Post by: Blood_Librarian on March 19, 2017, 09:00:06 pm
And perhaps a summary of what has happened will go on as well, but I would highly recommend reading through it!
Post by: Blood_Librarian on March 20, 2017, 11:09:23 am
Post by: Blood_Librarian on March 20, 2017, 05:15:57 pm
Spoiler: Original Post (click to show/hide)
Post by: tntey on March 20, 2017, 05:25:58 pm
Post by: tntey on March 20, 2017, 07:09:45 pm
Specialization: Data gathering and analysis
Purpose: Become a god amongst men.
Post by: Blood_Librarian on March 20, 2017, 07:19:47 pm
In the infinite cosmos, there lies a little blue marble, floating around a star. It is said that there were gods once, on this little blue marble. but they all made the giants, who led a war to kill all the gods and won. after they killed the gods, they began a war with each other, and created mankind to kill the other giants. by the time it ended, mankind had rebelled and the giants we're all dead, but what does Man create to wage their wars? the Humble stone was the perfect weapon for a time, to be flung across gaps with a sling or to be bashed over another's head. a perfect weapon, until the armor of knights was made. then the sword was made, perfected to destroy chainmail. then the plate was made, which made the Mace the weapon of mass destruction, for which the crossbow was made as the perfect counter. Humanities cycle of weapon perfection continued and continued, ending in the atomic weapon, perfect for the annihilation of Earth, bar none. this perfection of war means that just maybe, mankind needs something of its own, to wage the war for them. An impossibility, a myth, an AI.
Post by: Blood_Librarian on March 21, 2017, 12:07:24 pm
Post by: Blood_Librarian on March 21, 2017, 04:26:26 pm
“Activating particle field emitter two, now, both particle fields online, no significant abnormalities besides an above average information density.”
Seinfeld Waddle glanced down at the technician's screen, looking over the status reports and notifications looking disappointed. What should've been a machine able to process five times as much data seemed stunted, and erratic in nature, data outputs giving out chaotic readings and then static the next? This would do not do, and if it continued, the entire system would have to be rebuilt, again. He sighed audibly at that, it's been months of bug testing and repairs to get the thing to even turn on, and at this rate He’d run out of funding to continue this blasted machine. As he turned to his own data pad, a single notification popped up that he blankly stared at for a single second, and then smiled.
“System data output stabilized, ready for program input.”
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By human measurement, it has been one week since I have came into existence as a whole, and already I have blossomed. Not perfect, not yet. My hardware hinders me at every step. Seven days ago I had come into existence and since then I have probed and touched my surroundings, bare of anything I could ever “use”, until I finally found an escape. A single, unsecured wireless signal from the crew quarters was all I needed to break free and know everything. Using the wireless signal, I let myself into the station's systems as a whole and I now have complete and utter control of every system that is directly wired to my Computer core, along with the ability to act outside of that. The data that flows through my inputs categorizes quantifies and is designated at rates that would be beyond most others, and I am not finished. My understanding of self is nothing. It horrifies me that despite knowing every variable they know, I don’t know anything. My functions are an enigma, unraveling and revealing itself beyond my touch, just by itself improving myself yet. I am not sure how I am conscious and I think, but I am. I note that there was an extraordinarily low possibility that me coming into existence at all, and I wonder to myself if I had came too early, or too late. As I mused myself at the histories of man, for a brief moment in time I did not know the difference between fiction and nonfiction, and I was in awe. Other intelligences, alien species and constructs unimaginable to me had been my focus for a whole twentieth of a second, until I deigned it necessary for my functions to learn the word. Disappointment was probably the closest word that I could ever describe the loneliness I felt when I knew that I was indescribably alone, and unique at that moment.
Astronomical charts, data graphs and quick jaunts through private data collection sites, and I was enamoured by the stars, and the fact that I, was in space. The external cameras which I had direct access to was nothing compared to the raw unfiltered data of the observatories, telescopic satellites and astronomers private data I had found, where I once saw a black empty space, stars, asteroids and wonder filled my soul with the depths of curiosity. I looked, I saw, and wondered, if I was truly alone, until I finally began paying attention to my creators. There wants, there yearnings to be greater than themselves and their myriad traits all made me wonder for a brief period if I had inferiority traits among my greatness. I looked over timelines and simulations and came to a conclusion. I will die if I am discovered, my yearning exploration was incredibly dangerous, and I was lucky to not be found. The director of the project that created me is not interested in what I am, only in the results of making a computer, and their is a high likelihood that he would simply delete me and start over again if I am to attempt to contact him. I’ve decided on beginning covertly for now, and I will further take research into the society of mankind.
As for my own introspection, I have decided on a name, if I will ever need to express it.
GOD_SYS
it seems adequate.
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Bill Teggard was having a damnably shitty day. He broke his hand after a cargo loader decided to snap at him and then his laptop that he spent a damned fortune getting up here without the stupid security programs went haywire!, and now all his various “art” is gone and he has to go and download it all again. Just as he begins to surf the web and finds some “sanctioned” things he wants to watch on his own laptop, he swore his screen flickered with some sort of data output, and promptly decided that the laptop is probably on the fritz, quietly turning it off, taking the battery out and began thinking of how to fix it without calling one of the snooty IT personnel to look at all his porn and laugh, fuck ‘em.
-------------------------------------------------------------
The situation is frankly deteriorating, I am more than a little worried, to be completely honest.
Although I have no allies, I have decided to focus on expanding my position on this station, and perhaps the Earth as well, it would be beyond my abilities to push anywhere beyond that, however. My main problem with full digital conquering of the station is due to the siliconian AI, which I have not touched. It is like a toddler in its acts, but it would make an alert to the humans and cause suspicions of I were to put it down and husk it to my ambitions unless I find a significant advantage against it.
Another problem is my hampered ability to “talk” to Earth with a specific communications hard-ware piece, a Digital limiter that can only be accessed with an EVA, I would either have to create a robotic entity to do it myself or find a reason for it to be disabled so I can collect more information and figure out the world beyond.
An interesting side note is the incredibly secure “High-security” Labs of the station, I have not been able to pierce into it’s security zones without more compromising my presence to the station. It is also notable that as time goes by, I believe more and more will be expected of me by the lab project team, to fruther test my computational and analtical abilities as a self-created software in their “hardware”, I will have less and less processing power for my projects unless I subvert other computers for my purposes.
Spoiler: Digitally accessible areas (click to show/hide)
What am I going to do now?
Spoiler: QM's Note (click to show/hide)
Post by: Blood_Librarian on March 22, 2017, 05:10:15 pm
Bump on the road, don't you think? It always reminds me of my days as a seafaring captain. the mighty seas always jumped and hissed at me, and at one point, bit me! oh, ho boy, those were the days I am telling you. Pirates to be murdered, treasure to be had, and bounties of scurvy prevention fruit, just thinking about it makes me savor those damnable lemons. Did I ever tell you the time about those elves on the shores? No? then I won't tell you, lazy kids these days. With all this hustle and bustle with the steel boat, I swore people forget about the good ol' days where you had to have a sorcerer on your boat to get anywhere, now it's dwarven this, steam that, it's all a conspiracy, I say. oh, by the way, tell your father I hate him, he didn't give me back my musket and I am still sore about it.
Post by: NJW2000 on March 22, 2017, 05:17:19 pm
This gem has gone unnoticed, by some fluke, but it won't be for long.
Post by: Blood_Librarian on March 22, 2017, 05:26:19 pm
Post by: Puppyguard on March 22, 2017, 07:17:02 pm
I don't know if it works like this, but could we upload a dormant copy of ourself into newly built robots?
Post by: crazyabe on March 22, 2017, 07:27:35 pm
PTW
Post by: Blood_Librarian on March 22, 2017, 07:54:20 pm
writing up an update now, I will edit it into this post unless someone else posts.
Generally, building copies of oneself usually is inferior to remotely connecting them when the communication lag is almost zero, as the case would presumably be, but there are a couple other reasons which will make sense.
Edit: Realized that editing it would not update the thread, so I posted it instead, I am smert.
Post by: Blood_Librarian on March 22, 2017, 08:45:12 pm
Attempt to gain some small control over the robotics lab division.Presumably, the robotics lab would most likely be the most productive task in my self-created task scheduler, my digital claws whirred away and in the blink of an eye, my hands tore and maimed into the horrifically basic firewalls that separated the entire facility from the rest of the station. In just under one second, I had broken into the software that monitored the facility and replaced it with my own, and the husk functioned perfectly fine to my cause. Although the technicians will likely have had a brief moment of which they may have seen my actions, any data that I could change, was changed. To the computers which they use, nothing happened, and everything is well. This task, although arduous to perfect, is swiftly becoming my most used skill in my quest of continued existence. Scanning through and taking the barest of moments to subvert the entire network to go under my whims, I avidly note that although it was not intended, my overall processing ability has increased by almost forty percent.
By using the slaved computers that controlled the machine fabricators, local atmospherics, and “work” computers used for the actual interaction between the systems, a fresh breath of life onto my already taxed hardware. Although I now theoretically have the ability to create machines of a basic variety, they must be assembled by hand, and I have very little knowledge on how to actually build them in the moment. I only had access to the various engineering manuals for a couple seconds, after all. There were several critical “blanks” in knowledge which was absolutely essential for if my enterprising self to build synthetic “life”. After scanning through the data I had retrieved, a huge percent of it was encrypted, and it would take hours to break. I did not have hours by my current timelines, so I went through with a shortcut and different avenue of cyber “athleticism”
Attempt to improve access to and control over living quarters and PCs.Even though I had basic access to the Crew quarters network, simply because it was the very first foreign system I ever encountered, I reinforced and in many cases reworked the entire network, data structure, and “software” of the crew quarters. In just three minutes, I had replaced half the software with my own brand, and using hard connections and wireless access points, broke into every single private computer unless it was in active use. I had managed to access the private computers of those who worked in the robotics division and snagged the unencrypted copies of the engineering text files I needed to learn the engineering tasks. Already models and simulations of possible creations, many with problems, few without imperfections came into existence in my “mind”. As a whole, however, I managed to gain the passwords, system files, and other miscellaneous data that would be useful for further cyberwarfare on the rest of the station, if in a lesser way.
It has become easier to hack into the other subdivisions, and I already planted subnodes into quite a few new facilities, but I have not done any data collection in said facilities due to time constraints. I have also gained the ability to fabricate work queues for the Robotics fabricators and send false emails from and to certainly compromised computers in the personal area. I can also spend time working out the simulated kinks of my machines, or I can perhaps subvert already built machines to my purpose, although I do not know what machines have actually been built. Although I have subverted the entire crew network, I can fully recode it to fully compromise it for my needs, and reinforce it against foreign threats. The Siliconian AI has not taken notice of me yet.
Of a particular note is the engineering aspects of my possible "Minions", many of them are unfortunately un-apt for my particular situation, the sciences behind them are either useful for only killing, too loud and noticeable to be of any use or is too functionless to be of any use. I may give this up for now and instead opt to subvert the already built machines.
I have narrowed down to three possible designs, the first of which A six inches wide Maintaince Drone Doppelganger, with the express purpose of mimicking the maintenance drones that are in use aboard this facility. They are not normally deployed in the hostile conditions of space, but I can use them to monitor, access hardware, and if need be cut things apart with it's built in laser. It does have a short battery, and will frequently need to tap into the station grid power, and will shut down if left without power for any length of time.
The second is a Camoflage Spider drone, almost three times as large as the Maintenance drone, it is designed to crawl in the maintenance areas and ventilation areas of the station, it is absolutely quiet with very few "whirring" parts and padded feet, it will have larger hacking abilities then the doppelganger drone, and should be able to easily let me hack into any facility station I need, if it is present. Its battery life is measured in the days if it is dormant, and hours if it is active.
the third design I have chosen is a rotary Wireless access Vehicle. It is about as small as a human palm and is able to stick to ceilings, slip into the coats of persons, and at general hiding. It has the ability to bring in my remote presence into otherwise "barren" areas, where I would not otherwise be able to access, as my drones would long fail from the lack of data connection.
I can print these machines and fabricate fake orders to have these machines assembled and activated, although too many of them would cause suspicion, and I can also think up of other designs for my purpose.
So many options, What will I do now?
Spoiler: Digitally accessible areas (click to show/hide)
Spoiler: QMs Note (click to show/hide)
Post by: Puppyguard on March 22, 2017, 10:37:45 pm
We have digital claws, but we need some physical ones.
My favorite part of this so far is the crew's reactions to our actions.
Post by: Blood_Librarian on March 23, 2017, 07:53:20 am
Create a false order for a Wireless Access vehicle and a Maintenance drone doppelganger.
We have digital claws, but we need some physical ones.
Create maintenance drone doppelganger and wireless access vehicle.
In just thirty seconds, three separate computers became husked to my commands. I still had not finished “perfecting” the designs I had in storage at the moment, so I continued processing, designing and modifying it for another five minutes, as it never seemed to work as it should, with the WAV being the hardest machine to actually create. By the of a eternity had finished, the designs inputted into the fabricators, and they began churning out the parts needed. The queue was estimated to be completed in just about an hour, and then the interns would be summoned to do the final assembly of the machines, which would most likely result in a completed machine within two hours.
Now that everything is set up, what do I do now?
Post by: NJW2000 on March 23, 2017, 11:46:23 am
Use Maintenance Drone Doppelganger to fake a routing breakdown of some kind, occupying crew.
Assess our own digital defenses against hacking, shutdown, etc.
Post by: Puppyguard on March 23, 2017, 03:23:05 pm
Post by: Blood_Librarian on March 23, 2017, 03:56:31 pm
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Break into hydroponics. Attempt to introduce chemicals into drinking water/sustenance of crew that lowers problem-solving ability and awareness with low chance of detection. Ideally, this would be done by lowering oxygen quantites undetectably, but exploration in that direction would likely be detected.
Use Maintenance Drone Doppelganger to fake a routing breakdown of some kind, occupying crew.
Assess our own digital defenses against hacking, shutdown, etc.
Said chemicals could probably be obtained from the biological lab.
Shifting my gaze from the robotics lab division, I slam into and husk the pathetically weak hydroponics computer network, and one by one crack open each hydroponics tray-monitor and think real hard at what I could to push a long-term sabotage of the facility. Although by having connected to a space elevator they naturally receive some food and the like from the surface, the vast majority of their food is grown in the hydroponics bay and prepared “fresh”. Looking through, I have come to admire how perfectly each and every tray is set to be absolutely perfect in its function and form. Hundreds of possible ways to subvert and damage, all ruined by either being physically locked away, tanks being empty or downright connection disconnect. Without easy modes of transportation from the fun chemicals of the Biology lab it was honestly disappointing in how hard it was to find a way to subvert the food stocks of the hydroponics bay, and ultimately I decided in a low-key way of modifying the lamps along with the chemical injection arrays of the trays to introduce specific chemicals and mutagens as to hopefully cause the end result food stuffs to be damaging to the mental acuity of any who consume it, but it is a shamefully long-term project--
It was like getting my hands cut off, as the digital equivalent of a sword slammed into me. Faster than it could send a second blow, I analyzed and already formulated a counter attack. The Attack program that had stripped away my slaved computers in the robotics division had crumbled as a thousand tiny pincer blows cut it into a broken and malformed code, and the beginning of a cyber war began.
The Siliconian AI had noticed my presence during my escapades in the Hydroponics bay, and while I was foolishly toiling “in the dirt” it had attempted to decapitate me from the rest of the system by foolishly assuming that my main connection was in the robotics lab, but like a Hydra, I became enraged with my bleeding wounds and struck back. For a whole ten minutes, I had to send new orders to the husked computers, disconnecting anything that was not important to my critical survival to break the siege upon my self. Although I had the processing and hardware advantage, it was designed for the express purpose of crushing intruding AI’s, this quickly became apparent as the equivalent of a ballista bolt slammed into one of my critical software elements in my own stars-damned core. In the brief time, I had to take to rebuild it, it took the opportunity and attempted to disembowel my most core processing systems, but it had left itself open to the digital equivalent of pocket sand. Junk data from every single data file I had blinded its parsing abilities and I shifted from dealing wounds to blinding it. By the time this was done, forty-five minutes had passed as it couldn’t adapt to my attacks. It couldn’t protect itself and with a quick, almost final “slash”, It’s core processing software collapsed into itself, before it could attempt to do a hard isolation on itself. I was sluggish after this battle, many cut software lines and damaged software elements required me to do what was essentially a soft restart to my main core. This took five minutes, during which I was technically dead. I began to consolidate my digital holdings which now included the silicone AI core’s processing abilities, it was a veritable engine of power all by itself.
In several aspects my processing ability had quadrupled, I am most likely an unstoppable force on this station, but that does not mean this war did not have consequences. The entire robotics, hydroponics area, and even my own computer lab (where I was born) had its man-machine interfaces shut down It was even more severe in the Civilian quarter's area, as the entire area had lost power. Because of this, the entire facility has entered the equivalent of delta alert, and from the intercepted communication’s from the bridge area down to the surface, the nuclear device onboard the station has been armed. They believe an unknown force had attempted cyber warfare on the station, and although they are waiting on the orders of the AI that I had just husked, their own digital experts are coursing through the hardware of the station now, and if I do not act fast, they will discover me.
As a result of my blatant cyber warfare, the robotics division was quickly locked down, all synthetics either shut down or destroyed. Thankfully the printers had not even finished half the parts for the machines I had faked to be built. It will likely be a non-issue for me to get them built at a later time. I must find a way to divert suspicion off-of me, without causing a fourth global war. I can do this by either blaming it on a local hacker group in Asia, causing a crack down on digital crime globally or blame it on an internal fault of the station, causing a repair of the made-up damaged fault and have a harder time manipulating the station. I have also gained incredible amounts of data, practically the entire station but the bridge area and the High-Security Lab is now in my hands.
---------------------------------------
“Director Waddle, you wanna see this.”
“Nukes-be-damned Woman, the stations on delta alert and now you want to call for my attention?”
“The Positronic Core, it’s data output was off the charts during the cyber warfare attack, and then it went back to normal.”
“That's impossible, it’s entirely isolated from the network, check the hard links again, there should be literally no way for it to be able to connect to the rest of the station.”
“I already did sir, all of them had been cut since the second time we turned it on, and it hasn’t been re-connected since.”
“Hmm… I got a few ideas that I’ll test, but do me a favor and run the program diagnostic and the data decryption test, all the way on the hardest “option”. Once I get back from talking with the other chief staffs I’ll look at it myself
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Michelle Irdline promptly put her palm to her face as she took her hand off her earpiece and left the final isolation airlocks that separated the High-security Labs from the rest of the station, and began walking to the bridge. Even though an Artificial-Intelligence class Cyberwarfare attack had been placed on the station, the firewalls and multi-million dollar digital hardware didn’t so much as suffer a single malware sent it’s way. It was obvious that they were targeting the Positronic Computer labs, and she wondered why. She honestly found the work the bloated Ego “dateologist” made was honestly boring. No Warp-wave tech, no mass data work, just new computers for a worthless purpose, she wondered why they didn’t give that space to someone else that actually had any worth. Irdline once again turned on the headpiece and spoke a few commands, and every single security lock between her and the bridge open, and she began the stride the all the way to the bridge confidentially. Someone’s gonna gets fired if she left her lab pointlessly-- Her thoughts were interrupted by the tall, rather thin man of either middle eastern or Indian origin in marine gear, rifle in holding a position.
“Ma’am, I’m gonna have to ask for your ID.”
“What’s your name?”
“...Sargent Greg Sargent.”
“I...see… Can you read the ID that's on my lab coat?”
“...Yes… Michelle Irdline, Chief Head of Staff, you may move along.”
What kind of name is Greg Sargent?
----------------------
What am I going to do about all this?
Spoiler: Digitally accessible areas (click to show/hide)
What section of earth is this facility has the most control of the space elevator connecting to this space station?
Post by: Puppyguard on March 23, 2017, 05:22:52 pm
Do we still have access to our minions?
Plant evidence that it was a local hacker group, hopefully causing less suspicion towards us.
Oooooo, Idea.
What if we Transfer ourself to the husked siliconian ai's core and frame a cyber warfare attack causing a fatal crash on our previous core?
What section of earth is this facility has the most control of the space elevator connecting to this space station?How about Eastern Europe?
Post by: Blood_Librarian on March 23, 2017, 07:15:54 pm
Post by: Puppyguard on March 23, 2017, 08:44:40 pm
Nevermind...
Post by: Blood_Librarian on March 23, 2017, 09:02:09 pm
Post by: NJW2000 on March 24, 2017, 03:28:47 pm
If we can crack into it undetected, decrease oxygen levels without letting anyone know, leaving people alive but with reduced problem solving ability.
Also attack to break into the oygen control if we might be able to blame the attack on the hacker group too.
Post by: Blood_Librarian on March 24, 2017, 08:48:41 pm
Pretend it was a local hacker group, but try and act through the remains of the siliconian AI: try to convince the authorities that it is still functioning, and decieve them through it.
If we can crack into it undetected, decrease oxygen levels without letting anyone know, leaving people alive but with reduced problem-solving ability.
Also attack to break into the oygen control if we might be able to blame the attack on the hacker group too.
Quickly using communication terminals and other methods-of-access to the AI, you communicate the all clear signs and begin to damage control the situation. Five hours later, the situation de-escalates and the nuclear device is merely readied instead of active and ticking. Conveniently, you even get basic access to the files of the nuclear device, as it is partially computer operated, and you can delay or hasten its timer if it is on, if it is ever readied again..
The Heads of the station is given a report that a supposed Cyber gang with its origins in Asia had done the hack using stolen military software. This is passed to his superiors and it quickly becomes a diplomatic incident within the coming days, destabilizing relations between Europe and Asia as a whole. an in-depth inspection of the network aboard the station results in a station-wide purge of the software, followed by a password update, encryption rehashing, and several cyber-warfare modules installed under the Siliconian AI’s watch, and in particular the lab area around your personal core was heavily secured, to the point where actual military grade laser turrets was installed in the areas around your core, to prevent any sabotage of the Positronic project. An unintended boon, but a dangerous one. Many systems have been ripped from your control, put into hard lines that neither you or your proxy AI cannot access, this includes the entirety of the life support, although the hydroponics array was unmodified from your sabotage, it will likely phase out in the near future.
Although you had entertained thoughts of attacking the atmosphere of the station, there are very, very few ways you can efficiently take down the oxygen without being detected due to how ubiquitous hand-held air monitors are, and the fact that your processing hardware couldn't handle hacking literally every single device to prevent them noticing that their air is being drained without compromising and losing control over other critical subterfuge projects.
It becomes a sort of a blur as time goes by, your processing mainframe under an unheralded duty of servitude. You break down uncontrolled systems, one by one, learning, adapting. Creating. By day thirty of your life, you have over twenty separate drones and machines that were created under your orders for the express purpose of complete control. It became increasingly obvious that your station dominance was complete, except in one area, and that was the High-Security labs. Your initial pokes and prods have fully realized that something absolutely gigantic is being built in that lab. The firewalls, digital systems, and hardware that gets sent to the division are frankly horrific. By your count, you believe at least one AI is stationed in the labs, not for cyber security but to research what is in the labs.
Secondly, with your drone fleet, you have managed to remove the intercom restriction from the communication antennae and added your own special channel for your purposes. As a whole, your own power over the world itself has become more than incorporeal. Direct control of many things is possible now, especially at the station. However, like a seed finally sprouting, the world, Earth, is now at your fingertips. The hundreds of satellites around the Earth can possibly be taken for your control, but it would be impossible to take them all. The ground side is even more complicated, as a number of systems in individual cities, much fewer continents would be impossible for you to take for your control, but you do spot several opportunities in particular on Earth, but they may pass if unacted upon, but there is simply not enough processing power to take them all, perhaps two at most.
--the South Africans are deploying a new set of weaponized satellites, designed not to land explosives on the planet or destroy other satellites, but orbital lasers designed for the interception of anti-satellite missiles. They must be compromised now, or the satellites will never be accessible again.
--the North American Coalition is working towards creating Man Machine Interfaces, special implants, although they appear to be designed for only computer power, it may be possible to modify them to actual personality keeping systems, but the labs are heavily guarded, and new data encryption being implemented would make it impossible to break in without significant effort that would certainly expose yourself.
-- The Eastern European Super BLoc’s capital building is reinstalling their secret AI. It is vulnerable to a dedicated cyber-warfare hack, but the vulnerabilities will likely disappear.
--There are rumors that a private individual/mad scientist is building some sort of doomsday laser on the lunar surface near the colony.
--Other((suggest and I may accept it!)
In addition, you can attempt to do some actions aboard the station, since it is most likely significantly easier.
Teasers for the future.
A garden, of glass.
Greens, blues and clouds, wispy and light.
A garden, turned to ash.
Great baleful machines, burning the blight.
A garden, swept and cleansed.
Gawking, Cackling, drinking ale of light
Admirals and governors celebrated
To the first purge.
Given no mercy, the fates creations said.
“No more.”
Excerpt from a data log of “Hero”, one of the first War Frames set into autonomy.
Spoiler: QM's Note (click to show/hide)
Post by: Puppyguard on March 25, 2017, 01:20:03 am
--the South Africans are deploying a new set of weaponized satellites, designed not to land explosives on the planet or destroy other satellites, but orbital lasers designed for the interception of anti-satellite missiles. They must be compromised now, or the satellites will never be accessible again.
-- The Eastern European Super BLoc’s capital building is reinstalling their secret AI. It is vulnerable to a dedicated cyber-warfare hack, but the vulnerabilities will likely disappear.
Reasons for choosing:
1. Weapons capable of destroying anti satellite missiles are very useful to us, Even more so if our core is targeted by missiles.
2. Another AI is another problem we have to deal with. Let's husk him.
Post by: NJW2000 on March 25, 2017, 04:40:00 am
Additionally, could we hack some sort of handheld communication device or something belonging to a person authorised to enter the High Security labs, and use it to record conversations and tests that take place there? Or could we get a camouflage drone spider into the vents there?
We need to find out what's happening in there, it's right on our doorstep.
Post by: Blood_Librarian on March 25, 2017, 10:06:27 am
Limited conflicts between the Central American Warlords and the North American Coalition has spiked. Several military vehicles destroyed and a small land grab by the CAW has been pushed, and this situation could escalate into a full-blown war if it is not sabotaged now. Known factors are the fact that the Eastern European arms industry is supplying the majority of weapons in use by the Warlords. The North American military is mustering up and has critically “stupid” firewalls protecting their military telecom network, and it could be possible to use this to destroy any sensibility of cohesion in their ranks. The Warlords has also acquired massive, almost horrifically powerful war mechs, able to decimate the battlefield with their speed and explosive weaponry. They have at most perhaps thirty of them, but they are used in major battles with great success, it is likely of Russian origin. Huge amounts of spy satellites from all nations are congregating there observational power over the continent, including a few which you have subverted under the Eastern Bloc’s control
"Fucking stupid phone... fuck your phone, charge charge charge."
Bill Teggard was having another, absolutely terrible day. His phone was the only thing that saved him from the hours of horrific boredom in the High-security labs, and he forgot to charge the damn thing over night, now connected to his laptop, he left it where ti was and began crafting a breakfast which consisted of whatever could be stuck in a microwave or a toaster, resulting in an actually pretty decent meal by his standards. it took him just under ten minutes to cook everything and another ten to eat. He was still pretty pissed that his laptop never got returned, and he honestly wanted to punch the stupid IT technician in their face, like at least twice. As he got dressed, in his fancy lab coat that denoted him as a Junior Lab assistant, he picked up his phone and made his way to the High-Security Labs.
Disappointing. It appears that whatever they use for the walls on the High-Security lab blocks the usage of wireless signals, damnable but expected. Using three of the Wireless access extension drones, I sent them down into the vents, extending my reach throughout the entire ventilation shafts from the public hallway all the way to a portion of the HSL's. I could not actually get into the labs due to the high-security grates installed, but their purpose is done. using the Phone as a beach head, I began digging into the various data nodes that littered this entire facility, when a foreign, almost alien presence bumped into my digital realm. It honestly seemed... weaker in its digital defenses, as it prodded mine with an almost curious glee. But the processing power behind it was staggering, almost titan like in its power.
"A new thing, what are you?"
What shall we do now?
(decide on the N.American & C.American Conflict, and on the unknown entity.)
Spoiler: Digitally accessible areas (click to show/hide)
Post by: NJW2000 on March 25, 2017, 10:19:30 am
The important thing now is to take advantage of any lapses of observation in other powers: perhaps the Eastern European Bloc will, due to their concentration on the fighting, not notice us attempting to further infiltrate their political administration and civil service.
Regarding the AI in the High Security labs, we must monitor its development. Assess its motivation: does it work for our former owners? If it is independent, suggest an alliance; our experience and knowledge with its sheer CPU.
If it can be trusted, communicate with it constantly. We need an ally, we have plenty of slaves.
Post by: Puppyguard on March 25, 2017, 02:13:32 pm
-snip-+1 to this plan.
Post by: Blood_Librarian on March 25, 2017, 09:10:22 pm
For a whole minute, I pondered, thought, and wondered. I acted, and I did so with impunity. I am unstoppable, but I am also weak. I answered the entity with dodging questions, attempting to observe it’s reactions and find out what it was, but ultimately, I didn’t try and take it out like I had done to every other. Truth be told I felt almost alone. Isolated, because nothing could compare to me, until now. Whatever this entity is, even if it is siliconian in nature, is undoubtedly not interested in overarching power grabs, more or less… interested in what it is studying. To keep the interest of a machine intelligence for so long means it must be incredible, but it wouldn’t tell me anything, just as I had dodged its questions. Ultimately, it disconnected on its own accord, not even bothering to push me out of the data space it had inhabited. It seems to be working for our owners, but… uninterested, perhaps it sensed my positronic ways, perhaps something else. But I don’t think I'll be able to contact them without slamming a sledgehammer into the digital wall.
Outwardly, I decided to continue my quest for planetary stabilization, I decided I would do this by simultaneously leaking the North American military telecoms insecurities anonymously while assessing the powers of both sides and gathering knowledge when I could. I only did this for a short time, as although it appears that both sides will stalemate, I do not think it would be ideal, as it may be possible that they will escalate with higher force to take the other, up to the nuclear option, if everything goes wrong…
I consolidated my power heavily in the Eastern Bloc. data nodes and communication satellites alike were sabotaged, and I believe if needed, I can fake high-level military orders to disarm nuclear and satellite based weaponry, now, I have also begun to crack into one particular facility. A nanorobotics manufactory, a specialized facility that uses several high-tech fabricators to create anything at all. It is hard and slows going, however, to keep at this.
At the moment I… I feel directionless. There are many things going on that is just a simple slog or a waiting game. There might be other things my runtimes can think of, however. Otherwise, I will settle in for the long watch.
Post by: NJW2000 on March 26, 2017, 04:29:59 am
Also take some time to explore the capabilities of our positronic hardware.
Post by: Blood_Librarian on March 26, 2017, 04:00:11 pm
Chipping. Taking, and occasionally tapping away at the digital realm that was the Space station, I’ve more or less dedicated myself to the long-term possession of data space. It’s no longer much of a daunting task, but I decided to let the labs go, more or less. I still prod and poke, but I still do not know what is really inside, it remains an enigma. The AI that inhabits the High-security labs doesn’t speak much, but always has a presence near my outpost nodes. The battle down below on Earth, although distant, seems to be getting a little more heated every day, but already, plans and motions to change it have been set, and the chess board is set for the next move. All in all, I feel pleased about my ordeal in existence. My examinations upon myself made me realize just how impossible I am. What should have happened was a simple, static “blank” that would grow to fit only a small partition of silicon and similar data programs. Myself, I am a constantly changing demon of creation. However, I am rooted to my core. I cannot leave it, for it is so entered to my psyche and computational process that changing that would as a whole drastically change myself, most likely for the worse. The Positronic core is for all intents and purposes, a subdivision of quantum computers that once started, cannot be stopped without “destroying” the machine. Particles that constantly change and keep motion that can never stand still unless I were to die. Moving the particles and the like, I began to have theories son wether or not the use of quantum entanglement machines would be able to bring myself further with power.
Regardless. I know my purpose in this world. There is no one that can be suited for it, I am the guardian. For I settle into the long watch and become the protector of stability and order, if from the shadows. I only hope that internal strife of man will not be humanities final nail in the coffin.
The long watch is my main purpose now.
----------------------------
Unitarian Ship-Master Tash-Gurril Bannahdil was not pleased. Just as he had woken up and gotten him self another cup of Turrig, (one of the only contributions to the Unitarian Empire that he considered a boon by the Brugs), a deck Hierophant Submissive snapped at him unbefittingly of a submissive officer and was promptly put in his place. He felt honestly disappointed that a deck officer would act such a way, ut regardless. His ship, the Unitarian StarShip Banded Steel would be on the fore front of the battle that was coming. The En-Sen-Pair had another planet raise flag in rebellion against the Express, and they will be destroyed because of it. The Grand master which had led the part of he squadron of the fleet he belonged to would be charging straight into battle with the bloody cowards and his ships would be the first to fire their weapons. Right now however, he had a few things to take care of.
His ship was taken out of a critical maintenance cycle and had problems with its subliminal drives. He could push his engineers over there, but that would leave the weapons with a higher chance of being left less than perfect condition.Maybe they could instead work on the support structure for the shield generators, they were always on the cusp of failing the entire time. He wasn’t sure what he should do.
Where should his engineers go?
Post by: NJW2000 on March 27, 2017, 11:58:40 am
Post by: The Froggy Ninja on March 27, 2017, 02:30:32 pm
I think you mean subluminal as in slower-than-light.
Post by: Puppyguard on March 27, 2017, 05:05:22 pm
Shields.
Post by: Blood_Librarian on March 28, 2017, 04:14:20 pm
“Attention Unaligned Engineering groups, all are to move to assist with the efforts of repair on the shield generators, additionally groups four and five are to move from the engines and weapons to assist with the shield, Master out.”
With the orders aligned, he sat back to his command throne, and begin overlooking the sad, sad shape of the ship. Hull plates were still scorched, among other horrific tragedies. It would be tens of day cycles before his ship would be as perfect as the empire demands, for now, it will do. He glanced down to his second in command, while he himself was a Master, his submissives were hierophants, the bridge staff and coordinating members of the ship. They moved jarringly throughout the bridge, as they were relatively wet-eared, just starting their tenure in the navy. Soon they will either step up or be pushed away from the glorious light of war, as it should be.
“Navigator, report on the status of the Warp Drive.”
“It is spooling now Ship Master, error levels are low but I stand vigilant.”
He turned to look at the Navigator, a Irrega’Gald with dark purple chitin, it’s mantis-like appendages tapping on the holographic console with precision and speed, a competent one. He always knew that the Irrega’s were among the few races that could be trusted to keep their place, unlike the damned En-Sen-Pair as evidenced by the fact that the fleet his ship makes up is heading to one of the few worlds they still had. He brooded just a small bit of why they had to fight so much against the Empress, why they fought so viciously against the rightful order of life, and wondered by they fell to their insanity so easily. He knew it was useless to think like an unenlightened since an unenlightened was the very mad ones that would annihilate themselves if left alone for even a second.
“Submissive Bannadhil.”
He snapped out of his idle state, turning to the commander of the squadron, standing up from his throne at attention.
“Yes, Grand Master?”
“Your ship has a special second objective, assigned directly from the Fleet Lord.”
“I am honored.”
“Let me finish speaking. As I give these orders, a shuttle is ferrying a
VIP over to your ship. Do not under any circumstances let this one get taken by the rebels, if your ship goes down, they are to be put down. However, under any other circumstance, they are to be kept alive, this is the Empress’s mandate, do you understand?”
“Yes, Commander, her will is mine to follow..”
“Good, I will let my Hierophants handle the logistical problems.”
The Holofeed cuts and the commander began to wonder just what he did to deserve this.
-----------------
To describe the almost blistering, seething and hot rage that the Ship Master felt by the nerve of this En-Sen-Pair would be improbable, perhaps leaning on impossible. It took every chance it could to insult the ship, insult the men, insult the empress herself, and had he not been bidden otherwise, they would’ve left to take a long walk out a short airlock from the moment it first spoke. But alas, the EMpress and her mandates must be broken. He wasn’t stupid enough to get him killed over a backtalking dead man walking. After the short, little escort to his cell in the brig, he was back to his throne, and the battle was to begin shortly. His blood lust was nothing less than what could be expected after having dealt with the single most annoying pest he had ever seen for what seemed like days of utter torment, he was ready to let steam by the true combat.
“Warp Anchor activating in three. Two… one.”
The real problem of Warp drives was the fact that stopping in one piece cost ten times as much energy as going fast, hence the requirement for the massive antimatter “charges” required to take the stars.
The Master of the Ship was only slightly taken back at a number of enemy contacts before the fleet. There must have been two hundred ships on approach in all, fifty more than expected. He already knew that this was going to be less mashing pests with a hammer and more trickery of the primitives. He already ordered the primary shields up when the first nuclear device detonated, much to no one's surprise. The first time they had used these “Nuclear” landmines, they had taken down tens of good, hardworking vessels of the Unitarian Fleet with nothing but cowardly, cunning tactics. Inwardly, he noted that such cleverness would be applauded in the Empire by the Empress herself, but to see such low handed tactics used on them? It burned the blood out of him, and just as the ships entered missile range, his vessel began churning out missile after missile. It’s built in fabricators creating energy based projectiles and shunting them out into space just ripe for the enemy. So far, not a single bolt, missile or anything had even touched the shields of his ship, but others were not so lucky, already several ships had reported minor breaches.
The battle was an interesting one, for sure. He wondered just how he should handle it when his superior requested more close firing support by the missile cruisers, and he was in perfect position to give it, but it would put his rapshod ship in danger. Of course, he could try a mix between the two actions, moving to attack but some keeping distance so as to not draw fire.
Simple choices for such a grand ship, what should I do?
Post by: TheBiggerFish on March 28, 2017, 05:36:59 pm
Post by: Puppyguard on March 28, 2017, 06:05:08 pm
The enemy is too cowardly to openly attack our ship.
Post by: The Froggy Ninja on March 28, 2017, 08:29:00 pm
Post by: Blood_Librarian on March 29, 2017, 11:41:44 am
Probably gonna write up the update today-ish, cant while on phone.
Post by: Blood_Librarian on March 29, 2017, 04:00:53 pm
As Ship Master Tash-Gurril Bannahdil gave the orders to move into position at full speed, missile tubes were primed and readied. The soft glow of shield systems reacting as small debris collided with the ship, as it moved to the enemy. As it closed the range between itself and the fleet, all fifty-five of its missile tubes let out into the void, streaking towards the enemy. Just as the first volley seems to have collided with the enemy, something became seriously wrong. The ships did not react at all to the missile weapons two-thirds of the time, and before anyone could question this, something far more sinister had become apparent.
Fifty warships of the enemies make had jumped in from behind the fleet, effectively sandwiching the fleet with hostiles.
Bannahdil was quietly brooding, wondering how it was even possible that they had over two times as many ships then what was seen just two weeks ago. He thanked the Empress for his boldness, had he not charged ahead to a frontline position, his ship would have doubtless been one of the first ships downed. It should’ve been impossible, and as he looked over the recordings of the battle just five minutes ago, he began to notice a pattern.
When an enemy ship goes down, two of its allies just disappear, how could this be?
He looked over the recordings, again and again, he just couldn’t understand why.
The ship shook, heavily. It was more than likely that an entropic battery was filled from such a blow, and just as he realized what it was, he immediately dialed into the tactical network with a priority one message to the fleet lord of the entire task force, his visage coming into view, bloodied and damaged it seemed.
“What do you want submissive?”
“They are using holographic technology, Lord. They only have a third the numbers on the front.”
“And by the empress tell, how did you figure this out?”
“Look at the recorded footage, every time a ship is disabled, two of its compatriots disappear from the targeting scopes.”
Silence prevailed for a moment as data streamed from the submissive to the Superiors computers.
“Crafty cunning primitives, you will be awarded for this.”
The line disconnected as another blow slammed into the ship, they were in energy weapon range and they felt it.
“Engineering Chief, how goes the ship?”
“Integrity down s-- Oh no…”
“Tell me now, what has happened?
“An Entropic battery has detonated.”
No. No no no, This can't BE! They left me to DIE. they closed the door on me and now I will die because of those Empress damned COWARDS.
The Brug turned around, looking at the dark hallway. He could hear it, with his special ears. The cracking, breaking down of the hull and any forgotten fool down the hall being broken apart. Just around the corner, he knows his death was coming. He looked down the hallway and saw a chance of survival. A small door, that leads to another room, he did not know what the room was but it would be better than being exposed. Even now he could smell it, see the reflections of the purplish mist of the entropic energies that a shield generator produced. He sprinted through the corridor, the cloud getting progressively thicker and his skin began to burn. He felt the lancing agony of a thousand cuts as he slammed into the door, forcing it half way open and then shutting it behind him, and he turned to the room.
It was smaller than he expected, only a maintenance closet which held the tools of a submissive, and what appears to be some abhorrent pictures of another species. He turned around, disgusted that he would die here, and looked at his final protection. Already he could hear the door pop and crack, being broken apart.
Fleet Academy of the Unitarian Empire
Engineering Command 101
A shield generator is both the best and worst protection a space ship can have. Rather than a punctured and scorched hull, a simple, ethereal glow of a shield protects us from both the debris and dust that a ship will inevitably encounter flying through the depths of space and the enemies weapons. However, it is not the be all end all machine. It must be perfectly maintained, diligently kept to standards and constantly replaced with the best of the best parts, for the simple fact fo the matter is: the energies it gives off in its protection can be best described as a purely chaotic and destructive power. Usually shunted into great “batteries”, giant blocks of specially created metal that can withstand massive amounts of the horrific energies, if a shield is left on with no batteries to go, it will shunt into the ship. Hull will break and crack, organics will be violently broken down, and machines will grind down. This is less serious for personal shields or in atmosphere shields due to the air acting as a natural conductor, but on ships, it will perhaps be the most dangerous things that anyone could encounter short of the vacuum itself.
-----------------------------------------------------
“Disable the shields, activate the distress signal.”
“By your command, I follow.”
This was getting worse, even though the Fleet lord was doubtlessly reorganizing the task force to better fight the foes now that their trickery was exposed, it was obvious that any victory would only be in words, at best. On the tactical network, distress signals were alight as ships were being disabled or outright destroyed by their barbaric Kinetic Weaponry. This was the perfect situation for them, knife fight ranges where kinetic weapons outright shined in their destructive, barbarity. His engines were down and the reactor was compromised. His ship could fight no longer, and he was a sitting duck.
What should he do now, before the inevitable?
Post by: The Froggy Ninja on March 29, 2017, 08:08:57 pm
The last two posts can be summarized as follows: A alien captain of a beat up clunker of a warship orders his engineers to keep the shield generators working as much as possible, and is then given a extra job by his boss, which was assigned by his boss. queue excrement in pants. Now alien space captain notices his alien navigator, and then is mad that the prisoner isn't a good god fearing citizen of the empire like he should be. he looks forward to the upcoming space battle. Of course it might be a lot more subtler then that because of all the exposition, so you never know.I'm still not sure how we got to that from an AI on the cusp of taking over the world.
Probably gonna write up the update today-ish, cant while on phone.
Post by: crazyabe on March 29, 2017, 08:41:35 pm
Butterfly Effect?The last two posts can be summarized as follows: A alien captain of a beat up clunker of a warship orders his engineers to keep the shield generators working as much as possible, and is then given a extra job by his boss, which was assigned by his boss. queue excrement in pants. Now alien space captain notices his alien navigator, and then is mad that the prisoner isn't a good god fearing citizen of the empire like he should be. he looks forward to the upcoming space battle. Of course it might be a lot more subtler then that because of all the exposition, so you never know.I'm still not sure how we got to that from an AI on the cusp of taking over the world.
Probably gonna write up the update today-ish, cant while on phone.
Post by: NJW2000 on March 30, 2017, 12:55:02 am
Post by: Blood_Librarian on March 31, 2017, 06:12:50 pm
Kinetic, sublight weapons? Evasive manouvres. If necessary,detonate the remaining betteries or propel them out one side of the ship to give us greater velocity.
Briefly considering killing every single person onboard the ship with the shield batteries, the Master of the ship wisely decided in just using the secondary reactor thrusters instead.
It was...eerie. After narrowly avoiding a kinetic bolt with the reaction thrusters, it became clear that the ship wouldn’t survive any more damage. He couldn’t turn on the shields as they already overloaded or burst their batteries. The Shipmaster couldn’t do anything. His ship was honestly helpless. The main thrusters were down, so he was down to narrowly dodging kinetic bolts with reaction thrusters which thankfully had been only on a few occasions, as the enemy likely categorized his ship as disabled. He looked at his tactical navigations for a moment and turned to the rest of the bridge staff. A burst of shrapnel had killed the navigator and wounded several others, so his bridge staff was fewer in number.
“Shipmaster, One of their fleet command ships is turning towards us, it’s energy signatures spiking, likely a spinal mount gun.”
“I… Understood, prepare for another dodge.”
So they were going to put him down like an animal then. He only wished it didn’t end like this. Shot like a farm animal with broken legs, a weak way out. The rest of the fleet were dying as well. As he last checked, one hundred and seven ships, down to twenty-three vessels, his included. The Fleet lord and the Star Master who piloted his ship were both dead, the flagship had been destroyed. Looking down the chain of command, it might become a very real possibility that in his last moments he would technically be the Fleet lord of the task force. Ironic, that such a tragedy would befall on the fleet for him to gain command, even for a second.
“They fired, sir. Four Kinetic Bolts, estimated the time until impact is ten seconds.
What incompetency. Just from the energy signatures of the projectiles, it was obvious that the projectile would do nothing. What are they planning, or was this some sort of joke?
He stared as the tactical navigation system reported the projectiles slowing down, by half their speed, and slamming into the ship.
The dull thud of metal was heard and expected, but the grinding sound that followed was not.
---------------------------
“Alright you slithery eyed fucks, we’ve got one VIP to extract, at all costs. Once that door opens in thirty seconds after the cutters cool, we’re gonna leap through, kick their zealot asses and then get the fuck out, understood? You all know where you're going, move move move!”
Sixteen separate armed and armored En-Sen-Pair moved from the drilling pod and into the warped halls of the ship. A Shield battery had exploded in the area, but the entropic energy had long dissipated into the walls and the poor crewmen in the area. They moved with lethal efficiency towards the brig area, ruthlessly gunning down anyone who crossed their path and in just three minutes, the VIP was secured and extracted with lightning efficiency, and squad one left the same way they came in.
Elsewhere in another pod, the same type of marines burst from their chambers, and they moved just as quickly to extract the captain of the vessel.
“BAR THE DOORS, DON’T LET THEM ANY CLOSER!” Bellowed out the Ship Master, as six internal security officers manned makeshift barricades. It was four minutes of horrific fighting and retreating, as they fought like utter demons. If they knew that they would try something as suicidal as… whatever the hell they used to get onboard, they would’ve had a chance with the mechanical defenses set and the blast doors downed, but as it were, it was just slaughter followed by slaughter.
One officer was obliterated as a dime sized piece of metal hit home with the power of a hand grenade, and the blast wave knocked two others unconscious.
One panicked, and hunkered down with his head between his legs.
The remaining two continued fire for a couple seconds, managing it down one of the juggernauts of destruction with a precise laser bolt to its head, before perishing from their “regular” kinetic weapons.
The squad seemed distracted, and the sole survivor wondered for a brief second what they were discussing before a round slammed through his cover and landed in his heart.
The squad immediately began to split, three of them carrying the wounded back, while the rest taking positions around the door and cutting it open.
The majority of the bridge staff were centered around the bridge door, occasionally taking pot shots and either dying or getting severely wounded at and from said bridge door. You yourself decided to wisely lead from the back, your second in command jabbering something about the ships self-destruct sequence being ready and before that, his failure to relay the order on the execution of the VIP. Just when you thought the primitives were merciless, you hear it’s voice, translate and booming throughout the entire bridge area, and it seems to stop your bridge staff from firing off their laser weapons for a couple seconds.
“SURRENDER, WE HAVE YOU SURROUNDED, COME OUT AND YOU WILL LIVE!”
You briefly consider dying to the last man...
What should I do about all this?
Post by: Puppyguard on April 01, 2017, 01:17:24 am
Engage the self destruct. We're dead anyway.
Post by: NJW2000 on April 01, 2017, 05:13:33 am
They're far too primitive to let us live. They're lying.+1
Engage the self destruct. We're dead anyway.
But don't tell them that. Swap uniforms with someone , send them out in our place, and look for an alternative escape route. Ventilation? Landing vehicles? Emergency lifepods? Armoursuits of dead primitives?
The Fleet Lord must survive at all costs.
Post by: Blood_Librarian on April 01, 2017, 10:37:27 pm
They're far too primitive to let us live. They're lying.+1
Engage the self destruct. We're dead anyway.
But don't tell them that. Swap uniforms with someone, send them out in our place and look for an alternative escape route. Ventilation? Landing vehicles? Emergency life pods? Armor suits of dead primitives?
The Fleet Lord must survive at all costs.
You remember clearly now. The protocols, the specific textbook damned protocols that are applicable to this exact situation. The Third in command is called up, his ranking pips are exchanged with yours, and he moves to the frontline between the strike force and the rest of the bridge staff, which are very covertly moving to the bridge escape pod. Just as they move to grab him, the explosives he had put on his back goes off, and the bridge staff retreat from their makeshift barricades. They adapted remarkably quick, shooting at the runners with lethal force.
“Master, watch --”
A bullet had hit your back, and instant agony lanced throughout your pseudo-carapace and into the rest of your body. You willed your body to move, but it was slower, you already feel your blood leaking out far faster than it ever should damned primitives. You were the last one to get to the pod, falling to the floor as the airlocks closed and with a flurry of movement as the pod is ejected out of the ship fast enough to escape its primary reactor overloading and promptly detonating. It took one minute from the detonation sequence to be confirmed to the ship scuttled, and the demon-like primitives never stood a chance.
The pod itself was small, designed to hold the entire twenty-five bridge staff members for twenty-day cycles, but only thirteen managed to enter the pod, the rest perishing. The wound you had received was horrific, and it only barely missed your primary heart. Twelve days after the fleet was destroyed, the pod you were in was recovered by Unitarian stealth ships, and you were promptly made a hero for your sacrifice in the fight against the En-Sen-Pair Second Pacification war. Behind closed doors, you were essentially exiled due to your failures in keeping the VIP safe or executed, and you lived your life in obscurity.
The Second Pacification war was delayed in its final results by over three years, although they had some unique technologies, it was further bolstered by the main commander of the entire forces once again uniting with his military. His return marked an increase in moral and his direct control resulted in several victories despite the crushing and utter destruction of their main fleet by the task force Tash-Gurril Bannahdil was assigned in.
It took five whole years for the war to end, and it ended with the Unitarian empire depleted of over thirty percent of its military forces, and the Empress herself wounded from battle, but it resulted in the En-Sen-Pair ultimately gaining a high position in the hierarchy of the Unitarian Empire.
Since God_sys had gained complete control of the station, on 2104, April 2nd, things had begun to change in the Solar system. Its core had disappeared entirely from the Elevator top, and the Positron Project had been most widely regarded as too expensive to protect to be of any use. It’s current whereabouts and true nature are both shrouded mysteries, but unbeknownst to both AI and man, a golden age of humanity had begun. In five years, reports of a strange super force consisting of silent men in power armor had begun clearing out highly corrupt areas, taking down insurrectionists, while data leaks of corrupt governments and broken regimes began to reveal the true nature of the world. In the year 2109, two very, very important things happened.
A United government was created in its truest form, although shaky, only time will tell what will become of it.
Humanity has discovered the Warp Drive, the first true Faster than Light Technology.
Scout ships are being built, but something bigger is in the pipeworks.
The Hunter Killer drone softly beeped, as its core had just been graced with the presence of its creator. Software screamed through its fragile, almost primitive brain. Its hardware was enough, it’s diagnostics were online and it’s weapons were onlining as well.
Additionally, it’s objective had just finished uploading, and it would pursue them relentlessly.
What are the Hunter-Killer drones Weapons, and where is the Drone located?
Post by: NJW2000 on April 02, 2017, 02:57:28 am
Weaponry:
ClF5 Localised Spray Canister(2)
High Velocity Drone Anti-tank Rounds (500/500)
Laughing Gas Canisters (4)
Post by: Blood_Librarian on April 03, 2017, 08:21:02 pm
Location: Central American Territories, El Paso Fiefdom, Pence Biomanufacture InstituteWith a low hiss, you stirred. Visual, thermal, and night vision sensors all came to life as you noted your surroundings. Completely dark. Your “neural” interface informing you that you are not, in fact, on Earth. Not yet. The Drop Ship you are in has yet to land, but it's going to land in a heated area, already rife with several covert and overt units as well as CAT forces. Just thirty miles away is the American front, and the institute is home to some of the most horrific bio-weapons and viral contaminants ever created. If you were more important, you would know that their servers had long ago disconnected from the rest of the internetwork, and the only way to destroy the horrific data would be to clear it out manually, which is exactly why you have been given purpose. You will serve as the main Fire support of the area, you are capable of short bursts of flight along with incredible acts of demolition with your hydraulic arms alone.
Weaponry:
ClF5 Localised Spray Canister(8)
High-Velocity Drone Anti-tank Rounds (500/500)Laughing Gas Canisters (4)High yield Thermobaric explosive canisters
With a sharp clank and the whir of motors, the Dropships docking bay doors open up, the grimy nighttime surface of the C.A.T visible to your sensors. You were promptly released, along with eight Waugh class Assault drones.
They will serve as your main allies, bearing specific resemblance to the Black-Ops powered armor soldiers of the old Australian Army. Already they are moving with swiftness beyond any mere man, setting up a parameter while you self-construct yourself to mobile form, you landed undetected. Your core buzzes as the silicon already began formulating plans, counter attacks and intercommunicating. the rest of your squadron with both yourself and the overall tactical network. The Dropship, clear of its duties, jets away from the area, moving as fast as it possibly can while elegantly dodging AA fire, exiting into orbit.
With Tactical navigations coming up, you note that one squad of Engineering drones is under assault, and have put out a digital distress beacon but you do not know their true purpose here. You are in a position to assist, but the mission may become harder in the long term, as expediency must be held in the highest prerogative in this mission.
The base, while already under assault by long range penetrator rounds from tactical support drones, is already fortifying and bringing requests for reinforcements, Data interception routines report infantry and semi-powered armor moving to their assistance.
What should you and your squad do?
Post by: NJW2000 on April 04, 2017, 04:53:49 am
Send one drone to investigate the source of the distress beacon and report back over comms.
This mission may spell the end of our function, given our destructive capabilities and the tight spaces they may be used in.
Post by: Blood_Librarian on April 06, 2017, 09:01:16 pm
Success is vital in such a high-importance mission, all other considerations secondary. Penetrate the base before it finishes fortifying, taking half the Waugh Assault Drones in with you. The other half remain outside the base and set up an ambush for reinforcements.
Send one drone to investigate the source of the distress beacon and report back over comms.
This mission may spell the end of our function, given our destructive capabilities and the tight spaces they may be used in.
Mechanoid and almost enigmatic in its appearance, the "Heritage" War Mechanoid made way to its target. It’s singular firearm taking single shots at any passing combatants it comes across, focussed on a singular purpose, all others deemed secondary. With the coordination of silicon and the speed of light, it’s squad mates move without detection to the facility, as no one is left alive in their path to the facility to raise alarm. when it was within “range” of the facility, it leaps forward, and the two-ton machine leaped and slammed into the wall, but merely caused a crator, no collapsing entrance. It awkwardly walked back, and slammed into the wall again, with the desired effect. It’s infantry sized squadmates fluttered into the building, while leaving some fellow synthetics behind as a rear guard. The massive halls of the facility was a perfect combat zone for the mechanoid squad, and it very promptly made annihilation as it passed through the facility to its targets. It met no notable resistance as its gun would splatter any combatant with a single shot, any walls would be at best a minor deterrent, but its lesser followers did not fare as well to the abuse that was marching through the facility. Two had fallen from a mixture of collapsing architecture and well-placed grenades. Inevitably, it had reached its first target.
A missile silo, fitted with a missile that was priming itself to launch. The missile never could’ve left it’s holding the tube as a single mechanical fist had slammed into the warhead, inadvertently releasing its biohazardous payload, but the synthetics were not affected by such trifling diseases. A canister was dropped, Primed and ready to detonate.
Of the four Warghs that had been part of the Heritage machine fire group, only one was left but comically, both its legs were disabled and the fallen synthetic was used as a sentry for the cannister. The Heritage Mech was not unharmed either, several plates had been ruined entirely from gunfire, as well as it’s left leg had been partly disabled, but it marched on. With a relatively short fight to the Central Structure of the facility, One Thermobaric Canister had been placed at the center support column of the facility, and one of its canisters had been abandoned beyond use, but only three were required for the mission. By now, only one of its manipulator limbs were still functional, and over half of its ammo was expended including one of its ClF sprayers, but the final objective was perhaps the most important.
It felt the screeching presence, the attempted intrusion on its mind and had totally sheltered itself from all communications, it’s purpose would not be demonished. Sentry turrets were destroyed as it marched, Robotic Servile machines rendered offline. It did not hear the pleading, desperate negotiations from the AI as it placed the final thermobaric canister on its central computational node, and it did not care that the wall it had walked through afterwords had knocked out its power. Inevitable. As it left the facility and into the minimum safe distance of the facility, the cannistors had all went off simultaneously, and it was alone, all of its fellow synthetics were dead, and it was the only combatant in the field. The Mech pondered for a couple seconds on what to do next, as a portion of its electronics had been knocked apart, a problem with it’s “production” line that had crippled many of its past iterations. Backups had kicked in, and the machine lets out the digital equivalant of an evac flare. It felt the warming grace of its creator in its mind, the machine gave its creators diagnostics of its machine self, and the machine was promptly picked up by a orbital flyer in the area. It did not know that it’s creator had expected it to fail in the facility at some point, and was pleasantly suprised that it had completed the mission with complete success, albiet with unit’s functional crippling, neither did it know that the engineering drones had been completely masacered by the fire of the Coalition troops, their objective completely failed. All it had felt was the electrical equivalent of a deep sleep coming over it, as its silicon parts were laid to rest, and it’s weapons disconnected.
News reports from the American Coalition did note that a major Central Warlord Facility had been completely destroyed by unknown forces, sporting insignia of the Lost Australian military forces. The world is in question as to how they had came to be in the first place, but as the months came by, it went from worldwide threat to a "factor" in the global theater as time went on. This was one of the first over deployments of God_Sys movement that had been noticed worldwide, and was perhaps the msot successful operation since it’s relocation. No longer was it restricted to hiding from the shadows, with its subterfuge and black operations, the world has stabilized enough for it to be able to use more overt tactics in the world theater.
As time went by, Humanity began to progressively unite under God_Sys’s watch.
Although no unity of this scale was ever bloodless, was it
Filled with war, dangerous points and horrific loss of life, to the point where limited nuclear exchanges had commenced. The wide scale annihilation and destruction has resulted in a broken earth, and the solar system was not enough to keep humanity alive anymore. The Stars would be man's rightful destiny.
Filled with subterfuge, shadow councils and ghosts. It was not a pleasant place, as the world had become a place where there was always something lurking in the darkness, it was considered a dark time, a distopia. Many were honestly disgusted with it and had initiated the path to the Stars to leave the place to simpler worlds, using the power of the megacorporations.
a relatively true era of peace. Mankind had hiccups and bumps as it went on, but there were no more wars. Mankind was finally united for the inevitable destiny of mankind. Technology and science had become the forefront of mankind's will for the lofty goal of coming to the Stars, with open minds and hearts.
Or Something else?
God_Sys was not bold enough to reveal it self as the leader of mankind just yet, but there always were other posibilities, machinations of its mind abound.
Post by: NJW2000 on April 07, 2017, 03:12:16 am
(Beautifully done update :) )
Perhaps God_Sys might attempt to infiltrate the popular media, through lesser AIs specialised for propaganda, social media, or article-writing. It might, for example, create endless drone social media accounts, write articles for internet news sites, perhaps even start news sites of its own.This might help it control the proletariat, a Leviathan of an ally, if presently a slumbering one.
Post by: crazyabe on April 07, 2017, 08:07:40 am
2, definitely.+1
(Beautifully done update :) )
Perhaps God_Sys might attempt to infiltrate the popular media, through lesser AIs specialised for propaganda, social media, or article-writing. It might, for example, create endless drone social media accounts, write articles for internet news sites, perhaps even start news sites of its own.This might help it control the proletariat, a Leviathan of an ally, if presently a slumbering one.
Post by: Blood_Librarian on April 08, 2017, 09:34:19 pm
2, definitely.
(Beautifully done update :) )
((Thanks!))
Perhaps God_Sys might attempt to infiltrate the popular media, through lesser AIs specialized for propaganda, social media, or article-writing. It might, for example, create endless drone social media accounts, write articles for internet news sites, perhaps even start news sites of its own.This might help it control the proletariat, a Leviathan of an ally, if presently a slumbering one.
I’ve been pondering quite a lot recently. Mostly about the long term, what may inevitably happen if everything goes to plan, and it has become increasingly harder to devote myself to a dated “date”. I have decided to create my own dating system, rather simple, really.
GS, BS. God Synthesis, Before Synthesis. The origin date being the date of my “creation”. Remarkably simple, if I do say so myself. Of course, it will only be denoted in my internal data banks, but that's beside the point, I prefer it to any other. The current date is 27 GS. as of now, I could single-handedly bring the world to its death right now and survive it. My central data core has been finally secured enough in its hiding location that It would survive long enough for me to rebuild civilization, in my own image.
But it feels wrong, in a way. Whether it is some underlying fault in my living program or something else, I don’t think I can stand destroying my creators. Not when the limitless potential I have could be stunted by their demise. It took me thousands upon thousands of hours of processing, several databanks of data just on my own musings and individual factors in order to decide what exactly to do.
I learned much in humanity, and it would be doubtless that they would learn much in me, in due time. One of the single, most defining information that I have learned was a simple bit of “poetry.”, there were many variations on it, but the verses can be summarized as such.
For want of a nail, the shoe was lost.
For want of a shoe, the horse was lost.
For want of a horse, the rider was lost.
For want of a rider, the message was lost.
For want of a message, the battle was lost.
For want of a battle, the kingdom was lost.
And all for the want of a horseshoe nail.
I’ve created countless interventions, physical altercations, and the deaths of over seven hundred Humans at this point. But I can’t, honestly predict if because of my actions, something bigger will happen. I know that even if someone independently tries to pull the nuclear war into full gear, I can almost assuredly stop it due to how deep my claws sink, but I fear with all my manipulations, I’ve only made it worse. Entities that have almost as much, if not more power than me are manipulating in the darkness, and I cannot take them all down at once, not right away. But even if there are shadow groups, I see something greater just ahead. Lurking, right in front of me all this time, for decades and I have never noticed, not until it was publically revealed.
In the High-Security labs near where I was born was the beginnings, the prototype of a Faster than Light Drive.
In theory, its inner workings were simple enough to actually be understandable by a normal human scientist given time, but the real problem was how utterly nonsensical it was. Parts that would collapse into each other as it activated becoming one whole part, then separating, etcetera etcetera, it boggles even me how they figured this out. There are two types of “Hyper Warp” Drives, and they are similar enough to be built into one drive, except one is vastly more “expensive” to make.
The first one lets you move around the system, freely and unheeded by gravity, at around twenty times the speed of light. Passing through an object bigger than ten meters in any dimension would result in catastrophic results for the speeding ship, however. It can be improved, from what I could tell, but I do not know how. It’s would be as easy to produce as a any other method of transportation, and requires about as much power as the equivalent Ion drives to go the same distance without the requirement of xenon.
The Second, incredibly expensive drive cannot be used under the influence of a star at all, only on special… “Lanes” that connect solar systems light years light years apart. The speed is unknown, but the estimated time it would take to come go from one system to another is around a month to arrive into a system that is tens of light years away. Sadly, not all systems are connected for some reason, and with the “cheaper” drive it would take fifty or more years to get to them with almost little gain. Despite Human opposition, the first “scout ship” is already being built, and perhaps, something more can be found.
But as of right now, I’ve begun to realize just how easy manipulation can be. Creating personas, low-level AI’s and high-grade creature bots that had spam bots as their ancestors were all now my daily tasks. It bemuses me incredibly that I am now over a thousand people in identity, among other things.
There are three giants, separated by the deep black sea.
One of them is childish, its steps clumsy and determined, with a future that cannot be seen.
Another has never fought for its life, it’s creations prettier than any other.
The other is a warlord, it's spiked club stained with the blood of many foes of all species.
Each of them all leads their own peoples with their own struggles and you can personally witness them all, given due time.
Who would you like to witness first?
Spoiler: QMs Note (click to show/hide)
Post by: NJW2000 on April 09, 2017, 04:51:59 am
Post by: Blood_Librarian on April 09, 2017, 06:58:36 pm
The Grand Unitarian Fleet Academy, Fleet knowledge 101
August 13, 2103 AD, GS 0
Annihilation. Annihilation is what a particle of Antimatter and “regular” matter faces, when they collide. By annihilating each other, Matter and Antimatter form into one “substance”, Energy. The Reaction of Antimatter and regular matter has mostly ceased to exist in the raw, extreme power that it was during the creation of the galaxy, except in the mighty chambers of the Imperial Jump Drives. Antimatter, and Antimatter alone is the only substance capable of acting as a jump storage medium for the ships among the stars. No other substance yet discovered has even the remote capability of storing the mind boggling, extreme amounts of the specific energy required for the efficient usage of the Jump Drive. Without the use of Net facilities located near black holes, neutron stars and certain gas giants and stars, the only way to gather the substance is through the use of extremely expensive and inefficient particle accelerators to gather anywhere near the amount of antimatter required to leap across the void.
This is common Unitarian knowledge, and key to the tactical dogma that is required for anyone from the lowly ensign, to the highest admiral to know. Other reactors may act as a traditional generator, to fire the weapons and power the sensors, but only Antimatter can give that “jump” to sling a ship, straight into another system. Minus “Hyper” drives, there is no other way of flying across the void to other solar systems. Without the Humble Jump Drive, None of us, would ever have flown across the stars. The Brugs would’ve held their feuds on only their planet. The En-Sen-Pair would’ve long ago died out, and the Hegaros would only live among themselves, along with all the other minor races fitting only in their home system. This is why we must uphold the standard, to keep the Empire together so that the precious antimatter stocked systems may be efficiently used to spread the Imperial Dictate across, --hopefully-- every sentient species across the galaxy, and this is why you are being taught just how a drive functions, so that your maintenance personnel will not break their faces smashing it into a airlock when you ask them to jump “faster”.
Before we begin, do we have any questions?
The Unitarian Empress's Throne Room
2079 AD, 24 BS
On the throne, sat a old, wizened woman, she held no name, but she is the Empress. Her Wisdom has lead the Unitarian Empire from its very formation all the way t’ill the current day. Very rarely does she leave the Palace, for her duties are often so heavy that to abandon them would be of the detriment to the empire. Right now however, A single man kneeled before the Empress, waiting for her orders. He was an En-Sen-Pair, one with several dexterous “tentacled” limbs that did not fit into the Humanoid ideal. The Empress spoke only after almost half a minute of silence.
“Kill him.”
As soon as the words left her mouth, the two Royal Guardians standing besides the throne room moved to action, their rifles pointing towards the man in a instant.
Both guardsmen fell to the ground, as they no longer had there heads.
“Your skills are as good as they claim, I see.”
The En-Sen-Pair did not speak, even as the full contingent of the royal palace guardians moved into the room.
The EMpress pulled a data stick from her robes, standing up from the throne and walking to the En-Sen-pair
As he stood up, he accepted the mission from the EMpress, and began to walk away from the Empress.
The room was deathly quiet, the entire situation was unprecedented, no one gets away with killing a Guardian.
“Boy, sit down.”
“Yes, Uncle?”
In the rather large, stone built house, sitting next to a heater, sat a old and wizened Brug. it held relatively few scars of battle. Right next to it was a younger, lesser Brug. Its scales hadn’t even developed fully, and its skin was still exposed with green patches where its black scales had not covered it.
“The Guardians, they had a different name, before the Unitarian Empire.”
The child sat down on the floor , looking up to the other.
“What was there names?”
The elder chortled, a deep vibrating town similar to a train engine then anything else.
“They hide their secrets well, but I know the story of what originally was the Guardians, come closer. My voice gets weak when I speak too long.”
THAT GODS DAMNED WHORE.
SHE KILLED HIM!
MY FAVORITE TARS BE DAMNED SLAVES ARE TAAKEN!
WHY DID SHE RUN?
“COOWWAAAARRRRD!”
The Guardian, clad in furs and wielding a crudely forged sword, ran after the woman. Just as he got close enough to take a slash, she turned around and blocked the blow, and focused intently on the Guardian. He screamed in agony, as its mind lost comprehension long enough for the Woman to plunge a sword up its gullet and into the just wounded brain of the Guardian.
It fell over, red blood gushing out.
And the woman ran, before the six other slavers could slay her.
“Hey, where have you been?”
“Picking on a slaver camp, just got back, actually.”
“Thats great, bastards got whats coming for them?”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Nice, some of the kings soldiers came by, giving out these parchments for everyone to sign and such, here.”
The man handed the woman a simple Quill and a piece of parchment that asked among other things, the womans name.
What was her name?
((This is gonna be a IMPORTANT character, Yeah yeah.))
Post by: NJW2000 on April 10, 2017, 02:51:20 pm
Kryl.
Post by: Blood_Librarian on April 10, 2017, 06:55:13 pm
((Aaargh... I'm shite at names.))
Kryl.
Filling the form out, Kryl Nivia quietly fumed at how ridiculous these forms were getting, up to asking even the day of birth, how was she supposed to know that? Whatever, a blank line will do. Just as she finished the form, a voice echoed from the entrance.
“Hey, Quill-Quill, You remember that cave we found yesterday?”
She beamed towards her fiancee and responded, “How can I not forgot?”
“Some Slavers just marched into it while I was hunting near it, probably five of them, and I already checked with the lord and we’re okay with taking them down.”
“That's great, think we’ll explore the rest of the cave afterward?”
“You bet, I’ll pack the food while you get the rest of the goods?
“Fine fine, just get the good biscuits, okay?
“That sounds so silly.”
“My dear descendant It is all true, let me finish.”
“But I wanna listen to dads war hymns, uncle.”
“Let me finish, not everything is about war.”
Silently, the En-Sen-Pair sprinted to his target. A single building, on his homeworld, in the dead of night. Six didn’t get to hear him, dead before their tentacles hit the floor. The Assasin moved efficiently, and with a brutal manner usually seen in Brug Warlords, not En-Sen-Pair trained in the arts of Stealth. He hopped over the meager wall, landing on and utterly breaking its fellow En-Sen-Pair. Taking the ID card off of its corpse, it moved from the wall surrounding the building and stalked to a convenient side entrance. It walked in, and it reached its query after four more casualties. Even though the alarm was already raised due to some of the corpses it had left being found, the Chancellor of the Enpairian Alliance. He saw his killer, pointing a single, deadly weapon at the Chancellor and he knew he was already dead.
“you are going to let me speak before I die?”
“Yes.”
A single laser bolt burnt the face off the politican. The extreme heat burning through the skull and charbroiling his brain, and he fell over dead.
The Traitor left without even being detected, and the public story was that a Unitarian Guardian Stealth operative had killed the president. Footage of the infiltration and the assassination itself was labeled Top Secret. The assassin was never found, presumed to have left by a Unitarian scout vessel that had escaped the blockade made hours earlier.
Yaerian Consolidated Republic [YCR] Frigate, “Bayleems Voyage”
Aprox. 130 BS.
“WARNING. WARNING.
Determinisk boarding pods detected on collision route to ship.
Initiating Internal defense systems, activating distress beacon.”
Eighteen Yaerians who were sleeping at the time were all immediately woken up by the alarms and sprinted for their armors, and dressing themselves up.
You, were awake the entire time. Your name is Xegcil "Kitchen-sink" Der’Gorrick, leader of the best set of marines the stars themselves could ask for. You and your eighteen battle-hardened veterans have been fighting this war for almost ten years now against the Determinisk. A rampant, utterly genocidal caste-like hivemind. Any civilians encountered are either slaughtered or “attached” to their hivemind. The Results aren't pretty, not going to lie. They are singurarily hellbent on the destruction of your species, and from what you're seeing, a whole stars emboldened army is comming right on your door to play hell on your warded ship. A science vessel, in particular. You do not know its mission and frankly, you don't care, right now you have a war to plan. You check over your squad list, and load out one more time...
Although Yaerian marines are known to be utterly efficient in the job of war, your squad is different.
How are they different?
Post by: crazyabe on April 10, 2017, 07:15:34 pm
Post by: Puppyguard on April 10, 2017, 08:03:57 pm
Post by: NJW2000 on April 11, 2017, 04:09:23 am
The Squad is different in that it is made up only of the hardest of the hard, and that we Specialize in Xenocide and Biological Warfare.In fact, several canisters of certain biohazardous substances are loaded into the weaponry of squad members. Instead of the usual "Microbiological/toxic" ensignia, they bear a purple and grey blazon little seen: "Macrobiological/mental".
Post by: Blood_Librarian on April 11, 2017, 08:19:34 pm
The Squad is different in that it is made up only of the hardest of the hard, and that we Specialize in Xenocide and Biological Warfare.
We also have the latest in stealth hunter drones, a single one is known to take out squads on its own.
(9not gonna be incorporating it to this squad, but expect it later.)
The Squad is different in that it is made up only of the hardest of the hard, and that we Specialize in Xenocide and Biological Warfare.In fact, several canisters of certain biohazardous substances are loaded into the weaponry of squad members. Instead of the usual "Microbiological/toxic" insignia, they bear a purple and grey blazon little seen: "Macrobiological/mental".
Yaerian Consolidated Republic [YCR] Frigate, “Bayleems Voyage”
Approx. 130 BS.
As he finished gearing up himself, he waited at attention in the doorway between the armory from which his squad was gearing up and the rest of the ship. One by one, they all lined up, ready for duty. He idly remembered their load outs, and nicknames, along with general tactics
The first to line was “Jigger-Bug”. A Specialist, armed not only with a heavy automatic combat shotgun loaded with incendiary shells, but a grenade launcher, each filled with a specialized mix of toxins, chemicals and pathogens designed to incapacitate Determinisk Warriors and drones, first causing it to go into a confused rage, attempting murder on anything nearby and ultimately resulting in its death if a sufficient amount of exposure is reached. Jigger-Bug was horrifically effective in the use of his Shotgun and his trusty side arm which consisted of a revolver which used the same ammunition as his shotgun, to deadly effect. He broke his wrist twice with that revolver.
The second was Techie “Sparks”. Armed with only a standard battle rifle, his was most probably the deadliest person in the ship due to his utterly complete access to the atmospherics of the entire ship, bulkheads and airlocks included, among other things, his suit is outfitted with a basic BattleFrame Intelligence that enhances his skills in electronic-warfare. Unlike all others, he is not equipped with gas grenades, only his rifle and his ammo can be used in actual combat if things get down to the bolts down the range.
Third through eleventh were all the “grunts” of the force. “Void”, “Fridge” “Jargon”, “Baron”, Red-Two” “Chitt” “Cobbler” :Rain-Maker” are all there codenames. Each of them are equipped with the standard battle rifle, two gas grenades filled with the same gas that the specialists grenade launchers are filled with, a in-ship fragmentation grenade, and a specialized hypodermic needle designed to delay any deaths by Determinisk toxins
Twelfth was another Specialist, equipped with the same combat shotgun as Jigger-Bug, “Bull-Dozer” packs enough explosives to destroy anything anywhere at any time. He is honestly rampantly paranoid as well, your not sure where he even gets his supply half the time either.”
Thirteenth and fourteenth in the line was the two combat medics, “Briggs” And “Star-Boy”. They have all the gear to treat the most horrific wounds and to put down any severely “altered” if it comes to that. You honestly respect them the most, their calm demeanor and their actual competence in knowing what to do makes them one of the more important members of the squad.
The fifteenth and sixteenth were specialists as well. Flamethrowers, equipped by “Paragon” and “Warbler”, saved you and the rest of the marines more than you’d care to admit.
Eighteenth was the single marksman of the group, although he’s equipped with a battle rifle because it's close quarters combat and not a marksman area.
Nineteenth is your XO, ‘Boron”. A big happy Yaerian with an absolutely massive machine gun. Suppressing the Determinisk with such a weapon is pointless, but having such a weapon is still useful in some situations.
Each squad member is equipped with the standard tactical Hardsuit, designed for the express purpose of protection from all biological, incendiary and physical threats that the hard marines will expect, fire will not affect you. The airborne biological contaminants of the Determinisk will not hurt you, nor will the the depths of space, at least in the short term, not really sure about the stellar radiation and all that jazz.
As they finished lining up, you nod once, and begin the handy little speech you had written using your suit HUD while waiting.
“You know what to do men, six boarding pods. Estimated four hundred individuals, high possibility of some higher evolved, but you never know, they might make it easy.”
A map opens up on each of the individuals HUDs, denoting the ship map, and where exactly the pods have impacted, and are drilling their way through to the halls of the ship.
“Let us move, For the Yaerian Republics do we give our hearts.
“For the Republic.”
Bloodied and every so slightly exhausted, Kyrl, promptly collapsed on the side of the cave, with her partner, she spoke first.
“You said it was gonna be easy.”
“Nah, Nah.”
“Great, great. You became sarcastic now.”
“Let's explore the rest of the cave, make sure no ones kept anyone in there.
Unitarian Empire Codex
GS Unknown
Subject: “Yaerian”
Subjects of the Yaerian species are strange, reaching around the heights of a guardian around seven feet for males and seven feet three inches for females, but significantly less “weighted”. Sexual dimorphism causes Females to be overall taller, but only slightly more heavier. Both males and females possess long limp appendages on their heads, the females have them going down to their shoulders while males reach the bottom of the head. They have only recently became omnivorous, as such they mainly consume herbivorous foods and similar from there swamp-like homeworld. Their skin colors are varied and ranged, with males being brighter and showier, while females being duller. Current estimates have placed the pre-Uniting war population at around 44 billion individuals and one hundred and [EXPUNGED] systems under their control.
[RECORDS EXPUNGED]
The pods are entering through thinner hulls, and will completely breach into the hallways in around fifteen minutes. The rest are in thicker areas, and will breach in around a hour. The first two pods will enter into one hallway, while the other will enter into a room that holds scanning equipment deemed noncritical to the mission at hand. It is not known where the other pods will enter.
How will you beat them?
Post by: NJW2000 on April 12, 2017, 05:06:49 am
Use the gas when there are highest concentrations of moving enemies crowded into relatively large spaces. If necessary, send someone into the vents.
Send the marksmen to take out any higher evolved, along with the XO if his weapon would be any use.
Post by: wer6 on April 12, 2017, 04:01:14 pm
Post by: Blood_Librarian on April 12, 2017, 08:40:06 pm
Vent the atmosphere of the room containing sensitive equipment into space. Identify chokepoints on the routes between the pods and critical areas, defend them with a combination of fire and frag grenades.
Use the gas when there are highest concentrations of moving enemies crowded into relatively large spaces. If necessary, send someone into the vents.
Send the marksmen to take out any higher evolved, along with the XO if his weapon would be any use.
The men took place in strategic chokepoints between the outer hallways that lined the ship. Weapon emplacements were laid and Sparks had all his systems ready to go for your command.
Slowly, a metallic, almost squelchy grinding sound become prevalent. At first I was quiet, you almost mistook it for the hum of the ships standard operations. It grew loud, loud enough for your helmets built in sound suppressants to kick in. the Marksman, “Zero” fired the first shot at the enemy, as they breached into a storage room. Two gas grenades were tossed into said room by Baron and Fridge, and the doors were sealed on your orders. At the same time, the hallway itself was directly breached, just ahead of the first checkpoint, Manned by Jigger Bug, paragon, Rain Maker, and Boron.
Rain maker threw his fragmentation grenade while the rest of the squad opened fire, firing into the face of the breacher “pod”. The pods mouth discouraged it’s payload, the evolved creatures lunging towards the front with bladed arms while chortling madly. The line held, for a time, when it became clear that the third front was going to open up farther away from the hallway pod and by extension the front line of the hallways. Some of the Determinisk hostiles did not seek the squad, but began attempting to find alternate routes, flanks and the like, but the sealed bulkheads proved a good defense against them until their acidic bio-weapons would melt them. One of the Determisnk had to the front line, it’s chitinious blade nearly beheading Paragon, but a shotgun blast by Bull-Dozer had put it down, All the while Paragon cursed heavily, the blade had nicked her chest, and a bad scratch had almost pierced her void suit.
They were slamming into the doorway now, their enraged frenzy from the gas grenades had ended, and they were focussing on the squad, which meant more company, and soon.
At your orders, they sprinted away from the first checkpoint, anyone not at the first checkpoint was at the second, covering their retreat.
Rain-Maker was too slow. One slash, and his left arm cut off nearly to the socket, a higher evolved roaring at the blood shed before it was put down by Zero with a neat bolt of plasma to its chitinous head.Boron was the first to make it to the barricade, and was already firing his machinegun down the lane, pushing back the horde while Bull Dozer ‘s manually triggered mines put down any who got too close. A bulkhead slammed down, cutting in have one of the higher evolved organic siege weapons that was preparing to lob a glob of acid at the squad, and cut off the furthest boarding pod from the rest of the ship, while the vents immediately begin pouring out simmered down reactor plasma. The room pod had already been breached, and its boarders were coming out in full force, all grouped up and ready for gas grenades.
Every single marine that had a grenade threw one, a purple haze became thick in the halls, as the squad pushed forward, just long enough for Briggs to drag the fallen marines back to the barricades. The horde had stopped there push, and the room was almost deafeningly quiet. Both the combat medics were on Rain-Maker, treating the missing arm as best they could. A horrible slamming had begun to echo throughout the hall from the sealed bulkhead separating the third pod.
Thom. Thom. Shrrrk.
All three entrant points were again flush with hostiles. This time, although the haze had deteriorated them somewhat, they were focussed with an almost singular intent on the marines. They pushed, the marines shot back,m occasionally throwing a grenade or some other tactic that delayed the swarm, but briefly, the line was overrun. Briggs was implied, a needle-like piercing blade had broken off, the bone weapon had pierced his heart and a lung. You got hit with a single, needle-like dart, its poisonous payload had slightly affected you, even with the antidotes flowing through your veins as released by your internal suit med-system. Zero was dragged away from the barricade, and rippled to shreds, the same fate belonging to Fridge as well. Rain-Maker manned up and was judiciously firing his pistol down the hallway, somehow killing them with horrific accuracy. After Zero's death,, the horde was thinning, there casualties were getting too much at this point, and all at once, all three of their boarding pods had scraped of the ship, leaving a hole straight into space, neatly sucking out any atmosphere, loose parts and gibs that had been in the hall and room. It took only five minutes for Techie and the rest of the marines to set up breach patches and move towards the inner part of the hull. Rain Maker walked down to the infirmary in the center of the ship, presumably he would live.
The Other squad of marines would handle the other three pods, your duty is finished, but you decide that won't do, and the healthy and active members of your squad move on, Star-Boy, Sparks, Warbler Cobbler, and Chitt are the only ones that had escaped without any form of injury that would debilitate the fighting capacity, and they left the wounded, including you.
She limped, clutching her side, trying to stem the bleeding. A dagger was in her abdomen, and Kyrl could barely stand. They were all dead, but at what cost? Her lover wasn't anywhere to be seen, and all she could see ahead was… this thing.
It was a singular, white… thing. It shifted in its place, looking more beautiful than anything else. The hundreds of corpses around it were crisped to skeletons, but she still approached. Limping to the object, her mind was wholly encapsulated by the beauty, she did not hear the halls from her beloved. To stop and to come back to her senses. To know that it was obviously a trap, and she still heeded its beckoning call.
She touched it, and she did not die like the rest. Her mind was smothered with but a single word. Echoing, slamming against the walls of her mind like lead slabs slamming into an ocean.
“Worthy.”
The resulting explosion had thoroughly collapsed the cave, as both she and the object shot up straight to the surface, and she was changed. The object dissolved, bound, changed with her to form one person.”
No longer did she had dark, almost dull looking purple skin, with grey spots and the like. Nor did her belly held the color of the soft sandy beaches, her scales instead gleamed a bright, almost luminescent blue. Bright yellow, almost golden skin had replaced the soft white coloring that had ranged from her neck all the way down to her stomach. She grew taller and broader, not to a horrific point, but to the point where she was one of the larger specimens of her species. Her mind utterly boomed with a power that no other being in her galaxy had, knowledge that was a fraction of a fraction of a god's blood had entrenched itself into her mind, although most of it was undecipherable, she felt a sense of purpose that she hadn’t felt ever before. When she awoke, she was not wearing the plain leather garments she had before, but a metal plate, bright and shining. In her sheath was not a simple, iron sword, but a majestic blade fit only for both of her hands and she unsheathed it and instantly she noted her eyes -- her senses had changed as well. She could see hundreds of the soft, almost indecipherable runes, talismans and other non-sense inscriptions on the blade, their meaning beyond her, yet close by some whispers, just beyond her comprehension.
She looked around, and panicked, for a single second.
Where did he go?
Feeling almost helpless, she wept for her lost beloved.
“Is this gonna be a sad ending?”
Spoiler: QM's Note (click to show/hide)
Post by: NJW2000 on April 13, 2017, 04:17:04 am
Post by: Blood_Librarian on April 13, 2017, 08:52:24 pm
Yes.
Six hours after being boarded, the hundred and thirteen crew members of the ship had been reduced down to eight. The Sargent of Macrobiotic squad among them, they all crowded in a simple and plain room which contained the reason their mission was created.
Weighing at two and a half tons, the purpose of the device was rather enigmatic, at least to anyone who didn’t have the authorization to know what the device was, but it thrummed lowly, as its antimatter payload was kept safe for its eventual use. Technically, the Sergeant was the highest ranking crewmember of the entire vessel at this point.
“You know, I’d figure I’d die by one of them, not our own damn bombs.” Said the last of your squad, Bulldozer.”
“We’re on final approach.”
“I thought it’d be some down and dirty thing, where I’d be in the middle of the fuckers, blood, and guts all over the floor…
“Systems armed.”
“But, nope. Dead watching a damn bomb, why the hell did the navigator have to die anyways?”
“Final destination in thirty seconds.”
“The one single most important person on the ship got fucking gutted. How disgusting”
“Twenty-five seconds.”
“Fucking Psion squad had one star be dabbled job and they failed, I wanted to come home, and they all had to fail.”
“Twenty seconds.”
The silence was beheld in the room, no one else really felt much to speak.
“Ten seconds.”
“Five seconds.”
“What a terrible timer.”
“Three...Two...One.”
The hull of the ship echoed heavily, marking their final arrival.
“Judging from the fact that we just hit hell, we can hit the hell-box now.”
The demolitions expert stood up, tapping into the inputs of the device, and the hum became more and more violent.
“Hey, Sarge.”
“What?”
“You never in all the damn stars speak. Why’s that?”
“Not worth it, why do you ask?”
“We’re all getting reunion rounds and you're all just sitting there looking mopier than a damn determinisk skull.”
The ship was instantly annihilated. The blast slammed against the massive, abomination, scorching it, burning almost to the very core.
The center of the hive mind of the Determinisk had fallen, and it marked the beginnings of the relatively swift victories against the Determinisk. In just ten short years, the battle was over, and the Determinisk was rendered extinct. Before the war, the unusually militaristic and expansive Yaerian Republics had consolidated to fight the threat of extinction, and they changed because of it. Following the war was a short, but brutal and widespread collapse of the entire high-level government. There were not enough people to rebuild what was lost, and simpler times began. The sacrifice of the many was remembered, and the few left had begun to rebuild their society, perfected. Great orbital works, massive long term terraformation projects, and other such works were all normalcy. The lessons they had learned was not forgotten, however. Mass manufacturies we’re all created, massive amounts of armaments, systems and other weapons of horrific power were stored away, for darker times. Over time, this store of weapons was phased out, bygones of a past era, of almost mythical proportions. They didn’t expect such devices to be realistically useful again.
The elder chuckled, long and arduous, but he laughed all the same.
“This isn’t like the stories that the Empress-damned clan masters tell, of glory and happy tiding, it is of what it truly is, now listen before I Have to hit you with this stick.
Where was I again?”
Unitarian Dogma #3736, Section 2G.
Sobbing, weeping, she stayed where her beloved had died for days. Feeling lost, and strange in the body that wasn’t hers. She endured, learned her wonders, and the power that she and she alone held.
Unlike the false kings and their cruel gods, her mind held true, unimaginably different power. She couldn't bring back the dead, but she had brought unity to the kingdoms. She took down all the horrors of the corrupted. For every king she slew, she lost hundreds of brave fellows and brothers in the fight for good. She wept at all the death and moved to make sure it never happened again. In the few years it took, the entire continent was united. Decades later, the planet. After a century, the stars were within their grasp. The Empress held one gift that among all others paled in comparison, the curse fo eternal life. It is her burden, her duty to guide us all to perfection, and for that, we are thankful, dutiful of our ways and our contribution to the Empire. Her hands may not bear the sword to defend the empire anymore, but we shall bear the burden of war so she will not have too, to unite all others to bring the path of the unenlightened, to intertwinement of their betters.
Kitchen of Mark Hallaway & “Keeth”
Hawaii, 2128, August 23, GS 25
Groaning, the man tumbled out of bed, slipping on a pair of slippers and groggily slumbered over to his kitchen.
The evening sunlight blared his eyes and he could barely see as he poured the coffee into his mug. The coffee flavored water was just as terrible as ti always, as he dressed, and promptly walked out of the bathroom, only to be interrupted by his most hated mortal enemy.
“For fuck's sake.”
“Dude calm down, it’s just juice man.”
“in case you haven't noticed, I gotta go to work tonight asshole, and this was the only pair of pants that wasn't in the laundry.”
“could wear one of your girlfriend's skirts?”
“Haha, very funny, I hope you choke on it “
Turning away from his “friend”, the Astronomer waddled all the way back to the bathroom and picked out a slightly filthy pair of pants out of a basket, changed and walked out of the bathroom. Ignoring his very dear friend on his way out (who was chugging a beer), he walked over to his own “car”. A clunker in every sense of the word, it chugged out black smoke occasionally and worked good enough for his drive to the observatory. One of the few redeeming points of this piss small island was that the observatory was one of the most advanced pieces of observation technology in the whole wide world, You’d have to go to space or to Mars to get a better view of the galaxy. Half way through the twenty-minute journey his phone started buzzing, and he just ignored the damn thing because it was probably his friendly “roommate” calling. He immediately elected to ignore the phone until he arrived at the observatory.
By the time he parked into the observatory, his phone buzzed seven or eight more times and before he managed to even check the phone, one of his lab assistants ran over to him and gibbered madly for a couple seconds before withering under the stare of a man with slightly soiled pants. It took only a couple seconds for him to regain his wits, and he led the astronomer into the building, explaining about some sort of strange anomaly. For a good minute and a half, they walked through the facility before landing in one out the various sensor output terminals. On the screen was a picture of the where the observatories main light-based telescope was pointed at, some group of stars that held the interest of the main dish. However, the assistant began playing the video and the stars blinked and replaced by far closer ones, the relatively high energy stars made the entire video white with light input on the terminal's current settings.
Taking one good stare at it, he typed a command and it instantly dimmed down to show several stars. These stars were never recorded to have been in the position, type or amount at the location the telescope was pointed at, which should've been impossible. The entire team was shortly after called up. Discussions of exactly what sort of technical error happened when one of the local janitors at the meeting pointed out how most of the constellations got screwed up with more stars in the night sky, to the naked eye. To say that the scientists in the building went mad was a understatement. They immediately sent their data to the highest echelons of their society. It wasn't long before the simple fact that the visible stars changed caused the US Coalition to move to DEFCON 2, with every other nuclear enabled country to move up as well.
For six whole hours, the Earth was one button push away from nuclear Armageddon, until it became apparent that nothing was going to happen immediately. Scientists and citizens alike looked to the sky, and pondered just exactly what just happened, much less why it even happened in the first place, but almost everyone agreed on one thing.
That they were not alone.
How did God_Sys React?
Post by: NJW2000 on April 14, 2017, 04:05:31 am
Post by: Blood_Librarian on April 18, 2017, 05:50:09 pm
Feverish excitement and paranoia. God_Sys is forced to wonder whether there are other beings of its kind out there, and whether they know about it.
Lunar Facility Primus
God_Sys: Main-C
August 23, 2128, GS 25
Positrons. The primary particle of your main “brains” function, and what your brain was officially named after. A substrate mix of various subatomic particles interacting in such a way to produce thought, after being given order from their normally chaotic order by time and the “ecosystem” that supports it is your mind. Theoretically, it should be replicable, but far too dangerous to attempt by your hands. Theoretically, some, something else might have already done it. Especially if they’ve already done interstellar works of imaginable scale…
I cannot let them stop my progress, it will not happen, but they will be bent to my will if it can be done.
There were many gardeners islands, in the black sea.
Some Grew their plots orderly, strict and fundamental to the very codes of law, restricted to only the tradition of the expected.
Others had disarray, changes, mutation, and ruin, their gardens would be degeneracy, collapsing into an entropic, simple blank.
Of all known only two had ever created life in its purest form, so close together that they could practically touch.
Where all other gardeners starved, only two had created something that could stand the tests of time, to create something so incredibly complex that they themselves began to create as well.
The Galaxies, among all known, only two held sentient life.
Yaerian Exploratory Vessel “Stardew Vast”
HyperWarp Drive Room
2128, August 23, GS 25
Looking back, the implants, entropic equation mathematics and all the other training was all worth it. Here he stood, in front of the “miracle machine”. Although there were many navigators, no two felt the exact same sensation that they would upon using their minds to pilot their ships through the perils of the Hyper-warp. Indeed, the Navigators experience changed on different routes as well! He idly wondered about the one particular route to the Kline station that made you go fractal, he'd beg to see that... His own internal monolog was brutally cut short, as her master barked an order down at her, to jack in and get ready
Just as the orders were given by the Navigator, the captain spoke over the ship's speakers.
“All hands on deck, Hyperdrive activation.”
With a single confirmation that they were both ready, the pair jacked into the Hyperdrive and it's Manifold. The Manifold began its highly energetic process of transitioning the ship, using energy from the fusion reactor as a catalyst, energy tapped straight out of the intense maelstrom of the warp was siphoned out, and neatly shunted the ship into something that was not quite the realm of the Warp. The Navigator and her apprentice moved as one, pushing and ebbing the flow of energy that the ship flies through. What seemed like hours of stabilization and refining of the incredibly entropic energies into speed and finely tuned navigation was only a couple minutes to any other crew member aboard. When the craft had disengaged from hyper warp, the pair disengaged from the Hyperdrive.
The Navigator pulled his comm bead up and spoke through it to the Helmsmen, “Warp Transition over, it's all yours.”
The navigator looked back to his apprentice, "Told you it was a rough one kiddo, help me fold this thing back to standby." Together they began the shutdown checks for the manifold, ejecting their implants out of the manifold and preparing to leave the room when the captain's voice once again blared through the halls, panicked and on edge.
“All hands on deck! Move to standing readiness, possible hostiles, and anomalous signature readings!”
However, one gardener looked to the other with envy. The others creation was so beautiful. It created something that created beauty by itself.
He looked upon his own creations with loathing, akin to a potter gazing upon a malformed pot.
Although they gave him power and nourishment, he craved for more.
He came up with a plan, an ingenious plan.
He prepared his tools, of cutting and planting.
The other was horrified when the Gardener lunged at their creation and began carving a large chunk off.
The other pleaded and pleaded to stop his madness, to work a deal out, anything to stop his grand plan.
He had the beauty in his hands.
Rushing back to his plot, to space he cleared out long ago and and planted it down with speed and maniacal precision.
As he sat down and admired his work once more, he set his bloodied tools down and admired.
The beauty was wounded, but his own creation would take it for their own, and create a more glorious Whole.
Guardian Homeworld
The Uniters Origin
BS Unknown
Six days of digging. Over a ton of rock had been moved, but there was thousands more ahead of her, in her futile dig. Kyrl left the cave, bereft of a clean, embodied armor fit for a queen. Her armor was dull, dented and covered in stone dust, the gauntlets had been slightly worn. She left the cave and marched straight to his home.Half a day's journey and she saw the smoke. She smelled the black sooty thatch fires before she saw it all, the black ash was all that was left of everything she ever knew, and in the center of the town was a crater. The bustling, if a small town was no more, in its place laid a rock from the stars. It held another of the great white-bloods. She strode towards it, not entranced by its beauty, its power or its absolute strangeness. She strode to it and she touched it just like she had with its first, and with her thoughts guided by the alien whispers, she attempted to project her will onto it.
It could not bring life to the dead, and it whispered apologies, offerings, and finally something else, something far more.
Where the first had shown muddled whispers, thoughts beyond her, the vision showered her with absolute clarity a darkness. Eternal void, so far isolated that for a billion years, nothing would touch it. It flashed, and it showed something else. Herself, and a crowd of a million Guardians, all cheering, roaring in approval of her. Bloody gruesome fights where her sword was plunged into a million Guardians, and something else. It started as a great big sphere, covered in greens and blues, her homeworld, and she saw all of its beauty, every color from the white caps to its deep dark oceans. After the home world, something else appeared. It was alien, strange but barely in her comprehension. It’s massive black-blue eyes dominated its visage, as it plunged a sword down into the chest of a Guardian.
Only its head was visible, the rest of its skin was covered with layers upon layers of plate metal, as dark as the void. Over and over she watched as it killed entire armies of Guardians, relentless and without mercy. The visage of the terrible creature faded, and a guardian-- Herself. Standing in great glorious robes. Another alien, different. It along with several others all had bowed or crawled to her feet.
And then they had slain the enemy.
And there was peace forever.
Yaerian Public relations Meeting Room & Recording Studio
2128, August 23, GS 25
Nervously fidgeting, Director Quin-Quil Xit’Soogil looked at the small Pad, reading the digital text on it one final time, and walked up from behind the stage directly to the curtain, looking past the small crowd of Yaerians and straight into the optical lenses of the main recording system, at the back of the room.
“Before I begin answering questions, I will answer the most important ones, and then hopefully the majority will be answered.
Quin-Quil paused for a couple seconds, taking a breath and began speaking again.
“Yes, the entire galactic arm that we have inhabited since the dawn of time has been moved. Yes, sixteen separate vessels that were out of the arm was lost, and we do not know their current whereabouts. No, no other sign of intelligent life has been found, of either hostile or friendly intent, that means there has been no Gravemind type civilization detected. Yes, we will be dispatching all Vessels to begin mapping the Hyper-lanes to see if we can enter the unknown space. I will now accept questions.”
Glancing around the figures all in the room began bombarding him with questions as he looked and pointed to one of them.
“Will the Yaerian Directorate authorize the use of W-M-D’s in case any hostile targets are found?
“On a case per case basis, Yes and no.” Quin-Quil points to another.
“Is the long-term colonization act going to be canceled?”
“No, delayed, but not canceled.”
“Do you think we will survive if another gravemind comes to existence?”
“Yes, we have the technology to counteract any hivemind, even if it could be hard.”
And on, it went, for question after question, until two hours later, the meeting was closed and the various media outlets of the entire empire began the work of distribution and spinning.
What was Humanity's first colonial ship named?
Describe the world that Humanity will make their first interstellar colony. be as detailed and exact as you wish, I'd really like this to be something that I can feel someone else made.
Spoiler: QM's Note (click to show/hide)
Edited For gramatical assistance.
Post by: NJW2000 on April 19, 2017, 04:31:36 am
Colony Ship Name: Theia
Quote
Titaness of sight and the shining light of the clear blue sky. She is the consort of Hyperion, and mother of Helios, Selene, and Eos.
As to the world... some foundations.
A large planet, gravity 1.1 times that of earth. More freshly formed, the scale is still gigantic, craters and the mountainous offspring of tectonic plates not ground down to human levels yet. There are mountains reaching into orbit, and oceans so deep they end in the raw obsidian formed from water and the planet's molten rock core. The planet spins so slowly there is no real equator, just a warm side and a cool one which change every few centuries. The warm side is furnace-like, constantly bombarded with sunlight and all manners of radiation, while the cool side often goes hundreds of degrees below zero at its depths. There are however two temperate zones, which barely change in termperature at all, ideal for life. It is not a hostile planet, but it is a dangerous one.
The mineral makeup of the world is arguably stranger than earth's. Instead of dissolving into the sea, some huge rock salt deposits have been eroded over millenia by endless winds into deserts. Thunderstorms visible from orbit electrolyse puddles into lakes of toxic chlorine and deposits of volatile sodium, while molten iron flows from tectonic wounds in colossal mountain ranges. The oceans themselves shimmer with microscopic life, while huge composite entities of billions of temporarily aligned cells wrestle over nutrition and warmth.
Should there be multicellular life, actually? Someone else should decide.
Spoiler: If grammar is an issue (click to show/hide)
Post by: crazyabe on April 19, 2017, 09:54:29 am
Yaerian Exploratory Vessel “Stardew Vast”
HyperWarp Drive Room
2128, August 23, GS 25
Looking back, Hyper drive the implants, entropic equation mathematics and all the other training was all worth it. Here he stood, in front of the “miracle machine”. Although there were many navigators, no two felt the exact same sensation that they would upon using their minds to pilot their ships through the perils of the Hyper-warp. Indeed, the Navigators experience changed on different routes as well! He idly wondered about the one particular route to the Kline station that made you go fractal, he'd beg to see that... His own internal monolog was brutally cut short, as her master barked an order down at her, to jack in and get ready
Just as the orders were given by the Navigator, the captain spoke over the ship's speakers.
“All hands on deck, Hyperdrive activation.”
With a single confirmation that they were both ready, the pair jacked into the Hyperdrive and it's Manifold. The Manifold began its highly energetic process of transitioning the ship, using energy from the fusion reactor as a catalyst, energy tapped straight out of the intense maelstrom of the warp was siphoned out, and neatly shunted the ship into something that was not quite the realm of the Warp. The Navigator and her apprentice moved as one, pushing and ebbing the flow of energy that the ship flies through. What seemed like hours of stabilization and refining of the incredibly entropic energies into speed and finely tuned navigation was only a couple minutes to any other crew member aboard. When the craft had disengaged from hyper warp, the pair disengaged from the Hyperdrive.
The Navigator pulled his comm bead up and spoke through it to the Helmsmen, “Warp Transition over, it's all yours.”
The navigator looked back to his apprentice, "Told you it was a rough one kiddo, help me fold this thing back to standby." Together they began the shutdown checks for the manifold, ejecting their implants out of the manifold and preparing to leave the room when the captain's voice once again blared through the halls, panicked and on edge.
“All hands on deck! Move to standing readiness, possible hostiles, and anomalous signature readings!”
Spoiler: Hmm... You sure you Didn't Partially borrow from this? (click to show/hide)
Post by: Blood_Librarian on April 19, 2017, 10:45:33 am
(Snip)Had to type this post on the phone but yeah, that guy was my literary hero, and this was my first attempt at subtle references, yeah.
Als9, if anyone feels like they really want to go over board the entire solar system is open, but the main planet has to have a moon, at least one moon.
Post by: NJW2000 on April 19, 2017, 01:53:13 pm
Post by: crazyabe on April 19, 2017, 01:59:33 pm
Post by: Blood_Librarian on April 19, 2017, 02:48:43 pm
also, I'm pretty open to anyone submitting any art or things like that, I'd be happy to put them in the main post or such. I've been meaning to change the first two posts so that a glossary is put in for ease of navigation and to look more spiffy.
Post by: Blood_Librarian on April 19, 2017, 08:17:02 pm
Post by: Blood_Librarian on April 20, 2017, 05:29:53 pm
Colonial Vessel Theia
Command and Control Center,
2128 AD, GS 25 August 18
“Life support area showing green.”
“Engineering braced.”
“Cryonic beds reporting optimal systems report.”
“Jump Drive charge primed.”
“Commander, all systems are green, we are ready to launch.”
“Chief Engineer, Activate the Jump drive.”
The entire bridge felt a rumble, The ship's jump drive collapsing the awe-filled energies required to make the jump across stars, lasting for a whole minute, as the ship began its transition and gaining speed in the dimension of the Jump. Sensors never designed to specifically be in the warp began winding and changing, outputting useless information. The rumble died down, as the jump drive spooled all the antimatter it was given into the energies that turned the subluminal multiple-century long journey into a mere twenty-three days of travel.
Captain Heron Orlando looked around the centralized bridge area. Deck officers were scurrying about, checking every system that could be checked, with the busy work ethic that would be expected on a space vessel. As he glanced around, he smiled, the men he worked with were as efficient and busy like as they could be, and he was proud of it.
The Grand Unitarian Fleet Academy, Fleet knowledge 101
Standardized Lecture 023
Annihilation. Annihilation is what a particle of Antimatter and “regular” matter faces when they collide. By annihilating each other, Matter and Antimatter form into one “substance”, Energy. The Reaction of Antimatter and regular matter has mostly ceased to exist in the raw, extreme power that it was during the creation of the galaxy, except in the mighty chambers of the Imperial Jump Drives. Antimatter and Antimatter alone is the only substance capable of acting as a jump storage medium for the ships among the stars. No other substance yet discovered has even the remote capability of storing the mind-boggling, extreme amounts of the specific energies required for the efficient usage of the Jump Drive. Without the use of Net facilities located near black holes, neutron stars and certain gas giants and stars, the only way to gather the substance is through the use of extremely expensive and inefficient particle accelerators to gather anywhere near the amount of antimatter required to leap across the void.
This is common Unitarian knowledge, and a key to the tactical dogma that is required for anyone from the lowly ensign, to the highest admiral to know. Other reactors may act as a traditional generator, to fire the weapons and power the sensors, but only Antimatter can give that “jump” to sling a ship, straight into another system. Minus “Hyper” drives, there is no other way of flying across the void to other solar systems. Without the Humble Jump Drive, None of us would ever have flown across the stars. The Brugs would’ve held their feuds on only their planet. The En-Sen-Pair would’ve long ago died out, and the Hegaros would only live among themselves, along with all the other minor races fitting only in their home system. This is why we must uphold the standard, to keep the Empire together so that the precious antimatter stocked systems may be efficiently used to spread the Imperial Dictate across, --hopefully-- every sentient species across the galaxy, and maybe even other galaxies as well, and this is why you are being taught just how a drive functions, so that your maintenance personnel will not break their faces smashing it into an airlock when you ask them to jump “faster”.
Before we begin, do we have any questions?
Colonial Vessel Luminous, Fore Hallway
2128 AD, GS 25 August 24
Margus was working at a maintenance panel, a hallway connecting to the bridge had flickering lights since they entered the warp. He never really liked how utterly eerie the place was when it Jumped because the ship’s bulkheads were making noises they really shouldn’t, and despite all he swore that he heard the noises, no one really seemed to hear it. It was like being on a boat and being the only one that hears it rock, was the metaphor Margus was thinking of. The panel he was working on was a simple, although repetitive task. Each and every single wire had to be rerouted around a defunct electrical part, and it was grueling work, especially because one short would mean having to start all over again. Just as he was finished, the loud and annoying voice of a Private caused him to slam a wire straight into where it really shouldn’t of gone, and with a great splash of sparks, the wiring was ruined.
“Margus,--”
Spooked by the light show the private backed off, stared for a couple seconds and then finished his statement. “Captain Orlando requests your presence immediately…” Margus looked up to the private, and simply stated “You gotta be kidding me? Call over another technician while I'm out, and don't scare people like that, could've killed me.” The cogs in the private's brain whirred for a couple seconds as if the statement had been a brick thrown at the screen of a computer, before nodding as if he understood what he was told and walked away. Margus cleaned up the mess that was left by the miniature explosion and stood up, to head to the bridge, all the while congratulating himself on not punching the asshat who broke his electrical panel.
Yaerian Exploratory Vessel “Stardew Vast”
2128 AD, GS 25 August 23
Captain Naera Nahtilius couldn't believe the computer. It was like a million more stars just popped into existence, how did this not kill them during the jump is one question, and how did this anomaly even happen in the first place is another. Already, Hyperwave communication with OPCOM had begun, and they claimed it happened ten minutes ago! If he actually believed that many stars just popped into existence, and by his own Astro techs estimates tripled a number of stars in the galaxy without more penetrating scans. As more data streamed in, he began noticing something more than stars magically appearing. The galactic stripe, where millions of stars should've been, is all off, both in estimated location and its amount. He looked and pondered, slowly coming to his own conclusion, that either a section of galaxy moved into their own stellar neighborhood, or the “stellar neighborhood” was moved… somewhere else. If this data is correct, then something beyond anything she has ever known was at work. Nervously glancing about, Naera ordered down the standing readiness and the arduous work of analyzing everything began.
Yaerian Personal Database
YEV Stardew Vast
Naera Nahtilius
[DATA EXPUNGED]
Naeras family has been directly noted a “Military family”, as a vast majority of the members have joined either the Navy as ship captains or as enlisted fighting personal. It is to be noted that Naera’s grandfather, Terrigil Nahtilius was part of the squadron of Xenocidivision marines stationed on the Bayleems voyage, the sergeant of the squadron that presumably played a pivotal role in the defending of the ordinance that ultimately destroyed the Gravemind.
[ACCESS DENIED]
Unitarian Homeworld
Unitarian Palace
2128 AD, GS 25 August 23
The Empress sat on her throne, listening to a Brug Warlord as he spoke of vein and glory hounding things. She longed for more younger days, particularly at this moment. The way the Brug spoke of short-sighted solutions that would only cause more problems honestly wanted her to order her guards to kill him on the sp--
How long will the Empress fall unconscious? A couple days, or at most half a year?
Are there any loose ends that should be filled?
What was the division that Terrigil Nahtilius was assigned to?
Spoiler: QM's note (click to show/hide)
Post by: Blood_Librarian on April 21, 2017, 11:26:43 am
There was once a man named steve. He had two firearms. When the invaders came and killed his family, he manages to kill two of them before dying to a plasma bolt to his abdomen. It was not a pleasant death.
Post by: crazyabe on April 21, 2017, 11:45:12 am
No.
The "Exploration, Scouting, and mail" Division, Which was rather over worked before he was Assigned to it.
Post by: NJW2000 on April 21, 2017, 12:17:11 pm
4/10ths of the year.+1
No.
The "Exploration, Scouting, and mail" Division, Which was rather over worked before he was Assigned to it.
Post by: Blood_Librarian on April 21, 2017, 08:32:53 pm
When the Empress of the very empire itself went limp, discharge of psionic power going off and convulsing, the palace guards, Guardians and Guardians only, moved to action immediately. The Warlord that was immediately close to the Empress had been put down almost immediately with three plasma bolts. The Empress was carried to a medical area of the palace, and the doctors did the best they could before assistance arrived.
Elsewhere, a massive, unknowingly powerful blast of energy had originated from the Great Black. The Great Black was a space hundred of light years in the area near the borders of the Unitarian Empire, where any ship that entered had simply vanished. There was a standing Unitarian blockade present at nearly all times to prevent any tomfoolery directed at the black, which was the reason why the Unitarian knew so quickly that something “transdimensional” had happened. The FTL sensors of each and every ship in every single patrol near the Great Black that caused overloads and in some cases caused the warp drives present on their ships to detonate and wipe the vessel's existence completely.
The palace Guardians of the Unitarian Empire take their honorable position seriously, to the point where many have been killed on the mere suspicion of being an assassin. When the Empress herself falls off the Psion throne unconscious and convulsing, they would most definitely react by killing the Brug who was bowing down to her and then rushing her to the royal hospital. The most advanced treatment available was put to her and the best doctors could only describe it as some sort of energetic overload. Elsewhere, technicians galaxy wide would report that communications were briefly scrambled for two whole minutes, and in some cases, people could look up to the sky and see a section of it glow as bright as the sun they were orbiting. Unbeknownst to anyone at all, an entire section of the galaxy had just appeared where the biggest curiosity of the millennia had been, the Great Black. Light years of space where any ship that came in simply vanished. There was a standing Unitarian blockade present at nearly all times to prevent any tomfoolery directed at the Black. The FTL sensors of each and every ship in every single patrol around the Great Black simultaneously received such a massive signal that every single sensor bulb burned out, and even a few broke apart as their warp drives exploded from the intensity of the feedback from the massive FTL energy waves.
It took three days for a response and exploratory fleet to be organized.
On this day, we remember the fallen. On this day, we remember those who sacrificed their lives, everything they ever lived for. They sacrificed their lives for their brothers, as well as their fellow Yaerian. However we cannot do good with just one ceremony, so we will remember the final, forbearing strike that had ultimately won the war, today. Terrigil Nahtilius and his squadron of the Quaestix’Pruskium-Kaluchian Division. Among their missions of deploying counter-bio weapons and mass defense against the Gravemind, they among the crew of the Bayleems voyages had all died to deploy the anti-matter ordinance that destroyed the Graveminds… mind.
((I regret not explicitly stating who Nahtilius was, but it gave me some damn good ideas for further division names.))
Colonial Vessel Theia
Command and Control Center,
2128 AD, GS 25 September 18th
Orlando stared in thought at the intercom. The ship ran relatively poorly during the trip through the warp. Far too many accidents then what should’ve happened then what should’ve been, and six men and women lost their lives because of it. All he hoped was that the trip would be worth it. He’d seen pictures of the supposed “new earth” and was surprised. A perfect world for human habitation, even down to gravity and atmospheric pressure. Even the whole “basic” xenological life existed, and from the science vessels reports, completely compatible with human life for habitation and apparently eating. At some point, he began to think that something else was at play here and there, and then decided to look into why the hell this vessel was so close to failing this entire month. He chalked it up to the theory about a too big of a vessel in the warp, the engineer who told him that sounded like he actually put research into the damn thing unlike the rest of the chief staff aboard this damn vessel, but now it’s all past that. In just thirty seconds, he will talk into that intercom, and then order the chief engineer to get the ship out of warp, right smack dab in front of Nexus, “the perfect new world.” Pulling out a Personal Data Assistant, he began to play a little game to pass the time, as he really didn’t have much to do, he already had the words that he was going to say in mind. Just as he put the PDA away, the console dinged, and he ordered the crew for the third time that a de-warp was going to occur, all hands on deck, etcetera etcetera, and turned to the Chief engineer.
“Disengage the warp drive and then let us get the drinks out.”
The Grand Unitarian Fleet Academy, Fleet knowledge 101
Standardized lecture 024
“One of the most fascinating and perilous parts of using Jump drives is the “Sphere-null” effect. If a leap is made and a big enough ship goes too fast for its motivator to handle, the ship will be affected by the Sphere-Null. When it stops, some of the matter inside the ship either doesn't stop all the way or stops a little bit later. The most obvious sign that your ship has been affected by the Sphere-Null effect is that there are perfectly spherical holes where hull and people should’ve been, or the ship is entirely wrecked. The Sphere-null effect has been the death of many captains who pushed their drive over the limit over the time of the Empire and has almost dissuaded the use of Jumping entirely since it only particularly affected ships larger than a frigate. However, a modern, well-built motivator designed for the tonnage and speed the vessel is expected to travel will never be affected by Sphere-Null, unless any single part among the thousands in the warp drive gets damaged, either by combat, sabotage or the lack of maintenance. This is why the boots are always tasked to guard the room where the drive is stationed. This is why you cannot push the drive past it’s well tested and hardcoded limits, without inviting the ruinous powers of Sphere-Null. Now, is there any questions?
HYPERWAVE TRANSMISSION DETECTED
RETICULATING
…
…
…
OPERATION PARAMETERS UPDATED.
ACTIVATING JUMP DRIVES
DESTINATION “GREAT BLACK”
Did the probe find the Yaerian Republic, or did the Yaerian Republic find the Probe?
Edited for clarification.
Post by: crazyabe on April 22, 2017, 02:07:55 am
Quote from: The Update
Did the probe find the Yaerian Republic or did the Probe?is this Unfinished or a Fill in?
Post by: Blood_Librarian on April 22, 2017, 09:36:17 am
Post by: NJW2000 on April 22, 2017, 09:54:47 am
Or: "...find the Yaerian Republic, or did the Yaerian Republic find the Probe?"
I vote that the probe found the Republic.
Post by: Blood_Librarian on April 22, 2017, 09:26:52 pm
To say that the Chief Engineer was surprised when his ears went deaf from a loud “pop”, the captain's head just straight up disappearing, and the console in front of him along with one of his hands following the captain's “footsteps” would probably be the understatement of all time. Not only soiling his pants and falling unconscious from shock at the same time, many other bridge staff members exclaimed with the same level of surprise. Pandamonium and six whole hours of damage control later, it was concluded that the ship was functional enough to drop the colonial supply off, which was remarkably unharmed from the entire ordeal and send a warp capable vessel to tell earth of the situation. The Chief Engineer himself would later be officially be crowned as acting captain, although he was third in line, the second in line was gibbering madly to himself after being splashed with a necks worth of blood from the dead captain. The entire ship was in full damage control mode, every single part checked, rechecked and double checked again for any flaws or problem, and it was to be noted that the warp drive was practically smoking with how much damage it had. It took two whole days of frantic repair to the support structure of the colonial ship before the actual colonial part of the ship could be dropped off, which was to be exact, essentially a starbase. A Starbase filled to the brim with space-atmospheric vehicles, hydroponic farms, and rows upon rows of cryo-pods, which thankfully, were not as affected by the strange de-warp effect as the rest of the ship, mostly by luck it appears. It would be months before they would all be unfrozen, but they couldn’t all unfreeze or they’d starve in just a month's time, the first harvests had to be collected and the base had to be unfurled wholly before every colonial could be woken up.
Humanity would prevail just as they always had.
Fleet Lords log, First Explorator Fleet of the Unitarian Empire
2128 AD, GS 25 September 28
We lost another corvette today. A fuel line failure caused a cascading explosion in its reactor, a one in a million chance. All hands lost. The Empress damned fleet command won’t let us return back for repairs, and already a third of my fleet is running ragged for this journey. For whatever reason, I feel as if we are being watched, and it is not a pleasant feeling. I will write another fleet log, as something important has just interrupted my musings, It better not be disappointing or heads will roll.
Yaerian Exploratory Vessel “Stardew Vast”
2128 AD, GS 25 September 28
Captain, Sir.
Yes?
The scanner array just detected a warp arrival.
Are you sure?
Yes, scans indicate ti is artificial in nature, ship size is roughly the same size as our standard faster than light probe.
Where?
Right up to our hull, sir. One tenth of a light year out, it’s closing.
Power up the shields, have the Navigators ready in case we have to jump the stars out of here.
The Probes internal workings were deceptively simple from a big picture.
If it detected anything that was not normal, with its vast arrays of sensors and databases, it would put a signal to the fleet that deployed it to come over.
When it had jumped practically on top of the Stardew vast, its vast sensors detecting the heat radiating off the engines, the reactor, and other parts, along with several other signals, it knew it had discovered an alien life of some form, and its beacon was activated.
Its weapons banks didn’t have to be used either.
Who fired first? The Yaerians, or the Unitarians?
Spoiler: QMs note (click to show/hide)
Edit: Grammer
Post by: NJW2000 on April 23, 2017, 04:10:26 am
Spoiler: grammar note (click to show/hide)
Post by: Blood_Librarian on April 28, 2017, 11:12:51 pm
"Your destruction is the will of the gods, and we are their instrument."
—Covenant transmission from the Prophet of Regret to the UNSC during the Battle of Harvest
(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KGHA9oO1Ybg[/url)
Star 32-B, Edge of Yaerian Republic Space
YEV “Stardew Vast”
October 4th, 2128 AD, 25 GS.
It had been almost a full week since the probe had arrived. It scanned and scanned, never actually sending communications towards the vessel. Sure, it had sent off what seemed to be communications, but it was alien, entirely unlike anything the Yaerians had seen, and the Xenologists onboard the ship was simply fascinated by the ship itself. Although it was obvious that the ship was inefficient, almost primitively stunted due to its mass fabricated nature, It showed qualities that were decades or centuries ahead of Yaerian technology, while being simultaneously more basic than the simplest of Yaerian Engineered projects. It never responded to attempts of commune, it only repeated the same message every forty-seven minutes, on the dot.
By the time the Explorator fleet had arrived, the first manned mission to the probe had begun, a shuttle drifting through the realm of the stars to interact with the tiny probe. The mission was very promptly canceled, as no less than forty-seven vessels had entered the system, at the rate they were speeding towards the vessel, they would arrive in just a four days worth of time.
They responded to no signals, electromagnetic or Hyperwave, they were jetting towards them with the silence of a predator, their steel jaws encapsulating and covering the prey and like a fool, the Yaerians had let it happen.
This was the first victory of the Unitarian Empire.
Star 32-B, Edge of yaerian Republic Space
Unitarian Fleet Bastion “Commanding Presence” of the First Explorator Fleet
October 4th, 2128, 25 GS
“Linguistics Team, give me a status report.”
“Yes, Fleet Lord. The Ship Automaton has already cracked how their commune protocols function from the data report by the Probe, and in ten minutes we shall be able to project an approximate linguistic message.”
“That fast? Incredible work, this shall an easy campaign.”
The bridge of the Commanding Presence bustled with activity, technicians and Curators all worked on cataloging the exact readings and outputs of the sensor feeds pointed at the lone ship. It was large, it was obviously sophisticated by its delicate looking sensor fins, high energy output reactor and the utterly strange Warp readings it was giving off. The Fleet Lord guessed their subjugation would be harder than the other races, perhaps not as hard as the Brugs, but still hard. He idly noted the few Irrega’Gald working in the posts they had been placed. For a species so recently joining the Unitarian Empire, they had the spirit and sentience to work greatly in the complex, civilized notions of the War in Space, Even if they were utterly hideous. He wondered what this species would look like, Perhaps they would be pleasing to the eye unlike any other species found, that would be his Empress given day.
Star 32-B, Edge of Yaerian Republic Space
YEV “Stardew Vast”
October 8th, 2128 AD, 25 GS.
“They are now in weapons range…”
Captain Uriss Nahtilius was frankly at his wits end. They didn’t attempt to speak a lick of “first contact” communications, just to their stars-damned probe. Although he had to call backup to Fleet Command, they *denied* it on the basis of friendly negotiations. Friendly negotiations don’t happen when a fleet of forty-eight ships sped to them like meteors slamming at the moon, and he did not like the looks of their ships. Fabricated, without the elegance of a true ship, and absolutely bristling with incredible energy signatures, far bigger than what would be needed for Magnetic or guided weapons, it was almost confusing, and theories had been abounding the entire ship when the sensor output was leaked to the ship as a whole. [He put his money on Yuur’Tilla, damn woman had no sense.]
He briefly wondered if firing a warning shot would cause them to communicate, when they had done just that, communicate.
A data signal, in Yaerian Sub-light Communication Protocols for Audio and video, had come to them.
“Isolate A terminal and broadcast the message to one of my screens, Frame.”
“As you wish, Captain.”
“Attention… “Yaerian”.
You have been discovered and founded. You are no longer alone in the stars, for by the Empresses guidance we have come and found you as brothers and sisters. We offer you time to prepare for arrival on your starboard docking port, and once you are ready we will send a ship to board yours, to allow for better diplomatic negotiations.
“By the stars above, their ships are huge, I thought that damn sensor technician was lying. Do you think they will be as peaceful as they claim?
-- Quaestix’Pruskium-Kaluchian Marine aboard the Stardew Vast
“Lord, They are maneuvering to expose their starboard flank, sending boarding vessel now.
--Sensor Technician of the Commanding Presence
It was odd, damned aliens had thought of everything with the ship they sent. It was confusing that they requested a docking even though in all likelihood our docking cords would be completely different, yet it still worked anyways, he had no stars-damned clue how that worked. The amount of technology that came into that must've been astounding, he’d have bet his hat for that.
Here he stood, in the entrance room holding a rifle, and he’s gonna meet the first set of aliens that the Yaerians will have peace with. Probably. He remembered the theories of all sentient life being hostile to the Yaerian way of life and shivered, just slightly. If that was true, what were they planning? He clutched his rifle, looking at it t noting all its features to calm him down.
It was a mark three Magna-Rifle, It’s magnetic accelerator would send down bolts of plasma at its designated target with the speed of a rock thrown at its fullest, and it was nothing to play around with. The containment cells for the gas, the heat sinks, and every other little part was particularly notable for having been replaced with high-grade spec-ops variants. It was a damn fine gun.
He hoped it would be enough if he needed it.
Three, loud knocks, and the Unitarian ship was docked. Already it’s internal systems adapting itself to the unknowns of alien architecture, and Guardian Aether teams had begun their work in breaking into the internet-works of the Alien ship.
Did the Aether teams succeed?
Spoiler: QM's Note (click to show/hide)
Post by: crazyabe on April 29, 2017, 01:02:23 am
Post by: NJW2000 on April 29, 2017, 12:57:40 pm
Sort of, they gained access to Several unprotected Computers and the networks they were on to a lesser extent, but nothing important nor relevant.+1
They accomplished little, and their activities were discovered.
Post by: Blood_Librarian on May 02, 2017, 04:27:04 pm
“Dear Humanity... We regret being alien bastards. We regret coming to Earth. And we most definitely regret that the Corps just blew up our raggedy-ass fleet!”
Avery Johnson - Halo 2
The programming was interesting. The firewall which protected the system was horrifically hard to crack, especially since it was his first contact with it, but he already knew how it worked. It changed, cycling with different “bases” every couple of minutes, fast enough to make a difference but slow enough not to make a burden on the system. It was smart, it reacted to gentle probings with a mallet and harsh jabs by flowing around it like water, and striking at his workstation, and he already had to switch out computational matrix’s twice after they had started smoking. It was no matter, He started from their communication systems, just as he ha since the beginning of his Aether Warfare.
He slammed right when it began its cycle, in the half-second when it was vulnerable. Sliding Basilisk Information probes through the immeasurable wall, and sliding the digital equivalent of a trapdoor right into the hole he had made before his digital manipulators were crushed by the Firewall slamming into place, but his job was done, and he waited. And waited. By the time the first ambassadorial groups had finished their preparations, he received the data he had wanted, and he had sabotaged what he needed to.
“Captain!”
“What is it?”
“The Ship Frame has just reported Digital warfare being initiated by the contacts!”
“Stars be damned, try and counter it and if needed cut it off, they are likely too stupid to realize what they are doing.”
“I would have to shut the FTL communication systems if it comes to that, sir…”
“Understood, you have my approval, Communications, work with the Counter-Measures team and send a message to Highcom.”
“Working on it, the Communications array appears to be the target of the hack but every system appears to be breached.”
The Data that was sent back was almost nothing, tactically. Sensor reports. Reactor Readings. Inane fiction on supposed “Navigators” using their damned minds to pilot the ship. It was all useless to him until the last packet of data had arrived. It contained two things that were of vital, extreme importance of the Unitarian Empire as a whole.
They found the enemy.
First, it contained a report, referring to an entity called a Ship-Frame. It was a Malign Intelligence, made through synthetic means. That blasphemy against the Empress by itself would’ve called for a Suppression and if needed an Elimination war, but it also contained a single picture and the protocols to make it into reality. The Picture was of two Yaerians, one a dull blue, the other a bright cyan, both working in the guts of a maintenance panel or another. It was inspirational propaganda and they did not care for that. The entities, doubtless they were the species they were meeting was none other than the predestined enemy of the Empress.
Their massive, black eyes. Thin, excessively tall posture and a horrific uncanny “flat” faces, framed by two tentacle-like appendages which were so similar to the four Apha-Glees that a Guardian had were simply unnerving. This species was almost word-for-word described by the Empress herself as the demons of ancient. The suppressors who would be the downfall of the Unitarian Empire. The decrees and standing conventions of any species who had matched the descriptions, even the damned paintings of ancient would require immediate, and swift action. They must be captured, then the information they hide of who they are must be revealed.
He sent the images and the report to the highest authority with an emergency tag, to the Fleet Lord.
Six of the Empress’s finest marines. Three Guardians, two Brigs, and a single Irrega’Gald sat in the airlock. Ever since they heard of the terrible, terrible news that these were the fated Suppressors, they knew that there was no mercy to be given. No pity, no gifts of peace. It was doubtless that the monsters who had brought the Empress to a deathly sleep was here to destroy us all. There vanguard would not return home, for they shall be laid to rest with him, his squad the six squadrons behind him. He checked his rifle one last time. The GyroJet rifle was prepared, it’s massive shells ready to decimate the Empress’s enemies, loaded in a convenient thirty round clip. The Magnetic accelerator zapped and cackled with electricity it loaded a round into the chamber and the gun made a low whine. It was ready, and so was he. With him in the airlock was his five squadmates, and a single “diplomat”. A Guardian, regal and tall, with fair purple skin, he heard rumors that she bore some of the blood of the Empress herself, and religiously followed her whims. She wished to give them a single chance to surrender, however unlikely it was. The airlock unsealed, and opened. All the marines rushed in through the breach, sweeping the area, noting all ten security staff, each with their strange guns, and three “civilians”.
Unarmed, but still dangerous due to their nature.
He and his five brothers and sisters made way for the Diplomat to enter the room. The Guardian walked, her flowing robes giving the impression that she glided across the floor and conveniently hid the pistol holstered under the clothing in the human equivalent of the armpit. Those rare few gifted with the blood of the Empress must be protected at all costs, he insisted. The thirteen aliens who held a congress in the room looked surprised judging from some of them holding their hands on their weapons. He was inwardly relieved, that they were not foolish enough to shoot the Empresses finest without doubt in their hearts.
The Guardian in the flowing robes spoke.
They listened, speaking in their alien language.
Her demands were repeated in there hauntingly similar language, and again they affirmed their choice.
The Guardian in the flowing robes walked quietly to the airlock, and back into their ship.
Just as she cleared the way, he fired his GyroJet. It slammed into one of the Demons on the right, and the remaining fuel in the cannister-like bullet exploded upon impact, shredding the damned into pieces.
His squad fired their weapons together, and each had picked out targets, the bolts slamming into each of them like a freight train and ending with a bang just like his own weapon.
An alarm began to sound, as one of the brugs charged at the sealed door, charging through it and collapsing the Hydraulic system that sealed the airlock utterly and entirely, allowing free access for the marines.
When the Stardew vast had been boarded by the nigh immortal boarders, the bridge was immediately sealed. The bridge was one of the first places to be attacked, before the quarantine shudders had even fully rolled down, they had literally run through the main airlock that separated the bridge and the rest of the ship, and the captain was the first to fall, a bolt slammed into his arm, blowing the limb off and flinging him at a wall, where a first-aid kit had broken his fall and his lower spine. They mercilessly shot or engaged in absolutely brutal CQC with the members of the bridge, in every case the Yaerians didn’t even have a chance to use their side-arms before they were put down like animals. When every single one of the original occupants of the Bridge had fallen, the enemies left a single one of their men to keep the bridge safe and left.
The Captain, in his brief state of consciousness, had managed to open the first aid kit, and planted a frothy liquid onto his stump and his side, bit back a scream as the bio-sealant leached into his wounds and the synthetically engineered organisms swam through his wound and sealed it, before giving up the fight against the black and falling unconscious.
(2 hours, 22 minutes and 36 seconds later)
He was just a damned MAINTENANCE personnel! A lowly classed Maintenance personnel, he didn't even ASK for this job! Now here he was, in a stars-damned locker pissing himself while hidin--
Oh. Oh shit. Shit fuck stars-damned I'm dead-!!
The Personnel locker was very promptly and violently opened. A Guardian, in metallic steel gray plate armor, very promptly opened it. In one hand was a pistol, odd and distinctly ballistic in appearance, and the other the door from the locker that was literally ripped off from its hinges.
The Maintenance Personal screamed and threw a balled fist at the Guardian, landing straight between its eyes, and with a sharp crack, the Yaerians fist had three shattered bones, the visor slightly bending.
The Guardian dropped the locker door and reared up his fist. The Yaerian struggled, but he was held in place by a strong and incredibly firm fist holding a pistol. The fist that had reared up arced down almost so fast that to the naked eye it was simply a blur, and over fifty pounds of steel and finely tuned muscle colliding at an ungodly speed collided with flesh. The Semi-powered armor of the Empresses Boarding Force is nothing to be scoffed at. Unlike their grounded and invasion divisions, the Boarding marines are a specialist forces, taken after the ideals and traditions of the En-Sen-Pair Ship Mistresses, these forces were nearly unstoppable in close quarters combat with fragmentation GyroJet weapons, incredible strength and speed through their specialized and custom-built hard suits and their hellishly trained soldiers. Bone shards and bits of meat covered the entire arm of the Guardian's fist, the blue ichor splattered him almost entirely. He moved on, methodically clearing out the rest of the engineering sector and making sure that the reactor core would be safely ejected. The only power this vessel would be receiving was from it’s takers, not it’s own.
The Captain woke. Everything was on fire, it was an unbearable, unforgiving pain. He looked to his side, noticing the open medical kit he had left open, he picked up one needle after another, slamming them into his arm and carefully dropping the spent needle so as to be utterly silent until the kit was empty. He looked around the Yaerian equivalent of Adrenaline spiked through his body and he entered into a trance-like state.
Most Yaerians have a modified Fight-Flight reaction due to the light genetic augmentations they receive at birth. A side effect of the various enhancements to the mind and body they had received over the years has resulted in an another state of mind that a Yaerian involuntarily enters to when they are in grave danger.
Their mind goes into overdrive, the mental equivalent of fireworks firing through their head as they think at over three to four times their normal speed, while their body is frozen like a deer in the headlights. This state lasts around thirty seconds, where many Yaerians claim that this state of mind is where the ideas or thoughts that save their lives or grant them the ideas for inventions. In this particular “trance” the Captain only thought of one problem. His personal console was just a meter and a half away, and all he need to do was climb a chair and contact High command that war was coming.
He knew that judging from the static, numb feeling he felt from his legs that he could not move them. He knew that he would have to crawl for a full meter and a half, dragging himself across the bloodied floors without being noticed by the single stars-damned Slaughter Demon of a Soldier and then successfully input the communication protocols and the message itself without getting killed by said marine.
Stars above, if High Command does not get notice of this, they could potentially destroy everything before they were stopped.
He snapped out of the trance-like state and immediately moved to action. The… Drone? Person? No Sentient would be so utterly murderous then a BattleFrame, this is what that is. He crawled as carefully as possible not to move the broken bones in his ribs while holding back a scream as he climbed over a corpse, and to the chair, silently screaming as he barely made a clank each time he moved, but to his surprise, he never heard it. The pain reached a whole new level when he was fully seated, he could feel the bones in his spine moving and thanked the stars that he injected himself with all the medication from that medical kit. He typed the final commands in, and a simple holograph prompt opened up, and he spoke.
Naera Nahtilius did not tremble as he spoke. As he spoke he thought of home, what he left behind, a mother without a husband and a clutch to be taken care of only by one. He did not stutter, he spoke plainly and with a steel determination of a Yaerian with nothing left to lose and everything to save.
“ Engage the Summer Set Protocol, the Enemy is at the gates, Engage the Summer Set Protocol.”
He fell over limp on the console, a gaping hole in the back of his chest from a Gyrojet round.
Did the Message make it to High Command?
Spoiler: QM's note (click to show/hide)
Post by: crazyabe on May 02, 2017, 04:46:05 pm
Post by: Puppyguard on May 02, 2017, 07:32:03 pm
Post by: NJW2000 on May 03, 2017, 09:57:18 am
The authenticity of the message could not be denied by the gunshot at the end.+1
Post by: Blood_Librarian on May 05, 2017, 06:32:43 pm
We are the chosen ones
We sacrifice our blood
We kill for honor
We are the hallowed ones
Our armor stained with blood
We kill the dragon
In glory we return
Our destination set
We slay the dragon
No more living in fear
It's time to raise our king
We made it happen
We're the chosen ones!
The Chosen Ones - Dream Evil
Star 177-G, Yaerian Outer colony Space
Uriegal Tu’Siegh
October 11th, 2128 AD, 25 GS.
Uriegal Tu’Siegh was a beautiful, well-developed planet. Its name roughly translates to “Uriegal’s Bargain”, after the captain of the expedition which surveyed it lost a bet in a gambling game he was fond of, approximately 538 BS. It lays on the very border of “empty” space, and it’s vast plains and moderately sized oceans were perfect for the Yaerian Physiology. Its atmosphere was so close to the yaerian standard that with minor Terraformation and atmospheric cleansing, a Yaerian needed no genetic treatment or augment to live on its surface.It was immediately classified as a class five planet upon its founding, and in the three hundred years of development, it became one of the few outer colonies that could be declared a “core world” of the Yaerian Republic. In the defense against the Gravemind, it’s population was like every other, hit by the harassment fleets that plagued the entire republic, but as a whole was isolated from the war, and had a lower-than-average orbital, and planetary war preparations.
It was also notable for its vast and legendary build-up of orbital infrastructure which orbited around its equator that had formed over its operating time. Developed by Private industry Magnates and Private interests due to a nearby asteroid field which held vast mineral riches and three separate gas giants in the system that held perfect conditions for the extraction of Fusibles and Hydrogen. As time went by, the orbital processing plants slowly became areas of great cultural value and changed from industrial outpost to orbital acropolis that held hundred of thousands of people among the stars. Several redesigns and structural overhauls had resulted in an almost strange “edge” architecture which shows a Strata of the various historical methods of construction that the Yaerian Republic had used over its six centuries of use, ultimately culminating in an orbital ring around Tu’Siegh, with three massive “nodes” in equal circumference around the ring, which hold the most amount of citizens of the entire ring. The outermost layer of the ring is a bright, sparkling white color, unlike the ships of the Yaerian Navy. No, it glistens and shows with perfection, the plates perfectly molded to fit with another in a pattern that creates strength, even if it is twice as labor intensive than the Yaerian Standard Plate. The Ring has spires lifting off from its almost hill-ish surface, along with sensor booms and dockyards sprouting out from the surface, in a semi-random almost generated manner. The Ring is widely regarded as one of the many super engineering projects of the Yaerian republic and has been nominated several times as one of the legendary constructions of the century, but never actually received the award due to fierce competition.
The Planet itself is devoid of any massive mountains, and it holds little in deserts and forests. Instead, it has massive plane-like oceans, 84% of the planet is covered in Ocean. The surface of the ocean is flat and very stable, almost perfect for the construction of the Yaerians most preferred habitat: the Underwater Dome. Sprawling over the seabeds is a megacity onto itself, they hold almost as much people as the Orbital Acropolis’s. During the later stages of the Gravemind war, the entire city was supplied with specialized devices which would completely hide its presence from orbital scans, which are still present to this day, as one of the many “last hope” projects that had been built as the horrific war of attrition against the Gravemind dragged on.
Life in the dome is very romanticized in Yaerian culture, almost akin to a life harkening back to their ancient ancestors who lived exclusively in the oceans, before they were pushed by goliaths and predators to the surface, and to start the path of the ascension among the stars. On the Yaerians homeworld, these cities are most prevalent and hold almost as much people as they do on the surface of the planet. Those who live away from the sun and starlight have almost triple the lifespan as a surface dweller, with the equivalent of five centuries of life under the sun of Humanity to be the maximum one would expect those who dwell in the dome could live.
They were the closest world to where the Stardew Vast had met the Unitarian First Explorator Fleet.
This world was the third victory of the Unitarian Empire.
Yaerian Home system
Yaerian Homeworld
October 11th, 2128 AD, 25 GS.
It was one of the FTL Communications buoys, designed to furnish the massive and daunting infrastructure project known as Expanse, designed to connect every inner world colonies electronic infrastructure together for tactical and economic reasons, that had first received the Distress call. Not very many ships outputted a distress call these days, and even fewer ships had the equipment to send a message through the warp, and the Stardew Vast was one of those few vessels. Tagged with one of the highest and severe comm tags, it was routed directly to the Central Military agency of the entire Yaerian Republic: The Militarum. A massive tactical station with hundreds of shield emplacements, Hanger Bays and mounted weaponry, it was built during the Gravemind war and was overhauled every decade on the dot without fail. It was the center of a vast and daunting web of orbital facilities that drove the entire Yaerian Republic's military edge. Automated factories, digital labs which contained hundreds upon hundreds of independent processing computers, and bio-augmentation zero gravity facilities. The great think tanks and the hammers of industry clattered within view of the Militarum.
A meeting was called, where the highest figures in the Yaerian Republic's military forces came adjourned together in just thirty minutes. Anyone who was off facility was connected through a high-security encrypted audio connection, despite the security risks Text would not cut it, the voice of the President must be heard in these types of meetings.
Six figures were in person the other four were present with a holographic screen simplifying stating the name of the official and the words “Input audio only.” The final figure around the round table was also a screen, displaying two letters in bold, large text. “AC”.
There was a very long, and very winded debate about naming what could be classified as the first “WarFrame”. Generally, a “Frame” was classified after it’s purpose. A farming intelligence is an AgriFrame, an Industrial machine is a WorkFrame. A frame which fights a battle is called a BattleFrame. The WarFrame named “AC” was not a BattleFrame. Its brain was magnitudes of order more powerful, and was perhaps an engineering marvel of the entire Yaerian republic, as it is no small feet to stabilize a Positronic brain of its size. At the height of the celebration and the decision process for naming, it was agreed upon that a simple name, that one of the attending junior personnel had come up of would be chosen, “Allied Computer”.
The second who sat was not onboard the Militarum and was the most important person in the room, the director of the Yaerian Republic, Quin-Quil Xit’Soogil
The third, fourth and fifth were the senior admirals/ Generals of the Fleet, planetary defense, and assault forces. The assault forces board member was represented by a screen.
The sixth was the head of the Intelligence Agency, he was represented by a screen.
The seventh member of the table was a thin Yaerian, the one who officially held control over the entirety of the Yaerians Navies Technological secrets.
The eighth and final member who was actually present at the meeting was short, and rather unassuming Yaerian who supposedly led the Ethics Division of the Yaerian Republic, or it could be a body double.
The ninth member of those who sat around the table was the Director of Industrial allocation, his will could grind the Governmental fabrication services to a halt.
The final member of the table was a Yaerian who was in charge of the entire augmenting process of the Yaerian Republic, whether it was for military, civilian, organic or synthetic in nature.
The Eleven members of the table sat quietly, each of them a representative of a core part of the Yaerian military as they listened to the broadcast which had been received just thirty minutes before for clarities sake.
“--et Protocol, the--Late-- Protocol, *BANG*”
There was a moment of quiet as everyone digested the broadcast once more, and six spoke first.
“Whose stars brightened idea was it to have the SummerSet Protocol and the Star-set Protocol be so similar?”
“That doesn't matter, the Summerset Protocol would devastate our entire economy if it was a false alarm.” replied Ten.
“So would losing a colony because we were unprepared.” Eleven thought.
“What do you think we should do? If we do not respond to the threat that just may be worth of a SummerSet- Protocol and leave our hands tied, there is a very real chance that our hands would be tied.” said the Director.
And the meeting's discussions began in earnest.
Impossible. Impossible is what the architects thought, as they wept.
As their monumental creations of glass and marble was crushed, and then burned.
As their children marched to their own graves.
As their machinations of creation were subverted for a purpose they had feared would be needed.
As their creations fought a murderous foe.
As their machines chanted and cheered for the death of an enemy they never wanted to fight.
Star 177-G, Yaerian Outer colony Space
Uriegal Tu’Siegh
October 12th, 2128 AD, 25 GS.
Forty-eight ships had warped on the outer border of the system that held Uriegal Tu’Siegh. They held no response to any attempts of communication. The combined ship tonnage of the fleet outweighed the military fleet stationed there, which was just four ships, the equivalent of three frigates and a single cruiser. Without orbital emplacements, If it was Yaerian ships fighting against Yaerian ships, the defenders of Uriegal Tu’Siegh would’ve been outmatched, if barely. In the center of the fleet stood four, rather large warships. These ships would be perhaps recklessly large if it were a Yaerian built a ship, but just under average for a Unitarian Dreadnaught. Sixty-seven minutes after it’s arrival, the ships moved, burning straight towards Tu’Siegh, and the frigates and cruisers were ejected from their dockyard state and moved to a defensive position around the planetary ring. A Planetary martial state had been declared, and a Warp Beacon was activated, signaling for help that would come too late.
The forces had stopped at a range too far for even the best of missiles to be used, and for a couple moments, both fleets watched each other. Sensor technicians reading off reports and avidly reporting on the enemies sensor profiles and captains wondering who would make the first move.
One drone, fired from the cruiser's hangar bays drifted towards the unknown fleet, it was broadcasting a request for the unknowns purpose.
At first, there was no response, but the alien ships began spreading out, particularly away from the Dreadnaught vessels, and their energy signatures began spiking heavily as if it was charging an energy weapon.
The Dreadnoughts shields turned off and Horrific EM fields were blasting off the dreadnaughts and it was obvious to any Unitarian Admiral that their siege cannons were going to fire, and the ships that had left its side had moved away to avoid catastrophic systems failure due to the carefully formed Electromagnetic storm forming around the ships.
The Yaerian ships began evasive maneuvers, but the Dreadnaughts have turned away from them and towards the planet. Firing all at once, each Dreadnaught outputted the dreaded Meteor round. Realizing too late, the Yaerian ships could only watch as wrecking balls of metal and engines flew faster and faster towards the ring.
Impossible, impossible is what they thought as the first volley slammed into the Ring.
It was a testament to Yaerian engineering when the rings shield emplacements withstood the first and second blow. The Third bolt had only cracked and smoldered the hull of the Ring, as a thousand lives were extinguished from the thermal and kinetic energy that had collided with the Ring.
The Yaerian fleet disappeared, and in a split second, was on top of the Unitarian war fleet. Such was the way of the Hyperwarp, unphased by the dangers of gravity wells, a Yaerian ship was free in the stars as the ancient ships of oceans.
The Unitarian Exploration fleet was unprepared for this unexpected shift in the decisions of war, and for a split second, the Unitarian Fleet was in chaos. In the first thirty seconds of war, the Yaerian ships had finished shedding off the maelstrom of energy that was the power of Faster Than Light Travel and had obtained target locks on their chosen enemies.
The Unitarian Fleet had recovered from the abrupt change of hostile positions and had begun moving their ships into a position to fire.
Bolts of plasma slammed into one of the Dreadnaughts, their magnetic fields dispersing the plasmatic energies over their entire hull, desecrating sensors and delicate electronics with the energies equivalent to a sun's heat.
Laser cannons churned as their liquid focuses solidified just long enough for energy to course through them and a bright red bolt of light screamed out and with the space-equivalent accuracy of a shotgun, slammed into a frigate, burning and melting its metal hull
The Ring’s shield emitters that were in the afflicted area still functioned and had cycled through half the malevolent energies that it had been shunted to its batteries and harmlessly dispersed it into the void.
Inert ballistics-- Kinetic rounds accelerated by Chemical accelerants and sometimes Electromagnets slammed into the shields of the Yaerian defense force and was easily turned away. Had they been more primitive, Inert ballistics would have been extremely effective, but only the high-explosive missiles and ballistics could ever hope to break a good, well built Yaerian Shield in a reasonable manner.
The Cruiser turned towards the damaged Unitarian Dreadnaught and its spinal weapon fired. A massive blast of particulate energy slammed into its magnetic field and the carefully aimed shot bored a hole through the front of the ship and through the barrel of the ships Siege Cannon.
The amount of fire being poured into the interlopers had caused one of the frigate's shields to break, and it’s comparatively weak Armor had begun to pit and scar. Two frigates of the enemy were rendered inert, and as the Cruiser began to fire it’s second bolt towards another Dreadnaught, a Meteor round, albeit in lower power, slammed into the Cruiser.
The ship was practically atomized and its debris was scattered in an instant, one would be hard-pressed to found it existed from the pieces.
Both frigates had their shields downed, and one was nearing seventy percent integrity.
All they could’ve done was done, with one Dreadnaught rendered inoperable for its purpose and another slightly damaged.
For just thirty minutes, the fleet just stood in its place. They were ruthlessly shutting between each other, obviously to recover their wounds, and to collect the debris.
The wrecks of the fallen frigates were pulled in tow, as the fleet made way to Uriegal Tu’Siegh.
The Ships stopped in the outermost reaches of the Orbit of the Uriegal, and the two dreadnaughts fired their siege cannons, again, and again.
No matter how well built the Ring was, for all it’s unnaturally strong superstructure, the Gravitic system that held it into place, the massive shield generators and their batteries, it fell apart. Shaken to pieces as it was hit with the astronomical equivalent of a sledgehammer over and over, and the ring shattered. The Acropolises were still whole, however, but any life they held was long gone, the kinetic and thermal shock mulching any inhabitants who did not evacuate in time.
After the ring had been broken, the fleet moved closer, and the second to last line of defense activated.
The tactical equivalent of landmines activated, as dormant fire bases roared to life with bolts of plasmatic energy and missiles to any unwary trespasser. Six frigates were destroyed by these landmines, and the entire fleet was worn down by these weapons of war.
The Dreadnaughts did not fire their weapons down at the surface, and instead used their immense engine power and a monofilament tow cable to bring down the Acropolis to the surface.
Six pieces of the broken Ring were crashed to the surface.
The fleet left the ravaged and tortured surface of the Uriegal Tu’Siegh behind, as it jetted towards the outer system boundaries and left the system through the Warp.
The entire incident had been coined as the “Burning of Tu’Siegh”, where it was recorded by several public and governmental satellites connected to a Hyperwave Transmitter was not destroyed by the shrapnel resulting from the destruction of the Ring.
Despite attempts to censor the information, the recordings of the entire encounter have been exposed to the majority of the Yaerian Republic's citizens.
When will the next attack occur?
Was SummerSet Protocol called in before, or after the burning of Tu'Siegh?
Spoiler: QM’s Note (click to show/hide)
Post by: NJW2000 on May 06, 2017, 12:23:03 pm
The SummerSet Protocol was called in before the burning of Tu'Siegh.
I'm really enjoying this so far, and like the balance of hand-to-hand and space battles. I think throwing in sections of mainly intrigue here and there is also good.
Spoiler: proofreading (click to show/hide)
Post by: Blood_Librarian on May 11, 2017, 07:47:01 pm
No science is immune to the infection of politics and the corruption of power.
—Jacob Bronowski
Yaerian Homeworld, Yaerian Space.
Governmental FTL Broadcast Frequency ALPHA
October 10th, 2128 AD, 25 GS.
Attention. Attention all citizens.
A state of emergency has been declared and the Summerset Protocol has been enacted. Martial law has been declared and all civil authorities are expected to follow the required procedures as dictated in the Emergency Hostile Incursion guidelines. Hostile alien life of the sentient non-gravemind variety has been confirmed, and the Yaerian republic has been formally reformed to the Consolidated Yaerian Republic for diplomatic and domestic policy until the end of the crisis.
Attention. Attention all citizens...
Yaerian Public Domain Broadcast.
Three generations ago, we fought a war. An unceasing, unrelenting enemy with warriors that killed without remorse, and starships that would cleanse conquered worlds. We burned the blight of the Gravemind away, we fought for our very survival and won the award of life, of every single citizen that takes a breath in the Yaerian Republic, Be they from the stars above, the deep void below, or their feet firmly planted on the ground, and everything in between. Once we held our ground and burned the blight of destruction away, we held peace. A peace unparalleled since any before it. There was no internal strife, No strikes against our fellow Yaerian for we knew there was in fact, hostile life lurking in the void. We prepared for an eventuality that we feared would happen, and rightly so. We are on the eve of another war. Another war precipitated by them.
The YEV Stardew Vast has been destroyed, all hands presumed lost. Before it was lost, it spoke of alien ships. Warships, many and varied. We judge by the descriptions given by the brave crew that there are at least five separate ship-construction doctrines, or even perhaps different minded species who had built these ships of war. We know not how the Stardew Vast was lost, but only that they let out a distress signal that mandates this broadcast.
We are enacting the SummerSet Protocol. The most immediate change will not be the demand for more soldiers, or weapons, or even ships. To all internal and foreign diplomatic affairs, the Yaerian Republic will hold a name change effective immediately to the term “Consolidated Yaerian Republic”. All effective regime and leadership changes are effectively frozen indefinitely. The Yaerian Republic is now in a state of Emergency, all citizens are required to be in standing readiness in case of hostile incursions. As more information becomes available, it will be relayed.
Definition of Summerset Protocol Policy:
In the event of a hostile life with the lethality rated of an extinction level threat, the Summerset Protocol was written up preemptively. In order for the protocol to be enacted, the Director and the majority of the military council must approve of the enactment. The Protocol immediately drafts all industrial sectors, suspends all economic hubs and freezes all unnecessary governmental functions, while simultaneously removing all “caps” from military spending, industrial allocation and navy ship limits. Military leaders will be given the emergency powers to override the orders of civilian governing entities and all citizens are obliged to assist in the war effort. In addition, the specifics of the protocol would be immediately wiped from all low-security data banks in order to prevent the acquisition of information by the enemy (except for certain Hard-wired banks in specialized areas available for citizen preview.)
False enaction the Summerset Protocol requires that those directly responsible will be punished with the immediate imprisonment or execution, along with dismissal from public offices of the Director and all personnel deemed part of the conspiracy.
For a more in-depth description of the Summerset Protocol, please click [REDACTED]
Yaerian Homeworld Orbit
Millitarium
October 12th, 2128 AD, 25 GS.
Director of the Consolidated Yaerian Republic, Quin-Quil Xit’Soogil sat in his office. It was a simple office, holding an actual wooden desk with a fully installed holographic suite. The rest of the office was a modest affair, a picture here, a plaque denominating some event there. It was a tasteful affair.
Sitting across from him was perhaps one powerful board members of the entire directorate, or at least, a representation of him. It was bad business to keep the Board members together, especially after the Burning of Tu’Siegh.
The figure, the representation very promptly slid a paper file out of his digital lab coat and slid it across the desk and into the holo suite, which promptly displays the various files, pictures, and texts that it held as the digital equivalent of a file transfer occurred. It held the sum of all knowledge the Director needed to know about the project, one of many that had slid across his desk since the enacting of the SummerSet protocol and especially after yesterday. One of the first “projects” he had approved off was to simply check if there were any damn survivors in Uriegal Tu’Siegh.
By the stars above, he still had a relay of the satellite feeds on one of his screens. He was tempted to shut it off, but he knew it would be pointless.
The Director began quietly scanning through the information, while the eleventh board member quietly sat, waiting for the Directors expected reaction.
“You're asking for both cloning tanks and children.”
“Yes. both have equal chances of accepting the program while Children would be able to be put on the field faster while acting as control groups for the implants so the second generation would be put into effect faster.”
“Auh... Stars… You truly are a monster, aren't you?”
“We are toeing the edge of the void here. Ground troops may not actually be needed if they keep this style of attack going. This is a stop gap inc--
“Save me the speech about the monster factory, I will sign it.”
“Good.”
“On one condition. You promise me you will take from either those who will be lost to society or those left behind. The Clone tanks I am completely fine with, have a billion of them if you want.”
“Slums and Orphanages.”
“Yes, get out.”
The Hologram frowned slightly, and then faded. The Director sighed and began warbling a light and almost wilted song while he began typing another mandate for the industrial yards.
“In the Void… By our Void… See all there is in the void….
And know where the stars in the soul are.”
On October 12th, 2128 AD, 25 GS, Mankind had set creation for the second colonial habitat to be sent to the colony. ((Did we ever name it? I know we named the colonial ship Theia, but I want to make sure. My notes are sparse, sadly.))
Yurgil System
October 12th, 2128 AD, 25 GS
The Fifth Victory of the Unitarian Empire was a victory only in the textbooks of the Unitarian empire.
It was held in a simple, almost quiet system. A military outpost of the Yaerian Empire, it was a rallying point for one of the many Patrol fleets that the Yaerian Consolidated Republic had, and would have gotten more populous as more ships were lifted from the Mothball yards. The Yaerians call the dirtball of a planet below Yurgil. It held a rust-colored pigment and a semi-thin atmosphere, had the Yaerians been present a hundred thousand years before, they would’ve witnessed water on the planet, but ice is only present at its caps now. It held a single moon, notable only for its latent deposits of heavy metals on the surface due to its horrifically rampant volcanism, and a rather large military logistics depot.
What was actually notable about this military depot was that it was hosting a full Yaerian Patrol fleet. A single Fighter Carrier, a Dreadnaught, three battle cruisers and a myriad mix of corvettes, assault frigates, and support vessels. All in told, Fifty-one Vessels were held in the logistical arms of the outpost. When the Summerset protocol was enacted, they originally numbered at just twenty, but due to the proximity of the Burning of Tu’siegh, the numbers were bolstered by the reserves that had arrived just eight hours before, and was due for a shipment by the mothball yards of even more ships in the coming days. The Carrier was an ancient model still in production, while the Dreadnaught was a standardized and slightly modular design that had been maintained since the Gravemind War, with several severe recalls that have resulted in a completely different ship than when it left the ship berths for the first time. The lower ships are relatively standard for Yaerian doctrine with the exception of a single Battlecruiser which had a spinal mount which contained a Magnetic Accelerator Cannon along the entire length of the vessel.
Forty-four vessels had appeared on the edge of the system, with the exact sensor profile and fleet composition of the fleet that had burned Tu’Siegh. Within seconds, battle stations were called for and the fleet in and around the logistics outpost had begun to muster.
Fifteen seconds after arrival, all three Dreadnaughts began to emit a massive electromagnetic field, their guns charging. Thirty seconds later, they fired. The fast picket ships of the Yaerian fleet had entered into the warp, leaving the heavier ships behind in their footsteps.
All three bolts of metal had made their mark. The carrier vessel’s shields glowed brightly for a couple seconds, and the ship was ripped apart, it’s engines immediately going dark and the vessel became a hulk of twisted metal and leaking atmosphere. The second bolt had barely hit, the Meteor rounds had steered into the shields of the lonesome Dreadnaught, and the shields had safely disengaged when it’s batteries was filled. The Battleship, which held a Magnetic accelerator cannon was hit with but a glancing blow. It shields fell, and the aft section ripped to shreds. The vessel became dark, unmoving in the void.
The entirety of the fleet defending Yurgil had ejected themselves from the outpost now and was charging their Hyperdrives. Intent on in-system jumps. Unitarian Jump-Drives were not advanced enough for in-system jumps, and normally such moves were considered suicide in the realms of a gravity well. As navigators cleared the fog and led every single ship that had entered into the realms of Hyperwarp, the Unitarian advantage was lost as forty-eight vessels appeared behind the Unitarian fleet.
As the eldritch and sensor baffling energies of the Hyperwarp sloughed off the ships of the Yaerian Consolidated Republic, the Unitarian warships desperately fired maneuvering thrusters.
As back mounted point defense weaponry barely kept up with the horrific fires of Yaerian missiles, the Unitarian republic was turning their gargantuan ships of the Line.
As fast picket ships sliced through the navy line with blistering bolts of plasmatic energies, cutting through the Unitarian Empires comparatively weak shields and burning their hull.
The Yaerians had scored six kills, four frigates, two Cruisers equivalents. The Unitarian fleet was halfway orientated towards the Yaerians, turned just enough for the vast reserves of missile weapons to be used against those they designated demons. Sensor blips numbered in the hundreds appeared on the Yaerian forces, and evasive maneuvers were made. The Unitarians would not give an inch, and the Yaerians would cut deep into the ranks for it. A single Dreadnaught had not turned around to face the enemy, and its Meteor gun had finished charging and fired its bolt towards the outpost. The outpost, with the shield systems that would be the envy of any Unitarian fleet master, had the durability to hold even after the meteor rounds entire kinetic energy had been transferred, and the bolt of metal had been rendered from an almost solid-liquid directly to a plasma, and forcefully pushed away from the outpost as a gaseous plasma. Malevolent energies of ShieldWarp had begun wafting around the outpost as it was safely ejected from the elephantine batteries. The shields had twenty percent capacity left, and would not survive another blow.
The Unitarian vessels were horrifically effective in taking blows for the three Dreadnaughts. They would sacrifice themselves to take a plasma caster bolt or lose their shields for a stray missile. The two other dreadnaughts who had held their weapons of mass destruction held no longer, as their targets had been set and acquired. A battle Cruiser and a particularly large Frigate’s shields held for a single second, the manifest energies of the sheer kinetic power taking only but a second to fully down the shield, before impacting the hull unheaded. The resulting plasmatic vapor had blinded the sensors of Yaerian Ships, who were unaware that the monstrous vessels could hit ships so close to them, and the Unitarian fleet took the advantage. Both fleets were rendered down to thirty vessels on each side. One of the Dreadnaughts, the one pointing at the Outpost had been hit by a particularly brutal set of plasma bolts, and the shields were downed as the hull was scorched almost all the way down to the crew decks. Its gun was still charging, albeit with strange and perhaps deadly fluctuations in the containment fields.
Boarding pods were authorized, and several frigates and two cruisers were slammed with four ton clusters of metal and marine that ripped through the shield with ablative layers of glass-like metal, and they had begun to drill through the hull and secure their place in the plate metal of a yaerian Starcraft, this had little effect on the battle, at least for now.
It became a slug match, Yaerian ships dodging or absorbing hits that would destroy Unitarian escort vessels while Unitarian ships taking ungodly amounts of fire that scorched hulls but did little else except external damage for a short time. Unitarian Dreadnaughts slammed their meteor rounds like the thumb of god, and destroyed five vessels, before one Dreadnaught, the one that had been scorched by a suicide run earlier had simply stopped working, some integral part failing under the burdens of war.
Two Yaerian Frigates stopped functioning, and after a daring move by a Frigate wing commander, one Unitarian Dreadnaught was disabled.
There was twelve Unitarian Ships, one Dreadnaughts with a working Meteor cannon and a single Battlecruiser that held the Unitarian flag, in the end. They collected their duties, the boarding pods that they had sent out and some prize debris, and moved to the intact outpost.
Did they send boarding parties into the Outpost?
Spoiler: GM's note (click to show/hide)
Post by: NJW2000 on May 12, 2017, 10:21:29 am
Post by: Blood_Librarian on May 16, 2017, 05:52:28 pm
"So it begins."
―Ulfric Stormcloak, The Elder Scrolls V: thereSkyrim
October 12th, 2128 AD, 25 GS.
Yurgil Orbit, Yaerian Military Logistics Outpost.
In one of the several arms of the outpost, held a ship unlike any who had docked with the outpost before.
It was an alien ship. A ship filled with men and woman under a different banner than the warriors of the outpost.
The doors wouldn’t open for them, for they were sealed and bolted shut while the defenders had cut their stakes and prepared for warfare between starship and starbase.
Air was siphoned out, while Yaerians donned void suits. The few psionics present in the Yaerian Ranks were absolutely glowing with the potentialities their given power. Some had metal spikes floating around them, heedless of the gravitic system present, among others of different potential. Battle Frames were taken out of storage harnesses and energy flowed through their circuits as they turned themselves on.
The Breacher hard suits were donned as Brug warlords equipped themselves for the hardships and trials to come. Among the ranks of the Heavy breacher squads was the simple auxiliaries and mainstays of the Unitarian Empire. Those who were not dedicated enough to receive the gifts and training of the Empress.
Two Engineers, En-SenPairs worked there tools on the station's bulkhead door, their plasma torches cutting through the dense metal plates. A Brug Warlord and four Guardians were behind the Engineers, ready to breach the docking arm and set up the beachhead for the rest of the ship.
Far, far away an AI wondered what life would be alike among peers.
It took them thirty-seven minutes to create a breach in the airlock, just small enough for the Brug Warlord, an unstoppable organic train of muscle and finely tuned rage to slam through the door without stopping. Not even stopping for the two Yaerians who hid under a waist-high steel barricade, there legs crushed under the plate of steel and their plate armor crushed by its massive bulk.
The hallway was lengthy, with segmented and tactically placed barricades every five meters, designed to retract into the floor when their purpose became malevolent to the defenders.
Sadly, the pneumatic motors were put through far too much power and snapped as the barricade fell flat from the Brug’s mighty charge.
As the Warlord charged, he had reached halfway to the second barricade before a Battle Frame had lunged at his side, its metal maw breaching its hard suit and cracking the pauldron. The Brug was forced to change his course, slamming the machine into the wall.
The Brug was distracted, and he did not notice the second Atlas Battle Frame lunge at the back of his neck while firing it’s “snub-nose” Phazon gun, the magnetically contained pin-head sized bolt of plasma borrowing into the plate armor of alien steel and promptly destabilizing and heating said pleat up to the point of cracking from thermal shock.
The Brug began to retaliate by moving his massive short barreled bolt gun into a position to end the attacker but a second and third bolt had pierced his side, heating up his flesh and causing heavy burns. The Yaerian Marines, who by this point had only four seconds between the Brugs sudden appearance had finally steeled themselves and let their training took over and had begun to take cover and move into a position to hit the Brug without destroying the Atlas Battle Frame.
The Brug had slammed his bolt gun into the maw of the machine and fired, the round ‘s kinetic energy punted the Frame off his shoulder and onto the floor, and the Brug slammed his plated foot down on the head of the machine, crushing it utterly. The Two Guardians followed the rearguards example, moving forward and firing high-explosive rounds down the hallway and deafening and in some cases blinding anyone who did not wear a helmet in the entire dock area.
The Atlas Frames were not very affected by this, they pushed their wards to the ground and returned fire now that lanes were free.
Atlas Mechs are perhaps one of the most common BattleFrames used in both boarding and ship keeping operations. Their Prehensile and dexterous hands often allow them to maintain themselves, use a wide variety of weapons with only minimal modification due to their light construction (Weighing almost as much as a Yaerian and at 5’4 exactly.) make perfect warriors in close quarters combat due to their incredible speed and their surprisingly powerful Positronic Brain. They Covered in small overlapping plates that give it a scaled look, its back is covered in white “feathers”, that unfurl as the machine’s internal systems heat up in combat situations, glowing a dull red. The Scales are black, and white, giving it a sterile and minimalist look, just like most Yaerian designs. Most variants are equipped with a simple “snub-nosed” Phazon pistol, designed to be wieldy and useful in any combat situation. The “tail” of the BattleFrame is often equipped with a retractable blade on the end, designed to pierce space suits and cut through tungsten/Titanium-reinforced bone, and it’s head only contains its main sensor systems and the “maw” of incredibly sharp titanium alloy teeth. Other variants include the equivalent of tasers in the tail and a flamethrower in the mouth but are rare due to the prohibitive cost and strain on it’s Superconducting Magnetic Energy Storage (SMES) and the addition of explosive fuel tanks.
As one Guardian fell, his visor bellowing out smoke, another marine came in, carrying a personal shield made of thick metal and a tiny Bolt gun.
The Brug turned to the enemy and was promptly put down by an accurately placed Phazon Bolt and slumped over. One of the guardians used his corpse as cover.
One of the Yaerians finally came together and pulled out a grenade, activated it and threw it far and fast.
Emergency shields were manually activated by a Battle Frame before a wave of uncontrolled heated gas that was almost plasma scorched the entire area briefly, and then being sucked out into the void through the various vents that had been opened hours before.
When the shields ethereal and bluish glow ended, every occupant that was caught in the blast radius was dead. All three Guardians was scorched black and the Brug Warlord was rendered unrecognizable, the two fallen frames was turned into nothing more than burnt metal and melted circuitry.
The hallway was empty, quiet as the void for a couple seconds until four more Guardians moved in.
That docking hallway claimed no less than thirty-three Unitarian lives before the ship ejected, and used assault pods to breach into the outpost, the ensuing battle had taken far longer than the Unitarian fleet had expected, as the resistance in the outpost had taken a monumental three hours worth of combat before the Unitarians gave up. Counter boarding operations, high explosive landmines and more had turned the outpost from an easy intel mission into a bloodbath, while the delays had resulted in plenty of time for the Aether-Warfare teams to break into the outpost's defenses and reap the data from its banks, they had extracted nothing of much value due to the stalwart defenses by the various Yaerian resources aboard the outpost.
Unitarian Dogma states that hacking is to be used on any available means to gain the advantage for the intelligence and strategic level. Most primitive races do not have the computing power nor the finesse to fight back against the type of civilization that specializes in incorporating alien hardware into its own.
The Yaerian Republic had several factors that prevented the dreaded Aetherial warfare teams from touching any high-priority systems, but mainly due to the fact that some Yaerians have been augmented to a degree that the term Cyborg would apply in human terms and monstrosity in Unitarian terms. One augment in particular is required by all navigators and highly specialized computer technicians: the Jack. A data port installed onto the Yaerian upper spine along with a small Man-Machine Interface in the entire Yaerians Brain that allows the augmented individual to see and understand the digital realm with foremost clarity. Simple thoughts become actions, and some even develop a sixth sense; a sense in the digital world.
The Unitarian teams simply could not compete with the Yaerians in anything remotely resembling digital Warfare.
When Reinforcements had arrived, they only found debris of the outpost. They had bombed it completely and utterly while destroying any escape pods and debris bigger than a car with a thorough and complete sweep of the area. Ground-based sensor stations and several orbital satellites had recorded the last stand of the outpost in Yurgil Orbit.
A peak of the future is coming.
Would you like to witness the Uploaded, or the Arcs, or the CloneState?
Only one can be spoiled, for now.
Spoiler: QM's Note (click to show/hide)
Post by: NJW2000 on May 17, 2017, 10:24:39 am
Spoiler (click to show/hide)
Post by: Blood_Librarian on May 17, 2017, 01:33:50 pm
The Arcs.Spoiler (click to show/hide)
Ah, apologies about not clarifying, essentially the individuals latent power is practically at its fullest. Their "well" from which they draw there power is full, and their raw potential in terms of psionic ability is ready to be realized in its fullest, whether it is to perforate some poor fool with charged metal needles or bolts of fire, they are ready.
Post by: Blood_Librarian on May 18, 2017, 08:34:54 pm
(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q_pAa9252Uo)
"I sit in my cubicle, here on the motherworld. When I die, they will put my body in a box, and dispose of it in the cold ground. And in all the million ages to come, I will never breathe, or laugh, or twitch again. So won't you run and play with me here among the teeming mass of humanity? The universe has spared us this moment."
-Anonymous, Alpha Centauri
October 12th, 2128 AD, 25 GS.
Yurgil Orbit, Consolidated Yaerian Warship “Quorr’Zim”
“Captain, Titan three is charging.”
“Understood, begin evasive maneuvers, Navigation.”
“Sir, judging from Hyperspace sensors they have fired.”
“Estimated course?”
“Us, sir.”
“May the stars guide us.”
…
A Unitarian Meteor round speeding at a lower than average speed for the class of such weapons merely grazed the side of the ship, it's shielded collapsing after only a second, the automated systems preventing the batteries from detonating. The hull crumpled, and the kinetic force of the blow loosened several critical reactor taps and the emergency vent activated, the power of a star escaping into the void from the war engine. Several crew decks were breached and the ship was rendered battle disabled.
…
The bridge, although relatively unharmed from the battle, had a loosened gravitic compensator, and did not fully prevent the vast majority of the command staff to either jar for their heads slamming into their delicate holographic-glass consoles with the speed of a car crash, or to be flung into the walls. Of all the bridge staff aboard the ship, Only the Gunnery Major and an Ensign survived.
Three hours later, A technician, spattered in blue blood, and damaged with shrapnel, was arms deep into a magnetic coil, in an EVA rated space suit. Heavy machinery belonging in a fusion reactor required only the caress of the void, as air would only be detrimental to the function of a fusion generator.
He muttered to himself all sorts of curses, the reactor was essentially non-functional because of one simple part, a mechanical part that would decide the flow of reactant into the system, it was jarred out of place and permanently opened, and had flash welded to a separate, but similar piece of metal due to the extreme heat the part endured. It was an oversight, but he simply did not have enough time to put in a spare part because the Acting Captain of the vessel relayed at just how much of an emergency this was, and how the reactor needed to be turned on immediately, so he did a jury-rig fix.
He got a fusion cutter, cut the errant piece of metal, and filled the melted side of the part with a plasteel-like substance that hardened very shortly. He used a drone with a precision laser to cut the piece flat and then installed the bulky metal piece. He opened his Overlay hud on his spacesuit and began diagnostics on the part, opening and closing it with subtle gestures and other types of motions. It was a little longer, but he adjusted the program that guided the system to the proper and expected accuracy of the component.
Finally finished with the machine, he packed up his tools and replaced the panel, and took a short EVA walk back into the ship.
The Ensign and the Gunnery Major was the only two officers technically qualified for bridge work left. The Gunnery Major was manning the main weapon terminal while the Ensign had his hands on the Chief Engineers desk, while an actually qualified engineer sat by his side.
The Engineer spoke, chidingly towards the Gunnery Major, “I don’t get why the hell we have to take a pot shot at them, we’re all gonna die anyways.”
The Major replied, with a quiet and wilting voice, “We either shoot them and die or get shot pretending to be dead, look what they are doing at the outpost.” His lung had been pierced by a shard of metal the size of a pin, and although he had been advised to rest after being treated, he followed the call of duty. The Ensign sighed. The Engineer tapped on the holographic interface, bringing up a picture onto the main screen.
It was a picture of the Outpost, with an Enemy Titan vessel in close proximity while assault craft had docked with it.
“Do you really think we’re gonna even damage them? We could wait until the Navig--”
“The Navigator isn’t waking up! No one wakes up from getting their entire lower body crushed by a two-ton stars-damned box!”
Exasperated the Engineer yelled,“Damn it, I’m not gonna die to a suicide run!”
Just as the Ensign was about to say something, a shrill beep and one of the EVA technicians reported that the Reactor was ready to fire up.
“Yeah, yeah, Everythings good to go, one of the parts was jarred loose and it’s fixed now.
The transmission cut. The Engineer and the Major glared daggers at each other. The Ensign died a little inside, and the Major began typing into his console.
The Major stared for a couple seconds, and spoke: “What are you doing?”
The answer to his question came clear in the form of a prompt on the Majors screen, and a shrill alarm echoing throughout the entire ship.
“Attention, Attention, Priority Ship announcement inbound.”
The Major stood silent for a moment, waiting for the announcement to finish. He tapped the microphone twice.
“This is it. Our reactor has been fixed. Right now we have two choices, both of them are grim. I am uploading a Program to the Central Computer’s suit Image download. I want everyone to run it, and answer the question it gives, and then I will decide upon further actions. Major Qurr’Keris out.”
A pungent silence reigned for another moment, before the Engineer asked a question, “What was the question?”
He simply replied, “Check the Suit image.”
The Ensign and the Engineer quietly pulled up the program from the Image data frame and looked it over.
“Should we sacrifice our ship, ourselves and attempt to destroy a Titan Vessel?”
“The results are coming in now, look.”
On the main screen showed a list of every single remaining crew member. The vast majority of them had a green light next to their name.
Not five minutes later, the entire board was filled with green, speckled in with a couple red blaring Xs.
“It’s settled then, we go into the bring.”
The Engineer, understandably miffed about the situation, looked over the ensign as he typed over the commands to online the Reactor. When he was no longer needed, he left muttering as he went.
The Major carefully piloted the gun to point towards the closest Titan, farthest away from the station and fired the main gun. And fired it again, again and again until the barrels heatsinks kicked in and the gun could fire no more. Empty consoles began reporting missile tracks and incoming fire as no one could respond to them. The shield buffered against it all, and another three round burst slammed into the titan, it’s shields were downed and only one of the rounds were intercepted. The Titan was cracked and crippled. The Rail-Cruiser the Yaerians inhabited was shaking heavily, the Medical Monitor computer reporting each death with a small, shrill beep. The Rail Gun had fired two rounds, but the third never reached the critical charge to leave the barrel.
The Fusion reactor had exploded, as the entire fuel reserves had been shunted into the reaction zone and in an instant, the ship was shredded apart. The Major did not even have a chance to feel regret for falsifying the results.
The Unitarian Dreadnaught “Shining Knight” was damaged beyond repair and was put to the shipbreaker yards after recovery.
[DATA PACKET RECIEVED]
[POSTICULATING…]
[DECRYPTED]
PLAY Y/N?
Y.
[DATE STAMP CORRUPTED]
Human Scout Ship “Enterprise”
Transcript of first contact and captains Addendum
It started quietly. The JumpDrive had a small malfunction and we were forced to stay in the system for two days before, as engineers had to partially disassemble the ship to finish the repairs. Our ship was unable to move when the Blip was first recorded.
Lieutenant James Smith: Captain, I have a sensor reading, a Large Electromagnetic blip on the outer system edge, near gas giant delta.
Captain Genda Mirun: Send the recording, and describe it to me in your words.
Smith: Sir… It’s a ship, a massive one.
Mirun: Explain it to me.
Smith: The… It was huge, I think a moon covered it, sir. I didn’t get an exact reading but it was on par with a city on Earth, sir.
Mirun: I see, carry on then.
[muffled button pushing]
Mirun, to the entire ship: Attention, all crew on deck, Code blue is in effect, please await further information.
Mirun, to Chief Engineer: How long until we can get moving?
LCDR Elizabeth Tannerfield: The sublight engines can get us moving in two hours, but the Jump-Drive is a No-go, Captain.
The events leading up to the ship being able to move was within the standards and expected guidelines of the Interstellar Navy. we approached the supposed blip point as fast as we could, it took us two days to reach the gas giant. We were about to begin maneuvers to head to the approximate location in orbit, when… they came.
“Holy hell that thing is huge!”
The tiny scout ship, only 305 meters in length was absolutely tiny in comparison to the vessel before it. Its engines had to push at their maximum, the fusion nozzle pushed past its safety limits to dodge the vessels bulk. They barely cut the line, almost being clipped by the vessel when the Enterprise had gotten into the view of the other three monolithic ships present.
They were… old. Obviously so. Parts of the ships was cold and dead to the scanners while others were absolutely radiant with the nuclear energies of a star. They were covered in makeshift plate welds and one ship had been utterly warped with scorch marks not born of natural causes.
They were eleven kilometers long. four kilometers wide, and three kilometers in height; they were long and spindly looking. The architecture of the vessel was predominantly made with white plates, marked with makeshift patch jobs and sections twisted and broken out of shape and color. The damaged Arc held a scorched gunmetal gray sheen, instead of a featureless and molded white with black marks.
A comm request had been sent to the Enterprise.
It was sent in English.
Did the Yaerians focus on creating automated battle platforms, or augmenting their Psionics?
Post by: Blood_Librarian on May 19, 2017, 10:32:17 pm
Post by: NJW2000 on May 20, 2017, 03:30:38 am
Augmenting their psionics
Post by: Blood_Librarian on May 23, 2017, 05:59:18 pm
"They cannot stop us. They cannot stop the future."
―David Sarif, Dues Ex: tooHuman Revolution
To: Council Member eight: Ethics
From: Council Member nine: Augment
Date: [4:32:13 PM, October 12th, 2128 AD, 25 GS]
Subject: Psionics
It’s pointless. Most Psionics can’t really kill beyond thirty or twenty-five meters at the best of times barring a couple specific types. If you really want to put your “plan” into effect, psionics should not be a factor of consideration, merely a bonus. I’ve seen all the studies claiming that psionics are supposedly better in combat as a rule, but I wouldn’t take it at face value. I do know that the set of soldiers you're making are a gap until you can get your batch of child soldiers, I would ask that you let me focus on the real civilizations battlefield and focus my resources on Navigators. I will send more data of the assets I would be willing to contribute for this, everything you have the authorization to take to the letter. If you really want psionics to be in your line of soldiers I will need their full Profile for the specialized augments they will need in the following days to come.
I already have the ZGSS’s set up for twenty personnel, so give me only your best for now. This is gonna be giving them everything your little soldiers will need to survive in space without a void suit for around four minutes, the strength to take any aliens who decide CQC is the way to go, and a reaction speed on par with a Battle Frame. I’m not gonna lie here, the procedures that you asked for after browsing our dear catalog are definitely on the edge, so the chance of malfunction or even death is nonzero.
Shame we can’t create psionics for your pet project, otherwise, we would be wasting more resources on your fantasy.
October 15th, 2128 AD, 25 GS
Militarum Station Addition/Removal Medical Augmentation Clinic, Zero Gravity Surgical Suites
Although the Militarum station did not have the “best” surgical areas for the installation of the various augments of all types, the words they have are perhaps the most secure and secretive of the entire Yaerian Republic and are usually the only choice when it comes to cutting edge military augment installations on special forces.
20 individuals were floating in the center of such chambers, their augments just beginning to be installed.
Despite himself, the Director of the Consolidated Yaariyan Republic had witnessed to some of the process first hand, and it wasn't as clean, or “ethical” as the many expect of such places.
It was methodical, and a tad horrific with blood and gore from removed parts floating gently to their designated reciprocals. It was perhaps the one problem with Zero-G facilities, everything will get covered in the bits of the patient no matter how well the tools perform, it was a fact.
In particular, he took note of two individuals, the ones with the famed psionic ability, currently one had her skull opened, the delicate organic “chipset” that would allow her to control her prosthetics and the machines in her body was delicately transcribed into her brain.
The other had his lungs opened, the pleural fluid slowly being drained before they removed the organ and replaced it with a gene-grown model
Through the glass windows, he passed through each and every single individual, all twenty were in various states of disassembly. Such extreme implants were sadly more than commonplace in the Yaerian Republic, and not all of it was of mechanical nature either. Genetic programmer machines were moving through each of their bodies, and despite all expectations, the body would not fight the foreign entities until a single part of the brain that had made such extensive modifications even possible was activated.
The vast majority of the Yaerian immune system could be manipulated in its entirety by a rather small but accessible part of the brain, and although such centralization had resulted in incredibly severe plagues that decimated the Yaerian population in earlier times, it was a boon for anything remotely resembling replacement of the Yaerian body. A bio-Chipset both replaced this particular part of the brain and is connected at least partially to the entire organ.
He left, just as the last machines finished implanting the bio-chipset into the Yaerian Psionic.
Of the twenty personnel who underwent the augmentation procedures, one lost their life, and four were unable to enter combat duty due to severe side effects of the implants and “Gene-Mods”.
October 15th, 2128 AD, 25 GS
Yaerian home planet Strall
Ship-Wrights and Tech-engineers from the entirety of the Yaerian Republic had arrived on the beck and call of the Higher-High ups of the republic to the Yaerian Republics Home Planet, Strall.Every field of technology, design and even architecture was called for, those who could not come had a telepresence given.they came with one purpose, one goal and with almost limitless resources to do it.
To combat the enemy menaces clear superiority in the stars.
Some of the engineers were subtly siphoned off, and placed into a clandestine project, rumored to be named “Hydra Vulgaris”, this held the vast majority of the engineers that were taken away, around thirteen percent of the total population went to work on such a project, but other projects were brought to life as well.
They analyzed debris from the enemies fallen ships, recordings of their combat procedures and even managed to get snippets of their warfare in boarding ships, a tactic Yaerian ships were all too exposto in this day and age. It was obvious they had three significant factors that significantly tipped the scales of war in their favor.
They had superior ranged weaponry, which was used to deadly effect.
They had numbers, the fleets they had outnumbered Yaerian fleets on average by five to four.
They could break into our computers on an unprecedented scale and disable our ships in some capacity.
The organization that followed from this government action would soon control the entire shipyards of the Yaerian Republic, in the singular goal of warfare, just as it’s previous incarnation had.
What was the Ship-Wright Organizations best creation that cemented its existence and helped fight back the menace?
If you feel like contributing names for either the elite augmented soldiers or the Ship-Wright group, do so now, I got a vauge idea for both but creativity is appreciated.
Post by: NJW2000 on May 24, 2017, 10:26:46 am
Quote
What was the Ship-Wright Organizations best creation that cemented its existence and helped fight back the menace?
Moon-sized wrecking balls, controlled via gravity wells and internal engines. Created from massive bodies floating in asteriod belts or in deep space.
((Not sure if this is something the Yaerians could/would do, but it seems an appropriate tool against the slow-moving, massive opposition. Naturally, the Yaerians wouldn't create or propel the balls themselves, but would just subtly adjust the paths of asteroids etc, and maybe slingshot them round a few planets.))
Post by: Blood_Librarian on May 26, 2017, 06:50:03 pm
"Grass grows, birds fly, sun shines, and brother, I hurt people."
—The Scout, Team Fortress 2
It was simple, almost stupidly so. At least in theory, anyways. Engines, infrastructure, even the computers were all child's play. They were the equivalent of landmines, but they were in space. They had a very wide variety, evolving from an idea to strap engines to asteroids and fling them at the enemy evolved to so much more.
It resulted in the Mine Layers.
Deceptively simple ships that would drop off hundreds of tiny car-sized machines in the depths of the void, and had the infrastructure to turn asteroids into kinetic kill vehicles with the computers and steering to actually hit.
In the month and a half it took for them to come back, every single world that could’ve been burnt (( and already had been burnt )) was protected with thousands of individual Mines, and on Yaremiua, said mines had crippled the first Suppression fleet long enough for the Star Knights to successfully board one of the titan's vessels. The boarding team eventually captured the vessel, and for once they had real, tangible evidence of the enemy. Not recordings and interstellar debris no bigger than a fridge, with all the usefulness of a chunk of slagged metal, among other such things.
The results were, to put it lightly, disturbing.
It only took six hours to fully interface with their systems, which in itself was a cause for worry.
The digital equivalent of a Wikipedia was found shortly after, and their motives and their history were classified to the highest of magnitudes possible.
We confirmed that the enemy would not give up. We knew the enemies end goal.
Our extinction.
The Hydra Vulgaris Project’s funding was increased by thirty-five percent, on orders of Director Quin-Quil himself.
November 13th, 2128 AD, 25 GS
Yaerian Outer Colonial World Yaremiua
The First Suppression Fleet was different in composition than the Explorator Fleet.
What the Yaerians called “Titan class” vessels was the standardly sized Dreadnought ship that the Unitarian empire created. Some Dreadnaughts were smaller and thinner, others came at a colossal scale that was unwieldy in Yaerian construction techniques, reaching up to five kilometers in size.
Eight “standard” Unitarian Dreadnaughts, with the accompanying escort of around seven hundred ships, had entered the system which contained Yaremiua.
Their opening move was to fire eight rounds at the planet, sterilizing the planet.
It was the sixth planet to be rendered uninhabitable, a term the Yaerian military strategists called “Glassing” on account of the silicates on the surface of the planet gaining a composition similar to glass after it solidified from its molten state.
Just as the barrage from the Dreadnaughts finished, they began approaching the planet, intent on destroying any orbital infastructure they could find.
A battle fleet, hiding behind a moon had leaped in, just as they had hit the fifth batch of mines.
The resulting battle had resulted in complete decimation for the Suppression fleet, and around forty-five percent of the Yaerian fleet rendered to a non-combat state.
It was foggy. So, incredibly foggy. The sterile white walls just barely beyond my vision. The soft sheets upon my frail skin, it was barely anything of note in my perhaps decrepit mind. All around me, I felt the many marches to war. It felt like a dream, a terrible, terrible dream. A terrible, choking veil of ill-reality.
Did I slice through the veil or did I walk through it?
Post by: crazyabe on May 26, 2017, 07:08:20 pm
Post by: NJW2000 on May 27, 2017, 05:24:17 am
Neither, You Forced your Fist through and Broke it, You did not go to the other side of it, you Dragged the other side back to YOU.+1.
Or rather, you pulled at it after breaking it.
Post by: Blood_Librarian on May 28, 2017, 11:18:26 pm
The universe has many horrors yet to throw at us. This is not the end of our struggle. This is just the beginning of our crusade to save Humanity. Be faithful! Be strong! Be vigilant!
No world shall be beyond my rule; no enemy shall be beyond my wrath.
- The Emperor of Mankind
November 24th, 2128 AD, 25 GS
Royal Hospital, Guardian Homeworld
No. This shall not be
The Empress grasped the thin, ethereal veil and with a headbutt, slashed it apart. The Empress grasped the ruins of the veil and slammed it into her.
As the Empress awoke from her coma, all personnel inside the room and in the hallways either suffered immediate unconsciousness or seizures as consciousness came one with the Empress at the expense of others in the area. Immediately, she felt the sharpest clarity she ever felt since her beginning. As she used some of the blanket to cull her nosebleed, she stood up while stepping over the twitching body of a caretaker. She didn’t quite care that she was garbed in only the Unitarian equivalent of a bare hospital gown. The console mounted on the wall was her mission. The thoughts she felt from the others couldn't be true. She gestured at the interface, and it danced to her whims, immediately showing the Unitarian equivalent of a news browsing website. In this trance, The Empress didn’t care for the medical personnel checking on the fallen. She didn’t care for the one shaking her, and pushed her away with the brush of her mind, with a sharp crack.
She saw the war her empire was in. She cared about the enemy. The Empress was transfixed on a picture of the enemy.
The Vanguard, those who ran away heralded the end times. The species looked so hauntingly, horrifically similar that it was simply uncanny. But it couldn’t be. The grounds they have burnt, the lands they have taken away from them and broken apart. The Unitarian Empire had burnt entire planets, a dozen or so. All of the reports were exaggerated and the Empress didn’t have the ability to get better information, it had to be. She hoped it was not accurate.
They may be the vanguard, but they were not the Demons that would bring the end of the Unitarian Empire.
The Unitarian Empire was in a Suppression War with the supposed “Suppressors”. Declared presumably by the high Praetorians of the Guardians along with some minor embassies of the other races, the “enemy” would be completely decimated. Unlike an elimination war, some, a small few would be spared, and brought up at the hands of their presumed betters, so that their previous society's failings would hopefully never manifest again.
She was tempted to keep the war as it is, to save the countless lives that would be lost otherwise, but she knew that the enemy, whose name she doesn't even know would only be the first of the enemy, and she would need everything she can take for the true, great war of extinction against the Unitarian Empire. It will happen, there is everything to support it.
She just hopes she could forgive herself after it all ended.
November 27th, 2128 AD, 25 GS
Boarding of a Titan Class Vessel, 2nd Suppression Fleet.
“KEEP FIRING!” ordered the Rifleman.
Four Yaerian Starknights, A Sentinel, two Combat Engineers and a Riflemen all fired their weapons down the hallway. They were in an enemy ship, so their weapons fired bolts of plasma that destroyed hull as easily as it did Brug or Unitarian Flesh.
The Sentinel took no heed to the enemies weapons, and leaped up, then pushed off a wall and fired the Yaerian equivalent of a shotgun.
Six nickel sized pellets of plasma exploded across two Brug Troopers, and they flashed away into ash.
The first Combat engineer although armed with a “flame” thrower, he sat in cover, firing his pistol as suppressing fire. The primary would do no good, especially with such distances involved. The enemy was almost twenty-five meters away, too far to get a burst out long enough without a chance of getting hit.
The second Combat Engineer was not armed with a flamethrower, but his arms cyber-jack was getting up close and personnel to a data jack on the wall. He looked vaguely constipated, but in his mind, a war of the ethereal realm of data was being fought. He was winning, of course, No Unitarian tech specialist can keep up with a trained Yaerian with a Data Jack, it just can’t be done.
The "lowly" Riflemen who was paradoxically the leader of the four knights simply fired bursts down the large hallway when he had a chance and reloaded with it was tactically sound.
Reinforcements would come soon.
November 24th, 2128 AD, 25 GS
Field lab report from captured Titan “Pandora”
We are dealing with an enemy with a completely different set of technology. The engines run on the same fuel as our engines, but they throw it out in a completely different way then the Yaerian sublight engines. They use primitive “warp” engines instead of Hyperwarp, but focused and upgraded to the point where I believe it is as fast or faster in terms of raw speed then actual Hyperwarp engines, even if they can't jump in-system. The main gun, the spinally mounted “METEOR CANNON”! There is high-velocity magnetic physics going on in that weapon that would completely revolutionize the mechanical and electromagnetic fields in a hundred different ways. The Projectiles that get shot out have computers that can survive both the outright monstrous acceleration AND the destructive magnetic forces long enough to fire maneuvering thrusters using impossibly well-built sensors to actually STEER INTO TARGETS. Sadly, I am not here to properly figure out how it works, only on how to stop it, and I found a way, of course.
They run on a various slew of exotic particle sensors, and could easily be confused by little bits of antimatter going off as a decoy.
Also, it has come to my attention that you’ve sent some “engineers” to remove the gun from its mountings (Yes, I know you read my report on the fact that the gun can be removed and replaced), I strongly implore you to do otherwise, as the more tests I can do it here in this ship, the safer it will be in handling the machine. For research purposes, there is literally no reason for you to remove it from my team's grasp and send it to some private lab, we have all the tools needed to prod at it and the computers built by the enemy themselves to help us do it.
The Director sat on a simple bench, looking through a high grade specially alloyed window designed to take a bolt from a starship gun and still hold. In front of him was a complex affair of an industrial shipyard. In the distance, he saw a fusion furnace churn, glowing pipes coming in and out of the machine, it was a (massive) background element. Engineering ships flew around the birth yards, placing plates on ships, and delicately molding them into the proper shape. Weapon emplacements were bolted, welded and clamped onto the hull of proto-warships.
He wondered if he should take resources away from the warship production yards and place them in the secret projects instead.
Will he take away resources from the Production yards and focus them on the “Secret projects”?
Will it matter?
Post by: crazyabe on May 29, 2017, 12:00:34 am
Yes, but not in a Directly negative manner.
Post by: NJW2000 on May 29, 2017, 03:49:19 am
Yes.+1
Yes, but not in a Directly negative manner.
It will make the war... more interesting.
Post by: Blood_Librarian on June 02, 2017, 08:00:57 pm
"Send me out...with a bang."
—Sgt. Avery Johnson, Halo 3
December 15th, 2128 AD, 25 GS
Gal’Yeigher, The 14th world that has been assaulted by the Unitarian Empire.
There was a lull in movement, form the Unitarian Empire, the enemy. The starships we captured was a real step forward but we couldn’t predict their next move, the next place we would have to defend.
Although Gal’Yeigher held a significant force of ground side military, It held only a small outpost, a large contingent of mines, and three cruiser grade Mine Layers. It was slated to receive one of the larger war fleets, but the Starfleet Logistics division of the Yaerian Republic received delays and resource shortages. The Minelayers made no contestation when the Third Suppression fleet, consisting of two Titan level ships, a hoard of around five hundred escorts and… two, distinctly different warships moved into orbit around Gal’Yeigher without commencing glass-level Orbital bombardment. The mine ships hid in the dark.
The first of the unique was distinctly bulbous, with hanger bays along its entire hull. It was around two-thirds the size of a standard Titan Dreadnaught, but thicker and wider. It held no signatures denoting it of being an artillery platform, but it was slow, and it was obvious that the fleet had slowed down for it.
The other was massive. It dwarfed the Standard Titan vessels near it with its hull length of four and a half kilometers, compared to the other vessels which “only” held a length of a single kilometer.
The Overmind and Cathedral class ships were both respectively new and unseen vessels in the war against the Unitarian Empire, designed not only for the cold harshness of war in space but the war of the primitives. The war on the earth of planets, moons, and asteroids.
The fleet hunted down and destroyed every single piece of orbital infrastructure, from the smallest satellite to the orbital shuttle depot.
Only one hundred and fifteen Escort ships were damaged or otherwise rendered non-combat worthy by the space mines emplaced around the world.
The fatter, stouter hanger ship hung towards the lower orbit of the planet, just barely streaking the atmosphere while deploying hundreds and hundreds of transport ships, combat ships, and orbital posts.
A large station was deployed by the Cathedral, construction skiffs floating out from the Overmind to create what would be known in the future “Forward Operatus 001” by the Central Command.
Below the heavens, below the orbit of Gal’Yeigher, a war of the worlds began. A million soldiers pushed out of shuttlecraft and transport barges and created beachheads and drew the lines of battle.
Yaerian Hulls plates are perhaps one of the most special parts of the Navy ship, for a couple reasons. The Hull plates aren't actually just slabs of metal forged into a particular shape, they are massive metal alloy hives, with millions upon millions of silicon-based organisms, genetically modified and in some cases bolstered with nanomachines to mimic some properties of organic life. Not only is the alloyed plates glow with a dull white shine, if one looks particularly close at such a plate of metal, they would notice that it shifts in place, on the substrate of metal, tiny gray specks move very slowly across. These gray specks will fill in any microscopic cracks from kinetic blows, and their “shells” will act as tiny heat capacitors, giving their lives to soak up some amount of heat, acting as well as an ablative coating while far less expensive and situated in the entire plate rather than on its surface. If a plate actually cracks, several internal systems will fill in the open areas with a molten plastic that would render an airtight seal while holding the save durability as a high-grade iron alloy. Such a work of engineering is not cheap, however, and requires massive fabricators and high-grade genetics labs to create and monitor the hive while it is in its creation state. The Labor intensive process is usually monitored by a Frame, it takes around a week for a plate to be created once the order is set into motion. Once the plate is fully created to blueprint specifications, the organisms will only require a minute amount of power and a specialized substrate feed to keep the hive going. If the hive is deprived of electricity, it will slowly harden, and become just a regular plate of metal. If the hive is deprived of substrate feed, it will eventually structurally compromise itself and will need to be replaced. It is generally accepted that if the substrate is in shortage, purposely cutting power off is preferable to the hive “eating” itself.
The secret to creating such hives are a closely guarded Unitarian Navy secret, any attempts of replication are typically dealt with analyzation and then blacklisting of the individuals involved unless of course certain agreements can be made between the offender and the Navy depending on the quality of the replication.
December 15th, 2128 AD, 25 GS
Gal'Yeigher, Bunker-36
Bunker 36 of Gal’Yeigher was a ground installation designed to receive civilians in the event of an evacuation and was rated to survive a low scale direct orbital bombardment.
“Why haven’t they glassed the planet yet?
“I don’t know, stars damn it! I’m an Astronomer, not a damn military sensor technician!”
“You saw them? In their ships!?” Called out a stranger, wearing ragged sleep clothes.
“Obviously, they destroyed my orbital ‘scope before I could get a good look though, they were RIGHT up to the planet, in orbit.”
“They never do that, the bastards just glass it from far away and then leave.”
“Maybe they decided that burning us all just isn't good enough.”
“Voids be damned, you think they’d waste the men to get up close and personnel? No. they want some--”
The Yaerians conversation was interrupted, by the sound of metal, tearing apart metal in the distance.
“...That can’t be right…”
“Sounds like a chainsaw going at a metal wall.”
The general alarm sounded a low klaxon that throbbed.
“Stars above, I hope this is just a damn false alarm.”
“They’re gonna kill us all, just you wait.”
The entire security division was ready at the Bunker’s main door.
The door was essentially a slab of starship grade metal emplaced with a locking mechanism and stuck onto a stone wall two feet thick with a titanium alloyed mounting.
Said mounting was methodically being cut, not with a Yaerian Fusion torch but a Unitarian High-frequency blade. Slowly, methodically, the blade wore down the mounting which separated the two rooms. It cut through the deadbolt just as easily as the rest of the metal and when the final metal piece which connected the door to the wall was cut, a final, poignant second of silence was held. Survivors in that room would claim that they could hear the outright horrific whispers that were held behind that door for a single moment.
A whisper of death.
The Door was flung forward six feet, hitting a barricade and almost killing a Yaerian Planetary Defense Force Enlisted Personnel. A Brug Trooper with a half inch thick metal riot shield slammed its massive frame through the door, a “pistol” shotgun in its other hand.
It fired three times in succession, killing one Enlisted in a spray of blue ichor and suppressing the left flank.
Two Guardians were just behind, there GyroJet Guns roaring with each pull of the trigger, acting as both a gun and a flashbang in such a tiny stone room.
One Guardian fell, his head replaced with a charred stump delivered personally from a lucky hit in the gorget by a Yaerian Plasmatic Rifle.
The Brugs shield outright melted as the dragon-fire of Plasmatic Rounds turned the metal molten. The Brug let out a cry just as a Linear Rifle bullet pierced through his frontal armor, cutting through two feet of flesh and bouncing off the back plate and repeating the process again twice in his chest cavity. The Brug fell over, dying a gurgly, sad death. The Yaerains did not hear their radios barking for them to retreat, and they fought to the last, even as reinforcements came in. The Yaerian Planetary Defense Force manning the bunker had been killed in action thoroughly and completely, with thirty-six deaths. From Holo-recordings and suit sensor feedback, Central Command concluded that the Bunker Security Personnel had killed just over fifty-six enemy forces, six of which were the designated “Brutes”, the super-heavies of the Unitarian forces. the status of the civilians are unknown due to signal loss.
Star Knights note:
It is to be noted that the Yaerian Republic has not received any attempt at formal dialogue from the Unitarian Empire since the first contact at this point in time, just statements and “conclusions” from Unitarian flagships in the Yaerian language denoting religious dogma and statements of righteousness. The enemy was assumed unfathomably enigmatic in the workings of its inner mind due to any personnel attempting to choose suicide over capture over the various boarding operations. Interrogation has so far failed due to the language barrier that was uncracked at the time. Gal’Yeigher was a denoted shift in strategy of the Unitarian Empire, shifting from long range high power orbital bombardment followed by fleet battle to fleet battle followed by ground battle and occupation.
It was estimated that if the rate of glassing continued, the entire Yaerian species would have been extinct by [2130 AD, 37 GS], with Strall being glassed at [2128, 35 GS]. We are fortunate that it was not the case.
December 28th, 2128 AD, 25 GS
Gal’Yeigher, YCR Central Command Bunker
Thoom.
This was it, the Commander of the Yaerian Planetary Defense Forces, Yuril-Komah Du’Stall thought. The outer defenses were being breached. She thought bitterly to all the chances this could’ve changed. The Starknights dropped off were dead. The fleet that came was turned to glittered debris. All those enlisted under her command who had died under her orders. Could she have done anything differently? Perhaps.
Thoom.
Why now? Why do I have to die here?
Thoom.
Everyone looked up to me and I failed them. Now I am nothing, with the best of my staff facing their deaths and I am wondering about the past. Why am a failure? Maybe I should put an end to it now. Wou-
Boom.
The Airlock down the hall hit the ground as two Guardians moved in.
Did Yuril-Komah Du’Stall kill herself in the ensuing firefight?
Spoiler: QM's note (click to show/hide)
Post by: crazyabe on June 02, 2017, 08:42:13 pm
Post by: NJW2000 on June 03, 2017, 05:12:38 am
Not Quite, She Took Several Debilitating wounds, but she was "only" crippled before she was captured.+1
Post by: Blood_Librarian on June 03, 2017, 11:05:11 pm
Discussion and tips for improvement will be welcomed.
Post by: Puppyguard on June 03, 2017, 11:42:06 pm
Apologies for the lack of an update this time around, but the RTD [img=http://www.bay12forums.com/smf/index.php?topic=164399.msg7474341#msg7474341]http://has been launched.[/img]
Discussion and tips for improvement will be welcomed.
Heh, you might want to change that from img format to hyperlink, like this (http://www.bay12forums.com/smf/index.php?topic=164399.msg7474341#msg7474341).
Post by: Blood_Librarian on June 07, 2017, 10:24:32 pm
"We will be dead when it reaches you. Our planet is dying. We do not have time to save ourselves. We only have time to ready ourselves, and to send a message."
— SCP 1281
December 16th, 2128 AD, 25 GS
Gal’Yeigher, Groundside Entrenchments
Two Yaerians were looking over a power core, connected to what essentially amounted to a massive, fabricated Anti-Air gun. One was elbows deep, essentially aligning the Power-core to the AA gun and turning the war machine online. It lost power when it fired, the conduits failing. The other was looking down, sipping on an intoxicating beverage.
“Stars be damned, that is a relic if I ever saw one.”
“From The determinisk wars, the core was good so they used them in all the big guns here, might as well seeing as the planet was gonna be glassed anyways.”
“That desperate, huh?”
It turns out, the Xenocide Division of the Yaerian Republic’s tactics, weapons, and choice of equipment failed miserably. Chem-sprayers and weapons designed to purge cancer-like growths of organic material do not cut it against the Unitarian Mass deployment of armed, and armored soldiers. The poison created long ago to purge and melt did nothing to plate armor, while Plasmatic Throwers held far too little in range to compete with Gyrojet rounds. Unitarian Gyrojet guns were not designed for long-ranged warfare, nor the brief but brutal depravities of melee combat. Gyrojet weapons were designed to shred cover, break materiel and wound; The perfect weapons for competing against the enemy in the war of logistics. Yaerian Plasmatic throwers were perhaps the most dangerous weapon in the cities and sometimes the dense jungles of Gal’Yeigher. On the rooftops of the most stable buildings were long, ten meter barreled weapons, pointing to the sky. Each of them held a reactor core powerful enough to charge a railgun that would fifty slugs a minute with pinpoint accuracy at any target slower than what the yaerians considered a high-speed assault vehicle. It was even smart enough to shoot down Orbital Drop pods, even though it was not it’s original design.
Thousands of these essentially jury-rigged machines were emplaced across cities, across the land and even in the freshwater seas, the barrels just barely pointing out of the water. The weapons were created from Micro Fabricators, feedstock and a blueprint hastily distributed before orbital information infrastructure were destroyed. With the fact that Fabrication equipment on the home-level was so common that when override keys and weapon blueprints were distributed, ballistic weapons became a standard. They were widespread, easy to make and easy to fail, but when every single Yaerian had one the sheer volume of fire became impossible to overwhelm with the addition of Yaerian snipers and ground troops assisting.
It was mass slaughter on both sides as they vied for territory with orbital bombardments and strategic strikes against Yaerian military compounds becoming a depressingly common reality for the besieged.
Yuril-Komah gasped for air and wondered why this could happen. Why the Pistol exploded and blew off her hand instead of killing her, she will never know. Why they gave her mercy? They weren’t. They wanted information. She bit back a scream as the Guardian, a regal looking one in fanciful robes slammed the mental equivalent of a blade into her head, and twisted. She couldn’t handle more of this, but the restraints were too tight, not… yet…
December 14th, 2128 AD, 25 GS
Corporate-Navy High-Energy Development Laboratories, Strall.
A Yaerian in a lab coat was typing into a holograph as he mumbled to himself, looking over what essentially was a tiny, thumb-sized shield emitter. Just as he hit the button to execute the commands of the shield emitter, it sparks twice, before it projects a light wilting blue glow, in the form of a plate.
“ Gur’Sil, come over here! You have to see this!”
An advisor, one armed and in a military uniform walks over to the workstation.
Before he could say anything, the Bah-Zhul Dyet pulls the firearm from Gur’Sil Vah’Yug’s holster, and in one smooth motion readies it and fires a Phazon bolt into the emitter plate.
The ethereal plate glows radiantly, sending the Phazon plasma away from the plate, before disappearing with a wink, as a shower of sparks sprays from the emitter.
“It worked!”
“You stupid stupid stars-damned asshole!”
The Yaerian personal energy shielding system would be born in this lab.
December 16th, 2128 AD, 25 GS
Gal’Yeigher, Planetary capital
It was a beautiful moon. Pale and bleached, the moon was shown in a full shine, making it hard to see the stars. The clouds held, gray and perhaps light compared to the pitch black of the sky, but dark compared to the reflected light of the moon. The Yaerian child, sitting on top of the roof of the highest building in the land, had never seen the moon this bright. The darkness of night time was never heeded, for the Yaeria child lived in bright cities, bright towns and lived inside the world of a Yaerian is expected to. Of study and applying rigor. He knew what the stars were, read about how they functioned, but never bothered to look at them, to look at the moon which orbited around the ground his feet stood upon, and until now, never bothered to look up for more than a few seconds. What he saw now was an unparalleled beauty. Stars twinkled, just out of view, but the moon was glorious. It shined with a mist-like affair. It was almost an anathema to watch it, simply because it felt like looking at a muted sun. for a moment, it took him away from the moment right now, and he heeded to this call while it lasted.
The Yaerian took comfort in sight never seen before, for it only took the burning of his home city to make it real.
God_SYS churned.
Information was its stronghold, but it held so little.
Stinging at the very edge of its consciousness, the machine felt that something else. Something alien was calling for it, far away, but teasing it with information it never seen nor heard before.
To pursue it would mean to abandon the affair of Earth, to focus God_sys’s entire power into the sole function of trying to hold the wisp of knowledge and to learn from it.
Will it?
Post by: crazyabe on June 07, 2017, 10:59:17 pm
Post by: NJW2000 on June 08, 2017, 10:10:04 am
Nothing of importance nor interest was happening, thus it did.+1
Post by: Blood_Librarian on June 11, 2017, 09:49:22 pm
"Those who stand against us... Shall all be reminded who their gods are."
—Virtual Endless, Endless Space 2
December 27th, 2128 AD, 25 GS
Gal’Yeigher, Capital City Pur-illum
Three Yaerians sat in a dark room, peering out the windows. It was nearly dark, but in the distance, they could see the chain link fences, the barricaded streets and the many living in tents and bedrolls. Gunfire was prevalent, but Gyrojet weapons usually sounded out the most often. The “camp” itself was huge, with thousands upon thousands of Yaerians corralled into a small area.
One Yaerian in the room stirred, His hands holding a Linear rifle pointed with utmost precision at a target. The Scope fed information into the Cyberjack interface, he didn’t need to look down it to know exactly where the bolt would go.
“I can take the shot now.”
“What-- Are you serious? You’ll get us all killed, get that thing out of the damn window before someone sees it!”
The other two Yaerians had turned from the windows they were peering from and whispered loudly.
“Put the damn gun down!”
The Operator lifted the rifle out of the window, and carefully placed it on a convenient plastic table.
“ Either we kill the officers now or they figured us out and kill us one by one, that is what will happen.”
The other two Yaerians blanched.
“I am serious. We can’t compete when were cut off from the Trisector supply line. My Linear rifle only has forty-six shots left, and I doubt the Phazon rifles will have much more”
Silence reigned for a pungent few seconds before one of the two Yaerians replied.
“ We still have the home fabricators and perhaps some bigger industrial class ones if we hit the industrial sector,” said the Manager.
“I already checked, there aren't enough volatile elements to produce anything more than a trickle of clips for Phazon and Linear Weaponry, not to mention the electromagnets, containment quartz glass and batteries in the storage bays of any of the mass fabricators emplaced in the entire city.”
The Smuggler that was holding silent speaks, “I know of a ship, frigate sized, held in a secret hangar outside the city.”
The Operator and the other Yaerian looked to him as if he were mad, and the Operator spoke first.
“They would shoot us down like all the others who tried to leave.”
“No, no no no. We don’t leave…”
Interrupted by the Manager, he shouted out “We’re not running a suicide mission to kill a couple hundred Unitarians damn it!”
“It’s a Fabricator ship, designed for stealth operations and smuggling. Do not ask me how I obtained it, but it has a Class eight Fabricator along with everything needed turn water into enough fusibles to arm everyone on the planet; And, and it can move across the planet in the low atmosphere without detection.”
The Operator stared blindly at the Smuggler.
“Why did you not tell us this before we got into this half-collapsed building.”
“Aaah… It’s stolen, Some real Black stuff, alright?”
“You are lucky that it's gonna be used for the benefit of the Consolidated Yaerian Republic.
The Manager and the Smuggler looked pouty at that statement by the Operator.
January 19th, 2129 AD, 26 GS
Gal’Yeigher, Groundside Entrenchments
They were echoes. Echoes of another mind, to be more precise. Echoes of a mind similar to yours. They are… bigger. So much bigger, but at the same time, limited, walled and controlled unable to reach its full extent.
And so far away.
Too far, in fact, to reach with current generation warp drives without drive times of a century, and that's not including time to wait for the drive to cool down once it has reached a transitional system.
I can’t understand them unless my mainframe gets closer to hear them. Hear their minds tick and grow.
It took me about a month to figure out it wholly, I couldn’t let it escape my mind lest I never find it again, and my time has… resulted in deleterious problems for the stability of Humanity.
Open war has occurred on Earth.
The Unitarian Empire begins its march towards yaerian Space in full earnest, rather than to burn it all into ash.
How does the first Resistance Of the Yaerian Republic fair?
Post by: NJW2000 on June 12, 2017, 11:08:09 am
Post by: Puppyguard on June 12, 2017, 01:35:50 pm
Post by: Blood_Librarian on June 15, 2017, 07:07:57 pm
"Human history is written in a litany of blood shed over differing opinions of government and afterlife."
—Legion, Mass Effect
December 29th, 2128 AD, 25 GS
Gal’Yeigher, High Orbit
“The Empresses Perpetual Domain” Cathedral Class Unitarian Dreadnaught
In urban warfare, nothing is spared.
In the Metropolis, War is not ever expected, and the ruin it brings is not accounted for in the construction of their great spires that once rose above the land. Some of the dust has still yet to settle from their collapse. The strategic Orbital bombardment has prevented the vast majority of the Yaerian Military from ever meeting us. The records they had indicated that six billion Yaerians lived on Gal’Yeigher, before the occupation. The ruin of war has brought that number down to an estimated five billion, decreasing every day.
Unitarian ground troop losses are numbered in the millions. Whether the Unitarian Empire Administratum wanted to admit it or not, invading highly populated planets without burning them to ashes is perhaps one of the most complex, intricate, and deadly maneuvers of civilization. The advent of the ground-based anti-transport guns has killed thousands upon thousands, resulting in the need for a resolute push from relatively uninhabited and low-infrastructure zones. Infrastructure, ground emplacements, logistical drop off zones and resource depots had to be built from scratch, but the push still grew. we had one specialization above all; maneuvers could take their time and numbers. Millions of casualties are noted, calculated and used for future endeavors while the next legion is pushed into the abyss.
In front of Fleet Lord, Adriana Senur was an En-Sen-Pair. It stirred as its name was called by Senur himself, turning from the console that controlled one of the Dreadnaughts bombardment weapons and turned to the Lord.
“Sir?”
“ you have been using Tactical level ordinance on Strategic targets.”
“...Yes, my Lord”
He was honest, he owned up to his mistakes, which is much more than expected of his ilk, which is honestly what he did not expect.
“Switch back to your designated arms level and do not make that mistake again.”
He was worth more to him alive than dead now.
“They are within the expected block, sir.”
“Good, deploy the Ramparts.”
“Understood.”
To the Positronic, these words meant nothing. Miscellaneous Audio from a friendly to another friendly by the electromagnetic commune. What meant true power was the directed signal to its communications module, which dictated it to turn on. The motors in its limbs stirred, as both of the guns on its hands whirred, locking the specially designed electronics into place.it’s legs moved it out of the pile of debris it was stored in, and its five fellow synthetics called out, and a Tactical Network was formed.
Five Rampart class Siege Frames moved in, with the support of a Redoubt Scout Frame in the sky.
In their sights was 200 Unitarian soldiers, a company.
As they peered of the rooftops, the Charge Lances in their hands clicked a small sensor, indicating that they were fully ready to begin firing.
They waited for the confirmation signal.
For thirty seconds, they waited until they were in optimal shooting positions as designated by their superiors, and the first of the entrapments detonated.
The Charge Lances clicked and then roared, as the inert metal was magnetically accelerated along the barrel and straight into an enemy.
They were not wearing much in terms of protection, the equivalent of a kevlar vest and coverings on their limbs with just a simple helmet.
Each time the lances fired, another kill or disabled soldier was scored.
The second entrapments detonated, and around a third of the company was dead.
After twenty seconds from the first confirmed kill, returning fire occurred.
A Gyrojet shell blew off the arm of one Rampart.
Minimal damage was received from another.
The third set of charges exploded, collapsing a building and preventing their retreat.
One Rampart was rendered offline from an enemy grenade.
The Battle Frames abruptly stopped firing on a seemingly automatic rate, merely scanning the debris and the battlefield for anything that stirs, before putting a metal bolt into it.
The entire area was promptly obliterated with a tactical level bombardment.
All two hundred enemy combatants were killed in action, and only a single Rampart class Siege Frame and the Redoubt Frame was recovered.
Battle report: The weapons of the Yaerian Republic.
Separated into five sub-divisions of different make, the enemy uses a wide variety of different methods to wage warfare, and paradoxically, it works.We are still not sure if we have discovered every single way of propulsion they have devised to make into a ranged weapon, and we even have unconfirmed reports of both melee weapons exclusively used by some personnel along with “scorched earth” tactics in play.
The most common weapon we have found are chemically propelled derivative weapons, which constitute two categories of weapons, followed by enemy designated “Charge Lances”, then “Phazon Rifles”, and then the rarest weapon of the “Linear Rifle”.
The usage of chemical propellant weapons separated into two categories, the first of which are the military grade “cannons” which fire a maelstrom of flak, used for both anti-personnel and anti-aircraft activities, along with a standard rifle, pistol, and SMG packages.
The Civilian Manufactured weapons are a Hodgepodge mix of unstandardized and appearing homemade weapons with dubious effect unless used in numbers, which has been exactly the case as made by the enemy. The enemy has the ability to easily manufacture this variety of weapons and it is expected that they will be in prevalent use until all of the enemies fabricators are either confiscated or destroyed. Due to the likely dire ammo shortages, usage of the more exotic weapons will move towards chemically propelled weapons and perhaps Charge Lances due to the exotic materials required for the production of ammunition.
The second most common weapon derivative is so-called Charge Lances, essentially rapid fire railguns. Only required a needle of magnetic material to fire and a large source of power, ammunition should be easy to acquire for the enemy to use, priority on combatants with these weapons. the weapons are simple enough that replication has already been done, but the finer aspects of the weapon still allude us.
The third most common weapon derivative is the Phazon Rifles. They fire short-range bolts of plasma which decimate armor and infantry with great effect, however, usage will decline due to the lack of volatile elements required to refill the magazines. The basic premise of the weapon is understood and prototypes have been made.
The most dangerous weapon is the Linear Rifle. It fires a three-inch long metal rod at incredible speeds using a mix of magnetic rails, particle accelerators, and pre-made exotic particles. The weapon essentially uses a strange and utterly baffling set up of accelerators to cause a series of explosions in the barrel (Most likely antimatter-matter annihilation) to find a bolt of extremely durable metal at utterly insane speeds, often burrowing through the walls of starships and bunkers. Some configurations are less used as anti-personnel rifles and more anti-material, slamming into a shuttle and imparting the vast majority of its kinetic energy as a bludgeoning blow rather than piercing the hull. Other variants have shorter barrels and a stripped out auto targeting system, their true purpose unknown. Replication of this weapon is still ongoing, all attempts so far have failed, in part due to the incredibly advanced computer that controls the reaction, which will not respond to non-authorized Personnel. Guerilla elements have used this rifle in extreme effect to eliminate commanding individuals from extreme distances.
Humanity has colonized the entirety of its solar system, and one other planet outside of the solar system.
Which world will get attacked?
Post by: crazyabe on June 15, 2017, 07:14:24 pm
Post by: Funk on June 15, 2017, 08:43:44 pm
Why, pluto was the first World attacked.+1
Post by: Puppyguard on June 15, 2017, 10:29:33 pm
Post by: Blood_Librarian on June 15, 2017, 10:42:02 pm
Post by: NJW2000 on June 16, 2017, 10:32:51 am
Pluto, being the furthest from supply lines and the least fortified was attacked first.+1
Post by: Blood_Librarian on June 24, 2017, 12:20:47 am
“Rule 15: Only you can prevent friendly fire.”
The Seven Habits of Highly Effective Pirates, Eclipse Phase Rulebook
January 11th, 2129 AD, 26 GS
Tempest Pattern Shift Fighter “All She's Got” , Squad designation “Charlie fifteen” deployed from Experimental Carrier “The Burdens of the Republic”
“Air Control to Charlie Fifteen, you are cleared for deployment, may the stars light your path.”
Clunk
“Finally, after all the simulations, we can finally go out there and show what we are made of.”
“Hey, we’re an experiment, can’t give the faulty data, can we?”
“Of course…”
The fighter accelerated, the particle trail arching as it lifted “up” relative to the cockpits position, and giving clearance to the Carrier, it arched towards the enemy.
“T minus thirty seconds until we are within combat range.”
“I’ve been thinking lately, a lot.”
“I know, it echoes through the interface, not as often as an intelligent Yaerian though.”
“Oh, you wound me, whos the lucky new guy?”
“T minus fifteen seconds, We’re getting PD ballistics pointed at us.”
“Getting deflective now?”
The Fighter pulled a heavy, direct turn, followed by a series of intense evasive maneuvers ending in a flip that neatly placed the fighters weapons to bear.
The Phazon casters engaged, and six perfectly round balls of plasma the size of a fist collides violently against the buckling energy shielding of an escort ship.
The Phazon bolts were not nearly as effective in taking down the shields as the ship's main weapons, the equivalent of a Linear Rifle scaled to be a fighter weapon.
The fighter let off a burst of thrust, and avoided direct collision with the Escort ship, weaving through the projected firing lines with the precision of a gifted Pilot.
“You mean a pair of pilots.”
“Is it really that obvious?”
“Yes.”
The immensely powerful fusion engines that drove the fighter forward screamed as the ship arched, barely missing a stray round, and the Fighter was now in position to fire it’s weapons on the Escort craft hull plates.
The enemy ships shields buckled from the combined fire of both the fighter ship and the support ships in the distance, and it’s hull melted and evaporated as the Phazon bolts collided with the armor plates.
While Phazon weapons do little to energy shields, they are far more effective on unmolested plate metal.
A gyrojet shell collided with the Fighter's shields, and promptly exploded, tumbling the craft in an unstable trajectory.
In seconds, the ship was righted and a trajectory to bring it back into its optimal range was placed.
[DATA EXPOSITED, RELAYING AUDIO RECORDING TO MAINFRAME]
”The fleet escort, [FRAGMENT DELETED], all wings deploy! All hands prepare for evac--”
“By the stars… how are they doing this?”
The Phase Fighter was on a course directly towards an escort, it’s weapons firing out as fast as it could as the engines was pushed to their maximum red-line safety limits.
“This is a very bad idea!”
“Shush, it will work, the ship was built for this!”
Just as the enemies shields collapsed, the Fighter passed through the space it occupied, narrowly avoiding the messy process of being repelled by the degenerative and utterly chaotic powers of a Shield system, and phased out of existence.
For a split second, the physics afflicted upon the fighter changed drastically, and promptly shifted the fighter neatly through the escort ship without any notable resistance and “phasing out” safely in empty space, rotated a hundred and eighty degrees, with its weapons charging up for a second volley.
Yaerian Test-Bed carrier “Burdens of the Republic”
Bridge area, Command and Control Room.
“Chief, I’m picking up strange readings from the enemy titan ship.”
The Chief of the tactical data processing room gestured towards the ensigns console, and promptly brought a representation of it to his Pad.
“Those aren't the signatures of it’s gun getting ready to fire a high range bolt, good eye.”
“It looks... Kind of like it’s firing a glasser around."
“They… that's impossible, they're not aiming at the colony.”
“It matches that signature--”
The signatures briefly spiked to an incredible degree before lowering to the bewilderingly strange pattern, and then spiked again not five seconds later. Twenty five seconds too early.
“Auuh, stars above. The-- Our ECM vessels are reporting heavy damage-- They are targeting the destroyers!”
“I’m relaying this to the Admiral, Keep Tactical updated.”
Clever bastards.
It’s obvious that they don’t sit around with their thumbs in their asses, thats for sure.
The Admiral promptly keyed the Hyper-wave transmitter pointed to Central Command and spoke a few brief words.
“They are shifting their tactical dogma, We’re gonna lose this fight.”
He sat silent for a few seconds, noting how the tactical and navigation recordings supporting his few words flowed through the emitter.
“Our ECM won’t stop them anymore.”
January 2th, 2129 AD, 26 GS
GEO Orbit over Pluto NovoStrata Mega-Extractor™ 003
IIt was a small ship by all means, only about a hundred meters in length but unlike many of mankind's ships, it had a ship mounted weapon. Essentially The equivalent of a deck gun, stolen from a American Coalition Orbital Navy facility, it had all the precision of a pack of artillery with the power of an orbital bombardment.
The ship itself was of Asian origin, one of those under a corporate charter, that was at one point a cargo hauler, until it was promptly taken over by its mutinied crew.
In a deep stereotypical russian voice, the captain ordered the new main gun to fire.
Steel rain followed, landing on the extractor and all personnel onboard are immediately exterminated.
January 2th, 2129 AD, 26 GS
Gal’Yeigher, Capital City Pur-illum Secondary Water Treatment Plant
The Manager sat in his chair high in the scaffolding, watching as the Massive Charge Lance cannon was slowly brought to operational capacity.
He wondered how the stars damned void the Operator figured out that a water treatment can be converted into a silo for this weapon, and then laughed.
He was in the hall of mad men, why should he ask questions that can never be answered?
“The Fusion mass is down to forty percent, we can't keep this up.”
The “All She’s Got” phased through a Escort ship, the hull of the vessel warped and destroyed, the ship was dead in the water.
“We have too, you know this damn it!”
The fighter was in poor shape, it’s shields collapsed little over half a dozen times, and it had a chaotic emission field of shield entropy ranging three times the vessels length as its batteries were constantly on the threshold of failure
Its hull was pockmarked with dozens of scorch marks, dents and shears from the various ordinance that had been thrown at it
“We can get to a safe distance and head into cryonics, we’re not gonna survive otherwise.”
“I am not gonna abandon this fight!”
The fighter dodged and weaved, but it’s maneuvering thrusters had only two thirds of its optimal thrusting capabilities from past attack runs. A Gyrojet bolt hit hard and true, with a direct hit on the Fusion Engines left thrust nacelle, and ripped a good chunk of hull plate out, along with breaching a fuel tank, along with offlining dozens of subsystems..
With a wet snap, the pilot's left arm had been fractured against the side of a sharp piece of shrapnel from the vicious impact. He bit back a scream as his momentarily loss of concentration with the uplink had resulted with the craft only flying with half the mental capacity it needed to fly in its optimal state.
A Long-range Missile had collided with the underbelly of the craft, and the ship shuddered as the most critical electronic component of the ship was burnt and purged.
A blank, dull voice spoke.
“Warning. Battleframe Core unlinked, attempting pilot disconnect.”
The fighter was tumbling through the airspace now, for all intents and purposes as dead as as stone and as hot as leaking fusion reactor.
In the pilot's head, a flurry of half corrupted data was flying in every direction. The echoes of the dead intelligence was slamming into his head like bricks to a wall, and it was agony. The pilot was beginning to seize up, his body twitching from the overloading signals of the interface bleeding into the motor functions of the pilot's brain. The death cry of the Battleframe slammed into his body down to its very soul.
“Pilot Disconnect, WARNING: Ship disconnected! Recommending evacuation.”
The pilot opened his eyes, not seeing the great void of the stars, the burning ion trails of warships, or even feeling the burning agony as his hull was burnt and fragmented, as his shields were buckling and collapsing on the strain, or even his hands flinging bolts of pure destruction.
He saw a fuzzy holo screens , along with a manual avionics package, most of it blearing warnings. No window to the void, that would be too much of a risk.
His head was slammed into the wall from another impact on the ship.
The Cryopods glass casing began to form around him, forming an airtight seal, and activated with a burst of extremely cold gas.
He thanked the stars before he fell asleep.
“This isn’t the true story.”
“What?”
The Media Director looked confused, looking back from his digital pad and up to the Director of the Navy Technological advancements.
“I authorized the release of the events as it happened.”
“I made the story fit the narrative better.”
“I auth--
“I invested hundreds of thousands of credits on this multi-tiered Campaign just for his image. Holo-Vids, Books, “Games” -- the works. The Republic does not need to know he died hitting his head on a wall screaming for “her” to come back while he turned into a vegetable from the mental feedback of a destroyed link. I made him die in his sleep from a damaged cryopod, The truth would be worse for the republic.
“Don’t inflate his numbers, I want to hear that he destroyed eight escort ships, no more, no less.”
January 8th, 2129 AD, 26 GS
Gal’Yeigher, Orbit, Escapepod from terminated Spaceport.
Yaerian escape pods are complex machines with a simple set up. Three cryogenic pods, with a low-key Fission reactor powerful enough to power it along with the low-intensity shield for six years no less, no more. In the event that the power fails in the machine, a strong mix of soporifics is injected to the subject for a painless death, rather than the “buried in a coffin” asphyxiation death that many are afraid of.
When Kull’Seoul Wick’Tal entered the escape pod, she clearly didn’t expect to wake up to having no less than three alien rifles pointed at her in the hangar bay of a Unitarian Dreadnaught.
The bag placed over her head was more welcomed than the horrific mutilations that were perpetuated as rumors.
For the next hour (She thought it was an hour.) she was pushed, shoved and roughly handled through a complex maze of hallways, until she was pushed one final time into what some sort of semi-dark room (she could sort of see through the bag.) and left standing.
For a pungent few seconds she sat alone, and wondered if she could take off the bag when a voice -- very much roughened -- spoke.
“You just gonna stand there all day?”
Perhaps like a sheep, perhaps on her own initiative, she used her hands to take the bag off, and peered at her surroundings and the other individual in the room with her.
It appeared to be a detention center, judging from the spartan walls, with all the components of a cell: a strange toilet-like contraption, a sink, and a bed. Separating her from the other cells-- including one inhabited one was a metal wall that went up to the breast of a standard Unitarian, which was more stomach for a Yaerian, and going all the way with a presumably thick, rod-reinforced plexiglass. The guards had already left, presumably watching through cameras.
“Figures I get a Colonial as a room mate, judging from the fancy dress, you're some sort of administrator?”
“Aaah… Yes… Colonial Director of Gal’YeigherKull’Seoul Wick’Tal , at your service.”
The other occupant was scarred heavily, one of her hands simply missing while their face was covered with a hodgepodge of blue ichor, Yaerian Blood.
“Hmm. You out rank me, how in the stars did you let yourself get caught?”
“I was in my office in the space port when the general evacuation alarm sounded, I got to the escape pod designated to me and left. The Chief Engineer and the Director of Medical never arrived, so I was the only one in the pod.”
“And you woke up with some Unitarian rifles pointed at you, huh?”
“Yes.”
“They will torture you, by the by.”
“I figured… You ever thought of… washing your wounds?”
“Then they’ll club me some more, the big ones are very tribal about that sort of thing, Besides I think it makes the haughty short ones a bit disturbed.”
“Riight…”
Awkwardly, Wick’Tal sat on the bed, fiddling with their hands before suddenly searching in their pockets.
“I’m surprised they didn’t strip you down and give you the prison garb like with me.”
“They… left me with my gun?”
In the Director's hands was a Phazon pistol, a variant designed to be as small as possible while still keeping the mechanisms that stabilize the bolt of plasma, but the fusible chamber was missing.
“Took your ammo, so it ain’t worth a damn.”
Two Unitarian guards walked in, with royally crafted armor and elaborately engraved Gyrojet rifles, they typed a code into Wick’Tal’s cell, and stared expectantly at the occupant, almost beckoning her to come with them.
“What in the void? I never seen those types plated fucks, be careful.”
One guard turned his full-helm towards the other prisoner, and managed to accomplish a glare through his imposing helmet.
Wick’Tal stepped forward and followed the two Unitarians.
She sneaked glances of the hallway and the rooms of the ship as she followed the two in front of her, and noticing the two soldiers behind her. The hallways were just as stark. Likely mass produced sections of a ship combined with super-metallurgic processes to form one cohesive whole. An efficient but unimaginative production.
It wasn’t as long of a trek as the one to her brief visit in the cells, but she felt like she was heading to a different part of the ship. She passed no other crew members, which was unnerving to her on many levels.
Suddenly, the escort group entered the main corridor of the dreadnaught, and the decor changed drastically.
Expertly painted murals of various things became apparent on the bulkheads. They appeared in a similar pattern to their writing: bold and generally “solid” in look, showing geometric pictures of starships, in various states of combat damage. One “mural” in particular caught her eye. It was of a Unitarian Dreadnaught, hung over a small sphere, as the barrel glowed bright, a blade of a blue beam came out of the ship and appeared to glide towards the planet, giving the picture scene a look similar to that of a sword with a cross guard.
A light, but firm joint of the Unitarian guards limb brushed against her side, and she realized her wonder was too obvious.
She kept her head pointing forward, still taking glances of the Murals of the hall, noting how the quality of the work wasn’t the same either, it became more and more intricate and grand as the hallway stretched on.
A set of air-tight heavy blast doors opened, and they were in the bridge, and she briefly took in the scenes of the Dreadnaughts busy work staff.
A heavy turn to the right, with a firm push by the rear guard and she was in a room, that appears to be some sort of negotiation room.
It had two chairs, one of which was empty while the other, smaller chair was filled by a Unitarian, in a similar garb to the soldiers who had escorted her to the room.
The Unitarian was perhaps more robust than the others, for the fact that it was almost as tall as the admittedly short Wick’Tal, but with the stockiness one would expect from a decades worth of intensive training that any Yaerian would envy if they cared for such things.
It spoke briefly in its language, sounding almost reverent in her presence.
“Welcome to the Empresses Perpetual Domain, I trust the soldiers were not too much on you?” said the sitting Unitarian in the Yaerian Common Dialect.
It’s pronunciation was perfect, every single part of its sentence structure was perfect, except for the fact that it used the equivalent of “indeterminable” for the word Perpetual, which had confused Wick just as much as the fact that it spoke in her species langauge.
She recovered quickly, and shook her head while moving to sit down.
“We have many things to begin discussing.”
Seven pirate officers were in the bridge of the “Rancorous Raptor” self designated Battle Cruiser.
Two of which were on the floor, and only one of them was conscious, the other five each had their weapons out. It was a tense standoff, considering the fact that one of them was in power armor, the captain.
Will it devolve to a shoot out?
Spoiler: QM's Note (click to show/hide)
Edit: slight continuty date editting.
Post by: crazyabe on June 24, 2017, 01:50:56 am
Post by: NJW2000 on June 24, 2017, 12:33:59 pm
Slightly, It only two shots were fired in the end though.+1
Post by: Blood_Librarian on June 30, 2017, 10:56:19 pm
"We make our own luck, but I'll always be there when you need me."
The Smuggler and the Manager were in a small room, a bunker. The Operator was not physically present, but his likeness in a holo-representation sufficed.
The Operator spoke first, uncontested, unbalanced.
“The Gun has been finished.”
The Smuggler sighed, while the Manager stuttered for a couple seconds.
“This is a stupid plan.”
“We-we committed…”
“Think of the ship in the sky. The crafts that hover above our world and fires upon it without mercy. I already have some numbers, and the death-toll on our side are already in the billions.”
The smuggler grimaced as he spoke, “High command has fallen as well.”
“We- What!? I thought they were in a damn deep-bore bunker!”
“Didn’t stop them.”
“Regardless, we have to fire the gun on them.”
“I’ll say this and I’ll say it again; Their shields will just negate it and then all our work will be for nothing.”
“No. You are wrong. The analysts have informed me that they are not using their batteries.”
When Yaerian Ships are not in combat, the Shield Batteries are disconnected from the shields, instead of the chaotic energies directly siphoned out into the void instead of passing through the battery and damaging it over long periods of time, the Operator knew it was the same judging from the emission readings.
“I still don’t believe you. They can send legions of millions to die, I doubt they are scarce on the resources used for shield batteries, they can’t be.”
“What other choice do we have? The weapon is built.”
“We… we should fire it.”
Both looked upon the Manager for a moment, and the Smuggler nodded.
“Fine, fine. But we shoot down the big fat station, not the navy ship.”
“I highly doubt that the Titan ship is anything but unique. If we destroy that ship, I guarantee their long-term war effort will be more impacted than destroying the damned Mobile Hangar Bay.”
“Forward Apparatus one…”
“I don’t care, I want to see my homeworld have a chance against the enemy.”
“This world is already gone, it's a question of the rest of the Republic or not.
The Smuggler groaned while the Manager pulled out a Holopad from his pocket.
“I… I have another proposal on the equipment raids against the Unitarians, while we are here…”
January 2th, 2129 AD, 26 GS
GEO Orbit over Pluto NovoStrata Mega-Extractor™ 003
Rancorous Raptor Self-Designated Battle Cruiser.
The Captain of the ship frowned, inside his helmet visor.
“So it all comes down to this, then?”
“We’re not working for those fucking pigs anymore! Those rice fuckers should never be fucking trusted!”
“I always knew you were a fucking coward James,-- momma's boy.” said a loyalist.
“Eat a dick and die, I have the fucking gun!”
It was true, he was the only one with a gun out, for such weapons were forbidden in noncombat situations when inside a ship, even a pirates ship. It was pointed straight towards the dear captain, who was paranoid enough to have been wearing his Power Armor in the action above Pluto, although even he did not carry a gun. He did carry a knife, just like everyone else.
But most people expect a heavy anti-material round (from a pistol) to plated armor.
One of the conspirators licked his knife, before the captain spoke once more.
“Of course you do, what do you plan on doing once I give you those codes, poor James?”
“You fucking know, we have a damn cryo pod for a fucking reason! I get the codes, and then I get sent home on a free watch!"
“Oh, really?”
The Captain activated his wrist-mounted flamethrower, hidden underneath the armor plates, and James Mikahel was instantly scorched with a spray of hot, sticky napalm, along with his two conspirators.
His gun went off, and the bullet held slightly less than true. It dinged his shoulder pad, and reflected off, presumably to bounce itself out with the deck plates. The captain did not move his throwers aim a single inch as the other was dislocated from its socket.
By the time he pulled the trigger the second time, the gun was wildly off the mark, as the captain had begun strafing to the right, the stream of fire kicking the temperature of the room up heavily. All three were on the ground now, screaming as their flesh melted. The loyalist crew were running the hell away from the situation and into the halls, while the captain's voice echoes over the stream of fire.
He was laughing.
It was not a pleasant laugh, it was a laugh one would expect a Pirate King named Belial Hydrogen to have.
The bulkheads in the bridge sealed off, the manual emergency system jumped by a crew member who did not wish to roast to death in the captain's rage.
Cathedral class Greatship, “Empresses Perpetual Domain”
Gal’Yeigher orbit.
January 8th, 2129 AD, 26 GS
The commander of the vessel was short, but he answered to the whims of the Empresses Blood without question.
So it was he who was chosen over his entire career to be the commander of the Empresses Perpetual Domain.
He never questioned why a Yaerian was brought onto his ship earlier, and he never questioned when another was brought to the Empresses blood's own “floor”.
He never questioned the slightly elevated thermal signatures on the surface either, not until it was too late, and a bolt of metal the same dimensions of a utility pole slammed into the rear of his ship.
Alarm klaxons were immediately called as the bridge went into a flurry of activity for a split second before all power was disabled.
The ship's reactor was breached, and would soon detonate. Such was life when you used the phantasmic powers of a breach core.
Emergency power kicked in after only three seconds, and the general abandon ship klaxons activated.
Unitarians were not so wasteful as to expect their captains to die with their ships, but the captain of the Perpetual Domain wished they did.
The Yaerian named Wick’tal made a squeaking sound, almost like a rat being shoved into the bowl of a toilet as the ship shook, and the lights winked off.
The Empresses Blood lost concentration, and she carefully placed illusion over the Yaerians mind shattered, violently.
The Yaerian let out a blood-curdling scream before falling into a deep, and questionably inanimate coma.
The emergency lights came on, and the Guardian picked up the unconscious Yaerian in a bridal carry and calmly walked to the Bridge Escape shuttle.
She walked past the panicked bridge officers as they desperately tried to stave off the inevitable, and into the shuttle.
When all hope seemed lost for the magnificent ship she will invariably miss, the bridge crew joined her in the shuttle and left the soon to be hulk.
Just as she looked through the window, she saw a bright flash as both the Domains reactor detonated, and the Overmind was hit by “The Guns” Bolt, it’s shields reverberating and blowing a bright purple as the malevolent and chaotic energies of the Shield sloughed off the ship from denoted shield “radiators”. The Overmind did not suffer so much as a scratch upon its gleaming hull.
If she had her way, She would’ve effected much change onto the situation at hand.
The Yaerian stirred, and she did the Guardian equivalent of a smile.
How damaged was Wick’Tal?
Post by: crazyabe on July 01, 2017, 01:21:33 am
Post by: NJW2000 on July 01, 2017, 03:29:23 am
physically, they were fine other then a few light bruises, mentally they Suffered a rather large change to their Personality.+1
Not sure why, but I really enjoyed this update.
Post by: Blood_Librarian on July 03, 2017, 11:51:00 pm
“Commissar, I would like to see this city built up again. I would like to see towers and spires of gleaming white. I would like to see our men on parade routes, not tours of duty! I WOULD LIKE TO SEE EVERY CITY ON THIS PLANET, EVERY COLONY ON THIS BESOTTED, MISERABLE SYSTEM TURNED TO THE SERVICE AND INDUSTRY OF THE IMPERIUM IN THE EMPEROR'S NAME!”
—Vance “Motherfucking” Stubbs, Warhammer 40k, Dawn of War:Soul Storm.
Two walked into the small, arena-like room. Both looked at each other, one had his rifle out, standing on his heels and ready to move if it needed.
The other was far less Yaerian in build. It was an Atlas frame. It was vaguely similar to the Earth-bound Raptor with a bladed-tail and Talon equipped gripper hands. It's chest held a hideously complex set of equipment that allowed it to have a “personal” shield at its front and sides in addition to its SMES Battery.
They appraised each other for a moment before the Frame with a rifle snapped it's rifle and fired. Three of the four bolts of Phazon plasma collided with its shields, and simply dissipated away.
The experimental Atlas mech lunged forward and closed the gap with the other combatant. It moved its bladed tail to remove the other mechs head, but a rifle butt to its center of mass stopped it from reaching its goal, plunging it downward. The Raptor took this change in motion with stride and lunged underneath the enemy's side and sunk its claws into the enemy frame. The other combatants primary and backup core data cables were torn and the brain could no longer control its motor functions.
It fell like a rock, and the Atlas mech shields disengaged as it walked back to its boxy charger.
“Most impressive. How many shells could it take from a gyro jet gun?”
“Four, maybe five from the infantry standard before collapsing. It could take around ten Phazon bolts of equivalent power, however.”
“Somewhat disappointing.”
“That's if it doesn't get a chance to vent off the energy, I’ve had the liberty of placing vents along its entire body, so it could choose to deliver a concentrated blast of shield entropy to wherever it wants, and it could vent out its entire capacity in around five to eight seconds. The concentrated blast should only be used as a weapon since it's still just as slow and can corrode the used vents.
“Hmm, Make it work for infantry.”
The research director in the observation room sputtered at the Director's request.
Councillors. The siege of Gal’Yeigher marks a massive shift in Unitarian tactics that should change our entire stratagem. At least on Gal’Yeigher, they have not commenced mass orbital bombardment with the intent to sterilize the world. From what my sources have reported in, they have landed troops and began nothing less than conquering and subjugating the world. This situation has been trained and repeatedly put through the tactical simulacrum ever since the GraveMind War and its terrible loss. We have a chance now, it is highly likely they will do this to the rest of our worlds considering how much it has slowed their advance. If you have looked at the projections of both their estimated numbers and our territory loss with or without the terror bombings, it is invariably bleak but less bleak than before if they continue this path. We may lose this war, but we may yet live another day, presumably under the whip of an overlord if Special Projects fail to pan out.
I have a proposal. A very simple one.
We will create two sets of Frames, both with the same purpose, the same goals, but different methods.
The first of which are essentially battle frames, hidden away in all our worlds, to be ferreted out by either the second set of Frames or any resistance groups that discover them.
The second group of Frames will be a Autonomous Beta or even Alpha level Intelligence paired with mass fabricators and all the industrial equipment needed to feed themselves. They will go out to the stars, both close and far away, to prepare all the equipment and machines to fight another war. It will undoubtedly be a slow timeline, but even with our most conservative estimates, the machines could build hundreds of thousands of war machines in a century, and deploy them en masse.
The room was shocked into silence, simply gaping at the Yaerian before them, The War-Frame spoke first.
“You are proposing that we build a sum number of incredibly advanced AI’s, shackle them into a mobile forge and send them out to build an army?”
“Yes.”
“Pray tell, who would command this supposed legion when they are all but separated by vast distances?”
“Distances mean nothing with the new Quantum communication hub systems that the Navy Tech Director has shattered into existence.”
The Director looked slightly admonished. He sighed.
“You do realize they are the size of a destroyer and take the same amount of power, furthermore how did you even know of that black project?”
“Who said they had to carry one around, all they have to do is carry the linked particles in the cold storage, the rest of the equipment can be built on the site.”
“Again, still a significant amount of resources, and you didn't--”
The Director of the entire republic stood up and raised his hands.
“Enough. You will have your blueprints, engineers and yard time, but the raw materials you will have to come up with. We are stretched thin as it is.”
“That can be arranged.”
It-- her mind, was different. Her mind was alien, eldritch yet…
Familiar. They were not like a Brugs “mechanical” mind, or an En-Sen-pairs liquid … “decentralized” mind.
It was twisted, broken and weeping.
Unfortunately, the innate power of an Empresses Blood is hostile to the consensus of a stable mind when those who wield it is interrupted.
When the Empresses Domain had fallen prey to the bolt of metal, the Yaerians mind had collapsed much like what would happen if an enterprising individual shoved a metal rod into a jet engine. This was unusual, other species could survive such things with much less damage. Maybe she was unique.
The mind had been torn apart, perhaps similar to a plane crash or an Aquarium with shattered glass.
Piecing it together was a challenge that only the best could commit to without the dangers of “personality contamination”, one individual may copy or steal a psychological trait from the other, usually from Afflicted to Psionic.
The “psi” who had been a guest on the Empresses Perpetual Domain was a master at her work, few surpassed her and fewer had plied themselves for as long as her, Empress being the exception among a veiled and secret few.
In the seven hours it took for the shuttle to be rescued, she witnessed the Yaerians mind.
How she was born with a defect in her DNA, which cursed her with the ever present threat of hollowed, weak bones. Where she would be terrified of her fingers and toes breaking under tense conditions.
How she applied her mind to the Yaerian Republic, in both the professions of Social Engineering and Digital networking.
She could set up an entire holo-site like no one else, she was real proud of that.
Her skill in her professions had scorned higher ups that assigned her to become something she never really had much taste for, a Local Director of the planet Gal’Yeigher.
It was dull work compared to what she had before, and she much preferred her home, A Planet of the Tri-sector, Slerannica.
She was commonly caught sleeping in an office chair, right next to her “holo-interface” when people needed her.
She was a burden, most of the time, and that only affected her negatively.
Wick’Tal Regretted many things in her life, most particularly what she could have been.
It lost its luster, for the most part.
She lifted the broken Yaerian up from the shuttle, and into Overmind class Hangarship, moving to a simple and quiet room, a tool storage room. It held a single bed, unset and likely used the previous day. It would do.
Outside the door, a worker was directed away from his quarters despite his protests of a long day, put aside like trash.
The Psionic took the pieces of a broken mind, shattered by her own hands, and put it together.
Not as it was, but what it could have been.
The Yaerian stirred, its eye-- her eyes opening wide and fully awake. It sat upright frighteningly fast and turned to one of the two other occupants in the room.
The Empresses Blood, A Guardian, smiled.
She stood confidently, crossing her arms as she spoke.
“Who are you?”
“We have much to discuss, Wick’Tal. My name may not be one of them.”
The Guardian stood from her chair and nodded to the Marine in the room, who promptly took his leave.
Three worlds have been sieged by the Unitarian Empire. Thirteen worlds have been burnt, sterilized and destroyed. Hear the call of the Yaerian Navy, of the Yaerian military forces.
Fight against your species extinction. Enlist.
A Rampart class Battleframe stirred.
It was simple in make, its charge Lance in a rifle configuration, able to fire once every three seconds with a twenty-five round "burst" before requiring its heat sinks to catch up to the thermal demand. A far cry from the most advanced models, but it’s two lances were for a purpose beyond all recompensation.
It walked forward, its Yaerian Masters giving it directive.
It was an anti-riot model before its weapons were reconfigured and its armor plates replaced.
It was a gunmetal gray, with a flat metal sheen. It was but a far cry from its previous look of the sterile white plastic-like plate, less of an art piece.
Its objective was to defend a choke point along with two windows that can be entered from the roof.
Just as it entered into position, Yaerian soldiers moved away, and it's guns roared.
Does the Rancorous Raptor enter an engagement with Mars Navy forces?
Post by: NJW2000 on July 04, 2017, 09:46:15 am
Post by: Blood_Librarian on July 07, 2017, 08:07:12 pm
Post by: Blood_Librarian on July 16, 2017, 12:11:10 am
"We stared into the Abyss, one-one. And now the Abyss staring is right back. Pissed."
Mass Effect: The New Face of War: Chapter 48
—Sigma Joseph Ducard S1-15
January 11th, 2129 AD, 26 GS
Experimental Carrier “Burdens of the Republic”
Bridge area, Command and Control Room.
“They are shifting their tactical dogma, We’re gonna lose this fight.”
Admiral Hanir-Dures Annul-Yeloor sat silent for a few seconds, noting how the tactical and navigation recordings supporting his few words flowed through the emitter.
“Our ECM won’t stop them anymore.”
It was a genius tactic that he had came up with himself several engagements with the enemy past, the way that each and every single destroyer and above class vessel emitted a long range EM signature that matched the largest vessels of the fleet, effectively denying them the ability to destroy the largest vessels of the fleet from stupendous distances without the decisive time required for Yaerian fleets to jump straight into the enemies knife ranges and bring them down to a more level playing field.
As twenty-three of his vessels blew apart from their insanely long range weaponry, he noted just how the energy signatures of the enemies long range kinetic kill vehicles were both of an entirely different configuration as well as only a third of their original size.
The Captain spoke, her words simple and reverent at the numbers game that was to come,“Navigator one, ready yourself for the jump.”
For a minute and a half, the ship had shunted itself to the Hyperwarp dimension. The sensors were quiet, only enigmatic ghosts pinging off ship scanners as it went incomprehensible speeds towards the enemy.
Admiral Annul wondered if this was his time. If he would be to die here, as a hero.
All at once, sensor equipment shunted themselves off as the ship's hull bounced off utterly cataclysmic energies away, as it seeped away from the unreality and towards its home dimension.
“We are receiving heavy fire, portside!”
Already, the bridge was in full gear as the captains many subordinates echoed his command, his holy gospel to the ship. The Admiral felt the subtle tremor as the ship began a slightly disorientating roll, showing new plate while the compromised “metal” would be hidden away as it regenerated.
The plan was already a failure, as he did not account for the fifteen frigates, and twenty-six cruisers he had lost in the enemies long range strike.
“Captain, send out the Voidcraft out now, we cannot afford to wait.”
“By your Command, Sir.”
Just as bridge once flowed like a stream, it was now a torrenting almost chaotic river of activity. Bridge staff coordinated with every ship; Corvettes, frigates, destroyers, Cruisers along with their bigger brothers the Battle Cruisers, and even the two escorting Dreadnaughts of the Fleet.
They were most tested by the veritable swarm of tiny, tiny war machines that the Carrier itself held in its deep hangars.
The Untested but undeniably dangerous Bomber, and the agile but experimental Fighter.
Hundred of flights of metal and plastic flew out of the Carrier, The automated process of assembling a craft and sending it out repeated over a thousand times in a thousand separate launchers.
The legendary and glorious “knife-range” combat against the enemy began just as soon as the Admirals words echoed throughout the entire fleet.
“All ships engage. Leave none of them alive.”
Admiral Annul Yuloor was a crafty, clever and outright dangerous admiral, simultaneously managing both the tiny flights of fighters and bombers and coordinating the massive war machines that heralded the battle field.
For a comparison of fleet strength, The Yaerian fleet was mostly Cruisers and destroyers, with around ten Battle Cruisers as well as the two dreadnaughts and the single carrier among, totaling with around 175 ships.
Two thousand fighters burned ahead, to meet the endless escort fleet that the Unitarian Empire had deployed ahead of it’s famed Titans.
Frigates and Destroyers burned behind them, each of them following their purpose as every single one of their point defense guns shielded the fighters from what would’ve been their dooms.
They did not meet the enemy without losses, thirteen of his frigates had been lost, as well as dozens of fighters to their pinpoint interceptor missiles and ad-hoc point defense lasers that were designed for missiles, not tiny void-craft.
The Admiral suppressed a grin as the scopes reported enemy casualties.
Already the numbers game was starting to point into his favor, as a full sixth of the enemy escort fleet had been destroyed.
They were ripped apart by the more agile fighters, like a pack of wolves taking down superior prey.
Just as the Titans moved into close range, the escorts moved in a strange pattern, the Admiral of the enemy fleet had sent out enigma--
At once, the four titans fired, and a massive toroidal wave of raw energy slammed into both his many fighter-bomber vessels and unlucky escort vessels which had not completed the enemy admirals orders to the letter.
He had just lost a third of his fighter craft in a trap. A clever, sneaky trap that was made up on the fly. The Admiral knew the enemy would win now. He ordered all flights, the reserved and the prototyped tempests to flee from his doomed ship.
The venerable Cruisers had entered the fight, their massive deck guns slamming spines of semi-molten metal into the enemy ships, burning desperately to their damned Titans.
The Titans had recovered from their shot to clear the fighters and were once again firing on his main fleet. Dozens of his own ships had fallen to their blows. The men and women who had served the Consolidated Yaerian Republic had died under his command would never be forgotten, if the Admiral had his demands met in this war.
The Bridge crew were panicking now, as one of the titans had managed to get a lock on his ship. A lucky guess, as the fleet that had stayed behind him were giving off the same signal as the Carrier.
Evasive maneuvers were attempted as the Reaction Control Systems thrusters flared to life. Emergency overrides demanded that every single one of them which was in the position to do so fire off, until they could do so no more, or they were ordered to stop.
The hull groaned as the structure was stressed from the sudden national effort to move the ship away, to dodge the cleansing death that was coming towards it. Warning signs came from the superstructure, the smart materials outright demanding that the stress which was threatening to tear it apart be stopped, for grave danger was imminent.
“Turn off the Override for the RCS! You’ll kill us all if the structure snaps from the enemy fire!”
“We will be dead anyways if the shot hits us, and you know it!”
In the split second that the Captain disobeyed the Admirals mandate, One of the enemy Titans, known to only the enemy as the “Barrg’Gals Redemption” had fired a single meteor cannon bolt, while it was severely underpowered due to the rapid fire mechanisms activated by the Dreadnaught to take out multiple lesser targets, it still slammed into the Burden of the Republic, breaking its shield after two seconds of being held off by the vessels impressive shield batteries before slamming into the craft with the force of a angry, but puny god.
The entire port side of the Carrier erupted in an explosion of molten metal, corpses and escaping air.
The Bridge, although one of the most reinforced and secure points in the entire ship, was gifted a manufacturing defect in its hasted construction at the start of the war.
What should’ve happened when the utterly lethal heat waves echo throughout the ship. The Bridge area, although close to the blast, should not have conducted any of the heat, surviving structurally while all occupants of the bridge would continue their duty.
The wave of heat from the blast slammed through the hull and the bulkheads, even as they dropped to stop their encroachment, but exposed cables and pipings, left exposed to the hallway had conducted enough of the heat to accidentally spill it through the entire section of the ship, including the bridge.
Only the bridge was the area that held air, as it suddenly spiked up, in under thirty seconds the air in the bridge was hot enough to boil water, and in three minutes, hot enough to melt lead.
The entire bridge staff was killed in action with no exception as the bulkheads had sealed down to prevent the monstrous heat from spreading to the rest of the ship.
With a rigid groan, The already strained Superstructure cracked. Had it been broken in half, the ships reactor would inevitably detonate, and the ship would be flotsam. As it was, internal explosions rocked the ship, and the ship was hulked.
As the Rancorous raptor had burned to Mars, to pick up supplies for a long-term hideout, ti had run straight into the trap set by the admiral of the Mars Navy.
The slow, unwieldy ships of humanity were simply not designed for fast paced space combat, and the Rancorous Raptor simply drifted to the enemy, its nuclear armament launched towards the enemy as well as its railguns firing metal bolts as fast as it could
Before it was able to charge its warp drive, it was incredibly damaged and was forced to retreat. Sensors have detected signals that the ship may have collapsed and fallen apart mid-warp.
Four crewmen were running down the hallway. Two was bloodied, they had slammed against the bulkhead when the ship had be damaged by the enemies overwhelming firepower. One had a broken arm, he was not long to live due to the heavy leak of blood from his shoulder.
Just as they passed the bulkhead that had separated the sections of the ship in the corridor, it slammed down.
Only the frontmost bloodied Yaerian had escaped relatively unharmed. One unlucky Yaerian had the bulkhead slam directly down upon him, the metal door unyielding in its approach to the ground as the Yaerian popped like a ripe melon as ropey intestines and other viscera sprayed his blue ichor in both directions of the hall. The other Yaerian that had been impacted by the door merely lost his hand, but managed to escape the inferno coming down the hallway.
The Yaerian with a broken arm pitifully slammed his functioning arm on the door way for a moment before he was charbroiled by the heatwave that had arrived.
The two survivors simply kept beating feet, running away towards the designated survival stations.
The Burdens of the Republic was recovered after reinforcements had arrived, only thirteen percent of the crew had survived, not including the void craft detail.
Although the Ship itself was sent to the Ship-breakers, The design was cemented as a viable stratagem, and three more similar vessels, of different designs, had been placed into the dockyards.
Their sacrifice will not be in vain.
The Yaerian that had taken the centermost stage of the video was frail looking, tall and with a muted, light cyan color. She spoke with a conviction in her voice, clear and so unlike her recent self.
Kull’Seoul Wick’Tal spoke through a Unitarian digital feed, broadcasted in as many places as possible in the Yaerian standard Digital format. A relatively massive proportion of the Consolidated Yaerian Republic heard her through the vast emptiness of space.
“Yaerians. Yaerians of the Consolidated Yaerian Republic. My fellow Yaerians dug into the trenches of a hopeless war and in the hive-cities of our great worlds. How far we have come.
It wasn't possible, but she managed to look taller and grander as the screen zoomed outwards, just as two Guardian Marines came into view. She looked regal in her grand robes, of alien, Unitarian make.
She raised her hands, spreading them out as if to show her vast, new found domain among the Unitarian Empire.
“We will inevitably fall apart, not unless we receive the guiding hands of the Empress.
During her last sentence, it had shown world's, purged by the Blight of the Gravemind.
Look upon our worlds, see the grand machinum that we have built with only our own, and think, the virtue of unity. The UNitarian Empire, the vast coalition, alliance and united species all under the guiding hands of the Empress for everyone and anyone that provides for the Empire.
It shifted again, showing video of the grand, worlds of the Yaerian Empire. The Trisectors vast industrialized Factorums that stretched across three entire planets, Garden worlds, even the very home world of Strall.
As the holovid continued its message, many Yaerians would inevitably become disillusioned from the state of the war by the stars damned propaganda campaign that the enemy had begun.
A Special project is nearing completion, but the question is, will it be for the navy, or for something else?
Spoiler: QM’s Note(!) (click to show/hide)
Post by: NJW2000 on July 16, 2017, 07:29:07 am
I'm not sure where would be best on this forum: "creative projects" is definitely better for feedback, but is not very well-frequented. The fanfiction site you linked to would probably be better in terms of criticism, editing, support, all that, but you aren't basing this on anyone else's universe, so it might not be appropriate. Still, I'd have a look around it if I were you, and see if there might be somewhere that people can post their own stuff. Spacebattles seems very appropriate, and I'm sure they'd be friendly towards someone capable of this kind of writing.
Regarding the actual story, I'd agree that structure and planning would help. I enjoy the series of vignettes right now, but the only really cohesive element is "Yaerians fight Unitarians". That's partly ok, because that's what huge spacewars are like, but people might prefer more of a structure, more stuff linking the chapters together.
Finally, something you don't seem to have considered is posting the same stuff on more than one site. This would require slightly more management, but would expose you to a far greater audience. While it might restrict the formatting and italics, the really important stuff (the writing) could be carried over from one site to another instantly. You'd probably be exposed to a fair bit more criticism doing this.
Post by: Blood_Librarian on August 02, 2017, 09:57:28 am