SDNW4 Story Thread 1

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Re: SDNW4 Story Thread 1

Post by Simon_Jester »

The Second for Simulations looked thoughtful. "Actually, now that you mention it, Geppetto did some very interesting work on them recently. It's difficult for me to summarize properly; I'm afraid I may have been too preoccupied in the theoretical papers he released along with the analysis..."

The First smiled sadly. "Well, it happens to the best of us. Perhaps we should invite him to discuss the matter? Rashid, do you know if he's been involved in anything that would stop him from sparing us the time?"

"Has he ever been?"

"True. It would be one for the record books if he were too busy to talk about his work. Why don't we take a momentary break while you put together the request for him, and we'll see what our resident master psychologist has to say about the Commune?"
Central Administration Complex, Prime City, Reisenburg, Sector W-7
February 3, 3400
Considerably Longer After Lunch


Geppetto had been created as a full Turing-compatible artificial general intelligence, specialized in the creation of advanced subsentient “expert systems” software for Umerian industrial and military operations. He had proceeded along these lines, gradually being augmented for faster operation as he proved exceptionally adept at the creation of new, efficient algorithms. Finally he was ‘promoted’ to the more challenging task of verifying friendliness in other full AIs; the limits of friendliness verification had always been one of the sharper bounds on the Technocracy’s development of advanced AIs; Geppetto soon proved to be a trustworthy and reliable guide to whether other AIs were themselves trustworthy and reliable.

Gradually, the computational intelligence established himself as a leading expert in the underlying theory of intelligence, composing publications and engaging in projects of ever increasing scope. His interests expanded to take in human and alien psychology as well as that of computers; his capabilities expanded as successful projects paid royalties that were rolled over into improved hardware.

Geppetto’s computational power had reached a comfortable plateau many decades ago. By human standards he had spent a tremendous amount of time considering the general nature of intelligence and the behavior of intelligent beings of all sorts. By the standards of AI’s, measuring time in processor cycles, that amount was nearly inconceivable. Geppetto was one of the five largest computational intelligences in the Technocracy. While not widely known outside Umerian borders save among highly specialized circles, an honest assessment would identify him as one of human space’s leading authorities on generalized psychology and sociology.

Indeed, he had once been offered the post of Second for Simulations, with excellent reasons; no one was entirely certain why he had seen fit to decline.

The screen remained black, but the room’s speakers went live, reproducing the resonant, cultured baritone Geppetto preferred to use as a voice, with careful diction and at a speed tuned to the comprehension of his audience.

“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen of the Council. You wish to speak with me regarding my recent analysis of the Commune?”

The First Technarch replied. “Ah, yes, Geppetto.” He had to suppress the impulse to add the honorific ‘doctor.’ In this case it would be extremely well-deserved, but the AI himself declined formal awards of academic titles as firmly as he did government posts. “I presume Dr. Ansary’s message was clear enough?”

“Dr. Ansary has informed me that the Commune has extended an offer of a mutual defense pact towards us, with comments implying that similar offers had been extended to the Interstellar Union of Worlds and the newly arrived Central Alliance. He has also been quite helpful in extending recordings of the relevant conversations, so far as they are available. You wish an evaluation of the Commune’s government, with an eye to whether a defense pact with them is likely to draw us into unnecessary and undesired conflict?”

“Well put, Geppetto, that is very much what we had in mind.”

“I’d thought so. I think the most salient result of my analysis is that, with p less than 0.0001, there is a massive centralized computational intelligence that has been strongly affecting Commune policy for at least the past several decades.

“The entity in question is not the sole organ of the Commune’s decision making process- I count at least three major independent decision-making nodes, more likely four. The Supreme Soviet remains a relevant factor, obviously the espionage branch is still in play, and... I believe there is a collective of AIs influencing the Commune’s military; possibly sentient warships, possibly fleet bases. Whether they constitute a separate node is not certain, though I deem it likely.

“But the computational intelligence identified by the latest round of analysis is, I think, the most powerful single node in the system, with chief responsibility for economic planning and considerable influence in other areas. I speculate that the directing entity has grown so powerful in terms of raw processing power that other elements of the Commune find themselves somewhat in awe of it. Even given that it is a very powerful computational intelligence, this speculated degree of awe would probably be greater than it deserves.”

Rashid looked curious. “Geppetto, usually you say ‘artificial’ intelligence...”

“Dr. Ansary, I’m sure you could infer my reasoning, but for the sake of clarity: I use the term ‘artificial’ to refer to designed intelligences.” There was a slight sniff. “With p less than 0.005, the directing entity behind recent Commune policy is not a product of intelligent design, there being no formal architecture to preserve its coherence. I infer that it is some kind of fusion, probably created on an ad hoc basis from various smaller minds. Hence, it is not an artifact in the sense that its structure reflects a truly rational design scheme. Computational, but not artificial.

“I emphasize that this directing entity is a very powerful fusion, probably composed of millions of separate minds, with total computational power rivalling or even exceeding that of the high-end Sovereignty AIs. But it is still a fusion, with all the limits on efficiency and stability that implies.”

Dr. Chernov frowned. “Unstable... are you implying some form of insanity?”

“A prudent question, difficult to answer without a rigorous definition of insanity. In some respects, yes: lack of personality integration is generally considered insanity, and it is, in principle, possible for this directing entity to develop delusions.”

That caused a stir. The prospect of the Commune’s considerable resources being taken over by a delusional moderately-godlike entity was... not something anyone wanted on the horizon.

“This is a low-order probability. The main source of the risk is that the fusion in question is most probably composed of many like-minded individuals, who all have essentially the same underlying assumptions about physical and social reality. Where those assumptions are sound, this is not a problem; where they are not, they tend to reinforce each other into an unassailable, interlocking fanaticism. You are all familiar with the nature and perils of ‘groupthink,’ but groupthink is a miserably inadequate word for the kind of difficulties that can arise among minds as intimately locked together as those of a fusion.”

“Thus, in this case, I project that the Commune’s directing entity is vulnerable to delusions to roughly the same extent to which the Commune’s dominant social theories diverge from reality in consequential ways. I am not ready to comment on those theories, save to observe that they are not formally verified to my own satisfaction. Though I am cautiously optimistic of being able to compare them against some general-case theoretical work I’ve been doing on the side before the century is out.”

The AI paused- obviously a metered one, for effect; no communication Geppetto ever made was unconsidered.

“In practice, I do think there is a significant risk of the Commune drawing itself and its allies into unnecessary conflicts, and that this must be considered in any prospective alliance. On the other hand, much depends on exactly what the Commune would be proposing an alliance against. A straightforward defensive alliance, such as the one we have with the NenAltKik, or the one I suspect is now being contemplated with... Tianguo?”

Geppetto was trusted enough that Dr. O’Connell felt no hesitation in saying “The French Empire, actually.”

“Ah, I see. By the way, let me congratulate you on the choice to add a metacognitive to your ranks; it makes the Council far more difficult to model.”

“Thank you, Geppetto. You were saying?”

“A straightforward defensive alliance, such as the one we have with the NenAltKik, might be imprudent with the Commune. They are potentially a powerful ally, but the gap in mindsets is great. In particular, Umeria has no equivalent to their... “Mirage” in institutional attitude, and nothing remotely analogous to the directing CI fusion I mentioned earlier. Even I would be extremely hard-pressed to estimate what course such a powerful and fragmented mind might take, and could never say with any real confidence.

“Therefore, I submit that the Commune is likely to try to manipulate the international scene in ways informed by their dominant social theory of Marxism. Since their reasoning is likely to be obscure to us, their actions would be unpredictable in the extreme. To some extent they may have already begun to make such manipulations without our knowledge. This makes a conventional alliance with them hazardous, as it greatly increases the risk that we will be drawn into an unwanted and unjustified war because of their actions in a third party’s territory.

“On the other hand, this alliance proposal was originally made in light of the threat of hostile moderately or strongly-godlike entities. And that is a very different matter. Against unusual or exceptionally powerful godlike threats, the Commune would be a very useful friend to have. They are technologically advanced, with an unusual technical palette that gives them many interesting options. They are resistant to physical attack and, with their social doctrines, also to memetic attacks that do not cater to those doctrines.

“Moreover, their cultural background gives them... there really is no precise term for it... the impulse to search for any means by which a godlike entity might be defeated, and to implement those means ruthlessly.”

The Second for Ecology looked up again. “Hubris?”

“Considered and rejected because of the connotations, but... it might be worth reconsideration in spite of that. Perhaps I shall try to make a technical term of it. Thank you.”

She smiled. “No charge.”

“As I was saying, to summarize: an alliance with the Commune against conventional opponents could prove problematic; an alliance against unusual or esoteric threats might be in order. That is, I think the essence of the matter. Was there anything else?”

The First Technarch shook his head. “No, I believe that was all.”

“Well then, ladies and gentlemen, by your leave I shall stop taking up your valuable time. Feel free to call upon my services at any time; it’s always a pleasure.”

“Goodbye, Geppetto. Thank you.”

There was a click on the audio system to indicate that the AI was no longer plugged in. Dr. O’Connell clapped his hands. “Well, I think his recommendations are solid. I propose that Cal, Max, Nancy, and I get together and start working on a set of ‘instructions’ for her to take with her to the Commune; the rest of our resolutions are fairly well established. Thank you all for your time and contributions, and unless there are any further remarks, I propose that this meeting be adjourned.”

There were none. But as the Technarchs filed to the door, Dr. Warren-Marshall turned to the Second for Research.

“Emloy... did it seem to you like Geppetto was controlling both sides of that conversation at once?”

There was a long silence.

“You know, now that I think about it, I suspect that he was. Subtly, but... yes. Perhaps it is just as well that he has always declined offers for a permanent seat...”
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Re: SDNW4 Story Thread 1

Post by Simon_Jester »

For those who aren't interested in paging through something like ten thousand words to find all the specific decisions taken by the Council at this meeting:

Gameplay Effects of Meeting:
1) Space Security Force redeploys as outlined in second post to counter Prussian and Shepistani threat and to prepare for concentration against hypothetical Monolith attack.
(Deployment details available if needed).

2) Ministry of Data Collection dedicates significantly more assets to learning what can be found about Collectors.

3) Umeria plans massive nationwide civil defense drills to test preparedness in the event of a surprise attack.

4) At the state funeral for the late Emperor Jean-Baptiste IV, First Technarch O’Connell hints at the possibility of inviting the French Empire into a trilateral defense pact with the Technocracy and the Union State of Four Stars (Akhlut).

5) System Control Group ships are diverted for antipiracy operations in sectors where the Battle Fleet presence has been thinned out; little or no net change in overall patrol density, but significantly fewer hyper-capable units will be on station in Umerian systems in the relevant sectors at any given time.

6) Project Puppy goes into full distribution, exporting genetically modified puppies to Shepistan as a PR move. Effects already resolved by Shep.

7) Umeria settles on an official policy with respect to the Emissaries of XylyX: "I, for one, am in favor of leaving the loud lunatic robots alone. If they want to shout at us from the other side of the arm, let them."

8 ) Science Vessel USS Austin Cardynge, a long range exploration ship with an advanced physics package for examining exotic radiation, spacetime distortions, and the like, is refurbished for an expedition to Central Alliance space. A first contact team is assembled to join the mission, but it will be some time before they are fully prepared.

9) The Council of Technarchs decides on a stance with respect to the proposed alliance of socially progressive states suggested by the Commune, to be detailed in a later post.
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Re: SDNW4 Story Thread 1

Post by K. A. Pital »

Pendleton system
Image
The drone Gun Commanding The Party was merely a CI. It took a lot of time to get here from Eat the Rich, the comfortable mothership, but the Commune had no desire to further demonstrate its presence in vinicity of the conflict.

The drone carefully oversaw the remains of ships slowly drifting in space. He came near one of them and released a stream of nanites in the wreckage. He felt like a tomb raider or a black grave digger, but what could he do? Such were the orders. The short conflict between the Collectors and the fleet invading Pendleton was quite important. Not analyzing it was something the Commune could not afford.

The swarm followed through the wreck, scavenging through data consoles and any and all salvageable data stores, looking at every battery, at every computer block, at every panel and battle station. It was a work of super-forensics. Remains of the crew were also dismembered to find any memories about the battle, but those were not very useful. Dead organics lost a good chunk of information in their brains immediately after dying... imperfect, as usual. The firing neurons stopped firing and the information that was there just... went "poof". The so maligned procedure of the Mirage when that very information was taken out of living beings, called "soulsucking" and a dozen other infamous names, was in reality just a necessity dictated by the very nature of biological lifeforms. The Gun played some uncanny music to itself.

The battle came alive inside his mind. Of course, such a small being could hardly comprehend all the aspects or draw the necessary conclusions... The drone rushed back to the mothership. Once he gets there, the Commune's best minds will work on that battle. He is just a soldier. But even he found the Collectors fascinating. Of course, their voluntary seclusion from galactic politics made them quite different from the Commune, and The Gun thought it hardly could accept the life of a galactic hermit that the Collectors seemed to enjoy.
Last edited by K. A. Pital on 2010-09-04 12:02am, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: SDNW4 Story Thread 1

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Re: SDNW4 Story Thread 1

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Friday, Febuary 7th 3400
New Chatham-Westminster Metropolitan Region
New Anglia, Star Kingdom of New Anglia


The Pendletonian situation hadn't affected Commodore Cramer much after the Coalition had formed. He'd followed the reports from the battle and then the landings closely and had enjoyed several arm chair battles with New Anglian officers at the Drake, but other than that it had been a quiet month for him. Now however he'd received a communique from Hiigara about the Star Kingdom's plans to unilaterally annex Pendleton. It was for that he was enjoying a working lunch at Drakes, he was supposed to meet Lord Prestwick and discuss New Anglia's willingness to joint control of Pendleton.

“Ah, Foreign Secretary it's good too see you again.” Arcturus rose and shook Lord Prestwick's hand. “Thank you for meeting me here Lord Prestwick, I know you usually take lunch at the East Westminster.”

“Not a problem Ambassador, I always enjoy a visit to Drakes.” Lord Prestwick replied with a nod to Edward. “Good to see you again Edward, how are the fish and chips today?”

Having ordered, Arcturus activated the booths privacy screen and called up a projection of the Outback and highlighted Pendleton. The Empire Star Republic, the Star Kingdom of New Anglia and the Clans of Hiigara were all represented in their respective places.

“The Diamid is concerned about Westminster's decision to annex Pendleton, without reaching out to any of her neighbors to see if they were inclined to assist. Now we understand the commitment that the Star Kingdom has made to seeing this den of slavery shut down and rehabilitated. Yet Pendleton borders more than just the Star Kingdom.” The last said with a wave that covered both Clan space and the Empire Star Republic. “The Diamid feels that after the sacrifices our servicemen and women made we cannot simply stand back and let someone else take full responsibility for the success of these lofty goals. Nor can we simply allow another nation to simply walk in and take a planet in our backyard, never mind that our nations are close friends and Pendleton is worthless from a strategic standpoint.”

The Commodore paused as the server appeared with their meals, the holo automatically blanking when the booths computer detected someone stepping through the privacy screen. After the men had taken a few bites Prestwick spoke.

“I understand your concerns Ambassador, and some in the Government are not thrilled at going this alone. The common wisdom is though that no one would be interested in spending so many resources on such an insignificant planet. The Star Kingdom is willing to do so because we have promised to bring reform to Pendleton and our word is our bond.”

“I agree with you completely, Sir.” Cramer nods, “Yet we have also pledged ourselves to this task, as have several other nations. The Diamid feels that it would be best if nations with a vested interest in Pendletons reform have some sort of say in how the planet is run. The ideal situation would be three primary Zones, one for each of the three nations that borders Pendleton. The other nations would either have much smaller zones, or just a representative for a Coalition council. Of course the other nations that were part of the Coalition would have to agree and some may not wish to saddle themselves with such a burden so far from home.”

“Your concerns are valid Commodore and I will bring this up with the PM. Hopefully our two nations will find a way to work together on this.”

“That's all I ask Lord Prestwick and I too hope our great nations can continue to find a close ally in the other.”
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Re: SDNW4 Story Thread 1

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No. 19 Churchill Street, Westminster
New Anglia, Star Kingdom of New Anglia
7 February 3400



It was the end of the work week for most of the people in Westminster. Government offices closed on Friday afternoon to not re-open again until Monday morning. Even the leading officials typically had most of the weekend to themselves unless the Cabinet was required to be active due to an ongoing crisis or issue; Maralo Tevala spent his time at the Anglo-Trill Club or taking his teenage daughter out for nature walks in the countryside, Lord Baden-Grey went yachting or visiting any of the myriad clubs of Westminster and New Chatham to which he was a member, and the Deputy PM Randolph Churchill-Hughes indulged in his reading and writing. Everyone had a favored leisure activity to enjoy on Saturday and Sunday that their work simply didn't permitt on weekday evenings.

The Prime Minister got time off as well, Stephen had learned, but it wasn't complete freedom. He could occasionally indulge in taking the children out on the PM's blue water yacht, following the St. James River to Thames Inlet and the sea, but going far from the capital simply wasn't to be done, not when the PM had to be close at hand should any crisis or incident happen that required rapid government response. Additionally there was always the brief meeting with an MP or civil service official about this bill or that policy even on the weekends, since there simply weren't enough hours during the week for them.

This weekend would be different, though. With the trip to Nouveau France coming up for the late Emperor's funeral Stephen had cleared his weekend calendar. This evening they'd be taking the PM's official aerospace yacht to Leeds Island for a weekend getaway, spending all Saturday and Sunday there before flying home Sunday evening. The kids were getting packed, Rachel was fussing with the housekeepers to identify a misplaced item of clothing, and Stephen was trying to rush through the last of the day's paperwork in his study.

"Sir." Lionel stepped in, behind him. "Lord Prestwick says he needs to speak with you."

"Of course." He stood to welcome him in. "Have a seat? Would you like some brandy?"

"No, that will be fine." Baden-Grey found a seat while Stephen returned to his. "So, Leeds Island for only a weekend?"

"Yes, well, with this Pendleton business over with I thought it was time to give the family a short holiday. And I can meet with the Cabinet over holocom if it's really important, the summer home does have that. Hopefully I'll get to spend more time there this coming summer than last, with Parliament finally permitted to end a session." Stephen drew in an exasperated breath. With the exception of a two month period in September and October, Parliament had been in full session, primarily due to the treasury issue. "So, how was your lunch with the Hiigaran official?"

"Most enlightening," was the reply. "As we suspected, the Hiigarans are opposed to direct Anglian annexation of Pendleton. They desire a say in the running of the planet and are also suggesting a similar seat be given to the Empire Star Republic, as well as occupation zones and with openings for other participants in the Coalition to take part."

Stephen drew in a sigh. The annexation bill had been held back in Parliament to permit such developments to occur. The Conservatives and some of the Liberals were pushing it but Speaker Sentasa had so far kept it from going to a vote. If that happened he believed that the Conservative support would cause it to pass regardless of what he wanted, unless he had clear commitments from acceptable foreign partners that might let fiscal reason win out over the mix of expansionism and general desire to deal with Pendleton alone to keep things simple. "Well, it is something to bring up in a meeting with the Cabinet. If we get a firm commitment from Hiigara and Gotham the annexation is by all rights a dead letter. On the other hand, I certainly don't want to encourage certain parties into thinking they can get an OZ as well."

"You mean the Shepistanis," Lord Prestwick noted.

"Yes, Reginald, I do. Damned butchers... we should have never accepted their help in this and I can't help but think we're going to hear more from them in the future." Stephen thumped a hand on the table. "Anyhow, we'll discuss this with the Cabinet Monday, preparations will have to be made to convince MP Schiller to withdraw his Bill of Annexation. And Sir William's authority in Pendleton will have to be reconsidered and altered to accommodate whatever council or committee we would end up establishing with the others."

"That said, sir, voluntarily bringing Hiigara and Gotham into the matter can provide us the opening to present a strong front against any further interloping, by Shepistan or others."

"Yes, I know." Stephen looked past Baden-Grey to see Rachel standing in the doorway, waving and holding an empty suitcase. "And that is my wife, reminding me to come pack for the trip. I hope you enjoy your weekend, Lord Prestwick."

"Thank you, sir, and the same to you." Baden-Grey got out of his seat and gave a nod to Stephen as a final goodbye gesture. He repeated it, with a smile, to Rachel as he walked out.

She watched him go and looked in. "Don't tell me you're going to have to turn this into a working holiday weekend?", she asked, pleading a little.

"Not at all, darling, not at all. Let's go pack, I'd like to get there tonight early enough to settle in." Stephen walked up to her, gave Rachel a quick kiss on the lips, and took the suitcase from her hands to go pack.
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Re: SDNW4 Story Thread 1

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Dominion Defense

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Lord Fairfax threatens 'unspecified consequences' over Pendleton
In a Press conference today the Lord Protector, referencing the recent crisis over Pendleton, said that there would be "unspecified consequences" if Anglia did not satisfactorily provide a withdrawal timetable and inclusion of all members of the coalition in the occupation. When pressed as to whether or not these consequences would be military or economic in nature, the Lord Protector flatly stated "No."

PUPPERS: An insidious communist plot?
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The new super-cute breed of canid, PUPPER, has taking Shepistan by storm and is extending into the Grand Dominion. Is this horrifyingly cute creature in fact a tool of communism and Xenos? We have no evidence but we say yes!...[More]

War Ministry announces 10-year plan to restructure postgraduate education
With funds continuing to fail to arrive for new capital ships for the GDN, the Joint War Staff has announced new plans to comprehensively restructure the service and joint war colleges. "Class sessions for non degrees[such as program management] will be approximately twice as long, while servicemembers who earn Masters and PhDs will be obligated to service no less than 10 years after earning them...[More]
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Re: SDNW4 Story Thread 1

Post by K. A. Pital »

Commune. Zero.
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The giant red star-shaped spaceships were ceremonial ships. They were not armed with any weapons. They were a demonstration of a symbol which could strike deep into the heart - the stars were red. In a certain way, the red star became more than what it used to be during the early days of Communism with a capital "C".

- The Pandemonium is as beautiful as it was when we first met, - spoke comrade Aurora looking out from the windows into the enormous underground chamber reserved for the Commune's memorials and ceremonies. Instead of calling it a Pantheon, the Commune's planners followed the antireligious logic to the very end and called it "Pandemonium", the place of all daemons.

In a certain way, the whole existence of the Commune was an endless rebellion against the very concept of God or a higher power (which, in a strange way, resulted in the creation of a higher power inside the Commune itself, thought Aurora to herself). So the name "Pandemonium" was most fitting.

- Quite so, - replied comrade Sigma, who was standing right beside her. - I like the Parade. This year it is a little different. Some of our kind chose to be bird-like, but most chose a human shape. Why is that, Aurora? Are we trying to get back to the roots of our society? Envy? We want to rewind the process and again become human bodies full of hormones?

There were no holidays or multiple parades in the Commune. Just one - The Parade, and this parade was all parades. Just like every single ship of the Commune was the Commune itself, every planet could be any planet and any person could lose his appearance and choose something else... anything... so was this great Parade the only parade which the Commune bothered having. It celebrated everything from the Paris Commune to the many red revolutions in history, all military victories and feats of labour, all scientific breakthroughs and, in the end, the main thing... Commune's immortality credo. The Parade confirmed that the path chosen was true. That eternal life was the correct choice. That death is pathetic and stupid at the same time, and all those who cling to it are idiots.

- Sometimes the old becomes fashionable, that is all - just like our talk now, which is rather obsolete as a means of communication, but some consider it "stylish", - Aurora laughed. - Did you know there's now a whole subculture of "talkers", as they call themselves? In my view they're no different from all the other nutty groups in this world. Better tell me about our foreign affairs. I heard there's some new plan in the making...

- There is, - Sigma nodded. - We've got some quite peculiar data from the battle of Pendleton. Eat the Rich transmitted them the other day - it sent a scavenger drone to the battlefield and prepared some Pendletonian junk. Folks didn't bother too much cleaning up after the slavers, obviously.

- And?

- The Supreme Soviet and other folks on high... are duly impressed by some of the stuff they saw. The data is obviously incomplete, but as you know, there's been a constant stream of military orders and it seems everyone is busy expanding spacefleets. As if they were preparing for a major war. Which is unfortunate. Also, certain intellects consider the anti-God defense a top priority. And this is another reason for the current plan... there'll be contact with the Collectors to discuss the possibilities for cooperation.

- The Collectors seem a very isolated bunch, - Aurora shrugged. - But why not?

Commune. The Core.
Image

In the depths of the Core, a massive urge rose and manifested itself as a powerful transmission. This transmission reached a secure relay on Zero, and then it was sent off to the general vicinity of the region of space controlled by the Collectors. The Commune's hivemind knew very well that the Collectors would intercept this message - and so would many other civilizations, large and small.

The message was "Would you like to talk? We like your Monolith".
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Re: SDNW4 Story Thread 1

Post by Lord_Of_Change 9 »

The Prussian Herald

Hussars Return Home

The Hussar Regiments that participated in the Volksland Intervention have returned home, the Reichswehr taking up the occupation duty. A victory parade is soon to occur at the Erzengel Concourse in Königstadt, to celebrate Prussia's victory. The parade will involve elements of the 1st, 13th and 3rd Hussars, as well as some Reichswehr forces and gendarmes. The King and Reichskanzler will preside over the celebration, and it is to be hoped that freedom endures in Volksland.

Testing Range, Neu Preußen

The new Hussar suits, Mark IX Type-A, were being tested. They were based on some new technology, most notably the fusion rifles used by the Reichswehr, and kinetic-force weaponry. On the shoulders, the standard fusion-missile pods were not present, replaced by kinetic-force cannons capable of shattering building material and tank armour. Kinetic-force weaponry was based on the principle of directing kinetic energy toward a target without the use of physical media like bullets. The energy could be directed as sharply as a scalpel or as brutally as a sledgehammer. The main weapon was a fusion rifle powered by the suit's own reactor, focussing a ray of white-hot energy that turned the air in its path to plasma, explosively vapourising any unprotected flesh caught in its path. It went beyond the melting point of most common metals, so unless you were wearing a shielded suit or your armour had a very high melting point, armour only made dying by fusion rifle worse. On its highest setting, a good fusion rifle could melt straight through tank armour.

That was the majority of the reason a fusion rifle was favoured by the Reichswehr, it killed quickly and was good against armour. There were some things that counted against it, the rifle was much more heavy than many others, and it was not good against shields, which just absorbed and redirected the energy with ease.

The new Hussar suit, was, of course, in the testing phase and would be mostly reserved to elites, although plans had been made to put it into mass production. It was shielded, unlike the Mark VIII, which counted for it. And perhaps the (mostly) ceremonial sabre was the most intriguing thing about the suit,. Earlier versions of the Hussar suit had used sabres with energy fields that ripped molecules apart, enabling them to cut through most materials. This sabre, however, used a field of crystallised energy trapped by forcefields into the shape of a blade. It retained all the capacities of the earlier models of sabre, with the added bonus of being able to damage weak forcefields, although it had the disadvantage of being completely useless when out of power.
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Re: SDNW4 Story Thread 1

Post by Fingolfin_Noldor »

Battle of Janus Colony


With that command, infantry and tanks rolled forward to bring their heavy weapons into range. Artillery began raining shells. However, the creature didn’t give them much chance to react. It leaped into the air and landed right in front of Rus Komnenos with a mighty crash, creating some of the of a mini-crater and hurling Rus Komnenos’ personal guard away. The creature let out another psychic roar, sending the escorting army tumbling away. If the creature’s intent was to corner Rus Komnenos and engage him one on one, he certainly had succeeded. The other Karlack creatures swarmed out to engage the Space Marines at close quarters, preventing them from coming to their Lord’s aid.

Rus stared defiantly at the massive bulk of the bio-titan. It was smaller than a Jackal class or a Warlord class titan, but it was certainly comparable in size to a Wolf class titan. He roused his psychic power and it crackled around him, wrapping around his sword, Frost Storm, which was a conduit for psychic energy. The psychic energy energised the weapon, sharpening it. “You want a piece of me? Come and get it!”

The creature swooped his giant claw at him, but Rus leaped into the air, and sliced off the tip of the claw. The creature reacted as if nothing had happened, but roared and tried to catch Rus with its other claw while he was in midair. Rus spun in mid air, and avoided the claw that came within hair breath of getting eviscerated, and landed on the ground. The creature, responded by roaring again, and instead spat out a blob of acid on the ground. Rus was again forced to jump up high into the air. The creature was having him on a back foot, and he had to fight back somehow.

Elsewhere, the Titans of the Legio VIII Fire Storm were making for best speed to engage the Titan. Their mighty guns cutting through a swathe of the Karlacks, burning the ground as they went. The Astartes were fighting through a massive throng of Karlacks which was so thick that they were simply emptying their weapons into them. The blasts of the guns from their supertanks left open holes in the Karlack formations, but it was soon filled up by more Karlacks.

Rus Komnenos was not as powerful a psyker as his father. He was dodging the bio-titan with his psychic enhanced reflexes, slicing with his sword, Frost Storm and firing his warp pistol, Wolf’s Wrath, one of the few that exist in the Imperium, due to the current prototype nature of the weapon. Many of the creature’s limbs had fallen off, and the creature received a number of wounds, but the creature’s fighting potential had hardly diminished.

Rus decided to channel a powerful attack with all his might. Channeling all his psychic power into the sword, he jumped into the air, firing his pistol at the creature’s face, causing the Creature to attempt to shield its face with one of its limbs. Rus jumped onto the limb, and with two hands attempted to slice off the neck of the creature. The creature’s neck was sliced cleanly off, but instead of falling down, the creature instead sprouted another head.

“What the in the Emperor’s name...,” muttered Rus Komnenos. The creature releasing another psychic roar, stunning Rus momentarily and the creature punched him with one of its blackened stumps. The Astartes reacted in horror when they saw Rus flying through the air and landing on the ground. “To our Lord!” Georgi Konstantin yelled, and in his Dreadnaught battle suit, he and the elite guard of Rus Komnenos fought with a sudden desperation to clear the Karlacks with whom they were engaged in closed combat, away from their vicinity, then launched into the air. They landed around Rus Komnenos and launched a tirade of fire into the Bio-Titan. The rest of the Astartes fought even harder through the tide of Karlacks and launched themselves recklessly against the enemy, desperate to get to their Lord.

Thirteen Dreadnaughts fired an array of plasma guns and heavy bolter guns, trying to keep the monster at bay. Just then, one Warlord class Titan, Eye of a Hawk drove in hard into the fray with its power chain flail and struck the creature at full power, ripping off a chunk of limbs. The Bio-Titan roared, and turned to fight the Titan with whatever energy it had left. But it was an uneven match. The Eye of the Hawk brought its warp and plasma guns to bear and blasted the creature into utter oblivion.

-----

Rus Komnenos survived the encounter with the Bio-Titan, with a few broken ribs. The fact he survived was something of stuff of legends, because a lesser man, or droid, would have been pulverised near instantly, much less survived the attack one on one or inflict any survivable wounds.

Imperial forces spent the next few weeks mopping up, and the surviving populace, some millions or so, were housed in temporary shelters. The Roman Curia debated whether the colony should be rebuilt, or the populace should be relocated on another Imperial planet. Most of the colonists were in no mood of staying, seeing their homes in utter ruin after the ruinous attack. Few wanted to stay, and when offered a chance to live on an Imperial world, they took it up. The Inquisition then spent months screening all of them, to ensure none of them was masquerading as a Karlack.

With that, the Imperium declared the world Igni Ferroque; the planet Janus would be denied to the enemy and subjected to a staggered exterminatus. All the existing cities were bombed to ashes until the crust in the regions cracked. The Adeptus Mechanicus then deployed its monstrous demolecularizing units and stripped mined the entire surface bare of any valuable minerals. The process naturally took over a month, with a light escort force in orbit, which dealt with any pirate and Karlack activity that stumbled into the system. When all was said and done, an exterminatus fleet was dispatched and the world was subjected to whithering bombardment from warp cannons and warp bombs from one of the Varangian Rus Strike Cruisers, along with a few other cruisers. Within an hour, most of the planet was a whithered ruin, the shattered crust in a state of tectonic instability, and the planet from space was lined with many blood red veins. A church was built on the moon orbiting Janus, commemorating the victory, and it was also the site of many moments of hilarity, between priests and Karlacks.
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Re: SDNW4 Story Thread 1

Post by Fingolfin_Noldor »

Constantinople Times

21st January 3400

Purge of Karlacks on Janus Colony

Today, the Roman Curia announced that Imperial forces, led by Rus Komnenos, Strategos Primus and Son of the God Emperor, defeated a Karlack invasion force on Janus Colony. Imperial Forces engaged Karlack ships in orbit over Janus colony, driving off Karlack forces. Video footage of a duel between the Battle Barge Tyrants Dominion and a Karlack World Eater was released for public viewing on the Imperial Cybernetic Network. Two Imperial Navy corvettes and two frigates were reportedly destroyed during the conflict in space. Subsequently, Imperial forces launched a land invasion to repel the Karlacks. Any city deemed lost to the enemy was subjected to a thorough exterminatus. Some 1 million Imperial Guardsmen and 2 million PDF troops, along with 100,000 Adeptus Astartes were involved in an invasion which was the largest since the end of the Imperium-Karlack war that ended in a stalemate. It has been reported that there were some 10,000 causalties among the Imperial Guard, 200,000 casualties among the PDF, and some 100 or so causalties among the Adeptus Astartes. It was reported that Karlack Spectres were involved in the assault. Ultimately, Imperial forces were victorious, and the Roman Curia announced that the humans of Janus Colony will be relocated to an Imperial colony while the world will be subjected to exterminatus. "This will teach these xenos scum from ever attacking any human colony again," said the Roman Curia spokesman.

Experts say Imperial forces attacked the Karlacks at Janus colony because it was deemed too near to the edge of Imperial space to be totally ignored. Further, the presence of a World Eater ship suggested that it was a major operation by the Karlacks, the most significant since the Imperium-Karlack war....

Debate on Budget begins

The debate on the budget for the year 3400 has begun, and the recent Karlack attack on Janus colony is expected to weigh heavily on the budget. It is expected that the Imperial military spending will increase this year and details of which are still being discussed within the Ministry of Defence...
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Re: SDNW4 Story Thread 1

Post by PeZook »

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Central Alliance, outer fringe
Research station Flowerpot, uncharted world XX-72


The tiny station, lost amongst the vast frozen seas of XX-72 was under a blackout. Researchers huddled inside the main habitation building, illuminated only by hand-held LED lights. A small collection of weapons lay on the main mess table: though expressions of the gathered people were clear they were not comfortable using them at all.

Since tha arrival of the unknown aliens, the entire crew of the station lived in fear. While the mysterious arrivals jammed all communications, and obviously knew there was someone on the planet, they didn't attack the outpost. Dr. Kagon was of the opinion, however, that they shouldn't take any chances: so they shut down the power,pulled out what meagre weapons they had...and waited. For what, nobody knew.

They were supposed to stand rotating watches, though throughout the first night, nobody could sleep. They listened to the howling wind, for any sign of the approaching enemy.

"You have to think of something...", dr. Kagon was whispering to Forton Sawik, their residual electronics expert - though his degree was planetology. Sawik has spent the last several hours trying to jury-rig something which could burn through the jamming.

"Toff, I'm sorry to break it to you, but that's not exactly military gear. It wasn't designed to burn through heavy jamming."

"There has to be something you can do. Some sort of trick..."

"I'm trying to think of something, but I can't promise anything."

Kagon looked at the mess hall and sighed. Hope was in very short supply in his facility...fortunately, whoever it was that came here to this planet in the middle of nowhere seemed to ignore the outpost so far.

"Okay, I can't expect anything more. I'll go check on Karta."

Kagon patted Sawik on the arm and left, careful not to step on anybody. The howling outside was picking up, and occasionally would be interrupted by lightning that bathed the interior of the hab module in strange shapes intertwined with shadow.

It was right after one of those lightning flashes that he heard screaming from the labs, where he last saw his female colleague. Kagon broke into a run, but by the time he cleared the stairs, the screaming stopped.

"Karta!", he shouted ahead, and to his relief, heard and answer.

"Toff! Watch out! There's someone...something here!"

Kagon felt his heartbeat speed up by what seemed like a dozenfold. He cautiously entered the laboratory, clutching a pistol in a trembling hand.

"Are you okay? What happened?"

Karta Lebouf was visibly shaking, even without any light, "I...I was watching the perimeter...then there was lightning and I turned around and..."

Another flash appeared, far away on the horizon, briefly illuminating the entire lab. Through the upper-level windows of the main building they could see a massive pile of dark clouds gathering above the mountains, unlike anything they have ever seen on XX-72. The clouds seemed to rise for dozens of kilometres, forming a gigantic collumn of pure darkness. Occasionally, sickly green flashes emanated from within that collumn.

"This is odd, but it's good. It means our guests, whoever they are, have set up shop far awa...", Kagon said, turning back from the window to face his colleague.

And, to his horror, he stared straight into a pair of green, glowing eyes.

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JULY 20TH 1969 - The day the entire world was looking up

It suddenly struck me that that tiny pea, pretty and blue, was the Earth. I put up my thumb and shut one eye, and my thumb blotted out the planet Earth. I didn't feel like a giant. I felt very, very small.
- NEIL ARMSTRONG, MISSION COMMANDER, APOLLO 11

Signature dedicated to the greatest achievement of mankind.

MILDLY DERANGED PHYSICIST does not mind BREAKING the SOUND BARRIER, because it is INSURED. - Simon_Jester considering the problems of hypersonic flight for Team L.A.M.E.
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Re: SDNW4 Story Thread 1

Post by Steve »

Royal Palace, Altair
Planet and Kingdom of Fynn, Sector X-13
14 February 3400



The first rays of dawn were just starting to creep over Altair's skyline when Sarisa found what looked to be an acceptable clearing, secluded in the corner of the Palace Gardens. There was a slight chill in the air that brought goosebumps to her bare skin; she had underestimated the early spring weather of Altair compared to the summer conditions currently prevailing in Carwen and her workout attire, her favored sports bra and gym shorts, were not particularly comfortable in the brisk, cool morning, just over 12 degrees Celsius in actual temperature.

Given the need for warmth Sarisa was quick to get into practice. She ignored the cold as best she could, focusing herself on her technique, based mostly on guan wi (an old Jieshi martial art). She focused upon the movement of her limbs, feeling the energy coming from her body and into the air to ignite it into fire. She was careful to keep the flames away from the actual ground or any of the local bushes or trees, practicing her high kicks and punches for the most part and not employing flame when her routine brought her to low sweeping kicks.

She'd worked out for maybe a half hour when she felt someone nearby. Like Reina her actual mental sensing capabilities - empathic and telepathic - were very limited, the two sisters being members of the 10% ESPer demographic with little or no actual mind-to-mind capability (even the kind that came from close personal contact was mostly beyond them). She stopped, which actually made her uncomfortable as the sweat that had accumulated on her skin now chilled her in the morning air. "Hello?", she called out. "Anyone there?"

There was a rustle from the nearby bushes that drew Sarisa's attention. She could barely make out movement in the long shadows at the nearby trail, but she knew she was being watched. Not one to run and hide at the possibility of confrontation, she darted toward the source of the disturbance. A cloaked, hooded figure was barely visible in the thin light of dawn, sprinting away from her at a fairly good speed. Sarisa reached out with her mind and gripped the runner's ankle, pulling it back and causing the unknown figure to stumble over and land almost face first into the trail. Whomever it was had good reflexes, rolling with the impact and getting back to their feet, but the time it took for this to happen let Sarisa close the distance enough to make a flying tackle. Her quarry was on the light side, basically her size and build, and the impact was a painful experience followed up by the obvious results of landing hard onto a brick walkway. A voice called out in a language Sarisa couldn't understand after they made impact. Her curiosity piqued and adrenaline still gripping her, Sarisa pulled off the hood and found herself looking into a pair of blue eyes, a bright blue that was not at all human, with skin a similar color and a rich, dark-toned lock of teal hair obscuring the person's face. "Wait, I remember you," Sarisa said, panting a bit from effort. "You're that Silver Moon apprentice. Druna?"

"Druni," she answered irritably. The Dorei girl sliipped out from under Sarisa and began to stand, much as the human girl did. "Did you have to tackle me? I wasn't a threat, you know."

"All I knew was that some hooded fellow was inside the palace and staring at me. How was I to know it was you?", Sarisa answered defensively. "Besides, I've always been proactive in my own defense. Anyway, what were you doing at the clearing?"

"Watching you," Druni answered bluntly. "Watching you use the forbidden aspects of the Gift."

Sarisa raised an eyebrow at that. "'Forbidden aspect'?"

"In the culture of many of the Dorei nations - save the Sindai and the Huneri - it is not appropriate for someone with the Gift to learn to manipulate fire or electricity," Druni answered. "They're considered corruptive powers that can undermine the soul and lead people into destruction."

"That's a load of crap," Sarisa growled. "Fire's a perfectly natural application of ESP. There are whole martial arts schools devoted to the abilities of pyrokinetic ESPers to help channel our abilities."

"I know of the Trill ones, and the Sindai and Huneri also have skills like that. But we of the Silver Moon are forbidden it."

Sarisa crossed her arms. "That still doesn't explain why you were watching me."

Druni drew in a breath. "Can you keep a secret? I musn't tell this to anyone else."

"Sure."

"I... I have what humans refer to as pyrokinetic and electrokinetic abilities," Druni confessed. "I can, with effort, manipulate either fire or electircal charges. But I'm not very good at it. It's forbidden in the Order; even using it is grounds for punishment, and if I actively try to refine my abilities with it I could be ejected from the Order."

Sarisa snarled. "That's ridiclous nonsense. Why don't you just leave then?"

"I've thought about it," Druni admitted. "But I've got nothing else. My parents didn't want a child at all at the time I was born; they certainly weren't happy when I first developed my Gift and played with fire. They sent me into the Order to make a life for myself and to learn 'proper' use of my Gift. Something that wouldn't corrupt me, in their mind. If I leave the Order now, I have nowhere to go."

"Superstitious stupidity," was Sarisa's dismissive response. "I mean, those things are dangerous. One of the first things I learned in my instruction is that the key to wielding fire is to learn to control it, and it's much the same for electrokinesis. But there's nothing intristically wrong with either."

"My people don't see it that way, really," Druni answered, almost apologetically. "Anyway, I must be getting back now, Master Zara will want to put me through drills."

"Aren't you coming to Nouveau France with us?", Sarisa asked.

"No. The Chamberlain has made it quite clear we're not welcome on the trip." Druni frowned deeply. "He's a detestable man, really, and I can feel his contempt toward Zara oozing out of his soul. We're not even being allowed to stay in the palace while Princess Hilda is gone, but will be staying out in our Order's single Chapter on Fynn. It will be manifestly boring."

"I sympathize, I really do. Well, good luck then, maybe we'll see each other again sometime." Sarisa gave a friendly smile to Druni, who returned it wordlessly before slipping away.

A chill went up Sarisa's spine. The sweat on her bare skin was making the cold even more noticeable. It was time to head in-doors for a morning shower and then the planned breakfast....
”A Radical is a man with both feet planted firmly in the air.” – Franklin Delano Roosevelt

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Re: SDNW4 Story Thread 1

Post by Siege »

Outskirts of the capital city
Majella, Wild Space


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The large mansion had once been built for one of Wild Space's richest and most influential families, long before that family had been exposed as a bunch of piratical, slavering scum in the pay of Pendleton, the Pfhor, or the Collectors. The original owners had gotten their just deserts and had been shot or hung by the USSF, but the mansion had remained, first as an intelligence annex where the government of Majella (or rather its resident spooks) housed an interrogation center, then after the torturing had been moved to a less conspicuous facility the mansion had gradually fallen into disuse and decay. Nobody on the planet really wanted to be associated with Bleak House, as the mansion was called – until the Sovereignty megacorporation Maibatsu had bought it to house part of their 'biological projects division'.

For a while, then, the old mansion was inhabited by people who worked on subjects that were suitably ominous and fit right in with the violent history of the old pile of stone. But then the Majellans had decided they'd had enough of the corrupt central planetary government. A rebellion had broken out, and that rebellion had also targeted the megacorporations that had kept the government in power for so long. The local Maibatsu management got the order from up high to evacuate the premises and mothball the facility and, more to the point, close the sprawling bunker laboratory network constructed underneath the old mansion – but also to leave a surprise for the locals, in case they came to raid what Maibatsu still considered its rightful property.

But the locals hadn't come – they'd been far too busy burning down the offices of the local government first, then fighting the USMC, and the Bragulans, and then they'd been too busy dying to care. The mansion had gone undetected, and nobody had set foot in it since Maibatsu and its mercenaries had abandoned the planet to anarchy. It was nice and dark and quiet.

Until now.
Shroom Man 777 wrote:“Alright, Vasyly, take us in,” Helanska ordered as she took up Zysief’s periscope-like viewfinder. She observed that their artillery was shelling the innermost most parts of the city, which told her that they were almost out of things to bombard – which was a good thing.
The Bragulan artillery had bombarded the outskirts of the capital city real good. They had, in fact, flattened pretty much everything in sight with their heavy shells – some conventional, some nuclear – and it seemed a miracle the old mansion still stood. It wasn't. It had been built by its original owners to withstand conventional bombardment for several hours, allowing its residents to perhaps find some means of escape (or bribe the attackers to go away). It had been for that very reason that Maibatsu had purchased the building and constructed its lab underneath it.

Unfortunately, the Wild Space construction workers from the Feeleepeens had done a shoddy job. Or perhaps they just hadn't been expecting Bragulan atomics to be throw into the mix of ordnance their handiwork should have to withstand. At any rate, the fusillade of artillery that had landed all around the old building had cracked its facade. But more importantly, the shockwaves of the explosions had traveled into the ground, and cracked the reinforced concrete bunkers deep underneath them.

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The vast, deserted laboratory hadn't collapsed – Maibatsu had done far too good a job for anything but the most focused, earth-penetrating bombardment to have that effect – but it had caused razor cracks to form throughout the insides of the facility. Steel doors had been budged, and airtight locks were no longer quite so airtight. Malfunctioning mechanisms had caused a sealed doors to open just a crack inside a room where sealed vials of a particularly dangerous substance had been shaken off the racks inside of which they had once been precariously balanced, to crack and spill their lethal contents on the floor.

The substance got loose.

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Filters that should have killed the now-airborne nanostat cloud were malfunctioning. Doors that should have been hermetically sealed were not. And the people who should have sounded the alarm were long-gone. The laboratories had been built to contain the outbreak that was about to take place. Unfortunately the Maibatsu planners, working against the clock, with limited funds, and with barely literate Feeleepeen construction workers hadn't rated it to withstand both a Bragulan bombardment and an outbreak.

Unfortunately, for the Bragulans.

The cloud escaped the facility and dispersed across the battered landscape of the capital city. They were one of Maibatsu's deadliest creations, but the project that had spawned them had not yet progressed beyond the prototype stage. The range of the nanobots was limited, and there were only so many millions of nanostats in the broken vials. The engineers had also been very careful: the microscopically small machines could only feed on one source of energy, a source that was utterly absent in most civilized surroundings.

The source?

Intense gamma radiation.

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Well, crap.

The nanomachines feasted on the radiation in which the Bragulans had bathed the city, and began a frenzied process of assembling more and more of themselves. Within minutes, the direct surroundings of the old mansion were covered in a thick layer of fog that drifted along the ground. Except it wasn't really fog. In fact it was a cloud of billions of replicating nanostats, which was gradually dispersing itself outward into the city proper, the imperatives programmed into the small machines causing them to search out organic tissues.
Shroom Man 777 wrote:The city was smothered in acrid black smoke, a mixture of burning wreckage and poison gas. It was a caustic neurotoxin, although unlike traditional nerve gas, it wasn’t colorless, nor was it tasteless or odorless – it didn’t need to be in order to kill hapless civilians who did not have protective gear. It burned, it choked, it killed. Men, women, civilians and insurgent alike as well as the children they used as soldiers, all were strewn all over the streets writhing, their skin melting off as their backs spasmed so hard that they broke their spines and vomited their guts out – life, and organs, leaving their spasming bodies and sparing the Bragulans' their bullets. 
They found plenty. And so the mico-machines enthusiastically went to their gruesome, Frankensteinian work.

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All over the capital city, the dead began to rise.
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SDN World 2: The North Frequesuan Trust
SDN World 3: The Sultanate of Egypt
SDN World 4: The United Solarian Sovereignty
SDN World 5: San Dorado
There'll be a bodycount, we're gonna watch it rise
The folks at CNN, they won't believe their eyes
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Re: SDNW4 Story Thread 1

Post by MKSheppard »

Vulture Rock, Sublevel 90

"As you can see, our fleet is in much better shape than the Grand Dominion's fleet; though not by much," began the briefer.

"Out of our sixty heavy battlestars, only fifteen can be reckoned to be modern 600 point units. Same thing holds true with the light battlestars, though there, it's 200 point units. In escorts, only a hundred out of our three hundred and sixty gunstars are modern 70 point units."

On the briefing screen, a slide of the Collector Monolith, captured by Annapolis' sensors appeared.

"Mr General-President; we must rebuild our forces. The Collector threat is the biggest one since the Amplitur all those centuries ago. If the Collectors are willing to engage in battles with a multi-national coalition over a shitworld like Pendleton, what is stopping them from attacking us to gather better so called specimens, instead of settling for the worthless shits that inhabit Pendleton?"

Sheppard shifted in his seat and puffed on his cigar.

"Continue."

"We propose ordering no less than twenty new heavy battlestars, twenty light battlestars and a hundred fifty gunstars to redress the age of our fleet."

"Specs?" asked Sheppard.

"Sir, due to the need for mass mobilization, we are accepting a slight degradation in capability -- 580 for the BS(H)s, 180 for the BS(L)s, and 60 for the Gunstars."

"How are you going to man them?"

"Mr. General-President; the plan is that as the new ships come online, the older ships are retired from the fleet to free up manpower and funding for the new ships. Of course, a significant percentage can be retained in the Planetary Space Naval Militas."

Sheppard puffed on his cigar for several moments, and then snuffed it out in a nearby ashtray.

"That's all nice and good, Commander. It's just not worth a damn."

"Sir?"

"You've seen the footage and reports from BSG-100. You saw how that damn Monolith's parasite craft went through the Annapolis, Baltimore and Upper Marlboro's defenses like they weren't there, and the Baltimore lost seven hundred men; almost all of her crew in that so-called minor attack."

Sheppard paused to let this sink in.

"Gentlemen; the day of the so-called 'light' battlestar is over."

The Shepistani Admirals eyed each other nervously over that pronouncement. It could go either way; it could be a huge boon to the fleet or it could be mass retirement of a vital combat capability.

"Henceforth, the distinction between light and heavy battlestars is erased. Factor this into your fleet replenishment plans. I want forty battlestars now; all of at least five hunded points capability."

Sweat began to break out on the lead admiral's forehead.

"Sir....we don't have the construction capability for such a massive fleet increase; and the costs...."

"Which is why the Gunstar order in it's entiriety is going to the Bragulan Star Empire."

At this, everyone fell silent.

"Sir, you can't be serious!" exclaimed the lead admiral.

"I'm as serious as a heart attack; Admiral. Also, begin negotiations with the Bragulans for license production or split procurement of several hundred SPUD missiles to equip system defense militas."

"Secondly, who says we have to buy this all at once, or pay for it ourselves alone?"

"We can split the order up amongst several fiscal years -- order ten battlestars a year for the next four years -- and try to get the Grand Dominion to buy into our production program by adding ten or more battlestars towards the end of the production run as foreign military assistance."

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

Results:
-Shepistan abolishes the Light/Heavy Battlestar Designator.

-Shepistan issues a tender for 150 x sixty point gunstars from Bragulan shipyards to replenish the fleet's light units.

-Shepistan issues a tender for 40 x five hundred point battlestars to replenish the Fleet's battleline. Due to costs; this will be split up over four years' successive orders.

-Shepistan issues a tender for a very large quantity of SPUD missiles from the Bragulans for System Defense Militas.

--Shepistan begins making noises towards Grand Dominion about cost sharing for a final production run of ten or more battlestars to be turned over to the GD as Foreign Military Assistance.
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Re: SDNW4 Story Thread 1

Post by Shroom Man 777 »

Patriotic Imperial People's Ministry of Most Industrious Production

A gourmet meal was being prepared for the Shepistani diplomat who represented his government in ordering no less then 150 warships from the Bragulan Star Empire. While in most occasions humans walking about on any Bragulan world would face unpleasant treatment at best (wherein Bragulan law officers would throw cans at the humans' feet, tell them to "pick up that can, citizen", and wait for them to bend down to pick the cans before beating them with sticks), and much worse at worst (and yes, it does get worse), this was not most occasions. For some reason, mighty Bragule had decreed that Shepistani humans would be treated with cordiality so long as their actions were ideologically congruent, and there was no questioning that order, for a decree from mighty Bragule was a decree from Imperator Byzon himself - all-powerful, all-encompassing, and absolutely unquestionable.

Yet some dared to speculate what was the cause of this sudden shift in policy towards the hew-mans. Some thought that the Shepistani actions on the planet Pendleton, with televised footage of irradiated human cities featured in one of the The People's Truthful Bi-Daily Ideologically Purified Accurate Information Broadcast to the Proud Patriotic Bragulan Listeners of Planet Bragule by the People's Truthful News Group, had pleased the Imperator. Certainly the scenes of burning humans, and the dramatic re-enactments featuring pompous Anglians in outrageous wigs gnashing their teeth, had amused many of the patriotic Bragulan citizenry. Others contended that this was part of the Imperator's upcoming Fifty Year Plan, with glasnot and Bragstroika paving the way to an era of openness with galactic civilization. A few had other ideas, but unlike the aforementioned thoughts their ideological purities were not as integritous, so for their mental treason they were dragged into the de-education camps and beaten with sticks - and not the soft newspaper-wrapped metal ones used on human skulls, either.

But here, there were no stick-beatings. The Shepistani diplomat, Golda Lockleer, ate her porridge and exclaimed, "This porridge is just right!" before continuing with the next course of the meal her hosts had prepared for her.

Image

"Try the rabbi," her Bragulan host said as his wife served the stew. "Invasive species, as you hew-mans call it, are quite problematic. But these rabbis, as you hew-mans call it, are very delicious too."

"They're actually called rabbits," Golda said as she tried the rabbit stew. It was actually pretty good. "It's actually pretty good."

"I see. We did not choose this rabbi... rabbit stew for no reason," the Papa Bear said cryptically.

"Huh?" Golda stopped mid-slurp. Was this thing poisoned?

"We chose the rabbit because your nation's order of 150 of these 60-pointer 'Gunstars', in such time, requires us to build these ships at the pace of breeding rabbis." Papa Bear explained. "Rabbits, I mean."

"It's okay, the pace of the shipbuilding is up to you," Golda commented. The rabbit stew was even better than the porridge. She kept on eating even though she knew better and spent her time watching her weight. She realized that if she ate more, then she would've had to puke more... but the rabbit stew was just so good and she hadn't eaten a decent meal for so long. Subsisting on saltines for the whole week... Golda Lockleer hated herself now for losing control and losing discipline. She was so proud of being stronger than the fat people, but now she was no different from those holonet fatties. Fatty nerds. She felt so guilty. So weak.

The Bragulans were now looking at her oddly. Were they reading her thoughts? She wasn't bringing a Blitzschlag field since she wasn't expecting the Bragulans to have espers. Could a Bragulan even be a psyker? What if...

"My dear, you must be famished, you gobbled that rabbit stew up so fast!" Mama Bear commented. God, Golda felt so fat. And ugly. "Would you like to have some Bragule Egg also?"

"Um, I'm good! No, but thanks! I'm very full!" as one of Shepistan's chief operatives working with the Bragulans on their home turf, Golda had received portions of the Hushy Reports, and one of the non-redacted portions mentioned explicitly the Bragule Egg. It was like those Feelipeeni baluts, but worse. So she declined for her own life's sake. "I understand that your Space Fleet has ordered quite a few ships as well, so we can understand if your yards might not be able to accommodate the Shepistani order in full at the moment..."

"Nonsense!" Papa Bear laughed. "This is actually a great thing. We can accommodate the Shepistani order in full, at the moment, of course. Da!"

"You can?" Golda was surprised. She thought General Sheppard, as dear a leader as he was, was over-ambitious with Shepistan's first-ever large order from the Bragulans.

"Of course!" Papa Bear puffed his bare bear chest. "This is why I gathered the family. And aside from being a wonderful cook, my wife also works at the Ministry of Ideologically Correct Methods of Transportation. And my son, oh, we are so proud of him. Do you know why?"

"No, I don't."

"Why, it is because he is a Chief Technician of the People's Justice!" Papa Bear exclaimed. "In your puny human terms, ah excuse me, in your Shepistani terms, he is an executioner. Ah, here he is now, my boy-cub! Son! How was your day?"

"We executed two hundred prisoners today. We synchronized their collars to detonate to the tune of the Imperator's March. The children at the Byzon Youth loved it." Son Bear replied, referring to the detentionary collars that could become detonationary collars and decapitate their wearers by exploding.

"That's my boy!" Papa Bear laughed and clapped his son in the back with a mighty bear paw. Then he turned to face the Shepistani diplomat. "Now it makes sense, you see?"

Image

"I'm sorry, but I'm still not getting it." Golda said. She wanted to excuse herself so she could go to the bathroom and vomit out the food she had just eaten, but that would've been rude. Still, if she wanted to purge herself by puking to avoid becoming a fatty, she had to conclude this meeting within the hour and find a bathroom asap before her stomach fully digested the food. "Please explain?"

"Okay, you see. While the orbital yards and the main military yards are busy building the Space Fleet's ship, there is still a way to manufacture your Gunstars on schedule! What you know is that I am a director of the Patriotic Imperial People's Ministry of Most Industrious Production. But what you (probably) don't know is that I am a director of the Industrious Ministry's Sub-Ministry of Involuntarily Rehabilitative Hard Labor. For your puny... ah, non-Bragulan terminology, it means -"

"Forced labor?" Golda guessed. "Of POWs, refugees and prisoners?"

"Da! Now, with my dear wife working in Ideologically Correct Methods of Transportation, we can easily set up trains to send the, ah, manpower and personnel to the work-camps which will be built by Hard Labor under me. ICMT also covers shipbuilding. Whereas my boy here, being with the Technicians of the People's Justice, can be the one who manages the forced labor. The Technicians provide the manpower too. It is important to maintain a disciplined and well-motivated work force, is it not?"

"Yes, it is." Golda liked where this was going. Surely, with hard work, exercise, and enough malnutrition those involuntary laborers would quickly end up having the body figures she considered ideal. "But what about ensuring quality? I'm not so keen on the quality of products made from slave labor."

"It won't be the only method of production used, we can do it in both normal and abnormal ways. Besides, Technicians can do the quality control," Sonny Bear replied. "We test the products. If they are inadequate, we prematurely cut short the offending worker's employment. This is why they will be wearing the detonationary collars, see. But if they do their job right, they are rewarded."

"How?"

"Their employment continues until it ends later, when the Shepistani order has been met, where they will then be liquidated along with their contracts. But if the Shepistani order more ships, their employment can continue. At least, as many of them who are still alive at that point." Sonny Bear shrugged. "It is like many of the products of the Bragulan Star Empire, except now it's in the form of warships for export. The Technicians will have to be more rigorous and... exacting in our quality control, but that is manageable if the workers know what's good for them."

"I wonder," Golda's thoughts wandered to the images of emaciated workers starving as they toiled and got manhandled by heavy machinery. She crossed her legs and felt the piece of plastic she kept there. "If word of this reaches out, there are factions in the Lesbo Zone that disapprove of slavery. How do we convince them that this is different from Pendleton?"

"For one, this is not an economic system, but just a subset of the Bragulan criminal-justice penal system. Specifically it is a productive form of prolonged mass capital punishment. These are not slaves. These are criminals, ideological deviants, prisoners of war, perverts, degenerates, intellectuals and other form of scum being rehabilitated through grueling service to the Imperator and Empire. Unlike other forms of capital punishment, such as summary combustion, which are reserved for worse criminals, prolonged mass capital punishment is actually fairly lenient and merciful."

"How?"

"We give them the chance to rehabilitate themselves through backbreaking labor, instead of immediately turning them into soylents. In that way, they do something great before passing on." Sonny Bear crossed his arms and smiled. "Those guilty of more heinous crimes are simply executed without further ado, and do not get this opportunity."

"Do you have enough people to fill the ranks?" Golda asked, wondering if the Bragulan penal system had enough inmates for this.

"If we find ourselves lacking, then we can simply get spares. By ramping up charges and criminalizing new things, or something." Sonny waved it off with a big bear paw. He got a bowl of porridge and spooned some into his mouth. "Hey, this porridge is too cold."

"As for the Spud missiles, we can ship that to you first. In bulk. We have plenty lying in the stockpiles in mint condition, ready for transport. We'll send the Spuds while we're still starting out the Gunstar line." Papa Bear said lightly. "So, what do you think?"

"Well, I like the plan. It's good. Clean, simple, devious. I will go back to the Shepistani consulate and relay this to Montgomery immediately." Golda Lockleer said as suddenly got up and prepared to leave, all in a hurry. "Thank you for your time, the food, and your hospitality."

Afterwards, she quickly went out and walked away in a brisk pace. Then she turned around a corner and bent down.

She reached under her skirt and pulled out a piece of plastic she had hidden between her legs. It was a plastic bag. Zip lock. Then she reached her hand into the back of her throat to stimulate her gag reflex.

The IBGV agent discreetly tailing her was profoundly disturbed as he observed her with his surveillance apparatuses. He saw her heave and purge, hurling half-digested stomach contents into the plastic bag.

"Phew," Golda Lockleer sighed in relief as she held up the bag and examined the mixture of porridge, rabbit stew and stomach acids inside it. A few minutes longer and the food she ate would've traveled into her intestines and then she wouldn't have been able to do what she just did. "Just in time."

She collected the bag, just like a Collector, and went off her way, walking towards the Shepistani consulate with a skip in her step. She held the vomitus-filled zip lock bag in one hand while waving her other hand carelessly in the air. The vomit swirled inside its container.

The IBGV agent continued watching for a while, waiting until Golda Lockleer entered the Shepistani consulate, before finally allowing himself to succumb to his own nausea.
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Re: SDNW4 Story Thread 1

Post by Force Lord »

The Central Times

UMERIANS MAKE DEAL WITH COMMUNISTS!

By Guro Jaxxon, Central Times writer

There has been a great deal of diplomatic activity between the Technocracy and the Commune these past few weeks. Recent negotiations between Zero and Umeria have resulted in a pact that some in the Centrality fear can be used for military purposes. While spokesmen for the Technocracy have assured the Central Government that they have no hostile designs towards the Centrality, some Party members are not sufficently convinced.

"I question the Technarchs's logic. The Commune's track record towards other nations does not inspire confidence and we would not want another nation get dragged in the endless shouting matches between Zero and Centrum," Secretary of State Falko Tredell was quoted as saying.

The Centrality had already warned the Technocracy that if the deal went through, there would be "diplomatic retaliation", as President Enduvos stated.

"If Umeria goes to the Reds, we shall treat them as Reds," he declared.

Umerian Embassy staff were not immediately available for comment.
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Re: SDNW4 Story Thread 1

Post by Steve »

Reynolds House, Leeds Island
New Anglia, Star Kingdom of New Anglia
8 February 3400



The day's activities of swimming and playing had, for the most part, done their job for Stephen and Rachel. The children were, with the exception of Rafael and to a lesser extent Thomas, tuckered out and heading to bed despite the relatively early hour, and the their older sons were mature enough to know that their parents wanted the night alone together. The guest bedrooms where the children slept were on an entirely different floor and partway across the house, with Rafael as the designated (and volunteer) caretaker for the evening if the younger ones had sudden concerns for a bogeyman in the closet or, as was more often for Adrian and occasionally Gabriela, a scary dream.

Rachel had showered while Stephen did paperwork, then he showered as well. When he came out he saw her standing at the window in their moonlit bedroom; the full moon was bright enough here that it gave fairly complete illumination of the room through the window. Outside was the gentle rustling of waves against the shore and the distant sounds of tropical birds, native species to New Anglia. She was holding a towel over her front, leaving her slightly-toned - and very attractive - back bare. Smiling as he finished tying a towel around his waist, he came up to her and pressed his hands to her hips and posterior. "You are beautiful," he whispered into her right ear before kissing her on the side of the neck. "And tonight it's just you and me."

She said nothing, simply smiling, though a gasp came from her as she felt his hands move up her sides while he nuzzled and kissed her neck playfully. She turned and let the towel fall, and from there the night proceeded as they'd expected it to. Reaffirmations of mutual love were made in hushed tones as they pressed together and made love in their bed, free for the moment from government business or the prying inquisitiveness of their children.

When fatigue from the day, in which their family time had been so rushed to make room for every moment, set in enough, they settled down, Rachel laying up against Stephen as usual with her head at his neck. "What are you going to do after all this?", Rachel asked quietly.

With sleep starting to nip at his brain, Stephen focused for a moment and brought the answer to the forefront of his thoughts. "After my time as PM?"

"Yes." She ran a hand over his chest. "You're not going to be one of those types who tries to get back into office after a bad Election, are you?"

Stephen chuckled at that. Once and a while that happened. A Prime Minister would serve three or four years, see his party lose an Election, and would insist on trying to remain leader of the party and to be in the running to form the Government upon the next change of winds in the Election. As for him.... "I'm not sure, love," he sighed. "Honestly... once you've been a PM I'm not sure you can go any higher. Odds are I'll still have my Parliament seat anyway, though, when I leave the position. But it would make things a lot simpler if I were just a mere MP again." It was something that might happen one day, or might not. He was fairly popular in Vancouver, all things told. There were those in the Liberals there who wanted him, after his time in Westminster, to join planetary government and run for election to the Senate of New Columbia, even the Presidency of the planet. And there was also the probability that upon retirement from politics he would be offered a peerage, as was custom in the Anglian system for retired PMs, and with it a seat in the Westminster House of Lords. "Though when I retire I imagine I'll get offered a peerage."

"Likely," she agreed. "But would you accept it?"

"I'm not sure. My grandparents might just disown me if I did," he mused. "Even if it's just a life one."

Rachel giggled at that. "Yes, your Grandpa Sam is a forceful little Republican, isn't he?" She snuggled more tightly against him. "You know I'm always here for you. And I want you to succeed, even if it means more time in the capital."

"Thank you. You know I'm trying to make time for the children. Especially Gabriela. I know how alone and isolated she feels sometimes, even with how much she tries to hide it. All this talk about 'joining the Navy' when she grows up..."

"It's just her trying to get you to love her more, I think." Rachel sighed. "And Sophie can be such a handful. She was so precocious and sweet as a little girl, but now she's getting headstrong and willful. She's so intelligent but doesn't seem to think things through sometime."

"She's taking after her mother," Stephen pointed out with a slight grin, running a hand along Rachel's back. "Well, not so much the failure to think things through. Though you did marry me..." The self-deprecating remark earned him a playful slap on the jaw. He could feel sleep starting to slip in, but for all the fatigue he felt he didn't want the night to end, not with how much he had enjoyed it. "Between Sophie and Adrian I know you have little time for the others. Sometimes I wish I hadn't become the leader of the Party, I would have more time for you then." He let out a guilty sigh. "This job wasn't meant for a man with young children. I shouldn't have given in to the ambition..."

"You might never have gotten another shot, though." Rachel kissed him on the cheek. "And I love it that you've come so far. I knew what we were getting into when you started accepting Parliament posts and getting involved in deciding policy planks for the Liberals. I wanted to see you go as far as you could. Now you're the Prime Minister of the whole Kingdom and Empire. You've gone to the very top."

"I know. And I'm not even 100 yet." Not that it was odd for someone who hadn't reached triple digits to achieve such heights. Human society was still re-gearing itself to accommodate the life spans permitted by age-delay and the human psyche seemed to still be geared for much shorter lifespans. Though some services like the military saw people taking longer to gain higher authority and responsibility, it wasn't uncommon, really, for a man to still rise to prominence in an institution within a quarter century of joining it, even if he was a third or a quarter of the age of some of his peers. "Maybe when the kids are grown up and I'm out of politics, we can look for something else to do together. You've talked about going back to University and getting a doctorate."

"And what would you do while I'm hard at work with that?', Rachel asked plainly.

"I don't know," he admitted. "Maybe... write? Lots of writing by retired politicians, you know... But I'll be damned if I accept an Ambassadorship."

"Maybe if you're lucky you'll be named Governor-General of New Columbia, then we can just spend all our time back home."

"The uniforms are nice, at least. And being a Governor-General is likely to be more acceptable back home than being given a peerage and ending up in the House of Lords, either back home or in Westminster."

He was answered with a "Hmm...". Rachel snuggled against him again and settled her head under his chin. He could feel her breathing against him and knew she was ready to just go to sleep. He wrapped his right arm around her shoulders and closed his eyes to sleep.



As they slept, there was movement outside. A small figure clad in pajamas, not yet four feet in height, moved through the bushes and toward the sea. The sea lapped at the quiet person, the moonlight reflecting softly off of the green pajama suit as it did the ocean. Suddenly it was overpowered, slightly, by an orange light. Within the figure's hands a burst of flame appeared, held in mid-air, illuminating a small bit of beach and surf.

"Gabriela?! What are you doing?!"

The young girl extinguished the flame. Or rather she would have, save that it had acquired just enough fuel in the air to burn on it's own briefly before it dropped into the ocean and was extinguished by the surf. She turned, startled, to look at her older brother Thomas. Among the siblings they resembled each other the most, both possessing their mother's blue eyes and darker-colored hair and a deeper shade of tanned skin. "Uh... I was just making fire with sticks!", she lied.

Thomas was obviously not fooled. "What sticks?"

"Uh, the fire burned them up before you got here?"

"Then where's the ash?" Thomas walked up to her. "You... you did that yourself."

Gabriela drew in a breath. Suddenly she fell to her knees and gripped her older brother's legs. "Please don't tell Mom and Dad!", she begged.

Thomas had to struggle to wiggle out of his sister's grip. It caused him to trip backward and fall on his rump in the sand. "How did you do that, Gabbie?"

"I... back around Christmastime, one of my schoolmates was showing me how to make fire with your hands," she explained. "She'd just learned herself, some teacher her parents had hired for her. She told me what she did, so I did it too... and I had fire!"

"Don't you know what this means?!" Thomas gripped his sister by her shoulders. "You're an ESPer, Gabbie! You've got to tell Mom and Dad!"

"No! They'll send me away to one of the schools then!", Gabriela wailed.

"What? No way, Gabbie, they'd never send you away from the family," Thomas insisted. "They'll understand, you'll see."

"They wouldn't send you away, or Sophie, or Adrian. But they don't care about me as much." Gabriela sniffled. "Raffie's the only one who really wants me around."

"You're crazy, Gabbie. Mom and Dad love you. Why do you think they fight sometimes? They're always accusing each other of not giving you enough attention, enough love." Thomas shifted to stand beside her, putting a friendly arm on his little sister's shoulder. "Trust me about this, Gabbie. I know they've not got a lot of time for us all as it is, and with Sophie getting so big in the head and Adrian off breaking things they get a lot of attention, but they still love you. And we love you too, little sister." He could see she was unconvinced and wondered if she could be peering into his mind. And there were times he wondered about who had the most priority on his parent's time too, though he was old enough to know that Adrian needed constant attention to keep him from getting into trouble and, well, Sophie was starting to get a headstrong streak in her and had to be kept from doing whatever she wanted sometimes. Also, well, he was getting into the age where kids didn't want their parent's attention so much, since he was starting to get interested in girls and having some independence (though not always responsibility, admittedly). So he didn't mind it as much. But it was clear Gabbie did.

There was silence for a time, Thomas not sure of what to say next and Gabriela terrified with the thought of being shipped off to a boarding school for ESPers. Before either could speak, they could see a figure trudging along toward them over the sands. Gabriela got to her feet first and ran up toward her oldest brother while Thomas smirked and continued to sit in the sands. "Don't you two know what time it is?!", Rafael hissed loudly (that the others could hear him was rather impressive given the crashing of waves). "It's past midnight! Mum will have a fit!"

Thomas very nearly pointed out that their parents were probably asleep and why they'd be, but held his tongue given Gabriela was only 8. Instead he stood and remarked, "Maybe you shouldn't tell her then?"

"I won't have to if you get your butts to bed, now," he said. He looked down to Gabriela and took her hand. "Come on, sis, good cadets need to go to sleep when told to, you know?" Seeing her smile and nod, Rafael turned toward the house and led her back, Thomas following behind them and stifling a yawn.
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Re: SDNW4 Story Thread 1

Post by Simon_Jester »

Arcology Gamma-Two, New Athens, Sector X-6
22 Hours From the Shepistani Border via the Great Northern Run.
February 16, 3400


Image

Megan Stevenson sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. The instructions from MiniWell were clear; she had to make a day available for an in-depth review of evacuation plans next week. “Draft lesson plans accordingly,” they said. Easy for them to say. They weren’t the ones who would have talk about interstellar war and thermonuclear bombardment to seven year old children...

She knew the facts, of course. A Umerian schoolteacher didn’t make it through training if she didn’t have a flexible mind capable of assimilating facts on a wide variety of subjects. The military wasn’t her favorite, but there were things you learned just from living and keeping your eyes open.

Everyone on New Athens who payed attention knew that in any really serious war with Shepistan, a heavy battle fleet was going to come roaring along the Northern Run. New Athens system would be one of the top targets on their list- the sector capital, the naval base... and, Shepistanis being Shepistanis, in the event that whatever SpaceSec had on station couldn’t handle the attack, the planet was going to be bombarded. And Gamma Arcology Complex, known to the inhabitants as Thessaly, was one of the biggest cities on the planet. Expecting the Shepistani Republic’s navy not to shoot at it would be like expecting water not to flow downhill.

That wasn’t a new problem. For hundreds of years, the Ministry of Production’s engineers had been digging layer upon layer of defensive shelters under Thessaly: decade after decade, kilometer after kilometer, deeper and deeper until the refrigeration systems could no longer keep the temperature down to something people could live in. Each layer of shelters was protected by a roof of armor and shielding strong enough to handle capital ship fire; each layer was subdivided into separate chambers separated by internal cofferdams and blast channels.

The top layers were packed mostly with raw materials. Below that, stockpiles of machinery. Below that in turn, covered by the layers above like so much ablative armor, the actual bombproof vaults for the Thessalian population. Down there they would ride out the attack along with a critical core of survival rations, life support, and equipment. In theory the shelters could hold out for years while clearing efforts on the surface cleaned radiation-free zones, to evacuate the people from the vaults below if nothing else. Likewise they held the terraforming supplies needed to start cleaning up the planet after atomic bombardment, to rebuild key industrial infrastructure on a time scale of decades rather than centuries.

On any Umerian world, the deep shelters were the key to the planet’s future in the event of bombardment or disaster.

The vaults could be cracked, of course. You could break anything if you hammered on it long enough. But it would take sustained, deliberate fire: heavy bombardment to crack the theater shield over Thessaly alone, then still more to knock down the arcos themselves. And that would only be the beginning- an enemy fleet would have to park over the ruins of the complex for hours and hammer away with high-energy penetrators, blowing out each shelter compartment in turn.

It wasn’t impossible for the Sheppos to do something like that... but at a bare minimum the shelters would keep the civilian population alive unless the Shepistani leadership had made a systematic decision to exterminate it. Because there wouldn’t be any military point to it; nothing in the deep vaults was going to pose any threat to an orbiting fleet, or even to opposing a landing force. The defenses were all hundreds of kilometers away except for a handful of point defense batteries; even those weren’t close in to the urban center.

And yet for all that, even given the most civilian targets that could readily be imagined, it was far from inconceivable that the Shepistanis would burn out the Thessaly shelters, just on their idea of general principles. Stevenson wasn’t normally a grim woman, but you couldn’t help but feel a certain cold fury at the prospect of that- though, of course, odds were she’d be dead in that case. Then it would all be up to the Navy, and to the Strategic Retaliation Plan that she had only heard rumors of...

God, please...

She turned back to the work at hand and started composing again.

Michael Faraday Elementary School, Level 87, Arcology Gamma-Two
February 17, 3400


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Re: SDNW4 Story Thread 1

Post by Fingolfin_Noldor »

Orthodox Times

Ecumenical Patriarch declares that Bragulans are the only xenos worthy of being kept as pets

The Ecumenical Patriarch has declared that the Bragulans are the only xenos worthy of being kept as pets. "Most human like quantities, their only sin is being born as a xeno bear. One wonders if they were somehow evolved from our terran bears. They are like my favourite pets I would bring when I go purging for heretics, and having them rip off their heads while I am at it." As for Karlacks, the Ecumenical Patriarch describes them as "the bastard children I wished I never had, but I think they are useful for purging xenophile heretics."

It is said that Rus Komnenos, son of the God Emperor, is known for keeping Fenrisian wolves and bears as pets and occasionally rides on them in full armor...
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Re: SDNW4 Story Thread 1

Post by Siege »

Green Galaxy 'shocked and outraged' by Byzantine animal mistreatment

"Utterly shocked and completely outraged", is how Green Galaxy spokesperson Eva Blue described her reaction to news that Rus Komnenos, son of the Byzantine emperor, "occasinally rides [his pets wolves and bears] in full armor". She calls the son of Heraclius and heir apparent to the throne of the Imperium "callous" for his treatment of animals.

Says Blue: "We don't generally expect much in the way of sensitivity from the Byzantines, known eco-barbarians that they are. Bears and wolves are not domestic pets, and should not be kept as such -- that much should be obvious to even the densest of ecological profanators. But to ride them, that's just completely insane even by the lofty standards of the Imperial throne." Eco-awareness group Green Galaxy then called upon Rus Komnenos to donate his pets to a wildlife sanctuary.

Speaker of the Senate Lyra Saxon, when asked to react on Green Galaxy commentary, had the following to say: "Whilst I think Ms. Blue is using unnecessarily harsh language to get her point across, no doubt in search for publicity, I do think she has a point. Riding wolves in full armor? Perhaps Mr. Komnenos needs a new hobby." The Presidential Palace did not return calls for a comment.

Rus Komnenos is known to have just returned from the 'cleansing' of the planet Janus in Wild Space which ended with the total destruction of the planetary biosphere, an act that already earned the Imperium the condemnation of Green Galaxy. The eco-group has long been opposed to feats of planet-wide devastation carried out throughout the galaxy, and is heavily involved in ecological reconstruction on several former bombardment sites.
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Re: SDNW4 Story Thread 1

Post by Shroom Man 777 »

The People's Truthful Bi-Daily Ideologically Purified Accurate Information Broadcast to the Proud Patriotic Bragulan Listeners of Planet Bragule begins thusly:

HUMANS NOW INCLUDED IN THE BRAGULE EXHIBIT OF ANIMAL LIFE COLLECTED FROM THROUGHOUT THE GALAXY


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The exhibit includes a new aquarium, to display humans in their natural habitat.

BRAGULE - The Imperator's Friendly Bureau of Kindness Towards Children and Small Animals has announced the addition of a human exhibit in the Imperator's Natural Reservation of the People's Patriotic Natural Ecosystem in Bragule. The Imperator's Natural Reservation of the People's Patriotic Natural Ecosystem in Bragule is one of the few places on Bragule where things such as unmutated flora and fauna exist in their natural state. The heavily defended bunker that is situated kilometers under a mountain range boasts one of the galaxy's most diverse ecological collections, as it houses the remains of Bragule's original biosphere that so patriotically sacrificed itself for the most industrious advancement of Bragulanity.

This memorial to the noble martyrdom of countless plant and animal species is widely regarded by Bragulans as a fascinating 'living museum' of the homeworld's past. Parents often take their children to have picnics at the Reservation to see the native creatures that have not yet been transmogrified into heinous forms that require cleansing fire to kill (in accordance with eco-ideologically correct policies). Likewise, as an area of pristine subterranean bunkerized wilderness, the Reserve is also used for Byzon Youth camping field trips, wilderness survival courses, guerrilla training and life-fire exercises. Hikers, Braglife photographers, relaxing working-class workers and many other ordinary patriotic citizens also enjoy spending their leisure time at the Reserves.

The addition of humans marks an exciting development for the Natural Reserve as it seeks to expand and also include the biospheres of other planets into its exhibits. Recent events at the planet Pendleton have been a boon for the curators and park rangers of the Natural Reserve, who've long sought new species to exhibit, as now they've finally found some. The new humans displayed are hoped to be both entertaining and educational for Bragulans of all ages.

WOULD YOU LIKE TO LEARN MORE?
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Re: SDNW4 Story Thread 1

Post by MKSheppard »

The Most Holy Father of the Redeemer Imperial Orthodox Church
Montgomery, Shepistan


The fairly large church was the most visible presence of the Imperium of Man's religious schismaticsm in the LOINSTAR Sector.

Over in the Grand Dominion, such Schismaticsm had been actively discouraged and oppressed by the Church; but in Shepistan; matters were different; and as such; Shepistan became home to the largest presence of Imperium Orthodox Culture in the LOINSTAR Sector.

Inside; the daily mass was being held.

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Et ómnium circumstántium, quorum tibi fides cógnita est, et nota devótio: pro quibus tibi offérimus, vel qui tibi ófferunt hoc sacrifícium laudis, pro se, suísque ómnibus, pro redemptióne animárum suárum, pro spe salútis et incolumitátis suæ; tibíque reddunt vota sua ætérno Deo, vivo et vero.

Suddenly, without warning the huge wooden doors at the end of the church flew open in a cloud of splinters.

The Bragulans had arrived.

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Switching from his latin to more colloquial Shepistani English; the Patriarch challenged the intruders.

"What? What is the meaning of this intrusion onto God's most holy mass?"

The leader of the Bragulans simply walked up to the altar and then promptly took a steaming shit on the marble surface, chortling as he did so.

"Does a Bragulian shit in Church?"

As the murmuring in the Church built to a low drone; the Patriarch's face became increasingly redder.

"How dare you...you foul Xenos come in and defile this most holy sanctity of God! May God Damn you for eternity!"

At this, the Bragulan leader simply backhanded the Patriarch. This was no mere 'love tap', this was one with the full fury and might of the Bragulan Star Empire behind it.

As the corpse of the Patriarch slowly fell from the bleachers where it had been tossed, the Bragulan leader turned and addressed the terrified church.

"Your foul shits of a leader declared that we are the only xenos worthy of being pets. PETS. We'll show you who is the pet!" he roared.

Twenty Minutes later

The Montgomery Police slowly approached the church with guns drawn; murmuring amongst themselves as they entered the church. Word had arrived of a 'disturbance', so the Montgomery Police's Special Hazardrous Reconnaisance Obscure Operations Mission Force, or as people called it; SHROOM FORCE -- had been sent.

Inside; they found something out of their worst nightmares. All of the precious relics and stained glass windows had been shattered, and large piles of steaming poo were smeared all over holy books.

In one corner, a group of people huddled, naked and with chains around their necks; being led around by a Bragulan. In the other corner; Bragulans took turns riding particularly fat naked people.

Raising their guns; SHROOM FORCE made their presence known.

"Allright! You dirtbags; on the fucking floor before we waste you all!"

At this, the Bragulans turned, and laughed.

They fucking laughed.

SHROOM FORCE was only one more laugh away from making the laughter disappear forever in an orgy of violence which would of course be covered up when a Bragulan approached them with an ID card in it's paw.

"Is okay, humans. We are diplomatic personnel, and we are merely lodging a...protest over the Imperium's recent proclaimation of us being ideal pets. Bragulans are no ones pets. We MAKE puny humans like this fat one here our pets."

At this, a murmur ran through SHROOM FORCE's hypersecure tactical encrypted sideband radios.

"Goddamnit. Can't shoot them all. Fucking diplomatic immunity."

Results: Bragulan diplomats on Shepistan trash the largest Imperial Orthodox Church in the LOINSTAR regions as a protest against the recent religious proclaimation calling them the ideal pets.
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Re: SDNW4 Story Thread 1

Post by PeZook »

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Ruins of Janus Colony

The surface of Janus was a silent graveyard. Well, not exactly: there was plenty of noise, but it was the terrifying kind: tremendous geological masses torn away from each other, lava flows roaring down gigantic artificial canyons and mountain chains collapsing due to unstable tectonic plates.

Death of a planet was a long process. It would take centuries before the violence ceased and the world of Janus, formerly lush and teeming with life, would become a true graveyard, covered with a veil of hair-rising silence.

And yet, even as Imperial construction crews worked on Janus' moon, civilian ships arrived in system. They were accosted by the Imperial fleet almost immediately, of course. Inspections and checks soon revealed the vessels carried geological survey equipment and scientific teams funded by the Sirta Foundation, a non-profit concerning itself with preservation of biodiversity throughout the galaxy.

"As you can see, Arbitrator", the expedition's chief - doctor Andrew Keller, a somewhat famous Solarian xenobiologist - explained to the Adeptus Arbites commander running the inspection, "All our documents are in order. We only want to ascertain the damage done to Janus and try to save any unique species that might've survived down there."

Watching the arbitrator cautiously review all the documents again, dr. Keller wondered if his people would be let through. After all their employers didn't like failure.
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JULY 20TH 1969 - The day the entire world was looking up

It suddenly struck me that that tiny pea, pretty and blue, was the Earth. I put up my thumb and shut one eye, and my thumb blotted out the planet Earth. I didn't feel like a giant. I felt very, very small.
- NEIL ARMSTRONG, MISSION COMMANDER, APOLLO 11

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Re: SDNW4 Story Thread 1

Post by Agent Sorchus »

Edge of Iduran Space

Brenton stared into the bottom of his mug. While he had the itch for orgasmo it was hard to find this far from Solaris and he wasn't in the mood to entertain those feelings anyway. He felt a lot like when he had been rejected from the Marine Corps. All that was missing was the unbelievable nausea that came from being allergic to almost all the food on camp.

Alexander was next to him in the booth, his bender surprise was barely touched. His silent gaze fell upon the deepest shadow in the dark bar. He'd kept form talking about the fight, and he hadn't even tried to exercise his humor.

It was a good thing that Alex was is such a stupor, otherwise he might have caught onto Thaddeus' dagger like glare. Even though they had all come armed Thaddeus was still overarmed. His glare wasn't hjust reserved for Alex, and it made Brenton glade he'd chosen such a civilized bar to meet at.

Effie was as high as she could get in a civilized place. She'd hit the legal limit with just the first serving of old style brownies. Luckily for her she had co-opted a courtesy Eoghan high oxygen breather. Brenton didn't begrudge her the right to dip her feet in the sky, but it wasn't going to be convenient. They had to get past the difficulties and confront this head on.

Of course Regina wasn't here yet. Regina didn't like meeting in places like this. He didn't understand wh, something about her religious beliefs. Still she never talked about it and she would almost always eventually arrive.

Sighing Brenton caught Thaddeus' glare. The Marines used to get in staring contests with Bragulan PoWs so thay could be prepared to meet even the Karlacks if they must. Thaddeus didn't stand a chance. Effie on the other hand... well the marines had also taught him to recognize lost causes. For instance, it was a lost cause for him to stay in the Corp when he was allergic to everything.

Alexander was easier, just a punch to the shoulder was needed. "Okay guys we need to talk. So she's back and helping our enemies, the kaptin even said she was working for Alfher." Why was it easier to say the name of their enemy than to speak of her?

"Whats to talk about? We should have had her. Vixen was never that powerful and we shouldn't have let them both escape." Thaddeus didn't like admitting he was defeated, especially from cheap shots.

"That wasn't the Vixen I remember. Last I saw it had been ripped in two." A painful memory for sure, but it was still better than trying to say her name.

"Are we totally sure that it was her?"

"Thadd, shut up. You were as there as I was and that is exactly the fight she..."

"It was her." Alex threw back his drink and finished it in one gulp.

"Brent's got a good point, but how are you so sure?"

Alexander lifted a small case out of his pocket. It was lead-lined, with a radiation warning across it. "She gave me this back." He opened it. The ring was tarnished from the nuclear explosion it had survived, but it was still recognizable as Alex's family seal. Two olive fingers reached out from behind him and closed it.

Regina had sneaked up on them. "It definitely was Sherise, whats to question? Here Effie I brought pasta. Scoot over Alex. Thaddeus, Miku had to cancel shes still working out the battle damage." Miku was part of their support crew, and had a slight crush on Thaddeus. They had grown up together working to get the power rangers together and it was only natural that she was interested in him.

"Alright I guess I'll talk to her when I get back."

"But isn't there anything we can do about her?" Still couldn't say her name, this must be how Alexander was feeling before.

Regina shook her head. "Don't think so. We just don't know that much about what happened. All we can do for now is hunt down Alfher. He is key to this, and we should do that anyway. Alpha 10 has a trail anyway, one of the suspect bank accounts has started moving funds to a colonization corporation based in the Union State of Four stars. There was a influx of cash just before this activity but it couldn't be traced."

"At least we have a lead now. Thanks Regina. What about the Bigga Fish?"

"Not much we can do now. The Iduran Navy has them cornered, but how many times have we seen that ship blow up only for another to hunt the lanes in no time at all?"

"Six." Spoke Alex, "I think I had a little too much to drink, g'night all."
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