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Post by House of D'Ordinii on Aug 18, 2017 17:27:40 GMT -8
==Colony Ship SL==
<<102 PP; G11 Sector, Pride of Damocles colony>>
The star had no official name. It was, in fact, lacking anything except a classification number. The B class star burned a pale blue-white in the center of empty star system. Or mostly empty as the case may be.
The largest physical object in the system was not a natural body. It was the fifteen thousand meter Assertor-class Star Dreadnought, Pride of Damocles. The ship had never left the system. It had in fact been built there as a proof of concept by a small fleet of mobile shipyards. A massive project that had completely consumed the scant resources of the metal poor system.
The Pride was deceptively quite from any external view. Silently drifting around the star in a decaying orbit, many would assume at first pass that the ship was abandoned & derelict. That was not the case. The Pride was safe sanctuary & home to nearly two hundred thousand members of Clan D'Ordinii. It was the single largest ship that was part of the mobile colonies in the entire clan. It wasn't technically the largest mobile colony however, as some of the colonies boasted a higher population, though scattered over more ships.
Praetor Periwinkle Lightchild, elder of Clan D'Ordinii was the man granted command of the massive vessel. His day to day requirements were surprisingly few, as the ship mainly continued in its slowly decaying orbit & the crew mostly dealt with their own problems. The benefit of a Mandalorian culture, even if it was more imperial than mainline breed.
Today was different however. Today was special. It was the anniversary of the ship's engines powering up for the first time. The first time the ship had moved & fired under its own power. The Praetor was standing on the never unoccupied, but seldom used bridge of the mighty craft. For the event, the bridge had its full bridge crew on hand.
-Praetor Lightchild
All systems ready?
A series of affirmative met his question. The weeks leading up to today had been spent carefully double checking & triple checking every system on the ship. It wouldn't do to have the day itself marred.
-Praetor Lightchild
Very Well. Full Power. Shield to maximum. Engage engines. Weapons begin firing sequence. Sensor pulse.
The effect was immediate. Running lights that had previously lain silent, flickered on, bathing the outer hull in stark light. A bluish halo shimmered to life around the ship as the shields pushed themselves nearly to the point of overload, spitting sparks out into the void in their fury. The engines roared to life, roughly shoving the massive vessel further from the star it orbited. Hundreds of weapons spat red fire out into the void, targeting phantoms that only existed in the computers. Only the solid ammunition systems remained silent. The sensors burned bright swathes into the empty darkness of the system, seeking even the tiniest speck of mass to lock on to.
The entire display continued for only ten minutes. Then the ship fell silent again. Weapons & sensors rotated back into the basic locked ahead setting they would remain in for another year. Engines darkened once again as the ship continued to drift further on the new ballistic course. Shield shimmered back into their normal invisible state of a low power mode. The running lights also darkened, fading in patches along the hull until only starlight & the dim blue glow of the distant sun shone.
The ship would remain silent for another year, the systems would be carefully inspected following the test as always. All the systems would continue to be inspected regularly, but the yearly test was a special occasion. The ship would coast out for a while longer, then would start drift back toward the star again. The yearly test was important as it showed that the ship could still move & fight if needed. Lightchild doubted that the ship would leave the cold embrace of its system of creation any time during his life. There was just no need.
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Post by House of D'Ordinii on Aug 18, 2017 18:30:50 GMT -8
==Power of the Imperium SL==
<<75 PP; G14 Sector>>
Krakensky was getting ready to get fitted for his first set of true armor. He had been wearing armor most of his life, but it had been the mostly uniform training armor common for those that weren't done growing. He was on board one of the specialty factory ships, one converted to produce the wide ranges of armor available to those in the Clan. Entering one of the open fitting rooms, he quickly stripped down & placed his old training armor in the container provided. Holding his arms out in a pose that was nearly second nature, he allowed the sensors in the room to scan him. That would allow his armor to be fitted exactly to him.
As the scan finished, the hologram suites in the room activated, showing the three basic exo options. A light option, a standard option & a heavy option. All of them would provide the skeleton for the armor that would soon be made for him, as well as providing a certain amount of physical enhancement. The heavier the option he chose, the more powerful the servos that would be built into the armor would be. Each of the options from here on would have prices listed next to them. He would be required to pay it back, but at Clan rates it wouldn't take long, even with a very heavily kitted out suit. He already had a fair idea of what he wanted though, as he had already spent a good bit of time with the catalog looking through the vast array of options.
He decided on the medium build exo & the system moved on to the next step. The medium build would mean he could carry the suit & a fair amount of gear as easily as he could walk around in his skin. It would need to recharge once a day, but that took less time than sleeping & could be done while still wearing the armor. & if power was an issue it could be dialed down to last for weeks of minor boosting or he could even get an extended power source. After he had picked the type, the standard kit was displayed, giving him the option of knocking off things he didn't want. A few pieces were locked, being required by the Clan, but the rest could be removed or replaced with more powerful (& expensive) gear.
The Data holocron slot & HUD link were locked in. The datacron he had been issued shortly after birth & had been his constant tool his whole life, like a second pair of hands. After all these years it had grown into a extremely helpful device, & he had heard rumors of some people treating them like friends after enough years. The device was a crystal roughly the size of a small energy bar & plated with nearly that much more high impact armor.The longer a person had one, the more efficient it became. The HUD link was the interface that would allow him to interact with pretty much any & all of the Clan systems.
The commlink system he left as it was, being able to contact orbit with enough bandwidth to play high definition holos was likely more than he would ever need as is. The physical uplink system however he bumped up from a scomp link to a universal computer interface. It would allow his datacron to connect much better with physical systems. For the suit's sensors, he kept with the standard enhanced optics suite & the similar audio systems. He wasn't planning on being in a combat role, but the standard improvements would be extremely useful in any emergency situations at the least.
The next on the list was the medical systems. The diagnostics were also locked. The Clan liked to be able to monitor everyone's health remotely, as it tended to solve a number of problems before they became major. He did add on an emergency induction port, that would allow him to pull fluids into his suit safely without having to break the seal. He also added on a temperature regulation system. He didn't have any plans for unaided walks on extremely hot or cold worlds, but it was still possible.
The last option he added was the neural jack. It would literally wire him directly into his datacron, & from there into the Clan Holonet. It would make the entire armor effectively a second skin. It would make the HUD somewhat redundant as the info would be pumped directly into his brain, but redundant wasn't bad. It would also require a surgery before he could hook into his armor, but that wouldn't stop him from wearing his armor normally until he could get the link installed in his head. There were literally thousands of other options he could have added to his armor, but for the most part they focused on areas he wasn't interested it or wouldn't need. He did add a hard point to each forearm, each shin & his shoulders. That would allow him to externally mount other gear he might need on a temporary basis. Krackensky also added a pair of cargo modules to each hip. They were effectively a mix of hard shell cargo pockets & a utility belt.
After that it was just a case of picking from the nearly endless cosmetic styles & shapes for each of the amour plates & helmet. The wonderful thing was that the styles would be built around his picked equipment, so he could pick whatever style he wanted without worrying about any of his gear choices messing up the view he was looking for. The only down side was he wasn't able to pick the armour's material. It was locked as the same material that Palpatine's Empire had used for stormtroopers, though in grey instead of white.
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Post by House of D'Ordinii on Aug 23, 2017 9:31:24 GMT -8
==Making War SL==
<<101 PP; F14 Sector>>
Artodium Immem was waiting in her cockpit. It was surprisingly roomy for a snubfighter. More like something you would find on a bomber or even a smaller light freighter. It was obviously designed for a single pilot though. She was currently running checks for both her main fighter & the drone fighters that would be her wingmen. All five were M3-A Scyk Fighter. In many respects, the ships were more or less identical with the A-Wing fighters that had been used by the Rebels against Palpatine's Empire. Of course, they weren't quite as fast & they lacked a lot of the more advanced equipment. Her screens were dark, both the main ports that surrounded her & the smaller side displays showing a small forward view from each of her drones. Looking straight forward, a quickly falling counter ticked down the time until the launch. As it hit zero, the hatch before her opened up, just a bare moment before the automated launch system flung her out into space, followed instantly by the four drones that had been stacked back behind her like marbles in a tube.
Looking to either side showed lines of fighters identical to her own extending out away from her. Each line was made up of five of the fighters like her own, twenty-five lines across, with three rows below identical to the top one. a solid five hundred fighters launched in less than two seconds. With an equal amount launched from the wing on the other side of the massive Lucrehulk Carrier. That didn't even count the five hundred M22-T Krayt Gunship that served as bombers for the formation. Technically, not a single pilot had launched though. Despite the point of view that her screens held, the M3 she was piloting didn't even have a seat in it. Instead it was a drone like all the others, remotely controlled from a secure pilot station on board the carrier itself. She knew some sectors had starfighter elements with older non-drone fighters, but they were usually honor guard units that would only see combat against light pirates at very worse. All that slowly drained out of her mind as she registered the foe they were facing. A realization that quickly drained the blood out of her face as well. This was going to suck.
A super star destroyer. She wasn't sure what type, but it didn't really matter. True, their carrier was large, huge in fact, but it didn't carry much of anything for weapons. The SSD was even larger still, & was designed to fly into the middle of combat. TIE fighters were already boiling out of several hangers down the length of the craft, a horde that vastly outnumbered their own fleet of fighters. As the lines of fighters gained enough distance from the carrier & each other, the drones following the lead craft fell into a sort of diamond pattern behind her lead fighter. Each set of five was officially referred to as a squad, despite only being a single pilot. Every little twitch of the control stick or instruments was copied in all five fighters instantly. It was like having a mind link between five pilots flying in unison. In closed in areas it got more complex as the drones had to adjust the controls to avoid ramming things, but it was still a sight to see.
Their only hope was to close ranks & physically shield the bombers until they could get close enough to attack. It was a tactic called plowing the road. With the M22s gathering in the middle of a cone of fighters, the M3s opened fire directly ahead. Instead of trying to target individual TIEs they would just seek to pump out enough fire to either destroy or scare away any of the fragile fighters in their way. The wave of TIEs met the lance of tightly packed M3s as the SSD opened fire into the carrier's heavy shields.
With five fighters, there was the issue of how to get the weapon fire to converge in the right spot. Too sharp an angle & the fire from four of the fighters would cross harmlessly short of the target. Too shallow & it would pass behind the target. Automatic systems could handle it for the most part, but with the chaos of fighter battles there needed to be a more intuitive control. So while a system kept the angle in roughly the correct place, a small scroll wheel by the pilot's thumb allowed them to manually adjust the angle on the fly. For the moment, all the pilots had it set as far back as possible, meaning the fighters were all firing more or less directly forward. Even the shots that didn't connect with the TIEs were helping, as the massive bulk of the SSD was the backstop for this particular run.
There was a quick shift in view & a fraction of a second of disorientation, as her lead fighter took a stray bolt from either a lucky TIE or the SSD itself. With the destruction of the lead ship, control had immediately shifted to one of her remaining drones. It wasn't difficult to stay focused, as control shift was just as heavily trained in as any other part of piloting the drones. A quick glance around showed the fighter screen wasn't doing well. That was the cost of this tactic. Of her five M3s, only three remained. Most of the rest of the squads where doing just as poorly, but the M22s had been shielded from most of the damage. A combination of the shields on the M3s, the M3s themselves, & the shields on the M22s had ensured that nearly all of the M22s had survived until now. At last it was time to finish the race. As the wedge of ships entered solid range for the M22s, they peeled open, revealing their deadly cargo. nearly five hundred M22s opened fire at once. A blazing pillar of missiles & torpedoes aimed at the center of the SSD. As the wave of fire reached the massive enemy craft, the worst happened. Her controls went dead & 'CARRIER LOST' blazed across her view screen.
The drones floundered for a moment, trying twice in quick succession to contact the now destroyed carrier & the pilots on board. Failing that, they went into seek & destroy mode. Several had been destroyed by the TIEs in the brief lull in command. Now the remaining M3s & M22s turned a baleful mechanical eye on the biggest target listed as an enemy. Turning as one, they opened fire with all weapons, flying forward at full speed. They did not cease firing until their headlong flights had driven them physically into the massive side of the craft exposed by the first wave of attacks from the M22s. Nearly a eight hundred M3s & another four hundred M22s in a kamikaze run was a terrible thing, but the SSD weathered the storm. True, it would be a long time before it was fully repaired but it would live to fight again.
Artodium Immem took the time to appreciate the show. In anything other that a simulation run, she would have died when the words 'carrier lost' had been displayed. The nice thing about the system though was that it was literally no different, experience wise, from actually launching the fighters & flying them around. The system was both a training system & a combat system. A useful enough feature that prevented those little hiccups that tended to crop up when moving from a simulator to an actual cockpit. The after action report for this was going to be a pain. True, the system recorded everything, just like every other part of life in the clan, but that just meant she didn't have to write an actual report. She, along with all the other pilots, were going to get an earful of what could have been done better.
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Post by House of D'Ordinii on Aug 26, 2017 18:01:08 GMT -8
==Power of the Imperium SL==
<<105 PP; G9 Sector>>
Auntrill was watching dataflow levels. At least for this sector. The sector was neatly bisected by a blue string. The line corresponded exactly with the main hyperlane through the sector & for good reason. The remainder of the map was a field of black scattered with blue dots & green blotches.
The map wasn't difficult to read. Put very simply the blue areas were the ones that had data connections high enough to support full control. This meant that the drone ships & troops in those regions could function completely under the control of Clan Ancestors or Clan citizens in other areas. Green areas were the ones that had enough data connection to support HUD uplinks to the Clan's private holonet. The black were regions that were still completely off the map.
The main blue line was the core skeleton of dedicated holonet nodes that had been seeded from one edge of the galaxy to the other. The web of filaments slowly growing out from that root were the new connection nodes coming on line as they arrived in position. Finally, the blue dots roaming the map were the various ships of the Clan, each with its own node. These regions were generally considered Controlled Space.
The green areas, known as Overwatch Space, were those places that the Clan had resources, but hadn't yet installed a dedicated node. Minor Clan colonies, resource harvesting operations, research sites, diplomatic embassies, anywhere the Clan had a lasting presence generally speaking. In these regions, the Clan's automated systems were limited to direct control from operators located on site or generalized orders from remote sites. Small, well-defended bunkers served as local control hubs when fine control was needed on a regular basis at a particular site.
The last type of area was the black. It was the largest of the areas, at least in a sector this far from a major Clan hub. Here were the areas that the Clan had no active touch in. Citizens there would be unable to contact the Clan Holonet & the automated systems would be limited to the programing already loaded into their hardware.
The temporary nodes were fairly small, relying more on redundancy to prevent loss of contact. The size of a smaller corvette, they were able to redeploy themselves as needed. Of course, their small size meant they only had a fairly limited bandwidth for dataflow. The dedicated nodes were a totally different story. Each was the size of a decent space station, a fully automated behemoth defended by a host of fighter & bomber drones & a literal army of MER drones. Each was designed to be parked in some barren little patch of space & left alone, not requiring refueling or restocking of any kind for decades at a time. Excluding damage from attacks, at least & even then it could handle a surprising amount of self repair. Just one could handle a few dozen heavily populated systems & hundreds of minor outposts within the node's broadcast range.
Auntrill knew that most of the Tingel Arm, the heart of the Clan, was solid Controlled Space. As was the ancestral homelands of Lehon. Other than that, the largest control cluster was down in the south eastern sectors of the galaxy, an area that had a long history with the Clan. As were many of the sectors nearest to those regions. Spreading out from there like ripples were the regions of Overwatch Space & then the black of empty space. & threaded through it all was the web of blue that formed the interwoven spine of the Clan.
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Deleted
Deleted Member
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Post by Deleted on Dec 30, 2017 20:39:17 GMT -8
-Several Weeks Prior-
Deep in the Unknown Regions, a most curious group of vessels were clustered together. A fleet consisting of both Imperial and Republic vessels was gathered for an important meeting. Dominating the scene was the Pellaeon-Class Star Destroyer Herculean. In the superstructure of the ship, a special tower had been constructed on the vessel. With bright red walls and the Reminant’s emblem in gold, all around a meeting table, this room was well suited for its role. Today, sitting at the table were the four Moffs and the High Moff. The people meeting each had a single glass of champagne in front of them, along with a set of controls. At the center of the table was a small silver globe.
“You overestimate the ability of your Knights, Monteverdi. One of them got himself and a battle group destroyed after attempting to navigate the deep core!”
A man dressed in the white uniform of StrykeForce spoke this; he was an arrogant man, and he would take any chance he got to put down anyone else for his own gain. Though he was loyal, he was also ruthless.
“That may be true, but your forces have the highest casualty rate of all of us here!”
“Yes, but we do must of the legwork.”
An older man stood up; the admiral of the fleet. He had seen empires crumble due to this infighting, and knew better than to simply stand by. While by no means the strongest of them, he was without a doubt the most respected amount them.
“Enough of this! The longer we sit here bickering, the longer our men suffer! I understand that you have pride in your forces, but you must let that go for now. We are running out of supplies, and we need a solution.”
The StrykeForce Commander had stood up and was about to give a cheeky response, when the double doors at the end of the room slid open and High Moff Cicero entered the room. Immediately, the squabbling men fell silent as he took his seat at the table. As their leader, he commanded the most respect, and they were loyal to his every word.
“Listen here, the Galactic Alliance has the means of supplying their troops, we do not! I am opening negotiations with the First Order in hopes that they will see reason and allow us to work with them, rather then against them. Admiral Pellaeon is in command until I return. Is that clear to all of you?”
The other men nodded before the High Moff left. They then returned to their drinks before Gerard spoke again.
“Admiral Pellaeon, I hope you understand crossing me is a mistake.”
“While I am in command all of you must obey me. There will be time for this sort of squabbling later. This is not the time nor the place for this fighting. Am I understood?!”
Gerard stopped, stunned by the man’s harsh tones. He nodded submissively before sitting back down. Normally, General Speer would be around to keep them all calm, but he had been injured and was recovering. The Council was strained now, with each members personality showing itself. Tarquinius knee if he did not get help soon, all would be lost.
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Deleted
Deleted Member
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Post by Deleted on Dec 30, 2017 23:31:09 GMT -8
The trio of ships exited hyperspace alongside the rest of the fleet. Cicero and his guard took a shuttle to the Herculean. Striding into the meeting room, he could see the seething face of Gerard, the welcoming smile of Cassio, the calm demeanor of Giliad, and the crooked smile of Maximilian. Taking his seat at the head of the table, Cicero cleared his throat.
“Council of Moffs, here is what we have. We are now allied with the First Order. I will bring up a copy of the treaty for each of you to examine.”
Swiping his hand across the computer panel, he allowed each of them to view a copy of the document. There were murmurings among them before Gerard stood up.
“We should not have to depend on these people for our survival!”
All eyes at the table turned to face the rash officer. Cicero gave him a piercing glare before ignoring the comment. He knew that there was a lot of tension between the Moffs. Each one of them had different goals. Though they were loyal, between themselves they had their infighting. This worried him, but there wasn’t much to do in order to stop them. Their squabbles never amounted to much, os he payed them no mind. He held up his glass, and each of the Moffs did as well. This was a tradition they had, and they weren’t about to break it. After they finished their drinks, each one of them went to their respective places. Gerard went to the training room, Maximilian went to the infirmary, Giliad went to the bridge along with Cassio and Cicero. Ordering the ships to get underway, Tarquinius hopes desperately that this would be a respite in the never ending problems he faced.
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Post by House of D'Ordinii on Jan 2, 2018 23:05:08 GMT -8
==Making War SL==
<<106 PP, F12 Sector>>
Ruby Mind was a Kyramud-type battleship. KYR-36534 to be precise. The design wasn't particularly large, but on Imperium ships, they always felt bigger than they should. When it had first been made, the ship had been designed to host a crew of twelve hundred working souls. With the ages that had passed & the technology that had advanced since then, the required crew size had dropped to a percent of that. Of the twelve people on board, Chiulen Ilzezalf was not particularly impressed with the ship. He had served on everything from the largest warships flown by the Imperium, to the smallest. He had served on a Kandosii dreadnaught that was nearly the size of an Imperial Star Destroy. An old beast by the name of KEL-5927 Unmounted Memorial & only hosted a hundred people. Now that was a ship that truly felt empty. On the other hand, the Jehavey'ir he had served on, JEH-100124 Fair Dream, wasn't that bad. Despite only having a crew of two, it still had the ability to feel homely.
Of course, all that extra space wasn't really extra. Most of the space that had been saved had been gutted out to make room for the automation systems that lowered the crew requirements in the first place. Sure there were access halls everywhere through the equipment, but while it was more like moving through an active factory line than being in crew areas. What hadn't been gutted for equipment had been devoted to the automated nutrition systems that kept the crew going. It wasn't particularly good chow, but as long as the stars were shining, the crew would die of old age before they would of starvation.
Of course the Imperium didn't think that was a proper outcome for a military crew either. Tucked away in the bowels of the ship was a well protected area. Hidden within what would be an outrageous amount of hull plating in any other national ship, was a bay of cryogenic tubes. There were enough tubes installed on the ship to support the entire original size of the crew if it became needed. Additionally, the tubes were grouped into individual clusters so that if something did managed to pierce the protect around then, the damage would be limited. As a final little bit of over-engineering, each tube had its own power coil loaded into it. Enough power to last a running tube a hundred years without problem. He knew not all the ships had the cyro-bays yet, but Ilzezalf was also aware that refitting them into the ships was a high priority. That & every new ship off the line would already have them installed. He wasn't sure why they where setting up that much cold sleep space, but it would require one hell of a war to need it.
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Post by House of D'Ordinii on Feb 26, 2018 13:51:16 GMT -8
==Line of Credit SL==
<<56 PP, G11 Sector>>
Ocih was not the only one at the table. In fact he was one of a dozen senior partners from Gold Standard Consultants that was in this meeting. This was not the first meeting on the subject either. The debates & arguments had been raging for roughly a week now. The problem they were facing was the falling value of the Mandalorian Credit. The credit was still in widespread use. Most of the clans still used it, including the company's parent of Clan D'Ordinii. However, with the end of the Mandalorian Empire its relative power had been dropping sharply.
So far little progress had been made in figuring out how to stop the decline. D'Ordinii had an impressive amount of economic clout, but by itself it couldn't match the total output of the Mandalorian Empire. It was an unfortunately simple equation. Added to that the negative PR that had been caused by the last failed crusade, it was not a pretty picture. The Aliit'alor had ordered them to find a solution that would allow the clan to continue using the Mandalorian Credit, as it was a point of pride. If they failed, the clan & the companies would be reduced to using another nation's currency & subject to the fate of that nation.
Ocih was not paying much attention to the current debate going around. Everyone involved had already beaten it to death, they just didn't have the decency to let it lay. His mind was wandering back, thing of the oldest days of MandalMine, where a number of contracts had been paid for not with credits, but crates of valuable ores & stones.
-Ocih
If only we could just use jewels.
There was a long moment of silence as the comment drifted around the table. There was a lot of traded glances, plus a few whispered conversations. Ocih had the sudden feeling that he had just signed his own pink slip with that unguarded thought. Soon however, he realized that a new mania had seized the room. Dispatches & requests began to fly from the room. Within minutes, reams of information & dataspreads where covering the tables.
The next three days were spend comparing the various values & possibles for what to use. Gold & silver were possible for lower value credit coins, while the higher values would require being spun from jewels. Unfortunately too many jewels had only their aesthetic value to fall back on. If this was to truly work, they would need something that was a valuable in the war torn present as it would be in a hopefully peaceful future. In the end, nova crystal was chosen as the base. Many fringe worlds already used the refined crystals as a currency, based on weight of the crystals. Their use as a power source ensured that the price would remain stable for the foreseeable future.
In the end the design for the physical currency would be a wafer of refined nova crystal. It would be several years before D'Ordinii would be able to stock up enough nova crystal to equal out to the amount of Mandalorian credits in play. But in the end, the goal would be to back every mandalorian credit with nova crystals. A nearly permanent boost to the credit that would ensure its place as one of the strongest currencies in the galaxy.
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Cain Dracus
Member
Retired
Posts: 120 
Affiliation: The First Order
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Post by Cain Dracus on Mar 3, 2018 17:45:07 GMT -8
Unknown Space. Classified Location.
The MedStar-Class Frigate, Mercy, having barely survived the events on Froz, emerged from hyperspace at a classified location in Unknown Space. It was time to finally show the Emperor of the First Order what he had managed to accomplish with all the funding and resources the Order had given him access to. Cain Dracus, mad scientist and Sith Lord, stalked the bridge of the frigate. Having lost his fleet against the scourge now known to him as the 'Corruption', the Dracus had passed its final test. Now it was ready to be showcased and put to use. Hopefully Nicademus would see the uses his parasite had, and hopefully he would approve Cain's ideas for how to weaponize it and turn it in to a nearly unlimited supply of ground troops. With the Emperor himself having agreed to this little display, Cain took it as a good sign. Even with the slight setback that had been Csilla, Cain had managed to push forward and do what needed to be done. Now it was time to show Nicademis the future of ground warfare...
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Post by Nicademus Delvardus IV on Mar 3, 2018 18:20:30 GMT -8
Your Imperial Majesty. Our sensors have detected the arrival of the frigate, Mercy, one of Lord Dracus's vessels.
On the bridge of the Sol Invictus, Nicademus was patiently awaiting the arrival of his guest, who seemed rather eager to display a newly modified version of the Dracus plague. A Sith-created disease that he had witnessed a few times, most recent of which is the planet of Csilla, where Imperial forces were forced to quell it before it got out of hand. He had taken precautions for this, given the record of the Dracus. First Order flame troopers, heavy assault troopers, a standard corp of stormtroopers and a guard of Imperial Knights counted among the security detail. Checkpoints, electronic measures, and other precautions were taken as well... all necessary for what was to come.
The Emperor moves away from the center of the bridge towards the communication officer.
Send a transmission to Lord Dracus. Have him and his crew be permitted to land and set up for their exhibition.
Moments later...
First Order Frigate, Mercy, this is the Sol Invictus. You are permitted to come aboard, by order of His Imperial Majesty, where you will be escorted to the designated zone for where your display will be set up. All security has been alerted to your presence throughout the vessel.
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Cain Dracus
Member
Retired
Posts: 120
Affiliation: The First Order
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Post by Cain Dracus on Mar 3, 2018 18:41:58 GMT -8
The call came through. And so it would begin. Stalking over to his commanding officer, Commander Vishkin, Cain wheezed as he spoke.
"Take us in, Commander. Prepare stasis pods one through twelve and ready containment canisters one through seven. Activate all quarantine protocols and transmit the appropriate containment protocols to the bridge. There are to be no mistakes, Commander."
As Vishkin bowed and carried out his orders, Cain motioned to the head engineer.
"Once we have transferred the specimens, shut down the ship. All of it. As a precaution."
As the engineer bowed, Cain stalked onward, making his way off the frigate and towards the escorts waiting for him to the designated area. Though he displayed no outward signs due to his armor, Cain was practically quivering with anticipation. Soon he could show the Emperor what he had accomplished. Soon.
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Post by Nicademus Delvardus IV on Mar 3, 2018 21:17:10 GMT -8
Nicademus ventured down to the location where Cain and his crew were setting up the specimens for display and quite the show, as remarked by the Sith, given his pride in this personal pet project of his. As the Imperial waited in an adjacent room, he reviewed the expenses given and what had been used by the Sith. This had better be worth what it had cost. Money that could have easily gone to other projects, but Cain had been assigned to the Military Research facility on Nirauan. This ensured funds came to him nonetheless.
After awhile, the Emperor steps out with a pair of Imperial Knights and several Stormtroopers to oversee what was being done. His eyes fell on one of the Dracus specimens. These were definitely more evolved than what he remembered from the holofootage of Csilla. Cain had done plenty of work since then... but would they be as disciplined as Cain promised they would be? That question remained to be answered.
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Cain Dracus
Member
Retired
Posts: 120
Affiliation: The First Order
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Post by Cain Dracus on Mar 3, 2018 22:39:23 GMT -8
Unknown Regions. Classified Location. Sol Invictus Medical Deck
Before him, stood the self proclaimed Emperor of the First Order. Behind him, in a sealed room, were the Dracus specimens. A surgery suit, locked down and sealed off from the rest of the ship, as a precaution. To his left, a terrified prisoner from Nirauan. To his right, still contained within a stasis pod, a full evolved Dracus Combat Form. Noting the precautions, Flametroopers, Heavy Troopers and a pair of Imperial Knights, Cain knew that the Emperor was no fool. Csilla had been hushed up, in order to preserve Cain's project, but he had been reprimanded harshly for it. And he took his punishment, as it was his fault. Completely. He had lost control. Since then, he had worked on the mental conditioning between himself and the Dracus itself. And everything had managed to work out in his favor. Cain could now control the Dracus with simple thoughts. Instead of focused commands, just a thought would subdue or enrage a specimen. And their combat proficiency was nearly perfect. The test against the Corruption had revealed a few minor flaws, but in the end, the Dracus was the only reason he had managed to escape alive. At the cost of his fleet and nearly all personnel within his fleet, but he survived. A steep price to pay, but he paid it willingly. Straightening up, Cain bowed his head. Clawed hands clasped behind his back, he spoke to Nicademus, his voice raspy, wheezing and mechanical.
"Emperor Delvardus. A pleasure, as always. Thank you for taking the time to meet with me."
Turning on his heel, he walked over to the stasis pod.
"Straight to the point. You know full well what I have been doing on Nirauan. Working on a way to make a weaponized form of the Dracus parasite. It was money well spent, for I have achieved what I thought was impossible. Behold, my creation, it's elegance and brutality full realized!"
Hitting the release on the stasis pod after keying in the activation sequence, Cain turned back towards the Emperor as the canopy over the Dracus Combat Form opened. Within seconds, the horribly disfigured creature from within clambered out. Once a human, now, no longer recognizable. The victim's head hung limply at an awkward angle from the specimen's shoulders. The torso was bulbous and a pale grey. Black veins ran all over the body. Skin lesions adorned what could be seen of the victim's skin. Patches of necrotic skin dotted wherever the lesions didn't cover. The right arm was thick, nearly twice the normal size. And it was covered in large nubs of calcium deposits. The left arm was more or less normal, save for the long whip-like tendrils that were protruding from the wrist. Three of them. Several meters in length. And smack in the center of the chest was a large, sack like creature embeded, it's long, slender sensory tendrils shivering and shaking. The creature was gathering its bearings. As it moved forward, a shuffling, shambling gait, it let out a blood-curdling, ear splitting screech. But then Cain raised his left hand.
"Hush, my pet. We are among allies here."
No sooner had those words left Cain's helmet, the creature seemed to relax and stood absolutely still, save for the sensory tendrils on the chest.
"As you can see, mental control over the creature it one hundred percent guaranteed..."
Cain then demonstrated by holding his left hand out, palm facing down, and slowly lowered it from chest height to waist height. As he moved, the Combat Form crouched down. As he raised his hand back up, so did the Combat Form. And then Cain snapped his clawed fingers together. The creature tensed up, bellowed a deep, guttural growl, and charged forward. As it rushed past Cain, he snapped his fingers again. And the creature halted in its tracks and relaxed once more. Grinning beneath the helm, Cain continued on.
"The Dracus responds to me within fractions of a second. I think it, they do it..."
Cain began to pace back and forth as he explained, between the creature's stasis pod and the prisoner. The Combat Form mimicked his movements. Motioning for the creature to return to the spot outside it's pod, the Combat Form complied obediently.
"The creatures are complient, controllable and incredibly resillient. Utilizing and manipulating the parasite's hive mind mentality, I can control groups of them at a time, in unison. Or I can allow them to run loose, ensuring they do what they do best...but I can always regain control, should the need arise..."
Cain then looked directly at the Emperor. Despite the T shaped visor, he knew Nicademus was carefully weighing his words.
"Any questions before I continue, your Imperial Majesty?"
From the moment he released the Combat Form, he could practically taste the tension in the room. It was thick. And when he had snapped his fingers, he noticed the Imperial Knights tense up and watched the Stormtroopers shift uncomfortably, unsure as to what was going on. Trust was a big thing here. Cain knew that and respected Nicademus' trust in him. That trust had granted him the ability to reach this high point within his research. And so long as Nicademus trusted Cain right here, right now, no harm would befall anyone on the Invictus...
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Post by Nicademus Delvardus IV on Mar 5, 2018 21:03:46 GMT -8
Nicademus did not blame the several times the Stormtroopers reacted to the presence of a Dracus specimen. From his recollection, they had certainly changed appearance wise. Cain had been hard at work on Nirauan with this project with the results visibly before him. The specimen did seem to react with acute precision and without delay to anything Dracus said and gestured. Good as groups and individuals, an ease with control and direction. The Emperor could hardly believe this but the result was right before him. He had no choice but to trust Cain. Yet there was a deep worry within him, these specimens could still run rampant surely. There could not be a 100% effectiveness.
None at all, Cain. You may continue with your tutorial and explanations.
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Cain Dracus
Member
Retired
Posts: 120
Affiliation: The First Order
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Post by Cain Dracus on Mar 19, 2018 14:30:29 GMT -8
Inclining his head as the Emperor allowed him to continue, he motioned to a container that had been brought in and placed on a pedestal off to his left. The glass container had several tubes running along its side. And the interior of the container was mired with a sickly green haze. Motioning to the container, Cain continued his demonstration.
"Behold! The Infection Form."
Motioning with his right clawed hand, Cain undid the clasp on the container telekinetically. As the container hissed while it opened, long spindly tendrils rose up out of the container. And suddenly, the Infection Form pulled itself out of the container, landing on the deck. Righting itself, the entire chamber was given their first look at the creature. At about a metre long, the yellow-grey oblong creature stood on long spindly tendrils that acted as legs, allowing the creature to skitter across the floor, walls, ceiling and whatever other surface it needed to traverse across. With no discernable facial features, at the front of the creature was a clump of feathery, sensory tendrils, that continually quivered as the creature stood perfectly still. As the infection form stood there, Cain spoke, beckoning the creature forward. The small creature skittered forwards at an alarmingly fast pace, and launched itself up onto Cain's shoulder, where it sat perfectly still.
"As you can see, I am still in full control of the creatures. The infection form, is the most basic form of the Dracus parasite. The needle-like barb hidden under the sensory tendrils is the most direct means of infection...it can transform an uninfected host within seconds, turning them into a Combat Form. Allow me to demonstrate."
Using the Force once more, Cain pulled the tarp off of the struggling prisoner strapped to a table off to his right. A pale and very malnourished looking human male. With a short, sharp whistle from Cain's helm, the infection form sprang from his shoulder, landed on the floor and skittered swiftly, over to the prisoner. What happened next was both truly remarkable and utterly horrifying at the same time. The infection form hopped up from the floor and crawled up the prisoner until it sat on his chest. And then the barb came out. The human screamed loudly for a split second before the barb pierced the skin. All screams and struggles suddenly ceased. The man's eyes closed and his head flopped to the side. His skin rapidly changed from a pale white hue to a molted grey. And then the bulbous infection form deflated itself, shrinking down to a fraction of its former size, and then it began to bury itself within the chest cavity of the human. The sound of bones snapping and cracking could then be heard as the infection truly took hold. The body jerked against the restraints and its bones were realigned and set to better suit the infection form. As this continued, Cain spoke.
"The infection form paralyzes it's host and begins overriding the host's nervous system. Once that is complete, the infection form then deflates itself and buries within the host's chest, where it begins the physical transformation of the host..."
In the time it took for Cain to explain that, the prisoner was already turned. It was laying calmly upon the table. Head hanging back at an odd angle, sensory tendrils protruding from the chest, whip-like tentacles hanging off the host's arm. All of it. This Combat Form looked practically identical to the one currently standing behind Cain.
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Gráinne Mhaol & Fiach Dubh
Member
Is mimic a bhris beal duine a shron - often a person's mouth gets their nose broke
Posts: 713
Affiliation: Oglaigh na Irandoideanne - Warriors of the Iron Fists
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Post by Gráinne Mhaol & Fiach Dubh on May 16, 2018 23:21:28 GMT -8
Passing through Unknown Space Boland wondered how the knowledge of Unknown space became known so that it might be mapped out in detail under the sharp title of Unknown Space. Heading hurting from that steam of thought he settled into driving. Unfortunately for Boland his mind would have none of that logic and posed the question - If we now are indeed at the end of what translates into Common as 'endless' how wrong were the great philosophers of science? The question far too wide for the small space between his ears to tackle Boland applied himself to piloting. The bird suddenly cooed wings flapping then fell still again
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Gráinne Mhaol & Fiach Dubh
Member
Is mimic a bhris beal duine a shron - often a person's mouth gets their nose broke
Posts: 713
Affiliation: Oglaigh na Irandoideanne - Warriors of the Iron Fists
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Post by Gráinne Mhaol & Fiach Dubh on May 17, 2018 0:30:50 GMT -8
What lies beyond the unknown? Boland still found the question engaging. Or was it mysterious? Obscure maybe? It was unexplainable how desolate the question left him. It was as if you were grasping at absolutely nothing as you slid into an endless chasm. What saved Boland was the understanding that at its root the word universe meant endless. As impossible as that was to conceptualize he liked it far better than the oft-spoken term “end of the universe.” He often wondered how exactly one got to the end of endless. He was deep in his thought as the shoe came to the abrupt end of the journey from Morrígu’s hand through the air coming to an abrupt stop as it collided with his head.
-Boland-
“What the hell was that for???”
The girl hurled an answer at him
-Morrígu-
“Pig!!!”
Before Boland could respond The Raven was upon him claws sinking into his shoulder it pecked at the left side of his skull. The girl walked over placing the nose of pistol onto his skull then grasping his right ear guided him from the seat and hurled him to the floor
-Morrígu-
“Go play with yoursel… the guns.”
She carefully settled herself into controlling the ship. The Raven landed on her shoulder, an eye sharply on Boland, now sitting toying with some hardware. His mind wandered again. They were edging on the Unknown Spaces that lie beyond the... Unknown Spaces, which we knew so how exactly they were unknown? A philosopher offered the deep statement: "the shortest distance between two points is not a straight line." Boland was uncertain if he knew what his favorite color was at that moment. Grappling with the paradoxical question of space and time the girl wasted no time even trying to figure out a question that simply surpassed her understanding. Theoretical was doing nothing for her in this very real situation. But she had ever means to test the theory.... The next step was simple really: thrust headlong beyond the Unknown Spaces, which we knew, straight into... the More Unknown or do a 360 and go back on the same path from which she had come. Or... did another possibility exist? Fairly basic and with her mind made up she steered and hit the accelerator and the ship seemingly disappears....
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Post by Ciarán Dubh & Laoch Bán Dubh on Jun 11, 2018 3:11:51 GMT -8
They freewheeled through the known, mapped, richly documented, oft spoken of - in detail - unknown regions. An voodoo like aura seemed to fill the emptiness of space. All seemed drawn down to slow motion yet still continued to fly by them. Ciarán finally spoke, desperately trying not to inadvertently steal from the thunder of a legend with cheap paraphrasing said
-Ciaran-
"Something weird in space - can't you feel it?"
Laoch merely shrugged. Ciaran voice raising
-Ciaran-
“Turn this ship around mf!”
A timely response not coming Ciarán strolled into the cockpit and laid his pistol at the nap of the pilot’s neck speaking quiet and politely
-Ciarán-
“Now I know that you dig that head of cabbage attached to your shoulders…. And for some odd reason some poor woman somewhere is attached to it too.”
A smile grew on Ciarán’s face
-Ciarán-
“I see this is a language that you can identify with….”
The ship swung around and began going back as it had come
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Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna
Member
Fag an Bealach
Posts: 202
Affiliation: Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna ~ Warriors of the Iron Fists
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Post by Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna on Jun 12, 2018 16:16:56 GMT -8
A group of Wayfarer cut through the hyperspace lane. Suddenly the lead ship explodes setting off a chain reaction. When the flame, debris and smoke clears nothing remains. Moments before the explosion a Comm. message was relayed
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Post by House of D'Ordinii on Jun 13, 2018 13:35:35 GMT -8
==Power of the Imperium SL==
<<107 PP, G11 Sector>>
The soft hums of several crystals being carefully tested by hand filled the room. After so many years spent doing so, Hemraj could pick out a bad crystal just by the difference in sound it would make. They weren't too far from Lehon here, but the system itself had been stripped completely bare in some unknown age past. Possibly by the earliest expansions of the Rakatan Empires. That didn't matter much though, as the star in the heart of the system was the real prize. Hundreds of thousands of solar collector arrays ringed the star, while thousands of factory rings churned out a constant stream of new power coils. The resources had to be shipped in of course, but the light of the star was what filled the new coils before being shipped out.
The coils came in a wide range of sizes, but all were more or less the same. Each was a crystal of glossy black, slightly cool & slick to the touch. Like they had been coated in oil that clung fiercely, despite still being wet. Each was also a triangular prism. The reason for these details was thus, the basic structure of the crystal required the center to be a super conducting loop of crystal, power goes in & gets trapped until tapped. The triangular shape was chosen because at most three taps could be placed on any particular ring in the coil. In order to make sure the coil sat as it should, corners were added so that it would not rotate & lose the connection. As for the rings inside the crystals, at smallest they were just less than a centimeter across. The largest could be the size of small vehicles. Regardless of the size, the rings were only micrometers thick. So huge numbers of the rings were stacked vertically to increase the storage capacity.
The coolness & color came from the fact that the coils where actually absorbing a fair bit of the radiant energy striking them at any given moment. Of course, it was a different story once filled. Then the crystals pulsed a soft purple & hummed continuously, depending on the amount of energy being gathered & simultaneously released by them.
Then again, it was somewhat strange to some for an entire population to rely completely on what was effectively battery power. Since most other factions used reactors in their ships, stations & worlds. The reason was fairly simple. A reactor was bulky, usually fixed & required a constant stream of raw materials to feed it. The battery, once charged could sit until needed & slot easily into whatever needed the energy. With the amounts of power being stored in a power coil, though, the result of one being destroyed would be roughly the same as a small reactor going off. But that was rare & rather difficult to pull off. It didn't hurt that cubic centimeter to cubic centimeter, Imperium power coils had hundreds of times the energy stored as traditional galactic batteries. That power density was what allowed them to even be used to power the Imperium starships. As for recharging them, it was as simple (if need be) as putting them near a camp fire or under a hot sun. Of course, there were far more efficient ways to charge them, but then again that wasn't the point.
As Hemraj listened to the coils being tested, a sour note filled the air. It was the third time such an event had happened in his career. It meant an entire batch of several million coils would have to be retested before being charged. Then the factory ring that had produced the error would get a complete check to make sure there was no systemic problem. The automated production systems were usually incredibly good at preventing errors from getting this far. Not that it prevented the need for someone to do random spot checks on the coils going out. The clan, however, had learned that it always paid to have a mind on hand just to be sure. A single flawed ring in a power coil could, under power, crack & vent its store of energy. That in turn would lead to a cascade that would vent the entire stored energy of the coil in a few frightful moments.
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