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Arsenal of Civilization [Closed, ATTN: Fuvuni]

A staging-point for declarations of war and other major diplomatic events. [In character]
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Kisia
Diplomat
 
Posts: 966
Founded: Jul 19, 2009
Moralistic Democracy

Arsenal of Civilization [Closed, ATTN: Fuvuni]

Postby Kisia » Sun Dec 30, 2018 7:03 pm

Lobby, Director’s Office
Heikari Research Station
Yeisho-ju, Asankari Star Republic, Kisian League

Deputy Commander Keisage Heikoru wasn’t in the best of moods today. He fast-walked down the corridor, flanked by two members of the State Army. Keisage was an older kisian, in his late 80s, his hair and fur had long since turned grey-white, his whiskers also drooping with age. His muscled body and scarred visage betrayed his age however. A veteran of the First Republican Rising, the Five Bloody Years, as well as the Republican Reunification Wars, Keisage had been around for some time.

His olive drab half-cloak fluttered slightly from the speed he was walking, matching his equally colored tunic; the dark khaki trousers with red piping and jet-black boots complimented the entire outfit. A garrison cap with red piping adorned his head, four equally red diamond shaped pips sat to the right, just below a blue, white, and red colored cap badge indicating he was an officer of the Asankirian State Army.

As he walked into the lobby of the Director’s Office, a young woman looked up from her desk and eyed him. “Deputy Commander Heikoru? Director Meitado is waiting for you in his office. If you’d follow me…” she said, before he stopped her.

“It’s fine, I know the way. Just buzz me in, if you would please.” Heikoru spoke, before giving a curt nod to the secretary. Turning to his guards, he motioned for them to wait in the lobby, before proceeding ahead alone.

Directors Office

Director Aiku Meitado was sitting at his elegant desk, absentmindedly thumbing through some reports while smoking a cigar. The entire room, which resembled more of a mansion’s study than it did a central office, even had a window overlooking one of the worlds in the system. Bored with reports for now, he got up and walked over to a wall console. Hitting a button, a panel moved away to reveal a fully stocked liquor bar.

He was in the middle of pouring himself a glass of Naporsli when Heikoru walked in, giving Meitado a quizzical look at the bright green looking beverage. When he returned the gaze in response, Heikoru merely rolled his eyes and took a seat.

“We have matters to discuss.” Heikoru stated plainly.

“They call it Naporsli. I got a rather expensive bottle of it as a gift from one of the leading Fuvuni working with us on the project. I knew there was a reason I’d open it today…” Meitado replied, ignoring the comment at first.

Heikoru disliked Meitado to some degree, both of them being different products of their times. While both of them were Asankirians, Heikoru had grown up in the twilight years of a dying empire and rather crisis-prone First Republic. Meitado had grown up in the relative peace and prosperity of the Second Republic, the troubling times of the First Republic mere chapters in the history books to him.

At only 32 years old, the light-grey furred Kisian had managed not only to obtain a prestigious position- he’d done it without his family, having been disowned by them shortly into adulthood. Being the second son, it was expected he’d enlist in the military to fight for glory and honor; instead, he took another path- that of an engineer. Being from a prominent political family, the resultant internal discord and public loss of face the family suffered was severe, and as a last ditch effort to save face, his father disowned and subsequently banished him, revoking his original last name as a final insult.

He cared little, taking on the family name of his mother before she married. Using what little savings he had left, he bought a ticket, and set sail for new opportunities in the frontier. He was not as order-bound as his father- or Heikoru for that matter. He held a view that patriotism could come in many more flavors than just fighting and dying on the line for the League, that order and stability, while having it’s place, needed to be tempered with proper democratic zeal, and that the alien, while to be distrusted, could be worked with to some degree.

It was these contrasting views between the old and new generations that split them apart, causing the two to not see eye to eye on many issues.

“I don’t appreciate your tomfoolery in the least.” Heikoru replied, wrinkling his nose at the foreign beverage. “I don’t see how you do it, treating with these aliens and partaking of their food and beverages. Is that really how you think a Kisian should behave?”

“The Fuvuni by all means, are very skilled weapons designers and allies of the Republic. I think it is safe to partake of their meat and spirits, at the least. They help us in our overall goal of keeping our nation safe. That’s all that matters to me.” Meitado fired back, Heikoru giving a slight nod.

“Anyhow.” he continued, sipping on the beverage. “I take it you’re here to inquire about the…delays in the new department?” He inquired, looking at the aged general.

“Indeed. I’ve put a large investment of my time and political credit, if you will, into seeing this project blossom. Succeed, and we’ll both be looking at a smooth ride for the foreseeable future as the League pioneers these new weapons systems into general combat usage. Fail, and we’ll both be dismissed as fools.” He looked across the room to the window, staring out at the planet. “I’d rather take my own life than suffer the embarrassment of such an abject existence.” Meitado scoffed.

“You sound very much like my father, his honor is his life.” He said in a mocking manner, before suddenly becoming much more serious. “I am however, still an Asankirian, and my word is my honor as well.” Hammering back the rest of the drink, he slammed the cup down on the desk and began rapidly clacking away on his keyboard, before turning one of the many screens on his desk to face the general. On the screen were several images of various prototype weapons, with associated technical jargon and other such stats. Meitado stood, pouring himself another drink before walking to the other side of the desk. Before Heikoru could complain, he stopped him again.

“Admittedly, I think better when I’m slightly inebriated.” he stated plainly, with his colleague shrugging and motioning him to continue. Taking a sip, he then went on. “Before you are all of the prototype weapons you and your colleagues have requested. Working with the Fuvuni, who are admittedly much better experts in the field of uranium and atomic based weapons systems, we’ve more or less finalized everything, and we’ll be holding the joint preliminary trials before we put them into full production very soon. “

Heikoru clapped his hands together. “Excellent. I’ll info-” he paused for a second. “Joint? You mean they’ll be there?”

“This is a combined effort development between the Hand of Xikanra Manufacturing Corporation and Fennesraum People’s Armory. They’ll be there to also observe and to collect data on the weapons designed specifically for their species. Obviously, a Kisian weapon is much too big for them to handle, and vice versa for ourselves. Speaking of….” Meitado briefly walked back around, typed some more commands, and an outline of a tank came into view. He talked with apparent pride evident in his voice.

“This is one such design. We created a vehicle that essentially induces criticality events to fire concentrated beams of irradiated energy at people. It would be great for area denial or to clear out buildings and other such areas before a general assault. We got the idea by-”

“You can spare me the more technical aspects of your weapons platform, Director. Just inform me of when it’ll be taking place and I’ll be there. I’m making final preparations to propose the formation proper of the Nuclear Cadre, and I need these results before I go before the Army Command to suggest such a thing.” He stood, beginning to take his leave.

“Soon, so very soon, I’ll be in command of the newest branch of the Combined Armies….” He said, trailing off in delight. He turned back to Meitado. “Sometimes, we don’t exactly see eye to eye. But I know you're a patriot in your own way. Do what needs to be done.”

Meitado raised the drink up while simultaneously doing a nod with his head, before downing the 2nd glass, and going back to sit at his desk to work on things.


Sometime later
Testing Range No. 4

Assembled at the range’s observation room was a small handful of researchers, a cadre of military officers led by Heikoru, as well as Meitado. They all were in quiet conversation as they watched what was the first of the final prototypes of the so-called ‘Atomic Railguns’ to be set up. Metado brought some displays up on screen.

“Gentlemen, being set up now is we are calling the Type 242 Uranium Anti-Material Rail-Rifle. It utilizes a depleted uranium penetrator round, which is encased in a magnetic sabot to assist in firing the round and in maintaining its accuracy over long ranges. Additionally, with the help the Concordat, we’ve made significant improvements in battery life compared to our older Type 174 Marksman Rail-Rifle.” Meitado stated, the assembled looking on at the various stats of the weapon, before turning back to the armored viewport overseeing the range.

A soldier came on over the radio. “Director, Type 242 Prototype 6 is ready for demonstration. Targets have been set up down range and safety measures have been disengaged.” Meitado made a hand motion to one of the researchers standing next to a comms panel, who flipped some switches, and the lights in the room turned a dull red, and a distant buzzing noise was heard.

“Zone is secured and testing alert has been sent to the greater station. We’re ready to proceed.” the same researcher stated.

“Excellent. The first targets are three Imperial-era warsuits. Deputy Commander, would you like to give the order to fire?” Meitado enquired. Heikoru nodded, stepping forward, accepting a headset that Meitado retrieved from his pocket, already configured.

“Firing authority has been granted to the Deputy Commander, stand-by!” the researcher barked into the comm unit.

Heikoru took a breath, before hitting a button on the headset. “Fire!” he shouted.

There was a flash of light and the screeching of crumpling metal as the round shot through all of it’s targets like butter, before eventually hitting several layers of reinforced metal and concrete. Everyone clapped as the weapon test went off without a hitch. While everyone in the observation room celebrated, on the range the now destroyed husks were removed, and different ones put in place.

“As you can see gentlemen, the Type 242 will be an excellent addition to our Arsenal of Democracy, with the uranium rounds giving increased ‘oomph’, if I do say so myself. Our next target will be some mockups of heavy tanks. After you, Deputy Commander.” Meitado stated.

Heikoru nodded. “Fire!”

Like before, there was a flash of light and the screeching of crumpling armor. This time however, the soldier operating the weapon fired off several shots in quick succession, showing the quickness and ease-of-use of the weapon. While the majority of the rounds fired off penetrated all the tanks, there were a few that didn’t, something that was reflected on the viewscreens in the observation room.

“Most of the rounds managed to penetrate all the tanks in the same general areas, as you can see on the screen there. Naturally, not every round will manage to do so, but considering these will be employed in units larger than one man, the volume of fire shall compensate for this. ” Meitado explained.

The room again broke into clapping and approval, as the prototype was removed from the room and the armored shutters in the observation room closed back. "As you can see gentlemen, this powerful weapon is just one of several we've developed. We will be ready to put them into full production within the next few months, for actual field testing against our enemies. I thank you for your time." Meitado turned and gave a deep bow, before one of the attendant researchers opened the door leading out of the chamber.
Last edited by Kisia on Sun Dec 30, 2018 7:06 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Fuvuni
Civil Servant
 
Posts: 9
Founded: Nov 09, 2010
Father Knows Best State

Postby Fuvuni » Sun Dec 30, 2018 7:34 pm

Weapons Testing Range #36, Kusachei
Yeisho-ju, Asankari Star Republic, Kisian League


The dry, cracked ground of the impromptu firing range was littered with thousands of pieces of scrap metal, burnt plastic, and the occasional pile of melted rubber fused with ash, an ephemeral testament to those assistants who had not heeded the warnings of the self-proclaimed ruler of the test site, one Doctor Rusknirri Yarkyx of Fennesraum, the chief scientist on loan to the Kisian League as part of the joint research initiative. The aforementioned fuvuni attempted to stand tall atop a nearby rock, her four foot, six inch frame failing absolutely at that task, the only thing visible as a group of heavily armored, hazmat-suit wearing kisians bustled about under her orders being her grey, green-tipped ears. And only those because the energetic vulpine alien was jumping up and down, her heavily accented Kisian squeaking every few seconds as she directed the research assistants to and fro until everything was to her satisfaction.

Finally with a dissonant whistle, all of the assisting kisians scattered to the four winds save one wearing a hazmat armored suit in bright orange, with a lieutenant’s ranking on his shoulders. He gave the doctor a thumbs up, his verbal response completely muffled by the various layers of headgear and filtering systems that were built into his helmet, as he stood by Prototype #6 of their attempts to build the Type-244 Directed Plutonium Particle Beam Cannon for the hybrid tank design.

Doctor Yarkyx stepped down off of her rock in order to go inspect the device, so that any errors today were the result of the design, and not installation-error. Her golden eyes looked out over a specialized rebreather fitted over her muzzle as she padded over to the weapon, idly brushing stray bits of gray fur off of her uniform jumpsuit.

It was a bulky thing, in its current state, still not yet miniaturized enough for deployment. The rings around the barrel, the gravitic accelerators, were still too large, too easy to spot from a distance with an anti-tank rifle. The fission generator that was currently powering the turret mechanism and the accelerators was also above weight and size for the kisian requirements, given their needs to be in specialized radiation-absorbing rubber suits in order to operate the device. Thankfully the criticality chamber of the neutron gun from hell was finally up to spec, the neutron-reflecting alloys finally at an acceptable thickness where supercritical events wouldn’t flash-fry the operators when it was put into a tank, yet light enough that it didn’t contribute overmuch to the overall weight of the weapon.

Her inspection complete, Rusknirri nodded to herself, deciding that the installation was adequate. Now it was time to do a power diagnostic. With a wave of her hand, the orange-clad lieutenant saluted and marched to the fission generator, following the extremely precise startup procedure for the miniature nuclear plant, the instructions of which he was currently reading as if they were proclamations from First Premier Taisvan himself. Probably a good thing, considering the last assistant who made a mistake in the startup procedure caused a minor meltdown that shut down range #25 for six months while the fennesraumian and kisian clean-up crews were busy trying to contain it and reclaim the materials.

Another salute from the lieutenant whose name she had not bothered to memorize indicated that the fission generator was online, and power was now flowing down the arm-thick cables and into the capacitors which charged the accelerator rings. A nod from her and the kisian hefted up the nuclear pit of the criticality chamber and inserted into the rear of the gun, closing and locking the hatch until the wheel was locked all the way to the right and the breech was completely sealed.

“Reading capacitors as charged, breech as sealed, and fission plant functioning at nominal capacity. Lieutenant, aim the cannon at target four, range four hundred meters.”

Another salute, and the turret began tracking, swiveling on its mount and pulling up slightly as the kisian dialed in the range, the capacitors dumping their energy into the accelerator rings, causing them to light up in a clockwise motion around the barrel.

“Fire.”

The lieutenant pulled the trigger, really a mechanism for releasing the pent up neutrons currently swirling around the dangerous nuclear core within the breech of the cannon, and a bright blue light could be seen emanating from microscopic fissures between the hatch and the chamber, a sign that the seal was imperfect. A moment later, the muzzle also began to glow, the end glowing blue from the radiation, the barrel itself glowing a light red from the heat. Then the accelerator rings pulsed, going completely dark as a bright blue beam issued form from the gun and impacted the target at incredible speeds.

The target, a mock-up of an old Imperial Kisian-era troop transport, briefly glowed a much brighter red before a great, gaping hole was torn in the center by the beam to the sound of thunder. Unfortunately for both the lieutenant and the good doctor, the loud noise was not entirely the sound of the particle beam hitting the target, but also one of the four accelerator rings exploding from overcharge and the barrel partially melting.

Thankfully, the safety cut-off activated properly this time, and the criticality chamber was closed without any further incidents, the only damage to the device itself being to the barrel and the gravitic manipulator rings.

Rusknirri bit back a curse, her boots kicking up dust as she walked over to the poor kisian research assistant, pulling him back up to his feet so he wasn’t stuck on the ground like an upended turtle waving his limbs around. She whistled three discordant tones through her rebreather, and a group of kisians wearing red hazmat suits sprayed down the entire gun, fission plant and all, with non-reactive coolant. Idly she leaned down, picking up a piece of once-molten slag and slipping it into her pocket before she stood up again.

“Well. Two of the accelerator rings are salvageable, the criticality chamber and fission generator are fine. Better than the last four tests. I shall go work on the alloys for the barrel once more, and perhaps a new blueprint, with more accelerators.”

As the kisians assigned to help her snapped to attention and moved to disassemble the half-melted slag that was the sixth prototype, Rusknirri stomped back to the prefab bunker that was her current ‘office’ at the moment, her tail flicking about in annoyance as she slipped inside the dark, half-buried set of repurposed shipping containers. She found herself staring at a wall of physical blueprints covered in notes, fingering the slag in her pocket as she began to mumble and mutter to herself, her eyes briefly glazing over as the skin of her palm touched the still-warm chunk of metal.

“Heat tolerance on the rings needs to be increased, perhaps a different alloy… No. The current alloy works, different layout. Perhaps a lattice? It needs better heat dispersal, otherwise functions well within parameters… Heat needs to be mitigated within the barrel more, would mitigate issues with the rings. Definitely needs an alloy change, fractures began to form before the heat began to melt the chamber. Very dangerous…”

Her eyes refocused and she growled to herself, heading to her workstation and sweeping all of its contents onto the floor as she put on her anti-smudge gloves and grabbed a pen, and got to work, her mutterings continuing for several hours as she began to refine Prototype #7 in order to send it off to those in charge of manufacturing her experimental weapon systems.

Her minders and assistants knew better than to interrupt her while she was focused, the only interruptions as she furiously scribbled, carving new lines into the table, being the orange-clad lieutenant from before, briefly waddling in and leaving a tray of tea, dried fruits, and smoked fish before excusing himself once more, not to be seen until the next mealtime. During a few brief moments of lucidity, Doctor Yarkyx even allowed herself a few bites of food while chugging down the tea before resuming her work.

Finally, six hours later, it was finished, and Rusknirri collapsed at the table, asleep, most of her dinner untouched, and the unnamed lieutenant walked in once more, gingerly sliding the blueprint out from underneath the exhausted fuvuni in order to pass it up the chain to the fabrication engineers.




Haideng shook his head underneath the full-body radiation suit he was forced to wear around the weapon testing site. Wrangling the alien scientist was almost as bad as trying to manage some of the workaholics he knew back home. Although at least the doctor could actually be pried away from her work in order to eat on occasion before working herself to exhaustion.

And, the kisian thought to himself, sending technology samples to the Home Office is significantly easier to do when she works herself unconscious.

While the ‘ion rifles’ were effective in their own way, the alien crystal’s energies boiling flesh such that targets appeared to explode from the inside out, they were a touch too grotesque in how they functioned, being the larval form of some rock-alien from the Concordat attached to a rifle stock. Still, the crystals themselves could be useful in creating better laser lenses and capacitors, and having a few boxes shipped to a separate testing facility was trivial. He half suspected that it was intentional on the Concordat's part, though the whys behind it were as yet beyond him.

His secondary objective in plumbing the depths of Doctor Yarkyx’s mind, on the other hand, left much more to be desired. The small fuvuni woman bounced around from project to project, her notes only half-legible, often referencing concepts beyond him, or seemingly unrelated to the topic of the notes themselves. He half-suspected that the good doctor was more than a little mad, with the way she seemed to intuit problems in her prototypes simply by laying her ears on them for a moment while muttering to herself and tapping them.

It was cause for worry to the Home Office, as they desired to know her ultimate motivations in order to better predict her, should the unthinkable occur and the Concordat and the League went to war. Knowing the mind of one of their great thinkers would allow for a small manner of predicting possible weapons that could be developed during the conflict.

The kisian sighed to himself as he reached his tent, rummaging through his belongings in the lead case assigned to him, pulling out his bulky personal computer. He wouldn’t be sending back a report just yet, so there was no need to attach the communicator module, but there was still some information he needed to add from today’s test.

It was a lengthy process, booting up the computer in the secure mode, rather than the one that he used as a ‘lab assistant’. Three of the language-dials had to be turned to a precise setting to first activate the secure operating system, and then turned to another before said operating system was in any way legible to any dialect of kisian, and the power-on sequence was likewise significantly different. It was, in ways, more of a physical combination lock than anything else, with encryption relying heavily on the myriad dialects and sub-languages of Kastia and its colonies. As a distinct bonus, he could very easily render everything he was typing completely illegible to any living kisian with the flick of a button, which made it rather easy to compile reports in public.

Even on the off-chance the individual wasn’t familiar with the faux-dialect that would result from the collision of two obscure, dead versions of the language, they weren’t likely to make a fuss and simply assume it was some dialect from a rural area they were unfamiliar with.

A foreigner attempting to decipher it would simply be bashing their heads against a wall of linguistic complexity.

The sound of rushing feet and metal groaning against metal forced Haideng to look up from his work, seeing that his superior in name, if not in spirit, was once again awake, leaving a trail of spent energy supplement drinks behind her as she once again barked orders at the various menials who were assigned to the testing area. At best she might have gotten four hours of rest. Not enough time for a proper recharge, but just enough for the first productions of her new engineering requests to be done and ready.

He didn’t want to say she got any sleep as he was quite certain she would still wake up in fits and bursts, taking notes while half-awake.

At this rate he was going to have to slip sedatives into her food in order to keep her from literally working herself to death. He wondered what could give her such a drive, that she cared so little about her own safety, as his eyes followed her as she set up the newest iteration of the weapon she had been working on. This would be number seven, if he recalled rightly.

She seemed even more demanding and on-edge than usual, though that could be the lack of sleep.

His eyes watched as she, with practiced motions now, began directing the assembly of Prototype #7, the new barrel slotting into place along with all of the other new parts. He noted with some curiosity the accelerator rings had been changed slightly, flatter, but wider now. Not at the numbers she had requested in the changes to the blueprints, but from what he recalled she was going to be testing the design itself on how it handled heat, first, before adding more to compensate. Miniaturizing the design to the specs desired would take some manner of time, as well.

He very quickly had to take his eyes off her and the other lieutenant assigned to her, however, when the corner of his eyes caught the fluttering of the cape of the customized radiation-suit of the Deputy Commander, and shortly after that, the specially marked suit of the Director himself. Twitch-worthy fashion choices of the veteran aside, it meant that Haideng had to very quickly switch his computer over to its normal operation mode and look busy working on reports to the Director, rather than the Home Office. One as old as he might just be able to decipher what he was typing, regardless of linguistic encryption. Always better to be safe rather than sorry, after all.

As he was leaning over the bulky machine, twisting dials and properly setting it to civilian mode in a manner that most definitely was not percussive maintenance, his eyes caught another flash of movement.

Doctor Rusknirri Yarkyx, one of the most ruthlessly work-minded individuals he had ever had the pleasure to work for, was smiling. More than that, her tail was moving from side to side. It was like one of those human 'dogs' would do, zipping back and forth along with the fuvuni, as she began to very animatedly explain the processes of the prototype weapon system to the Director and Deputy Commander.

The only time he could ever recall the doctor being so excited about anyone was when a Vipran dignitary had visited, inquiring on some of the developments. In fact, the way she was looking at the old war veteran was very similar to the exuberant adoration the atoran had received.

The young kisian stopped as the final thought crossed his head, before he looked once more at the fuvuni, then to Heikoru, then back again.

No.

It couldn't be that simple, could it?
[14:01] Vipra invades Feaz and uses his women to bring fertility to the crops, and men to bring fertility to the people
[14:04] Vipra : Also, invading Feaz would make me sad
[14:05] Vipra: because he has a gender skew
[14:05] Vipra: which means that there aren't as many women to flay and turn into wineskins ; - ;
[14:07] Sifus is pretty sure that if he sigs that, it would apply to every nation Vipra has ever made.
[14:07] Vipra: lol

"I want to live in a galaxy where the Fuvs are a majority species." - Auman

Most loyal vassal of Vipra

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Kisia
Diplomat
 
Posts: 966
Founded: Jul 19, 2009
Moralistic Democracy

Postby Kisia » Sat Jan 12, 2019 2:50 am

Directors Office

Meitado always had a slight discomfort dealing with his superiors. They were fine individuals, just- a tad too zealous in their devotion to Xikanra, Celestial Forgemaster. Dogma proclaimed he was one of the children of the Heavenly Emperor, crafted from the strongest metals, with a steel facemask with an unchanging expression.

Many in the Manufactory had taken the devotion of their patron god to a cult like status- simply called the Cult Xikanra, which had only gained traction in the past years, to where many had shed the “flesh of weakness” in favor of the “strength of steel”. The cult following was particularly strong amongst the leadership, to the point where the line between “corporate entity” and “religious organization” had been blurred to the point where the Hand of Xikanra was essentially one and the same- a company and religious following of sorts, devoted to one of the many major gods of the Kisians.

Directors were generally expected to begin undergoing the process of ‘Illumination’, the total conversion from man to cyborg; though Meitado had held off for some time. Increasingly, he wondered if he ever would- perhaps for promotional reasons, as the entire senior leadership of the company was more steel than flesh, if he ever wished to ascend any higher in the company hierarchy, he’d need to eventually join the ranks of the Illuminated.

Meitado was snapped out of his thoughts by a buzzing and the sudden activation of a holographic projector. A hooded figure came into focus. Nothing was visible, save the three softly pulsing red eyes arranged in a triangular pattern in the upper center of the hood. Meitado made the Sigil of the Forge, balling his left hand into a fist, his right hand extending vertically, then placing his right hand over his left in the center of his chest.

Hēshachuo. Kuimata i Xikanra, ketabujo.” Meitado said, saying the words in a rhythmic, trance-like motion.

Kuimata i Xikanra, yekechenjo.” The hooded figure replied in a deep augmented voice. Meitado bowed and tapped a button on a wrist device he was wearing. He jerked slightly and continued to speak- though now he spoke in the enlightened tongue of the Illuminated, a mixture of technical terms, scientific jargon, and pure machine code. The esoteric ‘language’ wasn’t designed for non-Manufactory individuals to hear, nonetheless understand.

“Update requested, assembly of weapons.” the hooded figure continued.

“Optimal. Weaponcraft is proceeding at acceptable paces, full completion of weapons is expected within the next several cycles.”

“Elation. Update requested, weaponcraft of Fennesraum outsiders.”

“Presumed acceptable, personal assessment will be done within the next quarter-cycle. Detailed report following assessment.”

“Satisfactory. Update expected within next five full cycles. Termination of transmission.”

Kuimata i Xikanra.” Meitado replied once more, making the same sigil again.

Sometime later
en route to Kusachei

Meitado had forgotten to inform the Deputy Commander that augmented members would be accompany them on the trip to observe the field tests of the Fennesraum weapons. He barely suppressed a grin as the aged military officer had a look of abject confusion and horror at some of his compatriots, dressed in robe-like garments, with cords and hoses arranged in patterns all over their bodies in a combination of flesh and steel. Some were even so far augmented that parts of their face had been replaced with polished metal and presumably photoreceptors for eyes, a gentle red pulse emanating from them. The Deputy Commander seemed particularly offput by his chief engineer, whose “legs” were actually a combination of metallic-tentacle like devices with grasping elements. The Chief Engineer looked back at Heikoru. If he had any sort of emotion, it was impossible to tell.

“I am sensing you are distraught Deputy Commander. Are you feeling an onset of shuttle sickness? It is advised that individuals suffering from-” the cyborg started, before Heikoru interrupted him.

“N-no. When do we land? I’m eager to see the other weapons, that’s all.”

“We will make landfall within one half-cycle.”

“In layman's terms, please.” Heikoru replied, slightly agitated.

“A less accurate approximation would be twenty-five minutes.”

“Thank you.” Heikoru said, catching himself before he muttered a curse- he was sure most of the damned clanks in the room would hear him anyways. It was silent for a moment, then the chief engineer started barking in some ungodly gibberish that sounded like numbers and static, with the faintest trace of actual words. He shot a death glare at Meitado, who simply shrugged and pressed a button on his wrist device- then began speaking in the same damnable tone as the rest of them.

“Heaven preserve me, I don’t know where I am anymore…” Heikoru thought.

“I detect slight animosity from the Deputy Commander. Is he okay, Director?” the Chief Engineer spoke.

“He is unaccustomed to being around augmented, like many others.” Meitado replied.

“The ignorant fear the more perfect form.” another augmented officer chimed in.

“Annoyance. Enough. We have a job to do. While touring the Fennesraum facility, you are to catalogue items and devices of interest for further analyzation.” Meitado stated

“To acquire knowledge for the good of Kisians.” the Chief Engineer stated.

“Yes, and to further advance our technology beyond the Imperium and their mystical Vishyari.” someone else chimed in.

“Indeed.” Meitado replied.

“Elation. We will surpass them in time.”




Weapons Testing Range #36, Kusachei

The rest of the trip was uneventful, and eventually the group landed at the surface-side facility that the Fuvuni were using to test their weapons. Kusachei was a dead world, it’s surface was highly radioactive. It made an excellent place to source material for the weapons, as well as being the natural habitat of the small fennec weaponsmiths.

Unfortunately for the Kisians, they had no such immunity to the lethal amounts of radiation on this world, hence Meitado and Heikoru arrived in heavy powered radsuits. Meitado’s was in a dark purple and white color, with stylistic markings of the Cult Xikanra adorning it. This contrasted with Heikoru’s, which was in an olive drab color- even with a matching half-cloak like his usual uniform had. Four diamonds adorned the upper right breastplate, as well as another four running vertically down the top of the helmet.

The Chief Engineer was essentially a heavily armor plated robot, and continued as is. Heikoru now wished the rest of them were like him, considering how they were ‘visiting’. The other individuals had chosen a…. less orthodox method. While they were all sure their half-steel bodies could withstand some exposure to radiation, it was considered best not to take the chance.

Their bodies had been placed into cold storage on the lander, while their heads “detached” from the rest of them, wearing heavily plated face-masks in the unerring visage of Xikanra. The rest of their heads were also covered in reinforced plating. Adding to the oddity was a tracked robot of sorts, carrying a large armored tank, which contained vital nutrients for the detached heads to nourish their brains with, in the absence of being attached to their bodies proper. A few of them flitted around in the general presence of the nutrient tank, while others were more content to stay attached to the various ports on the tank and let the robot do the “heavy lifting” as it were.

The collection of men, cyborgs, and armored flying heads made their way to the actual testing range, the latter two talking in deep pitched binary screaming the entire way. Meitado simply reassured Heikoru that it’d be over soon, while Heikoru himself deactivated his actual external speaker and yelled curses, a slight audible muffle coming from the heavily plated suit. Eventually, they saw Doctor Rusknirri herself, the two walking over to her; the Chief Engineer excused himself to talk with who appeared to be the senior kisian working alongside the fuvuni, and the heads all at once detached themselves and flew from the nutrient robot, flying around the facility screeching in their esoteric language observing and scanning everything.

“Please, excuse my more technical colleagues. They’re very interested to see what has developed in the past few months of our shared development program.” Meitado said, an awkward chuckle escaping him. He gestured to Heikoru.

“This is Deputy Commander Keisage Heikoru of the Asankirian State Army. He’s the primary interest in this project. The Deputy Commander wishes to form a new military unit for the League, hence his interest in how everything is proceeding.” Meitado stated.

“The honor is mine.” Heikoru said, doing a brief bow of his head- as best he could in the armored suit. “As the Director has stated, I’ve come to see developments and trials of the various weapons we’ve created as a result of this partnership. My superiors are eager to see if this adventure has born fruit- as am I. With these weapons a new elite unit of warriors will be formed, ready to defend the League from all aggressors.” Heikoru continued, slightly unnerved at what was going on behind him. The chief engineer skittered over to the trio.

“We are pleased to be here, will the testing be commencing soon?” He said, a hint of what could actually be described as anticipation in his voice.

“Perhaps it would be best to begin the demonstrations.” Meitado said, doing a brief bow to Rusknirri.
Member of TSAR

Kisian Newsthread
Factbook of the Kisian League

LadyRadarEars: I forgot what Kisian ships are powered by
Crypt: unfiltered nationalism

Daimler-Benz: The League is literally just 'Have War Crimes, Will Travel'

Zuulman: Kisia is my spirit animal.

Daimler-Benz: There's spilling blood and dragging an inflatable kiddy pool around with you to drain your enemies' jugulars into so that you might be able to swim in it

Devee: Kisian children's ideas of games are using worn out artillery pieces left around from constant clan warfare to play ‘lob unexploded ordnance at the neighbour kids’


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