Multipolarity II - Game Thread

[Tyo]

At this point, code was the only thing this unit knew. Code told it that its name was Vernulus. Code told it what to do, where to go, and most importantly... What to kill. This unit was linked to Systems Squad 41-A. Two units of itself had already been neutralized by the local militia. Resistance was futile, though. The code said so. The code was never wrong.

This unit was with the remaining other three of itself. The code had sent its mission just a nano-second ago, and this unit along with the other three of itself were on the move. On the way to destination, it inquired about the mission. It only took a near-instant what with its already huge processing power, but with the Advanced system version of itself but meters away, this power was greatly modified. Their destination was a village. Small. population less than 50. Light resistance of 10 militia armed with outdated weapons that had a .00008% chance of terminating this unit alone, without assistance of more of itself. Tactical value of location: dismal. Strategic value: small salt field, only enough to keep that single settlement on its feet. Engagement was calculated to be vastly not worth it. This unit was... confused.

The code.... Could not be wrong. Destination was reached. They were just outside the settlement barricade-- if you could call garbage thrown in front of the settlement a barricade. Objective received: Eliminate settlement.

The unit and the other three of itself complied. Bullets from this unit's automatic rifle spat out like death. More than like-- the militia had been irradiated by the four units of itself already. The demolitions unit was launching different kinds of ordnance at housing and other infrastructure around. This uni had an assignment along with the other assault version of itself. Hunt down all of the remaining populace.

It wasn't long before this unit found its first unarmed victim. It trotted about, killing as it went. It grew... uneasy as it killed more. There was no purpose of this slaughter that this unit could see. It was a waste of military assets. It was a waste of this populace. These thoughts computed through this unit's "head" as its body count grew. The village around this unit, by now, was a burning husk. He picked up one more life signal nearby. Lifting up a fallen wooden pallet, he discovered the injured woman cowering below him. The objective once again reminded the unit. Terminate, the code said. But this time, this unit didn't stay quiet. It sent a single word reply back to the source of the code.

"Why?"

An instant later, one more short spray of bullets rang out in the night.

 

[Lighthearter]

The Union sends its condolences and moral support to the American Empire during its period of crisis. In addition to a pledge of non-aggression and formalized propositions for mutual trade, we offer our services in advising the government's current counter-terror initiative.

The honorable Imperial Majesty Taylor I thanks the Chinese Union for its kind words and thoughts, and once again reiterates her assurances that the perpetrators of this foul murder will be brought to justice, no matter what office or status they protest and use as a shield.

We are honored to accept this non-aggression pledge, and indeed affirm the mutual nature of such a promise. We, the sovereign ruler of the Empire, extend to the Chinese Union the offer of a formal mutual defensive pact against the trepidations of aggressive nation-states and terror organizations the world over, in order to better defend ourselves in the event one of us is befallen with another such terrible deed as this. In light of our decision to make this offer, we have also decided to accept your offer of mutual trade, and are in the process of encouraging our major industries to focus business operations in the future on Chinese development and partnership.

We are honored to receive this offer from the Chinese Union toward assistance in the hunt for the Arlington Republicans, and we accept it wholeheartedly and the kind spirit with which it is sent. Your advisers will be listened to and their presence appreciated in the weeks to come, and perhaps both of our peoples can learn from each other.

Her Imperial Majesty, Sovereign Ruler of Imperium and the Lands in Vassalage to Her Throne,
~Empress Taylor I~​

Taylor nodded sharply to the scribe, who finished typing on his tablet and nodded to his sovereign. The Empress, finished dictating, waved the man off to add the proper salutations and closings as befitting correspondence from a woman of her power.

Stavros eyed her, from his position behind the Throne. With the scribe quickly scurrying out, there was a brief moment where he was alone with a few guards and his young liege - his goddaughter.

She didn't even look the same anymore. Her hair was still blonde, her eyes still green . . . but she didn't wear her unofficial uniform anymore. No t-shirt, no jeans or sneakers when her ladies-in-waiting weren't looking. The Empress of the American Empire sat on her throne in a resplendant golden dress and tight corset, a flash of embroidered and gem-studded court heels appearing through the many skirts as the chandelier and fireplaces flickered. Taylor was as as stiff and still as a flagpole on a windless day - she barely seemed to be breathing, and underneath the out-of-character ocean of blush and eyeliner the sixteen-year-old girl wore, her face was expressionless, her eyes distant.

Stavros felt like he should say something . . . but what could he say? The Emperor Timothy had been his friend too, and slowly the big Companion was coming to grips with his own loss. But deep down, he knew it would never compare to his new liege's. Taylor would bear this pain for the rest of her life, and Stavros knew her well enough to be certain that she would hunt down the man responsible for her orphaning - pull the trigger herself if possible.

Taylor was gone, swept away in a thunderbolt by a sudden yank from the chain of mature responsibility. The girl who loved skiing, swimming, antagonizing her cat with a laser pointer, eating powdered donuts on a couch while listening to her father explain some political issue or another, and challenging her guardian to a "friendly" game on her console . . .

She was as dead as her father, and that saddened Stavros even as he acknowledged that young Taylor's death was inevitable and even necessary. The Empire needed strength now, after all.

Taylor half-turned, finally moving. "Send in the Bengalese," she said thinly, visibly struggling to compose herself for another foreign dignitary.

Stavros waved a hand to halt the guard starting for the door. Taylor whirled to glare at him.

"Taylor," Stavros began. "It's been seventy-two hours. You haven't slept. You've barely eaten."

"Not until those monsters are dead," Taylor growled. "Every man, woman and child. I want them hanged, burned, shot . . . or more. I want my father avenged."

"Revenge leads only to more revenge, Taylor," Stavros warned. "Get some sleep. Put off the Bengalese for a night. I'm sure Miss McCoolname will understand. Your father wouldn't have killed himself like this."

"My father is dead," Taylor growled. She turned away. "It would be so easy to just . . . forget that. But I won't. Can't. His memory lives in me, and I will not see him forgotten by his people either."

"Taylor," Stavros said. "He was my friend. My brother, almost - you have to slow down."

"He wasn't your father, Stavros!" Taylor shouted, her eyes flashing. "No matter what else, you're not an orphan without him!"

Stavros took a step back from the blazing fury in his monarch's eyes. The guards around the room traded glances. Slowly, Taylor's wrath seemed to fade and she lowered her head into her hands.

"'m sorry, Stavros," she mumbled. "Wasn't fair of me. Wasn't very regal."

Stavros didn't reply, instead moving around to put a hand on his goddaughter's shoulder. She didn't seem to know whether to throw it off or not.

"Got to be strong," she muttered. "Can't be weak."

"You've done beautifully," Stavros replied. "You're all the stronger a ruler if you know when you need to pause and rest. You're no help to anyone when you're this exhausted."

"Feet hurt," Taylor mumbled. With a deep, shuddering breath, the Empress kicked off her shoes. She looked over at a guard. "Please . . . Lieutenant, inform Ms. McCoolname that I will see her tomorrow afternoon at three-fifteen. My apologies for the delay."

"Of course, my Empress," the guard replied, seeming just as relieved as Stavros felt. These men were all from Emperor Timothy's personal guard, and they knew Taylor almost as well as Stavros did - the Empress could have recited her chosen messenger's name, birthday, and many other facts simply from years in the same circles. The guards were very protective, as the Empress was almost their own child. Of course they were also worried about her - but only Stavros had the personal connection to be able to say anything.

"Hungry," Taylor said absently, standing up. Stavros took her arm.

"I'm sure Cook can whip you up something," he said. "People go out of their way for an Empress. A good, hot meal in you, then a nice rest for the night and you can face the world again. How does that sound?"

"Wonderful," Taylor finally said. "I miss my bed."

Stavros hesitated. Lady Astor, wife of the Foreign Minister, would likely insist on the one . . . tiny living arrangement that the Emperor's death entailed. But Stavros wasn't getting the sense that forcing Taylor to sleep in her father's bed would be a wonderful idea in her current mood.

"Don't worry about that, then," Stavros said - his only words as he led Taylor off to the kitchens. The guards traded relieved smiles that after three straight days, then Empress was finally giving in and taking care of herself.

_

"It's about thirty miles inland," the pilot reported over the radio. "A good distance, but we've got plenty of aircraft and paratroopers, plus the choppers, Captain."

"Understood, pilot. We'll take it down."

Captain Roland Daykin turned back to the men in Roadrunner's CIC. "Alright, gentlemen. Tomorrow night, we rain hell on the Emperor's killers."


-L

 

[Patriotic_Fool]

Who killed the Emperor? Was it roleplay or did it actually happen?

 

[Double A]

No one killed the Emprah, he's still in internment on the Golden Throne.

 

[Lighthearter]

Roleplay, Patriotic Fool In the Olympics update.

-L

 

[NinjaCow64]

"As for the Formatics," Felipe asked.

"Lucille seems like a smart woman. We clearly need to keep them under watch," Dyson laughed. "We can send them on their way once their gods are dealt with. Say what you want about Oz and Katter, they know what to do with gods." Dyson's bombardier blue eyes turned to steel behind the iron frames of his glasses.

Felipe put the book down on the table in front of him. "And what is that?"

Dyson tilted his chin up, "Kill them. The 31st century will be the century of humanity, Felipe."

See? What did we tell you? Genocide.

 

[Sonereal]

You're right. It is genocide when A.) London isn't doing it and B.) The government, in the very RP you just read, saved Formatics in an anti-Formatic riot.

Or did you think we would step in and waste military resources to save Formatics from people trying to hang them from every tree in southern England so we can "kill them all laterlolololo!"

Whatever happened to cease diplomatic ties?

 

[NinjaCow64]

You're right. It is genocide when A.) London isn't doing it and B.) The government, in the very RP you just read, saved Formatics in an anti-Formatic riot.

Hmm...this is odd. Your government's position is strange and confusing. First you say that we should "kill them all" and then you save our citizens. What exactly IS your policy on everything surrounding the Formatting Crew? We need clarification.

 

[Sonereal]

Reread what you quoted.

"Lucille seems like a smart woman. We clearly need to keep them under watch," Dyson laughed. "We can send them on their way once their gods are dealt with. Say what you want about Oz and Katter, they know what to do with gods." Dyson's bombardier blue eyes turned to steel behind the iron frames of his glasses.

Felipe put the book down on the table in front of him. "And what is that?"

Dyson tilted his chin up, "Kill them. The 31st century will be the century of humanity, Felipe."

Clearly talking about Formo Formatica.

 

[Dem Taqat]

Hmm...this is odd. Your government's position is strange and confusing. First you say that we should "kill them all" and then you save our citizens. What exactly IS your policy on everything surrounding the Formatting Crew? We need clarification.

As I understand it, London is against the energy beings (Formatters?) but has little/no quarrel with the humans who support them. (Formatics?) Of course, I may well be wrong, since I kind of skim over a lot of the RP.

DT

 

[Ailedhoo]

The Formatters are intelligent beings. We of Mandatum will welcome them into our myst to aid the great cause.

 

[mayor]

Oz urges researchers to find out what this Myst of Mandatum is and whether or not it's dangerous

 

[Sonereal]

As I understand it, London is against the energy beings (Formatters?) but has little/no quarrel with the humans who support them. (Formatics?) Of course, I may well be wrong, since I kind of skim over a lot of the RP.

DT

Actually, that is exactly what we're saying. That's why we put down the anti-Formatic riots as quickly as we could, but are still against the actual religion and the parasites that run it.

 

[christos200]

Results of Chinese Elections:​

Party | Leader: | Votes | Seats | Votes % Democratic Party |Xinhuan Chiang|3328|40|40. 5 %
Republican Party |Wang Jing|2789|35|37.4%
National Catholic Party |Yi Hon|789|15|14.7%
Communist Party of China |Jung Jiao-long |536|10|7.4%
Total ||7462|100|100%
Invalid ||20||0.9%
Turnout ||7462||89.9%

Note: Each vote = 1,000 votes. I did not wanted to use massive numbers.

The Democratic Party has won the elections and still remains the largest Party, but it has lost almost 10% of it's support, as those votes were given to the National Catholic and Communist Parties.

Unable to create a stable Government (Since the D.P. has only 40 seats and to create a Government a Party needs at least 51), Xinhuan Chiang, leader of the Democratic Party, and Yi Hon, leader of the National Catholic Party, have formed a coalitional Government.

Prime Minister of China is now Su Ngan-xiang, a Chinese Banker. He has the support of the two parties that form the coalition and will lead the country for two years, when elections will happen to decide the party that will rule the Chinese Nation for 4 years.

The Goals of the Coalition are:

1) Destroy the Terrorists.
2) Improve the Economical Situation of China.
3) Improve Foreign relations with the other Chinese States.

Su Ngan-xiang, Prime Minister of China:

 

[Double A]

I like how China has 7500 voters.

 

[Jehoshua]

Katterland is amused that only 7462 voters turned out for the Chinese Election.

 

[christos200]

ooc: In the population stats it says that China has 10.500 population.

 

[Dem Taqat]

The Bengali Republic presumes that the numbers used each represented 10,000, as that is the traditional measure of population.
DT

 

[Jehoshua]

Katterland has invested its vote in its glorious King, Robert Katter, so considering there is only a single vote Katterland was not previously aware of this system of calculating votes by 10'000.

However regardless of this, thats still, in light of Chinese population statistics a questionable number. (never knew china had 70 odd million people)

 

[christos200]

The Bengali Republic presumes that the numbers used each represented 10,000, as that is the traditional measure of population.
DT

That's waht we meant. Sorry for the confusion.