Disenfrancised
Beep Beep
All orders in except for Seon's and the penciled in chiefdesigner's for the quasi. Got some stuff on today so they have till this evening at least.
SYSNES2: On the Lathe of Suns
- Thread starter Disenfrancised
- Start date
Disenfrancised
Beep Beep
Nice story alex, though the font effects for just normal speech make it a really disjointing read. Also that Atooan failed to read the Dathic background - whole moons were filled with immigrants and they were pretty keen on the old money grubbing.
Also aren't diplomats meant to be you know, diplomatic
.
Also aren't diplomats meant to be you know, diplomatic
.
alex994
Hail Divine Emperor!
Nice story alex, though the font effects for just normal speech make it a really disjointing read. Also that Atooan failed to read the Dathic background - whole moons were filled with immigrants and they were pretty keen on the old money grubbing.
Also aren't diplomats meant to be you know, diplomatic
OOC: Well I saw the Atooans as the "true essence" of Datha who choose to ignore the many money grubbing parts which made Datha tick. People who choose to go off to a tiny moon colony and watch over what noob calls "Eskimos" must feel some higher calling than the pursuit of wealth!
Seon
Not An Evil Liar
Orders sent not late.
Disenfrancised
Beep Beep
All orders in except CD.
Going to have Thlayli, Alex, and a volunteer with no vested interests for a wee Space Battle at 11pm GMT on Monday. Be there or find a sub :3.
Going to have Thlayli, Alex, and a volunteer with no vested interests for a wee Space Battle at 11pm GMT on Monday. Be there or find a sub :3.
alex994
Hail Divine Emperor!
OOC: I should be able to make it. How big is the space battle and how long will it take? I have something soon after that time.
alex994
Hail Divine Emperor!
Kraznaya
Princeps
Yes they were?
Can't make the space battle; weird how I've been busy for both scheduled times.
Crezth
i knew you were a real man of the left
I could potentially be your third-party, if I can become well-enough acquainted with the rules by zero hour.
Maybe he thinks that "GMT" is just some fancy three-letter artifact you put after time stamps for aesthetic reasons.
Symphony D.
Deity
Viva la Robolution!
Disenfrancised
Beep Beep
Spoiler Battlelog for the BATTLE OF TORPOR :
Disenfrancised
Beep Beep
People do enjoy these acted out battles right? They are a hell of a lot of hassle to go to for me if people don't .
.
alex994
Hail Divine Emperor!
The bravery of the men and women of the Csser'ian Confederate Fleet will be remembered. Those who wage wars of aggression will be punished. We will prevail.
Thlayli
Le Pétit Prince
People do enjoy these acted out battles right? They are a hell of a lot of hassle to go to for me if people don't
I had a lot of fun.
qoou
Emperor
- Joined
- Dec 13, 2007
- Messages
- 1,991
People do enjoy these acted out battles right? They are a hell of a lot of hassle to go to for me if people don't
Greatly
Seon
Not An Evil Liar
lolwut.
alex994
Hail Divine Emperor!
Aftermath.
A few moments ago, I received reports that the Csser’ian Confederacy was suddenly and deliberately assaulted by the forces of the Council of Commodores. Their assault has caused severe damage to our military as well as civilian forces over Torpor. Very many Csser’ian lives have been lost.
The Csser’ian Confederacy was at peace with the Standards of the Fleet and were at the time engaged in negotiations to preserve the maintenance of relations in the Forest. Indeed, hours before the news of the Standardite assault upon our facilities, our governments were in communication over the future of the Standardites on SAF1 where Csser’ian forces are intimately involved in peacekeeping and evacuation activities.
The dedication of our people and our friends and allies to peace is not one shared by the Council of Commodores. In striking Torpor, the Council of Commodores screams their penchant for naked aggression and their blatant disregard for peace. Ever since our first vessels came to Abell, we have endeavored to bring peace and prosperity throughout the stars. Ours was a dream of peace. The dream is over. We have been dragged by hate into the cold reality.
The people of the Csser’ian Confederacy have already made their minds over the nature of the aggression of the Council of Commodores and the implication it has for the very life and safety of our society.
As Prime Minister and High Commander of our military forces, I have ordered that all measures be taken to safeguard our defenses. Ships shall be built, armies recruited and we shall wage war to its utmost conclusion.
This assault by the Commodores and those who support them will not be forgotten or forgiven.
Regardless of the blood and the tears we shall shed, we will overcome this naked aggression. The Csser’ian people in their righteous anger will triumph over those who would see our vision defeated.
I believe I speak for all Csser’ians when I say that not only shall we ensure the defeat of the Council of Commodores, we will endeavor to make certain that this form of naked aggression will not be allowed to threaten us or our friends ever again.
I ask the United Council to declare that since the unprovoked and merciless assault by the Council of Commodores on Torpor, a state of total war has existed between the Csser’ian Confederacy and the Standardite Council of Commodores.
Josef Leoni, Prime Minister
--------------------------
She stared at the stars.
So dark, so cold.
They were all gone.
Her children. They were all that was left to her.
Nathan with his bright smile and hopeful eyes.
Cassie with her cocky swagger and fun-loving attitude.
Rachel and her dark, brooding face.
They were all gone.
When the report had come through, that all ships had been destroyed except one, she had prayed to Mother Mern for protection. Her prayers had been unanswered. They had gone unanswered before.
Her children’s father had died there, died on Mother Mern as fire fell from the skies. They had fled. Fled to the North, to Lyst, to the Oiat, and lastly to Larsilla. It had been a home, a home of sorts for the last few years. She had gotten comfortable, been happy, made new friends, found old ones. Stories of joy and reunion, and tales of woe and death. She had swore to forget and live life, but no.
She had watched, idly stood by, as child after child slipped away from her fingers. A part of her died as she saw her children change, forgetting Mern.
“Mother, we’re Csser’ians now, Mernt Csser’ians” as Nathan smiled at her, “We’ll all return to Mern one day, part of a Csser’ian fleet and a Csser’ian army and the Standardites will flee” Cassie had said filled with hope and pride, Rachel was the loneliest and whispered “Mother, if not the Csser’ians, who? We would all be dead” even as she stepped onto the shuttle that took her to death.
They had not been the only of Mother Mern’s children to take on the emblem of the Csser’ian Phoenix. In the small cramped apartments of home, children had all flocked to the Csser’ian flag. “See the galaxy” the recruiters had promised, “discover yourself”, “defend your family and country” and “free education and good pay” had been the sweet honey that lured their children away.
Leaving them behind, them of Mother Mern, them of warm Oia, them of the dark Vale, them of those the Lyst turned away, they were all left behind at Larsilla. In an alien and foreign land where Mother Mern was part of just another star in the sky, in Larsilla where life was fed by alien foreign Csser’ian machines.
She knew those who stormed the Standardite embassy, only to be arrested by their friends in the police force. Who were these Csser’ians? She heard the words of their Prime Minister, a Josef Leoni, declaring that war had begun and that they would not rest. So what? It was too late for her. They were all gone. Like her father, her mother, her aunts and uncles. All dead at the hands of the murdering Standardites. They were all together now. Just her.
Closing her eyes, she tried to feel the warmth of Mother Mern once more. In the days before the stars were wide open, before they came from beyond and slaughtered all she loved. She remembered the festivals and rites commemorating the seasons. She remembered when she first saw Lyst in its glory and marveled at how the ancients build such wondrous structures, when the entire family ate and simply chatted into the depths of the night. They were all gone, all gone now. She prepared for the plunge and the descent and stepped forward.
She fell on the floor.
What?
She opened her eyes. Eyes stared at her. They were no Mernt eyes.
Csser’ian eyes.
Who else would have eyes of light azule and dark steel? Eyes always with a quick smile, a kind word and a friendly embrace.
The eyes stared at her.
“It’s okay. Mother Mern goes on, she goes on in all of us. Death is not the end. Despair is.”
The young girl looked so much like Cassie. The same swagger, that same confidence.
“Don’t worry, we will win mam. Despair is death. Not just our death, but the death of our hopes and dreams.”
Cassie hugged her. Nathan smiled at her. Rachel nodded.
“You’re not alone. You never will be. We’re Csser’ian.”
She nodded at the girl. Her children had always said. “Mother Mern is always with us. It’s our job, no, our duty, to make sure others remember. Living is to defy the Standardite monsters.” She smiled and found her tongue.”
“And we never give up. “
Crezth
i knew you were a real man of the left
r.i.p. the forest
Symphony D.
Deity
Balance and the Butcher’s Bill
UC 4976 - Roland
[tab]There was only low-bitrate static as the final Csser’ian ship went dark. Its last transmission had been a gallant cry of “For the Confederacy!” punctuated by distorted gunfire before it went off air. The abruptness left little doubt that in any event it was no longer whole. Among the suit-wearing figures around the ring-shaped table, both those in austere civilian and Spartan military dress sat silently with faces like stone beneath the vertical lighting, regarding the hologram between them all.
[tab]It was a slowly moving plot of seven-variable ship indicators: x, y, z, velocity, acceleration, time, and type. All the indicators were hostile red, with multiple dead greys drifting about. Below hovered a blue dot in orbit around the grey bulk of the ice giant Torpor, which also possessed a blue dot on its surface. Suddenly the orbital dot winked out.
[tab]“Destroyed?” asked Roland.
[tab]“No way to be sure, sir.”
[tab]“Give me your best guess.”
[tab]“What data we have on the Standard’s Marksman class indicates that two full-power shots is virtually a guaranteed kill on Torpor Station, greater than 95% certainty.”
[tab]“Casualties?”
[tab]“There were five specialist teams on site: three ours, one Csser’ian, and one Hankish. Anything between no casualties to 100% is possible, but most simulations are averaging around 50%.”
[tab]“Quantify that in numbers for me.”
[tab]“Around 30,000 to 50,000 people in total. We don’t have accurate tallies on this end considering it was under Csser’ian jurisdiction.”
[tab]Roland found he could not take his eyes off the dotted grey that marked where Torpor Station had been—possibly still was. He himself had signed the transfer orders for the Hydrometeorologist team to leave the atmospheric facility and wait there in preparation for departure. “I don’t believe in miracles. Assume the worst,” he said. The blue dot upon Torpor itself kept to its slow revolution as if nothing at all had transpired above it. “And the pumping facility?”
[tab]“No word, but apparently intact.”
[tab]Eerie silence returned to the room in the statement’s wake. There were subtle flickers across the skins of the administration officials and general staff present.
[tab]“Prepare letters of condolences to the families of all those known to be on Torpor Station. Wake up the speechwriters and get me airtime within one hour.”
[tab]At this the flickers turned to rapid-fire torrents and murmurs.
[tab]“If you have something to say,” Roland said with resignation, “Say it to my face.”
[tab]And then the flood of criticism came all at once in overlapping waves.
[tab]“We have been petitioning for increased defense spending for the past four years and this administration has restructured our assets on the promise that such was forthcoming! All we have gotten are theoretical advances and not one damn cent devoted to applied hardware—” said one of the Generals.
[tab]“We have repeatedly warned that the focus on deferring fleet buildup until economic growth was favorable was a dangerous move that was trading security for capability, and this demonstrates that handily. You were the damn SSB Director for—” came another.
[tab]“The political ramifications of assuming culpability for this catastrophe are incalculable! We need time to spin this and do damage control—” said Melantha, his primary advisor.
[tab]“We’re looking at an economic collapse in the subsector until that system is cleared, given that it was the primary Csser’ian trade artery. All our gains to-date are going to see immediate reversals and with the militarization program you people—and the people—are going to demand, we’ll be lucky to spend a single ingot on infra—” said one of the administration officials.
[tab]There was yet more, a tidal surge of doom and gloom.
[tab]“That’s enough.”
[tab]And still it came, a tsunami of dark prognostication and finger-pointing, a figurative circular firing-squad that seemed in its most heated moments to threaten becoming literal.
[tab]“The Rebel dogs cut and ran like cowards to save their own skin—”
[tab]“We should never have relied on baselines for the safety of our people, what were you thinking? Were you thinking?—”
[tab]“We don’t even have a workable, updated attack vehicle through the design committee yet, how are we supposed to ensure our territorial integrity when we don’t even—”
[tab]“These joint intelligence communiqués show clearly that the Csser’ians were persuaded to hold fire by the Rebels in order to try and keep their own fleet numbers intact if possible! Why was this not noted? Why was it not countermanded? What idiot—”
[tab]Roland abruptly stood, his skin running electric with vitriol, and slammed his palms on heavy-wood surface of the table, hissing with venom “I said that’s enough.”
[tab]The room abruptly snapped to ominous silence under his slowly pivoting leer. He swept it across the room like a scanner, the motion methodically slow and perfectly smooth. His teeth were just barely visible, immaculately white. It was not a pleasant expression, and although the Praxzen had tinkered greatly with the human bauplan and intellect, there was more than enough instinct left to recognize it as a supremely assertive display of primate dominance mechanics in action. The others reclined in their seats, all grimaces and averted eyes. Roland let the quiet reign, his skin patterns fading to smoldering cryptograms of ire.
[tab]When he at last spoke it was soft, and deliberately restrained: “This is not the Bureaucracy. This is the Republic. As its President, I am ultimately responsible for all actions taken in its name. I will not shirk or deflect that responsibility, and I acknowledge that whatever the genesis of these circumstances, this outcome has occurred on my watch.
[tab]“But,” he added with force, “I will not tolerate politicking and jockeying for the high ground in a moment of crisis! Do I make myself clear?”
[tab]There was a cascade of renditions of “Yes, sir,” as though from admonished school children.
[tab]Roland shifted, straightening up, and fiddled with his tie, tightening it. “Are the speechwriters up?”
[tab]“They’re on their way now, sir.”
[tab]Roland pivoted as if to study the contents of the screen behind him. “Now you’re the best we’ve got and you’re going to act like it or so help me I will throw you out of the capitol myself. We did not get here on promises of bickering, but on assurances of cohesive forward action! We have got to get on top of this. I want those writers working on material on the way here. They have fifty minutes. I want it remorseful, courageous, unifying, vengeful—no, I’ll put the fire and brimstone in it myself. I want military acquisitions’ design committees working overtime; I want a comprehensive military armaments plan on my desk by this evening; I want the Csser’ian Prime Minister on the hotline in five; and I want somebody to get in touch with General Azhar and get her on an encrypted holophone line in ninety,” he said, intensity rising with each item.
[tab]“Yes, sir,” came the reply, shaky, but more assured.
[tab]Roland turned his head fractionally back toward them “Dismissed.”
[tab]The room burst into a flurry of activity as military personnel, administration officials, and staffers bustled to fulfill their new directives.
[tab]Roland soon found himself alone in the room. He made a fist as if to smash the monitor before him, only to unclench it and rest his open palm on the cool glass.
*
[tab]He found himself sitting in front of an integrated, quantum-encrypted holophone unit. The other end was empty, until with a dignified motion the crisp and shapely form of General Lena Azhar slid into the empty chair facing him. Her bearing was cordial.
[tab]“President Marius. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
[tab]“General Azhar,” he managed with faux reciprocity, before adding “Come on, Lena, don’t be like that.”
[tab]“Rules are rules,” she said mirthlessly.
[tab]Roland managed to find himself giving a thin smile. “I’ve got some good news and some bad news. Which do you want first?”
[tab]“Give me the good news first.”
[tab]“We’re approving your request for additional manpower for the Special Infantry Service, and are proceeding with the development of a new military transport.”
[tab]“You mean I’m never going to have to ride on Spirit of Crypsis again? Say it ain’t so, Ro. Why the sudden change of heart?”
[tab]“That’s the bad news.”
[tab]That immediately got her attention. All the playfulness drained away in an instant and it was like she was across the table, eyes drilling into him with laser intensity.
[tab]“There’s been an incident at Torpor,” he continued, “We may have sustained substantial civilian casualties.”
[tab]“How substantial?” she grated.
[tab]“Potentially as many as 30,000. The situation is still developing.”
[tab]Lena jerked her head to one side, uttering curses.
[tab]He set his face to as placid an expression as he could and watched her seethe for a moment before her glare returned to him. He had seen it all before, would no doubt see it all again. “It’s in the report,” he said. He pushed a data chit across the table, it transferring across the world to her end.
[tab]For her part, Lena knew better than cast aspersions at this stage. “What are we going to do?”
[tab]“What we always do.”
[tab]A long, brittle silence followed as the two stared at one another.
***