WA Delegate (non-executive): The Sovereign Covenant of Teutionia (elected )
Founder: The Sovereign Covenant of Teutionia
Last WA Update:
Embassies: The Erviadus Galaxy, The Bar on the corner of every region, Pax Britannia, International Debating Area, Commonwealth of Liberty, Portugal, Solar Alliance, The Great Universe, The Vast, Argo Navis, Lardyland, Union of Shoddy Subaverage Republics, Greater Middle East, Celestian Prosperity Sphere, The Western Colonies, Diamond City, and 3 others.The Astral Union, Independence Hill, and Krasnaya.
Tags: F7er, FT: FTL, Fantasy Tech, Featured, Future Tech, Large, Magical, Map, Multi-Species, Offsite Chat, Offsite Forums, Outer Space, and 7 others.Regional Government, Role Player, Serious, Silly, Snarky, Social, and Video Game.
Regional Power: Moderate
Today's World Census Report
The Largest Agricultural Sector in The Universal Order of Nations
World Census bean-counters on horseback guided herds of cattle to slaughter in order to determine which nations have the largest agricultural sectors.
As a region, The Universal Order of Nations is ranked 475th in the world for Largest Agricultural Sector.
|1.||The Merchant Confederacy of Titananium||Iron Fist Consumerists||“Gold in peace, weapons in war”|
|2.||The Sovereign Covenant of Teutionia||Compulsory Consumerist State||“Actions, Not Words”|
|3.||The Königreich of Silberfluss||Father Knows Best State||“Together Against Death”|
|4.||The Empire of the New Sun of The United Lands of Ash||Father Knows Best State||“Through Fire and Brimstone, Ash shall Remain”|
|5.||The Wa'Ebe'Akth Doot-Hokdywa of Legion Of Peace||Corrupt Dictatorship||“Whoever loves discipline loves knowledge”|
|6.||The Lunar Dynasties of Nylos||Inoffensive Centrist Democracy||“Our Dynasty everlasting, under the light of four Moons”|
|7.||The Isaurian League of Achaian Peloponnese||Compulsory Consumerist State||“Survive and Remember”|
|8.||The Second Lägian Guardianship of The Prussian Raumreich||Iron Fist Consumerists||“For the benefit of all who live.”|
|9.||The Unitary State of Ukarist||Capitalist Paradise||“Sest veel on Ukarist vaimustust”|
|10.||The Migratory Fleets of Uelvan||Inoffensive Centrist Democracy||“Uelvano Gradtar'yanti”|
- : The United Worlds of Technocracy of Vermell arrived from The Galactics Union.
- : The States and Dominions of Honorias arrived from Esamir.
- : The Sovereign Covenant of Teutionia tagged the region "F7er".
- : The Republic of Antron arrived from Balder.
- : The Colony of Barroth arrived from The South Pacific.
- : Carapatria ceased to exist.
- : The maquis ceased to exist.
- : The United Socialist States of Tsyingia arrived from The Pacific.
- : The Colony of Slerbia departed this region for The Rejected Realms.
- : The Sovereign Covenant of Teutionia ejected and banned The Colony of Slerbia from the region.
The Universal Order of Nations Regional Message Board
Greetings and salutations fellow nations. Or should I say, hello again?
Several years ago I joined this region as a novice, with little experience and few RP skills. I was a noob, a smooth brain, but now I return with the hope to begin anew with greater conviction and skill.
My nation is an alien one, one that forgoes the standard cliche humanoid form and uses a truly otherworldly biology. My aliens, the Silonians, are made with silicon at their molecular base. They live on hot, carbon/methane- choked worlds, much like Venus. Feeding off of heat and radiation, bound by a strong caste system, the
Silonians are like no other. They see Carbon-life as strange anomalies, weak in comparison to their abilities and culture.
Well that’s a small intro to my nation. I hope to become a part of this region once again. My nations form is submitted and I await a response.
You thretnen me you scrowler? I shuve tu ya mum!
Diplomatic Shuttle "Alpha-1"
"ORBCOM-1, Alpha-1 reports that the alien vessel has understood our intent of boarding their vessel peacefully. Alpha-1 will transmit the video footage live, right now," al-Hamdani spoke that with a sharp bark, giving the intel. engineer a quick nod, the man promptly connecting the orbital station with a live feed of what the human crew could see, the bots being exempt out of operating as live feed cameras due to the potential of hostile electronic/cyber warfare and tampering. The vessel's own front and side, as well as rear view cameras went on the live feed, feeding orbital command with important visual and audio data.
"Sir," one of the engineers came over the SQACOM, speaking with a very intrigued tone to their voice, "the alien vessel is attempting to guide us to what I can only assume is their equivalent of a ship hangar."
"Bring us close to the hangar," al-Hamdani commanded, feeling himself reel back a bit in the seat of his as the shuttle pressed onwards with a bright blue glow, only to grind to a halt as the forward thrusters lit up, deaccelerating the spacecraft again in it's careful approach. Despite the seemingly "primitive" handling of the spacecraft, the ship's AI and own human pilot assured it flew as smooth as possible, even though the pattern seemed rigid.
"Approaching designated target space," another of the engineers quipped up.
"Two hundred meters."
"One hundred meters."
"Halting-- aaaand, we're set, sir."
To the commanding officer al-Hamdani, the spacecraft seemed to be in some sort of containment chamber. That was smart of these aliens, to consider basic safety measures. "Alright, you know what we've been told in briefing. Respect the alien's sphere of privacy," he chuckled, "no rash moves, no alternate actions-- as long as I don't have anything to say what you have to do differently, shut your snouts and go along with plan A." An echo of "affirmative"-s went through the SQACOM, which was enough to have al-Hamdani relax, as the man removed his seatbelt along with another engineer, both checking their live feed cameras once again, as well as a few joints on their spacesuits.
"Hailing the alien creatures, now," one of the other engineers present spoke up, flipping up a switch and guiding their finger up against it, prompting it to suddenly shift upwards. Outside, this translated in the space shuttle suddenly casting up white and red lights on it's front and rear, which then devolved into blinking, signalling to the alien species that they were awaiting further instructions.
omg hes back
((Don't worry. Venus Might be a nice vacation spot for my aliens though. And wow, your ant are very similar in nature to my own aliens, they have a very similar Queen-based society.))
Chamber of Congress, Congressional-Class Super Dreadnought Lawgiver
Three Terran Months Ago
<What was that?>
Throughout the chamber, nearly-comatose Sadrithians struggled back to full consciousness. Those who were almost capable of getting to their hooves made valiant attempts to do so, while others who had revived only enough to blink were content to let their stalk eyes wander across the chamber to take stock of their neighbors. One in particular was at least capable of grappling the ornate desk in front of him and levering his torso upright. <Page!> he called, directing his thoughts to another clearly-insensate Sadrithian lying next to the nearest exit. <Page, come to your senses!>
The other creature blearily looked toward the speaker. <President Yellow Ochre?> he asked; the concepts were blurred, and it was obvious that his mind was still not clear.
<Yes, me!> the president growled. <Check the antechambers! Keep panic to a minimum out there if you can!> As Yellow Ochre gave his orders, he managed to get his legs underneath him, though he still had to depend on the support of the desk in front of him to avoid toppling back over; this gave him a good look at the panic that had already taken hold within the Chamber among high-level politicians who ought to have known better, so chances were good that the never-ending line of petitioners outside would be in serious trouble.
The congressional page didn’t have that luxury, but his head was clear enough by this point that he recognized the urgency of his orders. Through sheer force of will, the page clambered to his knees and half-walked, half-crawled toward the nearest exit of the Chamber, gathering strength and stability by the second. Yellow Ochre kept an eye on him to make sure that he was able to make the distance, but the rest of his attention quickly shifted elsewhere. He took a quick minute to type out an order into the touchscreen embedded into his desk, before putting a swift end to the chaos engulfing his fellow representatives. <Everyone, stay calm!> he called to the rest of the representatives in the Chamber. <Representative Third Drumbeat, cease your panicking at once! Representative Sweet Grass, do the same! All of you will calm down! I have already sent for news from Captain Long Tail, and it serves no purpose to assume disaster until we have the facts in front of us. Resume your places! We will continue as we were until more information is available.>
That information arrived almost as soon as the President was finished giving his orders, as a chime came from the emergency communication screen embedded in Yellow Ochre’s desk, revealing the face of Captain Long Tail on the bridge. Under the captain’s face was a line of text: Is everyone all right?
Yellow Ochre let his eyes pass over the gathered representatives once again before responding. We’re alive and uninjured, he typed. What happened?
We don’t know.
The President’s eyes narrowed. Telling the captain to find out would be counterproductive—Long Tail was visibly just as disturbed about the matter as Yellow Ochre—but the President needed information to give to his still-panicking representatives, and to anyone else affected on the ship. And on that subject: Is anyone keeping the Suranese calm? he demanded. If even one of those simple-minded horrors started dissolving physical matter or lighting up like a sun in their distress, everyone aboard the Lawgiver was in danger.
Captain Long Tail’s shoulders slumped as he quickly typed, We’re waiting on reports from the Temple. We don’t know.
Yellow Ochre’s tail snapped from side to side in agitation. It was fast enough that the captain’s screen likely couldn’t see it, but the audio of his tail blade whistling through the air would have been obvious, even through electronic translation. Chime again when you have more information, Captain, the President ordered. Long Tail bowed his head in acknowledgment, and the screen went dead.
<We still do not know the causes of our incapacitation,> Yellow Ochre announced to the Chamber at large. By this time, several other representatives had gotten to their feet again, and were clearly waiting for the President to give them more news; their wordless displeasure rumbled through the President’s mind as he professed his continued ignorance. <The captain is doing what he can to find out more.>
<He’d better well hurry it up, then,> growled a representative from the back. <If the crew’s left on the floor when we’re in delicate maneuvers, we’re all dead.>
<It was a scream,> interrupted another Sadrithian firmly. The thought was stern enough to catch the Chamber’s attention, and Yellow Ochre turned his full attention to Representative Garlas Dya-Malatar Thormar. <It was in pain. I’m sure that it has no more desire to repeat that experience than we do.>
The nearest representative to Dya-Malatar turned his eyestalks toward Yellow Ochre in clear exasperation, but the President was less willing to dismiss the other Sadrithian’s news as mere eccentricity. <Can you tell where the scream originated?> he asked.
Representative Dya-Malatar closed his eyes in deep thought. <Unfortunately no,> he said. <Perhaps some of the practicing priests in the Hall of Boeth’s Gaze would be better guides. They do have greater exposure to the Suranese and their energies than I.>
This prompted another wave of disbelief from most of the representatives around, though some of them were shaken enough to accept any news regardless of the source. And Garlas Dya-Malatar Thormar, who alone of the representatives in the Chamber wore the ceremonial garb of Boeth’s priesthood on his back and flanks, was an unusual source indeed. Born in the Dominion of Desele, a trait shared with at least two other representatives, Dya-Malatar’s research into the native Suranese ‘energies’ had made him an eager candidate for the priesthood of the Boeth Cult; unlike many of his colleagues in that profession, Dya-Malatar had seemed to take his role as priest seriously, and he had been known to take his Suranese followers and disciples far more seriously than any other Sadrithian as a result. He had been elected to Congress as a protest vote, largely supported by frustrated researchers in the Dominion of Telasero and the ignorant romantics of the homeworld’s lower classes; somehow, after a decade and a half of embarrassing himself and his fellow representatives without the slightest regret, Dya-Malatar continued to win reelection after reelection, with his supporters on Sadrith being replaced by those elsewhere whenever needed, but his support in Telasero never in doubt.
His insistence on acting the part of a priest rather than a representative was often a frustration to the presidents that had ruled Congress since his election, but the President now was willing to try anything. <Captain Long Tail will report about the effect of this ‘scream’ on the Suranese as soon as he has that information,> Yellow Ochre said. <We will learn then if the priests can say more.>
As Yellow Ochre spoke, the page returned from the antechambers. <The people are waiting for answers, President Yellow Ochre,> he said. <I have told them that Congress is working on a solution.>
The Chamber almost resounded with the collective sarcastic remark, <I’m sure that will hold them off.>
The communicator on the President’s desk chimed again, revealing Captain Long Tail with a furrowed brow and an agitated tail swing of his own. The Suranese were not affected, he wrote simply. The priests were completely knocked out.
Are they conscious now? Yellow Ochre asked.
Yes, answered Captain Long Tail. Awaiting instructions.
The President hesitated, before finally writing, I will see you shortly. That done, he glanced up at Representative Dya-Malatar again. <The priests were knocked out entirely,> he said. <You are free to speak with them and the Suranese at need, Representative.> When Dya-Malatar nodded his head, Yellow Ochre turned his attention to the rest of the Chamber. <We will adjourn for today,> he declared, <and return tomorrow to continue our debate on Representative Third Drumbeat’s motion to remove Ocean Tide from his office of governor of Aruhn. However, we will begin tomorrow’s session by relating whatever new information we have received about this most recent disruption. This session is adjourned.> Yellow Ochre reached behind him toward a rack on which rested the garb of the ‘Highest Speaker of Boeth,’ much more ornate than the flowing robes that most of the rest of the representatives were fetching for themselves, but only slightly more ostentatious than those already worn by Representative Dya-Malatar. The Chamber’s doors would soon be open, revealing the representatives inside to public—and, importantly, the Suranese—eyes; for the sake of Honorias’s standing with the enigmatic people who made their technology work, the Sadrithians could not appear to be anything less than sincere in their worship of the goddess whose Cult the Sadrithians themselves had invented to entice the Suranese to their side.
With a well-practiced motion, the robes flowed over the President’s back and hindquarters, while his tail rose as a visible sign of his readiness to defend himself. With that, President Yellow Ochre fell away, and Vanua Kaltra-Fanacas Arpenia, a Suranese name for a being that had never set foot on that thrice-accursed moon in his life, took his place. A quick glance across the Chamber revealed that the rest of the representatives had donned their semi-priestly regalia as well, though only Dya-Malatar looked comfortable in the cloth that he alone never bothered to take off. <We are ready,> Kaltra-Fanacas informed the page. <Open the doors.>
Bridge, Discovery-Class Corvette Valenvaryon
One Terran Month Ago
The ‘Great Disturbance,’ as it had come to be known, had affected every Sadrithian that could be induced to speak of it. From Epoura on Sadrith to the most distant Dominion of Falensarano, Sadrithians from all classes and origins had collapsed, totally insensate, in the wake of that great, mind-shattering scream. The priests, both aboard the Lawgiver and in the Supreme Temple of Desele, had agreed in all respects: A great scream had driven them out of their minds, and that scream had come from somewhere beyond the last Dominions, where the stars clustered more tightly and sparks of life were far more likely to be found.
Three ships had been tasked to trace that devastating call—small craft that would not be missed if the danger outweighed the Sadrithians’ capabilities or expectations, but piloted by the best, or at least the most well known, space captains of Honorias, to assuage the fears and complaints of the entire electorate. For the Suranese, the Boeth Cult had spared no expense in blessing the voyages and declaring that Boeth’s vengeance on Asra for the assault on her priests would be swift and terrible. For the Sadrithians left behind, there was no such assurance, but quite a lot of fear that such an event could eventually happen once again.
Now, on the bridge of the Valenvaryon, three Sadrithians turned their eyestalks toward one another simultaneously. <Did you sense that?> they asked one another almost simultaneously, followed immediately by the same simultaneous reply: <Good.>
Captain Sunset looked out at the stars from his place at the helm of his ship. <We will make our course for that signal,> he ordered, making the necessary adjustments in his own console as he awaited his crewmates’ input on theirs. <But I also want to respond as quickly as we can. Lieutenant Spring Rain, alert Trila-Sercen that we will need his assistance to amplify our own communications.>
<I will tell him to prepare for us in the chapel,> the lieutenant answered, turning to his own console and typing instructions for the Suranese engineer to heed.
Two hours later, a psionic message blasted across space toward the originator of this most recent call: <We are Honorias. We are here, and we are coming.>