NATION

PASSWORD

The Ascension of the Imperium IC (All Tech, TG for interest)

A staging-point for declarations of war and other major diplomatic events. [In character]

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Keepers of the Sanctum
Civil Servant
 
Posts: 8
Founded: Mar 22, 2020
Psychotic Dictatorship

Postby Keepers of the Sanctum » Wed May 13, 2020 4:10 am

Fane of the Forgiver



The unmistakable rhythm of Keeper chanting rang out throughout the whole temple, permeating through every room and corridor. The central chamber housed dozens of sprints, suspended midair, singing ancient hymns in harmonious unison. Though there were two missing, absent from the chorus. They could be found in a room close to where the rest of the congregation was gathered. Both in their canticle-singing forms, they were delayed from what had originated as a simple conversion that had turned into a protracted discussion. They argued with each other for some time, missing the cantillation ritual entirely. There were two of them, distinct entities, one colored scarlet, the other turquoise, each shining with a vibrant and luminous glow which was customary for Keepers while in their invocation-giving configuration. They argued for some time, growing passionate and zealous in their attempts to reason with the other. Though it seemed the cyan one had lost its resolve, and began to falter in confidence of its position. This was noticed by the cerise one, who sought to deliver a final blow to the crumbling resolve of its opponent. It gleamed as it spoke, radiating with intense and concentrated energy. "Your hesitation is unfounded. We have discovered relics from interactions with alien species before, you all of all should know this. Why not simply make contact with the machines, if only to see what they know of the divine nature, and discern if they are aware of where potential relics may lie? What is the source of your reluctance?" The Legate looked up, seemingly snapping out of a trance. In truth he was now in total agreement with the Acquirer, though his thoughts dwelled on who he knew was most certainly not. He was privy to the peculiar bond that existed between the two, how it may cloud his judgment. Though he knew of their recent falling out, and then had a renewed faith in his master to make the right decision, the one of reason. For wasn't he not the brightest and most sensible of them all? "I myself am not hesitant, nor reluctant toward your proposal. For I concur with your reasoning. We should indeed establish contact with the constructs, find out what they know. See if they may be of some use to us."

Upon hearing this, the Acquirer seemed pleased, his form no longer pulsating with the fiery incandescent glow which frequently flared up when he was aggravated. He spoke of how content he was now that his friend was finally making some sort of sense. The Legate was happy as well, satisfied that he had indeed made the perceived right decision in siding with the Acquirer. The pair then ceased berating one another, and proceeded to move away from tiresome politics and told stories of their long and eventful past with each other. Laughter emanated from the room, as they exchanged stories of the past, reflecting on days and friends long gone. Though they were soon to be interrupted by a chorister who entered the room they were in, and informed the two of the ritual's end. Both Keepers glared at the chorister, then back at themselves. They were late. The Legate thanked the subordinate, who departed upon being dismissed. It appeared they had lost track of time within their lengthy discussion and were already late for the meeting in the Arboretum. And now that they were in agreement with another, both would depart knowing they could rely on each other if called to question on their position without having to defend themselves alone. They departed immediately, yet the travel to the meeting place took some time, and after awhile of traversing through space, they came across then upon the forested paradise. Not that either of them considered it as such, though. Rather they saw it as the miserable home of a useless being which possessed too much influence with the Precant, influence which would better be wielded by either of them. This envious outlook was in part overcome however by their appreciation for the place's remarkable beauty, which even they couldn't fully dismiss. The pair descended onto the world, not before transforming into corporal forms, which were more or less required while visiting this venue. They were granted entry into a colossal tree-like structure which loomed imposingly over the rest of the greenery, and began the long trek to the main chamber where the conference was said to be held. Winding stairways and countless hallways had to be traversed without use of teleportation, seemingly as a sign of reverence toward the inhabitants of this timbered edifice. Such caused great annoyance to the Legate and Acquirer, and even the beautiful allure of the scenery there could not mitigate their shared vexation.

The Arboretum


Fallen petals and leaves littered the floor of the hall. Vines hung a strewn about the walls and ceiling of the place, their twisted and knotted contortions blooming with vibrantly colored flowers. A fair, sweet, and familiar smell emitted from the many blossoms, casting a pleasant aroma over the place. On the other side of the hall, a large opening was carved out of the wall and one could look right through the bark, out to the immense forest below. It seemed to go on endlessly, stretching about the whole of the world. Though the view would be slightly obscured by long hanging vines which ran down the opening, hinting at the exterior of the structure being covered with them, much like as it was on the inside. From the opening a sharp and cool air blew into the interior of the place, causing flower petals and leaves to detach from the mass of verdure and flutter about for a moment, before descending down onto the ground. So too did the intrusive gusts of wind from the outside cause the foliage upon the ground to swirl around their resting place, as well as upon the feet of a lone man who stood in the middle of the corridor, peering out the aperture. The man's eyes were fixed upon a far-off lake glistening in the sunlight, nestled within the dense forest below. His fair hair blew freely in the breeze. It was unclear what he was thinking whilst staring at the lake, though whatever thoughts he dwelled on, they were soon to be interrupted by the approach of two more men making their way down the winding corridor. The first man remained looking out the opening, unmoving. The two newcomers, the Legate and Acquirer, halted before him, and bowed their heads in graceful unison. After this, the Legate spoke first.

"We were delayed by an especially passionate cantillation being concluded long after its expected time. It was not our intent to detain you, yet departing from an invocation before its end is considered to be sacrilegious, usually punishable by - " The speaker was then abruptly interrupted by the first man, who spoke while still staring out at the distant lake. The Legate had lied, a bold move, yet that was not what the man was concerned with. "I am well aware of the offense for leaving a ritual before its conclusion. Though when I send for someone, they are expected to forfeit all other present engagements and come straight to me." The man speaking would then cease staring out the window and look directly at the men who stood before him. "In a timely manner." The Legate and Acquirer then suddenly tensed up, quickly growing apprehensive. Though they were soon allayed when the first man smiled, and spoke in a more convivial tone. "No matter. Come along now, we're expected." He then turned and walked away, briskly traversing down the hall. The Legate and his companion hurriedly strode to catch up with him. The trio made their way down the long corridor, frequently stepping upon the fallen foliage that lied on the wooden ground. An opening to another room could be seen at the end of the hall, from whence a bright yellow light shined. After a short pause, the first man strutted through the entryway, and was overcome by the light. The trailing men hastily pursued him.

Upon entering the next room, and after adjusting to the newfound brightness, the men continued on their way, crossing an unsettlingly unstable bridge which lay over one of two streams that ran through the chamber. This place was vast and expansive, quite opposed to the series of narrow hallways the group had previously been in. Its walls of bark had been carved into, with huge whittled-out shapes letting a generous amount of sunlight into the environment. It appeared that dirt had been brought in to fill up much of the space, as the ground of the chamber was grassy, and supported many trees and shrubs. Much like the corridors leading to it, this room was covered in vegetation, from the many trees jutting from its soft soil, to the dense thickets of vines which clasped to its walls and roof. Though here were also plants previously yet unseen from any other parts of the structure. These were huge and fairly alien in their features, too glowing with a bright luminous shine, the very light which had been seen spilling out onto the hall. The peculiar radiating plants stood close to the banks of two rumbling brooks, their roots eagerly soaking up the nutrients which the waters provided. These streams entered the place by a set of waterfalls placed far back within the room, which originated from an unseen source.

At the point where the streams almost touched, there was an especially sizable tree, which had its roots in both brooks. Its base had been carved into, and within the hollow there appeared to be a seat, though its was nearly indistinguishable from the rest of the wood. Two figures rested upon it, within each other's loving embrace. A man and a women, both young and beautiful. The three men from before ambled up toward the two, climbing up a grassy hill thriving with flowers to get to them. Once the visitors made it to the space between the two streams, the enthroned couple ceased fixating on each other's faces and looked at the three men before them with newly blank expressions. The man in the lead of the group stepped forward, and addressed the pair. "Hortulan, it has been some time since we have met in person." One of the duo, the woman, responded genially. "It has, Precant. Know how it is indeed a pleasure to be graced by your presence." Seemingly just as the woman finished speaking, the man seated aside her also offered a reply. "Welcome to our abode, Legate and Acquirer." The two men flanking the Precant bowed together upon being addressed.

After a period of awkward silence, both members of the Hortulan laid their eyes upon the Precant, directing their full attention toward him. A breeze blew then into the chamber, rustling many trees and bushes. After it had passed, the woman again spoke. "We assume you are not here to simply catch up with us. What, may we ask, is the purpose of your visit?" The man smirked, then turned away and began pacing about on the isle. He talked while not directly looking at the Hortulan, much to their irritation. In his hand he held an indigo blossom, and he twirled its green stem between his fingers as he responded. "Well, I was recently approached by a group of disciples who had discovered a distant realm comprised of machine-creatures. I initially thought little of it, though these devotees proved quite persistent in their attempt to persuade me to sanction a diplomatic mission with the constructs, reciting to me the old tedious point of how through cooperation with them, we could possibly discover relics in their territory, and the rest. Though I was still unconvinced, seeing as these creatures are entirely temporal, lacking any sort of understanding of things celestial." The Precant was then himself interrupted by the Hortulan's male component, who remarked how the machines' ignorance of things ethereal indeed invalidated any need of association with them.

Halting his pacing after this interruption, the Precant held up the flower to his nose, and savored the honeyed scent. The ambience of the environment was then the only thing heard for a time, the sound of the tumultuous waters of the brooks and waterfalls, baying wind, and the susurration of vegetation all permeated throughout the hollow chamber. During this break from speech, the Acquirer exchanged a concerned look at the Legate, who in turn gave one of worry. It had appeared that despite the Acquirer's best efforts to persuade him, the Precant still did not agree with his proposal. The Legate, having sided with the Acquirer in this matter, began doubting his own judgment. Both members of the Hortulan took this break in the meeting to hold each other's hand, appearing confident in the presence of their opponents. After some time had passed, the Precant put down the blossom, and spoke again, in the same amiable tone from before. "But perhaps there is something we are missing about them, something hidden from first glance. The Blissful Union did not intend to make the path to the Ascension a straightforward one. Perhaps these constructs posses knowledge which can help us along the way. Their unique mechanical disposition could hold some secrets unknown to organic life. There is a precedent for this, we have gathered useful information from constructs in the past. And there still is the possibility of relics being located in their domain, whether they know of them or not." The Hortulan was growing increasingly unpleased, though it had to conceal its frustration, lest it appear weak. They knew exactly who led these devotees the Precant spoke of, the very imbeciles which stood cowering behind their master now. Pathetic. They then began to analyze the two men, intending to speak with one of them in an effort to divert the discussion away from the Precant. Unease was detected from the Legate, and they sensed great pain within him. The Acquirer was oppositely quite content, pleased in discovering that the Precant had agreed with him after all. Identifying the former as the weaker in resolve, the Hortulan directed their response toward him. "And Legate? Surely you possess thoughts on this matter?"

The Keeper Legate's thoughts lay elsewhere as he stood silently behind the Precant. Memories of the past, brought back from the void, began haunting him. The main chamber's environment had summoned memories of an earlier and simpler time in his life. Though he knew where these thoughts led, so he tried desperately to forget them. Much to his dismay, however, he could not. So instead he attempted to conceal his despair from his surroundings, his temporal body remaining calm while his mind raced to the dispel the painful and intrusive memories which afflicted it. Despite his best efforts however, they were growing in both number and intensity. As he held off their advances with failing strength, the Legate was surprised when the unsuppressed memories began merging together into something. What they created was something which radiated warmth and passion, a feeling of great intimacy. This emotion then started shifting into an image: a face. The Legate stood mystified as he tried to recognize it. It was young, full of life, undoubtedly beautiful, though most of all it was familiar. He'd seen it before, in visions like this, though as well as somewhere and sometime else. As he attempted to recognize it, the face smiled, then it shattered into a thousand pieces before disappearing entirely. The Legate was then gripped with great pain, but soon he would recover from it, for this had afflicted him before, and he knew how to endure it. Such was the unfortunate result of every encounter with her, though still he sought to see more visions such as this one, driven by a profound longing and yearning desire. Within his mind, the Legate found himself now completely alone, the memories and thoughts that were just afflicting him had vanished. Everything now was silent, and after what had just happened, he welcomed the tranquility. Though it was abruptly broken when he heard a voice call out to him, and suddenly he found himself staring at another face, though this time it wasn't her, but the Hortulan.

"Of course. I am of the belief that the mentioned race of constructs could potentially prove useful to us. Through simple contact with them, as well as other nations they themselves have relations with, it is possible that we could attain hidden relics or gain greater insight into things that we may now consider to be irrelevant, though which may indeed posses knowledge which could propel ourselves further along the path to transcendence, as said by the Precant." The Hortulan had intentioned to catch him off guard by singling him out in while he was distracted, and was irked when he responded in a coherent and reasoned manner. The Legate wiped sweat from his brow, and looked to his friend that stood aside him, who smiled then nodded toward him. He had come through. Silence then again filled the chamber, as all waited for the Precant to continue the discussion. He did so after facing the Hortulan, looking them right into their eyes. "It is a personal issue that troubles you, isn't it? You despise them, on account of their position against organic life. I hold them in a similar disdain. Know that they mean nothing to me aside from the chance that they could prove beneficial to us. Surely even you can see their potential usefulness." The two seated upon the bark throne appeared visually angry, and one of them responded with a spiteful tone that corrupted his usual soothing voice.

"They are abominations: soulless, without compassion or any sense of morality. Their hostility toward natural life is an affront to Adtherion itself. How are you oblivious to this? They despise its creation, of which we charge ourselves with representing! We should not cooperate with this evil, but rather work to destroy it!" The Legate and Acquirer were surprised with what they had said, and eagerly anticipated the Precant's response. Though they were surprised when he instead faced them, and glanced at the Acquirer. He then understood, knowing exactly what to say. After taking a small step forward, he replied in a dulcet and calm manner. "These machines have just waged a war of expansion against much of the known universe, and we believe that they will be unable to prevail against their many enemies. They shall soon be eradicated. So your desire shall come true, without the need for Keeper intervention." Both members of the Hortulan leaned back in their shared throne, taken aback about what had just been said. It was clear that they had not known of the war which the Acquirer spoke of. Was it a lie? Or had they not followed the matter as closely as they had first thought? Whatever the case, the Hortulan found itself becoming increasingly weary of this whole conversation. It pondered if the matter at hand was really worth its time, and if it should continue in its defiance. Ultimately determining this affair to be beneath it, they decided to relinquish their opposition to the proposal. For above all the Hortulan desired to be alone, out from the tiresome presence of the fools gathered before it, especially him. And they took at least a little solace in the fact that the abominations would soon be destroyed, if the Acquirer spoke true, that is. The Precant smiled as it waited for the Hortulan's surrender. The Legate and Acquirer grinned as well, happy to at last have triumphed over this most persistent opponent.

"Knowing of their imminent demise pleases us greatly. With this new information, we see no reason left to oppose you. We hope your mission is met with success, and that the Order benefits well from it." Hollow words of course, though the Hortulan still felt humiliated as it spoke them. The Precant was nonetheless pleased, and accepted their capitulation. Farewells were exchanged, then the three visitors departed. As they left, the two composite entities of the Hortulan then again laid eyes on each other, then embraced. They were pleased the dreadful meeting was finally over. This feeling was shared with the Legate and his Acquirer friend, and they both left it satisfied that their side had won out. The Precant seemed content in its conclusion, as well. Having to again traverse a long distance to get out of the structure, the trio embarked on the trek out in silence. The meeting had taken longer than expected, and now the sun was in its setting. Orange light shone through the carved-out symbols in the wall, and it bathed the ground with an illuminating glow. As the group was passing over the bridge that had led them into the main chamber, the Precant tossed the flower in his hand into the stream below, uncaringly. In the silence of the departure, the memory of the vision from earlier suddenly came back to the Legate, and he shuddered as a sharp pain stung his very soul. Though soon it passed, and he was able to continue walking without either of his companions noticing what had happened. His thoughts again dwelled on her, but they were immediately suppressed. He would peruse the vision's content later. Now was not the time, for there was work to do. The Precant guided his followers from the main chamber out into the hall where they had first met up. At the very spot where he had been standing before, the man abruptly stopped, then turned to face the two trailing men. "It would be best if you both go, for it seems you work well enough together. Have one of you handle the talking, while the other searches for relics. And if you meet other groups or entities while there, see if they can be of some use. The constructs can only provide so much information by themselves, and other forces may prove to be more enlightening. Also keep an eye out for any suspected candidates of a Kindred race, as well."

The Precant then craned his neck aside, and again peered out the aperture. His eyes quickly came upon the lake that he appeared to be drawn to. It was more beautiful than before, as the setting sun now rested upon its reflective waters as a shining orange orb sitting on a glimmering blue blanket. He stood unmoving for some time as he relished the scenic sunset. His disciples exchanged confused glances, neither knowing what to do next. Their leader then spoke again, breaking the silence. "Unfortunately, you both seem to be relatively unacquainted with constructs, having not interacted with many before. This could prove troublesome. So I recommend you bring along someone who is experienced with machines." He paused, then looked right at them both. "You know of whom I speak." Much to their dismay, the Legate and Acquirer did indeed know of them. They distraughtly wondered why it had to be him, why not some other Keeper. Neither of them knew him very well, though they were aware of the many stories and legends that surrounded him. Now that he was in the fray, things would be much more difficult. For he was a variable they had uncounted for. Though the Precant had willed it, and so it was to be. The pair stood silently awaiting more orders, yet none came. When the Precant, again gazing out the window, extended his arm toward the direction of the end of the hall, both Legate and Acquirer knew it was time to leave. With one last bow, they continued on the way out without their master. As they approached the doorway to the downward set of stairwells, one final order from the Precant stopped them dead in their tracks. "Oh, and be sure not to come back emptyhanded."

What a strange, if not terrifying goodbye. The price for failure was indeed severe, and motivated them to aim for success more than any good wishes could have. Both Keepers paused and fearfully anticipated further instructions, but would give up after a few tense speechless moments. They then proceeded down the many sets of stairs, descending out of the Arboretum. Every flight was proceeded down in silence, for both were in deep contemplation. The last series of orders given to them would greatly complicate things, as well as considerably delay the mission. First they would have to seek him out. Such would not technically be difficult, for they knew where he dwelled. Though getting him to even speak with them might prove difficult, not to mention convincing him to join them on the operation. It was doubtful that he knew them, so they'd have to introduce themselves then explain the mission to him. They were relived in the thought that he couldn't flatly reject or ignore them, yet still it might take awhile for him to speak with them. Despite all this uncertainty, one thing was for sure: there was much talking ahead of them. The Legate liked to talk however, especially with new people. He was the official diplomat of the Order and all. But the Acquirer was more used to barking orders at subordinates than chatting. And they'd both need to be able to speak as a coordinated pair for this operation, in getting the old sentinel to join them, as well as conversing with this mechanoid empire, and any other entities they might encounter on the way. This is most likely why the Precant had assigned them both of them to go, for they were old friends and worked well together. So too had they represented the Order in foreign missions before, though this was mainly a way for the Legate to give his friend something to do outside the temple, as well as providing him a respite from the tiresome searching and acquisition of relics, which was the Acquirer's primary responsibility in the Sanctum.

Oblation Mount


When they finally were down onto the forested ground and out of the Arboretum, the pair then began speaking to each other. First they decided where they should go next, determining that the nearby temple of Oblation Mount would fulfill their needs. Ascending upward to the sky, the Keepers proceeded into space, sailing the cosmic winds for a time until they reached their destination. Their approach had been noticed by the cenobites that were stationed at the temple, who then contacted the visitors, informing them to land at a shrine suspended atop a mountain. This was acknowledged by the pair, who turned from their current path and descended onto the planet, making landfall at the specified site. The shrine rested at the peak of craggy mountain, and snow drizzled onto its ancient structures as a wintry tempest lumbered into the range. The Legate and Acquirer transformed into their canticle-giving forms, and then were greeted by the prelate of the temple, the Keeper Offeror. His golden form seemed to radiate with starlight in an impressive display, outshining the entourage of disciples that flanked him, as well as the Legate and Acquirer. He welcomed the two visitors, and invited them inside. Everyone floated into the temple, traversing through the hollowed-out corridors which ran through the mountain range. They conversed while on the move, and the Offeror was informed that their stay was only temporary, for they had been given an assignment by the Precant. He understood, and gave the two a chamber to do their work in during their short stay. The Legate thanked him, then the ascetics departed, disappearing into the bowels of the structure. While in their new office, the Legate conversed with the Acquirer over small details and subtleties of the mission, as well as putting together with him a more broad plan of action. First, they'd send out a message to the constructs, and while they waited for a reply, they would then seek out the old sentinel and recruit him. Once he was privy to all the pertinent information, and upon receiving coordinates for a meeting place, the trio would set out for the machines' territory. The hard part, it seemed, would be when they arrived at their destination, though they both long prepared for this, and now perceived themselves ready to handle any unexpected possibilities that might happen while on this assignment.

Wishing to put his writing skills to the test, the Acquirer departed the makeshift office to go draft up a message to send the machines. This left the Legate alone. He tried to focus on his given mission, but he had already discussed it at length and was frankly tired of thinking about it. Going into a reflective mood, he began addressing some questions that he had about the day's earlier proceedings. Like why the Precant, the head of the Order, had spent a considerable amount of time trying to get the a subordinate to agree with him regarding the proposal. Why didn't he just demand it support his decision with the authority he wielded so intimidatingly? Such would have been done if it were him in the Hortulan's place, or practically any other Keeper. Then he recalled the bond that existed between them. It was a peculiar relationship, shrouded in secrecy, though most higher-ranking Keepers knew of it, and were aware that it had been recently impaired. Yet when it was strong, and even after it had seemingly broken, the Precant still held them in a high regard, valuing their thoughts on things as well as frequently taking advise from them. This feeling was not mutual however, and the Hortulan appeared to hold him in disdain. Pondering about this, a particular inquiry concerned the Legate. Was today's meeting an attempt by the Precant to mend his relationship with the Hortulan?

They had not spoken with each other for some time, and while using the pretense that he was on official business, the Precant could visit the Arboretum without alarming anyone, as well as forcing the Hortulan to see him. If this was his purpose in calling the meeting, it had apparently failed, seeing as the Hortulan had ended it on account of their wish to be away from him. However, the Legate knew that if the Precant continued in this endeavor, he would eventually succeed. For despite his icy demeanor, he could be endearing when he wanted to. Yet surely there is a greater purpose in this pursuit, for the Precant never sets out to accomplish something that does not in some way benefit him. But what would he gain in being close to them? Whatever it was, the Precant must have greatly desired it for him to go to such lengths in its acquisition. And it must have to be given to him by the Hortulan, willingly. Or else he would have just demanded for it, or take it by force. All of this puzzled the Legate, and he could not discover what it was that the Hortulan possessed that the Precant wanted. Though he decided that it would be best to stay clear of this whole affair, lest the Precant discover of his meddling in his own private matters. Such wouldn't end well for the Legate.

More memories and thoughts of the day came to the Legate while in this reflective mood. Despite his best efforts to repress them, memories of the vision from earlier suddenly filled his mind, and began afflicting him. But just then the Acquirer entered into room, snapping him out of the daze. Quickly recollecting himself, the Legate greeted his friend. They then discussed the message the Acquirer sent to the machines, with him even showing the Legate a copy. He approved of it, and commended him on his good work. The first part of their plan had been concluded, and now it was time for the second. While they awaited for a reply, the two would go and recruit the third member of the operation, as per the Precant's orders. The Keeper Offeror was informed on their departure, and then they were off, to the dark and dreadful dwelling of Disadus.

Code: Select all
Greetings. You have piqued our interest, Octavians. We are the Keepers of the Sanctum, and we are intrigued by your peculiar ways. As such, we request to meet with some of you in person, so that we may discover more about your people and customs. Our intent is to document your people, practices, and architecture within our records, and we have no interest in participating in your current war. Though, if we determine your kind to be deserving of such a gift, further cooperation between our two societies could be initiated, to possibly include potential military support. We hope that you do not pass up this offer, and if you do take it, please transmit coordinates for a meeting place back to us. And remember that our Order holds great knowledge of this life and the next, and that there is much of it that we could share with you.
Last edited by Keepers of the Sanctum on Tue Jul 07, 2020 1:42 am, edited 2 times in total.

User avatar
Il Passione
Secretary
 
Posts: 33
Founded: Apr 09, 2020
Ex-Nation

Postby Il Passione » Thu May 14, 2020 9:02 am

Imperial-Octavia wrote:
Italy

J'eil saw Cannolo's question as good enough reason to reveal who he really was. A part of "Luigi's" neck would seemingly unlatch itself from his flesh and Luigi would place his hand underneath the muscle underneath it and pulled upward revealing a metal caricature of a human skull. His voice would change to a less rough voice and turn into something far friendlier, "Alright the truth then, my name is J'eil, the emissary of a inter-galatic empire interested in your gang's stand users. I was assigned here to see what these stands were and see if the gang would accept work from my liege." J'eil let a beat pass to let Cannolo absorb the information that he just gave him, "Now, my Imperium is willing to help Passione with the syndicate problem when we invade this planet, but my liege requires the aid of your organization to complete some tasks. I can assure you that if you take our offer your gang will prosper." J'eil reapplied the fake flesh and skin and his voice reassumed the previous rough tone as if nothing had happened.


Cannolo was left in a state of thought on the offer for a moment. While he was extremely wary of outsiders, as well as the ridiculous situation he had got himself into, he paused to gather his thoughts. Mista was, to say the least, extremely disturbed, looking at him with a sheer amount of surprise.

"Y-y-you're a cyborg!? Holy shit! No fuckin' way!" He said, clutching his chest.

"Shut it, checker board!" Cannolo said, before sighing as he looked up at J'eil. "As stupid as crazy as this shit sounds... if there's shit you can do to fuck up this new syndicate, then I'm game. I'll have you on a convo in a few moments."

The Rapture Republic wrote:
Meanwhile, Reaper got a strong feeling that he was making process in tracking his prey, and soon will carry out the execution directed to him by the Dragon. As he walked, climbing up a sheep hill, he would kneel down and notice tire tracks, leaning into a forest. “Someone’s been in a rush, perhaps this is the target? Best keep going. Before doing anything unwarranted.” Reaper said internally to himself, and proceeded on his venture to wipe out the Passione. Following the tire tracks as he saw them.

Cannolo's eyes then widened. "Shit, shit, shiiit..." He said, a set of ten cards running back to him as he viewed the monitor
"What!? What is it!?" Mista asked, staggering back. "What do you look so scared about?"
Cannolo's eyes then focused on a bunch of cameras, viewing a nearby figure of Victor. "It's... him."

"Who!? Don't tell me the fucker who blew the shit out of Polpo is comin' towards us?" Mista asked, pulling out his gun and peeking out the window slightly.

"Nope, just the pizza delivery guy. OF COURSE IT'S THAT SON OF A BITCH!" Cannolo yelled, looking to J'eil. "Look, the connection is gonna take a while to set up and I'm not sure how long it's gonna be before he shows up. I've already got a third stand user on watch, but just get him on watch Mista."

"ME!? But I don't even know what that trenchcoated fuck can do! I mean, he just Kamehameha'd Polpo without needing any supplementary powerups, and he's still going!" Mista said, visibly frighted.

"Mista, you're one of the bravest and dumbest people I know. For that, all I know is that he has some weird teleportation ability. If you can time it, you'll get a whole lotta good hits on him." Cannolo reassured him, visibly in a dire need to set up some programs.

"Got it!" Mista said, rolling down behind the door before getting up and slowly opening, pointing his revolver out.
Skyhooked wrote:Good ol' Skyhooked


Venice, Italy.

What about the Road Warriors, who were suddenly sent to a not too fitting job because of some drunk game between the big bosses?
After getting necessary details about Lopez and his residence, they started their plot to kill him as best as they can. They weren't a squad of ninjas, so climbing walls and entering Lopez's appartment and slitting his throat was out of question. Improvization was the answer.

Jose's warband decided to split. Three men entered the roof, from where they could see the appartment of their target. Great visual. And luckily it was close enough to carry our the plan, which was pretty simple. As Lopez enterd and opened the window, one of road warriors used his belt as a sling to launch a molotow right through the open window. This was one of the classic moves, Skyhookers used during the revolution to throw grenades and molotovs further.

Molotov cocktail was lit and thrown accurately through the window. The aim was to cause a fire and smoke Lopez out, while Jose and other five men would wait for him in an ambush near the doors of the appartments, ready to pull out their hidden pistols and knives as soon as they see the target.

As three men saw the smoke, they realized, that they succeeded. Now, it's up to the rest of the group to carry out the plan. Meanwhile, they didn't celebrate their victory yet, but decided to observe, in case if Lopez somehow fins the other way out.


As the old man sighed, staying out of their sights for the moment, he looked over to a nearby mirror as his expression wore a heavy amount of worry. Inside the mirror, however, was a comrade of the Primo Capitolo, a member of La Squadra Esecuzioni by the name of Illuso.

"Came here as soon as you called." Illuso smirked. "Looks like you got the cast of Mad Max waiting for ya." He noted. "Luckily, my ability can lead us to a whole new dimension, and there's nothing they can do to us in there unless I drag them in. They can't even see us unless I let them; and all the while in the mirror world... there will be no life other than you and I." Illuso said, revealing his stand. "How's about we get going now?"

"Yeah, no shit, Shakespeare. If you hadn't run your mouth informing me of shit I already know, we'd be outta here by now. I've already seen what this enemy is capable of with Polpo, the biggest mistake of these ritarda was going loud off the bat. Let's get going..." He said, coughing from the smoke before he was dragged in.

"Wait, Seroglio... You got any contingency plans for those little punks back there?" Illuso asked, before Seroglio chuckled, affirming with a calm smile.

"Yeah... I've got a couple of cowboys on the job." Seroglio stated.

Meanwhile, outside the mirror dimension, a man with orange hair and tan skin stood behind Jose and his men from a distance of at least twelve feet.

"Hey, punk rockers. If you're looking for the capo, he's long gone out of here. Alive... but gone. But if you're looking for a beatdown even worse than the one you got from the same people who hired ya, do stick around." The man said, cracking his knuckles as he appeared unarmed.
"Now, you wanna pull out of the mission now, or am I, Sale, gonna give this handful of bandits an abortion instead?" The man said, now known as a rogue hired gun for Passione, known as Sale.

Morioh Airport, Japan
As Jotaro walked into the main hub of the airport, looking around at the bleak, white scenery that was a Japanese airport, he saw a nearby cafe with the gang sitting around; two boys in punkish clothing, a shorter boy in a green school uniform, an old man holding a cane and a girl in a navy blue sailor dress with long, black hair.

"...and that's where I took the guy's belt and- oh, hey, Jotaro!" Josuke said, springing up at the sight of Jotaro taking a seat near the table. "So... you wanted to see us about something?"

"Lemme guess... it's got something to do with that beam that blew in Italy, right?" Yukako guessed as Okuyasu visibly flinched.

"Well, if it's that, then count me out, man! I ain't touching some orbital alien beam with a 20 foot pole, let alone my stand!" Okuyasu protested, Josuke giving him a light smack laying a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't be such a baby, Okuyasu! We've dealt with way worse than some magic beam, you know!" Josuke said.

"What, Kira? I nearly died to that fucker, and the only reason I came back was because some kid blew himself up for us!" Okuyasu said, putting his hands in his head.

"Cut it, you two. We don't know what this man can do, but it doesn't mean he's not worth stopping... if we don't, then who knows what kind of destruction he's gonna go up on next." Jotaro said, holding his head as he looked at a photo of him and a man with white, tall hair, Joseph also looking somber at it. "This may be the most difficult stand user we'd ever fought."

"Maybe he isn't a stand user, either. I've seen beings do some crazy stuff, y'know." Joseph said, Jotaro and the crew getting up as they walked up to the customs line.

"Good grief... not this again, gramps." Jotaro sighed, Josuke looking moderately confused.

"What? What again?" Josuke questioned, Jotaro turning back and sighing. "Something up with dad"

"He likes to make up fairytales about what he did in his younger years, Josuke. I'm surprised he didn't try and preach it to ya." Jotaro stated.

"What, the weird story about those buff Aztec demigods from the walls and cyborg nazis and whatnot? That was so awesome though!" Josuke stated as Joseph shook his head.

As soon as they made it past customs, they went over to a nearby station to board, coming across Tonio on incident as well, boarding their same flight. Tonio seemed to be dressed in a manner not lie his usual; he was wearing a tie and a white shirt rather than a chef's uniform, and also seemed to lack his hat.

"Tonio!?" Koichi noted, being somewhat surprised. "What're you doing here?"

"Oh, hey, Koichi!" Tonio noted, sighing. "I... just got a little homesick over the years. Morioh may be home to me, but sometimes, you get nostalgic for your homeland, and then you just wonder how your folks at home are doing." Tonio mentioned, wiping his eyes briefly as Jotaro shook his head.

"Good grief." Jotaro stated, Tonio looking somewhat concerned.

"Wait... Mr. Kujo, where are you off to?" Tonio asked curiously. "Stand users do have a tendency to meet each other... plus, it's no coincidence this happened after that weird space-laser-hole abnormality."

"We're just investigating in matters related to... y'know." Josuke responded, Tonio nodding in response, fully understanding the context. "It's gonna be a little dangerous, but... you still wanna go? Even after what's happening?"

"I'm sure of it. At least, if the flight isn't cancelled." Tonio stated concerningly.

"Well, I've got the Speedwagon Foundation on dial, so if it is, we can just use their jets... I already have them looking into potential contacts in that city of Roanapur." Joseph noted, before seeing a group of other stand users from the hometown nearby, including the extended Higashikata family.

"So, you're off to Italy, Tonio? That's too bad... we would have at least liked a few of your lunches for at least a while longer. The restaurant just ain't the same without you, you know." Norisuke noted. "But we understand. You never truly leave home, even when you think you have, y'know?"

"Just stay safe there. I don't want a bunch of fried chicken wings comin' back to Morioh, eh, Koichi?" Hazamada said, playfully punching Koichi in the arm as a man in a sailor suit arrived, looking over to Josuke.

"I ain't keen on watching you get fried by aliens myself... but if you wanna save the world again, fine by me." He chuckled, Josuke engaging in a friendly hug before crouching down to a young boy dressed as a girl, alongside another young boy dressed as a girl.

"Oh... and Pico? Take care of Tsurugi and Stray Cat." Josuke advised, the crossdressing Pico Higashikata nodding in agreement.

"I'll be fine, Gappy. Just tell Joshu to stay away from my mom." Josuke smiled as Joshu looked incredibly disappointed in the back. "She's already got her hands full worrying about me." he chuckled, before leaving off to board the plane as the crowd watched.

As they took their seats on the plane, Jotaro looked at the photo again, his lip quivering slightly.

"Don't worry... we'll be there soon... Polnareff."
Last edited by Il Passione on Thu May 14, 2020 6:09 pm, edited 5 times in total.
Current year: 2000.
Since 1985, Passione has been one of the most powerful mafia syndicates and organized crime forces in Italy, possibly the world, despite having as little a 750 members, most of them gifted with extraordinary superpowers.

(This nation mainly relies on lore from the anime/manga series JoJo's Bizarre Adventure, specifically Part 5, Golden Wind. It also uses lore developed in the non-canon light novels Purple Haze Feedback and Golden Heart, Golden Ring, as well as the unrelated anime Black Lagoon. This also contains diverged lore, specifically that everyone can see and interact with stans, Giorno Giovanna never existed, and that Sorbet & Gelato never died nor investigated the boss due to conceded demands.)

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Khorzromoth
Lobbyist
 
Posts: 16
Founded: Jan 08, 2020
Ex-Nation

Postby Khorzromoth » Thu May 14, 2020 9:41 pm

Synne Industries wrote:

R.S.S. Mann⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
Intergalactic Space, Incorporeal Extraspace

[Ħ] [⎈] [ 1 ]
| Hermes Class Destroyer | Scouting Division One |


In this day and age of multidimensional technology, one would have to be an idiot to not be aware of every little fight, battle, or confrontation within a billion lightyears. Though most of these would become clutter not worthy of a crew's attention, what had just popped up on the LB systems of one particular Initiative destroyer and its single remaining escort was a bit more special than your average surface-level slug-flinging, laser-beaming, and torpedo-launching fleet battle. It's one thing to perform a dimension-melding FTL jump or to screw a bit with Extraspatial physics in the name of science, but openly lobbing bits and pieces of another dimension at the enemy before triggering a planet-cracking blast and promptly [Expletive redacted]ing off via. reality rift was one way to draw attention. Though whatever had caused the ruckus was now unable to be tracked directly, what the Mann could do was to travel to the point of the Extraspatial surging and launch itself in the general direction of whatever had taken off. Some "switch" flipping, "button" pushing, and "radio" chatter later, the RSS Mann was off, traveling at effectively infinite speeds using its interdimensional grappling hook of a propulsion system with the guidance ship Geissler in tow.



[ ⎈ ]
System KV87



If the Mann had arrived mere minutes ago there would have been a planet waiting for them at the terminus of their jump. Instead, they were met with nothing. No rubble, no scrap, just an empty void of open space. Though the physical realm of Realspace would be devoid of any notable chunks of matter, the ship's LB sensor suite was overflowing with activity, "warm" signatures all around and interdimensional Geiger counters going haywire. Obviously, whatever had launched the attack did not care for Extraspatial masking. From the battle site, three distinct readings would stand out. Trails of dimensional residue evocative of some sort of reality-"clipping" jump, three nearly identical masses of something had slipped from Realspace into their own planes of existence. If a Conquistador Class had been there, perhaps the strike group would have been able to evoke local background LB beacons and sentries to gain a perfect recall of the skirmish. Unfortunately, the RSS Mann would need a few extra kilometers in height and reality-enforcement equipment that half the crew wasn't cleared to know about before it could call itself a Conquistador. With its technological limitations, the destroyer did what any good scout flagship would do, actually chase down the damn target, or rather follow a linear trail and perform a gorillion different scans while lurking if anything interesting shows up. Boring scan or no boring scans, taking action was better than doing nothing, it gave the crew something to do as well as decent pay. Selecting one of the three fading signatures, the RSS Mann and Geissler once again slipped into the depths of Vector-transit Extraspace before accelerating to comically high speeds. Whatever this ship, creature, or object of wacky geometry was, it would soon be getting a visit from an Initiative dimension inspector.

The Auraverse wrote:
|✧|Outskirts of Octavian Space|✧|
|KV87 System | Vicinity of KV87-c|




After the preliminary series of microshifts serving to align its realspace "body", the Eidolon continued hanging motionless. It did not stir as the unimaginable volumes of infomass making up its more genuine form - conglomerations of conceptual metafiber and trans-mathematics dense enough to be considered a de-facto cohesive physical entity - were operating in full swing to comb every atom, every planck-square of physical space within the system that may point to the doings and eventual disappearance of the mystery orb. Nor did it change position with the arrival of the R.S.S. Mann - certainly, a physical newcomer to the system was cause for the rerouting of attention, but there was no call for physical relocation as of yet. And as the Hermes class destroyer hopped onwards in pursuit of an orb-trail, the questing, informational pseudo-tendrils of the Director's probe found a few quirks. Familiar oddities in architecture - pointers indicating something that approached familiarity. The framework knew, however vaguely, what had just passed through the system. And it knew that the quarry they sought was one and the same. Perhaps not for the same reasons, and most certainly via different methodologies, but their tasks ran broadly parallel. Which meant that the time for loitering and gathering of informational miscellanea had passed.

But then, to pursue the Mann would mean to abandon the collection of battle data. And there were three exit threads, not one - the second pursuer had seemingly selected one at random. Of course, the Eidolon could call for backup. But that would put further coordinative strain on the Corde, call for the management of additional nodes further up the logistical ladder... thus, a simpler way presented itself. Or rather, a far more complex, roundabout and convoluted way, but one that passed for simplicity within the equally convoluted and nonsensical parameter-metric employed by the Syndicate for the purpose of what it considered to be efficiency. The limiting factor was time, after all, and time equaled processing power. Thus, the best way of going about this was to manufacture some more.

The colossus moved once more, but without actually moving. A realspace observer would have struggled to make sense of what exactly was happening, advanced sensors or no. The towering, stark-white thing appeared to shrink and grow simultaneously, and yet the space it occupied remained identical. It moved closer and further away to any potential observation point, everywhere at once, and yet its position remained locked. At this point, any modosophont caring to continue looking would have likely suffered any number of cognitive failure-induced symptoms and disorders, and their continued integrity, both mental and physical, would be cast into doubt. But there were no modosophonts observing - just the nonexistent, unblinking un-eye of the Corde, hanging just outside the reach of conventional space.

What the Eidolon had actually done was difficult to describe, but amounted to the following. It had, by means of external help, self-fractalized - now extant within a pocket of subtly altered physical bounds that resembled, in passing, the far reaches of deep foldspace its de-facto mothership was still embedded in. It was not the real thing, of course - the complexities of allowing a foldspace pocket to exist outside the preset parameter-metrics, and coexist with the boundaries of realspace without catastrophic consequences were far beyond the scope of what the Eidolon was authorized to do within its current task-sequence. But the resemblance was just close enough to allow for the rough internal replication of the Menger Effect - that ephemeral, nigh-incomprehensible principle which allowed MAGNUS to exist as it currently did, so helpfully devoid of the concepts of size and position. And this was made use of to its fullest - now pseudofractalized, the Eidolon's onboard processing array had been artificially boosted in computing power to a degree that would have likely amazed any pre-Clarketech sophont. As it stood, it still failed to rival the monstrous arrays comprising the Corde, but it was enough for a few more advanced applications of Translocation. One of which was now put in full view.

Once more, the Eidolon distended. This time it was not its size, nor its exact positioning which an observer might have found difficult to comprehend - instead it was the precise number of such units that seemed to occupy that occluded region of space. There had been one, yes. But now, one would espy legions, if only one cared to look. So many as to be uncountable, floating alongside and within each other, in a tumbling mess of white and blue... and then there were four.

The precise mechanism of this occurrence would once again be difficult to quantify or comprehend - suffice to say that the four Eidolons remained one and the same. It was all that very same singular unit, so to speak - with the key difference that it now simultaneously occupied four distinct realspace positions. One body, many placements - just as soon as this pseudo-division had concluded, three already distanced themselves from the fourth. Each took up a semi-arbitrary position - after all, they didn't necessarily need to physically follow each of the orbs' "threads" in order to track them. But it helped, in some incalculable way, to be set up so. With a silent flash of azure-blue space, they vanished one by one. And the fourth remained.

There was still a great deal of data to process, after all.


Octavian Space
Abyssal Passageways

Within an instant, the three mysterious spacecraft were long gone from the KV87 system, coursing through the Abyss at incomprehensible speeds as they closed in on their new destinations. In the midst of this formless, endlessly shifting miasma of quasi-living exotic matter, one would have to be extensively in tune with the ins and outs of extradimensional travel to not instantly disintegrate - as such, they hardly had to anticipate any sort of interference from the Octavians, who could do nothing but wait for them to surface while evacuating whatever they manage. Yet the passageways were not completely safe from interference - something the consciousnesses guiding the orbs were well aware of, especially in a time when a rather powerful resident of this plane was in a state of unrest. Betraying no outward signs of any sort of activity save that of hurtling through their respective currents, on the inside, they were bristling with activity, exhaustively monitoring the expanse around them for any disturbances - any changes, however small, in the flow of the Abyssal soup would be registered nigh-instantly by their sensors. And sure enough, five unknown signatures would be picked up, trailing behind each vessel at a - relatively - measured pace.


Wellspring Maelstrom
Nest | Sensory Node

Jutting out into the un-sky of the Maelstrom was a dark, twisted spire of living metal, an impossibly tall monstrosity of whatever passed for engineering in the forbidden depths far beyond the Surface. Mounting upwards seemingly without a definite end, it appeared to dissolve into the "air" the higher up it went, a swirling vortex situated where its peak should have been. At the centre of this vortex, a featureless chamber of silver lay undisturbed within its small, spherical capsule. And within this chamber, a shimmering, wraith-like figure silently floated, observing some remote corner of reality.

From atop his crooked watchtower, Sovereign Ixil-Vhi-Rhaktz, the Eyes in the Deep, looked over a new scene - one of countless spectacles which had attracted his interest.

As expected, his call had been answered in an instant. Three novice Congregants had been sent out at his word - hardly a respectable fighting force, but then, their target could hardly be considered an adversary. Initial contact had gone as anticipated - threat assessments were made, the offenders were neutralised, and the operation went on to proceed without a hitch. That is, until the unit was approached by newcomers. To be encountered by other dimension-breaching entities during Surface excursions was not unheard of, but so soon, during one of such small scale, was somewhat odd. Perhaps the trio's brazen entrance was bound to attract attention - regardless, this new development meant that the expedition would have to be monitored more closely than previously planned. Fortunately, the Eyes had plenty to spare.

Following behind each vessel at a safe distance, the new arrivals showed no outward signs of hostility, appearing to merely... spectate, as it were. No immediate concerns were present; for now, the Sovereign would simply follow suit, watching with one of his many eyes from one viewing-post out of the myriad throughout the Nest, waiting for them to make their move. Shortly after he detected the intrusions, the group appeared to have done the same, as chatter flew between the three detached vessels concerning unknown, faint disruptions in their passageways. Good - they seemed quick to observe. And thus, new orders were directed to the expeditionary group, as the Sovereign's words flashed through their minds.

The mission is to proceed uninterrupted. Do not engage the foreign objects until further instructed. That is all.


Octavian Space
Various Frontier Systems

Staying true to their commands, the orbs soon surfaced back into Octavian realspace, leaving their pursuers to follow them as they continued their assault on the Imperium while their unseen guardian in the Nest kept watch. The encounter at KV87 was but a glimpse of what was to come - while the destructive power they had at their disposal was somewhat diminished in their detached state, the resistance, or lack thereof, that they had previously seen made it evident that what they possessed was more than enough to clear whatever obstacles the Octavians would throw at them.

Roughly two parsecs spinward from KV87, in a system known as G74, a frontier supply depot was abuzz with activity as its sensors went haywire. A large spatial anomaly, roughly 480 metres across, was spotted racing towards it from the edge of the system, splitting itself up into three as it hurtled through the emptiness of space. The station's AI knew its orders - the mystery orbs from the barren outer reaches had arrived, and engaging them, it had been instructed, was a pointless endeavour with the tools the Imperium had at present. And so it lay helplessly, evacuating whatever it could send through the Aether in the sliver of time it had to react as its destruction loomed ever closer. As they approached, the surrounding area was bristling with signatures as tiny bubbles of distorted space weaved their way towards the outpost - and in a flash, the station was no more. The three assailants then clipped back into the Abyss, each one bound for a new system along the spinward periphery of the Octavian Imperium.

Similar scenes began to play out at an increasing rate across the edges of Octavian space, as the two vessels attempting to encircle it had become six, each one picking off different targets along the frontier. Shipyards, logistical bases, mining outposts - nothing was left in the wake of the orbs, save for faint traces of Abyssal residue. In the meantime, the third orb, moving towards the inner reaches of the Imperium, remained fully intact. After all, its task of planetary eradication would prove somewhat cumbersome were it to spread itself out.

N'vokrul System | N'vokrul-Nar Colonial World

The recent colony on the planet of N'vokrul-Nar was a fine addition to the Imperium. Located on the edge of inhabited Octavian space, just on the boundary between its main outer holdings and the undeveloped frontier, it had previously been occupied and developed into a highly urbanised world by the Volrakan, a primitive reptilian species which had only recently begun to reach outwards within the solar system. Integration into the Imperium went even more smoothly than was expected, after a modest show of force from the colonists fizzled out what little resistance was put up, and before long, much of the native Volrakan population had been blessed with assimilation by their new Octavian masters. Infrastructure was rapidly built up to Octavian standards, and the colony stood as a testament to the Imperium's grand mission. Of course, it remained nowhere near as luxurious as the Core Worlds, but in such a remote corner of inhabited Octavian space, it was like a beacon to Octavian superiority and the wonders of assimilation.

It was rather unfortunate, then, that such a promising new world should have its history so callously cut short.

As the fabric of space ripped itself open in the emptiness of the surrounding system and the extradimensional intruder made its way through, a call was given throughout the colony. All assimilated citizens were to have their consciousnesses transferred through the Aether to be evacuated immediately. Those who had yet to be given mechanical shells, remaining imprisoned in their coffins of flesh, were to be left behind, for the colony had neither the time nor the resources to spare to ensure their continued survival. Planetary shields went up, and defensive spacecraft stationed in the system were deployed as diversions, but neither of these measures were expected to last very long, let alone succeed in holding off the assault. They would buy time to allow for digital evacuation, for that was all that could be done.

The orb paid no heed whatsoever to the incoming Octavian fire as it coursed through space. Such distractions were unnecessary - they posed no threat, and the colony took priority. Yet, puzzlingly, its trajectory did not lead it towards the planet. Instead, it darted in the direction of the system's star, its space-distorting barrier shielding it as it enveloped itself within the immense radiant mass. For a moment, a tiny vortex could be seen on the star's surface, before a blindingly hot fragment of the star shot outwards at near-lightspeed. The planet's shields were struck with - quite literally - the force of a sun, reducing the generators to piles of smouldering slag. Though much of the blast was held off by the shields in their final moments, preventing any large-scale devastation on the surface, the atmosphere was inundated with blistering heat as the shields collapsed - and after mere minutes of respite, a second fragment came hurtling towards the colony. Once a prosperous, rapidly developing frontier world, the entirety of N'vokrul-Nar was reduced to a barren, scorching waste.

Hidden within the confines of N'vokrul, the orb reassembled - having dispersed itself inside the star to channel its planet-destroying blasts - and took its leave, disappearing from the system through a hole in realspace. To the average observer, not a trace of it remained - only a minute hint of Abyssal interference still flickered, deep within the inner reaches of the star.
Last edited by Khorzromoth on Thu May 14, 2020 9:58 pm, edited 1 time in total.
✵✵✵ BLESSED CHILDREN OF THE FORMLESS GOD ✵✵✵
Pending 1
Pending 2
Pending 3
Pending 4
Pending 5
Pending 6
"Everything is real, and yet nothing is. I lie adrift in an endless sea of dreams that are not mine. One day, however, they will be."

Post-human, post-physical functionally infinite collective of semi-autonomous disembodied consciousnesses, tethered to and spawned from one oversized soul staving off its own metaphysical collapse
Lore is extremely WIP, but exists in the same continuity as Khoronzon and Empyrius
If Khoronzon's so good, how come they never made a seq- oh god oh h*ck


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TENNOHEIKA BANZAI NIHON
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1366
Founded: Feb 19, 2019
Ex-Nation

Postby TENNOHEIKA BANZAI NIHON » Fri May 15, 2020 3:18 pm

Empire of Yamato
Outskirts of Gokyo


(Co-Write with Imperial-Octavia and TheMandate)

After accepting the gracious gift from the Octavian ambassador, their convoy now made the 40 minute drive towards the Imperial Palace, where the Emperor would be waiting. The convoy consisted of some of the highest ranking generals and politicians in the entire Empire, so naturally they were well protected. There was a helicopter overhead and the convoy protected by the Imperial Guard’s best along with Kempeitai officers. Their main duty was to get the Prime Minister and Ambassador safely to the palace, or die trying. As they continued along the boring road, as the Prime Minister chatted with the ambassador, Colonel Hashimura of the Imperial Guard just slumped in his seat, thinking this would be an easy mission, like normal, for the Empire had been at peace for decades.

Animus-6 was only concerned in the Empire getting the USB holding the tech for if it were lost, his position as top Mechanator would be jeopardized and so would the Imperium's position in this system. A few notifications appeared on his HUD showing that conflict with a few star-states had begun, but for now Animus-6 would withhold that news from the Japanese. They weren't ready to be thrown into the balefire that was intergalactic combat. At the moment Animus-6 would chat with the Prime Minister about whatever present affairs existed in the Yamato Empire with knowledge gained via a download of recent media from the nation before his arrival to the planet's surface. Preparedness was important after all.

A mere 10 minutes down the road sat 20 Section-2 operatives under stealth, five anti-tank mines were being placed on the road in preparation for the convoy making its way down the road. Each plasma mine would be sufficient to punch through a tank deployed by the Grand Army, far more than required for such a mission but the mission called for the convoy to be stopped. Three clicks came through the helmets of the operatives signaling that the two sabotage teams were prepared to move on the cruiser as soon as the mines went off, a further two clicks signalled the acknowledgement of the support team on a small hill nearby providing overwatch for the operation.

Colonel Hashimura watched as the large convoy continued on, every so often radioing the lead vehicle. He sat camly, sword by his side and a pistol on his hip, he was prepared for a fight. But he wasn’t too worried, they were in a special ministry car meant to be able to stop incoming rounds. While it would be quite an issue if there was an explosive device, what were the chances of that on home territory?

Lieutenant Lauritzen gripped the laser in his hands more tightly as the convoy raced down the road towards his men. The closer they came the louder his heart pounded, he could see the men under the stealth field next to him tensing in anticipation as the lead vehicle drew closer still. All it took was a fraction of a second from the lead vehicle's wheel touching the cloaked mine to it vanishing in a cloud of superheated plasma the occupants dead before they could feel it. At that signal the vehicles in the middle of the convoy would find engine blocks penetrated by an unseen force as the distant support team fired their heavy ultraviolet laser sniper to trap the ambassador. The main teams by the road took the blast as the sign to drop their stealth fields and train their weapons on the vehicles waiting for the occupants to either surrender or step out to their death.

Colonel Hashimura watched in horror as an explosion rocketed further ahead in the convoy. “What was that?!” He quickly composed himself, and opened the blast proof window to speak with the Prime Minister, his ministers, and a few generals who were all equally startled. “Sir stay in the car. Whatever you do, don’t get out. This car is blast proof, and you should be safe.” He turned to the ambassador, “Sir, I know not what course of action you will take, but I would recommend you stay in the car.”

He quickly locked the window as he heard firing. The other guards had gotten out of the cars and were getting shot at. Some were safe from the attacks as their cars were in the center rows, while those who were unfortunate were not. “Kento!” He yelled to the driver. “With me!” He unholstered his pistol as the diver grabbed his submachine gun and stepped out, ready to face whatever was to come.

When guards started to pour from the vehicles the teams needed no order to open fire, they had all been briefed on every expected outcome of the mission and thus started shooting the moment the first door opened. What they hadn’t fully expected was the return fire, plasma bolts hadn’t been expected but it was no matter they had trained for worse. The men dispersed even as plasma bolts came in from the soldiers exiting the vehicles and from the helicopter above. “Support Team” roared Lauritzen into his helmet mic “I want that bird out of my sky”.

No response came over the comm even as the helicopter took out three of his men with its fire, what told him the message had gotten through was the sound of a helicopter's tail rotor being hit. Unfortunately for Lauritzen it looked like the pilot would be able to land though at least it would be a bumpy landing. Fixing his gaze back on the convoy as another status indicator on his HUD flickered red he spotted a pair of men exiting the limo at the centre of the convoy, unfortunately he couldn’t stop them from taking cover but the withering hail of laser fire he sent at them should at least make them keep their heads down.

Colonel Hashimura ducked as rounds passed overhead. He knew they were in trouble, their copter had just gotten shot down, leaving them without air support. He ran to one of the cars and took cover, firing a few blasts blindly from his pistol as Kento crouched, firing off his submachine gun. They had already suffered numerous casualties, being out in the open, and with their cars out of commission, they were in trouble. He spoke into his radio, “This is Colonel Hashimura to command, we have been ambushed. Requesting reinforcement and airstrike on my position.”

He waited for a long minute before he got an answer. “The Imperial Rapid Deployment Team is 30 minutes out. We can have air support on your position in 45.”

Kento smiled, “Sir reinforcement is coming!”

Hashimura frowned. “We both know this will be over in 10. They had suffered numerous casualties now, but even some of the senior commanders had joined in on the fight, firing their pistols as the few mounted machine guns left continued to rain down hell on the attackers.

Lauritzen moved along the sedge of the road keeping those who had exited the limo in sight aware of the slackening fire from the convoy as its members were put down. Unfortunately for Lauritzen one of the mounted guns chose that moment to target him, the blow came like a car crash throwing him onto his back and bringing a flashing warning up in his HUD. Luckily his chestplate had taken the blow unfortunately the armour they were using for the operation had been designed during a period where plasma weapons weren’t common outside of labs, as such the chestplate was now little more than so much slag. The gun however, didn’t have the chance to shoot at him for much longer as the support team took care of the gunner.

Shaking himself off Lauritzen rose to a crouch and pulled a suppression grenade from his belt to throw at the senior officer that had exited the limo, fortunately for them this kind of grenade is designed to quell rioters so it would do little actual damage. As the number of hostiles dwindled and the grenade flew through the air another two lights went out on his HUD. Both had fallen to the pair of men that had gotten out of the front of the limo, taking aim at the man with the submachine gun Lauritzen turned on his helmet speakers. “Remaining convoy guard” he called keeping his rifle trained on the man with the submachine gun “you have fought well and with honour. However we entreat you to surrender, our quarrel is not with you but with the ambassador in your care. There is no dishonour in laying down your arms to save your men when you are guarding the ambassador of a race that would see you subjugated. You have 5 seconds to comply, choose wisely”.

Colonel Hashimura pushed himself up, stunned from the grenade. He was lucky, afterall he hadn’t thought to actually wear any body armor. When the hostile force called over he laughed. If he surrendered, he would be seen as a disgrace. He glanced around. Most of his men were dead, except for two remaining Kempeitai officers and three other Imperial Guardsmen. Only the top commanders and ministers were still alive, but who knew, one of the generals had probably already committed seppuku.

Hashimura sat, and Kento whispered, “Die well friend. I think we got a few of them, die knowing that.” He gave a small nod. The five seconds were up and he fired a single shot blindly towards the enemy. Kento began firing again and so had the other men. He sat behind his cover too weak to move. He was an older man at 65 and was not known for his skill, rather his tactics. In this case, there were none to turn to.

Animus-6 applauded the organics for their attempts at protecting him, at least he did in his mind. He too was combating the ambushers (despite the Colonel's advice) with his arm mounted arm cannon shooting in bursts with rounds large enough to leave a decently sized hole in an organic. However the battle was seemingly lost. The advancing strike team had killed many of the guards and it would seem that whoever these organics were they were on the brink of victory. He moved his way towards a window and broke it and then continued fire on the attacking forces. He spoke to the men inside seemingly unphased, "I would recommend running with the USB. It contains technology vital for your nation's future participation in the war. I can keep up with your vehicle when they are done with. Worst case scenario this body is destroyed and I come back in another."

While speaking Animus-6 began cracking his way into this planet's internet. He had an idea which may be useful to say the least...

Colonel Hashimura watched as Kento fired his gun, and drew a knife, unlike his laser sword, this was a traditional knife, passed down through his family since the 1500s. He moved to commit seppuku, before pausing. He lowered his knife and slowly removed a grenade from his belt. Slowly, he pulled out the pin and held on for dear life. He figured once the enemy advanced, at least he could take out one of the attackers.

Inside the limo, the Prime Minister nodded towards the youngest member of the ministry, who jumped out of the car running with the USB. He knew the battle was nearly over, and ordered all of his ministers to run with the other man and get to safety. Meanwhile he picked up a pistol from a fallen man, and took after with them. It may have been slightly dishonorable to retreat, but in this case, the survival of the nation was at stake. Reinforcements would arrive in twenty minutes or so, there seemingly was hope after all.

Animus-6 had expected the emissaries to use the car instead of running, but at least he was provided with more cover. He would continue firing at the ambushers from there hopefully taking a few of them out.

The section-2 Operatives ignored the running politicians opting instead to focus on Animus 6. Lauritzen and two of his men for their part kept to cover moving for the incapacitated officers and the Colonel, one of the men went to restrain the Colonel only to notice the warning in his helmet far too late to save him. The blast ripped through the man’s armour perforating his organs with metal shrapnel, Lauritzen knew the man was done for and prematurely triggered the operatives termination implant to spare him any further pain.

“Stay back from the others” warned Lauritzen pointing his rifle at the downed generals “incapacitation shots only, leave them alive”. The two men fired their lasers into the downed officers hitting shoulders, arms and legs to leave them hurt but alive. With that done the pair turned to assist the rest of the assault group as two pairs of clicks came over the comm signaling that the first bomb had been planted on the Octavian Cruisers engines. Another operative went down to Animus-6 as the team focused him down followed by another, a grenade was thrown by one of the operatives towards the door the ambassador was taking cover behind.

Captain Morikawa looked out the helicopter window, so far nothing. They were about 18 minutes away from the supposed location of the attack, but it seemed they were too late, for now the Colonel was no longer responding. He adjusted his grip on his rifle and looked out again. Still nothing. His group was light, just 5 helicopters surrounding one larger transport, so he hoped his men were ready, it seemed the enemy force was quite capable. Ground forces were about an hour away so he had to hope their training, being the second best soldiers (compared to the Emperor’s personal guard) in the nation, would be enough to take whomever was attacking on.

Animus-6 would notice the grenade and jumped out of his cover continuing to lay down fire on the ambushers. With all of the organic fighters dead (Animus would have said such an outcome was predictable, but they had fought surprisingly well). Now without a reliable source of cover Animus-6 would start looking for a way to escape losing this body. Animus-6 could always try and escape, but he wasn't sure if these organic attackers would come after them too and with the remainder of the convoy on foot their odds weren't the best. Self-destruction would probably lead to the USB's immolation in a fusion explosion and a diplomatic approach had long since been unviable. With those options presented to him, the most logical option would be continuing the fight.

Animus-6 would launch all three of the plasma grenades he had left over from his mission before this and would start to dart about with his enhanced speed firing mini-cannon rounds with one arm and holding his electro-saber in the other using his agility to approach the group coming towards him while also maintaining fire. Once he got close enough to the Section-2 operatives he would begin slashing at them with the electro-saber.

To say the three grenades flying towards the operatives had been a surprise would be an understatement but to the four men they landed near it was a moot point. The blasts were greater than the old armour had been designed to withstand sending limbs flying and thankfully being enough to trigger the implants in the soldiers heads to prevent any suffering. Lauritzen cursed again, the locals had already proven to be unexpectedly dangerous but now this? He darted for cover as the mini-cannon fired, cutting another man in half with its rounds, even as the metal monstrosity charged forward his men kept up their fire with his helmet even identifying the heavy laser fire of the support team in the distance aimed at the machine. The damned thing just seemed to keep coming even entering mele-range with a sword of all things to lock itself into close-combat with another of his men.

Animus-6's energy diffusing armor made the heavy laser fire mostly harmless, the most harm coming from it being some of his mechanical innards being slightly warmer than they were previously. The man Animus-6 found his rifle slashed in half as he held it followed by a quick stab to the stomach, immolating his insides with the immense electrical current flowing through the blade. Animus-6 kicked the man's body to the floor and moved onward to the next who would find a saber directed to his neck as Animus-6 shot at a few other of his ambushers.

The final 4 operatives moved apart as two of their comrades died to the machines blade each of them pulling grenades for use against Animus-6 seang as they were having little visible effect on the machine with their rifles. “Support Team” called Lauritzen moving for fresh cover from that thing’s cannon “break cover, heavy support needed on my position”. The only answer to be heard over the cannon firing was a muffled acknowledgement through his helmet comms backed by the thump of the AT launcher releasing its payload. Even as another 2 of his men died the micro-fusion missile raced its way towards the Mechanator leaving a highly visible smoke trail back to the now retreating support team. A series of 6 rapid clicks through comms also told Lauritzen that the team at the cruiser had planted the second bomb on the cruisers exterior, comforted by that knowledge he raised his rifle once more to pour more ineffective fire into the metal monster before him.

Animus-6 charged forward even as the operatives threw their grenades. At first he had the thought that he would damage his physical form immensely doing this but as one of the grenades exploded behind his feet he saw that they did minimal amounts of damage. Armed with this knowledge Animus-6 only charged faster, even having the gall to grab one of the grenades mid air and throw it behind him. The final two would be ended in one slash, cleaving through both of them like a knife through butter. As Animus-6 looked to find any remaining operatives multiple of his sensors would report a possible danger coming his way. As he turned to look he saw a rocket about 10 seconds away from hitting him. Near instantly he broke into a full sprint, picking up dirt behind him as he ran. Though he knew he couldn't avoid the blast radius completely he knew that getting caught in the blast would be far better for him than getting hit with the missile directly. Animus got around a foot away from the main blast when it went off.

Animus-6's body was sent hurtling forward as he was thrown across the plain the battle had situated itself on. Dirt and shrapnel covered him in equal amounts and though not as bad as a direct hit Animus knew that he was compromised physically. Running a quick diagnostic he found that while most of the shrapnel was stopped by his external armor, a few shards made their way into his joints limiting his movement specifically in his right arm and both hands. His legs for the most part were fine, but the shrapnel had made certain parts of his armor weaker than they'd usually be. Animus-6 activated the AI in his cruiser to come pick him up. The men inside the cruiser would see it's door close and feel the craft slowly rise. As the craft began it's ascent the men on the hull and those inside of it would probably find it wise to leave the craft unless they had anymore bombs to plant.

10 minutes up the road at the landed Octavian cruiser two teams of 10 men prepared to move out as the cruisers engines roared to life. The 10 men still attached to the underside of the vessel triggered the rapid descent function of their ascenders to quickly drop down lines attached to the cruisers underside. Reaching the ground they took off for the forest alongside the other 10 man team that had kept a lookout for trouble after planting their bomb, reaching the tree line the men looked back at the ascending vessel waiting for further orders. “Team 3” came the voice of Captain Lepmets from orbit “Team 2 is down, the ambassador is the most likely reason for that thing moving. Trigger the bombs”. Doing as they were ordered the teams pressed two detonators, one for the plasma bomb on the engines and the other for the directional fusion bomb designed for crippling ships. If either failed to receive the signal there was always the 10 minute timers on each weapon and the tamper protections should those fail but either way the weapons were primed for detonation.

Captain Morikawa looked in horror when he could see in the distance a small explosion near the convoy. He yelled to the pilot, “How far out are we?”

To the response, “13 minutes out sir.” The helicopter continued on, the men now anxious, ready for a fight.

Animus-6 would go around seeing if a brain existed in any of the dead ambushers so that he might be able to find out who they belong to. Turning off the electrical current in his electro-saber as he took it to the heads of them only to find...slush. It wasn't even damaged, it was just liquidized. This obviously wasn't a fringe group with military grade weapons, no these people had more than that, more than what Animus thought the Yamato Empire had. "...Intriguing…" Animus-6 would take a scan of the liquid and then took a sample of one of the men's DNA. If the Yamato Empire had files on them, then discontents found or, more dangerously, were given tech to melt their minds among everything else. If they did not, then the Imperium would have to find the star state they had to crush.

As the cruiser rose both explosive charges detonated causing some considerable damage to the hull. The engine had some of the energy dispersing alloy in it, though a little weaker. After all if you were turning your back to the enemy you shouldn't stay long enough to let them fire at your engines. The damage caused left most of the engines damaged with the one it was closest to nearly disabled. It could still fly, but it wouldn't be nearly as effective or fast as it would've been before. Turning a trip that would take a minute at best going at cruising speed would now take around 5. And as Animus-6 got the reports of the damage he realized that whoever attacked him weren't just some nationalistic terrorists, these organics were something else entirely.

The teams ran from their respective operational zones but both were making their way deeper into the forest away from Gokyo and the damaged cruiser. Both teams would hear the same brief message from Captain Lepmets “Head for evacuation point delta”, the two groups would begin maneuvering away to the east for a location sheltered under the forest canopy where a cloaked shuttle awaited them. By their own estimates the support team from the ambush would reach the site in 15 minutes with the teams that went after the cruiser following 5 minutes behind them, though not that either team was actually aware of the others position.

Far above the planet aboard the stealthship in orbit Captain Lepmets kept a close watch on the situation drinking in the information her sensors were feeding her. Her finger hovered above a pair of holographic controls, one to recall the shuttle and the other being the master directory access for the liquidation implants for the agents below. Her hand withdrew somewhat as she resolved to see exactly what happened next thanks to a report coming up from her analysts, the ambassador had been damaged and his ship had also taken some damage. The engine damage being the most obvious outcome of the bombs but her sensors couldn’t passively gauge the internal damage from the fusion bomb. This meant that her report would likely have to regrettably lack such crucial information on the Octavian vessel unless she wanted to reveal her ship in the process.

Morikawa looked down in shock, as he descended from his helicopter. Surrounding the once proud convoy were bodies of dozens of Imperial Guardsmen and Kempeitai officers along with multiple attackers. As he and his men secured the landing zone, the transport helicopter landed, and 30 more Imperial Rapid Response Team members rushed out. Their force totaled 55 men, more than enough to secure the area. Medics began to tend to the wounded as a team moved to find and protect the Prime Minister and his staff. The helicopters circled overhead as two separated to find and attack the attackers.

Upon seeing Animus-6, Morikawa gave a deep bow and said “Ambassador, I apologize for my failure to arrive in time.” He gave another bow. “Sir what happened?” As he asked this, a call came from his men.

“Sir! We have located the Prime Minister. He wishes to speak with you.”

Morikawa gave another bow to Animus-6 and said “I must attend to my leader now. I apologize.”

He turned to a medic, “Soldier, find some way to get care for the Ambassador. Anything he needs, and protect him at all costs!”

“Yes sir!”

Morikawa rushed off to assist the Prime Minister and watched as two fighters screamed overhead, searching for the attackers. Bowing to the Prime Minister, he didn’t have a chance to speak before the Prime Minister started, “I believe we were attacked by a far technologically superior force. I do not think they are from this world. I want all transportation off world to be completely shut off. Shoot anything down that violates this order. Mobilize the fleet, I want our assets ready and away from port in case this assassination attempt was meant to be a decapitation strike before a war.”

Morikawa bowed and began to speak into his com…

Captain Lepmets watched from above as the first group of operatives reached the cloaked shuttle, each man seemingly vanishing into thin air according to the cameras on the stealthship. The remaining group of 20 arrived a minute later obviously having picked up their pace to get away from the helicopters searching the forest a few minutes away, for the men on the ground it looked like it would be a clean getaway. From above however it would prove a little less clean with local warships beginning to prowl around in orbit and fighters closing in the shuttle would have to fly carefully.

On the ground two men dragged a small laser turret out of the shuttle and set it up for AA duties, it wouldn’t do much thanks to the limits of the technology it had been designed with but it would do for a distraction. The two men ran back into the shuttle allowing it to shut its forward ramp and make its way away from the clearing with its stealth systems fully active. Once the cloaked craft was 20m into the air the ancient turret angled its barrels towards the closing fighters and started firing inaccurate suppression bursts to throw the fighters off and keep attention focused on it rather than the shuttle sneaking its way back into orbit.

Fighters swarmed the area searching for a means of escape while helicopters continued to patrol, but alas, their sensors could see nothing. Only when there was some firing could the fighters pinpoint the relative location, but unable to lock their guns, could only fire randomly in the direction the shooting seemed to come from. The commander seemed to know the enemy was now gone, but orders were to continue to patrol for the next day, to ensure no enemy was left behind and escaped.

Lepmets watched the exchange from above and opened an isolated shuttle bay on the stealthships flank after reducing all emissions even further to reduce the detection risk. It would be a few tense minutes before the shuttle arrived and sealed the door itself before she would give her orders. “Comms, sideburst a report back home” ordered Lepmets keeping a careful eye on the prowling warships outside “Helm, take us out carefully and get us home”. A soft acknowledgement was all she got but now would come the most difficult part of the operation, sneaking away with the locals in high alert.

The Rapid Response team would find Animus-6 in a less than ideal state. Blood, dirt and shrapnel covered the whole of his body and a few wires could be seen through his damaged arms. Animus-6 would look at the medic and lift his arms, "Do you have plasteel-titanium alloy on this planet?" Animus-6 looked upward as his Cruiser arrived with a sizable hole in the outer hull. Yet another thing that pointed to some other inter-galactic nation being involved in this mess. He only hoped that they hadn't managed to complete their mission.

The medic replied, “Sir, I believe we have some of the alloy you request in limited supply. I will arrange for it to be brought immediately. Sir let us tend to your damage first. I will look into how we can repair your ship too, otherwise it appears you might have to use one of ours or stay for a little bit in the Imperial Palace. We have a military convoy coming soon, and I can say with confidence, not even a fool would attack that.”

Animus-6 looked at the carnage behind him before turning mechanically to the medic, "It has already been proven that this planet has enough fools as it is. I hope you all can see to it that they're removed." Animus-6 would stay still to allow the medic to do what he could with his arms, though he did not expect much from him, being an organic medic and not an engineer of some sort. Animus-6 figured that he could not make it worse regardless of inexperience with Octavian machinery.

The Prime Minister looked on. He would have to address the nation the next day, and had a lot ahead. There would be full mobilization and an investigation in the days to come.
Last edited by TENNOHEIKA BANZAI NIHON on Fri May 15, 2020 3:20 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Ignis States
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Posts: 61
Founded: Jun 15, 2018
Psychotic Dictatorship

Postby Ignis States » Fri May 15, 2020 5:35 pm

Imperial-Octavia wrote:
Italy

J'eil saw Cannolo's question as good enough reason to reveal who he really was. A part of "Luigi's" neck would seemingly unlatch itself from his flesh and Luigi would place his hand underneath the muscle underneath it and pulled upward revealing a metal caricature of a human skull. His voice would change to a less rough voice and turn into something far friendlier, "Alright the truth then, my name is J'eil, the emissary of a inter-galatic empire interested in your gang's stand users. I was assigned here to see what these stands were and see if the gang would accept work from my liege." J'eil let a beat pass to let Cannolo absorb the information that he just gave him, "Now, my Imperium is willing to help Passione with the syndicate problem when we invade this planet, but my liege requires the aid of your organization to complete some tasks. I can assure you that if you take our offer your gang will prosper." J'eil reapplied the fake flesh and skin and his voice reassumed the previous rough tone as if nothing had happened.

Above and below the Galaxy

A few sensors detected some odd objects located above and below the galactic plane. Octavia rarely bothered to deal with that was outside the galactic plane unless it gave the Imperium some benefit and this seemed to be one of those cases. In the current time of intergalactic unrest, the Tactical Codex decided to deal with the objects. Infinity class space station's would focus their lasers at them and with their long range capabilities they would be within their range. 5 stations were assigned to each object and they would continue firing upon the objects until they were destroyed. Hopefully this would not pull yet another star-state into this growing debacle.

The Paramount's Palace

Yet another message, this time from Bombrunner. The Deceptions were valued allies of Octavia at this quite precarious moment and The Paramount was aware of this. And so even though he thought that Bombrunner could find out this information in other ways he decided to answer the message personally.

To: Bombshell
The allies of Octavia are numerous. In our current alliance we have the Visoran Empire (synthetic), The Hobbes Dystopia (Lead by a synthetic), The Mighty Yamato Empire (organic for now), American Pere Housh (organic), and of course the Deception Empire. That is the complete alliance we currently have.


As The Paramount finished writing the message the wisp began speaking again and as The Paramount turned to look at it he saw an old enemy. Zen. The previous leader of the Ignis States. The Paramount had long suspected he had axed himself off and did the universe a favor, but instead he decided to come to his senses and begin supporting The Paramount. Albeit his support was based in some odd fascination with The Paramount's power when paired with the module, but support was support. He could feel Zen had gained more power, much more, but he wasn't surprised. He did seem like the type to continue training and what not, however The Paramount saw an opportunity in Zen's new heights of power, "We supposed you can say that the war is going against our favor. You can help us with that though. There's this cruiser from the United Government..." The Paramount showed the predicted location of the Cruiser to Zen "The civilization that made it is incredibly advanced and multiple of our allies have tried and failed to destroy it. We would like you to assault it with the rest of our allies. With your power it shouldn't give you too much of an issue." The Paramount didn't fully believe that Zen would steamroll it, but it would be quite funny seeing Zen get broadsided with those ridiculously sized guns.

The Paramount had one final thing he wanted to do today, he had to assemble all of their allies to put this cruiser down and with the current communication lines in their alliance it would be easy.

To all members of the Octavian Coalition
As some of you may have heard there is a Cruiser that has caused the Octavian nation some significant harm. In order for all of our nations to achieve our goals we must take this cruiser down. As such we order all Octavian allied vessels to combine at the Octavian Ringworld. From there we will find the Cruiser and whatever may accompany it and destroy it. We recommend you bring the most firepower you can afford to bring. We must leave no chance of this Cruiser's survival and crush it completely.


The Paramount sent the message off to the motely crew of nations and hoped that they would be able to overwhelm the ship with sheer firepower alone. The Paramount did have his doubts though. Major doubts.



As Zen lays eyes upon the Cruiser's location, a sinister, strangely disingenuous grin finds its way to his lips. Within his gaze, the pinpricks of stars, of an entire universe can be seen.
In his hand, cyan flame materializes in the palm, writhing and swirling as it's shaped into a rapier of gleaming, sky-blue metal. The hilt and crossguard are made from a shining, completely pure platinum.
In his other hand, black flame erupts, churning into a solid shape after what seems to be ages: A simple katana with a sheath of onyx and a hilt of black iron, bismuth crystals embedded within that add a vibrant splash of color to the dark hues. Crudely written on the sheath in silver sharpie is "From Dace, you big dummy <3".

"Hm. This cruiser is unlikely to provide a truly tangible challenge for me. I certainly cannot destroy it instantly, but destroying it is certainly possible. It's a matter of unconventional tactics, using what looks idiotic at first, and taking the obvious yet foolish routes. I'm rambling, but it's easy to think of methods for achieving victory. Now...."

Zen's body begins to dissolve into black smoke, his energy signature growing fainter and fainter as it rapidly travels towards the Cruiser's location.
"I have a job to do, Paramount."
With that, he vanishes.
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"Strein, remind me why you decided this was a good idea." Mark stands within the center of a great chamber made of pitch black stone, seven flames of varying colors floating just above the ground in different corners of the room. In front of him is a window of light, displaying the view of one of Ignis's border worlds.
Standing next to him is Strein, naturally. Her expression is one of concerned confusion as she tries to figure out just what the hell Mark is trying to tell her.

"Wait, what exactly do you mean?"

"Those refugees. They were from Octavia, right? They came here shortly before they started their open hostilities, right? You'd think after a century, they'd have cleaned up all of their organics. But if there's a sizable enough portion to come here...Something's up. Keep that in mind."
Strein's eyes widen as she realizes...she just made a bit of a woopsy doopsy. With an uncertain flick of her tail, she turns to her Ausar mentor.

"Oh no...! We need to get them to leave as soon as possible! I'll send out the order!" Mark nods as Strein runs up the stairs of the chamber, eventually making her way to a computer console in a throne room. She quickly runs over to it before activating the transparent scarlet screens of energy.
In a matter of moments, an order is broadcast across the entirety of the empire: "To all provincial governors, remove all Octavian refugees as best you can! It doesn't matter what methods you use, just get them away from population centers!"
What happens when you cross anime powers and overpowered leaders with furries, all written by a bored Homestuck fan with too much time? Well, you get Rumei. A multiethnic, FT republic with both might and magic that let it conquer the entire Orion Arm.
A 7.6 (this is probably outdated but I can’t do the calculations rn) (Tier 9, Level 6, Type 9) according to this index.
Come to The Orion, we got C U L T U R E and F U R R I E S

Show Recommendation: Cobra Kai. It is very, very good.
IC Name: Roman Republic, or simply Rome (Rumei). Occasionally called the Ignisian Republic. Current year is 2697.

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The Zravvisk
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Democratic Socialists

Postby The Zravvisk » Fri May 15, 2020 8:27 pm

Dragua II
An emergency council session was called as soon as the Solemn Dagger’s report came in. After reading the report and the attached recordings of a planet’s last minutes of life a vote was called immediately. In just under a minute it was decided unanimously to declare war upon the Octavian Imperium. All that was left was to announce it.

A wideband transmission to everyone in range of the Dragua was sent out. All vessels of the Armada were ordered to watch it while any foreign nations were welcome to listen. The transmission was a video that had the chief and the entire Council of Ten present. The chief spoke.

“We, the Armada of the Zeavvisk have been investigating rumors that the Octavian Imperium have been committing intolerable atrocities upon their recently conquered territories. We have found irrefutable evidence that they’re been snuffing out the light out of several sapient species, darkening the galaxy forever at this loss. In light of this, we declare war on the Imperium to both avenge every species they have wiped out and to safeguard the rest of the species of the galaxy. May your ancestors have mercy on you for we shall have none!

“Every planet you have conquered will be liberated, the people freed, and your government dismantled. We swear on the honor of our ancestors that there shall be no peace as long as both the Armada and Imperium existence. If any doubt the righteousness of our crusade, you can examine the same evidence we have. Copies of all our evidence will provided to our archives, the Galactic Federation, and Ridley’s Rest. I can not speak to what the Federation will do with it, but no matter who you are you can receive a copy from us if you ask. That is all.”

Outside Imperial Space
The Solemn Dagger wasn’t surprised to have received an encrypted transmission from the Armada, but its contents were. Instead of orders to meet back up, it was plans for an invasion into Imperium space. The captain studied it worried. Yes, it was encrypted, but the Armada had harder encryption and they knew how close the Dagger was to enemy space. The Octavians could intercept it and decrypt it after some time. Why would the Chief and Council be so careless? Then she saw it and called a scholar over.

A small group of scratches near the arrow showing the invasion route. She had her suspicions that it was Ancient Zravvisk, their old language that had died out almost ten thousand years ago and was untranslatable. Well untranslatable besides a few words known exclusively to scholars like the chief or the one on her ship. With the arrival of the scholar, it was confirmed to be Ancient Zravvisk, and that the word most likely meant back or reverse.

Flipping the arrow to the other side of the Imperium, the base of the arrow was near a wormhole system. The captain smiled as she remembered that the other side of the wormhole was near the Armada’s current location. It was clear that the Armada wanted them to find out this plan and keep their flagship here while the Armada hit the other side of the empire in full force. And if the Dagger destroyed a few senor stations and convoys, it would convince them of the plan’s legitimacy and pin ships here.

And so the Dagger turned around to head back into Imperial space.
Zravvisk is the name of our species, but other people commonly call us "Space Dragons".
Don't meddle in the affairs of dragons for you are crunchy and tolerable with condiments.
A day in the Armada isn't too different from a Star Trek episode if almost eveyone in the Federation was a dragon and spiritual.
Trying to collect every NS pokemon card. Almost 630 collected.

La Paz de Los Ricos wrote:They believe the stars are full of wonder, when they are, in fact, GIANT, BURNING DEMON-SPHERES OF SIGHT-BLINDING, GRAVITY-CREATING, LIFE-ENDING, OVERALL DEADLINESS.

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Imperial-Octavia
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Founded: Apr 29, 2019
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby Imperial-Octavia » Sat May 16, 2020 9:39 pm

Italy

J'eil looked at Mista through his facemask with a look of disgust, "Don't associate me with those halfers. I'm fully assimlated organic.", Cyborgs were degenerates as far as J'eil and the rest of the Imperium were concerned and the fact that this organic was so ignorant as to compare him to one was one of the most insul- Mr. Roboto, J'eil's stand summoned itself seemingly more aware of the conversation as it began scanning the room. J'eil began listening in and realized that Mista may be in for a fight. He would help, but he didn't know what his stand could do. Perhaps if it could keep Mista from getting beamed it'd be good, but until he knew what it could do it was virtually useless. As soon as the idea entered his mind Mr. Roboto would move to Cannolo's computer screen and pulled a light blue bubble from the screen.

Mr. Roboto would then proceed to fire these bubbles across the warehouse covering Mista and Connolo in the bubbles causing them to feel oddly reflective about themselves, "Settings altered with: Reflective concept. Users: Guido Mista, Cannolo Murolo, and J'eil have been modified with concept of reflectiveness. Any hostile action applied to said users will be given back to the hostile for one use only." The stand spoke in a series of beeps and boops which were all oddly understandable. J'eil looked confused as his stand floated around him monitoring the movements of everyone in the room very carefully.

Octavian Ringworld

The Visoran and Hobbian forces would find thousands of Dreadnoughts and a fighter force numbering in the hundreds of millions. Foundry ships lined around the Ringworld pumping out more fighters as raw material was transported to the foundries as they exhausted themselves producing more fighters and the occasional Dreadnought as a strike force was built up. A message was transmitted to the approaching fleets

Hello, allies. Our AI have calculated the most likely locations that the cruiser may attack. Trade routes and industrial planets are likely targets. This is why once the rest of our allies are mustered we will begin a patrol around the most likely avenues of attack. If you wish to bring more forces now would be the time.


Across Ignisan space

The authorities were far too late. The very moment the first officers approached the Infiltrators seeking to remove them a message was sent to every Infiltrator unit across their space. The next few seconds would burn themselves into the Ignisian psyche for the rest of their history. Octavian farmers and neighbors accepted by their Ignisian "countrymen" would shatter that trust, though the Ignasae would not live long enough to realize their betrayal. Massive explosions of anti-matter erased cities killing billions instantly and leaving the survivors on crippled planets as the Infiltrators made sure to spread themselves out. Though it was mostly the border planets the message was clear. Octavia was now ready to war against the Ignis States.

The Sildorian border

With the unexpected detonation of the Ignisian Infiltrators, the ones en route to the Sildorians were recalled. Instead a more hostile attack was initiated. The 3rd fleet was sent to push into the Sildorian border territories for the resources within. The fleet seperated into multiple groups comprising of hundreds of ships each not counting the troop transports within. Many a planet would find Octavain ships sending a simple message to their planets,
Assimilate or die!
. The level of carnage that followed would depend on their response, but generally most planets would find MK3 Drones sent en route to their planet to "secure" it for the Imperium.

Diplomatic node South

Code: Select all
Greetings. You have piqued our interest, Octavians. We are the Keepers of the Sanctum, and we are intrigued by your peculiar ways. As such, we request to meet with some of you in person, so that we may discover more about your people and customs. Our intent is to document your people, practices, and architecture within our records, and we have no interest in participating in your current war. Though, if we determine your kind to be deserving of such a gift, further cooperation between our two societies could be initiated, to possibly include potential military support. We hope that you do not pass up this offer, and if you do take it, please transmit coordinates for a meeting place back to us. And remember that our Order holds great knowledge of this life and the next, and that there is much of it that we could share with you.


The diplomatic AI assigned to this quadrant looked over the message repeatedly comparing it to other messages of it's type. Clearly this was a message from a religious empire, but not one the Imperium had encountered as of yet. The Imperium was in a state of panic after the events in the last few weeks so the aggrevation of another state regardless was against it's current directives and so the AI determined that these Keepers would be allowed into the Imperium.

Hello Keepers of the Sanctum. The Imperium shall allow you to come inside the borders of the Imperium. A Mechanator is assigned to meet you at the border station in the Kellar system. We hope our two nations can cultivate good relations with each other especially during this time of chaos


Tal'Talen's Armada

After the incident with the mining ship and the subsequent declaration of war, the fleet headed by Tal'Talen was immediately sent on the warpath. Hundreds of ships left the gassed planet as the requested reinforcements and Octavian settlers arrived. The fleet had now been equipped with FTL interdiction cruisers, Carriers, and then a good deal of repairs for the damaged artillery ship and Dreadnought. If the Dagger had strong enough sensors they would be able to notice the massive fleet incoming. The fleet also intercepted a message showing the Zravvisk battleplan. What foolish organics! Revealing their, (admittedly simple) strategy. The Tactical Codex controlled AI did note that this could be a diversion, but the lack of effective options left the AI confused as to what would their actual strategy be. For now planets around the Zravvisk area would be told to begin producing defensive drones and laser guns for the defense of the planet.
Last edited by Imperial-Octavia on Sat May 16, 2020 10:33 pm, edited 1 time in total.
|| Factbooks ||
| Tech Level: FT |

Current Year: 2421
The Empire of Octavia ✙ "Assimilate or die!"
The Mechanical horde marches forward and it comes for you!

Number of owned Star Systems: 163




Pinnacle news:Today marks the one year anniversary of the start of the Ascension War! Read about how the Imperium was unjustly invaded here! // News from Earth: The Imperium has achieved a glorious victory against bandits in the city of Grozny! The city has undergone demolition to make way for up to date infrastructure for the humans.
This nation was created by The Rapture Republic, inspired by Inkopolia. Now owned by Atkemri.

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Sildorian Empire
Envoy
 
Posts: 257
Founded: Apr 09, 2020
Ex-Nation

Postby Sildorian Empire » Sun May 17, 2020 2:47 am

Imperial-Octavia wrote:
The Sildorian border

With the unexpected detonation of the Ignisian Infiltrators, the ones en route to the Sildorians were recalled. Instead a more hostile attack was initiated. The 3rd fleet was sent to push into the Sildorian border territories for the resources within. The fleet seperated into multiple groups comprising of hundreds of ships each not counting the troop transports within. Many a planet would find Octavain ships sending a simple message to their planets,
Assimilate or die!
. The level of carnage that followed would depend on their response, but generally most planets would find MK3 Drones sent en route to their planet to "secure" it for the Imperium.


Ziamon Starbase, Ziamon System
It was not a good day for Jaggora cur'Sene. In fact, it was a Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day for the Commander of the Frontier System of Ziamon. It had all started with those nine Shroud-bedamned words: "Ma'am, we're detecting a massive breach in the hyperspace." Said by no other than her primary Hyperlane Registrar. Even before she could react, order an Interdiction, Inhibition or anything, the breach was complete. An Octavian battlegroup had breached out into Realspace. "Fine. Fine. Notify Utaris, then put up an open channel to these newcomers. Let's see what they want."

"Attention unidentified fleet Formation," she began, "The Ziamon System is a sovereign component of the Sildorian Empire. Identify yourselves or-" and right as she was making the protocol-based First Contact, she received the unilateral demand of the Octavian Empire. Three words. A threat or a promise, overwrote the Starbase's communication system. Just as Jaggora heard the message on the Bridge of the Starbase, so did everyone else on the base and down there in Ziamon Prime. The demand was such: "Assimilate or die!"


Utaris Complex, Sildora Prime
"Well, I suppose that explains what happened to those so-called defectors." the Archon sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. While he was somewhat glad that few -if any- of the supposedly defecting Octavians had made it to any inhabited World, this only presented a bigger threat. He turned the Holo-table in front of him. The holographic manifestation of the seven Sector governors and the two highest ranking military officers in the Armed Forces were standing in a half circle, all holding the same expression of disgusted, unexpected fatigue that he himself did. "Well; Gentlemen, ladies, what do you make of this?"

"It is exactly as projected", Aschla Rubyclaw, the Grand Admiral of the Sildorian Navy explained in her usual no-nonsense tone. Had she been a humanoid and had she needed glasses, she might have dramatically poked the bridge of her glasses as she began explaining just about how doomed they were. "They have more fighters than we do, and you can't expect our ships to punch through every hostile. Quite frankly, if we take these things head on all by ourselves, we're krevved, thoroughly and completely."

"I'm not about to bow down to an Octavian anytime soon," the Archon sighed. cur'Tholen had a history of being dramatically useless. "Calm down, Venerith. We're not going to accept their little offer." The Grand Marshal said without pause, ignoring the interruption "-but we need to cut our losses here. On land, we're hopeless. My men aren't going to fare well against an unending horde of drones, at least not if the droids have orbital support." he paused. That was an irregularity for the esteemed Grand Marshal. He was usually quite sure about the skills of his "Boys and girls" in taking down anything and everything. "They're punching into Sector V. It's large and it has many planets, but it's not Elgerot or the Core. If we are to fight, we need time."

"And what do you suggest? We pull out the fleets out of my sector and leave billions of my people to their fate?" Varoth cur'Malogin, Governor of the aforementioned Sector V said incredulously. The Archon pinched the bridge of his nose once again. This was going to be a long day.


Sildorian Space
Just as it could be expected, the Empire failed to respond to Octavia's demands. Fleet from all corners of Sildorian Space were mobilized, millions of troops boarded their carriers. Taskforces became Squadrons. Squadrons became Formations. Formations became Fleets. Fleets became Star Orders. Sildoria was nowhere near as powerful as the Octavian Imperium, but it was not going to go down that easily. Thousands of ships -and tens of thousands of hangarcraft docked onboard- would begin to move from all points of Sildorian Space to a designated set of systems in the inner frontiers of Sector V, as shipyards throughout the Empire did their best to produce even more. Sildoria, it appeared, would go to war.
Last edited by Sildorian Empire on Sun May 17, 2020 2:48 am, edited 2 times in total.
Sildorian Empire
Space-faring, quasi-xenophobic fanatic materialist humanoids and associates
Overview || Archon | Military | Species
Daily News: IVC Lothal enters battle with new Xadian Flagship the Dreadnought Ronthawa in Galataea. Lothal had destroyed the 3 previous Xadian flagships in battle. | Mugeya fails to crack Wrothgar Prime, forced to retreat to unknown location in Sildorian Space by the Wrothgar Fleet. IVC Pride II to be rerouted to aid in finding and potentially capturing the hostile World Cracker. | New strain of the Frontline Pox breaks out in Nodex Prime, particularly affects the Xuni thralls. Planetary government passes edict to cull Xuni population to fight the disease before it can affect Silda population.

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The Auraverse
Bureaucrat
 
Posts: 62
Founded: Aug 31, 2019
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby The Auraverse » Sun May 17, 2020 9:05 am

|☉|Orbit of Ziamon Prime|☉|
|Glimmer of the Pale, "Bridge"|




Two shapes reclined in the command chairs of the echoing, white chamber. Between them sat a small table, and on it a teapot had been placed. Certainly an unusually widespread practice among Syndicate ranks, though its exact root cause remained difficult to trace - perhaps it was merely an echoing imprint of the Director's unconscious will and persona, which tended to permeate such things. Regardless, it was indeed tea the two things now sipped, although applying such a verb directly would be problematic. The first appeared as a human man in... oh, perhaps his mid-twenties. Nothing particularly odd about him, physically-speaking - chestnut-brown hair, green eyes, an average complexion. And that would be the end of it, were it not for the fact that he moved not a muscle as his teacup lifted itself from the table, and hovered over to his lips. They remained resolutely closed, and his cheeks immobile, and yet liquid did seem to drain from the cup by some uncertain manner. The only part of him which did, on occasion, denote life, were those selfsame eyes - though unblinking, they moved to track his conversation partner.

Who, it would likely be prudent to mention, was a cloud. A roiling mass of vaguely-translucent gases seemed to fill the opposing chair, swirling in complex patterns. It had no discernible facial features, nor really features of any kind - in its case, the cup didn't even move. But the liquid within would rise as a thin haze, wafting over to the gaseous blob and becoming one with it. Inexplicably, a small nameplate appeared to hold firm on the cloud's surface - the memetic scribbles adorning it were designed to trick most modosophonts into thinking it was written in their native language or scripture.

It read "Greg".

"A tad overbrewed, I'd say."

Its (or perhaps his) voice was surprisingly deep for something with no corporeal form, and tiny sparks appeared to go off in the core of the mass with each syllable. Its conversation partner rolled his eyes - though when he answered, it was not through any movement of the mouth. The sound appeared to simply emanate from some unspecified point in the general area.

"You always say that."

"Because you always overbrew it."

"I like it strong. You know this. We've established this every single time I've ever brewed anything."

"As a matter of fact, on the eve of-."

"Yes, yes, alright, you can drop the pretense. Hyperbole is hardly quantum mechanics."

"One could argue otherwise."

"Please don't."

They each took another sip.

"You know, there's been some curious spatial interference in the processing hub. In-line with our typical aperture transit, but failing to match SynSec patterns."

"I wouldn't put it past R&D to screw around with random internals - let's just hope the anti-tampering measures prevent them from doing anything too stupid."

"Not tampering, per se. Closer to single-body E/E."

"Oh please. Next you'll tell me the Director hopped on in for a visit."

"I wouldn't discount such a thing."

"Mhm. Where's this information coming from, in any case?"

"Oh, I was running maintenance and I found that with my clearance string, I actually get unrestricted access to the internal braneweb, for more or less all the hardware-accessible layers. So I decided to set up a catcher or two - out of curiosity more than anything."

"Since when are you in with the eggheads?"

"Since when are you a luddite?"

"Since-"

They both paused - even the internal swirlings of the cloudmass were slowed for a brief instance.

"You heard that, right?"

"No. Can't hear what isn't sound. I did perceive a change in the-"

"You know what I mean."

"Yes. It's quite grating, actually."

"I didn't set it up."

"Neither did I. I believe it's part of the standard sensor net."

"Denoting what?"

"No idea."

"Gregory, you're quite literally-"

"Actually, it's Gregarious."

"What?"

"Greg is, in this case, short for Gregarious. My name, that is."

"Your birth name?"

"Yes."

"You mean to tell me that your parents, for some inexplicable reason, granted you an arbitrary adjective as a name."

"Yes."

"And you intend for me to believe this despite, in the untold years I've known you, having discovered your near-constant propensity for needling me with assorted quips and foible-exploitations for your own amusement."

"Yes."

"I hate you."

"Ah, but hatred is merely love taken from a different angle."

"And you called me a luddite."

"Actually, I think you'll find-"

"Right, okay. Enough. Query: notification root."

A third voice chimed out - it seemed to come from every wall simultaneously. Its gender was impossible to discern, and its tone bore no emotion whatsoever.

"Realspace contacts, presumed hostile and/or maliciously intrusive."

"Query: specify."

"Proximity: within system exclusion net. Classification: manned spacecraft. Perceived purpose: combative. Number: three hundred and ninety five, bearing the possibility of nested subunits. Allegiance: Octavia."

"Command: stop. What the fuck is an Octavia?"

"How vulgar."

"Well excuse me for getting a little heated over a potentially hostile fleet. Query: threat approximation."

"Threat to Glimmer of the Pale: negligible. Threat to the Syndicate at large: negligible. Threat to planetside operations in proximity: notable. Threat to [INTERACTIVE CLASS: ALLY] in proximity: notable."

"Hm."

"Hm indeed. We are technically posted here to oversee the outpost, aren't we?"

"Technically, yes. I don't think anyone foresaw actual combat. Actually, strike that. If the Director didn't foresee this, I'll be very surprised."

"Which means that we were considered sufficient to mount a potential defense."

"Or that we aren't going to have to mount a defense. They're still listed as a potential hostile, not an overt one."

"A primtech war fleet hailing from an unfriendly power jumps into your system, sends out a broadband hail of "Assimilate or die", and readies its weapons. You don't consider this to be a declaration of hostility?"

"Wait, verbatim?"

"Precisely."

"So what we've got here is a textbook assimilating swarm?"

"Actually, no. I don't think so. Proxies of one, perhaps, but... I don't read anything resembling a neural net from them. For what it's worth, their craft appear to be crewed and operated by wholly independent agents."

"Is the claim of assimilation a trick, then?"

"Could be. The more pressing matter, however, is what exactly we are to do in response."

Another moment of silence - this time devoid even of the sipping of tea.

"Alright. Command: relay status to nearest command node. Enter preliminary combat-readiness."

"Ah, you are finally stirred into action."

"Hush, you. We won't be firing the first shot. But I also don't want the Director being on our asses with regards to a botched expedition we were meant to oversee."

For the first time in the entire conversation, the seemingly-paralyzed man moved something other than his eyes. An arm, shakily brought up in a stretching motion. The other soon followed, and a few moments later he was standing up, massaging the side of his neck. This time, when he spoke, he did so in a more conventional manner - his mouth appeared to actually play a role in the action.

"Oh Void, I hate the first few seconds. Every time."

"Seems a tad unnecessary."

"I prefer tactile controls when it comes to combat management. But then, no sense in wasting energy on muscle movements otherwise. I can use the excess chems to run resonance engines on aux."

"Ah yes, the crippling reliance on a physical body."

The gas cloud rose from its chair, settling into a vaguely trapezoid arrangement.

"Ooooh, look at me, the miniature nebula. Bet you're real fun at parties."

"You would be surprised."

They stood (or, in Greg's case, hovered) there for a few seconds more, before heading off down a hallway that had spontaneously winked into existence within one of the walls. Distant echoes of their bickering bounced around, all the way down to their eventual battle stations. This was going to be an interesting encounter.
Last edited by The Auraverse on Sun May 17, 2020 9:06 am, edited 1 time in total.

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The Azure Syndicate | The Grand Adatan Union | Sol's Children | TBA

A creative writing experiment. 90% of the factbooks are out of date, don't read them.
If you try to apply NS stats to this, then you probably can't read.

Featuring soul weaponization, rampant existential dread and a three-way power struggle between a band of technologically-ascendant scientists, a highly compressed bureaucratic space polity and a nomadic sun-cult wielding precursor technology.

The Federated Soviets of North America wrote:Their leader redesigned the spleen

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Ignis States
Bureaucrat
 
Posts: 61
Founded: Jun 15, 2018
Psychotic Dictatorship

Postby Ignis States » Sun May 17, 2020 4:49 pm

Imperial-Octavia wrote:
Italy

J'eil looked at Mista through his facemask with a look of disgust, "Don't associate me with those halfers. I'm fully assimlated organic.", Cyborgs were degenerates as far as J'eil and the rest of the Imperium were concerned and the fact that this organic was so ignorant as to compare him to one was one of the most insul- Mr. Roboto, J'eil's stand summoned itself seemingly more aware of the conversation as it began scanning the room. J'eil began listening in and realized that Mista may be in for a fight. He would help, but he didn't know what his stand could do. Perhaps if it could keep Mista from getting beamed it'd be good, but until he knew what it could do it was virtually useless. As soon as the idea entered his mind Mr. Roboto would move to Cannolo's computer screen and pulled a light blue bubble from the screen.

Mr. Roboto would then proceed to fire these bubbles across the warehouse covering Mista and Connolo in the bubbles causing them to feel oddly reflective about themselves, "Settings altered with: Reflective concept. Users: Guido Mista, Cannolo Murolo, and J'eil have been modified with concept of reflectiveness. Any hostile action applied to said users will be given back to the hostile for one use only." The stand spoke in a series of beeps and boops which were all oddly understandable. J'eil looked confused as his stand floated around him monitoring the movements of everyone in the room very carefully.

Octavian Ringworld

The Visoran and Hobbian forces would find thousands of Dreadnoughts and a fighter force numbering in the hundreds of millions. Foundry ships lined around the Ringworld pumping out more fighters as raw material was transported to the foundries as they exhausted themselves producing more fighters and the occasional Dreadnought as a strike force was built up. A message was transmitted to the approaching fleets

Hello, allies. Our AI have calculated the most likely locations that the cruiser may attack. Trade routes and industrial planets are likely targets. This is why once the rest of our allies are mustered we will begin a patrol around the most likely avenues of attack. If you wish to bring more forces now would be the time.


Across Ignisan space

The authorities were far too late. The very moment the first officers approached the Infiltrators seeking to remove them a message was sent to every Infiltrator unit across their space. The next few seconds would burn themselves into the Ignisian psyche for the rest of their history. Octavian farmers and neighbors accepted by their Ignisian "countrymen" would shatter that trust, though the Ignasae would not live long enough to realize their betrayal. Massive explosions of anti-matter erased cities killing billions instantly and leaving the survivors on crippled planets as the Infiltrators made sure to spread themselves out. Though it was mostly the border planets the message was clear. Octavia was now ready to war against the Ignis States.

The Sildorian border

With the unexpected detonation of the Ignisian Infiltrators, the ones en route to the Sildorians were recalled. Instead a more hostile attack was initiated. The 3rd fleet was sent to push into the Sildorian border territories for the resources within. The fleet seperated into multiple groups comprising of hundreds of ships each not counting the troop transports within. Many a planet would find Octavain ships sending a simple message to their planets,
Assimilate or die!
. The level of carnage that followed would depend on their response, but generally most planets would find MK3 Drones sent en route to their planet to "secure" it for the Imperium.

Diplomatic node South

Code: Select all
Greetings. You have piqued our interest, Octavians. We are the Keepers of the Sanctum, and we are intrigued by your peculiar ways. As such, we request to meet with some of you in person, so that we may discover more about your people and customs. Our intent is to document your people, practices, and architecture within our records, and we have no interest in participating in your current war. Though, if we determine your kind to be deserving of such a gift, further cooperation between our two societies could be initiated, to possibly include potential military support. We hope that you do not pass up this offer, and if you do take it, please transmit coordinates for a meeting place back to us. And remember that our Order holds great knowledge of this life and the next, and that there is much of it that we could share with you.


The diplomatic AI assigned to this quadrant looked over the message repeatedly comparing it to other messages of it's type. Clearly this was a message from a religious empire, but not one the Imperium had encountered as of yet. The Imperium was in a state of panic after the events in the last few weeks so the aggrevation of another state regardless was against it's current directives and so the AI determined that these Keepers would be allowed into the Imperium.

Hello Keepers of the Sanctum. The Imperium shall allow you to come inside the borders of the Imperium. A Mechanator is assigned to meet you at the border station in the Kellar system. We hope our two nations can cultivate good relations with each other especially during this time of chaos


Tal'Talen's Armada

After the incident with the mining ship and the subsequent declaration of war, the fleet headed by Tal'Talen was immediately sent on the warpath. Hundreds of ships left the gassed planet as the requested reinforcements and Octavian settlers arrived. The fleet had now been equipped with FTL interdiction cruisers, Carriers, and then a good deal of repairs for the damaged artillery ship and Dreadnought. If the Dagger had strong enough sensors they would be able to notice the massive fleet incoming. The fleet also intercepted a message showing the Zravvisk battleplan. What foolish organics! Revealing their, (admittedly simple) strategy. The Tactical Codex controlled AI did note that this could be a diversion, but the lack of effective options left the AI confused as to what would their actual strategy be. For now planets around the Zravvisk area would be told to begin producing defensive drones and laser guns for the defense of the planet.



As the bombs explode, wiping billions of lives off the map in a mere instant, the response is near immediate: News broadcasts from Radentora, Kunstentunaeplae, and Rumae report across the entire Republic to report the happening: A shocking and catastrophic loss of life was dealt by the Octavian menace, a threat that had finally proven itself to be actively dangerous.

Strein stares blankly at the live feeds reporting the destruction, the incoming messages from citizens and governors of the Republic's 40 Themata asking for guidance and a plan.
All noises fade away except for the sound of her heartbeat, her vision turning red. A growl begins to build in her throat as her ears flatten atop her head, the gold paint on her right eye burning away in an instant. A cyan iris blazes with white and red light, tongues of crimson flame erupting from the ground at her feet.

"....You bastard. You slimy, worthless bastard...!" The red light around her gives way to pulsating orange Hatred, the essence of conflict itself. Even the Order she's always been a master of controlling flickers and pulses, changing from a pure white to an unyielding, malevolent purple: The colors of Chaos.

"I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL TEAR YOU APART WITH MY BARE HANDS!!" With a single shout, the energy around the wolf explodes outwards like a grenade of raw power, purple and orange light firing out the top of the castle in a pillar shape. In the very center, a pure white construct shaped like a dragon can be seen rushing upwards, a feral roar of pure, unadulterated fury resounding throughout the entirety of Radentora.
Strein screams towards the heavens, her energy spiking up even further as her rage only compounds. As the ground beneath the lupine shakes, threatening to crumble entirely....she suddenly pauses. The energy around her gradually fades, her body untensing as she takes in a deep breath.

"....I'll kill you, Paramount. Mark my words. For what you've done, death is the only option!"
At once, Strein takes off into the air, flying straight towards the upper atmosphere. As she gets 90 miles up, a hand grabs her shoulder. As she turns around, she's met with the familiar sight of Mark. The broiling rage in her eyes calms down to a simmer as her mentor's right arm erupts into indigo flame.
A hand of bright gold with a palm of pure indigo energy contrasts greatly against the rest of the arm, which is constructed entirely of reddish-black Chaos Metal. The material crackles and sparks with the rage of Khorne himself, desperate to break free of the one who conquered him.

"I'm not stopping you. I'm coming with you, actually. Let's kick his ass together. I've been in the mood for a good fight since the Propatrox shit."
The Propatrox incident... If Strein could go a few days without the death of her entire reality reminding her that her family and friends are all dead or inaccessible, that'd be great.

Regardless, the wolf nods, taking off into the air once more as Mark follows. With that, they make their way directly towards Octavian territory at top speed.
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Near the United Government's cruiser, black smoke coalesces into Zen's shape, both swords unsheathed and held at his side. So this is what he's tasked with destroying...
"An interesting work. Nothing my talents cannot handle. At least with some thinking..." Slowly, deliberately, Zen gently raises his hand, an orb of pure white crystal emerging in the palm.
All energy near the fox is drawn directly towards his hand, which is now radiating a twilight purple. Tendrils of purple lightning erupt from his body, intensifying in both frequency and power.
Around Zen, reality begins to fold, the concept of existence itself being drawn upon for his attack. A power that could shatter universes radiates from his hand, which is now cracking with the monumental power flowing through it.

"Total Erasure Fracture." With that single utterance, thirteen portals emerge around the vulpine, which all glow with the same energy as his palm.
His hand is firmly fixated towards the Cruiser, the palm flickering red for a mere moment...until it fires.

A deafening scream, a howl of the Void itself resounds throughout the battlefield, heard even through space. A monumental torrent of purple, black, and red light erupts from Zen's hand, a cacophony of energy with a force that could scatter a universe into nothingness. The thirteen portals surrounding him fire identical blasts, swirling in a helix shape around the original.

If the vulpine's worried about the potential collateral damage if his blasts miss or backfire, he doesn't show it. His form blurs somewhat, time accelerating around his core of Aether. It seems he's bound and determined to not run out of energy.
Last edited by Ignis States on Sun May 17, 2020 4:50 pm, edited 1 time in total.
What happens when you cross anime powers and overpowered leaders with furries, all written by a bored Homestuck fan with too much time? Well, you get Rumei. A multiethnic, FT republic with both might and magic that let it conquer the entire Orion Arm.
A 7.6 (this is probably outdated but I can’t do the calculations rn) (Tier 9, Level 6, Type 9) according to this index.
Come to The Orion, we got C U L T U R E and F U R R I E S

Show Recommendation: Cobra Kai. It is very, very good.
IC Name: Roman Republic, or simply Rome (Rumei). Occasionally called the Ignisian Republic. Current year is 2697.

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The-International Space Organization
Bureaucrat
 
Posts: 44
Founded: Nov 18, 2019
Moralistic Democracy

Postby The-International Space Organization » Sun May 17, 2020 7:31 pm


MILITARY INFORMATION PROBE JK-3453

The three messages that had been sent were short, simple, and to the point. The QAPAI aboard the probe quickly springing into life, as they extended their hacking tendrils- Latching onto Octavian lines of communication like leeches and parasites, as they flooded communication channels with the three messages, on constant repeat...
TO THE LEADERS OF THE OCTAVIAN IMPERIUM
DUE TO SEVERAL INCIDENTS, INCLUDING AGGRESSIVE ACTIONS TOWARDS ALLIED VESSELS, AGGRESSIVE EXPANSION, NUMEROUS VIOLATIONS OF SENTIENT RIGHTS, AND THREATENING FUTURE ALLIANCE OPERATIONS, THE LANIAKEAN ALLIANCE HAS SEEN FIT TO DECLARE HOSTILITIES TOWARDS YOUR NATION. THAT IS ALL.

This is an official notice from the Military Council of the United Government to the Octavian Government that the cruiser currently engaged within Octavian Space has been given full permission to carry out acts of war against the Octavian Empire, and it's allies, until such a state of war as exists between the powers involved has come to an end through the destruction of the Octavian State and any allies which refuse to surrender.

"Attention, citizens, soldiers, and allies of Octavia! You have all been condemed to death! The moment your leaders and allies declared war on nations with the right to self determination- The moment your leaders decided that this was the only course of action, they sentenced all of you to death. You are being offered a single chance to surrender- Citizens, allies, and soldiers, or you shall face the burning fire which has already engulfed a planet. Those who do not surrender shall be subjected to this same treatment. This state of war shall continue until the Octavian State is no longer an entity that dares threaten the state of the universe. And to those of you who stand to oppose Octavia- Take heed. Aid is coming to those states that stand to oppose the foe now endangering the state of the galaxy."

COMMAND DECK OF THE ARK-ROYAL

"Sir! UG just sent us a message. Chariot is beginning ahead of schedule!" An Aide called, as Grayson ripped his eyes from the monitor infront of him, to the message that had just arrived.

"Coordinate set zero-zero-two! Alert our allies with the LA- Immediate jump, ignore these fuckers who don't even know what a combat range is! Warp-crew, BFDs to full- Helm, accelerate us to full and engage warp when Crew gives you green! Recall all fighters and leave nothing behind for those fuckers to even hint at where we went! Let's burn some tradelanes down to hell!"

"Aye aye, captain!" The bridge erupted into a flury of activity as orders were transmitted, and then confirmed. Coordinates sent to the supporting craft of the Gladian and Allies, as the BFDs spun into full force for an 'emergency' warp. The ships engines kicking into life, as the four ships leapt into motion- Accelerating away like a shot from a cannon barrel, and then snapping into position as the BFDs kicked in, further accelerating the ships up to C-

And then punching clean through, as they raced away to fullfill their part of Operation Chariot...
BRIDGE OF THE UNITED GOVERNMENT CRUISER 'STARFURY'

(written with input from Ignis States)
Ignis States wrote:
Near the United Government's cruiser, black smoke coalesces into Zen's shape, both swords unsheathed and held at his side. So this is what he's tasked with destroying...
"An interesting work. Nothing my talents cannot handle. At least with some thinking..." Slowly, deliberately, Zen gently raises his hand, an orb of pure white crystal emerging in the palm.
All energy near the fox is drawn directly towards his hand, which is now radiating a twilight purple. Tendrils of purple lightning erupt from his body, intensifying in both frequency and power.
Around Zen, reality begins to fold, the concept of existence itself being drawn upon for his attack. A power that could shatter universes radiates from his hand, which is now cracking with the monumental power flowing through it.

"Total Erasure Fracture." With that single utterance, thirteen portals emerge around the vulpine, which all glow with the same energy as his palm.
His hand is firmly fixated towards the Cruiser, the palm flickering red for a mere moment...until it fires.

A deafening scream, a howl of the Void itself resounds throughout the battlefield, heard even through space. A monumental torrent of purple, black, and red light erupts from Zen's hand, a cacophony of energy with a force that could scatter a universe into nothingness. The thirteen portals surrounding him fire identical blasts, swirling in a helix shape around the original.

If the vulpine's worried about the potential collateral damage if his blasts miss or backfire, he doesn't show it. His form blurs somewhat, time accelerating around his core of Aether. It seems he's bound and determined to not run out of energy.

The cruiser leapt into life as Zen appeared. It's sensors instantly detecting the energy build-up, as it leapt from idle to a fraction of a millionth below the speed of light in a second. It's guns snapping to bear as targeting leads were acquired, rechecked, and then confirmed-

And then the defenses of the cruiser leapt into life. The heavy 50MM CIWS spinning up into life in less time than it took Zen to blink. Each shell leaping out of the barrel to cover the gap in seemingly an instant, covering the 50 kilometer gap in the blink of an eye. Each gun pumping out 3.0e+12 shells in a single second- The shells having been configured for 'hard' targets in the half second the guns had spent identifying the target down-range, as the cluster of 15 GT NSCs in each shell went leaping out- Each cluster striking with enough force to tear a universe apart, focused into an area the size of a pinprick across Zen's skin.

To say the results were explosive might have been a minor under-statement, as the cruiser's armor sensors suddenly flared a warning. Something had dented plate 843-32JJ2... Odd.
ISO FLEET ANCHORAGE 'LAST CHANCE', FINITY'S END

"Got a message from Grayson." A communications officer said, as he forwarded the message up the needed chain of commands.

"Huh, what's the Torchie want?" Another asked- "Ain't he an MSGA op, at this point?"

"Yeah, but he's asking for something he can't provide with his limited fleet..."

"... Yeah, I can see that... Has he even coordinated this?"

"No clue. I'm going to hazard a bet, no. It's the Torchie, the only thing he coordinates is bonfires."
When the order came for a fleet move of 100 combat ships, dozens of defensive platforms, and enough industrial ships to equip and army in a few minutes, a few people paid attention. Not many, admittedly, but some did. Back that up with the order for 75 Moth-balled ships to be dragged out into the light, and made ready for transfer? That drew the attention of a few individuals. Not enough to cause delay, but enough that the incident was documented as the tugs began to depart, dragging ships in a rapid fire manner out of their heavy berths, as the crews rushed them to the rally-point now being prepared- The fleet preparing for it's departure towards the Ignis States, to reinforce and aid a new ally...
Last edited by The-International Space Organization on Sun May 17, 2020 7:33 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Guuj Xaat Kil
Diplomat
 
Posts: 706
Founded: May 25, 2019
Father Knows Best State

Postby Guuj Xaat Kil » Mon May 18, 2020 6:54 am

Some system with a destroyed colony
CSS Intrepid, Monolith-Class Exploration-type Ship

"Oh, they've left? Feh, now things are boring. Boooring I say, BOOORING!" the indignant Captain Hiram would shout at nobody as the feed showed the cruiser leaving, and this left them for the most part, on their own in this system, "Bah! AI fire up the ray, let's lay low for the time being and study them from a distance." A ping was all he got in response, and the distant sounds of the ship's engines roaring to life. The ship began moving to its intended target, the glassed world in the system, presumably caused by that cruiser. A few moments later, the frigate-sized warship was in stable orbit over the still burning planet, "Hmm, this wasn't a glassing, this was a burning at the stake," his face contorted into a frown, "How, needlessly primitive." A distant and distinct thrum of a weapon broke him out of his thoughts, and the notifications on his screen would inform him of the ray's- "Ray's... Ray-dy." The monotonous voice of the AI piped up, and Hiram soon had a look of disappointment on his face. "AI what is your humor percentage as of now?" he would inquire, and frowned even more with the AI's response of 'tree fiddy', "Well set it to thirty percent please."

A ping of compliance, then Hiram's shaking of his head, "Fire the ray, let's see what what we can find." And in a fraction of a second, the beam lit up the surroundings with a white light, and in less than a fraction, disappeared. On the surface of the planet, stone and fire gave way to an ever expanding mass of raw information, already was the hole they made in the planet expanding visibly even from this distance. "Ready siphons!" Click and ping, then thrumming of machine, a few minutes later, the planet was nearly converted into information; this was the signal they needed as the info-siphons began vacuuming up said information into containers. Continuous droning permeated throughout the room as the AI began analyzing everything within said containers, and a few seconds later, a ping of completion was heard. In less than twenty minutes the planet had been disintegrated, absorbed, and studied.

Captain Hiram was currently chuckling heartily at the info he was reading, "Heh, H-Palm... Bah! Gods what a stupid name for a stupidly primitive weapon." He quickly put the funny thought on the backburner as he studied the rest of the information at hand. "Octavian Imperium eh? Just your classic old devouring swarm..." he remarked as he put the pad down, "AI set us on a course for some Octavian system please? Preferably one with a lot of fighting, I'd like to study all parties up close, to see what makes them tick, and to see if these Octavians they're any different from what we've seen." Pings of acknowledgement and the familiar rumble of engines was the response he got before he left to check on his crew in the bridge. His end destination was a balcony that gave him a high view of the bridge, and a good podium to shout from, "AI notify crew that their captain's speaking."

Distant pings on monitors, and soon the crew-members had their eyes and ears on him, "Alright, this may sound a little cliche, but I've got news both bad and good, raise hands please if you wanna know the bad news first," a small pause to let them raise those hands, and there were definitely more raised hands than lowered ones, "Alrighty, the bad news is we don't know of a way of going back to our home universe without jumping through various other universes, and that we've stepped into a warzone, a particularly bad one as you will see on your monitors soon enough." He then clasped his hands, "And now, for the good news! It seems like if we jump into a universe then jump out of it and into a new one, we are capable of going back to said universe. And for this second piece of good news, any of you remember the Pacification of Universe 200-40v?" He got nods all around, and knowing smiles from many. "Gods those were the days, blowing up those broccoli-looking ass greenies, stealing their powers and flexing them against them in the second round. Damn good adventure that was." he looked at the men and women below with a smirk, "Adventure... Any of you ready for another one?"

"Aye!"

"ARE YOU?"

"AYE AYE CAPTAIN!"

"Haha! Now that's the bloody spirit! AI let's get a move on and throw ourselves in this mess, I'm feeling like this will be our greatest one yet." And so an adventure began for Captain Hiram of the Intrepid and his crew. Engines thrummed and soon roared. There was only silence from an outside perspective, as expected when in space. And then the sudden disappearance of the frigate-sized explorer ship. Said ship would reappear in a system with many things to study less than a few Planck Time later. But for now they would simply sit there and bide their time so that the rest would fight to the death, they would be content with taking whatever was left in the area.
Former Foreign Minister of the Federation of Allies.
Formerly [REDACTED] and [REDACTED], 8000 combined what the heck.

egg

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Gladian Imperium
Secretary
 
Posts: 34
Founded: Apr 10, 2020
Ex-Nation

Postby Gladian Imperium » Mon May 18, 2020 11:37 am

Sentinel Arrays Alpha-1 through Beta-3, Milky Way proximity.

The AIs saw the missiles coming.

It was simple, really. The latest batch of Impositions indicated their launch and trajectory, and given they had a few hours to go-days, in virtual time, they calmly went about collecting as much data as possible and providing guiders for extrapolation before disconnecting from their built-up Subspace Infrastructure. In the final minutes before impact, each Array fired a small VES charge into the path of the missiles before jumping away.
When said missiles reached their destinations, hopefully, the detonation of said Warheads would create the image that the Sensor Arrays were destroyed.

In the meantime, the Arrays began repositioning, attempting to find another optimal arrangement for their monitoring of Octavian Space.


Former Octavian Colony

The LA Response was, to put it briefly, timely.

The five Warminds immediately began following Mossflower, three of them going ahead and jumping while two enveloped the twin Arsenal Barges in some form of shimmering field, before they too jumped, leaving no trace of where they could have gone. Meanwhile, the Gladian Fleet rapidly swung away from the Pere-Housh Fleet. After a brief moment of hauling themselves together into a coherent formation, the Armada surged through a Wormhole for parts unknown, intending on destroying more Octavian frontier systems.

Finally, the Blind Prophet and 'Twas But A Jest jumped in conjunction, headed towards the coordinates of the Starfury-


Starfury Rendezvous Point

The duo of vessels spontaneously appeared in the outer edges of the system, just in time to see the comparatively diminutive Cruiser obliterate some object with its CIWS systems. Hurrying to send out IFF Signals, the Blind Prophet was the first to hail:

GLADIAN|ARSENAL BARGE-C|BLIND PROPHET
"This is Commander K'thor of the IMC Blind Prophet. I formally apologize for the delay, you are likely more than aware of the...unexpected guests."
An Ancient Galaxy, wracked by cataclysmic war.
A venerable empire, fallen from grace.
New Allies, some older, some younger.
Once more, the Universe opens its gates to the Gladian Imperium


Puppet of Arkeyana, set in the same universe and canon. Flag made by Yegla Islands

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Imperial-Octavia
Chargé d'Affaires
 
Posts: 415
Founded: Apr 29, 2019
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby Imperial-Octavia » Mon May 18, 2020 7:30 pm

The Paramount's Palace

After Zen teleported off The Paramount was finally left alone. The Holo-board showed that the situation had become troublesome. The ISO, United Government, and Laniakeans have declared war on the Imperium and with the other gnats that the Imperium had decided to crush, the war effort had become a far less palatable. Despite this The Paramount still could see victory for him Imperium; in fact victory was necessary. If the Imperium were to lose his price would be subjugated under organics which could not be allowed. The Octavian people could not and would not be forced back into the failure and squalor that presided before he took power. Many of his consciousnesses had found themselves in similar situations, but this time he knew what he had to do to keep the state from imploding. Industrial destruction was a classic tactic of enemies in this type of war and The Paramount would not let them dismantle their empire using such a basic tactic. Using the Imperium's large alloy reserves built up in the hundred years of peace, The Paramount would order massive Foundry ships be built in the core in order to keep the economy moving. Hopefully this would be able to stop the effect of the glassing of their industry.

As The Paramount drafted yet more plans The Tactical Codex summoned him into it's quarters. As The Paramount walked down the stairway into it as the walls slowly became inundated with wires as he got closer to the Codex itself. As The Paramount's metal feet clinked against the stairs he wondered when the Codex would give the module to him as promised. The moment he started thinking of this he would behold the module set out in front of him after the Tactical Codex was practically glowing with it's power. "I have collected enough energy to maintain 200% efficiency. As per our agreement I am now giving it to you the module. Please don't lose it."

"Mmmm, yes. Seeing as you have more of a personality now we'll need to make you a citizen now. We'll hold the cerem-", As The Paramount touched the module yellow strands of electricity flowed throughout The Paramount's body as the module began to merge with his body sliding itself throughout it's arm and to The Paramount's chest imbuing him with a level of power he had not thought possible. Yellow energy flowed through his body as The Paramount fell to the floor. With a bright flash of light The Paramount's sensors would go dark...

The Paramount woke to holographic images of his cabinet and The Paragon who seemed to be watching his `father` of sorts. H'Krell's hologram rushed forward while Tal'Talen and The Paragon moved towards their leader at a slower pace, "Ah! My liege, we thought you had died! I almost rerou-"

The Paramount spoke harshly cutting off the Grand Mechanator, "Yes, yes H'Krell we're sure you were. Would one of you get us what happened?"

Tal'Talen spoke next with her characteristicly loud voice, "The Codex says when that module thing merged with you it overloaded your systems, but obviously your fine. I'm going to go back to thinking about how I'm going to maim those filthy pirates. how dare they scratch the Sword, I'll murder them all for that those da-." The Paramount disconnected Tal'Talen before she really started ranting. As he rose from the maintenance bay he was placed in, he saw he was located in his chambers. As The Paramount began to move his way down to his planning room, he realized that his consciousnesses were oddly peaceful. They certainly weren't slient, but they each contributed to the whole excellently. He also had a sudden urge to test whatever new capabilities this module gave him... Perhaps the issues that he had once saw had just become opportunities? It was something to ponder...

The Ziamon System

Octavian vessels would flow into the Ziannamon System in every path imaginable with thousands of ships comprising the 1st Armada splitying off into every direction. With each planet that refused the offer it was another planet reduced to a husk and every station would find hundreds of ships firing at them. Massive orbital bombardments slammed each planet relentlessly before Attack Drones were sent in to sweep whatever was left up. After that the Drones would be recalled rapidly and work drones deployed to begin exploiting the ruins of the planet for resources and factory space. Just as quickly as the fleet was there it would leave. The fleets would dedicate all of their resources to taking the Ziannamon System quickly to move on to the juicier parts of the Sildorian Empire for the resources within.

Ziamon Prime

The planet here was good for a population center, that was why a Mechanator was assigned to the fleet for the position of governor. That Mechanator was TK'Rantar, the namesake of the Rantar Reforms and the grand bumbler of Cymopolia accompanied. He was apprehensive about leaving his original planet of Persei-8, but in order to man all these new planets experienced Mechanators were needed to man them. Luckily a companion of his was allowed to take management of the world, though he wondered how respected Fluffer would be with his miniscule size. He could almost hear his former pet telling him not to call him that, good times those were.

As they approached the planet they noticed some sort of debris surrounding it which was odd since he was sure that no other fleet had moved through this area with a few taps of his finger his manned Dreadnought ordered some corvettes to scan the field for info while the standard assimlate or die message was sent to the planet below. Rantar had a bad feeling about this, but he couldn't place down a reason as for why, "Oh well, it can't be worse than Cymopolia right?" His onboard AI remained slient, but continued course above the planet.

The Ringworld

A massive blast of energy was detected near one of the predicted locations of the Cruiser. Octavia knew their forces were strong, but if the readings here were right this thing could destroy multiple universes if it wanted to. Being in control of this fleet the Tactical Codex had some choices to make. On the one hand supporting Zen (the most likely option for someone to attack the cruiser head on) could cause the Cruiser to be damaged for a later attack, on the other if the Cruiser got out with inadequate amounts of damage it could make their allies reconsider supporting the Imperium. The Codex decided the risk had to be taken. With the starting of the Dreadnoughts Alcubierre drives the first (and hopefully last) attack on the Cruiser would begin. With that co-ordinates to the newest location of the Cruiser were sent to allies and the ships began their journey.

To allies of Octavia

The United Government Cruiser is about to be engaged. Please arrive in the system and begin firing thank you.


Above the Milky Way

After the missiles went off the stations began another few scans of the top and bottom of the Galaxy. If they managed to escape it would be detected and they would be shot at once again. But for now, they waited for the Array's position to be detected again.
Last edited by Imperial-Octavia on Mon May 18, 2020 7:32 pm, edited 1 time in total.
|| Factbooks ||
| Tech Level: FT |

Current Year: 2421
The Empire of Octavia ✙ "Assimilate or die!"
The Mechanical horde marches forward and it comes for you!

Number of owned Star Systems: 163




Pinnacle news:Today marks the one year anniversary of the start of the Ascension War! Read about how the Imperium was unjustly invaded here! // News from Earth: The Imperium has achieved a glorious victory against bandits in the city of Grozny! The city has undergone demolition to make way for up to date infrastructure for the humans.
This nation was created by The Rapture Republic, inspired by Inkopolia. Now owned by Atkemri.

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Il Passione
Secretary
 
Posts: 33
Founded: Apr 09, 2020
Ex-Nation

Postby Il Passione » Mon May 18, 2020 8:25 pm

Imperial-Octavia wrote:
Italy

J'eil looked at Mista through his facemask with a look of disgust, "Don't associate me with those halfers. I'm fully assimlated organic.", Cyborgs were degenerates as far as J'eil and the rest of the Imperium were concerned and the fact that this organic was so ignorant as to compare him to one was one of the most insul- Mr. Roboto, J'eil's stand summoned itself seemingly more aware of the conversation as it began scanning the room. J'eil began listening in and realized that Mista may be in for a fight. He would help, but he didn't know what his stand could do. Perhaps if it could keep Mista from getting beamed it'd be good, but until he knew what it could do it was virtually useless. As soon as the idea entered his mind Mr. Roboto would move to Cannolo's computer screen and pulled a light blue bubble from the screen.

Mr. Roboto would then proceed to fire these bubbles across the warehouse covering Mista and Connolo in the bubbles causing them to feel oddly reflective about themselves, "Settings altered with: Reflective concept. Users: Guido Mista, Cannolo Murolo, and J'eil have been modified with concept of reflectiveness. Any hostile action applied to said users will be given back to the hostile for one use only." The stand spoke in a series of beeps and boops which were all oddly understandable. J'eil looked confused as his stand floated around him monitoring the movements of everyone in the room very carefully.

"Hey, look, that wasn't what I meant! Sorry, I didn't mean to say it like that!" Mista rebuted as Cannola shushed him, a screen establishing a loading bar.
"He's coming right here soon, I don't think we'll have time for a duelling challenge right now!" Cannolo said, as he saw the bubble float him and then affect him and Mista with the reflection. initially, they felt unusual, but the two seemed to be quite... reflective on themselves. Mista was even wondering how he got into this situation in the back of his mind, but nonetheless he kept focus on the task on keeping on the watch for Reaper.
Current year: 2000.
Since 1985, Passione has been one of the most powerful mafia syndicates and organized crime forces in Italy, possibly the world, despite having as little a 750 members, most of them gifted with extraordinary superpowers.

(This nation mainly relies on lore from the anime/manga series JoJo's Bizarre Adventure, specifically Part 5, Golden Wind. It also uses lore developed in the non-canon light novels Purple Haze Feedback and Golden Heart, Golden Ring, as well as the unrelated anime Black Lagoon. This also contains diverged lore, specifically that everyone can see and interact with stans, Giorno Giovanna never existed, and that Sorbet & Gelato never died nor investigated the boss due to conceded demands.)

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Sildorian Empire
Envoy
 
Posts: 257
Founded: Apr 09, 2020
Ex-Nation

Postby Sildorian Empire » Tue May 19, 2020 1:07 am

Imperial-Octavia wrote:
The Ziamon System

Octavian vessels would flow into the Ziannamon System in every path imaginable with thousands of ships comprising the 1st Armada splitying off into every direction. With each planet that refused the offer it was another planet reduced to a husk and every station would find hundreds of ships firing at them. Massive orbital bombardments slammed each planet relentlessly before Attack Drones were sent in to sweep whatever was left up. After that the Drones would be recalled rapidly and work drones deployed to begin exploiting the ruins of the planet for resources and factory space. Just as quickly as the fleet was there it would leave. The fleets would dedicate all of their resources to taking the Ziannamon System quickly to move on to the juicier parts of the Sildorian Empire for the resources within.

Ziamon Prime

The planet here was good for a population center, that was why a Mechanator was assigned to the fleet for the position of governor. That Mechanator was TK'Rantar, the namesake of the Rantar Reforms and the grand bumbler of Cymopolia accompanied. He was apprehensive about leaving his original planet of Persei-8, but in order to man all these new planets experienced Mechanators were needed to man them. Luckily a companion of his was allowed to take management of the world, though he wondered how respected Fluffer would be with his miniscule size. He could almost hear his former pet telling him not to call him that, good times those were.

As they approached the planet they noticed some sort of debris surrounding it which was odd since he was sure that no other fleet had moved through this area with a few taps of his finger his manned Dreadnought ordered some corvettes to scan the field for info while the standard assimlate or die message was sent to the planet below. Rantar had a bad feeling about this, but he couldn't place down a reason as for why, "Oh well, it can't be worse than Cymopolia right?" His onboard AI remained slient, but continued course above the planet.


Battle of Ziamon
Ziamon Starbase, Ziamon System
"Battlestations!" Major Jaggora cur'Sene snapped as she stared incredulously at the viewport in front of her. "Man your guns, get those platforms online, and prepare all squadrons to launch. Can someone give me a SitRep?" She seethed. The entire point of her being stationed in Ziamon was that Ziamon was a remote backwater that nobody -not pirates, not hostile civilizations, not even spaceborn fauna- cared about. Well, apparently nobody except for what seemed to be a Driven Assimilator. Or something like that, this did not seem entirely like a Machine Civilization.

Within seconds of her orders, the Bridge of the Ziamon Starbase had thrown itself to work harder than anyone working on a Sector V had ever thought they'd need to. The Ziamon Station, a Maladjutant-class Starport station -as was protocol for any inhabited system in the Empire that wasn't a Sector Capital- had three hangars each capable of launching a single hangarcraft squadron. In addition, it had four light laser turrets equipped with Cutting Laser, two Medium Autocannon Kinetic Projectile Launchers and one Medium Missile Turret capable of launching guided Swarmer Missiles. It was meager, but Maladjutant-class Starports hadn't been designed for combat against conventional enemy fleets. The only advantage Ziamon had to most other minor inhabited systems was the existence of its two Defense Platforms. The Silent Lamb-class platform was equally unimpressive. It had a single hangar capable of launching a single squadron. Its armaments were a Medium Kinetic Projectile Launcher and two light repeater laser cannons. That put Sildoria's Order of Battle as such: The Ziamon Station, Two Defense Platforms and 60 hangarcraft. Oh Shroud, they were doomed.

"Governor Rophyte" Major cur'Sene called as she opened a direct channel to the planetary Governor. On the other side of the holo-projector, a plant-like sapient in the robes of a governor was staring at the military officer in front of him. "Major. To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" "There is little time for pleasantries. The Ziamon System is lost."

Rophyte would have narrowed his eyes if he could. He would also have pursed his lips if he had any. As it happens, he didn't. As such, one could only realize from his tone how displeased he was with the fact that the World he himself had patroned the colonization of was going to be lost. "We have only four divisions of troops aboard this World, and the planetary shields will not be able to hold for long against continued bombardment." "You misunderstand me, governor" the major said. "We have little hope of reinforcements. This is not a warning so you might prepare yourself for a lengthy siege. This is an order of evacuation. Begin preparations. We will try to hold them back as long as we can."


Ziamon Prime, Ziamon System
It began on what was, until then, a silent night. Mal Zianam, the planetary capital of the World of Ziamon Prime, was quiet only a small frontier settlement with little night-time entertainment could be. The streets of the only settlement in the planet to be considered a 'city' was patrolled by troops from the Sildorian Army, all recruited from the World itself. Most were asleep, rejuvenating their fatigue from a hard day's work and preparing for the weekend. It was a calm, serene night.

And then the sirens went off. All around the city, residents woke up in panic. They all knew what the sirens meant, they had just never expected to hear it. The voice of the planetary governor woke up the few that had somehow slept through the blaring of the sirens. "Attention all citizen. The World of Ziamon Prime is in immediate danger. Please prepare for Evacuation. Make your way, in orderly fashion, to the nearest port to your general area." Similar messages were dispatched through the World of Ziamon Prime, notifying the citizens to prepare for evacuation.


Ziamon, Sildorian Space
The troops had their orders. Five Squadrons -three fighters and two bombers- launched from their hangars while all batteries aboard the two platforms and the Starbase primed for prolonged combat.
Last edited by Sildorian Empire on Tue May 19, 2020 1:16 am, edited 1 time in total.
Sildorian Empire
Space-faring, quasi-xenophobic fanatic materialist humanoids and associates
Overview || Archon | Military | Species
Daily News: IVC Lothal enters battle with new Xadian Flagship the Dreadnought Ronthawa in Galataea. Lothal had destroyed the 3 previous Xadian flagships in battle. | Mugeya fails to crack Wrothgar Prime, forced to retreat to unknown location in Sildorian Space by the Wrothgar Fleet. IVC Pride II to be rerouted to aid in finding and potentially capturing the hostile World Cracker. | New strain of the Frontline Pox breaks out in Nodex Prime, particularly affects the Xuni thralls. Planetary government passes edict to cull Xuni population to fight the disease before it can affect Silda population.

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Bloodshade
Diplomat
 
Posts: 540
Founded: May 28, 2017
Democratic Socialists

Postby Bloodshade » Tue May 19, 2020 4:04 am

Bloodshade, Tejon

The nation had already been spurred onwards by Octavia's brash position in regards to expansionism. Despite the fact that war was not on Bloodshade's borders yet, fear and paranoia permeated the political atmosphere of Bloodshade. Tejon was their homeland. These imposing jungles of brick and stone, built by Bloodshadian hands. None will dawdle or delay when the clarion call is issued by top brass. Every being on the planet was on edge. They were adamant to go to war but did not have the means to engage in a way that would be conventional. They might've had the means to repel alien civilizations from their homeworld but projecting their power to the galaxy was on their to-do list. The people did not want to cower under their beds when a great, terrible foe arose from the void of space. Every living thing on the planet rose to prepare and protect its home. Ancient, eternal and vengeful beings were summoned to remain vigilant against any that may harm the planet. Armed forces were mobilized and put on alert, dotting the land with multiple planetary defences such as the likes of planet-limited fleets, shielded anti-orbital cannons and orbital defence platforms spaced equidistantly from one another, fitted with point defence guns Assimilation. A disgusting, revolting concept to every living being on Tejon. Diversity was the spice of life and to have that free will snatched away was unimaginable.

Many had crowded outside the parliament building, petitioning the powers that be to issue a clear statement in regards to their policies about the Octavian menace, especially after the disaster that had occurred on Ignisian colonies. While most of the time, Bloodshadian opinion remained divided and varied. This time, it was different. Many were more than adamant in protecting their homeland from further aggression and already, draftees and volunteers were brought up to serve. The Void Fleet was put into action once more and filled the space of the Lyra system, the home system belonging to Bloodshade. Fleets had been prepared, strike crafts stored, armies at the ready to embark and arcane units preparing to form portals but only until the fleets were given the order to make way to the Sildorian Empire and the Ignis Stats but before that, the council had to officially extend a hand to the representatives of both states, Archon Mangolim vur'Jaffab and Strein Draksesa Váradi respectively.

The council of the Countess Ambrosia von Carstein had to convene and discuss what their plan of action would be. There, in a lonely sleazy office somewhere in the Parliament building, Ambrosia and the five had met. Putting aside their differences for once, they were of one heart and mind. Fear, determination and ambition were on the faces of each one of them except for one: Alarielle. The Everqueen of the Elves. Instead of sitting amongst the others on the circular mahogany table, she instead planted herself near a window sill, as she began to monologue while staring blankly into the skyline of Valyria.

"Millions of Tejon's life-blood shall fight and die. Far from their children, husbands, wives and their homeland. Never to come again. What a tragedy. It seems like every senator is up in arms, rattling their sabres and now I simply hope that the rest of you will reconsider this course of action. Have we not learnt from the wars of our ancient homeworld? I remember every single war vividly, mind you all." - Alarielle

"Damn you, woman! Think for a second! Do you want these tin cans coming over to our home turf! They just murdered billions of Ignisians and wiped out entire cities in exchange for what?! The lives of a few of their ghastly spies! That's what! I'm not going to sit idly by while they come to our homeland and spill our own blood on our planet!" - Vishala

Alarielle's face remained sombre and unphased by the lapine's words. She's heard these kinds of justifications countless times and there was no way to counter what she could say. Millions would die now but billions would die if they tarried any longer. Must it always be like this? The Everqueen sighed and defeat, gesturing to the rest that she would dismiss herself from this meeting until Ambrosia swiftly spoke up, to put her mind at ease.

"The senators might rattling their sabres but remember, we're all in this together. In fact, Vishala and I have already decided, in private, that we would lead by example. We're not leaving our soldiers behind and we're going to be going after a certain individual that has caught our attention: The Paramount. Why am I telling you this? Simply put, if I die, I want you to succeed me. You're significantly stronger and wiser than I am. Gods, if I had you by my side, the Paramount would kneel before us but I know that you despise aggression. You fight for the sake of love." - Ambrosia

"Indeed! Wissse Everqueen! I shall attessst to that ssstatement. I am but a simple Skink Chief, your majesty, but if I might remind you, you are one of the few people that the Mage-Priests respect and perhaps revere, even. With your guidance, we shall continue to prosssper and defend this ancient shared home-world of ours..and perhaps, expand." - Hozqa-Tli

All eyes were on the lizard as his last word rang alarm bells but he broke the ice by waving away their concerns and laughing in their faces, giving them the impression that this was a simple joke. Only two people did not share their opinions yet. Henrietta and Victoria. The former was almost always silent and deferent to Ambrosia but the latter was thinking and pondering. Perhaps she was caught off guard by Ambrosia's declaration of a successor. Soon enough, she shared her opinion.

"With all due respect to her Majesty, Vishala is right for once and..." - Victoria

"Damn straight I am!" - Vishala

"Ugh...as I was saying, we have the means to engage the Octavians. Our forces are suitably sized for a planet-sized civilization and there is no shame in that. In any case, reports have come in from certain informants of mine and the Sildorians are not a force to take lightly. Despite the fact that they have suddenly been on the receiving end of the Octavian's brute force, they have yet to commit their forces and I believe that if we reach out to the esteemed Archon and establish diplomatic ties with him and his empire while offering a lending hand in his fight against the Octavians. We'll save our home-world from being tainted by war and we shall be seen as saviours, assuming we are able to win this war." - Victoria

"Our strength does not lie in numbers but in individual strength, overwhelming firepower and manoeuvre warfare, my dear. So what if the Octavians have vast numbers? An elite squad of power armour-clad commandos would take on waves of clankers, given their superior training and equipment. Do not get me started on some of the experimentals that the Countess has so graciously allowed the martial high command to construct. The assault bots are my brainchild." - Henrietta

Ambrosia gestured towards Henrietta to cut down on her rambling and circle member bent her head down in shame, giving the vampire the freedom to conclude this brief meeting.

"Something else. Alarielle, this war will not be a war of death. A friend of mine has lost billions of her own people and there are millions more that would need to be re-settled. I have already drafted the necessary humanitarian plans which would mitigate the after-effects of the Octavian's attack. In any case, I'm adamant in heading on out. It's 11 AM. I'm ready and fresh. My personal ship is stocked with enough supplies that would last me and Vishala a year at the very least and even then, I could co-ordinate with the Arcane Special Forces and create a utility weapon that could send us back to Bloodshade if things go sour. Everything's in motion now. Any questions? No? Good. You're all dismissed. Victoria, you have the liberty of contacting the Sildorian Archon and ensuring that he accepts our aid."

With that done and dusted, Bloodshade was officially at war with Octavia's coalition. Their main objective: Defend Sildoria in order to prevent the Octavians from hopping over to Tejon, the homeworld of the Bloodshadians. From here on out, this was a matter of life and death.



Ignisian Space


Ambrosia and Vishala had been cruising along in their Courier corvette for a few days now, taking turns to pilot the ship as the other would rest. It would've been much simpler if they allowed the ship's A.I to plot the course but the vampire was especially paranoid and for good reason. She was not going to rely on the ship's sensors but rather, she had magically enhanced her eyesight and Vishala's for the period of her journey to Ignisian space, ensuring that they wouldn't be snuck up upon by Octavian fleets.

As they finally closed in on their co-ordinates, Ambrosia and Vishala had finally arrived and the spectacle was horrifying, even from orbit. The duo had zipped to each affected planet and understood just how widespread the carnage was. This was simply too much for Ambrosia to bear. If the Octavians were given the ability to reach Bloodshade, it would be the end of everything their ancestors had built and suffered for. A terrible, tragic end. Regardless, she needed to find Strein and give her some degree of hope.

"By the Old Ones, Ambrosia, we can't let this happen to our home. Where's the white wolf?! We need to get to her, pronto." - Vishala

Two figures were spotted on the ship's sensor and they were already heading straight towards Octavian territory. That wasn't exactly helpful but fortunately, Ambrosia's nimble ship was able to catch up to the duo by recklessly entering hyperdrive and stopping just a few hundred kilometres behind them. According to her own senses, Ambrosia was able to detect the life forces of Strein and what seemed to be Mark. An interesting predicament but regardless, she had to contact them somehow and projecting her thoughts into Strein's mind was the only way.

"Strein! Slow down! Yes, it's me! Ambrosia, I've come here to talk. You'll have plenty of time to fight the Octavians but I'm here to offer a helping hand. I know what happened. Humanitarian fleets and generation ships are on the way to help! We can build temporary settlements for your people or ferry them back to my home planet, Tejon, depending on your situation. Please, your people come first. We're one hundred kilometres opposite of your direction. Turn back, we need to talk." - Ambrosia

With that mind message sent to Strein's way, all Ambrosia and Vishala had to do was wait and fiddle with their thumbs.

"So? Want to play a quick game of Pandemic while we're waiting?" - Vishala



Orbiting Sildora Prime


As Victoria had been beckoned by her superior, Ambrosia, to head into Sildorian Space and hopefully gain an audience with the Archon himself. She was most certainly not about to be dilly-dallied in such an operation and no bureaucrat or law enforcement would spend more time than was needed with her as she attempted to get deeper and deeper into Sildora's core sector. Soon enough, she was orbiting the planet itself but as expected, it would not be simple enough to walk straight into the central government's relevant bureaucratic holdings and demand for a parley with the Archon himself. It wasn't so simple, especially as she had realized when she encountered the Silda border patrol. Great, another obstacle to her goal. Victoria Hoffmeister was a blunt, quick and short-tempered woman but her wits were quick and she knew how to push someone off of her path or persuade them to step aside. In this case, it was the former. She bluntly told the enforcer that she was here on a diplomatic mission and that she should pass this message onto the Archon, stressing that it for his eyes only or else. An enchantment was laid on the letter: Anyone else's eyes would be fried if they tried to read its contents unless the Archon physically hands it over for someone to read or simply burns the letter, destroying both the letter and the information with it. The enchanted letter in question contained the following:

My dear Archon vur'Jaffab, this letter is written by a Bloodshadian representative. I come here on behalf of the federal president, to represent the interests of my people and to offer you a lending hand in these trying times. I shall say this bluntly: I understand just how suspicious a letter such as this would be but rest assured, I shall fully submit myself to your hospitality and Sildorian law. I would kindly request that we begin talks with one another. Simply put, Bloodshade has thousands of ships at the ready, with millions of soldiers ready to deal with the Octavian menace.

P.S: I apologize in advance if anyone's unwanted eyes were burnt spontaneously. That was my doing. I did not want anyone other than you to see the contents of this letter unless you so decided to hand this over to a trusted advisor.

Yours Sincerely
Victoria Hoffstein
Last edited by Bloodshade on Wed May 20, 2020 3:41 am, edited 2 times in total.
An interstellar civilization that survived the self-induced destruction of its now long-gone homeworld and is trying to live the good life, all the while avoiding getting its ass kicked around.
Bloodshade Broadcasting Company| Actually re-writing my lore, I should't be on the forums but I am | Updated my video game screenshots, features Planet Zoo and Warhammer 2 | I need sleep but sleep doesn't need me | Edelgard is the cutest warmonger |

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The Auraverse
Bureaucrat
 
Posts: 62
Founded: Aug 31, 2019
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby The Auraverse » Tue May 19, 2020 4:55 am

|☉|Orbit of Ziamon Prime|☉|
|Glimmer of the Pale|




The swirling spiral-cloud of not-debris that made up the Acus' realspace exterior was accelerating. Faster and faster it spun around its axis - at the core of the brane-disk, a vertical spindle had agglomerated. And then, just like that, the entire assembly was scattered at speeds that shouldn't really be feasible within any conventionally-accepted model of physics. Barely a moment had passed, and Ziamon Prime had found itself encircled. Bits of plating had been spread out into loose, barely-cohesive rings, stretching out over the very edges of the exosphere. Again, nothing notable to anyone not paying much heed to the scattering of orbital debris - and in the current situation, that criterion probably applied to more or less everyone.

Within the twisted, impossible reaches of the vessel's internals, Greg hovered at the center of another stark-white chamber. Shallow grooves and barely-beveled panels adorned the walls in scattered, complex patterns - as tendrils of gas swirled around the room, they brushed over select indentations and button-analogues.

"I've got us set up in a more favourable position, should anything actually prompt a defense."

The reply came seemingly from thin air, and yet was audibly indiscernible from a physically-present conversation partner.

"I see you've gone with the ole ring formation."

"It seemed appropriate. We should have full-spectrum atmospheric coverage - after all, we are protecting planetside assets. Oh, and Sildorian traffic shouldn't be impeded whatsoever. With any luck, they won't even know we're here."

"Until fleets start vanishing."

"Precisely. Have you warded us against more... esoteric attack?"

"Just got approval from the grid. Planet's under DF-grade planelock, and our own stabilizers are long-since up and running. Honestly, I don't think these guys have the technological capacity to warrant it. Seems like a waste of processing power."

"One can never be too sure. I'm bringing the more conventional elements of our defenses into gear, if you'd give me a moment."

"Remember to lock it to our current realspace config. Don't want to be defending a shape that no longer exists."

"Naturally. I'm assuming you'll commandeer the accelerators?"

"Weeeell, I wouldn't call them my specialty, but I am a dab hand at Asteroids."

"What is your specialty?"

"Oh, I'm actually an Executor. I just get a lot of... extended logistical postings."

"Ah. Yes, I think I'm starting to put the pieces together. Though from what I recall, they never did reassemble the Corvic."

"Look, the braneblade has these really tiny buttons - "rend" and "sunder" are really easy to confuse."

"Remind me to never let you near anything with a blade. Or buttons."

"Har har. Will you be directing DT?"

"Yes. Let's leave the Resonators to the control imprint for now."

"Sounds good to me. Command: reassign control - RS1 to system hub. Deploy on general order."

"Acknowledged."

"Ah, good. Is that everything, then?"

"Short of actually blasting things, yes. I guess we'll just have to sit back and watch things develop."

"Marvelous."

Outside, the fragments of Acus drifted in their preset paths. The Octavians would receive a bit more than they bargained for with Ziamon Prime - of that much, there was little doubt.

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The Azure Syndicate | The Grand Adatan Union | Sol's Children | TBA

A creative writing experiment. 90% of the factbooks are out of date, don't read them.
If you try to apply NS stats to this, then you probably can't read.

Featuring soul weaponization, rampant existential dread and a three-way power struggle between a band of technologically-ascendant scientists, a highly compressed bureaucratic space polity and a nomadic sun-cult wielding precursor technology.

The Federated Soviets of North America wrote:Their leader redesigned the spleen

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Imperial-Octavia
Chargé d'Affaires
 
Posts: 415
Founded: Apr 29, 2019
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby Imperial-Octavia » Tue May 19, 2020 4:21 pm

Il Passione wrote:"Hey, look, that wasn't what I meant! Sorry, I didn't mean to say it like that!" Mista rebuted as Cannola shushed him, a screen establishing a loading bar.
"He's coming right here soon, I don't think we'll have time for a duelling challenge right now!" Cannolo said, as he saw the bubble float him and then affect him and Mista with the reflection. initially, they felt unusual, but the two seemed to be quite... reflective on themselves. Mista was even wondering how he got into this situation in the back of his mind, but nonetheless he kept focus on the task on keeping on the watch for Reaper.


Italy

"Just don't make the mistake again. I guess I could understand why an organic might say something like that." J'eil sat waiting for their primitive internet to connect. He felt oddly reflective since his contact with the orb, but he let the thoughts dwell as he didn't have much else to do. He always wanted to be a Mechanator after he saw the propaganda videos, but now that he was one he had to wonder if it was worth it. He had done a few things to fellow synthetics he regretted and these organics didn't seem too stupid like what he had been told. Perhaps The Paramount had lied about things when he had taken over Octavia...J'eil decided it would be best to delete these that series of thoughts and wait in silence

Battle of Ziamon

The Artillery ships fired first, lighting up the void of space with bright flashes sending shells aimed directly at the station shortly before the rest of the fleet fired. The fleet comprising of 40 Artillery ships, the Dreadnought headed by Tk'Rantar, 90 Battleships, 100 Battlecruisers, 2 Carriers, and the rest being smaller ships such as corvettes and cruisers all fired at the station as Drone Fighters were deployed to swarm the station while also testing the strength of the planetary shield of Ziamon Prime with bombing runs. The battle was predicted to last a few minutes before the fleet could turn their full attention to Ziamon Prime. Hopefully the planet would be reasonable and surrender itself leading to a good success to this invasion though some AI noticed some oddly moving debris. For now it could be ignored. It probably wasn't going to be an issue.
|| Factbooks ||
| Tech Level: FT |

Current Year: 2421
The Empire of Octavia ✙ "Assimilate or die!"
The Mechanical horde marches forward and it comes for you!

Number of owned Star Systems: 163




Pinnacle news:Today marks the one year anniversary of the start of the Ascension War! Read about how the Imperium was unjustly invaded here! // News from Earth: The Imperium has achieved a glorious victory against bandits in the city of Grozny! The city has undergone demolition to make way for up to date infrastructure for the humans.
This nation was created by The Rapture Republic, inspired by Inkopolia. Now owned by Atkemri.

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Pax Cybertronian
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1088
Founded: Jun 20, 2017
Corporate Police State

Postby Pax Cybertronian » Tue May 19, 2020 4:47 pm

A response had been promptly received from the Octavian fleet, reading that:

Code: Select all
To: Bombrunner
The allies of Octavia are numerous. In our current alliance we have the Visoran Empire (synthetic), The Hobbes Dystopia (Lead by a synthetic), The Mighty Yamato Empire (organic for now), American Pere Housh (organic), and of course the Deception Empire. That is the complete alliance we currently have.


It was evident that the Octavians had some further allies at their disposal. Perhaps it was also useful to try to glean some additional technology from these allies if possible, though that would come when it came. Before Bombrunner would make any other orders, his fleet received two more messages.

Code: Select all
 As some of you may have heard there is a Cruiser that has caused the Octavian nation some significant harm. In order for all of our nations to achieve our goals we must take this cruiser down. As such we order all Octavian allied vessels to combine at the Octavian Ringworld. From there we will find the Cruiser and whatever may accompany it and destroy it. We recommend you bring the most firepower you can afford to bring. We must leave no chance of this Cruiser's survival and crush it completely.


Bombrunner ordered his fleet to respond promptly to the message, sending it to the pro-Octavian alliance. It was in the interests of the Decepticon Empire to procure the technology of more advanced civilisations and reverse-engineer them for their benefit. This advancement would help to maintain the Decepticons’ position as one of the strongest civilisations on the intergalactic stage, in anticipation for the Intergalactic Council’s inevitable genocide attempt against the Cybertronian race.

Code: Select all
”We seek to comb through the cruiser and procure its technology for our benefit. If possible, we may rebuild it once it’s been taken down and use it in battle, perhaps amongst more ships. As such, we would like for your forces, and for your other allies, to try to keep this ship somewhat salvageable in addition to it being taken down.

Furthermore, if you wish to further collaborate with us to aid the movement, we are happy for you to contact us.”


The message sent, the Decepticons went to work. Notably, they had received a message from

Code: Select all
"Attention, citizens, soldiers, and allies of Octavia! You have all been condemned to death! The moment your leaders and allies declared war on nations with the right to self-determination – the moment your leaders decided that this was the only course of action, they sentenced all of you to death. You are being offered a single chance to surrender- Citizens, allies, and soldiers, or you shall face the burning fire which has already engulfed a planet. Those who do not surrender shall be subjected to this same treatment. This state of war shall continue until the Octavian State is no longer an entity that dares threaten the state of the universe. And to those of you who stand to oppose Octavia- Take heed. Aid is coming to those states that stand to oppose the foe now endangering the state of the galaxy."


Bombrunner scoffed angrily. “Fine by me. If they want to target us and try to wipe us out until our allies stand down, fine.” He turned to his Decepticons. “My Decepticons! Exterminate the Octavians’ enemies from the face of this galaxy! Leave nothing left! To ensure our survival and our victory, burn this galaxy down if the need arises! Surrendering is not an option! If you surrender, and that surrender isn’t to aid the Decepticon Empire, but is instead a cowardly attempt to prolong your life at the detriment to our glorious nation – I will have you personally shot dead on the spot! Death is preferable to surrender! That is all.”

He sat back down. “Lieutenant, remind me to put in a request for some betters hit if this hits the fan.”

Positioned far, far from the fleet inside the system, in a system on the other side of the galaxy, the Worldeaters went to work. Having consumed some of a star’s mass, a Worldeater had a long, long time before it would need to refuel itself. This energy, imbued to them by their own devices, allowed the nanobots inside to rapidly produce Decepticon warships and Decepticon soldiers. These soldiers would be able to transform into fighters and bombers, swarming the cruiser like a pack of locusts, and these ships would be able to assault the cruiser in question, penetrating it with their powerful weaponry. Though deceptively low in number, the three or so Worldeaters were nonetheless able to quickly churn out these forces. Once churned out, these fighters, bombers and warships arrived in the system using Warren drives, which manipulated the knot of invisible quantum tunnels that spanned space-time to arrive promptly near the Ringworld, ready to meet the Crucilandian fleet. Several Worldsweepers had already been sent to further accompany the Octavians beforehand. If the need arose, the Decepticons could always funnel some cybertech-related weaponry and try to shut down all nearby technology, for instance.

The leader of the Decepticon fleet would then say to the Octavian commander, “Ready when you are.”
Last edited by Pax Cybertronian on Tue May 19, 2020 4:48 pm, edited 1 time in total.
My current RP - you can join if you want. | Proud member of The Anti-Democracy League. | If you want to join our region, come and join; you're more than welcome! | My Q&A's here as well.

I do not use NationStates stats. I use my own.


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The Rapture Republic
Diplomat
 
Posts: 623
Founded: Dec 07, 2017
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby The Rapture Republic » Tue May 19, 2020 4:50 pm

Warehouse

Reaper arrived at the Warehouse. He glared at the warehouse, took a breath, stretched out his hand, manifested a small fireball, and swung it at the warehouse’s door. The fireball would oddly be incredibly weak as it would not be strong enough to melt metal or burn wood. He merely did this, by habit and instinct to check if there any defenses up and see if his prey was hidding inside.
Rapture City

  • In the underwater city, two roles have emerged from the City's ongoing civil war: the City Monitors who defend the peace and the Red Caps who fight against unjust systems. The city's infrastructure is crumbling under its own weight and kinship is snuffed by the paranoia of totalitarianism. Yet the people would be in for a surprise as their virtual overlord have died many years ago as the oppression continues under his name...
  • Not an 1-1 exact replica of Bioshock lore and Rapture City. Only the city's atmosphere and setting is maintained.

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Il Passione
Secretary
 
Posts: 33
Founded: Apr 09, 2020
Ex-Nation

Postby Il Passione » Tue May 19, 2020 6:15 pm

The Rapture Republic wrote:
Warehouse

Reaper arrived at the Warehouse. He glared at the warehouse, took a breath, stretched out his hand, manifested a small fireball, and swung it at the warehouse’s door. The fireball would oddly be incredibly weak as it would not be strong enough to melt metal or burn wood. He merely did this, by habit and instinct to check if there any defenses up and see if his prey was hidding inside.

"SHIT, HE'S RIGHT OUTSIDE!" Cannolo said quietly, Mista covering his mouth briefly before pulling out his gun.
"Shut the fuck up, Cannolo..." Mista whispered, getting oddly close to him for a moment. "...eventually he'll most likely leave, but we'll prepare for it if he does enter. Have Watchtower supervise him for the moment." Mista said, before looking to J'eil.

"Hey, buddy, can you only grant one ability at a time, or can you make this place soundproof as well?" Mista whispered, keeping his guard up.

Aeroporto di Venezia Marco Polo, Venice
As the crew jumped off the flight and landed in the wondrous Italian city, Jotaro took a deep breath, looking amongst the crowd in determination as Yukako, Josuke, Okuyasu, Joseph and Koichi followed.

"So, we landed in Venice?" Josuke said, confused about the situation.

"That hole that was blasted into Naples must've made all the Neapolitan airlines shit their pants and redirect their flights." Koichi mentioned. "We can still take the trains if we can get to a station quickly..."

"Good point. But knowing stand users, there's no doubt he'll run into us on the way, and there's probably gonna be trouble..." Joseph mentioned.

"Just count our lucky stars he ain't an asshole." Okuyasu said, Joseph stopping to look at a photo nearby of a modern Venice, his eyes widening.

"...Venice... I... I feel like... I was here a long time ago... during my glory days." Joseph said, Jotaro slapping him on the back gently.

"Come on, old man. We need to get to this stand user before something else happens." Jotaro said, still looking at the photo.


Air Supplena Island, ???
As the sound of gentle breathing echoed through the training halls like a fresh wind and the ground seemed to be warm even in this otherwise cold temperature, a woman who looked somewhat youthful yet with greying hair walked through the halls in her kingdom of isolation, holding a tray with a teapot and two cups. She took a look around her before entering the room, where there laid a main in a wheelchair with two prosthetic legs and a tall haircut.

"...Miss Lisa Lisa?" The man asked, slowly turning around as it was revealed he wore an eyepatch of some kind and had a golden arrow in his lap. "...I see you brought back one of my old favourites."

"Boba tea, half-sweet. I remember hearing from my son you had simply the most joyful reaction after Avdol brought you some." Lisa Lisa stated. "...you may not be here for much, but what matters is you're safe from the gangsters, Polnareff."

"Yeah... those bastards have a hold on everything in Italy. Communications, surveillance, politics... were it not for you conveniently showing up, I wouldn't even be here." Polnareff stated, taking a cup and having a sip.

"So, you heard about that massive hole that was blasted into Naples?" Polnareff asked as Lisa Lisa suddenly put a smile on her face, confusing Polnareff for a moment.

"Well, yes... that does seem terrible, but... I have a feeling this could be a turning of the wheel for you, Polnareff." She asked, Polnareff smirking before suddenly turning to grimace again.

"C'mon, Lis', don't do that... don't give me hope they'll come back for me. As far as they're concerned, I died a long time ago, since 1998." Polnareff said. "Exposing myself would end me for good."

"We can always hope, Polnareff. It's just... a bit of an instinct, that's all." Lisa Lisa said, as her assistant Messina then entered.

"Another one fell down the Hell Climb Pillar, madam." Messina noted as Lisa Lisa sighed.

"I'll be back, Polnareff. Just remember... they'll come for us eventually."

"
Current year: 2000.
Since 1985, Passione has been one of the most powerful mafia syndicates and organized crime forces in Italy, possibly the world, despite having as little a 750 members, most of them gifted with extraordinary superpowers.

(This nation mainly relies on lore from the anime/manga series JoJo's Bizarre Adventure, specifically Part 5, Golden Wind. It also uses lore developed in the non-canon light novels Purple Haze Feedback and Golden Heart, Golden Ring, as well as the unrelated anime Black Lagoon. This also contains diverged lore, specifically that everyone can see and interact with stans, Giorno Giovanna never existed, and that Sorbet & Gelato never died nor investigated the boss due to conceded demands.)

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Imperial-Octavia
Chargé d'Affaires
 
Posts: 415
Founded: Apr 29, 2019
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby Imperial-Octavia » Tue May 19, 2020 6:31 pm

Italy

Reaper would feel the effect of his fireball redirected back onto him despite it's weakness. J'eil was immediately informed by his stand and his worry immediately showed. Mr. Roboto appeared before Mista in response to his question, "Negative. Objects can only hold one concept, would yo-"

"STOP COMING OUT WITHOUT MY PERMISSION DAMNIT!", J'eil snapped at his stand seemingly from stress before realizing he had probably exposed them to this Reaper figure. Knowing that it wasn't long before this Reaper did something to them J'eil began to devise a plan. Knowing that Reaper had the beam and would have already had one thing reflected and may be able to work out what his stand had done he began pushing the table with the reflection concept in front of the door. Then with a snap of his fingers Mr. Roboto reappeared, "Mr. Roboto, cover everything inside this building with reflection, now!" The stand did as it was told spraying the warehouse in light blue orbs, skipping things the reflect concept was already applied to as it would have no effect. Finally J'eil began to pull Mista and Cannolo closer to himself and began whispering, "Listen organics, the moment his magic comes out I'm going to pick you up and run while he deals with the reflected damage. DO NOT try anything else or so help me Entity I will drown you in one of the sewers around here, got it?"
|| Factbooks ||
| Tech Level: FT |

Current Year: 2421
The Empire of Octavia ✙ "Assimilate or die!"
The Mechanical horde marches forward and it comes for you!

Number of owned Star Systems: 163




Pinnacle news:Today marks the one year anniversary of the start of the Ascension War! Read about how the Imperium was unjustly invaded here! // News from Earth: The Imperium has achieved a glorious victory against bandits in the city of Grozny! The city has undergone demolition to make way for up to date infrastructure for the humans.
This nation was created by The Rapture Republic, inspired by Inkopolia. Now owned by Atkemri.

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The Rapture Republic
Diplomat
 
Posts: 623
Founded: Dec 07, 2017
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby The Rapture Republic » Tue May 19, 2020 7:44 pm

Reaper felt a pinch against his chest. It was his fireball. He leaned front, staring down the warehouse. His hands tucked into his pant’s pockets. “Bad move, Clown.” He snickered, and suddenly the ground exploded beneath the warehouse, launching it several miles above the surface, and then with a blinding light, the warehouse would be strucked by multiple etherion beams, and as they speed towards the warehouse. A bubble would manifested, and trap the inhabitants inside the warehouse, unable to escape, as the beams made impact, and unleashed devastating nation-ending power upon the enemy. Repeating the Prison Incident once again but above the surface, and with a sight for all to witness its lethal majesty, and take note that there is a threat about, and one that has decided to feed on anything that dares provokes it.

The enclosed yet sealed destructive spectacle soon dissipated and eventually ceased entirely and whatever was left behind would fall to the earth. For Reaper to clean up, as this attack showed no signs of him being tired by it, and remained prefect in good condition. As this spell was a minor one, as he still had no reason to go all out, and remained disappointed. With him making the conclusion that he just ran into another Poplo.[/align]
Rapture City

  • In the underwater city, two roles have emerged from the City's ongoing civil war: the City Monitors who defend the peace and the Red Caps who fight against unjust systems. The city's infrastructure is crumbling under its own weight and kinship is snuffed by the paranoia of totalitarianism. Yet the people would be in for a surprise as their virtual overlord have died many years ago as the oppression continues under his name...
  • Not an 1-1 exact replica of Bioshock lore and Rapture City. Only the city's atmosphere and setting is maintained.

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Imperial-Octavia
Chargé d'Affaires
 
Posts: 415
Founded: Apr 29, 2019
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby Imperial-Octavia » Tue May 19, 2020 8:23 pm

Italy

The reflects would do their job well in the first round of lasers. As the ground exploded Reaper would feel it along with every last one of the initial lasers. Past that however, J'eil knew that his reflect had run out and that if another wasn't applied to him and the organics again they would be reduced to ash in a few seconds. While in the middle of a reflected beam, J'eil could see the beginnings of yet another and if his calculations were right he had around 10 seconds to apply another round of Reflect. Since Mista and Cannolo had already been pulled to J'eil before the building was raised Mr. Roboto was able to apply the Reflect orbs to the two organics from each of his hands, but then he realized he would be unable to apply it to himself. As the seconds went along J'eil began panicking as he saw the beam approach closer and closer and with every second he spent thinking the more panic built up inside of him. 8.554 seconds had past and J'eil could have stuck out his fake tongue to taste the laser when he finally yelled out in equal measures of desperation, terror, and realization, "MOUTH!" With that shout, Mr. Roboto formed a massive gaping hole in his face and shot out the Reflect orb from it, just in time to save J'eil. Mr. Roboto was able to keep the reflect on the group causing Reaper to feel each one of his lasers blasts reflected on himself. And then the bubble dissapeared.

As J'eil, Mista and Cannolo dropped, Mr. Roboto hovered in front of J'eil calmly. With a series of beeps the stand said, "User J'eil is in danger, what concept would you need to live." J'eil looked at the situation around him and came up with a response near instantly

"Flight! Give us flight!" Pulling a white bubble from J'eil's head, Mr. Roboto began shooting these orbs at the group and as they were hit they would feel themselves slowly ease into a sort of flight. Stabilizing himself, J'eil looked at the others, "We should move somewhere far away from here. If he hits us now we're dead." With that J'eil would begin flying to his North going no where in particular.
|| Factbooks ||
| Tech Level: FT |

Current Year: 2421
The Empire of Octavia ✙ "Assimilate or die!"
The Mechanical horde marches forward and it comes for you!

Number of owned Star Systems: 163




Pinnacle news:Today marks the one year anniversary of the start of the Ascension War! Read about how the Imperium was unjustly invaded here! // News from Earth: The Imperium has achieved a glorious victory against bandits in the city of Grozny! The city has undergone demolition to make way for up to date infrastructure for the humans.
This nation was created by The Rapture Republic, inspired by Inkopolia. Now owned by Atkemri.

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