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So many fungi everywhere. At least they're Blorg look-alikes. :p

Well that didn't take long to see how they'd interact with the humans. Mind control and psionics. Time to enlighten some humans.

This region of the galaxy actually enjoys some good variation. And these were almost Anti-Blorg :D.
'Enlighten' is a fairly subjective verb, don't you think? :rolleyes:

Great AAR so far. Wonderful!

Cheers!
Thanks!

Varzh II in ck2 need the possesed trait!

He might have... ;)
 
V. Disturbing News

“Weird. I see no corpses on the scan of the wreckage. Didn't we report something else?” The first Hamrax asks the other, scratching his chin scales.


“Yeah. I can remember three dead: Marzok, Xurthak and the pilot, Fular. We must've returned the bodies to the Lights before making the scan.” The second one replies.


“Might be. Urgh, not losing the bodies again!”


“Also, uh... where's the hovercar? I don't understand why they need this marvel of technology here, but it's missing. Oh right,” The Hamrax slaps himself, “we enjoyed a little trip... thing's fast, but hard to control...”


“Damn! But on the other hand – who can blame us for that? A unique occasion. I'll have to add bodies and car in...” The first sighs. “Luckily it's easy enough, and the scan is only for the protocol. Clear case of pilot's failure here.” He indicates the ship, stuck into a sand dune and not resembling anything able to reach space. “Looks worse than it is. No technical failure at all.”


“For one who apparently called himself an ace and would've wished to be in Zeta Reculi right now,” the second laughs, “crashing into the ground must have been a very difficult manoeuvre. Wouldn't have become pilot right now! Shows they took everyone in the beginning. Tuxkans would make mincemeat out of us, we'd be the laughing stock of the galaxy for ages to come.”



0nMcUp6.jpg


The other smiles back. “Good thing we're better than that and showed them a thing or two!” He shuts off the computer. “At least the wreck went down in the middle of nowhere, and besides, its concealment still works. Spending more time here to restore that, no thanks. Just let it be buried by the sand, nobody will notice anyway.” He makes a throwaway gesture.


“I was going to say that. Folks up there are already in uproar 'because of Six', whatever they mean, so nobody cares about us. Say, how about we celebrate our imminent return to civilization? I've smuggled just the right thing on board.”


“Best thing I've heard for weeks now since we were sent on this investigation.”

Both Hamraxes return to their ship, return to the crashsite with some bottles, and watch Sol appearing behind the next dune in a not so sober state. “Well, let's get out of this hole.” One says after a while, the other agreeing, throwing his bottle into the wreck, before they get to the ship and leave Earth's surface.






“Barbarians.” Fular gets up from behind the dune, ready to take the bottles out of his ship. “Took a while to arrive, and then this. If I didn't want to be dead, I'd be complaining. Guy's right where he's wrong – they hire just about everyone, not back then, but these days. I'd outmanoeuvre a Tuxkan even with her in this sad state, but don't worry, my dear. Humans' regular sleep gives me a lot of time to work with you. And it seems my actions didn't miss the spot.” He laughs.

Weeks before, Fular went through the ship, and gave Xurthak the proper flame burial. Nobody deserves to be torn from the Lights, even if he hated him. Having salvaged what he could, most of all the vehicle for his activities on the ground, he looked at the virtual map the scientists use to keep track of their subjects. Toying with the idea of great conquest for a while, he discarded it fairly quickly. Germany erupted in chaos not long ago due to inheritance. Another realm would erupt in chaos fairly soon, and Six apparently noticed it now.


xJtUkvQ.jpg





“Tell me the sensors are going crazy. Or that some young fool is playing a trick on us and thinks that hacking the Sol observation post is such a fun thing to do. Or the Tuxkan for what it matters, believing we are developing some kind of secret weapon over here. Yes, it's their fault. Damned slavers will pay soon enough, Rekaxir broke their defences for good this time.” Uvruk, chief scientist of Sector Six, punches the screen.



nRXok2i.jpg


“I'm sorry, but no.” The new sensors being Finu-made, Avvava, as Finu of the station most familiar with the technology, has checked them and presents the results. “They are working exactly as intended. No nasty code anywhere. No trace of hostile activities.”


“That's what you say. Wasn't your Executive behind the war? Tuxkans might have cracked your tech so that you don't notice.”



fFnTHiC.jpg


“There is not a chance of that happening. I'm not just specialized in sociology, like you, and I know that things don't work that way. Trust me. Sensors are working just fine.” The fungus lifts its tentacles. “Accept it, and just study it as it is. Would of course be better to get down on earth, but with the crash... terrible to have lost a ship and two sector leaders. And I kind of liked Fular too.” Avvava's tentacles drop, and her head shakes. “Replacement will take a while to arrive with the war waged though. Perhaps with some new species to bring in their experiences to complement ours. You seem to have a fairly authoritarian past.”


“Unlike you, we have always been one, and solely one organism, so there was no clear transition from group individual to individuals in groups. We had our leaders, single figures. Poor men. Great men.” Uvruk is obviously filled with pride as he pronounces these last words.


“Your famed uniting kings, and then Varzh, I've heard that countless times since I've arrived. And you might be blind because of that past, but did you realize you just re-elected Xarzet, your 'Shining Beacon', to another 40-years term? That's one third of my life if all goes well! And he already reigns for forty years! Only an authoritarian past?”



AXttYWl.jpg


The Hamrax looks down menacingly upon Avvava, his voice just as harsh. “Never criticize the Beacons. Not when you are on one of their ships. Not close to an Hamrax. Nor anywhere else.” He got closer with each sentence, now returns to his initial position. “You hear me?” That wasn't a question.


“Yes.” That wasn't an answer. “Okay, just face the conversion of Badshah Azam and that kind of purge as the facts they are, right? No need to call me again. See the consequences at the end of the war with your own eyes, if you need that.” The Finu leaves.









“Identify yourself. Who, or rather what, are you? A mammal and an arthropoid – what shall that be?” The translators buzz with activity.


“”Thanks, I'm fine, colleague'. I hoped for a kinder welcome. The visitor center was nice after all, but I guess they just propagate the usual lies. We are experts in lies, so I'm not surprised. Clatpck, new scientist from the Ztrakpor Consortium. I heard of your project here, and my interest awoken. I left my home to do research here, for the benefit of all. A rare trait among my people.”



fpB5Klm.jpg


“Right. I am sorry, but the last months have been hard. The madness in Hispania, hard to comprehend. But while the ruler remains a mystery, studying the subjects has hardly ever been more rewarding, more enlightening. I am sure you will find what you yearn for. Uvruk, I am leading this sector.” He reaches out his hand. “And who are you?” He asks, more politely this time, the mammal, who stares down, all but happy.


“I come from the same empire – sadly. We were once free from these voracious exploiters – once. I've been in the Raltek navy. They didn't shoot me down, but rather captured my vessel as I defended my home valiantly. Without thrusters, I thought it would be the end of me. But as likely every Ztrakporan would say: 'A live one with information is worth more than a dead one.' Didn't tell them anything. We still lost, but inflicted them what they hate most – a fairly substantial cost.”



2cxFsKe.jpg


“Come to the point, Allirog. We aren't all bad, and he hardly cares for your life's story.”


“Always so blunt, these Ztrakporans. You share our fascination for the unknown. Good thing there weren't any guys like these close to you.”


“There are. Or rather, were, I think I have to say now. The 'Frubralav Imperium' and the 'Royal Tuxkan Colonies' – now the 'Frubralav Galactic League' and the 'Tuxkan United Realms' respectively.” Uvruk smiles. “I reckon we can defend ourselves fairly well, even if we had some initial difficulties.”



vQgrjrc.jpg


“Anyway, I'm the new pilot. Allirog's the name. And we've got a fine vessel from Ralteka. Unarmed ships were no danger, so I'm sure the leaders were all too happy to sell them. Your Beacons apparently paid enough for it.”


“Enough is the right word. You can continue another time, perhaps when you are less depressed.” The Raltek returning to the ship, Clatpck whispers to Uvruk: “Found him roaming our great city's streets without aim. You know, it would cost more to kill him than to let him go, so my government chose the second one. I've saved him from starvation and himself. He's actually a good friend if you get to know him. So, the sector...”


“Good. Let me introduce you to our most controversial subject. Azam, formerly 'the Good', now known as 'the Cruel', 'the Impaler', 'the Devil'. Radically changed religion, culture and character from one day to the other and began to kill everyone in sight who disagreed with him. A mystery. While it let us study fairly well the effects on the population, how and why most still follow him, we need all help we can get to figure out the trigger.” The lead scientist turns less serious. “Perhaps some economical thinking might help here?”


The arthropoid's mandibles clack together fairly often. Laughter, perhaps? “I see we are going to understand each other after all.”








“Never had so much fun! I think I can understand the mad kings of the day. The spirit of conquest, as well, blessed by Vestallus! But I think I've done enough here. Repairs have also advanced smoothly over the last years. Well, that was one side of the medal – there are some others left to explore. Six's had the brutal madman. I think there still needs to be the great conqueror - and the worst ruler ever to grace that planet! - before I can look back and say that I've done what I wanted... And I think I have enough time for that. What? Oh, of course my love. I speak of you. I leave only when you are ready.” Fular embarks on the hovercar, heading for his new... 'victim'.
 
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Also interesting to see more species make their way to the observation post. Must be almost like a zoo at this point. :D
 
Also interesting to see more species make their way to the observation post. Must be almost like a zoo at this point. :D

Funny you mention that... :rolleyes:

Subscribed to this part too.

Hope you enjoy it too. :)

Also, if you have noticed, I've messed up my own Sector numbering. Muslims are Six, Byzantium is Five. I've corrected it now, should it have confused anyone. :confused:
 
VI. Headlines

“All these rare species – Ztrakporans would cry at the thought of so much potential money being open to the public once the search is complete.” Allirog enters First-Six's central room, waving around a newspaper with the image of some strange animals and a headline that reads 'Galaxy's Wonders near Everyone – Museum of Exobiology opens' in big letters, interrupting the scientists' discussion.

AyJrW6P.jpg

“Look at me. I'm not crying.” Clatpck's face doesn't move. “And you are still reading on paper? That's ancient... How did that get here anyway?”

“Why not? Remembers me of home, before your vile attack. Is it not economical enough?” Allirog says, continuing. “Right, you are an exception. And besides, I've never seen a Ztrakporan crying, so I wouldn't know what to look for. They would be able to make cash even out of the not so rare orinthi. Speaking of which, what's the museum wanting with these rodents?”

BLMEtko.jpg

Uvruk, annoyed by the irruption, now smiles. “Well, as you mention it – another good example of how the creation of the Lights perfectly fits together.”

“A breeding program?” The arthropoid cackles.

“I don't even...” Uvruk starts, startled, but then his expression relaxes. “No, not really. Tassargoids, snirans, uddlorans, tarblacs... all predators, and we didn't bring their prey with us. The orinthi are strangely well-suited to feed the pride of Xod's exobiology-museum, and each one of them, despite their originally very different sorts of prey. There are less problems for zulcor and goolanthas, but the predators would have been hard to keep alive if not for that discovery.
b8sXP4i.jpg
All the same in the end – just as we and our observation subjects.”

Allirog continues, seemingly lost in his thoughts of another world. “A pure place, all peacefully living together...”

“I can assure you that the specimens hardly live together peacefully, at least not the orinthi”, Clatpck's mandibles clack together again. “Neither do the humans, if that's what you mean.”

The mammal slowly snaps out of his dreamworld – or not? “Nor do we Raltek. Even if our history never saw grand-scale conflict, our small territories finally uniting in the great democratic assembly, Ztrakpor ended all our illusions. I've since learned of the past of our conquerors, the Hamrax, Frubralav and Tuxkan, and know that theirs was no better. The Finu were fairly similar to us though. Perhaps... Ziamon Prime lives up to it...”

At the mention of Ziamon Prime, Avvava, just passing through Six to reach Five and inform herself about the progress of the Byzantine restoration, advancing fairly rapidly lately, stops, listening.



Uvruk ignores him, returning to the matters at hand. “Where were we? That split of Six into First and Second really caused a lot more trouble than it prevented. But say what you want, Jews and Muslims are not as comparable, and it seems as if Azam's changes will stay. Now the next war opposing Hispania and Arabia.”

“I've been digging some more into the Azam case, analysing all kind of data from the fateful day, and I've finally found something after looking the umpteenth time.” He plays his discovery on the screen. Azam's palace appears under a wide blue sky. “Look closely... there! Seen it?”

“No. Nothing.”

“We might be able to react to more images per second then. Once more, and I will stop the image at the fateful moment... Here!” Clatpck says, enthusiastic.

“Did you use some blomiwendr to 'enhance' your abilities? There's nothing to see here!” Uvruk slowly loses his patience, menacingly looking at the Ztrakporan. “By Mindara, if you are playing some trick on me, it will be your last here.”

Clatpck nervously tries to hold back his excitement, and the threat forces him to “Cut it short? Sure. Well, you see that you see nothing.” Before the Hamrax can react and possibly leave him to float around in space, he continues. “See nothing. I'll play the sensor data next to it, and – there! An anomaly!” The curve of the new diagram, put in comparison to the data of the previous and next days, has a small, but noticeable difference around nine in the morning.

“And what does that anomaly mean?” Uvruk's tone is less aggressive, and he seems genuinely intrigued.

“I've spoken to Avvava for the sensor data, and well... The Finu have no idea. It is their device, and the only explanation they could give was that a satellite passed that point in the crucial moment. Orbit has been clear though. So it remains a mystery. But at least we have a small lead now.”




“Ziamon Prime?”Avvava asks Allirog, who jumps up, not expecting anyone to notice him, even less from behind. “I've only heard good things so far from there.”

“Me too. Page ten”, he raises his newspaper, “features an interesting article. But you've been around a bit longer than me, is it true that Goxesh...”

“Sadly yes. Our long-lived friends increase their number fairly slowly. And when faced with 'the Invasion of the Shrooms', as the local governor put it – before he was replaced by the Beacons – , it was quickly too much. They've either returned to Xod, slowly suffering under overpopulation – one of the causes of the small energy crisis – or gone to settle on Chlacht. A sad thing, that – a planet under the government of the Seekers of the Thousand Lights, but with not a single Hamrax living there any longer.”

wHeTcqB.jpg

“So it is true.” Allirog lowers his newspaper in resignation.

“Doesn't feature in the xeno-papers, does it? Hamraxes are blind in their obedience to their Beacons. But I'm fairly confident Ziamon Prime won't end that way.”

“What would be different there? As you see, I don't know the entire truth. You neither, I'd guess.”

“Firstly, the terrain is less hostile... In some way. There were a lot more sinkholes on Goxesh. Secondly, there's the new 'visitor' centre that may help reconcile the species. Thirdly, there is no single overwhelming one present, as with us Finus on Goxesh. And finally – there's nowhere to go to.” Avvava's tentacles joyously lift. “The individual sometimes has to face the fact that he has no choice.”

wnOIEqI.jpg

“May the Lights hear you. And don't sell the ship from Cursa to the Ztrakporans. If only half of what is written here is true, that vessel would be worth a fortune with its advanced tech.”

“I'm not a Hamrax. But they will certainly be pleased that you follow their religion. As for this frigate, I'm fairly sure that even with the new destroyers, admiral Rekazir will want to keep his new flagship.”

OVhQfAw.jpg

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“After losing my home, what else can I do? The Lights seem to have planned it all. Even that ancient ship. The species. My support of their, your, research.” Something vibrates. “Oh, I have to go. Emperor of Byzantium is dead.” Full of melancholy, Allirog slowly walks towards his ship.
 
Will there be any humans at this zoo? Perhaps some formerly possessed ones. :D

You've certainly gotten quite a multi-species empire in the works there.
 
Will there be any humans at this zoo? Perhaps some formerly possessed ones. :D

You've certainly gotten quite a multi-species empire in the works there.

As soon as humans could be useful on the observation post, it will be useless and I'll switch to them. ;) So I think not.

Lights shine on all. (And most species around like arid planets as much as the Hamrax :rolleyes:.)

________________________________________________

VII. Sand

“Are you sure we are right here?” Zidlaxi, general of the Hamrax armed forces, stared at the dunes that went on until the horizon.

“Affirmative, Sir. Readings came from here.” One of his soldiers answers, carrying some device.

“The Finu just don't know what to look for. That is what you said. I hope for your sake that you aren't wrong.” The general addresses another Hamrax, one who excitedly looks at the soldier's device.

“They haven't developed any device to be shielded from sight, as they don't have sight in the same sense as we do. But in our latest technology exchange, my team could handle the sensors that are in use for the observation post.”

j94xk1G.jpg

“And you 'solved' their 'great mystery' – the conversion of a wise ruler to some psychopath – , which is why I am here now. Zeraxim, the navy will ask questions if the deflectors aren't ready when they should be. And I don't want to answer that we wasted some time on that planet nobody cares for save those on their post and a few Beacons of Mindara.” The general impatiently kicks the sand at his feet. “My questions won't be better for you either.”

fYMLiDH.jpg

“You never know when you make your breakthrough. You can't tell how long a new project takes; we can only estimate. Four years can be exceptionally reduced to one month. And my team is still working on it – anyway, it is not my speciality.” Zeraxim pauses, then raises his hands in excitement. “But when you have made a discovery, like now, then the way is clear!”

“Not here, apparently. It is good we let them in the dark. It seems more and more like a theory to me. You should stay in your lab, professor. Men...” Zidlaxi is interrupted before issuing his order.

“Sir! The sensor reports activity!” The dune in front of them trembles.

“Ready the interruptors! In position! Fire! Don't let him get away!” The rays of the interruptors hit the trembling dune, and a part of the sand turns metallic, takes the form of a Mk.1 ship's front. “Weapons ready! Don't let him get away if he tries to!”



Fular curses. The shock that went through the ship deactivated the cloak, and a group of Hamrax stands on the next dune, determined to stop him, their commander confidently standing on top. Just as he is about to leave, they find him. Too late now! Fular moves his hand back to the commands. He might just... convince them to get away and forget that encounter. But wait – weapons? None of the post has any. Who are these? As he is about to accelerate, a hardened soldier's voice pops up in his head.
“Hold it right there. No games, or you will be shot down without hesitation.”
Fular shuts down the engine. So close!



“He's coming out of the ship. Take care, he might be dangerous.”

“Isn't this why we are here, professor? Potential.” The general turns to the pilot. “All elite troops with psionic training. Don't even try, it won't work. All it might do is provoke a reaction.”

At the mention of elite troops, Fular somehow relaxes, abandoning his plan. He better doesn't try, has never tried it before with other psionics, while army certainly has. “When did I get so important? I feel honoured.” He moves towards the men, unarmed as always, and some of them rush over to hold him tight. Then he recognizes the general. “General Zidlaxi? Since when do some little power shifts on earth threaten the Beacons' reign?”

Zeraxim answers, relief and happiness emanating from him. “Then I've been right. You are responsible.”

“Army's helping the blokes up there now? Damn, we do need a good war.” Fular jokes at the sight of the scientist.

Zeraxim clearly doesn't think it is funny. “Some respect. I've been leading our physics research since we reached the stars! It is I who developed the algorithm that made our warp engines possible! A xeno-sociologist...” Vexed, he turns away.

“We are ready for it. But we can always improve.” The general's face doesn't move. “This is why I'm here.”

“What for? Ten's subjects declared war on their 'gods'?” Fular laughs.

“I'm not here for jokes, and neither are you. You have a lot of answers to give.”

Fular looks at the ground for a moment, assembling his thoughts, before bursting out with the answers he expects he has to give. “Why deny it when my fate is clearly sealed? Yes, I caused the collision of the asteroid and Ten. I influenced the post. I did crash voluntarily. Sure, I wanted there to be victims. And I fooled the crash investigators, though that wasn't hard to do. Anything else you want to know?”

Zeraxim scribbles something on his notebook, 'faster and with the effective personal touch', as he always says. “Interesting.”

The general doesn't move. “That's not why we are here. I care only for the army, prepare it for an eventual conflict. The Pithor are rattling sabres against the Finu, a rivalry that can heat up at any moment, and we have rivalled the Ik-Nur-Val bugs. War will come. And army needs to be the best it can be.”

YYmNlVV.jpg

“How does that concern me? If you are not here on behalf of the post, then let me leave.” He resists his captors now, but to no avail, they only tighten their grip.

“I won't do that, why should I? You have forfeited your freedom with that confession. I offer you an alternative.”

Fular sighs. “I will be never free, will I? May Moz err through Silaj's darkness forever! First the post, and now...” his eyes drop in resignation. “What do you offer? I'm battered enough, I'll take it.”

Zidlaxi continues as firmly as before, signalling to the men to lower their weapons. “I've heard that you always wished to return as pilot. I cannot offer you that. But your psionic training can prove extremely valuable for the army. As of now, our little psionic corps is capable of telepathy, a little mind-reading and some telekinesis. With some individual strengths, we are working on sharpening the weapon 'mind'. Your individual strength shows much promise – imagine what we can do if we can drain the will to fight of the enemy. The army needs you, Fular.” He is released by the soldiers around.

“Caught again. But for the Lights.” Suddenly, Fular jumps up, standing straight. “Sir, awaiting your orders!”

“This place here”, the general stretches out his arms, “has been good training, but only the beginning. Troops rarely go down in hospitable territory, even the land is our enemy. With the colonization of Vohaul III, we will be able to train intensive operations on desertic land. And there are rumours about dangerous wildlife. Perfect practice.”

7YdWoFA.jpg

The scientist, having written down his observations, deems the right moment come to interrupt. “Our work here is done. Time to return to Xod, general.”
 
Now who will meddle with the humans? :p

An elite psionics corp sounds awesome. Maybe Fular will return one day with even more advanced abilities.
 
So thus Fular's brand of interference ends.

Maybe. Maybe not. :rolleyes:

Now who will meddle with the humans? :p

An elite psionics corp sounds awesome. Maybe Fular will return one day with even more advanced abilities.

Someone. Or noone. :rolleyes:

Perhaps. Perhaps not. :rolleyes:

______________________________________________

VIII. Training


Military Base Vestallus-IX, desert planet Rekazer, Vohaul system

“Major, sit down.” Zidlaxi gestures to the seat in front of his table. “I take it you know why I called you.”

“My request to be reassigned as pilot, sir?” The major asks, full of hope, taking place in his seat.

“As the hundred times before, no. We both know why you are here. If you were hoping I would forget it, toss your hopes away. Neither myself nor the archives will. This task is your only redemption, the only reason you got promoted, and the reason why you will stay this for the rest of your life.” The general's subordinate shivers slightly under the merciless gaze. “You know the reason?”

Fular, still uncomfortable in his new uniform, swiftly replies again, this time dryly. “No, sir.”

“For a man who has basically reigned supreme over regional politics, you lack a lot of foresight, Fular.”

“A primitive society, years of being exposed to the researchers of Sol's post, and full access to whatever they said. As a bonus, I just acted on my whims and didn't care much for repercussions, general.”

“Disappointing.” Zidlaxi issues a mental command, and the table's surface turns into a star map of their corner of the galaxy. Psionic technology is in its infancy, but very promising. He points to different systems. “Understand now?”

Fular stands up, deeply in thoughts. After a while, he resigns and shakes his head. “Sorry, sir.”

“This is one of the reasons you aren't suited to do anything else than what your current task is. Sit down again.” The general takes his hand off the table, and the approximate borders are projected upon the map. Lines are drawn from Xitralax to Gratiil, Azha and Tuxkali, before they are replaced by a name flashing up.

“The Enlightened Pact?” Fular is puzzled.

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“Our new federation. The new Tuxkan rulers needed to be convinced with a small donation to keep their hateful subjects under check, and then our borders were secure from the Pithok. But of course, any Hamrax knows that. It is this that prompted His Brilliance Xarzet to issue his orders.”

HknLoI5.jpg

Zidlaxi zooms in on the stars that the map places over Vohaul. The space is red.
“You should at least be familiar with these.”

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“The Ik-Nur-Val, sir. Bugs with no love for anything but themselves and technology.”

“Right. The power of the Enlightened Pact will soon come to bear down on them. Though we do expect heavy resistance. I have been ordered to prepare the troops. Our psionic brigades might end up crucial. Report your progress.”

Fular shifts around in his seat, as if unconsciously trying to dodge the question. “Sir, the soldiers' training has nearly reached the end, but there is a problem.”

“You have little time left. Mindara expects the bugs to fight until the bitter end if we cannot break their spirit in time, so these special forces might be crucial in our effort. The Frubralav were in a similar mould, and Xod doesn't want a repeat. Fubra still partially resists, and the government of their new realm is shaky at best. Only our explosive bullets took the fight out of the blobs, for now. The Beacons don't want to install a military rule on any planet that might be put under our direct administration. Pray your problem isn't big.” Zidlaxi's voice echoes through Fular's head as he digests the threat.

The major thinks intensively before partially relaxing. “There's some of them – but none unsolvable.”

“I don't have all day, and neither have you.”

“First, Rekazer simply doesn't provide enough practice possibilities to hone our skills. For now, the small population is psionic-trained and therefore would resist any practice. So I don't actually now if the readings of our instruments are right, and if the men could handle live targets.”
Fular awaits a reaction, but the general's impenetrable gaze just silently tells him to move on.
“Second, arthropoids are our enemies, and we have no information about them.
Last, we have to get close to actually manage to deploy our weapon.”

“Solutions, Fular.”

He can hardly suppress a smile. “Sir, we might send the troops to Earth. It is where I perfected my own abilities. It is under constant surveillance from the observation post. We might be able to finish the training with a practical test that will also have to be carried out with stealth – should the post learn of our experiments, they would hardly be ready for combat – if they are caught from space with some sensors, ground troops won't miss them. As for arthropoids, we might get some of our Ztrakporan subjects to volunteer. I hear they do all for money.”

Zidlaxi considers the presented solutions, then nods almost imperceptibly. “I'll contact His Brilliance and Mindara. That does seem the most practicable solution, certainly better than going around and manipulating some random citizens... though Fubra could benefit from that. Major, you are dismissed. Get the special forces ready.” He knows very well that the army didn't research this possible use of psionics, but that man. Perhaps it was the environment of Sol that made him make this discovery and use it. And if it meant further victory in the name of the Lights, Zidlaxi is ready to do whatever is necessary for that.

____________________________

Time to get this back going, with a small in-between update :). You might have guessed what happened here, and so also what will be the general theme of the next human one. ;)
 
IX. Holy War

“Xitralax be thanked. The last years have been calm. No madmen, no destruction of greater scale, no inexplicable change of character.” Allirog genuinely believes what he says.

“I have to correct you. Due to dealing with the sensors and everyone calling me whenever they see something unusual since Azam, I know each change. And I have to break the illusion.” Avvava's tentacles activate a screen, and the Finu gestures towards it to attract the pilot's attention.

“See this region? The Zunists and Jews have clearly defined borders, in one empire, and they are trying to push these forward through the use of their weapons. This is eastern Europe. Missionaries from the west are at work here, and countless small realms with different faiths. Look.”

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“Times are ever-changing. Religion at the core of the conflict. The king of Poland is a Slav; attacked by the king of Bohemia, a Catholic. And his Catholic chief in open rebellion. We might see that scenario multiple times as the monotheists preach against the polytheists without clear structures. This time it ended with the status quo, but it is a bomb with a short fuse.”

“May it lead to lasting peace in the end”, the pilot manages to say, his enthusiasm a bit drained, before being interrupted.

“This is your example? Pitiful!”, Clatpck exclaims as he barges in.

“Do you really want to mess with Allirog's emotions again”, Avvava whispers to him. “Please don't. He deserves not to stay in the dark, but he was in such a good mood.”

The Ztrakporan ignores her. “Jihad!,” he shouts, “Know what that means, old friend?”

The Raltek hesitates. “I think you at Six, both First and Second, speak of it all the time, so it has to be an important word.”

“That”, his mandibles clack together, “is an understatement. The Muslims band together against a common threat, a war of a scale far bigger than anything else on that planet! They want to take back Mauretania from Azam's descendants, and are willing to drench the desert with their blood if necessary...”

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“'Take back', 'freeing'. Always the same...”, Allirog seems to drift away.

“Seven earthen years now, still no conclusion in sight! Muslims marching west to get slaughtered, Jews in a dreadful march through the desert to free Jerusalem again. But that's not all – see Rome!” He pushes away Avvava under protests to manipulate the screen, and an image of the Eternal City appears.
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“See these men? Peasants, suffering under an epidemy! The poor, like you one day, trying to drive out their religious leader, cowering behind the city's walls to keep himself safe! His cries for help ignored by the Lombards, and the sons of Ealdred Wuffing preferring to kill each other and numerous others as they squabble over his inheritance – this is politics in all its glory!”

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The pilot turns away, falling into prayer. “May Sol intervene one day. Justice. Vestallus, Xitralax have chosen – only Sol's grace can save us. Grant me the strength to see this day.”

“You've done it again! Proud of yourself?” The Finu energetically continues to protest, Clatpck now listening.

“He needs it.” Before Avvava could counter, a voice sounded through the post's transmitters.
“All personnel to the docks. Military ships incoming.”




“So, these are your instructions. All understood? Then move out!” Fular might regret that he's not piloting the ship, but at least he gets to taste the benefit of his position. Assigning missions, and now to see them unfold. And being far away from Zidlaxi, he can finally relax a bit. The other ships swarm out in direction of earth, while he already imagines hell breaking loose on the post. Instead of making the final adjustments as the ship docks, he puts on his disguise. Combined with his uniform, not even his parents would recognize him.

The docking complete, a major of the Seekers' army steps out of the vessel, to be greeted by loud murmurs and shouts. And they said he isn't disciplined. Uvruk, persuaded not to be in danger, speaks for the entire post after the initial uproar has calmed down. “Who in Silaj's name ordered you to invade Earth?”

“Calm down”, Fular's distorted voice answers, “if you think this is an invasion, then you better not see a real one. What we do is none of your business.”

“That's army for you. Rushing in without a word, then telling you to leave!” Uvruk moves forward, trying to grab the major, but two soldiers stop him. “Out with it!”

“I knew I would enjoy it.” The disguise falls. “Remember me?”

The scientists' murmurs resume. Either he has been too good, they didn't care or they aren't sure. Until Avvava steps forward. “Fular. The pilot who fatally crashed in the middle of the Sahara desert. How?”

“Official stories never tell the entire truth. Good to see you, small one.” He smiles, enjoying the forming chaos.

The speaker for the post still struggles with the soldiers holding him back. The Finu silently tries to assess the situation, others share their opinions loudly. If he didn't die in the crash – what's the secret? How did he become major? Have they seen too much and will be terminated now?

“That should be enough. You are here for a mission. Stop messing with their precious time.” A female Hamrax, suddenly standing behind Fular, tells him.

“'Precious time'. I see that the general chose the right person to be my shadowy conscience.”

“Your mission. Not your fun. Remember that it includes a field test right now.”

He sighs. “I am just not made for the rigid army. Hand me some commands and some blomiwendr any time, but that – I need my fun, or I can't work. Years I've endured that passivity, too long if you ask me.”

“I am not asking you. You have your orders.”

“You know, I'd love to ignore them now. You would have to clear out the post, and I'd have another revenge – paid with my life, but as sweet as possible. Luckily for you, I don't hate all of them.” Fular raises his eyes and concentrates, the soldiers releasing Uvruk.

He takes one more angry great step towards the major before slowing down and turning to the group, just staring at them a while, collecting his thoughts. “What are you all doing here? We might miss something important! For whatever reason you came here, get back to your observations!”

The 'shadowy conscience' is impressed. The scientists more or less hurry back to their posts, treating them like air but still avoiding to collide. She sees the few Ztrakporans, as puzzled as the others how they got here, and not noticing the soldiers either. “Part one is a success. As expected, any of Xitralax' creations react the same to psionics.”

“You can report something good to Zidlaxi then.” Fular relaxes.

“That depends. What exactly have you done?”

“For them, we are air. They haven't seen anyone arrive here since the last supplier, and have no knowledge of whatever happened. Further proof?” He punches Uvruk, who turns around accusingly, before attributing the pain in his shoulder to some nasty hallucination and deciding to take a rest. “I've always wanted to do that.”

“Walking disaster”, she hissed. “Lucky you have that talent. I still have to clear out the data from our arrival though. Men, return to base. Mission has begun, phase one a success.”

The troops return to the ship, and it soon leaves into the blackness of space.
“Take it easy, Xizalid. Down there's the mission. We just cover up eventual failures, and I decide when their training is finished.” Fular plucks some fruit from the hand of a Tuxkan as they head to the central computer. He eats it while the reptilian wonders where he dropped his snack and Xizalid accesses the computer to delete all data pointing towards an arrival of their small fleet.

When finished, she addresses Fular violently. “Listen, major. This is the army, so behave as such. And this task is of highest importance. No matter if we aren't noticed. I do, and so will my father.”

He waves the threat away with a gesture, spitting out the fruit's stone into some dark corner. “He controls all I'm doing anyway, and I doubt he cares for more than the result. And I'd say that Sferiz is my most promising man. Now to see what he manages to do with... ah, right. Þordr Drake. Certainly a challenge. And keeping the humans away from the construction site of the new base.”

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That Germany is quite terrifying, especially if it takes both France and Burgundy. :eek:

I see the Zunists are doing quite well for themselves.

Iceland sounds like the perfect place to hide out and build a base of operations. I hope we see some crazy shenanigans coming out of that small part of Europe.
 
That Germany is quite terrifying, especially if it takes both France and Burgundy. :eek:

I see the Zunists are doing quite well for themselves.

Iceland sounds like the perfect place to hide out and build a base of operations. I hope we see some crazy shenanigans coming out of that small part of Europe.
Wuffings are this world's Karlings. :D

What else was there to expect? After all, they have the truth on their side.

There is more to come from there. ;)

Methinks this Vestilander is in for some serious chats with "the gods".
I don't think there needs to be added anything more.




Oh, and I have added the Main Lights to the OP. For you, but also for myself, to know what the mentioned Light actually stands for ;).
 
X. Ik-Nur-Val

Military Base Vestallus-IX, desert planet Rekazer, Vohaul system

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“Sir”, Fular salutes as he enters Zidlaxi's office. Both the general and the major have just recently arrived on the planet again. Upon a silent movement of Zidlaxi's eyes, he takes the free seat, then tries to influence the table. A third Hamrax' presence in the room isn't explained to him, though he can clearly guess who it is he can't discern.

“Forget it, Fular. It is calibrated solely to my mind now. Technology is ever-progressing, and Xidlor is now beginning the work on the next step – entire armies with psionic training. Your report is hence fundamental.” He stretches out his hand. The major gives him a metallic object, and soon the report flashes on the table.

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“Very productive, Xidlor's team. First the discovery of how best to use pitharan dust, then how to unite our multi-species empire through some strange building I still mistake for some of that modern-art nonsense the Finu are producing. Claim that it is an expression of their inner feelings, but all I see is...” Fular stops as he notices the general's glare, soon likely capable of turning someone into stone, judging by the expansion in this scientific field.

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“All there since the last provocation, I assume?” Not expecting an answer, Im-Do, the President of the Ik-Nur-Val Commonality, appears, speaking his last words before and after the start of the war. “I made the right choice when I appointed Xizalid as your shadow. She can perfectly handle this new gear, knows its limits, abilities, and most importantly, is disciplined.”

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Fular ignores this, looking at the Hamrax remaining in the shadow. Nothing can be done towards his sometimes lacking discipline, and despite the constant reminders from the general and his daughter, he is well aware they need him and have to accept it. The image on the table changes. “Of course, sir. Though I fail to see how Rekaxir's victory in Zorf is of any relevance for my special ops.”

“No war can be understood solely by looking at one aspect of it. The impact of each individual strategy can only be seen as you look at it in its entirety. Which includes admiral Rekaxir and the fleet.”

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Fular just believes Zidlaxi takes some pleasure in mocking him. So close, even connected in the system, army and navy, yet it could just as well be in another galaxy altogether. “But surely you have seen it all before. Even more since you are now responsible for it, sir.”

The general doesn't react immediately, surely enjoying his counterpart's reaction to the fleet moving around on the great screen, with one enemy ship after the other going down under the mostly missile fire. With the war having ended and no other one soon to come, with the Pithorans likely deterred by this show of strength, the Hamrax return to their usual interpretation of time, that is that there is plenty of it. “Exactly. As new Beacon of Vestallus, I have to coordinate all armed forces, may they be in space or on the ground. And I need to run the simulation of the battle with the antimatter missiles this fleet was not yet equipped with. All crucial information, and with your past, I am wanting your opinion on it.”

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Fular grudgingly has to agree and watch the battle unfold once more, the new missiles ending it faster, as had to be expected, and says that Rekaxir knows his trade. Then the planet of Terk-Ba-Pont appears. “I remember this one, the ring-planet.” He smirks. “We had very conflicting opinions about the planet – at least the part of it that is out of the water. I found it desolate, while Sferiz tried to tell me how to recognize the true beauty of it. I think that assignment on Iceland might have left a lasting impact.”

“Then why isn't the report mentioning any of it? There is only data concerning the Finu's invasion. Only data to compare with our invasions. Explain this anomaly.” Zidlaxi's look was impenetrable.

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“Sferiz wasn't the only one with conflicting opinions, including Xizalid, so of course there is no mention, sir. Must simply be a personal matter how you view it.”

Without another word, the moon of Reld-Te-Hirk comes into view, then closer images of Zidlaxi leading the troops against the outnumbered bugs from the front line. Fular grins. Some of the opponents, even though being in tactically excellent positions, threw down their weapons on the ground, immobilizing in response to the Hamrax advance. “A little impact here. They had lesser equipment, were partly militia, and clearly already felt abandoned. Still, Dream's first battle mission was a small success. That is not to say the aftermath is inexcusable.”

“Which is why you have been promoted, sir. The only possible choice.” The same planet was on the screen, but almost devoid of Hamrax garrison. Few had stayed behind to defend the occupation, and the Ik-Nur-Val fighting spirit had triumphed, with the admiral falling for a diversion movement by their small rebuilt fleet or simply failing to assign ships to defend it. The few soldiers left behind were overrun by the Commonality's reinforcements.

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“The mistake won't be repeated. Lirg-Na-Korm – judging from the report, Dream did excellent work there. My faith has not been misplaced then.” As Zidlaxi studies the data, Fular proudly reflects on this particularly hard-fought invasion. Their fortifications may have been turned into shattered ruins, the fleet constantly bombarding any place of strategic importance, but the Ik-Nur-Val were numerous and hell-bent on defending this blue planet. In months of battles, the value of his unit really surfaced, as the Hamrax casualties were far lower and not one assault army had to be disbanded. The general himself was saved in a close call thanks to one of Dream's operatives. Sadly for Fular, it wasn't him.

Colonel Xizalid steps forward. “Sir, there were still losses in the early phase, likely due to missing training. Since the initiation week of the invasion, Dream has kept a clear casualty rate compared to a fairly great effect. And as much as I dislike it, the fallen are these who showed the least promise on Earth. We will have to keep Ruchba-II.”

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“Somehow I never doubted you were here, Xizalid.”

“To present the report, I needed both Hamrax involved, and the one with the greatest success in the field is suited best. A lot of potential. And even if Xidlor is working on a training program for entire armies with psionic abilities, your troops will be the core, the elite of this new army. Major, Dream will be run under colonel Xizalid's command from now on.” A little pride swings in Zidlaxi's voice.

“Discipline will be enforced far more rigorously, but else we will continue the training program, for it has proven most effective. We are also to augment our numbers drastically”, the colonel now addresses Fular directly, “for Dream's tasks are multiplying quickly.” He isn't surprised. The general must have something up his sleeve.

The feeling intensifies as Erimadon shines with all its power from the table. “The federation fleet project's utter failure in its first deployment shows one of its weaknesses. Ambushed while the crew was fighting over the right way to take. Different species with different pasts, and only the Finu initially shared our views of the alien, what could we expect? Dream operatives might be used to create the necessary harmony in any future missions, that is until Tuxkans, Frubralav etcetera have found their place in the Lights' world.”

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“Not to say we would have full control... sir.”

Zidlaxi ignores him as usual, before the invasion of Suet-Re-Pold replays in front of them. “It is not only to the benefit of the federation fleet, should this project be restarted as I fully expect it to. You know about the Tuxkans' mad charge on that almost fully fortified planet.”

Fular remembers. He also thinks it is none of his business, but the general apparently enjoys satisfying non-existent curiosity. Fular is completely under his control, and he makes it clear that the former pilot is not the only one. Helpless, he plays the game. Better this, serving the Lights – and Zidlaxi as a side nuisance too – and sowing the seeds of chaos at the observation post he loathes for his lost years, the punishment inflicted on him, rather than being in some dark cell, slowly fading away into nothingness. After all, the new Beacon of Vestallus is fairly similar to him in this character trait.

“I spoke to their leader. What he said was that he wished to prove the worth of the federation to his people. What he thought was different. The Tuxkan's slaver beliefs are still firmly rooted in their lives, and so he wished to prove their superiority, or to weaken his 'failed' government to restore the old order. Our timely intervention, complete with good results from your men, crossed that plan. One of Dream's tasks will be to make sure the federation won't fall apart.”

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“Control them as well. Make sure the right ones are in power, stay in power and do what we want.”

“Nothing else than what you did, what your trainees do on Earth. We Hamrax haven't come to existence under the rays of creation themselves for no reason. It is our task to ensure their order in the galaxy.” Zidlaxi then dismisses Dream's heads. The Beacons had become more than the media for the Lights recently. Xarzet had declared the Hamrax to be the chosen species of the galaxy, Xitralax' favourites, destined to administer his will. Since the discovery on Ruchba's shrine, the Hamrax held the weapon to do exactly that. And most of the Ik-Nur-Val would understand and follow now.

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