NationStates Jolt Archive

http://img71.imageshack.us/img71/5849/necronxw2.png

For lo, we are the Necrontyr, fear and bane of the Galaxy, the destroyers of worlds, servants of the star gods. Our numbers are legion. Our name is death. By our blades, worlds have perished. By our weapons, civilizations and entire races have died. For there are many names of worlds you can not pronounce, nor do you even know they existed – for they have met with the Necrontyr.

But though our ways are the ways of death, our God is a wise and all-foreseeing God, and He chooses a path for His people that does not lead every day to war, nor every night to the slaughter. And we offer you that which no necrontyr has offered before:

The knowledge of our ancient ways, our technology – indeed, we will teach you the secrets of our armor and weapons. But a heavy price will come with that.

Those of you with the grand alliances, the grand fleets, the technologies and wisdom – send out a message to us, and we will send an envoy to you, to discuss this price.

Those who can best meet our demands will receive our wisdom and our… assistance.

OOC: So basically I'm whoring myself out to large alliances and powerful nations.

A great machine upon the planetoid ‘Inertius Prime’ was one of the chief agents of C’tan intelligence. It longed to know all things, and it considered this to be of a maximum priority. So maximum that it re-routed one of the Engagement Forces from the orbit of Duat towards the origin of this strange signal. So maximum that none other than the Shicaraissatel – Cala Drian, led that force, the great tombship that was generally identified as the flagship, as it was also the personal craft of Ranisath himself.

It took mere moments for the thirty four great ships to transit the galaxy to the source of the signal. A few seconds before that for them to prepare themselves.

It sent a signal, not by any mere conventional faster than light communications method, but by one exclusive to the agents of the C’tan. The technologies and knowledge of the necrontyr is not to be simply sold to whomever can meet some petty barging price. This would be intolerable to us. If however, you have needs, then subject to certain limitations, it would be intolerable for us to ignore them.

WH40K = awesome

The signal is traced to an ancient hulk, so rotten and rusted the civilization it belonged to 'back in the day' is no longer identifiable. Deep within the ship there is an automated transmitter. It is connected with a network of transponders strewn about in various locations, with at least a dozen redundant transponders, and a variety of means to hide the actual source – a tomb world deep within the uncivilized reaches of space, orbiting a long-dead sun.

And yet a reply comes.

Very well. Where can your emissary meet with us?

OOC: Hey C'Tan, Chronos some competetion is here...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

http://www.atddm.com/tanone.jpg

A Joint repsonse

From the Hand of the Emperess'
Dominique Evangaline Alexandra Ryder;
& the Desk of the Archon
Robert Ryan Fortier~ Hexx;

Thank you kindly for the offer. However we are satisfied with our militaries and cutures such as they are.
However best of luck.

http://www.atddm.com/names1.gif

No emissary should be required, I am here, and shall go wherever you wish to deal with this matter was the simple reply, as the ships moved into roughly equidistant positions around the derelict, their intentions being to intercept and monitor any reply signals received. Not necessarily scramble, but to have that option should a need develop.

OOC: Huh. That's not a very flattering way to describe me... Bad Tanara! Bad!

"Goddamn it!" – shouted Reijiro Techno as he looked at the message transcript in front of him – "And he is on vacation at such a time! Fuck! Holy motherfucking fuck! What the fuck does he thing he's doing! Get me the President pro-tempore on the phone! NOW! Get the Fieldmarshan on the Milnet! Get… fuck! We must send out a reply now, or someone else will snatch it away from us! Goddamn motherfuckers! Fuck! Couldn't they have done it a month ago? "

He did not of course know he was already late, and so, within fifteen minutes he was on the phone with the man who was appointed by Congress to run Allanea's executive in absence of the lawful President for Life.

The message sent was telegraphically short.

"Come. Name your price. We will pay."

OOC: My humblest apologies to the most magnificant CTan. *Swirl of star silk, soft perfume and the lightest kiss upon your cheek*
"Of course no nation can begin to compete with your awesomness."

OOC: I'm reminded to see about doing something with Tanara now that I've actually time to post once again.

The response of the necrons was swift. No response message was sent to either of the 'bidders' so far – instead, two Dirge Raiders materialized in two separate locations. One – among the necrontyr ships, between them and the space hulk, and the other, in low orbit above Allanea.

Each broadcasted an identical message:

I will now send over my emissary.

And so two regular-looking Necron Lords were teleported – one to the surface in Allanea, the other, to one of the C'tan ships.

And each said an identical phrase.

Take me to your representatives, and I will deal with them.

The interior of the necron flagship was substantially different from what one would expect. Its wide corridors and rooms were lit by strong, though soft, light, and white and blues were dominant colours in large areas of it, as well as the sea-green of living metal. False windows gave the impression of looking out upon the stars, and wide doors of bronze and silver, engraved with high necrontyr writings; this was surely the first foreign visitor who would be able to read the long, eloquent speeches exemplified therein regarding the rights of all creatures and the founding principles of the nation. The largest set of these doors swung open to reveal a vast chamber with another ‘window’ dominating one wall, its view of space grandiose and impressive. A radiant humanoid figure waited within, turning slightly, its face not visible in more than the abstract due to the light that shone through it, giving its forma silver sheen, “I am the leader here,” it said, in necrontyr, “You may deal with me. Tell me, what do you want?”

The Allanean President pro-tempore was not a very charismatic man. He was sitting in the office of the President of the United States, clearly overwhelmed by the importance of his duty. Still, Benedict Stinson was looking at the necron without particular fear.

Behind him, a portrait of the Queen of Allanea (the woman who was, among other things, 'Allanea's second-best President') adorned the wall. It was not likely she would have approved of Stinson's moustache, his Hawaiian shirt, or the guilded skull of a Federation soldier he was using as an overly-expensive ashtray.

He leaned forward towards the necron lord.

“So, how may Allanea assist you?”

OOC: Just assume my respective necron lords are giving out the same requests on both locations, okay? It's worked fine so far.

IC:

“You know of course the history of our race. You know of the necrontyr, and of how they became the necrons. I will tell you now that our Lord searches to reverse this change. We need your assistance in this – we need any medical and biological technology you possess, to give our people new bodies, in which they can enjoy life to its fullest while sill not fearing death, and a planet on which they can live when they receive those bodies.”

“We wish for you to assist us to become members of a major alliance, so that we may remain protected from our foes, and to give us your own military protection.”

“Anything else you may want to add to that will ensure that you, and not others, will be chosen.”

[Allanea]

“If you are chosen, we will shower you in our weapons, and ships, and technology. Surely you would want to have necrons as your allies.”

[The C'tan]

“If you are chosen, we will not share our technology with outsiders. Surely you wish to prevent that.”

The figure waved a hand, “You now have knowledge of the mind-transfer process and forced flesh assembly you need, and the location of the nearest uninhabited inhabitable world in our catalogue, though not of course, a terribly good one, has also been added. There is little more we can offer you so readily, and I reject the notion of paying for your silence, to do so would create an unlimited ability for you to demand payment; if you think it is seriously beneficial to you to give such information away, I shall not stop you.”

The Allanean began to laugh loudly.

“You think I am out of my mind? I have seen entire nations lose their sovereignty, in fact or in law, because they received drives and ships from the necrons that later turned out not to answer to their control. And as for necron allies – we had necron allies, and we left our alliance with them on our own. From this you can judge that necron allies are not so valuable to us that we would pay anything to have some."

"Further, we have no need for your entire technology base. Instruct us in how your starship armor is made, and how your teleportation process works. In exchange, we will share with you our medical technologies, and aid you in joining one of the major alliances. Will that suffice?”

OOC: I played a Necron player the other day, bloody irritating resurrection orb, plus teleporting immortals with a Lord is just over the top:p

Also, hope you know Necron ships don't use light travel, they have these things called 'inertia-less drives' which means they can travel at any speed they want without going into the Warp, just so you know...

Far off, in Dominion space, the wayward subspace transmission found itself in the vast virtual network of the Communications Wing of Starbase Waypoint. The transmission was immediately encrypted and sent to the Dominion starship nearest the transmission, apprising them of this first contact situation.

That vessel happened to be the the Falcon class ship of the line (http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y90/DominionofRS/FalconclassSotL.jpg) Archangel. Within the confines of this massive, kilometers-long vessel, was Admiral Gerard DuGalle. The ship was called out into that region of space to resolve a rebellion on one of the mining outposts.

"This," he said, lowering himself into the ergonomic command chair, "is why we have machines for this work. You would think that our mining corporations would have realized that by now..."

His First Officer, Captain John Kryllic, was used to these lectures about the way things OUGHT to be.

"Yes Admiral, it was a critical oversight on their part. Those conditions combined with the low wages they get, it's no small wonder that they rebelled against their foreman."

"Indeed, it's a sad state of affairs-" he was interrupted by a small chime coming from a console on the arm of his chair.

A small, transparent female form that had a blue tinge about her coalesced onto what looked like a small coaster. She turned to the Admiral, and showed him a 'note' in her hand,

"Sorry to bother you boss, but Fleet Com's just issued us new orders. We're making a first contact; here's the particualrs."

The piece of holographic paper vanished from her hand and DuGalle's personal pad came to life as the information downloaded itself. He picked up, and as he scrutinized the data and the copy of the original transmission, his face contorted into an expression of utter distate.

"Necrons? Why are we bothering with Necrons?!?!? We're far too good for their kind. And look, they even claim to be more advanced than our glorious Dominion!"

He laughed before continuing, "Why, we may not be on the level of granduer that we were when we controlled an entire galaxy, but even after civil war and our impromptu exodus, we are still one of the most potent entities in this immediate region of the universe!"

Kryllic cut in, "Are we going or not sir?"

With a dramatic sigh and an attitude that reeked of Old Dominion, DuGalle gestured, almost dismissively, to the helmsman, "Power up the wormhole generator and take us in. You have the coordinates, Leiutenant."

As a hum began to vibrate through the deckplates, the Admiral then nodded to the Communications Officer, "Open a channel to these...Necrons."

There was a chime before he continued, "To the Necrons making contact with us, this is Admiral Gerard DuGalle, Commander of the Fifth Fleet of the Dominion Grand Navy," he refused to use the new term 'Dominion Starfleet', "We are responding to your transmission and are en route however, we believe that may have much more to offer you than you do us. Either way, I'm sure this visit will be...beneficial to our races. Our ETA is roughly half an hour."

He closed the channel and scoffed one final time as the Archangel slid into the now full-sized roiling mass of red energy in front of it. Once it completely passed the event horizon, the distortion closed and not a trace of the ship or the wormhole could be detected.

[Allanea]

The Necron Lord paused for a moment, then spoke. “Minutes ago, we have already received all the necessary medical technologies from a... benefactor. You must improve your bid now... human.”

[Ruthless Slaughter/C'tan]

"I do not think it will work out well, not well at all.” - the necron lord mused. - “Look now, a new ship arrives at the scene. We will dispatch another messenger, just like me, to them. Another deal of ours has just now... almost fallen through. Tell me, will you attack us if we choose to share our knowledge with these newcomers?”

Even as he spoke, another necron was being teleported to the Dominon vessel. He made to them a new offer.

"We offer you this, newcomers. We will share our technologies with the one race that offers us the most benefits. We want membership in a big alliance, and any weapons, territories, and perks you might want to throw in. We will reward you with our friendships, with necron ships, weapons, and knowledge. Place your bid.”

“You think I am out of my mind? I have seen entire nations lose their sovereignty, in fact or in law, because they received drives and ships from the necrons that later turned out not to answer to their control.

OOC: Unless you're referencing a necron player who isn't me, I can only assume this character is meant to be highly ignorant. Such a thing has never happened. There's all of three nations I've given my drive technology to, one of them was annexed before that happened, another retains a fully independant status, and the other is not only a sovreign state, but has very substantial influence over my own policies.

Not once has my technology 'later turned out not to answer to their control' because that is something you can only do once before everyone's aware of the risks involved. Therefore, my stuff works exactly as advertised.

Of course, I suppose you could mean Thelas the nation that later actually acted against me on several occasions, but that would be disturbingly ignorant. Not only did that never happen, though I did turn some systems off on one occasion, they were clearly informed that capability was there beforehand. And that most certainly wasn't technology 'from the necrons' anyway.

IC:

The figure waved a hand, "Our part is done," it said, "you may return to your vessel."

OOC: OOCly, I did mean Thelas. I also did mean the character to be highly ignorant, so it all works out.

Anyhow.

IC:

The Allanean laughed once more. "Who do you think are? Your civilization is not so advanced, nor is your culture so great that Allaneans would grovel and beg for your knowledge."

"It is true that I have asked you to name your price, and that I have said that I would pay it. And yet you now ask for me to bid planets, systems, my very dignity, for what? For stuff I don't really need? I only need your starship armor, and it seems I've got nothing you want to trade for it. And I'm not going to beg. "

"The dignity of the Allanean people is not for sale, necron."

"Go get in a threesome with Slaanesh and your star-god and stop defiling the President's room with your presence."

The Archangel emerged from the wormhole and promptly recieved the message. Aboard the bridge, Admiral DuGalle was in top form,

"They want us to do what?!?!?" he exclaimed, with an exaggerated flinch, "HAH! Who do they think they are, touting themselves as our superiors? Were this the Old Dominion, we would have seized their territory and destabilized their worlds with the Saving Grace and Hell Hath No Fury simply as a matter of principle! Alas, democracy can be such a hindrance sometimes...

Open a channel," he said with a flourish, "I have a counterproposal."

Once the channel was open, the Admiral stood and stared at the viewscreen, "We do not have confirmation that your civilization's level of technology is even equal to ours. Before we even consider catering to you, I propose...a test. To see who truly has the superior technology."

A sly grin formed over his hardened features.

Perhaps, he thought we can settle this the way the Old Dominion would after all

The transmission had been sent to their messenger even before he arrived on the ship. To further his claim that Dominion technology was superior, DuGalle also offered to transport the messenger immediately to the bridge.

"We have mastered the wormhole, and if you'll permit me I can show you how we can instantaneously transport a being from one place to another across space itself. You will appear on my bridge, and your craft will be placed in one of our many hangars," his expression was smug.

OOC : I am not sure this would work. A Dirge is a kilometer long.

OOC: OK then, wasn't sure what size the ship was. Simply omit that part about beaming the ship into a hangar. It might not end well for both of us :D

The Dominion would soon discover that their sensors did not penetrate beyond the outer skin of the Necron vessel, and thus they would not be able to get a lock on the necron emissary's 'body' to beam him over.

He still appeared on their bridge, his arms folded nonchalantly as he paced towards the vessel's captain - or whoever appeared in charge.

Greetings...

DuGalle kept his surprise well concealed, and simply raised an eyebrow, "Greetings, I am Admiral DuGalle of the Dominion Grand Navy. We have received your message and are responding in kind. Though this may be the first time you have dealt with us, this is not our first time dealings Necrons."

But hopefully, it will be the last...

"I see that your vessel is constructed of sensor-resistant material. Quite practical. You also possess your own version of the transporter device, most impressive. What centralized power source do your vessels use?"

He kept it civil, as was his duty, but he was flustered that they had outwitted him. He'd been banking on the transporter play to be an open sign of superiority. Though the technology was out there, he found that many races still insisted on shuttle travel and dropships. The Necrons were at least not fools, he gave them that.However, this contest was far from over in his mind. He was sitting in the largest Dominion warship not counting flagships and had access to the top of the line in pretty much everything you could think of:
Quantum Singularity core
Plasma weapons
A shield grid that absorbed energy weaponsfire and used it to reinforce itself

Yes, the Admiral was quite arrogant- er...confident in his vessel's capabilites.