STGOD 4 Game Thread

[Stormbringer]

TO: Draconian State Department
FROM: Asgard Office of Finance and Trade
RE: Illegal and fraudulent advertising


We must insist that your attempts to sell unlicensed military technology with in our borders cease. As your government is no doubt aware, such technology is strictly regulated with the Asgard Empire and your blatant and fraudulent breaking of that will not go unnoticed.

Further more, we have serious doubts as to the veracity of your claims regarding your product. If you wish to advertise with in our space for any product you will be required to follow the regulations, which specifically prevent false statements in advertisements.

All military technology sold in your territory will be liscenced properly. However, we were unaware that advertising said technology within your boarders was illegal, and advertisements will cease to be broadcast into your space until such a time as liscence is granted.

The technology is question is battle tested and the military version is used on our own ships.

OOC: It works better than metal hulls against energy weapons. As claimed.

"The fact that you attempted to sell this despite being aware of our policy on military technology reflects very poorly upon your nation. We infomred you of these rescritions at a trade meeting you arranged after all. You government has not taken any of the proper steps to get this technology licensed or even inspected as per proper so we demand that you cease selling it immediately. Continue to ignore proper dealings and we will pursue legal recourse.

And the simple fact is, that your prismatic crystaline armor can not be significantly more resistive to plasma and other charged particle weapons. Whatever your tests show, we have no doubt those are fraudlent."


OOC: I'm well aware that there would be some increase against laser but none against plasma weapons. They cause damage via kinetics and simple heat transfer. Neither of which your armor improves signficantly.

[Bugsby]

Nexus
Leego Diama had been summoned to Adar Krell's office to give a status update on all current operations. Laden with thick folders filled with military and itelligence statistics, Diama slid into his boss's office, dropping the papers on Krell's desk with a muffled thump. Krell was sitting in his chair, his back to Diama. Without turning, he raised his hand, signaling Diama to start his report.

"Well, a lot has happened recently, sir. Our forces have pushed even further into Overseer territory. S1-6 have been scouted. No signs of any military presence, same as before. We anticipate multiple contacts in S7. Our main fleet is in S6, now, and the Harley scouts should be reaching their targets in S7 within the hour. In an hour, sir, we will have the location of the Overseer." Leego paused, uncertain. This was the part of the briefing he was not looking forward to. "Sir, about-"

Krell cut him off. "Adar. Leego, call me Adar. Now. What about the orders I gave you last week?"

"All carried out. The fleet commanders have been given their orders, and have complied. All communication with Monacora and the others has been cut off. But I don't know about this, Adar. Do you really think-"

"Of course I do." Adar Krell's voice carried a bite that made Leego step back a pace. "I am sure about all of my orders. You see, it don't you? This is a grand opportunity for the Combine. The galaxy will know us as the race that eliminated both the Arcanists and the Overseer, single-handedly. Think of what is to come."

"But communicating with Monacora-"

"Sit down, Leego." Now Krell's voice carried no bite whatsoever. It was an invitation to a friend. The rapid switch in mood surprised Diama enough that he obeyed. "Now, tell me about yourself. You have been my military commander for over three months now, and I know little beyond the name and the resume."

This was not what Leego had been expecting. He took a second to collect his thoughts. "About me? Well, not much to say. Born on Vespa, and ever since I was little I wanted to join the Combine. I wanted to be part of bigger things, and hell, you are the biggest thing in this area of space. I joined up as soon as I was old enough, kept my nose to the grindstone, did what I was told, and got promoted up through the ranks. I was an adivsor on the Aegis project, and when the ship was commissioned I made first mate. That quickly led to me being captain, and from there Fleet Commander, and now here. Nothing special."

"Would you consider yourself an ambitious man?" Leego shrugged. "Of course you would," Krell continued. "You would have to be. If you werent. you wouldn't be sitting there now. But I like you more already. A man of action. No politics."

"You know I hate politics, Adar. People talking while good men die, that's all politics is."

Adar finally turned to look at him, and nodded gravely. "Very perceptive. People talking while good men die. He was just there to talk, you know. Just there to talk, and he died for it. He was a good man."

"Sir?" Even though Adar Krell was staring at him, Diama got the impression that Krell was talking to himself. What did he- oh. He must be talking about Emir.

"Call me Adar. He did. You should. We are friends, now. He was my friend. You are my friend. You want to be my friend, don't you, Leego?"

"Of course. Of course I do, Adar." Leego was nervous now. He had never seen Adar in this kind of mood before.

"Ah, but I forget my manners. Here, I get your life story, and yet you know nothing of me."

"I know enough. Everyone knows about the famous Adar Krell, Krell the Deathless." Despite his unease, Leego felt a fierce swelling of pride at working for one of the most famous men in the galaxy. "You are a living legend. A scientist with the intelligence to find the key to immortality. A visionary who turned a small group of scientists and mercenaries into a formidable galactic power. A great man."

Krell gave a mirthless laugh. "My reputation precedes me, does it not? I am pleased, pleased that you trust me. You do trust me, don't you?"

"Of course, sir. I trust you totally." He did.

"Then trust me in this. There are only two kinds of people in this universe: those with power, and those to weak to grasp it. The politicians talk; they are the weak. We true men take the power we are destined for, I realize this now. After 150 years, I finally realize this. That is why you are not communicating with Monacora. That is why you follow my orders. A visionary, you called me? Maybe. Maybe I have vision enough to make the Combine not only formidable, but even respected, perhaps feared. That's good business. Good business. Trust me." Krell's eyes gleamed intensely. Leego found himself reevaluating Krell. He had thought that Adar was strong before, but only now did he begin to realize how strong Adar was. A man to move galaxies. "You are dismissed, Leego. I look forward to future conversations. My new friend."

As Leego left the room, he felt more powerful, more confident. Adar had called him a friend. A great man, Adar Krell. Great things in store for the future of the Combine. Yet as he left the room, Leego Diama could not help shivvering in the warm air of the Nexus.

[Alyrium Denryle]

The fact that you attempted to sell this despite being aware of our policy on military technology reflects very poorly upon your nation. We infomred you of these rescritions at a trade meeting you arranged after all. You government has not taken any of the proper steps to get this technology licensed or even inspected as per proper so we demand that you cease selling it immediately. Continue to ignore proper dealings and we will pursue legal recourse.

Having spoken to the board of General products, I was informed that they are applying for the necessary liscensing and have not even started to import the neccessary equipment into your nation. Nor have they even purchased space from which to do business inside your borders. The simple matter is, no actual selling has started within the boundaries of Asgard territory. None of your laws have been broken, and the advertisements shown were broadcast by corporationspaid to do so across theirrespective markets. Your laws were not broken, as miitary technology was not actually sold within your territory, it was merely being advertised in the expectation of General Products opening up business.

And the simple fact is, that your prismatic crystaline armor can not be significantly more resistive to plasma and other charged particle weapons. Whatever your tests show, we have no doubt those are fraudlent.

Crystaline structures are also very good at withstanding heat transfer. Kinetics are a different story, but the heat from a plasma weapon will not do much damage to a crystaline hull.

OOC: I'm well aware that there would be some increase against laser but none against plasma weapons. They cause damage via kinetics and simple heat transfer. Neither of which your armor improves signficantly.

OOC: Actually against the heat the crystaline hulls would hold up remarkably well IIRC These arent sugar crystals. They have a much higher melting point and hoold up to fractures caused by heat much better than the metal hulls used by other nations.

Oh ahd they have not sold anything yet. Advertisements are not illegal last time I checked.

[Stormbringer]

TO: Draconian State Department
FROM: Asgard Office of Finance and Trade
RE: Illegal and fraudulent advertising

It's good to know that all you've been doing is advertising a product that is at this moment illegal to sell within the borders of the Stellar Empire. I suggest that you hire a good business attorney familiar with Asgard law. Given the number of potential violations of business laws you've wracked up with this stunt, you might need one.

We don't wish to discourage legal products, but your business has been conducted in a reckless and borderline manner. But blatantly violating laws to which you have been made aware is not consistent with the reasonable standards of business conduct.

PS: There has been no license filed with this office concerning the product advertised.


OOC: Actually advertising an illegal product is illegal. If I place a couple million ands for crack and human kidneys you'd better believe I'd get in trouble.

And you might wish to actually consult me on licensing weapons tech with the Asgard Empire.

[Bugsby]

Dyelin Riatin didn't expect any luck on this, her last scout assignment of the mission. She was the captain of Bolt, one of the hundred Harleys sent to investigate the Overseer territory. She had scouted six systems before this, one in each S-Ring, and the result had been the same in each. A huge tower standing high into space, weakly broadcasting. No infrastructure. No ships. And then she jumped to her next system. It had been a boring three weeks, but with this last jump it would be over.

Her ship reverted to realspace far outside the boundaries of the system. Too far for her to see anything, too far for anything to see her. Moving at maximum sublight, she ordered her helm forward as the ship moved closer, trying to get into sensor range.

Half an hour later, she could make out the planet ahead of her on her sensors. She swept the planet, and gasped at what she saw. Massive energy signatures covered the planet. Many more circled the world, ships moving back and forth, quickly building more ships. Warships. Slowing, Dyelin moved the ship in as close as she dared. The system was small, with the world in question begin far from the son. Two worlds orbited the small blue sun, both lifeless rocks. There was no life, true, but one of the planetary orbs still glowed with the energy of a million machines and more. Huge reactors dotted the planet with a massive fortified structure to be seen, dug deep into the planets surface. There was no question in her mind. This was the Overseer homeworld.

Alarms blared as enemy sensors swept her ship. Overseer patrols diverted from their courses, and sped towards her ship. She got what she came for. Now it was time to go. Firing one or two blasts to slow pursuit, she spun the Bolt about quickly, cut out the sublight engines, and engaged hyperdrive.

CNS Aegis
"Sir, we got them."[/i]

[Alyrium Denryle]

From:General Products
To:Asgard Office of Finance and Trade
Re: Clerical Error

<Insert Liscensing application for Standard Crystaline HUlls and Mk2 Defense Grid Energy Projectors*Civilian Model*>

We are sorry this took so long to get through, we thought it would be done by the time our advertisements aired, but it seems that due to a clerical error we sent the application to one of our offices in the Ryax system(small NPC fiefdom the general products sells toaster ovens to)

By the time we caught the mistake it was to late to cancel the commercials aired in you space. We would be more than willing to plead no contest to any fines or penalties placed upon us.

Also, our government informed us of the requirement to have a liscence and cannot be faulted for a clerical error on our part. The individuals responsible for the clerical error have had their pay docked, and an investigation is under way. We may need to switch our filing software and would welcome your suggestions.

We apologize for any Inconvenience

Xeril Knatha
General Products Board of Directors.

[Straha]

Ezekial

It was a small suburban stretch of Highway, it had been torn up and destroyed early on in the fighting and right now a Monacoran transport was unloading next to it. From the rather large commercial transport bull-dozers, rollers, and a construction crew unloaded accompanied by two dozen Monacoran soldiers and two APCs. The men soon began their work repairing the road system, and working towards the city, while overhead two cloaked transports, one empty and the other filled with troops, circled ready to sweep down when trouble came.
The crew had orders to rip down any road-blocks they came across, though they (nor their commanders) didn't actually expect to get past the road blocks, and were also under strict instructions not to entrer the city. Nonetheless they started their journey, with the soldiers searching for mines on the road ahead, towards the city.

[Alyrium Denryle]

It's good to know that all you've been doing is advertising a product that is at this moment illegal to sell within the borders of the Stellar Empire. I suggest that you hire a good business attorney familiar with Asgard law. Given the number of potential violations of business laws you've wracked up with this stunt, you might need one.

The Board of General Produts it apears has sent a letter andmatching transmission expressing their apologies for the incedent. It appears that there was a clerical error and the incedent in question was by no means intentional.

[Straha]

The Princess-Heir simply walked down the exit ramp, which was flanked by a company of Imperial Guard in their distinctive grey uniforms. Despite the parade ground all of them were alert and ready. The Princess-Heir herself, despite being over fifty, looked like she was in her later twenties. She had long developed a sort of serene majesty about her that was so seemingly at odds with her apparent age.

"Thank you, on behalf of us all, for this welcome here. I understand from here we are to attend the formal signing?"

"Yes, join us."

Two Asgard soldiers then marched forward, carrying the national flag and the flag of the Imperial Guard, and stood side to side with the Monacoran Flag bearers. The Seargent-at-Arms then gave two short barking orders and the Monacorans spun around, and began the march into the palace lead by the flag bearers and the Tenth, followed by the rulers to be, and then followed by the Asgard. Once they were inside and out of the sight of prying eyes, however, the Princess-Heir was lead away to the office of the Political Prince.

"Hello, madam, I hope your journey went well. We've got a few minutes before we begin the signing process, so would you like some coffe, tea, or somesuch?

[Captain tycho]

Field Marshall Montgomery straightened his back and cracked his gloved knuckles for what felt to be the fiftieth time today. He wasn't nervous, but excited, rather. He had suffered under the old regime, as the still visible scars etched across his face showed, but few could guess the emotional pain he went through. His parents, his siblings, all were killed during the UBT's mad rush to kill off the old king's advisors. The mere thought of that atrocity sent blood pulsing through his temples and chest, and he tightened his grip on the handle of his pulser. "Relax, goddamnit, you'll get a chance to rip those slimey assholes apart soon," he muttered angrily to himself. He snapped shut as he heard the pounding of feet behind him, and a cool and indifferent voice whispered in his ear. "His Majesty will see you now, Field Marshall." Montgomery nodded stiffly, and turned on his heel to follow the guard into the war room. The war-room was mostly dark at this hour, save a single holo-display showing the vectors of the First ExBatRon as it circled Manticore. King Alvarez stood by it, his eyes bloodshot. "Come in, Field Marshall," he uttered tiredly. Montgomery wondered absently how long the King had been up planning for this event. Montgomery managed to gurgle a polite 'Your Majesty' before settling in one of the stiff-backed chairs surrounding the display. King Alvarez looked an absolute mess. His uniform was sweat-stained, his hair unruly, and his face covered in a thick layer of stubble. But no matter how tired he looked, he always seemed to inspire confidence in those near him. "Well Monty, looks like we're ready. I want the wargames to start at 0900 tommorow. You got everything coordinated with Grand Admiral Stark?" Montgomery nodded numbly. "Yes, your majesty. All our C3 systems have been updated, our commanders briefed, ectcetra. Though one thing concerns me sir, the troops we're putting on the surface have zero orbital drop experience. Is this wise?" Alvarez shook his head in affirmation. "We have 2 months of wargames to run through, they'll get plenty aquainted with the concept. Now, about the finer points of the first week..."

[SirNitram]

"Aye, sir." The ship began to rotate its undamaged side towards the main bulk of the enemy fleet as she moved to follow the Dauntless.

The fleet was looking pretty sorry as the suicidal ships impacted. A few ships remained, but the bulk of the attention was on the Dreadnought.

OOC: The biggest one that has the largest amount of signals coming from it.

NRS Enterprise

The Dreadnought was literally coming apart at the seams as the weapons fire rained in. Shields began to fail across it's grid, but it had time for a last act. It's Fusion Cannons raked across the carrier, trying to weaken it's shields enough for the last shot.

"Knock knock." It spoke.

It's railguns fired in sequence, a long stacco of hits ramming into the armoured doors, each shell trying to burst through, one after another after another as the Overseer's vessel lost shield function and was slowly torn apart..

The Tower stood there, omnious, forbidding. Uncaring.

[Captain tycho]

"Boucing outta the alpha bands in 3...2...1" Midshipman Lennings braced himself for the inevitable wave of nausea, and failed miserably as he blew hs lunch all over his astrogation console. "Fucking compensators," he grumbled as he began mopping up the mess. The man sitting across from him was not pleased. "Come on Lennings, your stomach is so weak it couldn't hold a wafer of bread." Lennings spat another curse and tapped on his console, bringing up vector information and plotting a course towards Earth. Earth was still a good 2 AU's away, and the HMS Aurora didn't want to arrive unexpectedly. Aurora folded in her Warshawski sails and powered up her impellers, accelerating in a smooth arc far over Earth's northern pole. A thousand broadcasts went out in a hundred different languages, ranging from German to French to even Aboringinal. No telling what the Earthers might nowadays.

[Straha]

"Boucing outta the alpha bands in 3...2...1" Midshipman Lennings braced himself for the inevitable wave of nausea, and failed miserably as he blew hs lunch all over his astrogation console. "Fucking compensators," he grumbled as he began mopping up the mess. The man sitting across from him was not pleased. "Come on Lennings, your stomach is so weak it couldn't hold a wafer of bread." Lennings spat another curse and tapped on his console, bringing up vector information and plotting a course towards Earth. Earth was still a good 2 AU's away, and the HMS Aurora didn't want to arrive unexpectedly. Aurora folded in her Warshawski sails and powered up her impellers, accelerating in a smooth arc far over Earth's northern pole. A thousand broadcasts went out in a hundred different languages, ranging from German to French to even Aboringinal. No telling what the Earthers might nowadays.

"Unidentified ship, halt and identify yourselves now. Also prepare to be boarded for a customs inspection."

[Stormbringer]

[AINS Achilles, Earth]

"Captain, we've just picked up a Warshawski transit and impeller wedge drive. It's clearly not one of ours. I'm trying to resolve it."

* * *

"Unidintified Vessel, this is the Asgard Heavy Cruiser Achilles. Please identitfy yourself. "

* * *

"Monacoran Control, the vessel is not one of ours. Her compensator profile is way too low to be an Asgard vessel. Be advised she's a bogie."

[Captain tycho]

Countess Laura Tyrel leaned forward as the message came through. "Put me on, Ensign." She waited until the channel was open, then leaned back and smiled charmingly. "This the battlecruiser Aurora, of His Majesty's Royal Manticoran Navy. We are here to open relations with the Monocoran goverment. I am Countess Laura Tyrel, chief diplomat in charge of this mission. We will await clearance to enter your orbital space."

[Marcao]

Veithan Space
Veitha III
Underground Facility

The planetary surface of Veitha III was considered by many within the Empire and a few without as being positively striking. The architectural talent and technological capabilities of the Empire were significant and had been properly harnessed and utilized in the shaping of the planet. Although it also happened to be the most heavily defended planet in the Empire, its pristine beauty still remained as a strong effort had been made to maintain it. At the moment however, the beauty of the planet was the farthest thought in the minds of five distinct individuals located deep beneath the capital city. The room which held them was comfortable, dominated by a rounded table made of genuine terran oak, and all the expected commodities of Veithan living.

Voice 1: ~The Krell has been hired as planned, the necessary information has been passed along and all that is left is to await the completion of the task upon the appointed time. Our specific instructions will be carried out and we managed to receive the very agent we had specifically requested.~

Voice 2: ~Ah, the Krell agent that gave Avery such a hard time in Manasa? That speaks well for him, however I still have my doubts about the operation. Surely, we could carry it out ourselves? Adding the Krell into the mix simply forces an extra layer of complexity into the equation. Furthermore, did they agree to our terms?”

Voice 1: ~yes, the agent proved to be most capable in Manasa. This task should be considerably easier. The Kalderi are not technologically superior to the Manasans in most respects and the location is far softer than the Manasan Royal Palace. As for the reason we are using the Krell, an extra layer of detachment and plausible deniability should the agent fail. Our own embassy is well monitored by the Kalderi, even if they have gotten warmer to the idea of more…direct relations with us now that the Myheri and Manasans have deals with us. They are also very concerned about the Ousters, it is something we plan on exploiting. And yes, the Krell were quite willing to accept our terms of secrecy and no advertising. Our target is very competent, we have to be as well.~

Voice 3: ~Do you believe that the Kalderi will believe our deception?~

Voice 1: ~yes. The Krell agent will be using the proper tools to paint the proper picture, after that the Kalderi themselves will fill in the blanks. They will deny any wrongdoing of course, and they will point out a dozen or so other possibilities that are plausible. These people are competent adversaries, but the more they point out other possibilities the more the Kalderi will wonder. Our own people in the planet will take steps to make the operation a complete success. Furthermore, Lilandra is quiet on the subject suggesting that she too feels this is the best approach.~

Voice 4: ~so we will use their own aura of invincibility and arrogance as tools against them?~

Voice 1: ~in a manner of speaking. They are a threat to the smaller nations and quite frankly any nation, only an idiot or an idealist would not see this. They seem to be drawn to conflict like vultures awaiting fresh corpses and they have spread quickly. If the operation is successful and frankly, I have little doubt that it will be unless something catastrophic occurs, the Kalderi should be knocking down our doors within days of the event.~

Voice 5: ~alright, it sounds damned compelling. So what are we paying the Krell for all of this?~

Voice 1: ~That is the interesting thing in all of this, they did not ask for a credit exchange even though we would be more than willing to accommodate such a request through the usual discrete channels. They required our services in assisting one of their telepaths. When the matter was pressed, and negotiations continued I managed to learn the identity of the telepath. In essence, the payment that the Krell will receive will be the training of their agent to control his psychic talents. At the moment, they are rather wild and barely controllable. If you will remember, Avery’s report suggested that his opponent was psychically gifted.~

Voice 5: ~they want us to train their agent into harnessing his potential? They want us to sharpen their blade! What if this very agent is used against us in the future?~

Voice 1: ~we will cross that bridge when we come to it. The point remains that we are the natural choice for assisting the Krell individual. No one else in known space has our expertise in these matters and the Krell know it. Furthermore, if we help in training this agent we will know what he can or cannot do. I find comfort in this fact. I conferred with a few others and they agreed that it was an equitable exchange.~

Voice 5: ~I see. Very well, who have you selected to train this Krell?~

Voice 1: ~Natalya Ilya Korolev~

Voice 2: ~the cast iron bitch?!~

Voice 1: ~the very same. Although I am certain that she finds the term quite amusing and perhaps, a bit flattering.~

Voice 3: ~She is one our best trainers. Are you certain about this?~

Voice 1: ~quite certain. The Krell demanded one of our best, and I saw no reason not to accommodate their desire. Natalya is also expertly suited for this, it is part of her strength you see.~

Voice 3: ~I do not understand.~

Voice 1: ~Natalya is an unusual case. She is a prime, but one with a rare talent. Psychic abilities have little effect upon her, crashing upon her like waves upon a rocky cliff. It has been a talent that we have tried to replicate for years, although we have met with only some success. Natalya is capable of handling just about anything, from wild talents all the way up to our best primes. It is part of the reason why she is so good and in such high demand. It is our hope that some of the data we have garnered from Al-Quadim will allow us to expand some of our existing projects. The preliminary data has been…very exciting.~

Voice 4: ~so, we get the Krell agent to carry out the operation and then he gains access to Natalya.~

Voice 1: ~that is the deal. The Krell agent shall be brought to Veithan space where Natalya will take it upon herself to assist him in dealing with his talent. It is all in all, quite equitable. Now, for other matters…~

[Thirdfain]

Ezekiel

Private Marks was new to the Moncoran army. Fresh out of basic, he had been assigned to this unit to fill up the losses from the invasion of Terra. His training was extensive, and he was ready for anything. Word had it that these Covenanters were working with equipment that was second-rate when compared to the average nation's, and the armor on his back and weapon in hand were all far superior to anything the locals could have aquired. Around him, his unit moved up the quiet suburban road. The region was fairly lightly populated; his ship had dropped him far from the city to avoid the anti-air weapons Command had postulated would be in place. The town was Vasili, typical of the hamlets in the broad farming districts surrounding Ressurection City's industrial suburbs and central temple and commercial regions. The road, a highway linking Ressurection to the port-city of Abrahim 30 miles away, was being targetted for some lamebrain scheme by command to make the Covenant civilians trust them. Marks smiled inside his helmet- if the last few months were anything to go by, it would take more than some urban renewal to quiet the hard-fighting fanatics.

- Unit, all stop! Civilians in the road, 20 meters! -

Marks' commander signalled him.

-Marks, take point. Check them out.-

Marks moved into the town's central area, which was bisected neatly by the highway and lined with rest-stops and refueling stations. A tall steeple grew from a small temple on one side. There were perhaps a hundred people in the square- it seemed that with the fighting cutting off most traffic, it was being used here as a soccer field and commons.

-Shit, Sergeant! They are mobbing me!-

A wave of humanity, mostly women and children, rushed towards Marks and the pointmen. They were far from threatening, all were unarmed, but Marks knew what to look out for. His mask checked and double-checked- no suicide bombs or weapons, at least not in the first few ranks of the crowd.

-Sarge! they are closing around us! I think they want food or something...-

-Get a translator up here, what are they saying?-

-Hold your fire, men, hold your fire, they are begging for food.-

Marks was surrounded, now, by beseeching hands. A dozen dirty hands thrust in his face, hands behind which sat faces with wide, requesting eyes.

Marks was young, and unexperienced. That's why he took off his helmet, perhaps to let the people see that he wasn't an armored, inhuman monstrosity. It was a mistake he would never make again.

*phut*

His blond, handsome face was exposed to the sun for only a second before the xaser-bolt struck his skull, turning his head into an expanding cloud of gas. His armor suit fell back stupidly, clanking to the ground. His rifle clattered onto the tarmac, landing a second before his ravaged, headless form.

-FUCK! FUCK! SNIPER!-

The crowd was dispersing, running, falling apart- except for a handful, who charged the Monacoran soldiers through the disapatting mass of humanity. Another private, reflexively, opened fire. Blasts tore the rag-shrouded figures to peices before they even got close to the Monacoran soldiers. His eyes opened in surprise when he saw the weapons clutched in their severed hands- no more than knives. Their orders had been to treat the local populace with respect, but the attack had been unexpected- and the reflexes and training which made excellent soldiers were not necessairly conducive to winning the hearts and minds of these fanatics.

One private nearly puked inside his suit as he saw that his burst of fire had caught a handful of fleeing civilians as well, their bodies mangled by his potend shoulder-weapon.

More fire rang out, the almost silent noise of Minmatar xaser-rifles, mixed with the loud roar of Covenant plasma guns. The store-faces and the church were home to a handful of gun positions, which the Monacorans tracked down and destroyed with only one more casualty, precisely blasting the gun-pits without causing any further civilian losses.

Minutes later, the Monacorans policed the bodies. They were mostly locals, but a number of clerics were found as well. The assassins who had mingled with the crowd, armed with only knives, were local young men and women.

The Monacoran sergeant shook his head. These hadn't even been Mujahdeen, just the disorganized Cleric factions- but he had already lost two men- and he knew that the closer they got to the city, the closer he'd get to the Mujahdeen, who every account listed as being twice as fanatical and a thousand times as compotent as the priests.

[Rogue 9]

The Dreadnought was literally coming apart at the seams as the weapons fire rained in. Shields began to fail across it's grid, but it had time for a last act. It's Fusion Cannons raked across the carrier, trying to weaken it's shields enough for the last shot.

"Knock knock." It spoke.

It's railguns fired in sequence, a long stacco of hits ramming into the armoured doors, each shell trying to burst through, one after another after another as the Overseer's vessel lost shield function and was slowly torn apart.

NRS Enterprise

"Helm, roll the ship 90 degrees, face the ventral surface towards the enemy. Mask the hangar doors."

"Aye, sir."

The carrier rolled to present its solid ventral surface towards the dreadnought, denying shots at the doors. Three meters of solid, unbroken armor faced the incoming fire now.

"Now then, transmit: Begin Firestorm."

"Aye, sir."

The Warhammer and Nova class ships that had gathered earlier at Admiral Fisher's orders carried out their missions then. They all started firing off their missiles at once, joined by the smaller missile loadouts of the destroyers, cruisers, and battleships.

2656 missiles flew out in one massive volley, most of the missiles remaining in the fleet going out all at once. The dreadnought was doomed already regardless; this massive swarm made straight for the tower. Fire continued to pour towards the enemy dreadnought, and the Intrepid cut between her sister and the stream of fire, momentarily interrupting the onslaught to the flagship. The Galileo, Copernicus, and Oppenheimer turned back from screening the Warrior and began applying broadsides to the seemingly carrier-obsessed dreadnought.

[OOC: Uhhhh, Nitram? I practically handed you the Gladius on a silver platter! She was rammed all to hell, stripped of shielding, and closest of the capital ships, with the cruisers screening for the Dauntless not protecting it. If you hadn't insisted on going after the previously undamaged, easily protected, and much more distant carrier, you would have had her cold.]

[Bugsby]

Deep space had been a relief for Yrt. Even in his secluded area of the Nexus, he had still been bombarded by psychic projections. Now, he was free. With the voices, images, and feelings gone, he could think for the first time. He slowed his shuttle to a halt in the middle of deep space and just laid back in his chair. He stayed that way for many hours, sifting through the thoughts in his head, sorting away months of random information. At last he was fully coherent.

Yrt took a moment to reflect on how he had gotten this way, why the implants had affected him so. He had thought the implants were a one-shot-kill deal. He would use them, and he would be given new abilities. But in the days after Manasa he learned that wasn't the truth. The implants were a catalyst, waking areas of his brain one by one, giving him more and more power over time, power he gained too quickly to learn how to control. He had begged Adar to remove the implants, but it was not to be. They were a part of him now. Removing them would kill him, 0% chance of survival. At the time, even death had seemed preferable to the madness that consumed him. But Adar simply locked him away, kept him away until he was needed again. And now here he was.

Bringing his mind back to the present, Yrt looked at the mission file in front of him and frowned. It was an easy mission, but an odd one. The Veithans had hired him to kill... Veithans. He read more, his old focus back as he quickly analyzed his task. The Kalderi were interfering with the expansion of the Miheri and Manasan protectorates, stopping the slow expansion of Veithan power. The Veithans were right now negotiating with the Kalderi. The subject of the negotiation was unimportant, what mattered was that several moderately important members of the Kalderi and Veithan diplomatic team would be on hand. Those were his targets. Kill them, inspire fear in the Kalderi, and soon the Veithans would have another protectorate. The irony of this was not lost on Yrt. His last mission had been to stop the expansion of the Veithans. His new mission was to accelerate it.

He winced as a sudden burst of images came pouring into his head. A ship had been traveling near him going at FTL speeds and he had felt the mental shock of its passing. Even that infinitely small contact was enough to hurt him, now that he had his defenses lowered. That was the true reason for this mission. He now had new tools that he had no idea how to use. After this mission, the Veithans would train him. He would be sane again. He would be strong again.

Yrt pushed the shuttle into FTL and headed into Kalderi space. Minutes later, he was in orbit above Kaldor. The psychic hum was already beginning from the billions of minds on the planet below, but Yrt had his crude mental barriers up as strong as he could make them. He could hold on long enough to end his mission, and then his misery would be over.

His shuttle passed through customs without a problem, likely facilitated by the Veithans. They didn't even check him for weapons, which was good because he had his full compliment: rifle, pistols, grenades, throwing knives, mageblade, and the new weapon he had been given just for this mission. This in addition to his personal shield, stealthsuit, and fingergrips.

An hour later, Yrt was walking down the streets of Kaldor. The weight of the minds around him was beginning to weigh on him, but he kept them at bay. He wouldnt hold out for long, another few hours at most, but by that time, he would be long gone. He approached the complex.

Security was lax. There were few guards, and those that were there were poorly trained. He had a map of the place, with marked patrol routes, all supplied by the Veithans. Yrt strode casually up to the door and walked right past the guards, not even breaking stride, nodding to them as he passed. They hardly gave him a second look. Yrt laughed to himself. The fools didn't even know their job. He had merely presented the appearance that he belonged there, and they let him right through. But that was just the front door. The conference room itself would be more of a challenge. Yrt stepped into the shadows past the entrance hall, activated his stealthsuit, and vanished.

He quickly took to the ceilings, as he liked to do, moving over the heads of the guards. In some places, the ceiling was low enough that he couldn't pull off this simple trick, but there was always a side corridor for him to wait in for the guards to pass. They moved in their normal routes. Even without his psychic gift, Yrt knew they were coming before he saw them, and before they saw him. Moving this way, he made it to the central conference chamber. A regimen of six guards stood outside, much better armed and better trained than the patrolling guards he had passed, but they were still easy meat.

Unexpectedly, Yrt's world rocked. His mind was assaulted from all sides. He knew what he was feeling, he remembered it from Manasa. A powerful Veithan was behind that door. As soon as he became aware of the Veithan, the Veithan became aware of him. The mission just got harder. No time to waste.

Yrt sped towards the door, throwing his mind towards the waiting guards. One of them saw the moving blur created by the stealthsuit and reached for his gun, but a second later they all dropped to the ground, minds torn apart by Yrt's onslaught. No time for finesse, he had to get the Veithan before he lost it entirely. Pulling out a grenade, he blew the door and stormed through the debris.

Inside was a scene of chaos, Veithans and Kalderi milling around in a panic, trying to find a place to hide or a place to fight from. Yrt threw his mind forward again, and the Kalderi all fell to the ground, screaming. The Veithans held their ground, however, and Yrt felt his mind battered once again, but by now it was already over.

Only one gun was to be used on the top priority kills. Yrt pulled out his Ouster standard-issue fletcher and started pulling round after round into the Veithans. The attack on his mind ceased abruptly as the explosive darts ripped through the frail bodies of the Veithans, spraying blood across the room. Yrt was amazed by the destructive power of the fletcher and silently prayed that he would neve face these in combat. He turned the fletcher on at least a dozen Veithans before the attack on his mind stopped altogether. Chatter filled his head as he realized his mental shields were deadened by the Veithan attack, and the weight of a world poured into his mind. He struggled to keep lucid as he pulled out his mission file and examined the dead Veithans on the floor, making sure his targets had been among them. He then turned to the Kalderi lying on the ground, some still alive, but only bearly. He quickly sought out his targets and put at least one fletcher round each into them. Sprays of blood slid off his shield. A perfect kill. And now it was time to go.

Yrt ran towards the door, quickly switching out clips in the fletcher. The gun felt odd in his hand, designed for a longer, thinner hand with differently shaped fingers, but he managed. He was a blur charging through the halls. Alarms were sounding, had been sounding ever since his grenade took down the door, but Yrt didn't mind. He ran for the exit; every guard he encountered got a fletcher bolt through the chest. Disorder reigned, no one knew where to hunt for him. He sped past the guards at the front gate that he had walked past so casually just minutes before. A quick psychic shot sent them flying into the wall and they did not get up. His mind rung, he couldn't see very well. The weight of the world fell on top of him. But he still had to make the clean exit. Now in the street, he darted into the nearest alleyway, and then scampered up the side of a low building using his fingergrips. Police sirens wailed as the first hovers appeared in front of the building he had just left. Done.

Yrt collapsed on top of the building, fighting to control his mind. For hours he lay there, fighting with every fiber of his being to keep himself in control. He was there until nighttime, when the roar of the day became a dull murmer as people went to sleep and their minds quieted. Exhausted, Yrt somehow dragged himself back to the spaceport and boarded his shuttle. He punched in the pre-determined co-ordinates and blasted off into the farthest reaches of deep space. There, no one would be able to contact him, and he wouldn't contact anyone. Except for one transmission, of course.

"Mission accomplished."

[Murazor]

Outer Edean system.

The Sitraria was a scout frigate with the biggest sensor range in the whole fleet of the Confederation. However, the Council deemed the Ousters to be the biggest threat to Confederate safety in all Known Space and entering the Edean system was considered a very risky move. The former system of the CoG was about to become a hub of Elysian activity and with the limits of Confederate territory some parsecs away, the Council decided that the information was well worth any risk.

Sizartrax, the Sixtra captain of the ship, dropped out of warp well beyond standard detector range and entered the system via sublight. His orders were clear: he had to reach a gas giant and hide inside the magnetosphere of the planet for a human day. With Ousters all over the place, the possibilities of being detected were high, but he had his orders and he intended to obey them. As the Edean star grow in size in the screen of the bridge, the lizard thought that it was going to be a very long day...

[frigidmagi]

"Yes. Officially we are here for 'trade negotiations'. That is all you need to know. Please, show us to the meeting."

Brain Mattews took a deep breath, if anyone else other than a guest had been so rude it would be a dueling matter. As it was, it was just likey nerves and ignorence, he had been told that some outrealmers did not like being underground. That they liked exposing themselves aboveground to various menaces that could come without warning. Yes, the... President most likey did not mean to insult the heir appairent of a close ally.

"The Lord Protector will decide that, not you. Please follow me. Also I'm afraid that your guards will not be allowed in the office, not armed anyway." He said in a chill voice has he turned to go.

[Murazor]

Inside the Oort cloud of the LastPort system.

Under command of the Council itself, the Sirpatia, a Silent class scout frigate had traveled deeper into the stars of Outside that any other vessel from the Confederation. After a long travel with the painfully slow warp, the frigate had reached its destination. The system housed the capital of a powerful human faction, that much the Sixtra captain knew, but all he needed to know was where to transmit the message recorded by the Council.

When the transmision ended, the Sirpatia went into top speed warp and left the system, heading for the rendezvous point where the Freedom waited. Four minutes after the departure of the frigate, the transmision reached Lastport.

From: The Council of Races of the White Sun Confederation.
To: The Lord Protector of the United Protectorates.
Re: The Ouster danger.

For a hundred of your years, we have been isolated from Outside, what you call Known Space. In the past, we have suffered at the hands of your kind, but now we have decided that the time of silence is over. The Machines and the Hajr are bigger menaces than mankind. And while the Machines are being fought, the Hajr grow in power and number. Soon, the stars that are our home will be devoured by the Ouster advance.

The White Sun Confederation won't allow such a thing to happen. We offer you our support in any effort aimed to lessen the Ouster menace both for Outsiders and Insiders.

Councilor Vopelum, spokesbeing of the Council of Races.

[frigidmagi]

From: The Council of Races of the White Sun Confederation.
To: The Lord Protector of the United Protectorates.
Re: The Ouster danger.

For a hundred of your years, we have been isolated from Outside, what you call Known Space. In the past, we have suffered at the hands of your kind, but now we have decided that the time of silence is over. The Machines and the Hajr are bigger menaces than mankind. And while the Machines are being fought, the Hajr grow in power and number. Soon, the stars that are our home will be devoured by the Ouster advance.

The White Sun Confederation won't allow such a thing to happen. We offer you our support in any effort aimed to lessen the Ouster menace both for Outsiders and Insiders.

"Holy Mother of God..." Breathed out Captain Flowers has she fingered her roseary. She looked at the message on the screen it was... Blunt to say the least.

"Well, let's bring in the guest. Tell them that the Lord Portector will see them has so has his meeting with a visiting head of state is completed. If they like they can speak to Fleet Admiral Andersen. Give them the whole welcome speech to." Captain Flowers ordered. Her head was slightly spinning. They sure were popular today.

[Murazor]

"Holy Mother of God..." Breathed out Captain Flowers has she fingered her roseary. She looked at the message on the screen it was... Blunt to say the least.

"Well, let's bring in the guest. Tell them that the Lord Portector will see them has so has his meeting with a visiting head of state is completed. If they like they can speak to Fleet Admiral Andersen. Give them the whole welcome speech to." Captain Flowers ordered. Her head was slightly spinning. They sure were popular today.

"Captain. The probe we left at our position is being hailed by local warships. If the translators got it right, they are inviting us to speak with a Fleet Admiral", hissed the comunications officer, a youngling that had just reached his adult size twenty years ago.

"Drop out of warp. We return to the system. Report this to the Freedom and tell them to leave if we don't contact them within eight hours. Tell the Councilor that the humans seem to be receptive. And tell the grabians to prepare for anything." the captain ordered hissing "humans" with hate.

"Aye, sir. Heading for the main planet in the system. Top warp speed. ETA, three minutes."

"I think that dropping out of FTL just outside sensor range might be the best idea, captain. This humans might become our allies... but we don't want to show our strengths from the beginning", said the Councilor Vopelon, stepping into the bridge within the centaurean power armour used by all Ethereals in order to hide their true aspect.

From: WSN frigate Sirpatia.
To: Local space authorities.
Re: Invitation.

We gladly accept your invitation. We will reach your sensor range within five minutes. Once there, we will await further instructions.

Edit: Added transmision.

[frigidmagi]

From: WSN frigate Sirpatia.
To: Local space authorities.
Re: Invitation.

We gladly accept your invitation. We will reach your sensor range within five minutes. Once there, we will await further instructions.

United Protectrates systems are seeded with remote sensor drones. Hundreds of years of cival war had bred a refined paranoidia about covering the space of the systems. Even with the drones however nothing was picked up until the 5 minutes had passed. It was the kind of thing that would give a good UP Officer ulciers.

Captain Flowers was a good UP Officer and the fact that her nation's sensor abilites had been pegged by a new power so easily made her stomach flop. But it wasn't her problem. She sent another transmission

To:WSN frigate Sirpatia
From: Lastport Space Command

Landing zone is has follows. You will be met by Fleet Admiral Andersen and company of Marine honorguard. If you require anything please inform us.