Fall of Rome & The Council of Constantinople [FT IC Open]

[Terraius]

Hello! Please refer to the OOC thread here before posting or reading. Thank you so much!

Roman Earth
System Roman-Sol
Beta Quadrant, Byzantine Segmentum I

---

---

The Rethast.

We thought their empire had been extinguished eons ago. We were wrong.

Long since the instigator of chaos and destruction in the galaxy, the most feared, vile beings to exist; allied with such demonic entities as the Chaos Imperium of Chronosia and the Death 'gods', they had existed as a thorn in the side of all Terrandom for centuries, and only continued to lay waste to those who they deemed inferior.

We had spent years, trillions of dollars in a mad frenzy to ensure that Rome was the most well guarded galactic entity in all of the universe. Ironiclly, we would not be destroyed from without, but from within, as our own people laid the groundwork for the invaders to come and do the unthinkable.

In 4037 Imperial Time, Rome was sacked and destroyed by a combined invasion force of Rethast and warp demons.

After nearly 5,000 years of existence, the Roman empire had fallen, and would have been permanently exterminated if not for the efforts of a single selfless ruler who left a dim hope of survival for what few lucky people might escape what has been dubbed as 'Dies Irae' -- the Days of Wrath.

---

Days of wrath, Days of mourning.
See fulfilled the prophets' warning,
Heaven and earth in ashes burning.

---

Justinian sat on his throne, eyes fixed on the massive open balcony looking over the city of Rome. The sky was eerily redish-orange from the smoke and battle. The stench of death was strong, as faint crackles of artillery and bombardment could be heard. Massive Roman warships up to a Kilometer long were crashed into the city, buildings crumbling, fires overtaking.

It was over, and there was nothing he could do. The Rethast and their demonic allies had overwhelmed the planet by sheer force, unchecked. The planetary defenses were non-existant as internal power struggles resulted in their disabling. The Roman milita and planetary guard was merely ceremonial, and the palace guard was nothing more then 'look-at-me' soldiers to begin with. Rome's military was deployed all over the galaxy. The defense of the Roman Solar system depended entirely on the defenses and the moon-fortress of Luna.

Trillions had been spent on defense. Trillions! Sending the Roman government to bankruptcy many times over. And the defenses were useless, merely toys for the invaders to smash when they were not busy burning or massacring Roman civilians. It was pointless to attempt to flee-- the planet was surrounded, not so much as a piece of rubble was going to make it past the blockade. What little remained of the Imperial Navy had been used to evacuate the citizens and run through the Rethast ships to escape to the Ottoman prefectorial capital.

Lord Malachias, Head Inquisitor, had attempted to take Justinian with him to flee the planet in hopes of continuing the Imperial dynasty. It was rumored that the Inquisition was behind the coup to outse the Senate and the clerics of Rome. It was not at all a major surprise; the Roman senate was notorious for being ostentatiously corrupt, and the clerics of Rome were nothing short of elitists. It was only a matter of time before one group or another grew tired of this and attempted to cut out the fat.

While the blame certainly rested on Malachias' shoulders for allowing the invaders to enter Rome, Justinian could not at all blame him. If the Rethast didn't sack Rome, soon the over-inflated government was going to drag the nation down to its own demise. At least the Rethast had been generous enough to offer a quick and painless death, sparing them the years of economic decline, famine, and disease. For this he could at least thank his enemies, but little more.

It had been almost 12 hours, and by now the planet was all but eradicated. The faint growls and clicking of demonic teeth and feet could be heard as the jewel prize was being encroached: the Imperial Palace. Overlooking the city of Rome, the invaders having killed every living thing they could were now on their way to ensure that the man that had been a thorn in the side of chaosium for too long would either surrender a slave or die.

Slowly but surely, a group of Rethast and demons stormed into the throne room, headed by the avatar-commander of the Pathogenic forces. Justinian simply remained staring out the balcony, slouched over his throne, chain smoking as usual. A faint, deep, demonic cackle could be heard as the commander slowly approached the throne.

"What's wrong Nero? Tired of fiddling while your city burns?"

Justinian remained silent.

"Hah. A man of many words and threats, yet now as we stand before, you remain silent. Ironic and utterly delighting."

Justinian would simply extinguish his cigar as he continued to gaze out.

"The war is over, Justinian. You lost. Rome is ours. Spare what little remains of your people and Empire, and surrender. You have my word that you will continue to exist as a servant to our cause with adequate accommodations."

Justinian would slowly rise, folding his arms behind him as he faced the Rethast face-to-face, approaching him.

"Over? This war will never be over. The epoch of Roman domination in Beta is over. We are simply one piece in a larger puzzle of a greater Byzantine-- and indeed, a greater galactic community as a whole. My death-- the death of my nation means nothing. Where one of us fall, another will take our place."

"I will slit your throat and drink the blood of every last Roman and Byzantine so long as I exist, mortal. Spare your people their suffering. Surrender yourself and we can negotiate a lasting peace."

"You lie poorly. It is the nature of evil to propagate evil. To think you can assure me that a lasting peace will ever transpire is foolish."

"Then you die."

"You wouldn't dare make a martyr out of me."

"You underestimate my capacity to disregard the lives of organics, Justinian."

Justinian shook his head, looking up to a picture of his father, Constantine.

"My father swore he would wipe the stench of your kind from the galaxy. He may have failed, but I will not."

The Rethast could only burst out laughing.

"With WHAT? Ruins and dead bodies?! Idiot, look around you. I. Have. DESTROYED. You. You are nothing, Rome is a shell, dust. Soon the flame of life will be extinguished, and darkness will reign in the galaxy. The pathogen spreads like wild-fire, and you are nothing to stop us."

Justinian sighed and leaned on his throne.

"I've done alot of bad things in my life, and I know I must pay for it. I've lead Rome through more bad times then good; But, if there's one thing I will never regret, it is this."

Justinian held out a small black box.

"I may perish here on this day, but my city-- my father's legacy, the legacy of our fathers before us-- the legacy of Rome will die with me, and along with it, will you. And my death will herald an era of holy vengeance the likes of which the galaxy has never seen before."

"You wouldn't -dare-."

"Te videbo in infero."

Justinian held out his arms and looked out over the city, as the dozens of demons and Rethast instantly charged towards him, in a mad attempt to flay him into organic mesh, but it was too late. He snapped the box in two, and with that, the eternal city entered its eternal rest.

[Terraius]

THE FALL OF ROME

In orbit over Roman Mars, outside the direct domain of Roman Earth

---

"See fulfilled the prophets' warning, Heaven and earth in ashes burning."

---

Lord Malachias fell on his knees as he watched the massive flare, what would have almost been mistaken as a supernova by astronomical onlookers, engulfing the planet of Rome. A massive wave of guilt overtook him, as he threw up on the deck of his Inquisition capital ship. He could not stop blaming himself in his head. Tears flooded his eyes and cheeks. He did not expect it to go like this. Not at all..

---

In 4036 AD/Imperial Time, Lord Gregorius perished, and his lieutenant, Malachias, assumed the position of Lord Inquisitor of the Byzantine Imperial Office, Holy Order of the Inquiry into Heretical Depravity. It was not long after that Malachias directed the Inquisition's efforts on searching for artifacts of power, which may have held the key to Rome's future and the legacy of Byzantium. Within six months of his searching, he was able to recover a Zoroastrian artifact known as the 'Celestial Orb of Zoroaster', or simply 'Celestial Codex'. It was an ancient holy relic containing databanks of hundreds of uncharted worlds as well as locations for the very first colonial projects of Old Holy Terra, as well as a map of Terra itself. Along with that, eons of manuscripts, religious prophecies, and other information.

It was a magnificent find, and with that, the grandeur of a new Roman epoch went straight to the head of Malachias. It was a generally accepted truth that the clerics of Rome and the Senate itself had been a bustling bastion of corruption since the days of Trajan on Old Terra. It was, however, something Malachias intended to correct, by a coup, a coup he would orchestrate with the most powerful and secretive cult in Byzantine: The Inquisition, the nearly million man strong hybrid-intelligence agency and religious holdout of extreme Islamic and Catholic zealotry which was tasked with the extermination of apostates, heretics, pagans, darkness, and anything generally threatening to the internal and external stability of the Byzantine state as a whole.

At the dawn of the new Imperial year, Rome saw an economic recession the likes of which had not been documented since the First Combine Wars, sending thousands jobless, without food and work, while the aristocracy sat on their 'pompous asses' as he liked to say, while the common man was made to suffer. It was an injustice that even the Pontiff was allowing. Convinced that the Church itself and Senate had gone astray, the Inquisition swore loyalty to Malachias, and vowed to outse the entire government, take Justinian to Byzantium, and reestablish a purist government and reforms.

If only it would work out so smoothly. The coup went as planned, however in the midst of it all, somehow the planetary defenses of Rome were knocked out of commission and distress signals were not transmitted to nearby colonies and garrisons for assistance. It was at this moment that a combined coalition of Rethast and the Demonic warp entities along with their Chaos cults, long looming and watching the Roman regime, banded together and invaded Rome without as much as a single rifle to stave them off.

Immediately, Malachias was forced to divert the efforts of the Inquisition to evacuating as many people as he could. While he was somewhat successful in ensuring that a good portion of the population made it out of planetary orbit while the Navy was still able to prevent a full blockade, the Emperor refused to leave, and instead declared to Malachias he would sooner die and burn Rome then let it fall to the hands of pagans and demonists. Malachias reluctantly acknowledged Justinian's wish, and left the only man he respected in the Roman government to his fate-- a fate which would soon be a rallying point for all of Byzantine and Terrandom.

Immediately, the vessels carrying the civilians scattered throughout the galaxy, fleeing to every nearby colony and planet they could to hopefully find refugee. Malachias and his officials, being the last remaining remnants of Roman governorship headed for Rome's long time ally and friend, the Ottoman Sultanate to seek assistance from the Sultan and to declare a Great Council to be held in Constantinople.

All across the galaxy, the faint and grim rumor that Rome had fallen spread like wildfire to Byzantine and non-Byzantine planets alike. As the Second Byzantine Era ended with the sack of Rome and the political power of the greater Byzantine realm extinguished, a neo-medieval age began. It may have been Malachias' actions that brought about the end of Rome, but he would do his best to ensure that his attempts were not in vain, and that some semblance of hope could be restored to the otherwise now rapidly declining Byzantine Empire, with economies crashing and governments becoming completely disorganized in the span of mere hours. Byzantine had less then a week before it would implode under the economic and political pressure that now rested on its shoulders. Only a Great Ecumenical Council of the entire Byzantine nation-- nay, the entire galaxy, could ensure that Byzantine would continue to exist.

[Terraius]

CALL TO COUNCIL

Planet Hacivat,
System Celaria
Alpha Quadrant, Byzantine Segmentum IV
'The Sultanate of the Ottomans'

---

Malachias' fleet warped into orbit over Hacivat, capital of the Ottoman Sultanate and seat of one of the Byzantine Emperors. He hurried along to land and make his way to the Imperial Palace of Padisha Axum Ustilia, Sultan and Senior Augustus of Byzantine. By now it had been nearly 2 days since the fall of Rome, and it was time for Malachias to stop loathing and to act; to establish his government in exile and regroup what little remained of the Roman regime.

Being escorted to the palace of the Sultan, Malachias awaited an audience, as he contemplated the next move. It was obvious that an emergency meeting had to be called; but not just any meeting. Not only had the time come for an Empire-wide forum of all senators and officials, but the time for reform and re-centralization was even more apparent, as the sack of Rome left a major vacuum in the political and economic sphere and Byzantine.

Awaiting to be granted an audience with the Sultan, Malachias dispatched a transmission to his right-hand, Felix Malleus, currently deployed to quarrel the rebellion and outbreak over Gillespie IV. Felix was his chief enforcer, and an even more feared Inquisitor then Malachias on his worst day. 'The Hammer of Byzantine' would ensure that the Holy Office consolidated power and ensured that any potential colonies who might get the idea of declaring independence in the wake of the fall of Rome would quickly fall into line obediently and maintain allegiance to Byzantine.

Malachias paced outside the palace awaiting word from the Sultan, holding the Celestial Codex close to his chest, muttering to himself.

[The Ottish Empire]

Hacivat; Celarian System
-Imperial Palace

Celaria was a bustling system, located squarely in the center of the Turkic-Sphere, of course this meant that ships often warped into the system, without precedence, merely to participate in Turkic economics. But the Romans were different, rather than the unarmored equipment transports the Ottomans were used to seeing, a new breed of ships had warped into the system, here and there bits of metal drifted away from the cruisers, the scars of a recent battle marked them entirely. The only distinguishing factor these ships held, was the Roman seal plastered on their hulls.

Axum, as Malachias, paced his room. Through all his squabbling in foreign affairs, and that outbreak on Gillespie, his intelligence offices, whom worked diligently night and day in the name of the Sultan, managed to overlook Rome. Where they should have been keeping watch, especially over one of the key figures to Byzantine power, they were instead intervening in foreign affairs, affairs that held little significance to the Ottomans, nor the Byzantines alike. Now a fleet of near destroyed Roman cruisers waited on his doorstep, containing the only remaining bits of the Roman Hierarchy.

The time for playing had passed, this was no longer a game of politics, but rather a fight to preserve the well-being of the entire Byzantine Empire. A knock at his door broke Axum from his thoughts,"Your majesty, the Roman Malachias grows impatient, he has already begun pacing and muttering to himself, he demands your presence," a tall woman peered in through the huge double doors. He was surprised, to say the least, they had traveled fairly quickly for a ragtag group of Roman cruisers, not only had they only just arrived in the system, they were already beating down his front door.

A mere nod, to acknowledge that he'd heard her, was all that the Sultan replied with. He was wholly unprepared to meet the Roman, how should he even introduce himself? Sorry about your burning empire, glad you could make it? No, he'd quarreled with himself long enough, it was time to set things straight. Axum rushed from his quarters, and nearly ran towards the lobby, nearly running the Roman down. The Sultan found himself frightened, no sooner had he arrived, that he had realized that his secretary was correct. This man was truly insane. He paced about his lobby, holding tight to some object, and rambling on in his Latin tongue.

"Er.. Mr. Malachias?" he now began to approach the man, unsure of how deteriorated his mental state truly was, "I am please to hear that you've made it here safely. May I offer you anything? Water, food, medical practitioners, quarters for the night...?"

[New Zepuha]

New Zepuha, Sinro City, Parlimant Bloc, Noble's Square
Imperial Chancellory Building

In his office sat the Chancellor of New Zepuha, Maxemellian von Auschlogen II, brother of King Kar von Auschlogen III. Tapping his pen on the royal oak desk a large storm system moved over the city. Like an omen of events to come, reports came streaming in from trade ships and Imperial Blockade runners about the Roman system. Recently and ordered recall of all Naval personnel to the home cluster was ordered. Any ship and man not guarding a key postion was to report to the home star cluster for the muster of the Imperial Armed Forces.

For the second time in the Imperium's history was a crusade risen by the Parliment. To oust an unholy and devious foe from the vaccum of space once again. The last conflict having left the Empire in ruins and down a good amount of men. This time the Imperial Guard was prepared to meet a new foe before it reached the Terra-Theta sector and ravaged the home planet. Whilst the troops began to flood into orbit around Earth III, a tremor went through the nation.

Never has such an enemy faced down the Imperial troopers and never has it been so close to home. New Zepuha had enjoyed an immunity from invasion until now, now it was all too possible. The Chancellor had informed the King that it was time to make ready for travel to Ottish lands.

Sinro City Spaceport

The king dressed out in his Naval uniform, shining and clinking with medals, made way for the royal transport. A simple Valkryie gunship of pure white and gold trim, chain gun encased in the golden head of a dragon. Set off out into the dark atmosphere of the plant up towards the Grand Battleship His Holy Light, a ship the size of Earth and Luna combined. Being the proud flagship of the Imperial Omega Fleet, housing Admiral Wilhelm von Keitel, commander of Omega Fleet.

Soon, the King was clanking his way to the private quarters across from the Admiral, a grand suite of many worldly comforts. His choice was to sit behind his desk and tap out a report to the Parliment. A gentle knock rasped his cabin door, and in stepped Admiral Keitel.

"Your highness, it seems that we are at war?"

"Willy, we are in private you may cut out the 'highness' crap for now."

Looking utterly stunned the Admiral simply shrugged his OD fatigues.

"Certainly, we are making headway for the Ottish capital at once, we should arrive within the day."

"Well then, inform the honor guard to be prepared to escort me down and have my bodyguards stand down, I'm a Byzantine leader in Byzantine land."

"Of course, shall I have dinner ordered up?"

"Yes yes, I have to think of what to say to the children."

With that the Admiral turned and began his tasks, the ship ploughing through warp streams with ease on the way to war.

[Terraius]

Malachias looked up. He could not contain himself. Half-insane, he fell to his knees, bursting into tears.

"Most holy and august Sultan and Emperor of Byzantine, have mercy on me. Rome has been sacked, and I failed to stop them. It is all my fault."

The Inquisitor began rambling in half-Turkish and Latin, not even comprehensible. Felix had arrived as soon as he could and was on the ground trying to calm Malachias and help him to his feet.

"Get yourself together, Malachias. Sulking in self-pity isnt going to make the situation any better. Come."

Felix would nod to the Sultan as he helped carry Malachias inside the palace, asking the servitors to fetch him water. Malachias being still in a state of anxiety, Felix spoke on his behalf. He would take the hand of the Sultan and bow, kissing the ring-seal of the Byzantine Emperor as was customary.

"Your greatness, I apologize for Malachias. He has had several nervous breakdowns. I am Brother Felix Malleus, Lord Inquisitor and deputy to Malachias. I fear that the rumors are true. Rome has been sacked and destroyed. Exactly two days ago during internal troubles, the planetary defenses went offline and the invaders took the opportunity to enter the planet and lay waste to our homes. I fear Rome is no more. We are what is left of the government. Aside from the two thousand Inquisitor ships in service, we have nearly two hundred ships full of military and civilian refugees which have either followed us or scattered."

Felix would help Malachias sit and collect himself. He would pull out his holopad and display an image of the Roman system.

"Unfortunately.. Justinian is dead. We tried to take him while we still had time to evacuate, but he refused.. from what we collect, he detonated a stockpile of Melta warheads and vaporized the planet's surface and orbit rather then allow it to remain in enemy hands. As it stands, Rome is not safe, either on the surface or in orbit. Our probes have been instantly vaporized upon leaving FTL warp. Our scientists have gathered that a massive Melta storm has developed and has engulfed the planet and its atmosphere in a perpetual hurricane, which is not to subside any time soon."

Felix would place the holopad back into his robe, shaking his head.

"We have lost contact with our military garrisons across the galaxy. Before the communications grid went down, we dispatched a message for all commanders to assume emergency executive authority and to enact defensive positions at all of our military outposts, garrisons, and colonies in the event that we are attacked elsewhere. Our communicators are struggling to bring the communications grid back online, but so far our scouts havent reported any other activity. We suspect that the invaders did not have any invasions plans past the conquest of Rome, and they merely took advantage of our defenses being offline.."

By this time, Malachias had settled down and began to speak softly and slowly.

"I should have known this would have happened.. the codex mentioned this, but I didnt believe it. I didnt. But its of no consequence.."

Malachias would slowly rise, placing the Orb in its protective case.

"Sultan, the very existence of the Byzantine Empire is at stake. We must convene a Council of all Byzantium and seek out any states willing to offer their support or aid. There is no time to waste."

Felix nodded.

"We cannot waste any time. We have no idea when or where we will be hit next-- and even if we are lucky enough not to be-- the collapse of Rome is bound to send Byzantine's markets into the black. We cannot afford another economic crisis; it will be the last straw to break this nation once and for all."

[Terraius]

TO: Letters patent / Open to the civilized galaxy
FROM: Roman Government in Exile
SUBJECT: Ecumenical Council of Constantinople

Brothers, sisters, friends and champions of peace and order,

Greetings,

This message is an emergency diplomatic dispatch to the known, civilized galaxy. At approx. 1200 hours two days ago, 4037 AD/Imperial Time, a major malfunction accorded within the Roman defensive infrastructure and was sacked and subsequently destroyed by foreign alien invaders, effectively ceasing the existence of the Roman state. It is with a heavy heart and sad conscious we report that not only has our leader and most of our government perished, but countless innocent civilian lives have been lost.

In the wake of this disaster, the Byzantine Empire is requesting the aid and support of neighboring powers and peoples, and requests your attendance at the Great Ecumenical Council of Constantinople to be held in the capital system of Byzantium, where the Byzantine Emperors will convene along with the senate and other officials to ensure all peoples and assets of Rome are properly aided, and that a major galactic crisis may be avoided in the wake of this disaster.

While disasters are unavoidable, the severity and scale of such a mindless slaughter of millions has left a massive mark on the hearts, minds, and souls of all Byzantine citizens. Economic and military turmoil has already erupted across our colonies and planets; but despite all the hard times to come, Byzantine remains stalwart and shall proceed together in peace, unity, and brotherhood, and stands vigilant in the face of the servitors of death and destruction.

To all of our Terran brethren: our common ancestry binds us together in an undeniable bond of fraternity. The human race despite losing our home world of Terra many eons ago and despite the inter fighting between ourselves over trivial matters, has remained a beacon of justice, humanity, and ultimately peace and order in the face of an otherwise inhospitable galaxy. Let us now come together in this time of crisis, to set aside our old grudges and hatreds, and band together as brothers sharing in the common glory that is mankind, so that we may persevere and emerge a greater light to the galaxy then before.

To all of our near-human and humanoid friends and allies: our ancestry may be far more distant, but nevertheless our common unity remains. Let us acknowledge our similarities and set aside our differences.

To the civilized, non-human galaxy: It times past politics were dominated by the division between 'Human' and 'Xeno', a time when war and destruction razed across the stars. Let us now come together and show that in these dark times even aliens can stand side-by-side with humans and display the qualities of a civilized and genuinely good people.

To our Byzantine brethren: Time is of the essence, and while we may stand vigilant and read for anything that may confront us, it is paramount that we come together and bond in the glory that is Byzantine, united in the spirit of the glorious Saint-Emperors Constantine and Heraclius.

God speed to you all, and galactic coordinates have been enclosed.

[The Ottish Empire]

Imperial Palace

Axum could hardly hold himself to stand, with the sudden confirmation of his worst suspicions, he fell back into a chair. He sighed heavily and held his head, "Today is a most grievous day indeed. I offer my dearest condolences for you, and your dead comrades," he stood up now and placed his hand on Felix's shoulder, "Please, I offer to you and your people residency within our humble lands."

The Sultan was now faced with a tremendous task, out there, somewhere in the galaxy there were Roman civilians fleeing in exile with no certain destination, they had to be recovered. Then of course there was the issue of reestablishing contact with Rome's military garrisons and colonies. Man power was short as was, what with the amassing forces about Gillespie and the armies being raised to engage Chronosian forces assaulting the Terran Alliance.

"Felix, you did mention that there were Roman civilians stranded out there, yes? They are our first priority, I will send word to the Pyrrus Military Station to begin sweeping every system between Rome, and Celaria for lost civilian ships," he paused then began pacing, "Next, we must reestablish contact with your colonies, and if need be, reinforce their positions. Of course, we'll need to enlist the help of several of your navigators to lead our forces to them."

A holo-pad now appeared in the Sultan's hands, and he quickly began typing out a message for the Pyrrus station. Almost immediately after he sent the message, a red blip illuminated the pad, " It also appear that the Zephuans have learned of your arrival, and have begun traveling here. We shall await their arrival, then continue with discussions from there. In the mean time, please, get some rest, the both of you, you truly deserve it."

Then Axum realized something, what was this Codex Malachias spoke of, and did he dare insinuate that he had knowledge of this collapse, and didn't try to prevent it? "Malachias, while I do not know of you personally, I have heard greatly of you from Justinian. Would you truly be bold enough to imply that you had full understanding of the situation, and rather sat back and watched your nation burn?!"

[Terraius]

Felix acknowledged the Sultan and retreated back to return to his ship to begin organizing searches and navigators to report to Ottoman cruisers. Malachias remained, still slightly in shock, and contemplating the question.

"Im afraid it is so, Sultan. I do not wish to be overly explanatory, but I will give you the basic idea. Last year when I assumed the office as Head Inquisitor of Byzantine, I sought after a legend-- what has been thought of myth, but has turned out to be real. When Holy Terra fell and mankind went into exile throughout the stars, a group of Zoroastrians escaped to a remote planet in the Alpha quadrant and took with them something known as the Celestial Codex-- a datasphere containing entire galactic charts of inhabitable worlds, mineral rich worlds, Holy Terra and the Solar system itself-- as well as age old prophecies and religious texts."

Malachias took out the Celestial Orb and showed it to the Sultan.

"Not only does the codex offer Byzantine a chance to colonize these worlds-- but it also offers a chance to enter Sol and perhaps one day, man will set foot on Holy Terra, and it will be a glorious neutral zone where all humans can come together to glorify our maker. But there was a catch. The codex mentioned that mankind's exodus from Holy Terra into the stars would bring with it grave consequences-- war, famine, and the like, which we have clearly seen in galactic politics for the longest time-- but it also speaks that if mankind is to ever return to Terra, that a great darkness would do everything in its power to stop us. I believe that Rome's bad fortunes rest on this prophecy, and that allowing myself to ponder on the idea of a neutral Terra for all mankind has brought it into motion."

Malachias would place the orb back in his robe.

"So desperate is mankind for peace and order that the concept wouldnt leave my head. Ontop of that, the sickening blight of corruption continued to grow in Rome, with senators and clergy alike abusing their power for personal gain. I wanted-- rather, the Inquisition-- wanted to restore stability to Rome and bring the corrupt officials to justice and to return power to the Emperor so that our vision may come to fruition. But alas, it is no more, as Rome lies in shambles and the fabric of Byzantine is on the verge of splitting."

[The Ottish Empire]

Imperial Palace

The grievous feeling the Sultan previously held, was now replaced with anger, and frustration. This man orchestrated a coup, against his own people, simply because he didn't like the way they conducted themselves!? This was treason, on all counts, and punishment was soon to be dealt, but not now, now they had bigger problems. With Rome all but eradicated Byzantine was left in a weak state of affairs. This was not the time to hold trials for grand treason, there was too much work to be done, "You are lucky that I am preoccupied dealing with a collapsing empire. When this finally ends, you will be placed on trial. And you, and any conspirators that assisted you, will pay for what you have done!" Axum held himself back from simply mauling the man, "Now begone! Assist Felix in his operations, or hide in your chambers, just leave my presence!"

Axum, lay back in his chair now. Massaging his brow, and hoping to wake up from this horrible nightmare. But the gruesome reality of this situation had already set in, and there were things to be done. Millions, possibly billions, of lives rested on how quickly and effectively aid is delivered, and more than one military instillation laid in complete isolation from the universe. With the Zephuan King so close to his borders, a military escort had to be built up immediately. Docking passes were to be drawn up, too much work to lie about and dream for a better tomorrow.

[Terraius]

Malachias shook his head frantically.

"You don't understand! I was powerless! The grid went offline, we couldn't do anything to bring it back up! I diverted my efforts entirely to saving as many civilians as possible. The grid.. I don't know what happened. It could have been sabotage or just bad timing, but all I know is that as soon as it went offline, the invaders came and wreaked their destruction."

Malachias gazed into the celestial orb.

"Maybe it was a prophetic declaration. It matters not. Whatever the case may be, no amount of our scrambling could have prevented this. Nothing could have; even if we did not attempt to arrest the senators and clergy for corruption, they still would have come. If nothing else, we were fortunate enough to be guided to Rome to be able to help evacuations, despite our intentions."

Malachias retreated to his quarters to pray and to contemplate. This orb had been more of a cursing then a blessing, but the information was priceless. He could not allow not one galactic charting or prophecy to slip from his grasp, less he not be able to plan three steps ahead; which was his currently mindset, to begin formulating a plan to vindicate the wrongs that occurred, whether he was at fault or not.

[New Zepuha]

His Holy Light Imperial Battleship en Route to Ottish SpaceKing Auschlogen climbing down through the main hatch in his dress uniform grumbled in his old age. Advancing down the stairwell the hatch dumped out to. Pausing to view a few Tech-Priests fiddling with a sparking control panel. Moving on before old Navy memories could seek to swarm him. Pressing his palm to a control panel he advanced slowly through into the communications bubble extended under the prow.

"Commander, hail the Ottish ground control ahead of time, we are leaving warp now." came his low german voice to the comms operators. Tweaking a few dials in the low green glow of the room, Tech-Priests set the hialing frequecies. Beneath red velvet robes, was a partly machine body of the Cult Mechanicus. They devoted their life to the Omnissiah, or the machine god, and operated all technology of the Imperium.

Admiral Keitel sat in his command throne watching the planet come into view. "Take us into high orbit, I want to be within a good range for the King's transmission." he commanded to his Nav. officcers. In the light of the planet many of the Sailors that had neve rbeen out of the home system gawked at the planet. Earning them a dark look and a slight chuckle from the Admiral as they hurried back to duty. Tapping a few keys out Keitel brought up his command screen observing all statistics of the ship. Making a few adjustments by tapping out commands on the holo screen, brining his beutiful craft into high orbit.

Code: Select all

This is King Auschlogen of New Zepuha, hailing Ottish ground control. We are currently breaking warp and begining high orbit above Ottia. We are requesting permission to shuttle to the surface. Awaiting your reply.

[The Ottish Empire]

Imperial Palace

Another red blip on his holo-pad assured the Sultan that the Zephuan Hierarchy had finally arrived. With little more than a quick tap, Axum had assured ground control that they held the right to land. "Bah, look at these robes, I must change immediately!" the Sultan rushed to his quarters and quickly dressed himself in a more formal suit. Essentially a typical suit, with the only added accessory being the tailored tie, which brandished the Ottoman flag on it.

After finishing the final touches on his suit, Axum rushed towards Malachias' quarters. As he drew close to the door, he held out his palm to the scanner. Satisfied with the DNA print provided, the door slid open, "Malachias, prepare yourself. The Zephuan leader has arrived, the shuttle for Byzantium shall leave within the next twenty-four hours," he grimaced as he eyed him head to toe, "And please, clean yourself up."

With that Axum departed the room, and finally the palace. Outside a small Imperial Taxi waited for him, "Take me to Ankara Intergalactic Spaceport, and hurry man! We have no time to dilly-dally!" The vessel rocketed off, making sure to follow secure presidential routes the Taxi reached the airport within fifteen minutes, providing enough time for the greeting party to set themselves up.

[New Zepuha]

Royal Shuttle Craft

As the royal valkryie decended towards the spaceport below, its golden edges gleamed in the suns light. King Auschlogen in his Royal dress uniform preparing himself as the craft gently fired its landing thrusters. The ramp clanged on the spaceports metal platform. Visored white helmets sat upon noble heads, royal white flak armour with golden trim. Their silver Aquilas shone on the right breast plates as six troopers trodded out the middle men being standard bearers. Holding the Royal Crest of the Double headed eagle and the emblem of the Inquistion opposite of it. The large I with the eyed-pyramid sat in regal sea-green.

King auschlogen trodded down the ramp his slight hunch prominent in his figure. Noticing the greeting party with a curt nod, a short assistant in red velvet robes, half his face being ocular machinary a large single mechanical arm extending from his hunched back. Following a close trail, Auschlogen came to a stop with his assistant a few feet from the greeting party, resting a crooked hand on his sabers golden hilt. "It seems I have met a fitting reception for the times." came his stern voice, laced with sagicisty. He stood prominant in his old age of 86, liver spots forming under his thining gray hair.

[Huerdae]

Noble Rome and her Colonies,
- Roman Government in Exile -

The Star Empire has always been a nation that recognizes strength in the galaxy, and while our policies have not always been found to align, we do not have any desire to stand idle as a nation which provided stability in a large region of the galaxy endures its death throes. We cannot promise to halt the process, nor will we state that any actions we partake at this time will be anything but what benefits the interests of the Star Empire. There can be no promises that we can preserve your nation as it existed, but we can attempt to preserve your people, in some manner of being. It has always been our policy that the weak will perish before the strong, and that those who cannot maintain and control their holdings should be stripped of them.

Despite these things, I find it difficult to send anything more than a single group of warships to your doorstep. The distance they must travel, and the amount of protection and control that would be needed to be afforded makes our ability to maintain those very holdings difficult. The burden of your people cannot be left to the 'gentle' graces of the galaxy, and I believe we can both agree on that matter. If this is your final hour, then let us be sure that you face that hour doing as all nations should - with the lives and care of your citizens in mind. Let us both dispense with the vanities of pride, nationalism, and base racism. These concepts have always driven us apart from each other, and not just between our two nations, but between our very people. There is no longer any room for disparity between our non-human members and yourselves. You must remember that all nations, and all peoples of the Star Empire came forth to assist you in this time of your need. They are sympathetic to your plight, but they are our citizens, and we will not allow them to be mistreated.

Battle Group Phoenix is being dispatched under the leadership of colonel Mah'Ahrrir "The Red". In his formation there will be several other officers of interest to you, including delegates from the Huerdaen Rethast, the Ikittitl Colonies, and the Kaskan survivors. These peoples will represent the Star Empire to you, and while their contributions may vary, we expect to come to some accord over the future of your nation in the coming meeting. By our estimation, the journey will take nearly 19 days to complete. We do not know what we will find when we arrive, but we endeavor to bring safety to your peoples, and possibly a chance at renewed life. It will be your actions that choose what form that takes.

With All Due Respect,

Vlais'Nakado, Son of Bil'Nakado of Pantos and Ilissa Nakado of Olosia
Emperor of the Huerdaen Domain, Master of the Pankrees Nation, King of the Colonies of the Ikittitl, Prime Minister of the Ataster, Lord of the Rethast, Guide of the Tribal Union, Knight-Protector of Bludheim, and Savior of Alstania, Master of the Kaskan survivors

[Terraius]

Malachias stood holding the dispatched message in his hands. His eyes remained fixed on a single sentence which he kept reading over and over.

'including delegates from the Huerdaen Rethast, the Ikittitl Colonies, and the Kaskan survivors.'

'including delegates from the Huerdaen Rethast,'

'Huerdaen Rethast'

His eyes twitched slightly as the words resonated in his head.

"At least the minions of the void have class enough to offer us condolences for burning our planet."

Felix, despite the typical hatred for all things chaotic and slimy, was mildly amused by notion.

"Hmm."

Malachias, obviously, was not. But his handy-man was always a better act for classiness and diplomacy. After all, being the butcher of billions, one had to know how to talk to people to weasel their way out of a condemnation.

"It's no secret the Star Empire has been a long-standing ally with the Rethast and other factions of ill-repute. It's the nature of the Huerdaen to want to watch the galaxy burn. An absolutely gloomy place from what our field agents report to us. I suppose if I lived in that domain I would have the mad urge to destroy all life myself."

Malachias could only offer dagger eyes.

"Your humor is not appreciated in this otherwise dire situation, brother Felix."

"Yes, well," he would pause, "Our homes are destroyed, a majority of our homeworld population is gone, and our military is in shambles, barely able to maintain communication with eachother. At this point in time, typical Roman arrogance would do us no justice. I suppose its time to just laugh and suck up our pride while we try to sort through this mess and hope we can come out with a drop of dignity to our names."

Malachias would throw the missive on his desk and rub his foreheads.

"At least they are being civil and offering some aid. We cant really ask for anything more then that, you know."

"Yes yes."

"Besides, look on the good side, At least the Rethast did us a favor and managed to exterminate the senate and clergy, so we saved a good portion of money arresting and imprisoning them."

"Ah yes, how generous of them. We should send them a gift basket and thank-you notes."

"Good idea. Makes us seem civil as well."

Malachias could only roll his eyes and grind his hands into his face.

[Nationalist Tantalus]

Location: New Mesopotamia Ia [Moon], New Mesopotamian System; Tantalan Sector
Time: 18:24:36 (Tantalan Adjusted Time); 23-06-2712 Tantalan Standard Calendar

Deep within the confines of the Reclaimer's nanotube-reinforced bridge loomed Kaiser Alyxis (Alexyl) Turis and his fidgeting cohort- Ambassador Wilick B. Conley. Both men bore expressions of indifference as they supervised the dozens or so NCOs manning the helm, navigation post, and numerous other systems: First, there was this damned virus outbreak on that backwater world named Gillespie IV or something, and now the Byzantine heartland was under siege according to what limited intelligence the Bureau of Foreign Intelligence could gather amid the chaotic Sacking of New Rome, as the agents dubbed the fuzzy invasion. None had known, however, of the impending coup which usurped Justinian's occupation of the throne; nor did anyone know why contact with the Tantalan agents amid what amounted to a sizable population vanished in a sudden moment. That said, Tantalan Royal Navy forces were on high alert back in the Tantalan sector in direct response to the intelligence "blackout" between the BFI and the handful of spies deployed upon Roman soil.

---

"Initiating Standard Warp Mandate Alpha-0023.459. All personnel are required to secure themselves in a nearby fixture. Failure to do so may result in serious injury or death," an overhead klaxon-speaker within the hangar interjected. Such a reminder, though, proved only to be redundant, for most of the troops in the hangar were seated after having completed preparations for an emergency FB-33 Fighter-bomber detachment should the unknown dare to interrupt the meeting. Spare XLM-4300 particle accelerators, depleted Uranium-Plutonium fuel rod containment shells, and an assorted cesspit of worn ceramic tiles, polymer-shielding, and disposable neon-orange HAZMAT suits laid within the confines of a wooden crate sitting aside one of the FB-33 Fighter-Bombers. Upon a lesser crate sat two HAZMAT-suited soldiers at attention with their rifles drawn across their laps, their alert eyes keen on watching the closed hangar-main corridor blast-door which lined the opposite end of the hangar: In spite of having completed their decontamination duties, the soldiers were positioned so as to conform to certain classified protocols concerning hangar-security details during high-level crises.

---

Trailing behind the Reclaimer were two additional ATE-2200 Assault Carriers, each of which bore three eight-unit FB-33 Fighter-Bomber squadrons primed for immediate action should Kaiser Turis's Carrier fall under siege by an assailant. Nearby, the starry background appeared to shimmer briefly before the four Assault Carriers launched forth with all Alcubierre Drives activated, leaving behind nothing save for the faint trace of quantum "exhaust". The Kaiser's detachment was en route to the meeting as per the Bureau of Foreign Intelligence's suggested schedule.

[New Vaduz]

New Vaduz City, Empire of New Vaduz

Perhaps the most underdeveloped of all the Byzantine territories, New Vaduz rested lazily somewhere in the void between past and present. It was one of the old-fashioned countries, with little of the flashy high life of what had come to characterise the day's great kingdoms. Experience was basic and simple, with the people living close to nature, as they always had, to family life, to straightforward and honest principles.

Vaduzians were proud of their achievements, especially the glass and marble factories which produced magnificent masterpieces. It was part of what this quiet, conservative, populace had built with their own sweat and blood, and their happiness to be accredited for it was one paralleled only by their great love for their own culture.

The decision to join the Byzantine Hegemony had never been regretted, and many citizens liked to think of themselves as members of a much larger body than their own, one with which they would commit themselves, through harsh times as well as stable ones.

Emperor Alexius Komnenus had become more of a quiet, retiring, figure as his age advanced, preferring to commit to paper his philosophy for solving political problems rather than make as many public appearances as he had in his younger days. But he had always been the same man in the short thirty-eight years since his coronation. His eyes still had that sly gleam which had won the heart of the people, though his hair had gone nearly white. When Alexius spoke his face displayed his character, and when he saw the need to do so he always talked in calm, measured, tones - those which commanded so much authority when needed.

But today....even for Alexius IV of New Vaduz, an even head seemed nearly out of reach.

The tears would come later, he knew, as he sat attired completely in black robes and a cheerless cloak which hardly went well with his normally majestic appearance. But now was not the time for decent or good men to celebrate, it was a day of great sorrow, of mourning, when the monarch could be expected to do as his ancestors did when they forsook their purple for sackcloth and prostrated themselves before the cross.

It was another dark day as the aged imperial clutched the terrible communique in his hand which had brought news of Rome's destruction. She had gone out in a blaze of glory, her foes being denied the privilege of planting their satanic banners permanently through her vitals - yes, Rome had died hard, and had chosen a heroic end. But she had been raped nevertheless, violated by Byzantine's greatest enemies, and as God judged his actions, Alexius would sooner be struck down and consumed by worms as the evil Herod than fail to avenge this inexcusable atrocity.

By St. Irene, somebody would pay in blood.

Justinian was dead, and it was as much as for his fellow prefect as the doomed planet that the Vaduzian ruler felt sorrow for. He had already ordered his entire nation into a state of mourning, but had held his own jeweled Bible high as he did so. For no citizen was to wail like wicked pagans, but rather pray for the Romans who had narrowly escaped total oblivion and for the souls of those who hadn't.

Alexius remembered young Justinian, recalled the day of their first meeting, when his eyes sparkled and his mouth had twisted into a gentle smile as the other man had received him so warmly. It was truly a breath of fresh air to meet a leader who had the courage to put the interests of his country first, and the simplicity, sincerity, and quiet determination which the latter had displayed would forever remain as an unforgettable experience. By the estimation of all New Vaduz he had been a true Roman, who had ruled justly with honesty as well as dedication, one who could always be relied on to stand by his word.

Now he was gone, gone like the ash which remained of his beautiful homeland. Put to rest for eternity.

Frederik Malerjobe, visibly pale and ill at ease, cowered in the corner. For days in the calamity's wake his emperor had said little, had merely shut himself in these chambers of his palace, refusing to see anyone or even respond to the letter calling for the Council of Constantinople. He only muttered darkly to himself and the chief advisors who surrounded him, and Malerjobe had rather swiftly learned that it was far more profitable to himself and his position to simply hold his tongue.

"This is nothing short of 1204 once again," Alexius had said quietly. "The heretics clambering at the walls, and Byzantium's jewel taken by storm - not by the might of their opponents, but rather by treason! Treason so black it stinks in my nostrils."

Malerjobe had recognised the reference to the Fourth Crusade immediately, and knew what all the men of New Vaduz's dynastic line thought about that Greek traitor, Isaac, who had brought the Franks to the gates of Constantinople for his own selfish gain. He had soiled the Komnenus title, he was a traitor to his nation and his clan.

Now, surrounded by reports which had only just confirmed that all of Rome had been utterly wiped from the face of the universe, the empire's Faithful Basileus and Autokrator placed his head in his large, calloused, hands.

"I am old, Frederik. And I am weary. But I never thought I would see this day. It hardly seems possible that it could have all been taken from us with one sweep."

The aide nodded, careful to retain his own silence. After several moments of still, Alexius seemed to regret the statement, made in a moment of emotion, and immediately recovered himself.

"Our past casts a long shadow, I will not deny that. But perhaps the bright light of the future will help dispel it." The emperor stroked his beard as he glanced vacantly at the notice marked boldly with the topic, 'Ecumenical Council of Constantinople'. "I cannot stay here any longer. It is my duty to go and do what I can, for the sake of the old galactic order if nothing else. No fleets or large military detachment. I wish only that my private liner and the necessary escort set out for Byzantium immediately."

"Yes, Basileus."

Malerjobe bowed and hurried to comply. The fate of Byzantine would hang in the balance of this conference, he knew, and his lord couldn't afford not to be in attendance.

[The Drone Empire]

Cassius Major
Capitol of the Drone Inter-Galactic Colonial Program

Being one of the more controversial, shady members of the Byzantine Galactic Empire, The Drone Empire normally had little regard for the internal affairs of their fellow members with the exception for when it concerned them. This was largely the case with the fall of Rome, as the political instability generated gained great attention, and the Drone Empire was truthfully only interested with the B.G.E so long as they benefited from it's existence.

Of course, they wouldn't simply pull out at the slightest taste of failure, so they would do what was necessary to preserve it, as it was in fact quite useful. Rome's destruction was somewhat expected, what with such internal problems that throttled the Roman Empire. How it occurred after all, though, certainly was not. The Rethast were unfamiliar to the Drones, they being from a foreign Galaxy which has never heard of such a thing. Now vaguely acquainted, they would be sure to deploy more vital military forces to the region, all that they could supply due to the instability of their own Galaxy where a strong military was necessary in case conflict erupted.

While this went on, C.O.U [The Colonial Overseer Unit] was tasked with attending the "Council of Constantinople", held in response to this event. Incapable of empathetic expression, he felt no sadness, no regret nor contempt for the events leading to the council. He simply saw it as an unexpected turn of events which brought about the inevitable fall of a failing nation. Now he needed to aid in preserving the entity it was once a part of. From the tall spires of the Imperial Palace, he overlooked the never ending scape of urban structures that covered the interior surface of the synthetic planet.

The white-purple light from the massive, spherical core at the planet's center illuminated the room in a melancholy grey, due to the tinting of the thick glass. His spherical metal body hovered from the window towards a large console which dominated the space. Observing the tall screen, two thin wires snaked their way into two tiny holes, which would link him up to the planet's Artificial Intelligence Transfer Network [AITN]. A chime confirmed his connection, and small, articulating arms grabbed a hold of his spherical console.

"Uploading Data from port 0000-001-A to port 0021-0103-A...", the bright red glow of his single ocular sensor faded to darkness, and the wires became a bright green as data flowed through them.

Entering the network, he was quickly transferred to his port, located within his personal escort vessel; "The Marcova Daedrianna", a modified Assault Carrier. Exiting through identical wires into a smaller body hanging from a robotic arm, C.O.U lit up the once empty shell when his data flooded into it. The mechanical arm released him in his more mobile form, as the wires retracted into him once again. With his transfer, the vessel detached from it's dock, in orbit of Cassius Major. The planet from this viewpoint appeared lush and riddled with life, all of it was fake, to serve as a ruse to discourage any possible attackers that this world was inhabited.

The vessel distanced itself from it's orbiting dock. C.O.U entered the coordinates of Byzantium, as the large vessel adjusted itself accordingly. The drones aboard prepared for entrance into GhostSpace, a unique dimension in which short distances within it cover light years in RealSpace. In seconds, the drives were ready. The 'Marcova Daedrianna' sped up rapidly before disappearing in a flash of bright purple light.

They would arrive in a matter of minutes. An Imperialis Veta B Class Transport Shuttle was ready in it's hangar for C.O.U to board, along with fellow Drones and A.I that would be attending the Council. When the Marcova. D arrived, they'd land.

[Terraius]

Lo, we poor mortals; the city of heaven has fallen!
O Constantine! O Theodosius! O Caesar! O Octavius!
The city which you hath built has fallen to the barbarian, the heathen!
Are ye not on thine knees pleading to our lord? Are we just to loath defeated?
Surely he will grant us justice, for a grave crime it hath;
Beg to our lord that he dispense his holy wrath!
Rome hath fallen, mighty indeed,
Will our lord not supply our needs?
Lo, we poor mortals; the city of God has fallen.

---

'THE CITY WHICH CONSTANTINE HATH BUILT'
Inscription on the Byzantine Imperial Palace on the christening of the planet,
during the reign of Roman Emperor Constantine XXXVI and Hellenic Emperor Heraclius, 4032 AD,
the site of the Treaty of Byzantium establishing the Hegemony between Greece and Rome.
It is the document that would change the course of the galaxy forever.
It is also the site where the Roman Empire would be officially declared dead,
only two years after the civil war that overthrew Heraclius and sent Megas Hellena into civil war.

---

The Planet-City of Constantinople,
System Byzantium
Beta Quadrant, Byzantine Segmentum I (Primus Byzantium Ultima)

---

Constantinople.

Like Rome before it, it was a city and a planet; spreading to every corner on the Terranized planet. It was known for being mildly temperate year round, with light rains on a regular basis. It was the perfect planet to establish an empire, being deep behind the defensive military lines of the federation, as well as sporting a planetary defense guard which in and of itself was a formidable force: it was reckoned at one time that the Byzantine Army and Naval guard was an even larger force then the Carthaginian Empire during its peak military output in the great galactic skirmish known as the 'Punic wars'.

Although it might be dubbed overkill to some, the Byzantine stellar system was the absolute center for the empire. Although the Byzantine Emperors were usually never there, instead ruling their individual member-states on a day-to-day basis, the entire Administratum Byzantium, the million man office of the empire, operated on the planet, as well as the Byzantine Senate which met regularly during the year. Even the Imperial Church, which was incharge of governing and maintaining millions of churches and mosques had its headquarters there. The Islamic Caliph and Supreme Byzantine Pontiff made their homes on the planet. The only office of governance that did not reside directly in Constantinople was the ever elusive Inquisition which only occasionally visited the planet, and even those visits were purely protocol and ceremonial.

Trillions-- literally 5.56 trillion as of the 4035 Imperial Byzantine Census-- of people depended on the massive governing apparatus of Constantinople. Without it, communications would break down, colonies would starve, and entire fleets of ships and legions of soldiers would be without a central command. This is why the planet was kept under such heavy guard, possibly the most well guarded rock in the universe. The Fall of Rome did nothing to ease the tension already placed on the shoulders of the planetary governor, who had the burden of overseeing things in the city. Despite all of this, however, the planets operations continued to run smoothly, and indeed, the entire Byzantine realm was kept for the most part functioning despite an ever looming economic and political collapse since the fall of Rome all those days ago.

However, the massive metropolis would do good in easing the tensions of its visitors. Despite the splender of Rome which had crumbled, Constantinople's skyline towered even higher, its government buildings even bigger, and the Byzantine Imperial Palace, the literal heart of the empire, was dubbed by modern historians as 'a temple worthy of God himself.'

Indeed, the Imperial Palace sported massive statues and Romanesque architecture, as well as Gothic styling and interior. The Imperial Cathedral and subsequently the Imperial Mosque which sat less then 5 miles from the palace were only half the size, if that; and that is if one is counting the height of the minarets on the mosque or the belltower spire on the Cathedral. Put together, they would barely match its size, but the palace was oversized for a reason, as the typical Graeco-Roman mindset of efficiency, discipline, and administration prevailed to ensure that no single corner of the building would ever be overly crowded and that ever single record that or needed to exist could be filed with ease. And, of course, the typical Graeco-Roman mindset of lavish style and Imperial grandeur also prevailed, as it was felt the need to emulate the very Kingdom of Heaven.

The City was so powerful, so striking, that it is a folktale that the mere site of the planet caused the native pagan humanoids from the colony Wartum to immediately embrace Byzantine culture, language, and even convert to monotheism, smashing their pagan idols and demonic gods in favor of Christianity and Islam, the two officially tolerated and supported Imperial cults.

This was indeed the city which Constantine had built, but now the empire that relied on its existence was crumbling around it.

---

"It is human nature to cry out against cruel fate, rather than hang their heads and succumb to defeat;
But ultimately it will be our hand which will dispense justice."

---

Malachias stood at balcony of the Imperial Palace, recently arrived from Ottia. He had left late in the night as to avoid the oversight of the Sultan. Felix stood beside him as their peered at the rising sun in the distance, casting its faint light over the planet. Such the inequities of Rome had been, internally and externally. But to fall to the chaos hoard; truly God would not allow it; but if he did, would he not offer his people a chance to repent and turn back to him? Or were they to be the bastards of the whore of Babylon, to hide their heads in shame?

He could only shake his head at the thought. Felix looked over towards him, noticing his frustration. Slowly he nodded and walked inside, leaving Malachias to his thoughts. The conversation they had last night on the way to Byzantium resonated with him, as he pondered the words his old friend had said to him. Below him, he could see the hundreds, if not thousands, of citizens parading around dressed in full black, people ripping their tunics and robes, wailing and screaming to heaven. The moans and lamentations of the Byzantine citizens was unbearable, blotting out even the sound of the thousands of ships in the skyline that came and went. God had allowed the chaos hoardes to take Rome; was Constantinople next?

He couldn't bare the idea. All that was left was to wait for the other members of Byzantine, and any members of the galaxy that would wish to attend to arrive. He watched the horizon.

[Nationalist Tantalus]

Kaiser Turis's convoy arrived shortly after as the four-ship detail deactivated their Alcubierre Drives near the habitable zone of the Byzantine system. The four vessels were locked in a planar-diamond formation as they slowly turned toward the Constantinople city-world with considerable agitation: After all, there were no guarantees that this system would not suffer an ambush as hinted by the BFI's inklings of the Roman Crisis, and Kaiser Turis's convoy could only deal with protecting the Tantalan Kaiser.

---

"Estimated time until arrival: Five minutes."

The sensor-activated proximity alert repeated itself every seven seconds or so to the annoyance of both Ambassador Conley and Alyxis Turis. "G'grief!" Conley uttered as his ears twitched to the foray of noise around the bridge. Kaiser Turis only shook his head slightly as he glanced around the bridge from his throne: Looking down from the observation deck, one would be able to notice a team of two-dozen petty officials quietly supervising parameters of multiple necessities. The helmswoman grimaced as her HUD-panel indicated a vector-change mandating for a course adjustment. To the female helmsman's left flank stood the navigator in his gyroscopic Virtual Reality navigation console, who was analyzing previous flight patterns from prior missions involving the Reclaimer's Inertial Guidance System so as to adequately prepare for the worst-case scenario of an escape.

Near the aft of the bridge stood Admiral-General Lorosovo and her numerous holo-screen devices indicating the statuses of each mission console. The senior-ranking woman pursed her mundane lips as her eyes swept across the proximity-alert panel of her console. "This is General Lorosovo to all Tantalan Royal Naval personnel: Brace yourselves, for we are in Close-range Approach!"

Kaiser Turis sighed with indifference as his eyes watched the looming jewel of Constantinople engulf the observation deck's background. "Ambassador Conley, gather the Admiral-General's cabinet, and proceed to the transport storage bay."
"Yessir!" The Ambassador turned to nod at Kaiser Turis before he sprinted off from his seat to the bridge's sole elevator. Alexyl Turis only sighed with boredom as he watched numerous proximity-alert screens pop up in multitudes across his own monitor. The Tantalans were here, and they were to stay for the meeting.

---

The Sacrament, a PCT-10 cargo transport retrofitted with lead-tungsten hull plates atop the standard nichrome-carbon nanotube hull structure, began its descent after disengaging from the Reclaimer's hangar. Subhull heat-sinks groaned with stress as the Sacrament endured the pounding forces of the Byzantium atmosphere during its descent to the Tantalan-reserved landing zone lined with approach signal lamps, friction-resistant duracrete tiling, and a Roman spaceport terminal which would feed into Turis's temporary destination.

[The Ottish Empire]

Ankara Intergalactic Spaceport

The Sultan simply nodded solemnly at the Zepuhan king's notion. While times were indeed harsh, and the imminent collapse of the Byzantine Empire was just on the horizon, the Ottoman Empire was entering a new golden age. Being mostly sovereign, and acting on her own rules, and imperialist views, the empire managed to contract a large amount of wealth, allies, and colonies, which would preserve her influence for generations to come. The Ottoman currency was performing exceptionally well, more so than it has in the previous thousands of years that its been in circulation, combined. So a large greeting party was to be partially expected, at least.

The wrinkled man that stood before him was a shadow of his former self. The National Museum of Byzantine Culture provided paintings, and images of all the emperors and leaders in their youth, and the contrast from image to Real Life was extraordinary. It was almost as if he was looking at a whole new person. Axum approached the man and placed a single hand on his shoulder. "I understand that the times may seem harsh, but we have much greater things to worry about than a large welcoming committee," he motioned towards the taxi that had escorted him to the port, "Unfortunately, time is not with us, and we must depart for Byzantium fairly soon. But I have arranged that we visit the most illustrious sects of the city along our trail to the Imperial shuttles. So if you would please follow me to the vehicle, we could be on our way."

Axum took a seat on the far left of the vehicle, effectively securing a window seat for himself. He couldn't stand being crowded in such a small vehicle, and the window was the only form of escape he could manage. As the part entered the vehicle, it shot off through the commercial center of the city. Axum paid no intention to the party's reaction, whether they'd be shocked at the economic development, or bored of seeing the same old thing, he focused solely on the speech he would inevitably be giving at Byzantium. Of course by now the apocalyptic theorists were gathering in the streets, chanting and warning of a fiery end, all triggered by the public announcement of Rome's fall just moments ago. Chanting and screams ensued, entire public squares were even reserved by private companies to organize mass prayers. It was a sad sight indeed, but one that he'd grown accustomed to, when he first came to office this was a typical sight, riots were even occurring, at least the rioting had sense ceased.

The diplomatic yard came into full view, and soon the car was pulled up alongside a large diplomatic vessel. The committee took a brief stroll down a narrow passageway then boarded the vessel via insulated, and pressurized walkway. As each man and woman took their seat and became securely strapped in, the shuttle rocketed out of the planet's atmosphere, and soon found itself warping towards the Byzantine district.

Planet Byzantium

The shuttle had made land-fall early in the morning. So early that the loud engines awoke many unsuspecting civilians, and merited cries of outrage from the streets below. Yet there cries went unheeded and the loud shuttle continued its descent, not stopping until it was fully docked on the planet. As the shuttle docked completely, the crew within departed the shuttle for the final time, until the conference ended that was.

Axum felt no indifference toward the planet and its industrialization. Such a waste of natural resources, the planet might as well be dead. The air was synthesized and fake, nothing compared to that of Hacivat, whose green lush forests still dominated much of the planet. The towers, though tall and majestic as they were, were too large and bulky for his tastes, but he couldn't complain. If anywhere, he would choose to be here over his native Hacivat, mainly because of the protection it allowed. No matter how large the Empire got to be, and no many how many allies she gathered, there were still dark forces threatening the stability of the Empire itself.

The Ottoman committee began making its way towards the imperial palace. Axum knew the place well, having had made multiple diplomatic visits in his reign. As far as he was concerned, this was no different than every other time. Already he could pick out the Tanatalan and Drone ships, whose markings and designs he'd become all too familiar with. He smiled as he drew nearer and nearer to the palace, it had been too long since his last visit, and the changes were quite obvious, but it was still the same building at heart.

The same guards still watched the doors ever vigilantly, and upon confirmation of his status, opened the doors for him, and his staff.From there he was directed, and occasionally misdirected, towards the conference room.

[Austerland]

Deleted.

[New Zepuha]

Ottish Capital City
Karl nodded grievously understanding the situation at hand. As a full mobilization of the New Zepuhan PDF was in motion as was mobilization fo the Navy as a precaution. The fact that an enemy was able to wipe out one of many great military groups had Zepuhans worried and anxious. Not since the first Z-plauges had they faced a foe of such strength. Especially not some group of warp spawned filth.

Karl followed Axum into the taxi letting it take him away towards the center of the city. Trying to keep his uniform in place he took his pickelhaube off and sat it on his old knee unclipping his saber to set it to the side. "Well, it seems that we must get to our... means of defence and begin discussions with our brothers." he said relaxing into the seat of the taxi sighing slowly. " I only hope we can come to some sort of plan for response, I have ordered the mobilization of defence forces but not the full military incase of incursions upon our soil until we can solidify a plan." his eyes locked ahead as his cold gray eyes pondered the road ahead.

Indeed the road would be one of long hardship, and that was nothing new to his people. They had fought for everything they had and fought themselves for it aswell. They weren't afraid of a war and infact had been itching for a reason to fight for some time. The Gillispie conflict was not enough to sate the war crys of the people. They had to have a full scale war, something that would bring about large casualties and military glory for the Imperium of Man. this proved to be the first chance they would get, and the first test of the Holy Adeptus Astartes.

The thoughts of the King were not known to anyone but the assistant in the front seat. The economic situation was the same, growing and expanding welathy happy citizens, very low unemployment. Things couldn't be better back in the home system of the Imperium. At the moment riots were being quietly put down, and secret police undermining demonstrations against the government. A few had broken out into violence killing 2 officers and 23 civilians leaving 30 wounded. Other than a few trouble spots of civil unrest the world was all and good in the eyes of the King. Or so we thought.

[Terraius]

Malachias stood on the steps of the Imperial palace, leaning against one of the stone monolithic pillars. A massive procession of hysterical citizens from all corners of the Empire paraded down the streets carrying torches in the now dusk-cast skyline of Constantinople. Priests clad in cassocks swung thuribles of incense and held out gospel books for the faithful to kiss. Turks and Arabs from the Sultanate district stood on the corners frantically preaching Jihad and invoking God's retribution. The range of emotions was soul shaking.

As Malachias ventured back into the Imperial palace, he had been updated that most if not all of members of Byzantine were now represented as the heads of the Imperial states assembled. Malachias would not stick around to greet them all personally, and instead sent Felix to summon them all to the main audience chambers of the palace. Malachias would instead venture to the office of the Ecclesiarchy.

It was in this oddly placed building a few blocks from the Imperial palace where the secular administration of the church resided. Since the church was incorporated into the empire, it had been the duty of the Eccleasiarchy to oversee upkeep and distribution of taxes to support the only two tolerated cults: Islam and Christianity. It was also where the Patriarch of Constantinople and the Caliph of Arabia met to oversee administrative tasks when not tending to the spiritual needs of their communities.

Being the pompous Lord Inquisitor that he was, Malachias walked in and bypassed securities measures to ascend to the top floor of the building. It was there the two men who held supreme and undisputed control over the trillions of Byzantine souls resided. At the top of the spire, the two men sat discussing the events that had befallen the imperium and the course of action to take as Malachias entered the room, almost akin to a corporate office, less the corporate taste.

The two would rise slowly as Malachias fell on his knees, head bowed. He would await them to approach before kissing their rings and being granted permission to arise.

"Fathers," he would say with a slight tilt of his head, getting up to his feet. "The council is assembling, and the Church is expected to participate. When might we expect the clergy?"

Patriarch Aloysius looked him over carefully before speaking. "Soon, our son. Soon. For now, we must speak."

"Your servant is at your disposal."

The Caliph Suleman, an elderly man with greying hair, terrifying eyes and demeanor, but the ever kind and soft-spoken would address him next.

"Malachias, we are under the assumption that the entire clergy of the diocese of Rome was killed in the invasion, yes?"

"That is correct."

The two men looked at eachother, only confirming their previous dispositions. Suleman would finally speak up after a somewhat awkward silence.

"Malachias, this places us in a predicament. Firstly, the Patriarch must assume the duties of the Bishop of Rome and furthermore as Supreme Pontiff of all Byzantine churches. Secondly, it has traditionally been the church's duty to crown the Emperors. As such our authority rests upon dispensation of the crown, and forces us to decree that since no Caesar was appointed under Justinian, that the throne of Rome must remain vacant until an alternative can be found."

"I understand, my lord," Malachias would reply, head hung low, resonating on the thought of Justinian's death.

"However there must be someone to wield practical authority in this uncertain time. It is therefore that we have agreed to allow you to act as both Emperor and Consul of Rome in the mean time. As Head Inquisitor of the Byzantine Holy Office and the highest ranking native Roman to have survived, you are the only person that can be trusted with governing the remnants of the Roman people."

"It is my only wish to serve God's representatives in the galaxy, my lords. I humbly accept the charge."

"We also understand the situation that the Holy Office was provoked into before the crisis," Aloysius said after a brief moment. Malachias opened his mouth to speak in his defense, but before he could, Suleman cut him off.

"It was no secret that the Roman administration was suffering an internal breakdown, Malachias. The Senate had gone array in embezzlement and abuse of its power. They took advantage of Justinian's deteriorating mental health. We understand that you were acting in the best interests of the state and that you had no cause in the failure of the defenses."

"We were only going to arrest them, my lords, I swear it, I had no idea what would have happened!"

"It is of little to no consequence. Whether the Inquisition had tried to bring the corruption to bay or not, Rome would had suffered its fate. The only thing that matters now is our sacred charge."

Malachias nodded slowly. "To protect our flock at all costs."

"So it must be. Me and the Patriarch have made our decision on how to act, and it is now your duty-- ours-- to ensure that our people are safe, that all Byzantines are safe from the greedy claws of the demon filth that surround us. Now go, we will summon the clergy and make way to the Palace."

Malachias nodded, again bowing and giving homage before turning to leave.

---

The dusk was quickly fading to nightfall as Malachias was once again at the balcony overlooking the planet. Swarms of priests, cardinals, bishops, imams, and other holy men were flocking to the Council. The ranks of the Inquisition-- the few not deployed over Gillipse IV-- were already present in their vestments and robes, welcoming their superior clerics.

Somewhere within the inner sanctum the delegations of the Ottoman domain as well as the Vaduzians, Tantalians and others were amassing. The heads of Byzantine government administration were also arriving with their massive staff, from the Head of the Historical revision to the Praetors of the Justice department, and even the Consul of Byzantine who's tenure in office was slated to have ended almost a week ago if not for the emergency situation.

Over the loud commotion, Malachias could hear the loud roars of the head of the Palace guard giving instructions to the ever growing mob of frantic officials.

"..Gentlemen, Ladies, we will be commencing within the hour to allow delegations who have not arrived time to do so. Please find your seats within the sanctum chambers. You may aquaint yourself with the others while you wait or ask one of the guard for refreshments.."

At the front of the chamber facing the senate-like sanctum and rows of chairs sat four thrones, made of gold, silver, and stone, where the Byzantine Emperors, the rulers of Vaduz, Ottia, and Tantalus would sit, with the oddly empty fourth from which Justinian would convene from, and which Malachias would have to be-- a thought he abhorred, sickening him to his deepest bowels of having to muster the authority of his beloved master whom he had practically condemned to death but allowing him to stay on the planet.

Despite this, his eyes remain fixed further behind them, where two more thrones, that of the Pontiff and Caliph, and finally behind them, the two massive statues, towering above the entire room, their eerie carved monolithic eyes gazing on all those who entered and sat-- Emperors Constantine and Heraclius, the men who built Byzantine from two broken nations, Greece, and Rome. One could only see the illusion of tears flowing from their cheeks as their mighty imperium laid in shambles and its continuing existence, threatened.