Post by EmperorMyric on Dec 16, 2017 19:13:54 GMT
No portals. No convoy of fleets exiting out of Warp Speed. Not even a Pandimensional Rift. No fanfare or signal heralding the newcomers. If this was an attempt to colonize a system, it would have been a paltry one at best, for the number of forces that had been sent as expedition to start a STABS could only have been described as lacking:
Twelve.
But where numbers lacked anything noteworthy, location more than made up for it.
"Initiating SHEATHES-10 Territory Broadcast," Dante said, wreathed in nuclear plasma.
"Standby," Damien chimed in. While his cousin dyed the superheated gases red with his touch, his presence stained them gold.
Twelve, true, but Twelve hovering above the skies of a sun.
Slow by cosmic standards, with a motion as smooth as the blooming of a flower, a pulsating 'Aura' began to spread from the group at a steady speed. Even against the blindness-inducing glare of the boiling inferno beneath, the 'Aura' was clearly visible. In stark contrast to nuclear haze and a deluge of photons, heat and radiation were glowing specks of many colors that drifted about in a realm of semi-stillness. The 'Aura' that was none other than the Manifestation of SHEATHES-10 Territory pushed back the landscape, like a balloon expanding in turbulent water.
"Territory Broadcast underway," Dante continued, "Monarch Avatars are clear for Manifestation."
A sizable portion of glowing specks that were the tell-tale sign of a SHEATHES Territory froze for a second, then flowed in unison, gathering onto three separate points. There was organization in their implosion. Reddish, bluish, and greenish motes collected with their own kind, never mingling. In a couple blinks of an eye, the particles had formed into three familiar figures. It wasn't that those figures arrived in any way; they were already there the moment their Territory existed in that location.
"Our gratitude," Empress Hecate said, bowing lightly.
"Do not do so," said one of the twelve besides Dante, Damien and Tala.
"Pardon me, Lady Northorn?" The Monarch of Arcana State shrunk back a little at the reprimand.
"Back straight, chin up, gaze strong," instructed the addressed 'Patron', Valeria Northorn, "you're supposed to be the reigning party here. We 'Patrons' are to be respected, yes, but you can respect us without having to carry yourself about like a waitress."
"Apologies, milady," Empress Hecate said, fidgeting, "old habits die hard."
"They'd die quicker if they hadn't been encouraged for over a hundred years," Valeria glared at Dante. The Alpha Boss stifled a mischievous grin; his Manifestation had grown quite fond of being pampered by Subject and Monarch alike, and he'd taken steps to intimidate everyone in SHEATHES-10 to keep the treatment coming.
Valeria spotted the suppressed emotion, and for a moment her fury burned hotter than the vast ocean of stellar fire beneath the group. Sapphire eyes narrowed, light golden hair bristled, and a dainty mouth opened to threaten all sorts of savagery.
"Hey, hey," Damien cut in, "ready to deploy a Solar Rig yet? Those things are always fun to watch unpack."
"In a minute, il mio capo," Emperor Vulcan nodded, smiling at his 'Patron's enthusiasm.
Valeria gave Damien a look that told him she knew that he was partly to blame for the Monarchs' overly-timid attitude around their 'Patrons', but she managed to get her temper under control by this point.
"The Solar Rigs can wait, Vulcan," Empress Gaia said somberly, running her eyes around the surrounding system, "haven't you noticed something off?"
The Emperor of the Machina State followed suit. Like their 'Existence', the 'Senses' of Monarchs were bound to their Territory only. They would be able to see or hear things that were situated outside their Territory the moment such data crossed into their borders, but to perceive anything that wasn't within a place they owned was not part of their design. Granted, trying to hide from a Monarch within their Territory was like trying to hide in front of their 'retinas'. It didn't matter where or what one was using for stealth; the Monarchs were the very 'Time' and 'Space' within their Kingdoms, just as they were it's 'Dimensions' and 'Concepts'. At least, that was the regular scenario.
"Yes, I do," Emperor Vulcan murmured, "but at the same time, I don't."
In seconds, the 'Aura' had covered a country-sized area. At this rate, it would take days for SHEATHES-10 Territory to encompass the nearest planet. Give or take, the farthest fringe worlds would be reached in the space of a few years. Not bad for their 'Patrons' simply standing there. However, therein was the cause for concern: all twelve 'Patrons' working in perfect synchronization with each other could barely manage an expansion rate that one would have effortlessly exceeded anywhere else. Even with the Locking Glyphs placed on the Monarchs, thereby reducing the overall potency of their 'Patrons', their Territory should have been making greater progress. That could only have meant one thing:
As the Monarchs' Territory pushed forward, there was something pushing back.
"This galaxy," Empress Gaia said after a deep breath of seemingly empty vacuum, "it's not normal. But..."
"...But you can't figure out just how abnormal it is? Same here," Dante finished off for her, "and that would be concern number two, no? First up, the rate of Territory Expansion is much lower than our projections, even with the Locking Glyphs factored in. Secondly, the Locking Glyphs prevent anyone of us from figuring out what's special, or wrong, with this galaxy."
"There is a third concern," another 'Patron' spoke up, this one a scruffy-looking, red-haired gentleman sporting a monocle and a top hat, "You've all noticed the reduced Expansion Rate, and the fact that we cannot discern why it's that way, but has anyone noticed something just as troublesome?"
"Your naysaying can some later, Richard," Dante declared grandly, "for now, we conquer unclaimed worlds!"
"I've just run a scan. Those worlds aren't unclaimed."
What was once a dozen smug individuals erupted into a chorus of half-hearted excuses, sheepish laughter, doubtful remarks, and random facepalming, and not all palms involved connected with their proper owners' faces. The Monarchs sighed as their 'Patrons' bickered as to whose fault this embarrassment was.
"My lords and ladies," Emperor Vulcan interrupted, "perhaps nobody is to blame. Our senses have been dulled: my colleagues and I via the Locking Glyphs, and you via the lack of Expenditures we can invest in your Manifestations. My theory is that the Locking Glyphs prevent us from scanning or properly analyzing this galaxy from the outside, hence the erroneous information. Only internal scanning seems to work."
"Then, by venturing here, STABS-2 will be virtually cut off from the Yggdrasil Galactic Triumvirate," Valeria said, "do you wish to continue with its establishment?"
"We do," Empress Gaia said determinedly, "this place boasts a gathering of Empires the like of which is rarely found within this Universe. We cannot afford to pass up this opportunity."
"So be it," Dante shrugged, "Scheidel, Richard, the two of you will send out a hailing frequency. We are apparently lost, and whoever has claimed this system might be able to help us find our way around. Bellatrice, Masserian, Gerard, keep the Monarchs company. Zhao, Valeria, Tala, Antonov, and Lee: you bunch maintain the Territory Broadcast."
"And me?" Damien asked.
"We're going for a tour," Dante said, holding out his hand and materializing what looked like a horse-drawn carriage out of the nearby solar material. The vehicle, with its top open, decked with cloth and leather over wood, looked like something out of old London, except the 'horses' were ablaze, and there were cup-holders beside the seats.
The infernal beasts snorted and stamped as Dante lithely hopped on. With the snap of his fingers, Dante fabricated a Carriage Driver. The man was made out of the same flaming substance as the horses, and despite that his black suit wasn't instantly incinerated. Clearly, Dante was in a somewhat flashy mood. Damien resisted the urge to say something along the lines of 'Bippity-Boppity-Boo' as he took a seat beside his cousin. With the crack of a red-hot whip, the two 'Patrons' were off.
"You'd better bake a few pies on the way, Damien," Dante continued, drinking coffee from a mug he pulled out of nowhere, "For the Monarchs' sakes, we'll want to make a good impression on our potential neighbors..."
Twelve.
But where numbers lacked anything noteworthy, location more than made up for it.
"Initiating SHEATHES-10 Territory Broadcast," Dante said, wreathed in nuclear plasma.
"Standby," Damien chimed in. While his cousin dyed the superheated gases red with his touch, his presence stained them gold.
Twelve, true, but Twelve hovering above the skies of a sun.
Slow by cosmic standards, with a motion as smooth as the blooming of a flower, a pulsating 'Aura' began to spread from the group at a steady speed. Even against the blindness-inducing glare of the boiling inferno beneath, the 'Aura' was clearly visible. In stark contrast to nuclear haze and a deluge of photons, heat and radiation were glowing specks of many colors that drifted about in a realm of semi-stillness. The 'Aura' that was none other than the Manifestation of SHEATHES-10 Territory pushed back the landscape, like a balloon expanding in turbulent water.
"Territory Broadcast underway," Dante continued, "Monarch Avatars are clear for Manifestation."
A sizable portion of glowing specks that were the tell-tale sign of a SHEATHES Territory froze for a second, then flowed in unison, gathering onto three separate points. There was organization in their implosion. Reddish, bluish, and greenish motes collected with their own kind, never mingling. In a couple blinks of an eye, the particles had formed into three familiar figures. It wasn't that those figures arrived in any way; they were already there the moment their Territory existed in that location.
"Our gratitude," Empress Hecate said, bowing lightly.
"Do not do so," said one of the twelve besides Dante, Damien and Tala.
"Pardon me, Lady Northorn?" The Monarch of Arcana State shrunk back a little at the reprimand.
"Back straight, chin up, gaze strong," instructed the addressed 'Patron', Valeria Northorn, "you're supposed to be the reigning party here. We 'Patrons' are to be respected, yes, but you can respect us without having to carry yourself about like a waitress."
"Apologies, milady," Empress Hecate said, fidgeting, "old habits die hard."
"They'd die quicker if they hadn't been encouraged for over a hundred years," Valeria glared at Dante. The Alpha Boss stifled a mischievous grin; his Manifestation had grown quite fond of being pampered by Subject and Monarch alike, and he'd taken steps to intimidate everyone in SHEATHES-10 to keep the treatment coming.
Valeria spotted the suppressed emotion, and for a moment her fury burned hotter than the vast ocean of stellar fire beneath the group. Sapphire eyes narrowed, light golden hair bristled, and a dainty mouth opened to threaten all sorts of savagery.
"Hey, hey," Damien cut in, "ready to deploy a Solar Rig yet? Those things are always fun to watch unpack."
"In a minute, il mio capo," Emperor Vulcan nodded, smiling at his 'Patron's enthusiasm.
Valeria gave Damien a look that told him she knew that he was partly to blame for the Monarchs' overly-timid attitude around their 'Patrons', but she managed to get her temper under control by this point.
"The Solar Rigs can wait, Vulcan," Empress Gaia said somberly, running her eyes around the surrounding system, "haven't you noticed something off?"
The Emperor of the Machina State followed suit. Like their 'Existence', the 'Senses' of Monarchs were bound to their Territory only. They would be able to see or hear things that were situated outside their Territory the moment such data crossed into their borders, but to perceive anything that wasn't within a place they owned was not part of their design. Granted, trying to hide from a Monarch within their Territory was like trying to hide in front of their 'retinas'. It didn't matter where or what one was using for stealth; the Monarchs were the very 'Time' and 'Space' within their Kingdoms, just as they were it's 'Dimensions' and 'Concepts'. At least, that was the regular scenario.
"Yes, I do," Emperor Vulcan murmured, "but at the same time, I don't."
In seconds, the 'Aura' had covered a country-sized area. At this rate, it would take days for SHEATHES-10 Territory to encompass the nearest planet. Give or take, the farthest fringe worlds would be reached in the space of a few years. Not bad for their 'Patrons' simply standing there. However, therein was the cause for concern: all twelve 'Patrons' working in perfect synchronization with each other could barely manage an expansion rate that one would have effortlessly exceeded anywhere else. Even with the Locking Glyphs placed on the Monarchs, thereby reducing the overall potency of their 'Patrons', their Territory should have been making greater progress. That could only have meant one thing:
As the Monarchs' Territory pushed forward, there was something pushing back.
"This galaxy," Empress Gaia said after a deep breath of seemingly empty vacuum, "it's not normal. But..."
"...But you can't figure out just how abnormal it is? Same here," Dante finished off for her, "and that would be concern number two, no? First up, the rate of Territory Expansion is much lower than our projections, even with the Locking Glyphs factored in. Secondly, the Locking Glyphs prevent anyone of us from figuring out what's special, or wrong, with this galaxy."
"There is a third concern," another 'Patron' spoke up, this one a scruffy-looking, red-haired gentleman sporting a monocle and a top hat, "You've all noticed the reduced Expansion Rate, and the fact that we cannot discern why it's that way, but has anyone noticed something just as troublesome?"
"Your naysaying can some later, Richard," Dante declared grandly, "for now, we conquer unclaimed worlds!"
"I've just run a scan. Those worlds aren't unclaimed."
What was once a dozen smug individuals erupted into a chorus of half-hearted excuses, sheepish laughter, doubtful remarks, and random facepalming, and not all palms involved connected with their proper owners' faces. The Monarchs sighed as their 'Patrons' bickered as to whose fault this embarrassment was.
"My lords and ladies," Emperor Vulcan interrupted, "perhaps nobody is to blame. Our senses have been dulled: my colleagues and I via the Locking Glyphs, and you via the lack of Expenditures we can invest in your Manifestations. My theory is that the Locking Glyphs prevent us from scanning or properly analyzing this galaxy from the outside, hence the erroneous information. Only internal scanning seems to work."
"Then, by venturing here, STABS-2 will be virtually cut off from the Yggdrasil Galactic Triumvirate," Valeria said, "do you wish to continue with its establishment?"
"We do," Empress Gaia said determinedly, "this place boasts a gathering of Empires the like of which is rarely found within this Universe. We cannot afford to pass up this opportunity."
"So be it," Dante shrugged, "Scheidel, Richard, the two of you will send out a hailing frequency. We are apparently lost, and whoever has claimed this system might be able to help us find our way around. Bellatrice, Masserian, Gerard, keep the Monarchs company. Zhao, Valeria, Tala, Antonov, and Lee: you bunch maintain the Territory Broadcast."
"And me?" Damien asked.
"We're going for a tour," Dante said, holding out his hand and materializing what looked like a horse-drawn carriage out of the nearby solar material. The vehicle, with its top open, decked with cloth and leather over wood, looked like something out of old London, except the 'horses' were ablaze, and there were cup-holders beside the seats.
The infernal beasts snorted and stamped as Dante lithely hopped on. With the snap of his fingers, Dante fabricated a Carriage Driver. The man was made out of the same flaming substance as the horses, and despite that his black suit wasn't instantly incinerated. Clearly, Dante was in a somewhat flashy mood. Damien resisted the urge to say something along the lines of 'Bippity-Boppity-Boo' as he took a seat beside his cousin. With the crack of a red-hot whip, the two 'Patrons' were off.
"You'd better bake a few pies on the way, Damien," Dante continued, drinking coffee from a mug he pulled out of nowhere, "For the Monarchs' sakes, we'll want to make a good impression on our potential neighbors..."