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Post by EmperorMyric on Jul 13, 2021 14:20:38 GMT
Junduri System: Capitol Space
“Have you heard of the latest shoot out? It is getting crazy I don’t feel safe with James anymore”
“I have, a couple of blocks away over the coming vote… I don’t understand why people can’t just go about this calmly. It’s the first freedom we have had outside of the imperial regimes” the women sighed, cradling the young child she held in her arms. The sounds of children and their mothers was clear in the large room, space having been taken up mostly by a big indoor play area with holographic interaction. Most of the mothers were sat together talking by a small automated café while their children played, wooden and holographic pop up enemies of caricature AGA soldiers pretending to shoot back as the children imagined themselves as soldiers. The second mother sat feeding her new-born as they chatted, scrolling through some news on her PDA she quickly replied.
“its not even real freedom, we got occupied and now every bastard with an itch for power is out to claim it, no wonder its going to shit. I just hope we can stay safe and that the boys get home ok. Their out there fighting those demon things and for what? A nation that doesn’t even care about them” Her face showed how annoyed she was at the situation. The playground area was part of a small community centre sat at the heart of the large Junduri military base, the women were all family of soldiers, most of which were deployed against the much-feared Army of the Panopticon. Before one of the mothers could reply the doors opened, revealing a man in a uniform remarkably like the old Internal Security Services, along with two other large men in suits.
“I couldn’t agree with you more miss.” At the look and statement of the man many of the mothers instantly looked down and away, taking submissive actions which came in response to living your whole life under a repressive authoritarian nation. He came forward and took a seat.
“Who the hell are you?”
“Who I am doesn’t matter. Michelle Vakacian, you live at No.456? Block 3 right? Your husband’s name is Klark Vakacian, 76th Engineers?” The sudden burst of information had all who were present with a look of shock, not the least Michelle.
“How do you know so much?” She tightened her grip around her feeding baby.
“My dear we know plenty. And we completely agree, why should you all sacrifice your family for a state that doesn’t care? What’s the meaning of it?” He leant back. “Well luckily for you we care, we want you and your husbands to be recognised, to be seen as heroes!” One of the wives scowled.
“You’re with Antivaro aren’t you?” He smiled.
“Of course. We are the only ones who care.” She shook her head.
“I won’t vote for scum who support the old regime” The reply was snappy, and several of the others seemed to steel their resolve. The man chuckled.
“I see. That’s a real shame, you see I really do think you should vote for us. Because, Kathy Nagar, it would be a real shame if your husbands never make it back from the frontline? Believe me, we want everyone to come home as heroes. But if we don’t get the support to do such, well. Nobodies going to be coming home, not really” He pulled out a small piece of paper and tossed it onto the table.
“If you all vote for who rightfully can help your husbands, they can all come home again” With a swift movement he stood up and left. The mothers and wives looked down at the paper horrified, photocopied unconfirmed deployment orders sat ready to be signed sending each one of their husbands off to Celefra, to the Grion Battlezone, where very few came back alive.
It was vote, or see their men never come home again.
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BREAKING NEWS:
<<SOLOMANCE SYSTEM SPECIAL>>
Tonight we bring you a special report.
Ministers of the Solomance provisional government backed by the Themelio party have announced that due to several key loopholes in the coming vote identified in previous days that any and all workers must apply for additional identification paper work, as the identification issued by the AGA occupation forces is open to fraud. The spokes person for the government said the following:
“It has come to our attention that several cases of fraud have been undertaken using the AGA occupational governments issued ID and that to avoid potential widespread election fraud on Solomance new identification paperwork is being implemented. All workers must apply for the new ID and must have it on them when they go to the poll booths this coming month. We thank everyone for their patience and are excited to see the results of the first open vote in Capitol”
The move was slammed by virtually all political rivals including the Black Red & White party who released the following statement.
“This is a blatant undermining of our electoral freedoms, and a clear attack on the BRW party whose main voter base is the working class. Given the timescale of reworking the identification process nobody will have the ID available by the time of the vote, cutting our millions from rightfully voting on Capitols future. This is nothing but a blatant power grab”
Our investigations have indeed confirmed that the ID application process will take longer than is available for the upcoming vote, and when asked to address such the Solomance provisional government refused to make a comment. It is unknown if this will be overturned in time for the vote but is just one example of many given the actions of several parties to hamstring the votes by others.
This is Celefra news signing off.
Bel Thano System: Capitol Space
Oplon scratched the back of his head and pulled out the keys from his pocket, unlocking the latch to his apartment the wailing sound of sirens drifted over his sleep deprived ears as he threw his backpack onto a small chair and closed the door behind him.
Another day of hard work done. And for what?
He opened the broken fridge and pulled out some alcohol, taking a large gulp he stood silently in his tiny apartment. A single room, concrete floor, ceiling, and walls and with barely enough room for his bed. This was his life, he had suffered through the battles on Addas, he had been brought home in the prisoner exchange, being treated by the Union better than he ever had here. He had come back hoping to rebuild his life, and now here he was. Back in squalor, back watching the nation that birthed him tear itself apart.
“I fucking hate this place” He spoke aloud, taking another gulp of the cheap liquor. Finally, he stared down at the letter on the tiny table and picked it up again. He had read it several times, but now. Now he knew, he understood. He grabbed his backpack and downed the bottle, throwing it to smash on the floor.
He had never amounted to anything in life, there wasn’t anything to live for either. He would make a new statement. Make something of himself another way.
It took 5 minutes to walk down the road to the local polling station, filled with many ex-soldiers and workers who sat around drinking and laughing. Telling stories of the two wars and more. Two ex-commissars also sat at the small bar there, keeping watch on the conversations. It was ‘For their own good’ like fuck it was. It was the army all over again, vote Antivaro they said. Be heroes again.
Oplon had already been a hero. It had been a lie.
He walked in, smiling, and waving to a few known faces. He threw his back down at one of the tables before heading out the back to the toilets. Before he entered them, he took a left, going down to the utilities and maintenance room. Instinctively he did his new trade, turning all the gas valves to full and releasing all the safety catches for the buildings heating and hot water tanks. Immediately he could smell gas, this place was old and poorly maintained. Standing alone in the dark room Oplon remembered how eager he felt, standing on the parade ground with his unit, looking up at the sky and wondering what new world he was creating.
He stared up at the dark ceiling and felt that one more time as he pulled the lighter from his pocket and flicked it on.
The explosion took him instantly, and the entire building was blasted outwards.
Celefra System: Capitol Space
The sound of mortar fire was still audible even though they sat underground and away from the frontline. Despite his headphones and the sound of the news playing Caspia could hear it nonstop, it was like a nervous tick for her.
Headlines scrolled past. Shootings here, militia attacks there. The build up to this election was turning even more bloody than the 2nd Ancerious war itself. Still none of it mattered if the Army of the Panopticon broke through. Up here in the mountains of Celefra they held on, striking out and kidnapping countless people. Mind controlled nulls, women, children, and men all fought fanatically to the end, accompanied by the occasional horror of whatever they had conjured up.
Caspia had been fighting this war for 3 years now. She had fought it alongside the AGA occupation force, and now she fought it once again under the command of Capitols armed forces. She was fighting for the survival of her people.
Or was she?
“17 dead after a gunfight in Akamo erupted… 87 dead after a deliberate gas explosion in Bel Thano, 3 dead after a militia shoot out on Celefra…” The news kept coming and finally Caspia turned off the PDA. Closing her eyes, she leant back on the sandbag wall and took a deep breath. Around her, the squad was trying to relax. After being on the line for 5 days they were cycled off, R&R they called it. Caspia knew it was just time to let their situation sink into their minds a little bit more. They were underequipped anyway, and each time the enemy came they lost a few more men.
Caspia drifted in and out of consciousness as she rested before the sound of boots made her wake up. The presence of an officer in the room made her leap to her feet. Many of her squad doing the same, the others who were asleep were quickly woken up. They saluted, the officer seemed new, he wore an immaculate uniform, but it was new, it looked sleek and advanced like something from the future.
“At ease, all of you. You don’t need to salute me, you’re the ones who deserve respect. My name is Major Datmore. I am here to give you information that I think you have wanted to hear for a long time, I am doing the rounds in person to show I am genuine. We have new weapons and equipment coming for you in the next two days, latest generation. Along with a new influx of reinforcements, new tanks, new rifles, and new body armour. Its time we dealt with the enemy once and for all, and your unit along with two others on the line have been chosen to lead the way. You will be our standard bearers for what comes next” He spoke with fire, and with passion. He reminded her of Inaras old speeches.
“Why us sir?” One of them asked. He smiled.
“Because you’re the future. And once these demons have been wiped out, we will need you to help us ensure that Capitol is safe. This equipment” He gestured and two guards who had been standing outside walked in, eyes widened as new powered armour and powerful looking Tachyon rifles gave all of the soldiers a glimpse of what was being offered to them “Is courtesy of Black Red & White. We want Capitol to be a nation of the future, without the cancer that eats it away from within. Your units will be equipped in two days before you go back to the line. In return you will support us and our endeavours.” His eyes darkened.
“Any who seek to abuse our gifts however, we will know who you are. Make your choice wisely” He saluted them, and they returned the favour before leaving.
Caspia was elated at the chance to get such equipment, it even looked on par with Union gear. But she wasn’t stupid, it was a political stunt, they expected them to support BRW. But then… If this was what they were offering.
Was it so bad to back them?
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Post by EmperorMyric on Jul 13, 2021 17:33:58 GMT
Selene System: Capitol Space
“So… Who do you think will win?” The strangled cry and gurgling of a slit throat followed the question. Nabaq grunted.
“I don’t care” He replied putting the Restevian S-1 combat blade up to the man he was holdings throat. He struggled in his grip but had no chance of getting free, the modified Union power armour gave Nabaq and his squad strength enough to cave these men apart with their hands. But they didn’t, it was all about sending a message.
The command post was devastated, bullet holes and plasma scores indented virtually every inch of wall where they had gunned down the soldiers who were on rest. They had no idea they were coming, but then again, they were simple people and drunk on their own power, who the hell would shoot up Capitol soldiers on their own worlds?
The answer was a lot of people.
The man Nabaq held struggled again, the uniform of the old Commissariat clear as day. Ironic that they had chosen to bring them back as a political arm of Antivaro given the bloodstained history that the institution held, but then again how was it surprising? Antivaro wanted a way back to the old days. Nabaq truly didn’t care honestly, Antivaro, Themelio, Integral Co-operative. It didn’t matter who won, Capitol was Capitol. Their entire people were steeped in blood. It was only fitting they all paid the price.
“Aw come on, that wasn’t what I asked who you think will win?” Marcus seemed very interested; he had been asking each of their five-man unit in turn over the last two days journey. The ex Unioner was very political for one of the Four Daggers Army, always debating ideology. The rest of them were here to kill, nothing else. They wanted Capitol in flames.
Nabaq held the Commissar closely, surveying him as the mans terrified eyes moved across him.
“Please… Ill give you anything you want…” He pleaded, tears rolling down his face. Nabaqs face didn’t change or hesitate.
“The one thing I want is gone. Your people took it from me and now I will take everything from you.” With one fluid motion he activated the Takeema plasma blade and bisected the man in two. The hissing frothing halves hitting the floor a moment later. Nabaq studied the remains, searching for any hint of emotion left in him other than hate, he was so desensitised he didn’t feel anything.
“Man, you’re so grimdark, take joy in your actions dude. We are slowly ridding the galaxy of them” Marcus smiled. The men that they had killed were under the militarists of Antivaro, and while some of their leaders funded the FDA sometimes especially with old AGA occupation gear Nabaq didn’t care, their goal was eradication of all Capitol people. Only 3 days ago they had wiped out an insurgent cell of Freikorps Herakles. Now they were gutting militarists. It didn’t matter, not at heart anyway.
“I take no joy. Not after the attack on Yulunarch. I thought it was the Altereans who were in the wrong, they pulled the trigger. They wiped my people out, but in the end, it was Capitol. Capitol drove our people out, Capitol supported the EPA, Capitol invaded Mirach and started the war, and Capitol forced the hand to destroy Yulunarch. There is no joy in this world” Nabaq turned to the ex Unioner, his cybernetics clear to see and a blank dull hatred in his eyes.
“We leave now. I care not which party wins, in the end they will all need Correction”
Celefra System: Capitol Space
The parade was immaculate.
Drums, trumpets, and colourful flags lit up the dull concrete streets of the city as the march moved lock and step towards the parliament building, built on the old remains of the palace. Some cheered, some booed but the individuals marched none the less, singing songs of the struggle of man and the future of bright progress. The colours that blazed and saturated the street were the bright red, white and black uniforms beautifully kept and gear that was lovingly maintained. Anyone who was anyone knew who they were, and the repainted Nyx IFVs and more in the bright colours only reinforced their status.
They were Neosoma, the right hand of the Integral Co-operative.
Suspicious eyes darted in the crowds while others waved and sang. The demonstration was to be a difference, to show that Capitol could once again march with pride and colour and cheer along its own streets. That it didn’t have to end in violence, in backstabbing and in defeat. As drums and vehicles rolled on the sheer number of Neosoma which had come out to be part of this was astounding. The crowds only got bigger as workers and individuals abandoned workplaces and flew open their windows to watch and listen to the march as it kept on. It was of course escorted by several military patrol cars, the soldiers inside such looking quite uncomfortable and constantly scanning skylines.
The route was carefully chosen, taking them down the old massive parade avenues between the skyscrapers which had held plenty of military parades before under the old regimes. It was as much a political statement as it was one of pride as they finally reached the main avenue that led to the old palace and the new parliament building. They kept on of course, blaring with their trumpets and drums as they played old Capitol marching music and songs which honoured fallen heroes. They saluted the population as they came, getting many salutes in return.
But at last the front of the march reached the parliament gates, heavily defended by pillboxes and emplacements, all hold overs from the occupation. As one they stopped and ceased their music in a final fanfare before saluting the parliament. In one fluid motion they turned around and as one spoke out aloud.
“The Integral Co-operative promises the true future! A future of change and of prosperity. Join us today and we will once again enjoy new glories that will paint this city bright with innovation and joy!” The chorus of voices caused the crowd to erupt in cheers. Once more the marching music began as they turned the vehicles around and began to march away from the parliament.
The sneers of the militarists and more within who had crowded the windows was much apparent.
Querran System: Capitol Space
“Aim and fire!”
The sound of shots going out filled the commander’s room clearly, several holographic targets at range winked out as they were hit. The view from the window was quite excellent and gave a full overview of the surrounding training grounds. Several small ‘theatres’ could be seen all self-contained with different terrain, troops were competing against obstacle courses and conducting fire drills across all of them. In time they would be effective forces, but quite simply they didn’t have that much time.
Andreas narrowed his eyes knowing that many of those who were currently in training would likely be thrown into makeshift units and posted to towns and cities across Capitol. There they would attempt to keep the peace, and battle with the other political forces and militias which would see to overturn whatever vote outcome happened in the coming election. No matter who would win it would most likely be a bloodbath, and not only Themelio wanted them ready but the Republican guard itself wished to be ready.
It was true, they were technically under the control of the Themelio party, that was where much of their funding and aid came from. But it was not their only source of help.
“How is the training going?” Andreas turned and smiled, watching Major Sandier walk into his office. The Union military attaché was dressed in her bright blue uniform, anywhere else in Capitol it would be a guarantee of getting lynched and strung up or even worse. But here she was very much not just safe, but well respected.
“Well it seems yes, thank you. The latest armament shipment will substantially aid us in our current deployment schedules. This batch” He gestured out the window “Will be sent to Selene, I don’t think they will quite be ready but the vote is fast approaching” He moved away from the window and poured a drink, handing it to Sandier who nodded in thanks.
“They will do well, the training curriculum you have here is excellent, much better than what we saw when we first occupied you. No offense of course” Andreas grinned.
“None taken, your advice has helped immensely. We will be ready for anything thrown at us when the vote goes ahead. We have even been reporting gains against Freikorps Herakles in Duroon and Chandaar no thanks to you. Its funny we used to hate the Union so much and yet here you are. Had you been here 20 years ago I would have shot you where you stand” Sandier shrugged.
“And I you. But here we are. Circumstances are not ideal still, but I genuinely hope the assistance given and between the Republican Guard and the Union can be built on in decades to come. Your people are hardy and have endured much, it is reassuring to see them taking their own liberation into their hands”
“It was about time. The corruption has gone too far. Even if this vote goes to hell we will survive and be a bastion of what will hopefully be one day.” He grunted “Oh well let’s see how this goes, polls are all over the place and pre-election chaos is nonstop. We just have to do our part”
“You will Commander. If its any consolation the Union believes in you all and your soldiers as well as your cause. You have our backing even if things go south” Sandier looked out onto the training fields to observe the soldiers. Andreas didn’t know entirely how to respond. For his whole life the Union was the enemy, its people the direct threat to him and now here they were helping train his men to try stabilising his nation.
“I believe you”
Chandaar System: Capitol Space
The lights flickered and melded into the scene before him.
Vanches Garren gripped the knife tightly, his drug infused mind taking into the music and deep blue flashing lights as some obscene mindscape. His opponent before him poured the oils onto his ripped muscular form just as Vanches had done a moment ago, the stark white circle upon which they stood was still stained from last matches blood. Human groaning and noises of pure hedonism filled his mind as the couches and beds surrounding the entire area moved to the sound of human indulgence. Drugs, sex and more filled the senses and sharpened him.
He was the true Garren. He could never forget that.
The object that stood before him, he was an imposter, just like all of those here. In time he would outlast all of them, but for now the one in front of him would do for the focus of his rage. Drool left his mouth as he grinned, his eyes wide and strained, totally dilated in the deep blue light and flashing lights. Just as he had taken it in, the signal was given.
It wasn’t just any fight, lessers could knife fight in the gutter. He was a Garren, and they had to fight with etiquette. Vanches glided over the ground, stretching his muscles and body as he swept himself up and around, each movement was perfection in both form, function, and intent. His opponent emulated, the two twisting and moving almost to some perverse tune that seemed to mingle with the hedonistic orgy that went on around them. Vanches struck seeing an opening, his arm twisting in the flashing light and slashing across his opponents’ arm, blood splashed out, showering the closest watchers who screamed in delight. His opponent tried his best not to show pain or break the dance of death, only one would step out of the circle and Vanches had no hesitation, the being before him was inferior.
He was the true Garren.
The knives met again and again, blood dripping onto the floor as they cut and thrust into each other, each strike bringing the duel closer to the end. Vanches had 0.8% more genetic compatibility with the subhuman in front of him, and knowing its blood was leeching onto the floor where it belonged made him laugh with glee even as the agony of his wounds grated at his drug fuelled mind. Two more exceptional parries were made in uniform motion before finally the inevitable happened, his opponent slipped on the blood and broke the dance. It was a tantamount to a death sentence, to break the flow and intent and purity was to be already dead. It was over in a moment as Vanches power drove his knife into the opponent’s throat and kicked him from the circle. The still writing body landed on one of the tables and convulsed.
Cheers and whooping noises followed from those who watched and Vanches posed triumphantly in his victory, it was the only outcome he expected. As his harem attended to his wounds and gave him nourishment his victory meant two things.
One he was clearly the true Garren.
And the second, was that he was now tasked with the destruction of the Themelio party headquarters, the one leader who would remind the lessers that Herakles Garrens legacy still very much lived on in the hearts of his children.
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Post by EmperorMyric on Jul 16, 2021 12:04:32 GMT
RONOR-77 Kröm Celefra System Republic of Capitol
For the first time since they had been flown into what was left of the RONOR project, the men and women of the Salvage Battalion were given a day off work. Officially it was because the unit was holding early voting as work had been scheduled for election day. In practice, like good loyal militarists, the Brigade had scheduled leave to provide as little service as possible to the CNS Undine, a fleet tender that was being transferred from Standard-Bearer Bel Thano to Standard-Bearer Celefra and had docked to refuel.
At Diogenes’ age, a military man was supposed to be lending his expertise to younger officers, leading men in the field or having a desk job. But all the officers hated him, so the sewers were his battlefield and a jackhammer was his gun. Day in and day out, chiseling away at the frozen piles of human waste and disinfectant that blocked the waterways of the abandoned habitat colony. A miserable and thankless task made infinitely worse a few months ago when a passing merchant ship accidentally brought an infestation of Lumpenkorona to RONOR-77’s sewers. Diogenes’ comrades had breathed a sigh of relief, which had turned into blissfull joy when they had come out of the sewers and found warm food and bottles of liquor waiting for them once they’d cleaned up. Diogenes and his men waited patiently for their turn to enjoy these spoils as the Battalion was called in, man by man.
“Diogenes Aristarkis, 17th team.” His name was called once he waited for his turn. The battalion commander waited in a large mess tent, dressed in civilian clothes like the rest of the soldiers. The only ones in uniform were a group of disheveled MPs who were distributing the food and liquor to many happy-looking soldiers.
“Present.” Diogenes did his best to stand at attention despites the ravages of old age and the toll that working in the sewers had taken on his posture. “We are making good progress on clearing the water treatment line.”
“It can wait, the Undine won’t need it.” The commander replied. Diogenes had known him since he was a freshly-shaded recruit, in his duties as a drill instructor Diogenes had shouted a litany of obscenities as he was forged into a soldier. Now with their roles reversed, the battalion commander did not even look him in the eye. “Table 4”
At the designated table, a ballot waited for him with a row of Xs neatly inscribed in the boxes in front of the Antívaro party candidates. Next to it was a blank signature box and a pen awaited his hand next to the ballot. As soon as Diogenes picked up the pen, one of the command staff’s servants walked near him with a bag full of fresh produce and a bottle of liquor.
At first the servant simply placed the goods on the table and went on to grab another bag for the next voter but the routine was immediately broken when they noticed Diogenes had not signed his ballot.
“Private Aristarkis, you’re holding up the line.” Another officer called in between enjoying his own alcohol with a clique of young female recruits.
“My ballot has been spoiled, sir.”
With a dismissive gesture, the officer ordered another ballot to be given to Diogenes. But the officer’s indifferent aloofness was quickly replaced by indignant anger when the old private complained, yet again, that his ballot was spoiled. Getting up from his chair, he walked up to Voting Table 4 and looked over Diogenes’ shoulder.
“There is nothing wrong with the ballot. Sign.”
“I am voting for Black-Red-White, sir.” Diogenes cleared his throat. “I request a blank ballot, sir.”
“Sign the ballot, private Aristarkis.” The repeated insistence did not cause him to budge.
“I live in Bel-Thano, I suppor-” The old private’s stuttering reply was cut short by a slap to the back of the head from his younger, drunken superior.
“The Integral Cooperative is an illegal organization and as a member of the Armed Forces it is forbidden for you to support their lackeys!” The officer barked, his reddened face betraying a feeling of satisfaction at lording over the fallen former drill instructor. “Sign the fucking ballot!”
When the soldier still wouldn’t give in, the MPs that had been distributing the rewards to the rest of the troop did not waste time in assembling to deliver a quick beating, leaving him on the floor. The rest of Diogenes’ team was yanked off their tables and assembled in front of table 4, where the officer kept Diogenes on the floor with his foot. Diogenes’ own grocery bag was distributed to the rest of his team and they were all made to show their signed ballots in front of the officer one by one, walking over Diogenes’ forcibly prostrated body to do.
“Private Aristarkis is guilty of insubordination and has had his leave revoked. If any other member of the 17th work team follows his lead then the whole team will have their rations cut and will be sent off to punitive labor immediately!” The officer spoke loudly, making sure the whole battalion heard.
The battalion headquarters was not satisfied with seeing signed ballots. Before they were allowed to leave the members of the 17th team were made to prove their loyalty by spitting on, cursing and jeering at their senior member. Diogenes’ teammates came up with all sorts of additional accusations of sedition and slacking on the job, ensuring that by the time Diogenes was allowed to get back on his feet everyone knew the officers would probably send him to work in the sewers until he died. The old man tried to beg and repent during all of it but in his mind he was calm. As soon as he’d been dragged back to the dressing room, he straightened up with renewed vigor, put on his hazmat suit and grabbed his tools as fast as he could. He immediately set off to chisel away at the piles of frozen waste and no amount of pain on his aging joints and back slowed him down. For the first time in years, he felt the same way as when he’d been in the battlefields of Yulunarch, dark and cold and with everything on the line.
Only eight meters in the wastewater pipe until the airlock that connected RONOR-77 with the CNS Undine. Only six and a half hours until the ship completed its refueling and left. Diogenes Aristarkis chiseled away with his jackhammer, giving everything he had left in his body and mind for this fleeting chance to escape to a better place. And, creation willing, a better future.
Liszka City Celefra Capitol Republic
Waking up in unfamiliar places with unfamiliar people had become a common thing for Pavlina Laskili, even as she started entering the latter half of her adulthood after the war. Half-remembered glimpses of romantic adventures here and there, vague memories of the smell of damp streets and alcohol had been what the former army officer had filled her mind ever since coming home. It did a good job of keeping the wartime memories off her mind, moreso than the memory implant at least.
The bad thing about the implant is that it conserved the memories and skills that the state saw as useful. She was competent at her job working in HR for the ARPEI industrial conglomerate but she didn’t know why. Why was she good at keeping track of large inventories of people and organizing their transfers? Before the war she’d studied music, a completely unrelated affair. Those who had worked in regular army logistics during the war did not have many memories suppressed, so what exactly had she been doing during the conflict? Entire years were now nothing but a yawning void in her mind; sometimes she thought it would have been better to just take the implant off instead of letting her imagination run free to the darkest possibilities. At least then she’d know for sure.
But the implant was the only thing that stopped her from being found criminally liable for what she must have done. To face her past would not have just been an ethical endeavor, there were going to be very physical consequences for her. She’d chosen to keep the implant.
Was a trial for crimes against humanity and life in a prison so bad in retrospect? Pavlina couldn’t help but quietly weep in the shower. It was the last place in her apartment where she felt safe now. To wake up in bed with stinking drunks and bruises was one thing, but to wake up to a neatly-arranged stack of ammunition crates in the middle of her kitchen was a completely different thing.
She clutched a bottle of sleeping pills as men she did not know shuffled around her apartment, grabbing weaponry and radios from secret stashes before leaving. Pavlina was now living a double life she wasn’t even aware of. She was part of an insurgent cell she did not know the name of and went off to overnight missions which left her with nothing but exhaustion and pain every morning as well as a new void in her memory each time. The implant was compromised and it was taking control of her as it probably had for the strangers that walked into her apartment every night.
Whatever she was doing in the nights, it was escalating. At first it was just stashing materiel for the local cell, then providing support for them in increasingly involved ways. Several times already she had had to completely dispose of blood-soaked sheets when wounded insurgents had been treated on her bed. Now with a bomb vest left in a duffel bag in her closet and a map of nearby polling places on her kitchen counter, Pavlina knew that the shadow insurgency of the Army of The Panopticon had decided it was her turn to die for a cause she did not believe in.
She’d been in the shower for one hour and a half already, feeling the implant take control every time she tried to open the bottle of pills.
Bel Thano System: Capitol Space
Michelle Vakacian stepped forward and took a deep breath. The queues around her were fairly long and they were trying to get through as many people as possible. The man at the desk was an old retired army vet, she could tell just by looking at his wrinkled face, most of the administrators of this base were old vets. He looked up at her, pushing his glasses back into place he scribbled some notes on the paper in front of him, the desk just like all the others in the row a frantic mess of paper lists, all with names and details on.
“Name please?”
“Michelle Vakacian” He reply was somewhat subdued as he licked his finger and flicked through several pages before finally nodding, the man grabbed a ballot from the three piles on his table (the only neat things on it) and handed it to her. Michelle nodded in thanks and left the line, moving over to the row of polling booths which had been haphazardly set up with plasterboard and ductape. Stepping inside she took a deep breath.
This was it, this was democracy. For the first time in Capitol history the people were getting their day. Without hesitation she moved to pick up the pencil and with a smile went to put a cross in the Themelio box. But then she hesitated.
“If you all vote for who rightfully can help your husbands, they can all come home again”
The thought reverberated through her mind like an explosion. What would happen to Klark if she didn’t vote for Antivaro? Would he be sent off to die? What would happen to her and their baby? Would they hunt them down just like the old days? Surely not, Capitol had changed…
Had it? She still heard stories. She had just chosen to ignore them. With tears in her eyes and thinking of her husband coming home to their child, Michelle ticked the box for Antivaro.
Sullust System: Capitol Space
Tabor stepped up to the polling booth with no concern in his mind.
In one fluid motion he placed the ballot down and put a cross in Themelio, he did not believe any other way. He had seen great improvement in the mining techniques and technological output in Sullust ever since the AGA occupation, and Themelios promise of continuing to aid the resource mining sector with the continuation of advancement and better pay had caught him and many like him straight away.
Why the fuck would be vote for anything else? He had never believed in the old regime, and even when Inara promised change it was only one system to another of the same. But this time Tabor could smell the change in the air. He stepped out of the booth proudly, his large frame walking over to the ballot box and putting it in. He had done it.
He had voted!
It felt incredible, and he thought of how great it must feel to know you were choosing your nations destiny, how great it must feel doing this every few years.
Tabor quickly met up outside with his co-workers, the entire facility in which the ad hoc voting booth had been set up was deep underground in the mines. But they didn’t care. Laughing and joking that they had all been insane and voted for the Garrenists and Herakles supporters the miners turned away, knowing that they had done their part for the first time in their nations history in choosing its future.
Celefra City: Themelio Party HQ
It was beyond frantic.
Oldrik sat in his office with at least nine holographic tabs open at the same time, each watching a different news outlet which were reporting on the first votes in Capitol. Such a momentous occasion had attracted journalists from across the galaxy, and the news videos vyed for attention alongside the polling channels which claimed to have the best insider information. One of them even predicted Antivaro to win with 100% of the votes, some old man raving about ‘how it was still possible’. Oldrik however while trying to watch the cacophony was constantly messaging key individuals and getting updates on how things were going.
It was the big day, and no plan survived contact with the enemy.
His office was moderate in the building, the huge skyscraper contained the Themelio party headquarters, with many of the parties ‘subsects’ as they were called claiming almost their own territory within the huge structure. Oldrik was with the reformists of course, the occupation may have been an occupation but at least it had spurred change for the better. At least he hoped so. Given his status he had been one of the main organisers for events, fundraisers, speech sessions and more. It had been monumentally stressful and chaotic organising a party schedule across so many worlds, and he was one of hundreds of organisers. How other nations did this boggled his mind.
Oldriks secretary came into the room and brought him several more stacks of paper. He sighed as she did so.
“Thanks, Hannele, if this is stressful, I can’t imagine the staff right now” He began sorting through the papers before looking up and realising that Hannele was crying. She had been a new secretary in the building for a few weeks but so far, she had been a quiet but hardworking girl. Oldrik looked confused before standing up but hesitated as he did so. Gunshots were heard down the hallway.
“Oh shit… Quickly we must-“ Oldrik didn’t even get time to speak the last of his sentence before the crying women pulled out a pistol and shot him twice in the chest. She didn’t want to do it, she hated doing it. But as the automatic fire came in harder and those in the offices were mown down a large man appeared at the door dressed in ornate armour and wielding a LMG with two hands.
“Don’t stand there, get sweeping or I will gun you down where you stand. Fucking subhuman” His voice boomed. Vanches couldn’t stand weakness, and rapidly reloaded his gun before he pulled his pistol and shot the women in the head. She had done her job, barely.
Once more he went up the floors, blazing away with his firearm and cutting down anything that stood in his way. He laughed as he did so, accompanied by several of his men and a group of thrall women who he had sent to infiltrate the building weeks before. The stupid retards needed secretaries, and couldn’t resist hiring good looking women, it had been their downfall. The occasional armed individual tried to stop them, but nothing worked. Until finally one of the elevators opened and revealed armed men. Republican Guard.
“Subhuman filth!” Vanches shouted with a laugh as two of his men were quickly gunned down. The firefight was brief but furious as shots raced back and forth shattering cubicles and walls. One of his harems fell, her chest shot up as she had tried to escape. Pathetic, even now they tried to avoid death. There was no death, not for Vanches. If he died, he would be reborn through the genetics programs of the Freikorps.
He was the true Garren. And therefor it was inevitable that he would be reborn.
He laughed again as his last soldier went down before he too was hit, first in the leg and then the chest. Vanches coughed blood but didn’t recoil, this too was an art.
“Garren will always be supreme. I am supreme!” He roared, pulling the cord of his explosive vest the blast raced outwards. Killing all on the floor and ending the attack. Vanches died instantly, but his genetic legacy would always live on.
<<<<BREAKING NEWS:>>>>
OFFICIAL VOTE ANNOUNCEMENT MANDATORY WATCH FOR ALL CITIZENS!
Despite the horrific news that the Themelio party headquarters was attacked today by the disgusting forces of Freikorps Herakles we have official word on the final vote count. Given that this is such a momentous day and that many have died on their way to see it finally come to the realisation the results are as follows.
The Themelio Party: 36.2% Black, Red & White Party: 24.7% Antivaro Party: 30.3% Independents: 8.8%
That’s its folks, the final votes of our grand nation. As you can see, no one party has a majority and as such this means it is what is called a Hung Parliament. We will give it several days to see if the parties wish to make any coalitions and if not then we shall see how things go. Even so we thank each and every one of you for deciding Capitols future for the first time, and our hearts go out to those who have lost their lives to bring us this freedom over the past few months.
Glory to Capitol.
BROADCAST END
Celefra System: Capitol Space
Alikos sat in his gilded chair and sipped another mouthful from his wine glass. Crossing his fingers, he stared at the large holographic screen, the tallies of the votes clear as day. While he wasn’t surprised, he was hoping Antivaro would have done even better. Still, it was a hung parliament and that meant only one thing. A deal had been made before with Themelio and given the sudden attack they had all the most unfortunately suffered Alikos didn’t doubt that they would wish to honour it. He turned to his butler, a Carnaithian man who was for all intents and purposes definitely not an indentured worker and waved a hand.
“Make a connection to Mr. Maalik. If he is still alive that is.” The butler nodded, bringing up several holographic controls which looked very out of place in the extremely olden style library room. A big fireplace burned away to one side and Alikos took another sip from his glass.
It took a few moments, but the connection was made.
“Alikos. I had wondered how quickly it would take for you to call” Maaliks voice was less than friendly. Alikos couldn’t help but smile.
“Mr. Maalik, so I see your still alive then?”
“Yes I am. Out of office at the time of the attack. Now get on with it I know what you want”
“How fortunate. And I am very sure you do. Currently neither of us have a full majority, and Black Red and White is not exactly who we want making policy. We have an agreement, and I do believe now is the time to honour it. It is time we formed a Coalition” The words felt like honey on his tongue.
Natar: ASN Space
“Couldn’t even get through the whole fucking day without some big place getting blown up” Raxis shook his head and turned away from the news announcement.
It hadn’t taken long for a follow up announcement after the results to show that both the Themelio party and the Antivaro party were forming a coalition. The press conference showed many shaking hands and promising prosperity but Raxis knew better, much better. Those men hated each other, and any half-brained Capitol citizen would remember the entire campaign of them stabbing each other openly and posting all sorts of propaganda. He smiled to himself though, he had helped negotiate that deal between the two parties, for whatever it was worth.
No doubt it would tear them both apart and send Capitol into yet more chaos. But chaos he could deal with. Chaos was part of his plan. Natar was starting to realise its power, and if the right party could win here, then there was a chance Raxis could take his moment. It was a wild dream, but then so had the chance to usurp Herakles Garren seemed when Inara had first approached him. Maybe one day he could secure Natar, use them as a force to take back Capitol and install a new regime to ensure Inara’s legacy, likely his own legacy.
It would come in time. It was a worthy goal.
For now he looked out across the city from his windowed mansion, and thought about the mass riots here on Natar. It wouldn’t be so different.
They just needed the right direction to point their anger.
Annointed Secret Research Station: Uriel Cluster
“Would you like the see the results Miss Elena?” The voice of the servant caused the women lounging on the large silk bed to sit up and look confused.
“What results?” She asked. Picking up some assorted food from a small table and starting to eat it. The gestalt smiled.
“The Capitol election results Miss, they have just been announced” the statement made the women realise and she nodded while trying to swallow her food.
“Oh yes, yes! Put it on!” She rolled off the large bed in the centre of the beautifully maintained room and walked over to where the gestalt servant stood. Her lavish clothes and jewellery complemented her form and she looked more like an ancient Empress than what she had come here as, a prisoner. But now she was a herald, an icon of a faith. Her mother still disagreed with her playing into it, but Elena was eager to let the Annointed place her on a pedestal. It had been a long time here away from home, a long time since she had watched her other Mother, Inara, die in an execution. Elena saw the Annointed as an asset, something that could be controlled and manipulated through her faith, her mother Alaca couldn’t see it. But Elena had a plan.
“As you wish” The servant made a hand gesture and the video popped up. Elena immediately saw the vote percentages and smiled. The video showed the shaking of hands between Antivaro and Themelio as they formed a coalition government.
“Well that wont last long. Those idiots are signing away their political careers and any hope of stability. Oh well its their loss” She giggled and made a move to imitate a dance.
“Its just as mother used to say, you play the fools below you into dancing to your tune. Soon it will all fall into place and I will do what I am destined to do” Her face hardened as she stared at the political representatives.
“Take back what was mine. And finish what Mother started”
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Post by EmperorMyric on Jul 18, 2021 12:27:29 GMT
Sullust System: Capitol Space
Tabor roared and threw the large mining brick through the polling stations window.
It was quickly followed up by a fellow miner throwing in a Molotov cocktail, the shattering of it causing the inside to burst into flames. Yells and jeers followed with cries of victory when the flames caught and began to spread. All around signs of government focus were being smashed up and burnt down, smoke and heat filled the great caverns of Sullust as the rioting miners took out their rage and frustration.
Tabor had voted for a better future, one where maybe, just maybe things would improve for his children. Not only had Themelio not won a majority, but they had jumped into bed with Antivaro. What was the fucking point? They were Garrenist scum, supporters of the old regimes, and now the coalition would drag Capitol down into a pit of self-destruction. The media had been trying to spin the coalition as a good thing, but the reports of riots on countless other worlds told Tabor that everyone felt the same way. For years Antivaro and Themelio had been at each other’s throats, insulting and smearing one another and then when the moment came, they jumped into bed without a second thought.
It was betrayal, of the people and of their damn principles.
One of the polling station staff rushed out of the burning building, only to be immediately beaten down with clubs and crowbars. Once Tabor would have sympathised, but he had been a fool. Themelio was just using them, it never believed.
“Down with the Coalition Government!” Tabor roared. The statement being mirrored by those around him.
Celefra System: Capitol Space
The meeting space was lavish, a long hall which had once been a dining place in the palace and had been chosen for repurposing rather than demolition. Its engraved majesty still held true and the long exquisitely polished table which ran its length had been restored and kept for use by the parliament. The room now was full, each chair occupied by one an MP of Antivaro or Themelio, with numerous aids and staff standing behind them. Silence reigned.
While the coalition government had been formed, all was not well. Antivaro and Themelio were opposites, many in this very room had direct hatred for certain individuals sitting only across from them. It had been a struggle to even get to this point, two subsects of Themelio had outright refused to support the Coalition, but bribes, threats and the party whip had made them come around, but only just.
Tension was on a thread bare string and it could snap at any point. Finally Mr. Maalik spoke up.
“Thank you all for meeting here, as the first official meeting of the Coalition Government I welcome you all and thank you for your efforts in the support of our nation” The words which meant to be sincere and to heal, visibly did the opposite as stares and hatred flickered across the faces of many, on both sides.
“I would like to make a grand speech and try to alleviate some of our problems but as you all know Capitol is ablaze. Riots are on every street and we need something to help heal the people and bring them back together” That at least solicited some nods of agreement.
“I propose we implement an immediate bill to increase public healthcare, or workplace safety. Both were in our manifesto as promises and either one, even better for both would help alleviate our image and make the people feel better about it. It would really make us look like we are jumping in to implement and help with change, if Antivaro would vote for such it would also help our voters trust them more” One of the MPs immediately spoke up, the Antivaro lot shook their heads.
“We are on a tight budget already and you want us to throw money at impossibly large schemes straight away? It would be political suicide. I would not loose the support of my voters for a throw away fairy tale” The response quickly led to bickering and slander before Alikos raised his hand for everyone to be quiet.
“I agree with our friend here, we should push through an increase in healthcare AND workplace safety.” The comment by the head of Antivaro stunned everyone, including the Themelio bunch.
“I… I’m sorry? You agree?” Alikos smiled.
“Yes! It would be a good move to gain the people’s support. I fully back it, however I do not think it goes quite far enough. We should absolutely help the people, but we should also look to our own security. With the riots and current unrest, it is no surprise that our enemies, I need not name them, will have a field day with us. As was shown by your own headquarters, no offense of any kind intended” He gave a sincere expression, the Themelio members also nodded, some however remained suspicious.
“Given this I think we need to implement a security branch which can help monitor the situation and respond to subversive activities like those of Freikorps, AOTP and Black Red and White who we all know are likely using this situation to gain support, they would answer to the government and be able to perform all kinds of tasks”
“What your suggesting is to bring back to Commissariat… Or the ISS or Hydra. The very things that kept our people oppressed for generations” The counter made many uncomfortable, and several of the Themelio MPs began whispering each other.
“No of course not, this new agency would be under far better control and used to further our aims and stabilise the nation against our current threats-“
“That’s the same fucking argument Inara made when she justified their continued existence.” Many on the Themelio bench agreed.
“If you would just let me contu-“
“No. It was obvious from the start that Antivaro would try to worm their way back in and create an arm to control the nation. Nothing but Garrenist supporting scum” One of the Themelio MPs stood up and spat on the table. The gesture almost instantly caused over two thirds of the Themelio MPs to stand up and walk out. The Antivaro MPs immediately jeering them as they did so. Maalik sat back and sighed, wiping his head.
“Do you see the necessity of it now Mr Maalik, people like this cant be trusted” Alikos said wearily.
The remaining Themelio officials were hesitant but nodded. Maalik too sat forward.
“Yes representative Alikos I agree”
<<<BREAKING NEWS>>>
POLITICAL UPDATE SPECIAL
This just in we have received word that the Themelio party has officially broken up, following the first coalition meeting behind closed doors it appears that the current government is already falling apart. A spokes person for what is now being dubbed as Themelio-Liberal and the other Themelio-Progressive had this to say:
“Antivaro never had the peoples wishes at heart and has already begun to propose dragging us back to the days of the regime. We could not willingly sit there and support such actions nor countenance them and as such have decided to split from the Themelio party as intendant political groups. We will continue to fight for the wishes of our voters and the people”
Given the instability of this new government Speaker Maalik had this to say in response.
“Now is not the time to be divided, we must come together and do what is necessary for our people. We condemn the walking away of duty to our voters by the independents, now it will be much harder to push through the welfare and security reforms that we have already worked out. Antivaro and Themelio are dedicated to making this nation a safer place for all”
The supposed legislation has already been elaborated on, calling for a new and extensive welfare system as well as both workplace safety reforms and a new but as yet undisclosed security measure. The vote for such legislation to be pushed through parliament will occur in 3 days time. We shall only see what awaits this current turn of events.
This has been your news.
Celefra System: Capitol Space
“I will note vote for what is essentially resurrecting the Commissariat you bastard!”
“You don’t have a choice. We need this to go through, or do you not want your precious welfare to be enacted hm?”
The office of MP Walkla wasn’t exactly massive, but it was enough for him to get things done. Unfortunately, the small office currently felt like it was ten times smaller, with the huge fat form of the Antivaro party whip standing in it. The mans name was Indious and he was a foul person, everything that Walkla hated. He fully understood why the others had broken away now, though he disagreed with their beliefs.
Themelio Liberal he didn’t entirely agree with, they were Pro-ASN neoliberals who wanted to open up Capitol to foreign investment. Follow the Natar model they said, break up the big five corporations and let the money flow in. They hadn’t necessarily hated Antivaro, but the mention of a reformation of the ISS/Commissariat had sent them flying.
The second, Themelio Progressive had been massively pro-democracy. He hadn’t joined them due to previous stand offs with some key members, but their wants were sound, they wanted democratic Capitol and a progressive state. Antivaro was their anthesis and getting them to sit in the same room had been bad enough. When the mention of the security reformation had been mentioned it had been them who had stood up and left first. Considering the abuse Walka was under the wish he had joined them.
“Welfare won’t mean shit if we throw away our freedoms again. I will stand my ground on this, you’re not even my own parties Whip I couldn’t give any less of a fuck about what you say to me” He looked down and continued to sign off on several documents, only for Indious to slam his hands on the table, Walkla looked up with barely contained anger.
“If you don’t vote for this fucking bill, I will plaster evidence of you being a paedophile all over your office, your online social media and your fucking home life. By the end of it you will get lynched by your precious voters, your workers, and your own family. How does that sound your liberal piece of shit? You’re the reason Capitol is going soft and falling apart” Walkla debated whether to grab the paper cutter from under his desk and stab it straight into the mans non existent over sized fat neck. His eye twitched, it was oh so tempting.
“So, what’s the answer? You are voting or you going to start fucking kids?” Walkla threw his pen down onto his desk, opened one of the draws and grabbed several things, his hand drifted over the cutter several times, but he only grabbed his personal belongings.
“I quit. No vote for you, nobody to slander.” He stood up, Indious laughed.
“Good one less Themelio rat, Ill have you replaced within the next 20 minutes. Get out of the building” as Walkla exited the room with a red face of rage Indious flipped out his PDA.
“Yea its me, did you hear all that? Good. Get rid of him”
Bel Thano System: Capitol Space
“Here its alright we have plenty”
Michelle nodded in thanks and took the extra ration pack. The tented area wasn’t the nicest place in the world, but it was better than what they had. When Antivaro had not won most of the vote the entire military base had practically erupted, gangs of soldiers and support staff went around dragging people from buildings and beating them or shooting them in the street. The man had been right, they knew exactly who had voted for Themelio and others, and most of them had been quickly dealt with. Michelle had been horrified when the next door housing block was set on fire, a large group of drunk and angry soldiers had started the fire, claiming the whole block had voted for the traitors.
She had gone the whole night listening to people scream and try jump from the multiple stories. Those who survived begged as they were beaten to death. He baby had cried throughout the night, it had been awful. For four days it had continued.
Then the Standard Bearers had come.
The drunk and angry soldiers had refused them entry, the armoured column being barred from the base. When they insisted the shooting had started, the very quickly the angry drunken mobs had been dealt with by military precision. Michelle thought they were being occupied again, but when they had set up in the main drill square and deployed mobile kitchens, support staff facilities and more it had all changed.
Many of the soldiers and the commanders had fled, and the Standard Bearers had taken over the facilities of the base, military and civilian. They offered extra food, their units doctors for medical services and their own men and women to help rebuild what was either destroyed or so run down it was useless. Almost overnight the base had gone from a hellscape to a working community. Michelle felt bad, she had no idea the Black Red and White were so helpful.
She had even seen on the news that they were doing this everywhere, swooping in to support those communities affected by rioting and militias. They were championing the people where Themelio and Antivaro had betrayed them.
“Did you hear? There might be a vote of no confidence soon. Another one of the Themelio MPs stepped down today, rumour has it he was killed soon after”
“But that means another vote… I don’t think I can take another 10 years of this” Michelle sat down under one of the tents with her usual band of mothers, all wrapped in nice blankets provided and with hot food.
“If there is I’m voting BRW they done more for us here than anyone else has done in our lives” Michelle looked up and smiled, staring at the Integral Co-Operative symbol on the Standard Bearers vehicle parked nearby.
“You know, I think I would as well”
Celefra System: Capitol Space
The parliament hall itself was large, very large. A circular stone room which looked brand new and had only been used previously by the Occupation Government. Now it was being used for its intended purpose, by the true Capitol government to vote on proper legislation. MPs had filed in and taken their seats, the sound of people outside was audible even here and many looked uneasy.
Tens of thousands were in the streets outside protesting, the coalition was bad enough and the rumours of the formation of a new intelligence branch akin to the ISS or Commissariat had whipped them into more of a frenzy. But it was the rumours of a second election and a vote of no confidence which drove the most anger, Capitolites had suffered and died for 10 years in this election build up, fighting for the party they supported only for it to fall apart and be restarted at the last possible second.
As everyone filed in the main speaker of the house stood up.
“Welcome all, today is a momentous day regardless of outcome. It is the first time Capitol has decided its own law, and its own future through the will of the people. No mater what is said here today it will go down in the annals of our history. Today we will vote on the proposed Welfare and Security Bill, along with the debate and vote on other matters” He went silent for a few moments before the head of the Black Red & White party stood up, Ioannis Tzaferis. He had once been a nobody, a worker in the shipyards of Bel Thano. And now he was here, representing the Integral Coperative through BRW.
“I would like to propose an immediate vote”
“A vote must first be debated, on what grounds and subject?” The speaker replied. Antivaros members suddenly looked cautious.
“A vote of no confidence in the coalition government Mr. Speaker.” The room suddenly erupted into jeering, shouting and chaos. Ioannis merely stood patiently ignoring the insults thrown at him.
“Order! ORDER!” Slowly the chaos subsided.
“Is this true? Are you sure you wish to do this on such a momentous day?”
“I would be betraying my foundation and voters if I did not Mr. Speaker” Antivaro began to look outright concerned. Maalik was already whispering to Alikos, reassuring him that it would not pass.
“Very well then. We shall vote this now, considering it may very well invalidate the further bills. You all realise this would mean an immediate second election, something that may very well throw our people into further chaos. All who vote aye for no confidence?” Maalik and Alikos looked confident as all of Black Red and White stood up, along with many of the original independents. Nowhere near enough to push the vote, as much as the Themelio break offs hated the coalition they wouldn’t see it thrown down and plunged into chaos.
His face however dropped.
Ioannis nodded to both Themelio Liberal & Progressive segments who had broken away. And as one, they both stood up.
They had a majority. Alikos face practically went white. There was no jeering now, the Coalition side was silent. The Speaker took a deep breath, the silence of the moment was tangible.
“As of the official vote. The coalition government is found to be of no confidence and will immediately step down from power. An interim committee will be set up and a new election put forward. Creation help us all”
As soon as the word got out, the protesters turned violent.
Querran System: Capitol Space
The sound of running filled the hallway outside his office followed by the bursting open of his door. Andreas would normally chastise anyone of his staff to make such a rapid intrusion, but he had just seen the news.
“Sir!”
“I have seen the news. All of that for nothing…” Andreas wiped his face and leant back in his chair; his XO shook his head.
“No sir, not that, we have confirmed reports of full-on attacks by the Army of the Panopticon, Four Daggers Army and Freikorps Herakles, it looks like a general invasion!” Andreas face turned into a scowl.
“They were waiting for this. Bastards. Rally what men we have, we have to hold them back”
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Post by EmperorMyric on Jul 19, 2021 14:03:18 GMT
Integral Cooperative Headquarters Bel Thano Capitol Space
“Chairman Tzaferis, I have made it very clear that you should only call me if something unexpected happened.”
Out in the populated worlds of Capitol, a charismatic and exuberant man by the name of Ioannis Tzaferis had promised the world to the battered populace of the Capitol Republic. Through the Integral Cooperative and the Black-Red-White party, a bright future of reconstruction and development had been paved in the minds of the people, particularly among the workers of the ‘Big Five’ industrial conglomerates. Ioannis Tzaferis, party chairman of Black-Red-White, was not one to shy away from confrontation and to get knee-deep in the turbulent waters of Capitolite populism, but once in a while his ambitions outpaced pragmatism and he ended up promising things that hadn’t even made it to Black-Red-White’s party platform.
The one who made sure those impromptu promises would be kept track of and eventually fulfilled was far away from the public eye. The grey eminence of the Integral Cooperative, General Integral Encanda Strix, knew when to pull on the party chairman’s leash and when to pull on the rest of the party to live up to his ambitions.
One thing she disliked was being interrupted, especially just to be told things were fine. Encanda was a problem-solver, things that weren’t problems didn’t concern her. The vote of no-confidence had passed, she didn’t care about how razor-thin the margin was. It just meant the Capitol Parliament was dealt with for the time being.
“My apologies, General Integral.” Tzaferis answered on the other side of the audio call. “I just wish to congratulate you for your guidance. Glory to the Integral Cooperative.”
Encanda cut the call as soon as she could and returned to her work. Every minute that Antivaro and Themelio-Center spent reeling from the disintegration of the government was an additional minute the Integral Cooperative gained for planning its own operations. To be as many steps ahead of Themelio-K and Antivaro, that was the name of the game, and by now Encanda had accrued decades of advantage over the bickering parties.
“Apologies, General Verdi.” Encanda turned to the holographic call she had been interrupted from.
“No need to apologize, General Integral” Replied Ernesto Verdi, one of the eight Civil Dictators of the distant minor world of Aluminaria.
Whereas the parties were now completely occupied with how things were going to go in the next hours and minutes, Encanda built the world that was to come in 10 years. While Themelio and Antivaro were either looking at the past or relying on improvisation to implement their vision, Encanda relied on experimentation and observation. Aluminaria was the laboratory in which her vision was being tested, and the rougher their transition into a new society was the more information she could gather to avoid falling into the same pitfalls when implementing it in the far larger nation of Capitol.
These calls with the Aluminarian Civil Dictators and the Executive Cabinet were the most important things of the week, and the part of her job Encanda enjoyed the most. She could forget about people and scandals and dive right into the numbers, observing the results of her grand experiment for Capitol play out in advance in Aluminaria. The application of her vision, which she had originally developed to merely increase the productivity of a corporation, had propelled Aluminaria into being the fastest-growing economy in the galaxy, surpassing the Höchlands and other nations that were rebuilding from the aftermath of the Boreal Jihad. Every single statistic of the Aluminarian economy interested Encanda, the various ways in which people resisted or submitted to her vision fascinated her into asking for more details for hours. This was her greatest weapon and what every previous ruler of Capitol had lacked: preparation and experience.
Nevertheless, something bothered her.
“The information is of top quality but I will have to make a humble request of the Executive Cabinet.” Encanda said, the lone physical attendant in the large holographic meeting room.
“Of course, General Integral Strix.” Aluminaria’s head of government nodded. “What might that be?”
“I would appreciate it if you stopped making mentions of ‘Strixism’ or the ‘Strixian Method’ in official documents.” Encanda replied drily as ever. “There are no political projects by those names. If you are to use a word to describe your current program, it should be Z-...”
With the deep rumble of an underground explosion, the holographic call was immediately cut and the lights went out. In the few seconds it took the armored shutters in her conference room to close, the General Integral could see other explosions rocking the skyline of high-rises and the flaming debris of her building’s comms antenna pummel to the ground. An Union-made drone flew by dropping submunitions, hitting Encanda with a muted sonic boom. The fire alarm went off.
It was the fire alarm that bothered Encanda the most, making her weakly clench her fist and her eye to start twitching. She didn’t need that. It was only natural that the Four Daggers Army joined in the massive offensive against the weakened Capitol Republic. The Capitolite Army was obviously going to fold like a piece of wet cardboard in a matter of hours, their soldiers in disarray and the barracks paralyzed by standoffs between political factions. So why the hell did she need the alarm? Yet another interruption she didn’t need, now it was going to be impossible to work.
“Ma’am, we need to evacuate immediately!” A shout made Encanda raise turn her gaze from the window and to the entrance of the room, where her chief of security rushed at her.
“What are you doing?!” Encanda protested as the security chief grabbed her fragile wrist, revealing the scars of a youth spent shackled. “Stop it!”
The security chief stopped as more of her bodyguards and doctors ran into the room. “We need to get you to safety!”
“There is work to be done!” Encanda raised her voice. “Leave? You must be insane! At a moment like this?”
“The Four Daggers Army is entering the city outskirts, ma’am, our building has been hit!”
“Listen to me, I give the orders here!” A strike from her cane onto the concrete floor was enough to get them all to stand back. “Did you not expect any of this to happen? Have you seen the state of our army? Evacuate all support personnel and non-critical administrators. But the rest of us stay here, no matter how much they bomb us. And turn off that cursed fire alarm.”
Her retinue was completely dumbfounded, but any order that the General Integral gave was promptly executed. The fire alarms fell silent, but Encanda stepped forwards, not done reprimanding her men.
“They’re cutting communications to start the offensive. This building still has the landlines to all the other headquarters and unless they are cut the work will continue. Every second counts, they have failed to distract us with the political circus and they will fail to distract us now.
Not a single person in this building is useful to the Integral Cooperative and the Capitolite Nation cowering in a bomb shelter or being carried away in a limo. Especially not me. Right now we must command the Neosoma to help our brothers in the Standard-Bearers by storming their barracks and subjugating militarist elements in the army. Do you have any idea of how much coordination and communication it is going to take to accomplish that? This situation has to be resolved in two hours maximum or the FDA will kill us all, so I am not going to waste however long it takes us to get to the command aircraft. We will continue working here. If they demolish the building we will have accomplished more work than by evacuating and I trust my replacement if I die. Everyone stays. Handcuff all cowards to their posts.”
Despite the muffled booming of guided mortar barrages and C-RAM batteries firing in long bursts outside, the ambiance in the room was as if not a single sound was heard. Complete stillness as the hunched octogenarian imposed herself on the room. Salutes and hesitating ‘yes ma’am’s by her crew was not enough to calm the General Integral’s disgust.
“Mr. Tripoulis, did you serve in the military?” Encanda asked of her chief bodyguard what she already knew.
“Yes ma’am.” The man replied firmly. “94th Airborne Division.”
“Did you swear an oath to lay down your life for the Capitolite Nation?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“The terms have not changed. Go back to work like a good Zenithist.”
Bel Thano System: Capitol Space
The barricade exploded outwards as Nabaq launched a grenade into it, he and his men rushing into close quarters as the Capitol soldiers before them began to turn and run. Within a few moments he put two rounds into a man fleeing while the rest were gunned down by his squad. The Capitol army units had folded within two hours of the assault into the city, it was laughable, but then what could be expected from such a rotten state and people?
Nabaq put another round into a moaning soldier by his feet without effort and continued forward. One member of his squad, Xalian carried a flamethrower, and used it liberally as he kicked down doors of the houses and proceeded to scorch the interiors. They had only partially evacuated this section before the soldiers ran and the screams of the Capitolites within reminded Nabaq he was doing his solemn duty. Across the city FDA units were moving in, clearing out everyone and everything, it was good to finally be taking the war to the people. For too long they had operated as small forces, now they were something greater once more.
Gunfire came down the street causing Nabaq and his squad to briefly duck into cover, occasionally a squad of soldiers would try to hold out, but it wasn’t the soldiers that were slowing them down or giving them issues. It was Neosoma. The bastards might be brightly shined in the shoe department, but they were fanatic, and they defended their people well. Nabaq could at least respect them for that, he always gave them quick deaths. They quickly returned fire, using promenades and garden cover to help them get down the street towards the Neosoma unit.
Covered by Xalians flamethrower Nabaq charged, firing off his remaining clip and downing several targets, the servers on his power armour whirred as they propelled him forward, and allowed him to leap over a medium size wall, landing right next to two troopers. He didn’t bother to reload, punching one of them full force in the helmet the mans head broke open, the second he kicked the leg off before crushing his throat. Nabaq almost allowed himself to smile before a shot hit in square in the chest. The round taking him off his feet. Out of the dust kicked up by the firefight stepped another soldier in power armour, this time looking very different to Nabaq.
“Standard Bearer…” He spat. Getting up quickly he charged the man, dodging one shot and throwing the dead Neosoma corpse at him to force him to one side. A moment later they were grappling, Nabaq and his cold rage forcing the Standard Bearer to one knee, the two power armours, Union & Capitol straining against each other. It was then Nabaq realised, the helmet was not standard issue on this soldier and was built to accommodate numerous cybernetics.
“Your… Ex EPA…” He said aloud through his helmet’s speakers. The man grunted.
“I am! Through the Zenithist cause the Syntagma can be fully realised!” He managed to be pushed back, Nabaq letting him force him back one step. Without any word in reply Nabaq moved lightning fast, ignoring his pain and the power armour warning signals he put the servos into overdrive, Capitol PA was lighter than Union PA, but allowed much more flexibility. Nabaq didn’t care, he punched as hard as he could, his fist driving into the mans chest armour and shattering it, punching through into his chest, and denting his rear armour. The Ex EPA Soldier screaming in pain before gurgling.
“Your correction is at hand, that was for Profundus”
Rubikon System: Capitol Space
It had been a long journey for Rubikon.
The war had not been kind to the second most industrialised system in Capitol space. Once the hub of the APP, with shipyards, a thriving industrial world, and the intricacies of the Brotherhood of the Great State it had been the site of the second largest battle of the 2nd Galactic war with Rubikon II being invaded, Rubikon Prime being mostly irradiated by the Union and the subsequent escape by the Army of the Panopticon. Still despite its hardships the AGA occupation force had helped rebuild it somewhat, new shipyards for civilian use were constructed, clean-up and rebuilding efforts on Rubikon II and Prime occurred and new civilians moved back into old homes.
For a time Rubikon seemed to have gotten some of its lustre back, once more reaping the benefits from the large SORKA and ARPEI yards it had prospered although not as much as it once had.
But had all changed when the Army of the Panopticon had come home. Hordes of null thralls, mindless soldiers and abyssal creatures spawned from whatever nightmare they could conjure descended upon Rubikon again keen to take back their home and destabilise an already injured state. Cities burned as regular army units fled their posts and ran, Antivaro struggling to control its own militarist elements. Broadcast slaughter was sent across Capitol space as they advanced uncontested. Entire army units were massacred as they ran or made poor planned stands, and so into the fire the Standard Bearers deployed.
The inhuman screaming filled the air as another Abyssal Golem was destroyed, the Xiphos MBT putting three rounds into it as its body exploded in strange gel. Caspia grunted as the return fire came in, ghostly rays of light which immolated one of her squad mates from the inside of his armour.
“Get down! I want suppressing fire and cover that tank!” Caspia directed her men who took up positions, covering the Xiphos as it anchored the line. They even got new tanks, ever since they had offered her the position in the Standard Bearers Caspia had been thankful. She had seen first-hand what happened to the Army units who had run away. It wasn’t pretty.
So far, they were holding the AOTP back, but they were taking heavy casualties, even with the new equipment from the Integral Co-operative it was a hard-won fight, the Army were beyond anything they had encountered, and things only got stranger. Caspia had seen the drop plan, Standard Bearer units were deploying across Rubikon to stop the AOTP. They were valiant, their efforts having already turned the tide but now it was becoming a war of attrition, something they couldn’t afford to fight. The Standard Bearers were well equipped, well trained, but not numerous.
They needed reinforcements.
Celefra System: Capitol Space
“We need to send in the Republican Guard!”
“Its YOUR supporting units who are collapsing Alikos, first you kill off this coalition and now you want us to throw our good men and women away because your grand military forces are running away?” Maalik was furious on the holo link. Alikos was stressed beyond all doubt.
“Look! Right now, we have no chance in a second election unless we do something! If you deploy the Republican Guard, we will give them full funding and PR support. We will even give them access to our material stocks! We need to spin this in a way that makes us look good for re-election! If we have the Republican Guard go in, they can hold back the tides while we re-organise our forces and ready for a second push, we can also have them make the Standard Bearers look back! I dunno fake some civilian deaths or something, anything!” Maaliks face was enraged but even the Themelio leader knew that without their deployment multiple fronts were going to fall.
“We will deploy them. Give them full access to your logistics and equipment stores. They will work alongside regular army units but not under them. You will not control them Alikos” The Antivaro leader sat back in his chair more relieved. He felt better now than the crisis was going to be somewhat averted.
“Oh of course Maalik don’t worry you will have full command of them. They are Themelios own forces after all…”
Bel Thano System: Capitol Space
Andreas sat in the command post, what had been a shopping centre was now a burnt-out carcass which was gutted by artillery. His men were flitting about, getting updates on various situations throughout the city and across the planet. The FDA was attacking in force and Andreas had finally been called on, this city and time was the headquarters of the Integral Co-operative. Why he had specifically been sent here of all places to command was a puzzle.
Still his command post was not alone, Neosoma and Standard Bearer command elements were set up too. Much to the anger of the local militarist commander under Antivaro Andreas had chosen to set up and support the Black Red & Whites own forces, at least they were the ones holding the line. And despite the initial tensions and supposed political rivalries both the Cooperatives armed elements were treating Andreas and his men well, sharing full intel, helping deployment maps and giving fire support assets cross unit capability.
Already they had blunted, and counter attacked the FDAs main push into the city.
It was already on the news too. Standard Bearer units and Republican guard holding the thin line, with army forces in full retreat. He had watched a special earlier where Themelio was trying to help Antivaro spin that the army forces were merely regrouping and not in a full rout, stating the Standard Bearers were merely blocking elements. What a load of horseshit, and no doubt the public knew it. The AOTP was very particular about what horrors it broadcast from the likes of Rubikon.
“Captain Andreas, it seems the FDA is trying to make another push across Lansdrad Avenue, I don’t have any available units would you be able to plug the gap?” The voice of General Asha brought Andreas out of his moment of thinking. He immediately surveyed his holo map.
“Yes I can move the 121st in, but they will need artillery support and will be stretched thin”
“Done. I will move in the 89th as soon as they are re-armed and resupplied. I appreciate your efforts Captain, your soldiers have proven themselves more than any army units have” She smiled. Andreas nodded.
“Captain call coming in for you” Someone called with a salute, Andreas put down several papers and stepped into his small office, an old store cupboard. He quickly found the face of Senator Polus looking at him via hololink, one of the high members of Themelio in the Coalition.
“Ah Captain. I have urgent orders”
“Of course Senator, however the situation here is rather tenuous the FDA is currently trying to counter attack as we spea-“
“Enough of that. I want you to let it happen. Conserve your forces as much as possible, let the Co-operative take the brunt of the losses. Order your men to do whatever it takes to plant potential evidence of Standard Bearer and Neosoma atrocities, do whatever it takes to disgrace them” Andreas looked shocked and went to protest but Polus cut him off.
“Do not forget the Cooperative is also our enemy. We must do whatever it takes to sabotage them both for the eyes of the media and militarily. You have your orders; I expect you to carry them out to the letter” The link immediately cut. Andreas looked at the floor for a few moments.
So, this was what it came to.
“Aide”
“Yes sir?” He called from outside the room walking in.
“Was that conversation recorded?”
“No sir, at least not on the network, it would be saved to the local devices drive however-“
“Download it. Leak it to the media. And tell General Asha to expect a political shitstorm”
<<<BREAKING NEWS>>>
GENERAL OFFENSIVE LATEST:
Reports have been received that a top ranking Themelio party senator has been found trying to use the Republican guard to undermine the Standard Bearers and Integral Co-operatives efforts in attempting to defend the nation against the current general offensive. Senator Polus of the Themelio party was caught thanks to leaked communications information trying to force Republic Guard elements into planting false flag evidence and even sabotage their efforts. It is known that the Republican Guard refused and chose instead to out the traitorous actions given that the Standard Bearers have been instrumental in holding back the enemies at the gates.
Ioannis Tzaferis chairman of Black Red & White had this to say:
“The blatant undermining of our efforts to save the Capitol population when the military itself has crumbled is nothing but betrayal and outright treason against this nation. We call for the arrest and trial of Senator Polus immediately as well as a full investigation into the Themelio party. To not only betray their voters with the coalition but act against another party outright in a time of need is the highest betrayal of the people. We thank the efforts of the Republican Guard who have helped step up to hold the line and we will continue to work with them closely for the defence of this nation”
Immediately after the leak Senator Polus resigned his position and was arrested, he is currently awaiting trial for treason against the state which as you our viewers know carries the sentence of death. Themelio Chairman Maalik had this to say:
“The actions of Senator Polus do not reflect that of our party, and we are committed to upholding the integrity and safety of this nation. We would not have deployed the Republican Guard otherwise; it is only a matter of time before the regroup the military is complete and we can begin our counter attack. Thank you”
Antivaro has also parroted the line that army units are regrouping as part of a grand plan, but many see it for what it is. Support for both the Themelio and Antivaro parties have dropped dramatically overnight and not just because of the party split, meanwhile Black Red & White has seen a massive surge of popularity and continues to lead the way in the defence of our state. Maybe they will become our new elected party, only time will tell.
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Post by EmperorMyric on Jul 20, 2021 19:12:04 GMT
Natar: ASN Space
The Grand Admiral stared tiredly at the screen sat before him, across the dinner table,
“News of advancements by FDA Forces throughout the region have prompted full scale withdrawal by local military units. Disgruntled and confused, the faces on the evacuees tell a story greater than any words. The flag of yet another of its foes flies over another Capitolite city-”
Flick.
“-The news of the false-flag bid comes in tandem to large scale withdrawals by Coalition units from several strategic sectors this week. The ongoing clash between Administrator Tetlisun for the release of the Kalethian Freighter “Meeting at Talcit” from its current impound by FDA Forces continues after two weeks that crewmembers have described as-”
Flick.
“...With the leak of this order to conduct staged incidents with Integralist units, trust within the Themelio-Antivaro league along with public support for the coalition have been brought to a breaking point. A spokesman from the Capitol reports to the Terminus Press that…”
Raxis muted the monitor, a grim look upon his face, as he slowly shook his head in dismay; glaring at what he was witnessing,
With a defeated, sullen grunt the Ex-Admiral switched off the monitor with his remote and put it aside. In a staunch contrast to the scenes of chaos, the cacophony of war and the words of hectic politicking, Raxis sat in silence. Alone, isolated, Raxis was a world away from the carnage. Instead of the sound of destruction, all that Ortegan could hear was the peaceful whistling of the songbirds that flitted by his window in the evening sun, and the brushing sound of the wind among the trees.
A part of him almost wished to resign himself to this land. Here Raxis had built a community for his exiles, one where they held political power without endless battling with enemy governments. The Telirans of Natar were treacherous, to be sure, but paled in the bloodthirst to what Raxis had encountered with in his heyday, and few such politicians ever bothered to skirmish with Raxis’ camp and the collection of backwater nations they inhabited and co-governed.
Rising from his chair, the ageing officer strolled to the balcony, his boots thudding across the wooden floor of the venerable building he now called home. Looking outside, he watched as the cows across the way grazed lazily in the fields, his guards mingling with each other as they did their rounds about the perimeter of his property, and at an old Teliran hobbling down the road to his house a short way down the countryside path. Natar was more infamous for its casinos, its rampant trading and its tourism. But it was here, in the countryside of the Kingdom of Nardal that he had found some semblance of peace.
Raxis frowned, for he knew that, for whatever contentment the old Grand Admiral had found here, it was not his right to possess it. He had given his life to Capitol, to the Grand Empire, and every day he spent here was another day that the Empire was left in need. Giving one last look out to the rolling patchwork of fields, the Admiral turned to retire to bed. Instead, he was met by one of his aides entering the room,
“My apologies Sir, I’ve been informed that a one ‘General Relanio Ketha’ has invited you to a dinner in Talcit, he expressed a deep desire to discuss something with you.”
Another one of these useless banquets and self-ingratiating meetings that the Capitol exiles were so often invited to, Raxis thought, it was through these events that his peers had grown so fat and complacent here on Natar.
“...Very well.”
Whatever this Ketha man wished to discuss with Raxis, the Grand Admiral was planning it to be the last such escapist feast of his. After this, no longer would Raxis relish in the life that perhaps in another reality he was owed, after this, Raxis would resolve to return to the virtue that transcended contentment, happiness and peace.
Duty.
Rubikon System: Rubikon II
After fourteen years, the Army of The Panopticon was back home.
Nowhere in the nation was the disintegration of the Army more catastrophic than in Rubikon II, the erstwhile military-industrial capital of the empire and home of SORKA. Due to the inefficiency of the interim government, after over a decade and a half the Rubikon II army garrison had not been fully rebuilt. It remained vastly understrength and was comprised mainly of foreigners from Selene and Bel Thano, so tight had been the grip of the Brotherhood of the Great State over the Inara-era Rubikon garrisson that they had defected to the Army of The Panopticon in droves, leaving a dearth of experienced local officers and NCOs in Rubikon.
The Capitolite Army was reeling in almost every front due to its internal fragmentation. In Selene, Celefra, Bel Thano and a dozen smaller peripheral worlds, the army had to be backstopped from complete collapse by political paramilitaries like the Republican Guard and Neosoma. In Rubikon II it had not been enough, and the sheer strength with which the Army of The Panopticon taken to the field had turned the Capitol Army’s initial defeat into a catastrophic rout.
Freikorps Herakles and Four Daggers Army forces in Rubikon were annihilated practically overnight by the Army of The Panopticon. Unlike the other two insurgent organizations, the AOTP entered the battle not as a horde of guerrillas but as a fully mechanized, modern army. Emptying thousands of secret caches left from the war, the Army of The Panopticon proved more than a match for the Republican Army even in open pitched battle.
with the army falling apart in front of them, the Army of The Panopticon seized the chance to not just take tactical objectives but to send a wordless message to the galaxy and AGA. To the Union of worlds, RANGSI and Restevia, a vengeful statement of vengeance and an affirmation that the Army of The Panopticon was undefeated and defiant:
The Army of The Panopticon seized and set up their headquarters in the Socratia Triangle, which millions of AGA men and women had bled for. wherever they marched, memorials were dynamited and graves were desecrated.
“Let the field commanders know that they should avoid the temptation of being too symbolic. Do not come anywhere near our old facilities, we are a new organization now.”
Xerxes Alesso surveilled the field with a pair of binoculars. Gravel crunched under his shoes, mixed in with the debris from a Restevian memorial that had been demolished. He was from the old guard of the Army of The Panopticon and had been sent back to Rubikon for his most important asset: his experience. He’d already fought in the desert world during the Second Ancerious war and had detailed knowledge of the terrain and all the secret tunnels and caches that did not show up on the maps. Maneuvering in the Socratia Triangle was like getting back on the saddle of an old and familiar horse for Xerxes, the grim trail of mass graves and burnt barracks behind him attested to that.
But he wasn’t there to fight a war by himself. He was there to show by example and try to fix one of the Army of The Panopticon’s major shortcomings: a dearth of experienced officers.
“we’re setting ourselves up here so I want comms masts on the hills.” Alesso gazed at a line of mountains in the distance before turning to his lieutenants and staff car. “Landlines only from there to here, there are still enemy forces behind our line.”
“Understood.”
Over ten years of preparation, subterfuge and the hijacking of smuggling routes used by the now-defunct ironshirt cells had allowed the Army of The Panopticon to bring a force far exceeding even the wildest estimates of the Capitol Republic. Under Xerxes’ command was the biggest and most powerful challenger to the’s Capitolite Nation’s precarious and rapidly-collapsing rule in Rubikon: The “Agia Falanga”. Forty motorized divisions strong, the Agia Falanga represented the old and more conventional face of the Army of The Panopticon, drilled in mechanized warfare and largely traditional in operation. Boasting little below half a million men in manpower, the Agia Falanga had been equally assembled out of Panopticon sleeper cells, mercenaries and soldiers who had been smuggled into Rubikon. They rode to battle on the old remnants of GEPAR’s trucks and APCs recovered from hidden mountain bunkers, disposing of the ancient equipment as soon as they could and swapping them out for the vehicles of the overwhelmed Rubikon garrison.
“Our intelligence was wrong.” Alesso remarked as he was followed by two hooded, cloaked figures, one significantly smaller than the other. “Inform Master General Laikos that the Rubikon garrison was in a much worse state than we expected. The enemy did not manage to retreat and now there are large pockets of them trapped behind our lines. we must pause the advance on the cities until we can reduce these pockets or else our rear will be in danger.”
with a dusty gust of wind, glimpses of etheral green strings fluttered from the taller of the two figures. They weightlessly flickered for a second and then the figure spoke in a soft feminine voice muffled by a balaclava.
“Master-General Laikos asks how long do you expect the Agia Falanga to reduce the pockets.”
“One week by myself. Forty eight hours if the Synopticon assists me.”
“Master-General Laikos authorizes you to halt the advance for fifty hours and eliminate the pockets. The Synopticon will assist. Immediately resume the advance towards the cities after resistance is dealt with.”
“Give the Master-General my thanks.” Xerxes stopped atop a small pile of rubble and put his binoculars back in their pouch. “As for you, I believe it is time for you to start showing me your operational capabilities. I have shown you mine. we will begin reducing the pockets starting from the outermost ones, position your forces accordingly.”
“It will be done as ordered.”
“Dismissed, Eraserhead.”
Dissolving into an inky blackness, the taller of two figures disappeared without a trace. Xerxes was left alone with the smaller cloaked figure once the rest of his staff had also faded away as if they weren’t even there, with only briefly flickering golden strands left in their wake.
Celefra System: Capitol Space
“This is all your fault Maalik! If your fucking liberal toy soldiers hadn’t leaked the info and your dense party whip been so brazen about it, we wouldn’t be in this position in the first place!” Alikos roared, throwing a piece of crystal drinking ware at the hologram. Maalik was just as enraged.
“Bullshit! If your useless cowards in the army held the line instead of running away, we wouldn’t be in this mess! Party of the militarists? Please, I should have turned away your offer at the first convenience. Besides the leak was anonymous it could have been anyway, it could have even been BRW hacking into our comes network!”
“As if it matters! We were withdrawing to regroup Maalik its not our fault the AGA gutted the officer core and ruined our fine armed forces, how could you and yours ever support the continuation of their wishes!” Alikos gripped the back of his ornate chair tightly.
“The same way how you can easily support bloody handed dictators. Your men are all cowards, your all cowards. My party might be done for, with our MPs and backers jumping ship, but yours is no different. Even now im getting reports of your ‘fabled’ army forces pulling out of the entire northern space! Fancy that? Running away to hide I expect” Maalik retorted. The statement however made Alikos hesitate.
“What did you say?”
“I said you’re an old Inaraist supporting pie-“
“No, no. About the withdrawal?” Maalik was confused.
“Military assets are withdrawing from all across northern space. Fleet units are fleeing and sabotaging anything they can’t control and army facilities are being stripped and evacuated. Why playing dumb with me? Its plain to see your scum are setting up a group in the south territory” Maaliks revelations made Alikos face go cold.
How could he have not known this? He was the main man of Antivaro, he made the militarists tick, He had eyes in every circle and the ear of every general… How could he not know something this major was going to happen. Unless…
“Maalik. They are coming for me, you must save yourself.” The ex Themelio leader looked even more confused.
“Alikos what the fu-“ Alikos shut the link and took a moment to think, he was panicking and rushed over to some of his draws, taking trinkets and family heirlooms and stuffing them into his pockets.
“Quickly, enter I need assistance! I need the car ready immediately-“ Alikos heard the door open and his servant walk in only to hear the heavy boots on the tiled floor. He went still and cold, finally looking up at the form of a Commissar. The heavy calibre pistol was already in the mans hand.
“I… I…” Alikos tried to speak “I did everything for us…”
“Party Speaker Alikos, you are hereby charged with treason against the Sovereign Court, your sentence along with those of your party is death. How do you plead?” The mans voice was course, and Alikos shaking, he quickly pissed himself. He had tried to play all sides so much in his life it had finally caught up to him.
“… I… Did everything right…” He barely whispered.
“You are found guilty” A single round tore through the old man, the Commissar, who ironically Alikos had tried to reintroduce holstered his gun and walked out. All across the northern territories, Antivaro MPs were killed violently, Antivaro as a party just like Themelio had ceased to exist. The militarists were done playing games, they were taking power by their own terms.
Bel Thano: Capitol Space
The Four Daggers army urban offensive into the all the main cities had been finally defeated. Bel Thano was won.
Andreas sat in his chair and did not celebrate. He had lost many good men and women and through the efforts of both the Republican Guard and Standard Bearers had fought side by side to ensure the victory and protection of the people. Despite being two very different forces, respect had been totally earned. Still the news was grim, the anonymous leaking of Party Whip Polus had done more damage than Andreas had hoped. Themelio had practically fallen apart overnight, with media outlets pouncing on it like starving beasts. No number of apologetics or covering could get the party out of that mess, and within another day most MPs walked out or renounced their positions, grabbing what party wealth they could and leaving.
Themelio was gone. The Republican Guard had no easy direct backing anymore, nobody in charge. Andreas didn’t mind that honestly. No more screaming in his ear by politicians every 5 minutes. He closed his eyes to rest a little bit, but the urgent sound of more footsteps disturbed him, he opened his eyes for an aide to rush into the damaged room panting.
“Sir! Militarist Army and Navy assets are withdrawing across the northern territory!” Andreas merely shrugged.
“We knew that already, running to whatever bases and boltholes they have-“
“No sir. Full scale withdrawal, their burning everything they can’t take from here to Selene, everything. Their withdrawing to the Southern territory! Word is there’s Commissars ensuring that entire units withdraw… How could that be?” Andreas stood up alarmed.
“This must be what they were planning…”
“Theres more, Antivaro Is gone, the majority of their politicians were taken out in a swathe of killings just hours ago, we only got the news now because our entire network was cyber attacked, we didn’t even realise. Standard Bearers have suffered the same, its all gone to shit”
“Creation help us”
Integral Cooperative Headquarters Bel Thano Capitol Space
After weeks spent in a kind of visionary dream, Encanda Strix found herself being grabbed by the unpredictable hand of fate and pulled right down to the muddy meatgrinder of Capitolite politics. The same meatgrinder that had already destroyed the lives and ambitions of men who had managed to get themselves in much more advantageous positions than her.
‘This can’t be happening’ were the words that she feared and hated the most. Those powerless words were anathema to her. ‘This can’t be happening’ Encanda evicted the cursed words every they wormed their way into her consciousness, which only got louder every time that she received more news from the catastrophe going on in Rubikon.
work harder. work harder. Nobody leaves. This can’t be happening. Encanda Strix thought of Oscar Van witt, the Garren Dynasty and President Quintillos. She felt like she was on her way to joining them in the oblivion that seemed destined to everyone who attempted to take the reins of this turbulent nation. No, she wouldn’t even be like them. She would be just one more of nameless thousands of generals, aristocrats and industrial barons who had attempted to take power and died before ever tasting victory. Men and women just like Encanda, who also commandeered the hearts of men and vast financial resources, who had planned out everything years in advance only to have their careful schemes turned into historical footnotes by one single slip. And Encanda was going to be the next footnote.
Encanda thought of the Garrens again and it only made her work harder. This was all their fault. Even in death they left her feeling just as powerless and broken as when their underlings had imposed their will on young Encanda. No, this wasn’t the Garrens’ fault. This situation was purely of her own doing.
“General Integral, we’ve done it!” An overjoyed Black-Red-white cadre said through the intercomms. “Standard-Bearer Bel Thano has taken over all local army headquarters, we are finally fighting as one! The Republican Guard is fighting with us, the Four Daggers are running out of steam! Glory to the Integral Cooperative!”
why couldn’t they just stop interrupting her for one goddamn hour? why? Every time someone barged into her room to inform that some fucking highway junction had been retaken or to shout some dumb fucking Black-Red-white slogan… it felt like a strike of the whip that had raised her in the concentration camps. They just wouldn’t stop. what did they expect her to do, smile and cheer? was she not already doing enough for them without having to pause and pat some paramilitaries on the head like they were dogs? Just keep working, you cretins, shut up and keep working!
All she wanted was to be alone with her disaster. An IV line going into her and a cathether going out of her, lips desiccated, gums bleeding and blood pressure meds running through her veins. Familiar hallucinations from weeks of insomnia.
“Congratulate the heroes.” Encanda replied flatly. Days ago she had to muster strength not to bother berating her underlings for interrupted, nowadays she had to muster strength not to sob.
Encanda had spent her days planning for things decades in advance, carefully envisioning the details of a new society. The Army of The Panopticon had not wasted time in those faraway dreams, they had planned for things five years in advance and they had done so with perfect precision. They had outsmarted her and outnumbered her men.
All that Encanda had gotten out of her vast social laboratory in Aluminaria was a single unit. Some two-bit “Divizione Azure” that barely even showed up in the operational map. Years of work and hundreds of millions sank into that barely-habitable rock only to get a single division that just happened to be in Rubikon Prime by coincidence. It had taken Encanda forever to properly negotiate with the Aluminarian Civil Dictatorship to transfer the Divizione Azure to Standard-Bearer Rubikon, and on the meantime all she could do was watching the Rubikon II garrison get broken by the Army of The Panopticon’s forces and her own loyal countrymen get flanked and encircled in the Socratia Triangle. Soon they would begin liquidating the pocket.
without knocking, setting an appointment or making their way through Encanda’s troop of secretaries and schedule managers, a crowd barged their way into her office.
“what is it now!?” Encanda finally snapped and screamed. Her hands started shaking uncontrollably, but when she looked up from her work she saw that the people who had come in were none other than the National Conference. The group of eleven Integrals, her peers in the Integral Cooperative’s top echelons.
This wasn’t Black-Red-white, Neosoma or the Standard-Bearers. These men and women knew the rules about interrupting Encanda. In fact, they all had similar rules for their own staff. If they were interrupting, it was because something had gone unfathomably wrong.
“The Republican Guard fucked us.” Soloman Thetis, Integral of Neosoma, was blunt. The rest of the Integrals sat down on the table, this was obviously going to be long.
“I’m going to have to ask you to elaborate, Integral Thetis.” Encanda put on her glasses, rubbing her eyes after tunnel-visioning on Rubikon II for the last half hour. Much to her surprise, everyone in the room just looked as incensed and disheveled as herself.
“A Themelio senator asked them to conduct false flag operations against the Neosoma while we were struggling for control of the army. Republican Guard refused then leaked the operation. Themelio party whip Polus has been arrested, I don’t think the party exists anymore. Antivaro is furious and we believe there is a full mutiny going on in the army now.”
“They couldn’t just refuse the orders and keep their mouths shut.” Encanda said in exasperation. “Those attention-craving liberal degenerates just had to kick off another circus while we’re on the brink of full civil war.”
“It gets worse.” The Integral of National Industry intervened. “There’s communications blackouts hitting us all over the place. we couldn’t get in contact with Chairman Tzaferis. He ran his mouth on live TV, condemning Themelio, which the militarists took as confirmation we were behind the leak.”
“Someone go out and get that circus clown away from the cameras immediately!” Encanda gestured sharply. “Tell him that not a single thing is going to come out of his mouth without me signing off on it!”
whatever little control Encanda thought she had left on the situation soon evaporated when the rest of the National Conference broke the worst of the news to her; the news they’d come to deliver personally. The militarists were done playing politics power games in the armed forces against the Standard-Bearers. Polus’ arrest and the disintegration of Themelio’s militarist-friendly center faction was the straw that broke the camel’s back, the militarists had given up on any hope of fixing the situation through Antivaro and gone back to the old ways. A militarist-aligned entity calling itself the Special Court of the Armed Forces had come to being in the southern territories, declared the government as unfit and re-established the commissariat. The sheer swiftness and preparedness with which they had done so told Encanda that the militarists had been preparing well in advance, back when they were hoping to revive the commissariat through the legislature but when that had not worked they had done it anyways through the SCAF.
At the behest of the highest leadership of Capitol’s militarist faction, the SCAF’s first two orders crippled not just the Integral Cooperative but the entire Capitolite Nation. The first order: a purge of all elements disloyal to the SCAF including all Standard-Bearer action. The second order: a general redeployment to South Capitol.
A massive southwards migration began among the entire Capitol Republican Navy, if it could be even called that anymore. Every contact was phoned, every favor was called in, every piece of blackmail was used as the militarist cadre fully flexed its muscle and seize the armed forces completely. As they departed to South Capitol, the SCAF’s fleets made sure to sabotage as much as possible on their way out. Everything that they couldn’t bring with them was demolished or vented off into space to deny its use for the Standard-Bearers who refused the SCAF’s orders. Fuel, spares, support ships, operational maps and electronic equipment were all vacuumed up by the newly-declared “Imperial Restoration Navy”, leaving the much smaller Standard-Bearer units stranded in their docks. After Encanda had seized control of the Army in the capitals through Neosoma, the militarists had gotten payback by taking the Navy.
Encanda struggled to understand, and all she could feel was heartbreak once she saw the navy depart Rubikon System and defect the billions of people there, leaving her forces just barely holding on with the Army of The Panopticon at the gates. They probably expected the AOTP to cripple North Capitol and make it ripe for retaking, but Encanda knew if the Panopticon triumphed in Rubikon there would be no North Capitol left at all. This was finally too much, and the General Integral of Capitol stopped working and slumped on her chair, defeated. This can’t be happening.
“we are unable to get in contact with the Standard-Bearers, they are in disarray.’ The Integral of the Armed Forces said. “It appears the militarists launched a cyberattack on their way out. High-level communications have collapsed, we can’t even tell who is loyal to us. Standard-Bearer Selene won’t be able to reinforce Rubikon II.”
“I… don’t know.” Encanda finally admitted to herself. “I don’t know what to do. All I have is an Aluminarian division. That is all I have.”
The shame was unbearable.
“Grand Admiral Raxis has his own forces in Natar and hasn’t declared loyalty to SCAF. The Union of worlds and other AGA powers have also forward-deployed some of their own forces and can make it in time if Standard-Bearer Socratia holds out to the last man.” The Integral of SORKA informed.
“we have no choice, the National Conference of the Integral Cooperative will vote on asking them for help.” Another Integral declared.
“I can’t vote yes on that. That is too much. Anything but that…” Encanda weakly said, feeling like she was being choked.
“General Integral Strix… the National Conference has voted with you in every vote. we believe we are owed a similar courtesy.”
“The vote will begin.”
Rubikon System: Rubikon II
The explosions from the artillery caused Caspia to gasp as the pressure wave hit her.
It had been 6 days since they were redeployed from Rubikon Prime to Rubikon II. 6 days since her unit had been sent to a forlorn engagement with no hope of victory. They had deployed quickly alongside several Republican Guard units and were poised to stop the Army of the Panopticon from hitting Pythagoria. Then they had lost contact with the Republicans, and before they knew it their outer forces had been overwhelmed within an hour, now surrounded they had nowhere left to go.
The Standard Bearers were on their own, fighting against sick horrors from their very nightmares. But the men and women fought all the same.
Caspia sent another burst into the thrall squad approaching their position as several combat drones moved up to support them. The new SORKA models had been practically rolled off the production line when they had got here and immediately put into action, the HPA equivalent drones gave suppressing fire with automatic grenade launchers and another opened up with a 40mm autocannon scything down the incoming targets. They may be dying and cut off, but they were making the inhuman bastards bleed.
The irony of the situation did not get lost on Caspia, they were isolated in the Socratia Triangle. The one place where they had pinned and destroyed the AGA forces sent to invade this place. They had been seen desecrating graves and monuments; this attack was symbolic.
But the Standard Bearers were willing to make their stands none the less. Against another foe they may have surrendered, but none of the men and women had any delusions about what would come of them should they lay down their weapons, turned into mindless drones or worse. Caspia had seen squads run dry of ammo only to detonate their own positions or let themselves be overrun and target themselves with artillery. It was terrible, but it was necessary.
Caspia fired again as the thralls were destroyed, but a blur in her vision had her second take. The tendrils in their air, however, gave her no such hesitation.
“Nightmares!” The term for any of the Panopticons more esoteric creations had been coined early on, and was meant to indicate to the troops that enemies of a nonstandard nature was attacking. Caspia had only just shouted it when the soldier next to her screamed, a manifested black humanoid mass danced above him. He fired his weapon into it but the black smoke barely recoiled, in a moment the man’s head was torn clean off. Caspia herself fired, targeting the strand that flew from whatever the hell it was. A lucky round sliced the connection and an inhuman scream followed as the mass dissipated. Still one of the drones went down to heavy weapon fire, while another tried to engage the Shadow troopers now attacking their position. Caspia went up to fire on the incoming thralls, only to see an enemy trooper walking forward in the open with his arms outstretched. Golden strings flowed from his eyes and mouth which glowed brightly, entire squads of the black creatures manifested from him and flowed outwards. Caspia felt horror as she raised her weapon and scoped him, just as she went to pull the trigger the man looked at her.
Pure terror filled the women who had fought so bravely, in those eyes she saw the very depths of hell and the monstrous nightmare that was the Panopticon for those who were not guided. Unable to pull the trigger Caspia started to scream, but it was silenced a moment later as her body was torn apart by the manifestations.
Silver Cradle: Union Space
“With all due respect Prime Minister there is no sitting and watching. Our estimates and those from Capitol sources put the Army of the Panopticon upon the brink of capturing Rubikon II again. If they capture that much industry intact and if the reports coming out about the militarist withdrawal are true they could take the northern territory within the next few months. We must act now”
Eiasten placed his elbows on the table and sighed.
“The public may not agree with the redeployment of our troops into Capitol Space” Hargun waved a hand.
“With all due respect sir, the publics opinion on this doesn’t matter. We wouldn’t let the Draken casually capture territory, it should be the same with AOTP. They are a major threat and cannot be allowed a foothold. I have a QRF on standard that can arrive on scene to assist in 7 hours. If we don’t send help now it will be too late” The Prime Minister looked uncomfortable.
“How many troops? What have other nations said about this?” Hargun brought up some holographics.
“3 divisions and a small escort fleet is all we can deploy immediately, but I can have the 2nd Army Group be ready in 3 days for deployment. I also have confirmation that the RSC and RANGSI will be deploying their own equivalents. Looks like the Panopticon got their wish when they began publicly desecrating our grave sites.” Eiasten poured a drink and offered it to Hargun, the Admiral refused.
“Deploy the troops. Keep me constantly updated. I don’t want any heroics James, nothing major. Capitol is already on the brink, I don’t want us intervening to make it worse you understand me?” Hargun nodded.
“Understood Mr Prime Minister. I doubt it could get much worse”
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Post by EmperorMyric on Jul 30, 2021 9:00:03 GMT
Situation Room, RNV Tolkanigrad, 8th Fleet
“An update, comrade admiral.” the young captain reported, offering a salute before hurrying off. The situation room was dark, the lights dimmed as numerous holographic displays displayed situation updates and reports from across the fleet. The situation, such as it was, could be summed up as ‘god awful.’
The Capitol elections had gone about as well as anyone had expected, and now, a large force of the AOTP had appeared, exactly where the fleet had not been prepared for them to appear. Rubikon II. For a great many persons in this room, that world held a cursed connotation, a place of blight and horror for a great many AGA soldiers and the RSC as a whole. A few here had returned to the world in the fourteen years since the end of the war, to see the rebuilding and remember the dead before returning to the hunt for the Panopticon that never seemed to end.
And now, here the Panopticon had revealed itself. It was fitting, in a way.
Admiral Tchaikovsky called the room to silence as he read over the updated report that had been transmitted from allied command, this one specifically from a RANGSI commander that it seemed had had so little time they didn’t sign their name.
“Comrades,” he said, looking over the assembled division and corps commanders. They weren’t ready. Over five million troops and six hundred warships, the latest and greatest technology the RSC had to offer to the hunters, and they weren’t ready. Damn the luck. “The situation on Rubikon II is as follows. Capitol Standard Bearers are heavily engaged with AOTP forces, and Union and RANGSI units are inbound hot. Allied forces are heavily outnumbered, and enemy forces are reported as significant. What units do we have ready to deploy on one hour warning?”
Two commanders stepped forward. General Shadikov of the 728th “Dust Marchers,” a fiery little sprite of a woman that held herself like a rod of iron. The other, General Ivirov in his grey uniform… commander of the Walking Dead, the Kronstandt 91st. How fitting. Both units had been there. Both units had suffered. Both commanders handed over unit readiness reports, and Tchakovsky reviewed them before he nodded once. They were as ready as any unit could be for battle. “FTG 7 will take you in. Work with allied forces in all respects, and remember. We are going to Rubikon II to defend it now, not invade it. See to your commands. Dismissed!”
With that, the two saluted and made their way out of the room. Tchakovsky began bellowing orders to bring the rest of the fleet up to readiness-- they had little time.
Vladano System: RANGSI Space
Administrator-General Gabriel watched the developments of the Capitol election unfold as a combined INSECOM-Foreign Service taskforce reported on the events, using a composite of methods ranging from simply tracking AncNet news websites to secret spies and agents on the ground.
“This is unacceptable,” he remarked as the report on Capitol militarists, now calling themselves the SCAF, turned on their own party and withdrew to South Capitol flashed on the holo-screens. “Normally I would not care if the Capitol collapsed and died, in fact that would be to our advantage, but South Capitol is too close to us for it to be a base for the militarists.”
He turned to Admiral Varash, the commander of the entire Karvoskayan Colonial Navy. A young Indian man in his early 40s, Varash was an initially unremarkable Academy officer now turned war hero, steeled and wisened up by the 2nd Ancerious War itself, with visible facial scars and a classic eyepatch to back it up, augmented further by a prominent nine-o-clock shadow.
“Admiral, what are the nearest forces we can muster immediately?”
“Sir, CAPIFOR has just returned and are now in the middle of shore leave, sir,” Varash replied, referring to the 2nd and 7th Strike Forces.
“Cancel their shore leave. Brief Khawaj of the situation. As soon as the SCAF develops into a threat that cannot be ignored I want to make sure I have forces ready to go in at a moment’s notice.”
“Of course sir. The men won’t be happy. Just thought I should let you know that, sir.”
“They will be even less happier if the SCAF rolls over us and destroys their favourite Artifician bar house in the FTZ, I don’t care how you do it Admiral, I want them mobilised now.”
“Yes, sir. Right away sir.”
Gabriel then opened a channel to one of the Foreign Service handlers in the aforementioned Foreign Service-INSECOM taskforce operating in the Tradex Reach. “Get me a line to the Principality of Calastis. Tell them the Republik is willing to offer several lucrative trade agreements and loans in exchange for a number of military bases. Immediately and with great urgency.”
Rubikon II: High orbit
Rear Admiral Crais looked at the situation with a mixture of feelings.
Normally the arrival of additional fleets and forces would make him proud and elated, knowing that the additional firepower would help in turning the tide against the nightmarish forces of the AOTP. But the twists and insecurity in his stomach came from the fact that these new arrivals were not his own forces, they were the those of the ex AGA. The same forces which had once invaded this system, this very world and occupied his nation.
Holographic signatures of Union, RANGSI and RSC vessels were displayed, already deploying ground forces planetside while some of their QRF vessels aided Craises own fleet in driving off the Panopticon naval assets, mostly heavy redesigned Mk.3 vessels. Even more twisting was the fact that the Natar Foreign Legion under direct command of Raxis had been also mustered, brought and deployed by several likely bought out PMC agencies to allow the mobility. The fact Crais was fighting alongside both Inarists and the AGA was almost enough to make him start shooting.
But he couldn’t, the enemy they were facing were infinitely worse.
Already Standard Bearer, Republican Guard and Divizione Azure forces were heavily engaged planetside, and while they were falling back the influx of new forces were desperately needed. Blaring signs indicating the Socratia Standard Bearer forces flashed, their major assets totally surrounded and now facing total eradication. Crais had prayed for a miracle.
Fate had a strange irony in answering them.
<<BREAKING NEWS>>
ONGOING CRISIS:
Capitol in crisis, our great nation faces threats from within and without.
As the situation continues to be dire in Rubikon against the nightmare of the Panopticon we can officially confirm that Rubikon Prime has been saved. Rubikon II continues to hold out, with the valiant and heroic efforts of the Standard Bearers known to be making last stands in order to do whatever they can in helping the civilians. Casulties are known to be horrific and yet these men and women continue to show inhuman courage in the face of darkness.
In a strange twist of irony however it is not our own beloved military racing to aid them, no. It is our old enemies, the Union, RSC, RANGSI and even the Inarists from Natar coming to our aid. It is a dire day when outside aid comes from those who we stand against rather than our own heroic soldiers. It is these very heroic soldiers’ viewers that are running away!
Yes, we have confirmed reports across all of northern Capitol space of military units abandoning their posts, sabotaging military bases and fleeing into southern Capitol. Additional reports have been confirmed of Commissars, yes dear viewers *Commissars* operating openly. News and information from south Capitol have been extremely spotty and the cyber attack against our systems is only now being cleared out, but it is thought that the Garrenist scum of Antivaro and the militarists have finally made their move and are occupying southern Capitol. Instead of protecting their own they flee from the real threats at the cost of our lives.
This can only be the true face of those who try to resurrect the old ways. Death to the militarists and glory to those who still fight for us among the Standard Bearers!
NEWS END
Rubikon System: Rubikon II Socratia - RANGSI Defence Line
“1st Brigade has sustained heavy casualties! They are retreating to the second defence line!”
“3rd Brigade has been overrun! No life signs left!”
“Artillery Brigades 1 and 2 reporting light damages from enemy air attack! Resuming counter fire!”
“2nd and 4th Brigades are running dry on ammo, someone get a logistics run there now!”
Major Hong Kan Liew, more commonly known by his infamous moniker of ‘Major HK’, tapped at the table with the fingers of his -new- cybernetic right hand, having lost his original flesh in an insurgent attack during the AGA Occupation of Celefra all those years ago. He stared at the holo-map intensely, watching as the situation developed.
He now knew why Rubikon II was known as the terrible graveyard for RANGSI troops as he watched the 88th Combined Arms Division sustain heavy casualties at the frontlines, in a desperate defense against the AOTP onslaught. The opening air attacks and the deployment of airmobile brigades to relieve the Capitolite Standard-Bearer pockets at Socratia had initially given them enough breathing room to land and reinforce the defence, but soon the AOTP had regrouped and resumed the attack in earnest, foiling his attempts to break out and quickly rout any battered AOTP divisions nearby in a pre-emptive offensive.
His mission was not to save their Capitolite “allies”, if anything he knew RANGSI could care less about them. Standard Bearer, RWB, Republicans, SCFA, to RANGSI they are all the same thing; Capitol. But a few weeks ago, a small detachment of RANGSI psionic monks had returned to Rubikon II, the AGA graveyards of Socratia more specifically, on some sort of unknown mission. What business they had on the graveyards of their lost comrades, Major HK did not know, but the facts were the AOTP attack had soon left them stranded, and it was his job to defend them until whatever business of theirs was done.
Rubikon System: Rubikon II Socratia - Rear Echelon Areas
The Rear Echelon was a sea of wounded, and a sea of black body bags. In the midst of an occasional artillery and air strike, the CSS companies soldiered on to continue their work of making sure their comrades on the frontlines were getting everything they needed to keep on fighting, and whatever wounded that were coming back were getting treated immediately by the medics.
“Does this man have a faith?”
A monk-commissar hovered over one of the many body bags, unzipping it slightly to reveal the face of a young RANGSI soldier.
A soldier behind him flipped through a clipboard. “Christian sir.”
The monk-commissar fished through a key ring full of many religious items, reaching for a rosary.
“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. Psalm 23:4. Amen.”
The monk-commissar saluted with his unsheathed sword and moved to the next. Doing the same, unzipping the body bag to reveal the soldier’s face.
“Does this man have a faith?”
“No sir. Free thinker.”
He then fished out a keychain of RANGSI’s state insignia of a crescent and five stars encased in a circle, and hovered it over the dead soldier’s face as he did with the rosary.
“Praises and Praises to this fallen soldier. Mother Singapura, accept his deeds done in your glory and may he be among your Sons and Daughters who have honoured your name. Majulah Singapura.”
The monk-commissar moved on to the next. To his surprise, this time, he is now face-to-face with a fallen Capitol Standard-Bearer. A fellow Standard-Bearer, wounded and wrapped in several bandages, was kneeling beside her, weeping.
“Does this woman have a faith?”
The Standard-Bearer looked up.
“Isochroma. She was a believer of Isochroma.”
The monk-commissar paused for a few seconds, before giving a gentle smile. “My apologies, friend, I do not have an item of the Isochroma. But allow me to try my best.”
Taking a deep breath, the monk closed his eyes.
"I lend you my wings, Isochroma, just as you have lent me your light. Be at peace with the glow, be at peace with the Isochroma and till the day all are one."
Rubikon II: Socratia Triangle
The roar of the engine was all Archalo could hear as the new Halberd MBT raced forward over the desert sands. Track’s bit deep into the terrain as the line advanced, the 667th had never deployed to Rubikon II like the other forces here, they had never experienced the Panopticon in combat like they had, but they didn’t care they fought anyway. Following the Walking Deads sudden and rapid counterattack the 667th had fought to break out, the line of Halberds raced forward supported by mounted squads in Whirlwind APCs. They had already lost many, but this wasn’t a conventional war, this wasn’t between the Union and Capitol like 2AW had been. No.
This was a war for survival, they knew what the AOTP was, it was a threat unparalleled and it there was one thing the Union was good at it was fighting horrific threats to the galaxy.
With a uniform concussion wave the air around the advancing line pulsed outwards in a shockwave as the Halberds fired their gravitic accelerators in unison. In front of them Capitol Hyperion tanks stood ready to receive the attack, but no ordinary vehicles were these, black smoke formed like tendrils around their forms and glowing energy seemed to dissipate from their guns. It was like the very vehicles were possessed. Archalo had seen their strange phantom beams annihilate whole squads, where the weapon struck the soldiers had just gone limp, like some invisible string had been cut and their souls extinguished.
“No more” He hissed as he watched the hypersonic projectiles hit home. A string of detonations followed as the targets in front were destroyed. Almost immediately the AOTP made their play, all around the tanks the atmosphere shifted, ice rimed on the vehicles as strange phantasmal figures coalesced out of thin air, dancing as they came, they ran up onto the top of the vehicles and plunged inside, slaughtering crewmen as they did so. Archalo heard the chanting behind him as a black inky being pulled itself through his own commander’s hatch, the things face was pure void like staring into the abyss between realities. It tried to reach for him but soon recoiled, the glyphs drawn on the interiors of the vehicle pulsed violently red as the Monk-Commissars of RANGSI had given the Union their protection. While some vehicles were overwhelmed enough had managed to break free.
“667th! Keep moving, where the dead rise, we conquer!”
Rubikon System: Rubikon II Socratia- RSC Defense Line
“Bogatyr 9, watch 2-2-3! Abomination, abomination!” “Copy, copy, load HEAT!” “Up!” “Fire HEAT!” “Blyat! Blyat, blyat, Rytsar 7 splash! Rystar 5 splash, we’re getting torn up out here!” “Rystar, this is Commissar Yong, hold on, we’re on the way.”
“Raven 6, we’re pulling around to your flank, be advised you’ve got hostile units trailing to your 11.” “Affirm, we’ll get guns on them.” “We’ve got casualties here, requesting casevac!” “Eyes on enemy armor, any CAS on this channel respond, target mark at 3-0-9, how copy?” “Push them back, comrades! Keep up the fire!”
“Tower, this is Ghost 2, third brigade is sustaining heavy casualties and must pull back, requesting fire mission, thunder, thunder, thunder, danger close.” “We’ve got Capitol forces here digging in, we’re emplacing now. Requesting any available tank support, how copy?” “Tower, Tower, this is Dust 5, any word on orbital fire as of this time? AOTP is pressing hard, need more fire on the line.”
The defense line was for the moment holding. It was hanging by a thread and by however many bullets the Restevians and the powers of RANGSI Monk-Commissars could put against the AOTP, but they were holding. Already the Restevians were fighting over territory and ruins they had once fought to invade, and the violence was easily what it had been then. Capitol Standard-Bearer forces to their credit were holding well, but the simple reality of the situation was that they needed more support if they were going to actually force the AOTP onto the defensive.
As of right now, they simply had too much momentum, and too many of their horrors. General Shadikov and General Ivirov both however were vastly grateful for the presence of the Monk-Commissars of RANGSI. Without them, many more units would have collapsed or been forced into retreat. Their powers and presence alone served to bolster the lines of the already bravely fighting Restevian soldiers, holding back the worst of the horror that the Panopticon had to offer on the front lines. Already, among many battalions these Monk-Commissars were welcomed among the Restevians with the same enthusiasm as they would hold for one of their own, and that, if nothing else, made things easier to coordinate.
Celefra System: Capitol Space
“Shortages of medical supplies, food stuffs and portable power generators are confirmed across Selene, we need to requisition at least 30 large bulk haulers for transport and give at least one week for procurement, and this is just the start”
“And that’s if we CAN procure those things…” Official Galix clenched his fist tightly with his head hung low and his arm on the table. The situation was chaos, Rubikon still under siege, the AGA coming in to help and the entirety of the military fucking off and occupying south Capitol. And on top of that Antivaro had been taken out, Themelio had fallen apart, and Black Red & White had turned suspicious silent. The political scene was gone, and yet the civil servants that Galix oversaw still had to maintain some semblance of government, to ensure that things were dealt with and carried out. While the absence of political parties meant no more arguing over who got a slice of bread it also meant they were terribly understaffed, had huge holes in their contact networks and virtually no power with the myriad of factions now running around the nation.
It was like trying to manage a wildfire with an empty bucket of water. And even as they talked, people were burning. It made Galix feel totally powerless, and extremely angry.
“Yes sir, I don’t know if we can even procure the food substances needed given shortages across the northern territories. Initial reports I have from only several systems indicate the militarists stripped or destroyed everything they could” The women sighed, she too knew the impossibility of the situation. Galix leant back in his chair, hopelessness plastered across his face.
“Those Garrenist ass lickers have screwed us utterly Fucking hell and how are we supposed to move this through?” He chucked a pen across the desk in frustration. Almost immediately the door opened, a tall woman stepped into the office dressed in the unmistakable get up of the Integral Co-operative, a simple suit of black, red and white. Two Neosoma also stood to either side of her.
“You don’t push it through. We do” She stated like an absolute fact.
“Excuse me?” Galix was uncomfortable and his aide stood up and quickly left the room. The lady who had walked in strode forward and placed her hands on his desk.
“We will do what needs to be done. Thank you for your service to the state State Official Galix, but your efforts are no longer needed. This is the Integral Co-operatives role now” Galix gave a disgusted look.
“This… This is an illegal coup!” He protested. The women shook her head.
“No. This is us saving Capitol. From threats foreign and domestic. It’s an emergency”
----
It took a matter of hours, the totally ineffective and practically non-functional government was rapidly removed and replaced with Integral Co-operative officials and individuals. All was to the plan of the Integrals and mainly Encanda. There was no celebration, no grand speeches and no giant victory march as the IC took over northern Capitol. The designated leaders in their positions rapidly got to work, rebuilding the crumbling governmental connections, and immediately putting into motion actions to ensure the carrying out of direct civil decrees. Practically overnight the government went from a hollow shell to a somewhat manageable mess. This had been planned for many years, a testament to Encanda Strixxs foresight, and while it wasn’t perfect it was at least workable as a foundation.
And yet there were no riots, no anger. The word that the government had been taken out and replaced was practically welcomed by the majority. Immediately people were seeing an uptick in government response, food stocks and shipments were being brought up to speed and workplaces were put into positions where they would be able to function and provide work, and therefore income, to their workforces. Northern Capitol may be in the dark, but the Integral Co-operative had played their cards right, between the work of RBW & the Standard Bearers along with the titanic damage done by the Militarists, the swift coup by the Integral Co-operative and sudden spur into constructive action was practically a blessing.
The majority saw it as a start to something greater at last.
Rubikon System: Rubikon II Socratia - RANGSI Monument ‘The Tower of Miracle’
A few weeks ago, the RANGSI graveyard was an unassuming monument to the fallen soldiers of the 45th, a mish-mash of hastily placed stone markers and rifles planted into the ground with helmets placed on top. As the years passed, they were forgotten, buried under the sands of time.
Then something happened. The ground cracked open and red beams of light emerged from underneath, piercing into the dark grey skies of the war torn world.
Whispers from this graveyard soon reached the ears of the First Sage, who then sent a small detachment of monk-commissars led by Commissar-Lieutenant Ridhuan. All of them were one of the few survivors of the 45th, the first RANGSI psionics, touched and cursed by the Panopticon itself.
Fighting their way through hordes of malevolent apparitions leftover from the war, they eventually reached this tower of red light, where it then spoke to Ridhuan and proclaimed him as its Champion. Ridhuan then disappeared in a blinding flash, but the tower of light continued to illuminate the darkest nights, offering the rest left behind comforting whispers of their former comrades. After much weeping and celebration, this first detachment took to calling it ‘The Tower of Miracle’.
After reporting back to the First Sage, a steady stream of monks and psionics from the Indrayama Sangha arrived to study, meditate and appraise this Tower of Miracle, determined to uncover the secrets, secrets that would indeed have far-reaching consequences on what they knew about the dead, the afterlife and the truth of human ‘souls’.
Even now as the battle raged all around them, the monks of the Sangha continued their steady chanting and meditation around the Tower. The Prajurit Sangha, elite monk-commissars specially selected and trained to guard the Sangha’s monks, formed an outer circle around them, vigilant for any threats.
Rubikon System: Rubikon II Socratia- RSC Defense Line
The Dust Marchers had emplaced themselves ahead of struggling Standard Bearer units as a rally point and anchoring line, and it was from here that they clashed with the rush of the Panopticon’s bastard children. As had been before, T-348s clashed with enemy forces over refueling stations and small settlements in the desert, unleashing hails of fire before pulling back into the chaos, maneuvering and striking to not become pinned.
Missiles from the division’s artillery brigades lit the sky with fire and destruction as the bitter back and forth devolved from a battle of strike and maneuver into a bare knuckle brawl between men and machines and the psychic horrors that should not be. Slowly, bitterly, the Dust Marchers were forced back across the desert plains with inexorable force, though they extracted a hellish toll. Many burning wreckages of both warring forces were left on the field as they went, bodies of Restevians, Capitolites and RANGSI all, but the Dust Marchers fought on.
------
The 91st Krondstant for their first opening moves of the battle did not defend, and instead counterattacked. The objective of the walking dead in those first hellish, frenetic hours was the Kholm Prizrakov, the Hill of Ghosts where the memorial to the Walking Dead of old had once stood. If nothing else it was a symbolic objective, to show the AOTP that no matter what they did, they would not break their spirit. With the aid of the Monk-Commissars and with names that would become legend they took the hill in the first seven hours, and left the ground thickly lain with the dead. The memorial was destroyed as they had unspoken expected it would be, but the Restevians nevertheless planted their banner there before the approach of further enemy forces forced them to pull back.
The veterans who had once battled upon this cursed earth among the walking dead led their brothers and sisters by example in the hellish hours that followed, cutting down AOTP soldiers and monsters by any means available to them, spearheading push, counterpush, watering the thirsty earth of Rubikon II with lifeblood, theirs and that of their enemy with the near fearless, brutal determination for which the 91st was famed, and feared. Many among them stood to rally Standard Bearers to the fight once again, even if they were Capitolites, there was no difference between them, not right now. Rifles chattered, cannons roared, blades of Restevia and psionic monks hacked and slashed, and the 91st gave as good as they got, every inch purchased from them purchased with a grim, grim bill.
Sorfosa General Hospital Bel Thano Capitol Space
"You are exceedingly slow" was the first thing Encanda said upon waking up, still on the surgery bed.
The body of the General Integral had been lagging behind her willpower until it finally broke. In the early hours of the morning, the centennial woman had suffered a stroke, blacking out before she even hit the floor and broke a knee and her hip. Her doctor had to practically fight the Neosoma to be allowed to put Encanda under general anaesthesia to carry out an urgent cerebral surgery. Encanda's bodyguards carried out their leader's orders to the letter and accepted only under the condition that she be given no recovery and woken up as soon as the surgery was finished to go back to work.
"Blood pressure stable, all software is nominal." Encanda heard a nurse say. "Cognition looks clean."
"Welcome back, General Integral Strix." The head surgeon peeked into the toroidal surgery robot whose sharp appendages were only just beginning to retract away from Encanda's head.
"Did it work?" She asked, still blind in one eye, looking past the doctor to see her chief of staff in the surgery room with her.
"Black-Red-White unanimously voted to make Ioannis Tzaferis the President of the Capitol Republic." Her chief dutifully informed. His monotonous and unpretentious voice was the first thing that assuaged Encanda in weeks. It was almost like her mental safe space, as long as he kept talking and giving her things to think about and decide on everything else seemed to fade away including the pain from her fragile body. "Parliament has declared a state of emergency and invested the Integral Cooperative with special powers. We've seized control of the remaining military and are working our way through the purge lists."
"Good. Onto the next point..." The second thing Encanda noticed was that she felt pretty comfortable in the bed, which made her uncomfortable. She looked under the sheets and saw that she was wearing a hospital gown, which meant that the medics had wasted time changing her out of her heavy suit and bathing her. But upon raising her gaze to address the surgeon she noticed the true abomination: Ioannis was in the room with her too, instead of in Parliament where she wanted him. Maybe it was the lingering sedatives or the stroke had changed her but for once she felt too tired to get angry at him, and spoke with a tone of motherly curiosity rather than disappointment.
"What are you doing here?"
"I came to see my General Integral." He replied, standing up at attention then walking closer to her. "I was informed she required medical attention."
"Shouldn't you be at work?" Encanda started sounding angry now, the stroke had definitely not changed her.
"I am at work." Ioannis replied. "As the party chairman of Black-Red-White and a member of the National Conference, one of my duties is to present awards to those who have been wounded in the frontline. And seeing how the Four Daggers Army made it within five blocks of this building, I consider it to be the frontline. Thank you for your service, Encanda Strix."
He leaned forwards to pin a medal to Encanda's hospital gown then paused for a moment then added: "I came to see you because I was worried about you."
"Well..." Encanda was a bit speechless for a moment. As far as excuses to waste time went, Ioannis had just crafted a masterpiece for her and she couldn't help but admire her protégé's skills. That's what he was best at, coming up with everything on the spot and playing to everybody's sense of belonging to a greater cause. She couldn't have asked for a better public face for her program, always out in the political quagmire and in front of the media; it was largely thanks to him that Encanda rarely needed to worry about journalists or the public eye: Ioannis was always out there basking in the limelight and facilitating her more technical work.
"Thank you, President Tzaferis." Encanda said. "Dismissed."
Tzaferis saluted but did not leave before at least sharing his worries with the General Integral. 'I think you should get some rest' would probably get him shot so he thought of a nicer way to word it:
"You look like shit."
"Capitol looks like shit." Encanda retorted immediately. "But neither you or I believe it will be like that forever. We have the program and we have faith in it. Please extend that faith to my ability to handle personal affairs. I will get some rest. But not before getting one last bit of work done."
"What might that be?"
"As General Integral I am abolishing the position of Black-Red-White party chairman and ordering you to abolish the office of the President of the Capitol Republic. Call the National Assembly and tell them them I expect them to vote for it. In thirty minutes time you should have renounced both those titles to the media."
"What will be my position then, General Integral?"
"You are Ioannis Tzaferis, President of the Capitol National Mandate and General Integral of the Parlamentarian."
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Post by EmperorMyric on Jul 31, 2021 16:24:50 GMT
Bel Thano System: Capitol Space
“So that’s it?”
“That’s its Captain Andreas. Those are my orders, to assist your forces in redeploying to the Faylar and Ession system. You have my full word all other Republican Guard units and your materials from Querran will also be redeployed to those systems” Andreas stayed into thin air; his head abuzz with emotion. On the one hand he knew this had been coming. They had won against the enemy and now that the government had been successfully replaced that was it, there was no more room for the progressives like Themelio and the Republican Guard. On the other he had honestly expected the Integral Co-operative to just start shooting them.
Then again, they likely didn’t have the forces to do so, and it would be horrendous for PR. The Republican Guard had helped them save Northern Capitol, and many Standard Bearer units respected the units too. Ordering them to dispose of their quite heavily armed comrades was a mistake. So, the choice was clear.
Escort them into Exile.
Andreas took a deep breath. He had hoped, honestly hoped, to help avoid this mess, to assist Capitol into a new age of progressiveness and democracy. But it had been taken from them, it was not to be. Now he would be sent to far off systems and likely be a world apart from the rest of Capitol. It was not all bad, perhaps they could build their own small progressive nation.
“I understand then. My units are already embarking ready to be redeployed. If anyone else had told me this I would have never believed them, but you have my respect General Asha. I believe you. I know this is effectively exile but it is far better than the alternative” The General nodded.
“I can tell you now Captain I would never have accepted orders to fire on comrades. I truly hope you and your forces can help forge a new home for those who are being relocated. Perhaps one day we will fight alongside each other again. Until then, I will be waiting for your withdrawal” She saluted, and Andreas stood from his small, damaged desk to salute back.
“Thank you General” As she exited the room Andreas steadied himself on the desk. And allowed himself a moment of emotion for his idealistic failure to save his nation.
Ventra System: Capitol Space
“Go? What are you talkin’ about you stupid sod”
“We are moving the entire base to a more secure region; you and your families will be also coming with us so we can properly cater for you” The man replied straight away. The situation was tense, Ventra had always been a calm and collected agricultural world with several military bases. But now the military was coming to relocate much of the population, the majority of which were ‘Brutes’. The huge individuals which packed the town square area were monstrous in size and weight and they scratched their heads or looked to each other with beady eyes. The line of soldiers in front of them along with a few vehicles had rolled up and demanded they all come with them.
“We aint abandoning our homes. This is where we live, we cater to ourselves you stuck up bastard” The individual at the head of the town was a truly large brute by the name of ‘Davis’. And he pointed a huge finger at the man at the front of the line “Don’t think I’m stupid short arse I know that uniform your wearin’ is a Commissar one, and those don’t exist anymore”
“Fortunately they now do. There have been large reformations in the armed forces and the government. Now, we will be relocating you all to south Capitol in order to properly cater to your needs, I require you all to gather your belongings a-“
“South fackin Capitol!” One of them shouted aloud, almost immediately the Commsisars voice was drowned out by jeering and shouting.
“I aint goin to that shit hole!” Shouted one.
“Their all dog shaggers!”
“Please! Calm down it is for your own well being” The Commissar shouted more sternly. This time Davis took a step forward towering over the man. Instantly the other soldiers raised their guns, causing the Brutes to pull out sledgehammers, baseball bats and large rocks from under various pieces of clothing.
“You listen here you piece of shit. We aint goin’ anywhere ‘specially not souf fucking Capitol. We know what your kind is like, you drove us as slaves for decades. No more now fuck off!” The Commissar went to pull his firearm but Davis despite his size was faster. He punched the Commissar in the chest full force, the mans rib cage utterly crushed in the moment. With a guttural roar the Brutes charged, picking up the Militarist soldiers like toys and smashing them to pieces.
“This is our time now! Brothers, Sisters! The north forever! Let’s drive these bastards off our world!” The roars and cheers of agreement were only the beginning. Within hours Militarist forces were being overrun and the nation of Venchester would begin to become a reality.
Rubikon System: Rubikon II Socratia - RANGSI Defence Line
“Get away! Get away from me!” a Standard-Bearer unloaded his entire clip into the ‘Nightmare’ in front of her. The rifle fire passed through the black smoke effortlessly, and the shadowy humanoid extended his arms, golden strands wriggling about.
Panopticon…
We have seen the light…
So shall you too.
The man froze up in horror, dropping his gun, screaming as he tore out the hairs in his head in a fit of insanity and unreasonable terror. But just as the Panopticon Nightmare was about to finish him off, it suddenly stopped, trembling as one of its appendages was an inch away from the Standard-Bearer’s forehead.
Our terror.
Our anchor.
Our illegitimate father.
Panopticon.
It was clear this was not the Nightmare’s own voice. The Nightmare turned around to face its new challenger. A RANGSI monk-commissar had her hands outstretched, her eyes glowing golden yellow, it was clear she was keeping it in place with a psionic mental attack.
Imposter. (Imposter).
We are the true Gatekeepers of the Eternal Panopticon.
You are merely a bastard. (A bastard).
Cursed. (Cursed.)
Unworthy of its Gifts. (Its Gifts!)
With a burst of psionic energy, the Nightmare freed itself from the monk-commissar’s astral grasp and attacked her with summoned apparitions.
The monk-commissar readied her katana, channeling her psionic energies into its glowing blade.
Praises and Praises to Mazazel!
Icon of Vengeance and Destroyer of Foes!
Grant me your rage and hatred!
And help me smite the enemy of the Republik!
“Begone! Terror of Panopticon!” she shouted as she launched herself at the Nightmare with a great burst of telekinetic energy, slashing at the apparitions and the golden strings that tied them to this plane of reality. She then leapt upwards, landed behind the Nightmare, and with one final thrust, stabbed her katana into the Nightmare.
I see the light… (the light)
Receive me… (receive me)
Panopticon…
The Nightmare soon went limp, and slowly dissipated away, leaving only the monk-commissar and the shivering Standard-Bearer on the ground. Elsewhere, other RANGSI monk-commissars like her were leaping into trenches and straight into the fighting - deflecting away bullets with telekinetic shields, trying to heal the minds of those affected by the AOTP’s psionic attacks and removing fear and panic from nearby troops AGA and Capitol alike.
Socratia Triangle Rubikon II Capitol Space
Overcoming the instinct for self-preservation was the most taxing test of the Army of The Synopticon’s psychic puppeteers. To make a man knowingly walk to his death while trapped as a passenger in his own body activated every mental defense and latent psychic power in a desperate attempt to regain control so the Liminal watchmen had to walk relatively close behind their thralls. But to march hundreds of people at once to certain death in a suicide action was an action which required a whole new degree of psychic mastery, so Eraserhead was put in charge of it.
The Army of The Synopticon was a far cry from the massive combined arms army that had fought AGA over a decade and a half ago. They were a huge but lightly-armed rabble, a truck-mobile horde of irregular infantry armed with whatever scraps the Army of The Panopticon had managed to smuggle into Rubikon II and captured weaponry. The bulk of its strength was made up of mind-slaves, people who either had their neural implants hijacked or who were being directly controlled by the Liminal watchmen in squads. But among the masses of terrified and hapless civilians who fought for the Synopticon there were also people who fought of their own accord. Believers in the Panopticon who had kept the faith and waited for the return of the Army, these cultists formed the fanatical backbone of Eraserhead’s field strength. They were the cruelest, too, carrying out war crimes and inflicting suffering on enemy militants and civilians alike to prove their worth to the Army; these terroristic hanger-ons were in large part responsible for the desecration of war monuments and graves.
But for all their fanaticism, when confronted to Restevian machineguns they broke their advance just the same.
“Take my fear! Take my fear!” Voices clamored in a furor from the crowd of huddled Synopticon cultists. “Purify me, commander! Open my eyes!”
“The fear is false! I swear, commander!” Another cultist yelled in tears. “Just give me another opportunity, let me understand it!”
The fear was very much real. The site of the stalled offensive was not unlike depictions of hell: dark, damp and with mutilated bodies shuffling and wandering aimlessly under the harsh light of large illumination flares. Shadows of men and weapons danced on the concrete columns of a collapsed highway intersection, bayonetting and beating each other to death. The bodies of cultists and liminal watchmen hung from razor wire perimeters, moaning and twitching with whatever energy they had left. The thralls of the dead watchmen now simply wandered the battlefield in a shellshocked stupor.
There had already been two attempts at storming the highway intersection, and both had been repelled by the Restevian defenders. The local division of the Synopticon was now a full day behind the advance and leaving the flanks of its neighbors dangerously exposed. Any more overextension and the neighboring divisions would have to halt their advance and move to more defensible positions, which risked breaking up a whole front. The third offensive absolutely had to succeed, and so Eraserhead took to the field herself.
“Lead me, take me to the front! Control me!” Another one shouted.
Truth to be told they were all paralysed by fear and she could sense it. They were just begging her to take control to not expose themselves as cowards in the Army of The Synopticon. Up to the knees in the rainy mud, every step Eraserhead took brought forth ephemeral glimpses of her personal retinue: spectral troopers hanging a few feet in the air, weightlessly held up by golden strings and fading back to nothing once their master took her next step.
“Why is the advance halted?” Eraserhead asked, approaching the local commanders, a group of liminal watchmen who had set up shop. with every step, more of her ghostly escort appeared to surround the liminal watchmen.
With a pair of binoculars she observed the place where the breakthrough was supposed to take place: a truck loaded with chemical agents which had been driven deep into enemy lines but not detonated. Heavy fires by the Agia Falanga’s handful of air assets had kept the Restevians pinned in their positions, but the truck remained unused.
“Our apologies, sister! We managed to break through their outer perimeter but there were Restevian machineguns expecting us. The thralls are fatigued and becoming difficult to control.”
“Fatigued? They are thralls.” Eraserhead idly waved her hand in circles, evoking a response from the floating golden strings that gathered around her. “Elder Alesso said that there should be a breakthrough in this position by now, to be halted is to blaspheme that order, brother.”
“Sister I believe if there were more Watchmen and less thralls in this unit we could retain control more easily.” The watchman meekly suggested as Eraserhead kept waving her hand, fingers extended, swirling more and more spectral strings around her forearm. “But we’d need to compensate by getting additional fire support!”
“Elder Alesso gave this operation exactly the amount of men and fire support it needed to succeed, neither you nor I are allowed to start second-guessing him.”
“My apologies, it’s just tha-” The Liminal Watchman started replying, but his words were cut short. With a sharp pulling motion, Eraserhead closed her fist causing all of the strings to go taut.
Overcoming the instinct of self-preservation was the most taxing task for the Liminal Watchmen, but Eraserhead was not one. With a second pull on the strings her bodyguards materialized fully, and the hesitating Watchman in front of her immediately rose up and formed in perfect ranks alongside the rest of the quivering Synopticon cultists and lost thralls. This unit had failed the Army of The Panopticon, and the only fate for such units was to be fed into the enemy to buy the Agia Falanga some time. It wasn’t just the Watchmen and thralls that assembled under Eraserhead’s command. Along them were also the wounded from the nearby medical station, forced on their feet by the ethereal strings and giving pained moans with each step they were forced to take on amputated stumps and broken kneecaps. Complete panic gripped the minds of the Synopticon cultists and watchmen once they found themselves as mere passengers inside their own bodies and dispatched to storm the position that had already repelled them twice.
Instinct took over and Eraserhead’s army of mindslaves, including the psionically-enhanced Watchmen, fought as hard as possible to free themselves from her grasp. But the desperate psychic screaming and thrashing of two hundred and fifty men were not enough to break the concentration of a Child of Avalon. She was used to it, ever since she’d gained awareness her mind had always been filled with prisoners howling to get out, and she’d always done the same: erase them.
The assault took place along an unexpected axis. Rather than taking the direct route, Eraserhead’s horde went on a longer sprint around the flank of the highway intersection and rather than going for the truck directly they stormed one of the abandoned trenches the Restevians had occupied. This was in view of one of the Restevian machinegunners and dozens were hit, but Eraserhead’s soldiers didn’t fall. Bullets shattered bone and blew limbs off, but the puppeteer of the army managed to telekinetically hold their bodies together and keep them marching and firing back. Only those who had been completely riddled into an unrecognizable pile of human shreds were finally discarded by Eraserhead while her retinue of shadow troopers drew fire and scouted out positions.
Once she finally vaulted over into the Restevian trench, she found the hallucination of a familiar person standing still amongst the landscape of dead and dying Restevians. A small figure draped in a heavy waterproof cloak bearing the insignia of the Army of The Panopticon, holding an antenna with an eerie red glow and flanked by two indescribable mutilations of the Skia species.
“Sister Eraserhead.” The little girl spoke. “Elder Alesso says that the Army of The Synopticon is having trouble all over the battlefield and that the foreigners are reinforcing much faster than he thought. Three more offensives have stalled.” She spoke in a kind of meandering manner, as if she’d just memorised and rehearsed what she said without understanding it.
“Understood. Does Elder Alesso require me elsewhere?” Eraserhead asked, with a flick of her wrist that caused more golden strands to begin leaking out of her fingertips in fluid masses.
“No, Elder Alesso says you are doing good here.” The younger child replied. “Finish what you are doing, but he says since it’s my first operation you should assist me in the north once you’re done.”
“North? Where did Elder Alesso dispatch you?”
“Site 491. Elder Alesso says there are many people trapped there who can become thralls. I think the Falanga will handle the first part of the assault but… to tell you the truth the second part kind of frightens me.”
“I will be here for the rest of the day. Will assist you if I’m available.”
“Thank you, sister Eraserhead.”
“Have luck, sister Scarlet.”
Once the forms of Scarlet and her two nightmarish bodyguards had faded from Eraserhead’s perception, she pulled on the strings that had just finished uncoiling from her fingers. This time, it wasn’t the Synopticon cultists answering her orders. Covered in a dried crust of blood and mud, swarmed by flies and maggots, a section of the Restevian 91st Kronsdadt divisions rose up to the sound of pained grunts as synapse flooded through their brains once again. They grabbed their guns and cleared the mud from the actions, driven by the strings, but in the minds of the reanimated soldiers a horror took place: after having been dead for many hours many of them had completely lost cognitive ability from oxygen deprivation. They were vegetables who didn’t know who they were, they didn’t know what was happening around them and couldn’t recognize objects; everything was just an abstract haze of nightmarish shifting shapes. Being psychically linked with the massively damaged minds of the reanimated Restevians broke the souls of every other thrall under Eraserhead’s command, but she herself kept firm.
“Live up to your names.” Eraserhead ordered, and the Walking Dead machinegunners turned their guns around to provide suppressive fire for the next leg of the Synopticon’s advance.
The various groups took turns providing covering fires and leap-frogging each other ever closer to Eraserhead’s objective: the tanker truck full of chemical weapons. With the wind blowing in favorable conditions, the young scion of the Panopticon spent the bodies of her undead troops in a steady manner, aiming to get Alesso’s attack back up and running with the undead ranks of the Restevian Walking Dead swelling the numbers.
Kalaras System: Southern Capitol Space
Klark Vakacian was tired. Although that was an understatement, he was exhausted.
The holds of the transport ships had been packed, racks upon racks of bunk beds and unsanitary makeshift facilities had been erected to take the vessels capacity nearly 5 times higher than its designed limits. So many bodies in one place had been horrific and the life support systems had struggled massively. The stench of sweat, the unbearable heat and the constant harassment by the new Commissars had made it so Klark had hardly slept or rested at all.
And yet now they were at their destination, wherever that was. The Commisars had come down to the holds and shouted, screamed for the soldiers to be fully uniformed and ready for inspection before their landing. And they had. Klark had heard gunshots in the hold, clearly, they were not fucking around. It was almost like the old days…
No. It couldn’t be like that could it?
The soldiers had no idea where they were going, there were men here from across all Northern Capitol and Klark had heard the same stories. Men, equipment, and material being rapidly taken or destroyed with no explanation. Just orders.
Now he was lined up with all the other men as the huge bulk hauled landed. Clearly, they were now planetside, the motion of re-entry had not been easy and many had fallen over trying to stand in line. There were a few minutes of silence before the huge whining motors of the ramp spooled up, the first cracks of natural light spilled in causing soldiers to wince or look away. Concrete was all Klark could see as the Commissar and commanders called for rank march. He moved, drilled endlessly he knew the left, right, left as easy as he knew breathing and as one huge formation the thousands of men came out from the transport on mass. But Klark could see they were not alone.
At least 7 other transports lined up were doing the same. Orders were shouted to get into formation, only now were Klarks eyes fully adjusting to the bright sun revealing a huge concrete mustering ground surrounded by military buildings. In front of them a large, raised area with a podium. Nobody said anything, not wanting to risk the Commissars wrath, and so the exhausted and abused men ranked up as they were ordered. Tens of thousands of men lined up below the gaze of Commissars and commanders. What the men didn’t know, was that this was one of hundreds of such mustering grounds. A truly momentous moment. Klark stood there at attention for what felt like an hour, the heat was tough and being exhausted he saw some men collapse, only to be beaten by the officers and forced to stand up or dragged off behind the stand. Followed by the distinctive pistol shot. It then hit Klark.
It was like the old days.
Finally, a commander came to the podium and smiled. The huge horde of soldiers saluted, and he began to speak.
“Welcome brave and noble souls. You are the true sons and daughters of Capitol. The ones who truly deserve the forge the future. You are here because you are the only one’s worth saving, the ones who will help create the new empire which will inherit once more what it once did. Welcome to Kalmaras, Capital of the south, and new Capital of the Imperial Restorationist Government. Together we will bring the one true Capitol back to reality and in time take our power to the stars once more. No doubt you are worried about your families. Many were brought with us and are being talked to just like you are, others will in time be liberated from the disgusting subhumans of the Integral Co-operative, who have couped the government and taken control of the North. We will see them deposed in time and the Capitol people restored to greatness. All hail Capitol! All hail the Imperialist Regime!” He shouted, saluting.
The cry was echoed by the soldiers, some did not. Klark shouted and saluted, watching those who refused be executed in front of them. He had to survive, he had to make sure Michelle was ok. He would survive this just like he survived Inara.
Rubikon II: Socratia Triangle
Strange unlight rippled across the desert dune, causing one of the Natar Foreign legion to simply drop dead. Amala gritted her teeth and unhooked a grenade from her belt, feeling the servos in her power armour move to assist her she primed it and threw it over the dune, the explosion tossing sand across the whole area. A null thrall stumbled over, both arms reduced to a mess and still trying to fulfil its duty. Amala put a plasma round straight through its torso and peeked over the dune, her forces were holding for now, the Union in this area fighting to defend the open desert plains alongside the Natar Foreign Legion and Standard Bearers. It was ironic, she was fighting alongside Capitol.
A Themis APC moved up to support her and her squad, laying down HMG fire to engage the forces currently pushing against them. So far it had mostly been thrall units using a mixed amount of Capitol gear, but that had changed about half an hour ago when the enemy had begun deploying Nightmares. The RANGSI Monk-Commissars had helped immensely, but there were only so many and they could not be everywhere at once. Just as she thought that another phase trooper raced over the dune to her left, carving a man in half and killing two more before they could react.
Instinctively now Amala traced its golden strings back over the dune and towards the figure of a Liminal watchmen, two more shadow troopers appearing out of thin air from the figures commands as he came. Shouting to engage Amala fired off a burst but the plasma rounds were stopped by thralls jumped into the way, soon after the watchmen obscured himself in a small sandstorm causing her to curse, but a lucky shot from one of the Natar soldiers seemed to find its mark. The golden strings snapping, and the Shadow troopers began to scream.
“Go back to the hell you spawned from!” The soldiers on the ridge cheered, but more inhuman screams followed as a roiling cloud of psychedelic colours rushed in for them. Materialising out of the cacophonic mass came several beings, each immediately made Amala feel fear. They…
They looked like Skia…
The things were a riot of colours, and each had strange machinery that was both biological and mechanical surgically implanted into their forms. A head unit of countless eyes seemed to direct them as they spasmed and moved with erratic form. In several seconds the line had gone from secure to on the brink. Blood flowed as the strange Skia things sliced there way through the line, one tearing the Themis apart in an instant. Amala felt shock but the warm glow of a Monk-Commissar came forward.
*“Spawn of the Panopticon. Begone!”* The women glowed red as she began to battle the psychedelic beings, but even she was struggling, holding them in an embrace several nearby soldiers began shooting, one of the creatures came apart in a burst of energy as the harness built into it was destroyed. But soon enough the Thrall soldiers cleared the dune, and Amala was having to focus on killing them.
“By the dead that sleep here, I cannot hold them” The monk roared, the beings inching ever closer until one reached out and with one slice the monks left arm was reduced to a bleeding stump. Roaring still in pain and clearly about to die the Monk laughed.
“Oh beings of darkness and rage I give unto you the gift of vengeance, for those who would seek to imitate your sacred form”
Above the monk Amala could see something else materialise as a trio of Skia descended into the fray, Thrall soldiers were eviscerated in moments as one of the Skia wrapped around the Monk and began to fight the abominations she had held at bay. With one last effort she held them in place as they were torn apart, the women then falling to her knees. Amala ran over to try administering first aid but the psion had lost too much blood.
”We will remember you” The ethereal voice of the Skia was a strange comfort, Amala was unsure how it ever could be. But the dying monk seemed to smile.
“Save our brothers, stop the evil here, be…” She coughed blood “Be the herald of the Lights…”
Rubikon System: Rubikon II Socratia - RANGSI Monument ‘The Tower of Miracle’
The line was holding.
Abominations and thralls fought to fanatical levels as the combined forces managed to hold back the Army of the Synopticon, casualties were staggering but the line was holding, that was all that mattered. But there were two critical zones which were being focused more than any others, the 91st Walking Dead and the Tower of Miracle.
The Tower of Miracle was anywhere from a conventional warzone. Psionic fire and light flashed around in a storm of anger as the Commissar-Monks waged psionic warfare on the thrall hordes, watchmen and Nightmares that came for them. A group dodged and weaved trying to dissect an Abyssal Golem, its horrifying form claiming two of their number before it was finally torn apart. A smattering of conventional forces supported the area, but it was simply not enough.
Not even the presence of the Union Skia was enough to turn the tide completely, the mutilated Skia things that the Panopticon had summoned fought with their true bothers in the skies as the very earth itself shattered from the elemental forces being manipulated. All the while the graves of the soldier shined with their red light, but there was clearly a reason the attack was here. A large conclave of Psionic Mediums approached ever closer to the graves, their bodies linked by the golden strings and their powers enough to shatter those that attempted to approach. Under the cover of gunfire and with a swarm of Skia things and Shadow troopers to guard them the conclave began its ritual. They were here for reinforcements.
For the RANGSI dead.
The Commissar-Monks knew the threat and rushed to stop them, a psionic battle of wills was fought as much as any physical fight and the very air itself seemed to shimmer with the energies being unleashed. The psionically linked Conclave moved in harmony, shattering monks with motions of their hands or deflecting psionic blasts with a simple step of their legs. It was like a dance routine, and the red glowing light of the grave began to change, becoming ever more orange and golden.
If they managed to turn the RANGSI dead against them and break through the line here, all of the allied hard would was over.
Abandoning the aerial fight the Skia descended rapidly, while the Monks fought the Conclave the ethereal creatures formed their own, few in number several sacrificed themselves. Standing in defence of their brethren they threw themselves into the mutilated abominations being torn apart even as they hacked and killed, anything to buy more time. The remaining Skia came together, the Monks seemingly to instinctively cover them, keeping psionic attacks clear. The Skia then seemed to merge, their dark forms congealing and their crystalline eyes moulding together, within a few heartbeats the battlefield went silent. The pounding of guns, the screams of nightmares and the explosions of psionic fury all went silent, then with a collective alien sight almost like a last breath the Skia disappeared, and a bright, blinding light bathed the area. Endless colours washed over the area, the Commissar-Monks hunkering down as they shielded their eyes and shouted for their comrades to do the same.
As the psychedelic light drowned out all else the forces of the Synopticon screamed. Nightmares had their strings cut and were banished, thralls merely dropped dead limp as their threads snapped and the watchmen who oversaw them all went insane. Dropping to their knees screaming the clawed their own eyes out at the light or shot themselves within moments. The Conclave as one gave an inhuman and perfectly synchronised scream, their nightmare guards dissipating into nothingness as they all dropped dead. In one fell moment the attack was over, and the enemy had been decimated.
The light disappeared a few moments after.
The Skia were gone, and the grave had been saved.
Sorfosa General Hospital Bel Thano Capitol Space
It had been so much time since Encanda had last slept that once she finally drifted off, her mind instinctually got on a state of alert and gave her nightmares. The General Integral slept and dreamed a terrible dream: that she slept. She dreamt she slept for hours upon hours and when she woke up she realized she had a lot of work to catch up to. She would carry out the day's work but then the dream would fall apart and she would find herself back at the beginning, sleeping soundly. Each time she woke up later and later, being angrier at herself and dreading the workload that was building up. It kept getting longer: she dreamt she slept through a whole day, then two, then the entire battle of Rubikon.
She dreamt that she woke up to the National Assembly huddled around her asking for directions and reporting terrible defeats. With every loop of the dream she dreamt of being told that the Army of The Synopticon had taken over Socratia, then Rubikon II, then the entire system. After the twelfth iteration she woke up and the National Assembly was nowhere to be found, only a few tearful soldiers begging for her leadership. Then after that she woke up to the eager bayonets of a squad from the Twelve Daggers Army, then monsters of the Panopticon, then savages from Freikorps Herakles... then Inara's ISS commissars, then Herakles' brutes. It did not stop there.
She woke up over and over again until she was once again a young, frail, asthmatic piece of chattel property being struck awake by the truncheon of the slaver.
"Answer the fucking phone!" The slaver barked, waving the truncheon for a second strike. The young managing consultant's eyes immediately darted towards the scariest thing in the room: the computer screen showing 2 missed calls.
"I'm sorry! I..." Encanda looked at the papers on the desk she was sleeping on. Inch-thick folders of animated paper overflowing with spreadsheets and unfinished calculations. Her gaze jittered all over the screen-paper trying to find exactly where she'd left off but it was as if the numbers and formula dodged out of the way of her stare, guiding her eye towards the top of the sheet where the taunting stare of an eagle-shaped logo gazed back at Encanda, clutching in its claws the name of her owner: 'Etaireía ARPEI'. "I fell asleep!"
"You know what? I'm not even going to hit you." The slaver eased off of his striking stance. "But I'm going to cave in the skull of whoever was it that demanded I put subhumans in management positions. I don't give a fuck about what corporate thinks, they're trying to sink my department with this shit! You should be in the mines!"
Encanda clutched her hands and curled up on her seat. She fought it as hard as she could but she ended up hyperventilating and in an instant it was as if a hand much more terrifying than the slaver's was firmly clutched around her neck. Her mind immediately went to the inhaler on her drawer but her body refused to open it and attract the ire of the slaver again. For now he seemed to be more angry at corporate than at her and she wanted to keep it that way no matter the cost. Not even when her vision started fading out and she felt the strength leave her body. She didn't want to react and get hurt, getting hurt meant less work done, and work was what kept her free.
The General Integral was finally and truthfully woken up by the accelerated sound of the heart monitor near her bed after having slept three hours. It was a true moment of bliss, and she vowed not to go back to sleep. For the rest of the night, she kept herself active by trying something new: writing a speech.
Socratia Triangle Rubikon II Capitol Space
Alesso stared down at the myriad of corpses in front of him. Each wore the distinctive uniform of the Commissar-Monks from RANGSI, each had different causes of death and he ran his eyes up and down each one.
“Take them back to Lost Star, full procedure this time. I want all of the details as soon as you are able, don’t bother keeping them, use all of them” He waved a hand and turned to the girl next to him.
“Elder Alesso.”
“Sister Scarlet. I am sure you felt it as well.” Alesso removed one of his white gloves from his right hand and held it up in the air, feeling the currents he could feel all of it. All the ebb and flow of the Psion field in the area, how far they had come. And yet they were out of time.
“I did. The 14th and 65th are totally destroyed. The northern areas are no longer viable for advance, Sister Eraserhead is still locked in combat against the Walking Dead. All other fronts are halted” The young girls face was totally impassive as Alesso nodded, carefully putting his glove back on.
“A shame. No doubt the allies will be mustering more forces to bring here. At the current point in time” He looked down at a broken wristwatch for a few moments “Even if we do achieve a full breakthrough the gains will not be enough before the enemy reinforces. The loss of the North merely has accelerated this timescale. General Laikos will be disappointed but the gains we have made will be sufficient to placate him” Scarlet did not reply as Alesso finally turned away from his broken timepiece. Turning to the man on his left he began to speak.
“Order a total withdrawal. I want all Panopticon elements to evacuate. Synopticon units which have proven their capabilities this day will then follow. All thrall elements, and Synopticon units which have not performed admirably are tasked with holding the foe until our withdraw is complete. Ready the conclaves, evacuation by space is no longer possible”
“Sister Scarlet” Alesso then turned once more to the young girl “Retrieve Sister Eraserhead. Her unit is to remain and hold the line, but she is not to stay with them. Return to me immediately and assist in the conclave”
“Yes Elder Alesso” Scarlet then seemed to turn into black mist and disappear.
-----
All across the line the allied forces began to watch as key elements withdrew, in places entire units seemed to rapidly fall back. It would be the perfect time to counterattack but the allied forces were spent as it was. The QRF units even from the Union, RANGSI and RSC were spent, massive casualties were already reported, and they simply did not have the forces to push to stop them on mass. Several harassing units were deployed, but their efforts were minimal. The main focus was to destroy the Thrall units which still fought alongside the remaining Synopticon forces, despite now being alone the units seemed to either fight to the very end or crumble immediately. Their commanders crying to the air and screaming for forgiveness. Little prisoners were taken as abominations were destroyed and watchmen executed on the spot.
While the Natar Foreign Legion and Divizione Azure had gotten off fairly lightly thanks to their much smaller deployments they too had taken a beating alongside the allied forces, but it was the Standard Bearers which had suffered most. Standard Bearer Socratia ceased to exist as a unit, only a few hundred survivors had managed to pull through the conflict and the Republican Guard forces which had originally deployed had all but been wiped out.
The AOTP forces were withdrawing, but the cost of victory was massive. They had not just desecrated graves and monuments, but whole towns and cities in which they had overrun were empty, the buildings were mostly untouched but there were no bodies. All had been turned into Thralls or taken for whatever nightmarish fate awaited them. Socratia had only just recovered from the first invasion, it would likely never recover from this one.
Commissar-Monks reported massive spikes of energy in the regions where the AOTP had set up their FOBs, orbital recon pointed to the unexplained disappearance of entire units. The AOTP was simply disappearing. None of their fleet assets were moving in to evacuate their forces, and ever since they had lost orbital superiority the AOTP fleet of heavily modified Mk.3 Capitol ships had scattered, splitting into ones and twos to FTL off in random directions. They would not allow themselves to simply be caught or lead the allies back to wherever they were going.
As allied forces moved in to retake the territory held by their foes, they found nothing. Equipment and enemy forces were all gone as if disappeared into thin air. Even the FOBs were stripped, the only remains being the makeshift concrete platforms that were even now being retaken by the sand dunes.
As mysteriously as the Army of the Panopticon had invaded, they had left.
Rubikon was won, but at what cost.
KN Apeiron Interstellar Space Capitol National Mandate
The top echelons of the Integral Cooperative had grown habituated over the years to the rather loud tapping of Encanda’s heavy wooden cane on the floor whenever she moved around. It always served as a signal for everyone to tidy up and get back to work to please the General Integral, so everyone was quite surprised when she was silently rolled in on a wheelchair into the conference room and found much of the National Conference’s staff distracted by celebration. As soon as the first staffer noticed who had arrived into the room the entire place went dead silent and glasses of wine immediately stopped being filled, spilling on the table from surprise.
There was certainly a reason to celebrate. A disaster of unimaginable proportions had been averted with the retreat of the Army of The Panopticon forces from Rubikon II and the Socratia Triangle. What remained of the army in North Capitol was now reliably under the National Mandate’s command, having purged disloyal elements from their ranks. The insurgent offensive on the four capitals had been repelled, inflicting losses that the groups would take years to recover from. Tzaferis’ vote had passed without incident and now Black-Red-White was fully in control of the state. Encanda and the National Assembly had stayed in the Integral Cooperative headquarters in Bel Thano during the whole ordeal, projecting the image of strength that Encanda needed at the critical moment. Now that the FDA attack had been pushed nearly 50 kilometers back to its point of origin, the National Assembly immediately boarded their command craft and bolted it to Bel Thano, receiving reports of positive developments and victories all the way.
But none of that meant they could celebrate, especially not when Encanda was wheeled in the company of her huge Neosoma bodyguards.
“Those who want to keep celebrating, please continue in another room”. Encanda said calmly, unfolding a little table from her armrest to place a small booklet there. “Those who want to be reprimanded stay”
Being given the choice, for the first time in ages, had a weird effect upon the assembled staff of the National Conference, and they all chose to stay. Encanda methodically opened the booklet and flicked the pages all the way to where she’d written her nightly speech. She didn’t even hide the fact that she was reading a prepared speech, knowing that there was nothing more unnatural than her trying to speak off the cuff. That was Ioannis’ thing.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the National Assembly, it is with great pride that I congratulate you all from both the office of the General Integral as well as personally. Your actions have allowed us to carry the day and reduced casualties as much as possible.”
She spoke with such a monotone that one would believe she barely cared were it not for the fact that it was just how she spoke all the time. A modest round of applause received her speech and she turned the page, adjusting her glasses with a nod.
“But I want everyone present to understand very clearly what just happened. No victory was scored, what we just did was prevent a collapse. And in preventing that collapsed we have committed a sin against our nation, one of such magnitude that not even the Inarist regime ever stooped so low. I want you to look at the map and know that it is us that mutilated our dear nation and lost the South. We were caught wrong-footed and paid the price, and I want everyone to be reminded of that with the new name of our dear homeland.
The Capitol National Mandate is not a country or a government. It is what the name says: an order. An order for me, the National Assembly, Black-Red-White and the whole of the Integral Cooperative which shall be obeyed no matter what it takes: Rebuild our nation. An order to wipe the stain on our soul that is the existence of the Imperial Restoration Government and all the other parasites infected what we promised to protect.
And like the stain of any sin, there is only one means of redemption: work. The ODK and the rest of the bandits are probably celebrating too right now, so let us go back to our duties and pry every possible second of head-start from our enemies. To start our long road to redemption and to mourn our fallen brothers and sisters, let us get back to work. Please do not applaud.”
A few claps came from some of the younger staffers who would surely be getting a dressing-down soon, rapidly cut off by the senior members of the National Assembly. Eager to fulfill the mandate, Encanda wheeled herself with some effort to the head of the table, gazing upon quiet contemplation at the map of her deeds. South Capitol, largely taken over by the Sovereign Court. Millions of companions were likely being purged and herded into camps that very moment. The Integral Cooperative was dismantled from dozens of worlds and facilities from all Big Five conglomerates seized and partitioned between rodent-like sycophants of the ODK Sovereign Court. The only trace of the Integral Cooperative that remained were the Integral Radicals, a group she had long purged from the Cooperative and likely hated her far more than the ODK… but a foothold was a foothold and anything would do. Inarists seized control of two worlds from the still-disorganized Sovereign Court, claiming loyalty to Elana Garren and defying Encanda’s comprehension of how anybody could still be loyal to such a wretched legacy.
The North was any less blighted. An entity calling itself the ‘New Capitol Republic’ taunted her like a tumorous growth in the northeast, unable to be excised due to the lack of organization of the Standard Bearers… and the lack of will. Standard-Bearers and Neosoma alike had fought shoulder-to-shoulder with the Republican Guard, to order them to remove the Republicans’ budding presence in Ession system would kill what little morale they had left. A far more sinister stain on her map was right below Rubikon: an ominous black hole of information from which nothing but scattered groups of emaciated survivors and distress calls escaped. The Four Daggers Army had triumphed here, and decades of pent-up vengeance was unleashed on the inhabitants of Bestine for every sin of the previous Capitol Empires. Shiploads of weapons and materiel were surely arriving there with each passing minute from the militarists who fought to add fuel to the fire no matter how reprehensible those who they supported were. Near the killing fields of Bestine, another tumor pulsated in North Capitol: Nimban and Shimor, both taken by Freikorps Herakles after the collapse of both the local army and the Standard-Bearers. They were the only contender that had managed to establish itself in both the north and the south, and imagining the rivers of alcohol and blood that were flowing out of their enclaves as the savages partook in the loot and women of their newly-conquered fiefdom made Encanda’s stomach churn. Then there was Venchester, the most recent of the abominations that had declared autonomy in the absolute chaos that followed the militarists’ retreat and the AOTP’s attack. Their successful dismantling of the local militarist network and seizing of many armories’ in a violent planet-spanning stampede gave Encanda some hope they could be re-integrated peacefully, but she could not imagine a being less fitting for her vision of the National Mandate than a brute.
“Onto the next point.” Encanda said, closing the booklet. “I need to know what the situation in Rubikon II is because right now we need AGA out of there immediately or else the population will lynch us. Make no mistake, if they decide to stay it’s over for us.”
“The Integral of the Armed Forces is in talks with them. As far as AGA is concerned we are still on the verge of collapse and they have every reason to stay and increase their presence.” Her chief of staff informed.
“They’re bluffing.” Encanda replied. “Let’s bluff in return. I want the Integral of the Armed Forces to use the New Capitol Republic as a bargaining chip. If they leave Rubikon II immediately then we’ll leave the New Republic alone. Get whatever is available from Standard-Bearer Celefra to feign preparations for an invasion.”
“We’re going to have a hard time convincing anyone we’re capable of invading them, the entire military is depleted.”
“Standard-Bearer Socratia was depleted and still fought to the last. They’ve shown what we can do: honor their sacrifice.” Encanda replied and the rest of the National Assembly nodded in agreement. “Any other urgent issues in Rubikon II?”
“There is a POW problem.” The Integral of Neosoma informed. “After the Army of The Synopticon retreated they left multiple full divisions of thralls behind, mostly civilians who were being mind-controlled. AGA representatives say they’re in bad mental condition and have suffered extensive brain damage but every single hospital in the Socratia Triangle is up to capacity. None of their military hospitals have a way of dealing with this, they’re going to require long-term intensive care. They have hundreds of thousands of them.”
“We will provide the care. Tell AGA to hand the POWs over.” Encanda declared firmly, gesturing to let everyone understand that this was the most important point. “If there are no available hospitals then we will build internment camps which I will personally supervise.
The program has to start immediately: I will rehabilitate those people. They will be the first ones to be cleansed of our sin through Zenithism.”
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