GalaxyNES- No Horizons

Hahah, well, I've been operating the other Zan, and people are always welcome to take one of the multitude of abandoned NPCs our NES possesses- although the trend seems to be that people like creating new species more than they like learning about and taking over someone else's creation- which is fine by me, by the way.

And yes, Shamai is deliciously, megalomaniacally omnicidally nuts. ;)
 
TO: Star-Forest
FROM: Galactic Republic


Our sudden arrival may seem confusing to you. We apologize, however, we are in need of friends in our new neighborhood and would love to invite you over for dinner.
 
"He must be over here."

"I don't sense him. Not even his vibrations. Just that same droning."

"I've got a bad feeling in my bark. We should go back."

"We'll find the guy with the weird vibrations. He's probably the one that caused this whole situation. After that we can get back home. I haven't walked this much since I caught on fire and had to run to the river."

The Dendro gave a brief laugh-signal, and then continued through the forest. It was clear that whoever was giving off the odd vibrations was in a hurry. They were closing in on him, but it would take hours. Despite this titanic amount of work, the searching party finally came within a few yards of the runner.

"Stop, who are you?" The group asked in unison.

The crooked tree-form turned in the mist.

"Do you know where our friend is?" One of the members of the search party asked.

"Friend. Food. Others. Join?" The figure signaled back. It began to slowly inch towards the group.

"Stay back, who are you?"

"Friend. Others join."

The figure broke away from its slow creep, and began an intense sprint[1] towards the party. Before they could react, it had grabbed one of them. It held him close, thrashing him around, ripping off bark in a flurry of strikes. Then, off tendrils emerged from the stranger in a process that didn't look too pleasant for either him, or the Dendro pinned to the ground. The tendril jammed into the Dendro's exposed skin[2], And immediately the stranger broke it off. His victim threw him off, but then shook violently on the ground, and then went still.

The other three members of the search party meanwhile sought to restrain the outsider. While two pinned him to the ground, and mightiest of the three hoisted a rock high into the air, and sent it crashing down on the outsider's roots. Unfortunately, its freakishly dense roots were only chipped and mangled by the numerous stone strikes.

"This is taking too long."

"Just keep holding him. A few more hits and he should be dead."

"Can't we just immobilize him? Do you really think we should kill him?"

"Yes! I've heard tales about some strange Dendro that have been cropping up recently. Probably have some sort of root rot disease or something. We have to kill 'em before they infect the rest of us."

"Join. Friends."

"What?"

A thunderous smack from behind sent all three falling over. The stone-wielder fell atop the stranger, who proceeded to begin to psychotically rip off the bark of his assailant and began to expose his tendrils once more. The other two tried to figure out where the strike had come from.

A second signal?

"Friends. Join. Stop hurting."

Their friend had risen, and now carried two large rocks in his branches. He approached slowly, shaking and occasionally walking backwards, as if he was sapling just learning to walk. The Dendro stood, only to have the stones lobbed at them. One struck the roots, causing the Dendro to die instantly. The other was hit square in the trunk, sending him toppling over. He struggled, throwing his former friend off of him multiple times before finally managing to get his footing.

No sooner did he stand then a tangled of branches restrained him. Two signals behind him. He strained against them, but it was too late. His two friends had turned on him, and another lay there dead. With his last conscious moment, he sent out a warning.

"Prepare for invaders. They are 6 hours from the village. There will be four of them."

He could not hear his own signal though, as the trio around him began droning on and on incessantly. In front of him stood a Dendro who he had grown up with, now slowly peeling back his bark. The pain was unbearable. Finally, the tendrils came out. One loud cracking noise, and it was over. He shook, his attacks letting his body drop to the ground. Within moments he went still, and then rose.

The four continued on in the mist.

-------------------------------------
[1] Light jog in comparison to humans :p
[2] Just the wood beneath the bark. Wanted to avoid wood jokes :rolleyes: . Also, image a Dendro's bark being like our skin, or like a really thick scab. The outer layers don't really have too much feeling, but getting a whole chunk ripped off is painful and quite unpleasant.
 
The One looked deep into the heart of the ancient nebula, what had once been a star system, and would someday be again.

Only a supernova, in this universe, could create what the One sought and even then it would take trillions of them. The One knew nothing of its own origins, but it must have taken billions of years to assemble him, pieced together one atom at a time by creatures that would seem as gods to the entities that filled this infantile universe.

The One “reached” out its infinite power pulling on the tiny particle which it sought and could feel in the nebula. The One’s intentions were transmitted to the Many and they swarmed forth in the trillions to escort the tiny magnetic particle into the protective field. The Many carefully nudged the single particle of the volatile substance into the location the One had transmitted to them.

There it sat, utterly inert along with the others that the One had began to collect.

Such power the One had never known, the desire to feed was forgotten as the One expended only the energy it had absorbed, it collected more energy as it moved through the vastness of space, and it sought the particles.

Single minded as only the One could be it could feel them calling from the far dark reaches and from the bright centers. The One could only do as it had always done, and heed the call.
 
Apologies this took so long. Coming up next, a story about the Enrae, and the beauty of Naellae in general. Featuring Zan Kara and her mother.

To: Collectivity
From: Self


If you desire union then why are Collectivity Selves separated? Should all Selves not be connected?

Self is curious about these "stars" you are from. Self wishes to know more.

We are connected through structures. These structures include language, democracy, and culture. But there are countless others. We value the independence of separate minds within these structures, however.

Stars are giant balls of burning gas. Many of them have habitable planets, and it is on these planets which the sentients of the Collectivity live.
 
From: Self
To: Collectivity


This is still strange to Self, Self would like to witness all this.
 
Marikihi stood quite still for a moment, looking at Peri. Then she turned back to the younger Fehan. “Oira, how far out are they?”

“Less than five minutes.”

Marikihi's eyes closed briefly, then she opened them again and became a blur of activity. “We'll have to evacuate immediately. Oira, see to it that all of the devices are thoroughly secured in the evacuation shuttle. Rama, prepare the defenses; remember that I don't want to see anyone die – anyone at all. You just have to delay them sufficiently.” She paused, considering Peri. “Go with Rama. I gather that these are not your friends. Help us fight them off and I might trust you a little further.”

Peri waved her snout in assent, and joined the rest of the Fehan as they began to fan out into the root-like warrens of the bunker's lower levels. Even in the hubbub, Peri could not help but notice the rooms full of equipment that they passed – and how efficiently the little band packed them away. Clearly they'd been expecting some kind of attack for a long while. As they began to climb the tunnels, various objects were already being removed from the base.

They had to flatten against the wall as a massive machine passed in the other direction, a tremendous array of what looked like lasers. “What's that?” Peri asked Rama, scuttling quickly to keep up with the long stride of the other Fehan.

“Stasi – ” Rama realized who she was talking to a heartbeat too late. “None of your business.” Peri's snout curled a little.

Before Peri could speculate or even prompt her for a little more, they had already arrived in the upper levels of the warren, where a number of Fehan stood, watching Rama, and, with curious looks, Peri.

“We're under attack,” Rama began, crisply. “Shuttlecraft from one of the factions on Helan, most likely. The good thing is, this strike doesn't come from the Fleet, so it won't be supported. The bad thing is, they still quite probably outnumber us heavily. But we don't have to hold them off indefinitely. All you need to do is hold the line long enough for Marikihi and the others to slip away, then we can begin a withdrawal of our own.” Then she began to rattle off specific instructions to her followers. Peri was impressed – they'd managed quite a lot of discipline and cohesiveness for an unofficial and quite likely majority Anarchist band.

“And you,” Rama said, pointing a paw at Peri, “Will be coming with me.”

“You trust me that much?” Peri asked.

“You misunderstand me. I don't trust you that much. If I trusted you at all, I'd give you some unimportant assignment, out of the way. This way, I'll be able to keep an eye on you.”

“If you say so,” Peri said, dubiously. “What's your assignment, then, general?”

“To command, of course.” She led Peri to yet another room, this one a dazzling array of video feeds and holographic projections, all apparently monitoring the approaches to the base, and the descent of the enemy shuttles. Rama already began to make adjustments in her deployment – adjustments Peri quickly noticed were more from the commander's jitters than tactical weaknesses.

The enemy seemed well-trained, Peri noted. Probably old Fleet retirees, looking to make some money: they came to the outer edge of their weapons and suddenly dipped out of sight, skimming the surface to avoid the worst of the bunker's defenses. The maneuvers had a claustrophobic feeling to them; neither side had particularly potent weapons here. A real Fleet force would have torn any of them to shreds in seconds.

Automated defenses began to kick in, and one of the shuttles fell from the sky, its wings trimmed neatly from its body before it shattered against the hilly terrain. The bulk of their forces avoided them, however, and set down beyond a ridge.

“I hope your new friends don't realize when Marikihi is out. They'll blow the whole damn bunker up if they don't think she's here.”

Rama made a noncommittal noise and directed artillery fire to where she figured the enemy must have landed; even through the base's hardening, Peri could hear the faint thumps of their discharges.

Seconds later, a line of bots topped the ridge and began to charge the base; Peri almost cried at their lack of tactical sophistication. But then, the bunker's defenses were impotent as well; a few of the devices exploded under their attacks, but more streamed through and closed in on the bunker proper. Mechanical devices pried at the outer shell of the fortification, and quite suddenly Rama's face took on a panicked color. “They're in the base,” she said unhelpfully into her headset. “They're in the base.”

Disgusted, Peri grabbed her communicator.

“Positions 3 through 6, 3 through 6, drop down to the lower levels and secure the chokes. 1, drop back, they're right on top of you. 2, drop, support them as they withdraw. 7, 8, you still have a great angle of fire on the enemy advance. Aim for the ones that are already at the bunker; they're sending out the soldiers; they'll be the softest targets.” Beside her, Rama simply stared, but Peri ignored her as she continued to give instructions. The positions were numbered quite simply, like spokes on a wheel, and even if it wasn't space combat, she had no problem visualizing it.

“Looks like they'll try forcing through your position, 1, get ready to fight.” The facility was practically part of her; detecting the enemy and planning against them was trivial. “Good work so far. Looks like they're focusing on that breach and one more near you, 4... 3, lend support. 5, help 1, 6, help 4.”

And so the dance continued. The enemy plunged from their little speeders down into the tunnels of the bunker, where darkness and ferocious defenders greeted them with gunfire. Though Marikihi's Fehan made a good account of themselves, they were hardly a military force, and for all the unity they'd displayed earlier, they could not hope to do more than delay the inevitable. The Thiran forces worked their way deeper and deeper into the tunnels, though Peri could not help but view with grim satisfaction the mounting piles of bodies that scattered the –

“Peri!”

“What!?” Peri snapped, unable to ignore Rama's persistent tugging any longer.

“The Thirans, they'll be on us any second now!”

Peri looked over at the hatch. “It's a door of reinforced carbon ceramics. They'll take a while to get through.”

Sure enough, it was mere moments before they could hear thumping and a grinding noise from the other side. Rama drew a gun and held it steady with her snout. Peri ignored both these distractions, and continued to direct her little groups, sending them through the warrens, relentlessly harassing their foe and using the twists and turns against them. It was only a matter of time now; Marikihi was doubtless away, and Peri could give the order to retreat at any moment –

The door gave a great shudder, and even as Peri told them to fall back to the shuttles, she launched herself up the wall as a group of four Fehan burst in, spraying gunfire with reckless abandon and breaking the bright displays instantly. Rama made a good footsoldier, taking cover in a nook in the wall, poking her gun out and taking out a couple of the foe before they knew there was a defender in the room.

Peri ran with the sure-footed climbing of a Fehan, up and around, and even as the Thirans focused on Rama's more obvious attack, she dropped on them from above, kicking one of the Fehan with a carefully placed chop to the base of the tail and slamming her braincase onto the floor. Peri wrestled the dazed Fehan to the ground, slammed her out cold with a butt of her tail, and stole her gun in a smooth flurry of movement; by the time the rest of the Thirans realized what was happening, she'd already put a bullet through one of their tails.

One of the other two screeched loudly, and tried to shoot Peri, who dodged to one side and rolled over to bring her gun to bear again; another three bullet burst and she fell to the floor. The last Thiran, confused, seemed unsure of which Fehan to attack or avoid, and Peri slammed the barrel of her gun against her braincase, knocking her supine.

As quick as that, the little party was scattered on the floor, in varying degrees of unwakeability.

Peri acknowledged Rama's astonished stare with a twirl of her snout. “They'll realize Marikihi's out, Rama. Practically nothing's left in the base already. Come on! Move!”

And so Rama followed.



Previous Story in Arc
 
The Great Symbol of the Collectivity of Sanath.

zwDlU.jpg
 
The Wera's Minds wandered through times that could be and might be but for the flip of a flipper or the drifting of a Mind's concentration; today was one of those days because deep in the back of the Wera's mind, in a section that had long since stopped being relevant, Biological Functions woke up. Now Biological Functions hadn't had much to do for the past billion years, not since, well, biological functions had ceased and Biological Function had been made redundant. Sure the other Minds sometimes stopped in his swanky neurological apartments and said hello! but that was getting rarer and rarer now. Only Wicked Humour and Forgotten Minds visited him regularly now. He was pretty sure that Wicked Humour only did it because Biological Functions amused him. A floating neural anus might have that effect, Biological Functions supposed. And Forgotten Minds well it was part of his job to keep and eye on the waifs and strays, even if he did seem to visit more than he should.

But back to Biological Functions day. Biological Functions had woken early, the neural relapses were quiet just a million-million Minds racing along the neural path nearest to his abode. An improvement over the million-million-million Minds that raced alone it during a busy period or the million-million-million-million that raced along it during war - but that had been a long time ago when Biological Functions still had a job. Out of habit Biological Functions checked his screens: nothing. No surprise, The Mind had stopped needing its biological parts a long time ago. Switching screens to the backups he looked again. Nothing. His working day over Biological Functions lay back in the air and with the trembling of his spectral sphincter propelled himself forward in one great towards his reading chair.

Sadly the trip would be in vain because just as he had finished the manoeuvre one he had been practicing now for a long time - perfect control he thought was something to aim for - a little bleep could be heard. Thinking nothing of it he prepared his final approach jetting gas out of his backside in controlled bursts. He never got to finish because just as he was about to make brain-fall a klaxon sounded. Mid-air he turned, spiralling on the spectral gas, and gassed himself towards the console. Tapping the screen rapidly with his mind he bought up the problem: a blockage in Section 8. Biological Functions sat puzzled. There was no Section 8, not that he could remember at least. But even as he looked he noticed that the klaxon blaring had a certain musicality to it: bur-bur-bur-blar-blar-blar-bur-bur-bur repeated again and again. Biological Functions freaked.

*

The Hedge fleets now entering its... unknown... period of imprisonment had finally managed to hook itself into the Wera's system. Granted it was through the bowels but the team (now a couple of generations removed from the original and horribly inbreed to boot) hoped that it could at least in theory, maybe never, make an outside call... before the inbreeding killed them all.

*

Well it didn't work. Instead of the outside line the silly hedgehogs had tapped into the internal lines. This was what had caused Biological Functions panic. Sadly Biological Functions didn't speak stupid and the Hedgehogs (smart for mortals) didn't speak intelligent. What followed was a hilarious exchange as Biological Functions called his buddy Wicked Humour who only managed to crack inappropriate jokes. Left with no-one else to go to Biological Functions was forced to contact Forgotten Minds his 'friend'-cum-jailer-cum-handler.

Forgotten Minds didn't freak when he was contacted. In fact he was elated. He thought that Biological Functions had finally lost it. He was disappointed to say the least when he found out that his least favourite prisoner was still sane and that he had a serious mystery on his hands. Forgotten Minds wasn't in the least bit interested however his mind couldn't spend more than a few fractions of the smallest-time-unit-available-to-most-'civilised-species away from his job. But in that time he exchanged details with his friend-prisoner Unknown Things who like Biological Functions was without a job until now.

In the time it took for Unknown Things to arrive and for him to open up channels with his former colleagues - Esoteric Knowledge, Things Obscure and Those Things That Should Be Remembered But Are Often Forgotten In The Tumult Of Modern Life (TSRFTML) - the hedgehogs hadn't even managed to make a second tappity-tapa. TSRFTML drawing on his obscure resources had a fair idea of what was being said: help. With a further dredge of his memory he came upon the most likely culprit: an inadvertent swallowing.

TSRFTML raised the matter with his circle and it was swiftly decided that the appropriate response was a forced (survivable) ejection into friendly space. The problem now went from ??? to figuring out how to tell the hedgehogs of the plans now afoot so they could hopefully prepare to survive them and to let navigation know what was going on. Navigation was promptly told of the situation and made a quick adjustment to its headings ripping a hole in reality large enough to dive through... the Hedgehogs on the other hand, well, that was going to take a while... a long while. Maybe a week. A lifetime really...

*

NAVLOGS: DESTINATION GALATIC REPUBLIC
MISSION: A THOROUGH ENEMA
 
What horrors lie beyond the horizon? At the edges of our vision, in the heart of Zan territory. Darkness and factories cooperate in the evilest fashion, concocting weapons beyond our imaginations, causing sufferings as only a cold, calculating machine could. No longer, thought the Maus, shall these unnatural beings exist in the same realm as they. No matter the corruption of their ideology, no matter the personal sufferings and harm to characters, victory stood above it all as a star, shining down the healthy beams of energy that every Maus strives to climb for.

From the darkness of deep space, on a wave stretched space, the Ma'Autran fleet arrived with great speed towards the dimmed world of Gau. Former forests had fallen, replaced by cities of the Republic, but they too were in ruins under the hegemony of Kena. Atmospheric anomalies caused by massive pollution from machine factories caused swirling storms with power that never faded. Lighting strikes on a purple and gray backdrop gave light to what the world was now, a shell of its' former natural beauty, corrupted by the Betrayer.

As a thousand ships passed the outer planetary bodies by, seeing the wreckage and destruction in the wake of the Zan war, the crews prayed their mothers were leading them down the correct path. A sudden jolt smashed the ships on the flanks, Zan drones by the millions had remained hidden until the right moment and jumped forth from cover like a preying lion. The kinetic energy from such a sudden mass of drones caused several ships to rupture and explode, but the Maus commanded on, into the breach. Returning fire they headed for Gau, some ships splitting off in formations to deal with the increasing numbers of Zan drones. The skies above Gau became ablaze with explosions and high energy weaponry, Rax in the new mecha dominated the drones by the thousands. Wounded ships and mecha alike regained strength through nanofabricator repairs, taking materials as fast as they could from the downed Zan drones to patch Ma'Autran weaponry.

As the fleet approached faster and faster, nearing their target, the lead ships opened their massive front oriented beam weaponry. Intended for orbital bombardment, these would be used to clear a landing sight on Gau of Zan machines. In a brilliant display of power, brighter than the star Gau orbited, a series of beams fired towards the planet. Piercing the atmosphere and the smog with such speed and power as to cause the momentary shifting of the clouds above the target. A massive series of explosions rocked Gau to the bedrock, glassing a gigantic region on the surface, a suitable landing zone if ever there was one.

The thousand ships were never intending to land, they were far too large for such an endeavor, thus they carried many thousands more smaller vessels for that purpose. Like a firework the carrier ships pushed the landing crafts out in all directions, like all Maus weaponry, this too was planned as an elegant display of nature. There was little concern of the Zan understanding the blossoming shapes that the landing vessels formed as they left the mother ships, but who really cares what the enemy thinks when you know you look cool?

Of course resistance was intense, drones from the surface flew up to mangle and isolate the landing vessels as large ground to air weaponry fired in a stunning display of mechanized uniformity. The ships made it through, mostly unharmed by Kena's defenses, while the sister ships in space were fighting on a much more even playing field and casualties were already in the millions. From these landing vessels sprang forth swarms of armed Lauki soldiers of both breeds, Rax in their mecha and even Fudirunin suicide bombers who killed in an utmost adorable way. Million of warriors of all different races and breeds spewed onto Gau, machine and organics collided in brutal hand to hand warfare.

Fed up with their lives of rooted command the Maus had developed yet another secret weapon to fight Kena, branching off of the technology behind the Rax piloted mecha. From orbit several dozen more crafts burned bright in the atmosphere, firing thrusters to slow the decent of the massive pods and finally peeling open in the same blossoming effect as the rest of the fleet. Smashing at high speed into the still scorching hot rock, these massive mecha landed with a resounding thud. Tossing embers of red hot rock into the air while cracking the glass soils underneath their gigantic bipedal legs. Bright lights flickered on as the machines powered up, bringing into view the reinforced, yet mostly opaque, domed cockpits, revealing the pilots within. On grassy knolls stationed at the core of these colossal machines sat a singular mature Maus, in full bloom, with the buddings of future fruit to come.

The eerie glow of springtime growth encapsulated by a world of colorless industry.

And then hell was unleashed...
 
Ohh... So where is the update? Should I really write about Shamai feeling time moves a bit slow?
 
You could definitely write about Shamai's odd perception of time. Update's almost done, and I'm no longer spending all of my time visiting relatives, so I should be able to power out the rest of the update soon. :D
 
The Tale of Tau'Ma: Part 1

“Ha ha ha, yes!” The deep taunting laugh of a Rax caught my earholes. “Come at me Betrayer!” The sound of his polearm, sending the hum of its' radiating energy tips all the way to me. I choked on the smog and smoke of war on this Zan occupied world.

A sudden thud, the sound of Rax weaponry on the cold, metallic frames of Kena's drone. I peered over some rubble to get a closer look. In the distance the fires of war raged, the skies sporadically lit by the energy weapons of our fleet and air support. The Rax fought solo against his adversary, a drone over five times his size, but that wasn't breaking his ego. Talented beasts, the Rax, but stupid and overly aggressive. I can see why they are Mother's favorites.

A howling hiss from the Zan drone sent a shudder down my spine. Its' spiny limbs gripped the terrain, sharp enough to cut solid metal, strong enough to smash stone and still fast enough to run down even our swiftest vehicles. This Rax is too thickheaded, he cannot see he has lost even when it stares into his eyes. I'd have to help him take down this threat. So I slivered my way through the hazy remains of Republican cities, eying my surroundings for the sign of enemy reinforcements. A sudden smell hit me, a message from a nearby Maus, propaganda mostly.

“VICTORY IS AT HAND CHILDREN”

The sounds of the gigantic Maus machines stomping about were deafening, hell was being raised on the opposing side of all these downed buildings. I approached the Rax, slowly, from behind, I could ill afford to frighten him or disrupt his trance. He sparred elegantly with the massive drone, popping all the spiny fingers that stabbed at him.

“Is that all you've got KENA!? Ha ha ha, pathetic!”

Such taunting behavior was not something I would have suggested, especially not to a being that commands every foe on the planet. A soft whisper into his mind would suffice.

~ ~ I am here, comrade. A little longer and I shall aid you in defeating this monster. ~ ~

I received but a grunt of thought in return, typical. Enough to work with, but this one is particularly proud of his warrior attributes. Raising my arms I poured out the pheromone commands that would assist this soldier in a wave of colors that only my eyes can see. Surrounding his body and infiltrating his nostrils, his stance immediately changed and his mind perked.

~ ~ We are linked, brother, you now know what to do. ~ ~

The red eyes of the drone shifted towards me. Kena knows of my work, of my breed and our powers. Kena knows who to kill first. The drone lunged forward, razor sharp legs gathered in a cluster just for me, but it was not meant to be. The Rax's reaction time, his logic, all empowered by my pheromones, by my link with his mind. He laughed and roared as he attacked the underbelly of the Drone, knocking it off its course and causing momentary instability in its movements. His attack was unrelenting, dodging the counter attacks with ease, he moved like a cloth in the wind. High on the kill. A jab through the heart of the massive drone sent unknown dark liquids into the air, splattering us both as the red eye faded.

The Rax roared a long roar, empowered by his victory even further, he raised his weapon into the air.

And then...silence. Our link broken by a sharp pain, his body fell limp and his weapon deactivated as he released it. In a sudden movement his corpse was tossed aside, revealing the red eye of Kena.

I was alone.
 
The great host marched around the Grand Parade, a cyclopean circle set around a large pedestal, outer edge hemmed with grand stands, upon which innumerous multitudes swarmed, cheers and hoots and bizarre calls and chants, alien music playing from countless instruments.

At least, that was how Tark Rier figured it would be described by some observer. In truth, the parade area was huge, and like so many things that had to do with the Shu-Ghoo were becoming, seeming wider them the space between the stands and the pedestal. The stands themselves were also massive, but the crowd was only inmumerous to someone who didn’t know that the stands held around 350,000, depending on the species make-up. Their were tens of thousands of soldiers in the Parade, though, of even species in the Protection, even Flying Shadows and Umbra floating aimlessly overhead, doing... whatever it was they did mst of the time.

The young Urthrial would be among the first to admit that he had little understanding of what was happening anymore, but that was probably for the best. When it came to things like objects and building having far more interior than volume, or things like the Flying Shadows and Umbra appearing to have more than the same three dimensions he did, Tark figured that ignorance was just fine. He didn’t want to end up gibbering like those unfortunate Shu’Ghoo that hadn’t taken the awakening well... especially since that that would require some probably painful body-modifications.

In any event, the hundreds of thousands of soldiers in this Parade alone we all marching in lockstep, an unconscious movement that seemed to designed to produce and rhythmic stomping, only slightly broken by the Shu’Ghoo and Raviath who needed to roll/slither do to a natural lack of legs and of whom most banged limbs or appendages to the beat, or the multi-legged Querex and Endrghu, as well as those Tarieks’Waygeir that were unused to bipedal locomotion. The sound of the feet was mixing oddly with the music and chants now that Tark thought about it, and was before he knew what he was doing he was joining in the chants.

Few a minutes passed, then there was a break in the music, just enough for the voice of officers and NCOs across the parade to issue commands, in several languages, to the effect of “Halt and face centre.” Tark stopped walking and faced the podium, but kept the stomping and chanting.

It was moments later when the new sound issue from the pedestal, like a horn or a string instrument, deep, with many odd frequencies. Tark felt the rythm and music swell and change, and for a instant had the most peculiar sensations. Then the sound rolled out again, and when ended abruptly, there was silence- Tark even realised he had one foot hanging in the air and the next word to the chant lodged in his throat, however he made no attempt to continue, instead silently swallowed the words and lowed his foot. For a long moment, he could see nothing, then something began to change on the pedestal.

At first, it looked like a standard Volumetric Display, then it seemed as real as he was... then it became realer, and the indistinct form on it began to seem somewhat disturbing.

Wow, Tark thought, this is really starting to seem really oblong.

The Allentryen beside Tark whistled quietly and leaned closer. “That things looking pretty eldritch.”

“Just what I was thinking.” Tark whispered back.

A second later, the thing on the pedestal, which Tark was realising, was looking increasingly familiar without changing, spoke.

It said: Greetings, all. For those who do not know me, I am the Parent. I have watched and cared for you all, even those who are not the Children, for so many years. I have waited for Aeons, waiting for the penalties of the Others to expire, so that we may awaken and regain our place in Reality, and beyond!

The short pause, nearly averyone in attendance cheered, or made their species equivalent. Tark, however, noticed something vagly disturbing: The Flying Shadows and Umbra had stopped moving, and appeared to be staring at the thing on the pedestal. He had never seen one of them show attention to something they weren’t attacking, let alone so many.

The Parent continued: We have waited so long, and the age of Gods, Angels and Demons have ended. Few of the Old Ones remain, and most have degenerated, becoming lost in the world and dreaming. As consequence, we cannot get our retribution for past misdeeds against us. However, it also means little to truly threaten us!

More cheers, this time Tark joining in.

The Parent continued: There are those in this age who claim themselves gods. Let them be tested by gods of gods, and if worthy, than reality will again witness the warring Wrath of Gods!

The cheers we stronger this time, the note of finality striking strong. As such it was a suprise when the voice spoke again a moment latter, this time without the some tones and resonances, and like an actor switching from stage to normal voice.

It said: Excellent, that what I’ll use! Although, maybe Aeons in wrong. What about Eras, or maybe Epochs? It more accurate, if less impressive. Any ways, when are we doing this?

A different voice from the pedestal said: We just did.

The Parent said: Ahh, what? No we didn’t. That was a rehearsal.

A third voice said: No dear, that was it. Were still transmiting, in fact.
The second voice said: And now your ruining the effect. Thank you so, much Mister High and Mighty.

Tark glanced at the Allentryen, who shrugged.

The Parent said: Watchman, you better watch out, or so help me, will call down on you like a ton of bricks the Doct-.

The third voice said: Gentlman! Please! Parent, just say something to finish to the dear little mortals, ok, hun?

The Parent said: ... - ... . !- ... umm... . -... .

The second voice said: Oh for heavens sake.

The Parent said: Yeah, thank yooouuuu Shay’Wheeiiiirrrreeeee! Whoo! Good night, Rock on! Yeeaahhh!

A long moment of silence passed, then the second voice said: What in the flaming-.

The third voice said: Hush! It will have to do.

The figure on the pedestal vanished.

Several minutes, nobody moved, or said anything. Even the inscrutable Flying Shadows and Umbra seemed confused. Then, without anybody saying anything, the crowd started to dissipate and the soldiers began moving silently towars they embarkation areas.

And Tark thought; Huh, so those are who created the Shu’Ghoo. No wonder their mad.
 
Here is a little excerpt from my sketchbook, detailing the appearance of an organic Zan, with a Navartine as well for a bonus. ;)

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Update 21

These were the final days of the Zan Shamai. Over the course of a millennium, he had gone from a minor Zan in an underdeveloped arm of the galaxy with naught but a single system to his name, to a civilization-felling, Wera-slaying terror. A bright light of the Hegemony, an active innovator in a race of stagnant, dogmatic machine-encased nervous systems with god complexes. But somewhere along the line, Shamai had lost his way. Perhaps it was his sympathy (of a sort) for organic life, or his willingness to challenge the concept that the Zan were not yet perfect. Even as he crafted the Bane of Reality, the greatest weapon to be created by a Zan since the Cataclysm and the only known tool capable of dealing significant damage to a Wera, Shamai remained a black sheep amongst the Zan, who tolerated his heresy only in exchange for its practical side effects. With the axe of Kena always held threateningly close to his metaphorical neck, Shamai lost none of his recklessness, delving further into the taboo by recreating the original Zan species in the form of clones of himself. Even as he wrestled with the underlying nature of the universe itself alongside the Ocean Family, Shamai sought to uncover the darkest secret of his species, the origin of the Cataclysm which had first destroyed the Zan Empire so many hundreds of thousands of years ago.

Whatever the cause we prefer to focus on, Shamai at this point had become a pariah to all those around him, and even his own clones were beginning to seem questionable. Indeed, it was growing increasingly difficult to tell who was even in charge of the gestalt known as ‘Shamai’ at this point- Kena herself suspected that the original Shamai was dead at this point, a prediction that would later turn out to be more accurate than not. Meanwhile, the forces of Fplinmy, Sanath, and Kena were all focused almost exclusively on his destruction. It was considered by some a sign of the severity of Shamai’s transgressions that the Zan Kena was willing to cooperate with the Collectivity in order to bring him down, although many other theories exist to explain the nature of that unexpected pact- a misunderstanding of the nature and motivations of the Zan, or perhaps the Zan’s positive view of the entity ‘Chee’, who had ascended to a state of cybernetic nigh-omniscience by this point. Regardless of the causes, the conventional odds were stacked very steeply against Shamai.

An early addition to the forces arrayed against the fallen Zan was the arrival of ‘Zem’, the Zan Elimination Machine. The last creation of one of the many races to have been wiped out by the Zan, Zem was a ramshackle piece of very advanced technology which arrived rather suddenly above the Collectivity’s origin-world of Nept, with various pieces of wreckage and a few Wera in tow. One of these Wera promptly expelled a small colony of heavily-inbred Verthommes, who had been trapped in its interior for a good number of centuries. Immediately drawing attention away from the beginnings of the first proper recolonization efforts on the planet since its devastation by interspecies war over a millennium ago, Zem proceeded to return a few pieces of ships previously destroyed by Shamai’s reality-warping weaponry, make several boisterious boasts against the former Zan, and then joined into the massive advance against Shamai’s core stars.

The Association of Fplinmy, for reasons of its own, had begun to stir from its apparent lethargy when the lifecycle of one of their massive Yjogl steeds had come to an end. This explosive event prompted the commencement of a vast migration. Yplein across the association began to follow the corpse of their stricken comrade, which led its fellows towards a convergence over the world of Shamai. The disturbances of the moving Yjogl have had radical effects on the recently-abandoned systems. Kurilate has experienced severe increases in the intensity of its sunlight, as well as a marked increase in tectonic and volcanic activity across its surface. Elsewhere, the Kog’Vlad experience a year of many bizarre celestial phenomena, their observatories spotting many inexplicable bursts of light as the migration passed by their isolated homeworld.

Shu-Ghoo had watched with interest and concern as the conflict surrounding Shamai had escalated. However, they chose to remain aloof of the conflict, instead taking time to learn of their past, the circumstances of their ‘awakening’, and the decidedly odd nature of ‘Parent’, the entity or collection of entities responsible for their return to the galactic stage.

The Galactic Republic’s remnants, or at least those scattered between the two colossal nebulae known as the Pillars, have made a most bizarre alliance with the returning forces of Ma’Autra, the Eternal Union. The majority of the Republic’s population on its one remaining world of Uex is Lauki, which further complicates this relationship. However, despite generations of unexpressed ill-will between the insectoid Lauki and their erstwhile masters, the towering Maus, the threat of annihilation by Zan Kena is enough to push almost all concerns to the wayside, and thus does Ma’Autra live again. Of course, this ‘alliance’ is really quite a bit more one-sided than the citizens of the former Republic would like to believe, but they continue to contribute greatly to the war effort regardless.

Upon Au’tuc’s reunification with her erstwhile children… and their associated companions, the reformed Ma’Autra immediately launched a vicious counterattack on Gau. Rapidly combining Maus biotechnology, energy weapons and materials with the Republic’s nanofabricators, conventional weapons and superior drive systems, the revived Union rapidly began to churn out an odd assortment of new weapons- powerful hybrid space vessels, and a broad variety of combat mechs crafted to put Ma’Autra’s infantry on par with the drones of Zan Kena. Striking with unexpected and tremendous force on a small front, Ma’Autra liberated one of its old worlds from the corrupting hands of the defiler. Seeking now to undo the damages of years of Zan industrialization and centuries of the crude environmental disregard of the Galactic Republic, Au’tuc works to find a balance between restoring things as they should be, and not getting entirely annihilated by Zan Kena as soon as she can direct her full attention against Ma’Autra.

Antispinwards from this war, another old conflict burns down to its pitiful conclusion. The Utarite Combine and Alliance continue their evenly matched duel to the death, each dealing progressively more crippling blows to each other. Signals from their remaining worlds become more and more faint and infrequent, before entirely disappearing as the all-consuming mining fleets of Ra continue their slow, inevitable approach to Utar-Prime.

Meanwhile, the other disjointed half of the Galactic Republic has come into contact with a very distant relative of the Maus. In their quest to acquire more agricultural worlds to feed the massive city-planet of Garv’n, settlers have expanded to two more planets, establishing colonies on the worlds known to the Star-Forest as Pinnatisect and Falcate. The Galactic Republic has worked to establish contact with the Star-Forest, but has experienced limited success. Attempts to speak via Verthommes have proven fruitless- it turns out that being vaguely plant-like does not grant one the ability to speak to all plants. Ultimately, the communications barrier has been broken by the Forest, where the Mouths of the Dendro came to learn the language of the settlers, and thus began to sing in the language of their visitors. On Pinnatisect, they compose ballads of welcome, and request peace and mutual coexistence. However, on Falcate, the Mouths sing little of joy- rather, their haunting dirges and terrified cries herald the coming of the end times for their kind, and the rise of the Root of Barat.

Far divorced from the apocalyptic combat around Shamai, a much smaller war was waged between the trees. Spreading from their volcanic home planets back into their species’ origin worlds, the powerful, violent and mentally damaged Feral Dendros wage a steady war of subversion and extermination against the Star-Forest, ultimately pushing back the lesser plants, who possess no real defense against these brutish giants.

The first contact between Self and Sanath passed in a fairly straightforward. Self, who had long been without outside stimulation, was extremely interested by the idea of existences beyond its own, and has since struck up a lively banter with the Ullau and Nitha explorers now surveying its region of space. Nearby, a colony named ‘Aellan’ has been founded, becoming one of the most far-flung settlements of the Collectivity yet to be established. Around this new region, several ships of alien origin have been sensed, but first contact has not yet been breached.

The fall of Shamai came in the form of a formidable assault across a colossal, and nigh-indefensible stretch of space. Kena, Executioner of the Zan, found herself doing the bulk of the fighting. Descending further into apparent madness and incoherence, Shamai hurled threats at his onetime ally. Kena was undeterred, but deeply troubled by his ravings about his mastery of all sorts of bizarre, physics-breaking techniques, with which he promised to undo the universe. As her vast fleets ploughed into those of Shamai, the elder Zan even considered that Shamai might be deliberately goading her into murdering him. Motivations for such an act continued to trouble Kena throughout the campaign.

The first great battles raged in the space that had once held the Zaff Dominion. Kena’s most vicious blows were directed against Wairt and Glare. At Wairt, Zan fought Zan. Such combat was something unheard of by the native civilizations of known space, and the battle occurred too far away from any non-Zan systems to be observed. What is known is that Shamai suffered bitter losses, and several times was the Dirge of Eternity fired. Smaller fleets were dispatched to Tapani and Nuxue. Only the latter provided significant resistance eradicating the first of Kena’s forces before reinforcements from the battle at Morav arrived to finish off all obvious resistance and establish Kena’s dominance over the system.

At Wairt, the Warmaster Mirugo led his forces against the formidable garrison of Shamai. SYSTEM was applied once again to great effect, leading to the elimination of Shamai’s starfaring forces in the region. It was only a short while thereafter that a horrendously large fleet of the Zan Kena’s vessels passed through the very same system. Contented to see that Shamai was all but exterminated here, the warmachines passed by silently and without communication. On the planet’s surface, a ferocious battle was fought between isolated pockets of Shamai’s combat drones and the mechanized forces of the Collectivity’s New Branigan corps. It had been centuries since this world’s Branigan garrison had fallen to the Zan Shamai, and now it seemed only fitting that the defeated force’s direct successor should oust Shamai from the glassed Zaff homeworld. The battle raged for several weeks, claiming many of the Collectivity’s forces including the Warmaster himself, but in the end Shamai was decidedly ousted from yet another world. Mirugo was afforded a grand sendoff for his glorious death in battle, and the Branigan’s successor has been determined, the Navartine Warmaster Huuluudof.

While Huuluudof regrouped his forces and the increasingly godlike Chee directed a probing push into the interior of Shamai’s space, Kena’s massive fleet utterly annihilated Shamai’s defences at Glare, further ruining what was already a devastated planet.

In the rimward edge of the front, Admiral Dashtek Savarash found himself in command of a tremendous fleet, encompassing several city ships and full range of standard Collectivity vessels, accompanied by a migrating Yjogl with a full contingent of Yplein, the robotic entity ‘Zem’, and the two mature Choon known as the Dancer and the Traveler. While Admiral Savarash was decidedly untrusting of the both Zan Elimination Machine, which had almost instantaneously traveled from Nept to join with his fleet, and the silent forces of Fplinmy- not to mention the unaligned Choon which seemed to simply be following the Dancer- he recognized that he held little sway over what such massive and powerful entities wished to do, and resolved to make the best of the situation. At any rate, he knew that he’d need all the forces he could muster in order to make this critical strike towards the heart of Shamai himself.

Some hundred light years out of Kurilate, battle was made. Smaller craft raced up to the battlefront while the larger craft, fearing the might of Shamai’s Erratum Effacer, chose to hang back. The Yjogl, spurred on by its Yplein escort, continued to barrel its way forward, and became the latest victim of Shamai’s superweapon. A horrible collective scream resonated through the minds of Admiral Savarash’s forces, the howl of the Yplein whose ancient home had been torn away from them. In a fury, the previously passive beings hurled themselves against Shamai’s fleet. While insignificant in scale when compared to the vessels that they duelled, the psychic abilities of the Yplein dealt horrendous damage to Shamai’s fleet, effectively jamming its communications much like they had done during the Zan’s fateful assault against Fplinmy so many centuries ago. Zem followed shortly behind the Yjogl. The robotic vessel, flanked by a group of Ullau Heavy Cruisers, charged into the center of Shamai’s formation, evidently unafraid of erasure from existence at the hands of the Effacer.

Admiral Savarash continued directing the battle, with a great deal of help from Chee. Of course, Admiral Chee Nira Cha was quite heavily involved in every battle of the Collectivity at this point, but this battle in particular held the interest of the old admiral’s tactical sense. Nonetheless, throughout the fight Savarash maintained a keen analytical eye on the actions of Shamai’s forces. The chatter of the Yplein, while almost maddening to most of the organic lifeforms within range, was indeed an effective tool against the Zan, but there seemed to be more than simple jamming going on here. Shamai’s command now was clearly different from that observed in the past- his actions were disjointed and poorly reasoned. The Zan, or ex-Zan as the case may be, seemed to be puppeteering his fleets with conflicting sets of orders, advancing and withdrawing without clear cause and failing to consistently apply the tactics which had used to such deadly effect in the past.

Applying SYSTEM liberally, Savarash was able to decimate many of Shamai’s forces with reduced damage to his own. One firing of the gravitic weapon even seemed to damage Erratum Effacer, for after taking one poorly-aimed shot which cut the City-Ship N-Dimensional Construct in half, the superweapon fired no more. The demise of Erratum Effacer has also been argued to have been caused by the lack of fighter screens like those seen in the First Battle of Kurilate, allowing Sanathi heavy weapons fire to repeatedly strike the massive Zan vessel. At any rate, Admiral Savarash had tasted weakness, and was quick to punish it. Main Battle Groups of Heavy Cruisers began their advance in earnest, and the Choon, their frames now augmented with the latest in Sanathi weaponry, plunged forth into the fray. Casualties mounted heavily as the battle reached close quarters, but it was clear that Shamai was outmatched. In what might have been a weak attempt at self-preservation, Erratum Effacer turned and began to attempt a retreat, but at this point in the battle the superweapon had simply sustained too much damage to maneuver quickly and defend itself. As Zamai’s ace card floundered, the Collectivity closed in. The Dancer made contact with the Vessel, beginning to rend the superstructure apart, swarms of Yplein tore into its damaged regions, and heavy conventional artillery continued to tear the machine apart, until at last Erratum Effacer’s lights died out, the entirety of the ship disintegrating into several colossal pieces of wreckage.

The remnants of Shamai’s fleet, which had stayed in the heart of the battle in order to win time for the ill-fated Erratum Effacer, were mopped up shortly thereafter. Rapidly continuing their advance, the Kasekral Admiral directed his remaining fleet past minimal resistance into the homeworld of Shamai himself. However, upon arrival in the system, there was no Zan to be found-indeed, for some time there was no sign of any life whatsoever, nothing but the cold, mechanical rhythm of a Zan factory world. Fears of a trap remained even when a satellite filled with a few barely living, and many recently deceased, clones of Shamai were discovered. Zem took the liberty of wiping out the remnants of the clone colony with its bioweapons before proceeding to start glassing the surface, before being stopped by an irate Admiral Savarash, who was growing quite tired of what he perceived as a self-important machine acting outside of his directions. Coming to an agreement, the combined allied forces bombarded Shamai together, devastating all of the major developed clusters on the surface. Plans to actually scour the surface are in place, but Savarash’s fleet remains too thinly stretched to effectively perform such an operation.

As it is, Shamai has been devastated. The Zan’s power base has been crushed, and the lack of direction in his fleets implies that the small mass of nervous tissue that commanded the Zan Shamai Empire may already be dead. However, no body has been found, and concerns are already shifting towards newer issues, such as the ongoing presence of Kena’s superfleets in the region, and the hyperenthusiastic readiness of Zem to go to war with Kena. While such a course of action is frowned upon by many, the Navartines, who make up a significant portion of the forces of the former New Branigan nation, are a sticking point. Navart, their sacred homeworld, and the living god of their religion, remains under the rule of the Zan Kena, who callously glassed the world over 300 years ago. As such, support for assertive actions towards Shamai is particularly high in their demographic.

The Fehan have annexed their vassal state, the Democratic Federation of Akari. The act was done quite quickly and with limited warning, and the transition has been bumpy, to say the least. While many Akaris look upon the annexation as a union or merger, and look forward to the economic opportunities that come with increased integration and partnership, others have expressed very strong misgivings towards the idea of giving up further autonomy to an alien species with a very alien way of looking at… well, just about everything. While demonstrations, protests and disobedience have taken place on Zephyr, in Dalikah the situation is somewhat more unstable. Karronics, already resentful of their lowered status and near-xenocide at the hands of the Fehan, are declaring the annexation to be a violation of the terms of their surrender. Many Karronics have taken up arms, demanding that the Fehan Fleet reverses their decision. The fleet itself has been swift and brutal in putting down the insurrections, threatening a repeat of Catifah should the Karronics not surrender their weapons. Many sites have been purged of opposition, but resentment is simmering and several sites have yet to be pacified.

Elsewhere, exploratory probes have bridged the vast void between the arms, discovering a region of increased gas density and stars, nearly two thousand light years away from the homeworld of Helan.

The rough world of Taki has seen a great deal of activity. The pursuit of a scientist of great interest has drawn agents of the fleet into unprecedented conflict with Thira, one of the major nations of Helan. This happens in a backdrop of civil unrest, as anarchists and various other illegals overthrow a minor unpopular governor on the planet. Fleet was willing to turn a blind eye as long as there was no disruption- surprisingly enough, there was none. Nevertheless, numerous figures have responded with alarm, warning about the potential negative consequences of budging an inch for the anarchist mobsters and hooligans. At any rate, increased focus of resources elsewhere, coupled with the inexplicable silence of the Mejani, has led to a rather dramatic reduction in contact with the spinward species. Few have noticed.

In the dark of space, the Many stir. The Devouring One is gone from their world, off pursuing far greater things in a realm locked away to them. The Many thus begin to coalesce, following an instinct that follows in the absence of the One for direction. The small biomechanical beetles merge and grow, beginning to construct a familiar shape. Slowly, a new One is forming. In time, it too shall be driven to consume, and the cycle shall play out once more.

*****

Shamai cackled madly. His mastery of the Cataclysm Virus had laid low his enemies. All civilization standing in opposition to him was swiftly annihilated, the fools of the Zan Hegemony were gone forever. Never more would their foolish dogma constrain him. Shamai, adding constantly more clones of himself to his neural network, was increasing exponentially in intelligence with every moment. Time began to lose its meaning as his thoughts accelerated, theorems and ideas blasting through his mind at unimaginable speeds. Shamai billowed and burgeoned, the galaxy regressing into a tiny toy, cowering in horror and devotion towards none but him. On a whim, too fast to have been a thought, Shamai whisked it out of existence. Omniscience and omnipotence in the present were old hat, Shamai reached back through to the dawn of creation and shaped the universe as he saw fit, annihilating whole realities without effort. The laws of the universe became meaningless as he rewrote them over and over, stretching an eternity across time and space. At last, he was everything. Everything was Shamai. The Universe was him, the ultimate power of everything and nothingness. The Universe aged instantly in a second, fading into a cinder. The laughter of the overgod persisted, creating itself again, and the cycle repeated.

Quietly, two figures from the Ocean Family watched as the pathetic being that had once been Zan Shamai twitched and gibbered, forever trapped in an illusion of its own creation. In one view, he lived in a masturbatory power fantasy where the whole universe was his whim. In another, he was a powerless and blind ruin of an organism, comatose in a slowly-degrading space station orbiting above Nuxue B. Shamai’s divorce from reality had been gradual, perhaps an escalation of his madness, his genius. The Ocean Family had been happy to push this along, slowly altering that which he saw, constantly building upon this until the Zan’s disconnect was complete. He had fixated so much on the virus in his past that it had been a ‘simple’ matter to add in the sensation of an understanding of the reality-altering illusory powers of the Ocean Family, and the gradual fulfilment of all of Shamai’s wildest dreams.

“He was fascinating.”

“He shall be happy in there.”

“He would be unhappy to realize the illusion.”

“He will never know.”

“The tapestry shall carry on.”

Map

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OOC: A few quotes to coda that (excellent) update and serve as a lead-in to the material of my story.

---

“Our mighty parent, father of our race, has become one with knowledge. Taking the form of a mighty angel, he did battle with the Abomination on the plane of thought, and cast him from this universe to the abyss below. Let us praise and invent in his name. Hail Saint Chee!”

-Trai Nali Pratan, Planetary Representative of La to the Protocol Council

---

“Beyond OUR knowledge, and the knowledge of the Seraph Council, the entity known as Chee Nira Cha has usurped absolute power. He has made a dark pact with the twin of the Abomination, this Kena. Authoritative accounts from Ullau refugees lead us to believe that this entity has destroyed or occupied as many OR MORE worlds than Shamai, killing countless billions! This AI entity “Chee” has taken control of our military, our economy, and now uses our Collectivity as a game piece in some grand interstellar bargain with this new Nemesis. I move for the IMMEDIATE dismissal of Admiral Chee Nira Cha and his replacement as First Commander with Admiral Dashtek Savarash.“

*disorder, lasting for several minutes, disjointed shouting*

-Transcript, Address of High Lord Nakrat Valtash to the Protocol Council

---

“All wars are but skirmishes in the war against war.”

-Qii’ve’nar Taishev, The Doctrine Collective
 
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