Blaze Injun
Night Radio KYSE
- Joined
- Feb 3, 2005
- Messages
- 4,918
Hey,
Reporting in.
Blaze Injun
Reporting in.
Blaze Injun
Picking up the Pieces
- Thread starter SKILORD
- Start date
Eltain
Deity
That was bestrcfplayer.
Words hurt.
Words hurt.
Eltain
Deity
Well. I seem like a jerk now 
SKILORD
Insurgent
[Rafiki Files Database. Re-education Camp Tyzdron. Outgoing messages of Medical Supervisor Shenzi. Earth Date: January 4th 2013.]
[Authentication Confirmed.]
-
Yes, I agree with you that long term use of mind control rays to change social and cultural attitudes is more art than science. One has only to look at the generally mixed results it has had with regards to some of our feline companions [Rafikie Files Darabase: The Nalese are a recent addition to the Rafiki horde, known for poor temperament and difficulties with integration]. These docking accidents which you’ve mentioned, perhaps they are some sort of unforeseen side effect. Anatomy, as you know, is variable and can be the source of many unpredictable reactions.
Which brings us to the matter I contacted you about originally; Subject 96573. In his case the human biology seems to have had extremely strange side effects.
Not to mention the insanity, it is impossible to talk to the man, even with the assistance of the rays. But this is not my main concern, insanity is a shockingly common reaction in the case of humans.
It does not pertain to the biology of this species, but has more to do with their extremely particular psychology. This can be see in the political structure of these beings. They affiliate with a large number of separate regional organizations with a broad diversity of political practices. What I mean to say is that it is not that mind control rays drive humans insane, the problem is that, as their self serving and short sighted social structures reflect, humans are already quite insane.
The absence of the Circle [Rafiki Files Database: The Circle is the dominant galactic religion, focused on unity and reincarnation. The Rafiki converted before the war with the Puumon and stopped raiding missionary craft over one hundred and fifty years ago] is also conspicuous. With regards to a species with this level of technology it would be customary for the missionaries to have arrived, as they had for the other species we have encountered, where the one true faith was already prominent. Because of this absence, humans identify strongly with regional religious traditions.
In no event is there any centralization, where most species of the horde affiliated themselves strongly with family units and through that a broader collective affiliation with the brothers of their species as a whole. I have already begun to discuss the broad number of often conflicting loyalties that humans were subject to. These beings frequently fought wars that were rarely, in comparison to wars fought on other planets, conclusive. According to the books that we have recovered; in the last century, despite multiple so called “World Wars” [Rafiki Files Database: Greatly exaggerated recent human conflict] no state managed to extend direct political control over their rivals. Armies marched into capitals and then, I swear to you, marched back out and let the very conquered people to run their own affairs. It is as though the practice of war was a game to them, and they conceived a large number of bizarre rules regarding conduct, seemingly designed to perpetuate regional conflict by preventing the strong social groups from succeeding in creating a political hegemony.
This insanity, I hope, elucidates my situation with the patient. He defends these things, he has some sort of encyclopedic knowledge of these inane human and Rafiki affairs as though he had constant access to both our networks and the human ones, which brings us to his peculiar biological reaction. He seems to be strangely aware of radio waves, he has been caught accessing our uplinks from his cell. He has also opened his door and jammed electronic locks in our facility. At present we have been holding his wife and children at a location that has been kept well clear of computer records. Threats to her have seemed effective in moderating his behavior, but with much further use of the mind control he might lose his sanity enough to disregard those threats. In fact considering the already unsettling side effects I am reluctant to use the rays on him.
Not to cast aspersions on this species or this war, he is the only case of this type I have heard of after a great deal of consultation with other supervisors at the other camps.
But this man is dangerous, I am equally reluctant to have him shipped off world. I value this patient as an extremely valuable specimen, but I do seek your council regarding how long of a timeframe I should be looking at with regards to performing live experiments versus the actual autoposy which is inevitable, but which would also terminate a very valuable subject.
He is dangerous though, and that makes his life a security matter, one which I must consult your opinion on. I would also like to ask for some reinforcements to maintain our security, we have intercepted some attempts on the patients part to contact outside groups. Although the message was strangely coherent the fact that it was intercepted while the patient slept was quite unsettling.
Which of course makes him very valuable, if we can break down his lunatic psychology and turn him to productive causes he could be very important. But again, we are playing with fire and I eagerly await your orders on this matter.
<3
Shenzi [Rafiki Files Database: Medical Supervisor of Re-education Camp Tyzdron]
-
The Wanderer shakes his head. Strange thoughts, out of nowhere, old emails between vanquished fools, but somehow they seem strangely familiar, the whole story, but he doesn’t know what that is about. He grabs his head, yes, a clear hole in the tinfoil that must be fixed. Stop these strangely haunting stories from infecting his head.
Enough of the past, what past? Smoldering ruins are not a heritage.
The future seems interesting enough, he takes off the helmet to fix the coverage.
At once he can see it all, students in Brazil, elite paramilitary groups in the states, even a Bonaparte, he can see all the rogue radio waves.
The wanderer shakes his head as he seals the tinfoil hat back on his head, a Bonaparte? Did he see a Bonaparte? Those aliens must have driven him completely insane.
He pushes the horse on further, his shadow goes out far ahead of him.
On his arm, indelibly scarred, he can read the Rafiki numbers 96573.
-
EDIT: Added a bit about NPC's in the pre-thread.
[Authentication Confirmed.]
-
Yes, I agree with you that long term use of mind control rays to change social and cultural attitudes is more art than science. One has only to look at the generally mixed results it has had with regards to some of our feline companions [Rafikie Files Darabase: The Nalese are a recent addition to the Rafiki horde, known for poor temperament and difficulties with integration]. These docking accidents which you’ve mentioned, perhaps they are some sort of unforeseen side effect. Anatomy, as you know, is variable and can be the source of many unpredictable reactions.
Which brings us to the matter I contacted you about originally; Subject 96573. In his case the human biology seems to have had extremely strange side effects.
Not to mention the insanity, it is impossible to talk to the man, even with the assistance of the rays. But this is not my main concern, insanity is a shockingly common reaction in the case of humans.
It does not pertain to the biology of this species, but has more to do with their extremely particular psychology. This can be see in the political structure of these beings. They affiliate with a large number of separate regional organizations with a broad diversity of political practices. What I mean to say is that it is not that mind control rays drive humans insane, the problem is that, as their self serving and short sighted social structures reflect, humans are already quite insane.
The absence of the Circle [Rafiki Files Database: The Circle is the dominant galactic religion, focused on unity and reincarnation. The Rafiki converted before the war with the Puumon and stopped raiding missionary craft over one hundred and fifty years ago] is also conspicuous. With regards to a species with this level of technology it would be customary for the missionaries to have arrived, as they had for the other species we have encountered, where the one true faith was already prominent. Because of this absence, humans identify strongly with regional religious traditions.
In no event is there any centralization, where most species of the horde affiliated themselves strongly with family units and through that a broader collective affiliation with the brothers of their species as a whole. I have already begun to discuss the broad number of often conflicting loyalties that humans were subject to. These beings frequently fought wars that were rarely, in comparison to wars fought on other planets, conclusive. According to the books that we have recovered; in the last century, despite multiple so called “World Wars” [Rafiki Files Database: Greatly exaggerated recent human conflict] no state managed to extend direct political control over their rivals. Armies marched into capitals and then, I swear to you, marched back out and let the very conquered people to run their own affairs. It is as though the practice of war was a game to them, and they conceived a large number of bizarre rules regarding conduct, seemingly designed to perpetuate regional conflict by preventing the strong social groups from succeeding in creating a political hegemony.
This insanity, I hope, elucidates my situation with the patient. He defends these things, he has some sort of encyclopedic knowledge of these inane human and Rafiki affairs as though he had constant access to both our networks and the human ones, which brings us to his peculiar biological reaction. He seems to be strangely aware of radio waves, he has been caught accessing our uplinks from his cell. He has also opened his door and jammed electronic locks in our facility. At present we have been holding his wife and children at a location that has been kept well clear of computer records. Threats to her have seemed effective in moderating his behavior, but with much further use of the mind control he might lose his sanity enough to disregard those threats. In fact considering the already unsettling side effects I am reluctant to use the rays on him.
Not to cast aspersions on this species or this war, he is the only case of this type I have heard of after a great deal of consultation with other supervisors at the other camps.
But this man is dangerous, I am equally reluctant to have him shipped off world. I value this patient as an extremely valuable specimen, but I do seek your council regarding how long of a timeframe I should be looking at with regards to performing live experiments versus the actual autoposy which is inevitable, but which would also terminate a very valuable subject.
He is dangerous though, and that makes his life a security matter, one which I must consult your opinion on. I would also like to ask for some reinforcements to maintain our security, we have intercepted some attempts on the patients part to contact outside groups. Although the message was strangely coherent the fact that it was intercepted while the patient slept was quite unsettling.
Which of course makes him very valuable, if we can break down his lunatic psychology and turn him to productive causes he could be very important. But again, we are playing with fire and I eagerly await your orders on this matter.
<3
Shenzi [Rafiki Files Database: Medical Supervisor of Re-education Camp Tyzdron]
-
The Wanderer shakes his head. Strange thoughts, out of nowhere, old emails between vanquished fools, but somehow they seem strangely familiar, the whole story, but he doesn’t know what that is about. He grabs his head, yes, a clear hole in the tinfoil that must be fixed. Stop these strangely haunting stories from infecting his head.
Enough of the past, what past? Smoldering ruins are not a heritage.
The future seems interesting enough, he takes off the helmet to fix the coverage.
At once he can see it all, students in Brazil, elite paramilitary groups in the states, even a Bonaparte, he can see all the rogue radio waves.
The wanderer shakes his head as he seals the tinfoil hat back on his head, a Bonaparte? Did he see a Bonaparte? Those aliens must have driven him completely insane.
He pushes the horse on further, his shadow goes out far ahead of him.
On his arm, indelibly scarred, he can read the Rafiki numbers 96573.
-
EDIT: Added a bit about NPC's in the pre-thread.
Freemanuncg
Warlord
Holy crap that was an awesome story iggy
Freemanuncg
Warlord
The dust had settled when the doors of the fighter crafts began to iris open.
When all the doors had opened the first furry head poked out and looked around.
Disembark came Colonel Simfasas voice through their headsets.
As one, 83 Nalese leapt from the raised doors of their fighters, and landed safely on the soft grass.
They milled around the Colonel waiting to receive orders from their venerated commander. Several of the elite pilots sat back to rest on their haunches and began to lick the dust from their arms.
Once the purring and grumbling over who would stand where subsided Simfasa began to speak. Well done my valiant friends, our lost brothers will never be forgotten he paused for a bit of polite purring of accent from the troops. However, we must make for ourselves a home here and try to live as best we can. Our scanners showed vast plains and verdant life for hundreds of units around us and no human settlements in the immediate area.
It is not for us to question your decisions commander, but how will we eat? asked a decorated pilot.
We shall hunt in the fashion of our ancestors my friends. Said Simfasa we shall prosper here, and soon we shall .
Simfasa broke off in mid sentence, his furry jaw hanging open as he stared over the heads of the crowd of pilots assembled around him.
The heads of the Nalese turned as one to see what had drawn the attention of their commander. An intruder had come close to the crowd of Nalese and they sprung to attention before the commanders voice called out Hold my friends; we shall treat with this creature.
The invader hopped forward, towards the strange new sight, and Colonel Simfasa moved forward towards the creature which was obviously mammalian but unknown to him. Simfasa adjusted the universal translator in his earpiece to scan for speech patterns in the creature.
Earth creature, we come in peace. Said the Colonel. We only seek to peacefully coexist and perhaps we can teach you many things.
The creature looked at him and made no reply.
Can you communicate with us Earth Creature?
The Creature cocked its head to the side, and still it made no reply.
It seems that this creature is not intelligent, Simfasa said to his troops. Three hundred and thirty two sets of, razor sharp, retractable claws sprang out as the pilots realized what this meant. This creature is
Prey
When all the doors had opened the first furry head poked out and looked around.
Disembark came Colonel Simfasas voice through their headsets.
As one, 83 Nalese leapt from the raised doors of their fighters, and landed safely on the soft grass.
They milled around the Colonel waiting to receive orders from their venerated commander. Several of the elite pilots sat back to rest on their haunches and began to lick the dust from their arms.
Once the purring and grumbling over who would stand where subsided Simfasa began to speak. Well done my valiant friends, our lost brothers will never be forgotten he paused for a bit of polite purring of accent from the troops. However, we must make for ourselves a home here and try to live as best we can. Our scanners showed vast plains and verdant life for hundreds of units around us and no human settlements in the immediate area.
It is not for us to question your decisions commander, but how will we eat? asked a decorated pilot.
We shall hunt in the fashion of our ancestors my friends. Said Simfasa we shall prosper here, and soon we shall .
Simfasa broke off in mid sentence, his furry jaw hanging open as he stared over the heads of the crowd of pilots assembled around him.
The heads of the Nalese turned as one to see what had drawn the attention of their commander. An intruder had come close to the crowd of Nalese and they sprung to attention before the commanders voice called out Hold my friends; we shall treat with this creature.
The invader hopped forward, towards the strange new sight, and Colonel Simfasa moved forward towards the creature which was obviously mammalian but unknown to him. Simfasa adjusted the universal translator in his earpiece to scan for speech patterns in the creature.
Earth creature, we come in peace. Said the Colonel. We only seek to peacefully coexist and perhaps we can teach you many things.
The creature looked at him and made no reply.
Can you communicate with us Earth Creature?
The Creature cocked its head to the side, and still it made no reply.
It seems that this creature is not intelligent, Simfasa said to his troops. Three hundred and thirty two sets of, razor sharp, retractable claws sprang out as the pilots realized what this meant. This creature is
Prey
SKILORD
Insurgent
Nifty, at present I'm hoping to have the first actual update posted on Saturday, if that seems too soon for you then please let me know. After that it should be updated on nonconsecutive Saturdays.
thomas.berubeg
Wandering the World
Do you want orders?
SKILORD
Insurgent
It would help.
You can post them in the thread or PM them to me, I basically need to know how you intend to spend your economy and where you want to try to find salvage (not that that has to be too specific).
EDIT @thomas, your orders are fine so don't worry about it,
but for other people if you are interested there is an outline of what I'm looking for in your orders on the first post of this thread at the bottom.
You can post them in the thread or PM them to me, I basically need to know how you intend to spend your economy and where you want to try to find salvage (not that that has to be too specific).
EDIT @thomas, your orders are fine so don't worry about it,
but for other people if you are interested there is an outline of what I'm looking for in your orders on the first post of this thread at the bottom.
Blaze Injun
Night Radio KYSE
- Joined
- Feb 3, 2005
- Messages
- 4,918
Hey,
The Yankee Suns have sent orders.
Blaze Injun
The Yankee Suns have sent orders.
Blaze Injun
The Descent to Earth
Tsierik-Lufor Khaz-Dio gripped firmly onto the command console as the Scafiri began to rattle, buffeted by the planet's thin exosphere.
"Helmsman."
"Yes Wing Commander?"
"How are the ship's controls holding out?"
"Functioning."
The Tourliski considered for a moment, then turned.
"Systems Officer, shunt all power to maneuvering jets and safety systems. Cut out all other systems."
"Already done."
"Helmsman, hold us in a helical descent pattern to bleed off speed. Navigation, find us a flat landing site."
The ship was now rattling very violently. The stars were fading into the thin blue sky now, and the rocky brown world beneath them beckoned, endless rows of mountains stretching from horizon to horizon.
Tense seconds passed, as the Scafiri passed into the upper atmosphere.
"Navigation! Do you have a location?"
A nervous looking younger officer looked to Tsierik, quickly shifting his glance between the wing commander and his own superior, who was deeply focused on his scans of the planet.
"We've got nothing ideal here, we're right over one of the planet's primary mountain ranges."
The speaker's superior officer took this moment to interject. "There is one spot that should be within our range. We think there may be something of a landing site near to the water body, and that's all we've got."
Tsierik looked down at the scans, and out the window. A large, black body of water loomed below. A frown flashed across his faces. A water landing might be safer, but it could very well drown the surviving crew and leave the critical equipment within the Scafiri unreachable. A dry landing presented a greater chance of immediate death, but if the carrier remained intact, then it would be much more salvageable. Better to risk immediate death than to survive, stranded and without supplies on this hellish planet.
"Helmsman, can you bring us down at that site? Aim for the flat areas around the edges of that crater lake."
A tense nod of affirmation was the only response Tsierik received. The crew fell silent as their lives fell into the hands of their helmsman. There was nothing more that could be done, as the Scafiri screamed in a broad helix through the atmosphere. Temperature in the bridge began to rise noticeably, as small pieces of the crippled vessel sheared off on the sides. Below, the surface grew ever closer, the dramatic vertical relief in its topography now becoming visible.
"Bringing it in for a final run now Commander." the Helmsman grimaced, firing off a maneuvering jet to level the tilting vessel, straightening it from a helical descent to a straight run at the surface."
"Good. Deploy the impact gel now."
Nothing happened. Clearly, Tsierik noted, it was one of the many disabled or crippled systems which were left non-functional during a crash. Wasting no time to rage at a very poor design decision, the Tourliski amended his command.
"Hold onto something solid!"
The helmsman fired the forward maneuvering jets, throwing the front end of the Scafiri upwards, dramatically increasing the ship's aerodynamic profile. For an instant, victory seemed that the ship would land safely.
Then, the ship began to slip towards a backwards tumble. Overcorrecting, the helmsman fired a second set of jets, pushing the ship's front back down. The screaming metal of the Scafiri was deafening. Almost there. More jets fired, leveling ou tthe rear and pushing it upwards, to prevent the ship from sailing out past the narrow strip of land extending into the lake and into the water.
The rear of the vessel contacted first into the downward slope of a hill, a tremendous crash rendered inaudible by the sheer mass of white noise drowning the Scafiri. Maintaining his steely control, the helmsman fired one more blast from the front jets, preventing the fore of the vessel from coming crashing down instantly. Instead, it came down in the course of a little over two seconds while the stern dragged along the ground, a fatal impact transforming into a mere violent impact.
Vodies flew all over, screas lost in the din of the destruction. The crew could only hold onto whatever they had entrusted their lives to, awaiting an end to the chaos.
The Scafiri rattled with a force that none of the Tourliski had ever even imagined could exist, as the downed vessel ripped its way through the earthen hillside.
Then, as a few seconds passed, the movement slowly came to a stop.
For the first time since the beginning of the descent, there was no noise but the alarms, which at last were audible once more.
Weakly, some of the crew let out a cheer. The sounds of other voices, crying out in pain, mixed in. Wing Commander Tsierik-Lufor Khaz-Dio removed his death grip from the command console, looking around. Through the blastproof windows, which were somehow still intact, a small amount of natural light streamed into the darkened room.
The crew, or at least a portion of it, remained alive. Now came the real challenge- surviving on this rock, and getting the force back into space.
Tsierik-Lufor Khaz-Dio gripped firmly onto the command console as the Scafiri began to rattle, buffeted by the planet's thin exosphere.
"Helmsman."
"Yes Wing Commander?"
"How are the ship's controls holding out?"
"Functioning."
The Tourliski considered for a moment, then turned.
"Systems Officer, shunt all power to maneuvering jets and safety systems. Cut out all other systems."
"Already done."
"Helmsman, hold us in a helical descent pattern to bleed off speed. Navigation, find us a flat landing site."
The ship was now rattling very violently. The stars were fading into the thin blue sky now, and the rocky brown world beneath them beckoned, endless rows of mountains stretching from horizon to horizon.
Tense seconds passed, as the Scafiri passed into the upper atmosphere.
"Navigation! Do you have a location?"
A nervous looking younger officer looked to Tsierik, quickly shifting his glance between the wing commander and his own superior, who was deeply focused on his scans of the planet.
"We've got nothing ideal here, we're right over one of the planet's primary mountain ranges."
The speaker's superior officer took this moment to interject. "There is one spot that should be within our range. We think there may be something of a landing site near to the water body, and that's all we've got."
Tsierik looked down at the scans, and out the window. A large, black body of water loomed below. A frown flashed across his faces. A water landing might be safer, but it could very well drown the surviving crew and leave the critical equipment within the Scafiri unreachable. A dry landing presented a greater chance of immediate death, but if the carrier remained intact, then it would be much more salvageable. Better to risk immediate death than to survive, stranded and without supplies on this hellish planet.
"Helmsman, can you bring us down at that site? Aim for the flat areas around the edges of that crater lake."
A tense nod of affirmation was the only response Tsierik received. The crew fell silent as their lives fell into the hands of their helmsman. There was nothing more that could be done, as the Scafiri screamed in a broad helix through the atmosphere. Temperature in the bridge began to rise noticeably, as small pieces of the crippled vessel sheared off on the sides. Below, the surface grew ever closer, the dramatic vertical relief in its topography now becoming visible.
"Bringing it in for a final run now Commander." the Helmsman grimaced, firing off a maneuvering jet to level the tilting vessel, straightening it from a helical descent to a straight run at the surface."
"Good. Deploy the impact gel now."
Nothing happened. Clearly, Tsierik noted, it was one of the many disabled or crippled systems which were left non-functional during a crash. Wasting no time to rage at a very poor design decision, the Tourliski amended his command.
"Hold onto something solid!"
The helmsman fired the forward maneuvering jets, throwing the front end of the Scafiri upwards, dramatically increasing the ship's aerodynamic profile. For an instant, victory seemed that the ship would land safely.
Then, the ship began to slip towards a backwards tumble. Overcorrecting, the helmsman fired a second set of jets, pushing the ship's front back down. The screaming metal of the Scafiri was deafening. Almost there. More jets fired, leveling ou tthe rear and pushing it upwards, to prevent the ship from sailing out past the narrow strip of land extending into the lake and into the water.
The rear of the vessel contacted first into the downward slope of a hill, a tremendous crash rendered inaudible by the sheer mass of white noise drowning the Scafiri. Maintaining his steely control, the helmsman fired one more blast from the front jets, preventing the fore of the vessel from coming crashing down instantly. Instead, it came down in the course of a little over two seconds while the stern dragged along the ground, a fatal impact transforming into a mere violent impact.
Vodies flew all over, screas lost in the din of the destruction. The crew could only hold onto whatever they had entrusted their lives to, awaiting an end to the chaos.
The Scafiri rattled with a force that none of the Tourliski had ever even imagined could exist, as the downed vessel ripped its way through the earthen hillside.
Then, as a few seconds passed, the movement slowly came to a stop.
For the first time since the beginning of the descent, there was no noise but the alarms, which at last were audible once more.
Weakly, some of the crew let out a cheer. The sounds of other voices, crying out in pain, mixed in. Wing Commander Tsierik-Lufor Khaz-Dio removed his death grip from the command console, looking around. Through the blastproof windows, which were somehow still intact, a small amount of natural light streamed into the darkened room.
The crew, or at least a portion of it, remained alive. Now came the real challenge- surviving on this rock, and getting the force back into space.
Freemanuncg
Warlord
Silent
Invisible
In the way of Nalese for hundreds of thousands of years.
She stalked through the tall grass.
Her ears were perked up and her whole body was tense as her razor sharp claws extended digging into the soil.
The prey was downwind, it did not know she was there.
The Prey bent its head to wrench another mouthful of leaves from the low green shrub, she made her move.
The Nalese are a very quick and agile species, when standing on two legs they could move more quickly than any non avian species in the horde. On four legs, glorying in the hunt after so many years, she was the wind. Faster than she had ever run before, she leapt forward.
The Prey turned its head, Far too late, she was upon it.
To inferior species the Nalese were merciful, the Circle taught that all life was connected, and that their preys sacrifice was a gift to the people and that the prey should be respected.
Three thousand years ago the missionaries of The Circle came to Nala and found the Nalese incredibly receptive to the intergalactic religion. It embraced the Nalese traditional practices of hunting their prey and the Nalese life style saw almost no changes as a result of the mass conversions. Soon the Nalese were some of the strongest supporters of the Circle, and were stalwart in their faith throughout their enslavement by the Rafiki Horde.
She was only a cub when the horde had invaded, thats why she was taken; the Rafiki believed that the young would be more pliable than the adult Nalese, who had resisted almost to extinction, but she remembered her home. She was now two hundred and fifty cycles old, most of the Nalese pilots were almost the same age as her, the oldest were three hundred cycles Colonel Simfasa would be three hundred in the next cycle. He had taught them of the ways of Nalese and trained them to be unmatched pilots and warriors. Simfasa was a hero to the Nalese the head of the Pride, any of them would follow him to the ends of the universe.
Her world narrowed to the Prey. The sounds of the birds and beasts of the out-back were silenced, all her senses and training culminated in this moment.
She went for the throat immediately ending the life of the large creature quickly.
She roared singing her pleasure to the plains, her senses expanding it was as if she could hear everything. The rodent in the thorn bushes, the birds chirping in the trees, she could hear it all smell it all. Her blood was pounding.
I thank you for your sacrifice she said, the traditional blessing the Circle had taught them, and rose to her full height. She lifted the carcass on to her shoulder, her impressive muscles flexing beneath her thick black fur, and taking off at a run back towards the Makuna Hatata and the encampment of Fighter Squadron Epsilon.
Invisible
In the way of Nalese for hundreds of thousands of years.
She stalked through the tall grass.
Her ears were perked up and her whole body was tense as her razor sharp claws extended digging into the soil.
The prey was downwind, it did not know she was there.
The Prey bent its head to wrench another mouthful of leaves from the low green shrub, she made her move.
The Nalese are a very quick and agile species, when standing on two legs they could move more quickly than any non avian species in the horde. On four legs, glorying in the hunt after so many years, she was the wind. Faster than she had ever run before, she leapt forward.
The Prey turned its head, Far too late, she was upon it.
To inferior species the Nalese were merciful, the Circle taught that all life was connected, and that their preys sacrifice was a gift to the people and that the prey should be respected.
Three thousand years ago the missionaries of The Circle came to Nala and found the Nalese incredibly receptive to the intergalactic religion. It embraced the Nalese traditional practices of hunting their prey and the Nalese life style saw almost no changes as a result of the mass conversions. Soon the Nalese were some of the strongest supporters of the Circle, and were stalwart in their faith throughout their enslavement by the Rafiki Horde.
She was only a cub when the horde had invaded, thats why she was taken; the Rafiki believed that the young would be more pliable than the adult Nalese, who had resisted almost to extinction, but she remembered her home. She was now two hundred and fifty cycles old, most of the Nalese pilots were almost the same age as her, the oldest were three hundred cycles Colonel Simfasa would be three hundred in the next cycle. He had taught them of the ways of Nalese and trained them to be unmatched pilots and warriors. Simfasa was a hero to the Nalese the head of the Pride, any of them would follow him to the ends of the universe.
Her world narrowed to the Prey. The sounds of the birds and beasts of the out-back were silenced, all her senses and training culminated in this moment.
She went for the throat immediately ending the life of the large creature quickly.
She roared singing her pleasure to the plains, her senses expanding it was as if she could hear everything. The rodent in the thorn bushes, the birds chirping in the trees, she could hear it all smell it all. Her blood was pounding.
I thank you for your sacrifice she said, the traditional blessing the Circle had taught them, and rose to her full height. She lifted the carcass on to her shoulder, her impressive muscles flexing beneath her thick black fur, and taking off at a run back towards the Makuna Hatata and the encampment of Fighter Squadron Epsilon.
The Abandonment on Earth
Tsierik's first sensation, as he acclimatized to the sudden state of motionless, was the horrible crushing force of gravity that rapidly overtook the crew as the Scafiri's own artificial gravity generators gave out. It came slowly, as if someone were constantly pouring water into a huge bag on his back. The Tourliski pushed himself up from the prone position into which he'd been thrown by the crash, only to slowly, and painfully be pulled down. Vocalizations failing, Tsierik simply gave out a pained groan. Tails and heads flat on the ground, the Tourliski made a few pathetic attempts to flap his battery of wings, but his powerful flying appendages were unable to do anything more than flop around in a pathetic and sluggish twitch. Grunting, the Wing Commander made a careful turn of his claw, tapping a few controls on his flight suit. A small antigravity field suddenly generated itself around him, and the Tourliski took flight. A few seconds later, every undamaged flight suit was remotely commanded to commence generating fields of their own, and the relieved survivors lifed off of the floor of their crashed vessel.
Tsierik flew around experimentally. The fields were not a perfect solution, he still felt abnormally heavy, and the center of antigravity pushed against his torso uncomfortably while his heads and tails struggled against the powerful gravity of this planet. However, they would have to do for now. With a few flaps, he made his way over to the helmsman, who still held the controls in a death grip.
"I commend you for your landing, you've saved our force. "
"Thank you Wing Commander."
"You are Lucor-Preni Khaz-Dio, correct?"
"Yes."
Tsierik nodded and opened up a channel to the whole ship.
"Alright crew, we're alive but there's much still to do. Engineering, I want a full survey of the Scafiri, get me a report on its physical condition and salvageability. Navigation, make a tactical survey of our immediate area and correlate it with our present surface scans of this world. Communications, patch me in to the Conglomerate's network. All others, aid in the evacuation of equipment from this vessel."
"We've got a connection Commander."
"Good." Tsierik mentally prepared himself, then began. "Greetings, Conglomerate Command. This is Commander Tsierik-Lufor Khaz-Dio of Omicron Wing. Our Supercarrier, the Scafiri, has been downed by rogue Nalese squadrons of Wings Upsilon, Epsilon, Mu, and Eta. We have crash-landed intact in an interior region on the planet, and are currently assessing our damages and tactical situation. Please advise."
For some time, stretching beyond a minute, there was no reply at all. The Tourliski Commander's composure was beginning to crack when
"Wing Commander, where is Marshal Trefiki?"
Tsierik looked at the badly bludgeoned Rafiki bleeding in a corner of the bridge.
"He's sustained injuries of unknown severity. Our doctors working to stabilize him now."
Tsierik looked again- the body was lying still, and on closer examination the blood was simply oozing out of its facial orfices, rather than escaping in spurts. It was generally ignored in the flurry of activity on the ship.
"Yes, we've got our medics working on him right now. But what is our situation space-side, we require rescue shuttles and cargo transports, and perhaps a salvage-"
The connection was dead. A few more minutes of silence passed before a preliminary engineering report arrived remotely. The ship's fuselage was pockmarked and shredded, and a long trail of debris, mixed in with a light blue mixture of fire retardant foam and stretched along the length of the crash site. Most systems were burnt out or otherwise critically damaged, and some 80% of the reactor units were for some reason inoperant. The basic framework of the ship was badly warped, and by all means should be condemned after having suffered through such mechanical stress. Essentially, the ship was a write-off. Disappointed, though not surprised, Tsierik reopened his communications.
"Hello Conglomerate Command, please come in, this is the downed Supercarrier Scafiri, our crew has survived a crippling crash, we require surface evacuation. Please respond." Several further seconds of silence followed, prompting Tsierik to continue. "And please tell us what is happening."
Another deadly silence enveloped the Wing Commander, until a buzz of static and a voice broke through.
"Hello Tourliski Commander, this is Captain Mikos of the Supercarrier Purai. Nalese renegades have assaulted our Nitros-crewed vessel, but were repelled. We're as confused as you are, it seems to be a large-scale rebellion."
"We understood as much, what is the situation in orbit?"
"Chaotic does not begin. Nalese running amok, I think they're regrouping. They've crippled many carriers, and possibly hijacked a few. Rafiki ships from the command core are starting to desert, it seems like the whole Conglomerate is collapsing. Also, several new Human missiles have blasted a few low-orbit carriers at random."
"I understand. Are you able to launch a rescue operation? We have all of Omicron-"
"Negative Tourliski Commander."
"What!?"
"We... not going to risk it any longer. The Nalese could be back at any moment, the Rafiki are scattering, we've slaughtered our command crew and are going to do the same."
Tsierik nearly sputtered in shock. "But your kin are down here! You are Nitros, there are vast numbers of your kind of the surface."
"Kin there, but skin's up here. We'd quite like to live, and if we're ever going to escape the Rafiki, the time would be now."
Tsierik grimaced. Everyone had made plans for the downfall of their overlords... but no Tourliski had been prepared for an ending like this. It was supposed to happen in an elegantly-executed coup when the time was right, not in some chaotic melee. And now... anger, an oft-suppressed emotion in the Tourliski, began to boil over.
"You won't even make it half a parsec with your Rafiki officers dead! It's your responsibility to attempt a recovery!"
"Sorry, but no, and good bye." The connection cut out. Beginning to feel a sense of panic, Tsierik made several more broadcasts. None were reciprocated. After another long period of unresponsiveness, a sensors officer approached the Commander.
"News?"
"Yes. The fleet is abandoning this system, we're getting hyperjumps out of the area heading out at irregular intervals. We can't really tell what's going on up there, but it seems that whatever it is, it isn't... going to leave anyone up there."
"So there's no one to mount a rescue."
"...yes."
Tsierik-Lufor Khaz-Dio bowed his head.
"Very well. We'll change our approach them. Can I get a broadcast out to all of our on-planet forces?"
"Potentially."
"Good."
Steeling himself, the fatigued Commander prepared to make one more transmission.
"Attention forces of the former Rafiki Conglomerate. This is Commander Tsierik-Lufor Khaz-Dio of Omicron Wing. It has become clear that the Rafiki have fallen, and it is crucial that we do not fall along as well. Our force has been stranded on the surface, and we are attempting to establish contact with any remaining forces on the surface in order to pool our forces and resources. Please respond if you receive this message, I shall attempt to continue producing these broadcasts for as long as is reasonably possible. Tsierik out."
Tsierik's first sensation, as he acclimatized to the sudden state of motionless, was the horrible crushing force of gravity that rapidly overtook the crew as the Scafiri's own artificial gravity generators gave out. It came slowly, as if someone were constantly pouring water into a huge bag on his back. The Tourliski pushed himself up from the prone position into which he'd been thrown by the crash, only to slowly, and painfully be pulled down. Vocalizations failing, Tsierik simply gave out a pained groan. Tails and heads flat on the ground, the Tourliski made a few pathetic attempts to flap his battery of wings, but his powerful flying appendages were unable to do anything more than flop around in a pathetic and sluggish twitch. Grunting, the Wing Commander made a careful turn of his claw, tapping a few controls on his flight suit. A small antigravity field suddenly generated itself around him, and the Tourliski took flight. A few seconds later, every undamaged flight suit was remotely commanded to commence generating fields of their own, and the relieved survivors lifed off of the floor of their crashed vessel.
Tsierik flew around experimentally. The fields were not a perfect solution, he still felt abnormally heavy, and the center of antigravity pushed against his torso uncomfortably while his heads and tails struggled against the powerful gravity of this planet. However, they would have to do for now. With a few flaps, he made his way over to the helmsman, who still held the controls in a death grip.
"I commend you for your landing, you've saved our force. "
"Thank you Wing Commander."
"You are Lucor-Preni Khaz-Dio, correct?"
"Yes."
Tsierik nodded and opened up a channel to the whole ship.
"Alright crew, we're alive but there's much still to do. Engineering, I want a full survey of the Scafiri, get me a report on its physical condition and salvageability. Navigation, make a tactical survey of our immediate area and correlate it with our present surface scans of this world. Communications, patch me in to the Conglomerate's network. All others, aid in the evacuation of equipment from this vessel."
"We've got a connection Commander."
"Good." Tsierik mentally prepared himself, then began. "Greetings, Conglomerate Command. This is Commander Tsierik-Lufor Khaz-Dio of Omicron Wing. Our Supercarrier, the Scafiri, has been downed by rogue Nalese squadrons of Wings Upsilon, Epsilon, Mu, and Eta. We have crash-landed intact in an interior region on the planet, and are currently assessing our damages and tactical situation. Please advise."
For some time, stretching beyond a minute, there was no reply at all. The Tourliski Commander's composure was beginning to crack when
"Wing Commander, where is Marshal Trefiki?"
Tsierik looked at the badly bludgeoned Rafiki bleeding in a corner of the bridge.
"He's sustained injuries of unknown severity. Our doctors working to stabilize him now."
Tsierik looked again- the body was lying still, and on closer examination the blood was simply oozing out of its facial orfices, rather than escaping in spurts. It was generally ignored in the flurry of activity on the ship.
"Yes, we've got our medics working on him right now. But what is our situation space-side, we require rescue shuttles and cargo transports, and perhaps a salvage-"
The connection was dead. A few more minutes of silence passed before a preliminary engineering report arrived remotely. The ship's fuselage was pockmarked and shredded, and a long trail of debris, mixed in with a light blue mixture of fire retardant foam and stretched along the length of the crash site. Most systems were burnt out or otherwise critically damaged, and some 80% of the reactor units were for some reason inoperant. The basic framework of the ship was badly warped, and by all means should be condemned after having suffered through such mechanical stress. Essentially, the ship was a write-off. Disappointed, though not surprised, Tsierik reopened his communications.
"Hello Conglomerate Command, please come in, this is the downed Supercarrier Scafiri, our crew has survived a crippling crash, we require surface evacuation. Please respond." Several further seconds of silence followed, prompting Tsierik to continue. "And please tell us what is happening."
Another deadly silence enveloped the Wing Commander, until a buzz of static and a voice broke through.
"Hello Tourliski Commander, this is Captain Mikos of the Supercarrier Purai. Nalese renegades have assaulted our Nitros-crewed vessel, but were repelled. We're as confused as you are, it seems to be a large-scale rebellion."
"We understood as much, what is the situation in orbit?"
"Chaotic does not begin. Nalese running amok, I think they're regrouping. They've crippled many carriers, and possibly hijacked a few. Rafiki ships from the command core are starting to desert, it seems like the whole Conglomerate is collapsing. Also, several new Human missiles have blasted a few low-orbit carriers at random."
"I understand. Are you able to launch a rescue operation? We have all of Omicron-"
"Negative Tourliski Commander."
"What!?"
"We... not going to risk it any longer. The Nalese could be back at any moment, the Rafiki are scattering, we've slaughtered our command crew and are going to do the same."
Tsierik nearly sputtered in shock. "But your kin are down here! You are Nitros, there are vast numbers of your kind of the surface."
"Kin there, but skin's up here. We'd quite like to live, and if we're ever going to escape the Rafiki, the time would be now."
Tsierik grimaced. Everyone had made plans for the downfall of their overlords... but no Tourliski had been prepared for an ending like this. It was supposed to happen in an elegantly-executed coup when the time was right, not in some chaotic melee. And now... anger, an oft-suppressed emotion in the Tourliski, began to boil over.
"You won't even make it half a parsec with your Rafiki officers dead! It's your responsibility to attempt a recovery!"
"Sorry, but no, and good bye." The connection cut out. Beginning to feel a sense of panic, Tsierik made several more broadcasts. None were reciprocated. After another long period of unresponsiveness, a sensors officer approached the Commander.
"News?"
"Yes. The fleet is abandoning this system, we're getting hyperjumps out of the area heading out at irregular intervals. We can't really tell what's going on up there, but it seems that whatever it is, it isn't... going to leave anyone up there."
"So there's no one to mount a rescue."
"...yes."
Tsierik-Lufor Khaz-Dio bowed his head.
"Very well. We'll change our approach them. Can I get a broadcast out to all of our on-planet forces?"
"Potentially."
"Good."
Steeling himself, the fatigued Commander prepared to make one more transmission.
"Attention forces of the former Rafiki Conglomerate. This is Commander Tsierik-Lufor Khaz-Dio of Omicron Wing. It has become clear that the Rafiki have fallen, and it is crucial that we do not fall along as well. Our force has been stranded on the surface, and we are attempting to establish contact with any remaining forces on the surface in order to pool our forces and resources. Please respond if you receive this message, I shall attempt to continue producing these broadcasts for as long as is reasonably possible. Tsierik out."
Abaddon
Deity
Do we have a deadline?
SKILORD
Insurgent
Well, if I've received your orders I've also written your part of the update. As far as general parts of the update concerning everyone, this is also written.
I'm going to post the update on Saturday, it being the first turn if people haven't gotten me their orders by late afternoon on Saturday I'll probably just have them scavenge around their starting encampment and bank their economy. It won't get them optimal results but it will, hopefully, be a show of good faith for the beginning of the NES, both for people who are too busy to send orders considering this turn lasted only a single week (in the future it will be two) and also for people who want assurances of consistent forward progress.
I'm going to post the update on Saturday, it being the first turn if people haven't gotten me their orders by late afternoon on Saturday I'll probably just have them scavenge around their starting encampment and bank their economy. It won't get them optimal results but it will, hopefully, be a show of good faith for the beginning of the NES, both for people who are too busy to send orders considering this turn lasted only a single week (in the future it will be two) and also for people who want assurances of consistent forward progress.
thomas.berubeg
Wandering the World
“Stealth Cruiser Letahl requesting flight patterns for approach to command core. Secure codes transmitting now.”
“Affirmative, standby for transfer. How was it down there?” The Raspy voice of the Rafiki Flight control officer buzzed through the captain’s cabin.
“Chaos. They know the Rafiki hit them, but there’s no one left down there to organize a response.”
“And all thanks to you Lilin, eh?”
“Yep. Nobody can resist the… Allure.” Quarinah purred into the radio.
The Flight control officer chuckled. “well, I bet you all are ready to get back to civilization after months down on that dirtball.”
“Oh, absolutely. What I’d GIVE for a decent Klap’tah shower.”
“Well, Welcome back.”
The consol in front of the Pilot gave a cheerful beep, confirming that the IFF codes of the fleet had been updated. Deactivating the Stealth armor of the ship, the Pilot slipped into one of the shipping lanes of the fleet, dropping underneath a Supercarrier that was maneuvering towards the planet.
The Pilot flicked a switch on her consol, opening a line to the bridge command. “Captain Qarînah, We’re coming into approach now. If you take a look out your port window, the Command core should be bearing into view behind the Scafiri.” Indeed, as the pilot watched, the Scafiri ignited its main thrusters for the microjump to the planet. “ETA 15 Minutes. We’re almost home, friends.” The pilot frowned in concentration, deftly maneuvering the ship towards the hanger bays, dropping into formation between a wing of Nalese Fighters.
“All Units, be advised. Command Core has been declared off limits by High Admiral Takrelle. Repeat, the CORE is being sealed off. Bear away or be destroyed.” The harsh crackle of the Rafiki’s voice reverberated through the corridors of the ship. The Nalese fighters in front of the Letahl Pealed away from the core, and the pilot made to follow, when a sudden crash shook the ship. Lights dimmed, automatically switching to emergency settings, as another blast shook the ship.
“ENGAGE STEALTH ARMOR.” The Captain’s voice rang through the Letahl. “I want a damage report.”
“Jump engines destroyed, Captain, life support on emergency power.”
“What hit us?”
“Nalese, Captain.”
“Nalese? Damn cats. I need fleet status.”
“A number of Supercarriers are downed, both planet side and drifting in space. Distress signals from everywhere. Seems the Humans have Launched an attack. Radioactive clouds are dissipating near the planet.”
“Could the Nalese and the humans have been working together?”
“Negative, telemetrics states that the human attacks came full minutes before the Nalese struck. I think the nalese just took advantage of the Chaos.”
“Affirmative, standby for transfer. How was it down there?” The Raspy voice of the Rafiki Flight control officer buzzed through the captain’s cabin.
“Chaos. They know the Rafiki hit them, but there’s no one left down there to organize a response.”
“And all thanks to you Lilin, eh?”
“Yep. Nobody can resist the… Allure.” Quarinah purred into the radio.
The Flight control officer chuckled. “well, I bet you all are ready to get back to civilization after months down on that dirtball.”
“Oh, absolutely. What I’d GIVE for a decent Klap’tah shower.”
“Well, Welcome back.”
The consol in front of the Pilot gave a cheerful beep, confirming that the IFF codes of the fleet had been updated. Deactivating the Stealth armor of the ship, the Pilot slipped into one of the shipping lanes of the fleet, dropping underneath a Supercarrier that was maneuvering towards the planet.
The Pilot flicked a switch on her consol, opening a line to the bridge command. “Captain Qarînah, We’re coming into approach now. If you take a look out your port window, the Command core should be bearing into view behind the Scafiri.” Indeed, as the pilot watched, the Scafiri ignited its main thrusters for the microjump to the planet. “ETA 15 Minutes. We’re almost home, friends.” The pilot frowned in concentration, deftly maneuvering the ship towards the hanger bays, dropping into formation between a wing of Nalese Fighters.
“All Units, be advised. Command Core has been declared off limits by High Admiral Takrelle. Repeat, the CORE is being sealed off. Bear away or be destroyed.” The harsh crackle of the Rafiki’s voice reverberated through the corridors of the ship. The Nalese fighters in front of the Letahl Pealed away from the core, and the pilot made to follow, when a sudden crash shook the ship. Lights dimmed, automatically switching to emergency settings, as another blast shook the ship.
“ENGAGE STEALTH ARMOR.” The Captain’s voice rang through the Letahl. “I want a damage report.”
“Jump engines destroyed, Captain, life support on emergency power.”
“What hit us?”
“Nalese, Captain.”
“Nalese? Damn cats. I need fleet status.”
“A number of Supercarriers are downed, both planet side and drifting in space. Distress signals from everywhere. Seems the Humans have Launched an attack. Radioactive clouds are dissipating near the planet.”
“Could the Nalese and the humans have been working together?”
“Negative, telemetrics states that the human attacks came full minutes before the Nalese struck. I think the nalese just took advantage of the Chaos.”
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