Future Technology Bravo Roleplay Group(OOC and Sign Ups)

[Ivory Record]

Where's the thread? I'll give you a prime example.

*Cracks knuckles then promptly expects to get writer's block and fail utterly.*

at the moment i can't do that, but give me one here.

Room for one more? I can conjure such an example.

[The Holy Dominion of Inesea]

A class II Civ?

[The canardian republic]

give me an example like kistan's please then.

BelowSpace Coordinates 1194:45D:7702
Timestamp: 2502:118:678:190045 YPA
Havanian Group, Milky Way Galaxy, System 783:414:003-d (See attch. Res. Survey 7749.80)
Corporation Eye Versitani, Caziv T'nameral Commanding Ascended
Mainframe Upload warr. Level II Potentials obs.

Caziv T'nameral opened his optics, then scanned the Nexus. The Eye must have awakened him from the Mainframe for a purpose, one warranting sentience further than that provided by the flowmetal consciousness. As his full awareness returned he noted a crimson glowglobe pulsing slowly, but insistently, just outside reach of his servo to the left. Reshaping his form into his preferred pre-Ascent humanoid figure, Caziv stretched out his hand and enclosed the glowglobe in a metallic fist. A datastream seared through his mind, the condensed voyage of the Versitani coursing through the Aviat's head like a clear drink of iced wine from the OldWorld. A mass collection expedition then. System 783:422:380-g destination. Then why had he been called forth? The world was still at least a few hours distant.

Ah, another glowglobe, radiating a faint mauve. Casiv's faceplater registered surprise. He was intimately familiar with the colors of the globes, having been on precisely eight thousand seven hundred forty-four voyages in various capacities. And yet, this one he had not seen for ages, nigh on two thousand rotations of the Prime. A contact, unidentified, and yes, even an inhabited world! Excellent, most excellent. They were above the Versitani in RealSpace, and would delay the trip, but no matter. It was generally agreed among the Ascended that cataloguing Potentials was the primary function of any voyage from the Planeships, and as such it was well that the Eye had pulled him from the Mainframe.

He stood from his seat in the center of the Nexus, and immediately a vast universe of glowglobes rose from the smoky black material of the floor and walls, dancing and circling around him as if he were the center of their existence and they his satellites. Which, technically, was true. Casiv's manipulators flew over the glowglobes like the master Commander he was, programming a complicated string of multiple datastream to be executed by the Eye. It began to emerge from the deep Flow of BelowSpace, then headed up rapidly into the Veil that seperated BelowSpace from the real universe above. The Aviat supposed he could have just merged with the ship, but old sentimental ties to beauty and color from his pre-Ascent consciousness made him an avid fan of the delicate dance that was working with the glowglobes.

The Eye breached into RealSpace with nary a shimmer in the space-time fabric, emerging like a graceful porpoise. It measured but 75 standard meters from stem to stern, and glistened faintly in the light from a nearby star with a black metallic gleam. Caziv strode to the wall of the Nexus, which shone silver briefly and then transitioned to images of the message in Galstandard and the planet in the immediate area, which were simultaneously overlapped on the visual surface but which his multi-level processor differentiated without any conscious effort. He observed the religious content of the message astutely, noting the interesting Trinity nature of the belief system. Quite different from the Omnissah. Intriguing indeed.

A ping echoed around the Nexus, and Caziv tapped his manipulators on the arm of the chair. A long stream of audio transmissive data came through, but the babble was unintelligible. The Ascended waited patiently as the Cognatus decoded it, and then a message rang into the chamber.

Code: Select all

"Hail to you, possible denizens of that which lies beyond. I am He who Guards the Path, Aldar XVI Lucien, and I deliver you a message, from the people of Old Farhalon, the World of Autindaun, and the Shremplar Order itself. For one-hundred and fifty years our world has been united under the Path, and for one-hundred years we have been exploring that which lies beyond. We have been exploring new systems and worlds, gathering resources and knowledge, and expanding the territory of our people. And now, with the death of Guardian Vizad Ijhek, may Salvation come with ease, a new era shall begin. We shall no longer be in the dark, for the time has come for us to gather the most important knowledge of that which lies beyond. If you are out there, we request that you show yourselves to us, be it by transmission, or by coming us on your own, so that we may bring about the new era together. I thank you now for your time. May the Triad watch over you, and may your Paths be cleared."

Caziv nearly clapped his hands in glee. A multiplanetary Empire! A class II civilization at the very least then. He quickly encoded a reply.

Code: Select all

This is Aviat Caziv T'nameral, Ascended of the Mainframe, commander of the Eye Versitani. This ship was passing by your world in the Dive when sensors detected your civilization and recieved your message. It awakened me, and I have come to make contact. Be assured we have no hostile intent, and are merely seeking to learn more about the universe. At this point your species in particular.

---

I took the liberty of making up your initial message.

I... I ... ch... check your telegrams. *jaw drops* I AM UNWORTHY!!!!

[G-Tech Corporation]

A class II Civ?

The Ascendancy is Class III.

[insert trollface]

[Ivory Record]

BelowSpace Coordinates 1194:45D:7702
Timestamp: 2502:118:678:190045 YPA
Havanian Group, Milky Way Galaxy, System 783:414:003-d (See attch. Res. Survey 7749.80)
Corporation Eye Versitani, Caziv T'nameral Commanding Ascended
Mainframe Upload warr. Level II Potentials obs.

Caziv T'nameral opened his optics, then scanned the Nexus. The Eye must have awakened him from the Mainframe for a purpose, one warranting sentience further than that provided by the flowmetal consciousness. As his full awareness returned he noted a crimson glowglobe pulsing slowly, but insistently, just outside reach of his servo to the left. Reshaping his form into his preferred pre-Ascent humanoid figure, Caziv stretched out his hand and enclosed the glowglobe in a metallic fist. A datastream seared through his mind, the condensed voyage of the Versitani coursing through the Aviat's head like a clear drink of iced wine from the OldWorld. A mass collection expedition then. System 783:422:380-g destination. Then why had he been called forth? The world was still at least a few hours distant.

Ah, another glowglobe, radiating a faint mauve. Casiv's faceplater registered surprise. He was intimately familiar with the colors of the globes, having been on precisely eight thousand seven hundred forty-four voyages in various capacities. And yet, this one he had not seen for ages, nigh on two thousand rotations of the Prime. A contact, unidentified, and yes, even an inhabited world! Excellent, most excellent. They were above the Versitani in RealSpace, and would delay the trip, but no matter. It was generally agreed among the Ascended that cataloguing Potentials was the primary function of any voyage from the Planeships, and as such it was well that the Eye had pulled him from the Mainframe.

He stood from his seat in the center of the Nexus, and immediately a vast universe of glowglobes rose from the smoky black material of the floor and walls, dancing and circling around him as if he were the center of their existence and they his satellites. Which, technically, was true. Casiv's manipulators flew over the glowglobes like the master Commander he was, programming a complicated string of multiple datastream to be executed by the Eye. It began to emerge from the deep Flow of BelowSpace, then headed up rapidly into the Veil that seperated BelowSpace from the real universe above. The Aviat supposed he could have just merged with the ship, but old sentimental ties to beauty and color from his pre-Ascent consciousness made him an avid fan of the delicate dance that was working with the glowglobes.

The Eye breached into RealSpace with nary a shimmer in the space-time fabric, emerging like a graceful porpoise. It measured but 75 standard meters from stem to stern, and glistened faintly in the light from a nearby star with a black metallic gleam. Caziv strode to the wall of the Nexus, which shone silver briefly and then transitioned to images of the message in Galstandard and the planet in the immediate area, which were simultaneously overlapped on the visual surface but which his multi-level processor differentiated without any conscious effort. He observed the religious content of the message astutely, noting the interesting Trinity nature of the belief system. Quite different from the Omnissah. Intriguing indeed.

A ping echoed around the Nexus, and Caziv tapped his manipulators on the arm of the chair. A long stream of audio transmissive data came through, but the babble was unintelligible. The Ascended waited patiently as the Cognatus decoded it, and then a message rang into the chamber.

Code: Select all

"Hail to you, possible denizens of that which lies beyond. I am He who Guards the Path, Aldar XVI Lucien, and I deliver you a message, from the people of Old Farhalon, the World of Autindaun, and the Shremplar Order itself. For one-hundred and fifty years our world has been united under the Path, and for one-hundred years we have been exploring that which lies beyond. We have been exploring new systems and worlds, gathering resources and knowledge, and expanding the territory of our people. And now, with the death of Guardian Vizad Ijhek, may Salvation come with ease, a new era shall begin. We shall no longer be in the dark, for the time has come for us to gather the most important knowledge of that which lies beyond. If you are out there, we request that you show yourselves to us, be it by transmission, or by coming us on your own, so that we may bring about the new era together. I thank you now for your time. May the Triad watch over you, and may your Paths be cleared."

Caziv nearly clapped his hands in glee. A multiplanetary Empire! A class II civilization at the very least then. He quickly encoded a reply.

Code: Select all

This is Aviat Caziv T'nameral, Ascended of the Mainframe, commander of the Eye Versitani. This ship was passing by your world in the Dive when sensors detected your civilization and recieved your message. It awakened me, and I have come to make contact. Be assured we have no hostile intent, and are merely seeking to learn more about the universe. At this point your species in particular.

---

I took the liberty of making up your initial message.

I... I ... ch... check your telegrams. *jaw drops* I AM UNWORTHY!!!!

That's G-Tech. We all feel that way.

[The canardian republic]

at the moment i can't do that, but give me one here.

Room for one more? I can conjure such an example.

always my friend.

[The canardian republic]

hello?

[The canardian republic]

Here is the ic for those wanting to WATCH!! viewtopic.php?f=31&t=207638

[Escalan Corps-Star Island]

I... I ... ch... check your telegrams. *jaw drops* I AM UNWORTHY!!!!

That's G-Tech. We all feel that way.

To some extent. He's the reason I'm here. If you ask, he'll tell you about a reactionary admiral throwing around pulsars. . .
And the Escalan are Class VII. Because seven.

[G-Tech Corporation]

That's G-Tech. We all feel that way.

To some extent. He's the reason I'm here. If you ask, he'll tell you about a reactionary admiral throwing around pulsars. . .
And the Escalan are Class VII. Because seven.

Ahaha. What scale are you using Esc?

And it's nbd lads, that was ten seconds of work.

[The canardian republic]

And it's nbd lads, that was ten seconds of work.

ten... SECONDS!!!!!!!

[Steel Confessors]

Legio V Tonitru Fervore
Detachment Apparatus Scriptor Malleorum (3 Templar Class, 1 Crusader)
Commanding Hydra Rimor

Co-ordinates 394-894-386-3849
System: Undesignated (Pending Survey)
Unkown Occupants
Approach Status: Yellow

Rimor idly studied the incoming data feeds, streaming across his retinas. nothing quite jumped out towards him, but there were a few irregularities. Irregularities always were a bother. Especially if it turned out those various anomalies could think. Then things would really be bothersome. The shriveled man shook his head slightly and closed off the data-feed. Suddenly the numbers and letters that glowed a faint blue across the backs of his eyes vanished rendering the clear interface tank in his immediate vision.

The Hydra, like most of his kind was barely human anymore. Over centuries of conflict he had gradually become something more akin to a machine. Nutrient tubes streamed through his skin like flesh-boring worms, cybernetic implants of various kinds all tasked with various tasks from data interface, neural stimulation or even tissue regeneration jutted from his skin like giant metal pustules that seemed to turn the skin-and-bones frame of the man into an ungainly mass completely at odds with itself.

While the majority would most likely be disgusted at the complete abandonment of his humanity, Rimor found it actually quite comforting. He was that close to perfection and that closer to ultimate efficiency at his duty. He was afterall completely interfaced with his ship. Every piece of him. From the giant monolithic fore that boasted the proud heraldry of the Confessors as well as campaign and kill banners to the beating in his chest of the fusion reactor. His heart became the reactor, his arms the cannon broadside the ship boasted and his legs the massive thrumming engines propelling the blackened monolith further into the void.

Rimor felt a slight tap at his consciousnesses and he almost turned around in his casket to face the approaching entity. Instead he remembered that it was all in his head, instead turning his mind from his current position and through the variety of conduits, until he approached the source of the intrusion. While technically Rimor never truly left his casket, his mind, simple data streams transferred through wires and cables now approached the bulky interior of the vessel approaching the AI core. The feeling always made him feel somewhat free, much more so than being confined within the interface casket and had at first been incredibly disorienting feeling one's body somewhere else than the mind. Over time, though, he had found himself quite used to the idea.

Every Confessor ship carried at least one, and occasionally much more. They were treated pretty much as crew (Although that term doesn't apply to the majority of the Confessors since almost all crew, save for the moderati attending to the Hydra, were all automatons with not a single thought running through their deformed heads.) and were often cherished officers, serving as the XO in most cases. Their ability to quickly scan over large segments of data and exist totally within the data stream proved to be a massive asset the Confessors weren't one to separate with. Not to mention the sense of awe every member held for the massive logic engines, seen as the human spirit made concrete.

The one Rimor worked with had named herself Suasor, and had indeed proven the interruption of Rimor's introspection. "Command-Hydra." She idly spoke, although her voice carried a small aspect of reverence for his station. Her voice was never truly heard by Rimor, instead neurons artificially fired within the audio portion of his brain made it seem like he heard her as data streamed from her core to his casket.

"Suasor. What did you bring me here for?" He replied, his jaw moving soundlessly within the amniotic fluid of his casket.

"There were a few contacts detected several AU to the fore of the formation. One just entered real-space with some sort of... residual radiation and substances. At the moment I'm making the supposition that it's residue from that faction's form of FTL. I'll send a data packet to you later. The other seemed to have powered on sublights into the system."

As she spoke, Rimor felt several images transferred to his head, the first being an overhead map (If such a thing could truly apply in space.) of the system, highlighting the gas giants and rocky planets with the softly cascading sunlight of the nearby red giant. The second was an overlay that highlighted the Detachment's position along with its previous heading, barely at quarter sublights to the fore. The third showed the two unknown contacts and their assumed headings and backwash from the radiation. The first contact, the more exotic one, seemed a bit distorted and that layer of space seemed to shift sporadically as if trying to re-acclimate itself to the sudden hole that was tore into it.

"Very interesting Suasor. Open up communication channels and send a brief message along the tight-beam." He said, musing over the images. He mentally adjusted and played with the images, stretching and pulling them not to mention rotating the point of view with an unparalleled form of freedom.

"This is the Steel Confessor Detachment Apparatus Scriptor Malleorum of the V Legio Tonitru Fervore. I am Command-Hydra Rimor. I humbly request your identification.

---

I guess this'll do. Damn G going first and ruining any chance I had at thunder.

[Steel Confessors]

To some extent. He's the reason I'm here. If you ask, he'll tell you about a reactionary admiral throwing around pulsars. . .
And the Escalan are Class VII. Because seven.

Ahaha. What scale are you using Esc?

And it's nbd lads, that was ten seconds of work.

I almost feel like I've seen that intro a few times before.

[Ivory Record]

*clears throat, and tries not to crib anyone too heavily*

Akasha
Grade 1 Ecumenopolis
Third Planet, Solgushi'i System

The Cap. A sprawling, semi-opaque covering over the oceans of a once-verdant world, composed of carbon and geometry. Properly known as the Oceanic Construction Firmament, it was a project centuries in the making.

At the middle latitudes, nearer the equator, and not far from the Primary Spaceport, was the Deep Field Radio Telemetry Observatory - a simplistic radio array encompassing several hundred square kilometers with tranceivers. For the most part, the aging observatory was used to gauge the position and progress of the First Generation colony ships - the ones that lacked a proper method of superluminal transportation. The remaining time was divied up between the Central Astronomical Authority and the Defense Forces, who scheduled nearly-regular observances of objects of interest.

These objects were almost universally quasars and pulsars, and their discovery was almost routine. The Erudites knew by now that they were hardly along in the universe, the galaxy certainly notwithstanding. Interstellar diplomacy was alive and well in the Protectorate.

"Technical Leader, we are approaching the listening range... now. Beginning recording."

The Technical Leader for this shift forced a polite yawn behind his hand, a subtle indication of his boredom. He would have been tall by our standards, standing just above the Erudite average at 6'4", though he was far thinner than any race of man had a right to be, despite having a similar body type. His limbs were slightly too long, and his hands directed into narrow, fine fingers. They were a race of blue-grey pseudo-hominids, but their body plan was where any true similarity ended. Most divergent were their brains - composed of four lobes, as opposed to the human baseline of two. These lobes functioned independently as well as interdependently, allowing them to carry on two trains of thought at once.

In boring situations like this, the Technical Leader found it hard to keep even one of those trains of thought focused on the task at hand, until someone frowned. "Leader, the signal displays cogent irregularity."

"Cogent Irregularity" was a term founded by a Historical Telecommunications Engineer, who had focused his attention on a few other first-contact cases. The term related to signals that obeyed certain sets of rules, where they betrayed both regular and irregular traits. It was an easy way to tell apart an artificial signal from a natural one.

Suddenly, both trains of thought were razor-focused. "Contact Franchesbaken and shunt the feed to Duglessitoms. Inform Gugyka'i Chaddik that we have a potential first contact."

Franchesbaken was one of the most famous ships in the Protectorate's fleet - a consular vessel of singular design and poise, constructed for the use of the Ambassador-At-Large, Chaddik Cap, at his personal request. Its powerful, and eponymous, AI was particularly potent at collecting and processing cultural information - standard operating procedure in these cases was to alert the Ambassador of a new potential contact for him to follow up upon at his leisure. Duglessitoms was, by contrast, the AI installed at DFRTO, which would begin to take the data, resolve it into the trinary computing language it preferred, and try and identify other patterns, down to resolving the language, if at all possible. This was a process that could take days or weeks, and so, a second part of standard operating procedure was to fire back a message of their own.

The message was present by legislation some hundred and fifty local years before, and was transmitted in the ancient trade language of Lojban, though for our purposes, it is rendered into English below. The language was chosen for its cultural neutrality, and the ease with which it was learned.

Code: Select all

Greetings, Fellow Sentients,

We have rcieved your transmission, though we have unfortunately yet to fully comprehend it. It takes time to understand new languages, as we are sure it will take you time to learn this one. We must first impress upon you that we are a peaceful race and mean your own no harm.

We are the Erudites, the people of the Protectorate of the Ivory Record of Akasha. A diplomatic transport has been appraised of your relative position.

The numbers that follow give our position relative to the galactic center at the time of transmission. This is appreciable, because you are very distant, and messages travel only so far. We hope our races may come to learn of one another in time.

[The canardian republic]

Legio V Tonitru Fervore
Detachment Apparatus Scriptor Malleorum (3 Templar Class, 1 Crusader)
Commanding Hydra Rimor

Co-ordinates 394-894-386-3849
System: Undesignated (Pending Survey)
Unkown Occupants
Approach Status: Yellow

Rimor idly studied the incoming data feeds, streaming across his retinas. nothing quite jumped out towards him, but there were a few irregularities. Irregularities always were a bother. Especially if it turned out those various anomalies could think. Then things would really be bothersome. The shriveled man shook his head slightly and closed off the data-feed. Suddenly the numbers and letters that glowed a faint blue across the backs of his eyes vanished rendering the clear interface tank in his immediate vision.

The Hydra, like most of his kind was barely human anymore. Over centuries of conflict he had gradually become something more akin to a machine. Nutrient tubes streamed through his skin like flesh-boring worms, cybernetic implants of various kinds all tasked with various tasks from data interface, neural stimulation or even tissue regeneration jutted from his skin like giant metal pustules that seemed to turn the skin-and-bones frame of the man into an ungainly mass completely at odds with itself.

While the majority would most likely be disgusted at the complete abandonment of his humanity, Rimor found it actually quite comforting. He was that close to perfection and that closer to ultimate efficiency at his duty. He was afterall completely interfaced with his ship. Every piece of him. From the giant monolithic fore that boasted the proud heraldry of the Confessors as well as campaign and kill banners to the beating in his chest of the fusion reactor. His heart became the reactor, his arms the cannon broadside the ship boasted and his legs the massive thrumming engines propelling the blackened monolith further into the void.

Rimor felt a slight tap at his consciousnesses and he almost turned around in his casket to face the approaching entity. Instead he remembered that it was all in his head, instead turning his mind from his current position and through the variety of conduits, until he approached the source of the intrusion. While technically Rimor never truly left his casket, his mind, simple data streams transferred through wires and cables now approached the bulky interior of the vessel approaching the AI core. The feeling always made him feel somewhat free, much more so than being confined within the interface casket and had at first been incredibly disorienting feeling one's body somewhere else than the mind. Over time, though, he had found himself quite used to the idea.

Every Confessor ship carried at least one, and occasionally much more. They were treated pretty much as crew (Although that term doesn't apply to the majority of the Confessors since almost all crew, save for the moderati attending to the Hydra, were all automatons with not a single thought running through their deformed heads.) and were often cherished officers, serving as the XO in most cases. Their ability to quickly scan over large segments of data and exist totally within the data stream proved to be a massive asset the Confessors weren't one to separate with. Not to mention the sense of awe every member held for the massive logic engines, seen as the human spirit made concrete.

The one Rimor worked with had named herself Suasor, and had indeed proven the interruption of Rimor's introspection. "Command-Hydra." She idly spoke, although her voice carried a small aspect of reverence for his station. Her voice was never truly heard by Rimor, instead neurons artificially fired within the audio portion of his brain made it seem like he heard her as data streamed from her core to his casket.

"Suasor. What did you bring me here for?" He replied, his jaw moving soundlessly within the amniotic fluid of his casket.

"There were a few contacts detected several AU to the fore of the formation. One just entered real-space with some sort of... residual radiation and substances. At the moment I'm making the supposition that it's residue from that faction's form of FTL. I'll send a data packet to you later. The other seemed to have powered on sublights into the system."

As she spoke, Rimor felt several images transferred to his head, the first being an overhead map (If such a thing could truly apply in space.) of the system, highlighting the gas giants and rocky planets with the softly cascading sunlight of the nearby red giant. The second was an overlay that highlighted the Detachment's position along with its previous heading, barely at quarter sublights to the fore. The third showed the two unknown contacts and their assumed headings and backwash from the radiation. The first contact, the more exotic one, seemed a bit distorted and that layer of space seemed to shift sporadically as if trying to re-acclimate itself to the sudden hole that was tore into it.

"Very interesting Suasor. Open up communication channels and send a brief message along the tight-beam." He said, musing over the images. He mentally adjusted and played with the images, stretching and pulling them not to mention rotating the point of view with an unparalleled form of freedom.

"This is the Steel Confessor Detachment Apparatus Scriptor Malleorum of the V Legio Tonitru Fervore. I am Command-Hydra Rimor. I humbly request your identification.

---

I guess this'll do. Damn G going first and ruining any chance I had at thunder.

go on ahead, damn all y'all are epic.

[Kreanoltha]

Legio V Tonitru Fervore
Detachment Apparatus Scriptor Malleorum (3 Templar Class, 1 Crusader)
Commanding Hydra Rimor

Co-ordinates 394-894-386-3849
System: Undesignated (Pending Survey)
Unkown Occupants
Approach Status: Yellow

Rimor idly studied the incoming data feeds, streaming across his retinas. nothing quite jumped out towards him, but there were a few irregularities. Irregularities always were a bother. Especially if it turned out those various anomalies could think. Then things would really be bothersome. The shriveled man shook his head slightly and closed off the data-feed. Suddenly the numbers and letters that glowed a faint blue across the backs of his eyes vanished rendering the clear interface tank in his immediate vision.

The Hydra, like most of his kind was barely human anymore. Over centuries of conflict he had gradually become something more akin to a machine. Nutrient tubes streamed through his skin like flesh-boring worms, cybernetic implants of various kinds all tasked with various tasks from data interface, neural stimulation or even tissue regeneration jutted from his skin like giant metal pustules that seemed to turn the skin-and-bones frame of the man into an ungainly mass completely at odds with itself.

While the majority would most likely be disgusted at the complete abandonment of his humanity, Rimor found it actually quite comforting. He was that close to perfection and that closer to ultimate efficiency at his duty. He was afterall completely interfaced with his ship. Every piece of him. From the giant monolithic fore that boasted the proud heraldry of the Confessors as well as campaign and kill banners to the beating in his chest of the fusion reactor. His heart became the reactor, his arms the cannon broadside the ship boasted and his legs the massive thrumming engines propelling the blackened monolith further into the void.

Rimor felt a slight tap at his consciousnesses and he almost turned around in his casket to face the approaching entity. Instead he remembered that it was all in his head, instead turning his mind from his current position and through the variety of conduits, until he approached the source of the intrusion. While technically Rimor never truly left his casket, his mind, simple data streams transferred through wires and cables now approached the bulky interior of the vessel approaching the AI core. The feeling always made him feel somewhat free, much more so than being confined within the interface casket and had at first been incredibly disorienting feeling one's body somewhere else than the mind. Over time, though, he had found himself quite used to the idea.

Every Confessor ship carried at least one, and occasionally much more. They were treated pretty much as crew (Although that term doesn't apply to the majority of the Confessors since almost all crew, save for the moderati attending to the Hydra, were all automatons with not a single thought running through their deformed heads.) and were often cherished officers, serving as the XO in most cases. Their ability to quickly scan over large segments of data and exist totally within the data stream proved to be a massive asset the Confessors weren't one to separate with. Not to mention the sense of awe every member held for the massive logic engines, seen as the human spirit made concrete.

The one Rimor worked with had named herself Suasor, and had indeed proven the interruption of Rimor's introspection. "Command-Hydra." She idly spoke, although her voice carried a small aspect of reverence for his station. Her voice was never truly heard by Rimor, instead neurons artificially fired within the audio portion of his brain made it seem like he heard her as data streamed from her core to his casket.

"Suasor. What did you bring me here for?" He replied, his jaw moving soundlessly within the amniotic fluid of his casket.

"There were a few contacts detected several AU to the fore of the formation. One just entered real-space with some sort of... residual radiation and substances. At the moment I'm making the supposition that it's residue from that faction's form of FTL. I'll send a data packet to you later. The other seemed to have powered on sublights into the system."

As she spoke, Rimor felt several images transferred to his head, the first being an overhead map (If such a thing could truly apply in space.) of the system, highlighting the gas giants and rocky planets with the softly cascading sunlight of the nearby red giant. The second was an overlay that highlighted the Detachment's position along with its previous heading, barely at quarter sublights to the fore. The third showed the two unknown contacts and their assumed headings and backwash from the radiation. The first contact, the more exotic one, seemed a bit distorted and that layer of space seemed to shift sporadically as if trying to re-acclimate itself to the sudden hole that was tore into it.

"Very interesting Suasor. Open up communication channels and send a brief message along the tight-beam." He said, musing over the images. He mentally adjusted and played with the images, stretching and pulling them not to mention rotating the point of view with an unparalleled form of freedom.

---

I guess this'll do. Damn G going first and ruining any chance I had at thunder.

go on ahead, damn all y'all are epic.

This would take me several dozen minutes to write.

[The canardian republic]

*clears throat, and tries not to crib anyone too heavily*

Akasha
Grade 1 Ecumenopolis
Third Planet, Solgushi'i System

The Cap. A sprawling, semi-opaque covering over the oceans of a once-verdant world, composed of carbon and geometry. Properly known as the Oceanic Construction Firmament, it was a project centuries in the making.

At the middle latitudes, nearer the equator, and not far from the Primary Spaceport, was the Deep Field Radio Telemetry Observatory - a simplistic radio array encompassing several hundred square kilometers with tranceivers. For the most part, the aging observatory was used to gauge the position and progress of the First Generation colony ships - the ones that lacked a proper method of superluminal transportation. The remaining time was divied up between the Central Astronomical Authority and the Defense Forces, who scheduled nearly-regular observances of objects of interest.

These objects were almost universally quasars and pulsars, and their discovery was almost routine. The Erudites knew by now that they were hardly along in the universe, the galaxy certainly notwithstanding. Interstellar diplomacy was alive and well in the Protectorate.

"Technical Leader, we are approaching the listening range... now. Beginning recording."

The Technical Leader for this shift forced a polite yawn behind his hand, a subtle indication of his boredom. He would have been tall by our standards, standing just above the Erudite average at 6'4", though he was far thinner than any race of man had a right to be, despite having a similar body type. His limbs were slightly too long, and his hands directed into narrow, fine fingers. They were a race of blue-grey pseudo-hominids, but their body plan was where any true similarity ended. Most divergent were their brains - composed of four lobes, as opposed to the human baseline of two. These lobes functioned independently as well as interdependently, allowing them to carry on two trains of thought at once.

In boring situations like this, the Technical Leader found it hard to keep even one of those trains of thought focused on the task at hand, until someone frowned. "Leader, the signal displays cogent irregularity."

"Cogent Irregularity" was a term founded by a Historical Telecommunications Engineer, who had focused his attention on a few other first-contact cases. The term related to signals that obeyed certain sets of rules, where they betrayed both regular and irregular traits. It was an easy way to tell apart an artificial signal from a natural one.

Suddenly, both trains of thought were razor-focused. "Contact Franchesbaken and shunt the feed to Duglessitoms. Inform Gugyka'i Chaddik that we have a potential first contact."

Franchesbaken was one of the most famous ships in the Protectorate's fleet - a consular vessel of singular design and poise, constructed for the use of the Ambassador-At-Large, Chaddik Cap, at his personal request. Its powerful, and eponymous, AI was particularly potent at collecting and processing cultural information - standard operating procedure in these cases was to alert the Ambassador of a new potential contact for him to follow up upon at his leisure. Duglessitoms was, by contrast, the AI installed at DFRTO, which would begin to take the data, resolve it into the trinary computing language it preferred, and try and identify other patterns, down to resolving the language, if at all possible. This was a process that could take days or weeks, and so, a second part of standard operating procedure was to fire back a message of their own.

The message was present by legislation some hundred and fifty local years before, and was transmitted in the ancient trade language of Lojban, though for our purposes, it is rendered into English below. The language was chosen for its cultural neutrality, and the ease with which it was learned.

Code: Select all

Greetings, Fellow Sentients,

We have rcieved your transmission, though we have unfortunately yet to fully comprehend it. It takes time to understand new languages, as we are sure it will take you time to learn this one. We must first impress upon you that we are a peaceful race and mean your own no harm.

We are the Erudites, the people of the Protectorate of the Ivory Record of Akasha. A diplomatic transport has been appraised of your relative position.

The numbers that follow give our position relative to the galactic center at the time of transmission. This is appreciable, because you are very distant, and messages travel only so far. We hope our races may come to learn of one another in time.

you to are accepted, refer to last post

[Daskoxian]

That was beautiful. Keep it up, though on the actual RPs and not here.

Also Canardian, can you set up an OOC thread for your RP applications? This thread isn't for that sort of thing.

[G-Tech Corporation]

Ahaha. What scale are you using Esc?

And it's nbd lads, that was ten seconds of work.

I almost feel like I've seen that intro a few times before.

Shhhhh you're not supposed to give away that I'm a lazy bastard SC

Ten seconds I tell you! I appended the italics and took out the quotes....

[Steel Confessors]

I almost feel like I've seen that intro a few times before.

Shhhhh you're not supposed to give away that I'm a lazy bastard SC

Ten seconds I tell you! I appended the italics and took out the quotes....

Oh, whoops sorry. It'll...uh.. be our little secret then.

[G-Tech Corporation]

Shhhhh you're not supposed to give away that I'm a lazy bastard SC

Ten seconds I tell you! I appended the italics and took out the quotes....

Oh, whoops sorry. It'll...uh.. be our little secret then.

Erm... indeed. Nothing to see here.

I shall merely walk away whistling nonchalantly now.

That said, it did, technically give an example of how I might respond.

I stand by my nonexistent case.

[Steel Confessors]

Aye, well then time to set up a police cordon.

Anyways, I posted up in the IC of your thingy Canardian.

However, I think I'll crash for the night. Tired and got PT early in the morn'.

[Adastri]

Application:

Nation Name: Adastri

Government Type: 'Democratic' republic - there's a clear hierarchy from the current leader and the Pope to the lower-class labourers. Votes are weighted according to class, so the labourers barely count despite there being millions of them and the ones in most need of change. An elected president rules alongside the Pope, and any laws decided on by both are immediately implemented.

Technology Base: None, really, so take this as custom. If it helps, most of their technology has already been invented.

Number of Systems Claimed: 2

Number of Occupied Worlds: 4 (mostly just colonies)

Fleet Numbers: There are around 5 small military ships with about 20 missiles between them, 50 civilian transport or cargo ships, and one huge ship that holds most of the government (the military ships protect it)

Cultural or Species Specific Data:

(as needed, if you're representative democracy humans, this really doesn't apply to you too much)
The original Adastri ship and population were constructed and left Earth as they felt they had been religiously persecuted (not really understandable; they were Roman Catholics) and Earth was getting too overcrowded anyway. It took them years to reach their first system because they were really, really bad at engineering. As soon as they reached it, however, they sent down an escape pod with a few unlucky people and an engineer to see if the planet was suitable for mining.
It wasn't and they all died.
So they tried again on the next planet. This one had no metal of note, but it turned out to be okay for farming. Eventually the labouring population grew and grew, due to the huge amount of money one could make, leaving the upper-class all in the original Adastri. There was a large shortage of metal, however, slowing down transport, so a group of scouts headed out to find a new system with mineable planets.
Soon, three more planets were 'colonized' and mined and became huge lower-class population centres - the upper-classes remaining on the Adastri.

The higher-class people live in the largest ship, along with the Pope and elected president. They have a pretty good quality of life, compared to the planetside laborers. The laborers live in sprawling colonies across planets, based around mines, with their oxygen imported from other colonized planets. They tend to spend all their lives mining, trying to cultivate plants and animals in wildly unsuitable areas, or training to fly the cargo ships.

Basically, they're kinda shit at everything.

I believe I may have been missed :/

[Kreanoltha]

Application:

Nation Name: Adastri

Government Type: 'Democratic' republic - there's a clear hierarchy from the current leader and the Pope to the lower-class labourers. Votes are weighted according to class, so the labourers barely count despite there being millions of them and the ones in most need of change. An elected president rules alongside the Pope, and any laws decided on by both are immediately implemented.

Technology Base: None, really, so take this as custom. If it helps, most of their technology has already been invented.

Number of Systems Claimed: 2

Number of Occupied Worlds: 4 (mostly just colonies)

Fleet Numbers: There are around 5 small military ships with about 20 missiles between them, 50 civilian transport or cargo ships, and one huge ship that holds most of the government (the military ships protect it)

Cultural or Species Specific Data:

(as needed, if you're representative democracy humans, this really doesn't apply to you too much)
The original Adastri ship and population were constructed and left Earth as they felt they had been religiously persecuted (not really understandable; they were Roman Catholics) and Earth was getting too overcrowded anyway. It took them years to reach their first system because they were really, really bad at engineering. As soon as they reached it, however, they sent down an escape pod with a few unlucky people and an engineer to see if the planet was suitable for mining.
It wasn't and they all died.
So they tried again on the next planet. This one had no metal of note, but it turned out to be okay for farming. Eventually the labouring population grew and grew, due to the huge amount of money one could make, leaving the upper-class all in the original Adastri. There was a large shortage of metal, however, slowing down transport, so a group of scouts headed out to find a new system with mineable planets.
Soon, three more planets were 'colonized' and mined and became huge lower-class population centres - the upper-classes remaining on the Adastri.

The higher-class people live in the largest ship, along with the Pope and elected president. They have a pretty good quality of life, compared to the planetside laborers. The laborers live in sprawling colonies across planets, based around mines, with their oxygen imported from other colonized planets. They tend to spend all their lives mining, trying to cultivate plants and animals in wildly unsuitable areas, or training to fly the cargo ships.

Basically, they're kinda shit at everything.

I believe I may have been missed :/

Really? Oi... Okay. We'll take a look as soon as we get on. In fact, if everyone who has applied and hasn't gotten in would be kind enough to repost their apps here, it would make it easier to find you so we don't skip you by mistake.

[The Holy Dominion of Inesea]

Just a suggestion. Put the Text Walls into spoilers. You make us smaller rp'ers want to blow our brains out.