GALNET [FT][OPEN]

[Lady Scylla]

The Galactic Network

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Welcome to GALNET.

Feel free to browse the Galactic Network for news from starstates across the Galaxy. Keep up to date on the general state of affairs, follow up on developing stories, and make sure you never miss out on astronational events. With GALNET, you get full access to news broadcasters from across the galaxy, and are able to quickly, and easily search for headlines from specific nations. GALNET's extranet was established following the Galactic Communications Initiative signed by the Vipran Imperium, the Solont, the Scythian Empire, the UIK, and the Eridani Imperium as an open-access extranet that any nation could connect to without issue in an effort to standardise galactic civilian communications.

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OoC: Now I bore you with the OoC drab. This is a community project for those in the FT (Future-Tech) setting to post current events about their nation for others to see. You may post news articles, RP out video or podcasts, post advertisements, and so on. The only thing that needs to be followed is anchoring. Essentially, the idea behind GALNET is that people can use the search function to find news about a specific nation within this thread. To ensure this, I recommend that you copy this code:

Code: Select all

[size=50][color=gray]ANCHOR-X [/color][/size]

Where 'X' is -- you need to put your FT nation name. For example, I RP as the Scythian Empire, so I would put that in place of X. So it'd be ANCHOR-Scythian Empire.

In order to search for articles relating to a specific nation, you'll want to type in 'ANCHOR-Scythian Empire'

Other than that, that's it. Everything else from this point on is strictly IC.

[Lady Scylla]

ANCHOR-Scythian Empire

The Surren War over, says Scythians

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New Hong Kong, Scythian Empire

What initially began weeks ago as the Surren Incident, and quickly escalated into full-scale war between the Eridani Imperium and the Scythian Empire, has finally come to a close says the coalition government. The incident began over a series of territorial mining disputes that saw the Scythians launching a major offensive against Eridani forces in a number of sectors within their so-called Protectorates region.

Within weeks, the offensive had seen the loss of nearly half of Eridani territory, and set the Scythians bearing down on Eridani core systems. The war took a turn in the Eridani sector of Faering where Eridani defenders alongside allies managed to repel the Scythian onslaught. As the Eridani counter-attack began to pick up steam, the Scythians were forced into full retreat, losing major ground they had gained. However, with the arrival of more reinforcements from the Hypatia anchorage, the Scythians managed to hold their ground in three sectors. And just as quickly as they had picked up steam, the Eridani lost momentum forcing the conflict into a gridlock with neither side able to budge.

The war finally came to its conclusion with the signing of the 'White-Gold Accords' establishing a DMZ along Scythian occupied regions, and a formal end to hostilities. The coalition government championed the treaty, which saw the meeting of both empire's monarchs during the ceremony. In addition to the cessation in hostilities, the accords outlined a general layout for diplomatic direction between the two empires. Both parties have pulled back from the DMZ as agreed, and while security stations have been put in place, both parties have agreed to keep the borders between this contested region open for civilian access. In addition, the Scythians were made to make a series of concessions including the construction of a shieldworld for the Eridani, and rebuilding the orbital ring around Midgardr, which was destroyed by the Scythians during their push into the Faering sector.

[New Dornalia]

ANCHOR-New Dornalia

.....and we'll be back to our coverage of the Corvid Cream Classic, after these messages.

The imagery begins with a blank, black screen. Then...imagery appears. It's a hangar. It's dimly lit, but one can tell there is a fighter of some sort inside. It's bathed in shadows, but it looks fairly stout, menacing even. The fighter is being viewed from a front view.

Suddenly, the camera zooms out. It's the same frontal view. However, now more of the hangar interior is visible.

.....AND THEN.....

....lights begin to turn on. The sound is heavy, pounding as the lights begin to turn on, slowly, from the rear of the hangar to near the fighter itself. The fighter is revealed to be a design which looks deceptively old school, as if the 1980s lost a jet fighter and really needs it back. It has swing-wings, a somewhat conventional canopy, and a pair of fins at the back. However, it looks a bit sleeker, and more high-tech than those old 1980s fighters. A few brief still shots flash by, taken not only from the side, but also at Dutch angles and even the top. They give a good look at the sides of the plane. Namely, at the back, there are a pair of large parts from which the exhaust vents come out. There appears to be a large underslung cannon. And, the whole thing looks rather....more articulated than a standard jet. It even has nose art on the side, which proclaims the jet to be the "El Tigre Chino."

Then, the shots return to the front view. A woman in a business suit walks on screen. She's some what middle aged, but professional looking, with short blonde hair, a knee length skirt, average build. She looks at the plane, and then looks at the viewer. With a nod and a professional tone, accented with a strange Canadian-German-Japanese influenced accent, the woman speaks.

"My name is Donaldina Krause. I'm the founder of LanserWerks."

Pointing to the fighter, she then says, proudly, "And this is a Valkyrie FGA.6 transformable fighter bomber."

Continuing, the camera zooms in on Donaldina, as she walks around the fighter, leading the audience in an unusual sort of walk-and-talk meeting as the camera continues to track Donaldina.

"During the Dornalian Civil War, my company was responsible for making the FGA.6 upgrade program possible--an upgrade and new production program which helped save lives and protect my homeworld of Hajarra in its darkest hour."

Interspaced with the walk and talk is footage from the past.

At first, the footage is in black and white, and depicts unrelenting scenes of combat in a rapid montage. The fighting is extensive, with AAA and SAMs firing into the sky at what look like swarms of Viper Mk.2s mixed with other swarms of fighters and bombers. The destruction is extensive, and images of civilians running to bomb shelters, frightened children and women. The fighting is fierce, with dueling fighters and ships in orbit dancing through what can be charitably described as "bullet hell"--unrelenting flak fields and shimmering energy shields. Hajarran ships--many of them familiar Dornalian designs with different paint schemes--can be seen exchanging fire with enemy vessels, whose jerryrigged look isn’t stopping them from fighting like men possessed (and it is likely some of them are).

Sounds of radio chatter can be heard in and out overlaid over the footage. It's all emotions swirling at once, arranged in what is an unrelenting assault on the auditory nerve. If the audience feels unnerved, then yes, the montage is doing its job.

”Garuda 2-1 we’re--”

“--multiple targets spotted on the horizon, I repeat multiple targets--”

“--WE NEED MEDICS HERE NOW! Linh-Mina’s Blown Eardrums, THEY’RE KILLING US--”

“--I’m outta rounds! Repeat, I’m out! Gonna need some hel--OH GOD NO!”

The imagery cuts back to Donaldina temporarily, as she speaks with the stern diction of a Shakespearean actor in full monologue:

"Our people didn't have many resources to work with. Our people had their backs to the wall, held there by an army of madmen--the Mahdist insurgents who were tearing everything we knew apart in an orgy of violence, decadence, and sadistic murder. Lead by their deadliest fighting men, they had put us under seige. We were on our own, cut off from help due to the madness of a Civil War.”

Pausing, Donaldina then declares, “And yet...something good happened.”

Next, more footage appears. This time, the footage is in color, and depicts a flurry of activity. Heroic, driving music begins to play as images flash by the screen, in a mirror of the previous montage. But unlike the last set of images, the images are more optimistic.

Namely, there are teams of men and women rescuing civilians from the rubble. Teams of soldiers and sailors--both wearing Dornalian uniforms and the slightly different Hajarran uniforms, whose throwback look resembles those of the Valkyria Chronicles heroes with more futuristic touches--can be seen manning AAA and SAM installations, screaming at the foe. A female doctor can be seen in a makeshift hospital ward in what looks like a school, running around with a tablet, pointing at men and women in civilian clothing wearing white M1 Helmet liners with red crosses on them. A man in power armor can be seen comforting a child crying into his armor in full anguish. Pilots can be seen flying in formation.

Donaldina continues speaking, her tone crescendoing as quiet, but furious passion infiltrates her voice as she speaks over the images.

“Our planet’s finest minds put their resources together to fight the foe. Scientists. Engineers. Laborers. Patriots. Everyone who could did what they could to stop the killers from destroying us utterly underfoot. Just because we had our backs to the wall, we weren’t going to stop kicking and screaming. We would not go gentle into that good night!”

And then, even more imagery. This time, a politician can be seen shaking a man’s hand. Then, a team of men and women in white coats can be seen around drafting tables and workstations, with a model of a VF-1 Valkyrie on the desk. There’s imagery of a younger version of Donaldina herself, standing in front of a room of people with a whiteboard and markers, shouting at people.

“And, so, we, the LanserWerks firm, stepped into the picture. We--a small start up, with little experience working in defense--had been chosen to lead the FGA.6 Project.”

Men and women can be seen with skeptical faces, and among the sea of skepticism is an opinion headline from a local newspaper that says simply, “Donaldina the Deluded--they can’t do it!” Donaldina continues to speak, her tone taking on a tone that while dignified, has a streak of annoyance to it.

“There were doubters and those who feared that a heretofore obscure engineering firm that did repair and modification of automobiles and defense articles couldn’t handle the mighty struggle of ensuring we had transforming fighter-bombers to meet the enemy’s challenge.”

Now, there’s even imagery of Donaldina in a flight suit, in a cockpit of the first FGA.6, beaming proudly after a test flight. And finally, there are extended clips of factory workers hard at work, breaking down old airframes, extending them, adding on new weapons and avionics, so on and so forth. All the way, the imagery is filmed and edited in such a way as to glorify even the lowliest welder. There are no bit parts here--only heroes. Donaldina continues speaking, her enthusiasm driving the ad forward.

“And yet, unhesitatingly, and with naught but our own initiative and skill, my firm and I pushed onwards. As project leader, we gathered the best and brightest. We tested the planes ourselves, and brought the best out of our people to make the impossible possible. The result?”

The commercial now cuts to Donaldina herself, pausing the music as Donaldina can be seen looking at the FGA.6 fighter. With a proud smile, she then declares, “This was the result. A war winner. Fighters like this FGA.6 won battles, working hand in hand with their comrades to utterly lay low those who would terrorize women and children.”

Putting her hand on the structure, Donaldina confidently declares, “For the first time, the Mahdists felt the very fear that they had placed into the hearts of so many others on Hajarra…”

As she speaks, more footage. This time, the FGA.6 in combat can be seen, not only in its basic fighter form, but also in its transitional Gerwalk mode and even in full mecha mode. One particular example even has a FGA.6--fully transformed into a humanoid shape--bringing down an axe upon a Mahdist mecha, before spinning it around so its pommel faced the doomed mecha, whereupon a loud explosion and flash finished off the enemy. Another example has several formations’ worth of Vipers with Mahdist symbols flying towards two FGA.6s and one Jormungandr-Valkyrie, wherein clouds upon clouds of missiles fly outwards, swirling about and either striking each enemy fighter or otherwise driving the rest to evade and flee, only to be hunted by others.

“...and for those who had been the hunted….now they would do the hunting.”

Cutting back to Donaldina, she smiles and declares:

“This particular example, crewed by the team of Jocko Grunewald and his Weapons Systems Officer, Karen Krause--my baby sister--slew 57 enemy fighters by the time the siege was lifted. And there are many more stories like theirs from the Civil War era. Tales of men and women taking to sky and stars, acting as the guardians of a very grateful populace below.”

Pausing, Donaldina then says to the audience, “Anyway, that is, as they say, history. And now, the Valkyrie FGA.6 which was forged in the fires of hope and determination is available for your forces, so that they too can experience victory.”

With a dramatic pause, Donaldina finished with, “So. You in?”

The commercial ends with a cut to the LanserWerks logo, as well as contact information….

[Lady Scylla]

ANCHOR-Scythian Empire

Scythia, Eridani sign Surren Treaty

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In a surprising turn following the end of the costly, but short Surren War between the Eridani and Scythian Empires, the two nations agreed to move past this blemish on their relations by signing the 'Surren Treaty'. Up to this point, Scythia had been occupying three sectors, roughly a hundred systems that had been taken during the conflict a month ago. The fate of these regions, collectively known as the 'Scythian Occupation Zone' or Sozed, for short, was unknown. The war had originally began as a complicated dispute over Scythian mining in the Eridani 'protectorates', regions on the fringe of the Eridani Imperium that operated mostly autonomously. Scythia didn't recognise Eridani claim over these areas, and a perceived hostile response sparked the conflict.

With this latest treaty, following the White Gold Accords which officially ended hostilities, the Scythians transferred the SOZ back to the Eridani in exchange for limited mining rights in the region. Since the signing, Scythian forces have begun their withdraw from the region, with the 5th and 7th fleets expected to leave by the end of the week. This does raise the question of Scythian military facilities, many of which still remain, and the Scythian Empire has little to no plans on removing them. A planet the Scythians had dubbed 'Roland' in honour of Admiral Roland Yamasato, who was killed in the battle of Faering, contains the largest of Scythian military installations, including a settlement that had been created for the stationing of troops that will now lie abandon.

Along these facilities, the Galactic Commerce Corridor, of which both nations are a party, had, on request of the Scythian Empire, put in place a GCC gateway near Roland. In the legislation from the Coalition on the funding for this structure, the Scythian government described it as a 'necessity' to boost the economy in the SOZ, but as the Scythians withdraw, its fate remains to be seen. It is likely the Eridani will assume control over the structure following the Scythian withdraw, even though they have a GCC node of their own already.

Despite the treaty, many in the Coalition have expressed anxiety over Eridani military power. While the war saw the Eridani crippled, analysts have noted the nation's booming weapons industry and are expecting the Eridani to quickly rebuild their forces faster than expected in reports and assessments following the White Gold Accords. This rebound, analysts say, may prove to be problematic for the Scythians who have interests in the Delta Quadrant. Whether or not this will sour Scytho-Eridani relations is unknown, but according to a new report released by the 'Office of Military Intelligence' the ''Eridani growth following the conflict is being closely monitored, and assessed by Military Intelligence, Foreign Affairs, and other offices of government to determine the impact, if any, on Scythian foreign policy within the Delta Quadrant.''

While the situation appears resolved with the Eridani, the presence of Rudanese vessels from the Radiant Empire of Roania during the Battle of Faering has created public anxiety. This came after an assessment following the battle by the 'Imperial Office of Military Review' noted the presence of the vessels. According to the Radiant, the vessels had acted against orders of the Rudanese government, but public opinion has shifted towards concern of another potential war. Despite this, the OMI assured the public that the situation was being handled, and that ''further conflict with Eridani allies seem an unlikely possibility.''


Election Looms for Coalition

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With days remaining until the start of the Coalition election, tensions have remained high for senators, as many wonder if the ruling Ares United party can retain its position. The election was called last quarter during annual review of public opinion by the Imperial Magistrate. Ares United has remained the dominant party for nearly two decades, but following the approval falling below 30% last quarter, the Magistrate has ordered an election. The party has received sharp criticism, especially as of late, with the passing of policies seen as being anti-xeno, and repealing legislation that protected consumers from faulty augmentation upgrades. While its still too early to tell, some political analysts have speculated that the Scythian Republican Party and the Unity Party might be the ones to gain the most in the election, creating a tough race for the chairman at the end.

[The Solar Cooperative Union]

ANCHOR-SCU

Euclidea System Officially Petitions for Entry Into The Union, Emergency Aid Package Approved.

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Following a disastrous span of economic downturn and political instability undoubtedly sparked by the roiling conflict of the War the system of Euclidea and more notably its most populous world Archimedola has officially requested admission into the Solar Cooperative Union. The request marks a historic occasion as the first formerly independent polity requesting Federation into the Union in more than 200 years since the end of the Niltheim War and the official founding of the Union.

Euclidea has long been regarded as the gem of the Fringe, the wide swath of space extending around the Union proper inhabited by culturally and economically linked but politically independent Solarian nations. The planet Archimedola serves as something of a point of connection between the Federalized and hypothetically orderly world of the Union and the much more dispersed and rugged landscape of the Fringe. With a population greater than many Federalized worlds and an economy to match, Archimedola and its satellite polities throughout the Euclidea system have long secured their independence through economic might and the assurance that their role as the broker of the Fringe would prevent any disaster from befalling them. However, since the end of the War a number of unforeseeable issues have rocked the foundations on which this prosperity was built.

The first and most circulated in the Unions press was the assassination of Premier Vasitcha Vastichoval and attempted coup orchestrated by the remnants of the Lexmada Military which had been scattered near the end of the War but had reformed in a large enough capacity to threaten the sovereignty of Euclidea. Despite the best efforts of Lexmadan Remnants and their supporters the coup was defeated in a brief spat of bloodshed and arrests on Archimedola. The shock to the political stability of the system could not be contained however as investors withdrew their commitments and a run on the banks occurred before any regulatory action could be enacted to prevent it. The Euclidean Hexa plummeted in value and within a matter of weeks the system was facing total economic collapse. Fears that the economic woes of Euclidea and the remnants of previously defeated forces might make themselves similarly present in other Fringe States has resulted in a wide number of reactions from increasing cooperation between Fringe States to rapid armament and securitization.

Unfortunately, no measures could come in time for Euclidea as the government, still pockmarked by the coup failed to prevent the cascading systems failure and soon saw itself nearing collapse. In light of this the Euclidean Peoples Assembly, the formally recognized government of the System, has extended a request of admission to the Solar Cooperative Union in a bid to prevent something similar to the disasters seen at Niltheim more than two centuries ago. While the admission cannot be accepted without a three fourths majority in the Consortium, which cannot be achieved between official sessions, an emergency aid package has been approved by the UID along with a peacekeeping commitment of substantial size. The exact turns this ordeal will take next are a mystery but it can be assured that the presence of a Union Fleet and financial might will certainly inject a stabilizing element into the quickly escalating situation.

[Vipra]

ANCHOR-Vipra

United Allurus Information Network

Dynastic Union of the Imperiums
Royal ties between the Vipran and Eridani Imperiums secured

Despite relations only recently opening in an official capacity between the Vipran Imperium and Eridani Imperium a royal marriage between the ruling dynasties of both has already been announced. This comes as a pleasant surprise after the recent conflict between the Scythians and Eridani and subsequent interest in their regions of space. The damage wrought upon both nations as a result of the brief but destructive Surren War having lead analysts to expect significant pressure on both nations from the Vipran crown. Some had gone so far as to state that they anticipated outright invasions of one or both nations in their time of weakness. Yet it seems the Crown was more interested in economic development and diplomacy than military expansionism.

An announcement from the Imperial Palace confirmed this as, rather than returning with just treaties and trade arrangements after a visit to the Eridani state, Senior Diplomat Vakilli Szveraman arranged for a marital union as well while treating with the Eridani. In the declaration from the palace it was disclosed that Prince Vaesheer Alataryx, eldest son of Imperatrix Thanalli Alataryx, would be entering into a union with Princess Reja Silveraxe, niece of the late Arngrim III Silveraxe and first cousin of reigning empress Rowan Silvershield. Celebrations are planned for two sequential weddings, one in the Eridani tradition in their capital of Bronzehelm on Kadria while another will take place two weeks later in Bathurdul on Allurus during Pontisav.

The reception among the general Vipran public has so far been exuberant, welcoming the new member of the Imperial household, while the corporations scramble to take advantage of the promotional opportunities. Silver axe and shield pins are already being produced by Wikalaman Textiles and Fashion in honour of the Eridani royal house while Pollöke Climate Engineering Conglomerate has named a partially terraformed world after the Eridani princess and have given a portion of the future land over to the couple. Tourism to and from the Eridani Imperium has similarly turned into an industry overnight, numbers from Csarser Shipping and Freight’s public records confirming a sudden spike in movement to and from the state following the announcement.

Misgivings are present however, particularly among those who had hoped for a military intervention. The Vipran Universality League for instance has claimed this is a “direct threat to Vipran territorial hegemony” and that “inviting more foreigners into the palace is yet another example that the monarchy is growing soft”. Other militant and nationalist associations have raised similar concerns, noting that the marriage could make future interventions in the region more complicated and that this may negatively impact the expansion of the Fringe in the local area. The crown has made no statement on that matter, but has rebuffed claims that the marriage is purely a political move. UAIN staff contacted the Crown for comment on the arrangement of the marriage and the aggregated reception it has received and Press Secretary Hiralli Mrenavnya gave the following statement:

“The union (between Vaesheer Alataryx and Reja Silveraxe) is more than a simple dynastic move and has been carried out with extreme consideration. We share many things in common with the Eridani people and that this union has proceeded smoothly and affably provides proof that our two nations can and should cooperate more broadly, the mutual trust that the matrimony creates will pave the path for future collaboration and enduring peace between our nations. As for concerns that the marriage is purely political, all parties involved were consulted prior to the agreement and given time to come to their own decisions regarding the matter. Princess Reja and Prince Vaesheer met in person and found each other to be perfectly agreeable, had either posed any concerns the union would not be moving forward. That it is speaks to the good character of the Eridani people and monarchy and we hope that the Vipran populace welcome Reja as openly as the palace has.”

No further statements have been made aside from well-wishes to Rowan Silvershield as well as the Silveraxe family and notifications of the upcoming celebrations and events. For our part at UAIN we welcome the new addition to the imperial family and look forward to their contributions towards the Vipran nation and galaxy at large.

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Garments and Guns
Vipran monopolies move into the Scythian and Eridani markets

Following the Surren War Vipran corporations have been in full swing, prying into the markets of both the Scythian Empire and the Eridani Imperium. Crown monopolies such as Turophan United Technical Services and Tenebavnya Corporeal Services are extending their reach as well, but primary among the many corporate parties are Wikalaman Textiles and Fashion and A3 Industries. Both have invested heavily in the new markets in different ways and are establishing inroads for other corporations to follow.

Wikalaman in particular has been keen to take advantage of the Scythian surplus of spidersilk, importing hundreds of thousands of containers of the material for their first shipment and having arranged for significantly more. This is being used in the creation of new fashion lines, as exemplified by the recently teased Arachnia line, but is also being used in the creation of entirely new textiles in combination with other fibres. Its uses appear to be primarily fashion based rather than more broadly applicable however, as reports from insiders claim its use in the ubiquitous Wikalaman climate control and mechanical counterpressure suits are highly limited.

At the same time A3 Industries has made head-roads into both nation but most notably into the Eridani Imperium, where foundries have been established inside Eridani borders to meet the high demand. The two foundries, both Kritkrak class stations, are being towed into the Færing Sector and Vanguard Reaches of the Eridani Imperium. Each of the forty kilometer long and eight kilometers in diameter stations are slated to begin mass production of small arms, heavy equipment, and stellar craft of updated Eridani designs as part of an extensive contract. This arrangement coincides with the royal marriage and has been determined by analysts to be, at least in part, facilitated by the union due to Crown ownership of A3 Industries.

Other companies are dipping into the new markets as well. Among them Tenebavnya has been noted as seeking to establish outlets as well as other businesses while also applying to hire Eridani and Scythians into employment within the Vipran Imperium itself. Others such as our own United Allurus Information Network are seeking talks to establish broadcasting rights as well. Practically every monopoly is making its own attempts to fill the new market, Wkalaman and A3 Industries being those that have already seen significant success.

[Lady Scylla]

ANCHOR-Scythian Empire

New Expansion Charter signed

£.05/mo Subscription IMPERIAL TIMES

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SCYTHIA -- Empress Suzume has signed a new expansion charter, the first of its kind in almost a century, that will open up new colonisation prospects for Scythian corporations. The signing followed a week of intense debate from the nation's largest conglomerates, notably Yamasato Conglomerate, and the Naga Combine. The two companies spearheaded a claim to five habitable interstellar systems anti-clockwise of the Kurgan Nebula. These systems, accompanied a periphery of other less inhabitable, but resource rich systems bringing the full tally to twenty.

The discussions were held in the Empress' Court, where both corporations had to provide a series of assurances, and details of these regions before it could be approved. Among the criteria, was that the inhabited systems would have ''peripheral systems or anomalies within a 50-100 LY space that were a) rich in resources to sustain colonies, b) non-hazardous transport routes, c) and in number to facilitate fair competitive pursuit by rival corporations.'' The final point was the sticking point, unsurprisingly for the two titan corporations. The charter grants them the chance to get first pick, but must then argue further claim to resource nodes against competitors.

Despite this, the two corporations signed an agreement in the Merchant Assembly acknowledging the criteria a week earlier. However, it is without a doubt, that both will attempt to use all their available power to keep other corporations from staking claims, including combating each other. The other question is how the third titan, Corona Syndicate, will approach this recent development. The corporation lost out on the agreement, being unable to reach its own agreement with Yamasato, who had initially identified the systems before even Naga. This has put pressure on the Merchant Assembly to mediate between the three.

In the Empire, corporate wars are legal under certain restrictions. All three titans field extensive fleets and fire-power, so the prospect of another conflict, especially between such large powers is one that must be carefully monitored. However, by law, Corona has six months to file a grievance in the Merchant Assembly to contest Yamasato and Naga's agreement first, before resorting to military action against its rivals. At which point, both Yamasato and Naga would need to defend their agreement against Corona's scrutiny. If Corona succeeds, it'll mean the Assembly will have to reach a new agreement. So far, though, Corona has made no comment about the agreement, nor is there such a grievance in filing.

Despite these hurdles, this new region will officially be claimed by the Scythian Empire via the charter which will go into effect in the next few days. It'll then be open to corporate interests, including workers and colonists who will likely begin to flock to the region. This comes at a time when the Empire is already experiencing a population boom, and a migration period, with the Empire being more stable than some neighbouring Delta regions. The need for new infrastructure to support this region will likely attract both domestic and foreign enterprises.

For the time being, the region has simply been named the Scythian Unincorporated Territory. This is standard for new regions being added, and as such, the Imperial Astronomical Society in agreement with the throne, is opening the naming of this region, including its systems to amateur astronomers. Traditionally, systems were named after famous scientists such as Sagan, Einstein, or Curie. Next week, the IAS will be accepting suggestions from the public, which will then be reviewed by a committee before being announced. As an additional, the winner of the naming for each system will receive £250,000 made out from the Empress' treasury for assisting the Empire.

The other question is how such a new development may be received by the Eridani, who reside anti-clockwise from the Scythian Empire. While the distance is great between these two states, both have interests in the same regions between them, which is what helped spark the Surren War last month. There's also been growing concern within military circles about Eridani re-armament which is being supplied from Vipran and Huerdaen contracts. While the Empire maintains its own contracts with these states, the aggressive re-armament and recovery of the Eridani has continued to concern many bureaucrats. Following the war, a secret deal was reached between the two states, that in return for returning occupied regions to the Eridani, the state would be forced to surrender all of its military research and allow Scythian corporations to invest heavily into Eridani banks. This move was carefully planned to keep a hold on Eridani interests, however, many are questioning how effective these measures may truly be.

[Lady Scylla]

ANCHOR-Scythian Empire

The Deltan War Begins
Scythians declare war following Eridani surprise attack

Julian 23rd, 2175

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Written by Chief Correspondent, Angel Carrington

In a move that shocked galactic leaders, the Eridani Imperium, and longstanding adversary of the Scythian Empire, launched a devastating surprise attack in Scythia's Hypatia and Kuiper sectors. The pre-emptive strike crippled the Scythian 4th fleet, destroyed two fleet yards, and a civilian orbital. Extensive rescue operations were launched in the region, and in the following days, the Empire officially declared war on the Imperium for what it described as a ''vile, barbaric act.''

The Eridani Imperium had fought with the Scythian Empire previously over a complicated border dispute that saw Scythian occupation at the end of the short, but bloody conflict. The dispute was a larger campaign by the Scythian state to exert control over what it deemed ''destabilising, and dangerous'' expansionism by the Eridani, a new unclassified document states. In exchange for withdrawing forces from the occupied territories, the Eridani were forced to agree to several demands, including handing over their military research, and surrendering control over much of their economy.

These measures, outlined in the document that was released by the War Department this morning, were designed to ''prevent further military mobilisation, and slow Eridani expansionism.'' The deal turned the Imperium into a client state in all but name. However, these measures have been scrutinised in several levels of government over their effectiveness. Both nations began extensive re-armament programs on the backs of foreign funding and military trade that turned tensions between these two nations cold, despite the Surren Treaty.

The attack a few days ago became merely the flash point for these tensions, which has also become a wider proxy conflict between a dozen other states across Delta, Beta, and Alpha. The Deltan War, as it is being called by many, has seen the involvement of the HSE, Tezekis, Dornie, Viprans, and many others in support of two complex power blocs that are developing behind the Eridani and Scythian states. While the actual fighting is only being waged between the Scythian and Eridani, these states have began extensive campaigns of arming, funding, and also attempting to control the scope of the conflict to avoid further state-actors from getting involved, or the conflict from boiling over.

Following the declaration of war, fighting has already been reported across the Delta Quadrant as both Eridani and Scythian fleets engage, attacking the Empires' mining stations, communication hubs, and other stations. Both nations were major proponents on ''open territory'' mining, where mining settlements were built across the quadrant in unclaimed space to keep the flow of materials steady within both empires. While the conflict hasn't seen any further aggression between other states, it has seen a major increase in notable mercenary companies being employed by both nations whose origins reside in these developing power blocs.

The GCC, after long discussions, has agreed along with both parties, to temporarily monitor Eridani and Scythian nodes. A decision that'll be enforced by an Alexzonyan and Huerdaen task force, who will also protect the gates from potential attack. It is a violation of the GCC to use their gates for means other than commerce, and the agreement finally reached among the committee was to turn away military vessels and supplies should they come through the nodes until the conflict ends.

While many now watch the conflict spread across the quadrant as these two enemies come to blows, many within the Scythian Empire especially are still reeling from the Hypatia and Kuiper attacks. The Eridani slipped through Scythian detection, launching a two-pronged, coordinated strike on Yamasato's Guardian fleet yard in Kuiper, and Naga Combine's De Soto fleet yard in Hypatia. Both installations were destroyed by the Eridani attack, and the 4th fleet in Kuiper was crippled.

However, the worst act in this blow was the destruction of Rylark station, a civilian inhabited settlement of roughly five thousand people. Investigations into the attack found that Rylark's fusion reactors had suffered severe damage preventing them from being able to engage failsafes that would have stopped a detonation. Evidence from debris and accounts suggest that the Eridani fleet had fired on exposed sections of the reactor plants in the station, perhaps as a distraction as the Scythian 7th fleet was inbound, in order to cover their withdrawal at the closing phase of their attack.

The War Department has estimated that, in total, 17,328 lives were lost in the attack. 5,731 of them being civilians who were killed when the Rylark's reactors had a meltdown.

[New Dornalia]

ANCHOR-New Dornalia

The Lemongrass Report

On the Ground in Kadria--or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Varangian Fuel, Pt. 1: Enter the Tankers

By Kendra Lemongrass

I honestly didn’t expect to be here on Kadria, to be honest. Warzones are never easy to get into. But to get to Kadria was considered by many newsmen to be extraordinarily difficult. It wasn’t so much the hostile governments--the Eridani authorities were quite patient and helpful, and if the Xinhua News Agency feeds broadcast on NORINCO’s pet news channel Central Galactic TeleNews are any indication, then the Scythians are certainly welcoming as well.

Rather, it was the conditions on the ground. The war on Kadria is hitting a fever pitch, and siege conditions have set in. The Scythians have landed, and the planet has been plunged deep into mayhem with the Eridani and Scythians locked into a deathmatch in space and on planetside. Additionally, the Eridani Nebula itself is arguably one of the hardest natural defenses--the ship I arrived on had to be equipped with a special engine, so I’m told, otherwise it would have taken a long time to get to Kadria. And my editor, who has granted me a lot of largesse, wasn’t someone who could wait that long.

But, somehow, by the grace of Linh-Mina’s record producers, I made it. I made it. I’ve been told I can’t exactly say how I got to Kadria, aside from the broad strokes treatment above and maybe a mention of how I got into Bronzehelm under overwhelming risk of say, being shot down by Scythian ordinance. What I can say is that after letting the Dornalian Embassy and other relevant authorities know I’m here, I was given permission to follow Eridani forces as an embedded reporter.

As it so happened, the unit I was embedded with was a group of tankers. Charlie Company, part of the 7th Fleet’s planetside units.

***

I approached the motor pool, which was housed in a part of Bronzehelm that looked like it used to be a warehouse. I was immediately struck by the fact that you had not only Eridani there, but a large number of Dornalians in the area. And let’s be honest--you can tell when the Dornalians have shown up. Be it from the tanks with unusual nose art on, to the wide variety of languages delivered in a surprisingly casual tone, to someone playing a boombox with music of some sort, to even the fact that someone, somewhere, is cooking something that smells like sausage. The smell was a standard breakfast sausage, and it came from a Dornalian man in what can be best described as a mix of Eridani military clothing with Dornalian touches. You haven’t lived until you’ve seen a man fry up linguica on a hotplate, wearing a viking mail shirt, boots and helmet, wearing a tomahawk on his belt, and a Kalashnikov with the requisite lightsaber bayonet on his shoulder.

The vehicles were themselves eclectically mixed, just as their drivers were. You had Eridani landspeeders, sharing floor space with mecha as well as a somewhat rounded tank of Dornalian origin with a sloped back, although it was painted in Eridani colors with the Eridani military runes. It had two things that stood out about it. One was an image of a muscular woman that crossed the grass skirt and coconut bra of a hula dancer, with an Eridani axe in one hand and a horned viking helmet shaking her free hand in a balled fist, uttering the bizarre words, “Like beef?” on it.

The other was the turret. It was a more clunky looking deal,with what appeared to be four autocannons attached. The turret was being attached to the tank, and maintenance men--both Dornalian and Eridani, were putting the finishing touches on a repair job. The middle of the turret had what looked like a small, stubby tube in the middle, and something on the side, likely a scanner.

I must have been staring at the tank for a long time, because I heard someone cough and ask me--in an accent that seemed to come straight out of the harder, rougher towns of New England on Earth--”She’s a beaut, isn’t she?”

I turned around, and I saw a woman in her early thirties, with long locks of blonde hair and a jaunty grin. The woman was wearing an Eridani pattern uniform jacket that was opened, revealing a green shirt with an unusual sign resembling an H--clearly a sports team of some sort. She had green tactical pants on, and combat boots, also Eridani in origin. She had a mug with the same sigil as on her shirt, and it was filled with a black fluid that smelled of coffee--but not hot coffee.

I could only reply, “Um, yes?” The woman laughed, and said, gesturing to the tank, “Well, I think it’s fucking pretty. I mean, trust me, out there, fighting the damn Scythies, you want those quad mounted forty mike-mike gauss cannons. Nothing, and I mean nothing fucks up one of those fast moving spidertanks faster than those mounts.” The woman stopped, realizing she hadn’t introduced herself (as if she had forgotten that was necessary), and said, “Lieutenant Rochelle Kozlowski. Welcome to the Rough Riders.”

We shook hands, we saluted each other, and I got the feeling this was going to get interesting.

***

As it turned out, this was going to be very interesting.

To begin, the tank marked with the expression “Like Beef?” was Rochelle’s tank. The expression and unusual nose art came from her days doing college tankery. Apparently, she was part of the University of Hawaii’s “One Puka Puka” squad, and if you follow college tankery (I don’t really) then the One Puka Pukas are a big deal. As Rochelle explained to me rather incredulously, “Well, One Puka Puka basically tore a new asshole when it came to Nova Louisiana A&M’s Inklings. Those guys--the betting pools were all in favor of the Inklings. I mean, the Inklings were the championship winners four years in a row. Of course,”--and Rochelle said this with a wink--”One Puka Puka rose up to dethrone them. Bam! “LIke Beef” got them with a shot to the side armor, and the match point went to U of H.” Rochelle then added, sipping from her mug, “Lots of partying that night, lemme tell ya.”

Kozlowski asked if I had anything to drink, interrupting her flow for a moment--she seemed worried I hadn’t been shown the proper niceties. I said some water, before she then stopped me and walked me over to a small table. In the corner was a large cooler of some sort, with a spigot. Next to it was some half-opened green coffee cans. I looked at the cans more closely--they were printed in both English and Kadrian runes. They were all coffee, and coffee and chicory.

There was also some nondairy creamer, a cooler marked “water” and some packets of what looked like sugar and sugar substitute. Kozlowski asked me if I had a mess mug, and I showed her the little camping mug I had kept from my Mythrandiri adventures. Kozlowski invited me to step forward and take some of the fluid for myself. I poured it into the mess tin, and it came out flowing surprisingly easily. I looked at it, and with Kozlowski encouraging me to try it, I took a sip. It was black coffee--but although it went down mellow, I felt as if I had been hit by a defibrillator and then a kick to the nether regions to make sure I was awake. I must have looked shocked, for Kozlowski said simply, “Easy. You’ll wanna cut that with some water.”

I asked her, “What is this? Cold brew coffee? Here?”

Kozlowski nodded and said, “It’s a blend which has been making the rounds. We call it rocket fuel. Kadrians call it Varangians’ Fuel. Some call it Vietnamese rocket fuel. Dunno who started it or whatever, I just know it’s four parts coffee and chicory with two parts Eridani military roast coffee. We mix it all together with water, either pure or with whatever’s leftover of the last batch, and then let it steep for a day before serving, cut with a bit of water.” She then added, proud of the creation, “It keeps us going.”

I nodded, although I was still trying to comprehend how exactly they were getting the Eridani military roast. Dornalian food shipments have been making the rounds, along with other nations’ food shipments. Still, one would expect coffee to be somewhat rare, given that Kadria was under siege.

I sipped the coffee, and looked around, the caffeine taking effect on me. I did as Kozlowski said, cutting it with some water which was reasonably clear, and then throwing in some sugar substitute. Perhaps the coffee was a bit too strong, because I blurted out my question--”Where does the coffee come from?”

Kozlowski laughed, and then shrugged.

“No fucking clue. Supply gets the supplies to us, and we just kinda roll with it.”

It was obvious that the question was not one to which Kozlowski had given much thought. Indeed, given that she had much more urgent requirements to worry about, I wasn’t surprised that was the case. And, looking at how everyone was either imbibing the coffee or was waiting in line to get some for themselves, it was obvious no one was asking too many questions either. They were however, wondering why I was loitering in front of the coffee mess.

***

So, jolted back to the reality of things, I was spirited by Kozlowski to a group of individuals who were similarly attired as Kozlowski was, although with varying degrees of formality. All of them had axes--that Kadrian badge of belonging and martial virtue--although some of them had smaller axes than others.

As Kozlowski explained to me as she introduced me to the crew--who seemed to look at me with a curious eye as Kozlowski explained who I was (namely, an embedded journalist, assigned to their unit for the duration who worked freelance, but was for now attached to NDBC News and the Times)--it was a mixed Kadrian-Dornie crew.

The gunner and loader for the quad cannons were the Stormbreaker Sisters, Inge and Kirsten. Inge pointed and fired the quad gauss cannons, and Kirsten kept them running and fed. They were Kadrians, women with pointed ears, martial bearing and a surprisingly jocular attitude as they looked at me--seemingly mirror images of one another, although one had a bob cut and the other had a ponytail. They nodded, raising their mugs of coffee. The one with the ponytail--that was Kirsten--seemed especially curious as to who I was, and had a sort of nervous energy about her. Inge wasn’t as perturbed.

Then, there was someone who was clearly a Dornalian. The dead giveaway was the fact that over her Eridani uniform, she had an Orderman’s uniform’s outer jacket draped over it like a cape. The other giveaway was the fact she had a Kalashnikov rifle shouldered, with a folded up metal tube attached to the front--the ever present lightsaber bayonet. She was a short woman, with East Asian features. She seemed more lively, and spoke with a voice that suggested she came from the underhabs of Luxemborgia--a sort of innercity, nasal tough guy accent that recalled old Earth cities like New Orleans or New York. Kozlowski introduced the woman as “Nancy Kim, the best damn driver from an arcology city I’ve ever had.” Kim looked at me, raised her mug, and said, “Damn right.”

Next to Kim was a woman with cat ears, an earthy, peanut butterish complexion and features which were both Latin and Asian all at once, and a similar uniform as Kim’s. The uniform didn’t seem to fit as well though, as she was a bit shorter than the rest. The cat eared woman’s accent was definitely an urbanized accent of some sort, but unlike Kim’s voice, it was a Southern Californian accent with hints of gata ancestry--as if the ears didn’t give her away already. As Kozlowski explained to me, that was, “Diaz. Bernardina Diaz. Private First Class, and a reliable, solid co-driver.” There wasn’t much else special about her, and indeed, she seemed to be merely relegated to observing the Kadrians and Kim talk about everything--at least until I showed up.

After a few moments, I said, “Hello. Don’t mind me, I’m here to observe, write stories, and try not to get anyone killed.” I said it in a jocular tone, as if to break the mood. With Inge and Diaz, it seemed to work. The others just shrugged.

For whatever reason, Diaz seemed pleased as punch to see me. Diaz quipped, “Well, don’t get us killed. But any of the Scythies? Fuck ‘em.” She then added, rapidly endorsing my previous journalistic ventures in a rather unsolicited manner, “I mean, I’ve seen your shit on the news, Ms. Lemongrass--particularly about Ravenstskia. If you do to the Scythies what you did to the fuckin’ Spetsnaz--we ain’t gonna have any problems.”

Inge raised an eyebrow, and with understandable skepticism in an accent that reminded me of an old Scandinavian man I had met once doing a story about hunts in upstate Minnesota, “But she’s a newscaster, isn’t she? I thought they were merely supposed to report on events, and not get involved?”

I paused, and laughed a bit. Evidently my reputation had caught up to me. I said to the assembled, “Look, I tell stories just like anyone else does, I just tell them using a camera on my own and occasional participation in the story, and post production edits where I record a pseudophilosophical voiceover and some other stuff.”

“And you just happened to engage in capturing Soviet soldiers and killing motherfuckers with an AK while looking damn good at it.” Diaz then, as if on cue, whipped out her phone and began playing some of my greatest hits before I could stop her. The others looked impressed, Inge commenting, “So, this journalist is a battlemage too, like you and Kim are? Perhaps it is good she came to us after all!”

Instinctively, I waved dismissively, and said, with a smile, “Alright, alright. Look, I’m not here as a battlemage right now. I’m just here to record some news.” Changing the subject slightly, I asked if I could sit down. The others nodded, and I sipped my brew as I took my seat on a crate of ammunition.

The diverse crew in front of me prompted me to ask a few questions. One of the big ones I asked was why they were all in here. I even used the words, “What brought you all to a place like this?”

The Kadrians looked at me with puzzled expressions, as if the question was too obvious to answer. Inge answered for the Stormbreaker sisters, as she said with a shrug, “Because this is our home. The Scythians came and invaded our homeland, tore it apart, killed our kin and laid waste in depredation upon depredation--what else was there to do? So, Kirsten and I joined the fight, and then learned to operate this tank.”

The Dornalians meanwhile, gave interesting answers. Diaz spoke first, with the same enthusiasm that she had mustered in showing others my past stories. She became much more animated, even passionate.

“I joined because I kept seeing the stories about how the Eridani were getting a raw deal. I mean, they get economically fucked by the Scythies. That’s bad enough. But now, the Scythies are murdering women, children, and men and fucking up a whole bunch of perfectly good planets, all because of some other crap the Eridani apparently did.” Sipping her coffee again, Diaz added a refrain I would hear from many volunteers.

“I didn’t need the Order to tell me that you don’t force a man into a corner, and then cry self defense as you beat him to a pulp because he decided to throw a punch and get out. That isn’t what my momma taught me and that’s sure as hell not what the Order taught me. And frankly, I felt like I needed to make a difference. So I joined--the Order called for volunteers and the Eridani were hiring people of all sorts--and here we are.”

Kim meanwhile, raised her mug and went, “Here here!”

I asked Kim if she agreed with Diaz. Kim nodded, and added with a shrug, “Pretty much my rationale as well, although I would’ve been a little less gangsta about it.” She then smiled and said, “It helps that they let me put my skills to good use here.”

“Skills?” I asked, curious.

“Damn straight. Army taught me how to drive AFVs. Then, after I leave, I get stuck in a boring-ass job in the underhabs repairing cars and doing other shit. I mean, I like tinkering with cars, but I missed the Army and the underhabs don’t let you drive much. So, when the Order put out its call for volunteers and condemned the shit out of the invasion of Eridani territory, you bet your bottom dollar I signed my name on the dotted line. Now, I’m driving the shit out of a tank.”

And what of Kozlowski? I asked her, and she said with a smile, “A little of column A and column B,” as she gestured to first Diaz and then to Kim. “Besides, the Eridani were hiring people with all sorts of skills, and it just so happened I had particularly good ones, being a tankery champion. So, I joined.”

“Oh shit, not that again,” Diaz said with a feigned annoyance.

Kozlowski seemed surprisingly tolerant of this insurbordinate act, as she said, seeming to roll off a long list that rubbed it in Diaz’s face as she let out a sneaky grin, “What’s that? The part where I get to proclaim I helped lead the One Puka Puka to victory over Nova Louisiana A and M, or the part where I discuss how I impressed the recruiter with how I helped turn an old Sherman into a winning instrument? The part where I nearly got to be the next Corvid Cream girl? Or--”

A pause, and then a laugh, as Diaz said, “Okay, okay. Sorry, boss.”

“Damn straight.” Kozlowski grinned, and it seemed like this sort of repartee was common--none of the other team members said much about the exchange.

Then, Kozlowski looked at the time, and then, the announcer over the PA system asked for “all tank commanders to report for briefing.” Kozlowski excused herself, and I followed with.

And just like that, war was beginning. But that's for Part 2.

[Toaslandia]

ANCHOR-Galactic Empire of Toaslandia

"SIR, THE REBELS HAVE TAKEN MOUNT FORNIA! THEY HAVE A BIO- OH MY GODS!

This was the last transmission to come from Forunia, the planet that supplies the Empire with most of it's food. The rebels this Legionnaire was talking about are called "The Soldiers of Liberty" and have attacked several plantery and interstellar convoys. Now we believe the "Bio" was one of the bio-farms on Forunia, not a biological weapon. Stay tuned for more news later tonight.

[New Dornalia]

ANCHOR-New Dornalia

The Lemongrass Report

On the Ground in Kadria--or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Varangian Fuel, Pt. 2: Preparing the Shopping List.

By Kendra Lemongrass

Welcome back, dear readers, listeners--ah, it doesn’t matter. We left off with me meeting a bunch of tankers, and swapping conversation with them before being dragged to a briefing involving the tankers. We also left off with a long dissertation on the glories of cold brewed coffee and chicory, which almost made you think this was a food blog. Well, this ain’t a food blog, I can assure you.

The briefing itself was relatively mundane. It was a huddle of tankers and mech jockeys and others huddled in a spot in the corner with two big Kadrian guards to keep away any eavesdroppers and lookyloos. Now, as I’ve been advised by the nice men who read my stories over at Eridani command, I can’t say too much about what I was told. Apparently, the Scythians are reading this as we speak.

So, I will say that dear readers, our unit was being assigned to guard a supply run to a forward position a few klicks away from where we were. The Scythies had a tendency to nip at supply runs, and although the forces I’m embedded with have a tendency to find creative ways to evade the Scythies--the censormen I can’t say too much about how supply runs are made--it never hurts to bring along some big guns to keep the flies away from the food, so to speak.

Now, there’s a particular method to the madness the Eridani have figured out to keep the flies off the food. This I can discuss, because as far as the censor was concerned the Scythians know about this already.

Basically, self-propelled anti-air gun vehicles like Kozlowski’s vehicle--having quad 40mm gauss guns and a proton torpedo launcher meant to hunt aircraft and stubborn small and medium sized targets on the ground will do that to you on the tables of organization--are generally prized for working flank security, because you never know when some dingle with a bazooka decides to be clever and shoot from the flanks. Of course, you have other vehicles as well to protect the goods. Tanks, guntrucks with autocannons, guards with itchy trigger fingers and fast reflexes, even mecha, are all drafted to do a variety of roles, all of which are designed to ensure that the convoy can get from point a to point b without dying.

Of course, this doesn’t deter the Scythians one bit, and it’s fairly obvious that escorting convoys is risky business. This was especially down the road they took--I can’t say which one exactly--the assembled referred to as “the Proving Grounds.” When the location was mentioned, one of the tankers--a Kadrian man named Nils Redbanner, who had been heretofore as stonefaced as a statue and even had a tank known as the Stone Axe--raised his eyebrows with an expression that penetrated the normally stoic exterior with a simple, quietly concerned, “Well.”

As Kozlowski explained to me after the briefing before we got to work, using a hoary old cliche from an old movie I saw once, “We call it the Proving Grounds because if you survive that road, you never have to prove your chutzpah ever again.” She wouldn’t say much about it--partly because she was getting prepared for the journey ahead-- but I got the gist that it was both a particularly vital route and one that the Scythians found to be a good hunting ground.

“Isn’t this supposed to be a safe area?” I asked.

Kozlowski shrugged, and delivered a matter of fact reply. “You’d think so. Problem is, the Scythies love to show up where you least expect it.”

“What if you survive multiple trips?” I asked.

“Well, if you somehow survive multiple trips?” A pause and a shrug followed, with a slight grin and a somewhat introspective tone. “Then you’re either really lucky, really unlucky, or a fuckin’ legend. Or all three.”

Getting back to the briefing, it was Nils’ turn to be that one guy that points out how hairy a situation is. Namely, Nils pointed out--respectfully noting that he was not opposed to the plan--nonetheless noted that on their last milk run, one of the SPAAGs in their unit, the Kadrian Roast/i], had been turned into molten slag because of a few trigger happy Scythians with plasma support weapons, and one of the heavier AFVs named the [i]Black Diamond, had been unceremoniously ripped open by plasma fire, allowing a swarm of mechanical spider drones to devour the men inside. Kozlowski and the others--well, they tried to keep a straight face, but it was obvious the men involved were sorely missed and the manner of their deaths too grotesque to even contemplate. The commanders were adamant about moving out, and Nils of course pointed out he was merely making observations.

Still, the unit commander, a rather tall woman with the rank of...well, the rank is roughly equivalent to that of “Captain”, so let’s go with that. I was later told her name was named Freyja Arrowsmith, merely acknowledged Nils’s concerns with a simple, “I’ll take that under advisement.” I was surprised Redbanner hadn’t gotten worse--in my experience, some commanders don’t exactly appreciate outspokenness. Kozlowski and the others of course, threw in their advice as well, in arguably the same manner. Kozlowski herself recommended--with a bit of a sigh--that they should definitely have more Tactical Level Power Armor scouts (power armor/mecha meant to do the job of tanks for those of you not versed in Dornie militaryese) to keep an eye out for interlopers. The sigh seemed less about the mission, and more amused resignation about even having to speak the name of the mecha this was a unit that had worked together for a while and trusted each other enough to speak. Old rivalries remained, evidently, especially as one of the mech jockeys looked over at Kozlowski with a knowing smirk.

Arrowsmith seemed confident about the milk run, or hid her feelings well. In fact, she seemed bemused about the sigh from Kozlowski, noting simply with amusement, “Well, I’m sure you can work out any arrangements with your friend Lt. Palsgraf.” Either way, she noted that we would have access to air support and backup, and acknowledged everyone with a nod and an attentive look. And, as I was told by Arrowsmith afterwards with a polite but menacing grin, that’s all I could say in this report.

What I can say is that Arrowsmith and Palsgraf, et. al, seemed to work together well enough, focusing on the mission--leaving banter aside. The multinational nature of the effort was definitely manifest. The composition of the leadership was clearly fifty-fifty with Eridani and Dornies in equal measures. I am told there are Viprans and Huerdaens as well, but I didn’t see them until much later on--but that’s another story.

***

As I walked out of the meeting with Kozlowski, I asked her what that exchange was about. Kozlowski waved her hand dismissively and said, “it’s nothing.”

“Oh, it sounded like something, alright.”

Lt. Palsgraf showed his face, and could be seen leaning jauntily on a post, sipping a mug of the ever present Varangian Fuel. He had shocking green hair, a somewhat wiry frame, and an appearance that...well, I don’t mean to sound sexist, but he seemed almost too pretty to be a warfighter. However, he also had a jaunty, devil-may-care attitude and clearly had a history with Kozlowski. Sipping his coffee, Palsgraf stared down Kozlowski, who sighed and excused herself.

I was left with Palsgraf, and he said to me, in Hajarran Common, ”You’re Kendra Lemongrass. The reporter. I’ve seen you work.”

I raised my eyebrow. Hajarran Common was one of those rare languages I didn’t hear much outside Hajarra itself, or some worlds of the Colonial Republic. Oh, Hajarrans, under the Dornalian flag as either Dornie citizens or with Cooperative Union passports, had gone to many of the same places as the Dornalians did. Hell, the Nyan Nyan chain of restaurants had opened up on the Aureus project. But Hajarrans didn’t speak Common outside the homeland, so it took me by surprise.

I replied with a raised eyebrow, :You wouldn’t be the only one.” Looking around, and seeing Kozlowski in the distance perform a briefing of her own crew, I looked at Palsgraf and asked, ”So, just between you and me--do you and Kozlowski have a history? Like, between Arrowsmith and Kozlowski’s comments….”

The man cut me off with a cavalier, ”I wouldn’t worry about it, sweet cheeks.” Sipping his coffee, Palsgraf continued with a smirk and a simple, pat explanation consisting of, ”She and I are from two different worlds, that’s all. She pilots tanks, I pilot mecha. Tactical Level Power Armor, specifically. She and I did talk a bit, but well, in the end, it wasn’t meant to be.”

Palsgraf then decided to change the subject. He pointed to a large, crablike contraption in the distance, resting on two chicken-like legs which seemed to go in reverse. It had a long cannon on its shoulder, and a pair of arms which looked rather well armed. One had a minigun of some sort on one arm, and the other had a rather large, bulbous attachment that had a couple of projections and text on the side. It wasn’t a massive mech, but it was certainly about ten to fifteen feet tall. He gushed over his mecha--it was clearly his pride and joy.

”See this? That’s The Wizard. She’s a one-ton killing machine that is agile, mobile, and hostile. She’s built on New Leningrad by the Hyundai people--an M-series Tactical Level Armor that is God’s gift to armored warfare. We can shoot and scoot with the best of any tank, or any army.” Pausing, he added, folding his arms and looking proudly at the mech in front of him, he said to me, wistful and yet hasty near the end, ”Anyway, Koz didn’t get that, and so we parted ways….as best as we could. We’re in the same unit, and we depend on each other. I act as her eyes, she backs me up--not that I need the help.”

”Does that make things awkward, having that...history?”

Palsgraf shook his head, and smiled, ”Breakups don’t dull reflexes, mack. As long as I can pilot that mother, and she can pilot her tank, and we can kill Scythies and not kill each other, we got this.” He then looked at Kozlowski again in the distance, and said with a sigh, ”Still would be nice if we got back together, though.”

I then nodded, and excused myself. Palsgraf hopefully was a better mech pilot than romantic.

***

So, briefing done, I had the chance to walk outside after drawing my kit--press pass, armor, and my lightsaber and my own Plasma Kalashnikov--and witnessed a sequence which mixed a ballet with a procession of wild animals.

The vehicles lined up in their assigned orders. There was a sort of harmonious, practiced energy about it. The trucks and important items went into the middle, filing in two by two as if part of a greater procession--although not too close to one another as there had to be some proper spacing for protective purposes. The units escorting them, meanwhile, would form up on the sides and rear and front in a calm, orderly fashion. This was mainly because there were diligent Kadrians and Dornalians alike with large glowsticks, gesturing rapidly to various spots, holding their glowsticks in particular fashion, communicating using a combination of comms and obscure hand signals that looked like a modern dance composition and not military logistics. The Tactical Level armor, meanwhile, could be seen milling about, the pilots off to the side, doing safety checks and preparing to move on ahead to scout things out.

Around me, I saw further evidence of Dornalian, Vipran and Huerdaen largesse. Mixed among the convoys were vehicles of all nations--jostling for space alongside Eridani supply haulers, you had what were clearly Nissan trucks loaded to the gills, guarded by soldiers with Huerdaen weapons, and so on. The Tactical Level Power Armor units were almost exclusively Dornalian, but even then there was the chance you’d see one or two with foreign weapons lodged in the hardpoints--not just Huerdaen or Vipran, but even Scythian by the looks of it, from what I can remember from the orientation course i had on the ship. Customization is king after all when you’re a Dornalian.

I also saw the tanks and mechs and all the vehicles had adopted the custom of whimsical names and paints. I won’t bore you with all the details, but it’s sufficient to note that they reflected a certain cynical humor found amongst warfighters of all cultures. Everything from shark faces painted on vehicles, to names like God of Thunder and Pest Controller which were variously entertaining and morale boosting. There was no shortage of nose art either, a lot of it which couldn’t be shown in polite company. Suffice it to say, a lot of themes got repeated--squishing bugs, attractive pinups, so on. I saw Kozlowski and Palsgraf pass by one another, and trade jabs from their respective vehicles, but they were in the distance, so I couldn’t hear them.

Being an embedded journalist and someone who couldn’t ride desant--Arrowsmith made it clear that was unacceptable--I rode in a guntruck fashioned from a Nissan truck named Charlene, with an autocannon and machineguns in and more protection for the crew. It was staffed with Eridani soldiers and Dornalian volunteers. They were busy doing checks on their weapons, although they did acknowledge me with a nod.

I sat down next to one Kadrian soldier who looked particularly green, and asked him, in English, “Kendra Lemongrass, NDBC News. Is this your first assignment?” I had to ask him something.

The soldier looked at me, and said simply, “Not really. I’ve been on one such ride before.” He looked at me, and then asked, “Do you have some headgear? You should really put it on. It is very dangerous out there.”

So, I rummaged around my gear, and pulled out a white M1 Helmet marked “Press” on it, before strapping it on. No one else had an M1 Helmet, so I was very distinct--as if the white didn’t give me away already. The man looked at me, and nodded.

“Good. Now, put something underneath you, in case we hit a mine. The seats are armored, but it never hurts.”

So, I looked about, grabbed a crate, and sat on it out of concern. The scene was comical, and the other soldiers snickered at the journalist trying to heed the advice of a Kadrian soldier who looked barely old enough to get into college. For that matter, I shrugged, and looked about . The convoy seemed ready to go, and eventually, a slap on the side of the truck by the traffic controller signified we were good to go.

So, with that, the convoy began moving down to the Proving Ground.

***

The journey itself started out well enough. We were in a relatively safe area, even if kids and mothers moved quickly to escape and get out of the road. There were also craters--the enemy had the reach to bombard, evidently. Still, Bronzehelm--the area which we were at at least--was relatively untouched, although you had shell craters and the ever present smell of decay and the sounds of gunfire.

However, as we left Bronzehelm proper, things went downhill--both literally and figuratively. In the areas just outside of the safe zones, I could see civilians on the side of the road, scrounging and picking up bits of armor and usable materials while a man kept watch. I could also see more and more destruction. More craters in the roads and more bombed out structures. More wrecked vehicles and corpses in the streets. Ciivilians could be seen moving to the safe zones, although weren’t many long trains of fleeing civilians. I surmised that they either fled to the safe areas already, or worse. No one seemed to want to comment, however.

However, you traveled through the area marked as “The Proving Ground,” it was obvious that we were entering something fierce.

Here, you were confronted with warfare and its consequences. The roads were once good roads, with cobblestone. However, constant bombardment and warring left them rough, gravellike, with craters all around. The drivers moved carefully--the rumor was that there was unexploded ordinance from the last few attempts by the Scythians to hold up a milk run. Even with the fact that many of the vehicles were hover vehicles--Kozlowski’s SPAAG had a v-shaped hull and repulsorlifts, for example--there was a chance that something bad could happen--like ordinance designed to penetrate a tank even after the ordinance was long implanted into the ground.

The soldiers and the escorts all kept their eyes open. I could even see Like Beef? and the other flank escorts moving their turrets about, scanning the horizon for anything out of place. No one spoke except in hushed whispers or the odd bit of comms chatter. The engines themselves were surprisingly silent as well, regardless of vehicle--just a low hum. The tanks we had weren’t the largest, or the most sophisticated, but they worked and didn’t make much noise. So that was an advantage.

The silent mood allowed me to look about, and really contemplate the desolation around me. It was obvious that judging by the wide boulevards and the way the streets were planned and designed, this used to be a big shopping area. Need a dress? Need a fine, dry aged dragon steak? Maybe even a bottle of bubbly for you and yours? You’d go here. There were signs of all sorts--tailors’ shops, tobacconists, even a place that in another life may have been a trendy coffeehouse. There was even--appropriately enough--a place that looked like it had once sold toys. There was even a teddy bear in the window--one of those giant teddy bears you’d get for a kid if you had a lot of love and a lot of cash to go with it, likely from Earth itself.

But alas, the only things you’d find here are wrecked vehicles, rubble, and buildings that looked more like jagged rock formations than department stores. The skies were grey, and it complemented the ruins which were present all around us, making things seem more grim. There was the odd animal scurrying about--rats, dogs, so on, all looking for scraps of other animals or even gory bits that used to be combatants. There were skeletons that used to be soldiers or civilians, pulverized by constant explosions and plasma fire.

One particular group of skeletons could be seen behind a pair of statues of Tirion and Eryniel, which were pockmarked with shrapnel and burn marks, and yet seemingly unresponsive. Kurosawa, with his depiction of a Buddhist scroll falling down off a cliff amongst a scene of chaos in the old pre-Apocalypse film Ran, couldn’t have made a more striking and nihilistic symbol of how hopeless and destructive things had gotten.

One man poked my shoulder, and whispered in Kadrian-accented English, “Look.” I saw to where he was subtly pointing, and to my horror, I saw mechanical spiders skittering about. That last part made the guards especially nervous, and the comms chatter began picking up a bit regarding their presence. .

“Scythie spiders,” one guard whispered to me. “Where they come--trouble follows.” The guard muttered, “Damn sewer rats.”

I nodded in acknowledgment, as the men began preparing their weapons. Axes were drawn, as were shotgunners. Nothing happened, but the spiders seemed to be watching, following the convoy with watchful eyes and ill intent.

The man next to me, whom I had spoken to earlier, wondered out loud--or would have, if he was allowed to finish his sentence. Instead, his head, shoulders and upper torso were reduced to bits of ashen gore in moments, by a sniper from the buildings. Alongside that, a SKEEEECH sound could be heard, loud enough to be audible all across the convoy, and the convoy sped up as the pitter patter of thousands of spiders rose anew. A KRAACK--ZZZZING could be heard, with a loud boom. One of the AFVs had fired off its main gun at whatever was trying to box us in.

War were beginning. But that dear readers, is a story for Part 3.

[New Dornalia]

ANCHOR-New Dornalia

OOC: Note: This occurs before Karax really leapt into gear, and before the Huerdaen intervention, as will the rest of these things. Credits to Google search for the lyrics to Motorhead's "Sharpshooter."

IC:

The Lemongrass Report

On the Ground in Kadria--or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Varangian Fuel, Pt. 3: Stand and Deliver!

By Kendra Lemongrass

Now, if you’ve been following these dispatches from the Siege of Kadria, you know that in my last report, I joined a convoy which was ferrying supplies to an outpost, going through a city which had long since been bashed into rubble by the contrivances of a great power seeking to gain power and glory at the expense of another.

Now, that convoy had come under assault. Hordes of mechanical spiders, snipers, you name it they had it. And the Scythies wanted us dead.

From where I was, the whole situation degenerated into madness. Shadowy figures could be seen moving from window to window, firing bursts and blasts at the convoy below. The klickerklacker of mechanical spiders could be heard skittering about all over the ground, making an infernal racket like a great horde of locusts coming to eat the crops. And, mixed amongst all that was the heavy ordnance. Loud horns. Remorseless fire. That sort of thing.

The Kadrians and Dornies of course retaliated. The Scythian fire was met with intense fire of their own. Even as the convoy began to pick up speed to try and escape the killzone, I saw the men and women and vehicles around me begin firing back. Their lives depended on it after all.

The armored vehicles began opening fire on the ruined buildings, shooting on the move in a kind of controlled chaos as they rushed to escape the killzone. The CRACK-ZING!-BOOM of cannons, the staccato BOOMZINGBOOMZINGBOOMZINGBOOMZING of 40mm gauss cannons and the BLAMBLAMBLAMBLAM of autocannons of Huerdaen and VIpran make roared with a deafening, resounding force. And, the RATTATTATTATTATATATATATATA of heavy machineguns mounted on remote weapons emplacements and pintlemounts alike came about. I could see shimmering forms moving in the distance which cloaked and decloaked at will, firing bursts of autocannon or gauss cannon fire at the walls, leaping from building to building using their jump jets.

I will admit, even I joined in. Weapon in hand, I loaded a fresh magazine and began firing back. Short controlled bursts, like my experience taught me. I fired at windows, and I fired at skittering chittering spiders. Fire. Fire. Mag change. Fire. Rinse repeat as plasma bolts flew from my Kalashnikov to make contact with the spiders and Scythians all around. There were plenty to come, however, for they never seemed to stop coming.

One particularly loud report came from a Dornalian man to my left, who operated some sort of Kadrian made HMG on a mount. He first got my attention by shouting “WHOOOOOOOO!” I turned, and hanging off of the HMG was a music player of some sort. Some sort of jerryrigged hookup attached to the HMG’s trigger was used to trigger the music player, which was playing discordant, loud metal music of some sort amidst the din of battle.

Like a sniper, I've got my sights on you!
Windscreen wiper, there ain't no spoiling my view!
Silver bandolier, my profession's clear!
Sharpshooter, sharpshooter, sharpshooter, hey!

The soldier in question was firing in long bursts at the enemy, shouting “FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOUR COUCH! FUCK YOU TOO!” He had the presence of mind to use the sights, and could be seen adjusting his bursts with a studied edge, to account for the movement of the convoy and the threats in front of him. I could see that he was holding onto the controls of that MG like a desperate man at a cliff’s edge holding for dear life. I could also sense that even as he was frightened and desensitized to the violence around him, he seemed to welcome the challenge of the spiders and the snipers and all else--as did everyone, Kadrian and Dornalian, on that truck.

The flashes of light which rose out of the muzzle of the HMG and the weapons in general came like a series of second suns. It was a clamor I had experienced before. But it was also a clamor which never fails to get your attention with its sheer, unsubtle nature.

But that was not all. I saw a man to my right pull out his shotgun. It was a Kadrian made shotgun and shield combination--a popular combination, I am told--and the the man began firing. This time, he fired at incoming hordes of spiders. Skittering, crawling about, moving--they wanted to get inside and devour the men within. I saw one man in another truck having a spider land on his face, and in his confusion and desperate fight to remove the spider was mobbed by several more that dragged him off the truck into the quivering metal mass below. I winced--anyone would have.

The Shotgun Man next to me dispatched one with a blast of buckshot, and bashed another with the buckler. At the same time, I felt something skittering at my feet. I looked down, and saw with horror one of the spiders had gotten onboard. I quickly moved to bash the metal creature wth a solid buttstroke, before using Force Throw to punt it out of the truck.

Of course, as indicated previously….more were coming. Soon, I found myself like a defender at the parapets, with the others, as Shotgun Man screamed “THERE’S MORE COMING! RIGHT SIDE!”. I had my camera going during this time, and from what I can recall and from what I can see from the footage, I bashed a pair using my rifle’s butt, and then quickly drew my lightsaber and ignited it all at once to slash three more in half. Soon, the rifle fell to the truck bed, as I began swinging using my lightsaber and powers to keep the spiders away.

***

Even as busy as i was, I could still see the effects of the vehicles’ weapons. And the effects were profound. Puffs of smoke and rubble flying everywhere could be seen, as already ruined facades crumbled under the onslaught. The air soon became filled with the acrid smell of weapons fire and ozone, a product of the gauss weapons’ work. The only thing that mattered was fighting to keep the spiders from consuming us all. To keep the enemy from killing all of us in one go.

The frantic action moved faster and faster, until suddenly the truck in front of us lurched to a halt as its front cab was consumed in a massive explosion. With a massive jolt our driver tried to move us around the downed truck, jerking the wheel with a mighty turn and jostling the passengers about. I held my lightsaber carefully, to avoid friendly fire. Still, I found myself holding for dear life. The sounds of automobiles colliding could be heard, as others were not so lucky to avoid crashes, even as they kept going. I saw the wrecked truck, and I saw the soldiers inside fighting and attempting to get onto an IFV that had pulled up to provide support. The autocannons fired at the hordes, as the soldiers inside leapt onto the IFV to ride on top of the vehicle, firing at the spiders all the way. When the man had recovered all the soldiers onboard, the IFV fired at the truck’s remnants to destroy the materiel and kept going.

The convoy continued to move. In their disciplined order, the soldiers and drivers kept moving as best as they could. We moved closer and closer now to our destination. Hopefully, we would be able to get out of this kill zone, populated by relentless Scythians who decided to keep trying to kill as many as they could.

Then, the convoy seemed to grind to a halt...this time in better order. HMG Man shouted, “What the fuck? WHY ARE WE STOPPING?!”

Then, I saw what had stopped the convoy.

In the distance, I could see giant war machines. Spiderlike, insidious, and violent in their shape. A number of them had emerged to cut us off and attempt to bring to bear their biggest weapons upon our convoy. They stood there, truly alien in movement and presence.

I could only mutter, “Well, then.”

On cue, they began to fire at the convoy, and explosions could be heard as the convoy escorts and the machines traded fire. The loud crack of cannons could be heard, firing at the war machines, and the machines’ shields seemed to be fluctuating. Maybe a bit of armor flew off. That’s what my camera seemed to say anyway.

Still, to my horror, I saw trucks and vehicles go up in flames and explosions, hit by the machines’ death rays and blasts. All that rushing. All that movement. Now, it was impeded and things were not going to end well if things didn’t move again. Worst yet, the spiders and raiding teams kept coming, having regrouped for another assault. I found myself swinging and kicking and Force Throwing and everything. The Shotgun Man next to me kept bashing and smashing and shooting.

And yet, it wasn’t enough. They were coming, more and more. Worse yet, the enemy raiders were still shooting.

Linh-Mina’s violent lyrics, one hoped support would come soon.

Then, the big machines exploded.

And soon, I could figure out why.

***

The spectacle began with the sound of WWWWHOOOOOOOSH!

I looked up at the sky, and saw a formation of planes flying at the mechanical monstrosities. They were fighters of some sort, but big fighters--one that looked vaguely familiar to me. Hell, they looked familiar to every Hajarran child. But I had to confirm one more thing before I could say for sure, but that wouldn’t come yet.

The fighters disgorged cannon fire and swarms of missiles at their foes. The missiles, erupting in long bursts that flew towards their target, began twirling and spinning in a massive cloud like a group of intoxicated bees as they began smacking into the machines attacking us. The planes made low passes back and forth as they began their fire support mission. Even as I kept going after the spiders assaulting our truck, I could see the planes fly low enough that I could see the roundel of the Eridani Imperium upon them, along with the usual Eridani Navy colors. Yet they flew in such a fashion as to make me wonder if more Varangians were involved, and not local pilots.

Aside from that, I saw the shimmering forms in the distance which I had seen earlier. They were moving out and about quickly towards the most dangerous of the machines. Soon, after forming up around their target, the forms decloaked en masse and launched their assault while the fighters were busy. They were the power armor jockeys from earlier in the day, and they soon began to fire at the machines, running low along the ground, firing gauss shots and other ordinance as they danced around their opponents, circle strafing them and generally being quite violent and agile.

The Shotgun Man smiled, even as he bashed another spider in with his buckler, witnessing the sight in front of him.

“About time those fucking PA jockeys showed up!”

The violence escalated, as the machines’ attentions were diverted to the supporting attackers. Their death rays fired at the planes and the mecha, eager to try and make them quit.

Their efforts were met by one of the pilots, whose plane transformed into a humanoid shape. That wasn’t the unusual part. Neither was the part where I made the sign of the Valkyrie, for indeed the Valkyries had come to save us all as my initial suspicions were confirmed. No, it was what the humanoid shape did. The shape appeared to be a man leaping from a building, with its right leg extended as if making a dynamic entry into the battlefield with a jumpkick. The figure adjusted its course, even as the machines tried to move and evade. Still, one of them didn’t move fast enough. With a violent blow, the plane slammed its boot into the mech and activated its thrusters.

The effect was a lovely illustration of what happens when one combines Newtonian Physics with sheer near-cartoonish violence.

Namely, the Giant Kicked Machine was knocked back a fair distance as a gout of exhaust and fire enveloped it in a large explosion. As the Giant Kicked Machine flew back, chunks of armor flew off of it. The mecha slid, and then with a breakdancer’s spin, leapt up and struck a pose as it landed, whipping out a rifle of some sort in one hand and an axe in the other as it leapt up to fight some more. WIth the steady hand of an ancient Western gunfighter, the Valkyrie began firing and slicing at its foes, and was soon joined by two more.

The large war machines began their retreat, faced with the sudden resurgence of Eridani fire. Soon, the convoy began to move again, rapidly. This was a welcome relief for all involved, because even as the mecha got their glory, we were down here keeping the gribblies away. The Valkyries continued to press their assault, whilst the PA moved throughout our ranks, leaping from building to building to help clean up the baddies as the escorts and the men continued to fight.

Before long, we approached our destination. A sign attached to a wall greeted us with the words, in spray paint over a billboard which was painted white:

“WELCOME TO FORT APACHE.

POPULATION? LOTS.

FUCKS GIVEN? NONE.

DECENT FOOD WITHIN!

SCYTHIES KEEP OUT”

A series of logos--presumably unit insignia--were painted onto the sign, surrounding the text. Through holes in the wall, Eridani soldiers began firing flamers at the spiders. But even beforehand, the spiders seemed to break off. They had apparently done enough.

As the convoy made its way through the entrance to Fort Apache, I sat down on the floor of the truck. I turned and saw the remnants of the man whose upper parts had been disintegrated into ash before my eyes. I gave them a look, and a nod, and then looked at the sky.

It was good to be alive.

Thus ends Part 3. Stay tuned for Part 4.

[Lady Scylla]

A Nation Mourns

---

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New Cardiff, Mars, UKR - A black flag flies above the central spire of the Red Palace. It is an ominous sign bearing grief and utter heartbreak. This silent gesture needs no sounding off of the headlines, no special ceremony, no radio or television broadcasts, no form of communication of any kind that technology has gracefully bestowed upon us. Instead, what is communicated can be inferred when one looks upon the palace's quiet and serene architecture. Her Majesty, Suzume Yamasato, of House Raza -- has passed away.

It is grave news dealt to an already bereaved, and troubled nation of peoples spanning a vast colonial empire. While the death of a monarch has never been an occasion where one hasn't felt the pungent venom of grief, the passing of Her Majesty, lauded by many as a founder and saviour of the modern empire, is more like losing a loved one. By day break, the black flag was raised, and by noon, thousands had crowded Sovereign Square in sombre colours. They laid flowers at the feet of soldiers guarding the Royal Gate, the main entrance way to the palace grounds, until there were piles of the flora having made a small barricade.

The crowd held hands in silence and did not part until a motorcade of black vehicles, adorning the Radiant bicolour and a black flag, signalled the arrival of the Crown Princess. The flowers were cleared, and as the large iron gates creaked open to allow the motorcade in, a grief-stricken crowd looked on. A world of mystery lied beyond the stone walls, and as the black cars disappeared into the pathways of the royal garden, not a word -- had been uttered.

By mid-afternoon, the crowds had swelled to well over a hundred thousand. Those prestigious gates had once again opened, and out came the motorcade. As the crowds separated to let them pass, the vehicles traversed the route slowly, and as a horse drawn carriage came into view, carrying a casket draped with the Radiant bicolour, the hats of civilian and soldier alike were removed. Behind the carriage followed a section of drummers, stone-faced and quiet. It was then that we heard the sounds of this small, but otherwise powerful section as they played the 'Last March' behind the carriage.

Soldiers saluted, and the crowds bowed their heads until the motorcade had passed. Even as the convoy left the square, people stopped in the streets, the presence causing the city to silently seize like a bated breath as they paid their respects. A sombre ceremony clad with crowds, white horses, and drummers -- arcane in its origins, but having venerated Her Majesty with the highest of honours. HM Suzume will be prepared, and then laid in state for three days at the Royal Basilica near Archangel Square, where millions are expected to visit the late monarch before she is finally set to rest in the Raza Crypt.

May God rest the Empress, and God save the Empress

[The Worst Nation Possible]

ANCHOR-The Worst Nation Possible
Absolutely nobody is shocked that The Worst Nation Possible has officially declared war on everyone in The Nationstates Muiltiverse, in possibly the stupidest declaration of war ever written, The Supreme Leader Danny Bevito had announced that the main reason it was invading everyone was because everyone else was "smell suck" and had "no-cost weopons", while the fact that The Worst Nation Possible has technology allowing it to traverse different universes may sound intimidating, the country refuses to use nukes as they are "no-Cost cheats" and seems to only use spears and extremely weak missiles as its weapons.

[Great Ingen]

JADE COURIER NETWORK

^{SHARE THIS}

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Further native attacks in Texcoco

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Veracruz, the primary settlement on the colony world of Texcoco, is reporting an increased volume of attacks by native forces in and around the city. The attacks have reportedly left several dead and injured and have put a water filtration plant out of commission.

To the north of the city, a water filtration plant was attacked early this morning, leaving four sanitation workers and one guard dead, as well as leaving significant damage to the plant operating mechanisms. Nearby, a patrol through the open ground along the edge of the settlement was ambushed by a volley of arrows, leaving several military personnel injured. These are the latest in a rash of attacks over the last two weeks.

Veracruz is home to 120,000 of the tropical planet's 200,000 settlers, who are outnumbered by the local felidaen population roughly 500 to one, and following the initial fighting of several months ago a de facto ceasefire had emerged. However, tensions remain high as the nearby cities of Teopanzolco and Cuernavaca refuse to receive emissaries. Travel outside the colony limits is still restricted to military personnel due to the increased risk of ambush by local forces, and complicating matters is the presence of a natural form of stasis field, which means that most advanced weaponry and firearms cannot be operated reliably on the planet, outside of artificially maintained safe zones.

The native religion is based on astrology and belief in powerful gods, or teotl, and bears a striking resemblance to the pre-Romanum beliefs of the felidaen population of Laptev. Anthropologists have attempted to investigate the links between the two but most contact with the inhabitants of Texcoco has been hostile to this point. It is believed that the attacks on Veracruz are spurred by religious sentiment, as at least one of the victims at the filtration plant was ritually mutilated.

Yūko Andō

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Comments 2456 | E-mail

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Comments:

By Kuruoshi - Just now

we should deploy more soldiers and show these savages who is in control here!

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62 Likes | 46 Dislikes

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By sokkenfan321 - 1 mins Ago

we must be patient. to civilise this planet, we must first understand it

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110 Likes | 26 Dislikes

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By caneflutemanfanreloaded - 2 mins Ago

we should start ripping hearts out it sounds fuggen sick ayy lmao

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502 Likes | 210 Dislikes

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