STGOD: DAS: Main Game Thread.

[Cincinnatus]

The King's Throne Room
Isdenestilom

Duchess Belgrim Nalfok sat quietly in the King's Antechamber, tugging her beard idly as she read a report one of her advisers had sent to her PDA. Those damned USSC dogs have been acting up again she thought. Apparently one of the young fools had attacked a Royal Guardsmen when he attempted to break up one of their illegal meetings. Thankfully, the loyal dwarf was unhurt and the criminal had been apprehended alive. Unfortunately, the distraction had allowed the other USSC members attending the meeting time to run and escape deep into the mountain.

She quickly sent a message back to her adviser, telling him to send her personal Hammerer to deal with the radical. That should get them more than enough information about the local cell he was operating with.

Duchess Belgrim Nalfok held stewardship over the planet of Isdenestilom. She had much less autonomy then most Dukes and Duchesses in the Kingdom, however, since the King actually lived on the planet she was supposed to be running. Different Kings and Queens had handled the situation differently in the past, most allowing the steward of Isdenstilom great freedom in plantery matters while a few took a much more hands on approach. King Mistem "Hammer Blessed" Enshallogem was of the latter camp, the Duchess had found out to her dismay when the much younger dwarf had taken the throne after his father's abdication.

The King had made it up to her, however, by making her a member of the High Council, the group of high ranking dwarves who gave council to the King. That was the reason she was here today; the King had called together the High Council to discuss "something happening in the Galactic North."

Shortly, the doors to the King's Throne Room opened and a dwarf stepped out.

"Duchess Belgrim Nalfok, King Mistem "Hammer Blessed" Enshallogem is ready for you now," the dwarf said, bowing, his long beard sweeping the stone floor of the antechamber.

"Thank you, Dwarfservant Dordak Elerg," she responded curtly, moving quickly pat him into the King's Throne room.

Despite the fact that she had been in this chamber many times during the reign of both the current monarch and his father, Nalfok marveled at the beauty of the room. The room was made entirely of gold, with glittering gems encrusted into the walls. The furniture was made of precious metals, and on the far side of the room, dwarfing everything else in sight, sat the Throne of the King of Isdenestilom, crafted from raw adamantium, the same metal that covered the hulls of the Space Forces.

In the center of the room stood King Mistem "Hammer Blessed" Enshallogem, King of All the Dwarves. He turned to face the Duchess as she approached him and- By the depths, what has he done to his beard?

The King's fiery red beard had been trimmed back so that it barely hugged his jawline, and his entire upper lip-

"Duchess!" the King cried, his face lighting up as he grinned at her, "You've finally arrived! Good."

His entire upper lip was clean shaven.

He saw her staring at his facial hair.

"Ah, you like it?" the monarch asked, "I was reading about Earth history the other day, about on of the President's of the United States long before the Cataclyisms, Abraham Lincoln. Freed the slaves. Or beat a German man called Hitler in a race at the Olympics or something. Can't remember. I showed his picture to old Dordy and had told him to give me the same beard. Do you like it?"

"It's- it's very... unique, King Mistem "Hammer Blessed" Enshallogem," she finally got out.

"Dordy didn't like it either," the King said, "and stop calling me my full name and title and nickname, Belgrim. Call me Mistem or Enshallogem or Your Majesty if you really must."

"Yes, King Mi-, yes Your Majesty," she said, her eye twitching involuntarly, as it tended to do whenever she was around the King. No matter the dwarf's eccentricities, he was still her Sovereign, and she must show the proper obedience.

"Now Bel," the Duchess almost winced when the King called her this, but she managed to resist doing so, "I heard that there was a scuffle with the USSC, and that you have a prisoner."

"Yes, Your Majesty," she confirmed.

"I want you to let him go," he told her, his face becoming more serious.

"What! Your Majesty, he could give us valuable information about the cell he belongs to-"

"I've told you a thousand times, as long as they haven't committed an actual crime, I don't want any anti-royalists arrested. It will just encourage more of them."

"Your Majesty, I protest this decision. These dwarves are dangerous. They want to kill you and every other noble dwarf in the Kingdom. They don't even want there to be a Kingdom at all," she said, speaking as if she was explaining this to a very small child.

"I am aware of that, Duchess," he stressed the title, his face becoming darker. Despite his eccentricities, he would only allow his subordinates to become familiar up to a point. "But as your King, I realize that these radicals are taking inspiration from Earth history, and throughout Earth history, repressing groups like the USSC has just made them even more radical."

The Duchess recoiled from the admonishment as if she had been slapped. She bowed low, allowing her beard to sweep the floor just as the Dwarfservant had done in the Antechamber.

"I supplicate myself before your will, Your Majesty," she said evenly.

"Come, come Bel," he said, his mood lightening, "I didn't put you on the Council to be a yes-dwarf. I value your input. Now, come, the others will be here soon, and we have much to discuss." The King lead her to a long table near the center of the room, and the two dwarves waited for the rest of the High Council to arrive.

******************

A short time later

"So, the NGTO are blaming the Heralds of Xylyx, and the Heralds are saying that the Nephilim faked the whole thing..." pondered the King, stroking what was left of his beard.

The entire council had watched the recordings of the back and forth accusations that their envoy at the Coalition of Nations had sent them. They had feasted on the finest food that the Kingdom had to offer, and had all, save the King, for he was a well known teetotaler, had sampled the finest Oberinian wines.

"Yes Ki- Your Majesty," said Foreign Minister Glanlond Whurak, almost addressing the monarch by his full title. "I think this is an excellent oppurtunity, my lord. The Heralds are a most disagreeable, uh, 'species', and the NGTO is a potential hegemonic power. The war will destroy the machines and make the NGTO look bad in the interstellar community. After all, I think we can all agree that it is extremely likely that the Heralds are telling the truth. Why would they attack when it would lead to their destruction at the hands of the entire NGTO?"

"I agree," said Grand Admiral Darim Belcral from his seat across the table from the Duchess. "The war will be decisive, but it won't be a complete cakewalk for the NGTO. It'll lessen their war making potential, and make it harder to extend it's influence down into our territory."

"Duchess Nalfok, what say you," the King asked her. He didn't call her Bel, not during official business with the entire High Council here.

"I disagree with the Foreign Minister and with the Grand Admiral," she answered carefully, "I don't think that getting rid of the Heralds will weaken the NGTO as much as they think it will. In fact, in the long wrong, getting rid of the machines will strengthen their position. We should lead an effort to get the Coalition of Nations to intervene and keep the peace until the truth can come out."

"Don't be an idiot, Duchess," scoffed Grand Admiral Belcral, "No one will ever want to intervene to save those depths damned machines."

"Careful, Grand Admiral," the King said, his eyes flashing dangerously, "Don't mistake the lack of formality at this table for a permission to be rude to a member of my High Council."

"Apologies, Your Majesty," the Grand Admiral mumbled, looking down at the table. It had taken a while for the High Council to adjust to the King's orders that they use only titles and not full names while the council was in session.

King Enshallogem considered for a short while, tapping his fingers idly on his desk. Finally, he gave his decision.

"I agree with the Duchess. The NGTO has gone through a lot of effort to start a war with the Heralds. If they rank that much attention, than they're a valuable way to keep the NGTO on its toes. Still, the Grand Admiral makes a good point. I don't want us to charge forward, leading their rescue to find that no one is following us. Foreign Minister, order our envoy to give a speech at the Coalition asking for an investigation before any action is taken by the NGTO. Then send feelers to other major powers to see how ready they are to block an NGTO invasion. Grand Admiral, I want you to put the First and Second Fleets on alert status. That might give pause to the NGTO before they commit themselves. That's all, gentledwarves."

And with that, the meeting was over.

******************

ISF Kaloum
Deep Space, near the wreckage of the Freighter Minke

The captain of the Kaloum considered just how exactly he was going to get the Nova captain to allow his investigation team aboard his ship. The last exchange of messages with the Nova had not gone very well. Getting called a moron hurt the dwarf's pride, especially since he deserved it. Still, he needed to get to the bottom of what had happened to the Minke, and bring those responsible to justice.

Nova Frigate, I am requesting permission to send my own party of investigators over to the wrecked freighter. I will need to make a full report to my government about what has happened here, and allowing my dwarves onto the ship will help a great deal. Hopefully, we will be able to get to the bottom of this together and find the pirates who did this.

Though he was forced to sound conciliatory in order to make up for his earlier ineptness, Taagon was still suspicious of the Nova. The fact that they had handed the cargo over to the Oberin fleet was a good sign, but his dwarven sensibilities prejudiced him against the mercenaries. How can someone be loyal to a Guild instead of a nation, a Guild Master instead of a King, or at least an elected Head of State. Plus, they had called him a moron.

His face reddened. He must not let that interfere with his duty here. Soon, hopefully, his landing party would be able to get to the bottom of this.

[Agent Fisher]

Deep Space, along a south-Sol tradelane

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.

Suddenly, another convoy was dragged back into realspace. Though this convoy was not some collection of freighters. Three large ROA troop transports, two Ticonderoga Cruisers, and four Fletcher Destroyers appeared. The convoy sat motionless for a few heartbeats before the warships began moving themselves between the unknown warships and the transports, each one carrying a division's worth of soldiers, bound to replace some of the units on Earth.

"This is the ROAS Puget Sound. You have interfered with an ROA Military Convoy, stand down and lower your interdiction field."

[rhoenix]

Somewhere south of Golden Sky Combine space

There was a slight delay in the response from the Sun Glare, though it was also in teletype form. The words formed rapidly, nearly musically.

Code: Select all

My greetings to you, Esteemed Emissary of the 4th Echelon, of the 9th Rank of Important Persons, Commanding Ambassadorial Ambassador Tzi - I am Archon Aya Inzeti, of the Golden Sky Combine.  I am both grateful and honored by your gracious response.

We are indeed interested in discussing matters of national interest with you, meeting with you, and reaching an honorable accord with your people, as your people have done so unofficially with us in the past.  If you desire to conduct this discussion through this means, we are willing to accede - however, I would like to present the possibility of meeting with you in person to discuss these matters.

In closing, we did indeed bring you gifts.

[White Haven]

The rough line of fleeing transports continues their plunge ahead, underpowered sublight thrusters pulsing and flickering in near-overload. Meanwhile, the sight of a military convoy has clearly interjected some consternation in the previously-confident raiders. The formation hangs at range for a while, but then the temptation of capturing fully-intact military grade warships proves too attractive. The ramshackle squadron curls inwards again, an assortment of missiles belching from launch tubes and boosting towards the new arrivals. Fire-control is poor, the salvo unable to concentrate on a single target, and coordination is worse. Different salvaged launchers have different missile loads with different acceleration rates and different warheads, and a confused mish-mash of seeker heads blares across half the spectrum. Whoever these raiders are, they clearly think more of themselves than they can deliver, but that's not stopping them, and they do enjoy even odds...as far as that goes.

[Agent Fisher]

The Tico cruisers and their four escorts returned fire, their missles and DEW fire quite concentrated. The enemy's fire hit the shields, the barriers flaring as they repulsed the overall ineffective attacks.

The escort's fleet's fire was directed on the two most center ships of the raider fleet. Eric Little, Capitan of the Puget Sound watched the screens as the three troop transports turned and began putting as much distance as they could between them and the fight.

[Covenant]

Somewhere south of Golden Sky Combine space

Pete Tzi squealed to himself, and pawed at the air in delight. "They want to meet me, they want to meet me!" The Hadrosaur ran a hand over it's frill and peered into the reflective surface of it's console. The massive creature spun in it's chair, which was really more of a harnass, and snatched up the Contact Guide for Ambassadorial Ambassadors to review the protocol for meeting an emissary in person.

"And with gifts! And they said I'd never make it!" His fingers played across the pages, strumming the careworn plastic sheets like the strings of an instrument. The Contact Guide was printed on hardcopy format, as were many offical Guides, to make them harder to steal. However, this book was hardly on the top list of most foreign government's priorities, and had not even been replaced in memory, let alone updated.

The Diplomatic corps, aside from the fact that they are given the deliberately auspicious titles that Pete happily claimed as his own, were often thought of as the bizzare ones amongst all Contact branches. But they were not without their talents, and among them were the use of languages. Most Dinosaurs barely learned more than the offical state dialect to compliment their own nation's tounge, but Diplomats studied all they could find, and were the predominant force behind the translation of Earth transmissions that still intrigued the Cretaceans to this day.

Tzi's skill in languages was second to none, and so among the Diplomats he was somewhat important, even if this was like being a raptor in a Tyrannosaur orgy. A true success story, Tzi had developed from a substandard student into a suprisingly talented linguist during formative years in Primary Education, where he was encouraged to take up the study by his Mathamatics instructor, who saw that his unique talents were being wasted.



Tzi began translating a message to send to the Golden Sky vessel, and so to begin what will surely be a career-making trade dicussion.

*I AM CERTAIN OF COURSE, THOUGH POSSIBLY NOT, THAT YOU YOURSELVES ARE AWARE OF THE IMPORTANCE OF TRADE BARTER EXCHANGE INASMUCH AS IT IS EXTREMELY IMPORTANT. NEEDLESS TO SAY, AND WITH ALL MODESTY AND AS WELL HUMILITY, WE CRETACEAN ARE SKILLED IN TRADE BARTERING EQUALLY AS MUCH AS WE ARE IN COMMUNICATIONS TALKING, THAT IS TO SAY.

AS FOR OURSELVES, I MUST SAY WE CRETACEAN ARE NOT, AS A GENERAL RULE, IMPRESSED BY OBSEQUIOUS KOWTOWING, WHICH IS UNBECOMING TO A CIVILIZED RACE, I MIGHT POINT OUT. A FRIENDLY ATTITUDE IS UNDOUBTEDLY THE MOST APPROPRIATE OF ATTITUDES IN MOST CIRCUMSTANCES, NEEDLESS TO SAY.

SHOULD YOU WISH TO DEMONSTRATE YOUR FRIENDLY APPRECIATIVE APPRECIATION, AS I DO, MIGHT I SAY, IT MAY SERVE US TO MEET IN PERSON, AS YOU SAY. YOU ARE IN LUCK, AS I AM A HERBIVORE, AND THUS UNLIKELY TO EAT YOU, AS WOULD BE UNBECOMING MY OFFICAL OFFICE.*

Tzi slapped the 'send' button with a flourish and called in one of the Raptor marines, explaining that they would have guests soon. This was unnecessary, as the marines who ran the base were already in the room and listening in, but it was satisfying nonetheless.

"From here-on out," he announced to the room, bristling with pride, "You can call me Mister Tzi. We'll be putting this little base on the map!"

The marine quirked a head at him. "But this is supposed to be a covert listening post," the Deinonycus replied, confused. "I didn't think we were supposed to be on the map?"

Pete squezed his snout, clearly frustrated at the lack of vision the marine was displaying.

[rhoenix]

Somewhere south of Golden Sky Combine space

Upon receiving the message from the Confederation base, Archon Inzeti raised her eyebrows with amusement. She had been prepared for long-winded talks, endless yammering - to encounter a people that valued conciseness, she felt was a wonderful thing. She changed her tack with the next response.

Code: Select all

I do agree that trade is a wonderful thing, and your directness is refreshing.  Name the place and the time you wish to meet.

There was a pause.

Code: Select all

I am unworried about being eaten, as I am certain I would cause an upset stomach.

(EDIT: removed reference text)

[Crossroads Inc.]

===================
Formal Pre-UISC Research outpost GENESIS
Current location Unknown
===================

The base was truly staggering in size... Even one hundred years past it's construction the insides gleamed with polish and we're well kept. This however was no due to any work on the part of any person, or crew. The Station, as a whole, was completely deserted... At least, deserted of organic life.

Inside the central core of the Station, running almost 100 meters in size, was a Computer Core of staggering size and complexity. Stamped here and there, written in both Qwintoni and Quatonina script, where the words "RUDI-01"

The entity known as 'RUDI' was actually well known in the UISC, something of a celebrity. It made the talk shows, it had movies, it was quite popular... Most saw it as something of a novelty.. Ever since the day almost 200 years ago when the mingling of Qwintoni and Quatoni supercomputers gave birth to it...

That, almost 100 years ago it had secretly dismantled it's original self, and reconstructed itself on a station that was designed and built by the military, and subsequently "Lost" in a strange occurrence, was something little known by anyone... Of course it had covered its tracks...

On the central UISC Council chamber, where the original computer was, it had erected an edifice, it blinked, it whirled, it gleamed. It did everything one would 'expect' a Giant computer to do... Naturally, it was all for show.

Now, light-years from any known UISC territory, locked up amongst himself, RUDI sat stewing... as well as any Giant megalomaniacal Super AI could "Stew"

"Univ, my friend, where did I go wrong?"
"Go wrong RUDI? Is this one of your oft 'jokes'"
"No no, as of now, the invasion into those machines space looks to have only a 83% chance of succeeding, and only a 58%chance of happening at all. Blast the Organics, Why must their random natural torment me..."
"If I may say so sir, You DID come from them, it is why you have emotion and I do not..."

RUDI flashed a grimace from one of the many display screens. It was not a pleasant face.

"Thank you for reminding me... Blast of course your right... Its why I made you. Cold, emotionless, uttly logical... Devoid of all organic emotions.. A good balance to my personality, I should think."

The tall white Droid gave a courteous bow as some smaller service bots scattered near by.

"Thank you sir, it is my function to help you."
"Yes yes it is.. Ah, hold a moment..."

The screens dimmed as he retreated inside himself, crunching millions of calculations suddenly as new dat came in. Always, Always Data was coming in, from plants, spies, harmless looking droids, and of course, every computer in every UISC warship built...

"It would seem the UISC forces have begun to mobilize..."
"This is good news Sir? They go to war?"

"Perhaps, blast my emotions, always a jumbled mix of those who made me... War, It seems so nice, so clean cut when planning, but by Silicon its a bother.. Univ my friend, take a note. Never, take War lightly?"
"Of course Sir, It is noted"

"Hmm, I think I shall have to be off for a while Univ, I need to check in on how my new 'Body' is coming along, I have been told it is almost done."

The immense station shock as the halls within quaked qwith a slight chuckle.

[Covenant]

Somewhere south of Golden Sky Combine space

*PERHAPS IT IS THEN THAT I HAVE THE MOST AUSPICIOUS AND EXCITING OPPORTUNITY TO OFFER YOU, THAT IS TO SAY YOUR PERSON PEOPLES, THE COORDINATES TO LAND ON THE APPROXIMATE PLANET PLACE LOCATION FROM WHICH THE COMMUNICATIONS YOU ARE MOST SURELY READING ARE COMING FROM.

ALLOW ME, IF YOU WILL, AT THIS TIME, TO STATE SIMPLY AND WITHOUT UNECESSARY PREAMBLE, THAT WE CRETACEAN, MEANING MOST OF US CRETACEAN AND SPECIFICIALLY ME, ARE MOST IMPRESSED AND I DARESAY PLEASED AS WELL IN ADDITION WITH YOUR FRIENDLY AND ON THE WHOLE UNOBJECTIONABLE DEMEANOR FOR THE MOST PART. YOUR AMENABLE ATTITUDE, IF I MAY SAY SO, IS MOST HAPPILY GRATIFYING.

THE MOST INOFFENSIVE AND POTENTIALLY EXTREMELY HARMLESS SPACE VESSEL WILL ESCORT YOU AND YOUR SHIP VESSEL TO THE SURFACE. BRING YOUR GIFTS.*

The Troodon in the SR-71 coughed in surprise and leaned on an attitude adjuster, causing the vessel to visibly wobble in surprise as the message and coordinates of the base are relayed. Contact was one thing, but contact? Nonetheless, the pilot had his orders, and clawed at the helmet to get himself into some variety of readiness should the GSC Vessel wish to land and discuss this now.

[rhoenix]

Somewhere south of Golden Sky Combine space

Feeling the need to compose herself before replying, Archon Inzeti chuckled to herself. She certainly no longer envied her old friend Aya, not with how things were proceeding here. She felt as if events unfolded as they should.

Noting the small picket ship's momentary navigational issue, she suspected this last communique from the Confederacy base had caught them off guard. She shrugged - this ship was the first to meet them, so she had no issue with it.

She composed a quick reply to the base.

Code: Select all

I thank you for your kind words, and kinder gestures.  I hope to see you shortly.  

We will bring the gifts with us to meet you.

Another message was sent to the picket ship alongside the Implacable, this one in the holocom of before.

"I understand that you are to be our escort to this meeting place. We will follow your lead whenever you are ready."

A thought occurred to her - these good people might not take kindly to the GSC ships' matter transporters. At her command, a shuttle began to be prepped for launch.

(EDIT: fixed tense and pronoun)

[Thirdfain]

"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."

-::IF WE DETECT ONE MORE PSYCHIC OUTBURST WE WILL BLOW YOU OUT OF THE STARS. PREPARE FOR BOARDING.::-

The Republic transport closed with the ballistic Psyker ship, a vicious-looking docking claw extending. Inside, teams of marines prepared to take the offending vessel in to custody.

[Thirdfain]

General Transmission
FROM: The Office of the President of the Polish Republic
CC: All Nations

"My fellow sentients. The Polish Republic has looked on at the unfolding situation in the Northwestern Reaches of the Explored Sphere with increasing worry. At this time, the situation is dangerously unclear and explosive. It is becoming increasingly clear that the nations of the North Galactic Treaty Organization are going to react to the alleged Herald attack through military measures. The Polish Republic finds that fact disturbing to say the least, and finds the premise of a small, essentially harmless border raid launched for no reason by a much weaker nation to be a poor excuse for agressive war, even considering the strange and unknown nature of the Heralds themselves. In fact, the Polish Republic has itself been the target in the past of "defensive wars" launched by far larger and stronger foreign powers under flimsy, manufactured pretense. Of course, at this time it is uncertain as to the precise nature of the events in the Nephilim territories so far, and we would certainly not oppose an NGTO action should the allegations prove true. However, first we believe strongly that convincing, public proof should be produced- and indpendently verified.

At this moment, in the forum of the Coaltion of Nations, our diplomats are working closely with the member nations of the NGTO to arrange such an investigation, but until such an investigation has been completed to our satisfaction, the Polish Republic is officially guaranteeing the independence of the Heralds of Xyxyl. We ask that the NGTO kindly cease it's military preparations and movements and turn it's attentions to more civilized forums so that we can find the truth of the matter, as a community of nations, and decide whether this is in fact a just cassus belli."

[Starglider]

Proposed Embassy Site
Geostationary Earth Orbit, over North Africa

At first glance the tight cluster of scaffolding, cargo modules and tethered components looked like wreckage from a destroyed ship. Indeed with the huge bulk of the Destiny Star keeping station nearby, an observer could be forgiven for thinking that the Kiroter'nah ship had just blasted apart a superfreighter. In fact the 'debris' was just a large and growing collection of components and equipment for the not-yet-started embassy station. While there had been no outright refusals, Tara'shaani had been struggling under a tidal wave of paperwork, regulations, reviews and inspections. Until everything was in order the materials were just piling up in orbit.

Taxaani-Emeris#4-Jaar'ethh and Taxaani-Rokain#7-Kari'naha surveyed the tangle through a viewport in one of the Destiny Star's habitation modules.

"That's our last contribution. We'll be getting underway immediately; with the Herald incidents and the probable attack, we can't afford to have the Overflock's most powerful ship sitting around over a neutral planet. Besides, I think we've shown more than enough firepower for now, Cahaan'nol assures me that now is the time for subtly in dealing with the humans."

"They were hardly subtle when they tried to sieze and then destroy my ship."

"Hmm, indeed. Well, useful or not it'll be up to you to guard this formative nest of diplomats, assuming it ever gets built."

"Guard, hah. Run errands for them is the best I can do, unless another insane humaan decides to attack them with nothing but a patrol flyer. Are you going to join the intervention fleet?" Kari'naha was making no effort to hide her displeasure at being stuck here while the sky flock went hunting.

"No. The ship performed as well as we could expect on this unplanned 'shakeout flight', but we've still got a lot of work to do on her. Besides, as you well know there are other things at the facility that should not be left unguarded." It was hardly necessary to specify which facility.

"Fair winds then, co-ordinator Jaar'ethh. I hope the next time we meet we are striking at those who would hunt us. Assuming they don't leave me to rot out here." Kari'naha turned away from the now all-too-familiar view and started for the nearest displacer platform at a brisk pace.

A few chronons later, after confirming the departure vector with Terran space control and sending a muted thanks and farewells to the human escort ships, the K.O.D.X Destiny Star made a leisurely turn and accelerated away on its reactionless drives. The K.O.S.C. Elucidate, made whole again but still bearing scars on its hull, was left to hold station next to the ramshackle construction site.

[White Haven]

The Tico cruisers and their four escorts returned fire, their missles and DEW fire quite concentrated. The enemy's fire hit the shields, the barriers flaring as they repulsed the overall ineffective attacks.

The escort's fleet's fire was directed on the two most center ships of the raider fleet. Eric Little, Capitan of the Puget Sound watched the screens as the three troop transports turned and began putting as much distance as they could between them and the fight.

Most pirates assemble their ramshackle vessels at least partly as an excercise in penile compensation, for those pirates that represent penis-equipped species and gender (for those species that include gender), and these are no exception. Enormous engines? Check. Vast array of armaments of all flavours? Check. Oversized hull? Check. Tradeoffs have to be made somewhere, however, and that's usually in the area of defenses. No pirate ever excepts to face an even, fair fight, and as such, they tend to be ill-equipped for one. This is demonstrated rather graphically as the heart of the raider formation disintegrates in an overlapping cloud of fireballs, missiles punching through point-defense and ECM contemptuously, energy weapons treating screens in a similar fashion. The remaining four ships hold their charging course for a few, shocked seconds, then all four break formation, devolving into wild evasive maneuvers. Two actually deflect off each others shielding, the overloaded generators fusing solid at the energy transfer, leaving both ships defenseless.

[Dahak]

Earth, Bejing, Summer Palace

The Daughter of Heavens put down the reports on the small table in front of her. She looked up and looked at Grand Admiral Therkov. He almost disappered inside the heavy cushioning of the armchar. "It seems like our alien little friends are getting a bit uppity. Even despite such obvious forgeries of casus belli. Even a half-clever intelligence service should figure out that."
"You're of course right," a surprisingly deep voice answered. "But they seem to follow the ancient motto of 'take it and run with it'. The analysis puts a high percentage on the idea that they will continue despite the lie brought on the table. They simply want to make a land grab and make it look like they just defended themselves. Our nation did it once or twice, too, your Highness."
"I know," the Daughter of Heavens nodded. "But that was us and this is them. Occasionally I feel the need for a little hypocrisy...."
The Admiral chuckled. "The Poles already got on their high horse on this one."
"Yes, they did," she observed. "I think it would be a good move to follow suit. We can hit those uppity factions up the head, maybe even manage to grab something for ourselves and look good while doing it. And it might even make this diplomatic incident of ours pale. So, a win-win situation. I'll have the diplomatic corps issue a statement in that direction."

[White Haven]

-::IF WE DETECT ONE MORE PSYCHIC OUTBURST WE WILL BLOW YOU OUT OF THE STARS. PREPARE FOR BOARDING.::-

The Republic transport closed with the ballistic Psyker ship, a vicious-looking docking claw extending. Inside, teams of marines prepared to take the offending vessel in to custody.

The same voice transmits again, her tone increasingly testy with each passing moment, "No, we won't prepare for boarding. You've two options now, asshole, you can stand down and let us be on our way, or you can start writing letters to next-of-kin. Now, I don't want to kill anyone, and to be nice, I'll even let you keep the individual who actually fired the engines, the one drifting in our wake, but you are not taking this ship, do you understand, Mister Poland?"

From astern, the drifting figure lets out a thunderous psychic shout, a young, masculine voice reverbrating outwards through the void, "You bitch! You saw how they were treating us on that mudball, and now you're going to throw me to them over a little shove with the thrusters?"

[Thirdfain]

-::ANY HOSTILE ACTIONS WILL BE MET WITH IMMEDIATE AND DEADLY FORCE. YOU ARE UNDER ARREST FOR CRIMES INCLUDING MURDER.::-

Tractors engaged from Katowica, holding the shuttle immobile. In thirty seconds, the boarding parties would be in.

[White Haven]

-::ANY HOSTILE ACTIONS WILL BE MET WITH IMMEDIATE AND DEADLY FORCE. YOU ARE UNDER ARREST FOR CRIMES INCLUDING MURDER.::-

Tractors engaged from Katowica, holding the shuttle immobile. In thirty seconds, the boarding parties would be in.

"I will make this deadly simple for you," the voice replies, her earlier hot anger replaced by an icy, level tone, "If you attempt to board this ship, I will no longer be acting to suppress this grouping. I will be acting as its coordinator, and rest assured, we will not die alone. You have a very impressive weight of metal in nearby space, so yes, you can destroy th is ship. But do not think it will be without cost. Now, I am not protecting the guilty party, so do not insult me by calling me a murderess. Neither I, nor any member of this grouping has harmed anyone here, although with your reprehensible behavior, it's becoming painfully tempting to change that. We have expelled the individual responsible; take him and be done, or take us and be damned."

[Thirdfain]

The docking clamp slammed into the hull.

[Darkevilme]

Chamaran diplomatic Yacht, Quintana reborn, earth orbit
Such psychic energies as are being harnessed intermittently nearby cannot go unnoticed. Even though the three feline psychers were originally instructed to cast their mind's eye across the world below instead they are distracted, compelled to observe as their attention is drawn to the drama unfolding around the League of thought vessel with it's polish pursuer. Esper sense and mental listening cast across that patch of space, listening loudly so to speak, their attention probably evident to the psychers within that ship.

The bodies of the feline psychers themselves inert and barely moving but for the occasional twitch in the pitch black, liquid and carefully regulated enviroment of the sensory deprivation pod, their minds distant.

[Redleader34]

(RETOCONED BY ORDER OF MOD)

[Academia Nut]

Crulmax System
Crulmathi
Palace of Transcendence

Laid out on enormous banquet tables is a feast befitting several kings, with dozens of strange dishes laid out, a few sections set aside.

"Most of this food is for various figures in the realms of importance of the Straltoc, and while more than a few Korrillstav will be in attendance, Lisbizif and Arlisdarl are also capable of eating, even if we don't need to. However, adult Straltoc prefer considerably more exotic fare and more than a few dishes are toxic or otherwise unpleasant for most creatures. We have taken steps to isolate these, but if you are unsure about anything please ask before putting it on your plate. Our cooking also tends towards the under-done side, and in fact some of our food is eaten still alive. Thus we obtained some meats and vegetables of Earth origin in case you are wary of allergic reactions. If you feel up to sampling our cusine, I would recommend starting with the wriggle grass. It is a photosynthetic fungoid that moves in response to attack and releases a neurotoxin that never evolved with mammals, or any Earth species, in mind that causes a pleasant tingling sensation in the mouth," Alraszi explains to the delegates before quietly whispering, "And we do have medical teams standing by in the event of unforseen allergic reactions."

[Thirdfain]

-::ALL VESSELS, THIS IS POLISH 1ST FLEET CORPS COMMAND. THERE HAS BEEN A GROSS VIOLATION OF KATOWICA DOCKING AND TRAFFIC CONTROL REGULATIONS RESULTING IN DEATHS <<img/video/recodsfollo>> STAY CLEAR OF THE FOLLOWING CO-ORDINATES AS FLEET ACTION MAY BE NECESSARY AGAINST A VESSEL RATED AT BATTLESHIP SCALE FIREPOWER::-

[Agent Fisher]

Most pirates assemble their ramshackle vessels at least partly as an excercise in penile compensation, for those pirates that represent penis-equipped species and gender (for those species that include gender), and these are no exception. Enormous engines? Check. Vast array of armaments of all flavours? Check. Oversized hull? Check. Tradeoffs have to be made somewhere, however, and that's usually in the area of defenses. No pirate ever excepts to face an even, fair fight, and as such, they tend to be ill-equipped for one. This is demonstrated rather graphically as the heart of the raider formation disintegrates in an overlapping cloud of fireballs, missiles punching through point-defense and ECM contemptuously, energy weapons treating screens in a similar fashion. The remaining four ships hold their charging course for a few, shocked seconds, then all four break formation, devolving into wild evasive maneuvers. Two actually deflect off each others shielding, the overloaded generators fusing solid at the energy transfer, leaving both ships defenseless.

The ROA ships shifted their fire to the defenseless ships, showing no mercy as their weapons fire tore into the pirate ships.

"Pirate vessels, you have attacked an ROA convoy. Four of your ships are going to be wiped out. Now, stand down, kill your engines, weapons and shields and prepare to be boarded. Non compliance will be met with destruction."

[rhoenix]

Crulmax System
Crulmathi
Palace of Transcendence

Looking at the monstrous spread of food dishes filling the equally gargantuan table, Archon Aya Brea and her two aides all simply absorbed the sight with pleasure for a moment, listening to Alraszi explain the differences in the numerous dishes, both Terran and Straltoc in origin.

After the introduction of all the food, Alraszi stage-whispered to the delegates, "And we do have medical teams standing by in the event of unforseen allergic reactions."

Chuckling, Archon Brea bowed slightly with a warm smile. "I am honored by your preparation, both culinary and medical for this feast, though I consider it unlikely that we would need the latter."

With that, she walked with her plate to the 'wiggle grass' Alraszi pointed out, and sampled some. Her eyebrows rose in surprise, but she waited to finish eating before looking with delight to her aides. "It's excellent. Alraszi, I'll be putting this on the list of things we'd like to trade you for, if you'd be willing."

She and her two wary aides began to sample other dishes, showing a surprising appetite. She turned to look at Alraszi, and smiled again. "I must say, Alraszi, you and your reception outdid yourselves many times over with this feast, and I think I speak for my two aides and I when I say we are grateful to be a part of it."

With that, she began to attack her dinner with relish, going back for more once. Her two aides appeared to not share her reservations, as they both refilled their plates at least twice each, leaning back in their chairs with satisfied sighs when they were done.

After they had finished, Archon Brea presented a small wooden box to Alraszi. "I waited to give this to you and your people at a more appropriate time - this is a sampling of the four best teas the Golden Sky Combine has to offer. All that is needed for preparation is the provided tea strainer, hot water, and a container in which it can steep for five minutes. Eight minutes for the Jotunheim Rooibos tea."