Cyberwarfare in the Void is tricky. Usually, data connections are cut during battle operations, and the distances involved in such combat make opening a connection that much more difficult. But, during certain engagements, hostile AIs may attempt to override a system to gain control over the inner workings. Usually, the first targetted system is either power or atmospheric controls. Firewalls, manual overrides, and cybersecurity specialists offer protection to these vital systems. If a hack is detected, manual control is sometimes transferred to a system's crew instead of an automated controller system.
Relays, as Endless Technology, are nearly impossible to hack by all but the most sophisticated hackers. The Plague, a pure nanite intelligence, could not even manage to corrupt the impressive failsafe and firewalls that the relays command in the two thousand years of the Plague Wars. Only three hackers claimed to have modified the systems somehow, and the changes were quickly reverted.
Noble warships are the most advanced in the galaxy. Considering your low level of technology, it is almost impossible to hack at this point. Maybe if you diverted your entire planet's production to hacking for a thousand years, you could possibly turn off their shields or shut down a secondary reactor.
This device has a variety of applications and tools: a calculator, contact book, Empyreal Network Connection, instant messaging, a banking app. Oddly, the clock is set to only show local time, with a zig-zagging snake sprite where a network connection symbol should be.
William: The armor is off. It...I regret it. I'm sorry.
You: It's alright. I'm just glad you're safe. What did that thing put you through?
[1][11]William: It put Polly's face on every abomination. When that got stale for it, it used you. Then Emma. Then dad.
William: Then, mom.
William: Then, my friends. Ex-lovers.
William: Children.
You: Gods.
William: They all screamed. They all begged me to stop—[By the Seedship].
William: I had to gut them all, or else a fucking monster would rip my face off.
William: Just killing. I think I killed a few Crusaders. Seed have mercy. I couldn't tell you. I just remember blood and fighting and drums.
William: I've let Emma know already, but I'm taking a break. I got a good Captain running things. I'm going to go back home for a while. Get my shit straight. Call me if you need me. I'll message you when I return to work. Is that acceptable?
You: Gods... take as long as you need. I'm sorry you had to go through that. Do you want the armor to be punished in some way? Should we get rid of it?
William: No. I'll talk to you later, Phebe.
Emma: I'm going to be returning to Stormmont. The council needs a firm hand. I'll see you at breakfast.
You: I need them to work on a few projects for me. Can you eat breakfast with Cephie and me?
Emma: Sure. It'll be nice to see Cephie.
Flesh:
[Arm Materials]:
SEED hull plating
'Colossi' Heart String
Fusion Reactor
Barker skin
The rest has been supplied.
You: Why do you need that?
Flesh: Your new arm.
You: Why those?
Flesh: According to my tests, Plague Material interfaces much like the prototypical Dust. A collection of nanites held together by a loose common 'Identity.' I'm going to be restructuring this material to function like a nervous system. I've managed to secure a collection of artificial muscle tissue from Murdoch's ship's Voidmarines. I will be shaping this into muscle and flesh, using a graphene and carbon fiber network to distribute your nutrient-rich blood to a special microbiota and microfauna designed to transform nutrients into controlled electrical output. The hull sections of a SEED ship are some of the best adaptive plate armors known to man. They can withstand impacts in the megaton range and rapidly restore themselves. Currently, we have four months before the total degradation of the hull fragments occurs from being unsealed. The samples will become worthless as they are broken down/scattered by natural forces.
Flesh: The fusion reactor will create a focusing array within the arm, wrist, fingers, and hands. Use the reactor to fuse hydrogen to create or restrain energy. Then release it through the array, resulting in a single high-level laser pulse/a few bursts of a medium level laser pulse/a low powered continuous beam.
Flesh: The fur is because it can be treated with a heat proofing material and stored within an internal compartment.
You: Why?
Flesh: Intimidation. Appearance. Majesty.
You: I'll work on it.
This one is a set of images, sent over a very, very secured line. The first are two cryosleep pods sitting under armed Crusader guard. One pods' menaces with organic tendrils of twisting red metal have shredded the containment unit. It is still functional, judging by the lights. The silvery metal of another is tinged with a blue to green gradient of some form of corrosion. It, too, continues to function. The faint silhouettes of a body lie within each.
The next image is a single data-cube. The script on the smooth, black surface blurs and corrects as an auto-translator helps you read the markings. 'SEED Project Genetic Data Storage.'
Isela: Currently, a hover vessel is in transit to recover these items from the Arkship, Mother Pheonix. You glance at a rough flight plan -- discovering it is roughly a two hour, for you, flight across the Outlands. To the northeast.
You: I'll be there.
You give one final stretch and one final glance to the datapad before heading out to your breakfast-y fate.
The dining hall is carved out of the same redwood as the rest of the lodge. Furs hang down from the rafters over ornate, abstract frescos that call to mind cave paintings. On one side, arches lead out to a courtyard garden, filled with mushrooms, drooping plants, and carefully maintained cypresses that one could call [bonsai]. A great table fills the center of the room. It is dressed in all manner of foods; steaming dumplings, juicy meats from fowl and fauna alike, chilled yogurts topped with fruits, and golden-grey Outlander rolls. Many Outlanders mill around, forming clumps and packs and discussing things as they eat, and your people are mixed within these groups -- but each of them stands close together. The Twins hover menacingly nearby their charges -- at their beck and call should any danger arise. Nicole, Rekhyt, and Samkrend all sit close by in one of the alcoves, murmuring as they lounge on qiviut pads.
You gather a plate of food, stacking it high. Doing so, you catch Emma's eye. She breaks away from her conversation and approaches you, stepping outside to a small freestanding structure. Rain pours down on the roof, giving you some privacy until Cephie arrives. The two of you converse in low Empyreal, to keep your conversation a secret from Outlander ears.
"Good morning, Pheonix." Emma states, picking at a roll and not meeting your gaze. "What did you want to discuss?"
"I want you to assign Geoyde and Armssmith to determine what we might need to begin safe interstellar trade." You calmly explain, and Emma gives a nod. "They are not allowed to use the network, but you can give them information that might be pertinent from it. Make the necessary redactions."
"Alright. We'll see if its possible."
"Next, I want you to assign Armssmith and Isela the task of securing more intel on the Plague, especially the scar of the Holy City and the new front. Get the pirates involved, if you have to. They seem to have high altitude crafts that could be of use in that regard."
"Anything else?" Emma states, after another nod.
"No. Thank you. Have a safe trip." And with your dismissal, Emma turns and leaves. You breathe out a sigh, releasing the tension in your shoulders as you wait for Cephie to approach you. The Crusader who's face she wears steps close, and takes a seat facing away from the arches. Her body doesn't change, but her face does, and Cephie smiles with sharp teeth from the Crusader's helmet. She picks up a dumpling and chews at it merrily, then uses a knife to stab at some meat on her plate. You return her smile and eat in comfortable silence for a time, until you decide to interrupt it to ask;
"How is it?"
"Pretty good. Food's good too." Cephie nods.
"Yeah." Quietly, you pick at your meal. "What's the best way to train my strength and speed? As an Ascended?"
"You would think the Elders would have told you that, by now, but we're basically the same as baseline. Train. Muscles get damaged. Repair themselves stronger over time to help us adapt to adverse environments. We could work out together, but I think I need to stick around Nicole for a while. Emma and one of the twins are leaving for the Holy Land, and Mellone, Nicole, and I are planning on continuing diplomacy with you."
"Yeah, stick around them for a bit. I need to take care of something." You pause, taking the silence to eat a piece of bread slathered in honey and melted butter. "Hey Ceph? Can I ask you something?"
"You just did, but you can ask another question."
[-]"What are your plans...if, and this may sound crazy, if I win against Magnus?" You ask, quietly.
Cephie doesn't speak for a while. She doesn't tense up or look upset. With a frown, she finally offers, "I'd probably have to return to the Core to continue working for his family. They may execute me for failure, but considering
my family, that would be the best outcome."
Neither of you speak until you finish your meals. Cephie leaves without goodbye. Then, you're left alone to watch the rain patter against the hot springs.
"I intend to take a flight over the Outlands today. There's a task I must attend to." You explain, bluntly, to Rekhyt and Samkrend as the two lounge comfortably upon their padding. "To the north."
Samkrend rubs his bearded chin. "And you intend to fight Ripper soon, to prove your good faith to your marriage?"
"I do. But there is something I must attend to first."
Samkrend gestures to a bodyguard, who removes a patch of multi-colored cloth from his bag and presents it to you. "The clans will not bother you on this task."
You dip your head in a nod. Samkrend returns it politely. You step into the courtyard, freeing your willpower, and on the wings of Sol you rise into the sky. You suck the hydrogen from the water on your coat and in your hair, leaving you perfectly dry as you fly over the temperate rainforest of the far eastern Outlands. You clear your mind, feeling the stress ease away as you fly through the sky. Tiring of the rain, you rise as high as you can, past the clouds, and look out over a field of grey kissed by the mid-morning sun. Reorientating yourself with the planet's magnetic field, you continue your flight to the Arkship site all the while exulting in the freedom of the moment.
The site is tucked away into a great mesa -- kept hidden by sheer cliffs and perlious falls. You set down by the Crusader Hovercrafts, stifling your wings as you stride towards a great gatehouse framed by immense 'concrete' pillars. The three Crusaders on guard duty bow their heads as you approach, and the Pirate that lounges nearby gives a bored wave. Powered by a solar generator a dull system of lights illuminates the depths of the structure. You can see perfectly, however, you feel a tinge of concern for your troops. You descend into the hangar and stop short when the hallway ends in a great catwalk.
The Arkship isn't complete, that much is true, but despite that, the state of the ship still catches you off guard. It's composite hull is still polished, gleaming a steel grey in the dull lights of the drydock. [400] meters from nose to tail, and nearly [100] meters tall. It dwarfs the massive stockpiles of food and industrial supplies beneath it with its rounded, smooth bulk. It hangs suspended from great magnetic manipulation clamps, ready to be angled towards the sky to provide a last-ditch escape to six thousand lucky individuals -- chosen by lottery to increase genetic diversity among the surviving group, with one thousand of those individuals to be Crusaders with good military records and nothing but loyalty to SEED.
The only issue is the complete and utter lack of an engine. Where one should be there is only an incomplete patchwork of tubes and nozzles. You drum your fingers on a rail until a young Crusader approaches.
After some introductions that you forget, he leads you to a wide catwalk and you enter the ship. It was designed for easy loading of passengers, and as such you find yourself in the cryopod bay. A group of Crusader stands far away from the two 'coffins' they discovered. They stand uneasy, with rifles in hand and tense, squared shoulders. They do not speak when you approach or when you step pass the clump --
Two echoes radiate out from the coffins. The air smells of blood and pepper and pineapple. The back of your throat begins to sting, and you taste something metallic. Faint whispers of rage and pain echo out. Half-formed thoughts of revenge. Of anger. You come to stand between the two coffins, and, with gentle probing of your own willpower, you note the small-scale arithmetic of the two Ascended within. The instinctual command of a corpse, you think, caused by the degradation of the cryo-pods.
The Dust is building a protective cocoon. One of iron...and one of... You consult your datapad and wince -- glad your Crusaders are clad in gasmasks,
...Chlorine[5][7]The instinctive arithmatic speeds up as you approach -- trying to protect the valuable Dust within from a threat.
1. ?
2. Visit the Samkrend Bank.
3. Gather SEED hull plating, 'Colossi' Heart String, a Fusion Reactor and a Barker skin.
You are Pheobe Gainer and Pheonix
Local Time: [1215] 1/12/2011
Personal Time: 8 months
Empyreal Time: NO NETWORK CONNECTION.
You are missing your left arm.
Laterally, across your chest is an ugly scar.
The back of your throat stings. You taste something metallic.
Your hair is a darker neon blue, speckled with gold, black and reds.
Cohesion: 90%
You are peckish
This device has a variety of applications and tools: a calculator, contact book, Empyreal Network Connection, instant messaging, a banking app. Oddly, the clock is set to only show local time, with a zig-zagging snake sprite where a network connection symbol should be.
William: The armor is off. It...I regret it. I'm sorry.
You: It's alright. I'm just glad you're safe. What did that thing put you through?
[1][11]William: It put Polly's face on every abomination. When that got stale for it, it used you. Then Emma. Then dad.
William: Then, mom.
William: Then, my friends. Ex-lovers.
William: Children.
You: Gods.
William: They all screamed. They all begged me to stop—[By the Seedship].
William: I had to gut them all, or else a fucking monster would rip my face off.
William: Just killing. I think I killed a few Crusaders. Seed have mercy. I couldn't tell you. I just remember blood and fighting and drums.
William: I've let Emma know already, but I'm taking a break. I got a good Captain running things. I'm going to go back home for a while. Get my shit straight. Call me if you need me. I'll message you when I return to work. Is that acceptable?
You: Gods... take as long as you need. I'm sorry you had to go through that. Do you want the armor to be punished in some way? Should we get rid of it?
William: No. I'll talk to you later, Phebe.
Emma: I'm going to be returning to Stormmont. The council needs a firm hand. I'll see you at breakfast.
You: I need them to work on a few projects for me. Can you eat breakfast with me and Cephie?
Emma: Sure. It'll be nice to see Cephie.
Flesh:
[Arm Materials]:
SEED hull plating
'Colossi' Heart String
Fusion Reactor
Barker skin
The rest has been supplied.
You: Why do you need that?
Flesh: Your new arm.
You: Why those?
Flesh: According to my tests, Plague Material interfaces much like the prototypical Dust. A collection of nanites held together by a loose common 'Identity.' I'm going to be restructuring this material to function like a nervous system. I've managed to secure a collection of artificial muscle tissue from Murdoch's ship's Voidmarines. I will be shaping this into muscle and flesh, using a graphene and carbon fiber network to distribute your nutrient-rich blood to a special microbiota and microfauna designed to transform nutrients into controlled electrical output. The hull sections of a SEED ship are some of the best adaptive plate armors known to man. They can withstand impacts in the megaton range and rapidly restore themselves. Currently, we have four months before the total degradation of the hull fragments occurs from being unsealed. The samples will become worthless as they are broken down/scattered by natural forces.
Flesh: The fusion reactor will create a focusing array within the arm, wrist, fingers, and hands. Use the reactor to fuse hydrogen to create or restrain energy. Then release it through the array, resulting in a single high-level laser pulse/a few bursts of a medium level laser pulse/a low powered continuous beam.
Flesh: The fur is because it can be treated with a heat proofing material and stored within an internal compartment.
You: Why?
Flesh: Intimidation. Appearance. Majesty.
You: I'll work on it.
This one is a set of images, sent over a very, very secured line. The first are two cryosleep pods sitting under armed Crusader guard. One pods' menaces with organic tendrils of twisting red metal have shredded the containment unit. It is still functional, judging by the lights. The silvery metal of another is tinged with a yellow to green gradient of some form of corrosion. It, too, continues to function. The faint silhouettes of a body lie within each.
The next image is a single data-cube. The script on the smooth, black surface blurs and corrects as an auto-translator helps you read the markings. 'SEED Project Genetic Data Storage.'
Isela: Currently, a hover vessel is in transit to recover these items from the Arkship, Mother Pheonix. You glance at a rough flight plan -- discovering it is roughly a two hour, for you, flight across the Outlands. To the northeast.
You: I'll be there.
Torso:A fitted grey shirt with long, tight sleeves.
Over Torso: A black, Crusader military greatcoat
Across Chest: Hardlight Emitter Shield (10/10)
[hidden]
[hidden]
On Waist: A blue, silk sash
On Legs: A pair of grey semi-formal, military-style pants.
On Feet: Woolen socks(hidden)
On Feet, Over [socks]: A pair of gray spacer boots[charred]
In coat pocket: 'centivu 2000' Datapad[Cracked:Pirate Security System][Stolen]
Max Willpower Linear Distance: [35 meters]
Max Willpower Diameter: [35 meters]
Sustained Powers: 2/5 (Bird of Sol's Reign:Permanant, Sol's Glamor: Permanant)
Overload: Trained
Bird of Sol's Reign: Great
Light of Sol: Novice
Conquerer's Aura: Initiated
-Voice of the Queen: Initiated
Inferno : Great
-Hydrogen Embolism: Novice, Horrifying
- Slayer's Blade : Initiated
-- Slayer's Shotgun : Initiated
- Controlled Fusion Reaction : Initiated
- Uncontrolled Fusion Reaction : Initiated
Healing Factor: Qualified
- endurance Boost: Amateur.
-Strength Boost: Initiated.
Energy Manipulation: General Novice.
- Energy Manipulation: Lightning Novice.
Matter Manipulation: Silicon:: Experienced
-Silicon Sunder: Amateur
Skill: Charisma: Apprentice
Skill: Attrition Warfare: Apprentice
Skill: Marksmanship: Proficient Cephie Lavoisier's Verbal Oath One owed Favor: Ashley 'Ashes' SolContract with the Retributionist's Valhol' Pirates, AKA the Twelve Clans of Old Skarin Grandmother(adopted): Mother Nicole Gainer
--Contactable in Person
--High Influence with Scholars, Crusaders, the Thornton Family
Ruled Nation: Pheonix's Holy Fortress-State
A dominant power on McCreary's Planet, despite its new foundation. Currently pursuing a policy of aggressive reclamation.
-Ruled by a council, headed by yourself.
-Theocratic Dictatorship
-The citizens revere you as their new God.
--Contactable in by Datapad.
Organization: The Children of SEED
Nine individuals, with the minds of automata and the bodies of men and women. Their very presence grates on your nerves.
--Contactable in person, or by radio.
Organization: The Thornton Family
--Contactable through Emma
--High Influence within Steelworks 9 Region
--Subservient to you
Organization: Thornton Warmachines
A complement of hulking Thornton soldiers turned into cybernetically augmented heavy-duty infantry. Equipped with fusion reactor based las-gun assault rifles, Inferno Shotguns, super thick armor, and technicians standing by. They are also equipped with inter and intra-squad radio communicators.
--Lead by William Thornton
Organization: The Crew of Retributionist's Valhol, the Twelve Clans of Old Skarin
A motley collection of nearly three hundred pirates, who have crashlanded in the Outlands some thousand years ago. They are a representative populist enterprise.
--Lead by Captain Murdach Valhol.
--Contactable by Empyreal Communication Relay Network
Potential Husband, Threat: Rekhyt Samkrend/Khudal Cityclan
An Outlander Prince. The third child of Khaganate Samkrend. A sharp wit and a sharper blade.
--Contactable in person
Servant, Friend?, Occasional Lover: Cephie Laviosier.
An Ascended under contract to you for the next twelve years. She manipulates carbon and carbon-based structures.
--Contactable in person, or instant message
Mercenary: Murdach Valhol
Captain of the Retributionist's Valhol.
--Contactable by Empyreal Communication Relay Network
Ally, Subservient: William Thornton
Leader of the Thornton Family of Businessmen.
--Contactable in person, or by radio.
--High influence within the Thornton Mercenaries
--High influence within The Thornton Family
--Feared within Steelworks 9 Region
Personal Scientist, Ally: Silas Thornton
--High influence within The Thornton Family
Consort, Annoying Oracle: Emma Thornton
--Contactable in person, or by radio.
--High influence within The Thornton Family
Pet, Threat: Mitch, the Barker
A bristly furred, stubby faced hellion of a canine that will possibly mutate in the future. His fur is a rusty red, mixed with brownish gray. His eyes are starting to be tinged with bright, electric blue.
-10/50 Obedience
-?/50 Affection
-5/50 Respect
Pheonix's Fortress-State (McCreary's Planet)
Theocractic Dictactorship
Capital: Fortress City of Stormmont
Population: 4*10^6
Military: One (1) Corps of Active Duty Hover Craft Deployed Crusaders (Baseline, Mark 1, Hardened){Stationed in Stormmont, Fortified}
Three (3) Corps of Active Duty Defense Militias (Baseline, Mark .5){Stationed in SEED Holy Land, Fortified}
One (1) Corps of Active Duty Hover Craft Deployed Crusaders (Baseline, Mark 1, Hardened){Stationed in SEED Holy Land, Fortified}
One (1) Corps Reserve Crusaders (Baseline, Mark 1, Underequipped){Stationed in Stormmont, Fortified}
One (1) Company of Thornton Warmachines (Baseline, Mark ~1, Hardened Veterans){Currently Fighting in Steelworks Number Nine}
Commodities of Note: Nutrient Bar Rations [Food Stuffs] (equilibrium), Hydrogen Fuel Supplies (deficit), Medical Supplies (equilibrium), Consumer Goods (deficit), Electronics (deficit), Steel (equilibrium), Bioplastics (deficit), Chemicals (surplus), Luxury goods (low deficit), Alchoholic Beverages (surplus), Slug Weapons (deficit), Beetle Products (glut)
Quality of life: Food, clean water, lighting, sanitation, universal literacy, universal healthcare, universal higher education, lack of culture, lack of luxury, religious restrictions, and lack of universal rights
Population Morale: Medium
Government Legitimacy: Moderate.
Economy: Non-existant, survival focus
Territories: SEED Holy Land
Ethnic Groups of Note: Thornton Family Group (Unified, Loyal, Criminal), Hoganson Family Group (Unified, Remnants), Sandsper Family, (Unified, Criminal, ? ? ?), Twenty Minor Families(Unified, Criminal), Western Outlanders (Remnants, ? ? ?), Eastern Outlanders (Twenty Clans, ? ? ?)
Poll
0 (0%)
Author
Topic: McCreary's Planet -- (FINISHED) (Read 258580 times)