NationStates Jolt Archive

“The rain was coming down harder, and the once quiet pitter-patter of raindrops had turned into a roaring hiss as the sounds of individual drops hitting the pavement merged into what I was hearing. Faster and faster I ran, knowing good and well where fate was taking me, but hoping that maybe, just maybe, fate had a loophole. More specifically, a loophole I could exploit. Quite profound, really - I had never been one to believe in a higher power, and yet, here I was almost praying to one.

“I continued to run, ignoring the cramps in my leg and the pain that was so predominating in my side. I had to keep moving. If I were to stop now, my life would surely end. Behind me, the hard, quick footsteps were coming closer. I knew without looking or thinking about it that my would-be assailants were not as far behind as I had hoped. With my window of opportunity quickly being closed, I activated my adrenal control implant. I had precious little of the hormone left (I had already used most of it attempting to escape the first group of assailants), but I had enough to get myself out of this particular predicament. Once I had activated it, the familiar feeling of ice water being poured over every muscle I possessed returned, followed by the intense heat that faded into dull warmth. The cramps and pains disappeared and I began to pick up speed once more. The echoing sounds of my assailants’ feet impacting the soaked ground faded away. Surely there was enough distance between them and I. There had to have been.

“Suddenly, a loud bang echoed through the air, and a sharp, stabbing pain spread through my back like a network of vines. One of them had fired their weapon. I attempted to push through the pain, but to no avail, and I fell onto the asphalt. The attackers loomed above me. Their faces were concealed by reflective visors, and they wore what looked to be a sophisticated armor system not unlike what is normally issued to the marines. Through faded vision and weakening ears, I heard them speak horribly of my kind, and one of them said something about how they were one step closer. What they were one step closer to, though, was beyond my knowledge. Slowly, my eyesight faded, my hearing faded, and I began to go numb. Death was immine –”



The screen flashed to a blank screen for a moment, and then the computer’s interface replaced it. The computer’s operator was Staff Sergeant Darren Hane of the Unified Government’s Marine Corps. He gave a heavy, bored, and slightly irritated sigh before climbing out of the terminal’s seat and walking over to a table to pour him a cup of coffee. Of all the things he would rather be doing, examining the brain of a dead cybernet unit was not among them. The only real significance he could find was that this was just one of the many reports of murdered cybernet units in the recent weeks, but other than that, it was just another murder victim. After all, they were a dime a dozen in large cities such as Kasou. As far as he was concerned, there were more important things for a marine to be focused on; the most predominate of these being the rebellious outer colonies. But what does he know? After all, he was but a lowly Staff Sergeant, and unless he was a part of The Ring, no one would really listen to him. So, he kept his thoughts to himself as he encoded a blank data slip with what he had found and shut down the terminal.

A quick, two minute walk was all it took to bring Sergeant Hane from Terminal Station C to the Court Martial Chambers, unofficially known as “The Lair,” where he would be presenting his case. To his dismay, The Lair doubled as The Ring’s front desk, though he would never hint at that as it could get him expelled from the marines.

The Ring was composed of ten of the highest ranking officers, two from each branch of the military. They were a fickle group, and very arrogant to boot. They seemed to enjoy nothing more than to cut down the accomplishments of the standing military and then take credit for it. Corrupt as they were, though, they did their job of keeping everyone and everything in line, and Sergeant Hane couldn’t do anything less than offer his thanks for that. Hane had one more thing against The Ring that others didn’t have, though. Sergeant Hane had been…involved with the cybernet program since its birth, and since then The Ring had been on his ass nonstop. Most of them were elderly, and none of them see the point in enhancing the human body, something they already considered to be the ultimate weapon if trained properly. However, there was nothing they could do about it as the entire program was started at the will of Governor Williams, so as far as the Staff Sergeant was concerned, they could kiss his ass.

A few feet from the door to The Lair’s front door, all that stood between him and verbal abuse from men in their 70s and 80s was a meter thick slab of Titanium-B alloy. He gave a deep sigh as he performed the numerous scans needed to confirm that he really was, indeed, Staff Sergeant Darren Hane, and the slab opened. A dull grunt sounded inside his throat, and he stepped in.

Once inside, Sergeant Hane took his seat on the left side of the room where the prosecutor was to present his evidence. On the far right, in the Defendant’s seat, Lieutenant David Hoff sat, bearing a grim look on his face that only further defined his premature wrinkles. Directly in front of them, raised up above the two men, was The Ring, and in the very center was 5-Star General of the Vanguard, Robert Niles. The two men involved in the case snapped to attention and saluted. General Niles rose to his feet and saluted. “At ease, gentlemen,” he said with a stern face, and the two men seated themselves.

General Niles sat in his seat and adjusted his glasses to get a better look at the stack of papers he was holding. He cleared his throat and began to speak. “We are here today to determine the course of action taken for the murder of cybernet unit JH3-487 ‘Felicia Alison Graham’ who was murdered on October 5, 2340. The defendant will now present his evidence.”

Lieutenant Hoff stood and cleared his throat, and then walked over to General Niles’ seat. He carried with them a stack of papers which he presented to The Ring. “I took the liberty of fetching the records of my activities last night. As you can see, I only issued four orders to my men, and all of them were orders to be stationed at a different post. The only way my men could have killed the cybernet is if she had performed a crime.” He glared at Sergeant Hane, and then walked back to his seat. General Niles read the papers for a moment, and then he spoke. “The prosecutor will now present his evidence.” Sergeant Hane removed the data slip from his pocket and handed it to General Niles, who then slipped it into a terminal. The data slip’s encrypted video played on a large screen behind General Niles. The video ended with the cybernet dying at the feet of what looked to be (much to Lieutenant Hoff’s dismay) honest-to-god marines. Hane continued with some dialogue…

“As you can see General, the cybernetic eye implants that Felicia possessed recorded most of the scenes of the incident at the point when a crime was committed. Also, I have a detailed report of organ regulation implants that where in use or had been used during the entire incident. The list was as follows:


Cybernetic records system report: unit JH3-487 ‘Felicia Alison Graham’
Cardio-regulation Implant: High use
Adrenal Gland Stimulant: Used 2 times in rapid succession/ Possible threat in pursuit.
Cybernetic Optical Enhancements: Standard use/ Recorded time- 1 hour 2 mins.


“Why would a criminal cybernetic citizen record, the images they seeing if they where committing a crime, it would be simple to court order the footage. This action could only be used for one thing: identifying the attackers. And since your Guards are under your command and did not report finding anybodies in the area you where assigned to guard can only lead us to believe that you either are covering for the guards actions, or you ordered the attack.”

Lieutenant Hoff stood up from his seat and declared his objection to the allegations being given by Hane.

“General, Hane is obviously trying to make a case where one is not located. I motion for this trial to be dismissed, under the pretense of the lack of solid evidence.”

The General looked at Hoff as he took his seat and nodded and agreed to dismiss. Hane was outraged, and objected.

“Your Honor, the prosecution has more information to help provide a solid case against Lieutenant Hoff, I urge…” he was cut off by the brash voice of the General

“The Case is dismissed Sergeant Hane… Gather your resources and try again.”

The feeling of anger, hate, and the lingering feeling of bribery was something Hane couldn’t shake. Still, he held his tongue: The Ring had the resources and authority to make it appear as if Hane where never born, and personally, Hane liked existing, and planned to continue existing.

The people of Skismire had become well knowing of Seradin as a safe haven for those who had cybernetic implants. Many of Skismirian nationals visited the area because of its natural setting that made it a wonderful place to begin a life free of persecution, but in light of the recent murder trial gone wrong the people in the area who had cybernetic implants took to the streets in protest of the trial.

Many signs read things like :

" Cybernetic murder is still murder!"

The people had begun to stir. Civil rights groups sprung up like daises and the cybernetic people began to hold rallies and functions to help get the word out about how human cybernetic people where. The showing of Cybernetic murder sites and x-rays of cybernets who where still atleast 75% human and others who where 100% cybernetic. Some people became cybernetic because they wished it , others did it to survive an illness that was incurable. Men, Women, and children all who where cybernetic began to speak out.

The people of Daressalaam had become well knowing of Seradin as a safe haven for those who had cybernetic implants. Many of daressalaam:fluffle:ian nationals visited the area because of its natural setting that made it a wonderful place to begin a life free of persecution, but in light of the recent murder trial gone wrong the people in the area who had cybernetic implants took to the streets in protest of the trial.

Many signs read things like :

" Cybernetic murder is still murder!"

The people had begun to stir. Civil rights groups sprung up like daises and the cybernetic people began to hold rallies and functions to help get the word out about how human cybernetic people where. The showing of Cybernetic murder sites and x-rays of cybernets who where still atleast 75% human and others who where 100% cybernetic. Some people became cybernetic because they wished it , others did it to survive an illness that was incurable. Men, Women, and children all who where cybernetic began to speak out.

OOC: Daressalaam, if you're going to post, try to write them yourself rather than copy and paste someone else's. Honestly, what the hell were you thinking?

IC:

It had been several days since Sergeant Hane’s case was shot down by the oh-so-corrupt Ring, and since then, all of Seradin it seems had been thrown into chaos. Protests and riots, even small revolutions, were widespread as cybernets and cybernet activists filled the streets carrying signs declaring their opinions. Naturally, anything having to do with cybernets landed squarely in Hane’s lap. After all, cybernets were his area of expertise according to The Ring.

He awoke early one morning to the combined racket of both his alarm clock and his PDA’s phone. One on its own would have been irritating enough, but together, they propelled annoyance to a new, unexplored level, at least it was according to his ears. Grudgingly, he dragged his lazy carcass out of his cot-bed hybrid and answered the ever loud phone.

“Staff Sergeant Darren Hane, Cybernet Department.” There was a momentary pause that Hane didn’t seem to pay attention to. In fact, he didn’t even pay attention to what the other person said until he heard the words “I need you to come down to the office.” At that, despite not listening, he agreed and hung up the phone. For a few minutes afterwards while he got dressed and found some old Chinese food in his fridge, he marveled at how much of a jerk he really was. It took him all of the next five seconds to accept this, and he was on his way within a few minutes.

The quarters where he had lived had been christened “The Pit,” and for good reason. In retrospect, it was nothing more than a four million cubic foot block of Titanium buried two kilometers underground that had been hollowed out to create rooms. At any given moment, you were surrounded by twelve meters of solid metal. In Hane’s eyes, this made the Hole feel more like a prison than living quarters, almost as if the Ring wanted to keep the marines isolated from the rest of the world.

Varlenthane Naserizé watched from the tertiary observation deck of the Indiastani cruiser Benazier, currently ‘on loan’ as it were, as the C’tan’s own forces were busily engaged elsewhere. Like those whose murders had been flagged for his attention, Varlenthane was modified beyond the human baseline, not just cybernetically, though he had just under twenty identifiable cybernetic systems, ranging from drug glands to a mind-state monitor unit, to a suite of devices designed to stymie mental prying. Of course, it wasn’t just mechanical enhancements. He would have lived far longer and healthier than the ‘baseline’ human could possibly have managed even with an optimal lifestyle, if those devices were not present, and he would also have said that he was culturally superior; naturally, most societies thought of themselves, if not as the pinnacle of culture, then on the top tier.

The C’tan were no exception, and Varlenthane was part of what could, at best, be called an Altruistic Paramilitary organisation, that went, at times, by the title of ‘The Venturers’ and would be called, by those who were familiar with them and ‘in their sights’ as it were ‘a shower of interfering terrorist bastards.’

He’d come here to get, if nothing else, a direct look at the place for himself. A ten-sided object, about the size and shape of a ten sided die, hovered by his side, projecting a screen of information onto the window. There wasn’t a terribly large amount of information about Seradin on record, and even less about quite what ways its government worked in.

None of it was very reassuring. The Ventuerers had, above and beyond the general ‘factbook’ data, dispatched a level seventeen (consisting of 2¹⁷ - one hundred and thirty one thousand) Survey of scout missiles, each about a centimetre in length, and four millimetres at its widest point, to Seradin. These weren’t likely to register as a threat. Beyond being smaller than most bullets, the scout missiles were negligible to radar; far too small, and even then, programmed to fly a little erratically, and extremely low reflectivity, coloured a blue-grey, able to rotate to present, to a viewer from the ground, a colour match for most sky conditions. They were semi-gravitational, in that while they could hover without visible means of support, they were actually propelled by tiny gossamer-turbine motor inside them, generating thrust a little greater than that of most insects; and this was what they would read as, thermally; bees, or wasps, capable of travelling at just over twenty miles per hour.

The scout missiles were made of, quite frankly, primitive materials. Aluminium, bronze, organic-plastics, chemical batteries - there were only a few parts of them that were at all advanced, those being the delicate gravitic motors engines, a tiny, one millimetre wide torus fusion reactor (it and its support systems accounted for the most mass; it sucked air from a run-off of the turbines, and broke this down into hydrogen and oxygen, then fused the hydrogen to helium; this also provided the self-destruct mechanism of the earth-friendly scout missile, which could immolate its insides in a hydrogen-oxygen explosion, leaving only a casing of aluminium and some burnt plastics and run-of-the-mill acids to show for their existence) that gave out most of its heat as well as its energy, and the communications ansible.

They were of course, equipped with optics, and they transmitted using a ‘modified’ quantum entanglement device (not terribly reliable, this ansible, but it didn’t give out radio waves) to a ‘beehive’ device, not unlike the military standard scarab-hives, that produced larger and more formidable drones. Each of these ‘hives’ was linked into the intelligence of a Venturer-AI, which built up and flagged notable trends that it could discern regarding the social conditions in the country. They were also equipped to detect radar-pulses; anything from a speed-camera to a fighter jet would be noticed that way, and either avoided or investigated; once it detected such, it would either land somewhere convenient – there was a slight nub on the side of each scout missile to allow it to land without rolling – or adopt an insect-like flight path.

Varlenthane, as the agent ‘in the field’ or rather, at the moment, high above it, would be the one to receive the précis of these helpful little bee-brained first-line spies. Their mission, at the moment, was to see how the ‘common person’ lived, and observe the prevalence of cybernetically altered members of the population. For now, they were programmed to wander the streets, and if possible, public places of relaxation, clubs, retauraunts, and bars, listening, watching. They wouldn't enter homes, or workplaces that were closed to the public, there were very strong and solid limits to what the Venturers would do without a very good reason, they did, as a rule, believe in privacy.

OOC: As it says 'open to all.' If you would preffer only near-future-tech, I'll delete this post.

OOC: As it says 'open to all.' If you would preffer only near-future-tech, I'll delete this post.


OOC: No, it's perfectly fine. I don't see a problem with melding NFT and FT into the same RP. (I've seen a few that have gone in this direction, and I find them to be intriguing...)

OOC: Very good. You are being watched, then!

ooc may i send a few of my cybernetic troops soldier part man part machine


ic a pryoclasm class fast attack ship exited warp the twelve man soldier combat team be gan to stir the lead one said what is our mission

the polit said go down thier and find any fellow cybborgs to assist