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Aerlanica wrote:-snip-

Ameli nodded.
"Definitely!"
(If she was still looking, she still would not notice a change.)

******

When they left, Vara sighed and turned to Moonglow.
"You can stay here. I'm going for a walk. Keep Echo here for me, okay?"

******

Eveline grimaced slightly and nodded.
"Alright, let's do it."

******

The girl sighed.
"This is the best there is. A servant, paid in food, clothing, and housing - but very little of each."
She quickly and worriedly looked to Nelly.
"Not that I don't appreciate it, of course! The Royal Emperor has graciously provided me with sustenance, and I am honored to be able to serve..." the line sounded quite forced "...but...I do also wish I could go...anywhere but here, be anything but this, maybe be something more than a servant who will be forgotten the day I walk down the wrong street and get cut up and thrown in the gutter."

******

Carmelia was likewise finished and went to rest.

******

They were safely escorted out. They were also offered a military escort to the edge of Talide territory.

Tyramon wrote:

They were safely escorted out. They were also offered a military escort to the edge of Talide territory.

Tabitha frowned.
"Well, come over and take a look." Tabitha said. "Tell me what you see."

She stepped back and gave her a smile, pretending that everything was normal.

******

Moonglow nodded in response, and nuzzled Echo briefly. Soon, she flopped onto her side after finding a safe space in clear view of Echo as the pups rushed over to be nursed by her. Echo would notice that in this state, both Moonglow and the pups were very vulnerable.

******

"Look, if you don't want to it's fine, but if you do, we'll head to the kitchen." Ann said genuinely, giving Eveline a friendly look.

******

"I understand...many of my girls share similar sentiments; they feel like mere objects instead of women...however, I make a note to make sure they feel very, very special, and very, very pretty."

Nelly gave the girl a smile and cupped her cheeks.

"If ever you are in danger, or if ever you need my services, or even if you are in danger-" she kissed her forehead, "-cry out my name, "Nelly", and I will be there."

The girl laughed.

"It probably won't be worth much in an alley-"

"You never know...I might be just around the corner." Nelly said with a warm smile. "I do enjoy lurking around every now and then...now."

She stood up and clasped her hands.

"You look like a mess; let's get you cleaned up, shall we?"

******

The cave grew silent aside from the occasional changing of the sentry, before the dawn light streamed through the enterance.

Hawthorne took it upon himself to serve as the final sentry, and was first to rouse the others from their slumber.

"Alright, up and at 'em, we got a big day ahead of us so let's hop to it."

*******

Princess Kressidia bid them farewell, and graciously accepted. Soon, the grendels had left Talide territory, and marched east.

** *** **

It was no more than seven days later when the border guards gazed upon a group bearing the same banner the princess described. Amongst their number was, once again, Princess Kressidia who now sported a nasty gash across her cheek, and a more regal looking individual who bore gleaming chain mail armour beneath a talbard with similar heraldry, and a crown-helmet combo that marked him as a king. There were fifty royal guards and three hundred conventional troops, while several diplomats and handmaidens were also present.

Aerlanica wrote:"Please, just call me Amelia; I'm not a ma'am since I work for a living." She said with a laugh. "See? I'll show you mine."

She produced her own tag and offered it for the girl to read.

"So that's my initials; A. H. which stands for Amelia Henrietta, my last name is there; South. Right here's my serial number."

"What's the three letters there?"

"That's my race; the AER stands for Aerlanican, the Lazarin have LAZ, that's the lizard people, and SHA stands for Shakar-"

"That is us." Said the female caprine-human hybrid, puffing out her chest and standing up straighter with pride.

"And the numbers?"

"000-098-774? That's what number I am, so I'm the Ninety-Eight thousandth, Seven hundred and seventy fourth member of the Aerlanican Federal Navy.

"Then my blood type, which is B+, followed by, well, NAVY."

She gently took it out of the girls hands and slipped it down her fatigues once more.

"It's so people know who we are and so we don't get mixed up with other people."

While this conversation was under way, the officer approached the other man.

"Well, ain't this fancy," He murmured, "Looks like you folk are a right ol' bag of tricks, aren't you? What's next, you got a cure for cancer in your back pocket?"

Apparently this girl had quite the runny period for questions when it came to Amelia and the personal information revolving around this woman and the way identification works there. Genuinely surprised the social security number wasn't given too, not that the girl could or would do anything with that.

Nethertheless, with the nature of social boundaries being shot down by confetti rounds, she considered it'd be fair if she gave her name as well. Though with respect of her family, only her first name. And her name's, "Yimmi, named after my second aunty," the girl responds with a cheeky little grin.

"I'll be nine years old in a couple of months,~" she added with that same energy. But with care not to add too much stress to the ongoing translation process. Operating in real-time instead of message mode is really kicking it, say with all of the people present who're speaking.

Compared to Yimmi's overall cheeriness, Laith's demeanor carries a significant amount of seriousness during what he considers "watch duty". And it looks like he'll have to deal with an assortment of questions as well. Not that he minds very much.

"That is assuming I'd bother with jesting when it comes to our cure," he responds with a questionable but mostly respectful tone, eluding to the fact of there is indeed a cure for that condition here. "Also, to properly administer the solution that'll deal with the diabetes, be sure to place the adhesive underside just below the nape of the neck. The tool will do the rest," Laith explains as he removes one the wooden receptacles from the exposed shelve, handing it over to the officer.

Galliadurm wrote:-snip-

Amelia gave Yimmi a smile and nodded.

"Well, I'm a whole twenty six years old," She said with similar excited emotion and matching Yimmi's enthusiasm, "And I wasn't really named after anyone, just myself."

Amelia brushed a stray hair out of her face before she looked to Yimmi.

"Do you have a big family? Yimmi?" she asked politely.

The officer, who is yet to reveal his name, gave a perplexed look to Laith.

"Wait, you...you have a cure for cancer? Nevermind ah...so just...place this thing at the back of their neck?"

He picked up the device and investigated it.

"So what exactly is this called? What does...how does it work?"

Laith raised an eyebrow.

"You've quite a few questions." He said.

"Well it feels like we've landed feet first into the future...I mean that with the utmost respect, sir, but...well...it's hard not to have questions."

Aerlanica wrote:Amelia gave Yimmi a smile and nodded.

"Well, I'm a whole twenty six years old," She said with similar excited emotion and matching Yimmi's enthusiasm, "And I wasn't really named after anyone, just myself."

Amelia brushed a stray hair out of her face before she looked to Yimmi.

"Do you have a big family? Yimmi?" she asked politely.

The officer, who is yet to reveal his name, gave a perplexed look to Laith.

"Wait, you...you have a cure for cancer? Nevermind ah...so just...place this thing at the back of their neck?"

He picked up the device and investigated it.

"So what exactly is this called? What does...how does it work?"

Laith raised an eyebrow.

"You've quite a few questions." He said.

"Well it feels like we've landed feet first into the future...I mean that with the utmost respect, sir, but...well...it's hard not to have questions."

"Between mama and papa, there is only me and my two older brothers. Our family beyond us is another story.. I have way too many cousins. Not that that is a problem, it's just I can hardly ever remember their names," this child's honesty spills out into a mini rant before Amelia. And just when Yimmi believed she was finished, another thought flashed past her,

"..As the older man said, if we're from the future, what does that make you?" a genuine question Yimmi has for Amelia and the officer, possibly the others who were present too. The claim legitimately threw her off, shifting attentions and all that.

Sentiments Laith shared with the young girl as he steadily works past the urge to glare at this officer's vessel, the one he and the others came down from space in.

Thankfully, the officer's attention shifted over to the device he retrieved from Laith's open hand. He now has a chance to shift as well.. for the moment.

"I presume you've seen an injector before, think of this device in the same light but without the needles."

Laith continues, "Once you've placed the device on that area of your body, I would prefer you'd have one of your own do it for you, it will begin to administer doses of the solution inside of it. Throughout regular intervals, say anywhere between 8 to 11 minutes."

..And he continues, "You won't have to worry about removing the device after its done, it'll either fall off on its own or stick somewhat to your shirt."

Explanation end.

Hey look, it appears as though they've chatted through the morning. It's almost noon now.

Galliadurm wrote:-snip-

Indeed, the noon-day sun rose high above them, but it carried with it a slew of other things.

As Ameli opened her mouth to reply, there was a crunching sound behind them. Ameli instantly grasped her rifle, pushed Yimmi behind her, and aimed in the direction, as Laith was maneuvered slightly forcibly behind the "crate" as the officer raised his rifle at the sound. The two Lazarin, as they were revealed to be called, set up position behind a few trees, while the Shakar found firing positions behind a few overgrown roots.

"Smoke." The officer called out, his voice carrying the growl of authority.

A pause.

"Flame." Came the reply.

The atmosphere eased as another squad of the strangers emerged from the brush. It consisted mainly of humans, with a Lazarin and Shakar accompanying them. The squad officer appeared to be another male, this one with a rather crude bionic eye.

"Harrison you forgot to report back in you bloody moron, did you leave your brain before you left?" The officer of this new group said harshly to the officer of the group talking to Laith.

"Rhyce," came the annoyed reply from Harrison, "you wouldn't know a brain if it jammed itself down your August-Damned throat you half-breed fool."

"At least it'd be the only organ being jammed down my throat." Rhyce replied, with similar venom.

The approached each other and...embraced?

They both withdrew and smiled at one another.

"Glad to see the captain gives a damn about me." Harrison said with a smile.

"Don't flatter yourself; manpower is a premium on this rock." Rhyce said with a roll of his eyes as he patted Harrison's shoulder. "Any luck with the water?"

"No dice," Harrison said with a sigh, "but we met the people inside the insects; they gave us some cool...cure for diabetes."

"A cure for diabetes?"

Harrison nodded and led Rhyce over to the crate, showing off the injector devices.
"Slap one on the back of your neck and in ten minutes your a new person." Harrison replied.

"But that's a genetic disease...what is this, science fiction?" Rhyce asked.

"You fell out of the sky," Laith said, "In a steel vessel."

Rhyce paused, then nodded.

"Thats fair...hell, maybe if people stopped trying to wipe us all out we'd be able to get some stuff like that...maybe invent a cure for cancer."

"Already done." Laith said; the strangers were beginning to grate on him, and his patience was wearing very thin with these borish, uncouth spacefarers, with primitive technology and a militarised atmosphere about them.

"Well how about that," Rhyce said with a smile, "looks like we crash landed in Heaven; you should be proud of your people's achievements."

"Speaking of these lovely people; we've taken up enough of their time. We should get this miracle cure back to the Persistence before people get worried about us."

Harrison turned to Laith, and extended a hand.

"Thank you, sir, for everything you've done. It means a lot to us; once we radio home, we'll organise a pick up and we'll be out of your hair as soon as we can and maybe leave behind a little 'thank-you' as well as compensation for environmental damages."

Aerlanica wrote:The Aerlanicans let out a slight laugh this time.

"Well sucks to be those assholes." Another Aerlanican called.

"So you're "working" for COURIER?"

******

The Rangers sighed and hung back; it wasn't their fight, and it'd be best to let the Bandervissians deal with this problem themselves.

“Nope! Just looking for new and exciting ways to cause chaos, and if they want to give recommendations, hey, good for them!”
*****
A couple Oatserians stuck around for a bit longer to watch them enter the main castle, with a faint scream being heard from the inside.
Malin was dead.
They headed back to Raziel to report.

Aerlanica wrote:Indeed, the noon-day sun rose high above them, but it carried with it a slew of other things.

As Ameli opened her mouth to reply, there was a crunching sound behind them. Ameli instantly grasped her rifle, pushed Yimmi behind her, and aimed in the direction, as Laith was maneuvered slightly forcibly behind the "crate" as the officer raised his rifle at the sound. The two Lazarin, as they were revealed to be called, set up position behind a few trees, while the Shakar found firing positions behind a few overgrown roots.

"Smoke." The officer called out, his voice carrying the growl of authority.

A pause.

"Flame." Came the reply.

The atmosphere eased as another squad of the strangers emerged from the brush. It consisted mainly of humans, with a Lazarin and Shakar accompanying them. The squad officer appeared to be another male, this one with a rather crude bionic eye.

"Harrison you forgot to report back in you bloody moron, did you leave your brain before you left?" The officer of this new group said harshly to the officer of the group talking to Laith.

"Rhyce," came the annoyed reply from Harrison, "you wouldn't know a brain if it jammed itself down your August-Damned throat you half-breed fool."

"At least it'd be the only organ being jammed down my throat." Rhyce replied, with similar venom.

The approached each other and...embraced?

They both withdrew and smiled at one another.

"Glad to see the captain gives a damn about me." Harrison said with a smile.

"Don't flatter yourself; manpower is a premium on this rock." Rhyce said with a roll of his eyes as he patted Harrison's shoulder. "Any luck with the water?"

"No dice," Harrison said with a sigh, "but we met the people inside the insects; they gave us some cool...cure for diabetes."

"A cure for diabetes?"

Harrison nodded and led Rhyce over to the crate, showing off the injector devices.
"Slap one on the back of your neck and in ten minutes your a new person." Harrison replied.

"But that's a genetic disease...what is this, science fiction?" Rhyce asked.

"You fell out of the sky," Laith said, "In a steel vessel."

Rhyce paused, then nodded.

"Thats fair...hell, maybe if people stopped trying to wipe us all out we'd be able to get some stuff like that...maybe invent a cure for cancer."

"Already done." Laith said; the strangers were beginning to grate on him, and his patience was wearing very thin with these borish, uncouth spacefarers, with primitive technology and a militarised atmosphere about them.

"Well how about that," Rhyce said with a smile, "looks like we crash landed in Heaven; you should be proud of your people's achievements."

"Speaking of these lovely people; we've taken up enough of their time. We should get this miracle cure back to the Persistence before people get worried about us."

Harrison turned to Laith, and extended a hand.

"Thank you, sir, for everything you've done. It means a lot to us; once we radio home, we'll organise a pick up and we'll be out of your hair as soon as we can and maybe leave behind a little 'thank-you' as well as compensation for environmental damages."

Both Yimmi and Laith didn't put much up against the collective efforts to move them out of harms way, though of course Yimmi reacted a little bit more fearfully. Would've been more than just a fearful response had it not been for Amelia's presence and the voice speaking directly to her through subtle channels; the people behind the still active portal who were observing the brief altercation.

Laith and the majority of the people who observed that bromance understood there wasn't really any danger involved, seeing as either side seemed strategic enough to not let their words do the talking. They come off as people who're more collected than that. This could just be Laith's assumption though may likely be wrong, it isn't like he knows these individuals all that well.

Yimmi on the other hand was on edge and was preparing to run back through the portal had things got smokey. But when she was about to pivot and flee, the two she assumed to be enemies then embraced one another. After all that foul-tongued banter. Relaxation gradually took hold of her as she continues to look from behind Amelia's thigh.. she short.

While behind Amelia's thigh, she was about to speak up and say something to her "guardian beef" before hearing Laith respond to the two the way he did. When Laith gets like this, it's only a matter of time before he ups and leaves. With that said, the other narrator's depiction of him viewing these spacefarers and their technology as "primitive", "boorish", and "uncouth" couldn't be further from the truth. These insults never crossed his mind, the man is fed up solely because he's tired. Having been robbed of a beautiful dream of milk and mountains due to the crashing sound their vessel made when it made contact.

Evident by the odd glare he was giving both Officer Rhyce and Officer Harrison as they were divulging gratitudes. He tried his best not to appear dismissive when Harrison turned to him and said what he said. But giving how tired he is, Laith decided to spare but a handful of words and a handshake which saw him grab ahold onto Harrison's wrist as he would've done his hand, and shook.

"With respect, don't think much on the compensations. When you move the vessel, we'll get on with healing what's been done. Don't you worry," Laith said with a faint smile, a smile obscured by the latest attempt to prevent himself from yawning. Something he has been holding down quite well up and to this point.

"..Do they always do that?" Yimmi gingerly asks Amelia, directing her sights onto the lady.

While this was happening, the probes in the distance were retreating back into the active portal. The majority of them at least. The few who were tasked with remaining to continue observing the situation at hand soon displaced themselves from view. This done with no "special effects". If any of them were paying attention to the probes, they'd see them seamlessly slide to the side in the air and vanish. As if slipping through an invisible door. Finally, the single probe that was providing its services as a conduit between that part of the forest and the camp did not deactivate the portal conjured from them. It was to remain until both Yimmi and Laith returns safely.

Aerlanica wrote:-snip-

Roxium wrote:-snip-

Kemptburge Chunk

"No; worried that I won't be able to afford a gift for you and rent." It was a sly line on Stefan's behalf. "Working for the PSB doesn't make you rich."

"You think I'm rich?!" Marla almost fell over with laughter despite the situation at hand.

"You think I'm rich?!" He retorted with a grin. "I'll bet you ten dollars because I'm feeling magnanimous!"

"So that's what this is called!" Cackled Marla as Stefan handed her a crisp ten-dollar bill, American money.

"You said ten dollars, there you are. Payable to the bearer upon demand and backed by one of the most powerful institutions in the known universe. They make the Roxian central government look like a pathetic joke, or so I've heard." Stefan elaborated as Marla studied the money with a confused glimpse in her eyes.

"Where the hell did you get this?" She asked.

"I went on vacation to Washington D.C. a few months ago. My brother works as a university professor there for a prestigious university." Stefan replied nonchalantly.

"I've never seen this kind of money before..." Said Marla as her voice monetarily trailed off before returning as she read: "The United States of America."

"Keep it. It's your bet, and with my luck, you'll probably win." Responded Stefan.

"What's that?" Suddenly Marla asked, pointing towards a black box with wires strewn from it, lying at the bottom of a stairwell.

"I don't know." Stefan got up and walked towards the black box.

"What does it say?" Asked Marla.

"It's a mobile field telegraph, made in Monsone. The builder's plate says it's from 1977." Reading the labels on the black box, Stefan translated them for Marla, who stared over his shoulder. "This is definitely an army-issue device; nobody has used a telegraph in Monsone since the late 1940s for communication outside of the armed forces."

"Does it work?" She asked.

"I don't know. I'll try." He said while flicking a switch, which illuminated a green light on the box and was followed by an audible metal click that unlocked the telegraph key.

"Is that a good thing?"

"Yes. It works." Was Stefan's response as he donned the set's headphones and raised the built-in antenna.

"There aren't any tunning knobs." Marla suddenly observed.

"It's locked onto military-owned encrypted frequencies," Stefan noted while staring at the device.

"Useless then. It won't be able to call for backup." Noted Marla as Stefan sighed.

"The Monsonians are better than nobody when it comes to evacuations, assuming they can even find us, and this device can actually reach beyond this place," Stefan noted. "Let me send an SOS signal out."

He began to tap on the key, producing no external sound. The system was designed to only channel the transmission noise into the user's headset. Only a silent and barely audible click accompanying his hand motions signaled the transmission of a message. For a minute straight, he tapped the same three letters over and over, before finally stopping. He removed part of the headset, leaving his left ear covered by the headphone set.

"Did it work?" Asked Marla.

"I really don't know." Stefan shook his head.

---------------------------------------------------

Somewhere In Space

"Distress signal; Monsonian military device. Emanating from what appears to be another dimension." A navigation officer stated while reading their screen and staring at the bright red flashing warning that read: Emergency.

"Calculate a route." Replied in turn the ship's captain as they paced on the bridge.

"Calculations in process. Expect results in five minutes." Responded another navigation officer as they typed away on a keyboard, plotting waypoints and directions.

"Raise reactor temperatures and increase combustant flow in all four loops. Prepare for a light-speed jump. Get the medical bays ready in case of casualties." Another order emanated from the captain's mouth as the bridge engineers prepared the ship's propulsion system.

"We don't know from who or what this message has been sent. All we know is that it's a Monsonian device. This could very well be a trick, perhaps even a trap." Warned an officer while straightening their peaked cap. "We should exercise caution and not act rashly and without thought unless we seek death."

"Don't be so poetic." Chided the captain.

"Course plotted!" Barked the first aviation officer.

"Drive ready!" An engineer followed.

"Be careful!" The officer warned.

"We've got enough weapons on this ship to destroy Augusta several times. We'll be fine." Replied the captain before shouting: "Full steam ahead! We leave now!"

---------------------------------------------------

Suddenly, an electric clicking noise filled the headset and immediately Stefan pulled out a pen and a small notepad. Furiously, he scribbled words out. Then, he threw off the headset and got up, handing the small notepad to Marla in the process. She simply glanced at it with confusion, the handwriting on it was illegible.

"Your handwriting is terrible." She remarked.

"Sorry." Stefan smiled. "But I didn't have much time. The person on the other end was clearly using a keyboard transmitter and that's a nightmare to try and keep up with."

"So what does it say?" Marla asked.

"A Monsonian ship is going to come and evacuate the injured. it seems that they know where we are and how to reach us. Clearly, this telegraph is more powerful than it appears." Explained Stefan. "It can transmit across dimensions."

"Are you sure it was a Monsonian ship?" Asked Marla, a look of concern crossing her face.

"Locked transmission system. Unless someone highjacked all military channels, it likely was." Stefan said before his face went blank with horror. "I potentially have made a fatal mistake."

Buenos Aires, Argentina

"House arrest until trial. I must say, a mistake given that this is a lovely city, even if I do quite like my house here." Erich said from a patio armchair while reading a book. A thin black collar was evident around his neck, with a red square at the very front which glowed if ever so slightly in the midday sun. "Still, thank goodness for grocery delivery applications."

"Is this a joke to you?" Asked Michael as they stared at Erich, whose eyes were converted by dark sunglasses. "Does this amuse you?"

"Yes, it does." He replied before taking a sip of coffee. "Immensely so, actually. While your sorry arse has sought out evidence against me, I've been here sipping Malbec and eating churrasco three times a day. Sure, I can't leave and walk the streets, but that hasn't stopped me from enjoying life and taking advantage of this excellent house I purchased some time ago."

"Do you solely think about pleasure and gluttony?" Michael couldn't help but ask.

"No. I wrote several checks to charity this morning and signed several documents pledging to decarbonize my companies within the next five years. Then I gave a virtual talk at LSE about ethical international business. And then I donated money to several selected political candidates with pro-labor and pro-environmental agendas which I strongly support." Erich retorted.

"The trial is in one week." Suddenly Michael said, causing a shiver to go down Erich's spine.

"Right." He nodded.

"Effectively you and I both know what the outcome will be." They continued.

"Yes, rigged from the outset," Erich remarked.

"We can both avoid this circumstance if you'll accept a plea deal." Warned Michael.

"My lawyers flatly refused your prior terms, and for good reason." Noted Erich.

"The terms are clear and fair for the restoration of universal order and balance." Explained Michael as Erich shook his head and put down the book he was reading.

"I'm not going to make a concession here; I'm innocent. My recent track record is clearly verifiable in demonstrating a commitment to the benefit of all living begins. The same cannot be said for most if not all Celestials. It is in my advantage to take this case to trial and not take one of your pitiful plea bargains that are myopic in scope and punitive in punishment. Try as you will, my answer is final and permanent: no." Emphasized Erich.

"Damnit Erich, why are you shooting yourself in the foot, you stubborn man?" Michael asked as they gestured into the air summoning a scroll and a pen.

"Because I've changed. Sure, once upon a time these punishments and terms were merited, I will grant you that. But now, I've radically changed and your institution hasn't. In mere decades, the world forgave the worst atrocities, I would imagine that nearly six centuries should have done the same for me. I am the reason things aren't worse on this planet. I am the reason things have begun to change for the better. I am the reason humanity isn't yet doomed to a pitiful fate. Iblion is the opposite of that. If breaking universal order and balance is what it takes to provide a level and fair playing field for everybody, then perhaps the sacrifice is worth making. You may not care about humans or lesser beings, but in the end, I do, and would rather die than betray them." Responded Erich in a cold tone of voice.

"Universal balance, Francis, universal balance. My job is to keep it, and make sure you and others don't break it." Warned Michael as Erich simply chuckled maliciously.

"Be careful what you wish for, Michael. Be careful who you threaten. Higher powers may be on your side, but morality and truth certainly aren't. This trial may make your biggest mistake to date, and I will pity the backlash it will bring you." Erich said before getting up from the chair, and walking into the house.

Monsone wrote:*SNIP*

(Also pinging Aerlanica)

Rukhmar-Alpha 1 Twisting Nether Rift, at about the same time the Monsonen ship received the distress signal

"Hostiles at H 332, E 77, Range 3,100 km and closing. Target priority BETA!"

"Main battery group A locking on!"

"ALPHA priority target 2 destruction confirmed!"

"Lock-on complete! Opening fire!"

The group of Roxium United Armed Force ships requested by Cicada fight their way into the rift leading into the Twisting Nether.

HAA Longinus, vicinity of the Kemptburge Chunk

"Evac group has entered the Rift. ETA to the Chunk is 40 minutes." says a female tactician. Inaki and the other Cicada/NERV Taskforce commanders have taken up position in the Longinus's Operations Command Center, a large room filled with command consoles and status screens. towards one end of the room is a massive multi-layer 3D holographic display. (The Operations Command Center looks something like this: https://64.media.tumblr.com/fb84c3addf391504f1f1bc480ecb4e54/tumblr_oo2lqkS8Nv1up92cxo3_1280.png) "I estimate it will take around an hour to evacuate all civilians from the Chunk. This is based on a rough estimation of the Chunk's civilian population, the available shuttle landing space, the Evac group's number of shuttles, and average shuttle passenger capacity." says Risato. "As we don't have an accurate headcount, I suggest adding 15 minutes to that." says Inaki. After a brief pause, Inaki says "We might need to find a way of speeding up the evacuation. It's only a hunch, but the DDR might be holding back. There's a possibility that they're waiting for an opportunity or signal to make use of newly-created weapons of unknown potential."
"And what makes you think that?" asks Risato. "There are reports among Cicada intelligence of the DDR ensnaring Primaeri fleets and planets in rifts to the Twisting Nether during the Primaeri War. I'm fairly certain that they've since reverse-engineered Primaeri technology. The longer we stay in the Twisting Nether, the more likely it is the DDR will use potentially reverse-engineered Primaeri weapons against us." says Inaki.

Kemptburge Chunk

"All groups be advised. An Evac fleet is en-route to the Chunk, ETA 40 minutes." says a commander over the global C-COM channel.

Spencer hears the radio of one of the Cicada agents by the door say "Op C (Operations Command) has ordered the clearance of landing zones in the immediate vicinity of the Hospital!"

As of now, the Taskforce is unaware that Marla and Stephan managed to contact a Monsonen ship.

???

"The Master grows impatient." says a demonic voice. "We can't retrieve the Boy until-" says a female demonic voice before being cut off. "The Master demands results!" yells the first voice. "I feel it's time for us to use the Mal'Prim." "Using the Mal'Prim in its current state is ill-advised. It would almost certainly kill the Boy." says the female demonic voice. "The Master is willing to take that risk if it means removing a possible obstacle to our ultimate goal."

Oateria wrote:-snip-

"You do realise to them, you're just a weapon."

"Yeah! Howabout you make friends with the Federal Government Proper...well...wherever they are."

*******

So too did the rangers, relaying the information to the Aerlanics as well.

A messanger advised the king to redeploy his troops to conduct raids against the Mongolyn.

Galliadurm wrote:

Amelia nodded with a laugh.

"It's a sorta...sorta unspoken rule to give your mates a hard time," Amelia explained, "After all, what's the point of living if you don't got thick skin?

"Besides, there's an argument to be made about the cathartic benefits of insulting a person who knows you don't mean it."

Yimmi paused.

"So...in your...where you come from, friends insult each other?" Yimmi asked.

Amelia laughed and nodded.

"When we're mucking around we will sling a slur or two, but when push comes to shove you're there for each other, no matter what; mates fight both with, and alongside, their mates."

Meanwhile, Harrison nodded at Laith, raising an eyebrow at the grasped wrist, but copying Laith's actions. The hand of the stranger was rough and calloused, marking a considerable time spent participating in hard work and strenuous physical activity.

"Well, hopefully we don't leave you with much of a mess to clean up," He said with a smile and a wink, "we'd hate to have our first impressions be poor ones."

Harrison looked around and nodded.

"Alright lads, let's get back to Hotel Crashtown," Harrison ordered, "Amelia, say your goodbyes ok?"

Amelia turned over her shoulder, and lookeed to Yimmi.

"Stay safe out there, ok? Hate for there to be more informations on that Torq of yours."

The crate was sealed as the strangers prepared to leave.

Monsone wrote:-snip-

Marla looked to Stefan as she slowly and gingerly slotted what she thought was a fake bill of money into a pocket before raising an eyebrow at her PSB counterpart.

"Uh...ok just so you know the whole...'I have potentially made a fatal mistake' doesn't do wonders to fill me with confidence."

Marla looked through the open hole in the ceiling.

"Stefan...be honest...have you ordered...have you ordered a giant mega death gun to blow us into the next dimension?"

"Not every nation has a giant "mega death gun" as you describe." Stefan replied, taking a seat.

This failed to comfort Marla, who nodded slowly.

"Stefan, does that imply we're about to be hit by something that is not a giant mega death gun...say, perhaps, hundreds of smaller, but still large, death guns? Or maybe a giant f%$#-off rocket?"

Meanwhile, Spencer was being, well, Spencer; focusing in on himself, he and Alena had been back and forth arguing.

"...Because I can't!" Spencer exclaimed, "All the spell equations i've made that are that strong require an immense amount of components that I don't have! Any way I could do it will not work!"

"Spencer! Forget the components! Just cast and weave the spells! It's not all about equations and spells-"

"It is! It is because I've proven it! Magic isn't natural, it's mathematical! It adheres to rules! I found that out! I've done exaustive research! I have reached this conclusion through the scientific method a million and one times! You cannot tell me what I know to be true is false!"

******

Roxium wrote:

Kemptburge Chunk

"All groups be advised. An Evac fleet is en-route to the Chunk, ETA 40 minutes." says a commander over the global C-COM channel.

???

"The Master grows impatient." says a demonic voice. "We can't retrieve the Boy until-" says a female demonic voice before being cut off. "The Master demands results!" yells the first voice. "I feel it's time for us to use the Mal'Prim." "Using the Mal'Prim in its current state is ill-advised. It would almost certainly kill the Boy." says the female demonic voice. "The Master is willing to take that risk if it means removing a possible obstacle to our ultimate goal."

The first few ships that reach the rift go through ok and without issue as Iblion simply watches, and then leaves.

******

Azalea tries to help out as best she can, but without an AT field, and without any combat experience, she's pretty useless. However what she lacks in skill and abilities, she makes up for in determination, and so she soldiers on, assisted by her other comrades who are by now perplexed by this strange new pilot who insists that they aren't a pilot, and are infact the EVA.

Inaki and Risato would notice this, and while the other pilots are skeptical, it is only a matter of time before they discover that the voice from this pilot called "Azalea" is inside their head, and not coming from any radio transmitter.

******

For the DDR, reverse engineering the Primaeri tech was tricky, however after observing some of the combats during the Primaeri War, they quickly kidnapped an Aerlanican and copied the Royal biocode, despite it being unstable and quickly decaying with no way to replicate it.

It was no matter, however; the DDR worked quickly, and soon Zero-Point energy, a plethora of genetic engineering techs, high powered plasma weaponry rivaling even weapons fielded by the most advanced nations of the Galactic Union, and all manner of vessel designs...a gold mine of techn propelled the DDR forward in their technology immensly thanks to the fact they had the resources to do so, and the ethics (or lack thereof) to pursue very dangerous experiments.

Taking "the boy" would be of little issue, so long as they got there before the main bulk of the Roxium and Monsonian reinforcements arrived.

Aerlanica wrote:Amelia nodded with a laugh.

"It's a sorta...sorta unspoken rule to give your mates a hard time," Amelia explained, "After all, what's the point of living if you don't got thick skin?

"Besides, there's an argument to be made about the cathartic benefits of insulting a person who knows you don't mean it."

Yimmi paused.

"So...in your...where you come from, friends insult each other?" Yimmi asked.

Amelia laughed and nodded.

"When we're mucking around we will sling a slur or two, but when push comes to shove you're there for each other, no matter what; mates fight both with, and alongside, their mates."

Meanwhile, Harrison nodded at Laith, raising an eyebrow at the grasped wrist, but copying Laith's actions. The hand of the stranger was rough and calloused, marking a considerable time spent participating in hard work and strenuous physical activity.

"Well, hopefully we don't leave you with much of a mess to clean up," He said with a smile and a wink, "we'd hate to have our first impressions be poor ones."

Harrison looked around and nodded.

"Alright lads, let's get back to Hotel Crashtown," Harrison ordered, "Amelia, say your goodbyes ok?"

Amelia turned over her shoulder, and lookeed to Yimmi.

"Stay safe out there, ok? Hate for there to be more informations on that Torq of yours."

The crate was sealed as the strangers prepared to leave.

"Thick skin", Yimmi doesn't remember the last time that term was used when it didn't involve the nature of planarian branes. Witnessing it being used in this format did indeed make Yimmi pause and listen to Amelia explain the purpose behind being rough with the ones you love and how that may be conveyed in a positive manner. A concept which isn't foreign to her, of course, but isn't one she has been growing up on.

Speaking of which, the girl's father who waited patiently behind the portal for Yimmi's return probably would've agreed somewhat with this since it was something he got used to dealing with Yimmi's uncles on a daily basis. While he waited with the patience of a person driving on a freeway, the man listened to "Let the night go on forever" by The Promise on his earpiece. A song from the late 1990s still going on strong in the 22nd century.

A little bit of this song could be heard from the other side of the portal by those with keen hearing.

"..Okay then," Yimmi says after letting Amelia finish up with her explanation. Her gaze indicating mixed feelings about this topic. This look was going to be complimented by her realizing Amelia and the crew were about to leave. Having gotten use to this lady's presence, it's safe to say Yimmi was disappointed by this. Believing they were going to stay longer for whatever reason.

Laith on the other hand didn't seem all that bothered by them preparing to leave, as he was about to himself. But this gets halted when he hears "Hotel Crashtown". What is this place? "Question, is "Hotel Crashtown" another of your established footholds here?" Laith asks of Officer Harrison after briefly closing his eyes and keeling his head to the side a little bit.

"Huh? The more information on this torq, the better. More will be added next week during my next appointment," Yimmi says with a sliver of a pout. Her arms now being raised to be settled behind her head where her hands were clasped.

Yimmi didn't believe this to be a bad thing, that is the purpose of the device after all. The collecting of synchronized medical data of the individual its connected to, a process that continue for as long as they are alive.

Aerlanica wrote:"You do realise to them, you're just a weapon."

"Yeah! Howabout you make friends with the Federal Government Proper...well...wherever they are."

*******

So too did the rangers, relaying the information to the Aerlanics as well.

A messanger advised the king to redeploy his troops to conduct raids against the Mongolyn.

"Weapons are fun! And again, I'm not doing this because anybody TOLD me to, I'm doing it because..." Mandrat hopped out of her seat and summoned a small rainbow over her head. "It's fun!" The letters F, U and N appeared over her as the bus freewheeled off the road, spinning around and bouncing into an Aerlanican road gently, to the Aerlanican protests and Snow somehow being even less amused.

*******

Oatseria sent in their armies to take back the garrisons from the Mongolyns.

North South North West Kansas wrote:(Coolio ;P)

Kiki nods. "Works for me. It's about bedtime for the kiddos anyways." She looks at Nathan who gives a tired yawn.

Connie laughs softly. "I hope not. I've lived with it for 30 years so I'm used to it by now, but it still kinda sucks."

Wafflepocalypse
Carissa laughs softly, shaking her head. "Alright then, let's do it."

Macy sighs. "I guess so. I just feel like I'm not providing for him the way that I should be."

Kira goes around to the driver's side of the car, pulling out into the road. "Wish I could hold onto you like that forever."

Wafflepocalypse
Gracie scoffs. "Selfish?! I've been alone for more years than I can count, then I make friends and they all leave me behind!" She shakes her head. "I never asked for any of this!" She runs off into the wreckage of the capital city, tears streaming down her face.

Michael falls asleep in Thomas' arms.

"No kidding," Jax rolls his eyes, as he also takes another swig.

"You are. Be there for his school recitals, help me take care of him, and love him. Thats all he needs." Thomas put a hand on her arm.

"Me too." Kyra said.

Wafflepocalypse
"Gracie! Wait!" Casey called, running after her.

Thomas smiled at his son gently.

Kyra nodded.

Aerlanica wrote:The soldier took about a good minute before he spoke.

"The Persistence is F%$#ed; the gyroscopes are fried and three of the four reactors are dead; damage control ain't going to do anything to help us and there's no way we can get a shipyard to us."

He sighed.

"Even if the ship was intact...we wouldn't be able to leave the atmosphere unless you've got half a dozen space tugs around, or one of them Anti-grav devices the Roxium has. Right now we're looking for a source of fresh water, something we can use to help us stay alive while we repair our distress beacon."

By the looks of things...Madylin wasn't working with the Tyramonians; she had separated away with a significant portion of her troops and was, like them, waging a guerilla war. The only difference between the Federalists and Madylin's Cohort was that Madylin was very much an Aerlanican Isolationist after having been more-or-less abandoned by Rei Khan, Monsone, Roxium, hell as the government began collapsing around her, and she desperately tried to avoid the Federation from fracturing, no one helped her.

Irrespective, the bitter Madylin was seeking a genocidal war against Tyramon, wanting to wipe them off the face of the earth as a form of twisted catharsis.

******

The Rangers aimed for the heads, and for a time fought with the Oatserians. However, upon seeing Malin, they broke formation and rode off after her, seeking to cut the head from the snake. A flurry of arrows flew towards her as the Rangers on horseback tried to run her down.

The Aerlanics laughed; the wildfire would drive away all the food and scorch the land; there would be no foraging for the Mongolyn to Have.

The Main force of the Mongolyn was given some respite, however soon, further behind their lines, Rangers held up and torched various caravans leading to the Mongolyn, while the Aerlanics still maintained some form of pressure on the Mongolyn.

*******

"At once."

The ranger left, and soon Fendir and Tavish entered.

"Lillian?" Tavish asked.

"Yes?"

Fendir placed down a book and slid it to Lillian.

"We decided to pay a Bandervissian commander a little visit."

Lillian raised an eyebrow and opened the book. Flicking through the pages, her jaw dropped to the floor.

"But this is-"

"-The entire battle plan for the Banderviss-Mongolyn combined invasion," Fendir said with a smirk, "a jackpot; we know where their targets are, what they'll bypass...hell for a few weeks we're going to be able to make sure they don't go anywhere without someone harassing them."

William nodded.
"Well, let's get underway."

The troupe would begin to change out of their swimmers and into their clothes as Williams eye continued to grow clearer.

*** *** ***

"I know...I'll just pick up some painkillers when we're at town again, that should sort me out." Tsarina sighed.

Wafflepocalypse

As Corey and Darcy sat in their apartment, there came a knock on the door.

Unfortunately for the Rangers, the Mongolyn were now soaking rags and placing them over caravans to stop the smile.

****

Lillian let out a low whistle, looking through them. "Wherever did you happen to get these?" Stuff like this wasn't just handed out.

****
Augusta, Present Day, SPECTER Blacksite
"Finished uploading the consciousness!" someone said. John Doigs eyes fluttered open. "Wha-?" he gasped, breathing in the air.
"Welcome back, Mr. Doig." an agent said. "You can call me Ghost. I lead the little operation to bring you back." he paced the room. "How do you feel?"
"Like someone rammed my head into a truck."
"An unfortunate byproduct of transferring the conciousness into your new supercomputer of a brain. It should go away in a few days." Ghost replied. "Do you know why we brought you back?"
"Not in the slightest." Doig replied, sitting up.
"You are the single most powerful President in Khanian history. You will be allowed to live as you please, but in times of need, we may call for your guidance. Only your family will be able to know the truth. Or those you deem as your family, seeing as you're unmarried and have no children. Do you have those people?"
"...Jonathan Blinds and the Kansan Royal Family."
Aerlanica North South North West Kansas

Roxium wrote:-snip-

Aerlanica wrote:-snip-

Kemptburge Chunk

"Probably not." Stefan tried to say reassuringly. "I sent a distress signal, not a bombing run signal."

"Are you absolutely certain?" Marla raised an eyebrow out of curiosity and concern.

"More certain than no." He replied.

------------------------------------------

Erich's Townhouse, Buenos Aires

"Right, that idiot is gone." He sighed once noticing that Michael had left, and a grin crossed his face. "Now, perhaps I ought to make some bread or check in on the resident moralistic hellspawn. I wonder if he has come to regret shunning me, or is living out his hallucination-induced dreams with the monumental dunces that make up the Navarren deep state. Truly, I swear, if the CIA or NSA were that incompetent, Pax Americana would never have existed. The same can be said for the SIM and the IM given their role in establishing boundaries and maintaining them."

Erich walked towards his office. Stepping inside, he took a seat in the comfortable chair and surveyed his enormous solid mahogany desk. He grabbed one of the solid brass handles, and pulled a drawer open, revealing what looked like a cigar box, and a neat stack of flashcards next to it. The box emerged from the cabinet and was placed on the surface of the desk. Erich flipped two latches at its base and then looked at the label. Montecristo cigars, the box was clearly from the 1980s and bore a label denominated in Soviet rubles. Then, he opened the box's lid.

Inside sat a toolkit of sorts. One thing looked like the combination between a hand drill and a sewing needle, the other looked like a miniaturized crowbar. And the other tools looked like the reusable stainless steel picks used at dental offices. Meanwhile, the inside of the box was graced by a mirror. Erich sighed and grabbed the strange hand-drill-esque tool and a metal pick. He brought both instruments up to the collar he was wearing and began to fidget with the slightly shimmering red square. After a few minutes of picking and prying, he got the top of the square off. Beneath shimmered a chain of runes that moved in different horizontal directions, crossing his neck. Carefully, he aimed the hand-drill-esque tool at the runes, and pressed a button, extending a fine metal needle. Gently, he pressed the needle to the runes and held it there for several minutes. They changed shape and form. Erich then placed the red cover back onto the collar. It looked untampered.

He placed the tools back into the cigar box, and then stowed it away. From the same cabinet, he withdrew a red vinyl box which he promptly opened. Inside was a small reusable syringe and a small glass bottle of clear unlabeled liquid. Unscrewing the cap, he stuck the syringe's needle inside the liquid and filled the syringe up. Then, he closed the bottle and put it back into the box. Erich moved the needle up to his neck--exactly where his jugular vein was--and plunged it in. The pain was monetary as he squeezed the liquid out of the syringe and then withdrew it. He placed the syringe back into the box before promptly sealing the box and placing it back into the cabinet, which he also promptly closed. Then, he laid back in his chair and relaxed, slowed his breathing, and closed his eyes.

------------------------------------------

"...what I know to be true is false!" Spencer shouted through the void as Erich opened his eyes and found himself back in the Twisting Nether. He looked at the scene around him and simply sighed. Even as a fraction of himself--a mere projection facilitated through the use of a hallucinogenic--everything looked horrific. Demons kept advancing, shots rang out, and doctors kept their patients alive while awaiting help. Was this of his making?

Invisible, like a ghost, Erich strolled past Stefan and Marla contemplating their fates, and headed directly for Spencer and Alena. They bickered viciously, and he listened. Everything Spencer said was wrong in his eyes, the facts about magic, mathematics, and science. Erich rolled his eyes and couldn't help but sigh. A naive child, a foolish child. Clearly, he needed help and proper guidance. Blinking, Erich felt himself stretch and left his state of invisibility, popping out of seemingly thin air. Even if it wasn't quite him.

"Did you miss me?" He almost snidely asked, eliciting a cry of horror from Spencer and a yelp of shock from Alena.

"H-how are you here?!" They both simultaneously asked.

"I'm not. This is a hallucinating, or well is it?" Erich quipped before changing the subject. "Spencer, you're wrong about the link between magic and math. Magic is not mathematics, mathematics can explain and be applied to fascets of magic through number theory and theoretical mathematics, but those disciplines don't actually determine or derive the functions of magic, and particularly one's magic. My point is, you aren't me. You don't need to be a mathematician or a scientist to perform magic, it innately is within you. I use those concepts because otherwise, my powers would be weak and oft-useless. I am not a Celestial, nor was I created with a bounty of magical power. My greatest asset is my mind; I mean no disrespect, but yours isn't. Look into your soul and search for what is innately within you and then use it damnit!"

"What if you're wrong?" Asked Spencer tensely. "What if I'm right?"

"I've spent millennia doing this, kid. I may know a bit more about math and science than you do. Trust me on this if you're going to trust me on anything. Anyway, I've got to go now. I've been here for too long." And with that, Erich disappeared as suddenly as he appeared.

------------------------------------------

His eyes shot wide open, and Erich gingerly got up from the chair. He stumbled past his desk and made it to the rear living room-cum-dining room, where he simply fell into a couch. His head was throbbing, and he felt like crap. Using his powers after being restrained for a week was a painful experience, much like the sensation of running until the point of total exertion. It seemed that the feeling was spinning. Slowing, but spinning. Slowing, but spinning. Slowing but spinning. The ceiling came into focus, and Erich breathed a sigh of relief. Drenched in sweat, wearing a partly undone white shirt and thin grey slacks, his stomach churned. He had to get out of here. He couldn't be thrown in prison, at least not yet.

Galliadurm wrote:-snip-

"Oh? "Hotel Crashtown"? Oh no I...I was just calling the crashsite that for no reason." Harrison said. "We're the only ones who crashed here as far as I know."

He seemed concerned at the appearance of Laith.

"You alright? You look a bit tired."

Meanwhile.

Amelia paused, then nodded.

"Well I hope no bad information gets on there at least." She said, amending herself.

Oateria wrote:

Oatseria sent in their armies to take back the garrisons from the Mongolyns.

An Aerlanican siezed the wheel and pressed on the breaks immediately after.

"So what...what is your purpose in life? Just to have fun?"

******

The Aerlanics continued to harrass the Mongolyn supply trains.

Rei Khan wrote:

The wet rags did indeed complicate matters, forcing the Aerlanics to fight their way into camps late at night before throwing torches at the tents and other exposed supplies. The soaked rags were hampering their efforts, but not disuading them; they carried off their duties dilligently.

******

"A Bandervissian Commander who was kind enough to let us take them off his hands." Tavish said with a note of dry, macabe humour."

Monsone wrote:

His eyes shot wide open, and Erich gingerly got up from the chair. He stumbled past his desk and made it to the rear living room-cum-dining room, where he simply fell into a couch. His head was throbbing, and he felt like crap. Using his powers after being restrained for a week was a painful experience, much like the sensation of running until the point of total exertion. It seemed that the feeling was spinning. Slowing, but spinning. Slowing, but spinning. Slowing but spinning. The ceiling came into focus, and Erich breathed a sigh of relief. Drenched in sweat, wearing a partly undone white shirt and thin grey slacks, his stomach churned. He had to get out of here. He couldn't be thrown in prison, at least not yet.

Marla sighed.

"God damnit Stefan, you were going to take me on a date," She teased with a nervous smile, "I know I'm not the best looking gal on Augusta, but still if you didn't want to have dinner with me you could've always said 'No' Instead of dropping half the arsenal of the Monsonian Navy onto us."

She let out a nervous laugh as she continued to aim at the various doors and entrances to the building.

"He...hey Stefan...you mind uh...want to be let in on a secret? On account of our possibly imminent death?"

** **

Spencer, meanwhile, was slightly moved by Erich; His words did carry weight and Spencer did place some credibility in Erich's perspective. Perhaps if Spencer was a more mature adult he would realise that there was no harm in changing his ways at least to give it a try, or recognise that the wisdom divulged by an individual who was most likely being modest about his age and experience was probably a good idea.

But Spencer was Spencer, a young, immature child who grew up without a father, and who lost his mother at age eight, who for a considerable portion of his life had to follow his own path to mixed success at best. Who had, furthermore, did not use scientific experiments in the proper way in which you seek to prove yourself wrong and not right. A combination of Echo Chambers, Confirmation Bias, Cognitive Dissonance and, perhaps most of all, Generalised Anxiety Disorder, had Erich's words enter Spencer's ears, before being hastily brushed aside albeit poorly.

"Who does he know? He doesn't know me! No one knows me better than myself...why do people keep thinking I'm more capable than I am!" Spencer exclaimed, half furious, half upset. "I'm not as strong as you say I am! This is the only way. I know that, and myself, better than everyone else."

"Do you?" Alena asked, "What about Iblion?"

Spencer shuddered at the sound of his Fathers name, before shaking his head.

"He...he doesn't know me."

"He is your father, Spencer, you share his capabilities-"

"He wouldn't be foolish enough to make us peers, this-" he raised the grimoire into the air, "-is the only way I can do magic!"

Spencer was wrong, but it would take something big to change his mind.

Something big that was possibly soon to happen.

*******

Perhaps by providence or luck, a group of individuals had similar beliefs to Erich regarding incarceration.

A doorbell was rung as Erich sat upon his couch. It was his choice whether he answered it.

Aerlanica wrote:*SNIP*

Monsone wrote:*SNIP*

Hospital, Kemptburge Chunk

Erich may or may not have noticed how... quiet the hospital's interior had gotten since he left. The noise of the intense fighting going on outside was barely audible and was VERY muffled. Even in Spencer's room the noise of the battle raging outside was barely audible. While making his way to Spencer's room, he has no doubt overheard the Cicada agents mention something about an incoming Evac group, orders to clear out shuttle landing zones in the hospital's immediate vicinity, and a 'Wide-Area Noise-Suppression Field' having been deployed.
From these nuggets of information, Erich can assume that Inaki is planning on evacuating all the surviving civilians from the Kemptburge Chunk.

Operations Command Center, HAA Longinus

"It may be possible to speed up the evacuation if we can... 'dock' the Evac group's carrier with the Chunk." says Risato. "There's obviously not enough room to land the carrier anywhere on the Chunk, so we'll have to 'dock' it instead." Risato pulls up a top-down view of the Chunk and a to-scale top-down view of the Evac group's carrier on the nearest screen. "The Evac group carrier is a Kaijinaki-class, hull-length 1.1 kilometers." says Risato. On the screen, the Kaijinaki-class carrier is about the same length as the Kemptburge Chunk. "In order to 'dock' with the Chunk, we will need a straight edge for the carrier to pull up alongside." Risato proceeds to highlight the suitable edges of the Kemptburge Chunk. "The actual act of 'docking' will have to be carried out through... unconventional means. As the Chunk has no docking systems, the carrier will have to perform a 'low-speed' side-ways collision with the Chunk, with the Chunk's ground-level being more-or-less level with the hanger outer airlock's floor."

Just then, an alert pops up on the Command Center's main screen. "Unidentified object detected at bearing 87, azimuth 22, distance 4,400 kilometers!"

???

"The Master is deploying the Mal'Prim." says a demonic female voice. "Does he not realize the Boy's value!?!" exclaims a demonic male voice. "He knows the Boy's value, and believes that if he can't have the Boy, no one can." says the female voice. "If the Boy is killed, it would set the Plans very far back." says the male voice. "While our ultimate goal is the same as the Master's, our means of accomplishing it will now have to differ. The Mal'Prim must not be allowed to fire." says the female voice.

A winged female demon stands at the gate to her lair. She says "Looks like I'll have to take matters into my own claws." before taking flight. Seconds later she vanishes in a flash of fel-green magic.

"... How peculiar." says a voice. "The Master may want to know about this."

Roxium wrote:-snip-

Marla and Stefan most likely were distracted by the possibility of immanent annihliation from conventional and unconventional munitions, while Spencer and Alena were still arguing about what Spencer could and could not do. Erich would be glad to not be there; the irresponsible complaints from Spencer who's weight was eroded away by his inability to change his tune, and left little more than annoying white noise.

As such, the muffled hospital fell, quite comically, on metaphorically deaf ears.

** *** **

A meek voice filled the command centre before the alert.

"If you want," Azalea said, "I could see if I can't break off more of the chunk's side to get a larger edge and guide the carrier in? Save us the trouble of using too much guesswork."

The alert came, and Azalea was very confused.

"What's going on? Where is that?"

Aerlanica wrote:"Oh? "Hotel Crashtown"? Oh no I...I was just calling the crashsite that for no reason." Harrison said. "We're the only ones who crashed here as far as I know."

He seemed concerned at the appearance of Laith.

"You alright? You look a bit tired."

Meanwhile.

Amelia paused, then nodded.

"Well I hope no bad information gets on there at least." She said, amending herself.

..That brief period of Laith being worried has left him looking silly now, that should've been obvious from the jump. Oh well, at least there is room for correction as far as being embarrassed is concerned, "Yhrn.. once we part ways, I can put this sluggishness behind me," Laith answered, referring to himself and not this situation. He had other words for that that will not be expressed right now, there is no need.

"Take care," Laith adds as he completes his pivot, now heading over to the active portal behind Yimmi and Amelia at a pace that is fairly moderate. Almost looked like his shoulder was twitching there for a second as he approached. But before entering the portal, "Make sure you don't stay for too long. You know how the Captain is," Laith passively says to Yimmi as his feet went from grass to altered stone.

Yimmi didn't say much in response other than giving a nod and a nervous "heh".

"I can only hope,~" some of that nervousness spilled over onto Yimmi's response to Amelia. In spite of the would-be tone that may have set off alarms in some cases, Yimmi's natural smile creeped back onto her face as she went about moving over to the portal. "Bye bye, Guardian Beef," Yimmi says to Amelia all while snickering at the silly nickname she gave to the soldier before taking her leave.

Once Yimmi was through the portal, the conduit space that was forged then collapsed in on itself; like that one force technique from star wars called "fold space". The insectoid probe simultaneously reassembled itself, gave a nod to Amelia as she was the closest one near it, then drifted off to join the others on the tree nearby.

Aerlanica wrote:

An Aerlanican siezed the wheel and pressed on the breaks immediately after.

"So what...what is your purpose in life? Just to have fun?"

******

The Aerlanics continued to harrass the Mongolyn supply trains.

Mandrat snapped her fingers to put her back in the driver’s seat and the Aerlanican on the ground. She pulled down the PA announcer. “Please do not disturb your-might i add amazing, beautiful-bus driver while the vehicle is in motion.” She let go of the PA. “Somewhat! But also to help people be happy through the old methods of depressing anarchy!”

********

(Gonna wait for Rei Khan on this one)

Galliadurm wrote:-snip-

"By the looks of things, you earned it; well, we'll get out of your hair, have a good one."

Ameli waved Yimmi off and gave her a soft smile.

"Take care shorty." She said with a wink and a smirk, matching Yimmi's response.

The strangers turned to leave, taking their material in tow as the portal closed behind them. Ameli lingered briefly before she too turned and left.

** *** **

With contact having been established, the atmosphere within the crashsite-camp, or Hotel Crashtown as Harrison nicknamed it, was noticably lighter and much more happier; The knowledge of kind, if guarded and secretive, strangers watching over them and giving them miracle cures only thought possible in the realm of fiction has brightened moods and made them feel much more happy. The cures to diabeties are distributed to those who need it, which is a fair portion of the group...an uncharacteristically large portion of the group.

The Shakar of the crashsite manage to catch a live animal, which they bind tightly and carry to a makeshift henge of sorts, in which they dance and sing macabe, somber songs before killing the animal with two quick incisions across the neck. A fire is then made, in which all parts of the animal are eaten, while the scraps are lain over each grave holding a fallen Shakar.

Oateria wrote:-snip-

"Well, don't you have a higher calling?" asked another, "Something to work towards? A long term goal?"

They seemed genuinely confounded with Mandrat, aside from one female who seemed quite interested (infatuated, even) with Mandrat. Possibly on board with this mentality, she raised her voice now.

"Well does she have to have one?" She asked, "I mean, let's be real here, all we've been doing in life is scraping by as of late, why can't we have a little fun? A little time to take the load off?"

Aerlanica wrote:

"Well, don't you have a higher calling?" asked another, "Something to work towards? A long term goal?"

They seemed genuinely confounded with Mandrat, aside from one female who seemed quite interested (infatuated, even) with Mandrat. Possibly on board with this mentality, she raised her voice now.

"Well does she have to have one?" She asked, "I mean, let's be real here, all we've been doing in life is scraping by as of late, why can't we have a little fun? A little time to take the load off?"

(holy crap what if Mandrat accidentally ends up as the sole deity of an evil death cult led by this rebel that ends up being a possible big threat to Augusta, while Mandrat is ending up hindering them, not even realizing that’s what’s happening)

“Exactly! This one knows what she’s talking about. You guys do all the relaxing, I gotcha! Little chaos, little despair, everyone’s happy, you know?”

Aerlanica wrote:"By the looks of things, you earned it; well, we'll get out of your hair, have a good one."

Ameli waved Yimmi off and gave her a soft smile.

"Take care shorty." She said with a wink and a smirk, matching Yimmi's response.

The strangers turned to leave, taking their material in tow as the portal closed behind them. Ameli lingered briefly before she too turned and left.

** *** **

With contact having been established, the atmosphere within the crashsite-camp, or Hotel Crashtown as Harrison nicknamed it, was noticably lighter and much more happier; The knowledge of kind, if guarded and secretive, strangers watching over them and giving them miracle cures only thought possible in the realm of fiction has brightened moods and made them feel much more happy. The cures to diabeties are distributed to those who need it, which is a fair portion of the group...an uncharacteristically large portion of the group.

The Shakar of the crashsite manage to catch a live animal, which they bind tightly and carry to a makeshift henge of sorts, in which they dance and sing macabe, somber songs before killing the animal with two quick incisions across the neck. A fire is then made, in which all parts of the animal are eaten, while the scraps are lain over each grave holding a fallen Shakar.

In spite of obvious reservations, the people who observed this fairly subtle ritual did not easily pass judgement on these actions. Just because they didn't agree with it doesn't mean they will interfere and grand-stand above another's culture. So with idle eyes, they continue to observe these foreigners through the beady little scopes belonging to their insectoid probes. And at the very least, the animal that served as a sacrifice did not suffer. This too was observed closely. Thankfully they did not have a hand in this, though. Even though this is the case, however, a briefing will still need to be delivered to their colleagues in the Lungan Aegis Company. The paramilitary branch of the LPAO (Lungan's Peregrination for Astrobiology and Oceanography), Galliadurm's space and sea agency.

Back at the L.A.C camp where the agents conducted their business, some of whom were still observing the foreign party, Laith had already fallen asleep in his office. In the room over, Yimmi gleefully enjoyed one of her favorite shows that came on around this time on her Ghosrim. Fall back a couple of minutes concerning that, after Yimmi returned through the now deactivated portal, she was quickly reminded of the show coming on in "a couple of seconds". The person who reminded her, Yimmi's mother of course, did not take into account the number of fresh Ads Yimmi would have to go through in order to reach that lovely show.

..Even in a "futuristic country", no one can escape Ads. At least these Ads in particular didn't cost a fortune to produce and spread through Galliadurm. In fact, these were free Ads. Ads solely with the purpose of advertising local venues and the like, especially the newer ones to put them on the map. No money involved.

Aerlanica wrote:*SNIP*

(Also pinging Monsone)

Operations Command Center, HAA Longinus

"Initial scans of the unidentified object has detected a combination Fel/Zero-point energy signature!" yells a tactician. "I understand the Fel, but zero-point energy? Last we checked, the DDR did not have the means of making and using zero-point energy!" yells someone else. "The only forces we know of that use zero-point energy and are hostile to the GU are the Rogue Primaeri, War'Shara, and Zur'Vahal. There's a fairly good chance the DDR managed to contact one of them and struck some kind of deal." says a third person.
"That is unlikely." says Inaki. "It has been demonstrated multiple times throughout history that the DDR is almost, if not just as genocidal, as the Radika. It is far more plausible that they stole and reverse engineered the zero-point technology, most likely stealing it from the Primaeri based on Cicada Intelligence reports. We may be about to face the DDR's first reverse-engineered Primaeri weapon."

Kemptburge Chunk

"... We may be about to face the DDR's first reverse-engineered Primaeri weapon." is heard over the global C-COM channel.

The fighting outside the hospital is still intense. the Cicada/NERV Taskforce's defensive lines are just barely holding. One of the Cicada agents in Spencer's room suddenly rushes towards the window before summoning what appears to be a slightly-oversized sniper rifle of sorts, a sniper rifle that seems to be designed for stopping tanks and armored vehicles instead of distant infantry. "Unintelligible ... Anti-Ma... Unintelligible ...port." was heard from the agent's radio moments ago. The oversized sniper rifle is actually a Cygnus Arms Orius-1205 Anti-Material Rifle, a heavy plasma-bolt rifle designed for taking out armored targets from a distance. The 1205 refers to the "Caliber" of the charge cells it uses as ammunition.
Along with the rifle, the agent also summons an adjustable stand that is used to "mount" the rifle to the windowsill and a box full of loaded ammo clips. It takes less than 30 seconds for the agent to set up and load the rifle. The agent proceeds to hold down a button on one side of the rifle and flip a switch on the other side, leading to the rifle making a barely-audible high-pitched buzzing sound that has a vague... "magic" quality to it, a subtle sign of the rifle's magitek nature. "Weapon red." says the agent. (Weapon red = All safeties disabled.)
Not even a second later the agent pulls the trigger. Under normal circumstances, being in the immediate vicinity of an Orius-1205 Anti-Material Rifle when it fires without hearing protection is generally a... bad idea. However, because Cicada deployed a Wide-Area Noise-Suppression Field, the rifle's incredibly loud electrical/magical banging/popping sound is now about as loud as a small dog's bark. Not loud enough to blow out Spencer's eardrums, but still definitely loud enough to startle him. Out the side of the rifle, a smoking cylindrical object pops out and falls onto the floor with a metal clanging sound. Outside, the torso of an Infernal (https://wowpedia.fandom.com/wiki/Infernal) had been blown apart by the shot.

???

"As of now, I don't know her intentions." says a male demonic voice. "There's a 50/50 shot she either goes for the Boy or the Mal'Prim." says a second demonic voice. "She's been very loyal up to this point. I don't think she'd betray the Master over the Boy's safety. I'd wager she's going after the Boy herself." says a third demonic voice. "You'd better be damn right. The Master WILL NOT tolerate insubordination." says a fourth demonic male voice.

Oateria wrote:-snip-

(I mean...it probably wouldn't be a death cult...probably a cult of commiting mischief across the place.)

The woman cringed slightly at despair.

"No despair; i've had enough of despair." She said with a sigh. "I do want to cause some chaos though."

"Why the hell'd you want to do that?" Another asked.

"Well first off...it seems like fun, second off, since when did any other nation come charging to our rescue?"

Galliadurm wrote:-snip-

Once the ritual was completed, the strangers returned to their camp. Some song and dance was heard, with idle conversation held interesting information the L.A.C. managed to gather from eavesdropping with their drones. From dozens upon dozens of conversations, the L.A.C. begin to correlate a general idea of who these strangers are, and why they're here, and by morning, they piece together a fragment about how these strangers crash landed, and who the strange human-esque strangers are.

The vessel, the ANV Perserverence, was making a run to an occupied planet of theirs called "Vanguard", a planet that had immense amounts of military manufactories and was part of their nation, known as the Aerlanican Federation (or Federation of Aerlanica) after the nation it was birthed from, a democratic, parlimentary democracy which posesses a Prime Minister as the head of state, but lacks a president. Vanguard was occupied by "Tyramon" and "The Primaeri" in the opening stages of the war, and thus Aerlanica was using various fleets to expatriate civilians and abled bodied individuals capable of being enlisted to fight the war. The ANV Perserverence was intercepted and chased before it was shot down.

"Aerlanicans", themselves, were marked for genocide by their enemies or at least to be enslaved (at least that is how they feel, on account of hundreds of millions of their civilians in their homeland being rounded up and disappeared into deep space). As such, between those hiding on Vanguard, those toiling away forced to serve the enemy war effort, and those still under Federal authority, the number of Aerlanicans that are alive today are just barely above 350 million, less than half of what was alive eight years ago, eight years which consisted of civil war, environmental collapse, mass starvation, a quasi-civil war, a demonic invasion, an alien invasion, a second alien invasion and orbital bombardment of their homeland, and now the current war. This catastrophic loss of life, however, has failed to dampen their spirits and still they dilligently fight on...however there are fears amongst them they may be at the end of their rope.

Irrespective, they are hopefull they can win, however it is clear they are outnumbered and outgunned; an unknown superweapon fielded by their enemy had annihilated no less than two fleets, and the entire army stationed at their homeland which is on a planet called "Augusta". They consider themselves human, and indeed their genetic are almost identical to humans, but outside of their physical appearance, they are not human through technicality.

Soon, the night turns to dawn, and the work on the transponder of the vessel seemingly continues. The Galliadurn observers see as the "Aerlanicans" cannibalise various parts of the ship to get the transponder working, laying out various components and looking over them to determine what can and cannot be used.

Roxium wrote:(Also pinging Monsone)

Kemptburge Chunk

"... We may be about to face the DDR's first reverse-engineered Primaeri weapon." is heard over the global C-COM channel.

The fighting outside the hospital is still intense. the Cicada/NERV Taskforce's defensive lines are just barely holding. One of the Cicada agents in Spencer's room suddenly rushes towards the window before summoning what appears to be a slightly-oversized sniper rifle of sorts, a sniper rifle that seems to be designed for stopping tanks and armored vehicles instead of distant infantry. "Unintelligible ... Anti-Ma... Unintelligible ...port." was heard from the agent's radio moments ago. The oversized sniper rifle is actually a Cygnus Arms Orius-1205 Anti-Material Rifle, a heavy plasma-bolt rifle designed for taking out armored targets from a distance. The 1205 refers to the "Caliber" of the charge cells it uses as ammunition.
Along with the rifle, the agent also summons an adjustable stand that is used to "mount" the rifle to the windowsill and a box full of loaded ammo clips. It takes less than 30 seconds for the agent to set up and load the rifle. The agent proceeds to hold down a button on one side of the rifle and flip a switch on the other side, leading to the rifle making a barely-audible high-pitched buzzing sound that has a vague... "magic" quality to it, a subtle sign of the rifle's magitek nature. "Weapon red." says the agent. (Weapon red = All safeties disabled.)
Not even a second later the agent pulls the trigger. Under normal circumstances, being in the immediate vicinity of an Orius-1205 Anti-Material Rifle when it fires without hearing protection is generally a... bad idea. However, because Cicada deployed a Wide-Area Noise-Suppression Field, the rifle's incredibly loud electrical/magical banging/popping sound is now about as loud as a small dog's bark. Not loud enough to blow out Spencer's eardrums, but still definitely loud enough to startle him. Out the side of the rifle, a smoking cylindrical object pops out and falls onto the floor with a metal clanging sound. Outside, the torso of an Infernal (https://wowpedia.fandom.com/wiki/Infernal) had been blown apart by the shot.

???

"As of now, I don't know her intentions." says a male demonic voice. "There's a 50/50 shot she either goes for the Boy or the Mal'Prim." says a second demonic voice. "She's been very loyal up to this point. I don't think she'd betray the Master over the Boy's safety. I'd wager she's going after the Boy herself." says a third demonic voice. "You'd better be damn right. The Master WILL NOT tolerate insubordination." says a fourth demonic male voice.

Kemptburge Chunk

With a shrug and a sigh, Azalea continues to try and keep the demons away from the hospital. The crack of the rifle fire, while muted, is still startling to her, and while she is trying to do her best, her armour is suffering extreme wear and tear; without an AT field, it is taking the brunt of the abuse.

Irrespective, she soldiers on, trying to keep everyone safe, despite beginning to grow increasingly frightened and uneasy.

"Inaki," she asks, "Who are the Primaeri?"

Hospital

Spencer winced at the sound of the rifle and let out a little yelp. This halted Alena and Spencer's their arguing, as Alena looked over to the agent with a raised eyebrow.

"Stay here, Spencer." Alena instructed.

Alena approached the agent and tapped them on the shoulder.

"Excelent shot," she said, as the agent's vision grew clearer, and a sense of confidence filled them, "keep it up."

The Cicadia agent let out a laugh, and nodded.

"Thanks." They said as they aimed the rifle once more. In no less than half a second, the agent fired again, and another rocky, green flame wreathed amalgamation met it's demise. The agent would find their accuracy had greatly approved through some method, seemingly instantaneously, without explaination.

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