STGOD 4 Game Thread

[Bugsby]

Yrf Ztal had been planted on Manasa IV almost two months ago under personal order of Adar Krell. Krell had seen the maneuverings of the Veithans in that area and had sent Yrf in as an advanced scout, both to gather intelligence and serve as an advance operative if any action should be needed in the system. It was a good thing, too. As soon as Faran Tor confirmed the contract with Major Vreling, Yrf had received a direct order from Krell to assassinate the King of Manasa.

Yrf smiled grimly as he read his order from Krell over again, then formated the data chip on which he had received the order and burned the chip. He knew the protocols well. From this point on he ran silent, and carried nothing with him to identify himself as a member of the Combine. Since the Combine employed members from all worlds, there would be nothing to link Yrf back to the Combine if he were caught. Not that it mattered anyway. First, the Combine was neutral in galactic affairs. The clients would be held responsible for anything that happened. And second, he would never be caught. He had performed twelve succesfull assasinations in his long career and had only been in danger of failing twice. He pulled his hood low over his head as he walked out into the streets of Manasa City, the rushing wind bringing the sounds of ringing church bells. This would take some planning, of course. But within a week, the Manasan king would be dead.

[Thirdfain]

Edean System
Ouster Occupied Region, Covenant of God Territory

The unidentified fleet had entered the region only minutes ago. The alien craft were immediatly identified as belonging to the strange race which had interrupted the 3rd War Cluster over Belarus only weeks before. Now, the vessels had the audacity to infringe on Ouster territory, landing on an Ouster-monitored world in a system slated for Ouster colonization.

Hajr warships from the 3rd War Cluster, which still lurked in-system, approached the alien craft as they gathered around the quarantined ringworld.

<< This is the Warship of the Hajr Resolution Through Force to alien craft. You are infringeing on territory slated for the Diaspora without Hajr permission. Stand your craft down immediatly or face deadly force. >>

The 2cnd Cruiser Swarm was already in position near the alien fleet. The rest of the 3rd War Cluster was in system, and if the situation called, could be on station in minutes.

[Marcao]

Manasan Space
Manasa IV, Government Palace

Avery was aware of every passing moment, but he did not allow himself to feel irritation at his apparent hyper-awareness. One could not rush fate, and he of all people understood that planning was half the battle. He had spent a considerable amount of time with the chief of security of the Manasan ruler, the technology that the Manasans employed was adequate even if it was well behind what he was used to. Manasa was a minor nation, and even though the internal security and monitoring systems of the government palace were the best the nation could provide, it was far from perfect. It was there where he had come in, or more precisely his nation had come in. The beauty of having embassies in a world such as Manasa was that it allowed for preparation otherwise impossible; the events that would transpire had been foreseen long in advance by the eyes of the black tower. No plan was perfect naturally, but with his presence here his nation tried to stack the deck in its favor.

Although he was one of the most obvious of the Veithan responses, he was not the only one. Even now, half a dozen information analysts were setting up various enhancements to the palace’s internal defenses. It was the prudent thing to do, and while modernizing the entire building was impossible on their time frame the surprises which they added would certainly be an unwelcome sight to the unwary. The broadcast area that the ruler of the Manasans would employ when he announced to his people their new future was located deep beneath the palace. The Manasans were not fools, and beneath the seat of their government laid a series of bunkers designed to survive anything but the most dedicated of planetary bombardments. It was beneath the palace were the bulk of the Veithan defenses would be placed. It was there, in an armored womb surrounded by his own honor guard and Veithan irregulars that the current ruler of Manasa would make history.

His steps carried him gracefully towards the room in his right, a pair of honor guards nodding to him before they opened the doors which led to the ruler’s current chambers. His stealth suit reduced the sound of his passage to a whisper, sound muffled as if he were little more than a ghost. His head turned, eyes seeking the man that he had been tasked with protecting. When he was found, he approached his lips parting as the words tumbled from his lips. “It won’t be long your highness. My people are in position, the gifts I brought have nearly all been placed and the supplementary forces will soon be aligned.” He went silent, watching the ruler of the Manasans consider his words before offering a reply. “I see. I am ready, although I still feel compelled to wonder why your nation’s terms were so generous Mr. Cook. I admit that the Empire has not been a bad neighbor since our last accord. Nonetheless, the terms are…far more generous than I had expected.”

He nearly smiled, a deep breath taken before he responded to the Manasan’s doubts plainly. “You are a King, and as such your hesitation to trust my nation’s intentions is perfectly understandable. I am not a diplomat, but I expect that the terms are generous because the Empire can afford to be. The galaxy has changed in the last weeks, I am certain that you know that as well as anyone. Simply because we are the Veithan Empire, does not mean that we must behave like a group of armed thugs, annexing and conquering everything we see. The strengthening of ties between our nations makes sense, strategically and economically. In a military sense, by assisting in your defense we secure our own immediate borders. Economically, both our nations stand to gain by increased trade.” He paused, listening to his own words for a moment before he continued. “In the end, it is more sensible to have you as allies than enemies and occupations have a habit for getting out of hand. It is something that the Arcane Empire and others seem to have forgotten.”

The Manasan ruler listened quietly, his head tilting slightly towards his right and glancing at one of his guards. He was by now well aware that the royal guards were either telepaths themselves or utilizing some technology that made influencing them difficult. He supposed that it would be possible to break through their defenses if he applied himself enough, perhaps even if he activated his micro-gestalt but those thoughts were mere conjecture. They were his allies at the moment, and he did not plan on squandering them. The royal guard nodded his head, the ruler relaxing slowly before nodding. “Very well. I am ready to proceed.” Avery nodded, his mind reaching out and making contact with the two dozen minds that represented the Veithan covert response to the possibility of an attempted military coup. “My people are ready your highness.”

The King stood from his seat and was immediately flanked by his guards, his eyes watching those of Avery for a moment before he glanced to the honor guard on his left. The guard nodded and walked away, the King’s words straight to the point. “And so it begins. Within the hour, the fate of my nation and your own will be intertwined Mr. Cook.” The King took a deep breath and began to walk, Avery followed by his side. They would head towards an elevator which would take them to the complex below. Over a hundred meters beneath them, half a dozen power armored troopers wearing the black and red of Veitha took position. They understood their role, and if they were needed they would be ready. Moments later, the outer perimeter of the government palace began to be actively monitored and troops began to discretely be repositioned. It was a move sure to attract attention, especially to those that were intimately aware of such activities and what they could represent.

[Captain tycho]

To Resolution Through Force
We shall pull out immediately, if you wish. But when we landed we saw no evidence of your occupation, simply abandoned factories..

The fleet began to move out, teleporting up the last remaining automatons on the surface. The 13 had decreed to begin a broader range of militrization, once the war like attitudes of the nearby species became clearer. After a few moments, the fleet leapt into FTL, heading out of system and into empty space.

[Thirdfain]

Edean System
Ouster Occupied Region, Covenant of God Territory

<< Perhaps you have no comprehension, fools. This region is ours. You are infringeing on a world we have marked as untouchable. This system is ours, and our vessels patrol it. You have no claim.>>

The rest of the War Cluster was closing at FTL speeds now, Kincaid drives straining. Over these short distances, they would easily catch the invading vessels.

<< This is your last warning. Stand down.>>

Targetting sensors reached out and kissed the nearest alien vessel. Gun ports were open.

[frigidmagi]

A young man sat down in his chair facing various recording equipment. He had short cut dark hair, dark eyes danced with excitment. His voice fluctuated up and down grabbing the attention of the viewer.

"GggOooOooDdd Morning LastPort! Did you have fun last night? I know you did, I must have drank with half of you! If it wasn't for QuickWake pills we all be hosed. But hey, you're here for the news right?

"Well we got good news and bad news. Good news is several powers have accepted the Lord Protector's inviation to estblish relations! Let me thank any of the ambassadors and staff watching this program and offer some advice, you don't have to be crazy to live here, but it helps! Also good news for those of you relatives on unshielded worlds, our Lord Protector has announced that plantery shields have moved to the front of the line in federal spending. Of course that leads us to other objects in the expanding budget. All shipyards are reactivated to full status has the Navy has announced a expansion program to increase ship levels. The ground forces have also announced an expansion programs. So kids expect a call from your enlistment office soon!"

"Well I know your wondering what's the bad news? Well with all the new spending it's going to be an increase in taxes and such. You know that going suck!"

[Bugsby]

Yrf Ztal cursed to himself repeatedly as he sat in the shadows outside the palace complex. He had anticipated having more itme, but just this morning it had been announced that the King would be making a grand announcement. There was no doubt that this was the declaration of alliance that he had been sent to prevent. The speech was going to be broadcast in a little over two hours. Plan A and Plan B were now useless. He had to attempt the infiltration. This was his specialty, but he hated having to do it. He checked his personal stash of tools and armaments secreted away at different points on his body, all ready for quick access. Most importantly, he checked the small devices on his fingertips. Once activated, these would stick to any surface. Although they could slide along that surface, he could not lift his fingers. A great tool for infiltrations.

Ztal took a deep breath and pulled his cloak close around him. While not as advanced as some stealth suits, it was still good enough to prevent being sighted at a casual glance. It was time. The main enterance to the palace stood right in front of him, sloping walls rising gradually towards magestic towers and spires. There were six enterances around the palace, he knew, and countless windows to slp through. Yet Ztal considered the windows too risky. His target was underground, and the higher up he made his entrance, the farther down he would have to move unseen. Time to start a ruckus.

Yrf Ztal pulled two small orbs from his pocket, activated them, and hurled them across the main entrance. He was on the left side, the orbs landed on the right. A second later, a massive explosion rocked the imperial square. The guards at the main gate all turned to the explosion, bringing weapons to bear. Silent alarms went off throughout the palace, and more guards came streaming towards the front entrance. There was no one there to find.

As soon as Yrf Ztal had thrown the grenades, he had touched the side of the palace with his fingers, stuck, and began to climb. Once he had gotten about twenty yards above street level, he turned sideways and began to run. His feet, unmodified, thudded against the stone surface of the building as his hands stooped close to the surface of the building, keeping him connected. As guards reacted below him, he ran along the walls until he came to another, secondary entrance. His patrols there previously had reported 6 guards, but only 4 were present now. The other two had been drawn by the blast. He positioned himself directly above the gate, the guards' position in relation to the wall left him slightly behind them. He deactivated his finger pads, fell, and landed silently behind the guards, a blade already in each hand. He quickly slit the throats of two of the guards. The other two turned. Yrf Ztal made a quick move fowards and to the side, in one motion throwing a blade and kicking out at the other guard's gun. Half a second after the attack had begun, 3 of the guards were dead, and the last one was unarmed and in shock. Yrf Ztal slid behind the last guard, grabbed his head, and with a quick motion snapped his neck. The final guard fell lifeless. Yrf Ztal picked up his missing blade, and retrieved a commset from one of the guards, placing it in his ear. His head was filled with the babble of guards on security comms. All were reporting the disturbance at the gate, his side attack had gone unnoticed.

"Moving the King down to sublevel 7 to remain there until the speech begins. Avery Cook escorting. Looks like this was just a false alarm, though. Havnt seen any movement since the bombs went off. Probably a terrorist with bad aim." Laughter responded to that, and even Yrf allowed himself a smile, but for an entirely different reason. Reactivating his finger pads, he climbed to the top of the wall, 12 feet above the ground. In the dimly lit passageway with his stealth cloak on, he would be very hard to spot if he moved fast. And he needed to move fast. He sped along the walls of the palace, heading towards the deck of lifts that could take him below to where the King was apparently waiting. Grim determination had taken over every other aspect of his being.

He was in.

[Marcao]

Manasan Space
Manasa IV, Government Palace

They reached the elevator within one hundred and seventeen seconds of seeking it, it was the primary way of getting into the sub-levels that made up the government bunkers. It took a few minutes for the elevator to crawl its way down the shaft, but it did eventually reach its destination. The King and his escort exited followed by Avery himself. Once at the bottom, the elevator was disabled as a security precaution. For a moment, it seemed as if all was well it was then that he felt a mental presence brush against his mind, thoughts exchanged discretely. ~Avery, there have been explosions outside of the building. The Manasan forces think that it was a false alarm, but I have my doubts. Four security officers are no longer reporting in, in my estimation we have an agent or agents within the building.~

Avery did not hesitate, he knew what had to be done. ~I see. We will work under the premise that there is someone or a group of people in the palace proper. Execute plan able, monitor the new additions installed to the network that was in place and tell me what you see. I will deal with any intruders.~ There was only a breath’s hesitation before a response. ~Confirmed Avery, switching to plan able we will keep you informed.~ His head turned and he glanced towards the King as they walked down towards the transmission room. As they walked, they passed several stations where the relatively thin halls were guarded by Veithan powered armor. “Your Highness, the palace may be under an attempted infiltration. I will leave you with your body guards as I take steps to deal with these threats. I have told my people to begin a process of misinformation among your own loyal troops. They do not need to know exactly where you will be, and it is possible that their communication systems may be tapped.” The King watched him for a moment but nodded. They had already had a discussion about his role in all of this, and the King understood that Avery was a firm believer in offensive actions for a defensive goal. Besides, he could return to his side quickly enough. He had made arrangements for that.

He walked back towards the elevator, his mind mentally activating the full extent of his stealth suit abilities. The Dark Cloak about his shoulders used a combination of quantum optics to literally bend light around him and in doing so, played merry hell with most EM sensing devices. In concert with the noise-canceling abilities of his suit, he had become a shadow. His mind widened and expanded blossoming like a morning sun. He was a prime, and he sought his enemy not merely with his senses and sensors, but with his mind. His hands moved, both his pistols sliding to his hands in a familiar fashion. Each hybrid pistol held within twenty shots of anti-matter ammunition. More than enough to kill just about anything that moved. The elevator was disabled, but he had no plans on using it. He came to a stop, concentrating for a moment as he sought a certain spot. Once it was found, he willed himself there and his mind did the rest of the work. Now that he was no longer near the King, he was the hunter.

Manasan Space
Manasa IV

The HAU was immediately aware when the ball began to roll, its sensor system far more capable than any the Manasan army currently fielded. The sensor suite at its disposal was as potent as those found in naval warships, although it possessed only a fraction of the range. It had discretely monitored Manasan transmissions a way to pass the time and better react to the fluid situation that it expected. The Government Palace had been locked down, and loyalist forces to the King were actively patrolling it. There were explosions near the palace, the radio chatter that followed met with a fair amount of skepticism. Nonetheless, the palace was not its concern. Its current location placed it between two major Manasan army bases, and it was believed that these two bases were led by rogue elements within the military.

At the moment, loyalist armor was moving to predetermined positions designed to block out access to the government palace. It took less than ten minutes for the rogue forces to appear on its screens, the convoy moved in military formation towards the government palace. So far, the unit counts were well within the predicted numbers and their actions had remained within the predicted framework. Nonetheless, a communication channel was opened as the information was shared with the loyalist forces. “The rogue elements are moving, estimating battalion strength of tanks and armored forces. Current heading and speed as follows. I am moving into position to support and if necessary engage.”

The HAU began to move, utilizing its anti-grav drives to good effect as it lifted itself off the ground enough to leave its insertion point without plowing through the local forest. After it was freed from the constraints of the forest, it moved into a selected path that should keep it out of the public eye. His course would take him parallel to the loyalist line which was forming, and allow it to shower the rogue elements with indirect fire without the need of showing itself. If worse came to worse however, its orders were to engage the rogue forces directly. Assault Units were psychological tools as much as tools for war, and while their firepower was certainly impressive it was their resilience that was their most appealing quality. It took roughly fourteen minutes and thirty seven seconds for the Peace of the Gun to realign itself and come to a hovering rest in its chosen location. “I am in position. I will engage when granted clearance to do so.” This was a Manasan affair, and it had been decided that a Manasan would tell it when to engage. The probability that a peaceful solution could be worked out between the loyalist and rogue forces were slim, but not zero. Until then, the HAU waited. Its weapons fully charged and passive sensors aware.

[InnocentBystander]

The hour had finally arrived, the Gladsheim diplomat, Duke Nethington, Captain Horton speaking on behalf of the Nashtar Republic and the nameless elf representing the Arcanian Empire. Tacer Drealaan had returned to the Infallible for his rest and was now back and ready to begin, proper refreshments had been provided. The room had been completely changed in the twenty some hours since the first meeting, the holosuite had been removed and the conference room expanded. The table now stretched the length of the room, with the podium in front of the wide window. The cold metal table had been replaced with a smooth black stone table, though the resizing chairs remained, they were, Drealaan had to admit, a good idea. In front of each representative there was a small computer interface, it was simple and easy to use, it held a record of the information given to the representatives a day earlier, a log of the meeting, and important contact information.

Drealaan stepped up to the podium and began, “I am glad you all decided to return, I’d like to begin this diplomatic conference with an offer each of your nations a star map of Baeloaren Space. The Baeloaren Commonwealth does not desire to remain in obscurity, in hopes that trade routes may be established between our peoples. None of you are at liberty to give out your star maps, but it is, of course understandable.” Drealaan wasted no time in moving to the next topic. “As part of our non-isolationist stance on galactic affairs the Baeloaren Commonwealth would like to place official embassies in each of your territories to help further diplomatic relations. In return, the Homeworld Senate wishes each of your governments to add a permanent embassy on our homeworld in a newly built archology.” Drealaan paused, awaiting the responses of each diplomat.

[Bugsby]

So far so good.

Yrt Ztal slid along the top corners of the palace passageways, his mind focused inwards. He was doing his best to utilize his neural implants. This seemed to him to be the wisest course of action. He would encounter Veithans, he was sure, and did not want to be caught mentally unawares.

The enhanced situational awareness that came from his implants helped as well. He detected the security systems long before he was within range of their fields. He crouched in a corner, feeling out the path that the sensor grid followed. In a minute, he had it. Just as he suspected. The sensor net was heavily biased towaards the ground. Anything walking along would trip the maze of laser sights locatd as high as 9 feet off the ground. High on the wall, he was well above that. Still maintaining caution, he slipped around one camera, over a sensor grid, and continued down the hall. Several yards down was a similar detection array. Yrt slid past that in the same manner, and continued his rapid progress inwards. Judging by the symetrical layout of the palace, with multiple fronts, the most logical place to keep the lifts wold be in the center of the palace. The location he had in mind was through several walls, but still dead ahead of him about 100 yards to the front.

Yrt stopped for a second and allowed himself to sink into the recesses of his mind. He sensed a group of guards up ahead at about the area that he suspected the lifts were at. That made sense. Guards at the lift. He continued to probe....

His head reeled as he detected an immensly strong psychic presence elsewhere within the palace, the strongest he had ever felt. It was immediately apparent that this was a Veithan, and a strong Veithan at that. The mental signature was coming from far down below. Yrt supressed his curiosity and did not try to probe the Veithan directly. That would lead to instant detection. He gasped as the mental trace of the Veithan disappeared, only to reappear far to his left, near where the main gate was. He felt the strong psychic emenations, and sensed the Veithan begin to move, back towards the side enterance where he had made his entrance. The Veithan was moving remarkably fast.

20 minutes until the King began his speech. Yrt Ztal began to move along the walls again. He had 20 minutes to complete his mission, and if that Veithan continued its current pace, he might have less time than that before he was discovered. He rounded another corner, placing himself that much closer to the central lift complex. 50 yards away. The Veithan was almost to where he had entered. Soon he would be hunted. Speed, he needed speed!

Around another corner. Almost to the lifts. Situational awareness full, free hand on his blaster, he ran on.

[Dahak]

Duke Nethington curiously eyed the computer interface before him. He fiddled a bit with the controls. He was always interested in historic technology, and the last time he saw an actual manual interface was in a museum. He hoped his interest didn't sow too much...
"Dear Mr. Drealaan," Nethington finally said, "The Grand Empire is just opening up various embassies in the galaxy, and we gladly accept your offer. We can offer you a space in the diplomatic district of Orbit One, one of our biggest orbital station."

[InnocentBystander]

"Orbital Stations?" Drealaan was taken by surprise. Orbital stations were used as trade centers, military faculties, construction yards, even refineries, but as a place to house diplomats, it was unheard of. He took a moment to regain his composure. "Your offer is most generous, we gladly accept. Allow me a moment; I'll upload the pertinent information to your datapad." Drealaan watched the duke, who seemed all to eager to make use of the datapad again. "If you are interested in trade, please see me after the meeting." he added before turning to the next representative.

[Dahak]

"Yes, of course an orbital station. It would be the easiest place for you use. And you might not be up to actually live in one of our floating cities. It may be a bit disconcerting to you."
He paused for a moment, before he went on. "We look forward to talk to you about trading matters."

[InnocentBystander]

Drealaan turned back to Duke Nethington, "I will have one of our engineers contact your people in a day or two, it is of little consequence where an embassy is placed." With that, he turned to the next representative, eagerly awaiting a response.

[Marcao]

Manasan Space
Manasa IV, Government Palace

Through his mind’s eye he was aware of everyone’s mental signatures within the palace and the complex below. The mental presences varied from the familiar and strong presences of his fellow Veithans, to the dull and utterly normal outer guards. The president and his honor guard could barely be sensed, but their signatures were still unable to completely shield themselves from his mind. It was only then, that he felt the faint probe which had originated from within the palace itself. A frown appeared on his lips, the source of the disturbance was far more difficult to pin down than he had expected; His mental efforts shifting, no longer being as overt as before instead concentrating in subtle scans. As he did so, a part of his mind brushed against those of the information analysts located in the complex below. ~There is certainly an intruder within the palace, a good one. I suggest you keep an eye out for his passing, he may not be using the floors.~

He took a deep breath, aware that he held a crucial advantage over his adversary. He knew the palace well, but more importantly he knew where the only points of entry capable of leading down to the complex below. He came to his decision in less than six and half seconds, his mind recoiling within itself in order to give no warning of his actions. The likelihood that he could be tracked by local Manasan forces was slim, but he was not foolish enough to assume that this intruder was Manasan. No, he knew what he had to do and took steps to prepare for the arrival of his unknown guest.

He made his way to where he had to be, using a talent that he had trained to a razor’s edge through years of exertion and action. He willed himself to his destination and simply arrived, mind over matter was the credo of the order. Once there, his eyes closed for a moment as he waited. The intruder had been clever, enough so that he or she had to be given credit. However, the Veithan additions to the internal defenses had not all been active defenses. The ratio had been seventy five to twenty five, and now that the guest moved closer towards his final destination, the number of devices that had to be overcome increased. In the end it was a motion sensor that caught the intruder, the information passed through to internal security monitors and his own stealth suit. His suit had the capability of hacking into wireless protocol systems, and the local palace utilized a fair number of those. He had access however, and thus his suit alerted his neural implants of what the motion sensors had discovered. The data projected in his retina as a thin smile appeared on his lips. Ah, here he came.

His Dark Cloak made him nearly invisible as long as he did not move, light and other EM sensors scattering around it as easily as water hitting his suit. His arms were limp at his sides, fingers gripping his pistols as he waited. A psychic pick-up activated various programs integral to his neural implants, motion prediction software and trajectory analysis information loaded into active memory. He concentrated upon himself, willing a state of readiness and calm to seep within him. His mind quietly attuned itself to dozens of possibilities. In the end, he was as ready as he would ever be. The closer his prey would come, the harder it would be for him to remain hidden from his many eyes. It was inevitable, like light drawn ever closer to a black hole. In the end, nothing escaped and the closer the intruder came to his location the harder it would be for it to get it out. He had no intention of letting the interloper understand the depth of his mistake. And so he waited patiently, a shadow in a darkened room a trap door spider ready to kill.

The target was running now, his presence was no longer in doubt both in his mind and his suit’s internal motion sensors. His eyes focused forward, fingers curling a bit more tightly around his pistols as he waited for the right moment. When it came, he seized it. His body became a blur of motion, reflexes sharpened by familiarity of motion and Veithan technology. His arms moved, both pistols aligning themselves with the incoming target as if in their own volition. He was no longer simply a bodyguard, he was an instrument of death. Body and mind, cybernetics and psionics working in near perfect harmony. Through his talent for precognition, he sought to anticipate the moves of his enemy, through his neural implants motion prediction and trajectory analysis, he mercilessly increased his chances of success. Through years of training, there was no hesitation. There was one shot, followed by a second a third and then a forth. Ruby lances of energy hissing to life, as anti-matter atoms were accelerated to the speed of light and spat towards their targets. He continued to move, infinitely aware that motion was life. It had begun.

Manasan Space
Manasa IV

The battle lines had been drawn between the loyal forces to the King and the rogue elements of the military seeking a coup. Both sides had picked workable areas to use, a combination of cover and clear for armored forces while infantry was disgorged from their armored carriers and sought supporting positions. Both sides seemed irritated at the others presence, and communications had started over fifteen minutes ago going back and forth the front lines. The loyal forces demanded the immediate surrender of the rogue forces and return to their military bases while the rogue forces preached their belief that the Veithan devils had corrupted the King and would soon come to dominate them all.

The Peace of the Gun was well aware of the communications and had been listening in on the lively discussions since their start. It anticipated that the likelihood of a compromise being reached that would satisfy both sides was less than fourteen percent. It also considered that an outbreak of hostilities within the next thirty minutes was extremely likely, considering voice stress analysis on the communications and the ever decreasing quality of words used in the discussion. The HAU would not be disappointed, twenty three minutes after its prediction, an infantry fired anti-armor missile sped from the rogue lines and smashed into a loyalist tank. The missile did not penetrate the armor of the hull down vehicle, but the point got across. In the next four and half seconds, over two dozen 15mm hypervelocity rail gun shots accelerated towards the rogue forces all fired by loyalist tanks. The shots had mixed effects, the rogue forces were as dug in as the loyalists were, but the hypervelocity rounds made a certain amount of cover redundant. Three rogue vehicles were hit, two being dealt fatal wounds accompanied with spectacular effects as turrets were blown clean off, and in one case ammunition storage was breached. Rogue forces replied in kind, and two loyalist tanks and one APC seized to be. The battle for the future of Manasa had begun.

The order to engage the rogue elements of the Manasan military came from the colonel in charge of the loyalist forces roughly four and a half minutes after the engagement had begun. The order was recorded in its memory banks in case of future need before the HAU answered in the proper frequency. “Engaging targets.” The message had barely been sent when the eight thirty centimeter proton particle launchers fired as one, the sensors of the HAU easily dominated the electronic battlefield. Each shot was predicted to land within eighteen inches of their targets. Each proton particle shot arched upwards like azure comets, their ballistic approach a prized commodity within the Veithan army. Each shot fell down on its target points unhindered by rogue point defense, each explosion releasing a significant amount of electromagnetic energy. Infantry that was unfortunate enough to be near the target area simply seized to be, the shots capable of wrecking even a Manasan main battle tank. The devastation caused by the first salvo was spectacular to behold. The second salvo, promised to be demoralizing. But the HAU did not fire immediately, even though it was within its capabilities to do so. The colonel was once more trying to negotiate with the rogue faction, and it felt compelled to see what would occur. Its present location was fourteen kilometers from the battle proper, within the artillery range of Manasan forces. Nonetheless, the threat posed by Manasan artillery was slim. The HAU did not feel a need to move from its current position unless it needed to. And so it waited for further orders, an angel of death hovering over a meter above Manasan soil.

[Raptor 597]

Anfalas
Diplomatic Office

Letter to the Ousters

Greeting to your noble nation. We are the Authority of Lossarnach and bid you good tidings. After hearing about your conflict with the Jardinians we decided top open diplomatic relations with you. We look forward to an response.

[Bugsby]

50 yards from the lifts.

Yrt Ztal raced along the walls, his mind focused inwards as he felt for the Veithan. He felt the Veithan's presence shift quickly, obivously tleporting again. The Veithan followed an erratic trail, behind Yrt, almost catching up. Then the presecne was in front of him, near the guards he had sensed before, but somewhat apart from them. Yrt analyzed the situation immediately. His adversary was ahead of him in the main lift complex. Because he was removed from the guards, he was not with them, probably hiding.

Yrt did not hesitate. He knew that any hesitation would be registered by the Veithan. He could not seem cautious, he could not seem circumspect. He had to throw himself into the battle. He could not hope to surprise his opponent, but he had nothing to lose by coming in at full speed, and everything to lose by waliking in slowly. As anyone trained in personal combat knew, motion was life.

10 yards.

He deactivated the finger-grips on his right hand, and unslung his rifle, cradling it to his shoulder, his right finger already on the trigger. His left hand still gripped the wall. Ahead he could see the main lift champer. It had a high ceiling with a large ornate chandelier hanging from it. Apart from being functional, as the center of the palace this room also server a decorative purpose. To the right of the chamber the lifts stood ready, 5 guards posted nearby. To the far left he felt the presence that haunted him. He had no time to feel fear. He was there.

Leaping with all his strength, he deactivated his finger grips off the left wall and leaped towards the top of the opening, using his rifle to keep his balance by equalizing weight. His left arm looped around, grabbing the wall to the top of the passage he had just emerged from. An antimatter bolt smashed into the wall he had just left, vaporizing stone. As his left arm grabbed the wall, his huge amount of momentum swung him around until his body was above his left hand, his feet against the wall. His legs absorbed the impact. With a twitch of his left hand his grips were deactivated as he pushed off the wall, flying towards the chandelier in the center of the room. Two more bolts smashed into the ceiling behind him. His left arm was outstretched to grip onto the chandelier, his right arm with the rifle was moving quickly. 5 shots snapped off. 5 guards fell dead. He hit the chandelier, and swung forward, another antimatter bolt ripping through the space he had just occupied.

Yrt could not see his opponent. The man was obivously wearing a stealth-suit, similar to his, but of much higher quality. However, he could see the direction the bolts were coming from, although the man was moving. He released the chandelier, spinning into space. In one motion, he reslung his rifle and brought his two pistols out, already tracking towards where he had last seen his opponent. He got off three shots before he hit the ground. Tucking and rolling, he slid a full yard before he was able to regain his footing, and he was up and running in an instant. His opponent was now on the other side of the chamber, running sideways, roughly counterclockwise around the large circular room. Yrt matched him, running counterclockwise, as blasts snapped back and forth.

[Thirdfain]

A message drone dropped out of Kicaid-drive over the world of Anfalas.

<< We welcome your message, and accept your suggestion. Send A representative to the Cluster of Eketrina in the Huson system. We will send a representative of our own. >>

[frigidmagi]

Sir Kevin Ashton sat in the office, more than a little nervious. He was to meet a representive of the Krell Combine today and make a purchase.

He wasn't sure he agreed to with the purchase, but the Protector was right that the U.P defensives needed to be beefed up and planetary shield were part of that.

[Bugsby]

Faran Tor walked casually into his office, nodding to the United Protectorate official that sat across from his desk. This wasn't his real office: that was onboard the Nexus. This was just a secondary room on Cadmus that he usually used for negotiating with other powers if they insisted on a face-to-face meeting. But it was his secondary room. He threw hismelf into his chair, turned, kicked his feet up onto the desk, and turned his attention to the Protectorate negotiator. At a glance, he could tell the man was nervous. Excellent. If he was nervous, he would not be negotiating well. But still, time to put on the show.

"Welcome to Cadmus, Mr. Ashton. I hear you are here to place an order... a rather large one, unless I have been informed incorrectly. How can I help you?"

[frigidmagi]

"You are correct. Please name your opening price."

[Rogue 9]

Drealaan paused, awaiting the responses of each diplomat.

"The Republic of Nashtar gladly accepts your offer of embassy, and will gladly send diplomats to your planet. We would also be glad to hammer out trade agreements, though that would be better handled through a full embassy. I was sent here to investigate an unknown signal, not conduct a full diplomatic summit and first contact."

[Marcao]

Manasan Space
Manasa IV, Government Palace

Avery had entered a hyper-aware state induced by his own mental abilities and the neural implants that functioned in harmony with his mind. He was extremely well aware of the fact that thousandths of a second could make the difference between victory and defeat, life and death. His initial barrage of four shots had missed, each shot within a hair’s breath of the others. Each shot that missed hissed passed their intended target and slammed into the walls with frightening ferocity. If his mind was not so totally concerned with his adversary, he might have felt irritation. Instead, his pistols followed his target cybernetics correcting for the mistakes of his first shots and compensating for the odd movements of his target.

He was moving with predatory grace, his body an extension of his mind. When his target jumped towards the chandelier, his arms tracked him motion prediction and trajectory analysis suggesting a possible miscalculation. When the target used its left arm to grip the chandelier and used his right arm to move and fire its rifle, he saw an opening. The five guards were not fools and had not clustered together, and due to this simple fact forced the perpetrator to waste precious time as he fired and then had to move the barrel of the rifle to reacquire another target. He was not concerned with the lives of the Manasan guards, and paid no interest to them as they died. Instead, his pistols were brought to bear on the stationary target hanging from the chandelier. Time like speed, was life. He fired, the first ruby beam followed by another and another. He squeezed of six shots in less than two and half seconds, all aimed at his target.

His target had managed to somehow still remain alive, and as he fell and spinning into space he noticed another possible mistake. The first was the predictable trajectory as his target fell, and secondly his hesitation to drop the rifle instead of trying to resling it over his shoulders. His pistols fired once more, four shots sent towards his irritating prey within the span of a breath. The target fell, his shots going relatively wide as he had to deal with his constant assault against him. He broke into a practiced series of tumbles and rolls that to an observer, would have seemed to be some sort of ballet or dance. His target had made it to the other side of the chamber and was orbiting around him as he attempted to do the same to him.

It was then, that he decided that he no longer wished to play the game. Ruby beams continually snapped against his target, and to his credit his opponent was far better than he had expected. Even with his boosted reflexes and cybernetic enhancements, each shot got ever closer towards him. One in particular had been frighteningly inspired, managing to catch a good chunk of his dark cloak. It had channeled the energy of the blast, scattering much like it did light. Nonetheless, Dark Cloaks were not shields and were not expected to take punishment. A third of his cloak was now inoperative, unable to maintain the optical illusion that the rest of it performed. His mind lashed out, spreading outwards with the suddenness of a supernova. The chandelier which his target had used moments before, and that he had peppered with fire was ripped out of the ceiling and pushed in a forty five degree angle towards this target. Telekinesis was not one of his strengths. He did not have fine control over objects, but he was a prime and more than capable of giving any object frightening velocity. If his pistols were not enough to kill his target, he would use the entire room as a weapon. Furniture and decorations, everything in the room that was not the walls themselves or the rapidly cooling bodies of the five dead guards began to accelerate towards his enemy. If nothing else, broken bones had a tendency of slowing people down.

[Alyrium Denryle]

The Elf mage paused and considered the posibilities for a moment, then replied

"We would be honored to trade ambassadors with your people."

[Bugsby]

Yrt did not allow himself to panic, although a lesser man would have. He had encountered worthy opponents before, but this Veithan was beyond anything he had ever seen. He was amazed at his luck thus far. Despite his uncontrolled tumble through the air, the Veithan had missed each shot, each bolt having missed by maybe an inch. Maybe less.

Yrt's objective in this engagement changed. Survival was now his primary goal. Somehow he had to last long enough to escape from this deadly foe and still make his way down the lift to the King. One of his shots had been lucky enough to score the cloak that the bodyguard was wearing. Yrt now knew two important things. First, he knew where is opponent was. The clear visual indication was far superior to his vague mental impressions. Second, he knew the man did not carry a personal shielding unit like the one Yrt had. A new flurry of anitmatter bolts came streaking towards him.

Jerking wildly, he did his best to dodge the stream of bolts that came pounding towards him. He had just recieved his neural implants recently, but he could no longer imagine life without them. They were too damn useful. He could feel the gunner across the room, feel the angle of the gun, feel the timing of the bolts. He had to move before the bolts were even fired, a difficult feat at best. But he tried. Juking to the side and down, he ducked under the first bolt, then threw himself in the other direction to avoid the next burst. He had stopped firing, so intent was he on staying alive. More blasts flicked by and then he was hit.

A bolt glanced by his side, clipping Yrt's personal shield. The shield flickered and held at greatly diminsihed strength. The force of the impact was strong enough to send him flying. He landed in a heap, fully expecting the next bolt to end his life. The next shot never came. The opponent was still moving, but slower, his pistols at his sides. What would make him stop attacking like this?

The answer became all to clear when he heard a groaning above his head as the chandelier ached to free itself of its supports. Around the room, any object not tied down slowly lifted off the ground. Telekinesis. The man stood there, deep in concentration. Obviously he did not specialize in telekinesis, or else he would have been doing this effortlessly. As it was, the Veithan himself no longer presented a threat. But the several dozen objects around the room were of primary concern. Yrt reholstered his blasters and drew out 3 orb grenades. He quickly flicked the fuses to 1 second each. Then the objects came.

Motion was life.

Yrt hurled himself forward, towards the center of the room. The objects coming from more oblique angles would end up behind him, but he was headed right for the ones in front of him. He prayed that his personal shield had enough power left in it to absorb some of the blows. Under normal circumstances, the shield would be able to deflect physical missiles like this easily, but after the beating it had just taken, Yrt was afraid of every last candlestick.


A painting flashed by his face. A vase deflected off his shield and smashed into the ground behind him. The chandelier above him followed his progress, still straining to be freed of its supports. Yrt threw his grenades, praying that his strategy would work.The first went flying towards the lifts, aiming to blow the door so he could have access to the shaft downward. The second towards his opponent, in an attempt to interrupt his concentration and maybe, maybe, inflict some damage. The third straight ahead of himself. He hoped to have the blast clear a path through the flying debris. He threw them hard, guessing that since they were traveling fast, the Veithan would be unable to catch them and throw them back at him. Well, he could catch them, of course. But hopefully not within the 1 second that the fuses allowed.

A flying chair clipped his shield, and the shield popped and went dead. 1 second passed. The grenades went off.