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Forthammer would be quickly abandoned the fire spreading throughout the decks with ease due to the cheap materials that we're used as well as the wide open spaces that allow the fire to grow further and further, small escape boats can be seen exiting the burning warship. The boats are too slow to escape the sudden magazine and fuel explosion, causing a chain reaction to occur with several of the boats colliding with the other boats causing the crew to suffocate from the ether as their glass panes and hulls break. Only one boat survives but its thrusters heavily damaged and inactive, slowly shambling into the depths of nothingness with only one crewman still somewhat alive due to being the only one to put on a breathing gear as everyone mustered in to the escape boats out of pure panic and fear.
With nothing to do but die, the lone crewman would decide to write a letter with a scrap of paper, its message may never be delivered.
Yosgel’s starmap would show the vicinity of Nesotia, being a giant red circle within 1,000 units from the center, beside Nesotia just edge of the starmap itself are neighboring polities, that they have contacted before but have not established any formal relations, this seems to be the Felines and the Nagas…? This information is still unsure and second contact may appear soon. The Exelion would be on the edge of frontier space, bordering an etherlane, in fact two of them, just a few units near the intersection of it. A flight path of the colonial ship can be also seen taking a quick detour to a local neutron star to have a gravitational slingshot to hasten the flight time. One of the stars on Lord Fendi’s dataslate would align with the arrival destination of Exelion. “I suppose there is an option to show the territory of the polities too?” he asks.
Rhian would be looking at the distance on one of the sides of the temple and sees something odd. Taking out her binoculars she would see several people exiting one of the antechambers, till then a massive explosion erupts, causing a section nearby the antechamber to collapse, a haze of yellow and orange taking Yosgel and Lord Fendi’s group would surprise, luckily they are nowhere near the blast site. “Darling.. you might wanna see this.” Yosgel’s ears would perk and would hurridly go to where Rhian is standing, leaving his dataslate behind with Lord Fendi. “What in Aetes’ name are they doing… Are they carrying a sarcophagus?” Upon closer inspection, it is a black sarcophagus with gold trimming, peculiarly it emanates a red glow alongside with red chains that seem to restrain it. The figures carrying them are wearing hoods. “Are you sure those aren’t the cultists in Kvottameir? Worriedly asked by her, ”They’re wearing hoods so I don’t know what markings they have on their face or skin, godammit why of all times we have to deal with something like this.”
Tsk tsk, grave robbery is already a serious offense in Nesotia and now these idiots are robbing the grave of a thousand year old corpse too in a protected area.
Tabbina, now knowing that this strange man wasn't part of her fleet, started to wonder if the man was still alive. If he was he may have already died, or taken up the role of a real leader... Or perhaps captured. Too many variables to really say, even then it was a big galaxy. Maybe he's stranded on some world either waiting for death or hitting it off with whatever local life is there. Thinking on what Ilox and Mithra were discussing about black sheeps and glory hounds, she already had someone in mind who might be vulnerable to such tricks... Her younger brother would be one such idiot.
The shuttle was met halfway by fighter craft, it seems that these were made by the Eliksni since they all had a similar design that was very much not of this galaxy, that started to guide the shuttle towards a hangerbay on Fraph's ship There were signs of modification to the crafts that allowed them to sail through the ether with ease, such things would be commonplace for larger civilisations but for newcomers to the galaxy it was quite a sight.
The hanger bay they were guided to was large, with lots of the same fighters suspended from the ceiling of the hanger and dropships like the ones they saw before with Mithra's ship low to the ground. There was a small runway in the centre of the hanger that had been cleared for them to land, a small procession of troops. around 50 troops in columns of 25 to the right and left of two figures. One was undoubtedly Baron Mithra, and the other was a much larger Female like Tabbina. Though more notably, Fraph was at least 2 feet taller than Tabbina, 12 ft tall! Just what the hell do they eat to get this large?? The uniform these troops were wearing was far different to the soldiers and scavenger crews they saw before. These were large 6ft tall soldiers in a gunmetal grey set of armour.
https://imgur.com/UVswjXb
Ilox noted the rather quick adaptation to the Ether that the Eilksni had done, in comparison to other extragalactic civilizations at least. Iammelon had plenty of experience in dealing with those not of this galaxy, usually not in a pleasant fashion, and so it knew well that adapting to Hoshizora was something most newcomers had some difficulty in dealing with. Iammelon's more turbulent conditions in particular had always been an advantage when dealing with invaders, as Iammelonians utilized their superior knowledge of navigation to strike down normally superior foes. Seeing that the Eliksni had adapted quickly was certainly impressive, and spoke to their adaptability in Ilox's eyes. It also made it so that they were more likely to be a useful ally, or a deadly foe. She hoped for the former, as she really was not in the position to handle another extragalactic foe.
The shuttle followed along with the fighter escort towards the hangerbay, soon enough landing within at the cleared area. Emerging from her shuttle, the Human took another look around. She noted the difference in armor, and she surmised it was likely down to a difference in house from Mithra. This House of Vengeance was after all apparently a combination of multiple smaller houses, so it was reasonable that those of different houses would wear different equipment in order to identify themselves, or it was simply a holdover from their time as separate groups. In any case, she quickly noted Fraph, that tactician of the House of Broken Dreams as Mithra had said. She was apparently in charge, and her escalation of size was certainly notable. Ilox quietly thought to herself, "First a Taurus sized one, now a proper giant. Maybe if we keep going we'll eventually find a Dragon-sized one?"
Regardless of her internal musing on size, Ilox and her two companions stepped forward towards the procession. It was quite a few soldiers, but the Omnipo Commander kept herself calm. She looked to Fraph and gave a nod, "You must be Baroness Fraph then. I am Commander Ilox, leader of the formerly OMNI Battle Fleet Hokaris, the fleet that encountered Baron Mithra over there at the Duxton system. Nice to make your acquaintance." She kept herself back enough so she didn't have to careen her head up too much in order to look at Fraph's face, given the notable size difference. The only one of the Omnipo group who sized up was Captain Maltoi, although while he was Tabbina's size he was still shorter than Fraph, something that amused the Marine Captain as it was not very common that he was outdone.
Fendi looked it over and gave a small nod at the option, transferring over the information of other territories that Iammelon had come into contact with. This made the feline M'hassari Territories more clear, but the Naga territory was quite vague. This was because the Naga did not really run an organized territory, but rather simply took up certain areas of space as their personal hunting grounds for their family or clan. So the data from Fendi's tablet simply marked out generally known areas in which Naga operated rather than distinct borders. Though of course it also added other areas, such as Iammelon itself, a rather large expanse. That was when Fendi noticed that Exeilon was rather close to Iammelon, which got him to narrow his eyes and grunt.
However before he could air his concerns, that was when the explosion went off. He quickly turned in the direction of the sound, taking his own binoculars to look into the distance. He snarled at the sight, and handed off both dataslates to one of his assistants. With clear anger in his voice, Fendi spoke up, "Unacceptable, disgraceful! Desecration of the dead! Absolutely disgusting. I may be overstepping my bounds here, but I cannot abide that. Grave robbery is a grave sin indeed by Anubite standards, and I can tell there is something wrong with what they are carrying. Clearly we have some spiritual containment work to do here. Aslin, prepare yourself and the guards." Fendi picked up his own staff, the jewls on which began to glow. He looked over to Yosgel, "You don't get the choice of whether or not we involve ourselves. This is a duty of Anubites. However, this is your world, so I will do things your way. How do you normally handle situations such as this?"
The Bezannian ships shields protected their ships from any explosions or shrapnel from said explosion. Whoever was in charge of this naval squadron was more competent then the last commander. This new commander engaged his squadron in a thorough and dedicated sweep of the area for survivors. When the lone escape craft was found, a Bezannia ship pulled in and moored the escape craft. Bringing it to the deck, the lone flagbearer was greeted by seven marines and five able seamen. Rifles drawn, ether masks equipped, and ready for action. Upon seeing the lone survivor still aboard, a marine shouted, "Hands up!" If the man put up no resistance, he would be searched by pat down. Once removed of personal items and weapons, he was placed in a pair of tight fitting shackles. Escorted off the deck of the Bezannian ship, and to the interior he was taken down long cramped hallways. A seaman opened a bulkhead and two marines followed the man into a small room. It was windowless, featureless, except for a small table across from a cell. They opened the cell and pushed him in, closing and locking the iron door behind him. Around half an hour later, the bulkhead to the room opened and three men entered the room. A fatimazda wearing a navy frock coat with a tie and navy trousers. He was in an undress uniform, as were the two individuals behind him. Another fatimazda wearing in undress and a human in undress. The main Fatimazda seemed to be a flag officer, of some kind. The second one a captain, and the human a lieutenant.
"If you want to stay on my ship you'll tell me who sent you to attack our convoy. Play games or refuse to answer my question and I will personally throw you into the Ether. Are we clear?"
"My name is Doctor Elise Stanislavovna. This is penicillin, antibiotic. If your friend is injured I can try and treat any wounds he has with this and some stitches." Elise followed Filia, "and thank you for saving me. I know it must have taken a split second decision, but I do appreciate your saving me." As Filia and Elise reached the command room with Harlock and Jazmin, the latter jumped up and raised her hands. But realising that it was Filia Jazmin lowered her hands.
"Oh, welcome back. Who's this lady?"
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"Yea, but I don't buy into much religious stuff. Especially not star dragons turning into mountains and blood seeping down and making sentients. Sounds like a tall tale to make one feel better about their standing in the universe. Preposterous, if you ask me." She chuckled, "aah, I forget that you weren't raised here sometimes. Splash is hunting game for sport. Shooting duck, geese, fowls. The splash part refers to this sport originating on Bezembay in the part known as 'The Splash.' You either sit on a boat or trek through the mud depending on your party. It's quite a large group that goes too. Servants to load the guns, dogs to fetch the shot game, friends to accompany you through the shoot. It's a noble's game. I know the Creach do a lot of Splash in the lowlands, Fatimazda just go to Dernby or Bezembay. At one time I believe I could have joined a game of Splash but now I doubt I could. I am curious as to what exactly you had in mind for a hobby. I know you hold interest in weapons, perhaps we could find a gunsmith? Or perhaps you'd rather gamble. If you're feeling artistic, why not go to a cafe? In any case, I will need you to narrow down what you mean by 'hobby." Liline spoke in a relaxed tone as she walked down the boulevard.
A man walked along an old dirt path, he was herding a small flock of Mainbuwicks. Behind him were several other Ikhanda men. They wore cloaks and beaded headbands, but no shoes. Each were carrying large packs. Nearby, on a motorcycle, was a Bezannian man. His skin was tan, but he wore a grey linen jacket, cream trousers, black riding boots, and a wide straw hat. The Bezannian man had a rifle tucked into the saddle of his motorized vehicle. He rode alongside the Ikhanda men, wiping the sweat from his face with a rag. Lifting up a canteen he sipped it and placed it back on his belt. An equiaux ran alongside the bike, hopping with a bit of a gait. "How far to New Herneshire?"
"Ninety or a hundred more kilometers? Over this mountain."
"And are we selling the land too?"
"Course not, I intend on returning to the ranch after the valley calms down."
"And why couldn't we just buy a house on Arlington like mother suggested?"
"Because your mother is an aristocratic mare who already despises me for the inability to produce her grandchildren."
"I have told you that she does not hate you in the way you constantly describe."
"Oh does she not? Moon forgive me, she must hate my guts in some other way."
"Just be glad that you got along with father, otherwise we wouldn't be married." The human man grumbled and the equiaux continued walking with the motorcycle. But the whole pack of humans and equiaux stopped as over the mountains lumbered three massive ships. They rolled and parted clouds with ease, delicately sailing down the skyways. Battleships gleaming in the sunlight, guns pointed forward. The two Bezannians watching in awe as the large battleships sailed down the skyways, towards Ukukhazi and Inkambu.
Inside the metal beast of the skies stood a man dressed in purple uniform. He carried a small wooden stick and was flanked by four others in similar uniforms. In front of him were forty five humanoids in red uniforms. Sitting or standing, they all were occupying the center of a large vehicle depot.
"Knights of the Empire, you know your objectives and targets! Nine Squads, lead by Sirs Westley, Lake, Cunningham, Moss, Lawson, Hunt, Bradley, and Dames Robertson and Webb. Westley Squad takes point on Ukukhazi. Cunningham and Webb squads will take the east and west approaches to Inkambu. But I will lead the charge up the wash and reserve the right to strike at the city first." The man standing in the center drew his sword and held it in the air, "Moon Bless Bezannia! Moon Save the Empress!" The other knights in the room drew their swords and repeated the cry.
Across the same hanger bay two riflemen were sitting against a set of crates, a measctha eating an apple and a Fatimazda sat with his arms crossed. "What a load of pompous blokes." The Fatimazda scoffed as he watched the group of knights sheath their swords and move to the Rutherfords.
"You're just jealous a bunch of humans, knife-ears, and badgers get to wear fancy uniforms and make you bow to them."
"That is not what I'm on about!"
"Oh yes it is, you eckers are all the same. Wanting to be the biggest and fanciest of the lot." The measctha took a bite of his apple and stood up, "Now come on, we have to muster to action stations, edjit." The Fatimazda raised his lip to growl but just glared at the Measctha next to him. The two walking off and away from their resting spot.
As Sir Edward Keats placed his boot into the stirrup and wrapped his arm around the cable he suddenly shot into the air. The cable raising him up from the ground to the cockpit. He stepped off the stirrup and took a seat, pulling a lever on the chair. The whole section sliding forward and the back lifting up to seal and pressurize itself. The chair clicked into place and Keats placed his thumb firmly onto an ornate contraption. Lifting his thumb, there was a soft hum that started to grow into a mighty howl. A screen flickered to life, the silvery-blue colour distortion coming through and making an audible click. There was a pause, but the screen played a small jingle consisting of the first few notes of the national anthem and the words "Long Live the Empress" showed on the screen before the optics systems booted up. Keats used both feet to push pedals and the howling whine erupted into the mighty roar of combustions. Black puffs of smoke erupting from the ribs of the machine before armour plates shifted and blocked the exhaust vents. He pushed a few keys on the console and large charging cables connected to the chest shot away and were subsequently retracted to the ceiling of the loading bay. Taking hold of a handles, he slid one forward. The armour responded by outstretching its arm and grabbing hold of a spear. Then shifting the other handle the other arm grabbed a small submachine gun and holstered it on the backside of the mech, under its cape. The mech then dropped its two skates and started moving forward. Turning to face the main ramp of the ship, this caped mech was soon followed by others. Forming squads, the armours gathered.
From the mountain peak the human and equiaux watched as a sea of purple spill from the gaping maw of the lading ship. Followed by a great cloud of dust, then tanks, and finally trucks. The great sea of movement and dust shooting off in multiple directions. But after a few minutes, all the excitement had gone. The ship was lazily drifting back towards the sky, the last of the trucks making their way over the horizons. Towards Inkambu and Ukukhazi.
Yosgel would walk back toward Lord Fendi’s side while still keeping gaze on those men who stole a sarcophagus. “We ask questions, wrong answer we maul them.” He would view them again on the binoculars and it seems they are walking slowly, perhaps the sarcophagus is that heavy or they are being careful with it. “Ill go in first, they’re cultists, they’re wielding Seithr that should not be possible to be casted outside of the world they originated from.”He would jump out of the balcony and slide downwards toward the general direction of the cultists approaching them slowly, his cape and clothe flowing within the scorching desert sun, the threat of death approaches him as a cold embrace from the back yet he accepts this as a fact that he is approaching dangerous people. The cultists would stop at their track as the leader in front, donned with a black-red cape halts and looks at Yosgel. “Hold it! What the hell are you cultists doing with that sarcophagus? Do you realize-” Upon the distance Yosgel would be soon arguing with the head cultist while the others are in a wedge formation.
A sudden blast of light and then another one, the blast sweeps the sands around them as Yosgel is hit at point blank. He feels his soul escape momentarily before gaining consciousness again. His defense is his willpower no wonder he survived that attack. A glint in the distance, a fountain of red, then a head lands on the foot of Rhaian. She crouches and inspects the head without regard of what just happened. “Oh my, these people are a threat, they have the marks of… Oooh.. They call themselves the Hammer of Me’i. They really wanna blow up a lot of things, the Yllsaggaerl, the Parliament, or what not. They’re enigmatic, we don’t even know where they came from, all we know they started appearing out of nowhere. And they keep talking about a prophecy of the Last Sorceress returning to bring upon the “Golden Age” which sounds a lot of blongus to me.”
The remaining cultists would form a shield around the sarcophagus, their combined shields would stack on one another making a multiformed one, glowing in the same reddish glow as the one on the sarcophagus. Yosgel would stagger and would fall backwards, falling onto the flowing sand. “Oh.. I think that killed me…” A hole on the left side of Yosgel’s stomach, yet this did not even worry him as he stands up again, shivering from the immense pain.
The single lone survivor, unable to move due to how injured he is, already having a blown off leg and a broken arm. He only raises one hand, the sound of heavy breathing due to its cracked helmet can be heard. His personal items include a rosary-like necklace but instead of a cross it would be a hammer, a picture of him and what appears to be his daughter. A single revolver and several rounds on his back pocket. He is too weak to whimper or scream in pain despite being shackled and dragged across the floor even with one of his legs blown off. He does not know whats going on but its best if he just went with the flow to ensure his survival. During the time inside the cell, he leans upon the wall trying to regain composure and strength of whats to come, seething in pain of his broken arm and missing leg, perhaps he should have not accepted this offer if it would mean his life would come to this.
The visitors would suddenly come, he did not expect this but he tries to prepare himself by giving a stoic composture. He looks upon the people that come to them, seems to be a Derigazi or a human in basic aswell as species he hasn’t seen before, reptilian in appearance and has horns like his. Aren’t these the Derisoma that the Jarl talked about during one of those meetings? One of the great fiends? Oh well, no time to regret actions and might as well face the present. He attempts to lean against the wall to stand up staggering a bit. Im already half-dead and you decided to keep me alive, says a lot about you Derisomas and your Derigazi lackies. he breaths deep for a while before staring into the eyes of the Derisoma. “Im only a senior mechanic so I don’t know much the details about this.” He coughs up a bit of blood and feels a sharp pain on the side of his stomach, probably some shrapnel but he tries to not mind it. ”Some weird group approached the Jarl and tried to help us attain our goals by helping them in exchange, this help is probably the attack here. I don’t know what they tried to achieve here but all I know we we’re called upon this mission.”
The admiral maintained a stern face, “fetch the surgeon.” A nearby officer ran out, “By your dress I shall assume that what you say is true for now. I wont interrogate you here. But I will not let you go. Your wounds will be treated and your health restored, after such time has passed I can no longer guarantee such cordiality. The trip to Bezembay is eighteen days without ethersails. The surgeon will treat to you in that time. And we’ll remove those bindings. Don’t mistake my pleasantries for hospitality. I’m a naval man and I have no time to waste on prisoners of war. But I’m not a barbarian. Your needs will be met. Two meals a day, water, and medical treatment.” The admiral then turned and headed for the door. “Disturb the order of my ship and I’ll personally remove the head from your shoulders.” The man and his group left the cell room. Shortly after a female measctha in an officer’s uniform entered. She carried a small leather bag and placed it beside her. Marines opened the cell door to the captive’s cell and removed his bindings, letting the doctor in after. The woman coming close to him and first wetting a rag with sterilising agent, she tended to the missing leg. Wrapping the wound and dressing them with damp rags. The stinging was intense, but after she started prepping a syringe.
“This is a pain killer. Don’t worry about this. I need you to relax and let me put this into your arm.”
Filia lowers her suspicion of her alittle at the mention of Penicillin. She didn't know if that was going to work on Harlock, seeing as he only took on a human appearance thanks to his changeling heritage. His alien biology may not agree with whatever the medical standard was around here. "I'll have to tell you now, my friends may appear human but they aren't like you or me. I don't know how that stuff will effect him. But given his condition we'll just have to take the gamble... And don't mention it. I'd want someone to do the same for me in that situation."
Once they had gotten back, it would appear that Harlock's exhaustion had caught up with him. His human visage was very much gone as he looked like his changeling self again. Filia looked to Jazmin as she smiled over "This is Elise, a doctor that got locked in here before this place got cut off from the surface. Meaning she can at least be trusted. I only just met her but seeing as she was a medical lab locked in some sort of tube, I'd say we can at least trust she's not with the AI on the surface. How have things been here?"
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He certainly couldn't fault her view on the Creach's creation myths, it did sound overly grandiose but he wasn't going to risk saying it aloud. But if people take comfort in it then let them, hell of alot better than considering yourself wormfood once you've lived out your usefulness in a unflinching cosmos.
He was tickled that she forgot that he wasn't born around here. To that end he brought his long and wiry tail, something that he normally doesn't include with his human form seeing as most people don't like to look at the Firstborn Reaver's true form, and lightly bring it out through the sleeve of his jacket to waggle it at her. "Whatever gave that away~?" The tail quickly disappeared after that, no need to attract too much attention. He was very good with his tail, with it being very dexterous and thick as a hose pipe he could proficient use it for a number of things. Something she would be more than aware of after last night of course.
Still, enough about his dexterous tail and its many... Functions. He listened to what this 'Splash' game was. And from what he was told, it was a hunting game. Rather interesting, it certainly appealed to the more primal part of him. Though from the sounds of it, it was a nobles game. And he doubted he could use his status as Lord commander to get a way in, not without some Fattie having him as a way to get a backdoor into Firstborn politics and such. "I'd rather not gamble, never really thought of myself as a man of chance... Gunsmith does sound good though. Though I don't know if one would be willing to let me do some tinkering if we're only going to be here for a short while... I'd narrow it down more if I could, the only issue is that much like you my work was my life."
As Ilox and her two companions approach, it was noticeable to see that it was a first time for alot of the guards present to see a Taurus like the good Captain standing beside the human, and even more were including both the Baron and the Baroness had never seen a Ialao before. Seeing as their more gentle nature would not bring them amongst Apex's numbers naturally. Still, all behaved themselves as Ilox and her Captains approached.
As Ilox addresses Fraph directly, the Baroness stared down at her for a moment seemingly staring through her as a dull expression. Was she disinterested in meeting with them? Was she- W-Wait her eyes seemed to refocus on the small human before her and started to look... Incredibly lost. Mithra did mention that Fraph was something of an introvert. She probably isn't very good at dealing with new people like thi- And she's offering her hand, oh her hand could easily grab hold of Ilox's head it's a big hand. A genius tactician, very bad with dealing with people... The Poor giant woman is way out of her element. A rather interesting lack of confidence for someone her size.
Despite this lack of presence she seemed to have, the troops didn't seem all that deterred by this. Still perfectly stood tall as they all waited for their Baroness to find her footing.
Mithra just pats one of the lower arms of Fraph, slightly making her jump as she looks down at the Baron beside her. Mithra speaks to her with a familiarity that seems to ease her rigid awkwardness. The two of them must be pretty familiar for her to ease up. "Come now, use your words. I can vouch that they are good people." Fraph eyes move from him to look around unsure for a moment but she seems to resolve her own fright and what was no doubt a stressful feeling in her chest that would have had her leaving. She looks back to Ilox with surety as she speaks up. Despite her size her voice was not booming like Tabbina's was. It was soft, not because it was high. Her voice was deep but like silk on the ears. Unintentionally sultry, almost confident in her manner of speaking. "The feeling is mutual Commander Ilox, welcome to our little corner of the space. Mithra told me about his encounter with you briefly before your arrival. It would seem we are in the same boat."
Lord Fendi did not seem to like how this was going, "I believe I will be joining him up close. Not my style to stay behind. Besides, this seems like the sort of thing I am bound to interfere with, I am not a fan of destructive cults. Come along if you like. Guards, with me!" He gestured for his guards to join him as he also leaped over the balcony to slide down. They followed behind him soon after, their weapons drawn as they went down. The Anubite Lord and his guards moved forward to support Yosgel, one guard moving to check on him due to his rather notable wound, there to offer support. Lord Fendi meanwhile threw up a shield in front of Yosgel, his energy being a distinctive blue.
He grunted and spoke out, "Time to surrender or fall, defilers. Time to see just much you truly understand about the dead. Come warriors, you are needed yet again." As he kept up his own shield, two gems on his channeling staff began to glow. From each of them emerged a phantasmal, blue mist, moving to either side of Fendi. They began to take shape, forming into blue, transparent images of Anubite Guardians. They were even holding ghostly versions of the rifles they normally held, although when they fired upon the cultists, they fired blasts of spiritual energy, trying to strike directly at the souls of their targets. In the meanwhile, Aslin as a living guardian raised her own rifle to fire. As it was a real one, it instead fired blasts of heated plasma, a more direct means of attempting to put down the cultists.
All the while, Fendi kept his shield up and spoke back Yosgel, "If you are on the verge of death, there is little shame in falling back if you must. You don't appear to be quite dead yet, and wasting your life would be foolish. But if you can fight, and are willing to, you are more informed on these foes than I. I just hope for my shield to hold."
Elise nodded, “I had deduced that perhaps you were not from this world. I shall keep this in mind when I treat him. Thank you for the warning, and your confidence.” She smiled a little, but maintained her stern face.
Upon entering the room, Elise nodded to Jazmin. “Hello, uh, I’ll assume the one on the floor is the one in need of help.” She approached snd started administering penicillin, and started checking over his general physical condition.
Jazmin creeped towards Filia and whispered to her, “is it me or does she sound like that ai?”
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Liline merely looked at his tail as it appeared from his sleeve and responded with an indifferent look. “Such rudeness. A lady like me deserves a proper gentleman, not a crass bloke!” Her stern look turned to a smirk and she turned her head straight head. “Oho? Not a lucky man, does that mean my escort is full of gambling arrears? Spent too much money on the hounds eh?” She sneered and got serious again, “Aah, I suppose I can see the issue then. Well... perhaps we can find something to do then? But first, lunch! How does a cafe strike you?”
Ilox looked up at the rather nervous Fraph and she was rather amused by her uncertainty. The OMNI Commander actually got a bit of a smile on her face from it, as she did not at all mind. She wasn't a overly strict person, and she did not blame Fraph for being nervous in regards to meeting a new species and culture filled with people you don't know. She was a leader of soldiers, not a diplomat or explorer, and her troops clearly respected her. That meant she was not weak, simply not in her element. Besides, perfect social skills were hardly a requirement for a tactician. So Ilox had a positive reception to the big, lost Baroness.
She simply decided to shake some of Fraph's fingers, as she couldn't shake the whole hand. The oddly sultry voice got an amused eye raising from Captain Maltoi since he wasn't expecting one larger than a Taurus to have such a voice, getting a small smile from him as well. Ilox responded calmly, not at all minding the delay, "That we are, both pushed into traveling the ether after being pushed from our homes. Your fleet is impressive, I must say. And I commend you for dealing with Apex as well, or at least one batch of them. They're a troublesome bunch, and ones I know all too well. Your subordinates spoke well of you, so it's a pleasure to meet you. As I am sure you can guess, I would like to be on good terms with your House of Vengeance, so I'll follow along with the procedures here. Mithra said I needed to meet with you before we could wander about the fleet, so what sort of things do you need me to do? Oh, and I suppose I should introduce the two with me. This is Marine Captain Maltoi, he is a Taurus and a close quarters combat expert." Maltoi gave a wide smile and a wave with his hand. He stayed silent for now however, even despite a clear wish to talk, since he was not granted permission to do so by the commander. Ilox then gestured to the Ialao, "And this is Captain Sysglow, she's an Ialao and more of a technical person." Sysglow simply gave Fraph a nod, before glancing about again to get more looks at the fighter craft in the hanger she seemed to be curious about.
Far from the bounds of the empire deep in uncharted ether or perhaps simply uncharted by the Bezannians, a lone ship sailed. It was a standard Bezannian sloop, a small and light civilian craft. The ship couldn’t have been bigger than fifty metres or so. Across the ship were five crew, a Fatimazda named George was at the helm. He wore a blue woollen jacket and grey trousers, with a long smoking pipe in his mouth. He wore a pair of binoculars around his neck and steered the ship through the endless etherwaves. A cup of tea sat on a table nearby and he lifted it to sip it.
The door to the bridge opened up and an Âne in wellies and a grey jacket entered the bridge, removing his cap, “Cap’n, we’ve got a planet on the range finder. Orograph shows it’s got plenty of landing sites too.”
The fatimazda turned his head, “tell the stripes in the back to get their kit together.” The Âne nodded and put his cap back on before leaving the bridge. Clovis headed down the length of the ship, stopping as he heard the crack of a gunshot. Turning his head over, he spotted a Measctha holding a rifle and firing at the ether.
“Star blasted!” The woman shouted, “Bleeding sharks trying to sneak up on us! Oh, sorry if I startled you, Mister Clovis.”
The Âne raised his hand, “No worries from me, Saoirse. Just keep killing the finned bastards.” He turned again and headed down into an engine area. Passing by whirring and clanking machines, he found two Creach, a man and a woman, elbow deep in engine guts and grease. Clovis shouted, “Oy, Isabella, John, Cap’n wants both of you to your kit!”
The Isabella’s ears wiggled and she popped her head up only to throw a wrench at Clovis. The Âne dodged it and it clanged against the wall behind him, “Piss off! I just got started on trying to fix this ‘ere engine! And now you’re already dragging me away! Fix this, fix that, it’s all the same with you! What? Did the muscle invade your ears too, you crossbreeded rouseabout?”
Clovis grabbed the wrench and shook his head, “Cap’n’s orders, stupide chatte dépouillée...” His voice trailed off as he spoke his insult.
“What’d you say, ya limp-wristed mount? If yer going to insult me, speak the empress’ tongue, shal-lon reprobate.” Clovis left the engine room as Isabelle jumped out from her engine pit, dragging the poor John from it too. She wiped her hands and headed for a locker. Stowing a mechanics aprons and gloves, and grabbing a pair of thick lensed eyeglasses she left the engine room. John following after her shortly.
Meanwhile on the deck, Saoirse slung her rifle and headed into the main cabin. She removed her ether mask and breath equipment, stowing it. Clovis was packing bags in the next room over, Isabella and John joining him. The three worked silently to pack canvas and leather bags with pickaxes, dynamite, and other tools. Saoirse dawned a khaki jacket and wide brimmed hat. Loading up a bandolier with different types of bullets, she patted her holstered pistol, a boot knife, a hip knife, her rifle, then tipped her hat. She suddenly gasped and dug through a locker before pulling out a small flask. Kissing it and grabbing a cigarette case, she slid the two items into her jacket’s pockets.
The ship descended towards the surface of a planet, after preparations had been made. A planet of yellowish hue, one full of wide yellow forests and plains. Imposing mountains and long rivers. George grabbed a telephone from near the helm, “I’ll bring her down in a plain and we’ll see about making some initial spots.” He hung up the phone and shortly after the ship dropped lower. Hovering just above some yellow grassy fields, John and Isabella descended down some rope ladders with large canvas bags of wooden stakes and mallets. The pair hammered stakes into the ground, both wore dirty blue shirts and black trousers with tall boots. Isabella wore a bandana around her neck like a cravat. After hammering in a series of stakes, the pair laid down some large planks in a V shape. Backing away to a safe distance, they waved their arms and the ship slowly came to rest on the small temporary landing pad. The two creach watched as Saoirse came down next, sporting a pair of black shades she hit the ground and stepped away from the ship. Hands in her pockets she eyed the horizon. Finally Clovis and George came down.
Without knowing it, the quintet had set foot on Dynar.
Thomane System, Confederation Space
Eanisk-class corvettes were primarily designed nearly perfectly. They spent an immense amount of time being looked over by Confederate shipwrights and artifical intelligence. The frame itself was usually first, as the internal components were laid in and the hull was designed with the aid of an organic being, usually a Ticonin to pour over each small detail in electronics and component quality. This time however, this particular ship, the River Breaker was overseen by a human. Ticonins largely tended to not make mistakes, as craft was their life, and humans generally only tended to ships if other ships required aid at the time with repairs or retrofits.
A critical part of every ship was of course navigation, tied to the SCHISM AI. The AI itself interfaced with a secondary computer purely designed to calculate Ether lanes and storms, and aligning and recharging the sails. One circuit had a microimperfection, which would've been noticed had it not been for the Vok diplomatic team due for the vessel. It had to be hurried, and the imperfection was passed over. Now while traveling the Ether lane, the navigation terminal made a serious miscalculation and shut off the sails. The AI noticed and engaged the failure protocols, firing off its emergency buoys and a Raven Surveilance Craft as it exited near the planet of Thomane. The violent force in which the ship had been shunted had damaged the main engines used for sublight travel, and it soon entered a rapidly decaying orbit as it viewed the citadel below.
The AI engaged its second and third failsafe, diverting all of its power to shields and communications, sending a brief burst of binary and expending its last buoy into orbit near the Raven. The third failsafe was engaging the crew in a powerful stasis field so they wouldn't be ragdolled. Soon enough as it breached the atmosphere and the friction burned into its energy shielding, it no later slammed into the ground and slid for a solid forty seconds as the kinetic energy was expended. The ship then allowed its stasis field to fail when the AI had judged the energy was gone, and kept its shields online.
Captain Lexuius cursed under her breath, as the RAU drones and soldiers were reorganized. The Vok diplomat, Aithanar slowly stood up as he and the two guardians the Vok had attached as a diplomatic courtesy regained themselves. The crew checked their suits, as two Diplomatic Security Task Force soldiers moved forward to the airlock in DMAS-100 MK1 armor, before opening it. Their suits would judge the air and if it was toxic to their bodies, as they slowly surveryed the area, using the shipwreck as a cover.
A hand lifted a small vial of wax from a burner and poured it onto a letter. Grabbing a stamp, the hand flipped it to align the cipher and pushed it into the wax. After a few seconds, the stamp was lifted. Revealing a purple seal, with a crown and opposing Tiger and Lion, and in the center an SRI initial. Picking up a phone, a claw pushed a button at the bottom of the gilded handle.
“I’m ready now.” An old and tired voiced spoke into the phone.
“Yes, majesty.” The receiver was set down.
The doors to the room opened swiftly, and a human with receding hair and a well groomed moustache in an all black morning suit entered the room. “Would you like the curtains opened? Tea?”
“No thank you, Reginald,” the old voice spoke, “But perhaps some sun would do me good, fetch my Lady’s Maid and the doctor. I’d like to be checked before the event.”
“At once, majesty.” He took the letter and left the room. On the way out he snapped his fingers and a servant in a tuxedo ran over. “Fetch the first lady’s maid and send for the doctor.” The servant bowed and ran off. The man then headed for a nearby stairwell, and briskly walked down the carpeted stairs. He walked through many hall ways before coming to a covered driveway. A different servant wearing a long coat and tophat was sitting on a wooden chair. “To the porte-cochère.” The man in the coat bowed his head and took the letter. Tucking it into a leather case, he grabbed an umbrella that was leaning against his chair and hopped into the sidecar of motorcycle. The vehicle sputtered to life as it drove down a gravel driveway, across the approach to the palace, past the fountains and grand escalade, and too the Funicular Station. Passing through many iron gates, past many guards, the servant boarded the funicular which jolted and started a steady descent down. Reaching the bottom of the hill with a ding he approached a door and slid it open. Stepping away from the funicular, he approached a small wooden office. Stepping out from the office was yet another servant, wearing a waistcoat and trousers with no jacket. The servant in the coat handed the leather case to the man in the waistcoat who nodded briskly and headed into the office. The man in the coat turned and headed back to the funicular while the one with the case grabbed a phone handle.
“Bring up a car and courier to the porte-cochère, yes, yes. Enfilade and Turning Catch. Yes, that’s right you heard the right code. Now step too, man.” He hung up the phone.
A minute later a black coupe drove into the porte-cochere from deeper in the underground carpark. Two men were inside, both wearing top hats, frock coats, and cloaks. The man in the waistcoat handed the passenger the leather case.
“This is going to the golden mountain, urgently.” The gate of the cochère opened and the car took off down the street. The imperial standard on the flag flapped in the wind as the black car with purple accents sped down King Henry Boulevard. It reached Dunkleshire in about forty five minutes and boarded a waiting ethership docked in a jetty. Onboard the ship was a small compliment of Imperial Marines as well as the two agents.
The ship reached Heord with haste, having used etherfoils to scream across the lanes on urgent business. As the ship approached Iammelonain space, the captain signaled Union communications.
“Union Etherlane Traffick Control, this is the HIMY Queen of Maryburgh. I carry two representatives of Her Imperial Majesty, Shanalotte. They have urgent business with Lord, er, President Tyfrondor. Hysebarrow Palace sent a communication informing you of our intent. Advise and confirm the meeting of representatives’ destination is the Golden Mountain on Heord and not Government House on Javalus, over.”
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