A-Wing_Slash wrote:This is Amassador Pitsiark, of the Grand Republic of the Sky Bear, aboard the GRS Kullervo. I apologize for our tardiness, and I hope that we did not keep the Golden Sky vessels waiting.
Barely had the communications officer aboard the GRS Kullervo finished sending the message, when he received one in reply. As was usual for the people of the Golden Sky Combine, her message was warm, though concise. It almost seemed that they viewed extended pleasantries a waste of time.
"Ambassador Pitsiark, I am Archon Aya Brea of the Golden Sky Combine, aboard the transport ship GSCN Calm Gaze. I am honored to meet you."
Just as swift was the reply to the lead Straltoc vessel.
Academia Nut wrote:"Greetings Archon Brea, I am Captain Jurloc of the battleship Grenla, here to provide an escort for the ambassadors of the Golden Sky Combine and the Grand Republic of the Sky Bear to Crulmathi, capital world of the Federation. We thank you for coming here and ask of you a small amount of patience as we wait for the other delegates to arrive. In the mean time, as a matter of protocol would you allow one of our sensor ships to perform a deep scan of your ships? We are primarily looking for any biological material that might be inadvertently harmful to our ecosystem."
"Captain Jurloc, we are willing to accede to your request."
Just as swiftly, the strong shields surrounding both ships dropped. Sensors were able to see a few plants, a small mammalian-derived pet or two, and twenty five strange humanoid readings coming from the larger vessel, as well as the Gliesans aboard both ships.
"Thank you Archon Brea, your ship checks out, although we request that any flora or fauna, including food bearing seeds or capable of reproducing under the correct conditions, be kept aboard your ship. We have had more than one unfortunate incident involving exotic species during our various colonization endeavours. We recommend you not take anything biological from our worlds either as there are several innocuous-looking species that can reproduce out of control without natural predator-prey interactions," Captain Jurloc informs the Golden Sky Combine ships, thinking Damn Tribbles in another portion of his mind.
Turning his attention to the ship from the Grand Republic, Captain Jurloc says, "No, your timing was impeccable Ambassador. If you would consent to the same scans as the Golden Sky Combine, we can then be on our way to Crulmathi. It is about a day and a half from this system."
I love learning. Teach me. I will listen. You know, if Christian dogma included a ten-foot tall Jesus walking around in battle armor and smashing retarded cultists with a gaint mace, I might just convert - Noble Ire on Jesus smashing Scientologists
Chamaran diplomatic Yacht ‘Quintana reborn’, earth orbit
“It’s a prretty planet isn’t it”
“Yes mistrress diplomat.” Says Chesska and smiles, shaking her head softly, Pennera stops looking out of the viewport and turns to her aide “We should be down therre, this coalition intrrigues me” “Yes but rememberr the queen is only sending you to sound the trreaty out, therre’s no ring on yourr fingerr.” Pennara frowns at Chesska’s observation and then with a tailflick heads for the open hatchway in the middle of the floor “Come we must be going, I wouldn’t want to miss morre of the prroceedings, give my regarrds to Gess and the shipmistrress.” She says as she drops down the hatchway, her aide following after silently.
A minute later a tremor vibrates through the hull and Chesska watches out the window as the Yacht’s boat is launched and accelerates away towards the earth, then she turns and walks into one of the deeper parts of the ship. “You done keeping us waiting Chesska?” “Had to keep an eye on the diplomat, she might object after all.” Says the feline as she joins the other four in the room, three open topped coffinlike metal cases taking up most of the floorspace, Chesska adjusting the slender wire and circuit band that rests across her forehead. “You three ready? The other nine are preparing for stage two.” Says the feline who’s busily tapping away at the control panel linked to the three coffins “Yes Gess” says Chesska as she and the other two psychers slip into the familiar padding of the ‘coffins’. Gess taps three buttons in sequence and then smiles as just before the coffins close she tosses a hypospray into them. Chesska slowly takes off the suppressor band, closing her eyes in the darkness, stroking the hypospray as she listens to the thoughts of her three sisters of mind. The feline starting to float as fluid fills the chamber, supporting and surrounding her in neutral temperature water. “you may now inject, rememberr yourr mission” sounds over a tiny speaker in the corner. Chesska smiles happily, like all of the royal psychers addicted to Cee she wastes no time in placing the hypospray against her arm and emptying it into herself.
Beyond the sensory deprivation of the coffin the world explodes into sensation around Chesska, thoughts, sights, sounds, the high from it making her feel like god and threatening to overwhelm her till she starts filtering out the other voices. But not a god alone, the other two minds with her, taking a moment to share an intimate exhaltation before with the drug coursing through her and her sisters they turn their minds eye upon the world below. Listening to the thoughts of a billion minds, flitting between them, espersense getting visions of different places, slowly their search tightens, tightens, till they’re looking at the minds of one nation, getting to know one kind. Their mission, to know them of the united states of America.
((intelligence operations, phase one commenced.))
Last edited by Darkevilme on 2007-08-13 11:26am, edited 1 time in total.
Academia Nut wrote:"Thank you Archon Brea, your ship checks out, although we request that any flora or fauna, including food bearing seeds or capable of reproducing under the correct conditions, be kept aboard your ship. We have had more than one unfortunate incident involving exotic species during our various colonization endeavours. We recommend you not take anything biological from our worlds either as there are several innocuous-looking species that can reproduce out of control without natural predator-prey interactions," Captain Jurloc informs the Golden Sky Combine ships, thinking Damn Tribbles in another portion of his mind.
Still having the communications channel open with the Golden Sky Combine ships, Captail Jurloc was able to see Archon Brea stifle a laugh with a valiant measure of success almost a second following his message. The short delay before her reaction almost made him wonder if she'd heard his thought. "Captain Jurloc, I understand your precaution. We will bring naught but ourselves outside of the ship."
Bugsby wrote:Dwarven vessels, if it turns out these mercenaries have done nothing wrong, it doesn't matter who stands up and takes responsibility if our ships open fire - we'll still take heat. Unless an immediate threat presents itself, our guns stay silent. That being said, we share your concerns about the role of the Nova frigate in this incident. I assure you, we will get to the bottom of this. Threaten the Nova yourselves, if you want. While you are doing that, it would be best if you prepared a boarding party.
Since the Nova warship is cooperating, and have given the cargo to your fleet for safekeeping, it seems that my earlier fears that they would try and flee the system were unfounded. Still, I'm keeping my crew on high alert in case they still end up being responsible for this act. I will take your advice and form a party to investigate the ship.
Outer Defence Monitoring Centre 'Sky Eye',
Kuiper Belt (equivalent), Kiroter'nah Colony System Beta
"Confirmed co-ordinator, those are definitely FTL traces. Eight of them, approaching the Nephilim border." Sensor specialist Gyer'kett had been frantically trying to clean up the signal for the last three chronons.
"Can you resolve any further details? Any idea of the ship type?"
"Not at this range. Could be cruisers, could be transports."
"Taxaahnis, you're sure they can't be allied ships?"
"Negative co-ordinator, no transponder code, they do not match anything on file for our ships, NGTO allies or authorised visitors. Still waiting for response from special operations."
Gyer'kett spoke up "Co-ordinator, they're heading right into anomaly field #3, haven't all our allies been warned to steer clear of that?"
Zakeraas's decision was immediate. His voice took on a deadly serious tone. "Contact Black Lightning, eight probable hostiles inbound, they are to notify Nephilim forces and take Hailstorm group to a forward interception point at maximum speed."
Kiroter'nah communications technology was by far the fastest available, having the closest ship relay the signal to the Nephilim would take a fraction of the time that a direct hyperwave signal would take.
"Pending Nephilim orders of course. How far out are Blizzard group?"
"Three days, best speed." Fortunate that they were en-route already.
"Vector them to the closest assured interception point, tell them to copy to the rest of the NGTO force. With luck those anomalies will hold the hostiles for a while, but this may only be the first wave. Alert strategic co-ordination and signal all perimeter stations to go to condition delta. Oh and copy an abstract to xeno relations, omit the classified units." This would be a long shift.
---
PRIORITY ONE MESSAGE
@TO NEPHILIM STRATEGIC COMMAND
@COPY ALL NGTO C&C CENTRES
EIGHT UNKNOWN CONTACTS DETECTED BY KIROTER'NAH QUANTUM ECHO STATION TRAJECTORY FROM HERALD SPACE TO NEPHILIM SPACE
CONTACTS DO NOT MATCH ANY NGTO AUTHORISED VESSELS MUST ASSUME LIKELY HOSTILE INTENT
RAPID INTERVENTION GROUP HAILSTORM VECTORED TO INTERCEPT PENDING NEPHILIM INSTRUCTIONS
ALL NGTO UNITS IN THEATRE STAND READY TO ASSIST NEPHILIM FORCES
Last edited by Starglider on 2007-06-25 11:32pm, edited 1 time in total.
Two ships met in utter silence, communicating only by the tightest whisker lasers. Both were modified personnel transports, and both handled significantly smoother than would normally be the case. An observer would have to look quite closely to detect the carefully hidden weapons emplacements on both craft. One was completely unmarked, the other had 'Amistadt' playfully scrawled out in extremely faded letters.
The docking umbilical extended, and a group of a dozen suited figures crossed over. Lacking entirely in spit and polish, they nonetheless carried an impressive assortment of high powered hardware, and were careful to space themselves and cover all angles. Awaiting them was a similar group of eight, casually arrayed around the bay, but no more than a step away from the best cover available despite their nonchalance.
The lead figure of the newcomers keyed his com "Closers"
One of the waiting group replied "Drakensis"
The newcomer responded "Thrint"
With this exchange, both parties relaxed, and another figure in a far more elaborate suit made his way across, while inside the bay, a cargo door opened, and a group of young, attractive, and mostly female humans were forced into motion through it, shackled together in groups of ten. Several were sobbing, a couple glared at their captors with defiance, but most seemed broken and entirely resigned to their fate. A man in a shabby looking, but first-rate skinsuit followed them, moving to meet the ostentatiously clad late arrival, who called out "Rengard, you thieving bastard, what do you have for me this time".
"More of the usual Tilot, two hundred first rate pieces for your buyers." The two men walked along with the air of old buddies, as Tilot gave a cursory inspection of the chained people.
"One of these days you're going to have to tell me how you get so much prime merchandise you know. Not fair that you corner the market like this"
"Ways and means m'boy, ways and means. Besides, I take the acquisition risks, and you get a more than fair profit out of it. You want to make a substantial commitment, maybe we can talk about giving you access to some of the supply side" Rengard replied, passing over a datafile.
"Not just yet, maybe in six months I'll have assets freed up." Tiolot perused the file, grunting " A good mix I see"
"Ayup, all the high demand characteristics in that bunch. Worth at least 1.5 mill in standard heavy metal credits I'd say."
"You saying it doesn't give it a damned bit of truth. Maybe with this quality I can give you two hundred thou and still keep my boat running."
"Ah, but you haven't seen the best yet." Rengard snapped his fingers, and another chain was brought in. Leading it were three avian humanoids of ethereal grace, and seven humans that simply exuded desire." Those three unfortunates we saved drifting out in a shuttle in the middle of nowhere, and the others were given the full courtesan package by someone before falling into my care."
"Rennie, you never did have any appreciation for the art of haggling did you?"
"Can't say that I have patience for the bullshit, Lot, not when there's more raw material out there, so tragically under-utilised."
"One point five it is. Boys, get the goods" A minute later, three countergrav pallets sluggishly traversed the umbilical, as the manacled property changed hands. "Next meet up in six weeks?"
"Four if you can do it. I've got some new sources that look high-yield in the short-term but might not hold forever, so they have to be milked while I can."
"I'll drop you a message with Chang if I can't quite make four. Next time." with that, he turned and moved back to his ship, the umbilical retracting behind him. Both ships moved off silently.
On board the 'Amistadt' the crew brought out a set of state of the art sweeper gear, and thoroughly went over the whole ship three times. That done, all non-essential movement by the crew ceased, as the ship radically altered course.
Projected attrition of infiltrators without gain, 33% +/-2. Projected attrition with adequate exchange of host materials for continued observation 46%+-5. Projected long term assets for dormant expansionary protocols, 21% +-3. Continue breeding programs for desired traits amongst target groups.
Academia Nut wrote:"Turning his attention to the ship from the Grand Republic, Captain Jurloc says, "No, your timing was impeccable Ambassador. If you would consent to the same scans as the Golden Sky Combine, we can then be on our way to Crulmathi. It is about a day and a half from this system."
"Captain Jurloc, we will gladly allow any scan you wish to perform."
Captain Theodore Moz looked out from his squat broad chair on the bridge of the “Desota”. The elder Quatonia had seen his fair share of Starship bridges during his days, and commanded quite a few of them. That he was currently captain of ‘only’ a Cruiser and not one of the five main UISC Battleships, was little more than a mater of the sixth Battleship not being finished yet.
Till that time, he had happily spent his time in charge of the only fleet regular outside UISC space. The 1st Exploratory Defense Force, a modest, but well trained force, had already finished the first joint exercises with the NGTO member worlds. Now as they sat in the great rift between Nephilim and UISC Space, something was coming in that would live Captain Moz’s droll day.
“Captain Moz, Sir! Incoming message, Priority One!”
“Indeed? What band is it being relayed on Mr Mort?
“Heavily encoded band, relayed from, from an unknown satellite near the Zenar system. Sir, is this right?” Moz smirked inside, he knew what that meant…
“Relay the message to my quarters Mort, I shall take this in private.”
“Aye Aye sir”
“Hopping the short distance to his Quarters, he climbed the steps to the table to switch on his monitor… “One of these days I’ll have a Space designed for Quatonian sizes!” he huffed to himself as he clicked in a rather complicated security code.
“Greetings my Old friend, I must thank ye for livening up my day, may I ask what this is all about?” He spoke as the fuzzy image on the screen flickered.
“Only what I intercepted from a Kiroter'nah message that will ‘eventually’ be sent along to the other UISC forces.”
“Keeping a lid on things as usual my old friend?” Moz said as he smiled.
“Indeed so, I wish to uncover exactly who and what these as quickly as possible, I can ‘delay’ the message for only so long ‘comm static’ is a valid excuse for only a short time before it is tracked down.”
“Of course, of course, I understand… You have my word, You shall know first when we encounter them.”
“As always ‘old friend’ I appreciate your candor in these matters… I have encrypted a location that should get you to the unknown ships before other NGTO ships.” Moz paused.
“Should?” The screen smirked.
“Even I am not totally infallibly” it smirjed as Moz nodded”
“Indeed”
A moment later Moz emerged from his cabin with all eyes on him. His look stern, calm, he llived for this…
“Computer, open shipwide comms.
Now hear this! As of 0450 UISC time, a series of unknown ships have been detected approaching Neph Space. We do not know who they are, or where they come from, only that they have not contacted the Neph ahead of time and are NOT NGTO ships.
“As such, we have been ordered by our superiors to investigate at highest possible speed!”
“Mr Zonker! Lay in a course for the following coordinates!”
“Aye Aye”
“Mr Mort! I want STRICT radio silence to be maintained, relay this order to the other ships in the force.” Mort blinked a moment.
“All ships sir? The whole taskforce?” Moz needed as he pulled out his relatively large wooden pipe and lit it…
“Indeed, We go, and we go in force…”
“Aye AYE!”
Soon, the ship was abuzz with intership comms, orders we’re passed down, drives began to come to life, engines roared… Moz, calmly puffed his ancient pipe and smiled.
“In another few months, I shall be doing this from the bridge of the Studibaker”
(OOG) Currently underway toward the unknown ships:
Cruisers x 1
Destroyers x 4
Corvettes x 8
Praying is another way of doing nothing helpful
"Congratulations, you get a cookie. You almost got a fundamental English word correct." Pick
"Outlaw star has spaceships that punch eachother" Joviwan Read "Tales From The Crossroads"! Read "One Wrong Turn"!
"Captain Jurloc, we will gladly allow any scan you wish to perform."
Nodding, Jurloc has the sensor ships perform a quick deep scan, and finding nothing amiss, he replies, "Thank you for your patience, and we extend the same warning as we did to the Golden Sky Combine; do not take off or bring aboard any flora or fauna from your ships. The results could be... messy. Trust me when I say messy."
Opening a clear channel to both parties, Captain Jurloc says, "And now honourable delegates, we will transmit to you the coordinates of Crulmathi. As we use different forms of FTL transmission we will be out of contact with you, but rest assured that we are not blind in transit so if anything happens we will know about it immediately. We should arrive in orbit above the Blue Jewel of the Federation in approximately 39 standard hours. Any questions before we depart? If not then we will see you on the other side."
I love learning. Teach me. I will listen. You know, if Christian dogma included a ten-foot tall Jesus walking around in battle armor and smashing retarded cultists with a gaint mace, I might just convert - Noble Ire on Jesus smashing Scientologists
Sol System
Earth
Sant Thomas
Temporary Straltoc Embassy
The embassy house was a relatively small summer villa belonging to a wealthy but mostly unnoticeable Polish businessman who had been convinced to rent the place out, with the option to buy, for a rather large sum of money. It had more or less been purchased for the purpose of entertaining guests without having to bring them aboard the Ariklu, and act that some might find suspicious. Plus Felsith was a canny enough diplomat to know that Straltoc aesthetics probably did not jive with human and near human aesthetics that well, especially onboard warships.
The staff, who had come with the villa, were rushing about in a frenzy of last minute preparations for the reception of the first guests the temporary embassy would recieve. For his part, Ambassador Felsith was trying to keep them as calm possible and reassure them that he would not in fact eat them if they failed. Somehow telling them that he did not have a digestive tract did not seem to help.
With his apprentices decked out in full formal dress, including the ceremonial armour and partisans, the entire diplomatic party waited calmly and patiently for the diplomatic party from the Logos Centrality to arrive. He suspected that he and Nathan Hale would have much fruitful business to discuss upon arrival.
I love learning. Teach me. I will listen. You know, if Christian dogma included a ten-foot tall Jesus walking around in battle armor and smashing retarded cultists with a gaint mace, I might just convert - Noble Ire on Jesus smashing Scientologists
Preeminence Leukophil-class Corvette PCV-10012 “Cobblestone”
Just Outside Nephilim Space
Deep within the diamond-like hull of her scout ship, Cote Avere waited patiently as her small bridge crew worked in small wall alcoves arrayed around the circular chamber. Preeminence warships wasted little space, and the commanding officer could almost touch each and every one of her subordinates from where she stood at the central command and control pedestal. The Brimafel didn’t mind; trained to guide warships through the void since near-infancy, the cramped space was almost cozy. Besides, the constant presence of a commander at their shoulder kept her officers on focused and alert.
“How much longer before the ship is able to re-enter the Void?” the Cote asked, directing the question to the ship’s Operation’s coordinator.
“The primary drive coils have cooled to six percent above optimum status, Elevated,” the other Brimafel responded. “They will be fully prepared in five counts.”
“Notify me when the time comes.” Avere turned and traversed the bridge in a few short strides, quickly locating her Communications coordinator. The chamber was almost pitch-black, as per standard Armada operating procedure, but the Brimafel and Yinyaga who most commonly crewed the vessels had highly acute night-vision, enabling the officer to move quite easily.
“Have all the cartographical probes returned?”
“All save one, Elevated,” the Brimafel reported, not looking away from her duty screen. “Probe two just reentered real-time comm range, and has just beamed its survey abstract. We should have it aboard in twelve counts.”
Avere frowned. “Helm, move us on an intercept course for probe two, running velocity. We’ve wasted too much time cycle down here already.”
As another nearby officer moved to enact her directive, the Comm coordinator called for the Cote’s attention once more. “Elevated, it seems that probe two has intercepted the static residue of an FTL signal that passed through this area of space less than half a cycle ago.”
Avere’s four milky pupils locked on to the subordinate’s display. “Source?”
“A Kiroter'nah system on the edge of their space, Elevated. The message’s static mirror is degraded, but our analysis engine believes that it must have been urgent, and only partially encrypted. It hasn’t yet been able to identify a likely target.”
Avere pensively tapped the back of the Comm coordinator’s seat. On its face, the errant signal was of no consequence to her vessel and its mission. She had been assigned to chart a set of unusual spatial anomalies on the edge of Nephilim territory for the Armada’s Scientific Corps, with specific instructions to avoid violating their sovereign space unannounced. Diplomatic engagements with the NGTO powers were still on-going, and evidently Archon Grante didn’t want to risk triggering any unnecessary incidents with their potential allies. That sort of political courting was the root of the Cote’s sudden quandary; Avere was something of negotiator herself, and she knew how even a superficial offering of assistance in times of adversity could pay off in the long run. If something had agitated one of the NGTO’s members enough to send hastily-protected priority messages into deep space, it might be worth plying the nearest comm hub for further information and offering some token assistance.
After a moment’s further thought, Avere decided against it. The message could have been anything; certainly, it was not impetus enough to deviate from her orders and venture into NGTO allied territory uninvited. Still, she noted internally, it wouldn’t be unreasonable to double the number of deep-range drone sweeps at their next charting point.
There are few sights more majestic and alien to Humanity than a Wanderer vessel. One of them is such a vessel docking. The Dancer twisted on her axis with unearthly grace, and glided towards the hangar bay. The destroyer-sized 'hull' shrank down to a tiny shuttle-sized form, which proceeded to glide into the hangar without any fuss. Once secure, the shuttle literally evaporated, the fields of telekinetic force that gave it substance melting away, revealing just the plainly-dressed woman who had brought it here. As she waited, her mind rippled outwards almost reflexively, nothing as instrusive as a true mental probe, but almost as if searching for any minds that held a similar awareness.
Manic Progressive: A liberal who violently swings from anger at politicos to despondency over them.
Out Of Context theatre: Ron Paul has repeatedly said he's not a racist. - Destructinator XIII on why Ron Paul isn't racist.
Sol System
Earth
Sant Thomas
Temporary Straltoc Embassy
Hale stepped out of his armoured ground car, attended to by two cybernetic security personnel. Their augmentations were subtle, designed to easily blend in and be hidden unlike some of the work favored by they Void Legions or the Martian Rangers. The Centrality did not have a large population, but its ground forces had a fearsome reputation. The diplomatic security forces did not court the same reputation, but they did hone their skills to the same edge and made use of the same technological and arcane equipment.
Hale was dressed in the formal robes of his station as tailored jumpsuit worn under it. The computer expert system and environmental controls would allow him to survive in even the harshest places on Mars and interface easily with the global net. In terms of lines and design it was far closer to Terran formal clothing than work garb, but it was a hold over from a time when much of the Centrality's identity was defined by a rejection of "Terran Insanity" during the Dark Years.
Of course it was almost invisible under his black silk robes. "Ambassador Felsith," he said. "It is a pleasure to see you again."
Last edited by Imperial Overlord on 2007-06-26 05:46pm, edited 1 time in total.
The Excellent Prismatic Spray. For when you absolutely, positively must kill a motherfucker. Accept no substitutions. Contact a magician of the later Aeons for details. Some conditions may apply.
Academia Nut wrote:Opening a clear channel to both parties, Captain Jurloc says, "And now honourable delegates, we will transmit to you the coordinates of Crulmathi. As we use different forms of FTL transmission we will be out of contact with you, but rest assured that we are not blind in transit so if anything happens we will know about it immediately. We should arrive in orbit above the Blue Jewel of the Federation in approximately 39 standard hours. Any questions before we depart? If not then we will see you on the other side."
"None, Captain. We thank you for your hospitality, and will see you at Crulmathi."
With that, Archon Brea closed the connection, and had her astrogator lay in a proper course to the system, taking into account the high-gravitational areas that would affect the course of the ship. Once she saw the large and lumbering Sky Bear ship begin to warm up her superluminal drives, she had her astrogator do the same - soon, her ship and and her lone escort exploded into a flash of blue light, shrinking into a pinprick of light, and disappeared completely.
The guns of the Polish near-Earth squadron tracked the ballistic shuttle with baleful intent. A heavy, fat-bellied transport rose from the atmosphere below, hull marked with the blue, red, and white of the Polish Republic. It closed slowly and deliberatly with the target vessel, the maverick shuttle full of seemingly mad psykers. A recovery vehicle was dispatched to pull in the tattered, frozen corpse which had just moments before been lasted into space on impossible energies.
-::RENEGADE VESSEL, PREPARE FOR BOARDING. YOU ARE UNDER ARREST BY THE AUTHORITY OF THE POLISH REPUBLIC FOR FLAGRANT DISREGARD OF TRAFFIC CONTROL LAWS, WILLFUL DESTRUCTION OF GOVERNMENT PROPERTY, AND MURDER.::-
((OOC Note: The poor sap floating outside isn't dead, he's just pissed-off at not being let back inside.))
"I wouldn't do that, in your place. I've got a good number or psykers in here, all rather on edge after the quite obnoxious welcome we received downstairs, and I'm rather miffed about it as well, for that...excuse me, one moment."
A surge of psionic force ripples outwards from the transport, before the transmission resumes again, "Case in point, I just had to stop someone from taking a pot-shot at that transport of yours. Now, I was kind enough to toss out the guilty party, but I will not be responsible for any of your damn fool selves who get killed trying something rash!"
Chronological Incontinence: Time warps around the poster. The thread topic winks out of existence and reappears in 1d10 posts.
Out of Context Theatre, this week starring Darth Nostril.
-'If you really want to fuck with these idiots tell them that there is a vaccine for chemtrails.'
"The Polish Republic has strong reason to believe that those arrested at the Coalition of Nations conference hall were in fact representitives of your people who were merely operating under a massive misconception as to the proper protocols for diplomatic and civil contact. Therefor, the Republic requests that you send a vessel to pick up your citizens. However, we can offer no apologies whatsoever for our actions, which were measured and prudent. We will send a representitive of the Polish Republic as ambassador should you so desire."
We will endeavour to adapt to the crude methods used for identification by the Polish Republic in future. The personnel on-planet can see to their own return to our space. Have your diplomat meet with them and he will be transported to our main inhabitance. We advise against psionically-shielded individuals. There has been a history of damage to the minds of such individuals when in contact with the full Gestalt.
Manic Progressive: A liberal who violently swings from anger at politicos to despondency over them.
Out Of Context theatre: Ron Paul has repeatedly said he's not a racist. - Destructinator XIII on why Ron Paul isn't racist.
He and his entire diplomatic staff bowing at the waist, Ambassador Felsith says, "And a pleasure to see you again too. Come, we have much to talk about, but this is a dinner, no?" His faces twisting into expressions of mild distaste for a moment he then adds on, "Also, I apologize in advance if the food is substandard. We only have military rations with us, and our cuisine is significantly different from Terran norms, so our only option was to hire locally. And while the credentials for the staff hired all check out and my apprentices assure me that the food is more than palatable, I can not help but shake the feeling that our head chef enjoys using recipes from centuries ago as a gimmick. I asked him to be a bit more conservative tonight, but he seems the least likely to actually listen to me of all my staff. From what I understand, tonight will start with cocktails and some form of appetizer called 'nachos', followed by a light salad to clear the palate. The main course will consist of your choice of steak or cajun style chicken, each with a different variety of side dishes. Then... this is what I am most worried about, the dessert consists of something our chef keeps referring to as a 'Twinkie Parfait'. I'm afraid that since I don't eat I have to rely upon my apprentices, but they are unfortunately easily amused by what is to us exotic fare. I do hope the meal is to your liking."
Having done this explaination while slowly leading the Logos Centrality group to the dining room, Felsith places his bulk at one end of the modest sized long table and gestures for Hale to take the other end.
Settling in, Felsith then asks, "Well, we might as well begin with the topic that introduced us. Have you learned anything more about those psychics that arrived unannounced at the summit? The Polish have been understandably tight-lipped about the subject, and my own limited capacities have told me little else than one group seems to have calmed down, although it seems that there have been some rather more obnoxious hive minds in the area recently so that has made things more difficult."
I love learning. Teach me. I will listen. You know, if Christian dogma included a ten-foot tall Jesus walking around in battle armor and smashing retarded cultists with a gaint mace, I might just convert - Noble Ire on Jesus smashing Scientologists
A small convoy of transports, unescorted in space this close to Sol, trundles along at a relatively low hyper-mutiplier, heading inwards towards the prosperous markets in near-Sol space. Abruptly, the entire convoy is yanked out of hyperspace just as quickly as interdiction fields spring into being around a half-dozen warships, twisting space into a localized Gordian knot. Sublight engines light off on the intercepting warships, surging forewards towards the clumsily-maneuvering freighters.
Chronological Incontinence: Time warps around the poster. The thread topic winks out of existence and reappears in 1d10 posts.
Out of Context Theatre, this week starring Darth Nostril.
-'If you really want to fuck with these idiots tell them that there is a vaccine for chemtrails.'
In unclaimed space a few sectors between the Nephilim and the Heralds of Xylyx a few small outpost stations hung in a small cluster near a low power navigation beacon. They promised to be easy prey indeed for the five Blackblades which rocketed towards them from the depths of space. The two heavy gun turrets on the top and bottom of each ship swung towards the first outpost and slugged baleful red packets of energy at the defenseless target. The turrets then tracked towards the next as the five ships prepared to swing wide of burning station, allowing broadsides from their light cannons to finish it off.
Post 666: Posted: Sun Oct 30, 2005 12:51 am
Post 777: Posted: Mon Jan 02, 2006 6:49 pm
Post 999: Posted: Wed Jun 13, 2007 11:19 am
"Thank you for your hospitality ambassador. The food choices are somewhat in eccentric in combination, but quite acceptable."
Hale settled in his chair. "The beings in question call themselves 'Wanderers'. They appear to live in some kind of psychic gestalt and to be descended from early space travelers. What you picked up from them wasn't a probe, but the activity of their gestalt. Being a race that communicates psionically and doesn't engage in diplomatic contact with other stellar nations, they simply blundered through ignoring diplomatic protocols. Apparently it didn't occur to them that nonpsionics might do something differently."
The Excellent Prismatic Spray. For when you absolutely, positively must kill a motherfucker. Accept no substitutions. Contact a magician of the later Aeons for details. Some conditions may apply.
SirNitram wrote:There are few sights more majestic and alien to Humanity than a Wanderer vessel. One of them is such a vessel docking. The Dancer twisted on her axis with unearthly grace, and glided towards the hangar bay. The destroyer-sized 'hull' shrank down to a tiny shuttle-sized form, which proceeded to glide into the hangar without any fuss. Once secure, the shuttle literally evaporated, the fields of telekinetic force that gave it substance melting away, revealing just the plainly-dressed woman who had brought it here. As she waited, her mind rippled outwards almost reflexively, nothing as instrusive as a true mental probe, but almost as if searching for any minds that held a similar awareness.
The hanger of the frigate appeared to be standard warship fare. Treadplate, metal, various apparatus necessary for the servicing of small shuttlecraft.
The Wanderer woman's psionic ping returned quickly. A line of Nova's soldiers had formed next to the hatchway into the rest of the ship, their rifles pointing downward, ready but not threatening. They were an odd looking bunch, they all wore the same khaki and red uniforms, albeit with variations to suit their physiology. Two of the line was human, one a reptilian, one a dwarf, another a strange creature with wings and another some form of arachnid. It was difficult for a multi-species group to maintain a tidy formation but they managed the best they could.
A woman approached wearing a black uniform with red trim approached. The Wanderer immediately recognised her abilities.
The soldiers watched the two of them stood there, staring at each other. The gentle hum of the ship's engines permeate the surroundings as everyone in the hanger continued standing in an awkward silence.
~The commander was unsure of your preferred method of communication. I have been asked to act as an interpreter if necessary. I am Lieutenant Svetlana Markov, welcome aboard the Tristan. How do the Wanderers wish to proceed?~
Taking this information in, Felsith nods and says, "That explains much. Whenever a variety of psychic races assemble there is 'cross-talk chatter', you might call it. The Straltoc are only empaths, but for a fully mature member, our word is Arlisdarl, my abilities are such that I can send and recieve in a limited telepathic fashion. We had already made arranagements with other psychics for diplomatic reasons and to minimalize stress for others. They were quite strong, and I'm sure they must have caused problems for others. Once they get used to non-gestalt interactions perhaps we should try talking to them. See if they respond more politely to another nation of lost early travellers."
Pausing for a moment for Nathan's sake as he could theoretically talk nonstop until the stars went dark, Felsith then says, "Also, I must explain a bit more thoroughly why we came to you first with our concerns. Since learning about your people and your... more esoteric abilities, my people have been abuzz with rumour and speculation. You see, we only have the vaguest understanding of what actually happened to us in transit. The facts as we know them are sparse, and are as follows. Around 2100, give or take a decade, a group of refugees left Earth aboard a spacecraft that made use of an experimental FTL drive. We suspect that our ancestors were being used as guinea pigs to test the effect this drive would have on the human body." Pausing to make note of his appearance, Felsith says, "As you can see, the effects were rather dramatic. The few memory fragments passed on down from the original settlers tell of an endless age wandering through a void not meant for life as we know it, of the slow corruption of mind and matter in that insane place. These memories are as the worst nightmares, especially since our ancestors had to live through them once. However, at some point, someone or someones aboard the ship managed to wrestle us back into normal space and stabilize the bodies of the survivors with the same sort of marks you see on my apprentices. We landed on our homeworld of Crulmathi shortly after and then discovered that the long term effects of the trip were rather more interesting than we had first anticipated."
Pausing again for effect, Felsith then finishes, "Currently one of the leading theories is that someone who knew magic, true magic of the sort your people use, was aboard the ship and managed to work out a way to counter the adverse effects of that realm. Thus part of our diplomatic mission has always been to talk to you."
I love learning. Teach me. I will listen. You know, if Christian dogma included a ten-foot tall Jesus walking around in battle armor and smashing retarded cultists with a gaint mace, I might just convert - Noble Ire on Jesus smashing Scientologists
"That's both fascinating and appalling ambassador," said Hale. "At the moment we have only begun to map the realms of the Beyond. Many of them are completely inhospitable to organic life."
He paused for a moment before continuing. "I must warn you that large scale alterations of organic matter using the Major Arcana is almost always fatal. We have only mapped part of the Arcana, so it may be possible to do so in the future, but I'm afraid that in the short term we may not be able to render much assistance."
The Excellent Prismatic Spray. For when you absolutely, positively must kill a motherfucker. Accept no substitutions. Contact a magician of the later Aeons for details. Some conditions may apply.
=================== Border of Nephilim Space
===================
The ships of the “First Exploratory Defence Force” Tore through Hyperspace as Captain Moz watched pensively from his spot in the middle of the bridge. The plates under his large compact feet rumbled as the ships coolers worked to overcome the heat from the engines.
He was pushing the ships to their limit, and he expected nothing but the best from his crews. He had waited for this moment for years, and at any moment, battlestations would need to be called.
“SIR! 20 seconds from Targets! We are almost within sensors lock of unknown ships!” Mort shouted form the comms as Captain Moz grinned.
“Prepare weapons and energize shields. I want a lock on each ship as soon as---
“SIR! They are Jumping!” Moz choked mid sentence.
“WHAT? They can’t jump!”
“They are! Th-They are gone!” Half a second later, before the rather obscene words from Captain Moz drifted across the bridge, His Cruiser, as well as all other ships in the force leapt back into Realspace.
They had arrived exactly where they had needed to be, the coordinates we’re flawless. They had arrived far in advance of any other forces from the NGTO. Even though, they we’re half a second too late.
“Scanners I want scanners! ID those ships!” Moz shouted as a Quivering Private Merf looked at his screen.
“N-None sir, h-however they jumped to Lightspeed, we, couldn’t get any lock on their singles, I, can’t get any reading from what the ships we’re.. Merf finished timidly as Moz huffed.
Great clouds of smoke puffed from his pipe as he stood looking over the bridge. He gathered himself for a moment, “Fun shall have to wait for now” He sighed to himself .
“Understood, you did your best Pvt Merf, though I shall want a report of what readings you did get before the targets vanished. There should be something in there.
“Aye Aye Sir”
“Comms, Open Fleet wide communications.”
“Aye Sir”
“Now hear this. All Targets have escaped, it would seem we have arrived a tad late to meet our unknown ‘guests’. Never the less this search is not over. I want all corvettes to perform a Sweep within this sector and report any findings. Destroyers will Separate to return to the nearest Nephilim sensor outposts and compare records. They may have picked up something we have missed. All ships are to meet back at his location in 24hours. Dismissed!”
Praying is another way of doing nothing helpful
"Congratulations, you get a cookie. You almost got a fundamental English word correct." Pick
"Outlaw star has spaceships that punch eachother" Joviwan Read "Tales From The Crossroads"! Read "One Wrong Turn"!
