GalaxyNES- No Horizons

Just had a few great conversations on #nes about the cosmology of the GalaxyNES Universe. Very fun stuff, hopefully a few of the things we talked about will get expressed in the thread shortly!
 
The Prodigal Student

Over the blue and white marble once known as Nuxue B, the spindly apparatus of a Zan Starship unfolded in high orbit. The mind of the Zan Shamai was focused intently on this one craft. The response came, and Shamai winced- but he felt not the moment of blindness that the destruction of his vessel would have brought. The voices from beneath those enshielding seas bathed his mind.

“Hello Prodigal Zan. You have returned to the Ocean Family at last. What is it that you wish to ask of us?

Shamai felt… what for lack of a better word was discomfort.

“I am here to… humble myself. I wish to learn.”

“Do you have the patience to learn, Shamai?”

“I lack patience. Yet I wish to learn. Will the ocean dwellers teach me patience?”

“Patience can by taught only by yourself. We strove for eons to uncover that which is now entirely ntural to us. So, perhaps, must you.”

“’Reality’ is not what it seems to be. When one truly understands, one realizes that it is naught but a façade. It is an elegant string puppetwork, floating unanchored through time.”

“Wait, a façade…?”

“When one truly understands, they realize that they can reach beneath this little puppet-box and… tweak at the strings. At first, these actions are naught but tentative taps- one may convert one element to another, create a particle, or perhaps move an electron- but as one gains experience with this cosmic plaything, they come to realize than they can do much, much more.”

“No! I mean, A façade in what sense, for I feel that I exist in this reality... my own weapons show that reality can be warped into nothing. Is that what behind reality? Just a void?”

“Beneath reality… lies… infinity.”

Shamai could almost roll his eyes. These ocean-dwellers seemed to speak in nothing but metaphors and vague, grand sounding but meaningless platitudes.

“There are infinite other worlds, or so we understand. Even the vaunted Wera know of only the tiniest fraction.”

“I see. Please, go on about the universe- this one. I care not for the others.”

“Very well. Within this cosmic instrument, one learns how to compose, how to play, how to shape even the most elegant concertos. One creates life at a whim, extinguishes a world… or perhaps creates a tiny malfunction inside a giant death machine aimed at their world.”

Shamai winced at the memory of past mistakes, but strove on undaunted. The Ocean, sensing his thoughts, gave what might have been the mental equivalent of a stern, knowing nod, as if Shamai’s attempted xenocide of their kind was nothing more than the prank of some wayward child.

“Okay Weavers… or Ocean Family, or whatever you are. I shall dedicate myself to learn. There is just one last project which I must complete before I do so.”

“We will be here, as we are ever. Exercise caution, Shamai, for both yourself and others. You tear at our tapestry of truth, spinning into it patterns bizarre and unprecedented for our kind. We are fascinated by this. Fascinated and concerned. We shall await your return.”

In silence, Shamai’s vessel folded itself back together, like some bizarre metal origami, and slipped back into the darkness of the void.
 
It is done. I stand in fear in front of this massive construction, the robotics tend to demand far smaller installations, but this has demanded greater power and room.
*a massive robotic hand installs a new tiny chip into Shamai's biologic body*
I feel it. I hear it in my mind. The infinite mind of a Zan now enlarged an infinite fold. I hear a call. I let the device's door open. Inside stands my creation, my most wonderful creation of them all.

I am here. I stand before me, yet how can I stand before me?

*another robotic head installs a chip into Shamai standing inside the machine*

I feel as well. I hear in my mind endless robotics calling me, war is being rages, memories flow in my mind, I am Shamai of the Zan. Shamai of the Zan stands.

Yes. The experiment is a success. I am here and I am there. A perfect Zan Shamai stands in front of me. Two voices in my head now speak the same words. We are in one phase.

One voice for us both. It is indeed a wondrous plan. and I have succeeded, you have succeeded.

We have succeeded. This is the beginning of a new era my self. You are now to rule the empire. You are now to deal with the hegemony and all life that must be eradicated, all life but us. Continue our business as usual, make sure no one knows you and I both exist. Bring down the puny enemies who think they are a match. The new ships and weapon are yours to command, command them well. Remember the Wera are powerful, but we have their weakness. You have their weakness. I have their weakness.

Father in the ocean, you must hurry away now, the ocean dwellers wait. you must learn so we will ascend further than the Zan ever dreamed.


A great ship left the main fleet that was heading towards Koraft. It was a small simple vessel, designed especially for it's target. It quickly moved away from the fleet backwards, into the darkness. In a few hours it stood above the oceans of Nuxue B. "Ocean dwellers, I am here to learn and dedicate as much time as I will be required. I have come alone, with only this ship as a home. I ask to ascend to your ocean and attach myself to this world, until the student will be filled with knowledge."
 
Like the blundering noise of a tuba in full blow the master alarm sounds in the background. Republican patrol ships out too far had found themselves in the midst of Kena's machines. Using their mass and sheer kinetic energy to crush into the hull of the Republican ships, the spiderlike mechanical horrors of the Zan Hegemony crawl into the ships as the internal life support rushes out. Power failures ripple up and down the interior of the ship, corridors went from brightly lit to the faint red glow of the alarms. The crew runs about in a panic, mixed members of all the races of the Republic, including one entirely confused young Choon. On the bridge the commanding officers are in disarray from the sudden jolts of impact and rupture, gathering themselves to their posts the Verthomme captain issues containment orders for the breach. Pressing multiple buttons on the computers the officers manage to seal off the worst damaged locations on the ship, outside the observatory windows they see that one of the companion vessels has been overrun and broken in two by the Zan machines.

In the barracks soldiers come and go, gathering weapons and other equipment to meet the threat that has yet to spread through the decks. They've never met Zan head to head, but they've heard the horror stories. Razor like legs, red menacing eyes and the sound of less than adequately lubricated gears and joints. The Zan are every child's worst nightmare in this part of the galaxy – perhaps even everywhere – and the crew was far from courageous in this calm. Fudirun fuzzballs crawl into small mechanical suits to assist them in the combat, wielding much more advanced forms of the weapons used by the Lauki revolutionaries in their war. Better shielding and weaponry, speed and versatility; the greatest minds had been perfecting the weapons of war for many generations now. Lauki and Verthomme grabbed hand weapons, from small plasma pistols to large railgun type assault weaponry, explosives and more. Pouring in and out of the barracks and spreading around the ship to the obvious points of entry.

A group of mixed matched warriors find themselves on the breathable side of a mighty sturdy airlock, the rolling black outs continuing while an eerie silence raises the tension. A sudden sound of tinkering, tapping of fine pointed metallic objects along the opposite side of the barrier alerts them. Cowering in fear, some duck behind walls and into rooms, others shake anxiously in the halls looking on with weapons at the ready. The clanking sounds intensify in increments.

Clank.

Clank.

Clank Clank Clank.

Bzzt.

The sound stops as the black out returns, but no longer rolling the entire ship goes black, powerless, lifeless. A brave Lauki wearing little more than his tiny sidearm studders to break the silence.

“Ha-ha th-they cut cut the pow-pow-we-wer.”

Next to him a Fudirun in full battle armor decided his morale boosting two cents would be a game changer.

“Our fleshy wall will protect the republic!”

The definite sounds of sighs fills the corridor. The faint sounds of clanking returns, as if the machines opposite the airlock were moving away, their spidery legs gripping and tearing into all parts of the circular passageways. A brief moment of relief passes the group in the pitch blackness, but it is short lived. A long appendage of a machine slices into the side of the airlock, pulling it open with amazing strength and force, contorting the metal like a gymnast. The red eyes, if they can be called such a thing, of the machines of Kena illuminate the corridor and the occupants therein; the suction of pressure difference caused some to lose footing. As if a sudden burst of slow motion overtook them the group raised their weapons, some yelling and some crying, others with a calm so unusual one would suspect insanity.

They fire their weapons without aim, blasting everything in front of them as one machine after another crawls through and towards them. Like a bursting eggsack of a spider they swarm the delicious flesh, ripping at it with knife like blades on every last limb. The firefight is brief before the republicans turn and run. The leading Zan machine riles back like a cobra to strike the armored Fudirun, yet his target gave no ground. Reaching up to parry the swipes, the brave little fuzzball, no matter how pink, held his ground for that brief moment. Firing his weapons point blank into a few of the machines leading the rampage and severely wounding a couple of them. A final metal sliver ran him through; his armor falling limp in the process.

The lights from energy weaponry of all sorts, sparks from metal on metal contact and the evil glow of the mechanical eyes gave this small battle the appearance of a rave. However, there was nothing but ranting to be had in this particular moment. As across the ship the Zan horror spread rapidly, delayed on a moment to moment basis by explosives or particularly brave individuals. But the blacked out ship was dead in the water being over run like the other companion ships in the patrol. Soon it would be silent.

Or atleast you would believe so, but never shall a belief go undisturbed in this corner of the galaxy. By happenstance the same Wera contacted by the Republic for aid was passing through the sector of space at high velocity, riding the waves of the fabric of space time itself and leaving a massive wake as consequence. Directly through the middle of the battlefield, without so much as blinking an eye to the incident, the Wera caused a great destruction on both the Zan ships and the Republic ships. Effectively crushing the battle and without noticing the slight break in the great Ocean, claiming a victory against the Zan.
 
In light of our newest subjects, it would behoove us to examine the recent history of the planets neighboring us. While of course the study of the people who lost the Long War would appear to us to be a largely fruitless endeavor, this is not so. Karronic warfare, in light of our recent experiences, and our initial investigations, seems predicated on the infiltration and undermining of opponents rather than destruction on the field of combat.1 The only logical conclusion is that these are a people infused with paranoia, treachery, and underhanded tactics – not only would it be foolish to fully trust them in any positions of import in the Empire, but it would also...

– from Policy, issue 297, article 3.

Peri lifted her tail a bit. Oerra had this effect on everyone, she reminded herself; the Fehan was utterly terrifying to talk to. At least, on any matter more important than what she had had for breakfast – thankfully her description of “a bowl of alam” lacked that certain coldness that characterized most of her other conversation. But right now, she was certainly talking about more serious things, and right now Peri could not help the involuntary reaction that made her look like some kind of wild animal on the verge of bursting into flight.

“...she's on Helan right now, all my sources tell me, but there's every possibility she'll be on the move if she hears what you're up to. It is vital that you are careful.”

“I will do my best,” Peri said, her voice a little flat.

“See that you do. And I don't mind if you hire cronies or do whatever it takes to ensure the success of this little operation, believe me. I'll give you a pretty hefty line of credit – as far as I'm concerned you can spend it on whatever you want, drugs, drinks, thugs – whatever you want. As long as you carry out the mission successfully. Nothing else matters. Nothing.”

“I understand.”

“And if you do happen to go hiring some private security, whatever you do, do not tell them the full extent of your mission. Oh, sure, tell them you're hunting someone, if you like, but... Only tell them who if they are stupid. Only tell them why if you intend to shoot them immediately afterward. Only violate those two commands if you intend to be extremely stupid.”

“Thank you, m'am.”

“Is there anything else you need to know?”

“Do you have any advice?” Peri whistled weakly. She desperately did not want to screw this up.

“Of course I don't. Peri, I chose you for this mission because you are trustworthy, and because you're clever enough to think on your feet. I'm certain whatever you come up with independently will be good enough, and I trust you will figure out how to capture her without too much input from me. I am a busy Fehan; I frankly do not have the time to babysit you. Which reminds me, you'll get a special communicator to talk to me and me alone, but only use it in the most dire or the most happy of circumstances. If you're going to buzz me every time you hit a roadblock I'll get annoyed.”

Privately, Peri thought that there was little chance she would call for anything short of the completion of her mission – and probably not even that. The fewer chances she had to talk to Oerra, the better.

“You're quiet,” Oerra observed, her voice completely devoid of any emotion.

“Just thinking, m'am.”

“Do you wonder why I want to catch her so badly, Peri?”

“It's not really my place to wonder,” Peri said, her voice sounding very small.

“It isn't, but you do anyway. So I'll tell you.” Oerra swung about a bit on the wall, as though testing how much weight a branch would bear. “I want her for simple reasons.” Her eyes glittered. “Secrets.” Oerra stretched, opened the door, and began to climb out of the room, towards the center of the ship. “Your shuttle will be ready immediately. Take care.”

Peri waited for a few moments as the sound of Oerra faded away, and then realized she was holding her breath. She let it out in a rush, six airholes whistling in a discordant harmony. There was nothing for it. She would go to Helan.


Next Story in Arc
 
Homeworld

The Ysir have a game that they have played, in some form or another, since the beginnings of their civilization. In ancient hydraulic empires it was used as a test for the meritocratic bureaucracy, in golden ages it was played by king and peasant alike, and in dark ages it became a matter of life and death, used to settle disputes and determine guilt. A number of simple geometric shapes, in the four primary colors visible to the Ysir eye, are the pieces. Their orientation determines which player they belong to. There is an accompanying deck of cards that allows players to move their pieces, convince enemy pieces to change sides, build new ones, and shift the terrain to their advantage. In those old hydraulic empires it was played on a set of three boards, one after another, with success on one board improving your position on the ones that came after it. The pieces represented guild heavy infantry, longbowmen, lancers, warbeasts, priests, spies and the despots.

In the modern Hammenamir, the game continues. The pieces are now hunter-killers, knifeships, escort cruisers, merchantmen, spooks, drone carriers and cityships. The three boards have been replaced by a single board, with an expanding cluster of planets determined by cards. The biggest divergence is the presence of the Homeworld, from which every player begins and from which every player has his source of industry and population. All their moves in the early game have the goal of strengthening their presence on the homeworld, securing resources to support their hammes. In a game of shifting allegiances, for both the pieces and the players, it is some time before a single dominant hamme emerges.

And this is where the true game begins. Where the soul of the Ysir, as a species, is laid bare. For every faction, when backed into a corner, has a weapon that they can use to gain another shot at victory. Conflict around the Homeworld is limited in the game, as it was in history, as any fighting there would inflict great damage on the power bases of each hamme. The use of a singularity in the Homeworld, wiping out the strong and weak alike and leaving them with their scattered trading fleets and colonies, allows a hamme on the brink of destruction to turn the tables on a more powerful enemy. It is easier to build up strength on the homeworld than to support a colony, so frequently the strongest hamme in the game has much of their shipyards and influence concentrated around a single, vulnerable planet.

And the fundamental truth of the Ysir is this: they will do whatever is necessary to win, to survive. To destroy billions of their brethren? Wipe out millenia of art, culture, history in a single storm of gravitic fury? Doom their entire species to an existence scavenging a living among the stars? Damn themselves in the eyes of their God?

Yes. God, yes. In a heartbeat, a thought. Every player, at one point in their lives, accepts defeat. They imagine a world where they submitted and prospered, where their children breathed fresh air. And, however delicious it may seem in the void, the fruit turns to ash in their mouth. That is not the Ysir. That is not, ironically, what God demands. They are a harsh, bitter race that triumphed against a thousand natural predators and an environment that left a tenth of the population dying of old age because they always struggle.

Their homeworld is simply Home to them, and they destroyed it. They feel the guilt, their religion teaches them that it has damned their entire species, but again and again they would make the same choice. Again and again, they would choose to wander, to comb the stars for a punishment fitting their crime, for a trial that could earn a smile from their God.

Every Ysir looks forward to the Last Days, when God calls upon them to fight one Last Battle against the Enemy, a battle that will consume their entire species. In death, especially death in battle, they believe they can atone for their sins.

They are a swarm of locusts travelling through the galaxy. They are pilgrims looking for their salvation. They are a damned species spreading turmoil in their wake.

They are Ysir. May God have mercy on their souls.
 
The wild fluctuations of the singularity came to a sudden stop as the One completely engulfed it.

For a brief single moment, an infinitesimal amount of time, there was peace there in the darkness of the black hole. Then the One converted the last of the singularities ultra compact matter into energy, the gravitational forces which had contained this rip in the fabric of space were gone. The tear closed violently, expelling the remaining energies of the black hole as the event horizon collapsed.

The accretion disk swirling, trapped, around the event horizon blew apart. Energy and matter drawn in from across the universe was suddenly released, rocketing across space with incredible force. The shock wave rocked the Wera and sent it tumbling wildly through space for several light-years before it could stop itself.

The One was throne back into normal space just ahead of the peak of the shock waves. Already flooded with an incomprehensible amount of energy, the One took the brunt of the shock wave. It absorbed the most dangerous of the energy, but a huge burst of strange radiation and matter moving at the speed of light expanded in every direction. The remaining wave of energy and matter would fertilize countless planets on its trillion year trek through the stars.

The One was stationary in space pulsing radiation into the dormant Many.

The Many's tiny metallic forms sprang to life and began to release their magnetic hold on the One. They seal themselves to the One for protection with an unbreakable magnetic hold when necessary, the forces of the black hole had tested their strength, and they had prevailed. The Many reversed their polarity and sprang away from the One quickly, propelled by the opposing magnetism.

The Many move individually by consuming the tiny particles in space and expelling them forcefully, propelling themselves through space quickly. However they often cling to the One magnetically when moving at high speeds through interstellar space.

They began to move now, swirling around the pulsing One.
 
Update 19

The Fehan, basking in their victory over the Karronics, have instated a new order throughout their sphere of influence. The Democratic Federation of Akari has been confirmed as an entity subservient to, but independent of the Fehan, and the remaining Karronic world of Dalikah has been placed under Akari protection. Meanwhile, free from warfare for the first time, the Fehan are free to stop the massive expansion of their fleet and resume their temporarily halted exploration into the universe. Exploratory vessels travel hubwards and corewards out of Fehan space, uncovering a new habitable world in the low-density regions at the outer edge of the known galactic arm. Meanwhile, simple colonies have been established at the two ‘corridor worlds’ between Fehan space and the realm of the Mejani and Kadanoff, christening the planets as Taki and Emalan. The incident at Karaith came to a surprising conclusion. Following an unthinking imperative to consume, the Devouring One was lured further and further away from the settled system by its new Wera quarry. After a long pursuit, the starborne monstrosity was lured into a black hole some distance antispinwards from Karaith. With agonizing anticipation, the Wera watched as the mindless creature shambled its way directly towards the singularity, too enamoured with the consumption of the object’s colossal accretion disc to recognize its imminent doom. It came as an anticlimactic conclusion when the Devouring One simply spaghettified, redshifted and sank beyond the event horizon. No sooner had this been done, the Wera sprung into actions which would be very significant in a far distant region of space.

Hammenammir’s expansion resumes, although it now lacks a truly united direction. Rather, Migrant Hammes expand outwards, coming into contact with the quiet Sgligatiki world of Izozathre and, increasingly, the Fehan. Meanwhile, Habitant Hammes continue to expand across the surface of their adopted homeworld, which has come to be known as ‘Destination’- a bit of a jab at their Migrant bretheren, who continue their search through the stars for some different promised land.

Through the use of a well-designed and automated system of colonization, the Kadanoff have undergone a burst of expansion, bringing a full three new systems into the Unity. Independent growth and development beyond the initial automated factories is not expected until the locals have been given a few generations to fine-tune their bodies to the new environments, taking advantage of the full genetic diversity to be harvested on each of these new worlds. It is expected that these new worlds will receive their names once hte Kadanoff have adapted themselves enough to truly call these alien planets ‘home’.

Inspired, perhaps, by the expansions of their Kadanoff neighbours and the encroachment of the Fehan, a consortium of Lyran engineers have created the Mejani Union’s first functional superluminal vessel. This first ship has made diplomatic excursions to Sapro and Emalan- bold first steps of a young civilization getting its first taste of rapid interstellar travel. A second vessel, designed with exploratory purposes, has already been completed in the orbital shipyards of the star Demi.

Across a grand swath of space, stretching from the Galactic Republic’s capital world of Garv’n to the throne world of the Zan Shamai himself, war raged. The Galactic Republic fought a desperate defense against the incessant assault of the Zan Kena, while New Braniga and the Collectivity of Sanath sought to bring an end to Shamai’s menace once and for all. Smaller civilizations such as those of the Shu-Ghoo and Kog’Vlad cowered and laid low, hoping to avoid the attention of these behemoths as they did battle with forces the scale and strength of which have not been seen in this sector since the fall of Turamak Katzil. Even the normally unaligned elder races of the region were beginning to be drawn into the conflict. The Wera involved themselves in the fight against the Zan more so than ever before; Shamai, still hoping to learn the secrets to physical mastery over the universe, has resumed his contact with the enigmatic ‘Ocean Family’ of Nuxue B; and an entirely unexpected new peril arrived from a great distance to feast upon the destruction in the region.

Shamai, beset by a determined alliance of many species, felt himself quite irritated by their involvement. He had more important things to do than deal with their impudent assault- he had projects to complete, universal secrets to unwravel... he had simply too many things on his plate to pay full attention to each. Even for a being with the immense processing and multitasking skills of a Zan, there was not enough. Shamai had a long history of adding computerized mental augmentations to himself, but even this practice was beginning to run into its limits. What Shamai really needed more of hisself.

And so it was that Shamai, always a maverick amongst the Zan, concocted the most vile heresy against Zan Dogma yet, something that would surely earn his near-instantaneous demise at the hands of the Hegemony should it be discovered. He would engage in an activity so deeply taboo that it could barely even be pondered. He would create a clone, taken from the delicate, crippled mass of protoplasm and nerves that were all that remained of his body. Even after some concerned research Shamai decided that the threat of bringing about a return of the Cataclysm which had destroyed the bodies of untold billions of Zan hundreds of thousands of years ago would not be enough to stop him. He would grow it, and many others, so that he could be more than any other Zan. He would replace them, the old fools, trapped in their mindless, pointless empire building- and then he would rule the hegemony! The Galaxy would be his to crush... but what to do after that? Escape the Galaxy, conquer more? Perhaps. Then, he would take the minds of the Ocean Family, pursue the Wera into other dimensions and destroy them there too. All would burn before Shamai, and Shamai would be everything! And everyone! Everywhere, for all of eternity until the crushing, catstrophic death of the cosmos itself!

Little had Shamai suspected that a devious plan was unfolding in the heart of his present enemy, the Collectivity of Sanath. In centuries past, Qii Philosophers had stated that salvation and goodness could be found in all species, and for almost as long the greatest counterexample to this argument had been the existence of the Zan. Numerous proposals had thus been made in recent times to attempt to ‘save’ the Zan. Some fringe astroarchaeological research had suggested that at some point in the past, over half a million years prior to the present, the Zan had existed as a peaceful, organic race, before they fell into the clutches of evil. These findings were heavily disputed, finding particularly strong opposition in those who found the concept of the deeply biophobic Zan could possibly have non-robotic roots. Others made arguments of nature and nurture- but ultimately these arguments came to naught but philosophical debate, with a lack of physical evidence about the Zan. Thus was the zany plot hatched to extract a sample from which the initial form of the Zan could be derived. A foolhardy mission- taking any piece of Shamai at all would be all but impossible. However, when advanced Sanathi scouts discovered unfamiliar biosignatures on the surface of Shamai’s planet, an incredible opportunity was seized.

With Shamai’s attentions diverted by the aforementioned mass of distractions, a tiny squad of stealth-suited Nitha were released from the raiding fleet of Kasekral Commander Dakar Tash’Kral, managing to land on the surface of the planet Shamai. Selecting the most isolated biosignature on the world- a bizarre mechanical laboratory of a planet long-since cleared of life to make way for (or perhaps as a result of) the Zan’s compulsive experimentation- the Nitha made their way to the nearby point. Disabling the defences of the bio lab, the Nitha burst in, seized a small device holding an embryonic lifeform, and fled. Shamai, who had noticed the insertion as nothing but a small micrometerite impact, became aware of the intrusion the instant that his systems in the area were disabled. A huge force of machines were called to action, but a sentimental wish to not harm the tiny kidnapped creature may have denied Shamai the killer edge that would have given him a chance to catch the crafty infiltrators. 7 of the 12 Nitha were killed before reaching their escape craft, and one further succumbed to its wounds shortly after the Collectivity vessel exceeded escape velocity. The four survivors managed to evade a handful of scrambled Zan Interceptors before escaping to the relative safety of the jump. One final Zan attempt to prevent the escape managed to temporarily evict the kidnappers from their jump before they could rendezvous with their carrier fleet, but the Nitha managed to make an emergency escape in a single, extremely cramped escape pod. Recovered by Tash’Kral’s fleet and shipped immediately to Kurilate, the Nitha have received a hero’s welcome, while the apparent Zan Embryo, held in some sort of stasis device, has been shipped to an unknown location for immediate analysis and study.

Infuriated by the perfidy of the Collectivity of Sanath, Shamai- always one of the most emotional and headstrong of the Zan- shifted the destruction of Sanath to the very top of his to-do list. Scrapping his plans to retake Koraft, Shamai redirected a vast force against the Arbitration fleet of Admiral Chee Nira Cha. The venerable Nitha Admiral was quick to realize the sheer force that Shamai was delivering with this blow, and immediately contacted his compatriots in Dakar Tash’Kral’s Absolution Fleet and Warmaster Mirugo’s New Branigan Corps, informing them that Shamai’s other fronts would be vulnerable to a breakthrough. However, even with these expected openings, the going against Shamai was brutally difficult. Distant Kurilate took far too long to reinforce, and in a harsh blow, the Kuraib Nau- Tash’Kral’s longstanding flagship and the centerpiece of the guerrilla campaign against Shamai- was cault by Zan Jump Evictors and destroyed with extreme prejudice. The rising presence of these devices was proving to have serious deleterious effects for the Collectivity’s hopes of sustaining a mobile campaign within Shamai’s territory. At any rate, with the famous Kasekral Admiral dead, no forces remained to delay Shamai’s advance towards the Kurilate garrison. As of now, the very first Zan Warmachines have started to enter the inhabited space of the Collectivity.

On the New Branigan front, the combined forces of Warmaster Mirugo, recent successor of Merneg, were beset by a fearsome wave of Zan Craft. Seemingly adapting to the mobile tactics used to such success by the Sanathis, Shamai revealed several new varieties of weapon. A newly-developed, high-maneuverability fighter craft was brought into the battle, to great effect against the masses of heavy-weapons Frigates used by the Branigans. The Warmaster found himself forced into a terribly difficult position- space the ships too closely, and they become vulnerable to the Dirge of Eternity- spread them too far and they become vulnerable to the masses of fighters. Worse still, the Branigan Inteceptors specialized in dealing with such enemies were effectively neutralized by a nasty new trick of Shamai’s. Likened to razor-wire in space or miniature versions of the original Bane of Reality, the ‘Shredders’ fitted onto many of the Zan’s new vessels tore weblike gaps out of the continuum of space, tearing apart small craft and dealing significant damage to any larger ships in the area. No amount of shielding seemed to have an effect against the Shredder fields, which dissociated only when the ships projecting them were destroyed. Thus, New Braniga’s advance has been halted, and pushed back towards Koraft while Mirugo refits his ships to optimally adapt to the new tactical innovations of his enemy.

The prime blow, as expected, was struck against the central front. Chee Nira Cha knew strategically that the only sound choice would be a controlled retreat, and as much as was possible he attempted to do just that. Grav-mining and generally working to make Shamai’s ideal path as unpleasant as possible, he was nonetheless caught quickly by the vastly faster Zan fleet, who were able to use their Shredders to minesweep much of the territory in front of their advancing ships. As it was, Shamai could afford to take minor losses, and the lumbering city-ships which formed the core of the Collectivity Fleet were generally old vessels. While they had been heavily upgraded over the years, their frames and engines could still not sustain particularly strong acceleration or frequent, long-range jumps. Faced with no other choice, the Nitha admiral prepared to do battle with a foe which he felt, even in his most optimistic moods, was impossible to beat with his present forces.

And so was battle made, in some uninhabitable system on the outer fringes of Sanathi space. Five of the Collectivity’s Grandest City Ships, four of whom had been made on Nept itself during the nascence of the Collectivity, a Contingent of Ullau Heavy Cruisers, Thousands of Lance-Class fighters and a whole horde of irregular vessels were brought to bear against the vast Zan fleet, which was composed off a simple, but staggeringly huge array of Zan vessels- a backbone of the old standard warmachines, supported by a huge fighter fleet, and an entirely unfamiliar vessel. This was the successor to the Bane of Existence, a new weapon rebuilt with the same terrible purpose. This was, as Shamai called it, Erratum Effacer.

With the first shots of the battle, Chee Nira Cha detonated his ‘welcome gift’ of the last few mines he’d left in Shamai’s way. Long-range weapons exchanges blasted between the two forces, as the beams of the Zan melted their way through weaker Collectivity vessels, while a varied mass of lasers, missiles and a few wild mag-cannon shots clipped away at the Zan fleet. Lethality ramped up as the Zan barrelled down on the Collectivity at breakneck speed, more and more ships falling on both sides. At last, the big guns were brought into effect. Erratum Effacer fired, and the City Ship Rou was violently ripped out of existence. The heaviest weapons of the City-Ships were levelled against Shamai’s Superweapon, but they were unable to penetrate the literal cloud of fighters blocking the firing lines between the city ships and the Zan flagship. Brief vulnerabilities opened up only when the clouds dispersed, allowing Shamai to take clean shots at the lynchpins of the Collectivity fleet. City Ship Seraph was the second to perish at the Effacer’s hand, thought not before striking a few blows against its foe. Throughout the whole battle, Shamai and Chee were locked in what has been perhaps one of the most perfect tactical duels in known history- both controlled their fleets like puppetmasters with their elabourate marionettes, each utterly dedicated to the battle. At this point, even as the Capital ships performed their deadly dance, the middle-sized workhorses of each fleet were finally beginning finish their battle, as the outnumbered Ullau Heavy Cruisers were slowly crushed beneath the superior numbers and firepower of the Zan fleet. Shredders ran rampant through the fightercraft of the Collectivity, and bit by bit, the previously indomitable Nitha Admiral was pushed back to his last strongholds, the City Ships Vakash, Doctrine and Transcendent Sphere. Vakash was the third to fall to the Effacer, all but the tiniest tip of its engines forever stolen from its native universe. At this point, Chee Nira Cha, having lost the vast majority of his fleet already against impossible odds, prepared to meet his destiny.

Countless Zan Machines descended upon the Transcendent Sphere, ripping their way into the interior. Many were destroyed by the ship’s defences, but it was ultimately overwhelmed. Chee opened fire upon the ship, in what could only be described as a mercy killing, but as if waiting for this exact moment to taunt his defeated Opponent, Shamai assumed direct control over the captured vessel and jumped it out to parts unknown, leaving his broken enemy with no choice but to retreat with the few tattered ships and surviving crewmen that remained. A small solace for the Collectivity was that the sphere’s self-destruct sequence had not been disabled- Shamai’s prize from the battle would be with him for little more than a few seconds after Chee’s departure in the City Ship Doctrine.

The Galactic Republic, struggling to raise an effective defense against the relentless assault of the Zan Kena, has at last sent out a call for aid. The Choon known as The Dreamer called out across the void in a plea for aid, a plea which could be heard by all those who still held a connection to the ancient communications network of the Turamaks. Amongst the vast numbers of the Choon there was a profound indifference. However, the Wera heard. And, as would not be discovered until some time later, the Wera would act.

Kena’s advance had finally brought the elder Zan to the doorstep of Garv’n, the most populous world in the universe, as far as its inhabitants knew, and the capital world of the ‘Galactic’ Republic, which at this point consisted of little more than the capital itself and the old worlds of La’Matra. After years of preparation for this invasion, the death blow to the Republic was about to be dropped. The arrival of two contingents of the Ullau Rogue fleet managed to delay Kena’s advance briefly, but they were swatted away as if they were no more than insects, later regrouping to aid the Republic in its final defense.

And so came the crowning battle of this particularly chaotic period. With numbers that would have made Shamai hide his face in embarrassment, Kena opened fire on the widely-spaced forces of the Galactic Republic and its allies. The Dirge of Eternity, present in the battle, was not yet fired- Kena wanted this prize of an ecumenopolis to be captured intact. The Republic fought like a cornered animal, pushed beyond its limits by a few moments of inspiration from its varied corps- but the heavy pallor of doom weighed heavily in the minds of all defenders. As their numbers were whittled down, plans were already underway to prepare for a retreat, abandoning the jewel of the Republic to its inevitable fate.

It was at this point that the Dreamer’s plea was answered.

With a brilliant flash, a Wera spiralled out from a pinpoint in the center of the Zan flotilla, bathed in pure white light. In the eyes of the Republic, this was nothing less than the return of a furious guardian angel to its forsaken people. A great portal opened where the Wera had passed, and out of it flowed something... HUNGRY.

The Devouring One, who had just enjoyed a rather bizarre journey through a black hole, was pleased- the Wera had not misled. There was much to feed upon here. The Devourer’s terrible maw opened, to the horror of all involved, and immediately began to draw in Kena’s grand fleet. Immediately, Kena’s forces redirected their weapons against the Devourer, carving gaping gaps in the thing’s flanks. As this spectacle unfolded, the Wera, who had slipped out of the way after being upstaged by its guest, raced its way towards Garv’n, its mouth gaping wide. Adulation changed to horror in an instant, as the whole Republic fleet and each of the hundreds of billions of lifeforms on Garv’n watched the titanic mouth of the Wera close over them-

-and then open once again. The Zan were gone... as were the familiar stars around the planet. The dumbfounded planet could only stare as the Wera seemed to wink at the planet, before turning tail and swimming off into the distance.

For Kena’s part, the point-blank battle with the Devouring One was quickly evolving into a rout, forcing the Zan to withdraw from combat, or risk losing the Dirge of Eternity to the monstrosity’s insatiable appetite. Ever pragmatic, Kena chose to live to fight another day- if the creature would prove to be vulnerable to the Dirge, then it would be just as good to learn that fact from a safe distance. The Devouring One thus found itself, in remarkably short order, deprived of all of the food that it had arrived her to consume. Well, almost all. With what would have been a sense of resignation had the Devourer possessed the least modicum of sentience, the beast wandered towards Garv’n’s star, and consumed it. With darkness now settling over the region, the Many have been released, to hunt for their One’s next food item.

While the population around Garv’n struggles to triangulate its new location, the remaining worlds of the Republic, all of them Lauki-dominated, believe that the worst has happened- that the Dirge of Eternity was fired upon Garv’n, resulting in its sudden loss of communications. Two scouts in the area seem to have confirmed this view, revealing the complete absence of Garv’n and its sun, and the presence of some sort of biomechanical monstrosity in the general location of the past battlefield. However, attentions for now remain focused on Kena’s new incoming force, whose arrival time to Republic Space is now estimated at fewer than 50 cycles.

Just beyond the Republic’s antispinward edge, the Utarite Civil War continues to rage unabated. Utterly crippling each other with ever-escalating levels of firepower, the Utarites have been left powerless before the migratory Rama. Ra established itself in orbit around the world of Kutar, and blasted its surface from orbit, in preparation for large-scale mineral extraction. Despite the alien destruction going on all around them, the stubborn and aggressive Utarites seem to have attentions for nothing but each other- and if things don’t change, it seems likely that they’ll bring this conflict with them to the grave.

Map

 
Ooc I assume that the shamai you speak of in the story is not the first (now called father) but the first copy. The first shamai should be in the ocean studying.
 
From: Chee Nira Cha, High Commander of the Collectivity
To: Zan of Kena


You view us with contempt, yes? But see me, I am a little ball of organics in a mass of robotics. I understand you, yes? Superiority from vast distant control. There is evidence evident. That your brother Shamai is growing more of his own. Data files beamed in the direction of your sectors. Creating life.

Your brother is a heretic and a monster. You are also a monster, more distant. We deliver datafiles to prove our point. Naturally, we destroyed the baby Zan we captured, but there are more. Many more.


From: The Collectivity of Sanath
To: New Branigan


Long have we struggled against the menace of Shamai. However, if we continue to pursue our divided strategies, defeat seems inevitable. It is now that we beg you to commence a referendum on Braniga and Koraft, for the purposes of the integration of New Branigan forces into the Collectivity Fleet. For the time being, political integration shall wait on further referendums.

As one of several concessions, we shall ensure that a Warmaster from Braniga shall occupy the Fleet Commander position that now stands empty with the death of Dakar Tash'kral.
 
Draft Report to Seraph Council From Kurilate Experimental Weaponry Division:

Experimental data from the battles at Koraft and Selinnar Rift has proven useful. The deaths of twenty million sentients in combat shall not go unmourned. Zan communications appear to be based on a distributed programming language; the Zan's will is transmitted to capital ships through quantum transceivers, and then filtered through a series of pseudo-autonomous AI programs which execute the trillions of individual movements necessary to carry out large-scale fleet maneuvers, such as the screening tactics seen at Selinnar Rift. Disruption of screening tactics improves allied survival ratios by 43.5% as per most recent battle simulations.

As per Commander Chee's recommendation, we have completed hardened communications systems for use after the deployment of the SYSTEM against the Abomination. The SYSTEM shall likely render all traditional long-range communications inoperative; Fleet communications may also be impacted at sub-ship levels. Predicted effects will likely prove extremely disorienting to the Zan, however. While it is unlikely that we will completely break the Abomination's control over its capital ships, the millions of individual swarm machines shall be more vulnerable to the SYSTEM.

Retrofitting of Doctrine is near completion, with two additional standard cycles necessary for full hardening. All new capital ships are being built or retrofitted with the SYSTEM.

In addition to the deployment of the SYSTEM on all Collectivity Fleet ships above the size of [classified], improved high-power emitters are currently going live on Kurilate with a backlog of several terabytes of waste data and electromagnetic emissions. Charging of batteries has forced several planet-wide blackouts and a complete cessation of civilian electromagnetic usage for a period of [classified]. The likely Zan attack [Shamai behavioral prediction simulations attached] on Kurilate shall prove an excellent opportunity to test both the SYSTEM and the deployment of the waste data. The Abomination's control systems will have to operate through a constant screen of passive and active interference. We certainly hope this aids the defensive effort.

Schematics and precautionary failsafes for the SYSTEM are attached.
 
Ooc I assume that the shamai you speak of in the story is not the first (now called father) but the first copy. The first shamai should be in the ocean studying.
I will be referring to Shamai as the general entity composed of the various clones. However, I imagine that the original Shamai is still doing a lot of work, as a fully-intact new clone still has much to learn, and connecting them into the Zan control structure is a time-consuming process.

From: Chee Nira Cha, High Commander of the Collectivity
To: Zan of Kena


You view us with contempt, yes? But see me, I am a little ball of organics in a mass of robotics. I understand you, yes? Superiority from vast distant control. There is evidence evident. That your brother Shamai is growing more of his own. Data files beamed in the direction of your sectors. Creating life.

Your brother is a heretic and a monster. You are also a monster, more distant. We deliver datafiles to prove our point. Naturally, we destroyed the baby Zan we captured, but there are more. Many more.


From: The Collectivity of Sanath
To: New Branigan


Long have we struggled against the menace of Shamai. However, if we continue to pursue our divided strategies, defeat seems inevitable. It is now that we beg you to commence a referendum on Braniga and Koraft, for the purposes of the integration of New Branigan forces into the Collectivity Fleet. For the time being, political integration shall wait on further referendums.

As one of several concessions, we shall ensure that a Warmaster from Braniga shall occupy the Fleet Commander position that now stands empty with the death of Dakar Tash'kral.

To: Shamai
From: Kena


The Sanathis claim that you have created organic replicas of yourself. Speak Shamai, the Hegemony has afforded you great levity in the past, and we would not like our judgement to be mistaken.

To: Collectivity of Sanath
From: New Braniga


A referendum is underway.
 
ooc - at least one should be alreacy fully connected, and with the network itself streaming information into his mind he should know anything the father shamai knows immediately, that's the whole point of exact replicas :p. They are so exact the Zan network should not even notice they are not actually the real Zan outside perhaps a little echo in Shamai's thoughts.

from Shamai
to Kena
Organic? I don't see why you would believe such a claim. The idea of possessing technology to meddle with things biologic disgusts me. I see the evidence you have provided me. The Sanathi did indeed invade my capital system and have stolen several pieces of information about the Zan's biologic side. There is in the Sanathi a strange political or religious idea that the Zan can be turned if biological copies of them are researched, perhaps those silly Nitha from Sanath that have stolen information stole ancient biological data and used it themselves to create an abomination and blame me.
Would you trust the pitiful race of Sanath, that is dying en mass under my force of robotics and never ending army of researched robotic beasts or your Zan brother? I will welcome you to my empire and capital planet to see for yourself anything that I am doing.
 
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