"Well. I will report to my government and it will be their work to establish relations. Hopefully, we will be back in time to help you to control the situation. Tablexia out."
Moments later, the three frigates left the Ix'agal system heading for the meeting point from where the 6th fleet would be informed. Then it would be the choice of the Councilors. Nothing more. Nothing else.
STGOD 4 Game Thread
Moderator: Thanas
-
Thirdfain
- The Player of Games
- Posts: 6924
- Joined: 2003-02-13 09:24pm
- Location: Never underestimate the staggering drawing power of the Garden State.
Fleet Tender WOTH Glorious Return
Flagship, 3rd War Cluster
Terra
High Orbit
Bondman Admiral Jerac su Fassar was one of the most powerful individuals in the Hajr. Of the Four Admirals, he had seen the most combat. His position as representative to the Unification made him important diplomatically, and when you got down to it, the fact he was absolute ruler over a quarter of the Hajr's vast military machine, answerable only to the Speaker, gave him a great deal of clout.
For the last few months, he had directed his fleets from afar as they patrolled and fought. He had seen little action since the Krynori campaign, and there had been little space combat- mostly consisting of providing fire support for troops while sweeping aside orbital defenses. Atja su Miitgar had been the only Unbound fleet leader at the mighty battle of Camaro, and he had only taken out a fistful of cruisers and transport-destroyers while his fire support duties kept him from joining the main battle against the Krynor armada. Jerac was not a jealous type, and he had respect for Atja, but he was still glad the young man hadn't had more time to prove it- otherwise, he would have wound up in command of the newly-built 4th, instead of Miyako su Kynisnet- who had been Jerac's second before her promotion.
Those political and warlike thoughts were quickly chased away. The 3rd was the first unit to return to Hudson for the repair and resupply cycle, and Jerac's humanitarian duties providing medical assistance and housing for Monacoran civilians were coming to an end. The last few shuttles would be returning to the Arcologies, and Jerac's vessel would once more be able to return to it's duties as leader-craft for a mighty warfleet as opposed to a makeshift hospital. Jerac grumbled slightly at the idea- this duty, while necessary, was not something he had chosen. Damn the Speaker and her strange ideas about co-operation and alliance-building! Such was not the way of the Unbound.
"Bondman Admiral."
An orderly had entered the chamber, making the gesture of subservience and duty.
"Speak, Bondwoman."
"Vessel detected approaching on Kincaid-drive. We have been hailed via Hajr military Freecaster bands. In Guidice communications codes."
"What? The lexandrosi, here?"
"Yes, sir. The vessel's codes are all in order. A Lexandros Elanie su Meshif requests an audiance with, well, you, Bondman."
The massive Ouster's face twisted into a look of annoyance.
"Is such a woman on the records?"
"Yes, Bondman Admiral. There has been no word from the Guidice, but they come and go as they please."
"Let her on board, then. I will give her some of my precious time. Pray for her sake that she does not waste it."
Minutes later, Jerac "stood" in his boardroom. The Fleet Tender, at over 15 kilometers in length, had room for some luxuries, and this was one of them. It's lattice was made of fine laquered wood, and there was a state-of-the-art display system in the chamber's center, where officers could plan attacks and review battle plans.
Jerac was well situated, composed at the apex of the table when the woman entered the room, expertly propelling herself along the floor with her prehensile toes.
Jerac was hardly taken aback by the woman- she was just beginning to show the signs of age, a sure sign that she had perhaps 3 or 4 years left. A venerable, successful Lexandros, then, but still an annoyance.
"Bondwoman Lexandros Elanie su Meshif, on the behalf of the Hajr, I bid you welcome to the Glorious Return. I trust you have some fine reason for gracing me with your presence on this most busy of days?"
His usage o her full name was a small courtesy- as a high-ranking member of the mighty Hajr, he coul have referred to her only by title, giving offense, and have her say nothing of it. He was throwing her a bone.
She settled into the opposite side of the lattice-table curling her knees about a restraint so she wouldn't float away in the zero-g as they spoke. She made the gesture of subservience.
"I have come, Bondman Admiral, to speak with you. About a matter of no small importance."
He nodded. He found his impatience leaking away; after all, the Guidice did have the authority to speak with anyone they pleased on matters of law.
"Indeed, then. Speak, Bondwoman Lexandros!"
"You may have become, in recent days, dissappointed with your position..."
"I do my duty, Bondwoman! I do my Duty for the Hajr. Do not attempt to paint me in any other light!"
His eyes blazed. The implication of disloyalty was heart-wrenching!
"No, no." She said, making a placating gesture, her eyes meeting his. "I mean no such thing. I am merely pointing out that your strength is, as yet, underused."
What a truly beautiful pair of eyes. Thought Jerac. And lovely red hair. Hmm. Wasn't it black, going grey, just a second before?
He shook his head imperceptibly, clearing the thoughts from his mind. He needed to listen to what the Lexandros had to say, and had no time for such treasonous thoughts.
"Of course, Bondwoman Lexandros. Of course. Have I failed in some part of my duties?"
"Indeed, you have, Jerac. You have failed to show proper respect to your betters. Are you not Bound to loyalty?"
He nodded. Of course! There was nothing to which he was more beholden than loyalty. Loyalty to... loyalty to... In any case, loyalty must be observed!
"Excellent, Jerac. Excellent."
Her eyes gleamed faintly in the room's pale lights. Such lovely eyes...
"Now, Jerac, we will remedy the situation. You have a chance to serve properly, a chance to show your loyalty, and through it, gain the rewards you so richly deserve for your service in the field of battle.
A warm blanket fell over Jerac's mind. Of course! here was redemption, a chance to redeem whatever sins had landed him running a relief fleet over Earth as opposed to a glorious conquest battleswarm. He knew he had the loyalty in him to accomplish what ever was necessary.
He "stood" from his perch, and made the Gesture of Subservience.
"Lady, I will make up for my past mistakes. You can be assured that my hand, and the hands of my soldiers, will be at your command. No longer will we displease you with insufficient loyalty and zeal."
Elanie smiled. It glinted like razorblades in cold moonlight.
"Then, Jerac, come over here. We have more to discuss."
.................................................
Aber-Toril
Former Arcane Territory
Realm of the Blood King
The room was empty. The two Orcs were dead. She had slipped out so quietly, early in the morning, that no-one had even seen her go.
Count Alexander Vasilievich cursed, an uncharacteristic display of emotion from a creature such as he. This was... unexpected. Basil would likely be most dissapointed.
Elanie su Madrighala was gone.
Flagship, 3rd War Cluster
Terra
High Orbit
Bondman Admiral Jerac su Fassar was one of the most powerful individuals in the Hajr. Of the Four Admirals, he had seen the most combat. His position as representative to the Unification made him important diplomatically, and when you got down to it, the fact he was absolute ruler over a quarter of the Hajr's vast military machine, answerable only to the Speaker, gave him a great deal of clout.
For the last few months, he had directed his fleets from afar as they patrolled and fought. He had seen little action since the Krynori campaign, and there had been little space combat- mostly consisting of providing fire support for troops while sweeping aside orbital defenses. Atja su Miitgar had been the only Unbound fleet leader at the mighty battle of Camaro, and he had only taken out a fistful of cruisers and transport-destroyers while his fire support duties kept him from joining the main battle against the Krynor armada. Jerac was not a jealous type, and he had respect for Atja, but he was still glad the young man hadn't had more time to prove it- otherwise, he would have wound up in command of the newly-built 4th, instead of Miyako su Kynisnet- who had been Jerac's second before her promotion.
Those political and warlike thoughts were quickly chased away. The 3rd was the first unit to return to Hudson for the repair and resupply cycle, and Jerac's humanitarian duties providing medical assistance and housing for Monacoran civilians were coming to an end. The last few shuttles would be returning to the Arcologies, and Jerac's vessel would once more be able to return to it's duties as leader-craft for a mighty warfleet as opposed to a makeshift hospital. Jerac grumbled slightly at the idea- this duty, while necessary, was not something he had chosen. Damn the Speaker and her strange ideas about co-operation and alliance-building! Such was not the way of the Unbound.
"Bondman Admiral."
An orderly had entered the chamber, making the gesture of subservience and duty.
"Speak, Bondwoman."
"Vessel detected approaching on Kincaid-drive. We have been hailed via Hajr military Freecaster bands. In Guidice communications codes."
"What? The lexandrosi, here?"
"Yes, sir. The vessel's codes are all in order. A Lexandros Elanie su Meshif requests an audiance with, well, you, Bondman."
The massive Ouster's face twisted into a look of annoyance.
"Is such a woman on the records?"
"Yes, Bondman Admiral. There has been no word from the Guidice, but they come and go as they please."
"Let her on board, then. I will give her some of my precious time. Pray for her sake that she does not waste it."
Minutes later, Jerac "stood" in his boardroom. The Fleet Tender, at over 15 kilometers in length, had room for some luxuries, and this was one of them. It's lattice was made of fine laquered wood, and there was a state-of-the-art display system in the chamber's center, where officers could plan attacks and review battle plans.
Jerac was well situated, composed at the apex of the table when the woman entered the room, expertly propelling herself along the floor with her prehensile toes.
Jerac was hardly taken aback by the woman- she was just beginning to show the signs of age, a sure sign that she had perhaps 3 or 4 years left. A venerable, successful Lexandros, then, but still an annoyance.
"Bondwoman Lexandros Elanie su Meshif, on the behalf of the Hajr, I bid you welcome to the Glorious Return. I trust you have some fine reason for gracing me with your presence on this most busy of days?"
His usage o her full name was a small courtesy- as a high-ranking member of the mighty Hajr, he coul have referred to her only by title, giving offense, and have her say nothing of it. He was throwing her a bone.
She settled into the opposite side of the lattice-table curling her knees about a restraint so she wouldn't float away in the zero-g as they spoke. She made the gesture of subservience.
"I have come, Bondman Admiral, to speak with you. About a matter of no small importance."
He nodded. He found his impatience leaking away; after all, the Guidice did have the authority to speak with anyone they pleased on matters of law.
"Indeed, then. Speak, Bondwoman Lexandros!"
"You may have become, in recent days, dissappointed with your position..."
"I do my duty, Bondwoman! I do my Duty for the Hajr. Do not attempt to paint me in any other light!"
His eyes blazed. The implication of disloyalty was heart-wrenching!
"No, no." She said, making a placating gesture, her eyes meeting his. "I mean no such thing. I am merely pointing out that your strength is, as yet, underused."
What a truly beautiful pair of eyes. Thought Jerac. And lovely red hair. Hmm. Wasn't it black, going grey, just a second before?
He shook his head imperceptibly, clearing the thoughts from his mind. He needed to listen to what the Lexandros had to say, and had no time for such treasonous thoughts.
"Of course, Bondwoman Lexandros. Of course. Have I failed in some part of my duties?"
"Indeed, you have, Jerac. You have failed to show proper respect to your betters. Are you not Bound to loyalty?"
He nodded. Of course! There was nothing to which he was more beholden than loyalty. Loyalty to... loyalty to... In any case, loyalty must be observed!
"Excellent, Jerac. Excellent."
Her eyes gleamed faintly in the room's pale lights. Such lovely eyes...
"Now, Jerac, we will remedy the situation. You have a chance to serve properly, a chance to show your loyalty, and through it, gain the rewards you so richly deserve for your service in the field of battle.
A warm blanket fell over Jerac's mind. Of course! here was redemption, a chance to redeem whatever sins had landed him running a relief fleet over Earth as opposed to a glorious conquest battleswarm. He knew he had the loyalty in him to accomplish what ever was necessary.
He "stood" from his perch, and made the Gesture of Subservience.
"Lady, I will make up for my past mistakes. You can be assured that my hand, and the hands of my soldiers, will be at your command. No longer will we displease you with insufficient loyalty and zeal."
Elanie smiled. It glinted like razorblades in cold moonlight.
"Then, Jerac, come over here. We have more to discuss."
.................................................
Aber-Toril
Former Arcane Territory
Realm of the Blood King
The room was empty. The two Orcs were dead. She had slipped out so quietly, early in the morning, that no-one had even seen her go.
Count Alexander Vasilievich cursed, an uncharacteristic display of emotion from a creature such as he. This was... unexpected. Basil would likely be most dissapointed.
Elanie su Madrighala was gone.
Under capitalism, man exploits man. Under communism, it's just the opposite.
John Kenneth Galbraith (1908 - )
-
Darksider
- Sith Acolyte
- Posts: 5271
- Joined: 2002-12-13 02:56pm
- Location: America's decaying industrial armpit.
"Acknowledged."Stormbringer wrote:"The is Vahalla Control, we are transmitting a flight plan to Trondheim now. You will be met at the pad by our diplomats. Welcome to the Empire gentlemen."Darksider wrote::::::::KSN diplomatic shuttle Mediator, Edge Of Asgard space::::::
The shuttle flew in twards Asgard space, it's six fighter escort wing taking defensive positions.
"Open a Channel"
"Channel Open"
"Asgard control, this is ambassador Morii Toorth of the Krytos Star Empire, requesting permission to enter your space and meet with a government official"
The small diplomatic convoy moved along the transmitted path, and landed on Trondheim.
Ambassador Toorth walked out and greeted the Asgard diplomatic personell.
"Hello."
And this is why you don't watch anything produced by Ronald D. Moore after he had his brain surgically removed and replaced with a bag of elephant semen.-Gramzamber, on why Caprica sucks
-
Dahak
- Emperor's Hand
- Posts: 7292
- Joined: 2002-10-29 12:08pm
- Location: Admiralty House, Landing, Manticore
- Contact:
*to speed it up a little...*
The four Gladsheim ships swallowed out of their wormholes right in the middle of the entry vector they've been given by Ravenlock authorities.
They opened up a broadband com channel.
"Ravenlock Space Traffic Control, this is Her Imperial Majesty's Ship Demonstration of Supremacy, transporting ambassador de Grojte for a diplomatic mission. Permission to enter system."
The four Gladsheim ships swallowed out of their wormholes right in the middle of the entry vector they've been given by Ravenlock authorities.
They opened up a broadband com channel.
"Ravenlock Space Traffic Control, this is Her Imperial Majesty's Ship Demonstration of Supremacy, transporting ambassador de Grojte for a diplomatic mission. Permission to enter system."
Great Dolphin Conspiracy - Chatter box
"Implications: we have been intercepted deliberately by a means unknown, for a purpose unknown, and transferred to a place unknown by a form of intelligence unknown. Apart from the unknown, everything is obvious." ZORAC
GALE Force Euro Wimp
Human dignity shall be inviolable. To respect and protect it shall be the duty of all state authority.
Nexus
"Where are the fleets, Adar?" Faran Tor came storming into Adar Krell's office unannounced, a dangerous thing at the best of times. Faran's rank afforded him some measure of protection from Krell's displeasure, and he was too angry to think this through, anyway.
Krell gave his head negotiator an icy stare. "The fleets are where I put them, Faran. Still on their way back from Overseer territory, I believe."
"Bullshit. It's been two weeks since we destroyed the Overseer. They're still in transit?"
"Many ships were damaged in the attack. They are moving slowly to be safe. I don't see how this is your business, Faran. This is between me and Leego." Krell looked very dangerous.
"No, this does concern me. I am in charge of our clients, and our clients aren't being served. We have 12 client worlds now, and not one of them has a ship in orbit. The only reason we survive is because we can make these people feel safe. They don't feel safe and we die. This means we have a problem, Adar. A big problem. You're gonna have to give me some answers."
"This does not concern-"
"The hell it doesn't! Someone tried to kill me yesterday, Adar. Some spacer whose family was killed in a pirate raid WE were supposed to defend against. He saw me in the bar, knew I worked for you, and tried to kill me."
"Your fault for going into those seedy bars you like so much. Are you alright?" There was no concern in Krell's voice.
"Of course I am. The idiot only had a knife. I, on the other hand, have not been defenseless in years." Faran Tor tapped the small blaster he had in a holster at his waist. A relic of his freelancing days, before the Combine became his life.
"Then you are not weak. I am relieved."
"Adar, the fleets-"
"Will come into position over the client worlds, yes. It is the burden of the strong to protect the weak, is it not? They will be there in the next day or two."
Faran shook his head. "If that's the best you can do. Adar, I think you underestimate the situation here. The people are livid. If the fleets don't arrive in the next few hours we will be facing large-scale revolt. The older client worlds are with us only becuase of one hundred years precedent. The Sparta system is under control only because we have the Monacorans on the ground. As it is, we won't be able to safely dispatch the fleets for at least another two months."
"They are weak. Death comes to us all, why their fear?" Krell seemed to be talking to himself.
"I don't want to argue this with you, Adar. The fleets will be in position, though? Soon?" After a long moment, Krell nodded, then turned his chair around so his back was to Faran. Taking this for a dismissal, Faran turned and left. Trilla had been right. Krell was losing it in a big way. Well, to a certain extent, Adar had been right. A lot of this wasn't his business. As long as he could keep Krell with the right priorities in mind, the clients would be happy. And that was what mattered.
"Where are the fleets, Adar?" Faran Tor came storming into Adar Krell's office unannounced, a dangerous thing at the best of times. Faran's rank afforded him some measure of protection from Krell's displeasure, and he was too angry to think this through, anyway.
Krell gave his head negotiator an icy stare. "The fleets are where I put them, Faran. Still on their way back from Overseer territory, I believe."
"Bullshit. It's been two weeks since we destroyed the Overseer. They're still in transit?"
"Many ships were damaged in the attack. They are moving slowly to be safe. I don't see how this is your business, Faran. This is between me and Leego." Krell looked very dangerous.
"No, this does concern me. I am in charge of our clients, and our clients aren't being served. We have 12 client worlds now, and not one of them has a ship in orbit. The only reason we survive is because we can make these people feel safe. They don't feel safe and we die. This means we have a problem, Adar. A big problem. You're gonna have to give me some answers."
"This does not concern-"
"The hell it doesn't! Someone tried to kill me yesterday, Adar. Some spacer whose family was killed in a pirate raid WE were supposed to defend against. He saw me in the bar, knew I worked for you, and tried to kill me."
"Your fault for going into those seedy bars you like so much. Are you alright?" There was no concern in Krell's voice.
"Of course I am. The idiot only had a knife. I, on the other hand, have not been defenseless in years." Faran Tor tapped the small blaster he had in a holster at his waist. A relic of his freelancing days, before the Combine became his life.
"Then you are not weak. I am relieved."
"Adar, the fleets-"
"Will come into position over the client worlds, yes. It is the burden of the strong to protect the weak, is it not? They will be there in the next day or two."
Faran shook his head. "If that's the best you can do. Adar, I think you underestimate the situation here. The people are livid. If the fleets don't arrive in the next few hours we will be facing large-scale revolt. The older client worlds are with us only becuase of one hundred years precedent. The Sparta system is under control only because we have the Monacorans on the ground. As it is, we won't be able to safely dispatch the fleets for at least another two months."
"They are weak. Death comes to us all, why their fear?" Krell seemed to be talking to himself.
"I don't want to argue this with you, Adar. The fleets will be in position, though? Soon?" After a long moment, Krell nodded, then turned his chair around so his back was to Faran. Taking this for a dismissal, Faran turned and left. Trilla had been right. Krell was losing it in a big way. Well, to a certain extent, Adar had been right. A lot of this wasn't his business. As long as he could keep Krell with the right priorities in mind, the clients would be happy. And that was what mattered.
The wisdom of PA:
-Normal Person + Anonymity + Audience = Total Fuckwad
-Normal Person + Anonymity + Audience = Total Fuckwad
-
Dahak
- Emperor's Hand
- Posts: 7292
- Joined: 2002-10-29 12:08pm
- Location: Admiralty House, Landing, Manticore
- Contact:
Gladsheim Prime, Orbital One
"And what we're here to get, anyway?" the burly, middle-aged guy said to his fellows.
"Not so loud, Dyke," the woman next to him hissed. "Or do you want everyone and their mother to know about us?" She glanced around, and no one seemed to be interested. "We're supposed to get our hands on some gizmos of them, weapons, specs, data. Any useful information we can get."
"I can't see how this's so special, Tjara," Dyke muttered. "Have done this loads of times. Looks like a cakewalk to me."
"Might be so. Still, we're getting paid an awful lot of money, we better make it right."
Standing up from the table in the small bar, they made their way through the main concourse of the huge orbital station. Even for her, who has seenuncountable space station this one was special. Totally different style and architecture, yet beautiful. Since this Grand Empire of theirs had opened themselves to outsiders, this station served as the main hub for any contact with outsiders. So far, she hasn't been able to get access to one of their fabled floating cities, only selected few were allowed there. And it seems tech thieves weren't one of those.
They have been a very successful team, she and her 4 colleagues. They were considered one of the top team in the market for this. And so, their mysterious customer had hired them through the usual channels.
Masquerading as a sociological research team had opened up this station. And now they were stuck. They have tried, under various excuses, to leave the station for the "real" places down in the atmosphere of the planet, but they have been refused each and every one of them.
But they had a plan...
"Is it secure?" she asked in her com.
"Affirmative," the answer came. "Proceed to point beta."
She slowly crept into the small vent shaft. As she has found out via tedious research, it seemed to lead out of the "outsider" zone into the station proper, where they were forbidden to go.
Ahead of her, the shaft made a sharp turn. Her back hurt, her hands were aching. Just think about the money. Just think about the money. Just...
A further 100 meters ahead, she saw a opening. Signing her team behind her.
They stopped in front of a meshed hatch. Looking through, she couldn't see anyone. Dyke besides her signaled that his scanners didn't pick anyone up, either. Using a laser burner, she opened up the hatch and silently pulled it into the shaft.
Carefully crawling out, she looked around. It looked not quite like the sector they came from. Same, but different. The light was different, slightly whiter, brighter, and the corridor was broader.
Activating her suit's stealth systems, she moved ahead, her team following her. Somewhere they'll find the things she was supposed to get...
***
The security AI observed them as they left the shaft. It chuckled.
<<Kyle,>> it signaled it's fellow AI. <<Look at this. They're trying to sneak in. Actually crawled through the whole thing.>>
<<You've been observing them all along?>>
<<Yeah, wasn't too tough spotting them.>>
<<Shouldn't you stop them?>> Kyle asked incredulously.
<<Spoilsport.>> he pouted. <<It's the only thing remotely funny in weeks. I'm bored...>>
<<Kryat!>> Kyle snapped.
<<Ok, Ok, I'll do it. As if they could do anything harmful, anyway...>>
***
Tjara nearly got a heartattack as the voice filled the corridor.
"Intruders," the ethereal voice told them, "you are to desist and surrender yourselves. Flight is impossible."
"Shit," she hissed. Whipping around, she signaled her team to make a run for it. Maybe they could try and hide somewhere?
"Intruders," the friendly voice said as soon as they ran, "this is your last warning. Please, stop."
The hell I will! She continued running.
Suddenly, she stopped. More to the point, she was crushed to the floor, as the gravity suddenly increased drastically. Her suit managed to activate it's counter-grav unit just in time before she lost consciousness. She tediously got up again. A painful stab in her chest seemed to indicate a broken rib. Damn.
She didn't look for her team mates. She just paniced. This was not what was supposed to happen!
"Intruders," the voice came again, sounding a bit annoyed. "We are sorry that you are so obstinate. This will end. Now."
Around her, the corridor walls somehow...morphed. Small holes opened. Before she could react, the air was filled with gas, and thousands of tiny darts filled the corridor. One punctured through her suit, and immediately released a powerful toxin. She passed out.
***
Blinking heavily, she opened her eyes. Light assaulted her eyes, and she couldn't see anything. Slowly figures formed in the brightness, flowed into persons. My team!. After several more minutes she made out more schemes. Standing before them. She blinked again, looking at them.
One of them started speaking.
"You have illegally intruded into our property. Your memories have been processed and have been found guilty. You will be punished to 50 years sensory deprevation. Effective as of now."
"NO!" she screamed. "You can't!"
They didn't react.
"I have information for you!" she cried.
"You already have been questioned and your memories looked into. YOu have nothing of value left to us."
A scream came out of her throat, a shriek, guttural screm, which would have made one of the mystical banshees proud.
They were forced into some black coffins. Slowly, they closed. And suddenly, there was...nothingness.
"And what we're here to get, anyway?" the burly, middle-aged guy said to his fellows.
"Not so loud, Dyke," the woman next to him hissed. "Or do you want everyone and their mother to know about us?" She glanced around, and no one seemed to be interested. "We're supposed to get our hands on some gizmos of them, weapons, specs, data. Any useful information we can get."
"I can't see how this's so special, Tjara," Dyke muttered. "Have done this loads of times. Looks like a cakewalk to me."
"Might be so. Still, we're getting paid an awful lot of money, we better make it right."
Standing up from the table in the small bar, they made their way through the main concourse of the huge orbital station. Even for her, who has seenuncountable space station this one was special. Totally different style and architecture, yet beautiful. Since this Grand Empire of theirs had opened themselves to outsiders, this station served as the main hub for any contact with outsiders. So far, she hasn't been able to get access to one of their fabled floating cities, only selected few were allowed there. And it seems tech thieves weren't one of those.
They have been a very successful team, she and her 4 colleagues. They were considered one of the top team in the market for this. And so, their mysterious customer had hired them through the usual channels.
Masquerading as a sociological research team had opened up this station. And now they were stuck. They have tried, under various excuses, to leave the station for the "real" places down in the atmosphere of the planet, but they have been refused each and every one of them.
But they had a plan...
"Is it secure?" she asked in her com.
"Affirmative," the answer came. "Proceed to point beta."
She slowly crept into the small vent shaft. As she has found out via tedious research, it seemed to lead out of the "outsider" zone into the station proper, where they were forbidden to go.
Ahead of her, the shaft made a sharp turn. Her back hurt, her hands were aching. Just think about the money. Just think about the money. Just...
A further 100 meters ahead, she saw a opening. Signing her team behind her.
They stopped in front of a meshed hatch. Looking through, she couldn't see anyone. Dyke besides her signaled that his scanners didn't pick anyone up, either. Using a laser burner, she opened up the hatch and silently pulled it into the shaft.
Carefully crawling out, she looked around. It looked not quite like the sector they came from. Same, but different. The light was different, slightly whiter, brighter, and the corridor was broader.
Activating her suit's stealth systems, she moved ahead, her team following her. Somewhere they'll find the things she was supposed to get...
***
The security AI observed them as they left the shaft. It chuckled.
<<Kyle,>> it signaled it's fellow AI. <<Look at this. They're trying to sneak in. Actually crawled through the whole thing.>>
<<You've been observing them all along?>>
<<Yeah, wasn't too tough spotting them.>>
<<Shouldn't you stop them?>> Kyle asked incredulously.
<<Spoilsport.>> he pouted. <<It's the only thing remotely funny in weeks. I'm bored...>>
<<Kryat!>> Kyle snapped.
<<Ok, Ok, I'll do it. As if they could do anything harmful, anyway...>>
***
Tjara nearly got a heartattack as the voice filled the corridor.
"Intruders," the ethereal voice told them, "you are to desist and surrender yourselves. Flight is impossible."
"Shit," she hissed. Whipping around, she signaled her team to make a run for it. Maybe they could try and hide somewhere?
"Intruders," the friendly voice said as soon as they ran, "this is your last warning. Please, stop."
The hell I will! She continued running.
Suddenly, she stopped. More to the point, she was crushed to the floor, as the gravity suddenly increased drastically. Her suit managed to activate it's counter-grav unit just in time before she lost consciousness. She tediously got up again. A painful stab in her chest seemed to indicate a broken rib. Damn.
She didn't look for her team mates. She just paniced. This was not what was supposed to happen!
"Intruders," the voice came again, sounding a bit annoyed. "We are sorry that you are so obstinate. This will end. Now."
Around her, the corridor walls somehow...morphed. Small holes opened. Before she could react, the air was filled with gas, and thousands of tiny darts filled the corridor. One punctured through her suit, and immediately released a powerful toxin. She passed out.
***
Blinking heavily, she opened her eyes. Light assaulted her eyes, and she couldn't see anything. Slowly figures formed in the brightness, flowed into persons. My team!. After several more minutes she made out more schemes. Standing before them. She blinked again, looking at them.
One of them started speaking.
"You have illegally intruded into our property. Your memories have been processed and have been found guilty. You will be punished to 50 years sensory deprevation. Effective as of now."
"NO!" she screamed. "You can't!"
They didn't react.
"I have information for you!" she cried.
"You already have been questioned and your memories looked into. YOu have nothing of value left to us."
A scream came out of her throat, a shriek, guttural screm, which would have made one of the mystical banshees proud.
They were forced into some black coffins. Slowly, they closed. And suddenly, there was...nothingness.
Great Dolphin Conspiracy - Chatter box
"Implications: we have been intercepted deliberately by a means unknown, for a purpose unknown, and transferred to a place unknown by a form of intelligence unknown. Apart from the unknown, everything is obvious." ZORAC
GALE Force Euro Wimp
Human dignity shall be inviolable. To respect and protect it shall be the duty of all state authority.
Ark Sector, Ravenlock Space
Ravenlock Trade Fair
Many places in the fair, any player interested in responding is welcome...
"I'm a represntative of a group that would be very interested in having some of this cloning technology."
"Which group do you represent?"
"I'm not at liberty to say."
---
Elsewhere at the trade fair.
"Coordinates of all the warships at the fair follow, updates will occur once a minute."
Ravenlock Trade Fair
Many places in the fair, any player interested in responding is welcome...
"I'm a represntative of a group that would be very interested in having some of this cloning technology."
"Which group do you represent?"
"I'm not at liberty to say."
---
Elsewhere at the trade fair.
"Coordinates of all the warships at the fair follow, updates will occur once a minute."
"preemptive killing of cops might not be such a bad idea from a personal saftey[sic] standpoint..." --Keevan Colton
"There's a word for bias you can't see: Yours." -- William Saletan
"There's a word for bias you can't see: Yours." -- William Saletan
-
Thirdfain
- The Player of Games
- Posts: 6924
- Joined: 2003-02-13 09:24pm
- Location: Never underestimate the staggering drawing power of the Garden State.
Ark Sector, Ravenlock Space
Ravenlock Trade Fair
"This is Inishan Defense Force destroyer "Ebon Blade" to Ravenlock command. We have been pinged for the 6th fucking time now by active sensors, source unknown. Are you fuckers tracking us with deep scans, or is something fishy going on?"
-/ooc Come on now, there are thousands of ships here. You'd have to be actively checking them out to figure out which ones were warships... Of course, the traffic control operators would know, but I didn't notice you capturing or interrogating them....
Ravenlock Trade Fair
"This is Inishan Defense Force destroyer "Ebon Blade" to Ravenlock command. We have been pinged for the 6th fucking time now by active sensors, source unknown. Are you fuckers tracking us with deep scans, or is something fishy going on?"
-/ooc Come on now, there are thousands of ships here. You'd have to be actively checking them out to figure out which ones were warships... Of course, the traffic control operators would know, but I didn't notice you capturing or interrogating them....
Under capitalism, man exploits man. Under communism, it's just the opposite.
John Kenneth Galbraith (1908 - )
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Alyrium Denryle
- Minister of Sin
- Posts: 22224
- Joined: 2002-07-11 08:34pm
- Location: The Deep Desert
- Contact:
"This is the Fast Destroyer Kratz we have been picking up active sensor bursts hitting us about one a minute. With your permission Ravenlock COmmand, we will attempt to loate the source"
GALE Force Biological Agent/
BOTM/Great Dolphin Conspiracy/
Entomology and Evolutionary Biology Subdirector:SD.net Dept. of Biological Sciences
There is Grandeur in the View of Life; it fills me with a Deep Wonder, and Intense Cynicism.
Factio republicanum delenda est
BOTM/Great Dolphin Conspiracy/
Entomology and Evolutionary Biology Subdirector:SD.net Dept. of Biological Sciences
There is Grandeur in the View of Life; it fills me with a Deep Wonder, and Intense Cynicism.
Factio republicanum delenda est
"Don't fear, I'm not making a speech, but if you wish to see the rest of Earth be our guests, though be careful a good portion of it is severly damage, we have a tour planned out for you though, we thought you might like to tour Earth tommorow we'll set everything up and you can begin the tour then. I'll get the itinerary for you after the signing. ANything else you want to talk about? We've still got a couple minutes of time to kill."Stormbringer wrote:"There is no need for a speech, what we are signing, what we are doing here will be a more powerful message than anything conveyed in a speech. I have no objection to you speaking but I don't feel the need to make one. A few words will suffice."Straha wrote:"Ten minutes, maybe a tad more. It's really simple, we go in you can make a speach if you'd like, sign the treaty, answer a few questions, have a photo-shoot, leave. Dinner later on inside the palace, with a few VIPs, and that's it. Securtiy detail is trippled and the published itinerary is so far off that no one will even know if you're on planet. So, can I get you anything to eat or drink?"
"The rest of the agenda sounds intriguing. I have never been to Earth before and would enjoy the oppurtunity to stay a bit longer."
'After 9/11, it was "You're with us or your with the terrorists." Now its "You're with Straha or you support racism."' ' - The Romulan Republic
'You're a bully putting on an air of civility while saying that everything western and/or capitalistic must be bad, and a lot of other posters (loomer, Stas Bush, Gandalf) are also going along with it for their own personal reasons (Stas in particular is looking through rose colored glasses)' - Darth Yan
'You're a bully putting on an air of civility while saying that everything western and/or capitalistic must be bad, and a lot of other posters (loomer, Stas Bush, Gandalf) are also going along with it for their own personal reasons (Stas in particular is looking through rose colored glasses)' - Darth Yan
-
Stormbringer
- King of Democracy
- Posts: 22678
- Joined: 2002-07-15 11:22pm
"Actually, I do have a topic which I wish to bring up. We have been contacted by a nation called the Nyll Empire and they've requested military assistance. I was hoping that you might be able to get involved in that too so as to better enable us to help them. I think they might make a very good ally if we can convince them to join us."Straha wrote:"Don't fear, I'm not making a speech, but if you wish to see the rest of Earth be our guests, though be careful a good portion of it is severly damage, we have a tour planned out for you though, we thought you might like to tour Earth tommorow we'll set everything up and you can begin the tour then. I'll get the itinerary for you after the signing. ANything else you want to talk about? We've still got a couple minutes of time to kill."
-
Captain tycho
- Has Elected to Receive
- Posts: 5039
- Joined: 2002-12-04 06:35pm
- Location: Jewy McJew Land
Ravenlock Space, Ravenlock Trade Fair
A small convoy of Atlas-class freighters and their escorts, a trio of destroyers and a heavy cruiser, slowly exited hyperspace, as was common when one didn't want to surprise an ally by simply popping into existence. Once the conversion to n-space was complete, they folded in their Warshawski sails and entered orbit, transmitting a message to traffic control. "This is the Royal Manticoran Merchant Service, ID code 111-4562E, with 3 military escorts, requesting permission to land. Over."
A small convoy of Atlas-class freighters and their escorts, a trio of destroyers and a heavy cruiser, slowly exited hyperspace, as was common when one didn't want to surprise an ally by simply popping into existence. Once the conversion to n-space was complete, they folded in their Warshawski sails and entered orbit, transmitting a message to traffic control. "This is the Royal Manticoran Merchant Service, ID code 111-4562E, with 3 military escorts, requesting permission to land. Over."
Captain Tycho!
The worst fucker ever!
The Best reciever ever!
The worst fucker ever!
The Best reciever ever!
-
Stormbringer
- King of Democracy
- Posts: 22678
- Joined: 2002-07-15 11:22pm
Darksider wrote:"Acknowledged."
The small diplomatic convoy moved along the transmitted path, and landed on Trondheim.
Ambassador Toorth walked out and greeted the Asgard diplomatic personell.
"Hello."
"Welcome, Ambassador Toorth. I am Special Secretay Friedland." The man gave a wave in the direction of a waiting car. "Would you like me to see you to your quarters or to the meeting straight away?"
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Captain tycho
- Has Elected to Receive
- Posts: 5039
- Joined: 2002-12-04 06:35pm
- Location: Jewy McJew Land
(OOC: I assume I get permission to land.)
The convoy's freighters set down at the trade fair, unloading stacks of missiles, power-armor, pulsers, and even a squadron of crated LACs. Within a few minutes, a commercial began transmitting:
A swarm of missiles are seen heading towards a generic space fleet, then getting cut down by PD. Voiceover: "Is this you? Are you tired of having spent billions of dollars on missile cruisers when your enemy's point defense just laughs at you? Well then, stop them from laughing with a new order of Model-7 Royal Manticoran Navy missiles today! Equipped with the latest ECM, tracking, and defensive systems, the Model-7 is the most powerful and advanced missile known to man- and alien-kind. Driven at above lightspeed by a military-grade impeller, guided by some of the most advanced autonomous targetting computers around today, and equipped with side-walls strong enough to shrug off everything except concentrated point-defense fire. That is, if they can hit it! Also included, for free, is a top-of-the-line ECM module, which creates a massive field of gravitic and electronic static, blinding enemy-defenses but still allowing your missles to operate safely*. And if thats not enough, we're throwing in a FREE fusion-penetrator warhead with every missile we sell! Buy now and get a hundred missiles for the low, low price of 50 million standard trade units.
*Not guranteeded to work above the standard ECM limit. Use higher-ECM settings at your own risk.
The convoy's freighters set down at the trade fair, unloading stacks of missiles, power-armor, pulsers, and even a squadron of crated LACs. Within a few minutes, a commercial began transmitting:
A swarm of missiles are seen heading towards a generic space fleet, then getting cut down by PD. Voiceover: "Is this you? Are you tired of having spent billions of dollars on missile cruisers when your enemy's point defense just laughs at you? Well then, stop them from laughing with a new order of Model-7 Royal Manticoran Navy missiles today! Equipped with the latest ECM, tracking, and defensive systems, the Model-7 is the most powerful and advanced missile known to man- and alien-kind. Driven at above lightspeed by a military-grade impeller, guided by some of the most advanced autonomous targetting computers around today, and equipped with side-walls strong enough to shrug off everything except concentrated point-defense fire. That is, if they can hit it! Also included, for free, is a top-of-the-line ECM module, which creates a massive field of gravitic and electronic static, blinding enemy-defenses but still allowing your missles to operate safely*. And if thats not enough, we're throwing in a FREE fusion-penetrator warhead with every missile we sell! Buy now and get a hundred missiles for the low, low price of 50 million standard trade units.
*Not guranteeded to work above the standard ECM limit. Use higher-ECM settings at your own risk.
Captain Tycho!
The worst fucker ever!
The Best reciever ever!
The worst fucker ever!
The Best reciever ever!
"Shit. There's more warships there than we can reasonably expect to be able to fight, and still be able to run away. We're going to abort the mission."Beowulf wrote:Elsewhere at the trade fair.
"Coordinates of all the warships at the fair follow, updates will occur once a minute."
"Yes, sir. I'll inform Team 678."
"preemptive killing of cops might not be such a bad idea from a personal saftey[sic] standpoint..." --Keevan Colton
"There's a word for bias you can't see: Yours." -- William Saletan
"There's a word for bias you can't see: Yours." -- William Saletan
~Do you think we're alone Neosocartes?~
= Of course not. We know for a fact that there are other entities out there.=
~But have they noticed us? We're weak and wounded, a prime target for the savage organisms.~
=Then we shall see how we fair. They are not only savage, but unpredictable.=[/i]
= Of course not. We know for a fact that there are other entities out there.=
~But have they noticed us? We're weak and wounded, a prime target for the savage organisms.~
=Then we shall see how we fair. They are not only savage, but unpredictable.=[/i]
I've committed the greatest sin, worse than anything done here today. I sold half my soul to the devil. -Ivan Isaac, the Half Souled Knight
Mecha Maniac
Mecha Maniac
Ambassador Sumner Welles came up, riding a shuttle escalator (OOC: Think shuttle pad on Death Star style thingy) while adjusting his suit, behind him ten members of the Monacoran Tenth, commandeered from below, stood at attention. After making sure he looked somewhat presentable he walked forward and greeted the newcomers.Captain tycho wrote:Earth orbit, Monocoran space
A pinnance dropped from the Aurora, and glided down swiftly through the atmosphere, a pair of LACs tailing it. The pinnance came down over the Royal Palace, and set down gracefully on the landing pad along with the LACs. A ramp slid open, and out marched a dozen Marines in dress uniform, ceremonial rifles in hand. Then came Countess Tyrel and 3 of her advisors. The Countess stood patiently, waiting for a Monocoran escort.
"Welcome to Earth, we are honored to have your presence here. Care to come down to my office to discuss matters, the Political Prince is currently busy with a matter of the utmost urgency right now, he can however deal with you later in the week, though.
'After 9/11, it was "You're with us or your with the terrorists." Now its "You're with Straha or you support racism."' ' - The Romulan Republic
'You're a bully putting on an air of civility while saying that everything western and/or capitalistic must be bad, and a lot of other posters (loomer, Stas Bush, Gandalf) are also going along with it for their own personal reasons (Stas in particular is looking through rose colored glasses)' - Darth Yan
'You're a bully putting on an air of civility while saying that everything western and/or capitalistic must be bad, and a lot of other posters (loomer, Stas Bush, Gandalf) are also going along with it for their own personal reasons (Stas in particular is looking through rose colored glasses)' - Darth Yan
"A path is clear for you, don't worry about anyone getting in the way. Peace of the void be with you gentlemen, good luck."Rogue 9 wrote:First Carrier Battle Group, Third Fleet. Earth Orbit
"Montagesque, this is the NRS Excelsior. Our detachment to the hunts for the Overseer has ended with the successful conclusion of the search. We are breaking orbit to head back to Praetor now. We request a vector to a clear spacelane so we can safely move the fleet out of orbit."
'After 9/11, it was "You're with us or your with the terrorists." Now its "You're with Straha or you support racism."' ' - The Romulan Republic
'You're a bully putting on an air of civility while saying that everything western and/or capitalistic must be bad, and a lot of other posters (loomer, Stas Bush, Gandalf) are also going along with it for their own personal reasons (Stas in particular is looking through rose colored glasses)' - Darth Yan
'You're a bully putting on an air of civility while saying that everything western and/or capitalistic must be bad, and a lot of other posters (loomer, Stas Bush, Gandalf) are also going along with it for their own personal reasons (Stas in particular is looking through rose colored glasses)' - Darth Yan
-
Rogue 9
- Scrapping TIEs since 1997
- Posts: 18683
- Joined: 2003-11-12 01:10pm
- Location: Classified
- Contact:
"Acknowledged, Montagesque. Thank you and good fortune with the terraforming." The comms officer switched off his transmitter and looked out the window at the brown, toxic patches on his species' homeworld. "It really will be terraforming, in the literal sense," he whispered.Straha wrote:"A path is clear for you, don't worry about anyone getting in the way. Peace of the void be with you gentlemen, good luck."Rogue 9 wrote:First Carrier Battle Group, Third Fleet. Earth Orbit
"Montagesque, this is the NRS Excelsior. Our detachment to the hunts for the Overseer has ended with the successful conclusion of the search. We are breaking orbit to head back to Praetor now. We request a vector to a clear spacelane so we can safely move the fleet out of orbit."
Admiral Lansing settled back in his chair. "Ops, form up the fleet. Helm, set course for the Praetor corridor. We're moving out."
"Aye, sir."
The carrier battle group formed up around the Excelsior and Broadsword as they passed through lunar orbit. Soon after, they engaged their hyperdrives and jumped for the Nashtar star cluster, leaving behind the homeworld of most of the crewmen. Not a few were frustrated at not being dispatched against the Overseer, but there would be a next time. With the current state of the galaxy, that was a given.
It's Rogue, not Rouge!
HAB | KotL | VRWC/ELC/CDA | TRotR | The Anti-Confederate | Sluggite | Gamer | Blogger | Staff Reporter | Student | Musician
HAB | KotL | VRWC/ELC/CDA | TRotR | The Anti-Confederate | Sluggite | Gamer | Blogger | Staff Reporter | Student | Musician
-
Alyrium Denryle
- Minister of Sin
- Posts: 22224
- Joined: 2002-07-11 08:34pm
- Location: The Deep Desert
- Contact:
<Tightbeam Transmission to Ravenlock Command>
Ravenlock command, we have isolated the source of those scans. we are sending you the coordinates
Ravenlock command, we have isolated the source of those scans. we are sending you the coordinates
GALE Force Biological Agent/
BOTM/Great Dolphin Conspiracy/
Entomology and Evolutionary Biology Subdirector:SD.net Dept. of Biological Sciences
There is Grandeur in the View of Life; it fills me with a Deep Wonder, and Intense Cynicism.
Factio republicanum delenda est
BOTM/Great Dolphin Conspiracy/
Entomology and Evolutionary Biology Subdirector:SD.net Dept. of Biological Sciences
There is Grandeur in the View of Life; it fills me with a Deep Wonder, and Intense Cynicism.
Factio republicanum delenda est
Trade Conference, Demonstration Ship
The salesman stood up on the podium, surrounding him was a rather large assembly of army officers from various nations. It was the first time that the Monacoran Army had ever sold something at a trade show, ever. The majority of the crowd was looking towards the gun rack he had set up, but there was some confusion over why he had long rectangular boxes standing across from the rack on stage. Finally, just as he began his shpiel, the boxes opened showing suited dummies.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, today on this very fine occassion we present to you the MXC battle suit, Mark II. Today the Monacoran army is on the Mark V, but this one has some of the better features of the suit, including the month-long battery packs, actuators in the arms and legs to help deal with recoil and increase running speed respectivley, and the hydralic power in the suit which allows it to process waste and run even in situations where it has limited to no battery power. Would anyone out there like to help me with a demonstration?"
He already had his mark picked, a captain in what looked to be Nashtari uniform waving him on up he brought him to center stage.
"Here ye go sir, come here. This, this is the finest ground assault weapon you'll ever find, Army standard issue, Marine too, come on over now the dummy over there. Pick the four weakest points and fire a shot into each one of them. Come on, don't be shy!"
The soldier dropped to one knee, took careful aim, shouted out the warning that he was about to fire, and fired.
"Good job, nice work, come on over... see the rounds penetrated the upper layer of the armor, broke through the liquid, and got stopped in the second layer. Long before it would have touched human flesh. And if you wait just a minute the suit heals itself, and look there they go, the suit actually pushes the bullets out of it and then heals itself. If you ever get the chance to repair it out of battle it's simple, you simply cut out the damaged area, recognizable because it is off-colour, and put a patch in its place. After the suit heals it's good as new. The targeting systems inside the...."
The speech went on for ten more minutes, and the suits resilience to both flechette rounds, and its near invulnerability to most hand held laser guns. Finally he drew the pitch to a close, picking up a cylinder, pressing a button on it so the top dropped into four seperate pieces, still attached to the device.
"And finally ladies and gentlemen, whichever or whoever gets one of the four batches of two thousand suits also gets one hundred of these nifty devices thrown in for good measure. This is a 'Thaumoturgical Dampener', don't look at me I didn't pick the name, what it does is supress magic in a selected radius around it. With lower grade enchantments and spells it basically eliminates them, with higher grade enchantments, like a magically locked chest we've got around here which I'll show those who wish to see it after the show, it weakens there effect, making unopenable chests openable, with a little force. We'll also be selling plans for these devices later, though there are only a limited number of plans that we are going to sell. If none of this strikes your fancy, we've also got a T-Shirt stall somewhere in the main ship."
(OOC: Don't know how to plan the auction, if you guys want just PM me about how much you're willing to pay and how many batches at that price you're willing to buy.)
The salesman stood up on the podium, surrounding him was a rather large assembly of army officers from various nations. It was the first time that the Monacoran Army had ever sold something at a trade show, ever. The majority of the crowd was looking towards the gun rack he had set up, but there was some confusion over why he had long rectangular boxes standing across from the rack on stage. Finally, just as he began his shpiel, the boxes opened showing suited dummies.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, today on this very fine occassion we present to you the MXC battle suit, Mark II. Today the Monacoran army is on the Mark V, but this one has some of the better features of the suit, including the month-long battery packs, actuators in the arms and legs to help deal with recoil and increase running speed respectivley, and the hydralic power in the suit which allows it to process waste and run even in situations where it has limited to no battery power. Would anyone out there like to help me with a demonstration?"
He already had his mark picked, a captain in what looked to be Nashtari uniform waving him on up he brought him to center stage.
"Here ye go sir, come here. This, this is the finest ground assault weapon you'll ever find, Army standard issue, Marine too, come on over now the dummy over there. Pick the four weakest points and fire a shot into each one of them. Come on, don't be shy!"
The soldier dropped to one knee, took careful aim, shouted out the warning that he was about to fire, and fired.
"Good job, nice work, come on over... see the rounds penetrated the upper layer of the armor, broke through the liquid, and got stopped in the second layer. Long before it would have touched human flesh. And if you wait just a minute the suit heals itself, and look there they go, the suit actually pushes the bullets out of it and then heals itself. If you ever get the chance to repair it out of battle it's simple, you simply cut out the damaged area, recognizable because it is off-colour, and put a patch in its place. After the suit heals it's good as new. The targeting systems inside the...."
The speech went on for ten more minutes, and the suits resilience to both flechette rounds, and its near invulnerability to most hand held laser guns. Finally he drew the pitch to a close, picking up a cylinder, pressing a button on it so the top dropped into four seperate pieces, still attached to the device.
"And finally ladies and gentlemen, whichever or whoever gets one of the four batches of two thousand suits also gets one hundred of these nifty devices thrown in for good measure. This is a 'Thaumoturgical Dampener', don't look at me I didn't pick the name, what it does is supress magic in a selected radius around it. With lower grade enchantments and spells it basically eliminates them, with higher grade enchantments, like a magically locked chest we've got around here which I'll show those who wish to see it after the show, it weakens there effect, making unopenable chests openable, with a little force. We'll also be selling plans for these devices later, though there are only a limited number of plans that we are going to sell. If none of this strikes your fancy, we've also got a T-Shirt stall somewhere in the main ship."
(OOC: Don't know how to plan the auction, if you guys want just PM me about how much you're willing to pay and how many batches at that price you're willing to buy.)
'After 9/11, it was "You're with us or your with the terrorists." Now its "You're with Straha or you support racism."' ' - The Romulan Republic
'You're a bully putting on an air of civility while saying that everything western and/or capitalistic must be bad, and a lot of other posters (loomer, Stas Bush, Gandalf) are also going along with it for their own personal reasons (Stas in particular is looking through rose colored glasses)' - Darth Yan
'You're a bully putting on an air of civility while saying that everything western and/or capitalistic must be bad, and a lot of other posters (loomer, Stas Bush, Gandalf) are also going along with it for their own personal reasons (Stas in particular is looking through rose colored glasses)' - Darth Yan
-
Hotfoot
- Avatar of Confusion
- Posts: 5835
- Joined: 2002-10-12 04:38pm
- Location: Peace River: Badlands, Terra Nova Winter 1936
- Contact:
"Well, if you're not at liberty to say, I'm afraid I can't really help you. The contracts are available on the Fair's network for you to read. Please help yourself,” the booth manager responded.Beowulf wrote:Ark Sector, Ravenlock Space
Ravenlock Trade Fair
Many places in the fair, any player interested in responding is welcome...
"I'm a represntative of a group that would be very interested in having some of this cloning technology."
"Which group do you represent?"
"I'm not at liberty to say."
The contract was long and full of the standard legal jargon. It was obvious the Consortium had gone over it with a cadre of legal professionals. Several points would stand out on reading the contract. The reanimation facilities would be kept in Consortium controlled space only, along with the clones. The Soulcatcher technology would be available to rent, and would be delivered only if needed (and for a very high price, including the trained technicians who would be required to operate the equipment). Needless to say, it would be preferable to most to meet the Consortium halfway at this point. It was noted that any powers or organizations with a hostile standing towards the Consortium would be denied continued service, and the Consortium reserved the right to refuse reanimation until the end of the hostilities.
The limitations of the technology were also laid bare. Soulcatcher would not unnaturally extend the effects of prolong. In some cases, a mild increase in longevity was noted, but once the brain underwent advanced stages of degeneration, the process was worthless, as all subsequent Soulcatcher copies were mindless vegetables. Any memories generated between the last backup and time of death were lost, and any cybernetic enhancements would have to be re-implanted at the cost of the customer.
Only a few thousand slots were available, and the prices were set to be prohibitively high. The galaxy, however, was a big place. They would all be filled, one way or another. The profit from the sales would be tremendous.
Do not meddle in the affairs of insomniacs, for they are cranky and can do things to you while you sleep.
The Realm of Confusion
"Every time you talk about Teal'c, I keep imagining Thor's ass. Thank you very much for that, you fucking fucker." -Marcao
SG-14: Because in some cases, "Recon" means "Blow up a fucking planet or die trying."
SilCore Wiki! Come take a look!
The Realm of Confusion
"Every time you talk about Teal'c, I keep imagining Thor's ass. Thank you very much for that, you fucking fucker." -Marcao
SG-14: Because in some cases, "Recon" means "Blow up a fucking planet or die trying."
SilCore Wiki! Come take a look!
-
Captain tycho
- Has Elected to Receive
- Posts: 5039
- Joined: 2002-12-04 06:35pm
- Location: Jewy McJew Land
The Countess snapped her fingers, and the Marines behind her fell into lock-step formation, and she smiled again. "Lead on, sir."Straha wrote:Ambassador Sumner Welles came up, riding a shuttle escalator (OOC: Think shuttle pad on Death Star style thingy) while adjusting his suit, behind him ten members of the Monacoran Tenth, commandeered from below, stood at attention. After making sure he looked somewhat presentable he walked forward and greeted the newcomers.Captain tycho wrote:Earth orbit, Monocoran space
A pinnance dropped from the Aurora, and glided down swiftly through the atmosphere, a pair of LACs tailing it. The pinnance came down over the Royal Palace, and set down gracefully on the landing pad along with the LACs. A ramp slid open, and out marched a dozen Marines in dress uniform, ceremonial rifles in hand. Then came Countess Tyrel and 3 of her advisors. The Countess stood patiently, waiting for a Monocoran escort.
"Welcome to Earth, we are honored to have your presence here. Care to come down to my office to discuss matters, the Political Prince is currently busy with a matter of the utmost urgency right now, he can however deal with you later in the week, though.
(In the office)
The Countess reclined gracefully in her seat, sipping a small glass of Sphinxian wine, and thrust out a datapad. "We are here to offer an alliance. The pad contains jusr about everything you'll need to know. Because of our formerly close ties with Old Earth, and because of our recent civil war, we feel a strong alliance would be of great benefit to both our goverments. Our fleet is quite strong at the moment, our economy booming, yet we have little to no knowledge of the rest of Known Space and the other goverments."
(Inside the pad:)
Point 1: The Navy will assist in the defense and aid of Monocora against her enemies, and Monocora shall do likewise.
Point 2: A free-exchange program of all non-classified technologies shall be set up between Manticore and Monocora.
Point 3: The Royal Merchant Marine Service will have trading rights in Monocoran space, as will private civilian interests, and vice versa.
Captain Tycho!
The worst fucker ever!
The Best reciever ever!
The worst fucker ever!
The Best reciever ever!
"I think you misunderstand me. I'm not interested in this blasmphemous Soulcatcher technology. I'm instead interested in the technology that you use to make the clones that you subsequently implant the memories into."Hotfoot wrote: "Well, if you're not at liberty to say, I'm afraid I can't really help you. The contracts are available on the Fair's network for you to read. Please help yourself,” the booth manager responded.
"preemptive killing of cops might not be such a bad idea from a personal saftey[sic] standpoint..." --Keevan Colton
"There's a word for bias you can't see: Yours." -- William Saletan
"There's a word for bias you can't see: Yours." -- William Saletan
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Hotfoot
- Avatar of Confusion
- Posts: 5835
- Joined: 2002-10-12 04:38pm
- Location: Peace River: Badlands, Terra Nova Winter 1936
- Contact:
"Ah, right. Well, regardless, it still helps to know who it is we're selling to. It's a bad way to run a business if all of a sudden it turns out you're selling weapons to terrorists, you know?" The booth manager smiled, biting back the urge to laugh at the man. He was told that religion had survived, but blasmphemy? Soulcatcher? It was only a name, after all, and who really believed in souls anyway?Beowulf wrote:"I think you misunderstand me. I'm not interested in this blasmphemous Soulcatcher technology. I'm instead interested in the technology that you use to make the clones that you subsequently implant the memories into."
Do not meddle in the affairs of insomniacs, for they are cranky and can do things to you while you sleep.
The Realm of Confusion
"Every time you talk about Teal'c, I keep imagining Thor's ass. Thank you very much for that, you fucking fucker." -Marcao
SG-14: Because in some cases, "Recon" means "Blow up a fucking planet or die trying."
SilCore Wiki! Come take a look!
The Realm of Confusion
"Every time you talk about Teal'c, I keep imagining Thor's ass. Thank you very much for that, you fucking fucker." -Marcao
SG-14: Because in some cases, "Recon" means "Blow up a fucking planet or die trying."
SilCore Wiki! Come take a look!