«12. . .2,9682,9692,9702,9712,9722,9732,974. . .3,0113,012»
The wyrms above encircled them in an aerial ouroboros, shaping the howling wind to their will, it rained on Galti and Akron like arrow flurries fired from atop a high cliff. Locked in the centre of the predators' snare, Galti planted his back against Karzun's and stood, shield raised and ready to face the dragons. Before long, the winged snakes lunged their fangs at the two. Two feasted for Akron, the other for Galti, who belayed the strike with a bash of his shield and the lung of his sword. He caught the beast in its jaw, but it reared away and hissed frosted flame. Galti raised his shield, again.
Karzûn waits until the timing is right, then makes a powerful leap into the air, latching himself onto one of the dragons’ heads. With his extra arms, he takes out his blades and starts stabbing the beast’s head with extreme aggression, still roaring and shouting insults in his Kauv’ok dialect.
Elana looked around the market. While her sunglasses, needed to protect her eye from the bright blue sun of New Sakoor, stunted her vision she could still see the bright colors of the market. Exotic fruits, plants of all colors, pots, necklaces, lamps, even swords and knives, were being sold in every corner. She saw something that caught her eye, a necklace of the symbol of the 9. "What is this?" she asked.
Galti remained calm and composed in his defence. His shield absorbed the beast's magic frost, successfully. It took off again into the sky, and arched about, building for a carpet stream. Meanwhile, the dragon Karzun mantled reared about with pain and defiance to its fate, giving Karzun no opportunity to leap off. Galti, his back now exposed, felt wind sting behind him. He spun around, leftward riding the augmented momentum of his raised shield, and bashed it upwards, only for his shield to find the third dragon's bottom jaw, thrashing its head upward and right in recoil, giving Karzun, if he could balance himself, the opportunity to leap onto his next victim.
"Ah, that is a necklace of the Nine, the Pantheon of Sakooran Deities." Terros responds, quite fascinated. "Most of the planets in Nova Archia are named after them, as a matter of fact."
The cyborg drives his swords deeper into the dragon’s head one last time, then as he grips the embedded blades tightly, he stands up and propels himself towards the other dragon using the momentum of his body pushing off from the head of the third dragon, pulling out his swords to reveal a gaping wound.
Galti turned his eye to the sky and switched blade and shield for a rifle. The remaining dragon seared down though beyond reach and sprayed a blitz of frost below on its own brother, catching Karzun mid leap and freezing up his joints. The freezing Kauv'ok fell from his balance at a great height and crashed below the ice once more, leaving Galti alone with two angry dragons.
Damn not this again...
Karzûn growls in frustration as he falls victim to the frost once more, unable to move his frozen joints. But as he plummets into the icy depths, he refuses to accept a fate that he’s narrowly escaped too many times already. Karzûn struggles to move and shatter the ice that immobilizes his joints, but out of desperation he will do anything he can in order to break free.
~Tuak, Yamo Family Estate~
Yamo poured the sugar into his cup of tea, stopping after pouring just enough. He looked up for half a second as clearly exhausted uniformed man cam rushing towards him.
"Ah, Edward, a pleasure to see you again. Please, sit you look absolutely exhausted." Yamo motioned to the chair directly next to his small table where his tea sat. Pouring Edward some as well and placing the sugar besides it. Edward looked at the tea as the self-proclaimed Speaker of the Senate in bemusement.
"Sir there isn't time for this. Haven't you heard the news? High Lord Admiral Leyton has suddenly amassed a group of Senators together and has forced a vote of no confidence through the Senate. They say your lack of response to the 'Union' and your inability to secure the core has proven you lack the capability to lead us through this crisis." Edward looked at the man as he, much to his surprise smiled and sipped from his tea. Chuckling Yamo placed the tea cup down and jovially arose.
"I'm very much aware of Leyton lack of loyalty lately Edwards. This no-confidence vote is meaningless, but one I can't ignore. Which is why I've sent my personal guard unit to end this, as we speak my guards are stripping Leyton of command and placing a much more capable commander in charge." Yamo approached Edwards, and grasped his shoulders.
"You. I should've done this years ago Edwards, you've been nothing but a loyal and capable commander. Leyton is as much to blame for our current situation as any, I after all am no Admiral." He flashes a toothy smile as Edwards holotool and his own begin to beep rapidly.
"It's the emergency communique sir." Edward stammers, opening his holotool to see a it's High Lord Admiral Leyton with a row of Marines behind him as well as six battered and bruised soldiers being held at gunpoint behind him; Yamos Guard Unit. Yamo looks at his holotool in disbelief, especially when he realizes this isn't just for him, but it's a live broadcast going out across the Systems Federation. Yamo lowers his arm, not listening to whatever Leyton has to say, knowing full well he truly hasn't grasped the nature of this situation.
"People of the Federation, for five long years we've toiled to try and salvage what was left of our great United Republic. Five years we've allowed our self-titled savior play the role of a petty Emperor as he waged failed campaign after failed campaign to push into the core. Five years and we've nothing to show for it but a near bankrupt 'government', collapsing moral, and the same territory which we've just barely held onto for five years. Now we've pretenders marching towards us from the south, a cyborg who we should've killed years ago massacring our fellow citizens, and terrorists playing the role of nation-builders. The Council of Allied Worlds has made us loyal citizens of the United Republic an offer, join forces and put an end to all those who would see our dream of a perfect union dead, or perish under the rule of an incompetent loud mouth who has no idea what it means to rule. I ask you to join me now, do not let the dream of a United Republic die with Yamo."
As Yamo looked in the distance a dark silhouette enveloped the surrounding landscape, he looked upwards slightly as he saw in the clouds a Star Conqueror hovering above. As suddenly as it had arrived a hand was yanking Yamo inside, attempting to pull him to safety.
"Sir we need to get you out of here." Edwards pressed a panel on the wall when they'd entered, a holographic display lighting up.
"Identifying Micheal Edwards, hello again captain, would you like me to summon the mistress?" A feminine VI voice asked politely.
"Not today, initiate Failsafe Violet. Copy all files we have on the database to my holotool and prepare the shuttle for departure to the Steadfast." Edwards looked as Yamo steadied himself on a couch in the living room.
"Sir..." He approached him, placing his hand on the old mans shoulder.
"Y'shool has played his hand against me too Edwards..." Yamo looked at the man, wide-eyed. Y'shool? Edwards thought, not entirely sure how to respond.
"Sir we must leave, come." Pulling him once more they entered the estates basement and rushed towards the small hangar bay where a small sports shuttle sat. Quickly activating the craft the doors opened and Edwards rushed inside Yamo looked at the craft, taking in a deep breath he entered.
Moments later is was shooting out of the hangar. As it left the estate imploded, and as it did the shuttle activated its cloak. As the shuttle quickly sped away Yamo looked on at his destroyed family estate, one that had been in his familys possession for centuries and where he had grown up.
"The Steadfast is near by sir. The crew is still loyal to you, we can try and salvage this and get into contact with some officers I know. Maybe we can fight this thing out."
"No." Yamo stated silently, Edwards shot a glance back at him.
"No? What else are we to do sir? With the resources of the Federation, the Alliance can dominate the north and likely control the core unopposed. We cannot allow this to go unpunished!" Edwards shouted in bemusement.
"And we won't... get us to the Steadfast Edwards. When we arrive I will explain."
_____________________
"The Union!?" First Officer Bowman shouted, causing several crewmen in the command bay to jump in surprise.
"You want us to approach those blasted traitors and ask for asylum when we've just lost our nation again!?" His frustration and anger was understandable, but truth be told the odds of successfully contesting not only the Federations forces but undoubtedly the Alliances' was unlikely. And Bowman knew this.
"We've no other choice." Edwards explained.
"I've already tried to convince other captains and Admirals to join us, they all flatly rejected. We're on our own here. Unless you think one Defensoris Frigate can hope to match two of the largest Armadas in the United Republic." Edwards sighed and leaned against the holotable separating them.
"No I- I think this is for the best. I hate it just as much as you Bowman but... but it's better than dying out here. The Union is our best chance and for the first time in five years I've never seen him more committed." He was referring to Yamo, he gave a half glance backwards as Yamo appeared to be reading his holotool intently in the background.
"The Union has been granting amnesty to warlords left and right, Bowman, even recommissioning some of them. Who knows what may happen, but, I think the old man has something up his sleeve." Edwards finished, and for the moment at least it looked as if Bowmans rage had subsided.
"I'll set a course immediately." He shot a look at Yamo.
"His plan better work. I am not rotting in some Union prison cell."
Clanaka looked back over his shoulder, his eyes falling upon his officer. He brought himself back to face Havyard. He wanted more than anything in the moment to see these xenos dead, or sent away at the very least. Negotiating with xenos, he thought to himself, wrinkling up his face in disgust at himself, how could I possibly stoop so low?
I could kill him right here, right now. He knew he was not to have such urges on this occasion, yet he made no effort to stop the idea from crossing his mind.
“Captain, if you wish to learn about Arcanstotska - its glory and purity - you may not like what you find. That is all I can say on that manner.”
While the interned leadership formed groups based on nationality, they were further separated based on how aware their nation was of the CAS’ activities. Those whose nation appeared unaware of the activities remained in the internment building in comfortable accommodation. They were allowed access to entertainment so as not to be bored. They were also able to communicate regularly with the outside world and their Aartrisian homes. This communication was, however, never in real time. It was subject to Conchordate oversight and potential censorship, but for this group the Conchordate simply monitored the communications for incriminating messages or messages undermining or suggesting others to undermine occupation governance. All these messages were recorded. Leaders of this group were only very rarely interviewed from this point on.
The second group, those whose nation were somewhat aware of the CAS’ activities were more actively monitored and their communication outside of the building more rare. The section of the building they were housed inside used recording devices to physically monitor these leaders.
The group whose nations were ‘in the know’ were housed in a special section of the building This section was filled with recording devices. These leaders had very limited access to entertainment and outside communication, unlike the other two groups. They were interviewed very frequently, often repeated interviews (asking the exact same questions each interview). This was intended to use constant low-level stress and testing to wear down the resistance of these leaders and learn about as many details both about the investigation into the genocide, as well as details on how the CAS conducted war against the Triumvirate (to advantage the Conchordate in a likely Conchordate-Triumvirate conflict).
The Aqmore, also an elder-favoring race, respected the Aartrisians’ seniority respect, and fostored a continuation of this culture.
The Conchordate was hesitant to allow junior civil servants to fill the vacated high-level positions, due to these servants coming from the culture of the previous administration. However, they would still allow about half of the positions to be taken by junior servants if they were determined to hold the ‘cultural values’ desired by the Conchordate. The other half would be filled with political outsiders meeting the Conchordate’s requirements. As to the bureaucracy, Conchordate occupation likely could be beneficial for everyday life, as the Conchordate desired to reduce corruption and increase government transparency. If the CAS had significant state-owned firms, they would be privatized.
For now the Conchordate organized an occupation government, the Greater AartrisianMandate Organization (GAMO). They were, however, laying the bedwork for an AartrisianFederation as a successor state to the old CAS. This AartrisianFederation would be an actual nation polity unlike the CAS, though it would still be a relatively decentralized federation and would likely have autonomous provinces.
The Command Ships, at least the ships still intact, were among the warships distributed among the victors. However, the Conchordate did begin a project to build Command Ship look-alikes as civilian trade stations in the orbital positions of the old Command Ships.
Heavy regulations on ship-building were implemented by the GAMO. These would make AF shipbuilding industries very difficult to be competitive in many ship-building markets, though they still were able to hold out in the small-ship private market and some niche markets. These markets would not be large enough to be a major industry for the AF, and only a secondary industry on Boreas itself.
Ventillian assets began to be returned not long after GAMO was established, as the Conchordate was pleased with the Ventillians for complying with Conchordate requests. After learning of Ventilian hostility due to the emergence of Ru, however, the return of Ventillian assets remaining was paused and the assets interned in warehouses pending any decision on their fate.
Whlie Boreas’ orbital infrastructure was modified and retooled, Boreas’ occupation government, the Borean Reorganization Council (BRC), established a project to strip Morrills Station no.1 of industrial infrastructure, retaining just the shell of a station. The station would be converted into a residential and commercial space.
Residential and commercial space habitats did not see significant changes under the BRC. The BRC was mainly concerned with heavy industry. The BRC was clear, however, with Boreas not remaining a heavy industrial world. The BRC attempted to promote this reorganization as economic diversification that would reduce Boreas’ economic vulnerability. The Conchordate did not have such a concentrated heavy industry (Mamorea, the Conchordate’s most industrial-concentrated shipbuilding economy was still fairly diverse, with major industries including software development, analytics, electronics fabrication, FTL drive fabrication, and shipbuilding. And while Mamorea produces many of the Conchordate’s large ships, Antillea still produces more tonnage, and other significant shipyards exist in other solar systems).
When it came to the Ticityko Union, the Conchordate knew it would be in it for the long-haul. It was likely that occupation of the Ticityko Union could last even after other sections of the occupation would be released. The Conchordate was very slow to fill positions, and would rely on Aqmore and Aqmore AI occupation personnel.
The Union was allowed to retain a slightly disproportionate share of the occupation’s 200 corvettes. The Union’s armed forces were to be reduced to 40,000 strong, with the Conchordate controlling the force reduction to inhibit the Union’s ability to retain talent during the reduction. This was more generous than with most former CAS nations, which saw more significant armed forces reductions.
Further hostile corporate buyouts ceased, as the Conchordate accepted corporate compliance. Bought out companies had a significant section of their executive leadership switched out for Aqmore executives, but most employees continued to hold their jobs. These companies mostly continued operations as before.
The Conchordate recommended imports of verinul from the nearby Celtanis and Saevia, however, consumption of verinul with the former CAS would be monitored, with transparency laws requiring extensive documentation on verinul purchase and consumption.
Unless the debt appeared to be a critical danger for the economy, the GAMO and BRC were unlikely to ease the debt burden, though they would attempt to raise progressive taxes and enact monetary and fiscal policies to manage the debt and maintain a net-zero deficit. The successor states would inherit the debt.
The GAMO and BRC would attempt to improve the perception of the TCCCP by exposing the population to the sympathetic plight of Soviets affected by this terrorism, as well as Soviets suffering from other sources, such as the Uchubian attack on Soviet AI citizens. However, this propaganda is careful to discourage Soviet-style militarism
Most of the Gaolan moons were organized under the Gaol Occupation Authority (GAO). GAO was beginning to be organized in a manner that was largely independent of GAMO, but still in close cooperation. GAO was being organized as a federal entity. Duam was organized independently, however, as the Duam Reorganization Authority (DRA). Aartrisian colonists on Duam would be resettled into the GOA, with the Gunduam taking control over the moon. Duam was allowed a slightly disproportionate armed forces and planetary defense force due to being surrounded by Aartrisians. The independence of Duam and its civilian successor government would be guaranteed by the Haban Conchordate.
An Aqmore passenger vessel was moved into Borean orbit and would serve as a base for Aqmuller to conduct his investigation of Satomi and its survivors. A significant Conchordate military presence was established in Satomi orbit to protect the planet from interference from anyone wishing to muddle the investigation. Conchordate scientific vessels were dispatched to investigate the state of the planet and its infection.
During the occupation, colonization efforts by Aartrisians was banned. This was to ease the administrative burden of the occupying authorities. This ban was temporary. The Conchordate attempted to establish contact with the Squa’izzi and the reptilians. The Conchordate also began salvage operations at the locations of these engagements to acquire Triumvirate technology. This was to learn the capabilities of the Triumvirate, how to fight them, and to give them identifying spectra and information to identify Triumvirate assets and help track down Triumvirate industrial operations.
Most of the Conchordate’s military assets in the occupied territories were oriented against Triumvirate attacks. The Conchordate also began establishing logistical networks, supply lines back up the AK route to the Conchordate, supply bases, and hangars from which they could prosecute war against the Triumvirate. Conchordate small-ships took up positions orbiting former CAS frontier worlds to protect the Aartrisians it was now responsible for protecting. The Conchordate used Aartrisian charts to find candidate ice worlds/moons that it could use as fortified bases. For now, unless the Triumvirate began attacks, these were merely preparations.
The Conchordate Expeditionary Fleet was not disbanded. It was moved to a neighboring star system (so as not to loom over the Aartrisian worlds) as a deterrence against the Triumvirate. It was augmented with significant numbers of Mardau refit class gunships.
Both Aqmore battleships from the Conchordate fleet were returned to the Mamorea shipyards for repairs. The damage they had suffered was extensive, and the Conchordate determined that it was not worth the cost of a full repair. They would be retained with limited combat capability as Antillean garrison craft, unlikely to ever leave the Ornea solar system ever again. The Balmer class fleet battleship program was fully cancelled, the ships still in production would be scrapped in-dock and their resources and dock space used to construct Lura class carriers. This would have a significant effect on ongoing Aqmore naval doctrine, eschewing the use of fleet battleships and large-ship fleets in general in favor of fleets mainly consisting of carriers and destroyers. Even the use of cruisers would be disfavored, mainly used in the role of the Ira as point defense units.
In addition to the above, the Conchordate began mandating the installation of transponders in Aartrisian FTL-capable ships. These transponders not only were used to identify ships, but also used low-power QEC transmitters to monitor the state of the FTL drives there are installed into and transmit this information at regular intervals to Conchordate government authorities. This information included the location of the FTL drive. This location monitoring was kept secret. The Conchordate focused themselves in using shadow-censorship on Aartrisian social media to minimize Aartrisian backlash to this action. The Conchordate justified these transponders as a ‘normal anti-piracy’ and ‘anti-terrorism’ measure. Conchordate civilian vessels already require the installation of transponders for identification purposes.
Endless Trouble in the Space-Balkans
The Conchordate provided information to Omonoia, with Aqmore occupation leadership briefing relevant Achaian officials over QEC. This included the mandated installation of secret location trackers into Aartrisian FTL drives, though it was presented as classified information that the Conchordate wanted to keep secret. They Aqmore explained that they hoped to let the protests run their course and perhaps distract them, hoping to not accidentally create an unfavorable situation by more heavy-handed methods, but that they were prepared to take more heavy-handed action if the protests appeared to become dangerous. The Conchordate suggested a policy of regular briefings by Aqmore occupation leadership for the victors. Diktor was also receptive to participating in a meeting by the victors on the occupation.
As to the Ventillians’ actions, it was clear that the Conchordate was outraged, and almost appeared to seem betrayed, believing the Ventillians to be within their sphere of influence. The Conchordate viewed this Ventillian ambition as an act of opportune hostility against the Conchordate. It was clear that the Conchordate would search for means to diplomatically or economically retaliate. It was also clear that the Conchordate was hostile to letting the Ventillians participate in Aartrisian occupation, due to the Ventillians presenting themselves as a threat to the Conchordate. The Conchordate did, however, stress that the Ventillians were perfectly positioned to cut the supply lines connecting the Conchordate with their occupation if conditions deteriorate.
Four dangers present themselves. Ru is one, though certain to have no real military capability and by far the weakest of the four. His threat is mainly diplomatic, by tarnishing the Conchordate’s reputation. The second are the Aartrisians. They were mostly disarmed, though Aartrisian insurgency could disrupt Aqmore supply networks. The Conchordate is considering disarming the Aartrisians of their remaining corvettes, though are worried that this might create the very insurgency they are trying to avoid. The third are the Triumvirate, whom the Conchordate is currently positioning itself against. The Conchordate believes such a conflict is likely over the next [few years]. The fourth is the ambitions of the Ventillians, whom the Conchordate is most vulnerable to. While the Conchordate believes itself capable of defending against these threats individually, if the threats coordinate together they could seriously jeopardize Aqmore occupation and possibly the Conchordate itself. What Diktor is most afraid of is Ventillian military intervention, accompanied by opportunistic Triumvirate invasion defeating the substantial naval forces in the occupied territories in detail. This has the potential of wiping out a significant amount of the Conchordate’s naval force. It is clear that Diktor views this as a very serious threat to the Conchordate, and that it must be avoided. The Conchordate will establish supply depots and fortified military harbors in occupied territory to try and make its logistics more resilient, but a diplomatic containment of Ventillian ambitions would likely be the most effective at protecting against their jeopardizing the Aartrisian occupation.
The information provided by the Conchordate officials to Anassa Omonoia and her advisors did, at least, assure them that Composer Diktor’s government took the threat of a restive Aartisian society seriously, and was prepared to counter any overt acts of violence against the occupation with force. In response, the Anassa again personally contacted the offices of Composer Diktor to express the League’s viewpoint of the work that had been done, and had yet to be done, to maintain peace in the Aartis System.
While Omonoia admired the detailed bureaucratic development inherent in the Aqmore’s occupational philosophy, the Anassa easily admitted that she was far more focused on finding the quickest, easiest, and most effective method of silencing the Aartisians forever. In that sense, learning that the Aqmore planned to let them continue their protests, and had gone so far as to cater to the militaristic desires of the Ticityko Union in giving them the greatest share of allowed Aartisian warships despite that nation being the first to violate the Coalition of the Aartis System’s declaration of surrender, prompted a harsh rebuke from the Anassa:
“You have angered me, Composer. Your rush to engage in this war brought me great joy, but, as I once cautioned against, you have squandered your opportunity to free this galaxy of an otherwise-unending torment at the hands of this scum from Aartis, and have contrived to do so with my Void Fleets’ support. It pains me to know that the Achaian people’s righteous fury has come to the Aartis System twice in so little time, and has yet to accomplish the vengeance that it exists to mete out.”
Nonetheless, Omonoia’s frustration with the Aqmore’s policies in Aartis did not prevent her from acknowledging the diligent work that Diktor’s agents had accomplished in mitigating the threat to the rest of the galaxy posed by dissidents, potential terrorists, and general riffraff infesting the system. The Anassa again called for a general meeting of the nations that had enforced the occupation in the first place in order to determine if a better way forward could be found, but Omonoia acknowledged that the present order was far preferable to the Coalition of the Aartis System: “I despise half-measures, but they are measures of some kind regardless, and they are infinitely better than what came before. For that reason alone, your efforts in Aartis currently enjoy my support and the backing of the Achaian League. That will change only if the collective wisdom of our alliance discovers a better and surer way forward.
“Any nation outside of the alliance that seeks to undermine the Aqmore’s occupational authority over Aartis and its people must stand against the alliance as a whole,” Omonoia added. “It is for the nations of the alliance collectively, and those nations alone, to determine Aartis’s fate. Outside factions that seek to interfere must therefore be treated as allies of the Coalition of the Aartis System, and thus explicit enemies of our alliance.”
Mere hours after Composer Diktor’s government received Anassa Omonoia’s firm opinion on matters as they stood, those nations whose fleets had congregated in battle over Aartis once again received the Megaron’s appeal for a general meeting, either in person or via QEC depending on the preference of the attending nations. Speaking on behalf of the Anassa, her representative, Zinovios Mesolongias, humbly requested that the governments of the Ka’lu’umil, the Athrugadhi Empire, the Techno-Union, Celtanis, and the Haban Conchordate make a prompt response to the Megaron’s request, so that they could formally back the existing Aqmore plans for the Aartisian occupation (or otherwise develop better ones), and could furthermore lay down their defiance against any opportunism on the part of the Ventillians or the Triumvirate, and establish their plans to defend the occupation against these outsiders’ possible military aggression.
(The an xileel, Ariilyth, 
Soviet Socialist Republic, Celtanis)
Breana's Office, Capitol Complex, Celtania
A note to the Aqmore was sent in an attempt to provide Celtanisian assistance, though it was an offer and not a declaration as to what they would be doing. Firstly, Celtanis offered back up supply lines to the Aartisians where the Aqmore could supply their interim government in Aartis should the Ventillians become more hostile towards the Aqmore occupation. A second offer, more idea than reality, of Celtanisian military support in any possible insurgence was made known. Breana had no intent of letting the Aartisians throw off an occupation this easily, and thus she made sure to note that should the Aqmore ask, Celtanis was willing to give.
Another issue on Breana's desk this morning was that of the Ministry of Information and the Ministry of Finance brought their report to her, their findings alarming. Though all assessments of their financial records of the noble families seemed to prove that their funds were legally gained, the speed and methods at which they grabbed the cash proved some of her doubts to be true: they were seeking power. What power it was, whether a return of their titles or simple dominion over the private industries of Celtanis, she did not know and neither did any of the Ministries or their advisers. In an attempt to see reasonable requests made by both sides, the Queen directed Parliament to order them to a hearing, which was made clear in the statement that it was not intended to punish or accuse but rather to put intentions on the table.
Once the Achaians had sent their message desiring a meeting however, Breana consulted her husband and other Foreign Affairs Ministry officials on the Celtanisian response. It was determined that it wouldn't hurt to attend, and they sent a statement along the lines of "We'll attend if a meeting occurs." She did not want to force others to a table, nor attend when nobody else was there. For now, she directed the Defense Ministry and Foreign Affairs to handle the matter while she dealt with the 'nobility' on the rise.
Estate Demares, Tinura, Marceljis
Jesse Demares had been reading over the statement he had been given by Parliament, brow furrowed and concern in his eyes. He was interrupted by his wife who had read it earlier. "She wants us to hand her our ideas on a silver platter so she can judge them." Felicia's tone was aggravated, but it was not enough to get Jesse to look up from the statement. He simply acknowledged her, "I know that Felicia, my concern is how am I supposed to not offend her while also maintaining our agreement with everyone else. Erana's been slightly anxious, considering she's demanding our presence in the capital in a week. Everyone else is trying to determine what our course of action is." He read over the last few lines and looked up, and saw his wife with her face in her hand.
"What do you want me to do about it Lisa? Not go and get arrested? Go and have her loyal subjects steal our money again when we displease her? We've already gone this far and are probably right up to or already past the line of treason. There's no turning back for Demares, nor for any other family we've agreed to take her on with." He stood up as he said this, while putting a sarcastic tone over the words loyal subjects while the rest was in a somewhat accusatory tone. Felicia took an equally aggressive tone as well, "We should have just taken their advice, got our money back and sat down while we were there. Think of how much easier it would have been to do that! Jesse, this time she's not going to only take our money, we'd never recover. Our kids would never recover, our family disgraced and left to die out while the Muoliera dynasty continued uninterrupted."
Felicia and Jesse looked at each other and almost simultaneously had their faces changed to ones of remorse. They apologized for taking such aggression out on each other, and simply both sat down and contemplated their next move forward.
It became rather clear from Clanaka's composure as well as his manner of speaking he had little interest in actually speaking. Havyard simply looked at his cup of tea, before deciding upon one last course of action.
"May I speak to whomever leads your nation?"
Evvia was a multifaceted planet, dotted with cities full of laborers and their bosses, ripe fields and vineyards full of serfs and their overseers, mansions and palaces belonging to the very wealthy few into whose hands the Achaian economy had fallen long ago, and the very occasional barracks complex in which small elements of the Thrakian Order and the Megaron’s most trusted spies kept an eye on the proceedings of a world that had become ever more removed from Anassa Omonoia’s authority in the last three galactic standard years. The planet’s urban sprawl and its rural beauty seemed entirely at odds with one another; the divide itself was a relic of divided leadership, of kyrioi and corporations that could never coexist without hard boundaries, scarring the second homeworld of the Achaian people in ways no less profound than the fissures and craters that had ripped through the first one at the moment of Reclamation. An outside observer could be forgiven for assuming that the Achaians on the planet, born and raised in such startlingly diverse locales and under the authority of such vastly different leaders, would have been no less different to one another than the wheat fields of Volos were from the skyscrapers and glass canyons of Pella.
Such an observer—an impossible presence, whose life would have been immediately forfeit simply for daring to look upon the Achaian people in their own homes—would have learned soon enough that their initial impression could not have been more wrong. The people of Evvia knew different lords and customs, but they shared fundamental traits that those lords inspired, and often took pleasure in: They toiled in squalor, they served without question, and they feared in abundance. They lived ignorant of any means to improve their lot, and certain that punishment would find those who dreamed of doing so regardless. And that punishment did not need to come from their masters, for the Achaians of Evvia were equally certain that their poor lot in life existed for a purpose above themselves, devised not only by the executives of Pella or the kyrioi of the vineyards and fields but by the anaktes of the Megaron dating back to Anax Kerameikos himself, who had taken upon himself the charge of maintaining the unity and shielding the survival of the League and all of its people.
But word had come years before that the Achaians were no longer alone in the galaxy, and that hint of change and danger, revealed to everyone on Evvia through official declaration and through word of mouth, had been enough on its own to ruffle the status quo. Kyrioi and corporate executives alike had worked to calm their underlings and preserve their control, but their approach was not shared by their own nominal mistress, Anassa Omonoia, whose reaction to a threat beyond her imagination was to upend all society and endeavor to rebuild the Achaian people and state into a bulwark both opposing and imitating the great pillars of galactic civilization abroad. Life on Evvia was overturned: The Anassa eliminated the kyrioi, marginalized the executives, mobilized (or starved) the people, and then proved incapable of controlling or maintaining the monstrosity she had sought to build on the ruins of it all. Even three years after Omonoia retreated from her position as unassailable head of life on Evvia, returning the factories to their corporations and the executives to their board rooms, the people spat at the mention of her name, while the executives wondered when she would next be prompted to usurp control from their hands in the face of global opposition.
For all that the people and the executives shared a mutual hatred of the Megaron now, however, the Anassa’s societal changes had utterly obliterated the previous relationship between the two parties in fundamental ways. By order of the Anassa, the people of Evvia had confronted a simple choice: be educated, or starve. Those who feared death more than the Thrakian Order had come together under guard on the campuses of schools and colleges across the planet, and had learned all that had been asked of them. They had become qualified chemists, physicists, and designers, as the Anassa had ordered… but they had also taken lessons beyond her stated curriculum, in history, philosophy, sociology, business, politics, and any number of other subjects that the Anassa had viewed as superfluous, and the business executives of Evvia might have labeled ‘dangerous.’ These were lessons that had been restricted to the prestigious few even before the Reclamation. Now, after the corporations had regained their control in 1249, their ranks were filled with workers who could recognize, and more importantly combat, the simple exploitation that had once defined their entire existence. The shared anger toward the Anassa would only bandage over this new division of power for so long before the executives and their employees came into a serious conflict with societal repercussions.
And, of course, the xenoi whose existence prompted this societal upheaval had not simply disappeared during that time. The Erviadus Galaxy and its many states and peoples remained an ever-present reminder that the Achaian League’s founding tenets could only be made real through an impossible purge the likes of which could never be contemplated, let alone undertaken. The very efforts undertaken to defend the League against the xenou threat required the Megaron, and therefore its people, to know more about the xenoi themselves: how they lived, what they built, and who they loved and hated. As more such information diffused throughout Evvia, and as the companies that ran the planet undertook to enter the wider galactic market in search of greater profits, the highly-educated survivors of Evvia, following the example set by their corporate employers, allowed their culturally-mandated disgust of all things foreign to wane, and not just by a little.
Into this atmosphere of change and dreaded anticipation came the book—perhaps even ‘the pamphlet,’ no longer than a playbill at a concert in Pella, and certainly not meant to withstand any kind of critical appraisal. But what the book lacked in direction and meaning, it made up for in detailed imagery and evocative feeling, intense enough on their own without taking into account the book’s exotic material. Given its subject matter, it was perhaps surprising that its publisher had agreed to put it into print in the first place. Like its author, though, the small publishing house had thought little of its possible implications, instead considering it a small piece for the reader’s amusement. Thrakian censors thought similarly. So too did the small book shops. But its readers, by and large, were not amused. They were inspired.
______
Diamantina Stavrou would later admit that she had been bored. Educated as a mathematician during the Anassa’s tyranny on Evvia, Diamantina had become a glorified bookkeeper for a construction firm after 1249, having finished her coursework just too far behind everyone else to gain lucrative employment under the arms developers, experimental laboratories, or the Void Fleets. Admittedly, the Foteini Works Company was not just any construction firm, given its previous history of huge contracts, skyline-changing architecture, and favored status among the larger manufacturing giants on Evvia and, formerly, on Peloponnese (indeed, it was sometimes claimed that the company’s founder was responsible for designing the Fyrkagia Tower; while the founder in question had been born on Evvia a century and a half after the Reclamation, Foteini’s executives did nothing to squash the reputation-enhancing rumor). The work was far better than the assembly line that Diamantina had worked on before the Third Silence, but it was nonetheless mind-numbing, and the reimbursement that she received for her services was mediocre: an apartment in Chonai, a cheap Skylos sedan, occasional restaurant and service discounts in very specific circumstances, and a week off of work every two months. She appreciated that last perk, at least, as the time off allowed her to keep up with her writing and her art, two well-loved hobbies that she had cultivated in college, and had tried to prevent from stagnating since.
Bookkeeping did not often require Diamantina to travel. Her enforced time in college had included one brief trip to Propylon Station, as well as Plateia Varnava on Nea Kerkyra below, but there had been little opportunity to interact with ‘locals’ (however that could be defined in a system that had been colonized in only the last five years with bureaucrats and itinerant merchants) or foreign travelers. Nonetheless, Diamantina had been entranced with the simple idea of living in a far-away place, distant not just physically from Evvia but also ideologically from what it had meant to be ‘Achaian’ for the last three hundred years. The experience of a mere week had been absolutely useless in terms of her career prospects, but she continued to treasure it, even three years afterward.
It had therefore come as a surprise that Diamantina had been selected to join the entourage of three Foteini executives on a journey to Ingos Tenum, as the company looked into the possibility of taking on contracts in the Achaian-governed enclave of Teno Achaion. The usual suspects for such a privilege were well-respected mid-level executives in their own right, generally responsible for the day-to-day running of Foteini’s marketing operations or, in the case of a few lucky managers, physical construction sites on Evvia. However, while traveling to Ingos Tenum had become increasingly common for speculative merchants in other lines of business since 1249, it was a new kind of risk for Foteini both physically and financially. Many of the high-level executives usually responsible for such business ventures refused to put their lives on the line on the homeworld of Erviadus’s great empires, and furthermore had little interest in risking their reputations on any venture that was so removed from Foteini’s usual contacts and business links. One daring individual among the board of directors—the man responsible for the prospect in the first place, of course—had enough reckless ambition to abandon his seat at the table for the two months or more that negotiations in Teno Achaion would require, but his partners at the negotiating table would be the same mid-level managers that normally accompanied him and his colleagues as hangers-on, hopeful that their accomplishments during their sudden and temporary promotion would bring them the positive attention of their superiors on the board. And of course these former hangers-on required hangers-on of their own. Hence the introductory appearance of Diamantina Stavrou, one of Foteini’s innumerable glorified bookkeepers, on the soil of Ingos Tenum in the second half of 1252.
As with her immediate managerial superiors, the journey was a one-of-a-kind opportunity for Diamantina’s advancement in the company. On a personal level, too, the trip afforded Diamantina a once-in-a-lifetime chance to bear witness to a wider galaxy outside the confines of the Achaian League, on the very homeworld of the League’s greatest rivals, where she could learn so much about the people that the Megaron and its agents had insisted would be the stuff of Achaian nightmares. Having spent a month and a half in transit fantasizing about what she would see upon her arrival, Diamantina’s excitement lasted as long as it took for the shuttle to bear her from one of Foteini’s interstellar passenger vessels to the spaceport of Nafplio. But then it dissipated, as the woman looked around at the bevy of new buildings surrounding her in the usual Achaian industrial style and realized that she had entered just another Achaian city, just a little farther away from home.
Within a week, Diamantina was outright bored. A trained mathematician had almost nothing to contribute to business negotiations that was not learned on the job, and Diamantina loathed her job. She was not impressed with Nafplio, a comparatively tiny city founded only five years before. She was intrigued with her glimpse of Palamidi, Despotis Ethanaros Kittalanos’s home and the seat of his government, but even the despotis’s wildly different approach to governing disappointed her when she learned that Kittalanos had invented the Hall Congress wholesale rather than adopting an existing local government for his own purposes. Even the intriguing perfumes in the air and the exotic dishes on the menu lost their appeal after a while, especially after Diamantina realized that the local Galians living in Nafplio had a strong tendency to adulterate their ‘authentic’ offerings to conform to the sensibilities of the Achaians who truly ruled this city. Other than Palamidi itself, overlooking the city to one side and the sea to the other from its mountainside perch on the coast, no Achaian traveler would have seen Nafplio and not felt at home.
Diamantina was bored. Likewise, her employers were bored with her, as it became clear that she was all but useless at the ongoing business negotiations that were the ostensible reason for her presence. Having already determined that she was not willing to put forward the effort for a promotion, Diamantina’s superiors had no interest in keeping her at the table when she would rather be elsewhere, and Diamantina herself had no interest in staying in Nafplio when there was so much else to see and do in a land that she would certainly never visit again. So after eight days of negotiations, when her immediate manager requested that she find something else to do for the day, Diamantina happily took a camera, a notepad, and a rental car out into the wilderness.
The ‘wilderness,’ in this case, was the town of Davotsk, a small collection of houses and a run-down former hotel erected in the vicinity of a temple and tomb complex housing the remains of the rulers of the local Galian communities in the earliest days of the state that would become the Galacturus Empire. Ruins covered the grounds, evidence of a populous city (for its day) that had long since turned to rubble in the centuries since the local dynasties had either died out or been replaced with disinterested imperial governors. The hotel had only come into being in the last fifty years, due largely to tourists from Valdrin finding amusement in the provincial history of their nation’s almost-vassal. The rest of the town’s population came as refugees, fleeing the Lygians’ sweeping conquest of Galacturus’s coastal cities and throwing together their ramshackle huts in the shadow of forgotten greatness when the small hotel ran out of rooms to shelter them. It had been twenty Ingosi (and, therefore, galactic standard) years since the Great War, Diamantina had learned, but Davotsk had changed little since the last of the refugee families had passed through in the hopes of finding a better place to settle, leaving the town with a population of isolated children and teens raised by staunchly-isolationist parents and grandparents whose stories of Galacturus’s glory days seemed, in the end, all too generically idealistic to be completely truthful. Diamantina wrote them down anyway, if only to try to imagine what Davotsk had looked like in the days when the hotel was new and the only population to speak of were Valdrinians coming to gawk at the Galians’ past. She wrote, and she photographed, and she wondered what ruins might have been buried under Kerkyra’s expanding sprawl in the years since the Reclamation, and what refugees from Achaia’s border regions might have said about that catastrophe twenty years since.
The next day, she arrived at Urkeski Pavos, where three villages more than seven hundred years old had grown up under the auspices of two noble houses who had enjoyed imperial favor, especially in the last years of the empire. The quaint village surroundings were interrupted by the occasional proof of industry, as local manufacturing had grown into a major industry as a result of the nobility’s disappearance in the aftermath of the Great War and the reinvestment of their abandoned wealth by a small collection of notable businessmen who settled in Urkeski thereafter. The community warranted prominent representation in the Right Chamber and somewhat-less-impressive representation in the Left, a say in government that was reserved for those population centers valued most highly among both the Galians and the Achaians who ruled over them. The people themselves seemed apathetic toward that distinction, however; from the oldest of them, Diamantina came to hear how the favor of the imperial government of Galacturus had only gilded Urkeski Pavos and its nobles’ reputations, while piling taxes and obligations onto the common people expected to support both noble and imperial ambitions. Under the industrialists and the Achaian government of Nafplio, that gilding still glittered and shone, and Diamantina was at least pleased to hear that the excessive taxation and general corruption of the imperial government had yet to make its reappearance in the five Ingosi years of Achaian rule—at least as far as the common people could tell.
Urkeski Pavos was also important enough to warrant a small outpost of the Thrakian Order, who made a strange sight in their locally-made mockups of the famous power armor so often seen guarding the Anassa on the Megaron. The Order’s presence on Ingos was initially extremely small, reserved entirely as a bodyguard unit for the Anassa’s despotis rather than for policing the large swath of territory that had come into Achaian hands. It had grown in the years since—not through any requests to the Megaron for more Thrakians, though, but from local recruitment. It was almost impossible to contemplate non-Achaians holding such coveted titles and wearing the memorable ceremonial armor, even if the armor in question was merely imitation. Yet Diamantina not only witnessed local men and women entering and departing the Order’s local headquarters in Urkeski and taking on the role of the Anassa’s own Thrakians, but she spoke to a dozen of them, photographed three of them, and then accompanied the local Order captain to the memorial artwork explaining exactly how this radical change could have occurred.
On the side of the tallest tower in Pavos, the smallest but, historically, the wealthiest of the three villages of Urkeski Pavos, a colorful mural was situated to catch the eye of every visitor from miles around. Diamantina had seen it from afar multiple times, and would have come to see it already had she not been distracted by the existence of Galian Thrakians upholding Achaian authority on Ingos Tenum. But the captain, himself an Achaian who had come with the first colonizing party to serve in Palamidi and had even guarded the Nafplio Conference (which required a brief explanation to Diamantina, who, like most common Achaians, had never heard of the event before, and had never realized just how long the League had interacted with the other Erviadi before their existence was revealed to the Achaian public), quickly ushered her into an official vehicle and took her to the mural himself, in order to explain its significance. Pavos’s central square was a perfect location to stare up at the tower rising above it, and the captain let Diamantina take a long look at the blue sky broken with strange red clouds, the green field bordered by colonnades and towers that Diamantina had come to associate with classical Ingosi architecture, the winged creatures—a flaming phoenix, a dragon, and at least two eagles—taking up the space between clouds and land, and the anchors leaning against almost every column in the image. In the center of the field, a crowned woman in arms sat upon a proud black bull, gilded horns bedecked with vines bearing small black fruit. The woman’s spear pointed to the heavens; her black shield bore another crowned head, this one of a bearded man, with a legend inscribed around the shield’s edge. The portrait was clearly too detailed to be a generalized ideal of womanhood.
“Queen Estella Amory,” the captain explained, “of Aserneateral.” He pointed toward the bottom of the huge mural, at head height, where the green of the field faded into a black background covered in silver and gold writing. “These are the names of our heroes who fell.”
Diamantina frowned in confusion as she stepped closer to the wall to read the names written on it. The local script was still somewhat beyond her, and the second-rate universal translator she had acquired from Foteini was unfortunately incapable of reading text, but she could recognize enough to see that the names were alphabetized from beginning to end, and that, where silver letters were replaced by gold, there was a second line underneath where an Achaian name was listed in her own language. “Heroes?” she asked.
The captain pointed to the red clouds—fireballs, Diamantina realized as she gave them a second look. “The Scourge came for Aserneateral in 1249,” he said. “The whole planet responded. We Thrakians commanded the local militias. Now the militiamen apply to become Thrakians themselves.” The man grinned at the mural and added, “You should see the memorial statue in Sarissa,” referring to the old imperial capital of Galacturus. “The despotis commissioned it almost as soon as the fighting ended.”
Diamantina stared at the mural for a little while longer. “I’ll do that,” she said eventually.
______
Ingosi Roads was an unassuming title, and neither the censors nor the booksellers cared much about a small pamphlet filled with photographs and descriptions of far-away lands. But the people latched onto any information they could find about a planet that had driven the Anassa to drastically alter (if not ruin) the lives of millions, and as the descriptions of the landscape gave way to descriptions of the Galians, the Achaians who lived among them, and their shared goals and accomplishments over the past six Peloponnesian years, Achaians across Evvia began to wonder what they could accomplish, both for themselves and for others, in the far reaches of the Erviadus Galaxy. It was a dream, even a flight of fancy, but for some, it had become something of an inspiration. And it most certainly fueled a new push from the commons of Evvia for more information from abroad.
The Anassa’s Commission, to be sure, was not amused. Foteini Works Company, on the other hand, was so pleased with the publicity that they established an interstellar projects team before they even knew the results of their negotiations, and made sure that Diamantina Stavrou was always part of the ‘away team’ whenever there was a job opportunity abroad. Public demand ensured that Evvia’s censors treated her work lightly whenever she returned to publish again.
Unknown Location
Yet again, two people stood again in this cold and dimly lit room. Yet again, one had no idea why they were being summoned. The work they had been performing remained flawless and timely. This time, there was no procrastination, all events were running simultaneously. If that was how the boss demanded, that was how it would go. It had been quite some time, so it begged the question as to what the purpose of coming here was. This time, rather than pulling an immediate defense, the subordinate remained quiet and waited for the boss to speak.
"We, those being my... superiors, and I, are proud of the progress you've made. It astonishes all of... us... who believe you are, going on to do marvelous... things, with the life you call your own. Certainly, your ethic... has improved... since we last met here. However, you know I wouldn't... invite you here, without good reason." The unpredictable pauses of this one continued. Random, untimely. "I'm sure, you'd be aware, of what we've ordered you to... perform, is quite wonderful. Our last meeting... oh dear they're back again." They couldn't see each other's faces, but those last words seemed to bring worry into the superior's tone.
"Your assignment came through, all the different parts of it. All of it started and completed at the time you requested, with no time wasting. I am curious to see what it will bring about here, if I may ask at least. If I cannot know that answer, why have you brought me here." They were not as anxious as they were last time, but there was always a worry when one was summoned to the principal's office. "It... occurred to the Board, that your work is wonderful. The relations seem to be, straining, where there was strength. Already, one has... been removed, from the equation. However, said equation... the Board is regulating carefully. Certain variables, ones that were not... expected, to take on such roles... are becoming larger than I had, anticipated. We need to... reevaluate, your position here, and just what your job description... entails. Rest assured, you are not... being terminated."
The last sentence brought relief, but the rest of them did not. "How is my job changed?" They asked with seeming sincerity, an attempt to cover the inquisitive tone, but it was not enough. "Oh, you ask many questions. It was... listed in your resume that you, did such. The changes... will be listed in the next, contract, or assignment. Whichever... comes first. We've attracted... attention, it is best I give you what I have, and see myself... out."
The sound of papers exchanging hands. Feet shuffled. Breeze continued. The room became colder, and this time, the lights went out.
~Ductu Station, Senate Tower, Office of the Speaker of the Senate~
Primus leaned back in his seat stopping for a few moments to look over the speech he'd been attempting to write for the last few weeks. It was rather short so far, but, it's length mattered little for the contents were far more important. As he scans the speech for any typos or other grammatical errors that, in actuality didn't matter too much for it was after all a speech and not a bill to be sent to the Senate Chamber. Regardless, these would still bother him and would potentially cause him to stammer in the middle of speaking to the nation. As he changes a 'to' to a 'too' and realizes he'd not yet titled the speech after weeks of writing it. Without a second thought he writes titles it in the header, and leans backwards once more to read it all out; Proclamation of Amnesty.
Reaching for his now room temperature coffee his arms path is suddenly blocked by the appearance of his personal VI's ball-like holographic projection.
"There is a significant development sir. I recommend you activate your holovision projector immediately." The VI floats in front of Primus' screen causing him to scoff in annoyance.
"Not now dammit, I'm nearly done." He mutters in mild irritation. Knowing it to be of grave importance, the VI does Primus the service of saving his progress and switching his computer to a live feed from Tuak. High Lord Admiral Leyton's speech played out, and all of its implications now crashing upon him like a roaring wave upon a rocks surface. As he began to close out the live feed to open a channel to the Lower Dome as well as his personal aide to call an emergency session of the Senate, he'd realized that he already had several missed calls already.
_________________________________________
"Senator's please!" Primus boomed, silencing the whole of the Senate Chamber. Several camera-drones hovered around his central spire as he formalized his next words carefully.
"This bickering is unneeded and unwelcome in this chamber. I called this meeting to form a consensus on our next course of action not argue amongst ourselves and point fingers. I am calling for an hour of recess, return with calmer minds." Primus sits as his spire begins to lower to the chamber floor. When it had stopped moving he stopped off followed by his aides. His Speaker of the Senate Commando's falling in line behind them.
"Valera please find me some Bejor Root Tea please, if I have to hear those Udairi Senators yelling at the Citralian Senators again I've no idea what I'll do." They entered the hallways of the Senate Building proper, the sounds of politicians and other public officials for once filling Primus with some sense of relaxation, at this point any noise is preferable to the bickering of the Senate. He neared a small lounging area with a humbly sized food cafe. As Valera stood in line to get his Tea him and his Commando's stepped outside onto an outdoor patio where the sounds of the city replaced those of the Unions officials talking to one another.
"Sir." His head of security stated, taking a step towards him while opening his holotool.
"I've just received a new development. The Security Bureau picked up an encrypted transmission near the Hormuzzia Occupation Zone. They say it's for you sir." Primus looked up at the man, then to his holotool in confusion and interest. But when the traitor and current enemy of the state Crenten Yamo appeared on the holotool his confusion shifted to disgust. He stared at the man, and began to realize this wasn't the same man who he'd studied these last five years.
This man was broken.
The Ventillians thanked the League for their prompt response and acknowledged the
right of the occupation forces to determine the fate of the Aartrisans.
To believe that the Ventillians were under the will of the Conchordate was —at least in
regards to the Aartrisans— mistaken.
It was also a greater stretch to assume that the Queenship desired to be direct
antagonist with the Aqmore. For the Ventillians, who treated their relationship with the
Aqmore carefully, the message sent to the League was the result of five years worth of
utter contempt for the Aartrisan Civilization poking out of it’s well controlled disguise.
The then T-SF had show such disregard of the sovereignty of Ventillians that not only
did they blazingly enter the Ventillian home system, but had the audacity to claim it as
their own. In reaction to the Atomic-lead incursion shattering a peaceful first contact, the
Ventillians annihilated the Aartrisan presence in the system, as well as the recovery fleet
sent soon after.
If it wasn’t for the Aqmore Hegemony stepping in with a peace treaty, the Ventillians
would have amassed a fleet of such magnitude that it would have guaranteed the
complete destruction of the Aartrisan civilization.
The Queenship contact the Aqmore with a series of grievances they possessed with the
Haban Conchordate:
- Through Aartrisan contacts the Ventillians had a general idea of the occupation. It
was of the opinion of many Ventillians that the Conchorate was too gentle on the
Aartrisans.
- The Conchordate had set a dangerous “guilty-until-proven-innocent” precedent in
regards to accusations against civilizations.
- The Queenship believed a double standard was in play after the Conchordate was
accused of actions that were of similar stature as the accusations against CAS.
The final part of the message was an ultimatum against the Conchordate:
Should the Conchordate occupation of the Aartris System fail and the scourge brought
on by the natives of that system once again threaten the region, the Queenship will take
the measures necessary to eliminate the threat originating from the Aartris System.
It is however, in the interest of the Queenship that such extreme measures will ever be
taken by any nation. That the Conchordate is successful in their endeavor to make the
former CAS territories cease to be the scourge of the north they’ve been associated to
being.
The Queenship of Ventillia gives it’s full support to the Haban occupation as well as
assistance combating the Triumvirate.
Humblest,
The Queenship of Ventillia
Many in the first and second groups were greatly concerned for their nations. Those that
were able to contact home did so as often as they could; hoping
to provide some form of assistance to their more inexperienced contemporaries.
The last group did not make much use of their limited access to communications. The
only leaders that did so were from the Ticityko Union. They grew frustrated with
repeating answers for the interviews and were increasingly more uncooperative as time
went on.
The leaders of the last group could furnish only the most basic details of the war against
the Triumvirate. They had handed over operations to an independent military command
known as the Coreward Expeditionary Fleet Command. The CEFC had headquartered
in a system far into the Coreward Territories which location was kept secret even from
them. Should the Aqmore find this system, the CEFC would be able to provide
invaluable intelligence on the Triumvirate.
The Ventillians would be of use in that endeavor, as they had installed malicious
software in all of the ships they were commissioned to help build. Along with the CEF
star charts and former personnel the Aqmore would be able to track down the CEFC
headquarters.
There was a benefit to CAS’s decentralized nature and the Conchordate’s previous
relations; the inability for radical Aartrisans to muster any meaningful resistance against
the occupation. The Conchordate’s anti-corruption and increased government
transparency policies stood well with many Aartisans and earned support to the
occupation.
This was far from the anticipated violence expected by the Ventillians and other nations.
This Command Ship copies gained some scorn from planet side and space side. Never
less they would be accepted.
These heavy regulations forced Aartrisan shipbuilders to finally innovate and truly
understand the machinery used in the craft. Old servers were dug through by archivists;
looking for ship designs and possible technologies they could reimplement into
shipbuilding.
Boreans would do their best to diversify their economy. For many it required new
education and the halls of Borean colleges and technical schools both digital and
physical received influxes of students.
The scholarly halls of other civilization could also see influxes into their programs as
well. Some Boreans looked to the possibility of a foreign education in other civilizations
in hopes of learning of new methodologies as well as technologies that could benefit
Boreas.
Another issue that needed to be dealt with was that Boreas possessed two planetary
AIs. They primarily managed the heavy industrial base on Boreas but with said industry
being striped away they were finding themselves with little to do.
The occupation had stripped most of Boreas’s leadership but there did exist celebrities.
There was one in particular, he was rather bizarre for his status among the Boreans but
yet maintained his popular standing with public works projects. Known as the Code
Officer, the some century old enhanced soldier was a former Atomic Naval Officer and
saw combat against the Finislandians. He oversaw Atomic’s black ops program in the
234FD System and authorized the replication of Admiral D’eto of Finislandia. (one the
such copies was serving as one of the two Borean planetary Als.) He would later be
imprisoned by the Finislandians but released soon after, returning to Boreas to take
action against his former employers.
The Code Officer held no official position in the Borean government and they regarded
him as an informal adviser.
While the Union was apposed to any military reduction, they accepted the more
generous military downsizing implemented by the Conchordate.
Fortunately, Union resistance to the occupation extended only to the military reduction.
The Conchordate would be swamped with applications from former Union soldiers and
civilians who wanted to take a more active role in forming this “Aartrisan Federation”.
The Union had spent most of it’s existence in the shadow of larger nations due to lack of
equivalent resources at it’s disposal. Other than the Union’s well trained military it was
an average Aartrisan nation with the minimal political power afforded at their level.
With the occupation, the Union saw an opportunity to truly lead from the front. It was an
opportunity they did not want to miss.
The Aqmore executives would find that the Aartrisan business world was rather
uncompetitive. The reigning corporate alliance killed competition and most companies
were unwilling to make any moves that might challenge the corporate mafia.
As of yet, neither Celtanis or Saevia have ended their verinul embargoes for the Aartris
System. Even when the embargoes are lifted, Aartrisan companies desired to buff up
local production to avoid purchasing foreign verinul.
The Aartrisan population was largely neutral in their opinions on foreign nations. Those
that held the more xenophobic views were not as pronounced as many neighboring
civilizations assumed. They were correct however, that many were radical enough to
take action on their views.
Terrorism against the TCCCP was not over. The largest remaining Aartrisan terrorist
group was the Blue Coin. Through interrogation of Black Coin operatives, it was learned
that Blue Coin were entirely independent of the Aartris System, reducing any ties that
could lead to their discovery. The last contact the Black Coin had with them was that
Blue Coin had been planning something bold. As to what exactly the operatives were
never told.
The creation of a Gunduam successor state on Duam by the Haban Conchordate was
widely celebrated by the natives. It would go down as a national holiday.
For the Gunduam, achieving independence was the dream for generations of their
species. Some chose peaceful means, others attempted revolutions. Both would have
their wish come true that faithful day.
The Gunduam would seek to exercise their independence by an election of their
leaders.
As Aqmuller’s investigation expanded to include Satomi, the Aqmore would learn just
why CAS was never outspoken on the events on said planet.
It was an ugly conflict.
The Pandora Virus had the terrifying capability to infect both biological and electronic
systems with ease. The virus came to plague Satomi in the hulls of crashed alien
warships. The virus utilized the advanced technologies within the ships to spread across
the planet. The some 500 million strong sentient species living on Satomi had just
invented gunpowder and lived in feudal societies, they stood no chance against the
technological horde that sought them out as hosts for an ever expanding plague.
Interviews with the Satomi survivors and Aartrisan personal would fill out what
happened next.
It was estimated that the Aartrisans discovered Satomi nearly a year after the virus
made landfall. At the same time the virus had made itself known to the wider region of
the Galaxy and the alarmism was in full swing.
The Aartrisans found themselves attacked almost immediately once in orbit. Many of the
crashed warships’ weapons systems were still operable and they engaged the Aartrisan
vessels from the surface. A brief meeting was held by the T-SF Security Council on what
to do and it was decided that available military units must be sent to eradicate the virus
on Satomi.
The operation began with an intense orbital bombardment of major infected areas. This
included the crashed alien warships as well as the native cities. The Aartrisans then
launched a disastrous ground assault that resulted in immense Aartrisan casualties.
With the capabilities of the virus made clear, the T-SF would reorganize and embark on
a bitter purge of the planet. The virus infected everything biological, from plants to
animals. This lead to the T-SF force to sterilize entire ecosystems and in some cases,
leave landmasses as nothing but burnt soil.
The operation was concluded a year later, in it’s wake was a scarred planet and any
survivors of the natives were to be transported off world for their own good.
Satomi was left under quarantine, only accessible by special request.
CAS’s last contact with the Squa’izzi was several months before the occupation, it being
a battle resulting in the destruction of a massive Squa’izzi space habitat. Since then all
sightings of the nomadic pirates that were the Squa’izzi ceased, leaving CAS to declare
victory.
The reptilians would go down in history as CAS’s first and only peaceful first contact of
it’s existence. There existed two major factions of the reptilians, the Skiss Collective and
the Re’ess Congress. The factions had been engaged in an escalating Cold War when
aspects of the Coreward Expeditionary Fleet encountered them. Though the
extraordinary diplomatic efforts of the twin duo Rimo and Riwo Stolbert, the two factions
were brought to the table for peace talks. Although by the Aqmore contact the
negotiations where still ongoing, the Collective and Congress had started relations with
the Aartrisan CEF. The reptilians were confused at the Aqmore presence and the news
they brought of CAS’s occupation. In regards to the Triumvirate, they had not
encountered them at all.
Analysis of the wreckage along with interviews of former Aartrisan CEF officers revealed
several things:
- Triumvirate ships encountered thus far by the Aartrisans were at the largest, 850
meters long.
- All were built in a cylindrical shape that maximized firepower in almost every direction
- Weaponry was primarily laser and beam based.
- Triumvirate ships were completely automated and possessed internal verinul
refiners, reducing the need for stationary venriul refueling stations.
- The largest Triumvirate ship at 850 meters possessed just as much firepower (if not
more) as a 1500 meter Aartrisan Striker Battleship.
Further and more in-depth analysis of the Triumvirate military was available at the
CEFC headquarters, once the Aqmore found it.
The Galactic Trade Commission, an aspect of CAS, had already been implementing
such measures before the occupation. As so, any protests against what the
Conchordate was doing was minimal.
Elana took a look at the necklace. The intricate geometric pattern reminded her of the great domes on Ava, the one built and installed by the Sakoor but a year ago.
"Wow," she said, "Uh, how much does it cost?"
The Vaanti man at the booth tilted his head. He did not speak Vermelly language.
Terros translates for her. "She would like to know the cost of the necklace. She's interested in buying it."
Rav was a little nervous, it was his second week as the nominated Head Speaker of the People's Democratic Government, and he was to deliver a speech to a crowd of 600 on the 50th anniversary of their people's Exodus from their former world, Riivasi. He had worn special robes for this occasion, lamented in feathers. It was an impressive dress that complimented his scales quite well, and to top it off he wore a necklace which bore a crystal, one that he viewed as lucky. He headed to the podium before him.
"Hello fellow citizens" He said with a charismatic wave and smile.
He mentioned a few other notable characters who had decided to attend before proceeding.
"As you all know, today is the 50th anniversary of our Exodus from Riivasi, to Riss. I will keep this short and simple, I know that today we all celebrate "Gauh", one of the most important days in our culture. I want to say I am proud of what we achieved in those 50 years! We started with little, we had come to this moon with the bare minimum. We had to survive the harsh storms, and the treacherous floods that this world entails! But we thrived on! We built our Cities on the water, we built them on stilts and we expanded over time!" He lost track for a moment, for he didn't know where to proceed from there. He felt like an Imposter talking about a topic in which he had no clue about, a topic someone for him.He hesitated.
"I suppose it takes chaos to help people realise where order lies sometimes. Out of chaos and destruction comes clarity, I would like to think our settlement here on Tarissa is a tribute to that notion. We as a species have thrived the chaotic storms and conditions of Riss, and thrived through whatever situation we found ourselves in, not as individuals, but as a whole! Which is one of the reasons I am proud to announce, for the 50th anniversary of our Exodus to Riss, we have established the Riivasi Historical Center, to celebrate the history left behind on Riivasi!
A few applauses rang through the crowd that lied beneath the Head, but most Riivasi looked upset and even agitated, which not coincidentally was the older generation of which fled the cursed world.
"You want to idolize and remind us of the horrors we went through? You dare allow such a construct to line the streets of Tarissa? Explain!". This outburst followed with shouts of approval and agreement. A noise started amongst the crowd, and a angry murmur started to grow
Rav cleared his throat and flared his nostrils.
"Let me ask... Most of this crowd follows the teachings of the 15 Ascended Masters, correct?". A few heads nodded. "The Masters, you know as well as I, taught us important values that we can take note from! Master Garivyg taught us that if we ignore the mistakes of the past, we are bound to repeat them and realise the same fate once more in the future! Master Dyo-Dyo, showed us how our weaknesses and past faults can make us more powerful than we realise. Do you think the Masters, who helped fruition our collective awareness and conciousness were incorrect?!?". None of the crowd responded, and the murmur that was there, in an instant disappeared. "Then let this shrine dedicated to the past serve as a vessel, a symbol! We can not his our scars and lie about our past! This is not the way of Goying! Let our children, and their children, and then their children learn from this center! Let them see our faults, and use it as a foundation for a better world! Is this not a noble cause?" The crowd was bewildered, no one had seen a better orator than the Head Rav and his words had seemed to sooth the crowd, and make them thinj. The man who had questioned him before stepped forward once more, in a more humbled manner.
"Please Master Rav, we did not mean to question the actions of our Head Speaker. Most here, even I of all people! We… We recollected the terrible fate of our loved ones, and of our former home, we meant no disrespect." He bowed his head down in shame.
Master Rav stepped down, and with a toothy smile, he wrapped his arm around the man. "Do not bow thy head in shame, I know you Esiah are a good public servant, and an honest man, and I would not expect such a man to cloak his concerns in the shadows." Esiah was stunned at the reaction of the Head, and even moreso at the fact he had known his name. Esiah whispered out thanks, and returned to his seat. Rav was received with applause, and then he formally opened the center, as he headed to his vehicle he heard a snarky voice.
"So.. "Master Rav", I didn't receive notice that public sermons were a part of the Speakers duties." This voice was the voice of Illiah, a member of the Inner Circle of Circassa, who undoubtedly heard the speech.
"It is quite improper, and unnecessary! I suppose this is what we should expect from a "Newblood"". The term Newblood was a slur for those who are deemed unqualified, and one he had heard before. The two of them entered the vehicle, for it was reserved for members of the counsil, and Elliah was entitled to it's use as much as he was.
"Still bitter about the fact I received the nomination, instead of yourself? Have you come here to pester me with insults Illiah?" A wretched look came about Illiah, one of pure displeasure.
"Of course not, I would never insult our 16th Ascended Master, oh no! I came to inform the Head Speaker that our telescopes have taken photos of what appears to be some sort of StarCraft...! Of course, I should have realised you have divine omnipresence and you already knew". Rav was almost immediately overcome with concern, and ignored his remark.
"What? Are you trying to make a fool out of me? Is that it?"
"Of course not! Here's the report from the Ministry of Intelligence, your presence is needed at once. At this moment communication is being attempted! Bwahaha! The morons are probably trying to talk to a space rock, the idiots. But I suppose idiocy isn't something new in our government, is it"
Illiah threw the papers into his lap. Rav tried his best to hold in his cool, he clutched his robes and starting chanting affirmations to himself. The two rode in silence to the Ministry of Intelligence.
The Satin Doll was one of the fewer piloted ships now still serviced in the Navy. The captain was vehemently opposed to submitting his ship to the changes, and eventually wore out the Ministry of Defense. The Ministry put the Satin Doll on one the Celtanisian Contact Fleet, one of the few fleets that still required officers aboard the ships. The Contact Fleet's purpose was simple: to document as much space as possible and to look for any possible life there was. Mostly, it was boring as the fleet split up a small volume of the galaxy and began searching. The officers aboard the Satin Doll were certainly starting to get somewhat bored by the lifeless void that the stars and planets had in the region. They only bothered to scan the few that had abnormalities currently, a deep search would come later. For now, the search was limited to abnormalities.
The communications coming from a small moon were certainly one abnormality that had everyone aboard the Satin Doll, though few they were, excited and glad that their efforts were not in vain. The captain, Edward Ellington, attempted to prevent their excitement from turning into distraction by having everyone focus on sending signal back.
"Captain, how do you suppose we respond? Their communications are certainly something, we're using the translators to get the whole message, but we should probably let them know we're not hostile," came the quick words of Officer Dean Martin, who was working on translating the message. He had something ready to go for Ellington to give him a message to deliver.
"Quote this verbatim if possible: 'Greetings, this is the CSS Satin Doll of the Monarchical Republic of Celtanis. We discovered you on a task to find life in this sector of the galaxy. Please do not be alarmed, we come in peace. If possible, we would desire the ability to land and meet with a governing body of your planet.' Just get it as close as you can, I'm sure the message will come across." Ellington then began asking for scans on the moon to see how life was sustained and where settlements were. He would be doing this as he waited for a reply from the moon.
Post self-deleted by Esonian empire.
«12. . .2,9682,9692,9702,9712,9722,9732,974. . .3,0113,012»
Advertisement
