NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: Starting this thread over because it had the misfortune of having somebody start posting in a critical manner and then vanish from existence sans explanation.


IC:


They came, a fleet numbering in the hundreds, to the unassuming world known only as 'Colony 3' by the new arrivals. A beautiful world of rolling hills and verdant forests and calm seas. A true paradise to all who watched it on the holoviewers.

There was only one little snag. It was already settled.

To the humanoids coming to 'colonize' the world, the current inhabitants were little more than pests to be exterminated. Their form only reinforced this assumption, as how could anyone ever truly respect a race of placid sentient rabbit-lemmings? True to form, the invaders felt no need to disguise their arrival or intent.

They were such cute little things, and all the information they had acquired suggested at best a post-industrial civilization, not at all capable of offering an effective resistance.

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"Look at them. So blissfully unaware of our approach. It will be a pleasure to annihilate them. Like shooting fish in a barrel."

The command bridge was a great hive of activity, with so many pre-conflict preparations underway, though there was no underlying air of tension typical to entering a warzone. To the crew, this was a standard snatch-and-grab operation akin to taking candy from a baby.

"No signs of military preparation against us. The few villages on the ground seem to be completely ignorant of us. It looks mostly like farmland from here."

"Launch fighters. I want to start up some skirmish raids and let them know we're here. Let us see if they will submit for termination nice and easy instead of wasting energy and resources to blow them all away the hard way."

"Aye sir."

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The fighters blew up a few huts and sent a few clusters of rodents skittering to nearby forests, but there really wasn't much to shoot at. It was unfortunate. By all estimates the fighter skirmish had terminated a full half of their buildings in approximately five minutes, mostly consisting of travel time to and from.

All reports stated that the huts were little more than haphazard constructs of mud and wood, and the creatures themselves wore loincloths. Suggesting that the analysis' belief that at best they would be post industrial was an extreme overstatement.

Which made the communication signal all the more surprising when it came.

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"Sir! They're... hailing us! Priority one! Somebody has gotten a hold of our secure channel information."

"What? Put them on!"

The image that came onto the main viewer made everyone gasp.

It was one of those placid sentient rabbit-gophers, wearing a highly specialized harness of tools and weapons, its brown fur striped with gray and painted in several spots with what looked like bloodspatter. It twitched constantly, not with fear or trepidation, but the spasmatic movements of a psychotic break. Its high pitched demonic cackle was particularly unnerving, all things considered.

The humanoid began. "How did you get this chann--"

"OH GOODY. PROTEIN. WE HAVE SO BEEN LOOKING FORWARD TO A FRESH SUPPLY OF LIVESTOCK."

Somewhat startled by this awkward turnabout, but still standing tall in the light of the unnerving display, the humanoid commander decided to issue the ultimatum.

"This world is now under control of the Terran Star Confederation. You will submit to summary termination in order for this world to be properly colonized."

"HMM... WE ARE NOT AS ADEPT AT THIS DIPLOMACY THING, BUT I SHALL TRY...

"WE ARE THE DEATH SPECTRES OF THE DESTRUCTORS, RULERS OF THE WORLD KNOWN TO YOU AS COLONY 3 BUT TO US AS 'SLAUGHTER'. ALL OF YOUR WORLDS. ALL OF YOUR PEOPLE. ALL OF YOUR SHIPS AND YOUR TECHNOLOGIES. GIVE THESE TO US WITHIN FIVE MINUTES AND WE WILL, IN RETURN, GIVE YOU THE PRIVILEDGE OF SHUTTING THE FUCK UP."

"I'll take that as a no. Prepare to die."

"YOU FIRST, MEATSACK. HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA..."

Communications was suddenly flooded on all channels and all possible encryptions with the insane laughter of millions upon millions of voices, all cackling madly in unison.

"Sir! Massive energy buildup on the surface! They've deployed shields! All kinds of weaponry have just popped out from the ground!"

"What? How did they keep all that hidden?"

"I don't know! Energy discharges all across the surface! They're firing at us! It looks like they have every kind of weapon we've ever seen, and some we haven't! By the gods... the output is incredible..."

"All hands, brace for impa--"

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Thirty seconds later, it was over. The weapons focused on eliminating engines and weapons emplacements, leaving those ships that did not get caught by stray fire with predictably flashy results as little more than drifting cans full of people. Unable to move, and unable to respond to what came next.

Thousands upon thousands upon thousands of small craft came billowing up from underground facilities to pick apart the remnants of the fleet. They latched on floating battleships and destroyers and cruisers and frigates, and began to ferry the larger vessels towards the planet. The crew could only watch as each ship was brought down to the ground, to be set upon almost instantly by swarms of cackling rabbit-gopher-demons.

Bulkheads were ripped open, gunfire was exchanged, but the creatures were far too fast and far too vicious to stand against. They tore into the defenders like chainsaws, inexorably making their way to the ship command centers and ordering non-combat crew to submit to their new overlords.

The dead were carted off to be reconstituted. The living were shuffled off to be interrogated, killed, and carted off to be reconstituted. The ships were picked apart for every piece of technology they could rip from the vessels, until nothing on the surface remained but the occasional bolt or piece of wiring, and even these little pieces of flotsam were removed from sight.

All that remained of the invasion was the sparse cloud of space debris, a race of subterranean creatures that had just started infusing their diet with freshly acquired proteins, and a single signal bouy amidst the wreckage of the fleet, transmitting the following signal on a repeating loop:

"Slaughter is our world. There are many like it, but this one is OURS. Be nice, and we'll be nice. Be un-nice, and we'll eat you."

*bump*

OOC: Tag, I see potential here.

OOC: Bit of a glorified bump

IC:

Not long after the invading fleet had been thoroughly dismantled, a single ship, nothing more than a lowly fightercraft, emerged from a place as yet unseen by non-native eyes and darted into space. Though the little furry creatures were not of a tendency towards traveling the stars, the little beast of a fighter mimicked its forebears in its small size yet disproportionately large armament. The first true sign of activity at all in the days following the massacre of the ill-fated invasion force, this was in fact the very thing that had made the creatures so dangerous.

They were fast learners.

For the first time in during the species' existence, they had captured a fleet with a fully functional hyperdrive. Already, in the inventive fervor that gripped them after a kill, they had succeeded in understanding the principles behind the technology. They were driven to this by the knowledge that the fleets came from somewhere in the stars, which meant that there was more protein out there, and the prodigious amount of transmissions put out by these strange ape-things that kept trying to take over the world. The majority of their communications capacity was derived from a slap-dash collection of such transmissions, along with the databases of every ship they had ever captured, and as a result seemed to glom onto almost any form of encryption with remarkable ease. All the better to shock the enemy into submission and make the transfer from 'not dead' to 'dead' all that much easier.

Everything the Death Spectres did was driven by this grisly cycle. The nature of their physiology was such that Protein activated a chemical reaction within their brains, increasing their cognitive efficiency by a factor of four. Without this reaction, they would not have evolved to the point of using tools, much less gallivanting about in such ruthlessly efficient spacecraft. In order to fuel their cognitive efficiency, they needed protein, and if they did not get protein, the more savage and frenzied they got. Surges of Technological Advancement, spaced with long periods of semi-psychosis driven by protein withdrawal, and started up again like a wildfire whenever something arrived thinking that they would be an easy kill and finding out otherwise in the worst way. Kill. Learn. Wait. Kill. Learn. Wait.

But now they might not have to wait anymore. There was a whole universe of meaty things out there. The prospect energized them like nothing had ever done before.

This small ship, the embodiment of all their vicious hopes and horrific dreams, sailed up into space with the greatest of ease, activated its drive, and promptly exploded.

The other Death Specters, watching this, simply shrugged and started building a better version. The loss of the pilot was not even considered a loss at all. The whole thing showed them that there was a flaw in the design, and so they would simply root back through the original version, toss back in parts that had been deemed unimportant, and see which component had proven more necessary than initial analyses suggested.

They worked fast. The protein surge would only last so long.

A single frigate flys slowly though space. "Below", as such dimensions do not exist in space, was a blue-green planet. Onboard the Captain looks to the comm officer. "What's down there?" "Sir, some small settlements. In close space is some small debries and trace elements of armor. Some kind of battle, and, if the scanners read correctly, it happened a few days ago." "Do the lifeforms down there have our or anything approaching our tech?" "No sir, all post-industrial." "Try them anyway."
A message was sent down:
Greetings. We are the Xiscapians. Do not be alarmed, we come in peace. We request permission to land and meet with your leader.
Xiscapians are humanoid, with fox ears and a tail, yellow eyes, sharp pointy teeth, and many diffrent colors and hues of hair. They are far faster, more agile, and graceful then any human.
OOC: Tag of intrest.

Curiously, there was little in the way of a response to the transmission save for one momentary reaction that could not be ignored.

The entire system, every single celestial body floating around larger than a house, the three gas giants, two inferno worlds, and one inferno giant, lit up for but a moment with power readings. It was like the system had flexed upon receipt of the message.

And down on the planet, within full view of any visual scanners the small frigate came with, four flares had gone off, marking out a suitable place to land. Why they chose this method of communication rather than their other methods, none could know for sure, but then, no-one who knew that they could transmit signals was presently alive, either...

"Landing lights have shown up sir. Do we land?" "Go ahead." The little frigate flew though the atmosphere to the planet's surface and landed.
OOC: Last post, I might be on later.

The area around the landing site was filled with trees, mostly evergreens of some form, rising into the sky mere meters from the perimeter set up around the flares. To any who got off the frigate, one thing and one thing alone would have dominated.

The silence.

Apart from a slight breeze going through the trees and the occasional insectoid buzzing about, not a peep emerged forth from the forest. No avians chirped, no herbivorous things frolicked about or fled from the ship. Where the flares had come from seemed a mystery in itself, as there was apparently nothing nearby that could have left them.

The area around the landing site was filled with trees, mostly evergreens of some form, rising into the sky mere meters from the perimeter set up around the flares. To any who got off the frigate, one thing and one thing alone would have dominated.

The silence.

Apart from a slight breeze going through the trees and the occasional insectoid buzzing about, not a peep emerged forth from the forest. No avians chirped, no herbivorous things frolicked about or fled from the ship. Where the flares had come from seemed a mystery in itself, as there was apparently nothing nearby that could have left them.
The crew looked about nerviously. "Sir," said the comm officer said, "I don't see anything out there. (Xiscapians can see in the dark) Scans and sensors aren't reading anything which would equat to a town or ship out there. I don't like this." "Patience, the ones who called us down will surely show themselves."

They appeared. Without warning and without any sign whatsoever of their approach, they popped out of the ground (literally, each newcomer's arrival was announced with a light 'pop'), and simply stared at the aliens before them.

They were not large, about three times the size of a typical rabbit, with slightly elongated ears, downy fur of varying colors. They held their forepaws in front of them, remarkable things of great musculature, with claws that made each hand appear like a big hoof when the fingers were kept together. They had a pudgy appearance as well, making them seem even more innocent than they truly were.

One of them held a slab of meat in its forepaws. It looked to the ones to its left, and struck up a conversation of chitters and squeaks that intensified in volume as it went on. After about a minute of this, the one with the meat opened its mouth.

All pretense of cuteness faded away with the discovery that its horrendous maw was about as wide as its entire body, and had it felt the necessity it could likely have doubled its overall profile simply by opening wide. Its teeth were not the originals, replaced by what appeared to be a jagged-toothed heavy-duty alloy replacement that more resembled a bear trap than actual teeth. Its eyes seemed to widen slightly, revealing massively bloodshot whites. To complete the transformation, it began to vibrate visibly, as though its adrenaline levels had gone straight into orbit.

Its teeth worked like a chainsaw on the slab of meat in its paws. Within a single second, it had devoured a slab of meat half as large as itself, leaving little more than the occasional bit of carnage floating lazily in the air.

It returned its glare to the aliens and spoke in a high pitched, malevolent voice. Like swords grinding against sharpening stones, its mouth spat sparks as much as it spat saliva as it shrieked.

"WAAAAAAAAAUGH! WIERD THINGS THAT TRAVEL AMIDST THE SKYFIRES! WELCOME TO SLAUGHTER! YOU HAVE COME DURING A MOMENTOUS TIME! SOON WE SHALL JOIN YOU AND THOSE LIKE YOU AMONGST THE SKYFIRES! NO LONGER WILL WE BE CONTAINED! NO LONGER WILL WE SUFFER FROM THE HUNGER!"

Slightly disturbed at this show of power and jaw stretching ability, the Xiscapians stared at the thing. The only female on board, the gunner, had exclaimed "Aw, how cute!" at first. Now she looked slightly sick. Not from seeing the piece of meat devowered so quickly and effectivly, but rather from the way the thing was warped into a killing machine. The Captain turned on the outboard mike. "Uh, greetings. We are the Xiscapians. We come in peace. Are you open to diplomatic relations?" Even now, from the time the frigate entered the atomsphere to this point, everything was being recorded and sent back to Command for analyzing.
OOC: You're rather good at this.

The lead creature spasmed several times, violently enough that it left the ground twice, bouncing up to eye level in a manner that suggested it wasn't even exerting itself. Curious that biology had managed to grant sentience to such small beings, whether by fluke of evolution or biochemical niche.

It settled back into its little burrow-hole and stared at the person who had just spoken, still trembling, still displaying that hateful maw and insane glare. Its teeth clanked together in a succession so rapid it sounded exactly like dueling jackhammers. The motion was mimicked by several others in the clearing, but none of them seemed truly inclined to advance.

It spoke:

"DIPLOMATIC? NOT KILL EAT WIERD THINGS?"

Another spoke to the side:

"ALIENS TO ASSIST IN FINDING OTHER ALIENS TO EAT!"

A great chorus began, rippling back and forth through the assembled creatures:

"PROTEIN! MORE PROTEIN!"

"KILL!"

"EAT!"

"GET SMART!"

"MAKE THINGS TO MAKE KILLING EASIER!"

"KILL MORE!"

"EAT MORE!"

"GET SMARTER!"

"LATHER!"

"RINSE!"

"REPEAT!"

The lead creature spasmed several times, violently enough that it left the ground twice, bouncing up to eye level in a manner that suggested it wasn't even exerting itself. Curious that biology had managed to grant sentience to such small beings, whether by fluke of evolution or biochemical niche.

It settled back into its little burrow-hole and stared at the person who had just spoken, still trembling, still displaying that hateful maw and insane glare. Its teeth clanked together in a succession so rapid it sounded exactly like dueling jackhammers. The motion was mimicked by several others in the clearing, but none of them seemed truly inclined to advance.

It spoke:

"DIPLOMATIC? NOT KILL EAT WIERD THINGS?"

Another spoke to the side:

"ALIENS TO ASSIST IN FINDING OTHER ALIENS TO EAT!"

A great chorus began, rippling back and forth through the assembled creatures:

"PROTEIN! MORE PROTEIN!"

"KILL!"

"EAT!"

"GET SMART!"

"MAKE THINGS TO MAKE KILLING EASIER!"

"KILL MORE!"

"EAT MORE!"

"GET SMARTER!"

"LATHER!"

"RINSE!"

"REPEAT!"
The Captain could only stare open-mouthed at the inhabitents of Slaughter. Something told him that if they tried to leave in would result in nasty consequnces. "Yes...actually it's good not to ,ah, eat diplomats. In fact..." A plan began forming in the Captain's mind. "Yes, in fact, I know where you could get a planet full of such things. Are you intrested?"
OOC: Edited accordingly, my guy's talking about a war my people are currently having, he's thinking about putting a bunch of your people into a ship and flying them to our enemies homeworld to cause choas and destruction.

OOC: Ooh, yer back! Looks like I'm going to have to adjust the timing of my arrival a bit, though - I'm late.

IC:
Shortly before the Xiscapian frigate arrived, several light hours away from Slaughter, someone else noticed the wreckage.

The Angori scout fleet wasn’t supposed to be searching for unknown civilizations; they had an old enemy to look for. With half the Demonic Gopher war fleet missing for purposes unknown, the Angelic Gophers were more than a little worried. Still, when they came across signs of combat, this group of ships couldn’t resist pausing a moment to find out what happened. Besides, the scattered wreckage could have been caused by one of the three dreadnoughts they were trying to find.

So they left a few observation drones and traveled further from Slaughter, continuing until they caught up with the light from the recent battle. Then they sent out scouts to establish a sensor array, and watched. At this distance the image was quite dim, and the resolution was rather poor, but they could still tell what had been going on.

“Ah, there’s one side. Quite a fleet, maybe enough to give a Demgori dread some trouble.”

The scanner technician who had spoken brought the image up on the main screen of the command ship’s bridge, and the other ‘Gophers present gathered to watch. This situation had ended in wreckage; whatever had happened, it was sure to be worth seeing.

“Looks like it’s an invasion fleet. Pretty large, to take on a world with no sign of advanced technology.”

“The natives look some sort of little rabbit creatures – just the sort our cousins are always eager to protect. If they came upon this attack while it was in progress…”

“Fighters against mud huts!? What a waste! It’d be quicker and more efficient to just wipe ‘em off the map from orbit, and there’s any number of ways that would be more fun..”

“Oho!! Look at that! Seems these natives aren’t as defenseless as they appeared!”

“Marvelous! What a beautiful trap!”

“Ha, well armed, too!”

“And here come the harvesters…. Quick work.”

“Prey lured in, netted, and dispatched in under a minute. I like these natives.”

“Yes, so do I.”

The rest of the Angelic Gophers fell silent at the sound of this voice – the voice of their current leader, Lord Karvan Jathaldos.

“This may not be what we came for, but these people could prove very valuable allies if we can secure their friendship.” Karvan continued. “In the long run, this discovery may even be more important than whatever those curséd dreadnoughts are up to. Prepare a messenger probe, and head back. Stop every six light hours to observe for a few minutes.”

When they reached the drones they had left at the point were they first spotted Slaughter, more information was waiting for them.

"Lord Jathaldos, someone else got here while we were investigating! The drones report that an unknown vessel, fairly small, landed on the planet - apparently in safety."

"Interesting. All ships, proceed towards the target at 3 c, and continue observations. I want to know everything that happened by the time we approach the planet."

OOC: RIGHT. WELL.

Sephrioth completely removed himself from the thread without notifying me, deleting his posts which dictated the tenor and pace of about half the RP thus far... and now I had to go and delete a bunch of stuff.

I'm gonna bump this to see if anybody else wants to come in and try to raise some hell or get really disconcerted or do random things in general with the Death Spectres. And please, if yer gonna jump in, try to play for keeps. The intro was ruined once already because somebody jumped in and then fell off the edge of the world. I'd hate to go 0 for 2.

OOC: Perhaps you should try a different storyline. Sometimes you just get bad players, you know? Anyway, I'll go edit my posts to show that I have stayed on Slaughter.

A flash of psuedomotion and ten ships exited hyperspace. In the center of the formation was a mighty ship, slighty larger than a standard Star Destroyer, but is at least twice as powerful in the hands of a competent captain. In a distant part of the galaxy, the Battlestar Coredia has arrived.

Captain Holland Novak was far above competent, and that's not counting the colorful characters under his command as well as the passengers he is supposed to take care of. He shook his head and relayed orders to his crew.

"Gidget, begin scans of this system. Kengoh, watch for bogeys. I want a CAP out as soon as possible. Chief, how's the new FTL system?"

"Still needs some adjustments, but Rina and I are working around the clock to get them done." The bespectacled AI replied.

"All right. Let's get a move on." The Captain said.

"Uh, Captain? I'm getting some weird readings around here." Gidget frowned.

"Really? Let's have a look." Captain Holland said.

"This system appears empty, for all intents and purposes, but I'm getting power readings far above what should be for BGR (background radiation)."

"Think there's someone out there?"

"I'd bet my next paycheck on it." Gidget giggled.

Captain Holland smiled thinly. "Right. Chief, get the Teams up here. Perhaps our resident young Summoner would be interested in this."

"Right-O!" The Chief grinned and fled to alert the three Teams of Jedi Shinobi aboard the ship, the teams searching for a lost comrade, Travis Masaki.

The small fleet edged further into the system of the Destructors, wondering what new race they may have detected...

"Captain!" called the comm officer. "A fleet has entered the system." "What orgin?" "Unknown sir. We're scanning them now." "Keep a lock on them. If their hostile, I want to know it before they do." The Captain turned to the outside transmitter. "A fleet of unknown orgin has entered the system."
OOC: Finally some real action!

(OOC: How many ships are there and in what configuration?)

"Sir, I'm detecting some ships in the sector." Gidget sounded out.

"Are they related to the readings?" Holland asked.

"Nope. They appear to be different."

"Well, if they are hostile, we know what to do with them. Hail them." The Captain ordered.

"Establishing communications." Gidget announced, pressing some buttons. Suddenly, the voice (and image) of a gruff, gray-haired (though young) Captain rippled through space for the other fleet.

"Unknown craft, this is the Battlestar Coredia of the Coredian Interstellar Defense Force, Captain Holland Novak speaking. State your intentions and your nation of origin, please."

A flash of light split space asunder, causing the fabric of space and time itself to scream as it was forcefully violated. From the rift this violation caused, three ships appeared, slashing forward into reality with incredible speed and agility. Their hulls glowed with an eerie green light, as the Kadium crystal lining the hull glowed even in the vacuum of space. Two Shadow-class frigates (http://www.third-space.net/graphics/up_whitestar_3ds_001.jpg) and one Hammer-class cruiser (http://www.lcarscom.net/fsd/art/images/dbas-1.jpg) drifted through space. Their shields and weapons were offline, for the moment. Unknown to the other galactic powers who had gathered here before them, these ships were from the Kaldathi Dominion, a sadistic and cruel nation whose constant wars and expansions had destroyed many races before them. They treated war like a game, the Great Game in fact, so they thrived on war, loved it. So, anywhere there was a battle going on, you would be sure to see them there, or at least, they would be watching, which is why they had come. The Kitzai, entertained by these creatures, had ordered an expedition sent to make contact with these creatures after witnessing the utter destruction of the Terran fleet which had attacked them. Now, the Crusher, the Silence and the Watcher had arrived in the system to find....others had arrived before them. Vorai Kaelas, (Vorai=captain), of the Crusher cruiser gazed at the screen before him, with the data rolling in on the Coreworlds and Xiscapian fleets.

Besides him stood his aide, Myrai Orvaelin. A young and ambitious Kaldathi, she had advanced with pure luck, skill, determination, with some backstabbing and other....skills which had seen her put here. While not a high post, it was a great one as far as aides went. She handed him a clear pad, which he activated upon grasping it, showing him even more data. <"A single frigate, unknown class and identity, has landed on the planet as well as a fleet of ten ships are in the system. No idea how long both have been here. They should be detecting us soon." Kaelas grunted, handing back the pad.

<"That's nice. I'd rather get this over with. That nice little Round at Korvic III was fun and I'd like to get back before they've killed everyone." He was referring to the invasion of Korvic III, a world with a species who had just reached post-industrial times. They had the misfortune of drawing the attention of the Kaldathi, who descended on the planet like a swarm of locusts, laughing and giggling as they sowed destruction in their wake. He had been among them, when he was called off for this. As you can imagine, he wasn't very happy.

<"Open a channel to the planet, tight-beam and encrypted. If the others want to contact us, fine. Oh and have a call for help from Korazar ready, in case they want to be the ones to start a Round here."> His hands twitched in excitement at that thought. Myrai nodded and walked over to the sensor station. Soon, a message was sent down to the planet, in perfect Terran.

Greetings, we are messengers of the Kaldathi Dominion. We couldn't help but appreciate that fine little Round you had with those ships a while back. We thought we'd stop by, congratulate you on a fine win, and have a chat. Oh and no funny business in attacking us; that wouldn't go over too well, trust me. But, hey, who knows, we may be able to lend you some technology; after all, you look like quite the collectors.

(OOC: How many ships are there and in what configuration?)

"Sir, I'm detecting some ships in the sector." Gidget sounded out.

"Are they related to the readings?" Holland asked.

"Nope. They appear to be different."

"Well, if they are hostile, we know what to do with them. Hail them." The Captain ordered.

"Establishing communications." Gidget announced, pressing some buttons. Suddenly, the voice (and image) of a gruff, gray-haired (though young) Captain rippled through space for the other fleet.
OOC: There's actually only a single frigate, which is on-planet at the moment, attempting to establish diplomatic negotiations.

Destructor Class Frigate: (Max amount stored in hanger:5)
A Destructor Class Frigate
Crew: 3
Armament: Duel front blaster cannons, a missile launcher, a bottom and top turret
Hangers: None
Role: Anti frigate/fighter/gunship

IC: "We're being hailed by the fleet. Do I respond?" "Yes, go ahead. State that we are merely and exploritory force, not imperialistic or warmonger."
Unknown fleet, this is the Xiscapian Frigate Winter. We are an expiditionary force sent from our main ship to seek out new species and forge alliances with them. Do not fire. We are not hostile, and will only fire if fired upon.

OOC:
I think my post still stands as is - nothing in it dependent on Seph's vanished presence. Unless someone wants to notice my ships coming, it'll still be a bit before they get close enough to start doing anything interesting.

Their response to the Xiscapian offer was one of bemusement. As one, they began chattering amongst themselves. Their eyes never left the newcomers, and they took enjoyment in the impression that their equivalent of scratching one's chin to think presented to the aliens. Their methods of war had been wholly on their terms. They would not debase themselves as to be carried and 'unleashed' like some common pet. Though they did not speak in response to the offer, or change their expression beyond the appearance of curiosity and the wild-eyed expression of their supposed leader, they put forth a vibe, or even a pheromone scent, that could somehow be associated with...

Annoyance.

The surrounding forest erupted into a cacophony of metallic chattering as hundreds of Death Spectres called out to those topside. Sequences of chattering and clacking made up what might have been considered their original language, despite the fact that their grasp of most humanoid languages was remarkable, if one discounted their rather eccentric patterns of speech.

From the distance, one began to speak, translating... though not necessarily for the newcomers.

"MORE CHARIOTS FROM BEYOND THE DAY-STAR... HERD ARRANGEMENT... ONE NOT CERTAIN OF OUR EXISTENCE... ONE SENDING WORD OF CONGRATULATION FOR OUR RECENT CONQUEST..."

They chattered some more, and another shrieked in the distance, more as though it was trying to concentrate than anything. All of them had surged into their bared-teeth stance with the bloodshot eyes and barely restrained surge of energy.

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUGH!"

Another group of flares roared into life some distance away, at the time, directly beneath the largest vessel Scrinthian fleet.

At the same time, a signal came, seemingly from out of nowhere, considering the nature of the system, directed towards the Coredians, an eerie replica of their own transmission to the Xiscapians, even to the captain's accent and inflection, though high pitched and more than a little insane:

"BATTLESTAR COREDIA, THIS IS THE DEATH SPECTRE HOME SECTOR OF THE DESTRUCTORS. MANY-AS-ONE SPEAKING. STATE YOUR INTENTIONS AND NATION OF ORIGIN... PLEASE."

Unknown fleet, this is the Xiscapian Frigate Winter. We are an expiditionary force sent from our main ship to seek out new species and forge alliances with them. Do not fire. We are not hostile, and will only fire if fired upon.
"Ah. So that's what they are. Hail back."

"Yes, sir."

"Frigate Winter, nice to meet you. Now, as it stands out, it appears that you're here earlier than we. Do you know anything about the new species in this system?"

Onboard the Coredia, there were three teachers of the Ninja Arts. Each teacher has three students, considered the Rookie Nine because they have potential to be the next generation of Jounin. Under Naruto, Team Seven: Nicholas Kingfisher is an expert on the use of firearms and explosives. His main weapon is a blaster rifle that shoots 'holy' bullets, round, white explosive balls that attack the evil within men and monsters. The more evil you are, the worse it would hurt. Kagome Outerbridge is a student of the staff and is well versed in fire and water jutsus, augmenting her staff with the elements to cause serious damage. Toji Suzuhara, Naruto's temporary Genin is a tough kid, good in the arts of taijutsu, but his ninjutsu and genjutsu skills are lacking, but not to the extent of Rock Lee. He does have an interesting talent in ranged telekinesis, in that he would punch and the other guy would feel it as if he's punching point-blank. He also likes to argue with Asuka, Sakura's star student.

Under Sakura, Team Eight: Asuka Langley is brash, tough-acting and a flirt among the boys aboard ship. Just the type of student Sakura was when she was young! She's also good with elemental jutsus and can pack a punch that could leave stormtrooper helmets with fist-shaped dents. Shinji Ikari is what some people consider to be soft. He's shy and introverted to the point that Sakura could swear she could see his insides. Still, she managed to sense potential in the boy when no one else has and decided to make it her life's goal to bring it out. He's good with medical jutsus and genjutsu, but his taijutsu and ninjutsu are average. Kensuke Aida Pellaeon, now there's an heir to Shikimaru's prodigious talent! The boy is a military strategist, which probably comes from being a member of Pellaeon's clan, and unlike Shikamaru, he tends to prefer blitzkreig to long-range campaigns, but he can manipulate both styles to his advantage. He's quick with the sword and kunai, has a tendency towards immobilizing ninjutsu techniques, and is a skilled genjutsu student.

Under Sasuke, Team Nine: His daughter Reika is the heir to the Uchiha clan. She has recently developed her Sharingan bloodline, meaning that she can copy any attacks and turn them upon the enemy, although she's nearly as skilled as her father in the ways of Fire and lightning. She also has her mother's skill in medical jutsus and her incredible strength. Umino Haruka is the son of Ninja Academy headmaster Umino Iruka and Hokage's assistant Shizune. He is unique among ninjas in that he is mastering the difficult arts of alchemy and sealing jutsus and is the first among the Rookie Nine to become Chuunin, although he likes to hang around his friends all the same. Keith Masaki is a ninja Summoner, pretty much the first of his kind. His goal is to gather as many summons as possible, which is probably why he tends to summon certain famous elemental creatures, much to his chagrin. Still, he has the Phoenix Queen Taikou as a boss summon so it is possible that there's more to him than meets the eye. There's a small silver dragon on his shoulder, the Dragon Prince Ryujin.

As the three Teams entered the bridge, a high-pitched and slightly insane voice replied, unnerving a few of the bridge crew.

"BATTLESTAR COREDIA, THIS IS THE DEATH SPECTRE HOME SECTOR OF THE DESTRUCTORS. MANY-AS-ONE SPEAKING. STATE YOUR INTENTIONS AND NATION OF ORIGIN... PLEASE."

"Hmm. They certainly have a way of words. How should we reply?" Sasuke asked, scowling.

"Well, I'd say we shouldn't reveal our exact nation-of-origin just yet. Just call us the Galactic Alliance or something. It's the truth, from a certain point of view." Naruto smirked.

"Good call, kid." Captain Holland nodded, making Naruto scowl as he's no longer a kid. "Ok, Gidget, you heard the Ninja."

"Right."

"We are citizens of the Galactic Alliance. We come in peace in hopes of making friends."

<"Vorai, I am reading small bursts of light appearing on the planet."> Kaelas sighed. Geez, his people were jumpy today; he hoped some combat started soon, else he may have to start administering drugs to keep his people from going crazy and attacking each other. Sighing, he turned to the officer.

<"So what? If it isn't weaponry or a message, what made it so special to bring to my attention?"> The officer glanced at his screen again.

<"Well, Vorai, it appears to be at the spot that is directly below the Crusher, in the exact size and configuration as it as well.">

A moment of silence followed the statement, as the air laced with tension and shock. Kaelas walked over to the bridge officer's display, looking for himself what was going on. After five full seconds passed, he nodded. <"I see. Good job catching it. Keep monitoring."> Turning, he pointed at the communications officer. <"Get a squad of Tuzrai ready, and have them meet me in the hangar, you know the one. It's time I went down to meet our excitable friends."> One of the other officers spoke up.

<"What of the aliens, sir?">

<"Monitor them, and if they act hostile, send the message. Then run like hell. I am sure we will be plenty protected on the planet."> With that, he exited the bridge, heading for his room. After all, if one was to look the part, they needed their scary, spiky, black battle armor which they always said hello with.

...Maybe one of the reasons they get into so many wars.

**************

Five minutes later, a fully-armored Jelkai entered the shuttle (http://www.classic-space.com/plugins/autogallery/Gallery/SmallShips/conc4.jpg), along with five of the Tuzrai (http://i91.photobucket.com/albums/k308/Nirokasa/WP_ART09_1024x768.jpg), all were seated in the shuttle. Shuddering as its engines ignited, the craft lifted off and blasted out of the hangar, down towards the planet. The ship rocked and heated up during re-entry but that was normal and something they had all gotten used to a long time ago; with as many planetary assaults as they had under their belt, they could go to a deep sleep with this going on. After five minutes of rocking, it slammed into the atmosphere and shot towards the set of flares. Shooting guiding jets to control its descent and make sure it didn't crash, the craft landed, a ramp descending out and onto the ground. The five Tuzrai exited; their rifles in hand but not pointing in front of them. They didn't want to antagonize the locals TOO much. Kaelas exited and looked around to see if any of the creatures had arrived yet.

"Message incoming."
"Frigate Winter, nice to meet you. Now, as it stands out, it appears that you're here earlier than we. Do you know anything about the new species in this system?"
The following message was sent back:
Affermitive. Species is potentially hostile to all. They appear to have a starved appitite for...flesh. Of anything. This could turn out in a number of different ways. Now that this new fleet has entered the system, it's a bit, shall we say, tense, down here. A shuttle from the fleet has just landed. We're calling in the rest of the fleet. Do not be alarmed.

A transmission, heavely coded, was sent across many light-years of space. Moments later, it was recieved and acted upon. Two Cruisers*, a battleship(Stand Alone, Specter)*(Splinter in the Mind's Eye), a medical ship(Silver Song)*, and 4 frigates(Dark Star, Flood, Dream, Final)* jumped towards the system. The ETA would be about 5 hours, the fleet having been on stand-by multiple light years away.

OOC: *

Dominator Class Battleship
A Dominator Class Battleship (http://www.strekschematics.utvinternet.com/shipgallery/shipgallery1/jembattle.jpg)
Crew: 1,000 and 19 pilots
Armament: 3 Heavy Guns, 2 Light Guns,30 AS guns, 12 Ion cannons.
Hangers (1): 3 Combat Shuttles, 1 Shuttle, 8 Fighters, 1 Frigate.
Role: Anti capital ship/anti space station/capable of planetary bombardment

Wasp Class Cruiser
A Wasp Class Cruiser (http://ships.firenebula.com/starwars_demi/images/dreadnaught2.jpg)
Crew: 400 and 51 pilots
Armament: Two Heavy Guns, 2 Light Guns, 20 AS guns, 20 Ion cannons.
Hangers (2): 2 Shuttles, 2 fighters, 15 LAM, 15 HAM
Role: Anti Frigate/fighter/gunboat
Protection Class Medical Ship

A Protection class Medical ship (http://swgb.heavengames.com/eaw/images/units/nebulon_b.jpg)
Crew: 100 and 10 pilots
Armament: None
Hangers (1): 5 Shuttles
Role: Hospital ship

Destructor Class Frigate: (Max amount stored in hanger:5)
A Destructor Class Frigate (http://shipyards.relicnews.com/hw2/images/display.htm?concept_Frigate.jpg)
Crew: 3
Armament: Duel front blaster cannons, a missile launcher, a bottom and top turret
Hangers: None
Role: Anti frigate/fighter/gunship

EDIT: Sorry, it's been edited. If you find that I am coming too fast, take in for account that my people sacrifice armour for speed.

OOC: Xiscapia, just so things are nice and clear, I don't allow one post-mobilizations. There has to be a delay between your message being sent out, recieved/acted upon, and the requested fleet arriving. The best case for this is a few hours total reaction time (not over the course of 1 post). This is applied to everyone here. I won't have people magicking in reinforcements from lightyears away over the course of a few seconds.

Thanks in advance.

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

As the Scrinthians departed their shuttle, little sound apart from residual noises of the landing vehicle greeted them. The situation was similar to that experienced by the Xiscapian landing party, save for one thing.

Only one Death Spectre popped up from the ground, holding its paws in front of itself much like a meerkat would, and munching on the end of a piece of sausage. It stared blankly at the six beings standing before it, then bit down on the rest of its sausage and burped loudly. Without any further warning, it ducked back into its hole.

Chittering broke out through the countryside for a good three minutes, then ceased as abruptly as it started. Just as the noise terminated, twelve Death Spectres popped up from the ground. One of these creatures held a helmet that, while possibly unrecognizable to the Scrinthians, was in actuality a helmet taken from a long-dead Tau Firewarrior.

The small clump of Death Spectres began to play a strange game of hot-potato, tossing the helmet into the air and leaping up to catch it before it came below a certain height, all while screeching to themselves with glee each time one of them tossed the helmet to another:

"FOR THE GREATER GOOD!"

"GREATER GOOD!"

"GREATER GOOD!"

"RESISTANCE IS HEAVY!"

"FALL BACK!"

"FALL BACK!"

"REQUESTING ASSISTANCE!"

"ALL UNITS, FALL BACK TO ASSAULT TRANSPORTS!"

"THEY HAVE THE TRANSPORTS!"

"WHERE IS THE AIR CASTE?!"

"THEY TOOK THE DEMIURG!"

"THEY TOOK THE FLEET!"

"ESTABLISH PERIMETERS!"

"HOLD THEM AT ALL COSTS!"

"FOR THE GREATER GOOD!"

"FOR THE GREATER GOO--!"

"GAAAAAAAGH!"

At this point the gleeful squeakings were imitations of death-gurgles by whatever it was the Death Spectres had apparently slaughtered in ages past...

OOC: Okay, seriously, can we, you know, NOT spam fleets in non-combat threads? Thank you.

IC: The Vorai and his escorts were barely four steps away from the shuttle when the Death Spectre appeared and vanished just as quickly. Loud chittering commenced, which drew raised eyebrows under the helmets of the Kaldathi party. When they popped up again, in force, their guns rose up to meet them, only to aim at the ground again when they began tossing a helmet similar to theirs and shouting what appeared to be the last cries of the soldier whose helmet they had before he died. The Death Spectres would see an interesting sight; as they provided the dialogue for a battle, they would see the Kaldathi shiver, almost as they were getting pleasure from the scene they were projecting. They recovered quickly, about three seconds, but the sight was there. Kaelas walked forward, his voice scratching from his helmet speakers. He chose to speak Terran, as that was his only language other than his native tongue and due to their absorption of the human technology, they would hopefully have a translator.

"Well, we're here. After all, it wasn't the innocent squirrels who put the flares out. Especially considering they are probably all dead now."

Affermitive. Species is potentially hostile to all. They appear to have a starved appitite for...flesh. Of anything. This could turn out in a number of different ways. Now that this new fleet has entered the system, it's a bit, shall we say, tense, down here. A shuttle from the fleet has just landed. We're calling in the rest of the fleet. Do not be alarmed.
"Hmph. If they do that, it'll just make things worse." Captain Holland said and shook his head.

"Still, it wouldn't hurt to take a look." Naruto said. "If they're hostile, we could burn this world to cinders."

"Not very Jedi-like of you." Sakura chided. "Let's not do anything rash. Who's going to go down and check it out?"

"I will." Keith raised a hand.

"You'll need some backup. I'm going, too." Nick said.

"Heh. Someone needs to take charge. I'm in." Asuka grinned widely.

"Does it always have to be you?" Toji grumbled.

Asuka whirled around, suddenly furious. "What's wrong with me?!"

"You're too loud, that's what!" Toji shot back and yet another arguement began.

"Sorry, Asuka, but Chuunin rank takes precedence." Haruka emitted a small smile as his words shut her up. "Shinji, you're our medic."

"Huh? Oh, well, all right." The black haired boy replied timidly.

"I'm going too." Ryujin replied, yawning.

"Guess I'll chaperone." Naruto shrugged.

Holland nodded with a smile. "Very well then. The shuttles in the starboard hangar bay are yours to command. Have fun, kids."
The Chief moaned. "I wish I could go with you! Maybe I should bug Rina for a robot body to download into..." He wandered to Rina's workroom, muttering.

Soon enough, the seven of them boarded a small shuttle and headed down towards the planet. Knowing the potential for hostilities, they exited into a forest with their senses alert and their weapons and powers at the ready.

All was quiet in the forest. Too quiet.

"Weird. I should be sensing birds or mammals, but all I could get are insects." Keith said to the others, then frowned as he concentrated. "I'm getting life, but...it's odd to say the least."

"Right. You keep watch then." Naruto nodded.

They moved deeper into the forest, weirded out by the quietness...

*pop*

It appeared directly in front of the Coredian party, staring wide-eyed at the newcomers as it held a piece of well cooked steak in its cloven paws. A slight cock of its head revealed a small amount of confusion at these particular aliens, less from the fact they were aliens and more from the fact that nobody had told them to come down yet.

A couple others popped up from the ground and stared as well, just before the first one opened its gaping maw and tore the steak to shreds in under five seconds, metal jaws working like a shredder. After it finished, it returned to its normal self, and then burst into its wild-eyed grin of death.

"AH-HA!"

It vanished back into its hole, plunging the world back into silence save for the occasional *pop* of more Death Spectres coming up from the ground to inspect these strange aliens. They did not move an inch save for their initial appearance, instead staring forward, still as stone, the only sign of life being that every now and then one vanished from existence, to be replaced by another.

The first one returned, bearing a skull, long since bleached white, but hosting a very well maintained head of supernaturally golden spiky hair. The creature's horrendous grin widened even further, nearly splitting itself in two with its own enthusiasm. Then it shrieked, its high-pitched voice breaking through the silence like a sonic knife through butter.

"ITS OVER NINE THOUSAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAND!"

The others began to hop up and down with glee, as though given the answer to a question that had been pestering the entire collection. They started shrieking of their own accord, bouncing around the general area with their treacherous teeth working and bloodshot stares constantly focused on the newcomers.

"I HOPE MY BODY CAN TAKE IT!"

"IT DOESN'T MAKE A BIT OF DIFFERENCE!"

"DO IT OR THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE IS GOING TO DIE!"

"THE BALLS ARE INERT!"

"ITS OVER NINE THOUSAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAND!"

"IIITTTSSS OOOVVVEEERRR NNNIIINNNEEE TTTHHHOOOUUUSSSAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNDDD!"

"WHAT NINE THOUSAND?!"

Then, as quickly as it started, every single one of them returned to their places, staring forward at the Aliens with bloodshot eyes and blood-curdling grins. The first one spoke again, quickly joined by the others:

"THEY STOOD STILL A LOT."

"KINETIC RODS ARE FUNNY."

"SPIRIT BOM-- *squish*"

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

Meanwhile, back at the Scrinthian arrival point:

Things had settled down somewhat, more or less because the mimicked gurgling had run out a few seconds ago, and now the Death Spectre holding the Tau helmet returned its gaze to the Scrinthians, its treacherous maw flashing and glinting in the light of the shuttle.

"ATE EVERYTHING. ONLY BUGS AND SOME BIRDS LEFT. TOO HARD TO CATCH, AND NEED THEM FOR FARMS. THEY KNOW BETTER THAN TO MAKE NOISE NOW."

The ships tore though space, star-streaks flashing momentarily by the viewports then fading. On the bridge of the Splinter in the Mind's Eye, Captain Soth stood at a A.I. terminal, talking. "So they're some kind of mutated, hungry rodents?" The A.I., a professor-looking type with glasses, spoke back. "That about sums it up. It's not unlike something we raise for snacks, although I would not advise trying to eat one of these things. The audio and holo recordings suggest that these are a hyper active species, with short life-spans but perhaps a collective consciousness. This would, of course, give them an edge in a battle." "Intresting...have the North Calaverans gotten to them yet?" "All probabilitys say no, Captain. I doubt the North Calaverans would have been able to capture any of these. They would have been ripped apart-" Suddenly the A.I. stopped speaking for a moment. "Engine failure-" The whole ship rocked as it was torn from hyperspace. The entire fleet came out of hyperspace in the middle of an astroid field. Soth and his bridge officers were thrown to the deck. "What the hell was that?!" he shouted as the ship came to a stop. "There has been catastrophe engine failures thoughout the fleet." The A.I. said calmly. "Scanners suggest that we have been thrown into some sort of naturally occuring ion field." "But that's impossible! There would have to be massive amounts of ion in the area to put the whole fleet's engines offline!" "There is, Captain." Soth knew the only reason the A.I., life support, and other systems were not destroyed was because they were all shielded by shields and armor from the ion. "Can we run the back-up generators?" "Yes, but it would take us days to get there now. Also, our guns have been put offline. The Winter[I]'s Guilda crystals have more then enough power to get it and it's crew to the next nearest fleet. I suggest that we try to make it back to Xiscapia. The [I]Winter will have to find her own way home now." "But we have no idea who else is there or what we're leaving them to! We can't just abandon them!" "We have no choice, Captain. I'm sorry."

A message was sent from the Splinter to the Winter.
Then fleet turned, astroids being disintigrated against their shields, and jumped away.

The surface of Slaughter...
"Message incoming!" said the comm officer. "It's from the fleet!"
Frigate Winter. Engines damaged. Zeta fleet unable to come and assist you. Once tensions at Slaughter have been resolved, one way or another, make your way to Beta fleet, coordinates 00186994. Do NOT engage any hostiles unless fired upon. Gather as much data as possible, then jump.

"Damn it!" the Captain slammed his fist into the bunkhead. "For Qonns sake I hope we don't get into a war over here..."

The following message was sent, highly coded, to the CoreWorlds fleet:
Fleet is not, repeat, NOT coming. Command requests data gathering before jumping. Is a temporary alliance possible? Simply to protect us in case of a battle? In exchange, we promise all the data we collect.

OOC: Sorry about the crappy way of stopping the fleet. I've seen FT threads die because there was too many fleets in one area. Oh, and The Destructors, I've edited my last post.

Kaelas grinned under his helmet, taking a couple steps forward. He found himself liking these creatures; they seemed just as chaotic and war-loving as themselves, though seemingly geared towards consuming "protein". Whatever that was. Crossing his arms, he gazed at the Death Spectre's. "So, it is quite natural for me to ask of my hosts: Where would you like to take me so we can begin discussions. And by discussions, I do not mean bring them, trap them and then eat them. Besides, my kind no longer have...proteins as you call them. In fact, we aren't even carbon-based anymore. That and our blood can kill anything carbon-based, so in all, you could class us in the 'food-poisoning' section." A dry grin found itself on his face as he waved an arm at them.

"Or we can discuss here; anything is fine with me. But, we'd like it to be not too long. We do miss the rush of war and would like to feed our own hunger of sorts." Chuckling, he awaited their answer, curious to see how they would react now. They were like unstable balls of energy; you never knew what they would do next.

A single vessel about twice as large as the great pyrimid, but shaped the same, seems to inflate above the planet.

'High commander, sir, we have arrived at number 87, possible outpost-world of the Gaelians, though there appears some activity, should we investigate'

'Indeed, open a channel'

"This is the high commander of the Holy Velarian Empire fleet-ship 7, is this world an outpost of the Gaelian traitors?'

Velarians are metamorphic humanoids who in their begining years have a blueish tinge to their skin, and in later years evolve into a form of pure energy and require a direct connection to technology for continued life and to interact with the outside world. They have highly advanced technology, mainly warships made all the more effective by the integration of older Velarians into the very heart of the vessles.

*pop*

It appeared directly in front of the Coredian party, staring wide-eyed at the newcomers as it held a piece of well cooked steak in its cloven paws. A slight cock of its head revealed a small amount of confusion at these particular aliens, less from the fact they were aliens and more from the fact that nobody had told them to come down yet.

A couple others popped up from the ground and stared as well, just before the first one opened its gaping maw and tore the steak to shreds in under five seconds, metal jaws working like a shredder. After it finished, it returned to its normal self, and then burst into its wild-eyed grin of death.

"AH-HA!"

It vanished back into its hole, plunging the world back into silence save for the occasional *pop* of more Death Spectres coming up from the ground to inspect these strange aliens. They did not move an inch save for their initial appearance, instead staring forward, still as stone, the only sign of life being that every now and then one vanished from existence, to be replaced by another.

The first one returned, bearing a skull, long since bleached white, but hosting a very well maintained head of supernaturally golden spiky hair. The creature's horrendous grin widened even further, nearly splitting itself in two with its own enthusiasm. Then it shrieked, its high-pitched voice breaking through the silence like a sonic knife through butter.

"ITS OVER NINE THOUSAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAND!"

The others began to hop up and down with glee, as though given the answer to a question that had been pestering the entire collection. They started shrieking of their own accord, bouncing around the general area with their treacherous teeth working and bloodshot stares constantly focused on the newcomers.

"I HOPE MY BODY CAN TAKE IT!"

"IT DOESN'T MAKE A BIT OF DIFFERENCE!"

"DO IT OR THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE IS GOING TO DIE!"

"THE BALLS ARE INERT!"

"ITS OVER NINE THOUSAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAND!"

"IIITTTSSS OOOVVVEEERRR NNNIIINNNEEE TTTHHHOOOUUUSSSAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNDDD!"

"WHAT NINE THOUSAND?!"

Then, as quickly as it started, every single one of them returned to their places, staring forward at the Aliens with bloodshot eyes and blood-curdling grins. The first one spoke again, quickly joined by the others:

"THEY STOOD STILL A LOT."

"KINETIC RODS ARE FUNNY."

"SPIRIT BOM-- *squish*"

The seven shinobi all stood in shock at the sheer weirdness of the Death Spectres as they yelled and screamed the last words of their last victim, who happened to be a member of a race of superbeings.

Then, it happened.

"Hahahahahahaha! I like this race! What sweet vengeance for the Saiyans!" Ryujin laughed so hard that he fell off Keith's shoulders.

Naruto's belly began to rumble and his voice changed to one of evil and sarcastic mirth. "I agree! I have fought those same beings before and never have I thought to use something as simple as a KE kill weapon! Hahahaha!"

Naruto stole back control of his body, although he was faintly amused by the death woes of the Saiyan. "Shut it, you damned fox!" He said half-heartedly.

The kids were completely weirded out. Not only did the Death Spectres kill a being that gave the Kyuubi no Youma a good workout, the two powerful beasts were laughing at the ignomious fate of said being. That being said, they eventually quieted down.

Keith swallowed and stepped forward. "I guess it's as good a time for introductions. I am Keith Masaki. The dragon here is Ryujin. These are my friends Asuka ("Hi!"), Haruka ("Yo."), Shinji ("Um, hello."), and our Master, Naruto ("Aren't I supposed to do the introductions, kid?"). What do you call yourselves?"

A single vessel about twice as large as the great pyrimid, but shaped the same, seems to inflate above the planet.

'High commander, sir, we have arrived at number 87, possible outpost-world of the Gaelians, though there appears some activity, should we investigate'

'Indeed, open a channel'

"This is the high commander of the Holy Velarian Empire fleet-ship 7, is this world an outpost of the Gaelian traitors?'

Velarians are metamorphic humanoids who in their begining years have a blueish tinge to their skin, and in later years evolve into a form of pure energy and require a direct connection to technology for continued life and to interact with the outside world. They have highly advanced technology, mainly warships made all the more effective by the integration of older Velarians into the very heart of the vessles.
"Um, Captain? There appears to be a pyramid-shaped ship in orbit of this planet. They're asking about some 'traitors' of theirs."

The Captain frowned. "Are they Goa'uld?"

"No, Holland. It doesn't fit the known configurations for the Goa'uld."

"Hmm. Another new race."

Reply to the pyramid ship: "We have no knowledge of the Gaelians, friend. However, if you tell us who you are, maybe we could help you keep an eye on these traitors of yours."

OOC:
The following message was sent, highly coded, to the CoreWorlds fleet:

Quote: Tightbeam transmission
Fleet is not, repeat, NOT coming. Command requests data gathering before jumping. Is a temporary alliance possible? Simply to protect us in case of a battle? In exchange, we promise all the data we collect.
(from post #31)
Please respond

"Your Lordship, I think you should take a look at this...."

Karvan scurried over to the large view screen this technician controlling.

"My my, I see what you mean. Such a lot of activity there's been around here while we were gone! You ever notice how a star system can go for decades, or even millennia, without receiving a single visitor, and then have ships from half a dozen nations show up over the course of a few hours or so, with no obvious relation in the reasons for their arrival? I've seen it happen several times, myself; kind of makes you wonder about the nature of history, sometimes.

"Anyway, how much longer 'till we reach the planet?"

"About fifteen minutes, Lord."

"Um, Captain? There appears to be a pyramid-shaped ship in orbit of this planet. They're asking about some 'traitors' of theirs."

The Captain frowned. "Are they Goa'uld?"

"No, Holland. It doesn't fit the known configurations for the Goa'uld."

"Hmm. Another new race."

Reply to the pyramid ship: "We have no knowledge of the Gaelians, friend. However, if you tell us who you are, maybe we could help you keep an eye on these traitors of yours."

Reply to message: We are Delegates of the Holy Velarian Empire, currently tracking a group of Gaelian traitors, the energy signature left on the wrecked vessels surrounding this planet carry their signature. We believe them to be currently residing on the planet based on this information, they are dangerous but intellegent and should not attack an unknown enemy without first learning about them. Have you encountered any indiginous lifeforms?

The universe is big. Gargantuan. To say that a star system is but one infinitesimal speck in a galaxy is an understatement, and a galaxy is but an infinitesimal speck in the universe.

Therefore the odds of an exploratory vessel making a blind jump to this particular system at this particular time were approximately 891,927,087,874,098.2 to 1*.

This was the one.


The slipstream rift created by the gargantuan Explorer-class command ship tore the heavens asunder, compounded by the smaller but no less intimidating escort vessels.
"Bridge to all modules. Report status."
"Sensors, online."
"Weapons, online."
"Production, online."
"Support, online."
"Engineering, online."
"Of course Communications is fuckin' online you loudmouthed sonofa-"

Fighters, corvettes, and even frigates streamed from the immense openings on either side of the ship's bow as the destroyers and cruisers rearranged themselves into a sphere formation around the command ship.

"Bridge, sensors. Picking up metallic debris in orbit around the Class Three orbital. Composition and distribution suggest battle remains, possibly recent."

The goateed man sitting in the "bridge" of the IFV Silent Wayfarer rubbed his facial hair in contemplation as a holographic image of a young woman, dressed in a rough facsimile of an ancient terran milkmaid, appeared next to him.
"Captain, short jump coordinates are in perfect alignment. Reconnaissance and light armor assets are deploying to begin system survey."

"Good, Ferael. Very good. Looks like another boring survey mission-"

"BRIDGE, SENSORS! PICKING UP VESSELS OF UNKNOWN ORIGIN ON THE FAR SIDE OF THE PLANET!"

"What?!" sputtered the captain, staring in awe as the red dots began appearing across his panoramic view of the system. "Why did we not pick these up before?"

"Most likely hidden by the planet's electromagnetic shadow, Captain. Orders?"

Captain Rick Goldblum drew his face up in a tight-jawed look of determination. The gesture was largely unneeded, as he was the only "living" person on the "bridge". The Silent Wayfarer was not equipped with a siege cannon, as Admiral Hood had believed that a more scientific approach to the systems surrounding Coruc-Tel would prove more profitable than if they had gone in, guns-a-blazing. Besides, the Silent Wayfarer was protected by two battlecruisers and five destroyers, along with four frigate squadrons and a plethora of strike craft. What could go wrong?

This... thought Goldblum.

* Not actual statistic. I pull numbers out of my ass with the best of them.

CW:

The silence put forth by the Death Spectres was truly deafening, all the more amplified by the sheer lack of sound in the surrounding forest. The bloodshot stare from the lead creature mixed with the stares of the others around to present a discomfiting panorama of widened and quite reddened glares. Several eventually turned to each other, shrugging occasionally.

Death Spectres did not have names. They simply did not care enough to bother. When their entire civilization was built around cycles of all-out wars of annihilation and frenzies of technological development, names and bureaucracy were simply foreign considerations, to be utilized only in dealings with aliens who did not immediately see the Death Spectres as something in the way or something to be conquered. They knew what names were, but asking a Death Spectre's name was equivalent to asking a planet for its own name.

Finally, the lead creature spoke.

"NO NAMES. USELESS THINGS."

He indicated himself.

"RAZORMAW OF DEFENSIVE SECTOR 12. ALL OTHERS HERE ANSWER TO ME."

The others chittered in nigh-instinctive agreement. This organization seemed to be second nature to them, and the mechanics of the system would be woefully hard to discern.

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

Scrinthians:

The lead creature hopped forward from its hole, closer to the small collection of Kaldathi aliens. It sniffed the air with its button nose, and its ears worked constantly. It gave the aliens a speculative glance then considered the Tau helmet in its hands. After a moment's thought, it stopped and flung the helmet over its shoulder, whereupon it was immediately caught and spirited away by one of the other Death Spectres.

The Razormaw (forever on from this point known as 'The Lead Creature') turned to a couple others near the fore of the great grouping. It shrugged slightly, and the other two looked at each other. One buzzed, its great teeth seeming not to move, though the noise it made was truly deafening. The other clacked several times with its own jaws. Then the other hopped slightly in recognition.

"WE ARE THE BORG! LOWER YOUR SHIELDS AND DISABLE YOUR WEAPONS. YOUR TECHNOLOGICAL AND BIOLOGICAL DISTINCTIVENESS WILL BE ADDED TO OUR OWN. YOU WILL BE ASSIMIL-- OH SHIT..."

At this quote, several others in the group replied with a remarkably soft "ahhhhhhhh!"

"NON-MUNCHIES!"

"PTOOEY!"

"BAD AFTERTASTE!"

"NO EAT TIN CANS!"

The Razormaw turned back, its disturbing grin widened even further by recognition.

"WE STAY HERE. NOTHING BIG ENOUGH FOR YOU DOWNBELOW. WHAT YOU OFFER? WE HAVE MANY GUNS. MANY BOMBS. WEAPONS FROM MANY ENEMIES NOW OURS TO CONTROL. WHAT YOU OFFER?"

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Guiding Fist:

The response was rather slow in coming, not because of any active resistance, but more because the Death Spectres well and truly had no clue what the newcomers were talking about. Eventually, a transmission surged forth, seemingly from out of nowhere...

WHAT TRAITORS? THIS IS DEATH SPECTRE WORLD. IF TRAITORS CAME. TRAITORS WERE EATEN. IF TRAITORS WERE EATEN... THEY TASTED LIKE CHICKEN.

MMM

CHICKEN.

YOU HAS CHEEZBURGER?

OOC: I'll post a response to Feazanthia's arrival tomorrow ish... rest assured tho... bigass ship pops in and the first thing it does is deploy secondary vessels... short of opening fire that's about the most hostile move a Death Spectre could percieve...

Thirty eight light-days out from Destructor system, a slipstream gate opens and ejects a large, sprawling Traileric trade barge. The curvaceous contraption defecates some unhealthy looking zero-point reaction waste. Within minutes, a routine position check is performed, zeroing in on the nearest appreciable star. Another handful of calibrations, and the trade barge opens a slipstream gate, and promptly disappears therein.

The slipgate though brilliantly bright, harmful to look at unprotected even, was dwarfed, nay, utterly lost in the brilliance of the Destructor star. Only about thirty million kilometers out from the star's fiery corona, compression fields at full strength, the barge unfolded it's underbelly, great panels unfolding from therein. These were instantly turned white hot from the solar radiation. It only took a few seconds of exposure to recharge the zero-point plant inside the barge. Not even bothering to acknowledge the varying species and craft in the system, the trader did a small hop to the system's edge, ejected more reactive space phlegm, and jumped off to parts unknown.

The Galaxian stumbled more than flew out of slipspace. With multiple char marks as well as several holes in the sides of the Yetsub-class destroyer only one thing was clear. The ship was going down.

*****
Distress transmission hailed to unknown planet and Scaveutland home system
***************
Attention. This is the GCS Galaxian. Our ship has been damaged by raiders and is attempting emergency landing on foreign planet.

To all native life. Please respond and if possible we beseech aid in the repairs of our ship.

To Scaveutland home system and recovery fleet. Ship has crashed in unknown planet. Coordinates 89732,-2615,99182 Please attempt rescue.
****************

Captain Munroe sat ever patiently on the bridge of the wounded Galaxian. A rudimentary scan had shown not only lifeforms on the surface, but also multiple and varied types of space craft above the planet.

"Captain." Came a 'Sound only' transmission from Engineering, "The engines are damaged considerably. We cannot maintain orbit for more than 3 hours. We'll have to land before we crash."

"Confirmed," Said Munroe, with an air of someone who had just heard the exact opposite of what he wanted to hear, "Set course for planet surface. And send a transmission to all ships in the area and the natives."

"Aye sir."

*********
Attention. The GCS Galaxian is required to make an emergency landing on planet surface. Please do not be alarmed. Repeat. The GCS Galaxian is required to make an emergency landing on planet surface. Please do not be alarmed. Thank you.

OOC: Note. The Scaveutii are medium height- about 5 and one half feet tall. And are almost pearly white in color. Including hair and eyes. Scaveutii also have a single tail, hairless, that extends from the tail bone. Length is on average, 2 feet, and has developed both nerves and muscles for controlled movement. Otherwise like humans.

'High commander, sir, if indeed the traitors are dead then these creatures saved us a great deal of grief, however...ah gruesome the method of death.'

'I agree, we should still confirm the deaths however'

Transmission to planet: "This is High commander of Velarian fleet-ship 7, the traitors would have been apoximately 7ft tall on average, lightly armored, and their weapons would have induced a highly painful if not always leathal shock. Did you in fact...eat...creatures resembleing this description?"

'Sir, we have also just picked up the approch of a small fleet of vessels, the majoity of which seem to be warships escorting another vessel of some kind'

'understood 3 open a channel"

Transmission to Gargantuans: "This is High commander of Velarian fleet-ship 7, we have come to this system in pursuit of some traitors from our home empire, our intentions are hostile only to them if we have somehow offended your people please allow us time to confirm the deaths of the traitors and we will be gone before you know it."

'There,' said High commander, 'that should keep them at bay.'

'but sir, our weapons would blow them to Ashros'

'Exactly, 4, exactly'

OOC: Members of the Velarian military do not have names, officers are refered to by their rank, others are refered to as a number value, each vessel begins a new count (ie. vessel 1 would have numbers 1,2,3...and vessel 2 would have numbers 1,2,3...vessel 3 numbers 1,2,3...etc) for multi vessel fleets members are refered to by their vessel number first then rank or rank number (as their may be multiple comanders, 1's,2's...etc)

Thirty eight light-days out from Destructor system, a slipstream gate opens and ejects a large, sprawling Traileric trade barge. The curvaceous contraption defecates some unhealthy looking zero-point reaction waste. Within minutes, a routine position check is performed, zeroing in on the nearest appreciable star. Another handful of calibrations, and the trade barge opens a slipstream gate, and promptly disappears therein.

The slipgate though brilliantly bright, harmful to look at unprotected even, was dwarfed, nay, utterly lost in the brilliance of the Destructor star. Only about thirty million kilometers out from the star's fiery corona, compression fields at full strength, the barge unfolded it's underbelly, great panels unfolding from therein. These were instantly turned white hot from the solar radiation. It only took a few seconds of exposure to recharge the zero-point plant inside the barge. Not even bothering to acknowledge the varying species and craft in the system, the trader did a small hop to the system's edge, ejected more reactive space phlegm, and jumped off to parts unknown.

OOC: This, ladies and gents, is accidental first contact. ._.

OOC: Scaveutland, be so kind as to remove your second post. After the Feazanthian fleet's arrival, the Destructors would shoot down any ship that makes an attempt to come down without permission, whether or not that ship has presented a reason.

I HAD a pretty long post done up for the response to the Feazanthian fleet's arrival, but my computer decided to do a hard reboot out of nowhere, removing the majority of the post.

I'd like to ask that nobody actually post until I can get the full thing up. Should be up by tomorrow at the latest. Just a bit to deal with the Guiding Fist bunch because I was gonna have a response for them take place before the Feazanthian arrival.

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

Guiding Fist:

A transmission came from somewhere else in the system with remarkable speed following the Velarian transmission.

WE DID NOT CARE ABOUT PHYSICAL ATTRIBUTES. THEY CAME. THEY SHOT AT US. WE SHOT BACK. WE WON. TIME OF BATTLE, TWENTY EIGHT POINT FOUR NINE SECONDS FROM INITIATION TO TERMINATION OF FULL SCALE HOSTILITIES.

WE ATE THEIR DEAD. WE QUESTIONED THEIR LIVING. WE KILLED THEIR LIVING. WE ATE THEM. THERE IS NOTHING REMAINING UPON WHICH TO BASE ANY CONFIRMATION. UNLESS YOU INCLUDE THE PRESENCE OF YUMMY IN OUR TUMMY.

The arrival of a single massive ship inspired no initial concern from the Death Spectres, as they had at this point grown used to aliens popping in out of nowhere and either asking questions about various inane subjects or asking about the possibility of allegiance. There was some tension in the air as things were starting to heat up slightly with the Xiscapian contingent, however, after it was recognized, in however roundabout a manner, that the aliens hoped to use the Death Spectres as a weapon against their own enemies. Presently, there was a low growl starting to rise up amongst the Death Spectres present at that particular meeting.

Their entire culture was built from multiple all-out conflicts against aliens that saw fit to either conquer or exterminate them. Even the offhand insinuation of presenting the Death Spectres with anything bearing the hallmarks of the most infinitesimally subservient role in any agreement was sufficient to switch their mindset from 'Happy Chitter Chitter' to 'Angry Clack Clack Growl'... the latter mindset also coming hand in hand with the 'Make No Sudden Movements' outlook.

However, things stopped somewhat cold when the latest massive ship's first action was to disgorge a legion of secondary ships. Tactics such as this were not unknown to the Spectres, having seen multiple precedents for such a thing being the precursor to invasion. Typically, in such circumstances, no communication was given, and the aliens proceeded to open hostilities without uttering word one. In one case, the aliens had been not so much unwilling to talk as they were unable, being telepathic creatures bent on securing more resources for themselves. They made funny noises when they died... tasted like crap though.

Unfortunately, the second aspect of their precedents was only reinforced by the fact that not a single transmission had come from the mothership to the planet itself, instead initiating a frenzy of comms between the primary and secondary ships. This struck as combat preparations, more than any form of exploratory maneuver.

The Death Spectres planetside stopped cold. An odd hooting began to waft through the trees, and the Razormaw of each meeting area brought out a strange pair of goggles, placing them over their eyes and either looking up into the sky or directly at the ground, depending on what side of the planet they were on relative to the Feazanthian fleet. The goggles presented a visual representation of the situation in space, as though watching from the point of view of the planet.

A strange rumble from each of the Razormaws set the rest of the Death Spectres to chittering in agitation, tension building amongst them until at last, each Razormaw reared back and bared its respective teeth in an undulating roar that carried through the forests like wildfire. The sheer volume and bass of their roar contrasted enormously with their previously high-pitched shrieks and whistles, and though they'd screamed in a similar manner before to some of those gathered, this time the cry took on a whole new meaning...

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUGH!"

Then another ship materialized, barrelling its way towards the planet. This ship did not look like a member of the approaching-apparently-hostile fleet, but the Death Spectres had fought coalitions as well. The concept of multiple fleets under one banner was not unknown to them, but such would be of little assistance to the ship as it sent out a transmission saying it had to land to make repairs. Coalition assaults were far more damaging than normal situations, and though the Death Spectres inevitably triumphed, the conflicts had necessitated a second level of challenge against such forces.

To all outside observers, it was as though the system had come alive. Anything larger than a kilometer across throughout the system had suddenly sprouted a massive power signature and the telltales of thousands of different weapons charging up all at once. The Death Spectres had seen references in various databases of a spherical battle station controlled by one such coalition with sufficient firepower to destroy an entire planet, given a few minutes charging time. The combined power signatures starting up were geared towards eliminating the possibility of such a thing ever getting a shot off.

Comms signals began to flood space with massive amounts of chittering and shrieking and 'WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUGH!', as well as a comms message to the ship claiming need to make repairs:

YOU WILL MAINTAIN CURRENT ALTITUDE OR YOU WILL BE DESTROYED.

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

Down on the surface, the Razormaw of each meeting area removed its goggles and turned back to the aliens and spoke, each case having the same words.

"IF THEY MEET OUR CHALLENGE, WE WILL HAVE TROUBLE DIFFERENTIATING BETWEEN THE ENEMY AND NON-INVOLVED. SO MANY HAVE WE SEEN THAT ANYTHING COULD BE THE ENEMY."

The Captain, still in his frigate (for none of the Xiscapians had dared come outside their ship), nodded. "As such is, you wiould have a difficult time shooting us down." The gunner and comm officer shifted uneasily. Too many things had happened too fast. Xiscapians don't like sudden changes, especially if it has to do with dying.

Alarms across the Silent Wayfarer blared as readings streamed across the captain's holotank. It was as if the entire system itself was a giant weapon, and it had just been pointed at the head of the Feazanthian fleet.

"SENTINEL system engaged, Captain. However, gauging by the power readings I am getting-"
"It won't last long," finished Goldblum.
"According to sensor readings, the signal activating the power signiatures originated from the Class Three orbital. Suggest we state our intentions."
"Thank you. Open a channel, all known frequencies and languages."
"One moment...channel open. Speak when ready."

Goldblum cleared his throat, and began to speak what might be the most momentous words of his life.

This is the exploratory vessel Silent Wayfarer of the Feazanthian Dominion. We come in peace. I say again, we come in peace. We are merely on a mission of exploration and do not wish to open up hostilities.

The channel closed and Goldblum deflated slightly.
"Keep all weapons in standby mode, but be ready to open up if anything bigger than a pebble comes our way. I want tactical readouts on that planet and all surrounding vessels, now!"

'Hight commander, sir, it seems that the traitorous filth met their demise at the hands...or rather the teeth of the natives of this world.'

'Excellent, 3, open a direct conduit channel and encode a message to Velas informing them, inform them too that estimated arrival time will be aproxamately 14 lunar cycles, due to lack of sufficient gravity in the current sector.'

*sensors detect massive energy spikes*

'Sir!, massive energy fluctuations from the planet and surrounding sattilites.'

'What! Ready all weapon systems, engage the phase shielding and prepare to launch fleet should they decide to attack. Open a channel to the planet'

"This is High commander of Velarian fleet-ship 7 we mean you no harm but must remain in the system for another 12 hours, if one of the other visitors has upset you please do not associate us with them, we are a people unto ourselves, but be warned should hostile action be taken against us we are prepared to defend ourselves."

OOC:

1:A velarian lunar cycle=1 hour

2:Phase shielding places the vessel and anything on the vessel out of phase no projectile weapon can damage it and energy weapons will be incredably weak, but the vessel cannot attack without removing the shielding as its weapons would also be out of phase, the switching on/off of the shielding takes aprox. 2min

3:Velarian 'fleet-ships' are exactly what the name would imply, they carry part of a fleet of vessels: 1 mothership, 2 mid-range destroyers, 4 short-range destroyers, 48-60 fighters, the 'fleet-ship' itself serves as flagship

Down on the surface, the Razormaw of each meeting area removed its goggles and turned back to the aliens and spoke, each case having the same words.

"IF THEY MEET OUR CHALLENGE, WE WILL HAVE TROUBLE DIFFERENTIATING BETWEEN THE ENEMY AND NON-INVOLVED. SO MANY HAVE WE SEEN THAT ANYTHING COULD BE THE ENEMY."
"Our fleet will be fine." Naruto said brightly. I hope.

Onboard the Coredia, however, there was a slight difference in opinion.

"Captain, multiple contacts incoming, bearing no known configuration!" Suddenly, Gidget suddenly blanched. "Captain, I'm getting hordes of firing solutions all over the system!"

"Raise the shields!" The Captain ordered. "What's happening?"

"I don't know. That last fleet came in and then the whole system lit up with firing solutions. I can't even begin to imagine where these 'Death Spectres' got all these weapons and equipment."

"Damn. How are the gang?" Holland was prepared to fight to bring Naruto and his charges up to safety, but against these odds...he doubted even the Death Star could fight its way through this system.

"Last I heard, they're fine. I'll hail them."

"No, not right now. I don't want to spook these beings any more than necessary. Naruto can take care of himself." Holland said, and mentally crossed his fingers. "Get me a tactical scan on every equipment these beings have!"

"Yes, sir!" Gidget said and began collecting information on the Death Spectres.

The Angelic Gopher ships were roughly 12 light minutes from Slaughter when the entire system lit up like one incredibly large fortress. As they were already past many of the weapon systems that were rapidly activating, retreat did not appear to be a wise choice; it might be seen as evidence of bad intentions. The fleet did, however, drop to an effective speed of about c. Moments later, a transmission was sent out. While directed toward the cluster of assorted ships that had gathered around Slaughter, it would certainly be detected by the planet's inhabitants.

Unknown vessels, this is the Spring Shower, command ship of the Angori scouting fleet Karvan's Whiskers. Would anyone be so kind as to tell us what in the Holy Ones' names is going on around here?!

Feazanthia:

Comms burst forth from the void, not so 'out of nowhere' anymore as the source of each transmission came from one of the more heavily fortified power readings throughout the system.

YOU WILL RETURN ALL SECONDARY VESSELS TO PRIMARY. THEY WILL REMAIN UNDEPLOYED UNLESS OTHERWISE PRESENTED WITH PERMISSION TO RETURN TO ACTIVE STATIONS. DEFIANCE IS DEATH.

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

The Guiding Fist:

Raising shields was all well and good. Arming weapons was not. Communications came from somewhere else in the system, from either one of the moons or some piece of ancient space debris orbiting the planet.

YOU WILL POWER DOWN WEAPONS AND REMAIN POWERED DOWN UNLESS OTHERWISE PRESENTED WITH PERMISSION TO DO OTHERWISE. DEFIANCE IS DEATH. YOU ARE HERE AT OUR SUFFERANCE. IF YOU SHOOT AT US, OR ANY THAT WE PRESENTLY HOST, YOUR FLEET WILL NOT MAKE IT OUT OF ORBIT.

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

CW:

Luckily, the Coredian fleet's reaction had been the least provocative thus far, and did not warrant a communication demanding stand-down. If anything, the results of their scan would've been enough to advise that 'Defiance Was Death' simply by sheer virtue of what was being waved around.

It truly was a medley of death, resulting from the pilfered and pirated technologies of possibly hundreds of would-be invaders. If anything, the Death Spectres had shown in one move their greatest strength: the ability to adapt technology into a sort of 'Death Soup'. Borg Polaron Shield Disruptors, Imperial Turbolasers, Nova Cannons, Plasma cannons of various type, even the occasional warp cannon and axial laser came to immediate notice. Other weapons were harder to define. Several civilizations that none had ever before seen had sent forces to assault Slaughter, with the resultant death and ransacking. Somewhere in the system was something that mirrored one of the fleets roaming around. The statement was enough of a 'We could kill you if we wanted to' in itself, but it also had a slight connotation of 'whoever you are, chances are we've killed your type before.'

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

AG:

OOC: I keep forgetting I need to post in the find them thread...

The Death Spectres noted the similarity between the newest-comers and a probe they had spotted shortly before the fleet of days past had attempted their shot at dominion. The ships had been seen coming for some time, but as soon as weapons went up, their adoption of a somewhat deferential posture allayed the concerns of various trigger-happy eyes within firing range.

As their communication went out, the Destructors decided to allow the other fleets to respond first. This fleet knew what it was getting into before any of the others. They did not need an obligatory screaming-at.

The Angelic Gopher ships were roughly 12 light minutes from Slaughter when the entire system lit up like one incredibly large fortress. As they were already past many of the weapon systems that were rapidly activating, retreat did not appear to be a wise choice; it might be seen as evidence of bad intentions. The fleet did, however, drop to an effective speed of about c. Moments later, a transmission was sent out. While directed toward the cluster of assorted ships that had gathered around Slaughter, it would certainly be detected by the planet's inhabitants.

Unknown vessels, this is the Spring Shower, command ship of the Angori scouting fleet Karvan's Whiskers. Would anyone be so kind as to tell us what in the Holy Ones' names is going on around here?!
The message was recieved by the Winter. A transmission was sent back:
Several fleets of various different races and nations have crowded about this planet. Mostly diplomatic or exploritory vessals, but there is plenty of firepower to be had. On the planet, which is named by the Natives as "Slaughter", is a race of rodent-like creatures. While unhostile and even stupid seeming at first, these are beings of destruction. Apparently they eat all they kill and those weapons left over from various pirates, maruaders and assualting fleets are set up into a awesomely powerful solar defense system, which you may have seen. While not openly hostile or even aggresive, these creatures are not to be trusted.
After the message was sent the Captain hit the button to lower the loading ramp. He stepped out to face the Death Spectures facing him. "Permission to see the other parties now onplanet." He spoke to the one who seemed to be the leader.

OOC-Got jumped at work, nose broken and high on Vicodin. Posting may be off a day or two.

Quote:
YOU WILL POWER DOWN WEAPONS AND REMAIN POWERED DOWN UNLESS OTHERWISE PRESENTED WITH PERMISSION TO DO OTHERWISE. DEFIANCE IS DEATH. YOU ARE HERE AT OUR SUFFERANCE. IF YOU SHOOT AT US, OR ANY THAT WE PRESENTLY HOST, YOUR FLEET WILL NOT MAKE IT OUT OF ORBIT.

'Sir, we should play along, now that we see how these creatures react to threat this planet could be a great tactical advantage.'

'Yes, or a grave tactical error, however I agree. 5 Stand down weapons, but be ready to recharge them immediatly should we have need.'

'Yes sir!'

Transmission to Destructors:

"We appologize for weapons, but We believe you would understand the effect of thousands of new energy signs popping out of nowhere, We overreacted, We wish for non-aggression between our people."

YOU WILL RETURN ALL SECONDARY VESSELS TO PRIMARY. THEY WILL REMAIN UNDEPLOYED UNLESS OTHERWISE PRESENTED WITH PERMISSION TO RETURN TO ACTIVE STATIONS. DEFIANCE IS DEATH.

Captain Goldblum simply stared at the holotank for a few moments, blinking foolishly. He coughed, quickly regaining his composure.
"Touchy little buggers, aren't they? Never seen anyone pissed by an autolaunch sequence. Alright, if that's how they want it, that's how they can have it. All strike craft, return to hangar and await instructions," he waited several moments, watching as the mixed force of fighters and corvettes began trickling into the mammoth hangar module beneath the main decks. "Command to Indomitable, take point. We need to find out what we're up against. All ships report status on slipstream readiness."

As both groups stood down in the methods demanded by their respective challenges, the Death Spectres drew down their own weapons, powering down system defenses in proportion to the offensive capabilities noted by each of the 'mistaken' fleets. Though their defenses never truly went back to zero, the immediate threat of system-wide conflagration seemed to have fallen away.

For the Feazanthian fleet, a new communication was sent, with an ever so slightly less hostile tone in its speech patterns.

STAND DOWN NOTED. STATE PURPOSE FOR PRESENCE.

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

To the Guiding Fist vessel:

NON-AGGRESSION HERE NOW. CHANGE COME BY YOUR ACTION. DON'T CHANGE IT.

Directly below the Guiding Fist vessel, a new sequence of flares erupted, presenting a landing space approximately large enough for a shuttle to land.

CW:

Luckily, the Coredian fleet's reaction had been the least provocative thus far, and did not warrant a communication demanding stand-down. If anything, the results of their scan would've been enough to advise that 'Defiance Was Death' simply by sheer virtue of what was being waved around.

It truly was a medley of death, resulting from the pilfered and pirated technologies of possibly hundreds of would-be invaders. If anything, the Death Spectres had shown in one move their greatest strength: the ability to adapt technology into a sort of 'Death Soup'. Borg Polaron Shield Disruptors, Imperial Turbolasers, Nova Cannons, Plasma cannons of various type, even the occasional warp cannon and axial laser came to immediate notice. Other weapons were harder to define. Several civilizations that none had ever before seen had sent forces to assault Slaughter, with the resultant death and ransacking. Somewhere in the system was something that mirrored one of the fleets roaming around. The statement was enough of a 'We could kill you if we wanted to' in itself, but it also had a slight connotation of 'whoever you are, chances are we've killed your type before.'
The Imperial Navy was bad, but manageable if a captain doesn't play stupid. The Chronosian Fleet was worse, but still defeatable, although at a higher cost. Each enemy the Coredian Navy faced, it still managed to send packing, if not through technology, then through the tenacity and kick-ass attitude of the men and women who crew the ships.

This system...was sheer insanity. It had weapons readouts from every known civilization the Coredians have come across (some it has vanquished), and then some. It had weapons that would make Vector R&D drool oceans at the thought of gaining access to them. It had weapons even the Kyuubi and the Dragon King, both of whom lived well over ten thousand years and amassed the appropriate level of knowledge, has never heard of.

The question in the mind of the Captain, indeed, the crew of the Coredia and her escorts came to the fore.

What in the name of the Avatar of the Force were these things?!?

=====

"So...um...is everything OK up there?" Naruto asked the Razormaw. "Hope nobody got shot."

STAND DOWN NOTED. STATE PURPOSE FOR PRESENCE.

As the battlecruiser Indomitable took up a position between the planet and the Silent Wayfarer, the synthetic-yet-feminine voice of the command ship's A.I. streamed forth on all known channels. The Communications module had yet to lock down a precise frequency.

We are merely on a mission of exploration and survey. Our star charts of this system are outdated and require updating. Our reconnaissance fighters are essential to our survey work. The Feazanthian Dominion humbly requests permission to deploy them.

"...humbly? We do not 'humbly' request anything! Little pricks damn near opened fire on us for no reason!"

"Captain, diplomacy is paramount here. Especially as our vessels will be unable to transition to Slipstream for another five minutes."

The Razormaw in front of Naruto shuffled and mumbled for a moment, clacking and chittering horribly all the while, then grinned its hateful grin once again.

"THEY BACKED DOWN. HERE WE RULE."

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

The Feazanthians might have become even more annoyed at the 'arrogance' of the Destructors as the response came through on comms.

REQUEST DENIED. STANDARD SHIP SENSORS ONLY. NO IN-DEPTH SCANNING.

'High commander, sir, it appears they wish for a small landing party to approach, a pad has appeared'

'Well, considering what they did to the traitors, and almost did to this entire system I am hesitant to land, but I am also hesitant to do anything that would seem dishonest, I want them kept peaceable for as long as possible if they cannot be negotiated with I want them destroyed, begain modifying a black hole conversion drive from one of the bombers cause a system wide implosion, but ensure that no obvious energy signature is emitted until absolutely nescisary. 10 prepare a shuttle, 2nd Leiutenent 1, Commander, and crewmembers 12, 14, 18, 20, 42, and 68 will be heading down, ensure that they are all equiped with emergency phase cloak badges, no weapons.'

'yes sir, 115 prepare the gemini shuttle.'

moments later the small shuttle was drifting down elegantly to the tiny landing pad set in an almost artificial clearing.

OOC: Negative on System Destroyers. This is, beyond anything else, an intro thread. I ain't gonna have anybody make an attempt at causing the race's extinction here. You're always welcome to make an attempt... just understand its gonna fail... and piss them off.

Plus, I'd been debating the following for a while...

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

IC:

As the little shuttle approached planetside, things happened.

Within the great caverns below, Razormaws of multiple defense sectors conferred amongst each other about how swiftly their latest blitzkrieg had attracted so many new creatures from beyond the edge of the system. So much life. So much protein. Now that they had their own working version of a hyperdrive, they would be able to travel to these systems, to see the new things roaming around, and to eat new and interesting things. The prospect alone was sufficient to cause drooling.

But they did not discount the tactical side of things. A lot of fleets had appeared in relatively close orbit. Including one still some distance away. They initially allowed the fleets to come, relying on the beacon to keep people 'nice', but now things had taken on a slight tension. One fleet had provoked them already, and another had betrayed an unwillingness to allow their hosts' good graces to protect them in this system. The former had backed down. The Latter had backed down and apologized, but it was sensed that a second attempt to establish their supposed superiority would be made.

Not permissible.

The Razormaws chattered and chittered incessantly, debating with growl and fang the possibilities to counter a present fleet making an attempt to terminate the world of Slaughter. The consensus eventually fell upon one of their oldest acquisitions. Insane clacking burst through the caverns as they brought the security measure online.

The system flared again, and if any ship were equipped with the proper sensors, they would have noted the activation of a truly massive inhibitor field. Stations and outposts throughout the system added their own power to the field, creating overlapping areas of Lockdown with a remarkable intensity.

The communication came one half second later:

HERE WE RULE. SOME INCLINED TO CHALLENGE. PLAY NICE OR DON'T LEAVE.

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

OOC: This is basically the Destructors putting forward the 'Right... that's enough folks here' field. From this point on, no newcomers. A fleet can leave if they ask nicely, but if they try to force their way out, bad things will happen. No singularities. No wormholes. No hyperspace-missiles. Yadda yadda yadda.

OOC: My frigate dosn't use any of those following drives for it's engine power, and is therefore unaffected by your field. Furthermore, unless your people are insanely paranoid or can somehow use the Force to sense the Guiding Fist's intentions, there is no way they could know that they are considering attacking Slaughter. This is why I hate RPing sometimes. You'll post you're intentions without making them public ICly and the other guy will act on them anyway. You get what I'm saying?

OOC: The "black hole conversion drive" is the means of transportation for the Velarians (they control and warp gravitational fields, the bigger the field the farther they can travel) and the larger the implosion field the faster they can escape and the more vessels they can bring with them, the field occurs in the that space/time phase differental as the phase shielding/phase cloak technology and so cannot have any effect on your planet or any of the other vessels. The reason for the "system wide field" is so the landing party will be swept up to safety if escape is needed. Also as it occurs out of phase of normal space/time your dampening field thing will have little to no effect on it. The modification could have been see as a weapon being charged.

IC: the small shuttle landed in the clearing.

'it's quiet out there.'

'42, you idiot, no sound can be transmitted inside'

'oh, right'

'2nd Leiutenent, sir, we should use the holo-projectors to make first contact'

'right, 12, power 'em up'

holo-projectors engage sending an exact replica of each crewmember of the shuttle on to the landing field outside.

OOC: holo-projectors are reminicent of "Star Trek" and only a great force directed at a hologram will show it to be anything other than real.

OOC: Oh I get what you're saying. The whole 'Systemwide Implosion' bit insinuated a system-destroyer of some kind, and if anybody pulls that kind of shit they'll be straight up ignored. And it is especially because the field operates 'outside the bounds of space time' that the FTLi field WILL in fact operate just fine. I'm not talking one specific kind of FTLi field either. I mean multiple different types. But then, so long as the guys 'Play Nice' they can ask for permission to leave and a little corridor will open up to leave the system. Play your cards right and it won't be an issue.

The amusing part about this is more along the lines that they have only just gotten a Hyperdrive, but have had the means to stop people from using theirs, and others from using different types of FTL in general, for several thousand years.

OOC:just to clarify, is the reason for the FTL field thing because of the amount of players and its getting confusing dealing with them all?

and my vessels drive would still work as it manipulates gravity to allow for near instantaneous travel, even if it would stop the creation of the artificial black hole it could still use the system's sun, moon, or even the planet itself. it would be a more limited jump but it would still get through your FTL field thing. if this isn't possible then you would basically be shutting off most of the players' systems entirely because the manipulation of the gravitational fields are from a marrying of my species vessels' sublight engines, shields, and life support.

The Razormaw in front of Naruto shuffled and mumbled for a moment, clacking and chittering horribly all the while, then grinned its hateful grin once again.

"THEY BACKED DOWN. HERE WE RULE."
"That's good." Naruto nodded, ignoring the kids' wanting to leave for the moment. "Now, as we see it, we Galactic Alliance folks like to make friends of all stripes and shapes. I am wondering if you'd be interested in becoming a partner member of the Alliance. Or at least a partner of one particular nation, known as Coreworlds."

OOC: There's no poofing of one's capacity to generate a slightly localized field to get around at sublight speeds. But FTL jumps WILL be disrupted. A Black Hole/Singularity is a dimensional rift, and will be counteracted, whether you try using another body's gravitational field or not.

It is a double measure. It is meant to effectively close the thread off from further participants (though a TG query would be effective for anybody who wishes to still come in. We can just have them show up before the whole thing, though a little further out so it takes some time to get through the system), and also to prevent anybody who might make an attempt at singularity bombing the sun or some other critical system asset.

Consider it insurance against irresponsible RPing. If you're gonna piss the Death Spectres off, don't think you can do so and 'get away'. I don't want this to turn into a combat thread by any means... there's just IC issues that the Death Spectres have about various forms of behavior, and I won't hesitate to make them 'go nuts' if the situation requires. Depending on how y'all deal with 'em, it SHOULDN'T devolve into a combat thread.

Now, let us try to keep OOC clutter down to a minimum.

IC post tomorrow-ish. Gonna see about drawing this down, now that I'm satisfied with the number of fleets, and see about various things that'll happen.

OOC: I know you said keep OOC chatter to a minimum, but I have one last question. This is an intro thread, no? So your mission here is to basiclly scout out who comes and decide if you want to eat them or not. Is this actually going to go anywhere, or is it just a kind of a "get to know each other" thread?

OOC: More of a test thread, really. I've got their general temperament, ideology, and even fundamental biochemistry down, and I want to see what'll happen in an FT situation with what amounts to a non-humanoid race, both in physical terms and in terms of 'thought processes'. There likely won't be much consideration for trade agreements, though other 'agreements' might be made if one pays attention to never ever even hinting at the possibility of anything even remotely resembling a subservient role.

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

IC:

Guiding Fist:

A single Death Spectre appeared before the photonic facsimiles of the newly arrived crew, maintaining a veneer of cuteness in its wide-eyed stare and curious posture. It sniffed the air repeatedly, and kept its stare locked on the closest hologram.

A couple others appeared behind it, similarly staring at the holograms. One looked at the other after a moment, and a conversation of high pitched squeaking ensued, eventually ending with the following confirmation.

"STOKE ME A KIPPER, I'LL BE BACK FOR BREAKFAST!"

The other reared back slightly and "Ahh"'d in response, then turned back to stare at the holograms.

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

CW:

One of the Death Spectres nearby became visibly agitated at the mention of 'Alliance', chittering and clacking angrily with its horrendous jaws. The Razormaw chittered and clacked right back, silencing the other with the sound of twin jackhammers.

"COALITIONS COME BEFORE. ALWAYS COME TO DESTROY AND CONQUER. SHIRASSI, TAU, BORG. NO ALLIANCE. NO PIECE IN PUZZLE. WE GO AS WE WISH. WE WANT... ALTERNATE AGREEMENT."

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

Xiscapia:

The Death Spectres mulled the question over for a few moments, then focused back on the Xiscapians themselves.

"REQUEST DENIED. YOU HERE. YOU TALK TO US. YOU TALK TO THEM ELSEWHERE."

The Captain nodded his head. "As you wish. This is your world."

CW:

One of the Death Spectres nearby became visibly agitated at the mention of 'Alliance', chittering and clacking angrily with its horrendous jaws. The Razormaw chittered and clacked right back, silencing the other with the sound of twin jackhammers.

"COALITIONS COME BEFORE. ALWAYS COME TO DESTROY AND CONQUER. SHIRASSI, TAU, BORG. NO ALLIANCE. NO PIECE IN PUZZLE. WE GO AS WE WISH. WE WANT... ALTERNATE AGREEMENT."
"Aah." Naruto nodded, as if agreeing. In reality, he was screaming his brains off at the beast caged within his body for assistance. The fox demon whacked him upside the head with a tail.

"Stupid kit. It's rather simple. They are a proud species and they have beaten off all 'suggestions' of alliance and they loathe subservience. Like...oooh! They are a race as bloodthirsty as I am, as intelligent and clever as I, with the pride that comes with being on top of the food chain. And they are a race of carnivores. Do the math. I'm sure even a mortal as dense as you can think of something to say that will agree with them."

As Naruto grumbled about the 'damned evil fox', his mind started to churn with the advice his tenant gave him. He shuddered at the thought of a race of Kyuubis, which is what these Death Spectres basically are, except for a lack of magical power. At least he had an idea of how to come to an agreement. "You go as you will, and no one can stop you. You want meat. Lots of meat. I think we have something for you."

A shit-eating grin, almost as wide as the Death Spectres', erupted on Naruto's face. The kids shrank back from the evil grin. "Banthas. Herbivorous animals with a dim mind, but pack more meat than you can shake a stun baton at. In return for a steady supply of banthas, what will you offer us in exchange?"

CW:

The Death Spectres looked amongst each other for an idea as to what was being discussed, with chittering and clacking coming to a slight crescendo, topped off with several of them letting loose high-pitched mooing noises and one of them starting up an odd verse.

"MY HOTDOG HAS A FIRST NAME, ITS O-S-C-A-R..."

The entire collection hopped up and down with gleeful recognition, then stopped cold.

"PROTEIN?"

"PROTEIN!"

Now they started cheering amongst themselves, clapping their cloven forepaws together and chanting, all with their grins even wider and their eyes far more insane-looking than before...

"YUMYUMYUM!"

"YUM YUM!"

"YUM YUM YUM YUM YUM!"

"YUM?"

"YUMYUM!"

"WE CAN HAS CHEEZBURGER NOW?"

"YUM!"

Eventually the strange chanting died down, and the Razormaw locked its gaze on Naruto. Its metallic jaws clanged together like a sledgehammer impacting a bulkhead before it spoke of its own accord, generating instant silence throughout the clearing.

"ALWAYS ENEMY COMES TO TAKE. WE TAKE ENEMY IN TURN. NEVER HAD TRIBUTE OFFERED. YOU GIVE US THIS IMPORTANT THING. WHAT YOU WANT?"

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

Xiscapia:

The Death Spectres did not move, still curious about the fox-ish aliens.

"WHAT YOU WANT? WHAT YOU GIVE?"

CW:

The Death Spectres looked amongst each other for an idea as to what was being discussed, with chittering and clacking coming to a slight crescendo, topped off with several of them letting loose high-pitched mooing noises and one of them starting up an odd verse.

"MY HOTDOG HAS A FIRST NAME, ITS O-S-C-A-R..."

The entire collection hopped up and down with gleeful recognition, then stopped cold.

"PROTEIN?"

"PROTEIN!"

Now they started cheering amongst themselves, clapping their cloven forepaws together and chanting, all with their grins even wider and their eyes far more insane-looking than before...

"YUMYUMYUM!"

"YUM YUM!"

"YUM YUM YUM YUM YUM!"

"YUM?"

"YUMYUM!"

"WE CAN HAS CHEEZBURGER NOW?"

"YUM!"

Eventually the strange chanting died down, and the Razormaw locked its gaze on Naruto. Its metallic jaws clanged together like a sledgehammer impacting a bulkhead before it spoke of its own accord, generating instant silence throughout the clearing.

"ALWAYS ENEMY COMES TO TAKE. WE TAKE ENEMY IN TURN. NEVER HAD TRIBUTE OFFERED. YOU GIVE US THIS IMPORTANT THING. WHAT YOU WANT?"
"Well..." Naruto stroked his chin psuedo-sagely. "We are always in the market for new technologies. It wouldn't hurt to have some new toys for our people to play with."

The crewmen looked at each other in the cramped confines of the shuttle, then the 2nd Leiutenent muttered

'all this technology and we still have to be packed in here like z'rel. alright well open the com-paths to the holos, and get ready to fold-down the gift.'

to the death spectres

"we assumed you wanted us to land and hope we are not intruding upon your hospitality. we offer a gift as show of good faith and peaceful intentions."

to ship

'fold-down the gift'

at that moment a small crate with seemed to inflate infront of the holos.

to death spectres

"this crate contains 300,000,000 quim of organic flesh as fresh as if it were still alive, and compresed using our methods. you need only to touch the panel on the side to open it."

OOC: z'rel are small mouse-like animals which the Velarians pack and eat much like sardines

'fold-down' is the method by which the Velarians fold space/time in order to move items great distances (similar to 'beam-down' but there is not dematerialization of the item)

a quim is approxamately equal to 100 tons.

CW:

The Death Spectres looked amongst each other for an idea as to what was being discussed, with chittering and clacking coming to a slight crescendo, topped off with several of them letting loose high-pitched mooing noises and one of them starting up an odd verse.

"MY HOTDOG HAS A FIRST NAME, ITS O-S-C-A-R..."

The entire collection hopped up and down with gleeful recognition, then stopped cold.

"PROTEIN?"

"PROTEIN!"

Now they started cheering amongst themselves, clapping their cloven forepaws together and chanting, all with their grins even wider and their eyes far more insane-looking than before...

"YUMYUMYUM!"

"YUM YUM!"

"YUM YUM YUM YUM YUM!"

"YUM?"

"YUMYUM!"

"WE CAN HAS CHEEZBURGER NOW?"

"YUM!"

Eventually the strange chanting died down, and the Razormaw locked its gaze on Naruto. Its metallic jaws clanged together like a sledgehammer impacting a bulkhead before it spoke of its own accord, generating instant silence throughout the clearing.

"ALWAYS ENEMY COMES TO TAKE. WE TAKE ENEMY IN TURN. NEVER HAD TRIBUTE OFFERED. YOU GIVE US THIS IMPORTANT THING. WHAT YOU WANT?"

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

Xiscapia:

The Death Spectres did not move, still curious about the fox-ish aliens.

"WHAT YOU WANT? WHAT YOU GIVE?"
The Captan smiled. "What do we give?" he spread his arms wide. "What do you want? Hyperspace travel? Got it. Warships? Got 'em. Shields, nukes, anit-matter bombs? Full of them. Meat? We can easily get you that. Animals larger then this ship (he indicated the frigate) can be brought to you. What do we want? Part of the imperssive mass of technology you have aquired, and your word that you won't eat us. That's all we ask."

OOC: Gonna RP a smaller size for Guiding Fist's Gift, as an amount of meat that large is greater than the amount of organic material on Earth. Such could not be presented as a gift without severe economic difficulties.

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

CW:

The Razormaw clacked its teeth strangely, and shuffled its hindlegs in a curious manner. Not that many would understand it, this was their signal of 'Not Enough Data'.

"WHICH ONES?"

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

Xiscapia:

The Death Spectres mulled amongst each other, gleeful chittering punctuating a chorus of jackhammering and hopping. Eventually, it collapsed into a song of pleased hooting and the Razormaw turned back to the Captain.

"HAVE WEAPONS. HAVE SHIELDS. HAVE HYPERDRIVE... NOW. NEVER ENOUGH MEAT. MEAT MAKE US SMARTER. MEAT MAKE US STRONGER. EAT MEAT FOR POWER. MEAT GOOD.

"YOU MAKE COMMENT ABOUT RELEASING US AS WEAPON. WE WILL NOT BE LEASHED LIKE DOGS. NO POINT-AND-CLICK. ANGER US, BUT WE STILL NOT EAT YOU. LONG AS YOU NOT SHOOT AT US, WE NOT EAT YOU. LONG AS WE NOT HUNGRY, WE NOT EAT YOU."

Another one chimed in from the rear:

"RULES SUBJECT TO REVISION AT LATER DATE AS CIRCUMSTANCES WARRANT. SUBJECT TO CREDIT APPROVAL. VOID WHERE PROHIBITED. DRINK RESPONSIBLY. SIDE EFFECTS INCLUDE NAUSEA, DROWSINESS, HEADACHES, LYMPHOMA, MULTIPLE SCLEROSIS, SPONTANEOUS COMBUSTION, DEATH, HALITOSIS, INGROWN TOENAILS..."

The Razormaw thump-thumped its hind legs a couple times and continued.

"GIVE US MEAT, WE NOT GET HUNGRY. WE GET SMARTER. WE UPGRADE GUNS. ALWAYS UPGRADE GUNS. ALWAYS UPGRADE EVERYTHING. WE GIVE OLD STUFF. NOT ALL OLD STUFF. SOME. WHAT STUFF YOU WANT?"

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

Guiding Fist:

The parcel arrived with a puff of displaced air... and the sound of several dozen heavy assault weapons being brought to bear. The sudden appearance of the crate, though heralded by the holo-projection, still startled the Death Spectres greatly. High-pitched hums and other sounds promising potential devastation flooded the clearing as weapons of many types targeted the crate.

The most amazing thing of note was that these weapons emerged seemingly from nowhere. One moment they were unarmed, the next moment sufficient armament to defend a medium-sized fortress from attack by land/sea/air/space re-asserted that yes indeed... here, the Death Spectres ruled. Where the weapons actually came from was a true mystery, but by the nature of their response, and the nature by which they wielded such large weapons (one creature was holding a massive machine gun like an uzi, and had somehow sprouted a combat helmet and a mound of glowing ammunition... how did the machine gun not tip its small wielder over?), one could assume that they could wield objects several times their size with strength comparing favorably even to gene-enhanced humanoids. The nature of their jaw clacking would have been enough of a clue itself that these creatures were far stronger than they looked, but this moment was a clarion call.

A few tense seconds passed. The Razormaw cocked its body slightly, then made its own giant weapon vanish with what looked like a flick of its wrist. Such a swift movement... and there was no sign whatsoever of the gun's continued existence. It flicked its wrist again, and a long pointy stick appeared in its cloven paw. It hopped forward and poked the side of the crate.

The crate burst open and nearly buried the razormaw in mouse-meat. The Razormaw hopped back just in time, then dove into the pile just as it stopped growing (about 5 feet high and ten feet around). After another moment, its distended jaws emerged from the pile, just to clamp down again and vanish back... followed by the Death Spectre hopping back out, looking thoroughly gorged.

It burped. Then turned to the vessel that had apparently summoned the hologram and the crate both.

"YUM! DON'T DO AGAIN."

As it spoke, its expression changed from satisfaction to threatening.

"COULD HAVE BEEN BOMB."

The Death Spectres mulled amongst each other, gleeful chittering punctuating a chorus of jackhammering and hopping. Eventually, it collapsed into a song of pleased hooting and the Razormaw turned back to the Captain.

"HAVE WEAPONS. HAVE SHIELDS. HAVE HYPERDRIVE... NOW. NEVER ENOUGH MEAT. MEAT MAKE US SMARTER. MEAT MAKE US STRONGER. EAT MEAT FOR POWER. MEAT GOOD.

"YOU MAKE COMMENT ABOUT RELEASING US AS WEAPON. WE WILL NOT BE LEASHED LIKE DOGS. NO POINT-AND-CLICK. ANGER US, BUT WE STILL NOT EAT YOU. LONG AS YOU NOT SHOOT AT US, WE NOT EAT YOU. LONG AS WE NOT HUNGRY, WE NOT EAT YOU."

Another one chimed in from the rear:

"RULES SUBJECT TO REVISION AT LATER DATE AS CIRCUMSTANCES WARRANT. SUBJECT TO CREDIT APPROVAL. VOID WHERE PROHIBITED. DRINK RESPONSIBLY. SIDE EFFECTS INCLUDE NAUSEA, DROWSINESS, HEADACHES, LYMPHOMA, MULTIPLE SCLEROSIS, SPONTANEOUS COMBUSTION, DEATH, HALITOSIS, INGROWN TOENAILS..."

The Razormaw thump-thumped its hind legs a couple times and continued.

"GIVE US MEAT, WE NOT GET HUNGRY. WE GET SMARTER. WE UPGRADE GUNS. ALWAYS UPGRADE GUNS. ALWAYS UPGRADE EVERYTHING. WE GIVE OLD STUFF. NOT ALL OLD STUFF. SOME. WHAT STUFF YOU WANT?"

The Captain nodded. "We'll take anything to imporove our ships. Increased hyperdrive, better weapons, stronger shields. Whatever you think is suitable for our ships." He bowed. "You are most generious. Several cargo ships full of meat are on en route now."

Xiscapia...
Several cargo ships, having been called soon after the frigate landed, lifted off and flew to the coordinates, their holds full of meat.

Guiding Fist:

The parcel arrived with a puff of displaced air... and the sound of several dozen heavy assault weapons being brought to bear. The sudden appearance of the crate, though heralded by the holo-projection, still startled the Death Spectres greatly. High-pitched hums and other sounds promising potential devastation flooded the clearing as weapons of many types targeted the crate.

The most amazing thing of note was that these weapons emerged seemingly from nowhere. One moment they were unarmed, the next moment sufficient armament to defend a medium-sized fortress from attack by land/sea/air/space re-asserted that yes indeed... here, the Death Spectres ruled. Where the weapons actually came from was a true mystery, but by the nature of their response, and the nature by which they wielded such large weapons (one creature was holding a massive machine gun like an uzi, and had somehow sprouted a combat helmet and a mound of glowing ammunition... how did the machine gun not tip its small wielder over?), one could assume that they could wield objects several times their size with strength comparing favorably even to gene-enhanced humanoids. The nature of their jaw clacking would have been enough of a clue itself that these creatures were far stronger than they looked, but this moment was a clarion call.

A few tense seconds passed. The Razormaw cocked its body slightly, then made its own giant weapon vanish with what looked like a flick of its wrist. Such a swift movement... and there was no sign whatsoever of the gun's continued existence. It flicked its wrist again, and a long pointy stick appeared in its cloven paw. It hopped forward and poked the side of the crate.

The crate burst open and nearly buried the razormaw in mouse-meat. The Razormaw hopped back just in time, then dove into the pile just as it stopped growing (about 5 feet high and ten feet around). After another moment, its distended jaws emerged from the pile, just to clamp down again and vanish back... followed by the Death Spectre hopping back out, looking thoroughly gorged.

It burped. Then turned to the vessel that had apparently summoned the hologram and the crate both.

"YUM! DON'T DO AGAIN."

As it spoke, its expression changed from satisfaction to threatening.

"COULD HAVE BEEN BOMB."

OOC: it would not cause any economic difficulties, as Velas is much larger than earth, the Velarians control a great many worlds, their method of raising food creatures is infinitly more efficient than anything now, short point I would not have put an amount that would damage the economy of my people.

"We appologize for the surprise, but as we said before we wish to keep peace between us. Furthermore our weapons cannot be sent in the same fasion, it is a safety precaution in the unlikely event that another culture were to gain access to our technology. In Velarian Empire negotiations it is customary for the visiting party to present a gift to the native people, that was all the organic flesh we had on board our vessel, we hope it shows our good intentions. We wish to open trade between our people, can we proceed with the negotiations?"

OOC: No, what he is getting at is, no matter how many planets you claim, you are an 07 nation, meaning you can only support so much stuff and quite frankly, to have enough planets for this and say you own them is godmodding. You see there is a thing called logistics, and also, I highly doubt that your ship just randomly carries billions of tons of meat around.

You see, theres a thing called reality, which we tend to apply to our rps now and again, as well as rules such as new nations cannot support large armies, or do things their economies cannot possibly be able to handle. This is one of them.

CW:

The Razormaw clacked its teeth strangely, and shuffled its hindlegs in a curious manner. Not that many would understand it, this was their signal of 'Not Enough Data'.

"WHICH ONES?"
Naruto scratched his head, wondering what the Coredians could get for their trouble when a beep occurred, his comlink. "Hold on a minute. Naruto speaking."

"Sir, there's a whole database of weapons that we've never encountered before up there. We tried to sort them out based on what they do, but we've only managed to scratch the surface. Sending a list and basic schematic to you now."

"All right." Naruto then pulled out a datapad, revealing the numerous weapons procured by the Death Spectres. He whistled lowly. "Geez...there's so many. Ooh. I like this one. Maybe that one. Nah, we have something like that already. Ooh, this looks good. Hmm..."

It went on for a good while until he narrowed it down to several weapons that could be of use to the Coredians, the others being familiar to the point of redundancy to them or just too exotic to grab without a closer look. "We would like these weapons. In return, we will give you a steady supply of banthas and teach you how to breed them."

Naruto gave the schematics of the weapons to the Razormaw. Several shield-disruptor types, several different versions of plasma cannons ("The Dragons will love those." Ryujin said) more advanced than the Dragons' own, several molecular disruptor types for Vector R&D's ship weapons research, lascannons, meltacannons and Nova cannons ("Hah! Chronosia's going to freak when their own weapons get shot back at them!" Asuka grinned), and several "cutter" type beam weapons for research into refining Coredian beamlaser technology.

OOC: on my first post on this page i misstyped the amount for quim, it is supposed to be 1 ton. this is possible through advance replication technology (similar to cloneing).

Xiscapia:

The Razormaw suddenly broke into an agitated dance, accompanied by a series of annoyed clacks. A strange quirk of Destructor culture lay in the understanding that while they knew full well the concepts of making war and death, they also seemed to have a remarkable grasp of contract law...

"SOME OLD STUFF. NOT ALL. NOT YET. TELL US EXACT THINGS. NEED KNOW WHAT LOOK FOR IF YOU WANT FIND IT. WE NOT LOOK FOR YOU."

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

The Guiding Fist:

At the moment, the Razormaw was prancing about on the pile of meat, lobbing cloven paw-fulls into the eagerly screeching crowd. As they ate, they took on a wholly new demeanor, with the screeching swiftly giving way to a near silent quivering as each Death Spectre began to recite strange phrases and utterances to itself.

The Razormaw turned, quivering as well, to level a bloodshot glare at the shuttle... though even more disconcerting were the words that came from its terrifying jaws. It'd almost gone... civilized.

"Mayhap, oh visitors from beyond."

Each word was punctuated with a light clack of its teeth, almost like the occasional whistle from some humanoid speech patterns... but somewhat more intimidating.

"We have known of enemies that would transport munitions upon us in the past, set to detonate on termination of transitory procedures. They died, just like the rest. One enemy afterward learned rather swiftly, and ineffectually, that powering down one's shields to facilitate increased firepower against our guns leads to a rather grisly side-effect.

"You will find that we do not require much from those who travel amidst the stars, for most of what we needed in the past was provided by foolish would-be conquerors. We have many secrets of these ancient invaders, and have expanded upon the supposed limits of such technologies through the use of our own innovative trances.

"Protein inspires in us an inventive zeal. We know of chemicals that have instilled similar effects in humanoid races such as yourself, but for us, simple meats and proteins facilitate an otherwise rare and precious state. You will find us willing to deal in elder technologies that we have taken in the past, though we are not amenable to provision of our updated iterations of these necessities.

"We will take these meats, and in return you simply need name something you would like in return."

In the background, something shrieked "42!" and recieved an answering call of "Six by nine is forty-two? Always knew there was something wrong with the whole thing..."

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

Coreworlds:

The response came rather swiftly.

"NOT ALL. NOT ALL AT ONCE. CHOOSE TWO FOR FIRST TRADE."

The Captain thought and poundered this for a while. So many weapons, so many choices. The Comm officer was grinning like a lunatic. The Captain finally spoke. "Nova Cannons, any pocket universes, and Sniper Cannons. That will due for now."

Coreworlds:

The response came rather swiftly.

"NOT ALL. NOT ALL AT ONCE. CHOOSE TWO FOR FIRST TRADE."
Naruto groaned. "Aww. Very well."

As he picked the Eldar plasma cannon and a molecular disruptor, he took a look at the kids, wondering if they're scared anymore.

"Is sensei finished yet?" Shinji asked, sitting cross-legged and playing cards with his friends.

"Not yet, it seems." Haruka said seeing Naruto haggling with the Death Spectres. He slapped down a card. "Go fish."

Naruto could only sweatdrop.