Post by Sheng on Sept 24, 2023 17:30:58 GMT
FNCV "Preeminence"
Cessation Class Vessel | Orbit over Syviln
00:01 FNST
Security is an illusion. That is something I know now. We are not an inquisition, we are not liberators, we are not the police. We are healthcare providers. We exist to treat sickness, we identify symptoms, we locate contaminants whether they arise from within or the outside, and when we find these contaminants. We eradicate them. We do this to bring balance back to the real order of things, and to improve every system that we touch and few are foolish enough to resist such expansions, why would they? We bring gifts by every metric. We bring security, trade opportunity, stability, peace, and order, an institution they can trust. It is exactly how I designed it.
Satagon stood up from the central chair on the bridge, watching as pristinely uniformed Reborn scampered around to various consoles and projectors to compare sensor readings and internal component data. He approached the thick, blue-tinted observation window on the bow of the bridge. He shook his head as he stared down at the planet below, thoughts racing through his processor as he did so: "Why resist the terms?" "Why be so stubborn?" "Is it not better to surrender to fight another day than bow and succumb?" "Why did they not surrender?" Yet he had none of the answers to the questions racing through. Even if he did it was too late, he had given them until 00:00 Federal Naval Standard Time. He turned to look at the digital clock on the opposite side of the bridge and let out a disappointed sigh as he saw the numbers. 00:01, it was too late. A few on the bridge caught him looking at the clock and turned to do the same.
Each one of them froze as their optics caught the number present on it. They all knew what it meant, he supposed they didn't expect they'd give in to it. He knew they would, they were too loyal to their nation and their terms had deliberately been nearly impossible to meet. Those on the bridge turned to look at him, questioning if they were to go ahead with it. He knew the thoughts racing through their processors, "Surely not, this must have been a bluff." "He won't do it.. will he?" "Oh gods no..." He had a single moment of hesitation, a last thread of sympathy of him wanting to spare the crew from having the responsibility of this.. event resting on their shoulders. However, as quickly as it had come, it was gone. He nodded to the crewmen behind him and turned to look back out the window as he heard a few sharp breaths. Then he heard the clicking of keyboards and the electric sliding of metallic fingers over holographic projections. The lights on the bridge suddenly switched to a deep red colour with an audible electricity clung, meanwhile down below on the titanic cannon jutting out from the ship towards the planet, radiators started to glow from heat flooding down the barrel from the reaction chamber.
He heard the crew behind him chattering as they relayed the status of the weapon's reactor to each other, carefully monitoring its status in the event of an unexpected malfunction. He heard them bring the main firing power down to sixty-five percent, enough to scorch a significant part of the surface but not render the entire planet ruined. That was what he needed, a show of force that he could do it at a moment's notice. But he knew that destroying the entire planet would only serve to radicalize them, not terrify them. He watched as the radiators on the barrel continued to heat up, flickers of bright white light beginning to race around panels toward the end of the barrel. It was then that he heard the Chief Weapons Officer call out to him: "PRIMARY REACTION ACHIEVED, READY FOR IGNITION!"
This was it. He slowly raised a hand to indicate for them to pause before turning around and lowering his hand, before slowly beginning to walk over to the console where the CWO was standing. He laid a hand on the shivering Reborn's shoulder and gently tugged to the left, a wordless gesture to step away. They eagerly did so and left him before the console, a small part of them probably thinking he had a change of heart. He took a glance at the Reborn and saw their optics locked onto the big red "DISARM" button just before him, yet what he did next was something they all expected but hoped against. He saw their engines stutter as his hand slammed down onto a button and a loud tone rang out, his hand keeping the button pressed down for a few seconds before he raised away. He had pressed "IGNITION."
He looked out towards the window as a low rumbling sound slowly started echoing throughout the bridge, a few of the crew collapsing to their knees with hands shakily clasped over their face. He stepped between them as he slowly walked back towards the observation window, watching as a blinding white light started flickering around the end of the barrel and painted the bridge in its eerie luminance. The rumbling grew until it was practically deafening, the bridge shaking like an earthquake at the tremendous amounts of energy being harnessed far down beneath their feet. His eyes were glued to the planet below, then he gasped as an excruciating electric pulse sounded and a titanic white beam shot forth from the barrel of the oversized cannon, the beam hurtling through space until it slammed into the surface of the planet before them.
Instantly, a ring of red started expanding out from the initial impact point, a wave of fire and death that was leaving nothing but scorched ground in its wake. The beam began to let up and the deafening roar of the weapon started to quiet down. His audio processors adjusted as the sounds of pained sobs slowly filtered in behind him. He didn't dare look back at the rest of the crew, his optics firmly locked onto the destruction he had just caused. He couldn't even process what was happening, what he had just done. He shivered slightly... why was he shivering? What did he have to regret? He had done this in service of his... He couldn't even bring himself to think the words. He heard the pitter-patter of frantic steps behind him and the sound of the doors to the bridge slid open, then even more frantic steps until it was dead silent. After a few seconds, he turned back to see what it was, only to see no one there.
The entire bridge crew had left, leaving nothing but knocked-over tablets and other instruments in their wake. He couldn't bring himself to blame them, instead turning back around to face Syviln once more. He shuddered as he felt a thought punch through his processor like a bullet, a feeling he hadn't felt in decades: Regret. He felt regret and he couldn't understand why... Why did he feel regret about what he had just done? It had to be done! Didn't it?! IT HAD TO BE FUCKING DONE! NO ONE ELSE had what it fucking took to win this war! So it HAD. TO. BE. HIM! It ALWAYS had to be HIM! WHY!?
He went on like that for a while, his processor locked in a loop as he collapsed before the window and curled up into a ball, sobbing as he clasped his hands over his head.
Satagon stood up from the central chair on the bridge, watching as pristinely uniformed Reborn scampered around to various consoles and projectors to compare sensor readings and internal component data. He approached the thick, blue-tinted observation window on the bow of the bridge. He shook his head as he stared down at the planet below, thoughts racing through his processor as he did so: "Why resist the terms?" "Why be so stubborn?" "Is it not better to surrender to fight another day than bow and succumb?" "Why did they not surrender?" Yet he had none of the answers to the questions racing through. Even if he did it was too late, he had given them until 00:00 Federal Naval Standard Time. He turned to look at the digital clock on the opposite side of the bridge and let out a disappointed sigh as he saw the numbers. 00:01, it was too late. A few on the bridge caught him looking at the clock and turned to do the same.
Each one of them froze as their optics caught the number present on it. They all knew what it meant, he supposed they didn't expect they'd give in to it. He knew they would, they were too loyal to their nation and their terms had deliberately been nearly impossible to meet. Those on the bridge turned to look at him, questioning if they were to go ahead with it. He knew the thoughts racing through their processors, "Surely not, this must have been a bluff." "He won't do it.. will he?" "Oh gods no..." He had a single moment of hesitation, a last thread of sympathy of him wanting to spare the crew from having the responsibility of this.. event resting on their shoulders. However, as quickly as it had come, it was gone. He nodded to the crewmen behind him and turned to look back out the window as he heard a few sharp breaths. Then he heard the clicking of keyboards and the electric sliding of metallic fingers over holographic projections. The lights on the bridge suddenly switched to a deep red colour with an audible electricity clung, meanwhile down below on the titanic cannon jutting out from the ship towards the planet, radiators started to glow from heat flooding down the barrel from the reaction chamber.
He heard the crew behind him chattering as they relayed the status of the weapon's reactor to each other, carefully monitoring its status in the event of an unexpected malfunction. He heard them bring the main firing power down to sixty-five percent, enough to scorch a significant part of the surface but not render the entire planet ruined. That was what he needed, a show of force that he could do it at a moment's notice. But he knew that destroying the entire planet would only serve to radicalize them, not terrify them. He watched as the radiators on the barrel continued to heat up, flickers of bright white light beginning to race around panels toward the end of the barrel. It was then that he heard the Chief Weapons Officer call out to him: "PRIMARY REACTION ACHIEVED, READY FOR IGNITION!"
This was it. He slowly raised a hand to indicate for them to pause before turning around and lowering his hand, before slowly beginning to walk over to the console where the CWO was standing. He laid a hand on the shivering Reborn's shoulder and gently tugged to the left, a wordless gesture to step away. They eagerly did so and left him before the console, a small part of them probably thinking he had a change of heart. He took a glance at the Reborn and saw their optics locked onto the big red "DISARM" button just before him, yet what he did next was something they all expected but hoped against. He saw their engines stutter as his hand slammed down onto a button and a loud tone rang out, his hand keeping the button pressed down for a few seconds before he raised away. He had pressed "IGNITION."
He looked out towards the window as a low rumbling sound slowly started echoing throughout the bridge, a few of the crew collapsing to their knees with hands shakily clasped over their face. He stepped between them as he slowly walked back towards the observation window, watching as a blinding white light started flickering around the end of the barrel and painted the bridge in its eerie luminance. The rumbling grew until it was practically deafening, the bridge shaking like an earthquake at the tremendous amounts of energy being harnessed far down beneath their feet. His eyes were glued to the planet below, then he gasped as an excruciating electric pulse sounded and a titanic white beam shot forth from the barrel of the oversized cannon, the beam hurtling through space until it slammed into the surface of the planet before them.
Instantly, a ring of red started expanding out from the initial impact point, a wave of fire and death that was leaving nothing but scorched ground in its wake. The beam began to let up and the deafening roar of the weapon started to quiet down. His audio processors adjusted as the sounds of pained sobs slowly filtered in behind him. He didn't dare look back at the rest of the crew, his optics firmly locked onto the destruction he had just caused. He couldn't even process what was happening, what he had just done. He shivered slightly... why was he shivering? What did he have to regret? He had done this in service of his... He couldn't even bring himself to think the words. He heard the pitter-patter of frantic steps behind him and the sound of the doors to the bridge slid open, then even more frantic steps until it was dead silent. After a few seconds, he turned back to see what it was, only to see no one there.
The entire bridge crew had left, leaving nothing but knocked-over tablets and other instruments in their wake. He couldn't bring himself to blame them, instead turning back around to face Syviln once more. He shuddered as he felt a thought punch through his processor like a bullet, a feeling he hadn't felt in decades: Regret. He felt regret and he couldn't understand why... Why did he feel regret about what he had just done? It had to be done! Didn't it?! IT HAD TO BE FUCKING DONE! NO ONE ELSE had what it fucking took to win this war! So it HAD. TO. BE. HIM! It ALWAYS had to be HIM! WHY!?
He went on like that for a while, his processor locked in a loop as he collapsed before the window and curled up into a ball, sobbing as he clasped his hands over his head.