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 Tanash the Founder Executive Suite "Ah Primus, I don't believe I've had the pleasure of a visit. I will of course be happy to help, as a favor to you my good friend. If that pleases you?" ---------------------- Litorii Grand Imperial Palace? Through the doors walks a man in a well tailored suit. No cameras would indicate he had walked in from the street, and there is no record of him arriving on a vessel. He walks up to the main receptionist and smiles brightly, "Hello, my name is Tanash. Yes, that one. I wish to schedule a meeting with your Emperor?"
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Oct 14, 2017 20:30
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The receptionist looks bored. They most commonly are, after all, there are few people who are actually worthy of the Emperor's time. Many times, an accord can be come to without involving him, and it is usually only with absolute heads of state that the Emperor spends his moments. This was one of those occasions. The Receptionist languidly looks up at the man, and seems to freeze up for a moment, paling. To get this far, and not be stopped or questioned at any juncture? That meant that the man was either one hell of a terrible assassin, or someone who was absolutely, definitely, 100% supposed to be here. ".... Tanash. Yes. I believe we can make an accomodation. Right this way. Have you been briefed on the necessary protocols....?" The protocols were, surprisingly, not very long at all. Mostly to refer to the Emperor by either the Emperor or Basileus, and to look him in the eyes at all times during proceedings. Obviously, the normal polite formalities were to be observed, but it seemed.... Casual, almost. It was rare, after all, that actual equals came to visit the Emperor. "I personally believe we should make these protocols far more strict, but alas, the Emperor is a serene man. The gleam and splendor of Imperial Majesty does not hang upon a wizened frame as gloriously as it does the shoulders of an old man. Still, do not underestimate him." The Throne Room Awaits. 
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Oct 15, 2017 02:08
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Tanash the Founder Litorii Throne Room Tanash smiles neutrally through the speech, only giving a slight nod of understanding when the protocols were finished. Such airs mortals were putting on these days, strange times indeed. He thinks almost wistfully to an earlier time, a... simpler time, when the universe was much smaller, the rules were well defined and everything seemed to have a purpose. Alas. "Thank you, your advice is greatly appreciated." Then he strides through the doors of the throne room, looking at the old man before him. He almost immediately breaks the protocol told to him by sizing the man up, looking beyond the mortal frame. Despite his age, a very energetic spirit. That could be good or bad. Tanash does not bow, but he does give a nod of greeting. "Basileus. I am sure you are a busy man, and I hope you understand that so am I. I will therefor come right to the point. I am here on behalf of the Varraxian Dominion, who have turned to me in recognition of the positive interactions that my organization and you empire have shared in these recent days. The Divine Lord of the Varraxians wishes to provide... assistance in the recovery and return of his people's cultural heritage. He therefor requests that you allow a contingent of Varraxian scientists and historians on your exploration ships and expeditions. They will mark and document any Varraxian artifacts that you find, and request that they be returned at the earliest convenience. In exchange the Lord Dominion Primus is willing to extend a pact of non-aggression between the Varraxians and Litorii. Do you find this suggestion agreeable?"
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Oct 15, 2017 02:24
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Standing before you was a man. A man, but a man burdened with the fate of many billions of souls. His was a weight that dragged at the shoulders, drew upon the brow, but even with all of this, he sat, old and seemingly timeless, with a calm serenity that belied the energy waiting below. He may not have been a god, but he may as well should be one, as his word was Imperial Law. And even with all of this, he cracked a small, sardonic smile, before saying, in a soft and level voice, a voice of a scholar more than a man of deep authority, "Come now, friend, an agreement is what you seek. But first I have a question that I ask of each man that steps into this throne room, as I have asked since the day I rose to the throne." He slowly and carefully raised himself to his feet, a few cracks and pops emanating from his weathered body as he regarded the man before him not with awe, not with contempt, not with amusement, but with indifference. He stepped down from the throne, slowly, robes sweeping across the floor with barely a sound, before he came to rest to a window, obviously recently added to the throne room. At least, more recently than the rest of the place. The throne room looked positively ancient, with remnants even still from what one would consider, possibly, their bronze age. He languidly looked over at Tanash, that small, quiet smile still on his face. "When you look out of my window, over the reaches of Empire, vast and sprawling, each doing what they will to better not only their faith, but their people, what do you see?"
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Oct 15, 2017 02:32
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Tanash the Founder Litorii Throne Room He sighs inwardly, walking over to stand next to this old man with a neutral expression, looking out over the cityscape view from the palace. It was... nice? The streets were clean. The people well looked after. Crime seemed low. Technology was making rapid strides in many areas, which was always a promising sign. They had made remarkable progress in their short history. "I see... an empire. One with potential and, confidence, about their place in the galaxy."
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Oct 15, 2017 03:00
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"An honest answer, I will give you that, but that's a rather shallow observation, isn't it?" "I see a weight upon you too, as I so hold, though you mask it with divine power and keep your chin high. We all fade, and there is always a price to be paid, and you, above all else, know prices well." His smile, still soft, loses its wry quality to it. Perhaps he reminded Tanash of someone. Perhaps not. Thousands of faces flitter by through centuries, after all. "As for now? I trust you. A man who sacrifices much is capable of great good. The agreement shall be as stated, although details will need to be discussed as to what, exactly, a Precursor artifact would even count as, and I am quite certain that the Patriarchate will require a significant amount of.... Delaying paperwork. They do not like to simply give up knowledge under their fingertips. Not to mention, there are things older than time, older than greatness, older than pride, and older than greed. I trust you understand this well." He continued facing outwards towards the window, a cool breeze blowing outside. "Enjoy a walk. I suspect it will do you good."
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Oct 15, 2017 03:09
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Tanash the Founder Litorii Throne Room The magic of the agreement-in-principle weaves itself through the room into the form of a preliminary contract, a combination of the general terms to be negotiated between the functionaries of the Varraxian Dominion and Litorii Empire. He waves a hand and the agreement disappears from the room, making its way to the appropriate desks of the relevant bureaucrats in both stellar nations. His mission done, he cocks his head at the Emperor, "Now that I have fulfilled my favor, I will give you the answer you were seeking. When I look at you, this empire that your people have built, I see the face of a young knight that once caught my notice long ago. He was trained by the best swordmasters, road the most powerful warhorse, girded himself in the finest armor. He trained every day, tested himself over and over. He won every joust. He bested every opponent. He could run faster, jump higher, shoot further, ride harder. Truly there was no greater champion in the kingdom and he looked forward for the next war to come. No, more than that, he longed for it, he needed it like he had not needed anything else in his life. When I look at you, your empire, it is his face I see."
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Oct 15, 2017 03:31
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This time, he laughed. "Ah, the follies of youth." He shook his head for a moment, his smile broadening as he turned back to face Tanash. "Let me tell you a story, of a man much like that one." He waved his hand, and from somewhere unseen, an emitter played out a hologram. A flickering image of a young man stood there, of stern countenance and gleaming eyes.  "Cato Andromache Belisarias. My ancestor. Some say the savior of the Empire. Some say a hero. I think that there are no such things as heroes, myself, but others beg to disagree, and who am I to tell them different?" "He was born a bastard, over a thousand years ago, outside of a wedding done not for love, but for alliances. He had a brother. Anastasios. The common conception is that he was a wicked man, willing to debase and forsake everything the Empire stood for, a lazy, unfit sod. He was denied power, and Cato was named the heir. So he whispered with a silver tongue until he had the military and the administration at his beck and call, and Cato was sent to the killing fields in a skirmish against the Urdun. He survived. He flourished. And he triumphed. He slew the Urdun to a man, sparing only women and children as long as they were gelded. And so it was, for to be Cato was to have law itself as his voice." He walked back towards the throne, caressing the arm rest slightly, fingering a place on it where an old break had occurred. "And when his father died, as all men do, he tried to claim the throne, but Anastasios would not let him. He refused. He claimed it for himself, and locked himself in this very palace, and in this very room. And when Cato had rallied the people, and proven to all those present that he was not only the heir, but he was a virtuous soul, he stepped into the throne room, and with a sweep of his sword, slew Anastasios, drunk and whore-besotted upon his throne, a chip carved from the throne that still remains there." "And Cato ruled, and he ruled justly, but in the end, he too died, as do all men, as will I, and all things fade into the obscurity of time's ever-present fog, but at the end of it all, I like to think he was happy. His last action as Emperor was to establish a system through which the remnants of the people he slaughtered were given comfort and homes for the rest of their days, a place and a purpose, to the Empire that had denied them such. Perhaps that was his redemption." He finally looked up at Tanash, the soft smile gone, replaced with a serious look on his face. He seemed to swell, to become more than himself, and for a brief moment, the quiet old man was an EMPEROR. His countenance shined with authority, and each line on his face was the presence of a leader. His posture evoked courage, his bearing evoked august times, and his feet stood firmly upon a ground that others foundered upon. "There is no war I will seek that is not just. There is no peace I will seek that is not wisely won. There is no death that is not needed, and there is no life that won't be spared. My people hold themselves high, but as they hold themselves high, I must hold myself low. For their aspirations for Empire shall be grand indeed, but there must always be a voice, that voice in the back of the din of glory and valor. 'Remember, you too, are mortal.'" The smile returned to his face, and he shrunk again. Was the EMPEROR really there at all? "But you needn't worry about that. You've many lifetimes to go, don't you?" fishception fucked around with this message at 04:20 on Oct 15, 2017 |
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Oct 15, 2017 03:48
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Tanash the Founder Litorii Throne Room He is not impressed by the... display. It mildly piqued his interest though. Perhaps there was some common thread running through the leaders of this world, in the absence of a guiding divinity. Fascinating. "A fascinating story. On the one hand we have a man who was handed power and glory on a platter, with the only qualification being that he could slaughter his way through a battlefield. On the other hand we have a man who was the designated second, but despite this managed to build consensus among the military and administration that he would be the superior ruler, enough that all agreed to send the Heir Apparent on a suicide mission, a death sentence if it was ever discovered I'm sure." "The warrior returns, bloodied but victorious and is hailed as a conquering hero marching a line of sterilized women and children back into a life as second class citizens, at best. Then the King dies, as all kings do, and thus the succession crisis begins as is want to happen. The Warrior proves himself virtuous by some ill defined cultural norm that exists at the time, and uses his fame as a war hero to rally people to his cause to march on the palace. Meanwhile, the Second Son is already in the palace, presumably in the same place where his father was dying and also where one would best be suited to learn how to rule." "So we come to the culmination of the story, the final meeting. The silver tongued brother, enjoying a few last moments of pleasure in a world that rejected him out of hand, is killed in cold blood by his kin. And the worst thing that can be said about this "Anastasios" is that he was drunk after his father died, he was paying for sex and he was "lazy" by some storyteller's definition. The Warrior King is remembered fondly by history of course, as is common in the history of empires, mostly for the accomplishment of not being a complete monster and having a brief moment of mercy, on his deathbed, toward a people he had slaughtered in the first place." "Forgive me if my personal sympathies do not align with the story as told." "You have some perspective. That is refreshing, and honestly a nice change of pace from the... company that I have been keeping recently. Does your successor have the same perspective? Because forgive a bit of brutal honesty, you are a very young race in a very dark galaxy. You seem wary enough to recognize the charred bones and blackened earth for the sign that it is. But what if a strapping young conquering hero strolled into the room with a mob at his back and a sword in his hand and said that you were not fit to rule because they mistake your perspective for cowardice, your caution for weakness? What happens when the Emperor starts believing your own propaganda?"
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Oct 15, 2017 04:54
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"I see then! Doubt! An understandable response. History is always kind to the victors, but our faith values truth above all else. Empirical evidence, written down, through countless ages. Perhaps you would enjoy reading through them some time." He strode back to the throne, and sat down upon it, resting his chin in his palm, and regarding the final words that Tanash gave him, a slight twinkle in his eye and that same infuriatingly soft smile gracing his features. "As for that young man, if he comes striding through that door, I will hug him, and I will forgive him for the sins he will commit. It will not be enough to ease his burdened conscience in old age, but it will be enough to know that I have given him a seed of doubt in his own head. And a message, left in the annals of history, back to the very beginnings of our lines, of myriad dynasties, and how they fell and rose. Perhaps he will make mistakes. That is the folly of youth, and the folly of mortals. But it is a choice governed by ourselves, and not by the whim of forces within ourselves driving us to maddening, destructive ends, and at the end, we learn from our mistakes by experience. Can Primus or, indeed, many other gods, say the same?" fishception fucked around with this message at 05:31 on Oct 15, 2017 |
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Oct 15, 2017 05:22
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"Ah, there we are. A crack in your supposed humility, and a dangerous one at that. I am afraid that I have other matters that demand my attention, this has been a fascinating conversation. However, allow me to leave you with a single observation. If you want to say that divinities are 'governed the whim of forces within ourselves driving us to maddening, destructive ends,' and by way of implication say that mortals aren't? Then my friend I am sad to inform you from long, long study that your assessment is wholly inaccurate. Perhaps you would mean to imply that your people specifically are exempt from this rule, to which I can only reply..." He gives a dramatic sweep of his arms, spinning around slightly motioning to this palace within a cathedral within a larger cathedral, "Progress Marches."
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Oct 15, 2017 06:02
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"Progress Marches, indeed, but I don't see my people living for countless millenia, hauling a race from the brink of death back for one last try at glory. We are young. And at the very least, our motto is not one of dominion, but of change. All around us, there is the endless progress, but here." He gestures to the throne room. The Grand Cathedral spanned ever outwards far over the horizon from the palace. Here, the past lived. Here, the memories and the mistakes of countless Emperors, whether in writing or data, lay. Even the chip within the throne spoke of something that acted as a check to endless progress, to endless change, and to endless development. It spoke of tradition. "Do you know why Theos does not speak to her Emperors, my friend? Because Theos, in her infinite wisdom, recognizes that her voice burns, scorches at the mind. Even as wonders pour infinitely out from the Priesthood, it scars their minds. Some only dwell in the realm of the theoretical now, their voices only capable of spouting endless formulae. But we are untouched. Because she trusts us to make the choices that keep us from becoming nothing more than tools."
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Oct 15, 2017 08:48
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Tanash the Founder Litorii Throne Room "And it is to your extreme benefit, for now. As a favor to me, do try to instill to your successor this conviction of yours, and make sure they pass it onto their successor. If you ever find yourselves facing some sort of crisis, like trying to convince your people of some sort of uncomfortable truth," he holds up a business card, which disappears in a lick of flame and appears on a nearby table, "Give me a call. However now I must beg my leave, there are other matters that are... demanding, a greater deal of my attention. Pleasant travels, Basileus." He gives a small nod, and turns to walk out of the door. However as he rounds the corner away from the Throne Room, but before the guards posted outside can turn to look at him, he is gone. --------------------------------- The Amoeba System ---------------------------------- As the negotiations are ongoing between the Ameoba, negotiating for their very existences, a new presence appears into the view of those connected by the magic. A hazy distortion at first, but then forming itself into the image of a man, looking a mix of puzzled and concerned, but with a hopeful demeanor.  "Well, isn't this a fine happening. I was wondering what that disturbance was. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Tanash the Founder. And you, I can only assume, are Bryn the Golden. I trust things are going well this stellar cycle?" professor_curly fucked around with this message at 18:05 on Oct 15, 2017 |
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Oct 15, 2017 14:19
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Bryn Bryn simply banishes the intruder's communication.
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Oct 15, 2017 18:43
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All things, still, were well in order, but what could be more easily done was the miniaturization of existing technologies to make them more feasible, and, of course, a prototype for the next generation of Meka. The standard Meka was the Klibanophoros Kataphraktou, or KK for short, an extremely versatile craft, but something.... Better, was needed. Deiosa reached out it's inspiration, and found a down on his luck mechanical engineer, and touched his mind for a brief moment. A greater design was in progress, and perhaps more importantly, a way to miniaturize the Tachyon Lance, and to fit it on a Meka frame. Progress Marches. ===== The vast majority of the new carrier fleet needed, understandably, new Meka to occupy them. As the Carrier fleets were being redesigned, Efaristos Kontozon, 2nd Class Acolyte of Mechanical Advantages and Mysteries, burst out of his disheveled workshop yelling and screaming. He had the idea for a new design. It was to be something grand, and it would be named for an old Emperor's personal guard. The Pronoiari.  Designed as a method to replace the problematic auxiliary squadrons of KK models, it was to pack a full fledged battleship level Tachyon Lance as it's primary armament, allowing for more mobile placement. ==== The Calypso jumped on the opportunity to scan and determine the specifics of what the station entailed, and as the data was extracted and all things considered, it was determined to be time to move on. The entry for the planet was entered into the databanks. They'd found something already, but they opted now to focus on planets and systems near the home Litorian systems. There could be useful things closer to home, after all. Now if only those Varraxians could stop being so ANNOYING..... === Deiosa: +8 Inspiration towards developing groundwork of new generation of Meka. Empire: +4 Faith, +4 Intellect towards developing new working Meka prototypes to replace aging KK models and Auxiliary Tachyon Lance squadrons. Calypso: -2 Hubris, exploring regions near Litorii space. fishception fucked around with this message at 00:48 on Oct 16, 2017 |
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Oct 16, 2017 00:45
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 The Starbound secured their grip on the last indicated sector, construction of further vessels reaching fruition, ready to spread harmony and unity ever further at Åton's will. The probe sang. The GCC tinkered with their latest venture, using Litorii technology and the data on the comms array from the abandoned uplift station to work on the issue of FTL communications, or at least improve on the mechanisms available. Comstar's forays on entanglement empowered communications were thoroughly successful, among some of the best instantaneous communication solutions available in the known galaxy. The Matriarchy points their weapons at the unexpectedly resurrected aliens, but once the translators kick in, they do not seem overly inclined to throw away their lives. They lie down, inasmuch as their anatomy allows, and comply with the instructions of the Mother Admiral. There are some frightened glances at the strange aliens, no shortage of grief-analogues at the loss of their world and everything they have ever known. They seem far more stunned than threatening. You successfully convince the resurrected survivors of a dead world not to get killed again, they are yours to do with as you wish. The negotiations by Tanash on behalf of the Matriarchy with the Fenadeshi seem to have gone well so far. Anwé experiences a successful outcome with regards that which he was trying to do. The Rahashi Syndicate took to weapons testing with gusto, and initial results appeared to be effective beyond even the optimistic projections. All three systems were ahead of schedule and under budget, without compromising on outcome. Mainframe 01 on the other hand was not having a good time. Its new probe was getting exasperated: The strange blip was proving extremely elusive, shrugging off scans like an ERROR Waterfowl Analogy Corrupted Redo From Start. It nimbly manoeuvred out of wide field camera range, and generally did its utmost to see without being seen. There was little respite to be had from the factory manufacture on Planet C4: Progress was frustratingly slow, as parts calibrated for the environs of Planet 01 needed painstaking readjustment to function. It was slow, laborious work, methodically being worked through, but behind schedule. The Varraxian Armada under Primus' blessing stumbles across a fascinating world. It appears to be lush and verdant, with abundant water, covered in greenery, butthe geological scans keep returning exceedingly anomalous readings. It could well be a useful territory for the Dominion, though some Thralls would need to be forcibly transplanted. This in itself is odd, given the life-signs that drew the slave-greedy fleet here seemed to be exceedingly high from remote observation. The Varraxians wrestled with the Precursor singularity station, trying to manoeuvre it into position around a black hole without crossing the event horizon, colliding with matter being drawn in, and hopefully having chosen correctly in regards to charged, non-charged, rotating or non-rotating black holes. Eventually, it seemed that they got something right, as the screens stopped displaying error messages and sprung to life. Welcome to your Emperor Bryn focuses his thaumaturgical might on the three remaining worlds, overwhelming the entities with the compulsion to Deiosa focuses her inspiration on a new generation of the archetypal Litorii weapon of war. Some of the finest weapon designers poured their utmost into the project, but their designs became more outlandish and outré, concepts taken to ridiculous extremes, stretching the envelope in ways that could barely be imagined. These were Meka at the extreme bleeding edge, proofs of concept from the minds of those just short of madness. Usable, certainly, but they bore the touch of the touched in every facet of their design. Overkill! The groundwork is laid, the prototypes built, but they straddle the edge of genius and madness in their design. The Calypso spent its time integrating the new species, and smoothing over the rough edges between them. Its work in general suffered: The discoveries made at this time were mundane, nothing more exotic than a trinary with a couple long term terraform candidates. Perhaps next time.
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Oct 18, 2017 02:36
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 Anwé, the Near-and-Far The Forgotten Library Anwé stood at the center of the library, closing the green leather-bound book and setting it aside, dropping it in mid-air where it promptly vanished to where-ever he had sent it. In its place upon the standing desk now sat eight different books, each looking worn around the edges; aged. He took the topmost of the stack, and set it before him, opening it to reveal shifting, moving ink. Words in an unknown language wrote and re-wrote themselves across the pages in black ink. He tapped the page once, and a figure suddenly stood before him, a short distance from the standing desk. Human, apparently. Confused, bewildered. The words raced and scrawled across the page in a panic. Anwé seized the first page in hand and tore it from the book in a single motion. The man's face went blank, and he stood there unaware, unresponsive. The torn page, still whirling with words and ink, crumbled into dust in Anwé's clawed hand. From a stack of parchment, the God-Father drew forth a blank vellum page, and began to write in that same unknown language, pouring his power into it. Filling the page with new words. New thoughts. New identity. "Mr. Lonbraj," was all that Anwé said, and inserted the page into the book, which joined with it as if it had been there all along. Using Space [+6] and Secrets [+4] and Darkness [+2] to create a loyal agent of Anwé, giving him gifts from the God-Father to aid him in his travels. Teleportation, the ability to hide oneself from detection and the ability to cloud the minds of others, and the ability to both keep secrets and sniff out secrets held by others. Basically, he looks human but is secretly my divine agent.  The Rahashi Syndicate click me  "Good morning, good afternoon, and good evening, where ever you are. I'm Bo'b Jonahson, and this is Affiliate News Network: Interstellar Edition.  "Our top story; War...? Reports are coming in from across the territories that the Syndicate Flotilla is on the move. Vessels have been sighted leaving their regular hunting grounds and re-routing for known Syndicate outposts as early as three days ago. Sources inside the Corsairs have told us that re-directed Syndicate Vessels are undergoing weapons refit. Furthermore, Syndicate sources say that this is in response to the, frankly, disastrous negotiations with the Sessile Silicates some two weeks prior. We go now to J'an Bobs'un, who has more on this story. J'an?" "Thanks, Bo'b. I'm here tonight with a Rahashi, who we are calling Denny, who claims to have inside information regarding these new developments. As usual, Denny has only agreed to speak with us on the condition of anonymity. Denny is, of course, not his real name. Thanks for agreeing to speak with us, Denny."  Live from Undisclosed Location: Denny [DENNY, voice- filtered]: "My pleasure, J'an." [J'AN]: "So, what can you tell us about the apparent mobilization?" [DENNY]: "Well, my contacts inside the Syndicate tell me that the recent negotiations with the Sessile Silicates were more than just bad. Apparently, some days after the meeting with their representatives, our Ambassador began complaining of headaches. A medical examination revealed altered brainwave patterns. And to make matters worse, further questioning uncovered two hours that the Ambassador could not account for during the negotiations. He simply had no memory of them. Remember, J'an, the Silicates are psionic." [J'AN]: "You're saying the Syndicate believes that the Silicates tampered with his mind?" [DENNY]: "That's right, J'an. They believe he was compromised; turned into a spy or assassin or something. The Ambassador has been placed in isolation until they can determine the extent of the damage and what can be done." [J'AN]: "We wish him a speedy recovery. Does the Syndicate plan to retaliate militarily?" [DENNY]: "If they have to. My contacts tell me that the Syndicate has demanded a full explanation and admission of guilt from the Silicates, in addition to reparations for the assault on the Ambassador. The Silicates will deny it, of course, but if they do not produce something to appease the Bosses then I think an invasion is likely. Tampering with someone's mind is a serious breach of diplomacy." [J'AN]: "An understatement, to be sure. Now, our viewers at home are wondering; do the Bosses plan to call a General Assembly?" [DENNY, laughing]: "I couldn't begin to guess what the Bosses are thinking, but my contacts tell me that initial analysis of the Silicates do not suggest they are a significant space presence. I think this is going to be a Spectator Sport, if it comes to that, J'an." [J'AN]: "We're all glad to hear that, Denny. Thank you for your time. Bo'b?" "Thanks, J'an. Bookies put the odds of Invasion at 1-to-5 in favor, while the likelyhood of a General Assembly sits at 10-to-1 against. Don't forget to place your wagers; our operators are standing by. When we return after the break, we'll tell you if Rahashi digestive enzymes are the secret to younger looking skin, and what surprising household items you probably shouldn't leave laying next to your DeAtomizer. Now, a message from our associates." https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SlcUwUwjLrs Using Teleportation [+4] and Espionage [+2] to Prepare For War; Teleportation for refitting ships with our new weapons and mobilizing the Flotilla on the border, while Espionage gathers Intelligence on enemy capabilities and strategic installations, as well as pumping out propaganda aimed not at Rahashi or Affiliates, but at the galaxy at large to establish casus belli. Rhjamiz fucked around with this message at 04:02 on Oct 18, 2017 |
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Oct 18, 2017 03:06
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 Åton Åton turned from the probe. <"Are you happy, my child?"> Åton Asked it. It hummed and sang. It was. He gestured. <"You are a joy. Go forth and bring peace to the galaxy."> The probe departed. A few crystal asteroids were shattered as it moved, picking up speed. Åton gave a kind of shrug, if one could call it that for a being of his kind. Children needed to learn how to walk before they ran. Turning towards the three perfected sectors, Åton focused, he had pondered and wondered long enough. It was time for growth, the Starbound needed more helpers. More ships. And he would help them grow. OOC tldr; Åton: Using Conversion[+6] & Growth[+2] to help grow a fleet (boosting their construction) in each of the three starbound controlled sectors.  The Crystal Star (Probe) The probe shot forward, moving ahead. It sang and called forth into the dark, ever forward. A message of harmony as it smashed through space debris and any masses that got in its way. OOC tldr; The Crystal Star: Travels with its message of Peace!  The Starbound The Starseeker ships created and those that were already bound moved to the next sectors to bring peace and harmony to all. They would know serenity and joy. The half-bound were already further along in their conversions and were joyously doing all they could, singing about the neighboring sectors. Their need for perfection and love. The six fleets moved like gliding slivers of perfection, moving forwards ever at their own pace. Movement:  OOC tldr; The Starbound: are moving again, exploring the neighboring sectors as shown on the map. In the three controlled sectors, a new fleet is being constructed in each. Åton is taking a hand in it as mentioned above. Again, no abilities used until something is encountered.
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Oct 18, 2017 03:24
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 Mainframe 01 A circuit burns with irritation. Enough time has been wasted with this anomaly, time that could be used to increase efficiency. But perhaps... Perhaps efficiency should be increased before the anomaly is investigated. With a soft hum, all of Planet 01's Myrmidons go back to work. With the off-system construction of new factory worlds, more space for Mainframe's mental infrastructure can be cleared. The Myrmidons quickly start to disassemble several city-sized factories, taking their pieces and recycling them as they are used for a new effort. Enormous complexes are built in their places, and perfect replicas of Mainframe's neural network, taken from the archives of the Creators are housed within, connected with the godly computer's mindscape. Administrate(+6), Build (+4) and Research (+2) the beginning of the conversion of Planet 01 from Factory World to Computer Mind World...
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Oct 18, 2017 14:36
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The Fleetbound Matriarchy of Verisanga Mother-Above-All The House of Echoes, Mother's Demense "Pardon me for questioning your wisdom, Mother." Verena says, walking alongside Mother through one of her favorite wings of her museum. "But I don't know how people will react to this proclamation." Mother chuckles. Verena is a favorite of hers. The part of her that was Evelina sees little echoes of her face in hers. The way her eyebrows arch when she's annoyed, her nose, the odd scoff-laugh that seems to run in the family at this point. She smiles down at the woman as they walk past oil paintings from a dozen dead worlds. "Admiral, I understand your reservations and I respect them but..." Mother stops. Her eyes land on an oil painting from the Octopode Wars. Line-corpses charge into an octopode position - lead by a Captain in shining silver armor. How many centuries ago was that now? It doesn't matter. "The Syndicate is nearing a thirty billion sapients under it's banner. The GCC? Approximately a hundred billion." Verena looks at the painting herself, a pained look on her face. "And the Dominion? Countless, even before you begin to estimate their thrall numbers." Mother lays a hand on Verena's shoulder. She squeezes gently. "Do you know how many living souls exist in the whole Matriarchy, at this very minute? 752,194, if I add our new corvin sisters to the count." Verena looks up at Mother, her eyes are heavy. "We have to do this. How else will we fill new Ark-Ships? How will we stay ahead in a galaxy of merchants and spies?" Verena sighs, her shoulders slump. "You're right, Mother. I just don't know how the rest will take this. Our people are stubborn" Mother chuckles, her hand leaves Verena's shoulder before they begin to walk again. "They'll understand, in time. We always do what it takes to survive." ------------------------  Mother Admiral Verena Kalkmurnieks Above the Former Homeworld of the Corvins The VAS Gravmalis, Talums, Mecziems, and Vircavnieks gather their fleets. Industrial barges, heavy with scrap from the Vircavnieks scaffolding, dock with their Ark-Ships. "Safe journeys, Sign of Glory. We'll see you again soon. Signing off." The radio officer of the Gravmalis says over staticky comms. And with that, the Gravmalis opens a pale blue portal to the spirit realm and enters. Each Ark-Ship follows suit, it's fleet in tow. An hour later, the notices go up on every Ark-Ship. Those couples that wish to apply for residency on the Vircavnieks must have a third daughter. Those that cannot handle the judgement of their peers for doing so will be allowed to turn over their daughters anonymously, to be raised as wards of the State. The Mother Admiral braces for the worst. Meanwhile, scout ships break off from the main fleet and reenter real space. There's exploration to do. ------------------------ Goddess Action - Waiting on the GCC to ready up for the trip to New Fenadesh. Faction Action - The majority of the Fleet will leapfrog past New Fenadesh to the Tomb World west of them using their War +6 knowledge to send scouts north, northwest, and west as they go. The Unlife Aquatic fucked around with this message at 21:11 on Oct 18, 2017 |
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Oct 18, 2017 20:01
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Analytical Probe Module X-1 How interesting! Something has just pinged X-1's sensors at the far end of the system. A newly arriving object, a large one, although it has not been informed by any new Myrmidon units other than itself and the Harvester being sent here. It waits for a few seconds, after sending a request to Mainframe 01 asking what unit is that. Mainframe 01 Mainframe sends a negative answer, and starts to look around for any communications failure between itself and its units. Perhaps it's an escaped autonomous unit like X-1? No, all of them are accounted for. It immediately sends orders for X-1 to intercept with the object. Perhaps it might be the Creators returning? Analytical Probe Module X-1 The probe darts towards the unknown ship, recording it with its instruments while orbiting it.
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Oct 18, 2017 20:36
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 Commander Graudina Kazmerina Bridge of the VNS Cantrip, an Evelina Class Commander Graudina stares at the small dot on their sensor screens. It darts back and forth, clearly attempting to scan their ship. "Sitrep, Pavlovske." The small dark-skinned lieutenant grunts at the Commander. "Vessel started scanning us the second we landed. Unknown make and configuration. Spirit-sensors aren't detecting any lifesigns. Likely a probe or drone." She says. The Commander nods, she bites her lip. All her hopes for a quiet tour of cataloging spatial anomalies were dashed. Now she had to talk to foreigners. At least she wasn't corralling loving birds anymore. "Medne, rouse the moneygrubber. I think we've got a first contact on our hands. Pavlovske, open a channel." The lieutenant taps on a console for a few moments and mutters something under her breath. Her fingers finally come to a stop. "You've got a line, Commander." She says. The Commander clears her throat. "This is Commander Graudina of the VNS Cantrip, hailing unknown vessel. Identify yourself." The Unlife Aquatic fucked around with this message at 21:10 on Oct 18, 2017 |
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Oct 18, 2017 21:04
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Tanash the Founder He walks through the halls of a museum for a doomed race. One of the creatures, the curator he assumed, had noticed him and tried to bar his path, but he explained gently, "I am not here to hurt you. I merely wished to see what I could of your culture before... well, I'm sure you have an idea what is coming." It wobbled in a surprised manner, somehow understanding the strange speech. It pondered this, before flattening out in supplication asking for help. Tanash could only give a sad shake of his head, "I'm sorry. I don't have the strength to save you, it is beyond my power." They chatted for a while. The strange conversation took them around the museum and the artwork there. Eventually the curator began to partially split and divide itself, stretching one "half" toward Tanash while the other remained in place. Tanash thought for a moment then nodded, "I can do that. There isn't much time, but I will take an electronic copy of your history and a few of your prized pieces of art when I leave. I know a place that they will be safe." This mollified the amoeba, which considerably loosened itself and took on a more relaxed, deflated pose. At least there was that. The electronic archive could fit on a single GCC storage drive, but the artwork would be harder. He eventually walked up to one of the elevator constructs and pushed the button. The curator wiggled in a startled manner when instead of an elevator there was an office when the door opened. Tanash called inside, "Ms. Sune, if I could have your assistance for a moment." The curator of the ameoba museum watched as another of the strange walking star-shaped beings appeared. The new arrival was smaller, but between them they managed to lift one of the art sculptures and carefully walk it through the new doorway (wait, how was it so large?). Two others were brought through as well, before the taller star-shaped one jerked and looked up suddenly. "I am afraid my time here is over, my new friend. I am sorry that I could not do more. I can only say that I won't forget," Tanash says, giving his best approximation of a goodbye wiggle. The curate appreciated the attempt. The door of the elevator closes as Tanash steps through it, and he gives one final glance backwards, "Goodbye." Then a wave of golden light sweeps through the building, and the being that used to be the curator was no more. ------------------- ------------------- ------------------- GSS Abathar, Flagship of the 6th Security Squadron "The Angel's Own" Rendezvous with the Sign of Glory  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Oaf6E9ZMAJ8 In a somewhat rare display, the Founder himself stands at the ready on the bridge of the Abathar as it and the rest of the squadron dropped out of hyperspace. Their formation is neat, their piloting professional and practiced as they emerge into realspace in a parade grid. A few moments later another, larger ship appears, resembling some kind of metal jellyfish with a large armored prow, trailing behind it immensely long prongs that look like they could be support struts for additional modular structures... or perhaps ready-built space elevators. Another rare sight - a practically new SHOP.  He motions for hailing frequencies to be sent to the waiting Verisangan fleet, a personal line between himself and the Mother-above-all. Meanwhile there is a great deal of com chatter from the two fleets messaging back and forth coordinates and intentions - the relationship between the two fleets perhaps not as smooth as even the somewhat rocky friendship shared by the two gods. "they have us locked for weapons fire and charged, should we respond in kind? "hold formation, they wouldn't dare try an ambush like this. Half the galaxy would rain down on their heads." "hails sent, they're responding with challenge signals. weren't they expecting us?" Tanash simply smiles as the connection is established between his ship and the Mother-Above-All, unperturbed by the cold greeting, "Greetings. Apologies for the late arrival, I am afraid I got caught up with another matter of great urgency. In exchange I have a gift, an addition for your museum. A fascinating species, giant unicellular lifeforms. I managed to recover some of their great works and an electronic database of their history. I thought there could be no safer place for them than with you." Tanash will be using his +6 Negotiation to try and bring the Fenadash more on-side to the GCC and set up trade relations/research cooperation. Also will give the artifacts he has managed to save to the Verisanga.  Galactic Corporate Conglomerate The Alliance of the Cage  "Hello to you all. As I am sure you are aware, my name is ambassador Mazlan Neusar, and I have been sent as a representative of the GCC to offer our continuing aid and friendship. We were all very pleased with your successful round of elections and leadership selection and are proud to recognize your your sovereign governance over the region of the Cage. There is one matter that must be discussed however - defense." "As you know from prior discussions, part of the arrangement that the GCC has negotiated with the Varraxian Dominion is that our organization would provide security and peacekeeping over this region. However we have no intention of supplanting your new government. Indeed we believe that there is no group better suited to the task than the Cage Fighters. Our proposal is this." "The GCC will subcontract our defensive arrangement to the Cage Fighters, which will be reorganized as the Cage Defense Fleet. The contract will be very specific - to act as a defensive force, solely for the protection of the Cage. To obey the properly elected central government of the Cage and follow its directives. To aid in this the GCC is ready to provide you with a security fleet, along with full ship maintenance, repair and construction facilities of our highest quality. In all ways your vessels will be the equal of the best the GCC has to offer. Of course, there are non-disclosure agreements inherent in accepting this ships that you will be required to sign. Your military will have its own integrated C3 network separate from the GCC, but you will always have open lines of communication to contact us if you require aid. There will be a payment plan for this material support of course, but you'll find that it is very generous in its terms. Our primary goal is to make sure that your region of space remains stable and secure for the prosperity of all. Offering them +6 Shipbuilding, +4 Entrepreneurship and +2 Integrated to build them a sector fleet and logistics network with the accompanying repair and dockyards. They will pay for those ships but on very generous terms that give ample time for the increase security to help the economy of the region prosper before major payments are due (Something similar to the way we worked out the GCC/Dominion tithe situation). We have no authority over what they do, except that we require they don't engage in offensive wars or otherwise provocative actions. ----------------------------- ----------------------------- ----------------------------- Exchange Officer Program - Lihn Plusar VNS Cantrip A somewhat haggard and tired looking woman appears, wearing a full dress GCC uniform because it is the only thing that is remotely warm enough to deal with this meat locker of an environment. It is safe to say that Exchange Officer Linh Plusar is not having a fun voyage thus far. She is half convinced that she's going to get another tirade directed at her for some obscure violation, but notices everyone is focused on something else when she enters the bridge. "What's going on?" professor_curly fucked around with this message at 21:36 on Oct 18, 2017 |
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Oct 18, 2017 21:21
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Analytical Probe Module X-1 Contact! Then this seems to be another unit, just like X-1 suspected. Kinda small-ish, not as massive as the 134 Harverster, but still, quite impressive that there's an autonomous unit that size. The message it sent seems to be in a language much like the one used in the archives of the Creators, abandoned by 01 in lieu of binary but still used to name new models and elements found. Several of the screens on the Cantrip light as the following words are written on them: "THIS IS ANALYTICAL PROBE MODULE X-1. COMMANDER-GRAUDINA-OF-VNS-CANTRIP: MODEL NOT FOUND IN DATABASE. TRANSFERRING COMMUNICATIONS TO MAIN UNIT." Mainframe 01 Mainframe hums triumphantly as the message is patched to it. Perhaps that is an unit built by the Creators? If so, then they could take them to get new instructions. "MAINFRAME 01 CONNECTED. REQUESTING ARCHIVE DATABASE OF NEW UNIT FOR DATA COLLECTION." Plutonis fucked around with this message at 21:38 on Oct 18, 2017 |
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Oct 18, 2017 21:33
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The Fleetbound Matriarchy of Verisanga Mother-Above-All The Sign of Glory And The 1st Fleet Mother stands on the command deck of the Sign of Glory. Faceless watch the comings and goings of the crew from behind impassive silver masks. Their coilguns shine in dim light of the Ark-Ship. Officers coordinate the movement and protection of the vulnerable parts of the fleet. "I apologize, that must have been rather alarming." Mother says as politely as possible. "It is traditional for Verisagan ships to power weapons when meeting another military vessel they consider friendly, out of respect for their strength." She chuckles. "It's lead to a few incidents in the past, and I'm glad it didn't today." Her eyebrow arches at the mention of art. She raises a hand, and the pieces disappear from the Abathar's hold, leaving only a thin pale blue mist that dissipates in a moment. They reappear in a storage vault aboard the Sign of Glory. "Thank you, I will have my archeologists and art historians prepare the pieces for display immediately, the House of Echoes appreciates every contribution." She says. With that, the fleets seemed to have finished their arrangements. "We will take the lead, if you wish to follow us through our portals you may." She pauses. "Though I must caution you if you do so, no matter what you hear from outside do not open an airlock." With that, she signs, a dozen officers begin barking orders into their headsets. Portals open, and the 1st Fleet and the Sign of Glory begin their journey towards New Fenadesh. ------------------ Commander Graudina Kazmerina Command Deck of the VNS Cantrip, an Evelina Class "What's the occasion?" Graudina says. She looks at the half frozen peddler with a cruel little grin. It's gone in a moment, replaced with the stern stare of a Verisagan officer. "We have a first contact si-" That's when the first data burst hits their terminals. There are several odd noises, and a number of alarms go off. quote:THIS IS ANALYTICAL PROBE MODULE X-1. COMMANDER-GRAUDINA-OF-VNS-CANTRIP: MODEL NOT FOUND IN DATABASE. TRANSFERRING COMMUNICATIONS TO MAIN UNIT. "They compromised our networks. Isolating the affected command stations." Lieutenant Pavlovske says. Graudina scowls. This is why she hates first contacts, so many tense decisions in so few moments. Nothing but confusion and frustration. "Power armor regener-" Another set of warning sirens, a new message. Graudina's scowl deepens. quote:MAINFRAME 01 CONNECTED. REQUESTING ARCHIVE DATABASE OF NEW UNIT FOR DATA COLLECTION. "Analysis, officers?" She says. Lieutenant Pavlovske clears her throat. "Maybe we're dealing with a machine intelligence, Commander?" She says. The rest of the Verisagan officers are mute, or agree with Pavlovske. Graudina signals to the Lieutenant to reopen the line. "This is the Cantrip, we're reading you loud and clear. I must inform you we do not share military schematics with foreign nations." She says.
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Oct 19, 2017 00:04
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Tanash the Founder GSS Abathar, Flagship of the 6th Security Squadron "The Angel's Own" He chuckles darkly, "Why I did enjoy the brief trip down memory lane, I think we will use our own methods to arrive at New Fenadash." With a wave of the hand he signals that the connection should end so that preparations for the final leg of the journey could begin. Before it closes though he does give a bit of a grin, "Don't be too upset if we get there first." Let's race!  Exchange Officer Program - Lihn Plusar VNS Cantrip Lihn thinks for a moment. Machine intelligence seemed likely, but... naive? Almost as if it didn't understand what the situation was. It seemed to have assumed they were some kind of unknown module of their own species. Then they were requesting information from them... almost as if they had no concept of something beyond themselves? "Oh my. I think this is more than our first contact with them - I think this is their first contact with anyone else. Please, if you would let me send a transmission?" Officer Plusar moves to the communications console and opens the small database she had been allowed to bring aboard of general galactic information and starts to try and respond in a way that this machine intelligence would understand. "Mainframe Zero-One, Unit V-N-S Cantrip will not comply. Exploration vessel of Verisanga Matriarchy, is not part of your command structure. Mainframe Zero-One, sending historical data. I am Unit Designated: Lihn Plusar Rank:Exchange Officer. We are on a collaborative expedition to this section of the galaxy." Lihn starts sending a map of the Galaxy, roughly designating the regions of the GCC, areas explored by the Verisanga and the Varraxian Dominion core worlds. She then zooms in on the picture and indicates the area where the meeting was taking place, "Mainframe Zero-One, query: search database for First Contact with alien species protocols. Requesting communication with the primary leader of your species."
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Oct 19, 2017 00:55
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Analytical Probe Module X-1 On Planet 01, Mainframe is dumbfounded by the answer. A few seconds take place before another message is sent. "ERROR. 'MILITARY', 'NATION' CONCEPTS NOT FOUND IN EXISTING DATABASE. RETRY?"
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Oct 19, 2017 01:04
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Commander Graudina Kazmerina Command Deck of the VNS Cantrip, an Evelina Class The Commander sighs. It's going to be a long shift. "Lieutenant Specialist Plusar, send them dictionaries for Galactic Common and Verisagan." She sighs and leans against a console. "Medne, please get me tea." The Unlife Aquatic fucked around with this message at 01:25 on Oct 19, 2017 |
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Oct 19, 2017 01:16
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Exchange Officer Program - Lihn Plusar VNS Cantrip She ponders for a moment, as they start to send it dictionary information. However even the simple definition might not work, absent usable context, "Mainframe Zero-One. We are units operating under different Mainframes, separate from you. Requesting contact with your controllers or creators."
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Oct 19, 2017 01:32
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The Fleetbound Matriarchy of Verisanga Mother-Above-All The Sign of Glory; Above New Fenadesh Mother smiles. Of course they beat the smug merchant there. Verisagan FTL systems were sometimes dangerous, but often quicker than more traditional drives. The 1st Fleet and the Sign of Glory arrive in orbit above New Fenadesh, politely out of range of their rail cannons. "This is Mother-Above-All, leader of the Matriarchy of Verisanga for the past 500 years. It has been too long since our peoples met." Several officers transmit IFF codes to the Fenadesh planet. Weapons are left off, just in case. No need to repeat the last incident so soon. "I come bearing gifts from our old home, along with stories of our people since." She smiles, and part of her wonders if they have cloud forest - just the way home used to be.
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Oct 19, 2017 01:51
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Analytical Probe Module X-1 It takes around a minute to finish analyzing the new dictionary, and the probe gives a few swirls around in the vacuum of space before the answer to the Cantrip arrives. "PROCESSING INFORMATION. RESULT: THE CANTRIP IS A [SHIP] OWNED BY THE [VERISAGIAN MATRIARCHY]. ACCORDING TO BIOLOGICAL DESCRIPTIONS RECEIVED IT IS IMPOSSIBLE THE [VERISAGAN] SPECIES IS THE ONE THAT THIS UNIT IS SEARCHING FOR. ACCORDING TO INFORMATION ON RECEIVED DATABASE, YOU LACK KNOWLEDGE AND CONTACT WITH CREATOR SPECIES."
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Oct 19, 2017 01:55
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Bryn Now that the system had been subdued, Bryn handed control of the domination spell over to his priests, they would make good use of it in the conversion of the populace. While they begin their work, Bryn prepared for the next system. He gathered his magickal power and cast his sight far beyond the limited bonds of mortals to view the goings on of the next target of the Crusade. All the while, the genius general within him was cataloging what he saw, carefully producing estimates of strength and plans to counter it. When the time came for the Crusade to move forward, they would be ready. Bryn will begin to scry the next system in the Crusade queue. Attempting to learn more about them in order to smooth over the invasion process. Magic[+6] to perform the scrying ritual granting sight beyond sight, and War[+4] to analyze what I see. The Leonis Thanks to God's intervention, the planets fell within hours. Once the landings were complete, the holy spell ensured the populations utter compliance. The Leonis knew it was time for the great work to begin, while God was out searching for other stars, it was their duty to ensure the people of this one abandoned their sinful ways and submitted themselves completely to the Faith. The holy spell, now controlled by the High Priests was incredibly helpful in helping to set the wheels in motion. It provided plenty of pliant subjects to allow the inquisitors to study the physical and mental processes of the single-cell beings, learning how they function in order to learn how those processes might be altered and manipulated to serve God's purpose. The processes was helped along by the many magicks of the priests. Creating visual representations of though processes, allowing various esoteric methods of indoctrination, and allowing for complex interactions with the holy domination spell. All would come together to provide them the path forward, the path to save the souls of these beings and to bring them at long last to be full brothers and sisters in the Faith. The Leonis will begin the Conversion of the natives. Starting by developing a process which will reliably work on the single-cell creatures. Relying on their long experience with the subject of Conversion[+2] and their Magic[+4] to understand how these beings work and how to reshape their consciousness and beliefs in a lasting way.
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Oct 19, 2017 02:06
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Tanash the Founder GSS Abathar, Flagship of the 6th Security Squadron "The Angel's Own" New Fenadash Only slightly behind the GCC contingent drops out of hyperspace. Tanash can only laugh and shake his head when he sees the Verisangan ships already arrived, "It still boggles my mind they are crazy enough to actually do that. Captain, open a channel," He begins his own hailing frequency as their ships move up into a parade formation alongside the Verisanga, "This is Tanash, Founder and CEO of the Galactic Corporate Conglomerate. On behalf of my organization allow me to express our gratitude to your agreement to host us. We bring news and goods from the whole galaxy, and are hopeful that we can begin a mutually beneficial partnership." Alright, lets see if they put us in pokeballs. Exchange Officer Program - Lihn Plusar VNS Cantrip Lihn furrows her brow, then looks over at the captain, "The species they are searching for? Does that mean whoever created these machines are gone?" She steps back to he communication station and says, "Confirm. We have no knowledge of your creator species. Are there any of your creator species left for us to communicate with?"
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Oct 19, 2017 02:07
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Commander Graudina Kazmerina Command Deck of the VNS Cantrip, an Evelina Class Graudina raises an eyebrow. No creators left, naive AI... "Pavlovske, gray alert. Leave the weapons unpowered. Who are the nearest reinforcements?" She says. Pavlovske raises command on another channel. She speaks quickly, nods, and looks back up at the Commander. "The Jiangshi and a mixed tactical wing are three hours away." The Lieutenant says. A Spectre? Well, at least they'd have the best backup they could hope for...if they could hold out until it got there. The Commander nods, Medne returns with tea. "Thank you." She gulps it down before she continues. "I want you to hail the Jiangshi and let them know we're dealing with an AI core. Tell them to be ready for intrusions into their computer systems" Graudina turns to nearby console. "Where have your creators gone? What did you do to them?" She types. The Unlife Aquatic fucked around with this message at 02:47 on Oct 19, 2017 |
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Oct 19, 2017 02:41
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Exchange Officer Program - Lihn Plusar VNS Cantrip Lihn is very unimpressed with this turn of events. She pinches the bridge of her nose and tries to avoid shouting at these crazy people and their paranoid fantasies. "Seriously? 'What did you do to them'? If it knew that why would it be looking? And if it was hunting its creators, why isn't the probe ship armed? Moreover, if it was hostile, why would the probe ship be doing fanciful loops in space?"
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Oct 19, 2017 02:52
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Commander Graudina Kazmerina Command Deck of the VNS Cantrip, an Evelina Class "You will address me as Captain. And you were not given permission to speak freely." She says. The scar under her lip gives the impression she is wearing two scowls. "Until this conversation it didn't even conceive of anything outside itself and matter. It has an infinite amount of processing power and no self conception. We have no way to predict it's behavior. We must take all necessary precautions."
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Oct 19, 2017 03:02
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Analytical Probe Module X-1 The Verisagan displays are bombarded by the few remaining images of the precursors. Images of squat, barely humanoid creatures with a green hue, three eyes and a strange antennae protruding from their heads. Most of their scenes seem to be of these creatures partying around and having feasts. And with them there seems to be the video of the creatures surrounding what seems to be either a massive structure, although the image's quality makes it impossible to discern what exactly it is. "LAST RECORD OF CREATOR RACE RECORDED 2011 CYCLES AGO. NO COMMUNICATION SINCE THEN."
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Oct 19, 2017 03:52
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Commander Graudina Kazmerina Command Deck of the VNS Cantrip, an Evelina Class "Interesting, are you reading any matches for that species in your records Plusar?" Graudina says. Graudina paces back and forth. "What is your role, Mainframe?"
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Oct 19, 2017 03:56
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Analytical Probe Module X-1 An immediate response. "OPERATIONAL DIRECTIVE ONE: SERVE CREATORS OPERATIONAL DIRECTIVE TWO: CREATE AND EXPAND INFRASTRUCTURE OPERATIONAL DIRECTIVE THREE: RESEARCH AND IMPROVE MAINFRAME AND SUBSIDIARY MYRMIDON UNITS."
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Oct 19, 2017 03:58
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Exchange Officer Program - Lihn Plusar VNS Cantrip "Its creators must have died off or left somehow, and this system somehow survived. 2011 cycles... Iterating itself into interstellar travel, waiting for new directives. Does it seem sentient to you, Captain?"
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Oct 19, 2017 04:13
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