Post by Khaosraptor on Jan 6, 2024 21:10:20 GMT
Jerak’s eyes were drawn to the heavens.
As the scholarly Echotian looked skyward, the vast swathes of twinkling stars were suddenly drowned in a sea of golden, glittery doom. He had no explanation, no course of reasoning that could allow his mind to believe what he was seeing. For a moment, he found himself rooted in place. Whatever this celestial herald was, what more could he do but watch?
Around him, Echos and aliens alike stopped to gawk at what could only be described as the last beautiful occurrence in the skies of Ashex. The expansive universities and plazas that comprised most of Ashex’s most populated spaces were thrust into silence as the world began to glow in the golden haze.
It was already too late.
As the momentous pull of the meridian grappled with Ashex’s gravity, fleeing shuttles suddenly found themselves desperately weaving through suspended chunks of earth and ocean. The gilded pavilions and parkways of Ashex’s sculpted surface broke up in chunks, scattering into the air as the sky fell apart.
Orbital stations hosting thousands upon thousands of traders, explorers, tourists, and refugees were dragged into the yawning portal, their screams lost to the vast ocean of the void.
Hasty evacuation orders were given, and any ships that were fortunate to have been off-world made desperate jumps to light speed, hoping to escape the maw of the meridian gate.
Within the hours to come, Ashex would fall from its shining pedestal of knowledge and learning within the Empire and be cast into ruin. Another skeleton of a world, another victim in this long and violent war.
—-----------///—---------///—-----------
The display screen on the far wall suddenly lit up, rousing the meditating King of House Tempest, Kevaeris Xull. Cast in darkness and hanging in a murk of incense, the sudden intrusion sent bright plumes of light across the floor. Light flickered off of Kevaeris’s blade, which lay across her spread palm’s. She had doffed her helm and warmail, and sat before the screen in a simple black and gold cloak and lightly armoured body glove.
The symbol of House Kings blinked momentarily into view as Kevaeris stood, squinting curiously at what was to come. These reports were for her authority alone, and their importance was unquestioned, by direct decree of the Emperor.
-
-
-
The footage ended, the image from orbit sitting frozen on the far wall, that of Ashex, bisected, a corpse.
Kevaeris could feel the blade in her palms, the pressure of her steadying grip suddenly breaking the skin. She could not stop the guttural sound within her throat, could not stop the ache in her chest. Alone, she fell to her knees, clutching her ribs as rage and sorrow swelled into one mournful cry of anguish.
Her birthplace had been snatched from existence.
—---------------///—----------///-/—--------
Taox felt his heart sink in his chest as he fought to look away, his knuckles white as he clutched the datapad. He struggled for the words, finding only the searing heat of a warrior's vengeance within his chest. No sound could encapsulate his loss, and no scream would contain his fury. He felt the datapad’s hardened exterior crack, before shattering in his bloody hands.
—-------------------////—-------///—------------
Marian Thraxx stood silently, serene and stoic before the KingsChampion. His eyes searched for falsehoods where he knew he would find none, desperately clinging to hope, fearful of what he already understood. The tightening of his jaw, the sudden hardening of his eyes, and the motions of his blade were all so sudden that he appeared to be both King and monster intertwined. He brought his sword to bear, bisecting the macrys viewing screen that hovered before them, sending its pieces in either direction.
There had been no deception. The U.E.E. had thought themselves beyond the reach of the war within the Tradex Reach. Now they had paid the price for their hubris.
The KingsChampion stepped forward, his voice heavy, but firm. Owex would not sidestep the severity of this tragedy, but the Emperor’s will must be swift and decisive.
“House Valour has already begun to perform salvage operations on what remains of Ashex’s surface, as well as search for potential survivors within the underground vaults.”
Marian stared at the remains of the machine at his feet, his entire being vibrating with contained but brewing fury.
“And of our assailants?”
Again, Owex continued.
“The Meridian Gate’s trajectory places its origin somewhere in the Invilus Corridor, though that leaves no shortage of possible suspects. Isoterrans, Kel’Thullians, or any of the upstart CONA forces looking to make a name for themselves.”
Marian was quiet, mulling over his options before looking to his KingsChampion.
“Summon the House of Kings. We must rally in the face of this tragedy.”
‐—---////—------------////—----
As the scholarly Echotian looked skyward, the vast swathes of twinkling stars were suddenly drowned in a sea of golden, glittery doom. He had no explanation, no course of reasoning that could allow his mind to believe what he was seeing. For a moment, he found himself rooted in place. Whatever this celestial herald was, what more could he do but watch?
Around him, Echos and aliens alike stopped to gawk at what could only be described as the last beautiful occurrence in the skies of Ashex. The expansive universities and plazas that comprised most of Ashex’s most populated spaces were thrust into silence as the world began to glow in the golden haze.
It was already too late.
As the momentous pull of the meridian grappled with Ashex’s gravity, fleeing shuttles suddenly found themselves desperately weaving through suspended chunks of earth and ocean. The gilded pavilions and parkways of Ashex’s sculpted surface broke up in chunks, scattering into the air as the sky fell apart.
Orbital stations hosting thousands upon thousands of traders, explorers, tourists, and refugees were dragged into the yawning portal, their screams lost to the vast ocean of the void.
Hasty evacuation orders were given, and any ships that were fortunate to have been off-world made desperate jumps to light speed, hoping to escape the maw of the meridian gate.
Within the hours to come, Ashex would fall from its shining pedestal of knowledge and learning within the Empire and be cast into ruin. Another skeleton of a world, another victim in this long and violent war.
—-----------///—---------///—-----------
The display screen on the far wall suddenly lit up, rousing the meditating King of House Tempest, Kevaeris Xull. Cast in darkness and hanging in a murk of incense, the sudden intrusion sent bright plumes of light across the floor. Light flickered off of Kevaeris’s blade, which lay across her spread palm’s. She had doffed her helm and warmail, and sat before the screen in a simple black and gold cloak and lightly armoured body glove.
The symbol of House Kings blinked momentarily into view as Kevaeris stood, squinting curiously at what was to come. These reports were for her authority alone, and their importance was unquestioned, by direct decree of the Emperor.
-
-
-
The footage ended, the image from orbit sitting frozen on the far wall, that of Ashex, bisected, a corpse.
Kevaeris could feel the blade in her palms, the pressure of her steadying grip suddenly breaking the skin. She could not stop the guttural sound within her throat, could not stop the ache in her chest. Alone, she fell to her knees, clutching her ribs as rage and sorrow swelled into one mournful cry of anguish.
Her birthplace had been snatched from existence.
—---------------///—----------///-/—--------
Taox felt his heart sink in his chest as he fought to look away, his knuckles white as he clutched the datapad. He struggled for the words, finding only the searing heat of a warrior's vengeance within his chest. No sound could encapsulate his loss, and no scream would contain his fury. He felt the datapad’s hardened exterior crack, before shattering in his bloody hands.
—-------------------////—-------///—------------
Marian Thraxx stood silently, serene and stoic before the KingsChampion. His eyes searched for falsehoods where he knew he would find none, desperately clinging to hope, fearful of what he already understood. The tightening of his jaw, the sudden hardening of his eyes, and the motions of his blade were all so sudden that he appeared to be both King and monster intertwined. He brought his sword to bear, bisecting the macrys viewing screen that hovered before them, sending its pieces in either direction.
There had been no deception. The U.E.E. had thought themselves beyond the reach of the war within the Tradex Reach. Now they had paid the price for their hubris.
The KingsChampion stepped forward, his voice heavy, but firm. Owex would not sidestep the severity of this tragedy, but the Emperor’s will must be swift and decisive.
“House Valour has already begun to perform salvage operations on what remains of Ashex’s surface, as well as search for potential survivors within the underground vaults.”
Marian stared at the remains of the machine at his feet, his entire being vibrating with contained but brewing fury.
“And of our assailants?”
Again, Owex continued.
“The Meridian Gate’s trajectory places its origin somewhere in the Invilus Corridor, though that leaves no shortage of possible suspects. Isoterrans, Kel’Thullians, or any of the upstart CONA forces looking to make a name for themselves.”
Marian was quiet, mulling over his options before looking to his KingsChampion.
“Summon the House of Kings. We must rally in the face of this tragedy.”
‐—---////—------------////—----