Yukonic Nebula (UCON MEMBERS ONLY)

[Croxoco]

FOR MEMBERS OF THE UNIFIED COALITION OF NATIONS ONLY

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Region| Forums| Statistics Rules| Star Registry| Registry of Nations|
Nation Creation

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The Yukonic Nebula, a vast expanse of space, is home to all manner of civilization; human and non human. Originally, all of the stars in the nebula were united under the Yukonic Empire, centred upon the planet of Yukon, in the Exodus System. The Empire was non a single realm in the conventional sense; it was a body which presided over and regulated the actions of the several Sovereign Entities within the Yukonic Nebula. 300 Years before the events of the RP, a civil war (the causes of which have long been lost to history) broke out between different factions of the empire, before Yukon itself was destroyed and the empire collapsed, leaving the nebula in anarchy; now, at the start of the RP, the Yukon Proclamation, signed on the ruins of Yukon, has united half of the nebula under the direction of the Council of Nations, an organization responsible for regulating the conduct of international relations and war between its member states, which has ushered in a new era of security. The other half of the nebula however, remains outside of citadel influence, and is a much more bellicose region of space. Now, as the Yukon Proclaimation has been signed, the sovereign states of the Yukonic Nebula are ready to pursue their own futures...

[46566]

With the recent expansion of the trade routes within the Grand Duchy and the nearly completed expansion of both the Agricultural and Production sectors within the Galactic Duchy have reached a point in which the Duchy has started producing more then what it could have ever used within it's borders. Normally internal wasting of the resources produced was a problem do to the inadequate infrastructure and clearing of internal trade routes of debris and other obstacles hurting the internal trade of the Midgari Economy. With the recent clearing of the majority of the obstacles internally being cleared up after the rapid expansion of the Grand Duchy. With it's house in order and both Production and Agriculture booming and working near capacity the Duchy has begun looking outside of it's territory to formalize trading rights and to keep it's economy growing. With it's economic might the Grand Duchy can hold sway as the Dominate power in Sector 5.

[Valariel]

The Imperial Seal appears on all active media devices throughout all UIDV systems, accompanied by the Imperial Anthem. A mandatory viewing broadcast by the UIDV News Network. From the humblest of Watering Holes, to the most exquisite of Aristocratic Halls. Following a short playing of a more serne version of the Anthem, the Seal fades from screens and Holographic projections, replaced by video images of marching soldiers, cheering crowds, and all manner of Patriotic symbolism.

"Foundation Day," says a Females voice enthusiastically," this year marks the fifteen-hundredth anniversary of the foundation of our most glorious state by the Founders, who fifteen-hundred years ago happened upon our homeworld, and there created a New Paradise for future generations to come."

The image then zooms out to show a middle-aged woman with dark, hair put up into a bun and here eyes a piercing silver in business attire and a gleaming smile on her face.

"Imperial Administration has promised to make this year's celebration the greatest since our first millennium mark. Preparations have already begun, with Administration preparing several major events, including a parade of Imperial Military Forces in the capital city of New Valariel. People across the Systems have even begun preparations of their own, in hopes of showing their patriotism towards our most beloved celebration, even as dissident movements move in the shadows among us."

Images then switch to firefights between Imperial Enforcers and dissidents, as well as arrests.

"Despite their futile efforts, the UISC Enforcer Corps has made great strides in weeding out these terrorist elements, and have guaranteed that celebration events will continued as planned. Our hearts and prayers go to our honorable Enforcers as they protect us from those who would lead us astray. To lead the celebration on New Valariel will be the first deployment of a new Ascension-Class Supercarrier..."

In a humble watering hole in the Imperial Capital city, New Senice, the Media System is switched to another channel, a man given a disgusted snort.

"Can you believe that nonsense," he said, taking a swig of his liquor," they make it sound like the Enforcers are noble. And they put too much attention into that 'Foundation Day' nonsense. Worthless if you tell me."
"If it makes you feel better," said another man," the Nasuans sure put up a good fight. Perhaps things may change for the better."
"The Nasuans? Please. Religious zealots the lot of 'em. Even if they are teaching the UISC a lesson, it is not like it will amount to anything."
"Hey, show some respect," said another," they at least bother to stand up for what they believe. I would join them if I could."
"Oi," yelled the Bar Tender," I don't want that talk in here. This is a respectable establishment."
"What are you going to do," says the first man," Tell the Enforcers? Bah!" He flicks a cigarette at the Bar Tender, who dodges it, and then storms outside in frustration.

"Maybe he is right though," said one man," these dissident groups have done some rather questionable acts. Did you hear about that bomb at that clinic on New Sarilion? Nasty stuff. Over a hundred dead."
"Oh please. These Imperialists are getting exactly what is coming to them..."

Just as the man finished saying that, the windows of the Bar shattered as smoking devices came crashing into the establishment, quickly filling the bar's main room with a thick smoke.

"Agh... *cough**cough*... What the he-" A bolt of blue energy speed through the smoke, and struck one man down as arcs of the same blue energy jumped across his body, and he collapsed down on the ground, twitching violently. More bolts came, and more men fell until everyone was on the ground.

The smoke cleared, and all that could be seen were knocked over table, chairs, and unconscious patrons. Three white armored individuals entered the Bar, with weapons drawn and aimed forward. They stopped in the middle of the bar and began to handcuff each of the men. When that was finally done, the Captain of the soldiers contacted Enforcer Command.

"All Dissident elements eliminated. Ready for retrieval and cleanup."
"Copy that Captain. Cleanup crews inbound."
"Roger Command. See you all later."

The Captain went to leave, but noticed the changed channel on the Media System. He took up a Holopad that lay on the floor, and put in a command to change the channel back to the previous program. The three soldiers then left.

"... And we give thanks to the High Council and the UISC for showing us on the path of Peace, and Security. Elders go with you, and good night."

[Croxoco]

Tyrant's Fall, Seat of the Croxian Senate:

Election day had come and went, and the Tories were now in opposition; Instead, Androgar Bellamont, leader of the Whigs, had been sworn in as Lord President of the Republic. The election had given his party a comfortable majority of 48 seats in the Croxian Senate. He was still reliving the moment; when the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court announced the final result of the general election:

"I, Rassillon Harrowstorm, Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of the Republic, in my capacity as returning officer-in-chief of the Republic, hereby give notice that the total percentage of votes given for each party, and the consequent number of seats they have recieved, are as follows:
- The Radicals: Twelve per cent of the vote, carrying twelve seats;
- The Whigs: Forty-Six per cent of the vote, carrying two-hundred and forty-two seats;
- The Tories: Forty-Two per cent of the vote, carrying one-hundred and ninety-six seats;
And that the Whigs, with a majority of thirty-four seats, have been duly elected as the governing party of the Republic."

Now his inauguration was over, and the Senate was now in session, Lord President Bellamont could now begin his legislative programme:
- Government Expenditure was to be rolled back from 40% of GDP to 20% of GDP within the year, with cuts to military expenditure, law/order funding, and business subsidization, and rises in education, healthcare and welfare expenditure.
- The policy of isolation from the affairs of the Yukonic Nebula, was to be ended, upon the immediate ratification of the Yukon Proclaimation and the entry of the Republic into the Council of Nations.
- The creation of a bilateral trading and investment partnership with the Grand Duchy of Midgar and its rapidly growing markets.
- The creation of bilateral non-aggression pacts with the Grand Duchy of Midgar, the Fregata Federation and the United Imperial Dominion of Valariel.
- The reorganization of the Croxian Star Fleet, into a more cost effective military which suits the needs of the Republic within the current international climate; with the break-up and sell-off of redundant Star Fleet assets and their replacement with more efficient vessels.
- The decentralization of governance over the colonies; vesting more powers in the autonomous governments of the colonies and relinquishing the power of Republic-appointed Governors of the Colonies to summon, prorogue and dissolve the legislatures of the colonies, to issue decrees and to levy taxation without the consent of the colonial legislatures.

This was going to be a busy year for the new government; but at last, the Croxian Republic could finally progress after 20 stagnant years of Tory rule.

[The Landfish Colonies]

Iron Factory
Volk System
Fregata Federation

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Iron Factory, the Capital City of the Fregata Federation on the planet of Hephaestus, was very deserving of it's name. The city had been built from the mining colony of the same name, established by Jameson and Issac Volk those many years ago. Now, it was home to 2.5 million people, most of whom worked in the mines that still operated in and around the city. Hephaestus was rich with resources, gold and silver, uranium and plutonium, of course Iron and many many other valuables.

It was world like this the Volk brothers sought during their early days, planet hunting throughout the sector. Worlds with an abundance of rare earth elements which the Fregata Corporation could put on market. Hephaestus, at first glance, seemed almost picturesque. Large mountains towered over Iron Factory as they slowly rolled into soft and sandy dunes. However, step outside and an individual would be struck by the sweltering heat from the planet's super massive star. During 'Winter' the outside would be a tolerable 25 degrees Celsius, but at the moment, summer was in full effect, and it was for this reason that Jameson Volk decided to spend this day indoors.

He was nearing 20 years since he'd landed on Hephaestus, and while his age was beginning to catch up on him, he still possessed his old presence. Heavily built, with dark features and a thick black beard, we stared out the window of his villa, having blocked out the endless drone of Clarke O'Malley who was blabbering on about something or another. When it became apparent that O'Malley had stopped talking, Volk looked back at him over his shoulder.

"I'm sorry?" Volk asked in a deep, accented voice.

"I said we're up three points. The board's impressed." Mr. O'Malley, the young Fregata company man had been assigned to watch over the Volk's a year or two ago, and neither could stand him. He walked to stand next to Jameson, wearing a perfectly tailored suit from Migdar and carrying an heir of royalty and ignorance. He looked out of the Villa at a large processing plant just across a lake and over the dunes. "Mr. Prentiss is going to want to see you soon."

"Yeah, I guess he is." If there was one person he dreaded seeing more than O'Malley, it was the Fregata CEO Connor Prentiss, "Tell him I'll see him as soon as I can, but I'm a bit busy as it is."

"Yes, I suppose you are. But I trust Issac had the situation under control. Tell me, where is he now?"

"Insurgents just struck Demeter, so he's leading his militia into the Silk Road. He'll be there for the next month."

"And you'll be joining him?"

"Nah..." Jameson shook his head, "I gotta hold down the fort here. Quota's gotta be met, yeah."

"Of course. Well, the Board will be wanting a report on the status of Issac's Militia by the end of the week. That won't be to much, I hope." He said it in a way that said it absolutely wouldn't be to much, "I will be staying for the next five days to monitor production, so I will be seeing you again soon. Until then Jameson." O'Malley walked out, hesitating before rushing outside.

[Vvarden]

At long last, the sandstorm had settled, and visibility went beyond a mere few feet, even in the light of day. The rare dark clouds still loomed overhead, and the sandy ground was still as drab a yellow unlike the red scattered cylindrical rocks that rose up from the sand and smoothed out at their top. The petrified and fossilised trees rising among the rocks were but a shadow of their former glory, nature having been worn down by nature, a sign of the past, before the planet dried up. The Sun Temple’s official was simply happy that the sandstorm was over, so that he could finally make the trip towards the Sandfolk tribe that was currently under watch by a large team of Inquisitors. Most of the Sandfolk were cooperating - if with great grumbling - but due to their intense hostility against the Temple and her forces, no chance was being taken.

The official, a Sun-Drenched Man of average height with dark skin and elaborate robes on his body and pursed lips on his face, stepped out of the hut he had confiscated from one Sandfolk family, brushing some sand that had tumbled down onto it from the flap above him. Escorted by two Inquisitors, he made his way across the landscape, to a larger number of huts in an open clearing. There were several Inquisitors, easily recognizable by their ordinate, golden armour, scattered around the perimeter of the village, with several more among the huts themselves. They nodded and saluted towards the official, who paid them absolutely no mind nor bothered to acknowledge their show of respect. Rather, his pale blue eyes seemed locked upon a single hut, at the far end of the nomad village, resting with its door facing directly at him. It was as if providence itself had made everything perfectly convenient.

An Inquisitor opened up the flap, and the officer stepped in. Immediately he saw a Sandman, stripped of his outer garments, hanging by rope tied to the poles of the hut. A Temple flameshaper stood nearby, palm open and a small ball of fire burning softly a few inches from his hand, with soft flames spiralling about his arm and wrist but not seeming to burn his flesh. The miracles of technology. It wasn’t hard to figure out what the flameshaper was there for: several dark red marks could be seen along the Sandman’s torso, with patches of skin shrivelling and darkening further, as if rotting. The Sandman was heaving and gasping, sweat going down his dark brown body with his pale blue eyes rolled into the back of his head.

The Temple official grinned, saying in a low voice, “Has the heretic recanted?”

The flameshaper nodded, grinning back, “The heretic has recanted.”

The Temple official sniffed once, as if in derision, as he approached the dangling Sandman. With his hands behind his back and a blank expression on his face, the official pursed his lips a bit more, tilting his head as if to examine the Sandman like a scientific specimen. The Sandman adjusted his blue eyes, staring at the Temple official head on, though still breathing heavily.

“I assumed you weren’t the Eionkouda,” the official said matter-of-factly, grinning even more broadly than he had before, “Just like all of those who came before you. All you were was a blasphemous fraud.”

The Sandman laughed a bit, coughing afterward and wincing as he felt the pain from his abdomen, blood starting to pour through the wounds that the flameshaper’s fire had created. He said in a scratching, low voice.

“I am not...but the Eionkouda will come...and when he does, he shall speak the Law for the Sandfolk people, he shall speak for their land, and he shall name them great.”

The official replied, “Our people are already great, thanks to the power and guidance of the Eternal God-Emperor.” at this, he raised his hands and looked up to the sky, and as if on cue the Inquisitors and flameshaper joined him. “Blessed be his name.”

The Sandman only laughed again. “No...the Eionkouda shall free us from the cursed false gods. He shall bind the broken and redeem the mad...You worship a mock being - a perishable mockery of that which cannot be destroyed. But some day, because you worship that which is mortal, the judgment of Eion shall come upon you, and your so-called gods shall all be obliterated…”

As the Sandman was speaking, the official was listening quietly. When the tortured man had finished, the official raised his hand and said, “I see...well, since you see fit to challenge our gods, let us show you that the Temple truly has power over life and death.”

He dropped his hand and turned, and, as if on cue, the mage flicked both his hands. In an instance, flame shot from the flameshaper’s palms, and engulfed the Sandman in a hot blaze. With screams and cries of great agony filling the tent, the hanging, writhing body twisted this way and that, flames rising up along the ropes, blackening his body more and more inside the fire. The Sandman was trying desperately to get away from the hot flames consuming his body, eating through the flesh, and eating away into the bone, but there was no escape.

The official had by now stepped out of the tent. Some of the screams could still be heard but having quickly begun to die down into slow death gurgles, no doubt because the Sandman’s heart had just ruptured. An Inquisitor stepped forward and asked the Temple official.

“What shall we do with the camp, sir?”

“This is one of the lesser Sandfolk tribes, isn’t it?” the official asked. When the Inquisitor nodded, the officer said “Well then, send them to the Dark Cold. Let them rest with their precious Old Gods.”

It was all over in a matter of minutes. The Inquisitors, men well trained in the art of war, were more than a match for the unarmed men, women and children. Bodies were piled under the huts, with the Temple flameshaper going through and setting fire to each structure. By nightfall, the smoke was still rising high, but the Inquisitors had long gone, and there was gradually less and less of a trace of what had formerly been a small Sandfolk tribe. Only a few nearby knew what had happened, but they knew that it was something not entirely unique to the planet, another individual had appeared claiming to be the reincarnation of Eion’s champion, and, like all the others, he had been proven false by the forces of the Sun Temple, and all possibility of a Eionkouda threat promptly eliminated.

[Croxoco]

Tyrant's Fall, Croxia Prime, Croxian System;
The Croxian System was home to a binary star system, comprised of two suns; Croxia Major and Croxia Minor. Croxia Minor was known as the first sun; for it was over 1 billion years older than the second, and was a red dwarf. Croxia Major was a G-Type Main Sequence star; When the first sun rose in the dawn, it's red light would bathe the sky in burnt orange, before being drowned out by the light of the second sun; which turned the sky blue. At sunrise, the golden leaves of the Croxian Forests would catch the sunlight, making the entire horizon glow with a gold hue, before turning emerald green with the rising of the second sun. The day was warm, with a cool breeze blowing from the south, hardly any clouds in the sky save for those lingering atop the snow-capped mountains in the South East. Unfortunately for Kate and Dana, this was not a day to relax, as important work had to be done. Katrina (Kate) and Dana were sisters, daughters of Chief Justice Rassillon, and members of the politically powerful Harrowstorm Family. In many ways, Kate and Dana had the same job; both were the Chief Executive Officers of large intelligence, security and special operations organizations. There was however one key difference: Kate was the Chief of the Joint Intelligence Command (JIC), from which the Intelligence, Security and Special Operations Services of the Croxian Republic were commanded, while Dana was the Chief of the Interstellar Contract Agency (ICA) an underground conglomerate of private intelligence, security, and assassination services under the control of the Harrowstorm Family. One served the State, and was a public face of House Harrowstorm; the other served the Family, and was the underground presence of House Harrowstorm.

-----

Now that Lord President Androgar Bellamont had initiated reforms of the Republican Star Fleet, Kate had much work to do, from overseeing the renovation of the Star Fleet to conducting counter-espionage and counter-terrorism against those working against the Republic, to gathering intelligence on foreign nations and the potential risks they pose to Croxian prosperity. Kate had 3 main objectives for the next year in her place as Chief of JIC:
- Reconstruction and Renovation of Starfleet
- Securing the Republic against threats posed by residual imperialist elements
- Conducting surveillance on Valariel and the Sun-Drenched Empire (it had long been Croxian foreign policy to be distrustful of authoritarian regimes)
Kate thus started her working day, beginning with briefing the Lord President on the latest intelligence reports.

-----

Dana's day was also packed, though with more... shady activities; as well as directing the largest syndicate of crime within Republic space, she personally handled the most valuable of the Agency's assets, codenamed:
- The Viceroy
- The Hitman
- The Detective
- The Captain

The Viceroy was responsible for keeping the governments of the colonies in line with the needs and desires of the Agency, ensuring that no cartel or syndicate could supplant the Agency as the dominant underground force in the Republic. The viceroy was an excellent player in the game of politics, and had come to be relied upon by the Croxian Senate itself; to this effect, the Viceroy was nothing short of the de facto ruler of every Republic territory outside of the Croxian System.

The Hitman was invaluable both to the Agency and to House Harrowstorm itself; A professional assassin, the Hitman is one of the most feared killers in the Nebula, his exploits being legendary from all corners of Council Space. The Hitman is single-handedly responsible for over 200 political assassinations, which have all benefited the Republic and/or House Harrowstorm.

The Detective was the chief investigator of the Agency, venturing into the most dangerous places in the nebula to gather intelligence valuable to the Republic and to the Harrowstorm Family. If there was ever a crippling case of espionage, whether against an underground organization or a foreign state, it can reasonably be assumed that the Detective was undoubtedly behind it.

The Captain was the most illusive out of all the agency assets; dealing with non-conventional threats to the Republic, and to Nebula Society as a whole, such as hostile alien life, interstellar terrorist organizations and violations of the Yukon Proclamation. The Captain is revered amongst the stars for the countless millions of people he has saved from harm. It is also rumoured that the Captain also serves as a scientific advisor for the Croxian Government, leading scientific research projects and expeditions on behalf of the Science branch of the JIC. Due to the wide scope of the Captain's field of expertise, the Captain often aids in the missions contracted out to the Viceroy, Hitman and Detective.

All four assets were top secret; only the deepest, most underground organizations could lend credence to the existence of these assets, with neither the Croxian State or the Agency confirming nor denying their existence; They would all play substantial roles in a chain of events which was to completely change the face of the Republic for ever.

[46566]

Communique to The Croxian Star Republic and The Fregata Federation
The Grand Duchy of Midgar will formally like to open a route to peace between our three nations. We would also like to form a organization that would seek to protect each of our trading interests and mutual protection of space controlled by our states and trade routes outside our Galactic borders.The organization will seek to promote free trade between each of countries, help to make sure trade is fair between each member nation and mutual help in patrolling the trade lanes not set within our borders. The organization proposed will also hope to develop mutual markets in nations outside of the organization to help each nation and not allow each member nation to under cut the other. While no formal treaty has been developed yet, the Grand Duchy seeks to talk with each of you to develop a treaty and organization that would be fair to each member to fit their needs or at least the majority of them.

signed,
Arnoald Cranston
Grand Duke of Midgar.

[Vvarden]

The city of Hedareb lay on a green coastal plain, bordered to the east by a massive landlocked sea, the only remnant of a once huge ocean. The golden domes atop the white spires of ornate towers glistened as the bright sunlight was reflected. At the beach, there was little playing in the sand, rather there were huge desalinisation plants, and almost every tower had either solar panels or vertically growing plants on the exterior. Everything was to be recycled. Houses would be demolished and replaced every few generations. Roads replaced every decade. When people died, all the water was extracted from their body, so none of it goes to waste. This was a planet of extremes. One massive spire, almost like a large pyramid, reaching up to the sun lay in the centre of the city, flanked by lush gardens and small canals. This was the palace of the God-Emperors, and the heart of the Sun-Drenched Empire.

God-Emperor Alemayehu III was, by all accounts, an average ruler, he did not abuse his power and yet he ruled as he saw fit, rather than according to any code of ethics or morality, at least by the Sun-Drenched Men’s standards of absolute tyranny, as other planets would complain of the oppressive government. But what they didn’t know was that strictness kept the government imploding on itself, kept it from using too many resources, kept its people alive. Still, life was strict and somewhat, as it always was. He was fairly well known for his love of money, so much so that some courtiers privately joked that the scales in the House’s crest were representing how much gold Alemayehu had in his coffers versus how much he secretly desired, and though the Emperor knew of these jokes, he tolerated them, by not sentencing those who voiced them to a death by Sun.

A meeting was being held in the Emperor’s court, one of many during his rule, to discuss the affairs of the house. There was some concern about the next Emperor after Alemayehu, as many of the nobles in the house were beginning to support Alemayehu’s kinsman, Dessalegne of Padani. Dessalegne was of Alemayehu’s blood through another line that had separated long ago, and was currently Governor of the planet in the Chitundu system for which he was known.

“There is little faith in your son, if you will forgive the bluntness, my most holy Emperor,” said Mebreatu, Alemayehu’s chancellor, the only man Alemayehu saw to be more wiser than him, and the only one he tolerated when he was blunt. “Dessalegne is known as a mighty warrior, and capable in battle, while your son Evos is…well, mundane.”

Alemayehu nodded, though he did not change his facial expression, nor did he shift his body. He did, however, calmly reply.

“Is there any immediate threat to our realm’s stability?”

“Well, no...I suppose not.”

Now, Alemayehu sat up straight, placing both hands on his lap, “Then I shall not worry about it for now. Our Empire has dealt with worse matters before. What of the treasury?”

“A modest income, my Holy One.” Said Fsiha, Alemayehu’s grand steward and High Governor of the Olabode system “Not as much as the Zekulu, I am afraid.”

“That is only because the Zekulu are utilizing their neighbors.” Alemayehu said with a hint of sarcasm. The House of Zekulu, a Sun-Drenched vassal situated on one of the outer systems was well known for their corruption and willingness to make a few extra coins...even if it meant taking part in the slave trade. They even got their titles and a great degree of autonomy by bribing the previous Emperors. Phosine and Nisine innocents were their common targets, and with the Zekulu demesne resting on Nisine borders, there was an endless supply. For now, however, Alemayehu did not want to bother with them, they were far away, on the other side of the realm, and they were of no concern to the Emperor. Instead, he put his mind to other things.

“Tell me again why we’re abandoning our outermost colony along with the people on it?” Alemayehu turned back toward Mebreatu.

“Yes, my Excellence, we are abandoning our colony in the outer planets of the Anto system since they cannot be self-sufficient, they are a drain on our resources, water especially.” Mebreatu spoke frankly in his deep and rough voice. He was a good man, and served Alemayehu’s father well.

“But why wouldn’t you get water from the ice covering the twin planets in the Taji System?” Alemayehu asked curiously. He’d never really knew where his water came from, apart from most of it being from the Taji Snowplanets.

“We do, we do, but, my Excellence, our processes are slow and we need time to research ways to make the harvesting more efficient.”

This came as rather a shock to Alemayehu. He’d always been assured that water was harvested in quick easy ways, ways that allowed even the poor to go to local markets to buy bags of ice to cool their home. But apparently it was not so.

“Well, get the top minds in the Empire to find a quicker way, and make sure they do it as quickly as possible. We do not want a shortage of water so soon after a surplus. That would mean discontent. Perhaps unrest. Get the High Priest of the Sun Temple to continue cracking down on the Sandfolk, but remind him to get less villages to be burnt down this time.”

Then the God-Emperor raised a hand, and the advisors left the sight of Alemayehu. The Emperor sighed, feeling the crown upon his head weigh heavier than usual. He stepped off his massive wooden throne and walked towards the nearest balcony to look over upon his people. It was nearing dusk, with the three moons sinking towards the horizon, casting the city in a golden light. Alemayehu unwrapped the red, velvet cloth and examined his left hand again. The burns were no longer painful, and the flesh was still scarred, but he could use his hand. That was good. When every God-Emperor ascended to the throne, they had to prove their strength by placing their hand under a huge series of circular glasses attached to the ceiling that harnessed the sun’s rays, like a magnifying glass. They had to not scream as the flesh burnt, and they would show the scars to prove to the people their strength. There were simular methods of execution, all involving heat, from steaming, to being tied up in the desert and left there, to as mentioned above, a massive magnifying glass.

The Sun-Drenched Empire ran on faith, and strict tyranny kept the people praying.

[Croxoco]

Vitelli IV; Vitellian System:

Vitelli IV was a peaceful world under the Croxian Repbulic, having been a Croxian Colony for 200 Years. Vitelli IV was a green world; covered by vast grassy plains, forested valleys and, towards the equator, deep tropical jungles. The Vitellians had learned to coexist peacefully with the eco system, through efficient use, recycling and reusage of everything from food and water, to energy, machinery and the people themselves. On the northern continent of Austrasia, overlooking the valleys of Elysium, stood the city of Arcadia, one of several cities across the Nebula named in honour of an ancient ally of the Croxian Star Empire. A sprawling settlement of light beige towers and emerald greeen domes, Arcadia was home to 3 million people, and was the ancestral fief of the Harrowstorm Family, the staunchest defenders of the Republic. As such, the Interstellar Contract Agency had a strong presence here; as did its most important operatives. The Captain often returned here, considering Arcadia to be his true home, and Croxia Prime to be his 'home from home'. Like most of the Captain's missions, this mission started with the agency contacting him in his private chambers...

"Captain! This is Dana here. The Agency has an urgent contract for you. An agency asset, codenamed 'The Hitman' was recently untilized in the contract assassination of several imperialist operatives threatening to bring down the rule of House Harrowstorm in the Vitelli System. While successful, the Hitman obtained concerning intelligence from one of the operatives, regarding the development of a Bio-chemical weapon of mass destruction. Our other asset, codenamed 'The Detective' is however busy with another operation, outside of Croxian Space, this assignment therefore falls to you, Captain." The Chief of the ICA was a close contact of the Captain, and it was often the Captain that she came to with contracts of vital importance to the agency.

"Roger that Dana. What do I have to do?" Replied the Captain. "This contract will consist of three objectives Captain. First, you are to extract the Hitman from Vitelli III, but you must me discreet; If too much attention is drawn to Agency presence in the Vitelli System, the Agency may have to hand over control of this mission to the JIC, which would scandalize House Harrowstorm. Second, you are to debrief the Hitman fully, then equip him with what he requires for his next contract." continued Dana. "What's his next contract?" interrupted the Captain. "That is classified at the moment, sorry Captain." replied Dana. "A shame. Nevermind, where am I dropping him?" said the Captain, once again paying attention to his own contract. "You will be dropping him at the Agency Outpost in the Hadrian System. Thirdly, once you have dropped the Hitman off, we need you to return to Agency Headquarters and give us the Intelligence. The contract will pay two million Pounds, in gold, into your off-world account, upon cmpletion of these objectives. Do you accept?" continued Dana. "Yes. I'll leave right away." concluded the Captain, before leaving his chambers for his ship.

--24 Hours Later--

The intelligence was alarming to say the least. A syndicate of imperialist fanatics had obtained some Croxium; an incredibly rare element only found in Coronial Mass Ejections emitted by Croxia Major, the second sun of the Croxian System. The fanatics planned to use the Croxium as a catalyst in the creation of a Bio-Chemical agent named 'Sunspire'. Reports from across the Croxian Star Republic suggest that 'Sunspire' could be a weapon of mass destruction, but there was no solid evidence. The Agency now had to heighten its operations, but could only do so by working with the JIC; handy then, that the chief of the ICA, Dana Harrowstorm, was the sister of the chief at JIC, Katrina Harrowstorm. Meanwhile, the Captain flew away in his ship to his next assignment, outside of Croxian Space.

[Valariel]

Imperial High Council Building

The High Council Building itself was an exquisite example of Valarielan engineering. Tall. White Sided. Multitiered. At regular intervals decorated with statues of the Founders. A symbol to the progress and resolve of the Valarielan people.

The Chambers of High Council itself however, was a contrast to the White exterior. The Chambers were decorated in a black stone, and was very angular in its general design, although having some rounded shapes in the form of pillars that surrounded the central area of the CHambers, where the High Council’s table resided, and around it were the High Councilors themselves.

"If I am sure of one thing, Councilor Balet," began High Chancellor Tieres sternly," it is that this government will not survive if it becomes subservient to the feelings of those who support wanton aggression against the common citizens of our nation. So no Councilor, seeking to appease these traitors, terrorists, and dissidents, will not be an action that this government, nor command of the UISC, will pursue."
"But High Chancellor," began Councilor Balet defiantly," this conflict has gone on long enough. We must pursue peace if we are to keep our Empire United. Day by day, the Nasuans gain ground on their planet. The Separatists continue to make their attacks and expand their territories. This has gon-"
"Enough Councilor," yelled the High Chancellor standing from his seat," if there is one thing that I am willing to pursue, it is the complete or partial destruction of the seded territories on that planet, and the complete eradication of these Nasuan Separatists. In fact, I have already been in discussion with UISC HIGHCOMM, and we have already decided to immediately engage in operations to root out and destroy these terrorists. There will be no more discussion of the subject."
“Yes… High Chancellor…”
“Now I want progress on this government’s other endeavors. Councilor Sylari?” A woman with graying hair stood.”
“Progress on the Legion project is experiencing some problems… especially with its Project Lead. Dr-”
“I am well aware of who he is. What is wrong with him?”
“Well sir, he is displeased with the intended use of Legion, and in fact would rather devote the Project to more scientific endeavors, instead of military.”
“Unacceptable. Tell him to continue with the assigned task, or he may well find himself another job.”
“Yes Chancellor.”
“Councilor Tellis?”
‘We are doing our best to devote resources to foreign relations development. So far, our progress has been promising. You will of course be updated regularly.”
“Good. Anyhow Councilor’s I must leave you. I have very pressing matters to attend to. Elders go with you. Valariel Prevails.”
“Valariel Prevails.”

The High Chancellor got up from his seat and walked forward into the table, slowly dissolving into blue light, going out of range of the Holographic Transmitter on his end.

Orbit above planet New Nasua, Supercarrier Maithis

The planet below, when seen through the holographic screen of the Supercarrier’s command deck, appeared as a great Tan and Green ball, its deserts and jungles the dominant features of the planet.

"Nasuan Separatist camp located located sir," said the Chief Tactical Officer on the Command bridge," scans indicate large amounts of weapons and militant personnel. Permission to deploy Plasma Strike Captain?"

The Captain zoomed in on the indicated area of the screen, seeing a large grouping of buildings and other open areas. An obvious training camp.

“You have authorization to begin Glassing the area,” said the Captain,” contained beam, low yield.”
“Yes sir. Activation of Energy Projector… 100%. Plasma Charge… 100%. Acquiring target… Initiating Plasma Bombardment.”

On the screen, an intense beam of white light raced across the field of view of the camera on the bottom of the ship. It then struck the target encampment in an immense blaze of light, and the entire area was turned into a field of Glass.

[Vvarden]

[Kassala, Moohr System, 1300 Hours]

The sun was high in the sky on the planet of Kassala, in the Moohr system, the outermost reach of the Sun-Drenched Empire, though Kassala was under the control of the House of Zekulu, a vassal of sorts, with a massive amount of autonomy. Today was a good day, based on the massive numbers of slaves brought over from the Phosine and Nisine lands. The Phosines and Nisines were two races of bipedal amphibious creatures sharing the same planet in the Phosine system, just neighbouring the Sun-Drenched Empire. For many hundreds of years, the House of Zekulu captured and sold various groups of Phosines and Nisines, selling them mostly all across the nebula. The Sun-Drenched Empire didn't allow the slaves to be sold there, as they thought it would taint them negatively. Instead, people from all over the Empire gathered here for new household servants, among other, shadier purposes.

The man behind it all, a man named Fabras Zekulu was on the planet, watching the ships filled with soon-to-be slaves drop off their cargo, like dragonflies landing down on a leaf before leaving, standing on a large gravel hill, surrounded by guards. Over the past decades those who worshiped the old gods had been particularly violent in expressing their opposition to the slavery of the Phosine species, breaking open warehouses at night and hijacking ships on their way to Kassala, bringing them to some free place not too far away where they could be treated better. Fabras Zekulu muttered the words "Scum" as he remembered how one of them shot Fabras in the face, causing a nice little scar below the eye. Beside Fabras was a merchant, clad in rich, flowing robes and tapping away at some holographic tablet.

"How many Phosines have been sold today?" Fabras asked in a deep, rough, scratchy voice.

"About ten thousand, my lord." The merchant replied.

"A thousand?" Fabras exclaimed, peering at another ship drop off a container of a hundred Nisines.

"Yes. Several large settlements was sacked. Almost no damage done to our ships, mostly because the Nisines and Phosines have barely discovered fire. Though mind you, a spear got thrown into an engine, and it created a really bad blockage, though everyone and the cargo were safe."

"Good." Fabras sighed and watched more ships arrive, bringing more and more soon-to-be slaves. Today was going to be a really good day for him. He could tell.

[1303 Hours]

"Another ship has arrived." A young man with thick black hair peered through binoculars over at their target.
"Good." Said a woman beside him, grabbing some weapons from off the table, a knife, a plasma pistol. All around her, various soldiers, some in decent clothes, others in little more than rags stood, keeping a vigil over the area. They had to be quick. They had to break open the locks that held the Nisines and then get as many as they could with them. The vehicle they had with them was a converted hover-ship, one time used for hauling large amounts of cargo to and fro isolated places on planets like Kessala. Now hopefully it'd fit close to ten thousand of them. And even more hopefully, the House of Zekulu don't notice the extremely poor quality of the invisibility shield covering the hover-ship. And even then, even more hopefully, the Nisines and Phosines decide to go inside. They had food inside, yes, but it was hard to encourage them to get them in, it's like leading a cow down stairs, it's almost impossible. But they had to try.

“Alright. We have to be quick. We have to be fast. I’ll need some of you to spread out cause a distraction whilst I and Mansa get them out of the pens.” The woman nodded to the young man with the binoculars as he stood up.

“Wait, Selassie, you know the drill.” The young man, Mansa stood up and slowly took off a golden amulet from around his neck, a pendant with waves on it. A symbol of hope, a symbol that water will return if the old gods were remembered. “Give this to my mother at Obi, if anything should happen.”

Selassie nodded, and placed the pendant in her pocket solemly. She knew the drill, but it didn’t stop the possibility that someone might get killed on this mission. For one last piece of advice, she turned and walked over to a large red, amphibious humanoid creature wearing a large tan robe with a massive hood to fit his head. Isaac.

Isaac was originally a Phosine slave, but he was among the first to be broken out, and for the past ten years he had worked with the rebels, helping them free slaves. One of the reasons he was captured was because of his intelligence, and by luck the rebels freed a cage of the most intelligent Nisines and Phosines. There was a difference between the two, most notably the colour, as Phosines had red and white skin, and several thick spikes jutting out of the head, whilst Nisines had no spikes and had grey skin. Isaac had that almost eternal frown on his face that both races had, not one of emotion, but rather the shape of his mouth. Selassie knew though, that inside, he was frowning.

“You ready Isaac?”

Isaac made a noise like a small burble, before speaking again, this time in perfect speech.
“Yes. Yes. I am ready. I will try my best to communicate to my brothers and sisters out there to get inside, but there is the possibility of stubbornness. I will try to get them in, though. I will lay down my life to.”

Selassie nodded, she remembered when she first joined the rebels, by then Isaac had been with the rebels a week, and was very stubborn, refusing to eat, drink, or learn the human language. It was only when biological needs set in, and Isaac finally relented, and that he always said was the best decision so far. Of course Isaac wasn’t his real name, rather one chosen by a Croxian member, Divico.
Selassie now looked around her. Everyone looked ready, everyone looked prepared. “Another ship landed.” Mansa spoke again, now was the time.

“Everyone get ready! We have to be quick, we have to be fast! May Eion bless you all…” She spoke before climbing into the back of the hover-craft, the group of twenty rebels dissipating into the desert sands.

[1313 Hours]

Selassie hoped they wouldn’t see the ship approach, it was covered with a cloaking device, but it was rather cheap, and when it passed in front of someone, the air appeared to shimmer. Hopefully it wouldn’t be worse, and it wouldn’t break down. Where is the distraction? She saw the camp, big hard light gates, shimmering blue at the front, guarding the entrance to the containers full of the Nisines and Phosines. Where was the distraction? Selassie felt something had gone wrong, and she spoke into her communicator, only to hear the sounds of gunfire.

Selassie felt like a brick had been dropped on her stomach. But she knew what to do, what every rebel knew, if something went wrong, complete the mission, no matter what. The gates were just ahead. There was no point stopping, they had to go through them. The blue hard light shattered into thousands of little cubes as the hover-ship ploughed into them, before stopping in the middle of a courtyard, surrounded on almost all sides by containers full of Nisisnes and Phosines. The alarm went off instantly, a loud screeching howl.

“Let’s do this!” Selassie shouted, as her and Mansa ran off to the containers, whilst Isaac spoke to his countrymen inside to stay away from the door. Two rebels jumped out the back, and began to secure the area. Selassie activated the lock, and with a small blast, the container door opened, spilling out about a hundred Nisines. Isaac spoke to them, in his melodic babble, pointing to the now uncloaked hovership. She could see some guards approach in the distance. Another blast sounded from Mansa’s end, and more Nisines and Phosines clambered into the hovership. Selassie knew there was little time left, so she did what she could. She blew open the gates with her plasma pistol, causing a bigger blast, but much swifter. With that, she broke open several more containers. That had to be…a thousand?

"Go free, run! May Eion give you luck! Run!" She shouted, opening the latches to the cages. All around guards were fighting with the rebels, a bloody stalemate, with blasts of plasma and laser sounding across the gravel valley.

Selassie opened several more in a matter of minutes, and Isaac kept talking. Now the rebels had to wait until the Nisines and Phosines all went inside. She ran down to where the firefight was intensifying, and she saw the dead body of a rebel in front of her. She ran and crouched behind a container, before loading her plasma pistol and firing, causing a guard to fall. Almost half an hour of fighting continued, and Selassie saw Mansa’s group several rows down begin to hold them off.
Suddenly, the slave guards began to storm forward, and Selassie watched as Mansa’s comrade was killed beside him. She let out a gasp as she saw Mansa fall to the ground, surrounded by slaver forces.

Then suddenly, one guard warrior went flying through the air, followed by another. Mansa popped up, and swung his gun, as an improvised club. Skulls were crushed and flesh was ripped as the blow made contact with several enemies. Mansa was clearly in a rage watching his friends die. He swung this way and that, killing the attacking enemy, and adding to the tally of foes killed that day. His group stayed true to him and kept up the fight, and the guards began to fall back…

It was then that a lone blast struck Mansa right in the chest. Selassie watched in horror as Mansa let out a cry, before collapsing. Selassie looked behind her, and seeing that the Nisines and Phosines had all gotten inside, she led the call to retreat inside the vehicle. The rebels pulled back, darting behind the containers for cover as they entered the vehicle. Selassie covered several retreating rebels, shooting several guards, before clambering in the front and looking out both her mirrors to see the rebels inside, pushed the craft forward with a jolt, before it gained full speed and disappeared off into the wilderness, taking little damage from the blasts of plasma.

Selassie sighed, switched on the autodestination, and waited. When they got back to the main camp, she said nothing. As she entered her tent, nothing was spoken. Not even a thought. Selassie stood there for a while, and eventually began to feel like a fool. This only made her more angry.

“He loved you and worshiped you!” She shouted, her voice growing hoarse as her chords strained. “He was fighting for you! He wanted to meet the Eionkouda! And you let him perish! You let him die! Why?! Where is your wisdom?! Why did you let him die?!”

Selassie wanted to throw more things. She wanted to let out her anger. A chair became her first victim. It was thrown against a pole in the middle of the tent, and thrown with such force that a leg shattered. Next came one of her gloves, lying on a crate near her bed. It was thrown on the ground, bouncing once before turning over. Its kinsman became the next victim. Then Selassie decided that she was still angry enough at the chair, and threw it on the ground, and then again, until the object was all but shattered in pieces. When this was done, she found himself standing there, alone in the tent, panting, feeling her heart race within her chest. Her blue eyes stared at the ground, seeing the scattered bits of wood that had formerly been her chair.

“I’m sorry…” she whispered. “I’m sorry. Forgive me please…” She wept, feeling more tears flow, soaking into the fabric of her tunic. “I’m so sorry...please forgive me…”

She pulled out the pendant out of her pocket, and looked at it for a long while. It wasn't Eion's fault. It wasn't her fault. It was the House of Zekulu's fault. Next time they'd make things a bit personal, perhaps attack an auction, perhaps assassinate a head merchant, something that would discourage business. That would be what Mansa wanted.

Engraved on the back of Mansa’s pendant were the words “So others can live in freedom…”

[Croxoco]

Tyrant's Fall, Croxia Prime:
Lord President Bellamont had barely been in office for 6 weeks, but already, his landmark act of legislation had been passed into law; The Colonies Act was to have profound consequences for the Republic; it gave each and every colony under Croxian Rule substantial autonomy; along with the right to hold a referendum on complete sovereign independence from the Republic. This single act would lead to the disintegration of the republic within the year, though fornow, the republic was strong. It would take an incident of enormous consequence before the republic would be ripped apart, and replaced by a war tone expanse of waste; little did Bellamont know, but this incident was on its way, and would soon engulf the entire nebula in conflict.

[hr]

Arcadia, Vitelli IV:
The move had been sudden, owing to the rapidly changing political environment in the Republic; The Vitellian System had, by special decree of the Lord President of Croxia, been granted a substantially higher degree of autonomy than the other colonies; indeed, it was now recognised as a fully sovereign entity within the Republic, with all affairs of government now resting solely with the people of Vitelli IV, which had now, with much pomp and circumstance, been returned to its native name of Noyturn. Now, the Republic of Noyturn was responsible for its own defence; accordingly, both Kate and Dana Harrowstorm, at the request of their brother, Kasterborous Androgar Harrowstorm, Consul of the Noytish Senate, had returned to Arcadia, to oversee the transformation of the Interstellar Contract Agency into the United Noytish Intelligence Taskforce (UNIT), an organization responsible for the scientific research, intelligence operations and security services of the Noytish Government. The ICA asset, codenamed 'The Viceroy' had been sent standing orders, and was now strategically placed in the Lucian System to plot and execute a mass secession of colonies from the Croxian Star Republic, meanwhile, the 'Hitman's' assignment in the Vespasian System had been completed; He was now stationed on Croxia itself, awaiting an order which would trigger the chain of events which would end the Croxian Republic. The Captain and the Detective were still on assignments outside of Republic space, though these assignments would also dramatically alter the historyof the nebula; all the pieces were falling into place. House Harrowstorm was now ready to fundamentally alter the existing framework of power in the nebula.

[hr]

Unknown Location, Outside of Croxian Space:

The Captain had rendezvoused with the Detective, aboard the command ship of a small fleet sent to intervene in the Sun-Drenched Empire. A Republican Destroyer, flanked by two Republican Frigates and supported by 8 Republican Corvettes were en route to the Moohr System, to assist in the mass freeing of the slaves being held on Kassala. The Captain, undergoing the pseudonym of 'Andro', and the Detective, undergoing the pseudonym of 'River', were to lead the UNIT squadron themselves, and were under orders to cooperate fully with the rebellion leadership.

[The Landfish Colonies]

Outside Kelsey's Landing
Demeter
Silk Road

---

Demeter had been a lush world when it was discovered by Sheamus Kelsey almost twenty years ago. But of course, Fregata had it's plans. A large mineral deposits were discovered beneath the planets thick jungles, and the trees where cut clean from much of the planets surface to make room for colonists and mines. In fact, Demeter had only been the first step into the system now known as 'The Silk Road' was full of planets and moons with dense deposits of valuable elements and was one of the company's most important assets. However this made it the focus of many rouge groups, bent on claiming it for themselves. A recent string of attacks along the Silk Road, and across Demeter and her moons had brought the younger of the two Volk brothers, Issac into the system with his militia and a battalion of company peacekeepers.

Now on the planets southernmost region, and one of the last remaining patches if jungle, the explorer stood in a makeshift base camp, looking over maps and charts. "The insurgents seem to be based around Fort Gold, light armour and infantry mostly. Say, have we heard back from recon yet?"

"Negative sir..."

Issac cussed loudly, "Well then I suppose they no we're coming then. Get second platoon ready to move, and prep the frigates on standby for support. We'll have the fort back by the end of today."

"And what about us, sir?" A man in clean white uniform stepped up, sticking out like a sore thumb in the jungle. He was a Fregata peacekeeper, one Issac Volk had almost forgotten was under his command.

"Umm... stick with second platoon. You will report to Major Venter from now on, alright." Volk nodded to one of his commanders, Major Wikus Venter, a young man with a spiky blonde beard and short cropped hair. "Report back to me tonight, but for now, I have a meeting."

Iron Factory
Hephaestus
Volk System

---

Jameson Volk rested at his desk, looking over manuscripts and company reports from Fregata systems. Out side of the window, his ship the Heart of Vesta waited for him outside, almost beckoning him. He thought back to the good old days, just Issac and himself, Kelsey, Castle and Baffin, as he looked over his pride and joy.

Starring back down at the computer on his desk, he flipped through message after message until he found what he was looking for. The transmission from the Grand Duke of Migdar about opening trade routes. He sighed, looking it over. He still had to meet with Mr. Prentiss, who resided on Migdar. He supposed he could kill two birds with a single stone, pay this Grand Duke a visit, and meet with Connor Prentiss on the same voyage.

Pressing the intercom on his desk, Jameson spoke to his Secretary, "Amelia, get my ship ready. I'm leaving for Migdar."

[Vvarden]

In the space above Kassala lay a Sun-Drenched fleet, assigned there to guard the Zekulu, albeit reluctantly. The Zekulu were not very liked in the Empire, but they showed their loyalty as a protector as guarding them, again reluctantly.
Admiral Afeworki Hailu commanded the Alemayehu, the newest heavy frigate, fresh out of the dock. Never had there been a stronger, more advanced battleship, at least to Sun-Drenched standards of testing. It had never been in a battle though, and that made it vulnerable. Some of the other ships in the fleet had, during the Kassalan rebellion, so they had experience.
The crew saluted as Admiral Afeworki exited a lift. The area was dominated in the middle by the Admiral's chair, and all around were little desks where the crewmen worked. Behind the admiral was a large bridge that housed most of the weapons systems.
"There appears to be a ship approaching, sir." One of the crewmen spoke in curiosity as Afeworki sat down.
"On screen." The Admiral spoke.
There, in the blackness of space above Kassala, was a Noytish fleet heading towards the planet. Large ships accompanied by smaller ships. It looked formidable.
"My Emperor." The Admiral spoke in blasphemy. Luckily due to the circumstances nobody dared arrest him. As far as they were concerned, he was the only one who could get the crew out safely.
"Send them a message, tell them they're entering our space and if they progress further their actions may be interpreted as hostile." Afeworki addressed. The radio operator quickly punched in a message.
Thirty seconds passed with no reply.
"Repeat the message." The Admiral spoke again, starting to feel nervous. They had similar numbers, and the Sun-Drenched flagship had the Emperor's name dedicated to it. If the ship were to be destroyed, well, even non Sun-Drenched people could see the meaning.
"Still no response sir. There appears to be no problem with communication." The radio officer repeated.
"We're getting a message."
"From the Noytish?"
"No, from the House of Zekulu. They say...they say since we are here to protect them, we must attack the fleet."
The Admiral almost jumped at the suggestion of the Zekulu ordering a Sun-Drenched fleet to stop a humanitarian mission.
The Admiral sighed. He had to make a difficult choice, allow these Noytish to persuade some slave owners to give them up, or fire on them. The Admiral and some members of the crew did have some old god sympathies, and the captain disliked the Emperor's scheme of protecting vassals that aggravated other nations slightly, but by law he was tasked to defend the Zekulu, and based on the transmission they just made, they were ordering him to "protect Zekulu profits" by firing on that humanitarian fleet. Admiral Afeworki sighed at the dilemma again as he thought. He could disobey the order, but that could be called disobeying the rule of the Empire or even mutiny, and that would mean harm to their families as well as they'd be arrested. The Admiral rubbed his eyes and made the choice that decided the fate of his crewmen and career.
"Prepare to attack, raise shields."
The Sun-Drenched fleet moved through space like giant spearheads and descended on the Noytish fleet, orienteering in a long line, lined up alongside, like the battleships of old.
"Fire the plasma guns." The Admiral announced, and a green beam struck one of the Noytish ships as it was moving out of the beams range, causing it's shield to flash momentarily with the impact.
"Admiral!" The weapons officer shouted "They have fired their missiles and locked on!"
"It's too late Admiral, they're going to hit!"
At once three large blasts struck the shield, causing the area around the Sun-Drenched ship to glow blue. The shockwave knocked some people over, but it was not the worst to come. Other parts of the fleet were firing onto other ships, and two light frigates had successfully deactivated the shields of one Noytish ship, leaving it vulnerable. One duo of ships at the back, one Sun-Drenched, the other Noytish, were attaching themselves to each other in some kind of boarding action. One light Sun-Drenched ship was being pummeled by large blasts from the largest Noytish ship, causing parts of it to explode, and then quickly empty as the explosions vanish from lack of air. Finally, one more broadside caused it to break up, damning all aboard to a cold death in space. The Admiral knew the enemy attacker that destroyed the ship was the enemy flagship. Destroying it would mean a huge blow for the rest of the Noytish fleet.
"Bring the ship round 180 degrees up ahead to intercept the Noytish flagship."
Admiral Afeworki saw the fellow ship beside him move sleekly into the space the flagship occupied before, starting a duel with the former opponent. Already some parts of the battle became a melee at close range, leading to catastrophic damage to both sides. They had to destroy the flagship. The Alemayehu quickly spun itself alongside the Noytish flagship, firing first, it's green beams starting to carve a hole into it's hull.
"The Noytish ship is firing back!"
"Evasive maneuvers!" Admiral Afeworki yelled, before a crewman shouted "It's too late!"
The crew let out a shout as they were knocked to the ground following the shockwave. The crew shielded their eyes with their arms from the flash of light as missiles slammed into the ship's hull. The deck shuddered violently, pitching the Admiral sideways in his seat with enough force to send him sprawling out of his chair and across the deck. From somewhere more towards the bow from his station, the groaning of buckling steel echoed through the ship's hull, along with the soft thump he recognized as chambers suddenly venting atmosphere into space. Red emergency lights flared on throughout the ship, and an emergency alert blared over the comms. "Hull breach on in bow section, Decks 1 to 4, all sections. Sealing emergency bulkheads."
"Fire back, with spread torpedo pattern four!" Afeworki spoke as he rose from the ground. The weapon officer climbed off the floor in his daze before remembering the Admiral's orders.
At once several large rockets exited out of the undamaged bays, like fireworks in the night. The Noytish ship moved as it tried to escape the blasts, but it was in vain, three hit it in the back, one at the front with two hitting the middle, causing it to roll over onto it's undamaged side. It fired back instantly from both sides, and the world shook. More warnings sounded of hull breaches, and the Admiral saw what happened to the rest of his fleet. Most of them were extremely damaged, but a majority had triumphed, now turning towards the next ship in the line, before they retreated with too much damage. Before Admiral Afeworki could make any more action on the Noytish ships a crewman spoke.
"The flagship is retreating. So is the rest of their fleet."
"Should we fire sir?" The weapons officer asked. "It won't be able to take one more torpedo spread to the side."
"No. They've learned our might. They're going to lick their wounds, and so shall we. They are not firing, so neither should we." The Admiral spoke before ordering a withdraw to the nearest spacedock. Of the 11 Sun-Drenched ships, 6 survived, albeit with heavy wounds. Of the 11 Noytish ships, five survived, again with heavy wounds. Admiral Afeworki was given a commendation after a small trial saw him as a defender, especially since the Noytish fleet held it's own, showing they were prepared for a military confrontation. And with that, the fires of war emerged from the cold ashes in the Sun-Drenched Empire again, and the people prepared for a fight against an equal foe.

[Croxoco]

Tyrant's Fall, Croxia:
The news spread like wildfire across the Nebula. A Noytish humanitarian mission had been fired upon by Sun-Drenched ships, in what was an act of war. The Republic of Noyturn was in uproar, leading shock waves all the way to Croxia itself, where the Senate had been summoned to emergency session. Lord President Bellamont, standing at his podium before the legislators of Croxia, began to address the session.

"My most esteemed friends and colleagues, I bring to you news of a tragedy which has engulfed our fair Republic. At twenty-two minutes past four o'clock this morning, Sunspire Time, a humanitarian mission to Kassala, whose intent was to purchase all the slaves on Kassala with the intention of freeing them, and to negotiate the cessation of slavery by House Zekulu in return for lucrative access to our own markets, was attacked by a Sun-Drenched Fleet commanded by the same House Zekulu of Kassala. This humanitarian mission was sent by our esteemed friend, Kasterborous Harrowstorm, who serves as my counterpart on Noyturn, and was under the command of two top secret Noytish operatives. In my capacity as Lord President of the Republic, I must beseech this honourable chamber to declare a state of war between the Croxian Star Republic and House Zekulu of Kassala. The reasons for this are clear:
- House Zekulu has participated in the great crime of slavery, enslaving an entire species to sell across the nebula, disregarding the basic and fundamental rights of all sentient species.
- House Zekulu, in defence of its slaving practices, has fired upon a humanitarian mission, whose purpose it was to negotiate the cessation of slavery with an agreement which would have benefitted all parties involved, thereby renouncing any peaceful coexistence between Croxia and Kassala.
- And that if House Zekulu can conduct slavery within the Nebula and fire on peaceful Humanitarian Missions with impunity, our Republic, is no longer a power to be feared and respected by the international community.
I now humbly ask this senate to take action. Give me authorization to use military force to free the slaves on Kassala and to punish those who attacked the Humanitarian Mission this morning. Declare war on House Zekulu of Kassala."

The entire senate roared with applause, every member chanting "Vote now! Vote now!". The debate, followed by the vote, took a mere two hours, with 413 senators voting for war, 37 abstaining and non voting against. The resolve of the Senate was solid; the Republic was going to war.

From the Office of the Lord President of Croxia

BE IT ENACTED BY THE RIGHT HONOURABLE LORD PRESIDENT OF THE REPUBLIC OF CROXIA, WITH THE ADVICE AND CONSENT OF THE HONOURABLE SENATORS OF THE REPUBLIC OF CROXIA IN EXTRAORDINARY SESSION ASSEMBLED, AND BY THE AUTHORITY OF THE SAME, AS FOLLOWS: That a state of war is hereby declared to exist between the Republic of Croxia, the territories and dependencies thereof, and House Zekulu of Kassala, arising from the attack upon a Noytish Humanitarian Mission to Kassala by House Zekulu; and that the Lord President of the Republic of Croxia is hereby authorized to use the whole military forces of the Republic of Croxia to carry the prosecution of the war into effect, and to issue to private armed vessels of the Republic of Croxia commissions and letters of marque and general reprisal, in such form as he shall think proper, and under the Seal of the Republic of Croxia, against the vessels, goods and effects of House Zekulu of Kassala and the subjects thereof. And that this war only extends to between the Republic of Croxia and House Zekulu, and is in no way, shape or form, intended to commence hostilities between the whole Star Empire of Croxia and the Sun-Drenched Empire at large.

[Vvarden]

In Hedareb, the God Emperor Alemayehu III stood waiting, waiting for his council to arrive, to advise him on the matter regarding the attack on a Noytish fleet. The Emperor paced in a long room, the council chambers. At one end was a small wooden throne, a rarity and a show of power, due to the lack of wood on the planet. Stretching to the other side of the room was two rows of cushions facing the long sides of walls opposite to them. The council members would sit closest, whilst governors and noblemen sat further back. Finally, many robed Sun Drenched Men entered the room in a rush, sat on the soft cushions, and so the council was started.

“The Zekulu will not be able to withstand an assault. I have no qualms about their demise. The question is whether we want a Croxian outpost on our doorstep.” The God Emperor started as he sat down on the throne whilst his summoned council gathered around him.

“I am no fan of the Zekulu. I would like to see them gone, but again, as your majesty raised, a Croxian outpost so close could hamper our relations, make tensions.” Mebreatu spoke clearly to the Emperor and the surrounding nobles.

“We do have a small suspicion they were aiding rebels in the area, as how would a fleet of purely humanitarian ships hold its own against one of the newest and mightiest fleets in my Emperor’s Empire. It makes little sense, if any.”

“That seems true, Mebreatu, but I will not drag this nation in to war over something small.” The Emperor spoke clearly as he looked to his spiritual advisor, his representative of his temple, the Sun Temple. The Temple was basically an extension of the Emperor, they had the power to raise villages if need be, all by the Emperor’s command. “Is there any reaction from the followers of the old gods? I will not go to war if they have the power to attack us.”

“Your excellence. We have monitored many hotspots. They do not have the skills required to make a move on this blessed earth.”

“And what of our military, what are the chances of winning a war against the Croxians?”

“They are moderate chances, your majesty, and equal if you may permit the use of the word. Of course, your majesty himself is a blessing for our side, so I’d say the odds were more like sixty percent in our favour.” The War Chief Shak spoke, the marks of flattery clear in his voice.

“Do not try to charm me, Shak.” Alemayehu spoke, his voice rising. The smile from Shak’s face disappeared. “Tell me the real odds. Do not include me. Flattery will not save you when you are subjected to burning under the heat of the sun.”

Shak looked fearful for a second, before switching to a more cautious manner.
“Very well, my Emperor. As I stated, the odds are even. It all relies on our fleets. We have more men in our military, but they have more powerful weapons. We may be able to rush them and catch them by surprise as they are invading Zekulu, in which case they will most likely sue for peace. And then we could invade some of their systems, hopping from one planet to another before we reach their heartland. But of course, it is his majesty’s choice to go to war.”

Alemayehu stood still for a moment, and took his time to decide. Ten minutes had passed, before the Sun-Drenched Emperor spoke “Very well. We shall discreetfully declare war, for the purposes that they are attacking a vassal of the Sun-Drenched Empire, and that a Croxian base may lead to aggression, alongside that we need water and pastureland, both of which are common on Croxian planets. Again, do not officially declare war yet. Let us wait until they have their fleet in one spot, and there we will attack them. This will be, as the ancient Terrans from Croxian law called it, a Pearl Harbour.”

[Croxoco]

Lynton, Galbatrax, United Kingdom Capital System:
The entire United Kingdom was bustling with excitement. The old enemy, Croxia, had now been dragged into a costly war with the Sun-Drenched Empire, and the political establishment in Yesminister were now deciding how totake advantage. In the end, both the governing Tories and the opposition Whigs were in agreement; the agreement even had the whole-hearted support of the King, who still held a grudge against Croxia for its past actions against his people. The United Kingdom was to prepare for War, though for this to happen, the military would need reformed and reconstructed, which would cost an astonishing amount of money. Beforehand, the Government, in its limited role, collected no taxation, nor did it impose tariffs or fines. Instead, its revenue came from the vast array of businesses, estates and resource exploitation rights owned by the Crown, whose profits alone produced an estimated 2.5% of gross domestic product, all of which formed the official income of the government. Now the time had come to impose taxes and tariffs for the first time in over thirty years, thus this next Act of Parliament was to be one of the most lucrative (for the State) in modern history.

REVENUE AND TAXATION ACT 6000
6000 CHAPTER 42
AN ACT FOR GRANTING AND APPLYING CERTAIN TAXES, DUTIES AND TARIFFS, IN THE UNITED KINGDOM OF GALBATRAX AND SANZADOR, AND THE TERRITORIES AND DEPENDENCIES THEREOF, TOWARDS DEFRAYING THE EXPENSES OF DEFENDING, PROTECTING AND SECURING THE SAME.

WHEREAS that ancient and repugnant enemy of the King's most excellent Majesty, cursed nationally as the Republic of Croxia, has endeavoured to subvert the sovereign power of a fellow independent state, by declaring war on the Sun-Drenched Empire for the purposes of forcefully interfering in the domestic affairs of that same state and to enact a 'revenge' upon the ruling House Zekulu of Kassala for pursuing legitimate actions of defence in protection of its independence and means of prosperity, the King's most excellent Majesty, upon the advice of his Right Honourable ministers, has saw fit to make preparations for war with the Republic of Croxia for the purposes of upholding the sovereign independence and territorial integrity of the Sun-Drenched Empire in the face of dishonest and mischievous actions by the governments of the Republic of Croxia and the Republic of Noyturn. We, your Majesty's most dutiful and loyal subjects, the elected representatives of Galbatrax and Sanzador in Parliament assembled, have therefore resolved to give and to grant unto your Majesty the several taxes, duties and tariffs herein after mentioned; and do most humbly beseech your Majesty that it may be enacted.

BE IT THEREFORE ENACTED by the King's most excellent Majesty, by and with the advice and consent of the Right Honourable Senators of Galbatrax and Sanzador, and of the Honourable Representatives of Galbatrax and Sanzador, in this present Parliament assembled, and by the authority of the same, as follows:

CHAPTER I: INCOME TAX
Income taxes are to be instituted upon the working population (those that are neither in education, unemployed or care) in accordance with the following provisions:
- Section I: For every pound sterling earned, up to the sum of twenty thousand pounds sterling, no income tax shall be paid.
- Section II: For every pound sterling earned, up to the sum of thirty-five thousand pounds sterling, and exceeding twenty thousand pounds sterling, a tax of twenty pence.
- Section III: For every pound sterling earned, up to the sum of fifty thousand pounds sterling, and exceeding thirty-five pounds sterling, a tax of thirty-five pence.
- Section IV: For every pound sterling earned, exceeding the sum of fifty thousand pounds sterling, a tax of fifty pence.

CHAPTER II: TARIFFS AND VALUE ADDED TAX
The indirect taxes are to be levied upon the United Kingdom, in accordance with the following provisions:
- Section I: On all items of monetary value, whether electronic, food, clothing, adornment, decoration or utility produced domestically and sold domestically, exclusing those hereinafter mentioned, a rate of ten per cent the value of the item.
- Section II: On all items of monetary value, whether electronic, food, clothing, adornment, decoration or utility produced abroad and sold domestically, a rate of twenty-five per cent the value of the item.
- Section III: On all letters and parcels which may be sent within the United Kingdom, a stamp duty of twenty pence.
- Section IV: On all tabloid newspapers, broadsheet newspapers, periodicals, journals, almanacs, leaflets and pamphlets distributed and sold within the United Kingdom, a stamp duty of ten pence.
- Section V: On all foreign vessels entering UK Ports, an entry fee of five hundred pounds. On all standard shipping containers entering UK Ports, an entry fee of one thousand pounds.
- Section VI: On all real estate properties sold in the UK, a stamp duty of twenty pence for every pound.
- Section VII: On all alchoholic beverages sold in the UK, a stamp duty of ten pence for every unit (defined as 10 millilitres of pure alcohol) sold.
- Section VIII: On all tobacco and cannabis products sold in the UK, a stamp duty of one pence for every gram sold.

CHAPTER III: FINES
Fines, in punishment of criminal activity, are to be levied upon the United Kingdom, in addition to any other sentences already mandated, in accordance with the following provisions:
- Section I: On all misdemeanours, excluding those herein after mentioned, a fine of five hundred pounds.
- Section II: On all driving misdemeanours, a fine of one thousand pounds.
- Section III: On all misdemeanours concerning illegal possession of restricted or prohibited items, a fine of one hundred pounds.
- Section IV: On all felonies, excluding those herein after mentioned, a fine of five thousand pounds.
- Section V: On all driving felonies, a fine of ten thousand pounds.
- Section VI: On all cases of Rape, Grievous Bodily Harm, Manslaughter or Murder, a fine of twenty thousand pounds.
- Section VII: On all cases of Treason, forfeiture of all estates, assets and properties.

CHAPTER IV: POLL TAXES
One-off poll taxes, to raise emergency revenue, are to be levied upon the United Kingdom, in accordance with the following provisions:
- Section I: On all minors (those aged below 21), unemployed, disabled or elderly (those aged 75 or above), permanently living in the United Kingdom, a tax of one hundred pounds.
- Section II: On all other persons permanently living in the United Kingdom, a tax of two hundred pounds.
- Section III: On all foreign nationals visiting the United Kingdom, excluding diplomatic officers and heads of state, a tax of two hundred pounds.

It was estimated by the treasury that this single act would raise government revenue from 2.5% of GDP to 45% of GDP, an astonishing increase in revenue which would greatly suit the needs of the United Kingdom in the military reconstruction which was to come.