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Gamarasa

Baron of Bad News
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Oct 4, 2013
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There have been many tales of glorious warfare, of despotic slavery and of superiority complexes in this forum that I have seen.
For now, I decided to attempt another approach.
This is the story of how some Turtles, banished from their ancient homeworld, strive to return home and settle the score with the neglectful precursors that removed them in the first place...Humanity.
But I am already ahead of myself, let me begin at the moment of abandonment....

_____________________________________________________________________________________

It was warm. That he still remembered. A warm, watery darkness had surrounded him for quite some time.
He still remembered some weird two-legged rosy thing stuffing him into this darkness after capturing him, even if he did not know why.
But he didn't worry about that yet. He had more than enough time, and things were pleasant so far.
He could still bite himself out if he got bored, hungry, or both.
Around his dark abode, he heard loud noises. Probably more of those rosy things? He briefly wondered what they were planning to do with him.
An even louder noise made the others be quiet. It roared on and on, things that he did not understand. The noises from the others became cheerier, more motivated. He wondered if that was his fault.
Suddenly, his captor opened his prison and grabbed him by his shell. raising him high above it's head, it roared something more specific, something he would later learn to understand through technology not his own.
"DEATH TO THE PRESIDENT! FREEDOM TO AMERICA!" the Human roared, then he was thrown through the air, towards another Human with a ridiculous mane, whose pitiful jaws fell open as he approached. Almost as if it wanted to snap him, in a delicious twist of the usual process.

"Grand Alpha? they are waiting for you..." he heard another voice grumble next to him, and the Alpha Turtle opened it's eyes to look at his second, a fellow Snapping Turtle such as him.
He shook his mighty head and snapped at him, more out of habit than genuine hostility.
The second understood the gesture, bowed his head and made a step back while the Alpha stood up and walked slowly towards the window.
Back then, he had been naught but a tool, but now...
He opened the window and looked upon the masses of fellow ascended Snapping Turtles on the shore, looking up to their Alpha.
Now he had a planet of followers...nay, brothers. And they knew what their goal was.

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"Citizens of the Nation of Turtles!" He bellowed and raised his thick, somewhat stubby arms. The people cheered until he and his troops surrounding them called them back to order.
"WE have been waiting for this day for over a hundred years! The day we would achieve the knowledge we need.
The Day we achieve the technology we need.
The Day we can finally Start our VENGEANCE upon those that wronged us!"
Another frenetic bout of jubilation as he pointed towards the starships nearby, waiting for liftoff.
"Citizens! No...My Brethren!" He took in a deep breath of the salty air of this planet. "It is time...to end our exile from Earth! LIFT OFF, BROTHERS!" He waved at the ships, and after an endless three seconds, the infernal sound of starting Thrusters exploded over the masses as the Corvettes threw themselves into the air into the higher orbit of Turtlania.
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This was their fate...
This was their destiny...
And they would stop at nothing to eradicate the Humans.
That was his will, thought the Alpha. That was what Trumpeater, the Glorious Alpha Turtle of this decade, and all his people wanted.
A stellar Nation and Earth.

YNOyEpI.jpg

_________________________________________________________

So, any thoughts? Is this a good idea or should I scrap it immediately? Open for feedback! :)
 
I for one welcome our new Turtle overlords.

Well, if the alternative is a conglomerate of the two presidential Candidates of the US... :p
 
The Grand entrance into Space was followed by quite the astounding amount of...nothing.
As it turned out, Space was mostly empty, it seemed. Almost a year passed where the Corvettes waited in the orbit of Turtlania while another, smaller Scientist-manned ship discovered the reaches of their own solar system, followed by their immediate neighbour stars.
Indeed, an entire year passed uneventfully, until in august of that the first year after their spacegoing, they met...something.

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Of course, the Turtles had already known that there was other life out there. They came from another planet with intelligent life, after all, and they had established life on the remnants of yet another alien species.
However, when Alpha Turtle Trumpeater was contacted by the Science team to receive details, he was still surprised.
The scientist, an obviously very enthusiastic Turtle who even managed a whole sentence in Turtlish without taking a minute to breathe, described a mesmerizing type of beauty in the movements of the species he discovered. He frantically stammered and hemmed and hawed himself through a scientific explanation until even the ancient Alpha lost patience.
"So...let me get this straight, My brother." he chimed in slowly, his rumbling voice instantly silencing the much younger scientist as he remembered his place in their society. "These things...eat gas? And don't breathe? And they do not have jaws?!" Trumpeater summarized slowly what he did understand of the description.
The scientist nodded frantically, which meant three movements of the head in thirty seconds. The Alpha leaned back, resting his majestic shell on his throne.
"So...What use are they for our glorious society?" he asked the scientist, who paled a bit.

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As it turned out, there was no particular need to hunt them or defend the territory of the glorious nation from them.
That did not, however, mean that hunting the Tiyanki (The scientists demand to name them after him had been overridden by the rest of the crew unanimously) did not become a sport for the Turtlish military, especially when it was discovered that their means of eating gas could be weaponized.

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Another year passed with the scientists discovering, among other things, two other livable planets of oceanic conditions within the immediate vicinity (galactically speaking, of course) and slowly analysing the other planets around them for useful materials and energy-sources. Then, they hit two things almost simultaneously.

The first thing was contact with another type of spacefaring organic species. Thanks to these beings just casually flying through radarspace of the glorious Nation, it was easy to identify them as hostile (especially due to no scientists intervening to claim for these beings to be peaceful) and christen them "Space Amoebas" for their ridiculous look. Contact with these beings would not be established again for quite some time.
More important, however, was the discovery of other ruins of whatever beings had left the ruins the Turtles had developed on.

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The Alpha immediately called for these ruins to be left untouched for the time being and made sure the information about the discovery did not reach the masses.
In his opinion, there was no reason to give the populace any knowledge of there being any other remnants that other civilizations could have developed on, for they would immediately claim kinship and establish a friendship they could not afford yet.
That did not mean, however, that they would stop salvaging what they could from the remnants on their homeworld, of course. New technology would only serve the whole of Turtlehood, after all, and prepare them for combat against the humans that had so much more time to develop.

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Other than that, Space-discovery happened quite uneventfully. There was the occasional weird mountain, a worthwhile asteroid or one or two snow planets with curious and adorable furry creatures that were left in peace for now. The Turtle Nation staked claim to another star when they discovered the insanely rich mineral-asteroids in that system, but did not discover any semblance of life barring a few mining machines (probably from those that came before them) and crystals that apparently lived on their own (who were probably not from the same source, given the spartan look of the ruins).
Then, seven years after spacefall, they discovered another sentient species.
sentient in this case being helped by a big adjective called "barely".
These pitiful beings had barely outdone the Turtles prior to their artificial ascension, having discovered the use of hitting things together randomly to see what happens afterwards. They would stay stuck on their desert planet for at least another millenium, was the educated guess of the scientists that discovered them.
The word of the Alpha in this case was clear as well. Stay clear, let them be. If they had use for them or a moment of pity, maybe there would be a way to do to them what had be done to the Turtles.

aJ5x2jC.jpg


However, the next two years were focused on another matter entirely. All of the Ressources of the Glorious nation had to be focused on the long-term plan, and even the Grand Alpha had to step back for a while.
Finally, the day came where the grand ship was finished. A massive number of Turtles were preparing to board it under the scrutinous looks of at least a hundred scientists, a thousand soldiers and the Alpha, who waved them goodbye from his magnificient homestead in the shape of their most natural habitat, almost exactly like the colony ship itself - a titanic, spiky shell.
"Bring Glory to the new Homeland!" he bellowed, waving them away. "And even more to us here!"
The colonists nodded, then slowly crawled up the ramp towards the insides of the ship, to be cryogenically frozen within their shells until the time was right.
Which it was, not much later.
________________________________________________________________

Glaghblan was mostly just a young generation of Turtle. He had voluntered for the colonist-program because of...He did not even remember. A sense of curiosity in the far-off, similar to the feeling that caused newborn to stick the head out of their shell for the first time.
Before regretting it immediately, mostly. But that was beside the point.
He felt insanely cold, but he also noticed that the rumbling around him had stopped. He could also think again, which meant that the cryogenic sleep was over.
Slowly, even for Turtle standards, he took a peek outside of his shell, then he moved out his legs to stand up. The arms he held safely until further notice.
He stumbled towards the window of the shell-section he was seated in, while the older, more experienced and definitely more cautious turtles waited for his inevitable painful demise.
They still waited when he opened the ramp and stepped outside.
So it was that Glaghblan, an absolutely unmentionable and unnoticeable Turtle became the historic first step of a Turtle on another habitable World.
He took a deep breath in, looked over the little island they had touched down on. It looked almost exactly like home, even if the air was different, harder to breathe.
The other Turtles had finally moved towards the ramp and looked at him warily as he turned around to speak to them.
That meant that he would not see the huge tentacle that sprung up from the oceans, grabbed him and - after his immediate first reaction of biting into it - smacked him into three rocks, killing him instantly.
The other Turtles looked at each other and nodded knowingly.
Yes, just like home.

NrUODCW.jpg
 
Poor Glaghblan should have kept into his shell...
Now to see the reactions to the first developed alien civilizations.
 
It had been a decade since the beginning of their space-odyssey back towards Earth.
Many things had changed in that time, Trumpeater thought as he moved slowly through the palace shell.
The Turtles had realized that most of Space was as boring as their regular existence.
None too much had happened. all in all. And it inevitably showed up in the polls made about his popularity.
He was still almost as beloved as sliced bread (a proverb that had survived from their human oppression, even though the Turtles detested Bread for it's lack of pain when bitten), but it was waning. And he felt the weight of his hundreds of years in charge.
Of course, he hadn't been in charge of ALL Turtles throughout this time. When they had ascended, there had been minor issues regarding the establishing of society.
Mostly the fact that they were solitary animals, only meeting for breeding purposes.
Also the fact that they instantly tried to bite each other to assert dominance.
The Alpha shook his head. He always felt nostalgic when this time came up again. Unsurprising, as he had come up with the concept to solve all the territorial claims and issues of their species in a manner everyone would agree on.

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It was, once again, time to assert dominance in their society.
Some of their kin had taken the time to analyse what little they remembered of human systems, glanced from being held as pets or living in their canalisations together with rats and the occasional alligator. They had unanimously agreed that the key to politics had never been popularity, but the ability to appear better than the opponents.
That, Trumpeater thought proudly as he entered the electoral arena, had been the best advice he had ever received.

A large mass of Turtles had convened here, mostly to spectate in the inevitable contest of power that would soon follow. The Arena Battleground was filled with about two hundred other Turtles of various sizes. During their long lives, they never stopped growing, and some just turned out to be bigger and stronger than the others. Some others were smarter, more devious or cunning.
Inevitably, they had certain advantages over each other that would mean if they had to fight each other for dominance, one would come up victorious.
And that was the basis of the Turtlish Democracy.
Trumpeater looked down upon the volunteers that decided they wanted to rule for the next decade. The last five times he had participated, none had been able to even put a dent into his carapace. Naturally, he had a headstart in combat training and he was almost two feet taller than the next-biggest turtle, no thanks to being the first ascended Turtle using the machine that was the most intact.
But this time, things would be different.
He stood upon the rungs of the Arena, his arms rose up in the Air, and the incessant rumbly chatter of his people died down.
"Fellow Turtles. I, as the current Alpha, welcome you to this sixth Dominance Derby of our kin. I especially welcome all the brave Warrior Turtles below me who decided that the future of Turtledom lies in their powerful jaws." He snapped his jaws together, and the rest of the Turtles followed suit as a show of respect.
"However, before we start this battle, I have to announce that I will not participate this year."
The silence was deafening.
Especially the warrior Turtles in the arena looked shocked, then devastated. They had entered the Arena with the thought of measuring themselves against the insurmountable Alpha, the Champion of their Kin, greatest of all Turtles alive. Having that taken away upset quite some, and a disappointed rumble came from quite a number of them.
Trumpeater raised his hands in a gesture of apology. "Let it be known that this is not because I believe you to be inadequate. Indeed, it is quite the opposite. The time where I could decide our fates has passed, I believe. My life has gone for almost two centuries, and we have reached a new age. An Age for the younger Turtles to shape our fate as they see fit."
He nodded towards the Combatants respectfully, then turned towards the still eerily silent audience.
"Let it be known that I will leave our Nation in the capable hands of each and every one of you. Ensure that our Legacy reaches even the farthest stars of this galaxy, and make the Humans rue the day they abandoned us. I will be watching, whereever I am."
Whatever had left them silent was lifted from the masses of Turtles, and they cheered and roared and bellowed and snapped their jaws ecstatically as their first, their greatest Alpha turned around and left the Building again, leaving behind his absolutely startled second and a cadre of equally startled bodyguards who were unsure if they had any purpose now.
And that, as they say, was the last time Trumpeater the Majestic had been seen by any living Turtle.
Finally, as the cheers died down, the Second cleared his throat and croaked with a loud, clear voice. "COMBATANTS! The Sixth Dominance Derby for rulership of our glorious Nation...BEGINS!"
The about-one-hundred Turtles on the ground slowly turned towards each other. The Derby had strict rules placed aimed towards making this an absolutely equal fight.
The ones entering the battlegrounds would not be armed with anything that nature did not give them. There were no friends or brothers in the ring, only opponents.
A foe who submitted was defeated and had to place himself on the ground's edge, to wait for the end of the fight.
There was no established rule against fighting an opponent with multiple Turtles at once, but the populace always deemed that to be an unfair maneuver and if one won with such a maneuver, he could be sure that his opponents all remembered who he was, for their memories were quite good.
As such, the fight that broke out in the arena was nothing if not vicious. Turtles of both genders and of all sizes, shapes and ages jumped at each other, attempting to snap at the others throats to assert their dominance or push them on their backs to have an easier time doing the first.
Soon, the fight centered on four primary combatants.
The strongest was without a doubt the leader of the intergalactic mining association, Ridubbs, a truly massive Turtle who was just too big for most to even reach his neck in a meaningful way. He had eliminated almost half the other combatants single-handedly, but had been bruised quite a bit in the process. Nonetheless, the cheering masses were on his side.
The second was Weguttrim, the leader of a minor Clan of other Turtles that were certain that the Turtle in itself was superior to everything else they could possibly encounter in the galaxy, and that they had the right to do whatever they wanted as a result. While he defeated Quite the number of other combatants, nobody particularly liked him and most hoped that he would be crushed by Rudibbs in a...regrettable accident.
The third rank was occupied by Fleet Admiral Michelangelo, a former Pet Turtle that had been saved from slavery by the banishment and who had developed an ability to see visions of the heroes of ancient times, who apparently had fought Humans in a time before even the oldest Turtle remembered while wearing iconic headbands. His own, iconic orange Headband, meant to emulate his favourite ancestor, was still around his head despite the vicious fights around him.
Lastly, there was Head researcher Waddahgs, the Turtle who had discovered the Tiyanki. He had primarily come here to fight for the right to rename those beings when he was ruler and defeated the least enemies, preferring to stay out of direct combat and wait for his opportunity.
________________________________________________________________________________________

"Cowabunga!" yelled Michelangelo as he jumped upon the back of Weguttrim, unbalancing him and toppling him forward. The overwhelmed Clan leader had no time to react to the sudden attack, and neither did he get the time to stand up or dodge - as the headband-wearing religious Turtle did - when the giant foot of Ridubbs accelerated into his direction, breaking his shell and kicking him square to the edge of the ring, humiliated. The humongous miner roared victoriously at his opponent, who was at most two thirds his size.
The cocky Ancestor-worshipper just snapped his jaws condescendingly, then dodged the inevitable punch of the behemoth - right into the bite that followed from Ridubbs, who had anticipated that move already. A disgusting crack echoed through the chamber, and even the older members of the audience winced at the sound as Michelangelos shell was crushed around the arm, which was nearly bisected.
Defeated, the Leader of his own little religious sect of "True missionary neo-Turtles" retreated to the walls of the ring.
Somewhere in Ridubbs mind, he remembered seeing another Turtle left standing. He slowly turned around, looking for his last foe...when he felt a shift in balance and heard yet another crunch, but this time, it was not of his doing.
Looking down, he saw a much younger, smaller Turtle with his Jaws clamped around his Leg, which was crooked in a quite atypical way. Instinctually, he snapped at his opponent, who just loosened his bite on the Miners leg, dodged the head of the much larger Turtle, wrapped one arm around his neck and bit into the elongated flesh of his opponent, a direct threat to his life and a sign of dominance that was unmistakable.

Silence filled the room yet again as the audience began to realize that this tiny scientist-Turtle had defeated the highest-ranked combatant with but a few strikes. And then it dawned that they had another leader. One who would probably make sure that they had even more helpful technology than before.

xqvlF12.jpg



________________________________________________________________________________________

The Adrenaline was still pumping through his veins, as Waddahgs noted two hours later after he was formally stated as the head of the Nation and true Alpha. He had sighted the documents of his predecessor - which was quite the task, considering how he had stated that nothing much happened - and was ready to finally issue some orders.
First, he ordered the immediate unearthing of the ruins the former Alpha had declared taboo. They needed every bit of help for research they could get, and he could not believe that this had been kept secret from everyone.

SdcVrr9.jpg


He also immediately called for the excavation of other phenomena discovered on planets, which Trumpeater had deemed too risky. There was so much to learn for the Turtles in this Galaxy and they had so little time to do so.
Furthermore, he declared (with quite the satistfied smile) that all types of Gas Grazers should be known as Waddahgi from now on and forevermore in the Turtlish society, to the confusion of most Turtles that actually cared that such beings existed.

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Some dissidents, allegedly led by the heavily scarred slaver Weguttrim after his loss in the derby, set up a little base in the edges of Turtlish space, apparently certain that without the true glorious leader, they would not be hunted down.
They were mistaken.

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Their little rebellion would go down in history as a footnote at best.

However, what would make him yet another historical figure would not be his discovery of ultimately docile Space organisms that were to soon go extinct.
Neither would it be the extermination of dissidents.
What made him more important was that he was the Turtle politician (or equivalent thereof) to make contact with the first species of other spacefarers.

_________________________________________________________________________________________

It was a cold day on the planet Bovatir III.
Of course, it was *always* cold on Bovatir III, as was typical of a Tundra World.
Halanin the Zum could not care less about the weather of the planet he was orbiting, anyway. He had quite the important news for his lord and master, Hephanir.
His four feet raced across the polished steel of the ship he was captain of while his two hairy hands tried to bring order into his reddish mane, until he gave up. He reached the bridge and gave orders to his fellow Zum, blinking with absolute ecstasy , his tail wiggling in anticipation.
As the video- and audiofeed started, he bowed before the sole Monarch of his home nation, the Zum League.
"Oh great and majestic PrimeApe, we have established Contact with another Species of spacefaring creatures. I was merely wondering if you wished to partake in this glorious occasion, and embrace these newfound brethren into the fold of galactic society together with me, your errant subject."
The Primape with his majestic purple fur nodded solemnly. "Indeed, my dear Captain Halanin. It is quite the fortuitous occasion for us to find potential partners for trade and cultural exchange. I cannot wait to see what other glorious species reached this wonderful galaxy to share it with us. Activate the Video feed, will you?"
The Captain nodded, tapping on a multitude of buttons. Then there was another picture, transported as well to the palace of his Primape monarch.
First, there was but static. Some annoyed grunts were heard, then a bellow and something akin to a scuttling noise in slow motion.
Then, the feed went black, before it showed a roughshod background with an absolutely hideous, scaled, obese reptilian being in front of the screen.
The savage beast had not even seen fit to wear anything akin to a dress and sat there, holding something in it's thick, stubbly claw that looked like food that was already eaten once.
The Captain could not hide his disdain for a second, but then his curiosity and cheerful attitude took over. "Welcome, fellow spacefarer! It is a joy to see you in person at long last. We caught quite a number of radio signals from your general direction, even if we were unable to decrypt them. Who are-"
"Hello to you too, hairy one" came the immediate response, the grunting noises the creature made were translated instantly by the software of the Zum. "Since you're no Humans, we won't do anything against you. Stay clear, and the Glorious Turtle Nation has no need to shoot at anyone. See you around." Then the feed went black again.
There was mostly stunned silence on the ship of the Captain. Which was only broken by the PrimeApe himself, after almost a solid minute.
"What, by the gods of logic and profit, was that?"

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Heh, election by gladiatorial ordeal. A bit of clarification though - does the winner of the fight become president, or does the crowd choose the fighter they like the best (who just happens to - usually - be the winner)?
 
Heh, election by gladiatorial ordeal. A bit of clarification though - does the winner of the fight become president, or does the crowd choose the fighter they like the best (who just happens to - usually - be the winner)?

Nope, the popularity has no say in it, actually. The democratic part comes in through the fact that, effectively, anyone who is bothered enough by politics can go and try to become the leader.
Of course, it is seen as a polite thing to name honorable and strong opponents as advisors or something else important, if you have the opportunity.
In fact, that was kind of how Michelangelo got to be first admiral of the fleet. He had the guts to take on Trumpeater last time, it is said.
It didn't work out, but he tried.