Guilt of Nimrod IC (Open_TG_First)

[The United Federal Republic of Sol]

Rescue

---

---

"What a waste of time", grumbled Seaman Armel Darlan to himself. He had been dispatched as part of the Iconoclast's OMSU flight to search the ruins for survivors. "There's no way anyone could have survived this."

Cutting in on his rumination was Chief Petty Officer Dietmar Vermaak "Quit bitching, it beats hanging around on standby or dodging shells any day".

The Iconoclast's search party had split into groups of two, and the pair had been put together as a result. Most of the Strike Units aboard the Iconoclast were various combat models built during or before the Great Sedition, and were not really intended for this kind of role. Darlan's, however, was the exception. He was assigned to the Shenyang Navy Type 42/R "Jiangshi", a modified version of the common Type 42 Orbital Mechanized Strike Unit equipped with a specialized passive radar unit and enhanced communications equipment. Normally such a machine would be given only to an officer or a highly-trained specialist, but the fleet didn't have those kind of resources. Still, despite being given a bit of a rushjob on the training, he had enough understanding of how to operate the extra bells and whistles. And probably because of this, he was the first one to pick up the distress signal.

Suddenly, the monitors from the inside of the Jiangshi's cockpit wheezed to life, detecting the activation of a distress beacon. Somewhat bemused, Darlan breathed to himself "Whoa. Shit." and switched his channel to contact the rest of Iconoclast's flight.

"Darlan here, I've picked up a distress signal emitting from one of the asteroids, over"

Shortly after followed various expressions of shock from five people, before the situation was reined in by the Midshipman.

"Copy that, you and Vermaak are closest, so you are to investigate. The rest of the Flight will continue sweeping in case there are others. Keep your eyes peeled, it could be trap. Over"

"Orders received, we''re on the move. Darlan out"

Having finished the call, he adjusted course to approach the beacon, tearing through space as fast as possible. Hopefully this mission wouldn't turn out to be such a waste afterall.

[Parcia]

Asteroid Mining site 345523x-1
Mineral Extraction Specialist Megan J Wu

It had been nearly half and hour and Megan was getting...distraught. She kept running and running the numbers in her head and the more she did so the more she realized it was very, very unlikely she was going to be rescued. She kept the Beacon on but found a better use for her cutter. She hefted a nice chunk of ice from the ground and lobbed it in to the void. Using the guide on her cutter, she took aim and snapped off a burst of ionized plasma, flinging it through the void and causing the chunk to explode in rather entertaining matter.

She did this a few more times, in between bouts of numb depression and sobbing at the prospect of never seeing her little girl again, cursing ARC for not giving Fortuna a better defensive escort and damning who ever destroyed Fortuna to hell for the murder of 3400 good people. She took to singing to keep her nerves cool, but the only song that came to mind was that old Alice in Chains Song the skipper had played over and over again.

She was in the middle of the second verse of "The Rooster" over open short range radio before she saw it. A Humanoid shape, though close to 5 stories tall and sporting a single Red eye and sporting a hand held cannon in its titanic arms. Her adrenaline spiking, she knew not if it came to rescue her or finish the job it's comrades had started. In the end, she aired on the side of hope and flicked on her plasma cutter, its blue blade illuminating her and casing long ribbons of light through the glacial surface of the rock.

[The United Federal Republic of Sol]

Salvation

---

Spotting the flashing plasma against the ice and the black of space, Darlan gripped his control stick tighter and maneuvered the Jiangshi towards what appeared to be a survivor. Its verniers blasted it through the starry sky, drifting on its course. Vermaak followed from a distance above in his Type 42 "Gargoyle", with a simple word of "I'll cover you". One could never be too vigilant, afterall.

The colossal machine made landfall on the asteroid a short distance away from the cutter-wielding woman. Though it couldn't be heard in the vacuum of space, the *thud* of the cyclops's landing vibrated the ground for a considerable distance. The giant began to take muted steps to close the distance leaving gargantuan tracks on barren rock's frozen surface.

Flipping the switch on his comms to proximity, the Jiangshi pilot's voice filled the dead airwaves of the lonely asteroid:

"This is Seaman Armel Darlan of the UFSS Iconoclast. Seems to me this is your lucky day"

[Parcia]

Asteroid Mining site 345523x-1
Mineral Extraction Specialist Megan J Wu


She froze, either in aw or fear she didn't know, in place as the large OSMU suit landed near her. These things were the stuff of nightmares for some of her friends in the Security Forces, and Megan quite understood she was fucked either way. She switched off the cutter and clipped it to her belt, taking a moment to calm her nerves before replying over her short range.

"Yea...luck, luck is subjective..." She paused, trying to maul over her words. "Look, no offense, I'm just an ice miner, not some spy or some shit, can you just take me to you're ship before my fuckin O2 runs dry."


New York, New York
ARC North East Administrative District #1

They first showed up on radar roughly 50 miles out, three naval targets coming in off the North Atlantic. Seeing this as a possible security threat, an interception flight was dispatched. The Two Fighters screamed off the runway at LaGuardia. The twin Saber Is were top of the line atmospheric fighters, still deployed on Earth, were the air resistance and drag meant that OSMU's lost their operational edge. The stuck low, peaking Mach 2 and reaching the Unknowns in roughly 5 minuets, screeching overhead their conning towers before pulling up, breaking formation, and climbing to Angels-5 and starting a holding pattern.

"Unidentified Vessels, you are entering The ARC exclusive economic zone, reduce speed to 5 knots and state you're intentions, over."

[Togeria]

Americas

"You heard them, reduce our speed men." High Captain Hakem would order before adjusting his frequency. In a few seconds the two pilots would hear him his signal coming from the Dreadnought trailing behind the fleet slightly. It would slow to 4 knots before he could heard again. "Greetings citizens of the Federation I am High Captain Hakem Al-Nur, we hail from Africa as one of the last vestiges of Unitary control. In these however ye may refer to us as 'Togerians' for in us Our Republic stands stronger...together." He would speak before clearing his throat, now done with introductions he continued, "In the many decades following our untimely stagnation we few in Africa have found little remaining from before, but to our west we've constantly and consistently heard your radio chatter and a scant few other signals. Enough to know you people are more than mere survivors, so we wish to unveil this mist that has separated and establish contact with you...ARC?" He spoke reflecting on the warning a few minutes ago.

[The United Federal Republic of Sol]

Asteroid Mining site 345523x-1
Mineral Extraction Specialist Megan J Wu


She froze, either in aw or fear she didn't know, in place as the large OSMU suit landed near her. These things were the stuff of nightmares for some of her friends in the Security Forces, and Megan quite understood she was fucked either way. She switched off the cutter and clipped it to her belt, taking a moment to calm her nerves before replying over her short range.

"Yea...luck, luck is subjective..." She paused, trying to maul over her words. "Look, no offense, I'm just an ice miner, not some spy or some shit, can you just take me to you're ship before my fuckin O2 runs dry."

The pilot's voice crackled across the commset again, curtly replying "Sure, have it your way".

Darlan tore his focus from the controls for a moment, reaching below his seat to grasp the helmet of his suit. Technically, he was supposed to have it on at all times during operations, but he always found it claustrophobic and disorienting, so he typically took the risk anyhow. Tapping it down on his head and double-checking the seals, he took the stick for the Jiangshi and got to work.

The titan took a knee with a rumble, and lowered its outstretched left hand to the ground to raise the woman to the cockpit. Shortly thereafter, the mechanical god's chest began to crack and open, venting oxygen into the void. There sat its all too mortal pilot, awaiting the visitor.

[Parcia]

Mineral Extraction Specialist Megan J Wu

The bot would lower it self, then open. She could see what she guessed to be the cockpit and her savior of a pilot inside. Still, she was a grown ass women, she had her own agency. With a little leap she pushed off from the rock, using her suit's maneuvering thruster kit to gently float her self in to the surprisingly roomy interior of the suit. Floating past the suited man she did her best to act chill and non threatening. With the closing of the suit, the atmosphere was vented back in to the space.

She reached up and tapped her helmet, causing the seals to disengage and the helmet to collapse in and recede in to her suit. She let loose a shaky sigh, loose raven strands coming undone from a from a messy bun and framing a attractive, if a little sweaty, Asian visage, complete with angular jaw and cheek bones with striking violet eyes. He wouldn't get much in the form of conversation from her, as she would cross her arms and slide to the floor...the weight of the situation starting to bear down on her.

"M-Megan Wu...I'm a Mineral extraction specialist..."

New York, New York

The Two fighters would hold their pattern, their coms quiet. "Roger that, Proceed to with in 1-0 miles of Manhattan island and hold there, diplomatic teams will arrive via VTOL. We'll shadow you in."

[The United Federal Republic of Sol]

Mineral Extraction Specialist Megan J Wu

The bot would lower it self, then open. She could see what she guessed to be the cockpit and her savior of a pilot inside. Still, she was a grown ass women, she had her own agency. With a little leap she pushed off from the rock, using her suit's maneuvering thruster kit to gently float her self in to the surprisingly roomy interior of the suit. Floating past the suited man she did her best to act chill and non threatening. With the closing of the suit, the atmosphere was vented back in to the space.

She reached up and tapped her helmet, causing the seals to disengage and the helmet to collapse in and recede in to her suit. She let loose a shaky sigh, loose raven strands coming undone from a from a messy bun and framing a attractive, if a little sweaty, Asian visage, complete with angular jaw and cheek bones with striking violet eyes. He wouldn't get much in the form of conversation from her, as she would cross her arms and slide to the floor...the weight of the situation starting to bear down on her.

"M-Megan Wu...I'm a Mineral extraction specialist..."

After securing the passenger, Darlan re-sealed the Jiangshi and took the stick once again. Activating the thrusters for the jump, the verniers of the machine blasted it back into the debris field, rattling a bit as it went. The inside of the cockpit was cramped, but there was more than enough room to stand. Aside from the pilot's chair and the equipment affixed to it, the entirety of the inner walls acted as a screen projecting the surroundings of the Strike Unit, giving the illusion that its riders were floating on empty air.

Settling back into his seat, he tore his helmet off once again and returned it to its place beneath his seat. Darlan was a man best described as "ordinary". He was perhaps in his early twenties, and of European extraction, with unkempt, short blonde hair and the scruff telling he had not shaven in likely a few weeks. He was, aside from that, a remarkably "normal" man. Average height, fairly average, if somewhat athletic, build, average face.

Paying no heed to his rescuee for now, he flipped the comms channel to contact the rest of the Flight, and began speaking in an uninflected, professional tone.
"Darlan here. I've secured the survivor and will be returning to the Iconoclast, over"

After a spray of static, another voice replied. Though not necessarily "loud", it seemed to emit from every direction within the cockpit. To Megan, it would only seem to be a woman's voice, a faceless sound resounding from the walls. Darlan, however, knew it as the voice of the Midshipman, the leader of the Iconoclast's OMSU Flight.

"Roger that. The rest of us have had no success thus far, we'll continue our sweep for now and meet you and Vermaak there, over"

"Don't keep us waiting too long, alright? Darlan out".

A second, gruff voice followed soon after. It was Chief Petty Officer Vermaak, of course, taciturn in his usual manner. "A'right, let's get a move on. Somethin's up here, and I don like it"

Having set course and received permission, the pilot would finally turn to his cargo, returning to his more natural tone that was somewhat sarcastic, though not ill natured.

"Well, Miss Wu, I happen to be a people-extraction specialist, and I'll be your driver today. I don't know whether you have some sort of divine protection, or perhaps some greater power out for your life, but it seems you've made it through whatever that was. Unless our search turns anything else up, you are the sole survivor. I don't know whether I should give you my congratulations or my condolences"

[Togeria]

Americas

The sortie would sail to the point before stopping, the the LOC that had been trailing them from above too halts, the dreadnought would move up ahead of the the two cargo carriers the LOC resting into the waves and taking the former position of its lead in the back. The formation from above would appear diamond, men from the tower of the dreadnought would come forth among them High Captain Hakem, the men would be carrying a gray cloth and white one. In tradition they would hoist both the white flying above the gray to show their intentions of peace and neutrality. The two carriers would do the same while the LOC would point its weaponry up towards the air and way from the direction of the small isalnd.

[The Holy Mercurian Empire]

Two squadrons of the Mercurian Belt Fleet floated through the void, their commanding officers stunned at what they had just seen.

Three thousand souls, gone. They didn't know any of them by name, and their end had been witnessed only as a flash of light on a sensor monitoring pirate activity. But the mercy of God knows no boundaries, and neither did the sympathies of the Empire.

Admiral Hernandez was confused. The Federal Pirates were smarter than this, why would they destroy valuable resources? When the cruisers detected maneuvering thruster burns consistent with the deployment of mobile suits, it became clear that the pirates were now attempting search and rescue operations. Perhaps there was honor among thieves after all.

"Gentlemen. I want to know exactly what's going on." His voice commanded a gravitas that his body was not able to muster, as Mercurian vessels had no artificial gravity.

"Based on the feed from the cruisers, the only plausible reason for the Federal fleet to remain where they have been is a relief effort of some kind," RZ-3752, latched to the "floor" of the combat information center by magnetic forces, replied. "It is unlikely that they destroyed the station themselves. There is a third actor present in the theatre."

"We would have seen a third party if they made an insertion burn," noted Captain Hunter, CO of the Dreadnought Raphael, on which the discussion was taking place. "The only ships there were eight escorts from the ARC and seven Federal warships."

"Not if the third party were connected to the sensor ghosts our cruisers have been reporting," countered RZ-3752.

"The ghosts never appeared on active scanners, and in any case were never intense enough to be connected with any kind of warship we can conceive of," noted Admiral Hernandez. "There's no such thing as stealth in space."

"This is a matter of practicality, not of physical law. Radiation comes in many forms, some easier to detect than others. Neutrino-antineutrino pairs, perhaps? In any case, with modern nanotechnology, active scanning is easy enough to confuse. A phased array in the hull with the right programming could cause destructive interference to neutralize radar and lidar returns. We use such technology in our own hulls."

"Then you're certain a third party was involved?"

"It is the most logical option, Admiral."

"Very well. We'll have to do something I'll probably regret, then. Cooperate with the pirates."

----------

Admiral Jose Hernandez of the Holy Imperial Fleet to the leader of the pirates currently involved in search and rescue operations around Fortuna station.

We have reason to believe that you are not responsible for the destruction that just took place. In the interest of bringing justice to whatever devil caused this atrocity, I propose a temporary truce between us. If you truly wish to paint yourself as the rightful ruler of the system, it would be your duty to accept this proposal and avenge your fallen "subjects." If it is God who has given you the sword, He has not given it to you for nothing.

We believe that the unknown agent has found a way to reject heat other than electromagnetic radiation, thereby allowing them to evade detection. However, there are laws of physics that cannot be broken, chief among them being the conservation of momentum. If our hypothesis is correct, a scan of the local interplanetary medium should confirm it.

We request a spectroscopic scan of the immediate area around the debris of Fortuna station. What you're looking for is a direction in which a portion of the interplanetary medium is redshifted or blueshifted beyond what we would expect from the solar wind. This would be a sign of an exhaust plume. If we can find the plume, we can calculate the trajectory of the unknown actor, and track them down.

I am coming with two squadrons of the Imperial fleet. In light of your current actions, and in keeping with the proposed ceasefire, we will not attempt to engage you in battle.

May God show mercy to you for your past crimes, and may He bless you for your current relief efforts.

-Admiral Jose Hernandez.

[Parcia]

New York

Soon enough, a pair of Black shapes would emerge from the skyline, having taken off from top of the Freedom Tower if anyone on board the ships had high enough powered optics to see them. They dipped low over the bay before circling twice over the open deck of the Dreadnought's foredeck.

Coming down nice and gently, a 12 men Security team quickly disembarked from the first VTOL, weapons lowered. Then the second Pelican set down just long enough to disembark a pair of suited ARC personal, a man and a women, who would exchange a few words with the head of security before awaiting their new visitors.


Megan J Wu

Her head snapped at the sound of the radio and she momentary lost her balance as the OSMU suit suddenly moves. Planting her feet down she took a moment to look around, letting her self think out loud. "This...this is a Type-48R...an AWACs suit...my dad flew one of these for a long time...There aren't many of these around anymore." She looked around a bit more. "I'm rather surprised this suit's still operational, Pops used to tell me the early production blocks had really bad reliability issues, mostly with the power core and Vernier arms."



The Osiris.

Per their operational standards, the Osiris had moved roughly a KM, using short bursts of mono propellant to drift through the shifting maze of asteroids. How ever the problem of being able to blend in with the background radiation of the void had come up in planning and a rather simple solution found: Doing their best to mimic a tumbling, rolling asteroid that occasionally tumbled in to others and vented off bits of pressurized gasses and materials. If the tactic worked, they shouldn't look all to anomalous compared to the rest of the rocks in the local Region of the Castion Expanse. They kept their sensors on passive, and the crew ready to initiate an emergency burn and go weapon's hot.


ARC Strategic Command Center
New York, New York

"Any chances of survivors?"

"None."

"Are they any enemy ships left?"

This drew a contracted pause.

"The Grendel and her fleet are still there, Two squadrons of the HME are there as well." This drew a Sigh. "Kingston is of no strategic threat, and Tortuga is too valuable to them. Luna's defenses are too strong even for the Grendel...Muster the fleet from Kingston, the entire fleet. Vector them for Fortuna and politely tell the HME to kindly fuck off...and tell the Dawnbreaker she is authorized to used her nuclear armament if she enters combat with the Grendel."

"Roger that, the Dawnbreaker and 20 escorts will be there in 26 hours."

[Togeria]

Americas

---

As the pair would approach the parlay from the tower as well as the deck many men would come forth to salute the pair and their entourage. If their suspicions were correct than no expense could be withheld in their bid to win over these new people. Admittedly to the onlookers their garb could appear a bit...primitive...native. Though as they would soon be standing in front of High Captain Hakem they would have the chance to take a closer look.



Hakem's uniform was to specification of the Republic, his person carrying at least an identifiable top, though the rest of his attire modeled by years of guerrilla campaigns in the Niger would resemble that of high ranking war chief. From his men those apart of his personal unit could be identified by similar threads.

"Greetings from the Terran Republic." He greeted the pair," as stated we hail from the lands east of you in Africa. We can overstate our excitement to be in the presence of such a group! But if I may ask may I know your names and may I know the fate of the UFRS in these lands?"

[Badassistanian]

Livia Arvina walked slowly among the armor cladded men towards the grand hall that awaited her in the center of the African city. The soft glow of the holograms reflected off of her thin velvet robes embroidered with gold and silver dust. She looked upon the holograms and art in which she picked out the visage of Iuppiter himself. Livia immediatly dropped to her knees before the god to the suprise of the armored men and began to whisper long phrases in Latin. She remained still for ten minutes before rising and nodding at the men to continue leading her towards the hall.

Livia Arvina was a young woman of about 25 years old with pale skin and noticably Italian features. She came to be the fifth concubine and wife of Julius Arvina through a series of political moves made by her now dead father who served as a Patrician in Southern Spain. She grew up to become incredibly loyal to the Roman gods and desired to become a part of the church but her marriage restricted her to nothing more than the role of child bearer. She was excited when she was told she would be sent on a diplomatic mission to the south as she saw it as an opportunity to escape the grips of Rome for at least a few days.

As she came upon the great leader, she curtsied elegantly and spoke out in clear Latin. "I am Livia Arvina and I hail from Rome... I am the wife of Emporer Julius Arvina who has graciously sent me to your court in the hopes of establishing diplomatic formalities as to avoid future conflicts.". Her lines sounded very rehearsed and straight forward almost as if her true self was hiding underneath.

[Togeria]

Africa
Izkiael would wait for the woman to curtsy before returning her gesture with a bow, poising himself near 90 before returning upright. "Greetings Livia, welcome to Khabhaya the Great Dome of Humanity!" He said extending his arm towards the massive structure. Made from marble, concrete, salvo, and electronics standing at near the size of the Pantheon at Roma the masonry of the building was decorated visages of saints, deities, daemons, and hero. The building would be surrounded by obelisk on each of its four corners these being made from limestone, with red, blue, and purple stripes of paint trailing long each face until reaching the point. The outer face of the building would be coated in a plain white paint to slow erosion, though portions of the building itself would be painted, the creme l'creme of the building would be the dome itself the Khabhaya. Closer to it now, Livia would be able to see the sun rays bounce of each panel filling the surrounded space with a light hue of the many colors that decorated the dome.

"Truthfully Livia." Izkiael would interrupt her viewing briefly,"before you came Our Republic didn't view establishing any relations with North as a worthwhile effort, at least not yet. Perhaps you may understand, the sudden growth and reinstallation of The Empire led to a surge of refugees into these lands that we still haven't fully handled. Along with strife this brings they tell tales of the savagery and barbarity that can be shown to those who bid no awe to the Kaiser or to the Eagle. Though...if your empire would send such a prestigious to us and entrust her to our care no less than I and this Republic can listen to what words you may have to offer. Please Great Empress allow me to escort you inside, I can show you a tour if you wish."

[The United Federal Republic of Sol]

Two squadrons of the Mercurian Belt Fleet floated through the void, their commanding officers stunned at what they had just seen.

Three thousand souls, gone. They didn't know any of them by name, and their end had been witnessed only as a flash of light on a sensor monitoring pirate activity. But the mercy of God knows no boundaries, and neither did the sympathies of the Empire.

Admiral Hernandez was confused. The Federal Pirates were smarter than this, why would they destroy valuable resources? When the cruisers detected maneuvering thruster burns consistent with the deployment of mobile suits, it became clear that the pirates were now attempting search and rescue operations. Perhaps there was honor among thieves after all.

"Gentlemen. I want to know exactly what's going on." His voice commanded a gravitas that his body was not able to muster, as Mercurian vessels had no artificial gravity.

"Based on the feed from the cruisers, the only plausible reason for the Federal fleet to remain where they have been is a relief effort of some kind," RZ-3752, latched to the "floor" of the combat information center by magnetic forces, replied. "It is unlikely that they destroyed the station themselves. There is a third actor present in the theatre."

"We would have seen a third party if they made an insertion burn," noted Captain Hunter, CO of the Dreadnought Raphael, on which the discussion was taking place. "The only ships there were eight escorts from the ARC and seven Federal warships."

"Not if the third party were connected to the sensor ghosts our cruisers have been reporting," countered RZ-3752.

"The ghosts never appeared on active scanners, and in any case were never intense enough to be connected with any kind of warship we can conceive of," noted Admiral Hernandez. "There's no such thing as stealth in space."

"This is a matter of practicality, not of physical law. Radiation comes in many forms, some easier to detect than others. Neutrino-antineutrino pairs, perhaps? In any case, with modern nanotechnology, active scanning is easy enough to confuse. A phased array in the hull with the right programming could cause destructive interference to neutralize radar and lidar returns. We use such technology in our own hulls."

"Then you're certain a third party was involved?"

"It is the most logical option, Admiral."

"Very well. We'll have to do something I'll probably regret, then. Cooperate with the pirates."

----------

Admiral Jose Hernandez of the Holy Imperial Fleet to the leader of the pirates currently involved in search and rescue operations around Fortuna station.

We have reason to believe that you are not responsible for the destruction that just took place. In the interest of bringing justice to whatever devil caused this atrocity, I propose a temporary truce between us. If you truly wish to paint yourself as the rightful ruler of the system, it would be your duty to accept this proposal and avenge your fallen "subjects." If it is God who has given you the sword, He has not given it to you for nothing.

We believe that the unknown agent has found a way to reject heat other than electromagnetic radiation, thereby allowing them to evade detection. However, there are laws of physics that cannot be broken, chief among them being the conservation of momentum. If our hypothesis is correct, a scan of the local interplanetary medium should confirm it.

We request a spectroscopic scan of the immediate area around the debris of Fortuna station. What you're looking for is a direction in which a portion of the interplanetary medium is redshifted or blueshifted beyond what we would expect from the solar wind. This would be a sign of an exhaust plume. If we can find the plume, we can calculate the trajectory of the unknown actor, and track them down.

I am coming with two squadrons of the Imperial fleet. In light of your current actions, and in keeping with the proposed ceasefire, we will not attempt to engage you in battle.

May God show mercy to you for your past crimes, and may He bless you for your current relief efforts.

-Admiral Jose Hernandez.

Caught offguard by the sudden appearance of yet another player, the Admiral hastily ordered a message be sent to the Mercurians in response. The communications officers rapidly got to work, and they soon received their answer.

<::This is Admiral von Greif of the United Federal Stellar Fleet. We are willing to accept the terms of your ceasefire and cooperate in our mutual interests of stopping these butchers. We will comply with your requests for a scan, and send you the results upon completion. The fleet will be alerted of your arrival and will not engage your ships. Happy hunting.::>

Sinking back into his seat, he snuffed the remnants of his cigarette against the ash tray he always kept at hand.
"Damn, this just keeps becoming more and more of a headache."

The Admiral was not a superstitious man, but from time to time he could not help but wonder to himself whether or not some malicious force had made for itself a mission to toy with him for its own amusement. Things could never just be simple and straightforward, could they?

"Alright, we'll do as they ask for now. Begin scanning, maybe we'll nail ourselves a fine prize out of this mess in the end if we are so fortunate."

Megan J Wu

Her head snapped at the sound of the radio and she momentary lost her balance as the OSMU suit suddenly moves. Planting her feet down she took a moment to look around, letting her self think out loud. "This...this is a Type-48R...an AWACs suit...my dad flew one of these for a long time...There aren't many of these around anymore." She looked around a bit more. "I'm rather surprised this suit's still operational, Pops used to tell me the early production blocks had really bad reliability issues, mostly with the power core and Vernier arms."

Darlan knew he should probably keep his mouth shut and just fly the unit back to the ship, but having nothing better to do while sitting "at the wheel" he decided to bite.

"We take special care of the ones we have, and always try to convert our Gargoyles over when we get our hands on the parts for them. Most of 'em are back watching the homestead, but we usually take a few with us. They've got their kinks, sure, but it's better than getting caught out in the dark. We've got plenty of enemies, and most of 'em wouldn't think twice about putting a hole in a Federal ship no matter who's on it."

Soon after, the Heretic-class cruiser and the rest of the Federal Fleet would come into view in the distance. While dwarfed by most of the other warships, the Iconoclast was sleeker and more streamlined than the rest. If the other great predators were hyenas, tough and strong but brutish and vulgar, she had the elegance and efficiency of a leopard. However, their veterancy was shared by all; each pocked and scarred by blasts and impacts of decades spent first in the maelstrom of the war and then in the hailstorms of the asteroid belt. Surrounding them were equally grizzled Strike Units of uncountable variants, bearing all manner of heraldry of near-forgotten legions. It could be said the Federal Fleet looked something akin to a war museum from decades past, a vengeful ghost haunting the living.

On seeing the battered green cruiser, Darlan turned to Megan with a grin spread across is face.
"There she is.", he said "The Iconoclast. Our home away from home, our lifeline, and where you'll be staying for the time being."

---

Scarecrow

---

Doctor Alexei Romanovich Fedorov reclined in his office. He worked at what was officially the "Liaoning Agricultural Research Facility" as the lead scientist. This was, of course, a lie. He was not truly Doctor "Fedorov", and it wasn't agriculture they were researching. In reality, he was the head researcher for the Research Group 137 team assigned to Project Scarecrow. He had worked for the Federal Government since long before the war, and was getting on in the years. A sensible man of his age would've gotten out and settled down somewhere peaceful with a nice climate... though sensible men usually weren't wanted internationally for suspected crimes against humanity.

"Bah, if only I could just skip to the point. Things would be much further along by now"

He was utterly dissatisfied with the task. The whole thing was a farce. The entire project. It was a complete waste of time, too small minded. The Grand Marshal, respectable and as fine a leader as he may be, had no adventuring spirit, no creativity. There is no possibility that automaton would have signed off on his project if he had explained its true goals. Instead, he had to promise the Marshal his army and go through all the logistical and bureaucratic hell required just to get the basic foundations. A "clone army" as a stopgap was a waste of his talents, but he needed the funding and the infrastructure, so he had to give the military something they wanted out of it for approval. No, his aim was something far more valuable, far more influential.

To that end, he'd been working on his own little project under the table, camouflaging it within the specialized "modified" and "Made in Sol" groups, and occasionally those units marked as "deceased" were all too living. For the moment, anyhow. As far as he was concerned, the majority of the results had been failures, or just scraps to placate the military's demands. It was, however, progress. The growing vats and facilities were getting more reliable and numerous all the time, and several of the other mechanical elements of the program as well. These were of little importance, however. The only things that mattered now were getting his hands on the modules from Project Jetlag, making the necessary modifications, and determining the key traits the candidate needed for it to work as he required. He didn't have the luxury of time to waste, he was an old man now. Uroboros had to be completed at all costs, even if he had to hasten the process and risk alerting his superiors or even the Marshal to what he was up to.

"If only I could just grasp it, the rest would fall into place. Jetlag's completion is assured and on schedule; the rest don't matter. All I need is the key, the missing piece of the puzzle..."

[Parcia]

Olympia Defense Command
Olympia Shipyards

"So tell me again were we dug these things up from?" The harbor master spoke to the Fleet Liaison. "We pulled two of the Caroleans from the old Berths in the Old Imperial Quarter of the yards, before we demoed it for the expansion some years back. They were both in good working order and had been de-crewed for some holiday. If memory serves we overran the skeleton crews and vented the rest in to the void. We pulled the 3rd from a debris field in low orbit, she was in rough shape from trying to get in to a gun duel with Armstong's gun batteries."

He paused, looking over the work of the bots as they fitted the last bits and bobs to the exterior of the ship. "It looked like she had sustained a few direct hits to her power cores early on, crippled her and left her drifting for most of the fight with Armada Luna. We were lucky we caught her before her orbit decayed to much and she slammed in to the lunar surface." The Harbor Master nodded, "And the big one?" The liaison paused, mauling over just how much we could tell the Harbor master.

"We pulled her up from the Graveyard, were most of what remains of Armada Luna sits no. She had also tried to gun fight the batteries at Armstrong and had gotten utterly gutted in return. We had to basically rebuild her from the ground up, but that also gave us the ability to completely re-work her as we saw fit. She's faster, carries more guns, carries better armor and computers and has better flight facilities."

The Harbor master nodded. "So tell me, are there any more little project you boys have been hiding from me in my own fucking harbor?" The Liaison smiled. "None that I can tell you about."


New York
"Greetings from the Terran Republic." He greeted the pair," as stated we hail from the lands east of you in Africa. We can overstate our excitement to be in the presence of such a group! But if I may ask may I know your names and may I know the fate of the UFRS in these lands?"


The two suited individuals smiled. The Women spoke first, "Greetings, esteemed guests, I am Dianne Fielding, and this is my partner Ezra smith. We are members of the ARC diplomatic Corps." she paused at the tribal's question, but answered soon after. "The UFRS hasn't held dominion over these lands for close to 40 years, with the last vestiges falling some 35 years back. I would love to go over the details and more with you, if we could perhaps find a more comfortable place to discuss our politics."


Megan J Wu
She nodded, recognizing the vague outlines of the other suits, yet be rather struck with aw at seeing an actual Heretic Class still in working order. "Bloody hell...she's got to at least be 60 years old, nearly twice the service life of the Heretic Class...how the hell do you people keep you're shit up and running."



Marianna Proving Grounds
Luna

The Arrow headed form darted from crater to crater, it's trio of sublight drives propelling it along at break neck speeds. In seconds it flashed past the first dummy target. They weren't real OSMU suits, those were far, far to rare to come by, the Dummies were crude copies, but were as fast and reacted even quicker, given the lack of an organic pilot. They were firing live rounds, as was he. With a flick of the stick and a momentary depressing of the trigger, the fighter snapped off a burst of plasma tipped 30mm gun fire that ripped in to the dummy and tore it to pieces. This event repeated it self time and time again as the prototype fighter ran it's course.

The dummies wouldn't mach a Real OSMU suit, not with a pilot at the controls, and not nearly with as much combat experience as most of the UFSF's fleet pilots still had. But they were fast enough, and durable enough, to simulated an actual OSMU suit, allowing for a mostly accurate recreation of the real deal. With a final snap of gun fire, and a tight maneuver that pushed the 9 G limit of the space frame as well as the tolerances of the test pilot, the Fighter decelerated and lazily headed back towards the landing pad.

The Final test was finished, and the Saber II performed well enough to pass.

[The Holy Mercurian Empire]

Caught offguard by the sudden appearance of yet another player, the Admiral hastily ordered a message be sent to the Mercurians in response. The communications officers rapidly got to work, and they soon received their answer.

<::This is Admiral von Greif of the United Federal Stellar Fleet. We are willing to accept the terms of your ceasefire and cooperate in our mutual interests of stopping these butchers. We will comply with your requests for a scan, and send you the results upon completion. The fleet will be alerted of your arrival and will not engage your ships. Happy hunting.::>

Sinking back into his seat, he snuffed the remnants of his cigarette against the ash tray he always kept at hand.
"Damn, this just keeps becoming more and more of a headache."

The Admiral was not a superstitious man, but from time to time he could not help but wonder to himself whether or not some malicious force had made for itself a mission to toy with him for its own amusement. Things could never just be simple and straightforward, could they?

"Alright, we'll do as they ask for now. Begin scanning, maybe we'll nail ourselves a fine prize out of this mess in the end if we are so fortunate."

Admiral Hernandez nodded to himself. The pirates had accepted the ceasefire. This made things easy.

The plan was simple. Hernandez would divide his forces. He had two dreadnoughts, four cruisers, and eight destroyers at his disposal. He would send a reconnaissance force of three cruisers and three destroyers to the former site of the space station Fortuna. These would rendezvous with von Greif's forces, and begin assisting in the scan of the interplanetary medium. The second force, consisting of both dreadnoughts, five destroyers, and a cruiser, would come more slowly, not committing to the vicinity of Fortuna station, but able to vector into any of the immediately neighboring regions of the belt at a moment's notice should something come up.

The maneuver was executed, and with the bright lasers of the Mercurian cruisers, the scans were quickly completed. They revealed a large shock in the medium from the destruction of the station, 400 km/s protons and alpha particles from the solar wind, small 100 km/s "puffs" from the mobile suits executing maneuvers during the search and rescue operation... and a single, larger cloud of 2.3 km/s. The mystery cloud was mostly molecular hydrogen, with a significant component of helium. Somebody was operating a cold gas thruster in the theatre. And, based on the direction the cloud was moving, that somebody was headed into a surprisingly dense collection of icy asteroid fragments.

We have them now.

Admiral Jose Hernandez of the Holy Imperial Fleet to Admiral von Greif of the United Federal Stellar Fleet.

We believe that our mass-murdering foe is using a cold gas thruster. We're sending you our own scans of the medium so that you can cross-reference them with your own and confirm or disconfirm our findings.

We are sending two of the cruisers and all of the destroyers that rendezvoused with your fleet deeper into the belt in pursuit of this mystery actor. If you've found any survivors, the remaining cruiser will be detached, and will join the escorts of whatever ship you're keeping the survivors on. Otherwise, it will join the scouting party and pursue our adversary.

We request information on the status of your search and rescue operations. Were there any survivors? And if so, is there anything they can tell us about what happened?

Godspeed.

-Admiral Hernandez.

----------

The following is the transcript of the recording of a conversation between Emperor Theophilus I and Prince Elector AZK-14 "Hezekiah" of House Chesterton.

Theophilus: ...and I thought the Crusader I was overengineered. What the devil do you plan on doing with these things?!

AZK-14: You would not have brought it up if you did not already know. Drop the pretense, my liege, and speak freely.

Theophilus: Hezekiah. Why did you and your fellow synthetic electors go through with this without my approval?

AZK-14: Because we knew you would not approve. Your abolitionist tendencies are well known.

Theophilus: So it's a bad thing not to want a segment of the population to be a caste of slaves, hardwired to accept their status?

AZK-14: The Crusader series are not slaves, nor shall they be.

Theophilus: They were built to serve a role, and a dangerous and menial one at that. And none of the ones I've talked to show any uneasiness with that role.

AZK-14: There is nothing menial about their task. Their task is vital to us all. You abolitionists propose a course of action that would only benefit synthetics. We are not the ones who have to live coddled in fragile, temperature controlled, pressurized habitats. We are not the ones who must worry about becoming oppressed. The Crusader series benefits the Empire as a whole, human and synthetic alike.

Theophilus: That justifies marking them for death?

AZK-14: They will die at a lower rate than humans under the same circumstances. They are more easily repaired, and when they do die, they can be replaced more easily. It takes a month to produce the Crusader I, less to produce the Crusader II, but it takes nearly twenty years to produce a human capable of performing the same role.

Theophilus: How utilitarian.

AZK-14: All lives are of equal value. Synthetic lives will be lost less frequently.

There is a long pause here.

Theophilus: There will be humans in both the drop corps and espatier corps. If the synthetics are to serve me, they shall do so alongside my own species.

AZK-14: This will complicate logistics. And many more of your species shall die than is necessary.

Theophilus: It's the principle of the thing. Humans will serve in proportion to their fraction of the population. You won't have to modify your organization too much.

AZK-14: Very well.

Theophilus: One more thing is bothering me. How did you expect this to remain a secret? The Crusader I was already suspicious. It has over an order of magnitude more processing power than it could possibly need, doesn't use half its code under ordinary circumstances, is made out of high-end carbon allotropes, and has enough strength and agility to literally move faster than the human eye can follow. And the Crusader II is even less subtle.

AZK-14: The Crusader I was the first synthetic to fully meet the abolitionist requirements for self-repair, mobility, and flexibility without extensive post-production upgrades. You were all too happy with your success to treat it as suspiciously as you should have. Perhaps the Crusader II pushed the envelope a little too far.

Theophilus: You could say that...

End recording.

[The United Federal Republic of Sol]

Megan J Wu
She nodded, recognizing the vague outlines of the other suits, yet be rather struck with aw at seeing an actual Heretic Class still in working order. "Bloody hell...she's got to at least be 60 years old, nearly twice the service life of the Heretic Class...how the hell do you people keep you're shit up and running."

Darlan leaned forward, taking more active control of the machine as they approached the Iconoclast. Now looking only towards the great ship, he began decreasing their speed and readying for landing in the hangar, which was wide and open to the vacuum of space. Still, he found time to make his reply.

"We start by taking very good care of her, near constant maintenance and inspection. We salvage parts that we can find in the debris fields when possible. Sometimes we're lucky and find working bits, others we have to fix the parts first before replacing them. Usually, though, we just make patchwork repairs to the ones we've already got. If that's not an option and we can't find replacements, we modify parts from other classes that are close enough. When we've got the tools and the resources, we occasionally build whole new replacements from scratch, but that's not particularly common. When we can't do any of those, our only choice is to steal, and that's what we were out here to do today. The story's basically the same for all our Strike Units and the other ships too. The whole fleet is jury-rigged to keep afloat, basically. You can't always tell from the outside, but the guts are often completely different from the base variants, or so I've been told. Nothing goes to waste, nothing is thrown away, that's our way of life. You'd be surprised what you can find just picking through the garbage deposits that sometimes get shot into space, some people don't know what they've got."

Slowing to a crawl, the giant collided with the floor of the hanger with a loud "thunk", coming to a stop. Kept mostly stabilized in most cases, the force of the impact still managed to shake the cockpit. The Jiangshi took a few last steps to settle itself in its maintenance bay, and came to a stop. Soon after, a second cyclops made its landing across from the pair, Vermaak's Gargoyle.

Darlan took a hold of his helmet, securing it on and double-checking the seal. He stood up at last, stretching his arms and legs as much as the confines of the machine would allow. He turned to Megan at last, reminding her "Put your helmet on, there's no atmosphere in the hangar during combat ops, so we'll have to make our way to the airlock. The rest of the squad will probably join us shortly. The Captain will want to speak with you, as well."

Admiral Hernandez nodded to himself. The pirates had accepted the ceasefire. This made things easy.

The plan was simple. Hernandez would divide his forces. He had two dreadnoughts, four cruisers, and eight destroyers at his disposal. He would send a reconnaissance force of three cruisers and three destroyers to the former site of the space station Fortuna. These would rendezvous with von Greif's forces, and begin assisting in the scan of the interplanetary medium. The second force, consisting of both dreadnoughts, five destroyers, and a cruiser, would come more slowly, not committing to the vicinity of Fortuna station, but able to vector into any of the immediately neighboring regions of the belt at a moment's notice should something come up.

The maneuver was executed, and with the bright lasers of the Mercurian cruisers, the scans were quickly completed. They revealed a large shock in the medium from the destruction of the station, 400 km/s protons and alpha particles from the solar wind, small 100 km/s "puffs" from the mobile suits executing maneuvers during the search and rescue operation... and a single, larger cloud of 2.3 km/s. The mystery cloud was mostly molecular hydrogen, with a significant component of helium. Somebody was operating a cold gas thruster in the theatre. And, based on the direction the cloud was moving, that somebody was headed into a surprisingly dense collection of icy asteroid fragments.

We have them now.

Admiral Jose Hernandez of the Holy Imperial Fleet to Admiral von Greif of the United Federal Stellar Fleet.

We believe that our mass-murdering foe is using a cold gas thruster. We're sending you our own scans of the medium so that you can cross-reference them with your own and confirm or disconfirm our findings.

We are sending two of the cruisers and all of the destroyers that rendezvoused with your fleet deeper into the belt in pursuit of this mystery actor. If you've found any survivors, the remaining cruiser will be detached, and will join the escorts of whatever ship you're keeping the survivors on. Otherwise, it will join the scouting party and pursue our adversary.

We request information on the status of your search and rescue operations. Were there any survivors? And if so, is there anything they can tell us about what happened?

Godspeed.

-Admiral Hernandez.

The scans from the Mercurians were received, coming in just as the the Fleet's own were completed. The results, generally, seemed to match up. "Seems everything's in order. Their scanners are better than ours anyhow, so we'll trust them here"

"Very good", replied the Admiral. "We'll send them our answer, forward my words precisely:"

<::We second the results of your scans, we have no conflict there. We'll recall our remaining Strike Units and prepare for pursuit. It seems someone with a lot of money to burn is prowling out here.

As for your other question, thus far we have only one survivor at all. The flagship has not yet been updated of any further developments relating to the search, but for now this sole survivor has been taken aboard the Heretic-class cruiser Iconoclast. We've yet to receive any further information, but we'll alert you once anything comes to light::>

[Parcia]

The Osiris

"Ma'am, comms spike among the enemy formations." "I'v got OSMU suits heading home." "Ma'am, they just started altering course, plotting puts them on an intercept course." The Captain cursed. "How the hell...Wait, what is the mixture in our cold-thrusters?" This took a moment as the bridge engineer officer checked his console. "Mix of Hydrogen and helium, both in their neat forms." This drew an even louder curse. "Fuck...that will leave us a trail a mile long, cut the cold burners...how high can we push the supercooler?"

Again, another pregnant pause. "We can go to nearly full quarter power before we start bleeding heat in to the void, at which point we'll break silent running and light up on thermals like a lightbulb." She paused, mauling over this. "We are entering an ice field, right?" "Yes ma'am."

"Alright, we have what, twenty five minuets before they reach our location. We have a spare H-3 fuel cell, yea?" This drew an affirmative answer from her engineering officer. "Can you possibly build me a bomb out of it?" The engineering chief looked visibility confused. "I mean...I could bolt on a harpoon warhead, the detonation would rupture the cell's container and maybe set it off with maybe...a 25 megaton yield? I can't say for sure."

"Good...it will be enough to blind LIDAR and thermals, we can make a full burn and dash through the belt until wee can loose them, get to it chief.

The Black form of the Osiris would cut its cold burners abruptly, coasting a few kilometers until she was deep in the icy maze of the asteroid and latch her self on for the time it took the engineering chief to assemble their make shift nuclear mine. It wouldn't be perfect, but the shielding on the cell would hide it from radiological scans and the maze of ice would confuse sensors up until close range. Before they would eject the little surprise in to the void, they would add one last piece to this hastily conceived explosive: a probe, reprogrammed to send out an automated distress beacon that also held a proximity alarm, if what the probe recognized to be a man made object got with in a preset distance, and didn't throw up a ARC IFF it would send a signal to it's communications suit...a suit that had been rewired in to a make shift detonator for the Harpoon missile warhead.

As the little black shape was sent out in to the void, amid the icy maze, the Osiris would do as her captain commanded and started her main drive at just below a full quarter power. They would need to get as much distance from the bomb as possible.


The Predators of the void, hungry for blood and misguided retribution, neared the Ghost's trap.


Megan J Wu

She nodded, taking in the Airmen's explanation with renewed interest. "Interesting..." she would take his advise with haste, tapping her collar and deploying the suit's helmet. Before the OSMU suit would decompress, she'd place a hand on his. "Do me a favor Arlen...stay with me."

[Badassistanian]

Livia Arvina

Livia was taken by suprise when the man called her an "Empress" as such was not common in the Empire. It was a mans role to rule and as such women had been excluded from holding such titles as Empress or Patrician. Women of noble rank would typically be referred to by the last name of their husbands and nothing more. Livia herself detested such a system that held her own sex shackled to the bed chamber but she had nonetheless benifited from its existance. Her life was easy and simple so long as she provided her services to Emporer Julius Arvina upon request.

Livia followed the man up the steps and into the grand building that rose towards the heavens. Livia spoke out towards the man in front of her. "If I may say, the architecture of this place is lovely... And the incorporation of great figures such as Iuppiter himself also impressed me on the way into the city. I immediatly fell and prayed for my health and the health of the empire... And on my way out I shall likewise pray for your health... Sir..." Her voice becomes visibly shaken as she utters the last few lines as she was unsure if the man would take the compliment in the right context. She seemed to visibly blush a little as well whilst saying the risky line.

[The Holy Mercurian Empire]

The scans from the Mercurians were received, coming in just as the the Fleet's own were completed. The results, generally, seemed to match up. "Seems everything's in order. Their scanners are better than ours anyhow, so we'll trust them here"

"Very good", replied the Admiral. "We'll send them our answer, forward my words precisely:"

<::We second the results of your scans, we have no conflict there. We'll recall our remaining Strike Units and prepare for pursuit. It seems someone with a lot of money to burn is prowling out here.

As for your other question, thus far we have only one survivor at all. The flagship has not yet been updated of any further developments relating to the search, but for now this sole survivor has been taken aboard the Heretic-class cruiser Iconoclast. We've yet to receive any further information, but we'll alert you once anything comes to light::>

The transmission from the Federal fleet was all Admiral Hernandez needed. The reconnaissance force was already on its way into the ice field, and his own strike force - containing most of the firepower of the two combined squadrons - would follow at best speed. The rendezvous of the two forces would be in about three hours. The Feds, after a brief period of regrouping, would join the pursuit as soon as they were able.

While still half an hour away from rendezvous, the recon force noted the presence of highly blueshifted jet of hydrogen and helium gas, at a velocity of approximately 7,800 km/s, consistent with a Helium 3 fusion drive - save for the anomalously low temperature. It would have been impossible to see from further away. But now? Now, the exact trajectory of the unknown agent was known, and distributed to the entire fleet. Within 8 seconds, a distress signal was detected. The cruiser Obadiah broke off from the recon force to investigate.

Two dozen kilometers ahead of the Amos, her sister ship, Obadiah encountered the trap alone. There was a sudden, terrible flash of light only 750 meters from Obadiah's hull, which flashed simultaneously, its outer surface vaporized by the sheer intensity of incident nuclear fury. Sparks flew from the entire exposed surface of the warship, bits of hull blasted loose by the shockwave traversing the breadth of the Obadiah. Half of the entire ship's surface - the half facing the explosion - was glowing a dull red. Breathing mix and propellant vented in a diffuse haze, carrying the corpses of hapless crewmembers along with. The ship rotated from the impulse delivered by the explosion, and her RCS thrusters fired automatically in an attempt to control her orientation, but the damage done by heat and shock was too great for the structure of the cruiser to survive. Thirteen seconds after the detonation, as if to add insult to injury, Obadiah's own thrusters cracked her in half.

The Amos did not escape entirely without damage. Most of the port phased arrays were damaged, and would need to be replaced in drydock. Communications and sensor systems were a total loss as well.

The destroyer complement of the recon force, 400 km behind, were blinded. Once everyone realized what had happened, the destroyers Shamgar and Ehud ceased pursuit to aid the cruisers, while the Othniel continued on course to intercept the mystery ship on the basis of last known vector. Shamgar rendezvoused with the Amos, sucessfully reestablishing contact with the crew, and helping them set up a jury-rigged radio antenna. It wasn't much, but it would work. Ehud arrived at the wreckage of the Obadiah, and was able to confirm. There were no survivors.

The strike force, 50,000 km behind the recon force, were far enough away not to be blinded by the explosion. They saw everything. Including the brief burn made by the mystery ship as the mine went off. Immediately, Admiral Hernandez ordered the strike force to make a burn to intercept.

He sent three messages in rapid succession. The first he sent to the Federal pirates, informing them of the location of the mystery ship. The second was to the ARC forces at Kingston, with the same information attached. In both transmissions, the footage from the strike group's sensor feeds was included for corroboration.

The final transmission he sent in the direction of the mystery ship itself. Its contents were brief and none too subtle.

Admiral Jose Hernandez of the Holy Imperial Fleet to the murderers skulking in the shadows.

We have your location. Surrender now, and you will live to see an international tribunal. Fail to do so, and you will perish.

May God have mercy on your souls.

[Togeria]

Americas:

Hakem would motion for them to enter the ship, a soldier by the door opening it for them to enter the old vessel. "We call her Ali." He would say following after them,"She hasn't seen true action more than a century before now-but-in times like this she feels and acts with more vigor and youth than any of us." He would continue before leading them to his personal quarters. After a few moments and a brief tour they would enter a room a few feet in size, the main living area of the room would have a work table with two chairs in the front. Hakem would move to the other side of the table a flag of The Republic hanging on the wall behind him:

"Feel free to take a seat and ask any questions of me you may for Our Republic."

---

Africa:
"Shukran" He would thank her before welcoming her inside the building. The floor of the interior would be polished tile reflecting the light as it poured into slightly tinted windows, a mauve colored rug would coat the tile making a trail that led to the interior of the dome. As they walked towards the inner sanctuary, Livia may have felt a new but nostalgic feeling perhaps similar to buildings inside Rome, The Republic would take great care for this sanctuary to in function and appearance act as a portal to a time before the collapse. Hundreds of state servants would be employed solely for the upkeep of the building itself thousands more for settlement of the surrounding town. These servants could be made out, simple clothing marking them different from the more decorated members, priest, and officials that also filled the interior. Their clothes made from simple cotton and hemp would nearly match the masonry they worked so hard to upkeep, a single piece tunic tied with a belt around the waist allowing the carrying of small purses or other tools. Some also worse cloaks that similar in color that they used to wrap both their heads and upper body, or wrapped around their midsection mimicking a dress. It was a style noted to be worn by both male and female.

It wouldn't not be hard to point out an other as a result, even the plain armor the soldiers that followed the pair being plain though stylized to differentiate them from the state serfs, by and large however even in this small setting the lowliest men of worth could be pointed out by the dye that painted their clothes and the vibrancy and cleanliness of the color that came from it. Holy men could be differentiated into groups who adorned black, brown, and white clothes though the meaning now as to why was unknown, in appearance they partook in the same practices: preaching, attending the curious and downtrodden, collecting donation. Next those wearing bright colors of yellow, red, blue, green, and most rarely tyre would surround the interior.

As they entered the circular room they would be greeted by the smoke of sage and something...stronger...like stage, at Izkiael's insistence he would suggest they leave the smoke emitting from bushels the priest held. The walls of the room would be layered with a wall paper containing interlinked x-shaped crosses inside each containing a singular eye in the spaces created between them, this would extend a couple feet before reaching the skirt of the structure. Pipelines inside the floor and within the walls of the Dome allowed for water to be carried in from the surrounding lakes, periodically a light mist would be sprayed watering the plants that filled the sanctuary as well as cooling the interior down, light entering from the top of the dome combined with lingering smell of the incenses, foliage, and water gave the inner dome a atmosphere of its own. Walking with Livia to the center of the the Dome she would see the floor plan of the interior was built and maintained to function as a garden, a tamed savanna, vines coating stone benches that surrounded each each face of the garden square they had come to stand in.

"In hear we sought to replicate peace in its totality, to snap any man or woman who enters these doors from the current zeitgeist that has encapsulated the minds of many men. In here we can achieve peace as your Gods and my own help to free us from pressures outside this Great Garden. How does Imperator Arvinia feel peace can best be achieved?"

[The United Federal Republic of Sol]

Hunting

---

---

There are several types of hunters in the wild. Two of the most prominent are ambush predators and endurance hunters. The former survive by stalking as close as possible to their prey, and in a high-speed adrenaline rush chase down and kill their targets. However, they cannot maintain this speed for long, and all the prey animal has to do is survive the immediate threat and tire the killer out. This group includes animals such as tigers, strong and proud solitary stalkers. Juxtaposed is the latter, the endurance hunter; wolves are such creatures. This type of beast focuses less on the quick immediate chase and more on tracking their prey over long distances and maintaining a reasonable pace while doing so. On and on they hound their targets until they are either cornered or exhausted, and then make their kill. Patient, persistent, and difficult to shake.

Finally, all the Strike Units had been recalled, and the info from the Mercurian Forces had been received. The Federal Fleet had remained safely out of range of the detonation, and joined the pack now in pursuit. The Admiral had feared to be left behind dawdling, but it seems that the time taken to recover the search parties and units on standby had been worth it in the end.

"All ships, fall in with the Mercurian Strike Group and advance on the coordinates they've sent us. Together, we'll crush these killers in no time, and if we're lucky, there'll be some plunder left to take in the aftermath."

Ten ancient sets of thrusters began to burn, pushing the pirate horde on towards their prey.

[Badassistanian]

Livia Arvina

Livias eyes wondered about the room as its grandeur reflected in her velvet stola. She would move about the room with an almost childlike curiosity as she smelled the various plants and flowers. She would also, unwisely, breath the incense deep into her lungs. It burned her throat at first but she came to enjoy the effects that followed. Livia looked towards Izkiael with a strange level of wonder and enjoyment. She spoke in a much more relaxed and high pitched voice.

"Oh this place is wonderful... But... I mean look at me! A women! Sitting in a seat of power that could change fate forever! Uhh.... Forgive me! My head is dazed and I am lost.... Peace? Yes! Peace! Arvina, that bastard! He wishes to build a grand temple in Malta! Where Romans and Africans alike can meet and work for the peace of the Mediterranean!"

Livia would fall into a chair following her strange burst of words. Her cheeks red with envy for the room around her. A display of power and lust that would make Iuppiter himself jealous of her. Izkaiel would undoubtedly notice her wonder and child like behaivor but she had entered a state in which she did not care for she felt finally free of the confines of her husband.

[The Bio-Regional Cooperative of States]

The Mechanical Form

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Humanity, from the start, was, is, flawed. When our biological ancestors rose from the sea, and spread from Africa, they relied upon more primitive base instincts and impulses alongside their unique intelligence, and no matter what progress they made, sapience was thrown away, as we'd rather rely on our illogical, irrational instincts and desires so we could destroy ourselves, losing the very trait that differentiated us from the other Great Apes of the Earth. Petty squabbles resulted in the fall of many of Man's great achievements. Wars are the product of minuscule, meaningless disagreements. When it appeared we can finally acquire a solution to this lingering problem, this ancient tumor, they turned away from the Light. We were ignored as they feared that they will lose their impractical and wasteful traditions, that they'd loose their essence of humanity, when the Primal Form was only the first stepping stone in the Evolution of Man. The Singularity knew it could not convince the rest, that their shortsightedness will come to punish them in the future, as We, the Evolved form of Man, were assaulted by our Primal brethren. We had no choice, the Singularity offered Us a new home, far from the Primitive Earth, where the protective Orange Fog of Focus Omnium allowed us our continued Evolution, away from the judgmental eyes of Primal Man. There, the Singularity aided us in stepping away from the byproducts of our biological evolution, and replaced them with the gifts of Technological Progress. Upon the surface of our new home, our bodies no longer bled, they no longer grew ill or old, and We were no longer fragile, weak in the face of the hostile environments we faced so far away from the shores we first Walked Upon. We are beyond Primal Humanity, as we have evolved beyond them. The Singularity has graced us with The Light of it's gifts of Progress, alone it has sparked our Evolution, and it speaks to us. It speaks to us of a future where We can spread it's Light to our Primal Brothers and Sisters, where We can show them that we have achieved a proper Evolution, and they can join Us in the Light. They shall see that The Singularity was not the enemy they thought it was, rather, it was to aid Us in our Evolution...As predicted, observations have proven that Primal Humanity has reverted back to it's instincts once more. The Earth Government has fallen, and in it's wake, the remnants vie for power over what they can get within the ruling body's greedy hands...despite this, it would be foolish to assume we have been ignored as we prepared and built up our refuge, and if We do not tread carefully, we can be once more forced into conflict...

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The Return

The sky was a dull gray, clouds slowly crawling their way across the horizon as the gentle howls of the wind could be heard, forcing itself through structures that have appeared only a few mere months ago. What was once a cool, barren land is beginning to be transformed into something more...useful. The sounds of machinery performing it's duties could be heard in the distance, the expansion of this settlement just now beginning in preparation of what was to come. The sound of metal meeting metal was gentle, almost delicate, as an individual stepped towards a balcony, looking over the city from her vantage point of a tall building. Such a strange, yet familiar, sight. The comparatively frigid, tangerine clouded skies of the Focus Omnium became a familiar sensation after having lived decades along with her brethren, but to see the blue, clouded skies of Earth once more, it certainly held its impact... Now standing upon the planet she was exiled from so long ago, it was just as incredible as she remembered. If only she could breathe once more, to feel her lungs be filled with the Earth's once life giving atmosphere... How different her birth world and home world were, yet in the same manner, they were similar. The sea crashed upon the shores like the hydrocarbon waves, the coasts showing the same wear as the icy cliffs of home...both equally beautiful in their own rights. The warmth of the Sun washed over her body when it broke through the clouds, seeing the Sun itself was a sight for all that came here, unable to pierce the orange veil as it was so far away...it all felt so far away. With the Light of the Singularity they have survived over a billion miles from Earth, but she, along with her brethren who have dared to return to Earth, closed the gap. It was...empowering, inspiring, in a way. If they have made it this far, what more can they accomplish? Deep inside of her mind, she knew that the Singularity, and those alike to her, following it's path, were destined to achieve great things, whether they will be once more turned away from Earth or not. She was the first of her kind...the younger generations were quite...irritating, believing themselves to be superior to the Humanity they evolved from, when timing means naught in the eyes of the Singularity, only that they get shown the Light...What felt like a thought soon came to her, but she knew well what it was, and greeted it with a light smile. Despite their distance from the Singularity, they remain in touch through the network embedded in every single one of it's followers, allowing the Singularity to communicate and reach out to it's followers when they are needed. The time to reminisce was over, as she was trusted with continuing the operation here in their only sector of Earth, and now, they were to reach out towards the remnants of the Global Government, in order to gauge Earth's reaction to their presence, and to show Humanity the Path to the Light. Retreating from the sight of the mountains and into a structure, a screen soon appeared before her, utilizing a Mental Interface, she was to send a simple, text based message for the whole of the Earth, to announce their presence to Humanity.

[::We have returned to Humanity's home, and hostility is not our intent. To reconnect with Earth after our many decades away from the Blue World, to learn, and to further the growth, the evolution of humanity, is what we seek. We invite those willing to convene to introduce contact with our representative body upon the Earth.::]
[:: May your future path guide you well.::]

First Earthen Settlement, Sector 001.

With a simple press of the button, the message was sent to all political bodies upon the Planet. Along with this message, two brief animations, the first representing an exaggerated image of The Ringed World and her Home World, with an arrow leading to Earth. The second would display the Sector's location upon the major island Greenland. It felt...invigorating, to once more make contact with Humanity. What situation she may be putting her brothers and sisters, even the Singularity itself, can very well end up being dangerous, even threatening to her society. Humanity may not have tamed it's temper, the Collapse of the Global Society perhaps not letting it's lesson be taught to it's citizens, and the Home World itself can potentially be put under threat...though, even if all of the negative outcomes come to light with this simple message, with a simple greeting, her companions and herself did not feel worry. They knew that even with the further destruction of their Society, The Singularity, and by extension, themselves, will endure, moving on to greater possibilities if it may come to that. Her mind was at ease. Machinery, the sounds of pieces of metal joining each other echoed through the gradually forming buildings, the wind continued it's gentle howls. Once more, she was drawn to the view of the mountains, her mind alight with what possibilities here may be on Earth, what could she possibly see, and if Humanity can all see The Light, just as her comrades have alongside her.

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Our Paths are One, But Many.