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Azure Skies - Part 2

The Desolation of Dharmor, as many in the Central Council were now calling it, sent shock waves throughout the Breen Government and the Confederacy itself. While the Council's control of information allowed the event to be "repackaged" as a massive attack by violent extremists, the damage done and the lives lost could not be hidden forever. Before that happened, the Breen Science Directorate would need to do all it could to explain the events of Dharmor and provide a solution.

Meanwhile, almost all system defence fleets across the Confederacy were placed on high alert, with many Human and Sifani officers being demoted or removed from their positions, out of fear the violent uprising might occur again. Without an explanation as to their removal, resentment began to grow in the Human population of the Breen's military apparatus, the dream of Breen "integration" having been shattered for many. But that was a problem that could be delt with later, as the more pressing concern of the "Dharmor Anomaly" returning took the attention of the Council entirely.

A few days after the events at Dharmor, a new development arose. 117 ships had left the Dharmor system in the days between the anomaly and the primal outburst, and all the Humans and Sifani on board these ships seemed unaffected by the anomaly itself. After lengthy tests, all were determined to be of sound mind and body. Of those 117 ships, however, 4 of them had been transiting through warp-space when the events at Dharmor had begun. Their Human and Sifani crews had frozen like the others, but never experienced violent behaviour, instead entering what can only be described as a "default" state of existence, undertaking only the most basic functions, like breathing, eating, drinking, and defecating.

This indicated two things to the Science Directorate; One, the effects of the anomaly had been localized to the star system itself, and two, that despite its localization, the anomaly seemed to still be able to reach, at least partially, through warp-space. How such a "disease" was able to spread through the warp, a realm of pure energy, was unknown, but upon further analysis of the brains of the remaining affected, it was discovered that two sets of brain waves were overlapping on each other. One set was the normal waves observed in many sentient creatures, while the others seemed to emanate not from the brain itself, but an entirely different source, one that permitted the body of the individuals, preventing the normal sentient functions.

Before any more tests could be done, however, it happened again . . .

The Urthakia system, to the northern border of the Confederacy, experienced a blinding azure burst of energy across its skies. The clock was ticking, and without an explanation or a solution, only one option remained; prepare for war.

Lysiraith wrote:A Reptile Dysfunction

Emerging from subspace after far too long for her comfort - even though it was supposedly cutting edge equipment, everyone knew normal subspace drives were only rated for up to two dozen lightyears at most, rather than the almost forty that the Positive had just flown - Shriss was extremely relieved to see that the ship had survived the jump in one piece. Bridge crew signalled from their positions that all systems were green, though the subdrive would need to have its excess heat dumped and allowed at least thirty minutes to charge up before they could go anywhere in a hurry. A burst of pheromones set the sensor officers to work; they'd begin actively surveying the system they found themselves in and scanning the planets to determine their inhabitability.

As the lysiri had, for centuries, avoided the frequencies most commonly utilized by the Neighborhood, the signals from the Utakan ships went completely unnoticed - but the signs of their civilization most certainly were not. The sensors immediately showcased a hive of activity on the sole Tier 3 planet in-system, as well as the bright lights of outposts scattered through the asteroid belt; in shock at the presence of real alien life - even though they had known of it for a thousand years, had been explicitly sent on this mission for just such a purpose - they missed the presence of the enormous military ship for several moments before the alarms began blaring.

The Positive's cohort of soldiers - laughably small, of course, consisting only of six men - immediately readied their radguns and raced off to cover the docking hatches on both sides of the craft. On the bridge, Shriss's tail flicked in terror as the sheer size of the alien vessel became apparent; whoever they were, they had clearly had plenty of time to advance in isolation and field devastating warships of unparalleled power to anything in the Tribunal's own arsenal.

"Hold tight! We don't know if they're hostile," though she certainly thought they were with such a magnificent beast, "And so we should try to contact them. Comms officer, send out a burst transmission! The Verdareion made sure we had a file specifically for just this purpose - let's hope they wield the wisdom of the Kaliarchon."

Decision made, the lysiri craft pivots in space to face the alien warship head-on, raising their shields but otherwise doing nothing even remotely hostile. On the usual frequencies used by the lysiri, a single video file is transmitted - containing images of lysiri individuals and crowds, Arthalyndor itself, the Kaliarchon in her splendor, mathematic equations, a lexicon of the sylvalith language, and other such things; all indicating peace, with nothing mentioning even a hint of violence.

A Reptile Dysfunction

As the Think Positive transmitted its welcome message, the system seemed to come alive just a bit more. Previously ignored, more and more signals popped up on the ship's scanners. Hundreds of unusual signals. Impossible signals.

And then the impossible showed itself. Out of the shadow of the moon ominously emerged a leviathan, comparable to a mythical beast rising from the dark sea in front of an unsuspecting sea vessel. The metal leviathan slowly came into view, one kilometer, ten kilometers, thirty kilometers. It seemed almost as if the monstrosity never ended.

Then after sixty kilometers of pure space vessel, the leviathan came to an end, its entirety visible for the Lysiri to see. And it was ugly. A gargantuan, brutalist rectangular mass of ugly metal. And there were hundreds of them.

-

Ekop watched the display on the Steadfast's command table as it received the alien transmission. The display played a video that the communications officer had to resize just to be visible. Just like the last contact Utak had been through, the aliens spoke pure gibberish. At least this time there also seemed to be a lexicon attached, how kind of them. Hopefully there'd be less pointing of guns compared to what happened with the Collective. Ekop turned to the comms officer

"Raise command again, let them know we're dealing with what appears to be an exploration drone from an unknown alien race, it is transmitting what appears to be a greeting message and we are approaching to investigate."

She pulled out her own comms device from a slot on the command table and hailed the Sundown Bluff. "Alright Bluff, consider your inspection passed. Enjoy the weather, it's sunshine for the next hundred thousand kilos after all."

Ekop began manipulating a variety of controls on the command table, spooling up the frameshift drive. The ship hummed quietly as every Eckan could feel miniscule vibrations rippling through the hull. After a few moments, a loud "THRUUUM" announced the vessel's entry into ftl, with the computer designating a location a mere kilometers away from the Think Positive to drop.

War Games

I am barely ten years old when my father takes me to the games for the first time.

The roar of the crowds, the clashing of weapons old and new, The slaying of the titanic Vast. It’s all so overwhelming, I am enamored by it. I tell him that I want to be a gladiator some day and I see him smile with pride shining in his eyes. He managed to get me close to the VIP box, inside are Senators, Guild Leaders, Legates. I ignore all of them as I flail my tiny arms, attempting to get the attention of the largest of them, the Shinchu Primary who is kneeling on a giant cushion, a large cup of steaming tea clutched delicately in their massive hands.

The Primary turns and our eyes meet, atleast I think they do. In that moment I feel truly blessed…

I am barely 21 years old, my father smiles at me like he did in the arena all those years ago as he sees me off to join the Legions.

By tradition he hands me my shield.
With it, or on it.” he says, as the parent or guardian of every recruit mirrors, before we turn about and march away. I’m supposed to be stoic but my tears fall as I cannot help but smile and feel the light of my father’s pride shine at my back. The Decanus is merciful and turns a blind eye, he’ll make us mow the lawn with hand scissors tomorrow, but for now we are Unblooded Legionaries…

I am 27 years old when I kill myself.

The objective was simple: Protect and Keep the object out of enemy hands.
The Enemy: A company of five Shinchu Primaries, of the Broken Shield Chapter. Not your average Primary. My Contuburnia man the defenses, keeping up appearances. I take the object and hide beyond the walls of our fort, in the jungle. I make sure to keep the fort inbetween me and where we assumed the enemy would approach from.

I hide among the high branches of a nearby tree as one Primary steps eerily quietly beside my position. I take aim with my Lancer and fire, the giant falls, much less soundlessly than before, the noise draws attention. I reposition myself to a different tree when suddenly there are two giants blocking off my escape, leveling weapons at my small frame.
“Savor the fact you got the drop on a Chapter Primary.” One said.
“Oh I did much more than that, Sires.” I say and look down at their feet. They follow my gaze and find the explosives I hid among the roots and underbrush. A click of my detonator and this jungle gets a little less dense. I smirk as I suddenly feel like a god.
“I knew I couldn’t stand a chance, so I set a trap, just to be sure. And look at that, my trap has caught me two Primaries…” I say with a chuckle, wagging the detonator in my hand.

The giants stared at me in disbelief “But if you trigger this trap, you’ll perish with us.” One of the Shinchu says.
“Ofcourse I will.” I say, my smile widening ever more. “Thats why the Legion always wins, we’re expendable. One Legionary for Three twelve-meter-tall adversaries? That’s Victory.”
“Your objective is to protect the object. We know you have it on you.” They say.
I show them the object I carry: A bundle of Ration-bricks, lashed together with tape. “Figured you’d assume we’d try a clever trick, so we kept the object at the fort, let you lot chase the bait. Thin your numbers.” I say as I unceremoniously drop the false objective, the Giants begin to laugh as I click the detonator, harmless puffs of smoke erupt around us, our systems marking the lot of us as KIA.

“You are quite the soldier...” They paused
I light a cigar as the three of us leave the simulated battleground. “Clovia Albitis, Lancea Primus of the 105th Dragon Slayers Legion, 1st Cohort.” I introduce myself. “Your Dishonorable Adversary.” I add with a grin…

Utak wrote:A Reptile Dysfunction

As the Think Positive transmitted its welcome message, the system seemed to come alive just a bit more. Previously ignored, more and more signals popped up on the ship's scanners. Hundreds of unusual signals. Impossible signals.

And then the impossible showed itself. Out of the shadow of the moon ominously emerged a leviathan, comparable to a mythical beast rising from the dark sea in front of an unsuspecting sea vessel. The metal leviathan slowly came into view, one kilometer, ten kilometers, thirty kilometers. It seemed almost as if the monstrosity never ended.

Then after sixty kilometers of pure space vessel, the leviathan came to an end, its entirety visible for the Lysiri to see. And it was ugly. A gargantuan, brutalist rectangular mass of ugly metal. And there were hundreds of them.

-

Ekop watched the display on the Steadfast's command table as it received the alien transmission. The display played a video that the communications officer had to resize just to be visible. Just like the last contact Utak had been through, the aliens spoke pure gibberish. At least this time there also seemed to be a lexicon attached, how kind of them. Hopefully there'd be less pointing of guns compared to what happened with the Collective. Ekop turned to the comms officer

"Raise command again, let them know we're dealing with what appears to be an exploration drone from an unknown alien race, it is transmitting what appears to be a greeting message and we are approaching to investigate."

She pulled out her own comms device from a slot on the command table and hailed the Sundown Bluff. "Alright Bluff, consider your inspection passed. Enjoy the weather, it's sunshine for the next hundred thousand kilos after all."

Ekop began manipulating a variety of controls on the command table, spooling up the frameshift drive. The ship hummed quietly as every Eckan could feel miniscule vibrations rippling through the hull. After a few moments, a loud "THRUUUM" announced the vessel's entry into ftl, with the computer designating a location a mere kilometers away from the "Think Positive" to drop.

A Reptile Dysfunction

Every race in the galaxy knows that space is silent - dead silent. This, of course, is because the vacuum means that sound has nothing to be carried on; if there had been anything to bring it through, every single species in the galaxy, sapient and non-sapient, would most likely have evolved to have no auditory senses or been forced into deafness.

Yet even the silence of space couldn't compare to the stillness and absolute lack of noise on the bridge of the Positive when the mind-bogglingly gargantuan alien spacecraft came from behind the T3 planet's moon - and it only grew more pronounced as they gave witness to dozens, then hundreds, of its brethren. Each was easily as big, if not bigger, than the capital city of Milamel, back on the homeworld; which itself was home to more than forty million lysiri, and growing every year. Combined, these ships could easily carry more than twenty billion lysiri; an entire moon's worth of colonists. Every person on the bridge shuddered to think of what circumstances could have forced these aliens to create such enormous craft - and it was even more terrifying to think of the sheer power contained within these behemoths. So in awe of these giants were they, that they completely missed the Steadfast's jump to FTL - that is, until the proximity alarms began blaring as it appeared barely a kilometer off the bow.

The crew exploded into activity, frantically doing everything in their power to pull the Positive further away from the monster that now had them completely dead to rights; it was so close that they could its missile tubes - each easily the size of, if not larger, than a starfighter. Utter terror gripped their souls, propelling them into a flurry of motion; tails flicking so fast they became blurs of motion from the apex of one swing to the next, eyes bulging from their skulls - more than was natural - and their hearts beating so rapidly that you could virtually hear it over the ringing klaxon.

Shriss barely managed to make herself heard over the din of the alarm, screaming herself hoarse, "Divert power to the rear shields and the engines, and bring us about! Full speed at turn, keep a minimum of ten kilometers between us and that.. that thing!"

The lysiri ship, spun around with incredible agility, before they hit the thrusters and were gone - the speed of Tribunal ships was, in a word, extraordinary; and the Think Positive was no different. If a Utakan blinked they'd have missed it, the little craft absolutely devouring the distance in a heartbeat. Coming to Shriss's appointed marker, the ship stopped on a dime and turned about once more - and this time, it was broadcasting on all frequencies, begging for the aliens not to kill them, that they were beyond apologetic for trespassing and that it would never happen again; the lysiri had every belief that this titans were out for blood, and had no desire for theirs to be the blood that was spilt.

An Utakan Story EP 7: The Cost of Hope

Utak wrote:10 days after the events of An Utakan Story EP 6: A Galaxy Unveiled

20 days before the gateway construction

Haiken stood on the wide balcony of the Capitol Tower, the evening air crisp and cool. The faint sound of the city mixed with the occasional trill of a nocturnal songcrest created a calm atmosphere tonight. A gentle breeze graced the balcony, a soothing moment of peace touching this part of the world.

"Nights like this, I almost forget we're in any danger." Dahn joined Haiken at the balcony, her hands gripping the railing as she gazed out at the sprawling city below. Lights were just starting to turn on around the city. "You leaving soon?"

"Yeah. Well, later tonight anyway." Haiken glanced at the bustling spaceport at the edge of the city. The two councilors sat in silence for a few moments, watching another shuttle of evacuees lift off for one of the ark ships in orbit. It slowly arced up until it shot straight into the sky in a blink of light.

"I think it's a bad idea, Haiken." Dahn could see the Lodestar parked in the spaceport from here, its orange and white livery unmistakable. The diplomatic ship was just waiting to whisk her fellow councilor away, possibly forever. "How do you know the Saharians won't kill you on sight? All we have on their desire for cooperation is second and third hand accounts from other aliens. Other Humans."

"Dahn, I have to believe that the people of this galaxy yearn for peace and cooperation as much as we do. The Collective have already proven themselves, and I trust the Saharians to do the same." Haiken placed one of his hands close to hers along the railing and looked into her eyes. "You have to trust me, I'm doing what I think is best for our people."

"But I don't trust you to do what is best for you. You're going to get yourself killed out there Haiken, waltzing up to an alien and getting blown up." Dahn spoke with the voice of someone scolding a friend. "And then I- we won't have a diplomatic councilor."

"Dahn... the technology and industry they possess could save millions of our people, and only I have the full negotiating power of the Union." Haiken paused, looking back at the city below. "And I'd say my life is worth saving millions."

"You're not just a tool for bettering our people's situation Haiken." Dahn sighed with a hint of aggravation. "I know how stubborn you are, and I know there's probably no dissuading you. So... just promise me you won't do something incredibly stupid away from home, alright?"

Haiken heard something in her voice that he didn't recognize. It confused him, for once his ability to read another Eckan's emotions had abandoned him.
"I..." He didn't want to leave either, if he had to be honest. Honestly he was terrified, but even a competent councilor could be replaced, the hundreds of millions of lives at stake could not.

"I promise. I don't want to leave on a bad note, maaaaybe I could treat you to a dinner before I go?"

-

Several hours later

Haiken gazed at the Lodestar through the spaceport hangar window industrial lights illuminating its orange and white frame against the dark of the night. He had to admire the vessel as it sat idle. A one of one, the specialty ship was the fastest in the entire Union, had a military grade jamming and sensor suite, and was equipped specifically with vanity in mind. More to impress foreign diplomats than anything else. It was his to pilot and would be his home for the next couple of months. He knew he should feel excited, or proud, or something positive, and yet... all he felt was apprehension. What if Dahn was right? What if this was his last time on Nibenya? Or what if the Saharians turned out different than they expected? At least this time they'd speak a common language.

Haiken pushed the thoughts aside, he couldn't cancel at this point anyway. He made his way to the hangar floor and began walking towards the underside boarding ramp, rain drizzling through the open top of the bay. Halfway to the ramp a voice called out, the last one Haiken wanted to hear.

"HAIKEN!" Tyrax shouted, his gruff voice echoing through the open hangar. Haiken mentally groaned and turned around as the defense councilor strode towards him.

"Do you even understand what you're doing?" Tyrax questioned angrily. "You're putting the entire Union at risk with this ridiculous mission."

Haiken took a measured breath, and spoke calmly. "Tyrax for once, let us speak amicably. We used to be friends, just hear me out one more time, and I will hear you out, please."

Tyrax paused, having obviously expecting a retort instead. He opened his mouth, closed it after a moment's hesitation, and then finally spoke. "Fine."

Haiken began walking towards the underside of the Lodestar. "I understand that there are risks involved Tyrax. But we do not have the capacity to build enough ships to evacuate everyone. The only hope of survival hundreds of millions of us have is the help of our interstellar neighbors."

Tyrax strode alongside Haiken. "Yes, I understand many of our people may die. I know you think my hatred of xenos overcomes my care for our people, but you know the history of the humans too. Uncountable souls have been lost to the Humans, and if they wanted to, we wouldn't be the first planet they've cracked, or the first genocide."

"I don't think they want to. The humans show incredible diversity in how they act, just like us. I believe the ones I've met truly are good intentioned." Haiken came to a stop near the boarding ramp, rain falling off the ship's sides in a water curtain.

"Maybe. But what happens when we meet the ones that aren't good intentioned?" Tyrax questioned. "You're risking our entire race for the possibility of saving a fraction of us. I don't think even a hundred million lives is worth the risk of total annihilation."

Haiken let the two sit in silence for a moment, considering his next words. "I'm going Tyrax. I hope you know you cannot convince me to stay." He glanced at the ramp just waiting to whisk him away to distant stars. "The risk is minute, and isolation is not the way forward."

"Isolation IS the way forward Haiken." Tyrax said, closing his fists. "If you and the council can't see that, then I don't think you are fit to lead and protect our nation." Tyrax's four eyes glared at Haiken. "I know there's no convincing you, so just go. I'll be waiting here to clean up your mess when the xenos betray us." Tyrax turned and walked away, fuming just below the surface.

As Tyrax left, the world was left quiet, save the rain and Haiken's own thoughts. Despite his conviction that this was the right thing to do, both friends and rivals were adamant he didn't go. The galaxy had to be a good place though... right?

Haiken let out a long sigh and turned to the ramp, boarding the vessel that would take him farther than any Eckan had ever gone.

Saharia.

Mirdann wrote:Outbound Flight: Interlude, Jintarin
New Saharia

She sounds resigned, almost bored, in her speculating. As if things like this happen every day in the Alliance.

"I would not dare to imply that the Party would endorse such a political stunt, however. Surely this is either the work of a rogue actor or a simple misunderstanding."

This country had more than enough of both.

Operation: Outbound Flight - Mirdann || Mirdann

”--It seems our presence has unintentionally caused some trouble, then,--” the Admiral retorts. Although Norsam believes her, it still reeks of half-truths and hidden details.

”--What is Jintarin’s role within the Alliance? By the looks of things they seem to have a great deal of leniency when it comes to their own affairs.--” Norsam asks this question as a Saharian; although planets in the Republic have a significant degree of autonomy, there are certain lines which must never be crossed. Jintarin, on the other hand, seems almost… rebellious. If not even a Laikokomma-sanctioned taskforce can exert enough presence to bring them to heel, that planet is either a powder-keg or a resentful member of the Alliance. Or both.

United Ucharrian Systems wrote:

“Well I was not alive at the time,since it took place several hundred years ago. The great war,a short global thermonuclear war and then a 2 and a half decade long conflict, destroyed much of the environment in nuclear fire and later war. But the war did end and by then the species had unified and not long after Warp drives were invented leading to the colonization of the stars. Now while the environment was damaged,life found a way and many fascinating species can be found even in the most radioactive and toxic areas.” he would then smile and chuckle at some memory. He would then be seemingly silent for what seemed like a few minutes,being in thought. He would eventually say something. “ you know,when we sit down to eat, we could discuss topics such as politics,religion and strategy,after that i think we can go to my room a play one of my favourite strategy games called Ravh´gal:ages of warfare,or we could play one of your human games."

Operation: Outbound Flight - Ucharrian Systems || United Ucharrian Systems

Thendon seems to have a rather myopic set of priorities for this first-contact. Usually, the first envoy would be overcome with obligations of setting up initial relations and committing to further diplomacy and understanding. The exchange of information, the setting-up of treaties and boundaries. But he seems more infatuated with the prospect of making it a leisurely hangout between friends.

This didn’t bother the Admiral at all, of course. He isn’t on a timer; he is free to spend as much time at a point as he desires. If this is the preferred Ucharrian method of dealing with a new species, Norsam is willing to play along for as long as they want. Aside from that, he doesn’t want to risk offending them by trying to push the interaction towards the obligatory, mundane duties common for first-contacts. There’s always time for that later.

”I would enjoy getting the chance to speak with you in more detail about your beliefs and principles, as well as those of your people as a whole. Even if we find disagreement, I am sure we can reach a mutual respect for one another’s points of view.”

Operation: Outbound Flight - The Factory || Biomachinerepublic

The Einhart sails elegantly through the silent void.

Space is… quieter here. Even the nearest transmissions seem so distant, barely audible among deafening background noise and hardly intelligible even to the ship’s cutting-edge sensors and communications equipment.

The SVV Einhart has taken a course which has separated her from the rest of Outbound Flight. For the past three weeks, they have found relatively little during their travels and two brief stops, where they uncovered a variety of odd artifacts from a long-dead civilization on a frozen waste.

The halls of the ship are nearly silent apart from the calming hum of the ship’s electrics. Rooms full of equipment and computers fill the air with faint bleeps and bloops, almost unnoticeable if one doesn’t tune their ears to the sound. The architecture and design of the ship’s interior is clean and utopian, mainly dominated by whites and greys in the ship’s sections and semi-circular hallways which fill with natural light.

Their world seems so much bigger and lonelier. There’s less conversation since they left the fleet; everyone seems to talk to one another in voices barely above a whisper. There is a feeling among all the crew which is impossible to describe, somewhere between the comfort of a lone ship exploring the mysteries of space and the instinctual, primal human fear of the dark.

Everyone is absorbed in their tasks; the dissection of data and samples as well as the motions of daily life seem sacred in a way words can’t convey. It’s a meditative state whose enjoyment is reserved only for those who have the minds and souls to embrace it, for those who have come so far. Only achievable when undertaking a scientific mission so distant from any sense of home, in the emptiest part of space. A childhood dream come true.

They find something else. A probe returns from its voyage, databanks full, telling tales of a nearby world on which rests a massive complex of some mad design. Long abandoned, slowly succumbing to the natural processes of its world over a thousand lifetimes. And yet, it’s anything but completely silent. Something stirs beneath its soulless exterior. Making a radical change in course, the Einhart arrives in the system hours later. Without wasting a moment, the ship engages its powerful short-range sensors to search every corner of the starsystem…

Everyone Wants to Rule the World || One of Six

What can be said about Jason Dell’arvis Ellecon, Executor of the Saharian Republic, conqueror and liberator, Architect of War, reformer and bestower of justice, Son of the Tyrant King, champion of the people and of Mankind, born rebel and leader? A man who has led the immature Saharian Republic for its entire existence, a man who has helped foster a young Republic into the greatest extension of Human power the galaxy has seen in three-thousand years. A man who, at sixteen years of age, became the central figure of a revolution which brought democracy and liberation to untold trillions. He saw to the end of the rebellion, one which overthrew the maleficent tyrant who threatened to subject the human race to the same cycle of subjugation which has trapped the species in a death grip since the rise of the Empire millennia ago.

Upon his appointment as Executor, Ellecon sought to build the Republic and fulfill his endless list of promises to the allies of the revolution, a ceaseless task which he continues to this very day. Many of these allies are of slimy moral alignment, but to ascend in Saharian politics, deals are made with devils. For every notorious and corrupt politician that Ellecon tears out of the ground, another is given great reward for having picked his side during the civil war. To turn back on one’s promise is to submit to suicide - politically and potentially literally.

Ellecon is a cockroach. He’s learned how to play the game and how to survive, and even his most staunch opposition is forced to concede that the man knows exceedingly well how to play his hand. He’s been proven next to impossible to kill, escaping assassination a total of four times - which only counts the scenarios when ended up getting far enough to be at least noticed.

Despite all of this, Ellecon has a heart of solid gold - a detail which is almost impossible to glean from an outsider’s perspective. His charisma is vindicated by his fierce defense of human liberty and the Rights of Man, and his hand was - and is - instrumental in the social and legislative reforms which have brought the standards of living in Saharia to a level which is second to none. He is a uniting force between the Saharian socialist faction and the juggernaut of the nation’s big-business, and has thus far managed to stay in good graces with both. If this wasn’t enough, he is adored by the military, and has fostered a growing cult of personality which once offered him the potential to rise to power as a king at the end of the war, a position which he turned down. A decision which only made him even more wildly popular with the masses.

His actual role as Executor is not dramatically departed from that of the king he deposed. Ellecon wields nigh-indefatigable power with this title, and apart from the position being elected by direct democratic vote and being separated from lawmaking in any form, he has a level of authority exceeded only by monarchs. Thanks to this, he has helped to craft a vision of Saharia in lockstep with his views and that of his fiercest friends and allies. For now, nobody else stands a chance in the polls.

Ellecon has surrounded himself with these allies, the absolute highest levels of government viciously loyal to him and his party. However, he has not obtained this level of respect through crafting a totem pole; throughout his years of leadership he has treated his subordinates and advisors as equals, and all who have worked directly alongside him have loudly lauded his approach to leadership. He is professional when needed and casual during all other times, extending his undying faith in egalitarian principles to all who come across him. Even as Executor, he does not carry himself above any other individual. To his supporters, this is his most precious trait.

During his first years in office, Ellecon was an expression of optimism. In between supporting reforms and giving rousing speeches while traveling the nation solving every problem he came across, he could be found hosting extravagant, exhilarating celebrations. A party animal if there ever was one. He was an almost mythical figure, a masterful politician who held onto every last inch of his humanity and soul during his ascension. And as the years went by, life would only get better for the people of Saharia.

As the years have slipped by, the weight of his duties and his past sins have diligently cut away at his mind and soul. As the Saharian Republic got caught in war after war during its interim years, Ellecon placed the blame for it all upon himself. The most powerful man in the world was unable to stop such horrors; every death is to be laid directly at his feet. After all, if he were a better man, a smarter and wiser man, he could have used his limitless power to stop the conflicts in the first place. For his inability to spare the galaxy and his people from the horrors of war, he has resigned himself to wallowing in shame and regret when left with his thoughts. Where an eager, passionate, and energetic boy one sat at the head of his meeting hall is now a young man whose head is heavy with burdens piled high. Tired eyes wash lazily over his advisors during briefings as he slips further into a deep depression each day. His job, his role - is killing him.

There is no way out. Ellecon spends sleepless nights thrashing in terror about what might happen to the nation if he were to be removed from the picture now. Nobody can do his job - nobody can finish what he started. There is so much work to be done. The clock is ticking, he hears it in his mind’s eye. Nothing is more terrifying than someone else in his chair.

Saharia stands victorious at the end of the Core War, the entirety of the region prostrate before her. Saharia’s greatest enemies are defeated, its greatest rivals shulking to the corners of the galaxy while the heart of Garellia is carved out in her own image. In spite of it all, Saharia is teetering on a knife’s edge. The undercity of Viskova groans beneath the weight of the massive spires above, clattering with the machinations of a movement which seeks to remove Ellecon before he finally vanquishes the Republic’s inner demons once and for all.

“Play the game. You know you can’t quit until it’s won.”

The Coup!

Vel'othi-Alphox forces in real-space have began to set their plans into motion. Spurred to action by regional director Vatu Ea-Ra. It was a tense but bloodless affair, with various loyalist and rebel elements facing off with one another at extreme distance. Both forces managed to evade eachother through the use of delicate maneuvers, and the stealthy profiles of ships on either faction.

Loyalist forces, outnumbered heavily, decided to withdraw into the wormhole unchallenged. One Alphox apparently disabling most of the security systems which guarded the wormhole's entrance (or exit depending on who was asked). Unfortunately, the plan wasn't a complete success, as key members of the royal family, thought to be located within the capital world Samsarah were "missing"... never present in the first place.

Rebel forces immediately preceded to fortify their borders and surrounded the wormhole with a significant force of vessels, attempting to find a way to lock it down... or close it. That was a problem to be solved soon enough, with much of the security systems around the wormhole restored and aimed not away from it, but towards it.

The world of Beyul was put on alert, blocking any broadcast in or out of the region, keeping secret much of the coup. Any major power was at least able to see significant activity in the area, higher than ever before, with much of the Vel'othi-Alphox fleet deployed for the operation.

The aftermath was... silent, very silent. This silence was broken with calls for new leadership, mainly choosing to elect Vatu Ea-Ra to the position of prime minister, but... he denied the position, instead offering that he serve as emperor in ceremonial context, which was actually greatly received by the alphox rebels. Instead, Vatu would recommend that his followers elect Mo'cha Nyto, a younger and pivotal member of the rebellion, responsible for much of the movements within the central systems, and an experienced minister of economics within the old Vel'othi government.

It was to be a long road ahead for the new alphox state. Especially that real-space was now under solely military control, with a single party state forming to take place of the old. Vatu Ea-Ra was now the sole leader of the state, with elections soon underway to choose the prime minister. Efforts were made to put forth several drafts to dictate how the state would be ran, with Vatu serving in ceremonial role as father of the nation, and for the position to be open to election by members of the Alphox council or directly by the people of the nation.

Of course, only time could tell what happens next. Shambhalah, and royal family, loyalists, and the Sai-Alphox still held a massive empire which was tucked away inside a portal to a whole other realm. It would be only a matter of time until they returned... if they have not set their eyes on something or somewhere else.

The Alabaster Throne wrote:Aboard the Splendid Intention.

“They want to talk? And depart on ‘Acceptable Terms’?” Valenea asked almost smirking at the demand.
Verity remained silent.
“Sire, You cannot be seriously considering this…”
“They have us outnumbered and several of their ships have apparently activated stealth.” Verity said finally.
“Only a fool would attack an enemy in the hopes of winning a battle, without knowing if the war can be won.” Valenea replied.
Verity turned their head to face the Sparri. “And yet they remain. In our system. The Frontier of the Throne. With reinforcements. After we have politely made our demands, as we are well within our rights to do so.” The Primary’s statement required no answer.

The Colonial Security Swarm of the planet Content slowed their advance before spreading out, putting several thousand miles between each ship, a wide barrier between Content and the intruding fleet.

Travelers, Your petition hath been weighed and found worthy. With grace, we extend our acceptance and bid thee to board our noble vessel, the Splendid Intention. There, in solemn council, shall we parley to forge terms most just and fitting for thy departure from our celestial dominion.

Under the Banner of the Noble House of Endeavor, Primary Verity and Commander Valenea Adacus grant You and Your Second the Right of Hospitality.

We await thy arrival.

Going aboard the splendid intention

Algarius started nodding gently and sent a voice message back “give us a short time and we will be on our way.” he would then shut it off and turn to his second in command “you are coming aboard the ship with me,dont have any arms with you since we arent attempting to start a slaughter, we aren't starting a war do you understand?” his second in command would simply reply with a nod as they both went to their respective quarters to get dressed in proper clothing. Despite not feeling he wanted to, he ultimately decided to take an unloaded pistol with him to give as a sign of “trust” as ucharrian customs did so. He eventually set his hair so it would just be on top of his head. looking in the mirror he saw he got his hair and uniform straight, yet looking in the mirror he once again saw his dead right eye,remembering the moment the blade went into his skull but luck barely saved him with a physical scar left and his eye almost cut in half. He shook it off and started to walk towards the launch bay. He would then call back to his 2nd in command and say “okay you know who's in charge now that we're both going over,remember we dont mess it up and there won't be another extermination.” he would then send a message back to the man in charge while he and his second in command would go over to the alien ship,making sure its encrypted incase the xenos try to listen to him “if i die aboard the ship,nuke it with the stealth vehicles and torch that planet to cinders and dust.” He would eventually end up onboard the transport vessel that would carry them over to the splendid intention. As they started the flight towards the splendid intention he would look at his second in command and say “let me do most of the talking okay?”. Eventually they would have floated through space for a while,reaching the splendid intention and requesting permission to land.

The Grand Forge Initiative

Drawn up in plans before the Core War, the Grand Forge was a proposed design to build a truly massive super structure over nearly a fourth of a star, reflecting the energy gained into an equally massive factory. What this factory would be varied on the speaker, from being a massive refinery or the largest shipyard in the galaxy.

The biggest obstacle it would face, at least to the Solarians, was the massive cost to build it. To build the power plant portion around the star, the requirement to run it, would cost more than the entire government of the time for 10 years, not to mention the cost of the factory, regardless of what it ended up being.

Ultimately the Core War would put an end to the idea of it as the sheer cost of it in material and money would ensure it wouldn’t be able to even be thought about for the duration of the conflict. It was left in planning shelves, gathering dust with funds that at one point were discussed to be used for it, now going to build new ships.

Now however, Author Dolf has restarted discussions on it. Much has changed since the pre war, including a much larger and efficient government, as well as a greatly reduced waste in the economy (the agricultural sector now being less than 0.5% of the overall workforce). things look much more favorable than they once did.

Work begins on setting up the foundation: a series of solar panel stations, similar in design to a low level “Dyson Swarm”. However this is far from the only work that must be done, and while far more funding can be found from the government, it is still not enough.

Thus the Grand Forge Company has been formed. By selling shares and gathering other sources of funding, they will attempt to get the resources needed to build the GF, whether these are from private or other government sources. Failing that, domestic funding could be used, though only having that would make this project take a matter of decades.

New-Order2 wrote:

He approached them as they disembarked from their ship, smiling at them, and would personally shake the hand of the Admiral.
"Welcome Admiral Glenn Norsam. Allow me to be the first to welcome you to Sol Prime. I hope your visit will be both joyful and memorable. Come, Please let me guide you to my personal shuttle. Unless you have further need to organize the rest of your crew, We can head to the Presidential palace directly from here."

Operation: Outbound Flight - Solarian Union || New-Order2

By far this was the most fanfare the fleet had gotten outside of their home space. Frankly, it exceeds what they expected from the Mirdanni - and comparing this to what they actually received isn’t worth discussing.

The Admiral is accompanied by three others. To his right is the stone-faced Captain Lockhart who, by some miracle, almost looks impressed. The other two on the Admiral’s left are Captain Rourkes of the Einhart and Archbishop Jamsey of the Divine Grace. The latter of these two stands out from the others, wearing what is much more akin to elegant beige and black clergy attire rather than a recognizable Saharian officer’s uniform.

The Admiral steps ahead of his cohort to address Dolf. Despite being very much shocked by the scale of the celebration, he only let his cordial, professional side show, and he did not hesitate. ”It is a relief to finally make it here, President.” He reciprocates with a firm handshake.

”My compatriots and I are ready to proceed. We can discuss details soon.”

Ex-Machina 374 wrote:Thief's Honor || New Saharia

Then an explosion goes off and showers the two of them in debris. Once the dust clears, it appears that the entire wall to their right has been blown apart as gunfire fires at the ship that caused it. "GET OUT HERE RIGHT ****ING NOW SLY!!!" A very angry voice yelled out after the fact. Extremely angry himself, Sly runs off towards it, weaving in between gunshots as he hopped into what looked like a large electric company van. As soon as Sly gets in, it turns and flies off the planet, very inattentive to anything while getting out unlike usual...

Thief's Honor || Ex-Machina 374

Ellecon watches him suddenly take off, making a beeline down the hall. Behind him, police troopers run past the Executor, weaving to the side to dodge the frame of his armor. Turning around, Ellecon picks up his pace and walks in the other direction…

Some time later, as Sly’s getaway ship escapes the atmosphere and rockets away, a figure rises from the back of the ship’s rear hold. His armor’s boots still letting him move with utter silence, he moves closer to the flight cabin. Closer.

He waits and watches Sly and his getaway pilot from the threshold for a long, anxious minute. He finds a moment of silence to make himself known. Deep down, he finds it exhilarating to catch their reaction to his presence onboard their ship uninvited.

”You know… for the most wanted man in the sector, you’re not really that hard to find.”

New Saharia wrote:Bridging the Stellar Sea
”Beyond my aforementioned proposal regarding your world’s moon, that is all that my government has prepared to offer you during our initial meeting. However, if there is anything else you wish to propose or discuss, I would be happy to communicate with my superiors to move your requests forward.”

Bridging the Stellar Sea

Haiken nodded as the ambassador spoke. He felt a wash of relief as Allen finished, this was exactly what he had been hoping to hear. Another diplomatic encounter successfully finished without even a hiccup.

"At the moment no, I don't have anything else I feel needs to be discussed. On my ship I have a comprehensive digital document detailing my people's culture, biology, and government. We've basically compiled everything we think could be of use to you for ease of reference. I just need to know where to transmit the data."

With the primer, future Saharian diplomats would be allowed to gain a competent level of understanding for all things Utak and Eckan.

"You can expect our ambassadors to arrive in about a month, maybe two if we're constructing our own embassy. I'll begin the process of securing a location for your own embassy, and should have news to give on that front relatively soon."

As Haiken finished speaking he glanced out the room's window, observing the complex dance of life playing in the starhold. The shuttles flitting, the lifts gliding, the lights glittering in the dark. He knew it was just his imagination, but he could almost swear he saw the tiny pin pricks of humans way out there. It was... fascinating. Inspiring.

"One last thing, on a less professional note. Is there any way I could bring home a souvenir?"

OOC I'm just looking for a little thing I can reference in a future post or two, like a small Etengari globe for example. If you want you can take the IC question as an opportunity to describe life on, the culture of, or the station itself.

Ambassador Reginald was having some difficulty. The current proposal of the Solarian Union, the latest attempt to get Rules of War added to the galaxy, was flagging. No, to call it flagging would imply it ever wasn’t doing so. It was more so dead upon arrival, with few if any supporting it.

It made sense to him why. After all, why limit yourself in a war? Why not use the absolute maximum amount of firepower you have to bring the conflict to a swift end, with minimal amounts of your life lost? So far, opposition seemed to imply Solarian didn’t even care about their own soldiers for proposing it, given how the quadruples had reacted.

Still, there was one he was quite sure supported the idea, even if they were unsure about the exact bill: the Saharian Republic. They had expressed support for the idea even as far back to the Core War. their main concerns were more in the details; such as enforcement and if their simple orbital support would be hindered.

Thus, here he was in a private meeting with their diplomat, Joseph Allen. They were having dinner over some wine from Saharia, and he was proposing something that he was sure would interest them.
“As you’ve seen in the preliminary polling, Support is just not there. This is why i want you to vote for it. Saharia has many times expressed interest in the idea, but the current bill is largely irrelevant to why I'm here asking you here.”

“This bill is dead, with or without you. However, Saharia can still win from this. Vote for the bill, and it will build support for the concept instantly. Not only from your own allies, but across the galaxy, people follow the example set by your nation. Your nation setting the example that it supports this will sway others and perhaps the next bill will pass.”

“You currently have concerns about the current bill, yes, worrying about whether your very reasonable weapons could get lumped in and banned. But you won’t have to worry about it, as the bill will still fail with only our votes. You can show both your own people you want to take this stance, a popular one among your public, and show the rest of the galaxy you hold restraint as a virtue, all while having to actually commit to nothing at all.”

“So, Ambassador, what do you say?”

New Saharia

United Ucharrian Systems wrote:Unexpected First Contact

On Approach…

The Ucharrian shuttle would approach the largest craft, identified as the Splendid Intention. Now viewed from up close, what was at first thought to be a smooth hull, was now revealed to be made up of rounded panels fitted incredibly snug with one another. The cream-colored plates contrasting brightly with the blackness of space, only broken by the dark brown swirling designs, which now seemed more jagged around the edges. As they neared the ship, a tiny hexagonal pattern was seen along the previously assumed smooth panels. The shuttle would be directed to a section of the ship where a group of these panels would shift and slide over or under one another, with larger panels swinging inwards, opening up the entrance to a large hangar.

Once inside the entrance would close again, allowing the shuttle to land as a delegation of humanoids assembled to greet the visitors. Each one standing with a military bearing. Stoic, and Disciplined. Red-skinned mammalians, sharpened and elongated teeth that resembled tusks or fangs. Facial scars seemed commonplace among them.

But the many creatures that skittered and fluttered all throughout the hangar were quite different. Many insectoid creatures, some standing not taller or longer than 3 feet all the way up to creatures the size of a draft horse, each moving in perfect harmony with the others. Smaller creatures skittered across the walls, floor and ceiling of the hangar, or across the other alien vessels in the hangar, ignoring the Ucharrian shuttle. The larger creatures carried large containers or tanks strapped to their backs, while the smaller insectoids operated machinery or used tools, extended hoses, plugged in cables or busied themselves in some other form of general maintenance. The Draft Horse sized beasts were truly intimidating, all spines, claws, and sharp mandibles as they eyed the alien visitors from the corners of the room.

Two of the red-skinned humanoids stepped forwards and waved what appeared to be censors, though no smoke or intense could be seen or smelled. On humanoid, wearing what appeared to be a unique badge like that of an officer approached.

“Visitors…” The officer said “…I am to conduct you to my commander. Please stay close to us. Our Lord’s spawn will not harm you provided you remain close to us. Stray too far and your unfamiliar scent might provoke the warrior caste into thinking you are intruders and will try to apprehend you.”

A short walk through what felt like both an insect hive and a military vessel, with large hallways, and bulkheads. The internals of the ship were clearly built to accommodate both these red-skinned humanoids, and their insectoid allies. With clearly defined walk-ways, tunnels and branching passages for the worker castes to keep the ship clean and running.

The bridge would appear like a combination of a throne-room and CIC. Large and open, but not overly so, the center was dominated by a holographic display of the planet Content, floating serenely over a raised cushioned platform where a giant rested. The creature was humanoid but neared a closer resemblance to the insectoid beings that skittered throughout the ship. Pale, pearlescent armor, large black eyes with flecks of white like stars in the night. It’s massive moth-like wings draped down its back like a cloak or cape. At its hip was a kind of massive sword that was several times as long as the Ucharrian’s were tall, it looked much more fitting compared to the giant’s own size.

Standing beside the platform was another redskinned humanoid, a female. With a more ornate uniform and badge, clearly of high rank. The officer that led the envoys cleared their throat and spoke aloud.

“Travelers, Under the Right of Hospitality, I shall introduce your hosts.” He said gesturing to the Giant and then to the female. “My Sire, Verity, The Leaf Primary. And my Commander Valenea Adacus of House Endeavor.” The officer said before bowing and stepping back.

The giant, Verity raised a massive hand. “I greet thee, Travelers.”

Valenea remained silent.

“You offer terms?” Verity asked, reaching for a large pot of steaming hot tea.

The Intersystems Collective wrote:A QUESTION OF EMBASSIES

The message was forwarded to the diplomatic corps on Soluna Prime, who were initially overjoyed that their request was granted. The volatility of Nibenya's surface was a given, and despite that the Collective was absolutely willing to set foot on Utakan soil to raise an embassy. Thus, knowing of all the possible dangers, they agreed.

[We shall construct an embassy on the ground. Its purpose is to interface with the people, not to sit up high unknowing of danger or reality.]

As Soluna Prime was currently closed off to foreigners, a different planet was designated as the Utakan embassy planet. It went with all the other embassies from other nations; Fallen's Reach was the chosen world. The lush verdancy of the planet was a one-of-a-kind; no other layered planet could sustain organic life like this. Most of them didn't have true atmospheres either, and were therefore only habitable to the Intersystems Collective's etherborn.

Soluna Prime was a lousy choice anyway. Fallen's Reach would treat the more naturistic Utakans well.

A plot of land was promptly cleared out within one of the planet's overgrown cities. It was far larger than the other embassies owing to the large size of the Eckan population, but that was a given. The Collective was also willing to provide building materials, though they would be happy if the Utakans brought their own.

-

The Intersystems Collective's embassy was a brutally pragmatic building. It wasn't beautiful at all and stuck out like a sore thumb; the blocky architecture left nothing to the imagination. In fact, the entire building was almost entirely made out of painted adamantine metals. The unnaturally hard and luminous material was cool to look at the first few times you saw it, but the novelty of real bonafide magic materials quickly wore off when one found out that it was essentially just a steel equivalent.

Boooooring. What was this, a badly written fantasy novel?

Security teams were imported straight from Ouroboros, as well as stores of ether were moved over to the embassy on Nibenya. That was largely all that etherborn needed to function; anything else was a novelty. Perhaps the most important part of the building was the relay that transmitted information back to Ouroboros, as well as the landing pad constructed capable of housing a small shuttle. Diplomatic personnel were vital too, and those came straight from Soluna Prime.

Riegel himself approved the importation of several artefacts straight from the Earther Archives, most of which came directly from Avalon - the United Coalition's former capital.

Amongst them was the original rune configuration for the first Shockdrive, an old method of FTL travel. Several pieces of clothing were also sent over, as was a small mountain of sun-engraved ethermarks that sat in a pretty pile almost entirely unguarded.

-

Ouroboros accepted the transport in a docking bay.

Whilst the crew on the station didn't exactly know where to put all of this, the I-COVOPs major appropriated the tree for their office, placing it just outside as a sort of guardian. As for the windchimes, those were sent to Fallen's Reach. Wind was rather prevalent on the tallest buildings on that world; they would look rather pretty dangling from an altar. None would mind; the Church of the Flame was open to other cultures and their practices.

Finally...

Wow, that was a lot of flowers. There weren't many personnel on the station but this sure was enough to brighten their days, even if only a little. Most of the crewmates there were fresh recruits straight from the vat, and so this was the first time many of them had seen organic plantlife to begin with. They had come here to explore the stars, and this was a gift many would cherish for as long as the flowers lived.

I-COVOPs did their duties and checked all of these gifts beforehand, of course. One could never be too careful.

~

In return, the Collective sent over a part of one of the United Coalition’s old control panels. The black glossy tile was engraved with dozens of runes both on top and below, and although it didn’t display anything, it might do so when hooked up to a proper ship. For now, it’s just a neat little ornament.

A Question of Embassies

As it turned out, those gifts were 100% genuine. Perhaps annoyingly for I-COVOPS, there was a very wide variety of flowers to examine, at least a dozen unique species exhibiting a wide range of vibrant colors and shapes. Just seeds at the moment, it seemed the intention was to surprise individual crew members with whatever flower they ended up growing. Attached to the crate had been a small note that translated roughly into: "Beauty is as varied and unique as the people that we share this galaxy with."

-

Much like what was expected from the Intersystems Collective embassy, the building received worldwide attention for its unique and literally alien material before falling out of the news after a few days. While it stuck out in the older capitol district, its blocky design seemed to fit right in with the more modern, brutalist and utilitarian designs of post evacuation architecture. The responsibility for the Utakan side of security was given to a section of the council's own security detail, and thus free from the command of any single councilor. They'd protect their Etherborn charges even against the orders of one of the Council themselves.

The embassy itself received attention for far longer than its architecture however, and countless Eckans visited, fascinated by the unique artifacts and curious about various aspects Collective culture. Some wanted to know how they could leave and become ISC citizens. Others came to see the articles of clothing, intent on creating the next great alien inspired fashion fad. Many just wanted to see Etherborn with their own four eyes, their unique biology far more alien than many pieces of fiction had ever portrayed.

On the other hand, efforts for the Utakan Embassy were somewhat delayed. A construction vessel was dispatched, along with a detachment of Eckan ambassadors, security staff, various cultural displays, and several months worth of food. The only issue was the far less advanced Utakan frameshift drives were significant slower, so they'd take at least a couple of weeks to arrive. Despite having the opportunity to ask for ISC assistance, the Eckans were adamant on building their own embassy, excited to finally revitalize their old way of buildings artistically stunning buildings. Free from the constraints of excessively common quakes, the embassy would be the first building made to be beautiful in decades, and they'd capitalize on the opportunity by creating structure whose outside seemed to flow and mix with the plant life. It would contain a greenhouse for showcasing a small collection of Nibenyan flora, and a small educational museum for those interested in its people.

-

As for the unique control panel, the Eckans had absolutely no idea what to do with it. As it turned out, the military didn't want to experiment on one of their own ships, and the economy councilor didn't want to potentially sacrifice a mining vessel either. It was sent to the research department to conduct non-destructive research on the device, maybe they'd find a use out of it eventually. For now it simply occupied a lab space as scientists handled the relic with the utmost care.

Lysiraith wrote:A Reptile Dysfunction

Every race in the galaxy knows that space is silent - dead silent. This, of course, is because the vacuum means that sound has nothing to be carried on; if there had been anything to bring it through, every single species in the galaxy, sapient and non-sapient, would most likely have evolved to have no auditory senses or been forced into deafness.

Yet even the silence of space couldn't compare to the stillness and absolute lack of noise on the bridge of the Positive when the mind-bogglingly gargantuan alien spacecraft came from behind the T3 planet's moon - and it only grew more pronounced as they gave witness to dozens, then hundreds, of its brethren. Each was easily as big, if not bigger, than the capital city of Milamel, back on the homeworld; which itself was home to more than forty million lysiri, and growing every year. Combined, these ships could easily carry more than twenty billion lysiri; an entire moon's worth of colonists. Every person on the bridge shuddered to think of what circumstances could have forced these aliens to create such enormous craft - and it was even more terrifying to think of the sheer power contained within these behemoths. So in awe of these giants were they, that they completely missed the Steadfast's jump to FTL - that is, until the proximity alarms began blaring as it appeared barely a kilometer off the bow.

The crew exploded into activity, frantically doing everything in their power to pull the Positive further away from the monster that now had them completely dead to rights; it was so close that they could its missile tubes - each easily the size of, if not larger, than a starfighter. Utter terror gripped their souls, propelling them into a flurry of motion; tails flicking so fast they became blurs of motion from the apex of one swing to the next, eyes bulging from their skulls - more than was natural - and their hearts beating so rapidly that you could virtually hear it over the ringing klaxon.

Shriss barely managed to make herself heard over the din of the alarm, screaming herself hoarse, "Divert power to the rear shields and the engines, and bring us about! Full speed at turn, keep a minimum of ten kilometers between us and that.. that thing!"

The lysiri ship, spun around with incredible agility, before they hit the thrusters and were gone - the speed of Tribunal ships was, in a word, extraordinary; and the Think Positive was no different. If a Utakan blinked they'd have missed it, the little craft absolutely devouring the distance in a heartbeat. Coming to Shriss's appointed marker, the ship stopped on a dime and turned about once more - and this time, it was broadcasting on all frequencies, begging for the aliens not to kill them, that they were beyond apologetic for trespassing and that it would never happen again; the lysiri had every belief that this titans were out for blood, and had no desire for theirs to be the blood that was spilt.

A Reptile Dysfunction

The Steadfast moved like a snail compared to the blisteringly fast Lysiri ship, sluggishly gliding through the void at a steady 25 m/s parallel to the Think Positive, maintaining the ten kilometer distance. Perhaps to the surprise of the Lysiri, no missiles arrived to doom them. It simply loomed in the distance, its intent left entirely to the imagination of the spacefaring geckos.

"That looked close to our missile speeds, I think it's a safe bet at this point-that's a drone." Ekop manipulated the console of the command table, running a speed estimate on what the alien vessel had just done. Unless its pilot was tiny, there was no way that thing had any living thing in it. "Let's send them our own data package then shall we? And run shields, I'm not curious enough to see what happens if it tries to ram us at those speeds."

-

On the Lysiri side, they'd receive a transmission almost mirroring the one they sent just moments ago. It contained a variety of video and image files displaying the 8 armed tauroid xenos and their planet, along with a lexicon for translation. Aside from the single transmission, the colossus of a vessel did not respond to the Lysiri, with no heed to their cries for mercy. The white and blue warship simply maintained its slow orbiting path around the Think Positive with its own shields raised.

In the vastness of space, they were almost touching. Two species with hopes for a better future, and lacking the words to express it. Perhaps one day, despite all their differences, they'd realize just how similar they each were.

Utak wrote:A Reptile Dysfunction

The Steadfast moved like a snail compared to the blisteringly fast Lysiri ship, sluggishly gliding through the void at a steady 25 m/s parallel to the Think Positive, maintaining the ten kilometer distance. Perhaps to the surprise of the Lysiri, no missiles arrived to doom them. It simply loomed in the distance, its intent left entirely to the imagination of the spacefaring geckos.

"That looked close to our missile speeds, I think it's a safe bet at this point-that's a drone." Ekop manipulated the console of the command table, running a speed estimate on what the alien vessel had just done. Unless its pilot was tiny, there was no way that thing had any living thing in it. "Let's send them our own data package then shall we? And run shields, I'm not curious enough to see what happens if it tries to ram us at those speeds."

-

On the Lysiri side, they'd receive a transmission almost mirroring the one they sent just moments ago. It contained a variety of video and image files displaying the 8 armed tauroid xenos and their planet, along with a lexicon for translation. Aside from the single transmission, the colossus of a vessel did not respond to the Lysiri, with no heed to their cries for mercy. The white and blue warship simply maintained its slow orbiting path around the Think Positive with its own shields raised.

In the vastness of space, they were almost touching. Two species with hopes for a better future, and lacking the words to express it. Perhaps one day, despite all their differences, they'd realize just how similar they each were.

A Reptile Dysfunction

Trembling in fear and praying to the gods, most of the crew were a tad too preoccupied to hear the comms tech shakily summon his voice and call out to Shriss, informing her that the giant craft had send a data burst - a burst on one of the frequencies used most commonly by the Neighborhood of yore. The captain was, herself, almost paralyzed with fear; yet she owed it to her species to see this mission through, no matter the outcome.

Slowly, the rest of the bridge fell quiet again once they realized the captain was staring wide-eyed at her screen - a few of the braver souls crept closer to take a peek, and were baffled to see an alien language being translated into sylvalith. Where had this information come from, they muttered amongst themselves, before their heads swivelled as one to the man on the comms - sensing a wealth of attention upon himself, he turned to see a dozen other lysiri hovering over him, tails flicking anxiously, before they erupted into noise, bombarding him with questions.

Shriss, on the other hand, was finally getting a grip on her heart rate; the burst that the massive craft had sent over was a first contact package - an almost identical mirror of what she had ordered sent out, if she ignored the fact that the aliens pictured in it were vastly different in evolution from her own people. Taking a few breaths to steady herself, she opened a new line to the aliens - this time on their own frequency - and tentatively spoke, relying on the computer to correctly translate her transmission.

"This is Captain Shriss nol Ancalen, of the Think Positive. We represent the lysiri of the Holy Tribunal.. and we come in peace."

Mind Virus

MIRROR COURT, DEFEN-8

Doors groaned as they were pushed upon, hinges rattling, knobs shaking. Glass shattered, shards dancing across the floor and landing at the feet of several androids, who clutched their guns at the ready. Each one turned their safety off, taking aim as they waited in position.

"Come on..." The android muttered, finger gently squeezing down on the trigger. Something was emerging from behind the barricade that they had constructed, many things. Glowing eyes, humanoid forms, familiar faces. The barricade fell and the room was filled with a hailfire of bullets and energy rounds, tearing each and every one of the intruders to shreds. The bullets just weren't enough though, the hardy frames of the infected androids allowed them to move on after even the most fatal of injuries, and the room was flooded with them.

One of the androids screamed, ACER gun aimed, and safety parameters off. She fired the 4cm round, the world around her, her dead allies, and the infected androids were filled with intense glow, heat, and immediate silence.

Inixia's Loft, Dunia

Golden rays seeped through the blinds which covered the large windows of Inixia's room, shining onto her face and rousing her awake. The wolf-ish assassin rolled herself out of her coverings and out of the bed, stretching and fixing her hair. Inixia descended the stairs, and came face-to-face with a figure sitting in the shade.

"Another project for you Inixia, the next iteration." The individual said, pointed ears becoming visible as the rays of light moved through the shades, illuminating him in a glow. It was Senkaar, her father. He rose from his chair, picking up some sort of decorative block and fiddling with it. "Clones, androids... What's next? You might as well use those Raelings you have stored up." She replied, crossing her arms and leaning on a nearby column. "Well yes, but we have to be distinct. Raelings are symbols of Kinmoon and the usanines, you though, are the face of the Perseus-Rift. We can continue utilizing several variant DNA templates crossed with samples of your own and our best soldiers."

Inixia thought to herself, lifting an arm to grasp the column, wrapping the arm around it, and began to lean forward, letting her arm catch her. "We can't make them a total hivemind, and we can't make them too independent... but I can try to make it work similar to the Raelings, in that they constantly share information, while being more organic, less robotic." She explained, and Senkaar listened, cube on the table before him and his hands clasped. "I'll have the labs be more strict on how they are produced as well, more uniform in appearance with only the best traits selected." Senkaar said, head tilted down. He raised his eyes, looking at his daughter as he continued to speak. "Favorable traits being those of the mind, you're... like the younger me, and I'll have the clones modified accordingly for more social behaviors and less antisocial modes of thinking."

The assassin listened, frowning slightly. "Fine, I'll see what I can do. But remember, what has happened to those androids wasn't my fault... some weird magic, something got to them, alright?" She raised herself off of the column, standing straight. "I know that, but it doesn't excuse progress. Conventional infantry is the thing of the past, I could just replace them all with gelbots or drones, but these things interest me; create for me the best fighting force in the galaxy, and we'll see what happens next." Senkaar said, nodding to Inixia to indicate his leave.

"And remember..." The chimera paused, looking over his shoulder, head almost turning like that of an owl. "Don't be lazy."

Outbound Flight: Axon
New Saharia

"The Jintari are a republic like any other in the Alliance, though during the Warlord era they had domain over this entire region of space. Every government that has come to rule Jintari has been aggressive and militarist, especially after the Lyseni bombarded it during the Castigation a few hundred years ago. Their new salvation government that overthrew the old Navarchs may have sided with us, but their interpretation of the Founder's vision is... eclectic, to say the least. I suppose their heterodoxy wouldn't be as cumbersome if they didn't have so much influence over half of their former slave-worlds."

The captain paused for a moment, perhaps from the latency of the Selay's faulty hardware.

"I gather they are rather bitter the Lyseni joined the cause soon after they did. Both planets have provided the fleet with thousands of quality officers and ships; void, if you see a Alfaylaq-class and she isn't from Axon, then she's probably from Lyss or Megara."

Well, two planets diametrically opposed yet providing their nation with deeply similar resources. Another complication to throw onto the Alliance's plate.

"Apologies, I'm not quite as well versed in the affairs of the West as I should be. Regardless, if you don't have any other question, then lets be off."

With that, the troubled marble of Jintarin was left behind by the Saharians and their put upon escort. The next stop was where all roads ended.

Axon.

---

The winding route to the World City was arduous. Cutting through one of the nation's infamous dead zone's, their path was lined by massive, ancient signal boosting stations that cut it apart. Even with the dull droning of signal static, the comms traffic was omnipresent. And yet it only increased the closer they got to Axon. The anticipation of finally seeing this fabled planet grew more and more. When they were finally welcomed into the system, they were greeted by a truly massive parade of warships, pleasure barges, and civilian craft that trailed them as they entered the outer limits. The formation tightened again, this time for the convenience of the several hundred news and entertainment programs filming their ascent towards the capital world.

It was terrifying.

The system had ten times the amount of activity Jintarin had, and its thousands of natural and artificial satellites thrummed with life. Yet even this only served as a backdrop to the World City itself. Behind a choking screen of debris and the truly vast numbers of drydocks, orbital manufactories, and shipyards which danced in its orbit, was a sprawling arcology that enveloped both poles of the planet. Interrupted only by a greenish-blue, enchanting sea that straddled the planets equator, Axon's landmasses seemed to encompass 67& of the planet's surface. But the line between artificial construction and natural crust was blurred beyond all recognition. Scans made it clear that the city below was not only all-encompassing, but was several layers deep in some places.

Below, pollution hung like a noose over massive industrial complexes while just miles away the upper districts looked up into clear skies, protected fom their avarice by enormous filters and ecological domes. Habitation blocs stacked high and dug low, while transit lines shot across thousands of miles of unending city. Terraces and plateau's rose and fell like islands of wealth and nobility in a sea of industry and squalor. Skyscrapers rose like weeds, standing out of place or in scattered copses as the city went on and on. But it was clear that only part of this arcology was inhabited. In some areas, air conditions were so bad they precluded the activity of unprotected humans. Some communities clung to life here regardless, but in other areas this was not the case.

There were rings and scores of ruined buildings and complexes, pounded into dust by the passage of time or weapons fire. Places where filthy water poured forth into the streets like an artificial river delta. Wastelands of pulverized metal, rock, and cancerous industrial waste carpeted by vast storms of dust and lightning. Each scar engraved onto this orphan of Earth only added to its terrible beauty.

Yet what the Alliance extranet had to reveal about Axon simply boggled the mind. Though its true population is seemingly unknown, Axon is home to one to three trillion people.

As the Saharians observed the world below, they were sent yet another transmission by the Madame Selay. According to Captain Hallow, Norsam and any other high ranking members of the expedition had been invited to land on the planet and observe the triumphant return of several Axonic divisions of the Land Army while partaking in the nation's first awarding of medals to Army personnel. The captain went on to add that her superiors would prefer that they all make the descent in a single shuttle. Hallow said they could either use one from the Resolute or the Madame Selay, but it was up to Admiral Norsam.

A parade and a party, all in one day.

War in the Fidulien Star Cluster:war is dragging on

3 months since the beginning of the war in the Fidulien Star Cluster,battles against the coalition of alien species are raging with unexpected casualties mounting and heavy material losses for very small advances. This had been recognized as such a disaster by the government that the entire war was censored and almost only people within the military actually knew what was exactly going on in the Fidulien sector. Yet not all was lost. Despite the war going badly,the military was attempting to slowly start to learn from their failures with wargames and military strategy sessions being held almost every single day between commanders in order to change and refine the Ucharrian school of war. Yet the now apparent corruption within the military was starting to show,and many commanders would also refuse the new strategies and doctrine,slowing progress significantly. This would irritate the government who also got hindered by internal division and the military branch in the government mostly refusing to do anything. Despite this the war would carry on with worlds conquered by blood and iron being colonized while remnants of local populations were being exterminated. New colonies are being made but the war is going at an unsustainable rate. Eventually the government managed to organize STRATCOM,an event that would have high command,the intelligence agency and many generals meet with war material designers to figure out what to do to make the war sustainable and win it quickly. This was supposed to be a secret event,yet 3 days after it took place it got leaked among information that would change the general populace.

God Rest ye Merry Gentlemen ||| New Saharia

Christmas. Christ’s Mass. The most important holiday within Feisen, the three days encompassing the holiday see an almost total economic shutdown. Weapons factories lay dormant, mines unoccupied. Only the most essential roles within the nation are still filled, and churches see an all time high membership. While Feisen is not an outwardly religious nation, anytime Easter and Christmas rolls around the nation resonates with hymns. Not just a time of celebration for the fox-state, but a time of reflection and forgiveness, of thankfulness and salvation.

Nemian Cultists took refuge in their faith, praying to the rosary as they prepared their defense. Aejer gathered in abundance within their wooden churches, roasting legs of deer. The Parliament was shut, the members of it gathered outside to partake in the Eucharist. Factories in orbit dormant, their workers planetside with family. Oceanic defense platforms rigged up with trees and lights, the planetary protectors praying alone in their stations.

But the most outward celebration was aboard the Feidalus. Home to two hyper Christian nations, The Church of Christ and The Salvationist Church had been working hand in hand for months to prepare for this holy event. Guests of Saharian and Feisen families were invited to board, the station closed off to the galactic public for the time being.

The two wings of the cultural exchange were made neighbors for this exact reason, preparations for Christian celebration. Cordoned off to just Feisenites and Saharians, the focal point of celebration was the two churches located within the exchange. Priests of both denominations occupied these churches, and they had prepared a single sermon to be repeated several times.

The reason for repeating was the limited capacity of the halls - The Feidalus had a lot of guards. And while not every guard had a large family, they wanted to celebrate the most important holiday of the year. The station still needed its guards, even on holidays. The celebrations started at 06:00, the two halls turning lively within minutes of that time. Tables were set up and down the halls, stocked with food and drink. Various workers in jolly outfits awaiting to help refill and restock, the first shift of Feisenites and Saharians arriving, finding seats wherever they could, often pretty close together. It was a traditional Christmas buffet, stocked with meats and vegetables. A hardy array of dishes, fresh cocoa and hot chocolate. The hall's air conditioning had been set lower than normal as well, to help give that cozy, cold Christmas feel. Faux fires set up across the walls, trees with glazed lights, crucifixes hanging high.

It was as Christmas as could be, sans fake snow. But the main reason for the joining of the two groups was their religion. And before long, the sermon began.

”Welcome, everyone. A Merry Christmas to you all. While we understand not all of you may be Christian, Christmas is inherently a Christian holiday. Celebrating the birth of Christ, God’s only son. Sent to show us sinners the way. And after communing with my brethren in the Salvationist church, we would like to open this event the same way our shared ancestors celebrated their first orbits of the moon. Reading from the Book of Genesis. I will read the first half, and my Saharian compatriot will take the second half.”

The voice came over speakers in the hall, the priest standing on the Saharian side, the Salvationist on the Feisen side. Standing on a little podium at the center of the hall.

”In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth.“
”And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters.“
”And God said, Let there be light: and there was light.“
”And God saw the light, that it was good: and God divided the light from the darkness.“
”And God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And the evening and the morning were the first day.“

The Saharian in the other hall took over the other half. Six to ten, just as the crew of Apollo did.

”And God said, Let there be a firmament in the midst of the waters, and let it divide the waters from the waters.“
”And God made the firmament, and divided the waters which were under the firmament from the waters which were above the firmament: and it was so.“
”And God called the firmament Heaven. And the evening and the morning were the second day.“
”And God said, Let the waters under the heaven be gathered together unto one place, and let the dry land appear: and it was so.“
”And God called the dry land Earth; and the gathering together of the waters called he Seas: and God saw that it was good.“
”Merry Christmas – and God bless all of you, all of you on the good Earth. That was paraphrased from the last thing they said. These humans had no idea what we may one day achieve with space travel, expanding to the galaxy and becoming what we became. It was three people, in a tiny metal pod. Sent to orbit around the moon of the Earth. And they did. A landmark breakthrough for humanity as a whole. And in that moment, they turned to their God - Our God. And He guided them. Truly, Merry Christmas to all.“

The proper sermon began not long after. Lifted heavily from the New Testament, giving all in attendance a lesson to keep and hold with them. A lesson about overcoming differences, but being steadfast in your faith. In the face of anything, the Lord God will be with you.

This Christmas celebration lasted a total of twelve hours, sermon told a total of four times.

As residents came and went, they had a merry time.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

God Rest ye Merry Gentlemen

What is no more special than an average day across the galaxy is a momentous and magical occasion for many nonetheless. For the more than twenty-six trillion people living under the banner of the Saharian Republic, the apex of the holiday season materializes slowly over the preceding month.

Saharians know nothing of snow, nothing of the cold. The Christmas which is celebrated today is very different from what it once was; what is not forgotten is the reason why it is celebrated. The birth of Jesus of Nazareth has stood the test of time, unchanged in its message and unwavering in its authenticity. Even for the not-insignificant number of nonbelievers, the holiday season brought on by this momentous memorial is a time to rejoice.

Saharia is a nation which cannot afford to sleep. Vital jobs and tasks must be upheld by any means necessary. However, it is unjust to force some people to work and keep watch while others celebrate and rest. Soon after the nation’s founding, a resolution was passed which extended the length of the holiday across three separate Viskovan days, thus tripling the holiday for all. Each day is no more or less respected than the others; employers are obligated to ensure that each employee enjoys at least one of these days free of duty, and to be scheduled well in advance to ensure that no one is left behind.

Every year, the nation launches into a ceaseless celebration for three days. New and old-authentic music alike buzzes on the airwaves. People gather in their homes, in the streets. It’s impossible to turn a corner in the great cities without spotting at least one heartfelt family reunion. Great feasts are prepared, the Church holds lavish gatherings and ceremonies. Even within the bureaucratic halls of the Eastern Spire, the mood has taken a turn for the better.

Indeed, the politicians, officials, and leaders of the Republic are not shy to celebrate. They party as if they are nobles; the political rivalries and nervous nature couldn’t seem further away at a time like this. The Executor himself used to be the star of the show at the annual Christmas celebration, but now it’s taken for granted that he’d rather spend the holiday alone.

And so he does the same this year. Tucked away in his office, well above the clouds as twilight approaches. Nobody pesters him about it anymore; they know by now he’s not to be bothered with.

---

He watches over his empire, a nation which has come so far. Humanity reborn, the new age of Man they say. There is no doubt that Saharia is a testament to the race, to the principles of their culture and resolve. Many great evils vanquished, a new age in the galaxy for all who call it home. And yet all he can allow himself to see is the rot underneath all of it. All of the glory, accomplishment and indefatigable spirit is clouded by his vision of the unpurged evil which taints every corner of the Republic. It has become his obsession, a promise made over a decade ago which has become a fierce vendetta. As the Time draws nearer, he grows anxious. But, on this fateful holiday, a revelation passes through him, carried on the chilled winds high in the sky. A realization of what he’s fighting for, something he never realized held the key to his determination.

This isn’t just about the people. The nation, the struggle, the future.

It’s about himself. His spirit aches indescribably to be relieved of this burden. When the game is over, he wants to run away. Run away and never look back, overcome with the reassurance that life and liberty will go on until forevermore. His legacy, his image, how people will remember him… he doesn’t care. Not anymore. It doesn’t matter to him anymore. It doesn’t matter to him anymore.

One Final Effort. And in the glow of his victory, he will vanish without a trace, with her by his side. Never to reappear again.

Just the thought of it is exhilarating.

---

On the second day, the Executor attends the first banquet of the second morning of Christmas. His friends and allies are shocked to see him, but they don’t hesitate for a second to welcome the young man and prepare his seat at the head of the grand table. A chair which has sat empty for years. Ellecon still lacks the unshakeable optimism of his earliest years as Executor; he’s still relatively quiet and appears tired. The kind of tiredness that sleep doesn’t fix.

It doesn’t matter; him just being here is enough to lift everyone’s spirit. Even at his lowest, his aura holds strong. He talks, eats, even laughs genuinely. As the day goes on, he only seems to get better and better. It makes his supporters more relieved than he will ever know. ’How can they be so happy, despite knowing what’s coming?’ He asks himself, over and over.

‘It doesn’t matter,’ he answers himself. ’It doesn’t matter.’

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