Kingmaker ATTN: AXIS (CLOSED)

by **O Boyce** » Mon Aug 11, 2014 11:56 pm

Augesh 11, 2630 SFY,
City of Tranquietel, Pokos
Spaceport District

Dripping water made puddles down in the subbasement of the older apartment building in the Spaceport district of the Holy City. The drips echoed loudly off of the stone walls of the room that a small group of Pokosians stood, leaning over a small wooden table that had seen better days. The lighting in this room was very low, a single bulb dangling from a wire on the low ceiling, casting multitudes of shadows across the faces and bodies of those present. This was all well and good for some, because in their line of work and in what they are planning, the little each person knew about the other the better. That also made the air in the room stuffy. Either because of the cramped quarters and the many bodies in the tiny room, or the fact that each person was eyeing the rest with varying degrees of suspicion, it was palatable. On the table sat a series of maps and diagrams. One was a surface map of Tranquietel, with all of its streets, transport lines, important buildings, etc. The others were diagrams of the Royal Palace and the Chambers of the High Council, or of the entire Humbistean district of the city that capped the mountain capital.

Madison was a slightly shorter Pokosian than most. Topping out at five feet five inches if she really tried, with an equal wingspan she had spent much of her life being teased for being a short female compared to the tall females that were on average six feet plus. Her feathers were a golden brown that was also a rare genetic variation, but that also made her stand out in a crowd of the normal blacks, whites, and reds that were the Pokosian norm. Her eyes gazed over the map of the Humbistean district with some scrutiny. She had only been there when she was a youngling with her school masters and classmates. She could remember the massive stone walls and towers, the feeling of antiquity hanging in the air like the snow that usually gently dusted that part of the city on any day of the solani. She looked around the room and from those that she could see, these were males and females of a dangerous sorts. Criminals, military veterans, pirates. All of them had one thing on their mind. Revolution. The Pokosian monarchy had been in control since the founding of the First Kingdom thousands of solani ago and to some degree had done many good deeds, and also many bad ones. It was time for a change. The current monarch, High Tar Armerelos II and his father of the same name had run the Commonwealth into a war it couldn’t afford and should not have involved itself in. Ordering thousands of Pokosians to die because the monarch had made some foolhardy promises to some aliens who barely knew Poksoain culture and ways was wrong and it was time that the monarch was replaced with someone who could reign with a little more control, or perhaps an oligarchy, much like before the monarchy was reestablished a decade ago.

“So what is the plan then?” One of the shadowed figures asked, but from his voice Madison could tell it was a male.

“The plan, as it stands is to have our first team to sneak past the guards near the entrance to the district. With all of the party goers heading to the party in the Royal Chambers, it should be rather easy. It is getting out after the bomb goes off that will be the problem” Madison stated cooly.

“How in the heck to you think we will be able to sneak past the Royal Guard? Those soldiers are the best in the Commonwealth” Another voice added, a female this time.

“The Royal Guard is not nearly as good as it was before the war, his majesty and his father got most of the good soldiers killed during the battle of New Kodos. Got almost all of the First Foot Guards slaughtered in the last frontal assault. There are a few of them that are veterans but a lot of them are fresher. There are some veterans there that are supporters of our cause” A deeper voice added, probably a veteran.

There were some murmurs around the table as many agreed with that last summation. The First Foot Guards had been guarding the Royal presence for centuries. Never has a monarch thrown away so much in an effort to defeat an enemy that had surrendered only hours before.

“So what after the bomb?” the first voice asked.

“Other cells will be rising up as soon as news had been received that the High Tar is dead. The people will rise with us. We will usher in a new era of leadership for the Commonwealth” Madison responded

“Madison, you really think the people will rise to overthrow the monarchy. For spirits sake even with the war you have to admit that the kinds of technologies and cultural advances has been much better since we came out of isolation” A higher voice squawked.

“Madison! Madison, our great leader in the revolution is named Madison. What the hell kind of name is that!” Exclaimed one of the male voices.

A flash of rage shot through Madison. She had hatched just when the Commonwealth came out of isolation and her flock had been devout ‘Stainites. So they had names much different than traditional Pokosian names. Either way Madison did not stand for someone making fun of her name, not now, not on the eve of the revolution, and not from someone she barely knew and hardly trusted. She pulled out her hand phaser and pointed it at the offending person and pulled the trigger. The bright orange flash of light struck him in the chest. The smell of burning feathers and clothing filled the air as the offending voice was now gurgling blood out of his beak and falling to the ground clutching his chest. The rest of the group had jumped back in surprise, but all but one stood there in shock at Madison’s response. One of the figures dropped to the aid of the one that had just been shot while the others looked at her with a cool respect.

“My name does not matter. As soon as Hatching day arrives, the revolution will begin and all of the Elders, all of the nobility, all of them will see that the people want change” Madison said with finality.

City of Tranquietel, Pokos
Office of the High Tar, Humbistean District

The cool mountain air drifted lazily through the open window on the south facing wall of the office. The walls were adorned with all matter of ancient artifacts that were put up or created for the previous owners of the office. It had been the office of the High Tar since the construction of this wing of the Royal Palace. The fitted stone walls had since then been reinforced with steel and other metals to protect it from more modern weapons but it was the same room. There was a massive fireplace on the north wall where it was now crackling away sending its warmth across the room, but Armerelos found that with the fire going full blast like that the room got too stuffy, thus the cracked window. He did find that the occasional breeze tousling his feathers to be soothing. Not quite like flying, which he had not done for some time since his reign had started, but it was a close approximation considering.

At the moment, he was working away at his desk, deep into reading some very old text from his massive bookcase that adorned the entire east facing wall. He was studying the annals of the previous High Tars, looking for some sort of inspiration that would put his mind at ease for the day. Something he liked to do each day before he went about his rounds and had some sort of meal before the business of the day. Today’s excerpt was rather interesting, but it lacked the usual umph that he preferred. Then again High Tar Artos the First was not much of a person to inspire people. He was a decent leader but his children brought about one of the most deadly civil wars the Commonwealth had faced, with the exception of the Augment War, or the Great Civil War. After a few more frustrating moments of searching for inspiration, Armerelos gave up and placed the aged book down on his desk and turned his perch to look out the window. It was smallish, but that was common in much of the older palace. If he wanted to he could have had it changed, but he had respect for something that had this much age, so much history. As he gazed down the mountainside he saw the thousands of buildings, many modern, but also many older, and some ancient. All of them making a conglomerate of a city that held not only skyscrapers but also ancient temples and monuments. Down near the base of the mountain in the far distance, the spaceport was busy with all sorts of traffic. Massive transports bring in goods from across the Commonwealth and beyond. Space liners getting ready to take people of all species to exotic locales, smaller personal craft either coming or going to locations unknown. It was a busy place, and the lifeblood of the city with the exception to the goods coming in from the planet via the roads and waterways which were also busy with traffic of all kinds. Armerelos tucked his hands and wings into his crimson robes and clicked his beak in appreciation of what he saw.

Armerelos’s thoughts were broken by a soft knock at the door.

“Come in” The High Tar said in solemn calmness.

The door to the office creaked open and two guards marched in a posted on either side of the door as another figure swept in. It was Ingwishe, the High Elder and leader of the Council of Elders. He stopped and bowed slightly, a recent court procedure that many of the nobility had picked up working with the Xiscapians during the war. Armerelos bowed in return and motioned to some seating in front of the fire and they both perched comfortably.

“So what brings you to my office High Elder at such an early hour?” Armerelos asked.

“Majesty, I just came to discuss the Hatching Day celebrations. There is much to do and I would rather get your input as soon as possible so that we can implement the changes” The Elder said.

“Yes, as I stated before, the knighting will continue. I know it is unorthodox, but it is time that we got some new blood in the nobility. Some people who have an outside view of our little corner of the universe and can give us insight on what we may be missing. So much of the nobility is so Pokos centered. Like the Holy Mountain and my throne is the center of the universe and all revolves around it, but we are part of a community of nations” Armerelos stated.

“So you want to go on with the adoption and knighting?” The Elder asked.

“Yes, I want you to send Ambassador Enomoto personally. His office is in the Xiscapian embassy just outside the walls of the Humbistean district. If you would also deliver all of the other invitations personally if possible” The High Tar ordered.

“Yes your majesty” The Elder replied with somewhat of an air of frustration.

He bowed out of the room and was ushered out by the two guards that had been waiting inside the door during the entire conversation. One of them looked slightly frustrated as well. It was a feeling that the High Tar was getting from many that worked around him. He could not place what was the problem and he had some of the Sword of the Tar looking into it. He did not like using the small Royal Army that was attached to the throne, the regiment of Foot Guards that were posted from the Commonwealth military was more than enough but the Royal Guard was something of a fanatical sect and could be overzealous.

The High Tar got up and walked to his desk and picked up a small pad and began to type a message that would be sent out to all of the invitees and Ambassadors that would be attending the party.

His Majesty Armerelos the Second, High Tar of the Pokosian Commonwealth, Baron of Uluth, Defender of the Faiths

Has invited you to the Hatching Day celebrations in the Royal Palace within the Humbistean District of Tranquietel on Augesh 13, 2630 SFY. Please join us in this celebration of the hatching of the High Tar and his first breaths and sights on this plane of existence. There will be music, dancing, and a banquet.

by **Xiscapia** » Wed Aug 13, 2014 3:31 am

Augesh 13, 2630 SFY (Y.O.O.R. Emperor Foxfire Rose 27)
Humbistean District of Tranquietel
Royal Palace

Tranquietel had always seemed a very vertical city to Imperial Ambassador Enomoto. It was understandable, considering the species who built and lived in it, but in his first days in the Pokosian capital the quality had unsettled him. There were roads for travel certainly, and an active waterway and even plenty of places within walking distance of the Xiscapian embassy, but as the representative of the Kitsune Empire he was expected to have a larger range than walking distance and more often than not that meant taking an aerial transport. His vehicle was an elegant creation of the Alversian Bravura Corporation, sleek, luxurious and dependable, but even so he'd traveled with the windows blackened from both sides for a week before he'd finally dared to look out at the world rushing around and below him. But now despite the kitsune's own inherent agoraphobia he was quite comfortable with watching the Royal Palace draw large through the windows as his little delegation came up on it.

Up front the traditional driver's seat had been folded back and replaced by a perch for his Pokosian driver, a middle-aged avian by the name of Songho. The loyal chauffeur had his keen eyes on the Palace and he was saying something to his passenger beside him, though his words were muted by the tinted screen of transparisteel and Enomoto didn't have enough experience in reading breaks to know what was being said. Beside him in a more conventional chair sat Enomoto's new footman, a green-skinned Boolean named Torill Voddher, who was nodding along to whatever was being said. Despite his position as Imperial Ambassador to the Commonwealth Enomoto had never had a personal servant, but after seeing how overworked his domestic staff was he had decided to relieve some of the load by hiring a man just for himself. Torill had only been on the job for a few months but so far he had no complaints.

To the rear of the air car sat a pair of Imperial Marines. They were clad in all blue-black power armor that rendered them practically anonymous, but despite that Enomoto knew who they were: he'd always had personal guards. The Zillar was Corporal Mardos Mepou, a white-scaled male who had crewed a privateer vessel during the Great Patriotic War and fought alongside Pokosian raiders in attacking Ternion shipping: he'd joined the Imperial Marines after the war and had gladly returned to Pokos as part of the squad of Imperial Marines attached to the embassy. At his side was Sergeant Melissa Bolton, a former Setulanite M.P. who'd been literally seduced out of the service by a visiting Imperial Marine vixen only to complete the training regimen herself to be posted with her to the Pokos embassy guard. Both sat quietly as was their custom, scanning for threats though Enomoto suspected they were wasting their time: even the Exiles had virtually no known presence in the Commonwealth.

But the one he really had eyes for was the lovely Alumina sitting across from him. Lunessa could have been a feline female version of himself, tall with arctic fur, short hair the color of cherry wood and a slim, fit body that was well-suited to formal wear. Where he was clad in the sable-purple robes traditional to the Xiscapian Diplomatic Corps she wore a little black strapless dress, complete with leggings that were partially for warmth and partially for style, with her hair cut into that tomboyish form he liked so much. They had met when he took a vacation to Alumi, and as the the eldest daughter of the village chieftain Lunessa had been obliged to show him around the secluded area. To this day Enomoto strongly suspected that her mother had set them up on purpose, but she needn't have bothered. The two had been enraptured by each other, she by his exotic qualities and wide travels and he by her humble down-to-earth attitude, and they were bound mates within a year.

She smiled at him, clasping her gloved hands over her knees. "A deci-credit for your thoughts? Or should that go up to a whole credit now that you are an Elder of the Royal Order of Tar?"

He couldn't help but chuckle even as he shook his head. "Honorary Elder, remember. The High Tar is just giving me a fancy title."

"And 75,000 Lochs a year and your own estate. That is a little more than purely honorary."

"How is that going, anyway? I've been so busy with preparations for this Hatching Day celebration that I haven't been able to keep up with what you've been doing with the place."

"Well the new carpets came in today so those should be getting laid down as we speak. That contractor still has not gotten back to me about adding that bathhouse wing that we wanted though. I take it this means you have not given any thought to the new staff we will have to hire?"

Enomoto sighed. "We've been over this. The Palace is perfectly happy to provide additional servants for whatever we need. You just need to give them enough time to find someone with the right skills."

"But I have already located seven specialists who have experience in caring for Great Winged Tyloai Wolves. It is not efficient to wait and make Sif go without proper care."

"It's a matter of how it looks, dear," he said, not unkindly. "Hiring domestically is important. That's why we have Songho and and Torill and Mardos and Melissa. Only Songho is Pokosian by ancestry, but they all live here on Pokos and by hiring them we contribute to the local economy. Bringing in an outsider is something we should try to avoid unless there's no other choice."

Lunessa was quiet for a moment, thinking it over. That was one of the things Enomoto loved about her. As passionate as she was, she gave everything due consideration. It was a byproduct of living in a place where you had to make ends meet every day: every idea had to be mulled over for merit before it could be dismissed, even with something as minor as exactly where new servants came from. At last she nodded. "Very well. When I see the High Tar I will be sure to thank him for all the new headaches he has gifted us."

He had to laugh at that. "Just let me do the talking when we see him."

"We're landing now, Ambassador," Songo reported over the intercom.

"Right on time." Standing, Enomoto offered his arm to Lunessa before looking to his guards. "As we discussed, Sergeant. You and the Corporal can stay here, it won't look good to bring armed guards to the High Tar's own function. If there's anything to report just let me know. Torill may be in and out as the party goes on, but you should contact me directly over the neural link if you need to talk."

"Yes sir. We'll be discreet, sir."

"Very good, Sergeant." With that he and Lunessa descended the stairs arm-in-arm.

by **Setulan** » Wed Aug 13, 2014 10:22 am

Setulan Embassy, Tranquietel

Vanessa Lorde loved parties. It was one of her more admirable qualities, in fact, and had been a major factor in her appointment to be the Republican Ambassador to the Pokosian Commonwealth. An old school monarchy combined with a very active nobility meant lots and lots of formal receptions and parties. Lorde - for all of her frankly cutthroat politicking in the People's House of first Limur and then the Republic - was excellent at schmoozing. She had a gift for making the politicians she had just ruthlessly undercut feel like they were supporting her for their own reasons. This gift, this tremendous capacity to get what she wanted out of people without an hurt feelings, made her an excellent diplomat.

The fact that she was widely considered the best looking woman in Setulan politics didn't exactly hurt, either.

A ravishing dark-haired beauty from the ice moon Limur, her alabaster skin and dark eyes had left broken hearts all over the floors of the legislature. At 6'6", she was tall for a Setulan woman and towered over many of the alien races that the Republic dealt with, but she refused to let that stop her from wearing heels ("I'm a woman, dammit, and if they can't deal with that they can piss off"). An avid cross-country skier and snowboarder, she maintained an almost fanatical level of fitness that only seemed to accentuate her womanly figure. After a brief tour at the embassy in Rio Casa, she had been promoted, at the age of 39, to be the chief diplomat for a highly trusted ally.

Finishing her makeup the Setulan rose from her vanity and strode purposefully out of her room, strapless red dress hanging on through what must have been magic. She flashed a smile to every staff member she walked by. Unlike their Xiscapian counterparts, the Setulan embassy didn't make an effort to hire local; all the staff in the building were members of the Setulan diplomatic service. While there were a few Pokosions in the mix, they were outnumbered by both Alversians and Kitsune.

The exception to the rule were the Military Police. Overwhelmingly big men and women, they prowled around the embassy like lions on leashes. The two guards who stood outside the gates were in their full dress uniforms, resplendent in their medals and blues. The guards inside the walls wore the more common Planetary Guard duty uniform and walked around with their side arms strapped to their thighs. Rarely, and only during times when the embassy itself could be attacked, would the last level of protection be used. The basement would be opened, and out would come MPs in MPBA, packing assault rail rifles and shotguns.

Fortunately, that wasn't an issue in the Commonwealth.

"Evening, Lucas," smiled the ambassador as she stepped out the door. Her bodyguard smiled back and opened the door for his charge.

"Ambassadress." Sergeant First Class Lucas Torres, Diplomatic Protective Services, Military Police, was a massively muscled Setulan with skin so dark it was almost onyx. After being wounded on Ferra, he had been reassigned to his Hive's MP Pistol Team before being "shanghaied" over to the DPS. He closed the door behind Lorde and got into the front of the vehicle, powering up the anti-grav. The vehicle powered away silently towards the palace.

Vanessa allowed her smile to fade as she looked out the window at the high towers that flashed by. Her face would start to hurt if she kept it up indefinitely, and she needed her pearly whites ready to flash for the cameras. Enomoto was getting some kind of high honor or another, and she when the reporters couldn't get to him they would turn to her, asking questions she couldn't possibly answer. It seemed to many in the Commonwealth that AXIS was AXIS, and each of the separate components should all be entirely clued in to the every other nation. She would enjoy seeing the Kitsune, of course, and she adored his bond mate, so she could at least count on it to not be a tedious night. In the worst case scenario, she mused as a car missed her own by what seemed like mere meters, she could always flirt with the Tar's advisers. As the hover car pulled up to the palace, she got ready to dismount.

"Lucas..." White teeth stood out starkly as the driver smiled.

"If you need me, I'll be around. I saw the Kitsune Marines over there. I'll be with them."

Plastering on a sincere smile, Vanessa Lorde stepped onto the red carpet that so closely matched her dress and sauntered down the stairs.

by **O Boyce** » Sat Aug 16, 2014 12:06 am

Augesh 13, 2630 SFY,
City of Tranquietel, Pokos
Sinners Gulch

Sinners Gulch was one of the seediest locales in the massive mountain city. It was a den of criminals, fugitives, black market dealers, murderers, and some worse and some better. It was where Madison lived. The location of the neighborhood helped add to the mystique. The gulch was on the back side of the mountain where it met the rest of the range that Tranquietel sprouted from. It was literally in the small valley were the slope of the Holy Mountain met the slope of the range. There was a small trickle of a stream that ran down the middle of the valley. It had been there since the mountain had grown into its full glory. Coming from a freshwater spring that bubbled to the surface in what was now the grounds of the Temple of H’sleasmt, the God of thieves and the lost. The temple itself stood at the head of the valley, overlooking the entirety of Sinners Gulch. It was originally named after the God that it was associated with, but after the guild wars during the hectic twenty years before unification, it was the home to some of the worst criminals and thieves, murders, and sinners. The ‘Stain church had once set up a monastery near the temple, the monks of the faith tried their hardest to calm the strain and the troubled waters of the residents but to no avail and left, naming it Sinners Gulch and leaving the monastery to those who lived there. Now it was the home to one of the more prominent guilds, the Assassins Guild. Now Madison was not someone with the reputation to be able to be considered a true criminal. To anyone who saw her, be them true criminals or their innocent families, would even give her a second look.

She walked down the small path that went along the H’sleasmt stream. The course of the stream was now less wandering as it had been in the past. A concrete wall on either side guiding it downslope in an easy ‘S’ pattern prevented it from doing so. The walkway lined with shade loving trees and small planter boxes with ferns that could have used more love and attention than they actually got. The arborists never really made it down to this part of the city on a regular basis. The air here was a bit thicker than it was further towards the summit. Here it hung in between the high walls of the valley and held the strong aroma of habitation. The smell of cooking, the making of things were prevalent. It made Madison twitch her beak as she walked uphill. Her small apartment was a little bit better than what she had gotten when she first moved to the city. Instead of the small studio that was on the lower section of the valley and dark and wet, now she lived in a decent complex on the south slope of the small valley, high enough to catch some of the cool mountain breezes that did occasionally flow through.

As she entered her building she checked herself in the glass of the doors as the opened. The paint that she had put on her beak was the common style around here, something that her mother and father would of killed her for should she had worn that paint when she was younger. Her family was rather rich, or was, before her father Pyteck got an entire regiment of soldiers routed during the opening stages of the Battle of Ranus V. He was disgraced, stripped of his noble status and kicked out of the Council of Elders. Her entire family was disgraced and moved to the Gulch to get away from the mocking eyes. He did not live long after the disgrace. After the war he spent a year working at the military headquarters doing low level work until the disgrace was too much and he killed himself by making a solo flight to Plaktea and not using the proper equipment. Her mother did the same a week later out of grief. That left Madison and her brother. She stayed in the Gulch, living and working the best she could and started getting involved in the counter culture. Her brother did the opposite and wound up enlisting and working his way up in the ranks until he was an officer in the Sword of the Tar. Prestigious, but none the less embarrassing to her seeing all that the monarchy had done to her family.

Madison shook off the thoughts of her family and entered the elevator that would take her to her floor. From there she went directly to her apartment. A two nestroom affair with a balcony that overlooked the valley below. Even for a seedy neighborhood, it did not look the part. Even criminals want to live somewhere nice. Everything shined like polished brass just as much as the rest of the mountain city. From her balcony she could see almost the base of the mountain, the Terminus Wall that had been built hundreds of solani ago still stood out amongst the modern city. It was now a park, that ran the entire terminus of the mountain and created an odd green strip before the city spread out into the suburbs. In some places like where Madison could see from her balcony, there were no trees, just open field with the massive stone wall standing as a testament of Pokosian history and imagination. It had been a long time since she had enjoyed her balcony for any reason. The gusts of fresh mountain air refreshed her and reminded her of her flying lessons when she was younger, when her family was richer and it was encouraged to fly with ones own wings. A sudden gust tussled her feathers and she immediately began to preen, getting every single feather that had gone out of place back to where it belonged. Madison envied the non avian species for not having to deal with feathers, hair seemed all to easier to manage, even if she did hate them all.

It did not take long before her personal thoughts were broken by the sound of her communicator chirping. She activated it and answered.

“This is Madison” She stated calmly, her avian eyes narrowing in focus.

“Everything is set. Are you ready?” The deep male voice asked.

Madison smiled, or as much as an avian could smile. She was ready; she had been ready the day her father died. Now it was time to make everything right.

“Yes, inform all other cells, today is the day of the revolution” She said, almost religiously.

“Stand by for site to site transport” The male voice responded again.

There was a high pitched whine as the transporter began to work it’s magic. Taking apart Madison particle by particle harmlessly and putting it back together in order at the location desired. During this whole process all she saw was what looked like a blue wash of water, or raindrops over her field of vison. It was odd to think about, being taken apart and being put back together in a different location but it was a tried and proven Pokosian technology, although rarely used with the exception of emergencies and even then usually for cargo. It was an expensive tech, and the only people who had control over it was the military. Lucky for her, some of her co-revolutionaries were in the military, and in this instance, posted at the Tranquietel transporter hub. The view from her balcony was replaced with a small stone room that felt as though it had been there for centuries. She knew that it had been. It was a little used storehouse built right into the Humbistean Walls, just inside the district.

On the far side of the small room was a series of duffel bags and a small group of Pokosians all wearing the uniforms of palace staff. One of them handed her a duffel and she began to strip off her robes and put on the dark black robes of a palace staff as well. It was all part of the plan. Sneak in, plant the bomb, sneak out and then lead the revolution and help the people rise up and replace the current monarchy with something that worked better. She would prefer it to be another monarch, the Pokosian people didn’t know anything else and would not know what to do with it. But if it was a true democracy she would not bat an eye. Changes needed to be made.

“Are you ready to change the world?” One of the revolutionaries asked.

“As always. Let us move, we must place the bombs and get out of here. We have a revolution to begin” Madison stated and led the group out into the Forum beyond and up towards the craggy summit that held the Royal Palace.

She looked up at the palace, the Forum was at the base of the massive rock that constituted the summit of the mountain. The Royal Palace sprouted from the living stone as if it was grown, not built. The forum itself was stepped, so that it could still conform to the slope of the mountain. This massive open space was in ancient times a marketplace and sacred place where the Royals would have their ceremonies and the voting of laws was done here long ago. The golden dome of the Council of Elders glistened in the sun of the days light. It was a glorious thing to see, especially in this historic part of the city. The Humbistean district was the oldest, and the Forum of Humbistea was lined with Bath Houses, Temples, Royal Offices, and all manner of important buildings that could trace their lineage and their founding stones all the way to 1 SFY. It was a shame that she would have to detonate a bomb in amongst all this history. It pained her, but it had to be done.

The small band of revolutionaries walked through the terraced forum towards the living rock of the Palace and towards the Doors of Destiny. A set of doors carved from the stone of the mountain and opened up to a ornate marble staircase that led upwards in a massive spiral until it reached the grand hall of the Royal Palace. That is where they would set off the bomb, just near the ancient, and nearly never used Throne of the High Tar.

Augesh 13, 2630 SFY
City of Tranquietel, Pokos
Humbistean District

The almost black feathers of Armerelos clashed horribly with the crimson robes of Pokosian royalty. He was for sure a reluctant monarch. His father was the one who took the throne after the Commonwealth had broken its term of isolation and joined the Danniversian War. Armerelos expected his father to live forever and was shocked to see him slain in battle against the enemy. The first time the High Tar had died in combat for centuries. It was a first for many, but even as court historians were already working on their biographies of the person that was his father, they were also raising Armerelos to the throne. It was a task he took with the understanding that he would do the best he could to serve his people. He led them out of the war and into a period of peace and prosperity that the Commonwealth has not seen for some time. Now, amongst the many honorary titles that he would carry if he had been crowned, but he also held the title of Reuniter of the Colonies, which was just an event that happened during his reign, not that he was personally responsible for it, even if his signature was on the exploration missions that found the old colonies and brought them back into the fold. Titles or not he was just a person who wanted to pursue his passions and do right by his family. Now, his family included the Trillions of Pokosians that lived all across the galaxies and his hobbies and passions had to cater to their needs and their wants. He knew that there would not always be a consensus. He knew that there would be some that were unsatisfied. After all the planning he had put into the ceremony that would take place tonight, he hoped that many if not most of the Pokosian people would understand the decisions he had made that would make this night possible.

The district was alive with action as staff and nobility rushed about on last second preparations for the party and the ceremony. He expected there to be many in attendance and full well expected that a select few would show up early. There was the Xiscapian Ambassador that he knew would most likely come early to discuss things, mostly his recent promotion that was going to be announced at the ceremony tonight to all in attendance. Armerelos chirped to himself in delight at the joke of it all, and the seriousness that the joke had been made. Giving a non Pokosian a royal title ennobling him into the Pokosian nobility was only that tip of the spear. He had a feeling this unsettled the Ambassador, if only in the slightest. Perhaps the Xiscapian did not fully understand the importance of the decision that was made, but he would by the end of the night. The Setulan Ambassador he also expected to show up early. A woman who almost never missed a royal ball or function, she was personal favorite of Armerelos’s mate, Artuea. Those two were thick as thieves at times, so much so that he would not have been surprised if they were found running around Sinners Gulch. She was also a favorite of many of the male members of the nobility, even if she was non avain, beauty was beauty.

At the moment though, Armerelos was striding down the long staircase that led out into the Forum of Humbistea. His personal guard from the Sword of the Tar walked in silence behind him with their sabers and dress robes in perfect condition. Their polished helmets and buttons shone in the light as the group exited the staircase and out into the open air, passing a group of staff as they worked their way in. Fresh cold air rushed over him as he continued to walk outwards into the forum. He took a deep breath and savored every second of it. He enjoyed fresh air much more than how stuffy some of the buildings in this district got. But it was a sacrifice he had to make since he rarely got to leave, at least since the war ended. His occasional escape out to be a regular person in the lower sections of the city incognito or his excursions to the summer palaces in Cardinair, or on Plaktea, or the one time he traveled all the way to Kodos to officially welcome the colony back into the Commonwealth.

Armerelos was very close with his guards, and very rarely did he expect any of them to show the curtesy that a royal normally demanded. They were there to protect him, but sometimes that protection included from boredom, and talking about family and interests was something that Armerelos loved. It made him a capable diplomat, and a great friend to those who called him so. One of those many friends was now walking across the forum towards the High Tar. Armerelos automatically knew who it was, from the gait and the general air of superiority it could of only been someone from the flock Lucksee, and the only Lucksee that was in this district right now was one that had been offworld for years as ambassador to the Kitsune Empire in Rio Casa. The deep purple robes that Lucksee wore was one of the Flock of Intelligence, a red sash across his strong chest covered in medals earned during the war and before, several were stars which indicted Orders of Knighthood. All of them Armerelos recognized, because he had given them all to him, with the exception to the medals given to Lucksee from Xiscapia, Alversia, Setulan, Senni, and the other various allies during the war that Lucksee happened to work with during the many campaigns of the war.

Lucksee stopped right before the High Tar and bowed deeply, a trait that he picked up during his stay in Rio Casa. The Pokosian biology made it naturally hard to bow, and had to be practiced over and over to be gotten right and not painful. It had taken up root here in Tranquietel too, as many veterans returned from the war. Armerelos bowed back in respect and awaited for Lucksee to begin to speak.

“Your Majesty, it is good to see you” Lucksee stated with a warble of humor.

“It is a pleasure to see you as well Ambassador. How are things in Rio Casa?” Armerelos asked, merely as a formality, he read all the reports the ambassador wrote.

“Things are well. I found a very lovely café not too far of a walk from the embassy that serves some of the best food that I have had since leaving the Commonwealth. I also have to say that there are a decent amount of Pokosians that are doing business in the Kitsune Empire” The Ambassador said in reply.

Armerelos started to walk forward towards the short red carpet that sat near the gates of the district. Lucksee joined the small group as they walked, and he and the High Tar chatted merrily about family interests. Lucksee for instance had taken up Kitsune Theater as an interest, and went on in great length and the latest of a series of plays that he attended. He also spoke much of his family, most of which still lived on the hereditary lands on Plaktea that had been in that flock for hundreds of solani. Armerelos spoke of family as well, discussing the recent clutch of eggs that had just been birthed by his lovely mate, who at this time was still in the palace, sitting atop them to keep them warm before it was time to put them in the incubator so she could join the festivities. The High Tar spoke also of the many, many things that he had little time for but held his interest none the less. They spoke about sports and teams, until they had reached the head of the red carpet. It had been laid out early, for those who Armerelos expected to show up early. That must have been a queue for those in the news and gossip industries to send their reporters and their paparazzi to do everything but storm the district themselves to discover what was going on in the Royal Palace.

“So how do you feel about this Ambassador?” Armerelos asked sincerely and suddenly.

There was a pause, the Ambassador did not expect the question, especially from the monarch.

“Your Majesty knows best, but if I may speak freely” Lucksee responded after pondering the question, rubbing his beak thoughtfully.

Armerelos nodded wordlessly, staring blankly out over the city through the massive marble gates of the Humbistean District.

“Your Majesty is taking a big risk. There is much that can go wrong. Tensions have been high with the lower classes since the war. That is not to say that they do not hate all the good that has come since we have broken our isolation, but the thousands dead, the lives shattered, all during a war that did not directly affect the Commonwealth. On top of that now you plan to…” Lucksee paused “Well let’s just say that people won’t be happy. Rumors through my office and through the Flock of Intelligence say that not only is there a strong, growing counter culture to the monarchy but there are many out among our allies that would love to see our monarchy fall due to the sheer fact it is a monarchy”

The words were nothing that the High Tar didn’t expect. The Ambassador had always been one who spoke the truth and without the flourishes of what many at court did. Flattery was not the way to his heart but respect, honesty and loyalty did.

“You are right as usual Ambassador. As such I have replaced much of the Foot Guards that usually guard the District and the Palace with another whole Battalion of the Sword of the Tar. An unpopular move, but they are loyal, and have a sworn oath to me and only me. It has been a balancing act but I would rather have them here in case of a major issue than the Foot Guards. Don’t get me wrong. They are good soldiers, not many are better, but they are loyal to the people and the Commonwealth, I just happen to be their monarch” Armerelos replied.

As they talked two transports came floating up with distinct grace and control. The first being the Xiscapian Ambassadors craft. There could be no mistaking it. As Enomoto exited the craft and his companion were escorted forward towards the very small royal party, Armerelos could not help but to be glad to see the old friend. A smile spread across the monarchs face as Enomoto was close enough to speak with.

“Ambassador, it has been far too long since these hallowed walls have seen your presence. Now something appears to be bothering you friend. Do tell Ambassador, I hear a rumor that there are Pokosia-Kitsune hybrids in the Kitsune Empire. Now all I hear are rumors but love is love as I always say” Armerelos said in a loud, laughing chirp.

While they were talking the Setulan Ambassadress was arriving as well, her red dress leaving little to the imagination and there was many in the Royal party and among the guards posted about the forum that were keeping a keen eye on her for more reasons than just security. She was a stronger willed person than many Armerelos had seen. Of the many non avain, or non kitsune species that he had met she was the only one that seemed to be able to handle the cold air of the mountain capital. The summit and the district that capped it was well above the timberline and if it was not for the constant work of the maintenance crews would be smothered in snow. She too was escorted forward.

by **Xiscapia** » Sun Aug 17, 2014 2:48 am

Augesh 13, 2630 SFY (Y.O.O.R. Emperor Foxfire Rose 27)
Humbistean District of Tranquietel
Royal Palace

Enomoto saw the High Tar, Armerelos II, right away. He smiled, which only widened as he spied Ambassador Lucksee beside him. His old friend was always a welcome sight, since the day he had graciously taken the Xiscapian in aboard his ship when they had both been ejected from a Talythian meeting for the crime of being born non-human. Lunessa was smiling too, though for a somewhat different reason. She and Lucksee got along well enough, but he knew it was Armerelos's mate Artuea that she was looking forward to seeing, because at an event like this finding Artuea meant that the Setulanite Ambassadress Vanessa Lorde wouldn't be far, and then the three of them would become almost inseparable. Artuea and Lunessa were probably better friends than he and Armerelos, and he sometimes wondered if the two of them compared notes.

“Ambassador, it has been far too long since these hallowed walls have seen your presence. Now something appears to be bothering you friend. Do tell Ambassador, I hear a rumor that there are Pokosia-Kitsune hybrids in the Kitsune Empire. Now all I hear are rumors but love is love as I always say."

"Love is true and so are the rumors, mi'lord," he bowed low, perfectly synchronized with Lunessa as she did likewise. They took a moment to bow to Lucksee as well, showing him all due respect. "There are indeed halfbreeds in the Kitsune Empire now, though the debate is whether to call them kits, chicks or something else," he chuckled himself as he straightened. "It is good to be here mi'lord, and thank you very much for inviting my mate and I. Happy Hatching Day, by the way." But even past all the words his tail curled, and whether the High Tar was perceptive enough to somehow figure out his discomfort with the honor that had been thrust upon him.

by **Setulan** » Mon Aug 18, 2014 10:36 am

When Vanessa Lorde walked down the red carpet and finally got to the collection of worthies, she didn't bow. It wasn't a particular Setulan thing to do in the first place, and while many had taken it up as a way to greet Xiscapians, Lorde wasn't one of them. She instead greeted the High Tar with a smile and a handshake.

"A lovely hatching day to you, my lord! May it presage many more lovely days and celebrations!" Her beaming face had a shadow behind the eyes, one that could be easily tied to consternation over the events happening back in her home. "And Ambassador Lucksee! Truly a gathering of worthies for your birthday." She shook his hand as well, manicured fingers flashing. Lucksee was certainly somebody it was a privilege to see; one of the many medals on his chest was the red star of a Paragon of the Republic, the highest military honor Setulan bestowed, which the ambassador had earned the hard way by rescuing a platoon of Planetary Guardsmen from near certain death in the closing days of the Danaversian War.

A quick, entirely undiplomatic squeeze to the upper arm was all the warning Artuea would have before she was embraced in an enthusiastic hug, the Setulan looking over her shoulder at Enomoto.

"Oh, don't look at me like that. She likes me more anyway." Releasing the Alumina, she shook the Kitsune's paw as well. "Congratulations on this most auspicious of days for your great honor, ambassador."

Royal Palace, Exterior

Lucas Torres looked around with a sharp eye as he walked from where he parked the car to where the Xiscapian Marines were standing. He had noticed the Sword of the Tar stationed around the palace in lieu of the regular Foot Guards, and it worried him. Though word was still trickling through in drips and drabs, it was clear that the Exiles had extensively infiltrated AXIS and were embarked on a massive terror campaign. Across Setulan, Alversia, Xiscapia, and the SSA, there were acts of murder, sabotage, and assassinations.

Yet for reasons that were so far unclear to the MP, the Pokosian Commonwealth was entirely untouched.

Granted, they were hardly the most powerful military in the alliance. But it was entirely foolish to underestimate them, as the Danaversians had learned time and again. The Pokosians had been at the forefront of some of the most violent and horrific fighting in a violent and horrific war, and they had performed, on the whole, very well. It made no sense that they would be remain unmolested. They were a threat, and the Exiles would be fools to not recognize it.

Lucas had reached one of two conclusions. In the first scenario, they were planning something so huge that it was taking longer than expected to go off. In the second, they knew something he didn't. The counterculture movement was growing, yes, but was it enough to justify this absence of attacks?

The veteran of more wars than he wanted to think of didn't like either option.

With a last look over the grounds, he reached the Marines. Nodding cordially, he offered them smokes before lighting one himself. Hopefully, he could look forward to a long, boring night...

by **O Boyce** » Wed Aug 20, 2014 8:23 pm

Augesh 13 2630 SFY,
City of Tranquietel, Pokos
Hubistean District

The feathers on Madison’s head stood on end as the Royal entourage passed her band of co-revolutionaries as they worked their way up the massive carved marble stairs the led into the royal throne room that was going to be used as the place where the celebrations were going to be held. It took all the strength of her will not to attempt an assassination on the High Tar. She knew that there were many who were awaiting her command to begin the revolution. The plan was to set off the bomb and lead the people to take over the Commonwealth. Now how easy that would be is up to debate but if she deviated from the plan now, more things could go wrong. When things were planned to the second in events like this one, even the smallest delay or issue could cause things to spiral out of control. So as the Royal presence passed by down the stairs all she did was glare with hatred, that was all she could risk. She could only imagine what her other companions did, she put too much focus on the task at hand.

It did not take long for they small group to reach the top of the stairs. One by one they filed up passed the final flight of stairs and into the cavernous space that was the throne room. Massive obsidian carved pillars held up the equally massive roof. Almost every space of wall was decorated with multitudes of friezes and carvings that depicted important events in Pokosian people. The most recent depicting the victorious Pokosian troops marching up the Royal Avenue all the way up the mountain during the VD day (Victory over the Dannaversians Day). Madison almost spat at the carvings as they walked passed it, but she held it back. The room was also lined by massive statues of each of the High Tars that had reigned in this throne room. Excluding the High Tars of the Second High Kingdom that was established in Cardinair, and the few from the united Kingdom-Commonwealth that had set up court in the same city. It was something all Pokosians had to learn from hatching. Everybody had their own favorite, even Madison. She tended to be an old school person when it came to that. She liked the pre-Unification Tars. They were always fighting and making decisions that would lead their people to new heights or new lows but they were active and leading from the front and caring for their people. Not sitting behind a desk and making ill informed decisions and only leading from the front when it worked for them politically.

At the far end of the hall was the throne. A humble affair of a seat molded out of solid marble and obsidian. There was no decoration other than the gold inlay on the high part of the seat depicting the royal seal, ever so more different than the High Tars of the past as every seal was different depending on the person and the dynasty. As they got closer and the other attendants in the royal hall were all busy putting together the scene for what would be a grand party. Madison was slightly impressed. The High Tar was really not pulling any of the stops. Huge silk banners hung from the ceiling. Along the long walls and pillars hung the flags of the duchies and minor kingdoms that all owed patronage to the High Tar and the Commonwealth. Around certain areas hung the flags and pendants of the many different offworld attendees that would be arriving as well. The flags for Xiscapia, Setulan, and many others hung with the same care as those that belonged to the Commonwealth. Behind the throne hung the massive and ornate Royal Standard, that every regiment in the Commonwealth carried along with their Regimental Flag and the National.

Madison and her band worked up to the throne and began to look busy as she pulled off the small bag that was slung over her back and began to go through it. Guards posted around the room only saw a few palace servants around the throne polishing and sweeping. One of the last tasks that needed to be taken care of that was saved for last. Madison pulled out the device and began to type in code after code that would set the timing, range of explosion, and damage dealt etc. Another member of the team lifted a small grate behind the throne that was for ventilation. It was only a few feet behind it and was carved out of the rock and floor of the palace. Cool air flowed in naturally through it, and it now held the bomb that would hopefully detonate and decapitate the royalty. Once the team was done she checked a with them one by one that each of their tasks had been completed and they all slinked away as best they could, looking busy or on a task that looked important. Madison herself slinked out of the side of the palace and passed yet another regal figure that she instantly recognized as the mate of the High Tar. She was as beautiful as Madison had imagined. Even on the nightly news or during taped interviews the High Taress looked the part of a ruler and had the beauty of a goddess. Madison herself choked back a chirp of surprise and delight as they passed.

Down one long arched corridor after another Madison worked her way to a point in which she could be extracted. Her evac point was in a small courtyard just outside the Royal Residence on the south side of the palace. After one more door she burst out into the open sunlight of the courtyard and she ran directly to the middle of the yard, looking around the pillared and arched walls around. All of the windows were closed and other than the plants that lined the walls there was little sound. Madison pulled out the small communicator out of the pocket of her robes and began to dial it in to the right frequency.

“This is leader, standing by for evac” Madison stated clearly into the communicator.

There was another rustle of the breeze but Madison ignored it.

“Leader, this is boatman, stand by for transport” A voice responded.

The rustling got louder and there was a sudden yank on her wing, pulling Madison around to where she was facing her own brother, beak to beak. Both of them eyes wide with shock.

“Madison!” Johm shouted loudly.

“Johm!” She shouted back in surprise.

His Sword of the Tar uniform a polished black that absorbed even the bright light of the midday sun at this altitude. His grip got a little tighter.

“What are you doing up here?” He exclaimed.

“I am sorry brother, but I really must be going…” Her words were cut off by the whine of the transporter beam.

Within seconds Madison was gone, and Johm was standing there in the courtyard alone and confused. He felt as though he should report this, but should he. It was her sister and he had no idea what she was doing here, matter of fact he had not even talked to her in years. Not since the dual suicides of his parents. All he knew was that he had a very very bad feeling about things.

***************

Armerelos stood amongst his friends, which he always enjoyed and something that he rarely got to do. Lucksee almost never was on Pokos, let along the Trelani system at all since his appointment of Ambassador to the Kitsune Empire. The tall ex-military officer was someone that could shadow anyone with the feeling of awe. His golden beak cracked in a few places where some very hard Dannaversian punches and landed. There was no sign of what the enemy received but from the sharpness of his eyes and of his beak one could only imagine that the enemy received beak and talon with shrewd response. Enomoto shared the same sharp acuity that Armrerelos appreciated and admired, and the Setulan Ambassadress had the sultry looks and voice of one who could charm anything and anyone out of anything.

It made him smile, but he knew there was much on Enomotos mind. Armerelos motioned for the group to follow him and they began to walk back towards the palace and the massive doors the lead up into the grand hall. While he they walked he talked.

“Thank you Vanessa for your kind words, I hope you are not too cold up here at these altitudes” He replied to the Ambassadresses kind words.

“You know my mate has been asking about you as of late, I hope that she will be joining us soon so that the ladies could run off and be as one, as you ladies always do” Armerelos winked at Vanessa and chirped happily.

He then added more to the conversation as they passed under the archway of the massive marble doors that led up the equally massive staircase.

“My friend Enomoto, I know much weighs on your mind. Especially the honor that I have bestowed upon you. As noble and selfless as the nobles of the Council of Elders are, they all come from stuffy flocks that have been around since the Unification, some even before then. Their minds are blocked from seeing the future. Many of the new laws and ideas have been coming from the lesser houses, such as the Council of Lessers and Council Popular. I need new blood. Blood that I can trust to steer those who are unwilling in the direction needed. Your guiding hand was instrumental in the Commonwealth finding it’s place in AXIS during and after the war. I need that hand now. What you do not know, and what many do not know except myself, my mate, and now you two. Enomoto, not only are you a holder of the Order of the Tar, but as such you have, by tradition, adopted into the Royal Flock. Placing you sixtieth in line to the throne” Armerelos stopped at the top of the long staircase and looked deeply at the throne that now loomed at the end of the massive hall they now stood in.

There was a pause as he let it sink in before going on.

“Now that is a kink that I can assure you may not go over well and I have kept it well hidden until now. But it is the tradition that all who are admitted to that Royal Order are to be only members of the Royal Flock. So I had no choice but to adopt you. My royal scholars are actually as we speak adding your name to the rosters and all Royal Flock documents” Armerelos added, smiling and waiting for a reply as he set the great hall and his sudden news to make its mark.

by **Xiscapia** » Wed Aug 27, 2014 3:44 am

Augesh 13, 2630 SFY (Y.O.O.R. Emperor Foxfire Rose 27)
Humbistean District of Tranquietel
Royal Palace

Enomoto had to laugh again as Vanessa wrapped her arms around his mate. Lunessa looked so surprised for a moment, ears shooting straight up as her eyes widened and her tail whipped, but she was hugging the tall woman back a moment later. "What you say is sadly true, at least where these events are concerned," he took the Setulanite's hand, bowing at the same time. "Thank you, Ambassadress. I can only hope that one day they can see the wisdom of appointing you a similar position."

But despite his words the kitsune felt even more troubled than before as he turned away. That Vanessa could still so much as summon a smile in these dark times was a testament to her courage and fortitude, but he knew that she was no less battered by the war in her homeland than any other Setulanite. Perhaps even more so, given her position where doing her very duty meant staying so far away from the Republic. The Exile War cast a pall even over these happy proceedings, and it was one he could feel as if it were casting a cold shadow over them all even as they walked through the palace. Only when Armerelos began to speak was he properly shaken out of his thoughts.

He could feel rather than see Lunessa falling in behind him on the stairs, walking beside Vanessa so he and the High Tar could walk together, but he knew the Alumina's ears would be swiveled forward so she could hear every word. "I'm afraid I have no more clairvoyance than your nobles, sire," he managed, but they both knew full well what the Pokosian was talking about. The Commonwealth wasn't the same nation it had been ten or even five year ago, and the changing times needed changing officials, something that Armerelos was more than wise enough to see. Yet that fell away as the avian informed him that he had been adopted into the Royal Flock. Enomoto turned his head to look at the High Tar, ears jolting high as he stared at him. He was well-studied in Pokosian political structures, and he knew even before Armerelos said it what that meant.

Sixtieth in line. Following the High Tar's gaze, he looked at the plain, elegant throne that sat below. Any idea of sitting on it in any official capacity faded quickly given the sheer number of people between him and it, but that's not what made his belly feel like it was full of snakes. It was not going to go over well, he knew, not with the more conservative elements of the Commonwealth. Not everyone had accepted the idea of even rubbing shoulders with foreigners, never mind having one in line for the throne however distant he was. Swallowing, he just nodded.

"This is a great honor mi'lord, greater than I ever would have expected," he said, quite truthfully. "I thank you from the bottom of my heart. It's certainly commendable that you have followed through so strongly with your ideals. I assure you that you will never lack for council from myself. And yet," the tod paused, choosing his words carefully, "you have kept with tradition by admitting me to the Royal Flock, and yet you also break it at the same time. What of the more xenophobic elements of the Commonwealth? What will you say to them?"

----

Sergeant Bolton was standing just outside the door of the hover car as she ran yet another routine scan of the courtyard with her suit's sensors. The Xiscapian military as a whole didn't believe in dress uniforms, or indeed any kind of uniform outside of power armor, and it had gotten to the point where the blue-black suit fit over her like a second skin. Unfortunately that did nothing to reduce her longing to feel the air on her bare skin, so while it was technically against regulations she'd lowered her helmet to expose her head. The Setulanite woman's olive skin hadn't paled in the slightest from being cooped up in the suit for so long, though she'd long since buzzed her dark hair short in a style she'd kept from her M.P. days. Across from her the other being could hardly be more different.

Corporal Mepou was a Zillar, hailing from the former Republic, now Stratocracy, that had given the Milky Way nations of the Coalition so much trouble during the Great Patriotic War. Unlike her the reptilian alien hadn't been a soldier before joining the Imperial Marines, and in some distant past he'd been a merchant spacer if the records were to be believed. Much more famous and relevant were the days he'd spent as a privateer, fighting with Pokosian commerce raiders in attacking largely Zillar shipping on commission from the Commonwealth. One eye was an intense, electric blue while the other was little more than a sheet of plate metal with a beady black sensor where a vibroblade had taken the other eye out. She was sure one of the reasons he lived here was because that lost eye and his war stories still got him free drinks practically wherever he went.

"The guards are different," he was observing as he looked up at the palace and the Pokosian soldiers formed around it.

"Sword of the Tar, personal troops of the High Tar. Think Black Guard."

"Strange. Do they normally replace the Foot Guard for occasions like this?"

"Not that I've seen. They're beefing up security, probably on orders from the High Tar himself."

"We didn't get a warning about any threats."

Bolton snorted. "Which one should we get an update on? The Exiles, the Company, the Sons of Arel? They've all got their own reasons for targeting an event like this. Even if intelligence isn't aware of a plan in the works that doesn't mean it doesn't exist. He's probably doing the right thing."

"I don't like it."

"You don't have to like it." A telltale whisper alerted her to Torres's approach, and she turned to greet the other Setulanite bodyguard as he stepped up. She waved off the smoke he offered, but Mepou took one to clamp between his jaws. That was against regulations too. Instead of saying anything she just looked up at the palace and the Sword of the Tar and wondered what was it about the Zillar's words that had her on edge. She could feel it coming from Torres too, and Bolton shifted from one foot to the other as she frowned. If she was honest with herself she didn't like it either.

"What do you make of it, Sergeant?" she asked Lucas. It wouldn't do any good to keep picking at it like an old scab, she knew, but she had known Lucas ever since being posted to the embassy and she valued his thoughts. Even if she wasn't entirely sure what she was asking about -Enomoto's honor, the changing of the guard or otherwise.

by **Setulan** » Wed Aug 27, 2014 6:51 am

Royal Palace

Walking next to Lunessa, Vanessa couldn't entirely conceal a slight widening of her eyes that was largely went unnoticed at the High Tar's statement that Enomoto was being adopted. It was a massive honor to be sure, one that would make the poor Xiscapian ambassador even more uncomfortable. In another age (Lorde had vivid memories of history classes on the old Setulan Empire) that would be a perfect excuse for the Kitsune Empire to pull a coup; as it was, it was simply honorary.

Except for the incredible danger involved.

On the bright side, at least Enomoto was loved by the High Tar. More importantly for the Setulan, the Kitsune's favor meant a better chance that the Commonwealth would send men and material to her home. It was a coldblooded calculation to be sure. She knew that the same factors that made Enomoto's ascension and adoption dangerous for the High Tar were amplified a thousandfold by even the consideration of sending Pokosian troops to another foreign war...but that wasn't her problem, not anymore. The destruction of Victory Square had eradicated the headquarters of the Republican Foreign Service, and the only orders she had received - if they could be called that - had been in the form of candid conversations between various diplomats across the galaxies. The general consensus had been "do everything you can, and damn the consequences."

Though she didn't interrupt the conversation, she was already mentally preparing herself for the high level diplomacy (read: lies, blackmail, and begging) she would need to perform...

------

"What do you make of it, Sergeant?"

Torres stood for a second, scanning the surroundings casually and taking a long drag on his smoke.

"Stupid. This whole thing. Really fucking stupid." Not taking his eyes off the perimeter, he began ticking off points on his free hand.

"I don't know if the High Tar doesn't realize it, or if he just doesn't care. But there is a lot xenophobia in this place. Lots of it. And it's stupid xenophobia. Not like the way we feel about the Dans. Inclusion in AXIS has been a massive help for the Commonwealth, and conservative fuckwits are fighting it. So now the Tar adds a foreigner - of the most visible and disliked xeno variety - to the government. I laud his intentions, but his timing blows. Whoever is advising him is advising him badly."

Finger two came up.

"The Exiles make a fucking mess. We need a stable ally here. It's only a matter of time till Lorde gets her way, and Enomoto is gonna help. So will the Alvies and the Sen. So now, instead of having a reliable, domestically strong ally, we have a domestically split nation whose underclass is furious and unhappy."

Digit three.

"Zero intelligence. None. I know you don't have any either. Lots of elements would love to put a bomb right in there, and the entire royal family is just having a fucking party. And the worst part is, clearly something is up. New guards, and no notice to us? Somebody is getting paranoid, but apparently didn't want us to think about it either."

A long drag.

"So yeah. I think it's pretty fucking stupid."

by **O Boyce** » Wed Aug 27, 2014 11:40 pm

Augesh 13 2630 SFY,
City of Tranquietel, Pokos
Royal Hall

Armerelos chirped laughter. The kind that brought a giant avian smile across his beak and it echoed across the entire hall, causing some to stop and look at the small group of high ranking dignitaries before going back to the work they had been assigned. Armerelos was not surprised by his good friends response, nor to the silent and less noticeable response from Vanessa. He knew that humble Enomoto would be rather taken aback by the honor not to mention make him feel rather uncomfortable, but it was something that Armerelos respected about the Xiscapian. To be humble was a sign of respect and was one of the values that Pokosians valued most. So was tradition.

“You are quite right my friend. There are many who would see that me elevating someone from another race as a bit sacrilegious. At least to many who are of the conservative type. There is the ‘Freedom’ party as it were, that has become rather popular. Matter of fact, much of the Council Popular are members of that political party. But not all are very xeno-phobic, matter of fact many are veterans of the war and many were even volunteers. It is more of an issue of not thinking things through all the way. The times before we broke our isolation, everything was discussed nearly to death before any decision was made. Not like anyone was in a rush. But now, we are on a bigger stage and there are more than just the Commonwealth upon it” Armerelos began, as he did he turned his avain gaze to Setulan Ambassadress “Such is the case of aiding your people Ambassadress. I have announced several proposals to the Councils, they have carried in the Council of Elders and usually the Council of Lessers, but every time there is a ‘Freedom’ party block that get opposed to one part or all of said proposal. It pains me to see such an ally as the Setulan suffer so much at the hands of an enemy. We should discuss this in more detail after the festivities but it is my hope that we can get some aid shipments and perhaps some military assistance as well”

Armerelos looked around the room for a brief moment and sighed. He really did enjoy the palace. As much as it pained him that he had to rule instead of his father, for he was much more content playing the dutiful noble and pursing his own interests, he did like the architecture and the history of the Humbistea District and the royal palace. Armerelos clapped Lucksee on the shoulder. The quiet Ambassador to the Kitsune Empire had been rather quiet.

“What is on your mind my good friend?” Armerelos asked the stoic Ambassador.

“I am not a big fan of these ‘Freedom’ party people. Against the monarchy! Who was it that brought the Commonwealth such prosperity these last ten years. We lost a lot of people in the war, but we have gained so much!” Lucksee exclaimed “And my intelligence reports say that there is even a radical group among them dead set against the current government. They have not been very active; a few break ins, vandalism, but nothing terrible. It is harder yet to find out who is an extremist and who is not. It could be the entire political party or just a small group. I have had several conversations with their leader and he swears up and down that he is just as concerned as I am on this matter of extremist activity”

There was a pause as another figure was sweeping down the side aisle of the hall, just behind the statues. Her robes flowing like the silk they were. Maroon and crimson colors all in intricate patterns all across the High Tars mate as she made her way in elegant fashion towards the dignitaries as they talked. Nearly underneath her scuttled a small yearling, just out of the nest that was the High Tars offspring. It was clothed in a very simple white robe, perhaps just a little too big for it. The small yearling was taking in the views of the hall and all the decorations in a children’s awe, even for one that saw similar things a great deal living in the Palace. Kayshee glided up to join the party, ushering the yearling away with some difficulty as it stumbled in front of Enomoto and stared at him in awe for a moment before an attendant drew the yearling away.

Kayshee came from one of the most prominent families in the Commonwealth. Very popular with almost everyone she made an acquaintance of. There was even a cult that wished to deify her as a goddess, not an uncommon thing to do with the mate of a High Tar, but unusual to do while she still lived. Her strong features were accentuated by her jet black feathers and her strong, almost masculine stance. Her eyes, two emeralds that could pierce any soul and any darkness now glowed with love as she looked around the group. First to her mate who she slid in next to and nuzzled for a brief second before looking at the rest of the group. She instantly recognized the group and beamed even more. She loved Enomoto, Lunessa, and Vanessa like family, even the stoic Lucksee was a dear and close friend.

“It is all good to see you all!” She exclaimed “I hope Armerelos here has not been boring you with great amounts of business. Today is a day to celebrate!”

Armerelos smiled at her. He could not believe that he could have been so luck as to be bonded with such a female. She was all he could ask for and more.

“Business, dear gods no. Statecraft, but no business” He replied lovingly.

“Oh I see” She winked. “Where is the good Flock Marshall. It is not like Singalee to miss such a big function as this”

Armerelos chuckled at his mates inquiry. The Flock Marshall had spent the last few months reorganizing the Commonwealth’s military and depositions. A task that had been long overdue since the end of the war. There had been units that were halved, sometimes even quarter strengthed and servicing positions that required more soldiers.

“I believe, like during most social gatherings, the Flock Marshall will be fashionably late” Armerelos stated in jest, knowing full well the leader of the Pokosian military was one that although did his duty well and attended all functions in a mere symbolic role, was usually not one who would enjoy social activities of this type.

Augesh 13 2630 SFY,
PCS Most Serene Song,
En Route to Pokos

The leader of the Commonwealth’s military sat in his office on the diplomatic transport PCS Most Serene Song pouring over one report after another. He had spent the last six months travelling to every single colony, outpost, and military base reorganizing the military and fleets of the Pokosian Commonwealth. It had been a daunting task having to deal with obstinate commanders, under supplied units, and in some instances a noble or two had to be knocked down a peg to get what needed done, done. Singalee did not like the nobles all too much. There were some that he could stand and even fewer he would consider friends, the High Tar being one of them. His realm was the military. That is what he did. He devoted his entire existence to the Commonwealth’s military. He had lead fleets and armies against the Dannaversains and had made his name a name that struck fear into the hearts of enemy commanders, and some allied ones as well. It was Singalee that introduced the new fighting style, although reserved until actually needed, to deal with enemies that adapted to the Pokosians linear style of combat. His task was finally done. As he looked at the final report in his hands, he had a sense of pride that all that work had finally paid off. The Commonwealth now had an army and navy that could go talon to talon with any enemy it faced, or at least until allies could come to assist should that be the case.

Singalees eyes began to water as he tried to read all of the stats and reports from all of the units that he had moved about. Not every system needed an entire corps of troops, or a fleet. Some of them were still being recolonized and their populations were not that much in the way of substantial. He still wanted a Commonwealth presence in every system, so that if something should come up that there would be someone to respond to any threat. Thus the reason why he created the System Guards. Units that were responsible for investigating threats, handing lower level stuff and ordered to contact further military help should it be needed.

The Flock Marshall took a moment to look up from his work. Something had distracted him. There seemed to be the sound of muffled conversation from outside the small office that he had been working in. He almost dismissed it as banter between his guards when the noise seemed to escalate, followed by the unmistakable sound of phaser fire. More shouting occurred. Singalee pulled the phaser out of it’s holster that was hanging off of the back of his perch prepared for what might come next. For a moment he paused, then slid the saber out of its scabbard as well, just as a precaution.

The shouting and fighting got louder, the cries of ‘Freedom!’ echoed down the hallways outside when finally the door blew open and showered the Flock Marshall with debris. The first assailaint fell almost immediately to the ground with a burning hole in his chest, the second, a glancing blow to the wing. Within seconds there were multiple attackers in the room clambering to get at Singalee. He dropped the phaser and swung the saber in a loping arc, severing a wing with a wet stick sound that made his feathers stand up a little. Another swing severed a hand holding a phaser. A phaser bolt hit Singalee in the wing, forcing him to stumble backwards a few feet. It was glancing, but gave his attackers the moments the needed to close in. There they stood, looming over him, their sneers mocking him as he tried to raise himself up to get back into the fight.

“We have you Flock Marshal. Soon we will have the ship, then the Commonwealth” One of the figures said.

From behind, there was a clamor. Was that more attackers, or were they saviors. Singalee didn’t know.

Augesh 13 2630 SFY,
City of Tranquietel, Pokos
Sinners Gulch

Madison stood there in shock as she rematerailzed on her balcony. Out of all of the scenarios that she had prepared herself for running into her brother was not one of them. There were thousands of members of the movement ready to move on the Humbistean district from all over the city, the planet, and the Commonwealth. She had heard reports that the Foot Guards had been replaced by the Sword, but she did not ever think that her brother would be there. A royalist to the core he was. Even after everything that happened to their parents. Said it was up to fate how things happened and it wasn’t the royals fault.

The winds had turned westward, coming up from the terminus of the mountain. The air was still cool, it always was, but this time she could smell the trees and the flowers that grew naturally further downslope. She drew in each breath slowly and deliberately in an attempt to calm herself down. Any moment, Pinkertons would be bashing down her door and dragging her off into custody, but as time went on and she was not ripped away she knew that it would not happen. At least not yet.

Madison walked back into her apartment and sat down on a small perch and began to read the reports that were pouring in from all of the cells and agents that were all over the Commonwealth. There are agents and clumps of people in key positions. When the bomb goes off and kills every royal there, the agents and cells will act in accordance to the plans laid forth. Firstly, the agents in the Foot Guards would relieve the Sword of the Tar units, under the guise as orders from Flock Marshall Singalee, who would have been killed at the same time the bomb went off. The Foot Guards, or at least those who were supportive to the cause, would round up any other people that would oppose them, sack the embassies, and consolidate control of the fleet in orbit before things get out of hand. It was a complex plan. But if pulled off, a new government could be installed.

There was a beep on her communicator which she answered almost as soon as she heard it.

“We have a problem” The voice said.

“And what would that be?” Madison asked.

“Some of our compatriots jumped the gun. I just got a report from one of our colony cells. They have just attacked the PCS Most Serene Song” The voice stated.

“Damn” Madison muttered “Has the word gotten out?”

“No, but you can bet that if we don’t move soon, we may lose our opportunity” The voice replied, then cut out as it hung up.

Madison was in a flurry of thoughts. If they jumped the gun and attacked the Flock Marshall too early than everything would be lost. The recovery teams would not be in place, the fleet may get involved, and end the revolution before it got off of the ground. She began to pray real hard to the gods that the idiots that attacked Singalee were successful. She needed to get the word out now to get things in motion, or the revolution will fail. Madison activated her communicator.

“This is Madison, the code is Humbistea”

The revolution was going to begin. All across the Commonwealth agents began moving. In Tranquietel military officers that supported the cause got ready to march on the vital locations to secure the city. Other agents positioned themselves where they needed to be to strike. It would not be long now. All Madison had to do was wait, wait until the bomb went off.

by **Xiscapia** » Mon Sep 01, 2014 5:53 pm

Augesh 13, 2630 SFY (Y.O.O.R. Emperor Foxfire Rose 27)
Humbistean District of Tranquietel
Royal Palace

If he hadn't known Armerelos as well as he did Enomoto would have been taken aback by the High Tar's laughter, but as it was he just smiled, if politely. The confirmation that he was correct did nothing to lift his spirits. He was well aware of the obstinate Freedom Party -they all were- and while perhaps some were as the High Tar claimed he knew that most of the resistance to his appointment would come from there. But he also knew full well that his elevation to the Royal Flock was aimed at them by a High Tar who held little love for the conservatives, and there was no mistaking what he meant when he turned to Vanessa. While the Xiscapians were hated by some they were loved by others in a way that only they could be, and while he would polarize the Flock he would also draw supporters to Armerelos's side when the debates for sending aid to Setulan began, and so the battle lines would be drawn. He could only hope that the High Tar had read the situation correctly.

Behind him Lunessa reached down and, without even bothering to try to hide it, squeezed Vanessa's hand. When the woman looked up at her she just smiled, with no words necessary. She and Enomoto were both friends to her and the Republic, and it was a given that they'd support any proposal that would help Setulan, but a reminder of it could not be out of place. She reflected that she would have done the same for Enomoto as well, but he wasn't in a good position for it. As they continued on he glanced over his shoulder to her and nodded, and she closed her eyes for a moment to focus her limited psionics. Torill, the gift please.

Listening to Lucksee's take on the Freedom Party, Enomoto could only shake his head. The Great Patriotic War, as it was known in the Empire, had been very divisive in the Commonwealth when it came to the nation's participation but ultimately it had gone to war alongside the Coalition and firmly found a place in AXIS afterwards. Would it be that the same would happen for the Exile War. Another Pokosian appeared from behind the statues and those thoughts left his head for the moment as his eyes found Kayshee. She was as striking as ever, and he bowed to her in the same way he had to Armerelos, straightening up with a greeting before the yearling scuttled out in front of him. He only smiled at the young chick, gently inclining his head. Pokosian children were universally agreed to be adorable, and the expression came easily before he turned back to Kayshee.

"Wonderful as always to see you, Kayshee," he clasped his hands in front of him, ears perked. "Your mate has been very gracious with us. Thank you as well for your hospitality."

----

Bolton just sighed and shook her head. Not because Torres was wrong, but because he was right -about all of it. Shifting her weight, she wished she had a drink but that was more against regulations than she was willing to go, particularly in light of her counterpart's words. Casting another look at the Pokosian guards, she turned away just as Torill emerged from the skycar holding a small, fine chest in his arms. "Lunessa's summoned me," he said, and Bolton waved him on. The silence stretched on as she watched the Boolean jog up the steps and into the palace.

"All we can do is keep our ears up and our claws sharp," she said at last, unthinkingly using the Xiscapian slang.

"Yeah, I'll feel a lot better once this thing is over," Mepou tapped some ash off the end of his cigarette.

"Then the Ambassador just becomes an even bigger target for the Exiles," Bolton leaned back against the car. "We've been lucky so far given that the Commonwealth is so remote and it's more difficult for them to blend in here, but that won't last. If they make a serious attack, even a failed one, it could give the Freedom Party all the ammunition it needs to make sure the Commonwealth is kept out of the war." She glanced at Torres. "We'll be beefing up our security, I know that much. The High Tar's not done us any favors either."

by **Setulan** » Tue Sep 02, 2014 9:56 am

High Tar's Palace

Lorde smiled gratefully at the Alumina as she squeezed her hand, but at the end of the day the sign of support was mere reassurance. A very kind reminder, to be sure, but the ambassadress would not be breathing more easily until Pokosian warships were filling the skies of Setulan with fire. Though not one of the more powerful players in AXIS, the role the Commonwealth had played in the Danaversian War could not be underestimated; the late and much lamented Theater-General Durmel once remarked that "Coalition assaults undertaken with Pokosian pathfinders are led by wings of fire." The phrase had led to a wildly popular movie (Wings of Fire) and the mere presence of the avians in the theater would be a morale boost to the population.

"I have announced several proposals to the Councils, they have carried in the Council of Elders and usually the Council of Lessers, but every time there is a ‘Freedom’ party block that get opposed to one part or all of said proposal. It pains me to see such an ally as the Setulan suffer so much at the hands of an enemy. We should discuss this in more detail after the festivities but it is my hope that we can get some aid shipments and perhaps some military assistance as well.”

Lorde nodded gratefully, but it was reserved. She knew full well that the Freedom Party would be a problem.

"I am of course grateful, your highness. And I look forward to discussing this with you after the party."

Lorde gave a legitimate smile as the High Tar's mate showed up. She dearly loved the woman, as so many did, and they had a wonderful relationship. As the little chick was being ushered away, the Setulan intercepted the servant and lifted the adorable bag of wings into a huge hug.

"Oh no no no, you aren't getting away without a hug you little ruffian!" The Setulan put down the squawking yearling and smiled at him fondly as he was led away. Turning to Lunessa, Vanessa shrugged - a move that attracted the attention of damn near everyone within fifty feet as her dress struggled to defy gravity and succeeded, barely. "I really need kids of my own, but until then I'll just have to steal all the adorable children of my friends."

-----

"All we can do is keep our ears up and our claws sharp,"

Torres snorted softly at the slang, shooting the Setulan a sidelong glance.

"Sharp as sharp, yeah."

"We've been lucky so far given that the Commonwealth is so remote and it's more difficult for them to blend in here, but that won't last. If they make a serious attack, even a failed one, it could give the Freedom Party all the ammunition it needs to make sure the Commonwealth is kept out of the war. We'll be beefing up our security, I know that much. The High Tar's not done us any favors either."

Torres shook his head.

"See, I don't think that's it at all. They have no problem blending. I guarantee there are Pokosians in the giant fleet those fucks have. If they wanted to, they could hit this place. I just don't get it. And I really hate things I don't get." Another long drag before the Setulan flicked the glowing embers away. "They have proven, across all of AXIS space, that they can hit damn near anyone damn near anywhere. If they throw a battlefleet here...shit, even a few bombs...that's it. The Commonwealth is out of the war. And we can't have that." Torres let out a ragged sigh. "Security...yeah. We're already beefed, as I'm sure you could guess. Ready team of guys in MPBA round the clock, the Maxi ramped up. They even wired me." The Xiscapians would understand what he meant - that his vitals were being monitored back at the embassy. "This...fuck. Just needs to end, man. Just needs to end."

by **Alversia** » Wed Sep 10, 2014 9:59 pm

Sitting back in her seat and allowing herself to close her eyes, Clodagh Toal let out a long and slow sigh. Her arms went limp at her sides, head reaching up to the heavens as if in silent prayer. Her blonde hair spilled down the back of the chair. She revelled in the brief moments of quiet and darkness, as close as she was going to get to an empty room in this city. The fresh breeze swept through the room and she took the moment to inhale the beautifully crisp mountain air. One unique advantage of perching your primary city on top of a mountain, she thought, was that no amount of pollution or civilised white noise could distort or disrupt the winds that swept through. It sat on her pale skin like a cold towel, revitalising and reinvigorating her after what had been a very exhausting morning.

Even thinking about it brought her back to the land of the living, frigid blue eyes snapping open as she rose from her chair with such speed that one might have been forgiven for thinking that a high voltage had just passed through it. She needed that burst of energy when she was tired, or else she could have slunk down in that seat and stayed there for hours. Instead, she stepped into the small shower room that was attached to her rather expansive office, throwing aside her clothing as she did so. Running a shower, she stepped into the slowly warming water, grateful for the icy water at hit her pale skin and snapped her fully awake in a natural fight-or-flight response. With the water warming up and gradually becoming bearable, she activated a holo-screen she had had fitted in the side of the shower, purely so she could check communications and messages while she washed. A hundred had arrived in her inbox since she had left checked a few minutes ago. Most were spam messages, chains that she was attached to and which updated her on their progress whether she wanted them to or not. Others were from important people; CEOs, Branch Managers, Businesspeople, tradespeople, Merchants. They all wanted meetings and a few golden moments of her precious time. Using her implant, she answered a few of the more important ones and the ones she knew would not wait for an answer. Alversia’s traction in the Commonwealth market was growing steadily as a result of their interaction in the Danaversian War but still the architects of that drive wanted her advice, her council, even her influence or her mere presence.

Such had been why she was only now stepping into the sure when she should have been at the Palace of the High Tar fifteen minutes ago. An Alversian intergalactic company was trying to get permission to build a new manufacturing complex on the planet and it was something she had been intimately involved in. After months of careful negotiations with the High Tar and the local council, the company had nearly torpedoed it for themselves by insisting they import their own specialists. Given that a main platform for getting everything improved to this part had been job creation, the Pokosians were understandably unimpressed. With both soft and sharp words, she had calmed both down at a fiery meeting this morning but weeks of bridge-building and head-smashing remained. Diplomat though she be, Toal was always ready to tell her Pokosian counterparts when they were being unreasonable.

She fired up another panel as she began to clean herself, freshening up for the afternoon ahead. Today was the Hatching Day of the High Tar and that, as it had done for the past four years she had been stationed here, meant a very fancy party at his residence. There would be ceremonies, awards handed out, speeches delivered and both food and drink consumed. Personally, she could never be bothered with any of it. Besides her innate reluctance to attend parties; it would be filled with nobility, with whom she was always stepping on eggshells and various other officials for whom the day was really just another opportunity to discuss politics face to face. Inevitably, talk was going to turn to the great elephant in the room and for that, she had to be ready.

She knew that Ambassadress Lorde of the Setulan Republic was going to be there, which inevitably meant that their conversation was going to follow the same route it always did. The scenery might have been different and the vehicle delivering them to that destination would shift but it would inevitably always boil down to the Alversian commitment to the war and a fix on their numbers. Each time they had met, Toal’s response had been the same; that the Republic had declared war on the Exiles, that they had committed ships and were mobilising for all-out war. She did strongly sympathise with the poor woman, for whom the rug of all she had known had been torn out from under her, but she could only tell her the truth and the truth of the matter was that the Republic had been caught completely flat-footed. It had been downscaling from its previous wartime numbers following the Great Danaversian War and had not been prepared for another great conflict so soon. It was going to take time.

At least she had some good news. Following long talks overnight with the Defence Committee and the Prime Minister, she could at least offer the Setuanite some crumb of comfort. A pitiful morsel but the hungry belly will accept anything hope it can get.

Turning off the shower, Toal stepped back into the drier which had her skin water-free in mere seconds and her hair merely damp, if unkempt. She worked at it as she walked through a second door and into her small bedroom. Picking out clothes as a droid tended to her hair, the Alversian went for simple business grab; a black suit that was tailored to hug her fine form and black heels. She arranged her hair in a ponytail and attached a small, golden hairpin, the only real jewellery she would permit herself to wears besides her earrings and her wedding ring.

As she finished tying the last buttons on her jacket, she heard a knock at the door to her office,
“Enter,” the Diplomat called, her Earthius accent growing stronger as she raised her voice.

The door was opened by a member of the Diplomatic Defence Agency, the DDA, a plainclothes Alversian with a pistol in his holster who held the door open long enough for her guest to enter, then shut it behind him. Toal stepped out of her room, took one look at her guest and sighed.

He was around a foot smaller than her, though it was hard to tell draped in the long brown robes as he was. Everything about him was shrouded in the veil of that cloak besides his face, which exposed a short, slender and rounded muzzle ended in a black nose, his fur was the colour of toffee while what little hair she could see was a deep brown. His eyes were yellow, narrowed into slits, sharp and intelligent. Even though his very presence generated an aura of respect, she felt nothing but exasperation.

“Ceyrn,” she said by way of greeting, “you have invited yourself, I take it.”

“Ambassadress,” he spoke in a low and respectful voice, tone heavily accented. There was nothing jovial about what he said, his expression was all business, “I have been assigned to your security detail. It would be remiss of me to remain behind.”

“You have been assigned to the Embassy,” she corrected him, though she knew the real reason was as he had given, “to watch and protect Alversian and AXIS interests in the area. I am going to attend a ceremony at the palace. I will be surrounded by whole divisions of bodyguards as well as my own guards. I highly doubt that a Veelic Warrior will be necessary.”

“Necessary? Perhaps not,” he conceded in that infuriating way he did, “but helpful? Most certainly. I will not get involved or interfere in any of your dealings, I merely go to observe.”

Toal shook her head. The very presence of the Veela had been unsettling to her and her security,
“If Sammi had not insisted you wouldn’t be here at all,” She told him, though he was well aware of this by now.

Again, he nodded to concede the point. Very rarely did Ceyrn refute a point but that did not mean he conceded his argument, “with the Exile threat, milady, your protection and the protection of all AXIS officials becomes imperative. As I have said, I will remain out of your way.”

Recognising this was the best she was going to get, the Alversian slipped a small receiver into her ear and activated it, “Paul? Aideen?”

The door behind Ceyrn opened and in stepped the Alversian who had opened the door for him, a tall man with black hair and pale skin , dressed in a simple leather jacket and slacks and his partner. She was not much taller than the Veela, with fierce red hair cut into a tomboyish bob and freckles dotting her upper checks and the bridge of her nose. Like her partner, she wore a casual jacket and full length jeans. The two Agents, Paul Cantrell and Aideen Quigley, were members of the DDA, the organisation set up with the specific purpose of protecting the Ambassador Corps no matter where it was sent. Though they looked unimpressive compared to the power-armoured clad troops who patrolled the boundaries of the embassy, there was more to them than met the eye as Toal could well testify.

“Are you ready, Ambassadress?” Cantrell asked, green eyes flicking briefly to Ceyrn for a second, “are we all heading?”

“We are,” she nodded, “and we are already late, so shall we try to speed it along?”

“Of course ma’am.”

-------

With a quick jaunt across the city by hovercar completed promptly –thanks in no small part to their Pokosian driver who seemed to know every shortcut in the book- they arrived at the Royal Palace. As always, the former-Barrister took a moment to enjoy fine scenery and spectacle of such an ornate building, before she hurried inside to escape the brisk breeze.

Thing were already well underway, she found, with nobles and other dignitaries mingling together in an elaborate performance of small-talk, gamesmanship and diplomacy. She spotted the key players immediately. It was hard not to given that Lorde was dressed in a fantastic red dress that suited her perfectly. For a brief moment, a flash of envy filled the Alversian that she had not considered something similar. She rarely wore anything but suits for formal occasions like this but if anyone could make her regret such a choice, it was Vanessa Lorde. Just over her shoulder, she felt her two guards shuffle off back towards the cars where she could see, out of the corner of her eye, a group of various guards, clearly taking the time to enjoy a bit of interaction with one another.

She strode over to the group, her strides long and confident, and her hips swaying naturally and alluringly with every click of her heels. Stopping just on the fringes of the group and waiting for a natural lull in the conversation, she her head deeply,

“Your highness, may I congratulate you and wish you a happy Hatching Day on behalf of myself, the Prime Minister and the entire Republic. I regret that my wife cannot be here, but unfortunately, she has business on Malacus that could not be avoided. Theresa sends her love to Lunessa and Artuea however and insists she’ll see both of you shortly.” She fixed her sharp eyes on them both but her tone was warm and her full lips were curved up into the smallest hint of a smile.

“Ambassador Enomoto, allow me to congratulate you personally on your new honour.” There was a knowing look to her congratulations that hinted at her meaning more than she had said. At this point, there were few who would claim that Clodagh Toal did not know Pokosian law, both common and royal, well enough to practise it as a profession. Indeed, many of the books in her office were volumes on the subject, each of which she had poured over in the little free time she had with the minute attention that only a lover of such tomes could give.

There was a presence over her shoulder however and the Ambassadress pursed her lips before stepping aside to reveal her guest, “Your highness, Ambassadors and Ambassadresses, allow me to introduce Ceyrn Canesda of the Veelic tribes. He has been assigned to me as part of my escort.”

“A pleasure,” the Lapine being bowed deeply to each in turn.

Outside, meanwhile, Paul and Aideen strode to where the other guards had assembled. In comparison to the armour of the Xiscapian Marines, the two Alversians looked like they had dressed for a day out to the park, a mistake many had made before.

“Afternoon guys,” Paul took the lead, raising a hand in greeting, “glad to see you all made it. What’s the deal with the Sword of the Tar being out in force? The Foot Guards been demoted or something?” he looked from one to the other.

PCS Most Serene Song

The first thing Falcon Lieutenant Cassandra Rourke had done when she had come aboard the Most Serene Song had learn its layout.

This was more than just learning where the basic facilities were however, because in her line of work nothing could be left to chance. She had begged, borrowed and stolen everything she needed to build up a complete picture of the entire Pokosian ship, down to the points where the architect had stopped on the drawing to sharpen his metaphorical pen. She had rooted out every single nook, crook and cranny of the vessel until she could get from one end to the other with her eyes closed –she knew, she had tried it- and only then had she felt she had been able to relax. Not that relaxing meant quite the same thing for a Black Falcon as it did for anyone else. Even in rest, Falcons were trained to assume that the next threat was just around the corner. It could be a tiresome way to live and it didn’t help with the Black Falcon’s already high burnout rate but that was the price that one had to attain. One did not reach the peak of the mountain without enduring a few storms in between.

It was this skill, innate in birth but honed through hard months and years of training and combat that let her pinpoint the exact moment something had gone wrong. It was the graveyard shift on the vessel, the point where the majority of the crew wound down for the night and handed over control to a smaller staff of relatively inexperienced officers and crew. She knew, she had spoken to many of them on the subject. Tonight though, just when she would have expected the activity to die down outside her door, she heard the unmistakeable patter of footsteps, a squad of people marching very decisively in one direction.

Rourke sat cross-legged on her bed, her slight and willowy frame betraying a wirey soldier’s form. She had let her dark hair spill out of it’s bun so that it fell around her olive-skinned face, still dressed in her uniform. Her black eyes narrowed until they were mere slits, concentrating on what she could hear rather than what she could see. After the crowd had dwindled away, none of the familiar sounds returned.

“Something is very wrong,” She whispered.

Patrick Hill sat up in his bed, flexing his thick arms and his broad shoulders. He had stripped his jacket off and so his powerful chest was fully exposed. Not that Rourke paid any attention to it, nor the man she had fought beside for the entirety of the Danaversian War as part of the legendary Foxtrot Squad. He ran a hand through short-cut, black hair and fixed his friendly yellow eyes on his superior, as if expecting her to deliver the punchline at any moment.

When none was forthcoming, he let out a sigh, “I knew things were going too well.”

“Get dressed and tooled up, Paddy,” She ordered, crossing to the door with such nimbleness that it almost looked like her feet had not touched the floor. She opened the door with a hiss and peeked around the corner in both directions. It was empty. It should not have been empty at this time of night. Unlike her comrade, the Falcon Lieutenant was still wearing her holster, complete with bone pistol and sabre. The Falcons took great pride in being the only service to wield, equip and practise with melee weapons besides bayonets anymore. It made them stand out on parade, even more than their pitch black uniforms already did.

Hill was beside her in moments, slipping his own weapon into his holster. He looked out above her, being the taller of the pair and frowned,
“Shouldn’t a guard have passed this way by now?”

“He normally does,” Rourke confirmed, “he was not down as sick on the roster.”

“Yeah, okay,” Hill nodded, “we might have a problem.”

“Let’s go.” With that, Rourke slipped from the room and headed out into the corridors.

It was a maze of twists and turns like any big vessel, with no real rhyme or reason for their positioning or their proximity to anything useful. Trying to navigate blind would have ended up with one becoming very lost, very quickly. Fortunately, both Operatives were well versed in this ship at this point and they moved rapidly. They ducked into shadows or behind corners each time a member of the crew passed, paranoid that it was a straggler from the crowd. Each time they went on their merry way, quite content in whatever it was they were doing.

The pair were approaching the office of the Flock Marshall, where he often stayed until late. In truth, they had not known this was the crowd’s final destination but given that even in this graveyard shift the core components; bridge, engineering, life support, armoury, would be heavily guarded, it seemed to be the most likely. Their quiet approach meant they heard the sound of phasers and blades ringing together from a much rather distance than they should have done. As they turned the final corner to Singalee’s office, they spotted that the door had been blown off, that a number of Pokosians in the uniform of the navy lay dead both in front of the door and beyond it. Most importantly, they saw the Flock Marshall being pulled to his feet by a hostile crowd.

In that instant, all of Rourke’s training came back to her in a flash. It was not so much a rush of data as a filtration, as she pulled everything out of her vast repertoire that would help. It happened so fast that even she was not fully aware of the process but when it was finished, she knew exactly what to do. She turned to look at Hill and she saw the serious expression in his eyes. She knew he had come to the same conclusion that she had.

Unclipping a small disk-like device from her belt, Rourke placed it on the floor and gave it a gentle nudge in the direction of the office. As if with a mind of its own, the black device shot off silently, navigating around the corpses of the dead Pokosians until it came to a slow stop unnoticed in the middle of the largest group. Without even a whistle, it burst.

The flash was akin to staring directly at a sun, as if someone had set off a flare gun in the room at the same time as firing up a starship’s engines and stuffing the Pokosian’s beaks into a bag of the most overpoweringly neutral smell in the galaxy. It smelt of nothing, but in doing so, it made everything else smell of nothing.

Hiding behind the corner until they heard the putting sound, the two Black Falcons rounded the corner, weapon’s drawn. They fired shot after shot, each accompanied by only an anti-climactic punting sound, like shooting a wad of paper through a straw. There was no flash, no kick-back and no boom but each time they pulled the trigger, a Pokosian twisted and fell away. Those who had been standing in front of Singalee, ready to end it simply tipped forward without so much as a whisper or even really a mark on their bodies.

A few recovered from the shock and charged towards the two slowly advancing figures. Rourke pulled out her blade while Hill fired calmly, pistol held in both hands as he cut down two charging Pokosians with clean hits between the eyes. The other three came for Rourke, weapons raised.

The first was simple, an easy parry and back slice across the chest that saw him thrown against the wall with the force of her attack. The second tried to stab up into her gut. She countered by stepping back, allowing him to bring his weapon uncontrollably up until he was almost saluting with it. A slice across the stomach and he fell. The third did not even get to attack. As he rose his weapon, she stepped to close the gap sooner than the Avian could have predicted. She slammed her forehead into his face just above his beck and he crumbled back, slumped against the wall as she took his weapons with one easy kick.

The battle had been silent. It had lasted less than two minutes but the end result was clear. Not one Pokosian stood and only one was in any way capable of thought or understanding of what had happened. All Singalee would see as his own vision, hearing and smell cleared were the two Alversians, clad in black tunics and holding weapons without so much as a drop of blood or a bead of sweat upon their persons.

Rourke did a quick visual examination of the Marshall before turning to Hill, “get on to Miller Control, emergency frequency. Tell them what’s happened and our positioning.”

Hill nodded and the tall Alversian left the room, putting a finger to his ear as he began to speak. Rourke herself offered a hand to the Pokosian, “Flock Marshall, are you injured?”

by **O Boyce** » Sat Sep 13, 2014 1:22 pm

Augesh 13 2630 SFY,
City of Tranquietel, Pokos
Humbistea District

The great royal hall began to fill up while the diplomats chatted. The multitudes of nobles and other high ranking dignitaries from all across the Commonwealth filled the hall with voices. Armerelos was in good company. He really enjoyed visiting with the diplomats from Xiscapia and Setulan. The small group was family in a way. All of them had spent so much time working together and in some cases fighting with each other shoulder to shoulder to fight a common enemy. It made him smile when he thought about some of the many late nights while strategy was planned and trade treaties were hammered out. There was only one person missing. The Alversian diplomat was nowhere to be seen. She had been missing from the group since the others had shown up and Armerelos expected that it must have been something important for her not to be present when the rest had gathered. While he talked his mate, Artuea gossiped readily with Lunessa he made small talk with Enomoto, Vanessa and Lucksee.

“I can only see things progressing from here Ambassadress” Armerelos said to Vanessa “I can only hope that the Freedom party will come to their senses once Enomoto here is raised to his new position. With him there to add his sage advice to those already committing law and custom into stone. If it was just up to me, our fleets would flood Setulan skies and burn the exile scourge from the surface of their planets like the wildfire burns out the underbrush and makes the forests healthier. But then again, I am not a total monarch, just a constitutional one. As such, my wings are tied, but I will make it happen, even if it is the last thing I do.”

Armerelos gave Vanessa a thoughtful look. He felt bad for the Ambassadress, her people were suffering and he knew she would do anything to get the help her people needed. Her dealing with the yearling was something of a surprise. He knew the Ambassadress well, but did not know much in the way of her family, if there was one. She seemed to play things closer to the vest than most. Then again he didn’t blame her due to the situation that was going on back in her nation.

“Don’t be so morbid” Artuea said to him.

Off in the distance, through the growing crowd, the Alversian ambassadress walking through the crowd. She stood out like a bit of a sore thumb inside the royal hall. With all of the bright colors and multitudes of patterns that the nobility wore as they as well began to file up the long marble staircase into the hall. Her attire did fit her well, and if Armerelos was not an avian but a humanoid he would be very interested in her, as he would with Vanessa, but as such, he appreciated their beauty. As she finally joined the group and said her hellos he stood in silence and admired her businesslike approach to the meeting.

“It is good to see you have finally joined us. Now our happy band is completed, with the exception of the Flock Marshall in which I can most assuredly predict he will show up sooner rather than later” Armerelos stated.

As he looked around the hall he began to take stock of who was all here. He could for sure tell that the majority if not all of the Council of Elders were present, with their hangers on in their bright robes and even brighter jewelry. One of which walked with a cane, studded with jewels and inlaid with what Armerelos could only imagine was gold. He could also tell that there was a very large amount of the Council of Lessers, in their grey robes tended to stand out, even more so than the members of the Council Popular that wore a wide range of robes and other styles of clothing. The members of the Council of Lessers were hard working folk, lesser nobles that did not have the luxury of living off of their noble incomes or off of whatever investments their families had accrued over the centuries. They worked for their money, so they all tended to look at the elders with a wary eye. Armerelos admired that. He preferred their company. People who worked for their livelihood were honest, had real ideas, and real ambition, and real fire in their bellies.

With the crowd getting bigger and bigger Armerelos could gage that it was just about time to begin the ceremony. He turned to his friends smiled at them.

“I must apologize, but we must be getting things going. I will begin the ceremonies and we shall get the party started”

“Oh do we have too darling?” Artuea asked playfully, winking as she did.

Armerelos did not have much use for ceremony personally. It did not aid him in any of his personal pursuits. He would much rather continued his studies and become a scholar. Before he was risen to the throne and the war, he was a scholar in training at the University of Uttumo on Plaktea. He was well read, well written, and he thought it would give him some unique insight on how to run things, especially that he was now in charge of the whole show. As such, he understood the need for ceremony, even if he did not like it.

“Sadly, I must say that we must. I have a speech to perform, and you all have food to eat. As my father said before he himself was risen to the throne ‘Leave it to the Armerelos Flock to always put out a good spread’” Armerelos chirped with laughter at that.

He motioned off to right in front of the throne and the podium that had been raised near it for the speeches that were soon to come. He had some surprises for the diplomats here, and like High Tar Humbistea, of which the summit of the mountain was named, unified the people of Pokos, but this time, instead of uniting Pokosians, he was going to unite a much wider grouping of peoples. His hope would be to bring AXIS together, into something of a grander alliance, not the loosely formed patronage system it now was. It was something he had mused on for a long time. Even if this strengthened alliance would be centered on the Trelani system, he didn’t care. All he saw was the plight of the Setulans, the crime and piracy on the trade lanes and he could only hope that he could in some way bring a new age of peace. It may not work, but he could only hope.

“Your seats are over there, if you would like to take a seat while I get this mess started. These damn nobles are so uptight sometimes I wonder if I took away all the pomp and ceremony if they will even bother to show up a single meeting of the council, let alone a formal event like this” Armerelos stated in a calm diplomatic voice, hoping not to let the fact that he was chaffing under the strain of dealing with the nobility.

Armerelos nodded to the group and excused himself. As he did that the small grouping of guards that surrounded the group split. Two stayed with them due to the presence of Artuea, who had stayed behind to talk with the group as they worked their way through the crowd to their seats, stopping here and there in the conversation to grab nibblements off of trays being carried by palace servants. Armerelos had to pause only a few times on his way to the podium to shake a few hands and share a few hellos. It was one of the few benefits he actually enjoyed about having an armed escort. As he took the few small steps up to the podium horns began to blow a loud majestic tune that filled the great hall. The hall was built for ceremonies such as this, where the acoustics of the hall could be used to amplify the sounds around the throne and the area where the podium stood. Once he reached the podium he gently rested his hands on the edges of the polished dark wood. An elderly paige stood forward with an immense, and ancient scroll and began to unfurl it while he read.

“Attention! Attention! I now present to you High Tar Armerelos the Second of that name, of the Pokosian Commonwealth, Defender of the Nest, Guardian of the Faiths, Reuniter of the Colonies, Overlord of the Hidden Kingdom of Kodos, High Chancellor of the Universities, Odermaster of the Order of the Tar, Ordermaster of the Order of the Red Wing, Ordermaster of the Order of Grand Cross, Ordermaster of the Order of Trelani, Defender of all Pokosians Foreign and Domestic, Grand Master of the Pokosian Military, The bringer of Peace and Tranquility to all in his care…..”

The paige went on and on, announcing the many titles that Armerlos had accrued over the time he had spent and the leader of his people. Some of them he could only but barely roll his eyes at due to the ridiculousness of them. He wondered if the Empress of the Xicapian Empire had to deal with such things. Once the final title was stated the paige stepped back and put away the ancient scroll that held the titles that every High Tar of the Commonwealth had held over the course of history. The crowd began to take their seats, with their plates of food in some cases and began to stare up at the High Tar at the podium. All of their eyes were on him and he got a brief rush of energy and adrenaline that he got every time he had to give a speech. He hated speeches but he loved the feeling he got right before. That is what made him such a great orator, that and his scholarly studies. Yet there was still some ceremony that was needed to be completed before he could begin.

Off in the wings of the hall, in the small archways that lead to other regions of the palace stood forward a great many Pokosians in snow white robes, their ceremonial jewelry glistening in the lights cast from the many lamps that hung off of the marble walls and ceiling. In unison they burst out in song, a great Avain work from one of the most ancient Pokosian composers. The notes were serene and sorrowful at the same time and brought out emotions out of Armerelos that he could barely contain. Many Pokosians could resist the magical notes of J’sheeMogetsh en High Tar.

The three Heralds, each in their own colored robes representing the three major religions of the Commonwealth all stepped forward from the wings of the small platform that the throne and podium stood. Each one carried a symbol of Pokosian royalty. The herald of the Pantheonic religion in his golden robes and oakleaf crest on his head walked forward and gently placed the Royal crown in Armerelos’s head. The crown was massive, covered in gold and jewels, inscribed with the names of every High Tar ever to reign in silver. Once the crown was on the Pantheonic herald stepped back and bowed, then walked quietly off of the platform. The next was the ‘Stain herald, who carried the Royal Scepter. A massive staff of solid gold that ended in a ball studded in rubies and diamonds and capped with the ‘Stain cross with a crucified Pokosian on it. Armerelos took it from the herald and kissed the cross with is beak gently. That herald too stepped away. The third and final herald, the herald of the Predestiny faith stepped forward with his silver robes and placed in Armerelos’s other hand a ancient book, studded with all kinds of finery and written on gold leaf. He kissed that too and then placed it on the podium and opened it to the passage he had chosen earlier in the day, with his first words the choir stopped and filled the hall with dead silence.

“On one great day on the Mountain of the Holies, The High Tar of the people will before all in attendance shall lead his people out from their hidden vales and villages and into the light of the greater community” Armerelos stated clearly to the crowd. Some bowed their heads in reverence while those who did not follow that faith listened intently.

Armerelos placed his scepter against the podium and began his speech.

“That passage was written by The One several hundred years ago. Now the most devout of the followers of Predestiny claim that it was meant to describe the decision my father made to break our isolation and step onto the greater stage that is the galaxy. Rather fitting is it not? Now there are some who say that passage was meant for me. To be honest, I am not one to dictate religious belief. I do dictate law, to a degree, trade to a degree. I am only as strong as you, the people let me be. I do not stand up here as a absolute monarch, but a constitutional one” Armerelos paused for a moment to collect his thoughts “Several years ago we as a people celebrated the end to a great war, one that for the first time in our history, was as allies to a collection of nations that faced an enemy that was brutal, vindictive, and not dangerous. We fought side by side with Xiscapians, Alversians, Setulans, and many others to bring peace to a troubled galaxy. We all fought hard, we all lost. In the end we came out victorious and for the better, part of an alliance that brought new ideas, new trade, and new possibilities to our people. By joining that alliance, it gave us a responsibility to our new allies. We earned our place in this alliance and we now stand in a place to help those who have given us so much. The Setulan people stand on the precipice. With the Exile threat spreading even beyond their borders while we sit her comfortably in our nests and count the lochs that we have accumulated in trade from the same allies that are now hurting. We are acting like a rich merchant, that while his neighbor starves but gives no food, or while his neighbor is beaten by thugs walks by and prays to the spirits that it will not be him next, all the while not doing anything. No we should not, nor shall I let it.”

We stand at a crossroads my friends. Shall we stand here and let others suffer as we have done in the past or shall we take action. Like we did during our Great Schism, the Setulans stand on the precipice, facing their own extinction as a culture as the Exiles attack and destroy the Setulan way of life. We have a responsibility to our friends and allies to step forward and say in a collective voice, ‘No More!’ No more shall we stand idle and watch countless die in a purging that has not been seen for centuries, No more shall we stand and watch as the young and feeble die of hunger, No more shall we as a race of sentient beings allow ourselves to bask in the glow of our allies faith and prosperity while one of them suffers so. I have proposed bill after bill to you, my councils and one after another they are shot down. All the while you count your lochs and smile. We need some new blood in the Councils. New ideas, new prospects, as such I have an announcement, of which you all must take into consideration that it is not to supplant anyone, nor break any of the laws and customs of the Pokosian people”

There was a pause. Armerelos studied the crowd. He could tell that many were tense, yet others, to his surprise seemed to be rather receptive. Leaning forward in their seats as they listened. Armerelos noticed that there were very few Freedom Party members present.

“I shall bring new blood into the Council of Elders, and to do such I have taken steps to ensure that their placement into the Council will be legal, standing, and without reproach. Will Ambassador Enomoto of the Kitusne Empire step forward before me and this legal body of representatives of the Pokosian Commonwealth!”

**********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

Captain Johm Pyteck, of the Sword of the Tar was still shaken by the brief moments only an hour before when he had run into his sister. Someone that he had not seen since the death of his parents. He wanted to report it but he was torn. He had no proof that she was up to something other than what perhaps the most intrepid paparazzi would have done to get a good shot of members of the Royal Flock. He was tasked with the change of the guard. One of the many routine events in the Humbistean district that was usually done by the Foot Guards. For some reason they had been taken off of that duty and placed on guard duty elsewhere in the city, leaving only a battalion’s worth at the summit to supplement the Sword of the Tar regiment that was now guarding the palace and its surroundings. As he walked down the wide street between temples he let his thoughts wander on the many other nuances that he was hoping to pick up before his duty shift was over and he could return to his room in the barracks. He had to do the same task the following day and if he was to do that, he wanted to make sure all of the ceremony and tradition was followed to the letter. That was how Johm worked. Even his superiors complained that his paperwork was too perfect.

At his back marched the small company of troopers that was under his command at the moment and was heading to the main square to relieve the current guardmount that was posted around the Forum Humbisteaus The jet black tunics with red collars and cuffs as stiff as they were woolen made them stand out, Johm’s in particular with the gold accents and three horizontal gold bars on his collar that indicated his rank. Each trooper was in their dress uniforms but still carried their utility belts and sabers, not to mention their staff phasers, that were now at shoulder arms as they marched. Once past the last temple in the district and into the open forum the breeze began to pick up, the company flag picking it up and fluttering and snapping in the gusts of wind that graced the forums stones.

Up ahead in the center of the forum stood the company of troopers that he was relieving. They were in the standard two trooper deep line and standing in place while their officer, for whom Johm had worked with for a long time was one that was even more strict with his men than Johm was, but they loved him even more so than the softer regimental officers. As his company came within range the other company came to attention and went to present arms as Johm’s company came to meet them, that was when Johm began to shout out orders to his company.

“COMPANY, HALT!” The Company came to a stomping halt.

“FRONT!” The Company, in one motion, faced Johm who was now standing opposite of the other companies officer.

“PRESENT, ARMS!” Johms Company returned the honor and the other company went to shoulder arms.

“SHOULDER, ARMS…..ORDER, ARMS……IN PLACE REST!” The rest of his orders brought his companies staff phasers to the shoulder, then to the ground, and then, as a relief to his troopers, to a position in formation that they could rest their feet.

The other officer turned to face Johm and he began to light the long necked pipe that he seemed to enjoy so much and began to puff away happily.

“How are you Johm?” The other officer asked as he puffed away again, sighing as he inhaled.

“All is well I suppose. I take it that clump of military types by the gates belong to big wigs from the Embassy district” Johm stated in a sigh of his own.

“You betcha, they are the big wigs guards. Good fellas. I have spoken with them before during other visits. One of them owes me some good pipe tobacco from their home. I havn’t had much of an opportunity to go over there, considering all the lookie loos that are trying to get a look into the party I have been hopping all over the district” the officer said.

“Well sir, you might as well get your boys back to the barracks and get some chow” Johm said.

The other officer grunted in agreement and reached into his tunic and pulled out a sheet of paper that had his reports on it and gave it to Johm.

“Nothing much to report. It is all there though” The officer said “Allright, thanks Captain Pyteck, I will get the boys out of here and into the warm comforts of their nests”

With a series of sharp orders the other officer had his company of troopers marching off the same way Johm had come in. Once they were out of the light of the suns the Pokosian officer turned to his troopers and gave them one more look before he was going to put them to work.

“ATTENTION COMPANY!” The company came to a stiff attention.

“FLIGHT LEADERS, TAKE CHARGE OF YOUR FLIGHTS AND POST”

With that last order the flight leader of the company took their flights and marched off to their posts or patrol routes, they all had done it before, and had their duties drilled into their minds. That left Johm, the standard bearer, and the bugler. Johm did not really know where he wanted to post his little command group. He had options of course, but his own curiosity brought him to the group of allied military types that stood off to the side of the forum. With his mind finally made up, Johm trooped over to the group with a slow pace, he was in no hurry, his bugler and standard bearer both followed and chatted amongst themselves as they walked. Once there, he fumbled with his haversack and thought about pulling out his own pipe, but decided against it and simply smiled.

“Hello. I am Captain Johm Pytech, Sword of the Tar” Johm said, extending a hand to the nearest of the foreigners.

Augesh 13 2630 SFY,
Tranquietel, Pokos
Sinners Gulch

Madison paced back and forth while she waited for the leaders of the rebellion to get to the meeting place they had chosen, a place located near the old temple at the head of the valley. The alleyway was dark, and seldom used since the neighborhood itself was mostly religious buildings and the like and seldom used for any but the three clergies of the Pokosian people. She had chosen the location because of how quiet it was. Very little sound escaped with the exception of the occasional gust of wind that would whistle through if it was a windy day. Now though, the air hung in the alleyway thickly, keeping the odors of a massive city cling to anyone who entered. That is another reason why she only wanted to come here once, to have the final meeting of the rebellion leaders before the attack would go in.

She was pacing not because she was nervous, that was not in her nature. She was in truth, furious. One of the colonial cells of the more militant faction of the Freedom Party had jumped the gun, attacking the Flock Marshall while he was en route to Pokos. In a way it was a boone rather than a curse. Since the Diplomatic transport that was carrying the Flock Marshall was further out, it would be easier to conceal the actions and perhaps still let all of her carefully laid plans happen the way they were supposed to. But she had studied the Flock Marshall, via spies and biographies the leader of the Pokosian military was a slippery character. He was genius level smart, clever, and was well known to be able to work himself out of a sealed room without any proof of how he did so. Her trap was a sealed room, and if he could do what he was known well to do, then she could possibly be in trouble, having the Pokosian fleet rain fire down on her rebellion before they could take command of any portion of the ships in orbit to fight it off. In a way that is why she wanted a meeting before the rebellion would begin. She wanted to hear, from each of her leaders how many people and in what positions were with her and the cause.

Madison had her thoughts broken by a sudden stream of people that began to file into the alleyway and form into a semicircle around her. As they did they all gave her a nod of respect and stood motionless, waiting for her to speak to them.

“What is the status of our cells people. Due to the colonial idiots that jumped the gun we need to get moving now” Madison snapped, not at her own conspirators, but at the situation.

“We have the full support of several brigades of soldiers from the First Corps, about a regiment of Foot Guards, and a smattering of others. We have several thousand veterans that are in position to take over the barracks of the Foot Guards and other military installations in the city. FLOCKCOM, the spaceport, the Orbital defense stations, and armories across the city being their targets. The Foot Guards unfortunately have been replaced by the Sword in guarding the Humbistean District and have been removed from that duty. They are now in position to take FLOCKCOM and the FTI headquarters” The chief military advisor to the rebellion said.

“Cells are in position across the commonwealth in position to strike all their designated targets. Communications being key targets”

“All personnel targets have been tracked down and are now within sight of our assassins. Any high value people that could resist us are targeted”

“The bridges at the base of the mountain have been rigged to blow, the communication center has been rigged likewise. No one will be able to get in or out of the city without us knowing it. We have a small faction of Pinkertons sworn to our cause and will help keep any airborne traffic from leaving as well”

“Sadly, none of my agents have been able to break into the FTI ranks. As much as we would like to have access to their vault of temporal artifacts that could aid us, we will have to break in and take it. Which will most likely be one of the most secure locations in the city and the hardest nut to crack”

Madison took it all in and frowned the whole time. She wanted more support. If they had more time she could of gotten it. This jump into action had prevented many of her cells and agents to get into the proper locations to take out their primary targets, forcing her to reprioritize cells and groups to more important ones to fill in the gaps. Even more frustrating was the rebellions inability to break into the FTI offices. She hoped against hope that there was some sort of temporal trinket that was being kept in the massive and secure vaults beneath the mountain that could help her cause and make the rebellion as bloodless as possible. No such luck. Madison took a deep breath before uttering her only sentence after the initial reports.

“When the bomb blows and the Commonwealth we strike. Be ready. Like the Predestiny states, before The One came to Pokos and Plaktea, his people were also embroiled in a conflict. A war between provinces. The bravest were those of the southern provinces and they stood together to prevent the northern ones from reigning them with an iron fist. Their symbol was the red flag with blue X, we shall use that symbol to represent our rebellion. Be sure your people wear the armband so they do not get mixed and killed with the Royalists” Madison ordered.

There was a murmur of agreement.

“FREEDOM!” Madison shouted and saluted her compatriots, they returned the shout and the salute, slinking away out of the alley and to their cells, troops, or people. The rebellion was neigh.

Augesh 13 2630 SFY,
PCS Most Serene Song,
En Route to Pokos

Singalee stumbled forward as his rescuers announced themselves to him. He could not help but feel relief surge through him. The dead bodies of his attackers were strewn all across the hallway and in the distance he could begin to hear more fighting raging throughout the ship. That was not the only thing that bothered him, the deck plating beneath his talons were rumbling. The ship must be under attack from both inside and outside the ship. That had him worried. Inside the ship any attack could be managed and defeated in detail due to the internal defense systems. From the outside, the Most Serene Song was a tough nut to crack but it was in the end just a diplomatic transport. Limited weapons, strong shields, and standard engines, it was not built for war. It was built for comfort. Being that he had no idea the strength nor the composition of the attack his military mind was working out scenarios that had a multitude of possibilities.

“Thank you fine soldiers for the assistance. I have to say that if I was a younger male I could of done much more damage, but I am getting older and unfortunately have lost some of my physical prowess” Singalee stated after taking a few needed deep breaths “Could it be possible that I could enlist your help in getting this ship back under control and out of danger? If so, we need to get the bridge of this ship and get it to the nearest safe harbor”

by **Xiscapia** » Mon Sep 15, 2014 11:11 pm

Augesh 13, 2630 SFY (Y.O.O.R. Emperor Foxfire Rose 27)
Humbistean District of Tranquietel
Royal Palace

"I really need kids of my own, but until then I'll just have to steal all the adorable children of my friends."

Lunessa, at least, managed to keep her eyes on Vanessa's face despite the way her dress moved. "I cannot imagine that it would take long once you put your mind to it," she told her. "Until then you can be aunt to my and Enomoto's kits. Or you would if he would give me any," she glanced at her mate, who was pretending to be vastly interested in something Armerelos was saying. Smiling, the Alumina gave Vanessa a wink.

Ambassadress Toal chose that moment to make her appearance, much to Enomoto's relief. He and Lunessa both turned to bow to the Alversian diplomat, who was visibly fashionably late. "Thank you, Ambassadress," he returned to her, knowing full well that the significance of his honor wasn't lost on her any more than it had been on Vanessa. "I bear it proudly." He didn't know Clodagh quite as well as he knew Vanessa, but from all reports and his own experience she was a devilishly smart woman whose intellect was only matched by her work ethnic.

Ceyrn Canesda was introduced and Enomoto couldn't help but cock an ear. This was the last place he would have expected to find one of the rare, seclusive Veela, much less as a guard for a dignitary. It seemed that the Alversians had beefed up their security as well, in their own way. "Always glad to see a Veela, Mr. Canesda," he gave another bow to the lapine, not quite as low as it had been to Clodagh. The kitsune caught Vanessa's eye as he turned back to Armerelos.

He didn't need to say anything to Vanessa for her to know of his reservations about what the High Tar said. The validity of his arguments made little difference in face of fundamentalists and fanatics. Whether or not there'd be enough allies to the cause and moderates to be swayed was up in the air. But he was at least able to smile at Armerelos's determination to have ships in orbit and troops on the ground to fight the Exiles. Even if they lost this the High Tar wouldn't stop fighting.

Before too long the ceremony was due to begin. Nodding, Enomoto gave Armerelos his warmest smile before walking to where the seats had been set up. The High Tar was a great orator, everyone knew that, but what less people knew was how much he disliked dealing with Pokosian nobility despite being one himself after a fashion. As Lunessa settled in beside him he noticed that his footman Torill was standing nearby with the chest in his arms. It wouldn't be appropriate yet, but the Boolean was a good servant so he knew to wait discretely at the back.

Before the speech began all the styles and titles were read and Enomoto suppressed a yawn. Technically the Emperor had styles as well, and it was even said that someone somewhere knew all of them. He'd certainly done enough in the past twenty seven years to warrant having a list as long as his tail. But when asked why he never used them the Emperor had famously responded, "Because I'm not a prick." Somehow Enomoto got the impression that Armerelos would agree with the sentiment.

The choir began to sing and so he closed his eyes, just listening to the music. It always moved something inside of him, and he knew that if he let it the song would bring him to tears, but he still didn't open his eyes. Enomoto could clearly picture in his mind what was happening to Armerelos as he was laden with crown, scepter and tome, reminded of his responsibilities by their weight. The glimmer of it all practically showed through his eyelids.
The singing stopped, and he opened his eyes.

If he'd needed any more convincing of Armerelos's devotion to the cause of helping Setulan then the speech would have done it. Leaning on the weight of history and reminding all gathered of the last time they'd taken such a risk was a good tactic, given that they'd won that conflict. The moral imperative was heavy as well, and despite himself he glanced over at Vanessa to catch her reaction to it. It was no actual commitment of forces, it was true, but the High Tar had very publicly come out in favor of assisting the Republic and now there would be no turning back. But there was a final piece of the puzzle, and as soon as his name was called Enomoto stood and began to walk up to the podium.

Every eye in the hall was on him. Those in the know like Vanessa and Clodagh weren't surprised, but he knew the vast majority of the others present would be. Head held high, he walked at a brisk yet stately pace up to mount the stage next to Armerelos, inhaling as he clasped his hands in front of him. His tail was low as he looked out over the crowd, a small smile on his muzzle. It was a smile he was not sure that he entirely felt.

----

Bolton was frowning. "So if we haven't been lucky then what gives? If what you say is true then they could already have agents in place, and from what I've heard it's not like they don't have ships to spare if they wanted to send something this way. The Commonwealth's not in the war yet, but if the High Tar gets his way then it will be. So...what the hell?" She looked at Mepou, who just shrugged and sucked in more smoke. If the Exiles were fucked off then they could stay fucked off for all he cared.

The pair of Alversians stepped up and the Setulanite Xiscapian subtly pivoted towards them. As with Torres she knew Paul and Aideen from her time with the embassies and she respected them well enough even if they weren't professional soldiers. "No one's decided to share that information with us," she told the man by way of greeting. "But it looks to me like there's a troop from the Sword of the Tar headed our way. Might try asking them."

by **Setulan** » Tue Sep 16, 2014 3:24 am

High Tar's Palace

"I cannot imagine that it would take long once you put your mind to it. Until then you can be aunt to my and Enomoto's kits. Or you would if he would give me any,"

Vanessa smiled at the words.

"The problem is finding someone who can keep up with me." A returned wink at Enomoto's clear discomfort was somewhat spoiled by the arrival of the Alversian Ambassadress.

Well, the gang's all here.

Despite everything, the Setulan woman couldn't help but feel a sense of well being. The three diplomats represented the most powerful force in an entire galaxy, and some would argue in two galaxies. It was good to present a united front, and she knew she could count on the other two for help in that regard.

The arrival of the Veela was another pleasant surprise. Though not a particularly religious woman Lorde was still a member of the Church of Setulan, which venerated the Veela for their role in the Saint's life. She returned the lapine's bow with a nod of her own...though she found herself somewhat concerned. That the Veela were breaking their long isolation spoke of tremendous danger, and she wondered if maybe the jedi knew something she didn't.

Before she could ask, it was time for the king's speech. Lorde took her seat next to her fellow ambassadors and tried to let the music take her away as it had in the past, but she couldn't. Her mind was filled with the fire she knew was burning her home to the ground. The speech itself was excellent, and as the High Tar spoke she remained completely poised and attentive, resisting the urge to surreptitiously look around the room to see how many of the nobles were receptive or outraged. She could feel hundreds of eyes turning to her and stayed poker faced. Though more than pleased by the unequivocal vote of support from the Pokosian monarch, she still had her reservations. Words were wind; she needed proper action before she relaxed.

As Enomoto began to ascend the staircase the Setulan smiled at him reassuringly.

Game time...

------

"So if we haven't been lucky then what gives? If what you say is true then they could already have agents in place, and from what I've heard it's not like they don't have ships to spare if they wanted to send something this way. The Commonwealth's not in the war yet, but if the High Tar gets his way then it will be. So...what the hell?"

Torres simply shrugged.

"If I could tell you that, then I wouldn't be a fucking Sergeant First Class, now would I?" A brief smile to show there was no heat to the words. "My gut tells me they know something we don't."

Bolton greeted the arriving Alversians with a nod of his head, steppign back slightly to let them into the circle. Dressed in the same vein as himself, it was an amusing contrast to the power armored Xiscapians. Of course, from the way the conversation was going the MP was dearly wishing for his beloved MPBA.

“Hello. I am Captain Johm Pytech, Sword of the Tar”

Being the nearest, Torres took the proffered hand and gave it a firm shake.

"Sergeant Torres. Good to know you, Captain." Looking briefly at his companions, the Setulan asked the question they all wanted to know. "So what's with the changing guard, Captain? I know you guys have prettier uniforms, but I was under the impressions it was the Foot Guard who had responsibility for the district."

by **Alversia** » Sat Oct 11, 2014 9:12 am

“It is a pleasure to see you all,” Toal nodded in each in turn. It seemed like the crowds were gathering to a critical mass now and there were few important nobles absent just from looking around. Beside her, the considerably smaller Ceyrn just smiled and bowed his head.

“It is a pleasure to be here,” he said in a friendly voice that did not quite reach his eyes. He looked detached, or perhaps distracted, by something that none of them could see. It was also quite apparent that beneath the traditionally modest Veelic cloak, he was wearing a very thin armour that seemed to cover everything but his head, “but please, address me as Ceyrn. Canesda is much too formal a title to be using in conversation.”

Toal turned her attention back to the High Tar and his promise of support for the Setulan cause. It was a good speech, she thought, and it was definitely heartfelt but nothing in politics was ever that simple and definitely not in the Commonwealth. The King was popular but he had lost a lot of political clout following the Danaversian War. As far as they were concerned, good Pokosians had died for very little gain in the Commonwealth except for more interference from beyond the planets of this nation. There were plenty who resented AXIS and this new conflict may push the support of many moderates to breaking point. She made it her business to be up-to-date of all opinion swings and moods of the Commonwealth’s ruling class and she knew there was little appetite for war. Her gut feeling was any appeal for military assistance would end in defeat. This time at least.

Smiling at Armerelos’ joke, the Alversian Ambassadress and her new best friend took the seats indicated for them close to the front and close to the others. Gracefully sliding into the chair, she watched the nobles with a keen eye as they began to fill the seats around her. They were gaudily dressed as expected, dazzling in riches and finery designed to attract the eye and scorn their rivals. She could see they were talking to one another in low voices, greeting old friends or distant relatives before muttering a few quiet words she could not make out. Beside her, Ceyrn was tense. She could tell before he was sitting a lot more stiffly than she was used to. She looked at him and rolled her eyes.

“You seem tense,” she said.

“I am,” he agreed. He was not looking at her but scanning those around them, eyes falling on each in time before moving on to the next, “something is wrong.”

“Where?” Toal started to follow his gaze, not sure what she was looking for, “Exiles?”

“No. Something else.”

“What?”

“I cannot tell. There is danger here.”

Toal raised her hand and attracted the attention of one of the servants who lined the hall waiting patiently for such a summons. As soon the Avian was beside her and even before she could get her practised greeting out, the Alversian leant up and whispered in her ear,
“There may be a threat in this building. Please inform the head of security as soon as possible.”

As the girl scrambled away, Toal turned her attention back to the speech. She had missed little other than the long decree of titles that had bored her to tears at first but to which she was now used. At least, she could tell when it was going to end. It was followed by the rest of the ceremony, the acquisition of the regal artefacts and then he began. It was a good speech, sharp and involving but the real nub of the matter was when he mentioned new blood and the need to join the war. Looking around familiar faces amongst the nobility, she could see the disapproval building. That was before Enomoto was called up. She watched as he swept up to stand beside the High Tar, hands in front of him and a small smile on his muzzle. He was the very definition of calm but she knew how he must be feeling.

She looked around to measure the responses of those around her and, even as she did so, she took in her companion. Ceyrn had sat through the entire speech with his hands in front of him, finger tips together and his eyes closed. Only now she saw one of his hands depart the other and slowly slide down to his belt, where the hilt of his weapon sat.

“Problem?”

“Almost certainly."

---

"No one's decided to share that information with us," she told the man by way of greeting. "But it looks to me like there's a troop from the Sword of the Tar headed our way. Might try asking them."

Paul had been just about to do that as he half-turned to see the Pokosian approaching but Torres beat him to it. As it was, the Alversian was content to stand and wait for the reply to come from the only source who might be able to reliably tell him what was going on. He could feel the unease from the others though, instincts honed over long careers twitching furiously but he couldn’t tell precisely what was causing it and that was what was annoying him. The Foot Guards had been replaced by the Sword of the Tar sure but that spoke of a threat that the Foot Guards could not be trusted to deal with. Was there a threat within the Guards? If there was, then it was likely not the only place. He tried to shake those troubling thoughts from his mind but he could not help but keep his hand close to his weapon.

PCS Most Serene Song

“Could it be possible that I could enlist your help in getting this ship back under control and out of danger? If so, we need to get the bridge of this ship and get it to the nearest safe harbor”

“We have contacted Malacus, Marshal,” Rourke explained while Singalee got his breath back, “naval assets are en route. They will escort the ship into port if required and provide reinforcements if the ship is taken. Our priority is to ensure that you are not injured or killed. The ship is a secondary objective.”

Even as she said it though she picked up on the fighting throughout the vessel. There was no alarm as she could hear it and those bode ill. If no one had raised it then that told her that the battle had be internal, not that the dead bodies of Pokosians dressed in the uniform of the navy did not give it away already.

“We can move to a safer location if you wish,” the Alversian said while her partner continued to cover the door, “but we may not be able to tell friend from foe until it is too late if we encounter anyone in the corridors.” She knew the bridge had not yet been taken, because they would definitely have known about it. The two most important places on any ship were the bridge and engineering. If either was taken then the ship was effectively lost.

“It is a risky venture, do you have a plan?” She looked to him, waiting to see if there was something the Flock Marshall had in mind rather than charging through the corridors hoping the first group they were saw were not traitors who would gun them down in the split-second it took to identify them.

by **O Boyce** » Sat Oct 25, 2014 9:37 pm

Augesh 13 2630 SFY,
City of Tranquietel, Pokos
Humbistea District

The column of troopers marched in step up the Royal Road that lead up Humbistean District, their talons clicking on the paved stones that lined the ancient road. More troopers and revolutionaries poured out from the alleys and side roads and joined the column. It was a sight to see. So far over a thousand revolutionaries had joined the once small column that followed the flag of blue with red ‘X’ across it, the ‘X’ bearing eleven stars. A symbol of the rebellion that lead to the overthrow of High Tar Artos III and banned since the end of the Predestiny War that was now fluttering in the breeze at the head of the column alongside the Dark Blue banner with a large white star on it, another symbol from that war and now symbols of this rebellion. The troopers themselves were in a ragged column, constantly as such because of the steady stream of people who joined it. There were far less than Madison had hoped. Many of the people looked out from the windows of the buildings they passed in shock and awe, talking amongst themselves and pointing at the spectacle.

Madison herself marched at the head of the column, leading it along with a grouping of Rebellion officers that were all wearing something close to a uniform. They all wore butternut colored tunics and gear that they had made and stored all across the city in the months before the uprising was supposed to begin. She had her father’s saber strapped to her belt along with her hand phaser. Her helmet was an older model military helmet that had been phased out at the beginning of the Dann War and had flooded the black market since. A favorite of anyone who did anything that required a little wet work. The wreathed stars on her collar indicated that she was holding the rank of Flock Marshall, something that she wished her father could have seen, after his military disgrace on the Ranus Campaign and his following suicide. He would be proud of her. She hoped a least. That was not the say that everyone in the column was as well dressed as she was. Some were wearing the uniforms from previous wars, some wore what they wore to work. There were Pinkertons, laborers, bankers, all sorts of people from all walks of life. All of them carried a wide variety of weapons but most carried staff phasers of various types and models, some carried older projectile weapons, even some carried pikes and spears that they had made, found, or stole. Out of one alley a group musicians came out, carrying drums, fife, and horns and trickled into the column somewhere behind the flags. These musicians must have been familiar with the symbols and began to play a marching tune that quickly picked up through the column and the troopers in it began to sing the tune at the top of their lungs.

We are a band of brothers and native to the soil
Fighting for our liberty, with treasure, blood and toil
And when our rights were threatened, the cry rose near and far
Hurrah for the Bonnie Blue Flag that bears a single star

Hurrah! Hurrah!
For people’s rights, Hurrah!
Hurrah for the Bonnie Blue Flag that has a single star

As long as the Commonwealth was faithful to her trust
Like friends and like brethren, kind we were and just
But now, when Royal treachery attempts our rights to mar
We hoist on high the Bonnie Blue Flag that bears a single star

Hurrah! Hurrah!
For people’s rights, Hurrah!
Hurrah for the Bonnie Blue Flag that has a single star

First gallant Cardiniar nobly made a stand
Then came Volkin and took her by the hand
Next quickly Kaz, Weber, and Pokos City
All raised on high the Bonnie Blue Flag that bears a single star

Hurrah! Hurrah!
For people’s rights, Hurrah!
Hurrah for the Bonnie Blue Flag that has a single star

Ye men of valor gather round the banner of the right
Amontirionarta and fair Lat’Lorien join us in the fight
Sam’eual our loved leader, and Lucksee statesmen fair
Now rally around the Bonnie Blue Flag that bears a single star

Hurrah! Hurrah!
For people’s rights, Hurrah!
Hurrah for the Bonnie Blue Flag that has a single star

Now here’s to brave Tranquietel, the old Royal Capitol
With the young Rebellion at last has sealed her fate
And spurred by her example, now other states prepare
To hoist on high the Bonnie Blue Flag that bears a single star

Hurrah! Hurrah!
For people’s rights, Hurrah!
Hurrah for the Bonnie Blue Flag that has a single star

Then cheer, boys, cheer, raise a joyous shout
For Uttumo and Lucksee Stead now have both gone out
And let another rousing cheer for Plaktea be given
The single star of the Bonnie Blue Flag has grown to be eleven

Hurrah! Hurrah!
For people’s rights, Hurrah!
Hurrah for the Bonnie Blue Flag that has a single star

Then here’s to our Rebellion, strong we are and brave
Like patriots of old we’ll fight, our heritage to save;
And rather than submit to shame, to die we would prefer
So cheer for the Bonnie Blue Flag that bears a single star

Hurrah! Hurrah!
For people’s rights, Hurrah!
Hurrah for the Bonnie Blue Flag that has a single star

The tune kept going and going, the troopers in the column getting louder and louder the closer they got the Humbistean District. Madison could see the massive cyclopean walls and the solid stone gate that barred off the Royals and the privileged from the people that were unhappy with their rule. She wanted could feel fear and anxiety bubble up in her stomach and crop as she got closer to her target. It did not look as though it was teeming like an angry nest like it should have been if the bomb had gone off yet. The plan was to be able to break into the district with ease while the whole place was in chaos. That was not the case now. There was an air of calm over the district now. Not even the small clutch of troopers or officers that stood near the gates looked like they had even noticed the column make the turn onto the main avenue.

Madison’s thoughts and anxieties were broken by the thump and crackle off in the distance, the faintest sound of phaser fire. That was coming from the direction of the FLOCKCOM where the military held their offices and warehouses. More sounds were coming from the spaceport down near the base of the mountain, even fainter that the first batch of sounds. That was her que to get her column to move faster towards their target. She drew her sword and shouted her orders.

“SINNERS BRIGADE, AT THE DOUBLE QUCIK, MARCH!”

She gave a wicked avian grin at the humor of the name she gave her column. Not only had the core of it came from Sinners Gulch, but by law until they overthrew the government, they were sinning in the eyes of the law. With her order given the column began to pick up their pace, twice that of the common step and the district started coming even closer at a faster pace. The troopers up ahead were now beginning to react. The small cluster by the gate were looking intently at the column, one of them with a scope, looking closely at the advancing rebels. The officer dropped the scope and began to turn to shout orders to what Madison could now tell was a bugler when the ground shook hard as the windows on the Great Hall on the palace exploded outward in a shower of flame, smoke, and shattered glass and obsidian. The officer at the gate dropped to the ground for a moment before Madison could hear the bugle call for assembly while over the din of the explosion and the resulting aftermath she could hear the orders for the guards to rally.

The Rebellion had officially come to Tranquietel.

*****************************************************************************

Johm stood there for a few moments after the allied trooper asked him the question that he knew he was going to be asked. He did not need really have all of the information about the guard change, but all he could do was speculate. Speculation was all well and good but he would rather deal in hard facts rather than the less obvious, but he was asked a direct question, he should answer. Making up his mind in a split second he took out the pipe in his haversack and began to answer while he packed the sweet tobacco into it, lighting it and puffing happily as he did.

“I honestly could not give you the whole truth, being that I personally do not have the facts myself. A week ago the Flock Marshall of the Sword got orders to pull a whole regiment out of its posting and take over guard duty here. There has been a lot of talk about this Freedom Party stuff going on but from what I understand they are non radicals, whackjobs, but non radicals. My sister is one of them” Johm replied, puffing away.

He stood there puffing away while he let his mind wander while he waited for a reply. In the back of his mind he was thinking of marching tunes. A curse of being in the military you heard so many that it was something that would always creep up on you when you were not paying attention. It happened to him so many times that he was shocked that he had not gone mad with headaches and being an officer he was usually somewhere near the drums and fife while on the march. This time though, the song was different, something old, something that he had only heard in old movies and at reenactments. It took him a moment to realize that the drums and fife were accompanied by words being sung by troops on the march.

Johm looked around and down the avenue that lead up to the gates. Far below there was what looked like a column of troops on the march. He initially dismissed it. It was Hatching day after all, and parades were not uncommon. He only dismissed it until he heard the very faint crackle of weapons fire far off. Being in the military made you keen on that sort of thing. Something was odd here.

In one smooth moment Johm lowered his pipe and pulled out a scope from his haversack and looked downrange at the oncoming column of butternut that was moving uphill. The column itself went from ant tiny to life size in seconds as he zoomed in. What he saw shocked him and intrigued him at the same time. The column was vaguely military, right down to the two banners that flew from the front. It did look rather ragged as though some were uniformed in some sort of military uniform of butternut of Pokosian style tunics, while others looked to be wearing all sorts of clothing from all walks of life. All though were armed and wearing some sort of arm bands that were on their sleeves. The two flags at the head of the column was what shocked him the most, it was the old Predestiny War Rebellion flag, which had been made illegal to have let alone march with in public since directly after the war nearly three centuries ago. His mind began to whirr with thoughts and theories as one of the advancing group drew and raised a sword and made up his mind that this was no demonstration but an attack on the Royal palace and that weapons fire that he though he heard was what he thought, danger.

Johm dropped the scope and it hit the paved stone hard as he turned to shout to his bugler. As he did so he was slammed to the ground by an explosion that ripped through the windows of the Great Hall. Glass, stone, obsidian and other materials showered all over the forum as he began to recover from the concussion of hitting the ground hard. He wiped the blood trickling from his nostril and mouth, getting blood on the feathers on his arm which was now exposed through his torn tunic. His bugler was dead, a piece of obsidian severing his neck from the rest of his body. The flag bearers were recovering their charges and Johm began to take action.

“TO ARMS, TO ARMS! ALL MEN TO YOUR POSTS!” Johm shouted through the din while people rushed about to ascertain the damage done.

***************************************************************************
Armerelos looked down at Enomoto with a look of deep friendship. Something that he knew was not lost on the ambassador. They had both had gotten to know each other after years of working together. The military displacements of the Commonwealth during the war was the brainchild of both Enomoto and Armerelos. None the less, he did feel bad for his kitsune friend. He knew that this honor, although prestigious and a great honor, a person like the ambassador would rather not have to deal with all of the attention that it drew. Either way, the decision had been made, and he could trust no one else when it came to government officials and advice. Once the ambassador was standing in front of him he looked up and began to speak to the now silent crowd.

“I, High Tar Armerelos the Second of that Name do hearby raise Enomoto, current Kitsune Ambassador to the Pokosian Commonwealth, to the noble rank of High Elder of the Pokosian peerage. All rights, properties and income due to a person of this position are unassailable and shall come directly from the purse of the High Tar. As such, he shall also receive the Honorary admission to the Order of the Tar, which adds him to the Royal Flock and a member of my own household and placing him Seventy Second in line to the throne” Armerelos announced, leaning forward and placing the Orders chest star medal onto the chest of Enomoto and smiling as he did so.

Off to the side of the room there was a bit of a scuffle as Armerelos noticed that a palace aid was rushing up to the side of the podium to a clutch of members of the guard that had taken up positions around the podium. As this all happened there was a bright flash. The High Tar only had seconds to react to the explosion as it was erupting from the air vent behind the throne. Seconds seemed like hours as he leapt towards Enomoto and wrapped him in his wings as the entire room erupted in flames, light, and sound. He could hear the windows beyond begin to crack and shatter under the pressure wave of the blast just as Armerelos and Enomoto slammed into the ground hard, Enomoto shielded from the blast by the body of the High Tar. Almost immediately the High Tar lost his vision, he couldn’t breathe, his body hurt everywhere and no matter how hard he tried, he could not move his body but he could feel blood pooling near his mouth and nostrils, it did not take long for darkness to take him. The entire time the only thing he could think about was if his friend was unharmed and that his family was safe. He only had the energy to moan one more thing before he completely slipped into the black.

“….Kill the bastards, no quarter……”

Augesh 13 2630 SFY,
PCS Most Serene Song,
En Route to Pokos

The ship shuddered once again as it came under fire and made Singalee stumble a bit as he began to gain his balance again. There were several options on the Diplomatic Cruiser. The engine room, the battle bridge, the shuttlebay, either location gave the small party a way to get to safety, but his primary duty was to the Commonwealth and the people who served it, so he had no option of his own other than to try to save the ship and her crew if possible. He also needed to ascertain what was going on throughout the ship. How much of the ship was compromised? How much of the crew had turned? All information that he needed to make a plan that could get him and anyone to safety.

“We need to get somewhere to find out the situation on the ship. Engineering is the closeset place that can control the ship. There is an auxiliary system box there that can be set to reroute all shipboard controls should the main bridge be compromised. Weapons, shields, sensors, engines, everything. What is the estimated time of arrival of your supports?” Singalee asked.

As he talked he stumbled down the corridor in the direction of main engineering. From time to time, they paused as he looked down adjacent corridors, some of which were already littered with the dead and dying, or blocked by ship damage that blocked the path. There were a few moments where there were brief hand to hand combat that led to the small group to get their hands on what troopers called ‘wet work’. It was not until they reached the doors to main engineering that they stopped. The doors looked undamaged but the area looked to be abandoned. Singalee was a little worried, he had no idea of what was behind the doors and if they were under enemy control.

“We are going to have to treat this very delicately, there could be plenty of hostiles in there”

by **Xiscapia** » Wed Nov 26, 2014 7:23 am

Augesh 13, 2630 SFY (Y.O.O.R. Emperor Foxfire Rose 27)
Humbistean District of Tranquietel
Royal Palace

Despite everything Enomoto couldn't help but feel proud as his chest swelled with the High Tar's words. Whatever else it meant, Armerelos trusted him with the duty that this title bestowed, and that trust was a true sign of their friendship. He would make sure that he didn't regret his decision. Though he didn't look down at it, he could feel the weight of the Orders medal on his chest, a weight that he knew wouldn't really go away even after he took it off. Instead he took solace in Armerelo's smiling face, giving him a genuine smile back this time. But when the Pokosian moved his head he became aware that something was wrong.

When he looked out into the crowd Enomoto's eyes automatically sought out Lunessa, but she wasn't looking at him. Instead the Alumina was leaning forward and looking down the row, ears perked in alarm as she watched Toal and Ceyrn. Then a group of guards stormed in, forming a perimeter around the throne, and he unconsciously took a step back, ears twisting as his tail snapped in confusion. He thought he could hear shouting and the distant hiss of something outside.
A blinding flare from somewhere behind him made him duck his head before something slammed into him and the kitsune hit the floor hard.

Blinded with his ears ringing, he lay there as his medical cybernetics started to adjust, the flare compensation that had blackened his vision lifting as his eardrums started to repair themselves. His internal biomonitor informed him of no serious damage beyond a few cuts and scrapes confined to his extremities, outlining them on an A.R. figure behind his eyes. It took him a moment to realize that Armerelos was lying on top of him, wings still holding him tightly. Blood was leaking from Armerelos's nostrils and when he opened his mouth to speak it trickled from his beak, spotting on Enomoto's robes. His own mouth parted, the Xiscapian stared at him, too shocked for words.

“….Kill the bastards, no quarter……”

"I will," he heard himself promise automatically. Armerelos's head dropped and he spent another moment staring at him before reality came crashing down. Wrapping his own arms around the High Tar, Enomoto climbed to his feet and picked him up as if he weighed no more than a chick. "Medic!" he called into the smoky, ruined hall, staggering off the remains of the platform. His voice only rasped, and he struggled to strengthen it. "Help!"

----

With both the DDA agents and Torres going for the well-dressed look and even the soldiers of the Sword of the Tar sporting resplendent finery, Bolton felt a bit out of place. Not that she would have felt more comfortable in a suit than in power armor, but it stood out. She just had to hope that the protection it traded for subtlety would be enough. As Torres took Pytech's hand she looked on, not bothering to hide her interest. "All that on account of the Freedom Party," she said, casting another look at the building.

It was then that the marching song drifted over to them and Bolton turned, frowning. It looked like a large group of Pokosian soldiers, but not any troops she had ever seen before, and certainly not carrying that banner. Even she knew that the Rebellion flag was illegal to own, and she caught it fluttering in the breeze as her helmet closed over her head to provide her with the benefits of its sensors. Zooming in brought the column into sharp relief, and she saw with a jolt that the mass of people were armed with everything from staff phasers to slugthrowers, spears and seemingly whatever else they could lay their hands on. The crack of weapons fire in the distance sealed it for her: the other shoe had just dropped.

"Corporal, on me," she turned to Mepou, yanking her shotgun from her back as she started to step forward. "We need to protect the Ambassador-"

Her next words were lost in the thunderclap of the explosion that threw her and the Zillar to the ground, armor thudding into the dirt as they both dropped hard. Shrapnel bounced off her armor like metal rain, shields absorbing the worst of it before shorting out and letting the hard carapace take care of the rest even as her medical implants reported no damage. The same couldn't be said for Mepou, who was curled on the ground, both hands clasped over the left side of his face, blood seeping out through his fingers to his groans of pain. Bolton finally caught up with her own machines and rolled with a whir of servomotors, shotgun still clutched to her body as she stood, sensors sweeping the area around her to cover the radius that she couldn't actually see. With Pytech and his troops running for the gate she checked on Paul and Aideen to make sure they were okay before looking to Torres, hoping for leadership in spite of herself.

by **Setulan** » Sat Nov 29, 2014 5:33 am

Royal Palace

Perhaps it was because of how preoccupied she was with things back home. Maybe it was due to her concerns over the Freedom Party's obstructionism, or pride at Enomoto's great honor. Whatever the reason (and she would never know exactly what it was), Lorde simply didn't notice that Lunessa, Toal and Ceyrn were beginning to get edgy. The first warning she would have was when the room erupted in a smoke and noise. One moment she was sitting comfortably, and the next she was flat on her face with her ears ringing and a dull throbbing pain in her arm and a sharper feeling in her ankle.

Groaning softly, Vanessa went to push herself off the ground and immediately collapsed again, moaning in pain. Looking at her left arm, she saw that it was as crimson as her dress from a long, deep gash that ran half the length of her forearm. Rolling over and sitting up slowly, she looked down and saw that her ankle was twisted almost ninety degrees the wrong way.

"Fucking hell..."

Looking to her left she saw a mangled corpse, all that remained of one of the High Tar's nobles. Scooting over to him, she began to rip part of his uniform off and tie up her arm to stop the bleeding. Looking around, she desperately hoped to make eye contact with any of her friends and fellow diplomats to ensure they were ok.

----

When Bolton spun around to find Torres, she wouldn't see him.

Then she would look down.

The Setulan bodyguard had managed to get his pistol out but little else before the explosion. Though his suite was the protective equivalent of a Level I vest, the spray of heavy shrapnel had been too much and he had been laid low. Wide open eyes stared into the starry night as his hand reached fruitlessly for the heavy gun that had gone flying from his grip. Dark, heavy blood pumped from more than a dozen wounds, the worst of which was a length of rebar almost two feet long going clean through his chest and puncturing his lungs. Bolton dropped to a knee and immediately began to perform first aid but Torres grabbed her by the collar of her armor and, with an impossibly strong grip, pulled her face close to his. Instinct caused her visor to snap up.

Dark eyes looked into dark eyes.

"Keep. Safe. Protect. Her. Know. What's. Coming."

He coughed hard, spraying crimson onto Bolton's armor and staining his pearly teeth. His eyes were desperate. Pleading.

"Our blood..."

He coughed again, and then the grip slackened. Lucas Torres was no more. As she gently closed his eyes, Bolton finished the mantra that was the Military Police's driving principle since the days of the Drug Wars.

"Our blood for theirs."

The blood of the police so the blood of the people would remain safe.

The Setulan Marine pulled the second dog tag from her friend's body and rose.

Setulan Embassy, Tranquietel

Heavy boots thudded down the ramp as the ready squad of military police, eleven soldiers in all, stood on the ramp of their Maxellian. All were kitted out in MPBA and carrying a full combat load.

"Alright, MPs, listen up! Torres just went dark. He has been KIA. There are reports of an explosion in the palace and fighting has broken out across the entire city. From her vitals, the ambassadress is wounded but alive. You are going to go get her. We are in a friendly city, but standard ROE applies - if it looks hostile, you fucking kill it! Take no chances. This could be a full blown rebellion here, and we don't know who is fighting who or if the local military and law enforcement are friendly." Sergeant First Class Harrison gave her squad a hard look. "Be careful. Get the ambassadress and, if necessary, you also evac other AXIS notables. Get out there!"

The squad mounted up and Harrison ran back to the command center on the fourth floor. Looking out the window, she saw the Maxellian roar out the gate with the vehicle commander in the cupola, steady hands on the Banshee. They would get Lorde, and then -

There was an explosion of catastrophic proportions as the Maxellian rolled over an anti-tank mine. The infantry carrier was split in half and blazing white fire erupted out of all the hatches, frying the poor souls inside and killing most of them instantly. A few managed to stumble out, burning and screaming even in their power armor, as the sturdy vehicle collapsed in on itself. Every window within three blocks shattered from the thunderclap and even the heavily reinforced windows of the embassy shook in their frames.

Harris looked out at the vehicle and paled.

"By the ten..."

Xiscapian Embassy, Tranquietal

The Marines out front of the embassy were tense. The explosion had been clearly visible from their location and they were getting word of full blown battles erupting across the city. That tension would prevent a bad night from getting worse.

It was a Pokosian wearing a police uniform. That part would always stand out to the two Marines who saw him coming. It was the Warrant who realized something was off, that there was no reason for a cop to be alone by the embassy, and -

"Freedom!"

The phaser round smashed into a Marine, shattering their power armor at the kneecap and sending them screaming to the ground before the salty warrant blasted the bird-man off his feet with a spray of slugs. Grabbing his wounded companion he began dragging her to cover as a scattered hail of bullets came at the walls from the outside.

"We're taking fire! We're under attack!"

Alversian Embassy, Tranquietal

It was a child. God be good, why did it have to be a child?

Corporal Tarrin couldn't stop staring at the little body in front of him. Still a hatchling. Probably not even into high school yet, or whatever the Commonwealth equivalent was. That didn't make the grenade he had been carrying any less lethal though.

Well, he had dropped them. God be good, but he had. He had to. That didn't make it any easier, though.

More shooting had started nearby, mostly phasers that smacked off of the armor plating of the embassy's strong walls. Tarrin couldn't make himself move. He couldn't find it in himself to take cover and return fire, not after what he had just done.

"Damnit, Corporal! Get your shit together! NOW! The Setulan and Xiscapian embassies are taking fire, stop standing around!"

Shakily, Tarrin moved towards better cover and began scanning his sectors.

A child...

Crisis Command Center, Foxfire

Governor Julia Morris was getting sick of the crisis room. As she sat at the head of the table (two Republican Guardsmen standing behind her tensely) she made eye contact with the assembled officers.

"Get on with your sitrep, general."

A Major General rose from his seat.

"Governor, we have received word of fighting in the capitol of the Pokosian Commonwealth. What we know so far is that there has been a bombing at the palace. No word on the status of the High Tar. Our ambassador's bodyguard is KIA, and she was attending a function at the palace that evening. So far as we know, she is alive. The response team sent by the embassy as killed outright by a planted explosive. At this moment, AXIS embassies are under attack. Nothing too heavy yet, but that might change. There is a full blown rebellion currently being undertaken."

"By whom?"

A Major spoke up. The intelligence officer was the expert on the Commonwealth, but even he looked stumped.

"Ah...we believe the Freedom Party, ma'am. An anti-xeno group that has been gaining steam lately."

"Why didn't we get any warning of this?"

"We...we didn't think that they were a threat. They were annoying, but we didn't believe they could mount a rebellion."

"It's possible they didn't. Not without help." An admiral was speaking now, leaning in intensely. "This is just too fucking convenient. Right as the Exiles return, a rebellion from a group that shouldn't be capable of stirring this much trouble? We need to consider the likelihood that the Exiles are involved. Probably even leading this group."

"Now hold on, Admiral. We don't know that for sure." the Major was frowning at his superior. "We really had awful intel here. We relied on the Pokosian intel organs for this, and if the rebellion goes to to the top it's possible we were fed misinformation - "

"Just like the Exiles did!"

"Enough!" Morris pinched the bridge of her nose. She was tired, so tired...

But she was also the last elected official in executive power in Setulan still alive.

"Admiral, send word to the Alvies and KEX. Probably Exile attack in Tranquietal. We need to stabilize this before it gets out of hand. We can't lose an ally like the Commonwealth. They're AXIS. What can we send without spreading too thin, Admiral?"

"We're already thin. I recommend a Deep Patrol Group with some carrier support. That'll give us a good ground response as well. We'll have to trust the Xiscapians and Alversians for heavy hitters though."

"Do it. Just make sure you send a Captain that has an even keel."

---

Twenty minuets later, a small group moved towards their transition point. The deep patrol squadron had been augmented and represented a lethal combination of space power and ground attack capabilities. Without any fanfare, they passed outside the system FTLi and jumped.

by **Alversia** » Sun Nov 30, 2014 5:17 pm

Royal Palace

In spite of Ceyrn’s obvious unease, Toal settled back into her chair to watch the ceremony as best she could. She listened and applauded to the speech at the same time as everyone else, paying particular attention to Enomoto standing beside the High Tar. She could only imagine how he was feeling right now. It was not often that foreign dignitaries were offered the chance to join the most illustrious fellowship of the ruling elite without first disowning their previous nation or pledging particular allegiance to their new nation. She was interested to see how it would work. Certainly she knew that the High Tar had poured over the ancient legal documentation that covered the rules of his nation to see if such a thing was possible. She knew because she had helped in her own way, confirming their findings after her own research. Now was the moment that those hours of painstaking research and cross-referencing paid off. She couldn’t help but smile as she watched the two males on the stage embrace.

The smile slipped as the troop of security officials stormed out of a side door and took up positions around the podium. Whispers and mutters began to rise from the crowd as the nobles asked amongst themselves if they knew what was going on. She knew and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. If it turned out that Ceyrn had been mistaken or the threat was nothing at all then she would feel foolish, not something she did very often.

She was not sure what happened next.

When she looked back on it in the hours and days that followed, Toal would realise she could only describe it through sensations rather than any coherent narrative. She felt a sensation, a shape from her side throwing her to the ground and jumping atop her. Next, she felt a wave of searing heat, a blast like she had just stepped inside an overactive steam room, robbing her of breath as if it was being sucked from her lungs. There was a bright flash, as if someone had taken a picture of her eye, leaving her able to see only the surreal multi-coloured veins of her inner-eyes as her vision recovered. The shape stayed atop her, keeping her from moving, trapping her. All she could hear were muffled noises like she was underwater, alien sounds that she could not comprehend.

Slowly, her senses returned to her. The muffled sounds became moans, screams and howls of panic and pain. The blinding light was replaced by a scene of carnage that she could not truly describe. Bodies lay scattered everywhere, parts lay even further apart. Others were just puddles of blood and feathers. There were little fires everywhere while the podium seemed to have become the epicentre of the unfolding disaster. The wall behind it had crumbled as if hit by a truck while fine glass windows had all shattered. Part of the roof had caved in and formed its own mountain, building its roots on countless lives crushed beneath it.

Someone was calling to her. It was the shape that had fallen atop her which now took on the appearance of her companion. Ceyrn looked as unruffled as ever, his robes dusty and smouldering in places and his fur a little dirtier. His eyes were full of concern but they were glowing and she could feel it from him, a surge like an electrical spark, as if his very body was throbbing with power,
“Ambassadress,” he was saying to her, hand on her shoulder, “Are you injured?”

“No,” she shook her head, pausing a moment as that sank in. She was not hurt in spite of the carnage around them, “how…?”

“I protected as many as I could,” the Veela informed her. she looked around to see another four minor Pokosian nobles who looked as uninjured but stunned as she, “but it was not enough.”

“Enomoto,” Toal burst as the realisation suddenly hit her dull mind, “the High Tar!”

“I will go to them.” Ceyrn stood.

“Go! Go!” She called and he promptly vanished from sight. She looked around to see if she could see anyone to help. She might have barked at the nobles to do the same but she couldn’t tell for sure. Her brilliant eyes fell on Lorde, “Vanessa!”

She was moving before she even realised it, kneeling down by the Setulanite as she took in her wounds. At first, she thought it was not too bad. Beneath her tattered and broken dress she seemed okay, a bad cut on her arm which she had already tied off with the torn robes of the Pokosian she lay beside, the smell brought bile rising up from the pit of her stomach, “Vanessa,” she looked down to her ankle where her foot had been bent out of position. Wincing at the nasty wound, she reached down and tore the dress from it to get a better look. She recalled everything she had learnt in her training, the extensive medical training to ensure she could handle any emergency she could encounter. A bombing, for she had guessed that was what had to be, was not one of them. She checked over the ankle and looked to her, concerned,
“I’m sorry,” she shook her head, “your ankles in a really bad way. I can’t move you without damaging it further. We need medical assistance,” she looked around in vain.

Cantrell and Quigley had gotten exactly one step towards the hall and their charge when it seemed to erupt. It burst with the fury of a volcano, throwing both of them to the ground in a spectacular fireworks display. Cantrell rose from a groan, aching from where he had hit the ground. It felt as if he had been hit by a speeding truck but in spite of the shrapnel landing around them like rain, he and Quigley were fine. Their shields, carefully hidden in the depths of her suits, had absorbed the damage. The same could not be said for either the Xiscapians or the Setulanites. Mepou was lying on his side, blood seeping from his face and it looked like Torres on his back. The Alversian took one step forward only to see the big man fall still.

“Paul!” Quigley called over the vox as chaos erupted from all sides, “we need to find the Ambassadress!”

He nodded. His priority had to be the Alversian Diplomat, above all other lives, including his own,
“Melissa,” He said to the former MP, “we need to go. The Ambassadors will need our help.”

PCS Most Serene Song

Neither of the Black Falcons shifted as the ship shuddered but both raised their weapons as if expecting an incoming attack. When none was forthcoming, they shared a glance,
“Reinforcements will arrive in under 10 minutes,” Rourke answered, “They will doubtless put Marines aboard. We need to find a way to identify who aboard are still loyal and who are rebelling.” She was not a fan of trying to get to Engineering but then if they needed to secure it then the choice may be taken out of their hands.

“We need to move. We can’t defend this position,” Hill informed her.

Rourke knew the truth of that and sighed, “Okay. I’ll take point. Patrick, you take rear. Do not engage unless necessary.”

“Understood,” the big Alversian nodded.

They began to move through the ship. It was not the most optimal route but Rourke guided them around any of the fighting or anywhere where she knew concentrations of the crew gathered and were therefore likely to have fighting. The smaller and narrower access corridors seemed to be deserted but the Black Falcon always had her weapon raised and her scanners going on overdrive. If anyone ran across them, she would have no hesitation to put them down. At the same time, she switched her weapon to stun. She would not kill anyone she didn’t have to. Not yet at least.

APNHQ 7th Fleet

“Fucking hell, why is it that everything goes to shit at the same time in this fucking galaxy?”

No one thought it wise either to answer the question of the raging Admiral. James Barton had a temper at the best of times and today it turned out was sorely trying his patience. First he had been forced to dispatch ships towards a Pokosian vessel under attack from within and now this. Not for the first time in recent history, a planet within the AXIS alliance had gone dark. This time, it was the capital planet of the commonwealth which had suddenly stopped transmitting. At first the staff at the headquarters of the Alversian 7th Fleet, the closest base to the Commonwealth, had feared that it would be another Setulan, the Exiles blocking all communications before attacking. This was not the case as there were plenty of information coming out, all of it bad.

“The Embassy is under attack, we have lost contact with Ambassadress Toal and it seems that no one is in control of the Commonwealth military.” An aide had informed the famously short-tempered and hard talking Admiral Barton.

Once he had calmed down, the Admiral had poured over the available information, “do we have confirmed reports it’s Exiles and not some crackpot morons having a go at the Commonwealth?”

“No confirmed reports yet Admiral,” An Aide informed him, “no reports stating the opposite either.”

“Alright, we need to be safe. Until contact is established with the planet and we can work out what is going on we need to secure orbit against possible Exile attack. Contact Dean Harris and inform him he’s taking command of a task force heading for Commonwealth territory. They are not to land until the situation can be assessed. Understood?”

“Yes Sir!” The Aide rushed from the room while Barton poured over the reports to date and sent the task force listing. He knew that within minutes, every ship would be ready to go. They had been on combat alert ever since the Exile attack. Vice-Admiral Harris would soon have the situation under control. He could only hope anyway.

Task Force Pokos
Commanded by Vice-Admiral Dean Harris

1 x Invincible-Class Battlecruiser (APS Infinitas)
1 x Victory-Class Heavy Cruiser (APS Bellatrix)
2 x Achilles-Class Cruisers (APS Legacy, APS Ochre)
4 x Ramirez-Class Destroyers (APS Haruna, APS Micah, APS Sayem, APS Vanon)
6 x Scimitar-Class Corvettes (APS Curt, APS Cray, APS Crab, APS Cross, APS Cere, APS Cans)

by **O Boyce** » Sat Dec 06, 2014 4:05 pm

Augesh 13 2630 SFY,
Several moments before the Revolution
City of Tranquietel, Pokos
Vault, FLOCKCOMM

Deep inside the massive complex of FLOCKCOMM was a solitary room. This lone solitary room stood behind hundreds of layers of security precautions, armor, and concrete. It was the probably one of the most important rooms in the entire Commonwealth and due to the activities that occurred inside, there was no mistake that the Vault needed the security. The Vault sat inside yet another room, massive an airy, but the black sheer walls shined in the low lighting that shone from the ceiling some ten feet above the ceiling of the Vault. The walls were permiated with some of the most sophisticated security measures both electronic and physical. They were soundproof, hack proof, and attack proof. At least as far as Pokosian Intelligence stood. In the center of the room stood a massive pillar that was capped by the Vault itself, which kept the high security meeting place separated from all sides and making it very difficult to reach or assault should that happen. The only way someone could reach it was a narrow bridge that would extend at call from the high security door on the north side. It would slide out and connect the Vault with the door and allow for persons to travel to and fro. As of right now the bridge was slowly extending and illuminating as an Pokosian Officer stood at the small ledge that extended from the security door. This officer was as stiff as a ramrod, his uniform tunic just as stiff as he stood. His grey feathers, chipped beak, and robotic right leg and talon spoke more of his character than the medals and ribbons that dangled off of his right breast.

Flock Marshall Jack’sean waited patiently as the bridge finally reached the Vault before he began to walk slowly across, his robotic leg hissing slightly with each step. He had lost it in the fighting on Ranus V during the Dan war while he was leading a charge against the entrenched enemy. He had not been a Flock Marshall then, but his aptitude in strategy, logistics, and sheer and brazen bravery in that campaign. As soon as his leg had healed and his robotic limb had been fitted he had gotten back into the fight. Since then he had been promoted to the command of the Sword of the Tar. He was better known by his moniker, Stonewall, a name that came straight out of Predistiny lore, a famous general that never could be defeated. It was fitting, not only was he a pious member of the ‘Stain religion, but he had yet to be defeated in battle. As of the moment, he was going to battle, in a way. He was going to a meeting of all of the Corps commanders in the Trelani system for a security briefing. Something that was done weekly and since this was a high holiday, done far too late in the day than Stonewall would of liked. As he entered the doors of the Vault the bridge retracted and then the doors sealed the Vault, making it as dark as any night could be.

Inside the vault stood a small pedestal, that had a few controls on it, flanked by a small raised table that Stonewall placed the small pile of tablets that were full of intelligence reports and other files that were pertinent to this meeting. As he approached the pedestal lights began to flicker on all across the room in a circle with him at the head. These lights slowly began to form into the holographic projections of all twenty one Corps or system commanders from across the Commonwealth. Flock Marshall Singalee would have been there to lead the meeting, but he was on assignment so Stonewall was taking lead. Once all of the Pokosian commanders had coalesced into holographic forms he began.

“Thank you for all being present, considering that this is a high holiday” Stonewall stated sternly. He did not approve of idle chit chat but there was a fine line between that and courtesy.

There were murmurs of comments from the other commanders that Stonewall ignored.

“Down to business. Since it is probably one of the biggest concerns of the moment, what is the status of this Freedom Party activists and its environs?” Stonewall asked.

There was a brief pause before replies started to come in. Most of them were unimpressive, stating that there was little to no Freedom Party activity. The ones he was concerned about were on the lesser populated colonies where the Freedom Party had taken a deeper hold. He made note that the Flock of Intelligence should look closer into those systems to garner more information. Kodos, Fa-Singalua, and Uluth systems seemed to be practically void of any Freedom Party presence. His main worry though, was in the home system. The Trelani system was the hub of the Commonwealth and had the highest concentration of Freedom Party activists. Stonewall took the time to listen and list each of the reports given to him until it was his turn to add his assessment.

“This Freedom Party activism worries me. With the Exiles running rampant across Setulan space and how they broke the back of our allies military and government, I fear we may be facing something similar, if not prodded along by Exile agents. They would like nothing more than to destabilize an ally of their enemy” Stonewall began, “So I would like each of you to double your security efforts”

There was a murmur of agreement from the other commanders.

There was a frantic beeping that was coming from one of his tablets. He picked up briefly and began to read. It was a frantic message from the commander of the guard at the main gates of FLOCKCOMM. It was barely readable but it made what happened next very clear. The entire Vault shuddered, followed by the wails of klaxons and alarms.

Stonewall turned to face the other commanders, some suddenly went blank, others flickered as the commander they represented were looking about in shock or surprise, one, the commander of the Foot Guards screamed ‘Freedom’ before his hologram went out. Another vibration shuddered through the Vault as thoughts began to race through his mind, the remaining commanders began looking to him in shock.

“See to your troops and positions, be wary, be prepared, and do your utmost to protect civilians the best you can. I will organize things from here. Stand by for my next message. Hold on, this too shall pass” Stonewall ordered.

The remaining commanders nodded and blinked away. Stonewall turned on a heel and exited the vault, waiting for the bridge. When he finally exited the security section he was greeted by a few troopers who were now decked out in full combat gear and armed to the teeth, members of the SoT. The flight leader of the group turned to him and told him something that he already knew, but didn’t want to admit.

“Sir, those Freedom Party crazies have started a rebellion. The main gates have been breached and there were many in the offices that attacked their fellows. We put them down but not before damage was done. This facility has been compromised” The flight leader announced.

“We shall transfer command to the Flock of Temporal Investigations office. The most secure place in the galaxy as far as I am concerned” Stonewall spoke plainly.

Augesh 13 2630 SFY,
City of Tranquietel, Pokos
Humbistean District

The Great Hall was in chaos. The sheer amount of carnage and destruction was something more reserved for battlefields and not palaces. Not that the Freedom Party extremists cared much about that. For all they knew, the High Tar was dead and the Commonwealth had been decapitated. Some of the ornate statues and pillars were now rent asunder, the podium and the throne were nothing but rubble and the entire hall was covered in blood, feathers, and body parts. Through all of the chaos, Lucksee was barely standing as he had been launched across the room and hand landed in a pile of onlookers that had either been stunned or knocked out, he couldn’t tell which. He was bleeding from his eyes, his nostrils, his beak, his left wing was obviously broken and he was for sure suffering from a concussion. Lucksee tried his best to figure out the situation. What little of the spectators that were on their feet still or still alive were all just as dazed as he was. Everything he looked at looked watery until he discovered that blood was washing over his eyes, causing it to be so.

As his hearing started to come back he could hear a distant voice screaming for a medic, although this voice was not the only one, but it was very familiar. It took him a moment to realize that the voice was Enomoto’s. Lucksee stumbled over to where the voice was coming from. As he got closer he began to notice who he was calling a medic for. Armerelos lay bleeding a broken on the ground next to Enomoto, from a cursory inspection he could tell that the High Tar was not dead, but very close to it. A medic was also there and tending to both of them. Lucksee stumbled the rest of the way and nearly collapsed next to Enomoto.

“My friend, are you ok?” He asked blinking to wash away the blood “And how is his Majesty?”

The medic answered the second question with cool professionalism.

“His majesty is stable, but there is little I can do for him here. As of now he is unconscious but until proper medical staff arrive we can transport him and all of the injured to a medical facility….” His report was cut short by a shout.

Out of a side door rushed ten Foot Guard troopers shouting “Freedom!” as they ran, stabbing and shooting anyone that got in their way. Nobles and commons alike were killed before the few Sword of the Tar troopers still standing reacted. Firing their phasers with trained accuracy and killing a few. One rushed over to Enomoto and Lucksee determined to kill them both before a Sword trooper stepped up and with one swipe of his sword decapitated the attacker sending the head looping in the air trailing blood behind it before it thumped to the ground. It was over in moments but it made things very clear and what the trooper said after almost superfluous.

“Sirs, this place is no longer secure and as far as I can tell, not only is the High Tar severely injured, but should he pass or become incapable of continiuing his reign, you Ambassador Enomoto, are the last surviving noble of the Royal Flock” The trooper stated as the rest of the remaining Sword troopers began to make a loose circle around Lucksee, Enomoto, the medic and Armerelos.

**********************************************************************************

Smoke and dust hung in the air in the Forum as Johm was attempting to get a grip on the situation. From what he could tell, there had been some sort of attack on the palace and with the sounds that were now echoing across the mountain city the fighting was not localized on the Humbistean District. Down the avenue the rebels who were now from what he could tell were intent on rushing the palace. Johm knew that he had about a company of troopers at his immediate disposal, not to mention the ambassadors guards who were most likely going to get involved, a few gatling phasers on limbers not too far away. Not a bad position, the enemy would have to funnel through the gate to get to the palace. A plan began to formulate in his mind through the chaos. About a flight and a half of troopers were already forming a battle line in with the colors that had been posted a few feet the right of Johm, their shields activated and facing forward. As the a smattering of officers began to pour out of the barracks with more troopers, some covered in blood and others not completely in uniform, whilst another was holding a wing in a sling that was starting to soak through with blood.

“Captain Pyteck, what is going on?” One of them asked as they reached the forming battle line.

“Freedom Party” Pyteck gasped.

“Those nuts finally overstepped their bounds!” Another officer added.

“What’s the plan?” The third officer asked.

“See to the perimeter, get those Gatling phasers in position flanking this line. We are going to let them through the gate and burn them down the Gatlings. Our goal is to protect the Palace and the High Tar. Anyone not on the walls or with me here, have them get into the palace and secure it” He stated, he was by far not the one in charge of the entire regiment but without the regimental commander present and Johm being on site, he took charge.

There were nods of agreement and the three other officers and they went to their work. The two Gatling phasers were wheeled into position on their fancy limbers and positioned them on either side of Johms growing battle line which was now two deep and consisting of forty troopers ready to fight. Other troopers were rushing about preparing positions to fight from should things got worse while others pulled supplies out of the barracks for the upcoming fight. The entire battle line was bristling with anticipation. Johm stepped a few feet over to be by the bugler and the flag bearers, the flags fluttering briskly in the breeze and shining even through the dust that was still rising from the explosion. He looked up and took a deep breath as he watched the banners dance on the wind and he made a prayer to any deity that would listen.

“Forgive me for putting harm on my own people and may I be looked upon in favor when I pass beyond the threshold of the living to the dead” He prayed, then looked down the avenue and mentally prepared himself for task at hand, giving out orders to his troopers.

“PREPARE TO FIRE BY BATTALION!” He shouted to his men.

The entire Battalion shifted as the points of their staff phasers went from shoulder arms up to position.

“READY!”

The staff phasers dropped to a forty-five degree angle.

“AIM!”

The staff phasers dropped down towards the oncoming Freedom Party extremists whilst the troopers gave out a mighty shout that echoed off of the walls of the Forum Humbisteaus.

“THEY DARE DEFY THE HIGH TAR, THE DARE DEFY YOUR PEOPLE, YOUR FAMILIES, YOUR NESTS, AND WE SHALL TEACH THEM THE PRICE OF TREACHERY!” Johm screeched at the top of his lungs, his eyes narrowing like a predator ready to attack.

“ARMERELOS! ARMERELOS! ARMERELOS!” The troopers shouted in unision.

Johm took a deep breath and looked once more at the oncoming Freedom Party attackers. He wondered if his sister was down there. He did not want to be responsible for the deaths of his own people but the threat was clear. He had to act.

“FIRE!”

The sudden and brief whine of the phasers going off in unison was deafening. Echoing off of the walls and buildings and lifting not long after. The wave of staff phaser bolts washed over the ground that lay between the battalion and the attackers. Dozens were burned down while many others were wounded horribly but they still advanced, even with the rebellion’s flag pole snapped it was just picked up and carried forward none the less.

************************************************************************************

Madison rushed forward with her troopers towards the Humbitean District. She could see that the explosion had phased the guard there but now the palace and the Forum at the base of it was teeming like a ants nest now. She could see troops moving around in a frantic hurry. Some running from their posts to the palace to lend aid or from the palace to defend the walls from attack, either way it was chaos. That was until the officer with the scope near the gate got off of the ground. Once he was off of the ground the chaos slowly began to coalesce into something in form of organization. A battle line was forming just inside the gates, the Sword of the Tar’s troopers shields glowing angry blue in front of them as they got into position. She had to get her column to the palace as soon as she could but she was now beginning to wonder if she could make it as fast as she originally thought.

The column of Freedom Party troops were getting closer and closer to the gates, so close that Madison could see the individual defenders in the battle line. It was not until she saw the flag in the line did her heart drop. It was the battalion flag that belonged to the unit that her brother led. Which meant that her brother was the damned officer that had gotten the defenses up and running. A fleeting feeling of pride rose in her throat through although it was replaced with dread as she could barely hear over the sound of the fighting raging across the city the commands her brothers clear voice was shouting. Although she knew it was coming, when she heard the command to fire she was still shocked, probably because it was her brother that had shouted the command. The wave of phaser fire washed over her column, killing dozens, wounded more, snapping the rebellions flag in half but to her joy someone picked it back up. The heat of the phaser fire was stifling but once the volley had passed the column got back up to speed and continued their advance on the palace. She was going to overrun it even if it took the entire day.

The rebellion had struck the entire city. The spaceport was under attack, FLOCKCOMM , the FTI offices, but there was fighting coming from the embassy district as well. There were no attacks planned for there but could there have been spillover into the streets. Could others be pursing their ends? She didn’t know, but she would find out soon.

Augesh 13 2630 SFY,
PCS Most Serene Song,
En Route to Pokos

Singalee peeked around the corner into the room beyond. The room was full of people, all of them were wearing the armband that he had confirmed was the symbol of the rebellion taking place. He already hated the symbol. It was a bastardization of a symbol both very important and noble when it really stood for peoples rights, honor, and respect. That is what it should still stand for. Not for rebellion and the selfish rights without following the proper chain of politics. All told there were seven of the rebels inside of the engine room of which he told in hushed tones to his two rescuers.

“There are seven inside, if we move swiftly we can take control of the ship and get things going. We must be careful of our fire. They are all around the Warp core, any kind of damage to that and it will flood the entire deck with warp plasma and a considerable amount of coolant. I will get to the master situations console, you should try to clear them away from the core” Singalee stated.

He took some time to observer their movements. They all appeared to be busy at consoles around the Warp core attempting to siphon off power and system control from the rest of the ship so they could take control of it just as Singalee wanted. He checked his weapon, a standard hand phaser, noted that he still had plenty of charge and with a satisfied smirk, turned to the Alversians.

“Shall we?” Singalee said with a bit of mirth, he felt much better than he had right before the surpise attack that he had suffered. Probably from adrenaline and nerves but none the less he was in a fighting mood.

With that comment the Flock Marshall dashed around the corner and rushed into the room, grabbing the turned neck of the nearest rebel and pulling him close and discharging the phaser directly into his spine, making him crumple to the ground. That alerted the others to the arrival of the Flock Marshall and his Alversian rescuers and they began to react, rather slowly due to the surprise they now faced. Singalee moved onto the next target, leaving room for the Alversians to do their part. With several more strides he was leaping over the master situations console and talon kicked the rebel there against the bulkhead with considerable force, knocking the rebel unconscious and unable to fight back. Once at the console he began to work frantically over the controls, the first thing being that he sealed the engineering room from the rest of the ship, his encryption codes transferring the command of the ships functions to the console he was working on. He had no idea who to trust and he was not going to take any chances. The massive blast doors to the engineering room came down with a hiss and finally closed just at the Alversians were finishing the last of the rebels.

Singalee began to isolate the environmental controls and then began to work his magic. He couldn’t trust anyone but his two Alversian saviors, so he was going to make sure that every single Pokosian on board would conform to his will regardless if they were loyal or rebel. He also began to pressurize the engine room positively so that it was prepared for what he was about to do. As his ears began to pop from the slightly elevated pressure, he hit the internal communications button and spoke in a clear, yet angry voice.

“To all on board this ship. This is Flock Marshall Singalee. I have full control of this vessel and in five minutes I will be venting all atmospheres. Should you want to live, please report to the shelter zones nearest you as they will be sealing thirty seconds before venting. It is there that you shall remain until trustworthy forces can determine your loyalty”

After his announcement he brought up the sensors and ship reports. There was a small craft off the starboard side that was severly damaged and what looks like the debris of another two craft five hundred thousand meters astern. The ship was very low on warp plasma and based off of the sensors it looks as though the commander of the Most Serene Song had vented the warp plasma and then ignited it with a torpedo, which in turn had destroyed the two ships astern. A brilliant move, but he could not determine if the ship was completely out of danger.

“How long until your ships arrive for assistance. As much as I would love to have a Commonwealth pick up I have a feeling that this is not an isolated incident” Singalee asked.

by **Xiscapia** » Wed Dec 24, 2014 7:14 pm

Augesh 13, 2630 SFY (Y.O.O.R. Emperor Foxfire Rose 27)
Humbistean District of Tranquietel
Royal Palace

Kneeling on the floor next to Armerelos's broken body, Enomoto stared at him as the medic looked the High Tar over. The cries of the wounded mingled with the sound of gunfire somewhere outside and distant shouts, but his ears were low and all he could hear was the pounding of his own heart. He knew, logically, that they'd just been the victims of a bombing, and that the violence outside was no doubt some kind of terrorist attack, but he couldn't seem to make himself do any more than just stare at the still, bleeding form of the Commonwealth's leader. Even if this wasn't the work of the Exiles, he had little doubt that it had something to do with them and their holy war, and that was why his gut clenched as the agonized noises of people dying filtered into his head.
This was his fault.

That was what the attackers would say, anyway. He was to blame for effectively dragging the Commonwealth into its last war, and now, poised to pull it into another conflict, they'd had no choice. How could they be expected to care about what happened an entire galaxy away, to sacrifice their friends and loved ones for the sake of alien people on worlds millions of light years away? If he hadn't been a prime target of the attack, then he knew that his influence had made sure that it happened anyway. This was his responsibility.

Someone fell down next to him and Enomoto finally looked up, tail curling weakly as Lucksee spoke. "I'm fine," he managed to say with a cough, shuddering. "Thanks to him." Seeing his old friend wipe a wing over his face, the kitsune lifted his hands to try to rub some of the blood away from the avian's head, turning his own hands scarlet as the ichor dripped off his fingers. Looking over at the medic as he spoke, the Imperial Ambassador glanced at the main entryway where it lay shrouded by smoke, hopeful for any signs of an emergency response team. He opened his mouth to ask how long it would be when the yell echoed across the hall.

The Foot Guard soldiers stormed in, cutting people down left and right as they shot and stabbed those too dazed to react. Eyes widening, Enomoto plunged a hand into his robes, producing his AXES pistol as the firefight began. With no cover the assailants were being dropped where they stood by the Sword of the Tar, but there was a full squad of them and one still made it close enough to charge at them, sword held high for a killing blow. Raising his weapon, Enomoto steadied it in both hands and took aim just before another blade flashed and his would-be attacker crumpled to the ground, head spinning off in another direction. Inhaling, he let his gun drop, ears folding back against his skull as the loyal guards surrounded them.

“Sirs, this place is no longer secure and as far as I can tell, not only is the High Tar severely injured, but should he pass or become incapable of continiuing his reign, you Ambassador Enomoto, are the last surviving noble of the Royal Flock”

The Xiscapian gaped at him. "That's impossible," he said, climbing to his feet, sidearm still loosely held in one hand. "I'm only sixtieth in line. Even if Armerelos can't do it anymore there has to be someone else. They can't all be dead," he looked out across the hall, but in the ruins with more dead than alive he doubted his own words.

----

Clutching the dogtag in her armored fist, Bolton lifted it and, with careful deliberation, opened a compartment in her armor and dropped it in. The seal engaged and she pocketed Torres's keys to his hovercar, knowing that they might need them to evacuate one or more of the diplomats. "A minute," she said to Cantrell, leaning over Mepou as her scanners focused on the piece of metal jutting out of what had been his remaining organic eye. The Zillar was still alive, but he was clearly in shock and she knew just by looking at him that he wasn't going to be doing any fighting anytime soon. His suit would be administering its own brand of basic first aid, and given that she didn't have time for anything better it would have to do.

Getting her arms around the reptilian alien, she picked him up and carried him to the speeder, ignoring the roar of battle happening at the gate. "Songho," she said to the driver as she dumped Mepou into the passenger seat, "he's hurt. I'm going to get the Ambassador and the others. You have my comm frequency, listen for me if I tell you to get to a certain extraction point. You might be our ride out of this." Despite the fight happening at the gate and the fact that he wasn't military or anything close, the Pokosian just nodded, beak clasped hard. Nodding to him, Bolton grabbed Mepou's carbine and, turning, thrust the heavy gun into Cantrell's arms as she hefted her own shotgun.

"We need to find and evac Enomoto, Lorde and Toal," she said as they ran for the front entrance, weapons leveled. "Standard rules of engagement, if it looks like it's going to shoot you, shoot it first. With Torres down one of you is going to need to be on Lorde -fuck!" she cut herself off as gunfire sounded from inside the building, and abandoning her instructions the Setulanite charged up the front steps. A scene of devastation met her eyes but she ignored the smoldering furnishings and scattered body parts in favor of scanning across those still standing, looking for threats. Finding none, she exhaled as her sensors identified the biosigns of Lorde and Toal.

"Get them out to the car. I'll get the Imperial Ambassador."

Xiscapian Embassy, Tranquietal

Warrant Officer Yemon stood behind the walls of the embassy, listening to the gunfire and called taunts from outside as the rebels tested its defenses. Imperial Marines lined the top around two autocannon nests that occasionally spat flame as they hurtled shells at the enemy positions, but they were potshots as the traitorous Pokosians were keeping their distance. The soldier by the door to the embassy building looked at him expectantly but he just shook his head, not even needing to get on the vox to let him know that they couldn't dispatch their own Maxellian with its response squad to get to the Ambassador. By now they knew the fate that the Setulanite embassy's own Maxi had met, but with the front of the embassy infested with hostile foot mobiles they had no way to get a mine-sweeping team out. There were two squads of Imperial Marines at the embassy, but they didn't have the time or manpower to try to get out there and put down the enemies at the gates.

So they were stuck, and it was making Yemon grind his teeth. The blast doors had closed over the gates and with the kind of firepower they were putting out the only casualty they'd taken was the Corporal who'd had her leg shot out from under her, but that didn't mean anything if the Ambassador was killed, or worse. Whoever they were, the enemy seemed quite content to keep them bottled up. As one of the cannons bellowed again the tod wracked his brains, trying to think of something. Apart from the Ambassador's speeder everything they had was a land vehicle, and there was nothing better armed or armored than the Maxellian. Going it on foot through the hostile city was a no-go, and-

A roar from within the compound made him spin around, shotgun rising. Someone shouted from inside and a huge shape launched itself into the air, enormous wings extending to either side as it lifted away. The flaps were so large that Yemon could feel the air buffeting him, and he watched in amazement as the Great Winged Tyloai wolf rose up with ponderous flaps of her wings, blotting out an entire constellation of stars as she ascended. He let out a wordless yell: the reason they weren't worried about an attack from the air was because the embassy was crossed overhead by a network of thick wires that be electrified with the push of a button, killing anyone who landed on them, but Sif didn't know that. On top of everything else, the Ambassador's pet was about to kill itself!

But Sif didn't give a fuck about the cables. She braced against them, snarling like rumbling thunder, and the wires bent, twanged with stress, and finally snapped as she forced her way up through them. Pumping her wings hard, she pulled herself up through the hole she'd created, briefly silhouetted against the moon above. A shot rang out as some rebel fired at her, and he could see the spray of blood where she was struck, but it might as well have been a mosquito bite for all the mind that Sif paid it. With a howl she soared away, riding a thermal up into the night sky, a huntress the size of a car gliding off towards the Royal Palace.

"Thank you, Sif," Yemon said to himself, struck by inspiration. He contacted the officer on the wall through the neural network.

Sergeant! Do you see any air cars parked out there?

Uh, there's a couple sitting up the street, sir. Why?

Because I'm about to lead my squad to commandeer those vehicles. We're getting to the Ambassador, no matter what. Start laying down suppressive so we can open the blast doors.

Copy that.

by **Setulan** » Wed Dec 31, 2014 8:21 am

Great Hall, Tranquietal

“I’m sorry, your ankles in a really bad way. I can’t move you without damaging it further. We need medical assistance,”

More pale than usual, Lorde still shook her head as she tried to put a brave face on things, propping herself up.

"No no, there are others in worse shape than me. Besides, I've taken far worse skiing." She grimaced as she looked at the rapidly swelling purple mass that was her ankle. "Hell, this one time I got jumped by a tundra wolf - "

"FREEDOM!"

"Shit!"

Toal shoved the wounded Setulan down and lay across her, no doubt saving her life as phaser rounds screamed overhead from the traitorous troopers. As the loyal guards cut down the traitors the Setulan did her best to not black out from the pain.

"Ok...ok, this is getting distinctly unhealthy. I have had better parties." She looked up as the trio of bodyguards slammed their way into the room and frowned, clearly worried. "Where...where the hell is Torres?" Her tone said she knew the answer, but her imploring look towards Bolton and Cantrell retained some hope.

by **Alversia** » Fri Jan 02, 2015 11:30 am

Royal Palace

Toal had to admire the tenacity of the Setulanite Ambassadress as she fought hard to keep herself from showing just how painful her injury was. The Alversian woman was still looking around desperately for some sort of medical assistance for her opposite number but there were few medics who had made it into the remains of the hall and they had far greater priorities amongst their own kind. There were many whose injuries would remain clinging to her dreams for as long as she lived and their tormented howls would anchor in her brain and never leave. The floor around her was littered with fragments of wealth that had suffered as much as their wearers. There were jewels and gems that were cracked and broken while bits of fine cloth and silk smouldered and curled at the corners. She looked down at the woman, smiling as she began to recall a story from her times skiing. She tried to keep her eyes on Vanessa and not to look to either side at the broken bodies who lay nearby.

She heard the battle cry at the same time as everyone else and, on instinct, she threw herself atop the Setulanite as the sounds of gunfire reached her ears, whistling overhead. She heard the shots ping off the remaining walls and the cries of pain as they hit civilian and foe alike. In seconds it was over, the Sword of the Tar moving out with weapons up and steady towards the smoking remains of their attackers. She was breathing hard, mouth dry and throating aching as cold, smoky air filled her lungs. She looked down at the Setulanite again to see if she was okay and immediately, her pulse sped up a few more beats when she saw how pale the woman had become and how weak her voice had become,
“Try not to speak, rest yourself.” Toal put a comforting hand on her shoulder. She was surprised to find that her hand was shaking, because she could not see a reason why she would be trembling.

“FREEDOM!”

The Blonde’s head snapped up as she saw another two dozen more Foot Guards stormed into the room. Normally she would have been overjoyed to see the troops enter the building but now all she felt was a cold dread that was founded as the two groups opened fire on one another. A few Swords were cut down immediately by the volume of gunfire but the rest returned the favour and the halls echoed to the sound of battle.

“FREEDOM!”

The yell was accompanied by a volley of shots as the two Swords closest to the Ambassadresses were thrown back by phaser fire. Another dozen Foot Guards were flooding out of a side room on the other side the building, determined to flank what was left of the High Tar’s bodyguards. Toal looked around desperately for a weapon nearby, anything that would help. She could see two Foot Guards coming towards them, phaser staffs raised at the two prone diplomats.

Suddenly, they were thrown back with frightened yells to smack hard against the wall behind them with a sickening thud. The Foot Guards stopped abruptly as another two of their number were crushed against the wall, turning their heads towards the new threat. Toal spun as well, looking for their saviour. Ceyrn stood nearby, eyes narrowed as he raised his hand. The remaining Foot Guards tried to fire but all the Veela had to do was flick his wrist. The Pokosians twitched once and fell to the ground, eyes suddenly dull and lifeless their guns clattering away.

Ceyrn was beside her in a moment, almost humming as Toal’s hair stood on end,
“Ambassadress,” he said in his soft voice to Vanessa, reaching out with a hand to caress her cheek, passing a warmth to her that was like passing into a warm bath, “I can dull the pain. You will be okay.”

Quigley and Cantrell were taking the steps two at a time, the sounds of gunfire ringing in their ears and beating brutally against their hearts. Every shot felt like it was going through the head of their Ambassadress, the woman they had been assigned to protect. Cantrell was holding the powerful carbine of the Xiscapian Diplomatic service, carrying it with ease as he swept into the remains of the Great Hall. Their first, vivid images were quickly swept to the back of their minds as the Swords of the Tar finished off the last remnants of the second wave. Immediately, the two Alversians and the remaining Setulanite rushed over to Toal and Lorde.

“Ambassadresses, are you hurt?” Cantrell asked while Quigley swept the area. He quickly saw the ruin that was the Setulanite’s ankle and frowned, pressing his communicator, “Bolton, Ambassadress Lorde is badly injured. She needs immediate evac.” As soon as he had finished, he switched channels, “Tranquietal Control, this is Commander Cantrell, I need an emergency evac at the Royal Palace immediately.”

PCS Most Serene Song

By the time that the Flock Marshall had killed the single person closest to him, the two Black Falcons had laid low everyone else in Engineering. It was easy as they turned the corner, pistols raised. They immediately clocked three rebels each, communicating to one another through their implants as they picked out their targets and raised their weapons. It only took three shots each, three squeezes of the trigger apiece. They banked on the surprise of the rebels, who were still attempting to turn as the shots hit them. Three perfect hits and the room was devoid of anyone but the three of them; Singalee and the two Falcons.

They checked the bodies, making sure that they were down before moving to the door while the Flock Marshall made his announcement over the speaker system of the ship. They had memorised every entrance and exist to this vessel and they made sure to always keep them all locked down, ensuring none of the crew would attempt to sneak up behind or around them.

As soon as the Pokosian asked his question, there was a reply, a female voice that came in over the console which was now the sole point of control for the entire vessel,
“Pokosian vessel Most Serene Song, this is Captain Andros of the Alversian People’s Starship Belleview. We have you targeted. You will cut power to weapons, engines and shields and prepare to receive bordering parties. If you do not comply with all demands, we will open fire.”

Kingmaker ATTN: AXIS (CLOSED)

Kingmaker ATTN: AXIS (CLOSED)

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