Beatriz mulled over a response for some time until she thought of something more appropriate. She turned and glided up to the throne chair on the bridge. "I shall handle the response."

Light flashed around her as the communication system came online feeding both audio and visual. The dark elf looked up with a slight grin. "By the Chaos Godess I have come. Her malevolent hand has guided my steps to you so that her glory may be furthered in all things. I am her servant and thus am Her in the flesh. We have come to see what you may do for our cause and perhaps what it is we can do for you."

Voltaug frowned as it struggled to translate the latest text from the mysterious 'ship' and then finally relayed it to his Varangian master.


“We are the Techno Core, bring us your dead for our gift.” Voltaug intoned.

Molech snorted, again sending out a cloud of noxious acidic gas , the Thilites were prepared this time and had sealed their armour, none of them suffered any ill effects. "Gift? What gift? In exchange for a few corpses?"

Lord Molech stood and was about to give a command when Voltaug bobbed his head and split the main viewing screen "Another ship has just entered the system."

The Mythrandir ship was juxtaposed on the screen next to the other ship, and Voltaug began dutifully scanning it, it turned back to Lord Molech "It is a ship of unknown origin."

Volatug played the much more easily recognized video and sound stream from the Mythrandir ship:

"By the Chaos Godess I have come. Her malevolent hand has guided my steps to you so that her glory may be furthered in all things. I am her servant and thus am Her in the flesh. We have come to see what you may do for our cause and perhaps what it is we can do for you."

Lord Molech chuckled at the visual of the dark elf woman "Mining just got a bit more interesting..............ask the first ship what 'gift' it means and open a channel for me to the second ship."

Voltaug bobbed his head again and immediately responded to Brutius:

"My Lord asks what is the nature of this gift?"


At the same time a channel was opened to the Mythrandir ship and Lord Molech addressed the new comers "This is Lord Molech, of The Autarch's Varangian Guard. We are in control of this system and everything in it, what is your business here?"

Lord Molech awaited responses.

"M'Lady, there is a message coming through from one of the ships in this system. They claim that they are in control of this system and would like to know what it is we are doing here."

Beatriz read over the message in its entirity, scrutinizing its every word. "They are not the ones we are here for. Their presence is of no concern to us. Maintain focus on the ship closest to the sun."

One of the officers expanded the picture of the ship that they were focusing on and translated it to the main holographic screen up front. "What shall I tell this....Lord Molech?"

"I shall handle it."

Once again Beatriz assumed command of the communications. Her image was fed back to the corresponding ship. The image of her sitting in the high backed stone chair with her legs crossed flared to life. "We are here in search of those that possibly posses the same talents as we do. It is all to further the Chaos Godess's glory. Anything else is irrelevant to us."

Brutius’ ship slowly turned within the blazing light bringing the shielded remnants of the planet between him and the newly arrived ships. Though he trusted the strength of his ship, he knew that his absorption net was constantly skirting critical mass as it hovered near the star. Each massive black globule that was shorn off the surface of the heavily armored craft carried with it massive amounts of energy, saving the ship from its ill effects.

Despite this precaution, Brutius was thrilled with the arrival of a new ship. However, a reply from the initial visitor demanded his immediate attention. As he began to formulate a reply he was troubled by a faint physical sensation. His vast consciousness retreated to his frail corporeal body and he immediately realized that he had to urinate. Releasing the equivalent of an annoyed sigh he ran the protocol to dispose of his waste.

Brutius hated taking a physical form, and worse yet a biological form. The Core could have at least given him a construct form, but what can one do. After a few moments he turned his attention to more pressing matters.

He slowly formulated a reply to the initial ship. He decided that it would be best to be a bit less cryptic this time around, and make a few more concrete demands.

“This gift, is our most prized creation. It is a way through the dark of the universe, gates that span the infinite voids that separate here from there. Farcasters. Through a farcaster you can travel nigh infinite distances in a moment, as long as there is another farcaster where you are going. We shall gift you with this, and in return we desire your dead. Ten thousand corpses.”

He knew the sudden clarity of his message may seem… out of character. However, he doubted they would truly understand the nature of a farcaster until he sent them the schematics. Of course, that’s assuming ten thousand corpses soon sat within his hold.

He turned his attention to the second ship, also composing a reply.

“We can revolutionize your cause, we can gift you with a way through the dark. We can bestow you with the farcaster, our most prized creation. Distances and time become trivial in the face of its glory. For us, however, we desire ten thousand corpses.”

He floated, and he waited.

A response to her original message. Beatriz was eager to see what their response was. The shuttle maintained its position with relative silence as the dark elf looked over the message. It was indeed intriguing. Such a device could truly revolutionize the Chaos Goddess's glory along with the kingdom's altogether. Of course there would be the explaining of how she came upon this technology but she was confident that she could formulate an excuse that would be easy to swallow for everyone.

There was only one problem. Ten thousand corpse was a lot, even for the Bog. If they did not desire them all right now, it could be done in a rather short amount of time.

"Your offer intrigues us. Such a device could indeed help the spread of our minions but the cost is high though may be well worth it. Ten thousand corpses will take some time to deliver and we will need an appointed delivery location. Still, I do have an inquirery for you. Do you want your dead animated or still?"

Once again Beatriz assumed command of the communications. Her image was fed back to the corresponding ship. The image of her sitting in the high backed stone chair with her legs crossed flared to life. "We are here in search of those that possibly posses the same talents as we do. It is all to further the Chaos Godess's glory. Anything else is irrelevant to us."

Lord Molech paused before he answered as the Navigator Engineer Onderon arrived on the bridge, his cumbersome armoured form distracted him for a second , he then replied to the woman on the 'intruding' ship:

"Gods and goddesses do not concern The Autarch, their power and existence is fleeting and transient compared to his might.

I will determine the value of this system, and if it pleases The Autarch, I will sell you anything you are interested in that He does take.

I believe that is fair?"


He slowly formulated a reply to the initial ship. He decided that it would be best to be a bit less cryptic this time around, and make a few more concrete demands.

“This gift, is our most prized creation. It is a way through the dark of the universe, gates that span the infinite voids that separate here from there. Farcasters. Through a farcaster you can travel nigh infinite distances in a moment, as long as there is another farcaster where you are going. We shall gift you with this, and in return we desire your dead. Ten thousand corpses.”

Voltaug did not reply to the strange ship in the system, Engineer Onderon himself replied, bypassing Voltaug's communication array and using his own vocal actualizers to speak directly to the ship:

"The Navigators..........have no need for such..............a device.................as this 'farcaster'."

His voiced, as it was, focused on the source of the transmission , the dots represent audible clicks as the vocal actualizer translates his speech, his voice is metallic and unnatural.

"However, we....................are always..............eager to acquire new technolgies. Show us this......................'farcaster' , and if it interests the.....................Commonwealth. I will meet your...................bargain."

Ten thousand dead was nothing to the Engineer, lives other than Navigator lives were meaningless to him. While it was true that The Navigators could themselves travel anywhere they pleased almost instantly, they were always eager for more efficient and speedy means of moving their minions about.