Post by EmperorMyric on Jan 19, 2024 10:21:09 GMT
Ixlo System: Primitive Native Space
It was seemingly strange.
While the fires of the third Ancerious war raged, as the galactic economy continued to struggle, as people died and fought across countless regions of the galaxy, there were still those who lived in total ignorance of it happening. To them the wider galaxy was nothing but an unsolved mystery even as endless bandwidths of information flew undetected overhead through the Anc net. These galactic primitives were few, with the galaxy’s rapid industrialisation and the Peony Revolution many of the natives rose onto the galactic stage, but not all were so lucky. The Ixlo were one such species, primed to join the galactic stage like the others they had instead suffered from internal strife over natural resources.
Being somewhat devoid of many precious and rare earth elements Ixlo had found itself in a cobweb of alliances and power blocks. Even as the first space exploration began the unthinkable happened, and a bush war now forgotten ignited what would eventually escalate into full blown atomic warfare. In a single day, much of Ixlos population, wildlife and beauty was destroyed in light and radiation, yet many survived.
This whole debacle had sent waves through the galactic community, who for almost 80 years, had observed the people of Ixlo closely, like a societal and biological experiment. They had flatly agreed early on never to interfere or affect their development, placing various observation platforms into orbit around the world, which later had to be withdrawn when one was spotted by amateur astronomers, luckily, one of the old-world governments had quickly covered up that news. Still when tensions had risen debate had abounded, did they intervene to prevent nuclear annihilation? Ironically, the answer was firmly being voted in the yes camp when the destruction occurred, taking those observers by surprise, and making them lament. Alas the observational potential of a race rebuilding outweighed many wishes to assist.
Given Ixlos location in the Killian Verge, one of the most built up and metropolitan areas of the galaxy, it was cordoned off, like a special zone. Native and colonial alike observed as they recovered from the apocalypse, slowly rebuilt, and regrouped, and founded new population centres. Many would not survive the climate upheaval and radiation, but one such city did. Roughly translated as the City of Rebirth it had prospered with many survivors coming to reside back within its boundaries. Surprising all who watched, the Ixlo managed, despite their relatively low technological base, to reach back out into the stars. Knowing their world was depleted of resources they reached out with limited ability in their first attempts at exploration.
The future of the Ixlo seemed bright despite their fall, and already propositions to finally open them up to the galaxy were being made to help them and to welcome them onto the galactic stage. It was a day which many had looked forward to.
And that’s what made the silence so worrying.
As if from nowhere all transmissions and dataflow from the Ixlo stopped.
No radio, no wireless, no IR. All gone.
Panic set in, observation platforms were brought in closer, and yet nothing could be found. Power grids ran for days before shutting off, certain signals kept repeating until failing, but no sign of activity or life could be found. It prompted another discussion, and this time the belief was unanimous, investigate what had happened to the population and try to make contact.
With the war technically nearing a ceasefire, tensions still ran very hot and no nation involved whether CONA or SAGA wanted to see Ixlo become a battleground.
And so, a message was sent across the galaxy and the Ancnet, requesting help and offering payment in both SIGEC and societal information gleaned from the Ixlo.
They had to find out what happened.
The situation of the Ixlo was… intriguing to the Council. Normally the affairs of primitive civilizations were ignored, for they had no benefit to them the Council deemed important enough to authorize interference. Surveillance requests were often denied due to being “pointless” as what can be learned from a society worse off then their own? But this, this was different.
The Second Dawn was still relatively new to the galactic stage and they wanted to make good first impressions to potential foreign investors and similar. What better way to do that then to help rescue the damsels in distress and advertise their capabilities? After extensive deliberation, the Council approved participation in the efforts and ordered the Executive Protection Agency to dispatch the behemoth that was a Havalen class support ship escorted by one of the titanic Arkadia class battlecruisers. Both fully crewed and equipped, with a small detachment of diplomatic specialists from the Federal Progression Committee tagging along.
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The Overseer of the operation was stood in the strategic room inside of the Salvation’s bridge. The Salvation was a revamped and upgraded Havalen class that had been equipped with more sophisticated communication technology to better communicate with other Federal assets and it was a beauty. To the Overseer, anyways. The Overseer themself were one of the older A-1 series models which had been the series that organics which had originally transitioned to synthetic were given upon completion of the operation.
They looked at the massive holo-table in the centre of the room which was flickering the word OFFLINE rapidly due to the fact they were currently FTL. But this was about to be rectified, as lights suddenly started flashing red and a warning siren started blaring. The Overseer strapped themselves in and with a strong lurch followed by some slight shaking the vessel entered the system. Once things stabilized the lights returned to normal and siren ended, two officers then entered the room and nodded to the Overseer who stood up in response. He approached the two and then the three of them proceeded to the main bridge, where many Reborn were clicking away on computers and performing mathematics for the coming deployment.
The Overseer approached the window with the two officers behind him and peered outside, looking at the planet down below. Then a beep sounded out over the intercom followed by a static-y voice saying:
“Priority Alert: Escort arriving in five seconds, secure the bridge.”
Some of the Reborn buckled back in but many didn’t as the smaller, but still quite large, battlecruiser suddenly materialized to their right with the bridge shaking slightly and one Reborn in the back cursed as the shaking spilled a cup of “Petro-Sip!™️” leading brand flavoured liquid. After a second the Overseer pulled a wired microphone up from a console below him and pressed a button on the side of it. The same tone playing over the intercom and everyone in the bridge paused and looked up as the Overseer spoke:
“Attention, Crew. We have been ordered by the Council to investigate the current status of the ‘Ixlo’ a primitive species which has gone unnaturally radio-silent with no apparent precursor events. If you haven’t read the distributed information packages, now would be the time. We are parked above the planet and awaiting the arrival of further parties and any potential special instructions from spectating Non-Government Organizations and similar. If you are not already, you should be prepared for planet-side deployment within the next standard cycle. This is Overseer Hadron, over and out.”
And so the Second Dawn had arrived, now waiting for the arrival of the other participants and to see if any NGO’s had further instructions or requests while they prepared to send the initial ground teams down to the surface.
The war had made life hell for the Pastel Space Patrol. Only a few months old and the entire galaxy was mounting up for war all around them, and with the movement of navies away from national security into bloody theatres bound to kesslerise entire systems for decades came a fierce spike in piracy and other spacebound criminal activity.
Normally this was manageable. Two nations going to war was something a Sector Fleet could keep an eye on, easily. A conflict across a sector was attention grabbing, but far from beyond the bounds of a Fleet.
Across an entire galaxy had the operational command decks of every Sector Fleet awash with activity day in and day out, none more so than the Chief Command Fleet; not only did it have to manage its operations across one of the most developed regions of the galaxy, but it had to keep tabs on the activities of the other Sector Fleets, too. The Sector Ship was a bustling place, its leisure district woefully quiet with all hands consistently on deck, ships coming and going like trade vessels visiting Lost Star.
Still, a well known early-nuclear race, monitored by multiple different organisations, suddenly going dark did not go unnoticed by the Patrol. This was, after all, the exact sort of thing the Patrol was on the lookout for. Lives were potentially on the line, a race too young and ignorant to defend themselves from the predators of the distant night.
With strained resources, three ships could be spared. An Assault Carrier, its loadout modified to suit terrestrial search and rescue, and two Destroyers to protect it. With the well wishes of the Chief Superintendent they set out, Captain Liyana at the helm.
The ships entered the system closer to its edge, alcubierre on a capital scale difficult to safely navigate into an inner system with, before the warp bubbles shuddered and faded, the drives powering down as the trio returned to normal sublight transit, the red glow of their normal engines roaring to silent life.
-
"We're here, Captain." the Pastella at the helm reported. "Superlight exit confirmed, all systems nominal, destroyers report green."
"Recon wings mounting to deploy now, they should be off the deck momentarily." another officer reported.
"Ground teams?" Liyana asked.
"Prepping, ma'am. They should be ready and waiting by the time we enter range of Ixolon."
"Good. Move us for orbit, we need eyes on what we're dealing with. Make sure we have some high-atmo planes ready too, they can cover ground a lot quicker than our dropships."
"Aye aye ma'am. Plotting course for orbit."
As the three ships turned, burning to put themselves on a rendesvous with the Ixlo homeworld, a signal went out.
"This is Captain Liyana of the Pastel Space Patrol, Chief Command Fleet. We are here to help."
The Elvorians were always one to stay in the background and watch. Whilst the galactic war raged on in the background, they focused on self improvement and peacemaking within their own nation. Eyes were directed inward at ones self, and the rest of the galaxy sort of fell to the wayside for the decadent Elvorian Ascendancy. Though few groups within the Union, such as the Abyssal Shipyards, think to not just focus on themselves and their local sector.
So when a call was made by NGOs and groups of interests about a primitive planet gone dark, a few employees in the Abyssal Shipyards Deep Space Exploration Branch quickly scrambled an expedition to the planet, both to collect scientific data, and potentially meet other groups of interest. Comprising of a Hibiki-Class Science Ship and a handful of escorts from the ERN, they set off into unfamiliar territory to find out what has been going on.
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"Stupid computer! Damn thing is on the fritz again." Simi slapped on a panel in the bridge of the ASN Snuffy, her face scrunched up in annoyance and anger.
"Simi, don't try and force the poor thing to work in warp, you already know sometimes thing's go crazy during warp." Captain Annabelle looked to the side, out of the windows of the bridge. "Oh well it's your lucky day, we're just arriving."
The blue cloud that normally surrounds the ship during this period began to dissipate, as they entered the influence of a planetary gravity well. The ship shuddered slightly as they exited their FTL and began to deaccelerate into a more manageable speed. Annabelle quickly punches in an order for the shipborne Hoshino Deltatech to plot a course for a high geosynchronous orbit, the A.I chirps a sleepy 'Yes Ma'am' in response.
Simi stepped up to meet Annabelle on the captains platform, the heads engineers face stained with soot.
"The Snuffy really needs a refit soon. It was modern for the Distant Worlds expedition but it's starting to show it's age. No other ship here has some of their computers malfunction during warp." The engineer complained as she scratched the back of her head.
"We'll get there when we get the time to send Snuffy to a dock. But let's get on task." Turning around to face the rest of the bridge crew, Annabelle began debriefing them again on the task at hand.
"Alright crew! Orders from Astella herself, says that a primitive planet had just recently gone completely dark and we need to investigate what happened to these people's. Details should be in the mail of your personal accounts, and if anyone has any questions, talk to me." Turning back around, Annabelle stared at the planet below.
Their escort ships quickly followed behind the Snuffy. Some would say it'd be overkill, though as the old adage goes. 'Better safe than sorry'. 4 bubbles quickly dropped out of FTL as they joined the Snuffy in their orbital burn. The EAS Miyu, a Plutonium-Class Drone Battlecarrier, went full burn to catch up to the Snuffy, followed by an Antimony Support cruiser, and an Indium Screening Destroyer which lagged behind to cover their rear. A spare logistical ship carrying supplies, fuel, and scientific equipment stayed near the Snuffy. The Miyu dwarfed over the Hibiki as it passed the science vessel to clear a path for the fleet behind it. Some of the crew of the Snuffy looked in awe, Simi had her mouth agape, while Annabelle simply nodded.
Opening up communications, Annabelle began to communicate with any nearby friendlies on the case as well.
"This is Captain Texal Annabelle of the ASN Snuffy commanding the Abyssal Shipyards Deep Space Exploration Fleet 'Chap'. I hear you loud and clear Liyana, it's good to have you here."
Yet another request flashed across his majesty's screens, he'd already received a few more ever since his fleet had assisted in Czint, all of which were promptly shot down, Atenwal was growing more belligerent by the day, he didn't have the time or forces to spare for another excursion off on the other side of the galaxy. Zimeon was about to ignore the call to arms. Right before he could however, the entire room started shaking, the screeching of gears sounding behind him.
The Tsar turned to Apotheosis,
"Why not?" It immediately questioned, "Surely there is something to learn if we explore Ixlo, no? At least, if they did happen to fall to something, we could avoid such a fate by learning from their mistakes. And I don't imagine there to be much risk."
"You are aware of the current climate, right?"
"More aware than you could ever hope to be, Uriel."
"Why do you insist on calling me by that name?"
The AI dodged the question; it'd rather not waste time on something it saw as minor, "Send one of the Apollyon carriers, the second version of them I requested is already nearing completion, so the loss of the ship wouldn't be too harmful."
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A large ship slowly rose into Arkranum's airspace, though it very much wasn't a traditional ship. Its build was more akin to a needle, a circular deck surrounding it akin to how a halo would. As it finally pierced the atmosphere, it was warped across the system, flung out into a tachyon current, the sails at its base unfurling, making its way towards Ixlo.
Compared to the other belligerents of the ongoing war in Ancerious, the Cascadians had relatively more time, resources and wealth to expend for various other activities not-related to war-time production or upkeep. As they were still quite new to this universe and its properties -- cosmological and astropolitical -- most of that time has been spent studying the "native" inhabitants of this galaxy, exploring what the scientific community may call "weird" or "ground-breaking" and creating new relations with the other political states and empires.
It shouldn't be a surprise then, that Cascadian government and non-government actors have gotten themselves involved with organisations regarding the matter of primitive species. The Ixlo's case was no different; many corporations and government interest groups had set up research and observation stations in various corners of their home system.
Which was all the more reason for them to be on alert when their civilization seemingly disappeared into thin air. The government Office of technology suspected foul play or an accident with clarketech -- the kind that would rob even more advanced civilisations of their electricity within seconds -- and so too did others. Most, however, were dumbfounded; the possibility of such an event was unlikely.
Responding the situation was a combined commercial and military force consisting of the Amphis-class destroyers Kyle Torser and Jacob Riddell as well as the civilian research vessel Karmine Chief. Upon their entry, they relayed a message to the other first respondants.
THIS IS THE FEDERAL REPUBLIC OF CASCADIAN FORCE. WE HAVE TWO ARMAMENT CARRYING SHIPS WITH A RESEARCH AND SUPPORT VESSEL. BURNING TO ORBIT.
The Ixlo system has been a source of fascination for Novish scientific communities. To observe a nation slowly develop and take to space over the span of many years has proved to be an incredibly valuable mass scale study, given that Novish history records lack information about the civilization’s coming of age as they took to space.
The disappearance of Ixlo has thus caused uproar in the scientific community, which eventually filtered through and become a hot topic for public discussion and mass media. “Ixlo, where did it go?” was the most viewed post in Noviy this month. The controversy quickly reached the eyes and ears of the League, who conducted a session of discussion and debate in the Grand Committee; it was decided that Noviy would break the precedent of observing Ixlo at a distance, and instead enter Ixlo’s orbit with a well-equipped constellation of both armed and unarmed craft to do in depth investigation of the civilization’s silence.
The 4th fleet was nominated to perform this mission- preparations were rapidly unfolding as the fleet prepared to make the voyage. The 4th fleet was particularly well suited for this mission, due to the longstanding reputation of the fleet for successful intelligence operations.
Logistical craft from Astellum Inc. would join the ship constellation, and assist
A calculation for fuel requirements made by a Cerrus Scion, drawing from the 4th fleet’s ancerium melange surplus, following which the great voyage would be undertaken. Exiting realspace, entering redspace, slowly transitioning to the regular meridian as the constellation left Noviy, guided by a team of psychic navigators.
As the ships slowly resurface from the meridian, back in realspace, it began sending out a simple hail:
WE ARE A NOVISH CONSTELLATION
From an observers point of view, the constellation would look like a collection of bright plasma streaks extending for up to several kilometers
Myric (Union, Capitol, Eos+) — 26/02/2023 11:01
Ixlon, the system itself, had never seen such activity in its existence, since perhaps the days of the Overmind.
Numerous FTL wakes and ship contacts lit the various polities sensors, clearly each of them was not here alone. A handful of ships were already in system, two large hospital vessels belonging to Mercy Without Borders, an explorer/streamer ship of the Cherenkov Guild and a smattering of other vessels belonging to NGOs sat in far observation of the world in question.
Ixlon itself was a busy system, twin suns one in its prime the other a reduced white dwarf sat at the centre surrounded by concentric rings of asteroids and small planetoids. Ixlo sat in the goldilocks zone, a large moon orbiting it at such a distance to give the planet strong tides, but also a beautiful night sky view. Two gas giants orbited further out, their makeup not different to the galactic standard, and an iceball planet smaller than Ixlo orbited far out just inside the systems Oort cloud. No other vessels were in system which could be considered hostile or culprits, only a series of small observation platforms in high orbits which were all automated. None of them had seemingly spotted any foreign ships entering the system (something which would have been rapidly detected and reported).
“I am Chief Medical Director Klein Wessel, with me is the Cherenkov Guild member Doppler Flash, I represent Mercy Without Borders and have full authority to provide medical, humanitarian and supply support to the Ixlo people. Doppler Flash is here to provide rapid sensor coverage and… Media coverage” The last sentence Klein seemed to cringe at. The Guild members were all prolific streamers “We have only just arrived; I hope to work alongside you all closely. We are sending what information we have so far”
The wideband broadcast heralded data packets for the new arrivals. Known data on the Ixlo as well as the notice that there was a brief but very faint energy spike on Ixlo just before the planet went dark. Located somewhere in the Chilimbre Marsh region. It had been designated as an investigation zone, alongside the City of Rebirth and a supposed somewhat functioning military base deep into one of the Southern Mountain complexes.
“Preliminary scans from orbit show no life signs and only spotty power sources from still functioning systems, we have not descended to the surface yet however, but are prepping to do so, with any luck the identified landing zones will provide answers”
The grey blue marble of Ixlo rotated in space, its scarred surface had endured much already. But there was still so much unknown.
As several transmissions started bouncing around the system one of the Reborn in the bridge stood up and walked over to a big blocky machine and pressed a button and pulled back a lever, a quiet but rapid clicking noise started up and after a minute the machine started rapidly printing transcripts of what was broadcasted. He gathered them all and then stapled the corner before walking over to the Overseer and handing the papers over to him. The Overseer then turned and handed it to one of his officers who promptly flipped through it and then left, presumably to go place it in storage for record’s keeping.
The Overseer continued to stare outside of the window before he heard the distinct clack of footsteps behind and he turned around, an armoured individual with a rifle slung over his chest gave a quick salute before speaking:
“Equipment is being loaded into the drop ship now and the landing parties have been assembled, anything you want to run by us before departure?”
The Overseer nodded to them and then turned to the other officer at his side and said:
“Start preparing for a broadcast, I want to announce our presence and see if we can get some co-ordination going between the various parties that have just arrived.”
The Overseer then turned back around and motioned for the armed individual to lead the way which they promptly started to do, the Overseer following with haste.
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Operation Officer “Vestil-9” was currently watching a Model 98 Main Battle Tank lock it’s turret into it’s transportation configuration before it lurched forward with a roar and started to drive itself into the cargo bay of the drop ship. Why the Council had insisted that the Federal Ground Force be the ones to lead the investigation was honestly escaping him, this was clearly a scientific matter yet the military was running the operation. Which… made no sense, but who was he to question the superior intellect of the seven? He shook his head before he motioned to a few dock workers to begin loading crates into the cargo hold now that the tank was in and secured which they quickly started doing.
He was watching them work when he heard someone call out “Vestil!” behind him, turning around and seeing his second in command approaching with the Overseer following closely behind. Giving a quick salute before they approached and stopped in front of him, his second in command giving them both a nod before he walked off and entered the passenger section of the drop ship where the rest of the landing team was waiting. He looked at the Overseer who said:
“Since you’re leading the ground team I will tell you what’s going on. Numerous other parties have entered the system, all of them here to assist in the matter, and are supposedly preparing to assist. We have received a transmission stating that this investigation will receive a significant portion of media coverage along with external sensor coverage. It’s possible you’ll be deploying in anywhere from thirty minutes to ten hours, we truly don’t know. So be ready, oh and no bullshit when you land please. If one of the first things the galaxy sees of us is our ground troops acting like malfunctioning toy robots then I don’t think I have to give words to how enraged the Council would be.”
Vestil nodded and the Overseer muttered something about the cost of this entire operation before walking off. Vestil just sort of awkwardly stood there before nodding to himself and then proceeding back into the drop ship.
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The Overseer returned to the bridge and looked at the officer who nodded and held out the same wired microphone to him. He took it and the officer pressed a button and “transmission in progress” appeared on various status displays. The Overseer then broadcasted the following:
“Attention all parties, this is the FNSV ‘Salvation’ and the FNCV ‘Dauntless’ of the Second Dawn. We are here to assist with the investigation in any way that is needed.”
Hearing voices other than their own, Annabelle perked up at the mention of other NGOs in the system. Going over to the window and planting her face against it like a child at a candy store, she was able to spot the MWB ships with some difficulty. Jumping down from the platform and back to her stations, she watched her comms carefully, looking if anyone else was going to make a move.
"Well would you look at that." Simi looked around at the other sensor contacts. "I'm surprised we're not alone, that big war thing between KONA ic- I mean CONA and SAGA or whatever seems to have tied the hands of many nations."
"I don't bother myself with external politics too much. Who cares if we're colonial or native or whatever term they're using." Tapping on a new communication contact from the Salvation and Dauntless, Annabelle listened into their communications, before responding accordingly.
"Hello folks! This is the ASN Snuffy and an escort fleet. We're glad to have you on the team." Closing the comms channel, Annabelle ordered the internal comms officers to relay that they need to get ready for landfall. Brushing aside some of her red, bouncy hair, Annabelle sits down on her captains chair, taking a sip from the coffee mug haphazardly left on one of the arm rests, gazing at the friendly ships nearby, and Miyu in front of them.
The EAS Miyu seemed a bit overkill for the task, though both Astella and the Archon agreed that she'd be fit for the task after a number of refits to modernize her even further. With sleek black and white paint, and glowing red panels, it almost seemed like a cliche look for a droneship of that scale and size. Annabelle goes to takes another sip from her coffee before she was interrupted.
The Miyu sends a hail request to the Snuffy, their droneship seems to want to talk to them. Putting the mug down on the table, Annabelle accepts the request.
"Yes Mosala what is it?" Annabelle curiously asked.
"E-Eh... There's a lot of contacts around here. But anyways. I was thinking of using some of my drone fighters as scout craft. They can probably provide useful air support for any rescue operations." The quiet, timid voice of the A.I Mosala responded to Annabelles inquiry.
"Good idea. Just... try not to antagonize the other people around this system. Last thing we need is another war."
"Yes ma'am, I'll do my best!" The comms channel flipped offline as Annabelle thought of a plan.
---
Meriam looked over the bays of the Snuffy, dropships carrying light hovercraft, supplies, and personnel were all being loaded up and accounted for. The people in the hangar moved like ants, with purpose and without mistake. Though the logistics and prep weren't the main piority for Meriam. Turning around to find her small ragtag squad of Nightingale Operatives, she looked at them with a tired face. Not even a week into this voyage and she was already getting sick of her squadmates. Aiobahn seemed to have drifted off into lala land as she daydreamed. And Samal was busy doing... something. He was just here a few moments ago, but now he was gone like the wind.
Rubbing her forehead, Meriam couldn't stand the two goofballs as her squadmates, though at the very least she trusted them to have her back. She was rudely awoken from her 5 second rest with an announcement from Annabelle.
"All scientific elements and security teams, prepare to enter dropships. We're going to be taking point at the Southern Mountains, mainly at the military base situated there."
As the trio of Patrol ships entered orbit, their bright and colourful paint a stark contrast to the scarred world below, the battlecarrier moved into action. Electromagnetic launch rails in the launch deck engaged as guidance lights turned on, aircraft moved into position behind the energy wall shielding them from space. Turrets jolted to motion, moving into an alert stance, and initial orbital scans begun in earnest.
"Understood, Director Wessel. The Space Patrol has multiple scanner aircraft and ground teams ready, and are ready and willing to provide all aid we are able. We look forward to working with you." came Liyana's response.
"Deploying high altitude search craft now."
Indeed, in sets of three large planes flew off the battlecarrier's deck, void boosters firing to carry them down to atmosphere, moving to scan the sites of interest. One would remain in high atmosphere, performing wide range scans for maximal area coverage. One would sit lower, and the last at more typical flight altitudes, to get a closer look at anything the higher two picked up.
Aboard the ship, dropships were prepared, Pastellas loading firearms and loading assorted supplies as well. Medical, disaster relief, utility. They weren't sure what they were walking into, and they would rather not be walking into it blind.
"Alright everyone!" a Pastella with a coat over her shoulders, aviators and an entirely cosmetic cigar--rubber wrapped in paper--in her mouth stepped up onto a crate. This was Chief Constable Tomina.
"We're floating in low orbit over a pre-interstellar race. Hell, they're not even interplanetary yet. Lots of people made sure they remained undisturbed, but for some unknown reason they've all disappeared!" she explained, chomping down on the cigar with a toy squeak and sitting a Brassmouth Repeater on her shoulder.
"The Chief Command Fleet wants us to find out why, and help anyone we find down there! Lives may be on the line, people, and even if we can't find survivors, we can find out as much as we can to prevent this happening again! So mount up and prepare to drop, and remember to download the linguistics patch! Scanners are hunting for targets now! Search and rescue is our priority!"
"Aye aye ma'am!" came the resounding reply, the assorted colours of the Pastellas moving to clamber aboard their assorted craft.
The three Cascadian ships quickly repositioned themselves to orbit the Ixlon planet at a safe distance. Their movements were telegraphed to everyone; they couldn’t hide the large fusion plumes that their thrusters kicked up. If there were still Ixlon on the ground, they would spot such plumes, along with the countless others that appeared.
As they traversed the hard vacuum of interplanetary space, a communique was sent to them from Mercy without Borders. Quickly, they sent out a reply, one more organic and human than their initial algorithm-generated message.
”Folks, this is the Cascadian contingent. We’re going to be deploying our assets to the City of Rebirth. I would suggest those moving to the same region to get in contact with us. Otherwise, out.”
From the belly of the Karmine Chief exited its drop skiffs, equipped with the one of the most efficient air-breathing/chemical thrusters ever to be designed and manufactured in the Republic. Indeed, the Karmine Chief was the pinnacle of modern Cascadian ship design, and its skiff-craft were no different. They quickly aerobraked and entered into the atmosphere, heading for the outskirts of the City of Rebirth, a designated landing zone.
The Jacob Riddell and the Kyle Torser were not slouching around, either. They were pointing their powerful synthetic radar arrays and other terrestrial sensor equipment at the surface, attempting to get readings on the ground. Anything that would give an indication of what had happened - ruins that signified war, or remnants of clarketech. But it was somewhat of a futile endeavour; if the others that were here had not gotten any good data apart from “The Ixlo are gone”, what would they get?
The Apollyon had arrived later than the other ships, leaving the Tachyon current before generating a wormhole to arrive at Ixlo. Accompanying the Apollyon were several drones, ignoring the fighters aboard the carrier itself. They'd still make it just in time to receive the message, and as usual, Arkranum's ships seemed to simply follow the lead, seemingly out of fear that one wrong step would ruin them.
Admiral Kireal sat aboard his ship, rather disappointed, instead of getting to work on his masterpiece, the second version of the Apollyon, he was instead ordered to go in the middle of nowhere to investigate a species that hadn't even gone spaceborne. The Arconae could never understand what the Tsar was thinking, and at this point he was getting a little tired of it.
Doubts aside, he had a job to finish, and surely he'd be rewarded with something, he just had to not fuck it up. Kireal pressed a few buttons at his terminal, and leaned towards it.
The announcement screens in the fighter bays fluttered to life, Arkranum's flag displayed on them, alongside the Tsar's and the army's insignias. "You are to investigate Ixlo's planets, and find out why they've gone missing, you will be accompanied by other nations, all with the same goal. We've fitted certain fighters with research equipment, as well as research personnel. The drones will also be alongside you, watching your backs and assisting with scanning."
The fighters - strange angel-like needles, mimicking the Apollyon's form - began to undock, one by one. They made their descent to the City of Rebirth, based on info from incoming transmissions. Once they breached the atmosphere, the drones made haste, scanning for magic-based signals, although this was probably a futile endeavour.
Upon receiving the transmission from the Chief Medical Director and Doppler Flash, Novish fleet command would be quick to respond in kind
"This is Admiral Tenax of the third fleet, as well as José Jaques, director of our logistical fleet speaking. We formally make a request to open a communication channel in order to share information, data, and findings to aid in this investigation."
this message would be public, and as such any nation or organization has the freedom to listen into Novish findings
A detachment of shuttles would be sent down into low Ixlo orbit, making a burn to enter it's orbit and then a followup circulation burn would see the shuttles orbits be as close to the planet as feasibly possible, without risk of de-orbiting. The first shuttle would descend into the planet, using it's black belly to perform a long aerobreak down to cruising altitude, where it lands on the driest and most stable patch of the marshes that it could find.
¦===<>===¦
Altum would be the first to step out of the shuttle, squinting as he adjusted to the outside light. Half his face would be covered by a crimson faceplate, indicating that he was part of the redeemer corps. He looks back as his squad mates backed a large armed rover out of the rear of the shuttle, decorated generously with sensors and communication equipment. A few men would remain to guard the shuttle, while the rest would go out and explore the marshes.
Assured that the rest of the shuttles will provide aerial reconnaissance, as well as be able to descend should there be a need for reinforcements, the exploration group got into the all terrain rover and make their way deeper into the marshes, the eight wide tires of the rover providing enough surface area for the vehicle not to get bogged down.
Altum would speak into the radio: "Exploration group to naval command, we have broken through atmosphere and deployed, going deeper into the marshes. Over"
Southern Mountains
The mountains were quite frankly beautiful. Relatively untouched by the nuclear holocaust which had ravaged the planet the snow capped tall peaks and deep glacial valleys were a scene right out of some tourist handbooks. But something mysterious had happened here, and the howling wind and silence made things more eerie than anything else.
Two landing pads jutted out from a tall peak, revealing the base which the Elvorians were attempting to investigate. One of them was taken, a clearly primitive aerial transport design based off VTOL principles sat powered down and idle on the pad, covered with snow and ice like it had not been used in some time. The other pad was thankfully free for at least one dropship at a time, it would be an awkward cycle of landing and unloading but the peaks were too steep to even think of landing anywhere else, unless on the glacier below but that came with its own challenges.
Just beyond the pads was the main entrance, an anti-nuclear blast door to a facility, sealed shut and at least 3 meters thick of reinforced steel and concrete. Good protection from overpressure. But nobody came out to meet them, and no signals were sent to the sudden arrival of a race from the reaches of space.
City of Rebirth
A drop through a planet’s atmosphere was always stressful, but combat dropping into a foreign nations world and not being shot was a blessing. Still the circumstances of the disappearance did nothing to dispel the unease which existed on the planet.
The City of Rebirth was not huge, but it was well built up, a central district of several skyscrapers pushed into the heavens surrounded by large blocks of flats and dedicated districts to various matters. Storage areas and marketplaces were here and there but much of the cities space was used up, in some places buildings built on top of buildings. It was like a slum, but not as ramshackle, they had obviously been desperate in their wish to build here as the last city.
An airfield on the cities outer areas provided the best landing zone, its open runways perfect for dropships and unit deployment. However, strangely two aircraft were on the runway, one was wrecked just beyond the runways end like it had run off and crashed into several buildings, the other was sitting like it was about to taxi onto the runway and take off. Neither showed power and the entire airport itself showed no signs of life. Initial scouting revealed luggage and other items strewn about the main atriums and terminals, like they had been abandoned. The planes were the same, the crashed one and the one sat idle both had luggage aboard, the taxing one still with a full tank of fuel and ready to go.
Something very strange had happened here.
Chilimbre Marshes
The Chilimbre Marshes always held an interesting place in Ixlo culture and history. They were a large expanse of peat marshes and bogs which existed at the delta of the planets largest river, found in a temperate region the marshes experienced both a hot summer and cold winter. But legends existed that bad spirits dwelt there, that you could see strange lights dance across the stagnant waters surface and that to follow them was to disappear forever.
For the dropships, finding a landing area was a nightmare. The bog could barely take heavy machinery let alone dropships and was an expanse of land for over a hundred kilometres. But after thick searching and aerial recon a location was finally located. It was a patch of ground around 900 meters across, still boggy and causing the dropships landing gear and those who disembarked to sink into the wet grass and mud a little, but it was something.
It stank here, of rotting peat and methane and a low fog clung to the surface of the water and ground reducing visibility. Interestingly however was the silence. Even the wildlife here was gone.
As the forces moved out the going was treacherous, even with specialised vehicles the bogs had deep pools and quick mud, pathfinding took time but it was necessary.
The Overseer handed the microphone back to his officer and a few seconds later one of the crewmen at a console held up a thumbs-up and motioned for him to come over. The Overseer approached and the crewman pointed to his computer screen, showing reconnaissance data from the Dauntless’ orbital scanners. It was limited but sufficient for a drop, the Overseer deliberated with him before tapping on the screen where the primitive military base was. The Crewman nodded before spinning his chair around and pressing down on a thick red button and then saying:
“Ground team, prepare for drop. Repeat, prepare for drop.”
——————————
Vestil was playing a game of cards with some of the other personnel on the drop ship when all of a sudden all the lights turned off with a mechanical “clunk” followed by various red lights flicking on a moment later followed by a broadcast over the intercom saying to prepare for a drop. Immediately the various soldiers and other personnel shot up and started securing their gear, rifles went into holders and crates were strapped down. After their equipment was secured they sat down in thick metal bucket seats and strapped themselves in. Vestil walked around checking straps and locks before he shouted:
“What are we!”
To which the assembled soldiers responded to with a shout of “Dead metal!” to the immense confusion of the scattered scientists and other civilian personnel accompanying them. Vestil shouted in response:
“That is correct! We, are the first ones out the door and the last ones to come back! We, are the arms of the Second Dawn! The shield who guards her and the hero who saves her! The Council has sent us to solve this problem and solve it we will!”
As Vestil went on with his little morale speech the lights switched to a yellow colour with another thick “clunk.” And some of the civilian personnel seemed to grow a bit nervous, Vestil approached the main door and grabbed onto a handle and looked at the assembled team before screaming out:
“Die well, Die bravely. PREPARE FOR DROP!”
As he said that the assembled personnel grabbed onto handles that were attached to their chair and the light turned green and half a second later an alarm blared. The interior of the shuttle could be heard pressurizing with a hiss and then with a sudden lurch the gravity inside of the drop-ship vanished as it started rocketing through space towards the planet’s surface.
——————————
The Overseer watched as the dropship rocketed down towards the surface of the planet and then a half a second later a second one followed suit, he turned to one of the crewmen who gave another thumbs up and was heard making quiet statements into his headset. A voice could be heard of the intercom saying “One is away… Two is away, good launch.” As the Overseer walked back to the strategic room followed by the Officer. When he entered it was no longer a quiet, empty room. Instead various officers were sat down waiting for something as the holo table in the centre displayed a large “Awaiting input” message. The overseer took the seat at the end and after a few seconds a large television was wheeled in and a few cables were connected. The assembled officers in the room promptly stood up and looked towards the television as one of the personnel who was just hooking it in said:
“I introduce you all to the Strategic Intelligence of the Council of 7. Liberator of Arkadia and vanquisher of the Sword’s Saviour’s Three.”
The TV immediately turned on after they had finished talking and displayed the flag of the Second Dawn, a deep and profoundly robotic voice let out a sigh and said:
“Well then, let us begin.”
——————————
The drop-ship shook as it passed through the planets atmosphere and then deployed it’s retrograde rockets, slowing itself down until it’s atmospheric jets could take over. It started hovering around the mountain that harboured the primitive base and started waiting for the pad to clear. They had arrived.
'Revue 1 through 6 reporting. Seems like it's gonna be quite a long journey to supply our ground efforts. Only 1 landing pad, so I think everyone could loiter around as one person drops down and unloads their stuff. We got everything on us right now, any resupplies back to Snuffy are just extra supplies or auxiliary personnel.' The captain of one of the dropships relayed to the rest of the formation of dropships. Meriam and Aiobahn quickly ran down the stairs and onto the main hangar bay, entering the first dropship in the formation. Strapping themselves in, Meriam took a quick look to see how the rookie was holding up.
Aiobahn still seemed a bit out of it, her turquoise hair waving in the non-existent wind of the craft.. Meriam couldn't figure out what was up with her, Aiobahns eyes drifted to and from, before landing on Samal, near the front of the craft. It seemed like he had beaten Meriam to the ship. He gave the two finger guns, before strapping himself in too. Meriam simply muttered a few curses under her breath, careful to make sure Aiobahn couldn't hear. Out of all of the Nightingale operatives she could've been assigned to, she was put in with the half-asleep magic freak, and the most stuck up man imaginable. Alas, she just sighed as she waited for the rest of the personnel to arrive.
---
"Really Annabelle? That's all you're gonna wear?"
Simi chirped up while in the ships armory. Guns and armor lined the rooms walls with all sorts of shapes, sizes, color, and uses. Scanning Annabelle up and down, Simi scratched the back of her head, questioning her choices. Annabelle only had a basic plate carrier and vest, while Simi was going in one of their heavy exosuits.
"Well, I want to be as light as possible when I go in, plus there's nothing a Galahad can't do too." Annabelle smugly flipped some of her red, fluffy hair to the side as she grabbed a plasma SMG off of it's ready rack, putting a few magazines into her vest pockets and running down the halls. Simi just sighs, grabbing a small coilgun rifle and strapping it onto her suit as she followed the captain.
---
Boarding Revue 1 right as it was preparing to leave the craft, Annabelle took a seat next to Meriam and Simi took a seat next to Aiobahn. A few other research personnel and vital supplies filed in as the dropships doors closed behind them. Barreling down to the planet below, the crew exchange some small talk as they descended onto the mountain.
---
The forward base was established somewhat with the first dropship arriving down at the planet, with Annabelle and the Nightingale Detachment preparing to enter the military base whilst Simi and the other personnel set up infrastructure for a more extended research operation. The frigid winds of the mountains swept snow and ice around the loitering dropships, which hovered above the landing pods as the dropships dropped down and lifted off. Sensor planes from the Miyu flew around the mountain tops, scanning for any sign of life in this untouched land.
"Someone get these tents set up! And can we get someone to try and open that door?" Simi was already taking some of the initiative as her exosuit hissed with activity and hydraulics. Meanwhile, near the door, Annabelle, Meriam, and the rest of the Nightingale Squad were mingling outside of the door. Aiobahn stared up at the door, her eyes still drifting and blank.
"Well, if we use explosives, we might as well blow up the rest of us out here. And that thing will probably not even get scratched." Meriam complained to Annabelle.
"Well what else do we do? We don’t have any codes so far, and I guess a focused explosion could be our best bet.” Annabelle refuted back, as Samal decided to join in as well.
“You blow us up, I am not gonna forgive you. I’ve had enough of high explosives for one month.” He smirked at himself, mindlessly tossing a small box up and down.
Aiobahn, passing by the quarreling group, gazing up at the massive blast door. She put a finger up to her chin as she swayed back and forth.
“Open~” Aiobahn said out loud. The first words that Meriam heard from Aiobahn since she met her. She stretched out of her arms and the flow of mana from her halo to her hands became clear. It seemed like she was attempting to open the door by herself. While it might be a daunting task to even Annabelle, perhaps Aiobahn could open the door with her more fine attunement in Elvorian magic.
The Space Patrol made its decision on deployments; the military base, and the city. They held the greatest likelihood for survivors and answers, in their eyes. Patrol dropships came racing down from the skies soon after the others. A signal was sent to the other nations, inviting communication and coordination.
Southern Mountains
The dropship that approached the base circled for a bit, inspecting the site.
Their solution to the issue of the crowded landing pad, landing craft waiting their turns, was to...
Not.
Instead, it hovered over the other pad, the one with the VTOL on it, the side hatches popping open. The Pastellas within leapt free, flight thrusters engaging as they all glided down, landing around the outdated aircraft, the dropship beginning to move off.
Some of the Pastellas halted, scanning the plane, while the rest begun moving towards the door inside, waving at those on the opposite pad.
"Be advised, Chief Constable, I'm reading nuclear emissions from inside. This place should still have power, but those types of reactors usually need consistent maintenance. I can't speak for its condition."
"Understood, flight team." Tomina answered, absentmindedly gnawing at her rubber cigar.
"Alright team, let's get inside! We got survivors to search for and maybe a reactor to prevent from melting down!"
-
City of Rebirth
The natives' efforts to rebuild was respectable, admirable even, but the silence of their efforts was eery. Unnerving. The rest of the dropships, deployed to the City, spread out, sweeping for signals. Radio, emissions, biometrics. Anything. The shanty town, the skyscrapers, everywhere they thought anyone or anything could be hiding.
"Its quiet out there. Too quiet." one of the Pastellas grunted, fingers rapping on the white of a medical box.
"Are there even any bodies?"
"If they've seen any, our pilots haven't said anything."
"You think they got abducted or something?"
"Well, there are reports of entire planets going dark sometimes. But not so much out here."
"Quiet, you lot." the apparent leader of the team, Constable Bania, grunted. "Speculation won't solve anything. Let the pilots listen to their sensors and we'll know if there's anything worth our attention."
"Aye, ma'am. It's just...troubling."
"I know, officer. I know."
The rover began to sink further into the watery marshes, thick vegetation cluttering the view of the team from inside the vehicle. Altum exist the rover and looks around, using his sights to pierce through the thick fog. He cycles through his options, thermal, UV, and microwave. Unfortunately, none provided any insight that could help in their ventures. Sighing, he climbs back into the rover and begins to discuss their predicament with the rest of the crew.
"The terrain is becoming increasingly watery, if we don't figure out a way to determine how to get safe passage, we risk sinking the rover, or worse yet, drowning ourselves."
The team pondered for a moment. A mix infantry and scientists, easily differentiated by their appearance. The Standard Naval Infantry (lovingly called Snee's due to their acronym, or Gunmetal Grays because of their armor) would be sitting towards the front of the rover, driving the vehicle, as well as a gunner position denoted by a chair equipped with a plethora of controls, and a VR headset suspended on a hook above.
The scientists would be much more regular Novish folk in appearance, wearing jumpsuits with a distinctive blue stripe, 3rd Fleet Science Corps being written in negative space. Although they were now leaning in Altum's direction to find out what he was going to say next, they were stationed in the back tending to the communications and sensors of the Rover.
"I'll pathfind with you". Replied one of the Grays. Altum turned around to see who responded, meeting the gaze of Themis, who was setting away a green box, the six-pointed cross of a medic decorating his shoulder-plates.
Altum and Themis stepped out of the vehicle together, briskly striding forward with the aid of their enhanced mobility from their artificial bodies, identifying dryer land upon which the rover could safely traverse. Altum pointed to the distance, signalling to Themis
"You see those lights, look.."
"Not quite fireflies are they Altum?" Themis replied, the end of his visor lifting somewhat as he adjusted to the long distance
"No, they look.. they look akin to Will-o-wisps.. mysterious.."
The marsh began to deepen and become wetter, but the team and rover persevered through, being fascinated by the lights. They were heading towards the location of interest marked on their maps, identifying this as a site of energy emission that they believed to be linked to the mystery of Ixlo's silence...
Southern Mountains
It was cold on the mountain, very cold.
The wind howled as they pitched tents and deployed themselves the single landing pad being used by one vessel then the next in a slow but steady deployment of supplies to the base. No automated systems responded to them touching down, no sudden activity and the door didn't open as they approached.
But the magic did help. The mana flowing over the huge gigantic tonne locks and bolts, mechanisms moved and clicked and the systems slowly slid into position. As quickly as she had said 'Open' the door minutes later, swung open, slowly and ponderously revealing just how thick it was. Beyond was an illuminated tunnel along with what appeared to be a military checkpoint, but it was deserted, a single doorway which led to an elevator stood at the end of the tunnel, the main way into the base.
City of Rebirth
Nothing appeared on sensors, no emissions, no life signs, it was a ghost city pure and simple.
But the thought they had been abducted...
... There were no bodies anywhere, not in the streets not observed at all from any of the recon scans. It was if everyone had simply vanished.
But there in a brief moment there was a power spike, located down town in the market place. Two life signs briefly detected for a few moments before disappearing again, it wasn't much but it was a start.
Chilimbre Marshes
The pathfinding helped, avoiding some of the worst boggy parts or holes filled with water, but as the Novish forces made more and more progress, more and more will-o-wisps appeared, they never got close. Always staying at the edge of the mist where they were barely visible, they only barely appeared on IR sensors but they were definitely something, constantly flickering in and out of existence.
That was when the voices started.
It was like a whisper 'Help me' like a woman had stood next to one of the Grays and spoken into his ear. Faint cries from the mist could also be heard, seeming to appear as and when the will-o-wisps did. The closer they got to the energy signature the more the phenomena seemed to spontaneously appear.
Annabelle and the rest of the crew turned their attention to Aiobahn forcing the door open by herself. Nobody wanted to approach her in fear of interrupting her magic, nor did they want to step in to help, it seemed like she had this under control. After a brief period of time, the door finally opened. The spell abruptly ended, the semi-transparent arms of energy that Aiobahn wielded snapped back at her and knocked her down. Annabelle and Meriam quickly rushed over to her, grabbing her by the shoulders and lifting them back up.
"Ha..." Aiobahn gave a single laugh. "I did that." She simply pointed at the door. Even after literally falling on her ass, she seems half asleep. She's led forward by Meriam, taking her by the hand and bringing her along.
"Well that solves our problem." Meriam started walking into the bunker before pausing, looking behind her at the rest of her team, along with the Space Patrol elements, she nodded for them to follow her as she took the vanguard.
Samal followed right behind her. Carefully watching the walls and roofs in case something sprung up. He seemed to be offput by the tunnel, fiddling with his gun as a distraction for his hands while he surveyed the area.
Annabelle drifted behind the pack of soldiers, her hands in her jackets pockets. Turning around to face behind her, she shouted towards Simi. "Hey! Snuffy just got readings of a nuclear reactor or something down here. Get the Inquisitors onboard ready to drop if we encounter any CBRN the Inquisitions forward team can't deal with." Simi replied to Annabelle's message with a thumbs up as she turned back around and followed the team.
"Nuclear meltdown huh? Wouldn't be a pretty sight for both us and any survivors in the base. I've seen enough reactor explosions in ones life to know that an enclosed space like this is a deathtrap if something goes off. If the heat and explosion won't kill you, the pressure will." Annabelle chatted with the Patrol, not knowing what else to do.
The team entered the large elevator at the end of the hall, waiting for the rest of the team to arrive and descend into the depths.
Once the landing pad had made room the dropship slowly lowered itself and slowly turned around so that the large cargo ramp was facing it meanwhile the second dropship appeared behind them and ignited it's deceleration rockets. The first dropship slowly touched down on the pad and the ramp begin to lower itself before clanking against the pad and the roar of a rather large engine could be heard starting up from inside. After a moment the engine roared again and a decently sized tank started to slowly crawl out from within accompanied by no less than twenty armed soldiers, holding rifles at low ready and looking all around.
Once the group was fully away from the dropship the barrel on the tank extended suddenly with a thick "clunk" sound and the ramp to the dropship started to raise itself. The soldiers looked to each other before one pointed at the newly opened door and made a hand gesture to the tank, in response it lurched forward with a loud mechanical growl and started to pickup speed and move to follow those who had already entered. The Reborn fell into a staggered column behind the tank and jogged with it, rapidly catching up. The tank stopped just beyond the elevator and it's turreted rotated to face the elevator itself whilst the rest of the Reborn moved to proceed towards it. The one in the lead, Vestil, raised his hand and gave a quick wave to the Elvorians before motioning to the elevator seemingly asking if there was room before moving and pressing on something on his vest.
The pilot almost jumped clean through her harness when one of the sensors beeped.
"Life signs! Nearby! They--Wait." she grunted, leaning to take a closer look. Bania turned, leaning into the cockpit.
"What is it?"
"I saw life signs for a second. Two biometrics, not far. But...they blinked out again."
"You're sure?"
"Aye, Constable. The sensor even bleeped. They were there."
Bania's brow furrowed.
"Take us there. Something might be interfering with our scanners."
"Aye aye, ma'am."
Sure enough the dropship veered, flying for the downtown markets, circling until it found a place to land. As the thrusters hissed with heat, whirring down, the Pastellas within dismounted. Only a couple had drawn weapons, others carrying various handheld scanners and boxes of medical equipment, releasing drones on the ground and in the air to get a better idea of their surroundings.
Bania stepped forward, switching her language to the Ixlo tongue as she, raising a hand and her volume, called out.
"Hello! We are the Pastel Space Patrol, we are here to help! Is there anyone here?!"
-----
The Pastellas in the mountains, meanwhile, had less to close in on. Sort of. Hopping over with blasts of thrusters to the open door, they joined the parties headed inside, Tomina leading the way, peering at the others over the rim of her aviators.
"A tank? Why did they...?" one muttered, shrugging.
"Quiet, everyone. Let's see if we can find any sort of internal comms system. Maybe we can contact any survivors down here." Tomina retorted.
"Chief Constable, what about a map? Places like this usually have those, don't they?"
"Good call. Find us any good sites to hold out and to that reactor." she nodded, leading the contingent towards the elevator.
The fighters, having sat stagnant for a while above the city, immediately responded to the life signals, swarming the market. They gave off a faint gold light, which was immediately outpowered by blaring white searchlights, illuminating the area. They did not pay much heed to the Pastellan force.
A few fighters descended, the cockpit fragmenting into several crystalline pieces, letting out a few soldiers and one researcher. The force took formation, led by a malachite Valgeral. Several unshaved crystals jutted from his back and neck, forming a collar which connected to his head through cylindrical formations. Five eyes brimmed with white light, the sixth giving off a light blue tint.
He turned, "What are you waiting for? The order hasn't changed, you are to look for survivors."
"Sir, if I may object-"
"You may not."
"Sir!" The researcher replied, much firmer this time,
"Fine, what do you want?"
"We should meet with the other nations, it would be wise to share information and statistics with them."
The leader gave a grunt of approval, "Fine."
As the team progresses into the Chilimbre marshes, they become more and more uneasy.
Altum motions for the rover to stop. Parking momentarily on a spot of drier land. He and Themis wade a small distance deeper into the marshes, while looking around. Altum would cup his hands around his field of vision as if they were makeshift binoculars, and squinted hard.
"Do you see that, Themis?"
Themis would raise an actual pair of binoculars to his eyes and looked. Penetrating deeper into the fog than his bare eyes, he tracked the apparent IR signatures of these ethereal will-o-wisps.
"Yes, I can. I can hardly make out anything, though. It's like you have a hundred candles that you're uncovering and then covering back. Not like fireflies, they wouldn't be at this temperature.."
Altum would frown, as Themis looked over, noticing the small purple sparks emmenating from his hands. A very basic technique, but one that the medic recognized. "Truesight.. what do you see?"
"I still don't know but it feels horribly out of place. Calm and still, like it's at rest. But horribly out of place."
A yelp emerged from the rover, and they hurried back to investigate. Altum opened a compartment on his left shoulder, glowing vials of hyperlumina ready for use in case of emergency. He stuck his head into the door quickly and looked around, seeing the driver with a lifted visor, looking like they'd just seen a ghost.
"I head something, capt... A voice telling me to help them, it was right next to me!"
Slowly, more crew members nodded. Whispers.. on the wind started to be heard, drifting into the rover through the open hatch.
"We're getting closer to the source, sir."
Altum nodded, instructing Themis to continue pathfinding with him.
"We need to go deeper, then. Sit tight, whatever it is can't touch us.. for now."
And thus, with the twist of a key the rover started back up, a dull hum from the engine escaping as the rover followed Altum and Themis as they continued on their journey.
Southern Mountains
With the main door open and the elevator now available for descent the teams of the Elvorians, Pastel and Dawn cramped up inside. It was not big enough for the tank, which took up most of the entry corridor and made it hard to walk around it but at least they had heavy firepower if anything tried to get out. The elevator itself only had one button to press for going down, there was no fancy control just the basics as the cage closed around them and they descended. It was a serious wait too, 10 minutes of travel downwards at speed, for those who could work it out, they had just travelled nearly 800m below the surface. No ICBM or orbital bombardment had a hope in hell of reaching this place.
When the cage doors opened they stepped out into what appeared to be a large circular vaulted atrium, three floors high with walkways circling above with concrete lips. Containers and other things had been placed in barricades facing the elevator.
And over a hundred guns were now pointed at the teams.
"Tyvel! Brinac al hagar!" One of the natives shouted loudly at those who were in the elevator, it seemed, thankfully, there were many here still very much alive.
The question now was staying alive themselves.
City of Rebirth
As the gunship touched down in the market, stalls and other things which were not tied down were blown away by the backwash. But as the engines cycled down and the tang of heated metal subsided the silence returned. There was no response to Bania from the silence.
But then she heard giggling, like a child playing. And caught moment out of her left view down one of the market alleys.
As the Arkranum fighters swooped in overhead their blazing lights illuminated the alleyway, revealed it to be entirely empty.
Yet more movement, this time in another alley. For the briefest of moments both Bania & Valgeral got a glimpse of an old man peering around the corner of a building. No life signs had been detected however.
Was this a city of ghosts?
Chilimbre Marshes
The whispers became strained as the Noviy team went deeper.
Some began to beg, to plead, then they became agitated then began to scream.
Shouts and screams at first to save them, then to join them. That they too should join with those beyond the veil. The will-o-wisps too became more daring, they approached closer, flit around the transport but never touching anything or anyone. A faint golden glow had suffused the area as well, whatever was up ahead was totally unnatural and Themis could feel dread, it was like a conduit. And the voices were coming from there.
The Pastellas instantly raised their hands, internal comms bouncing about the team of colourful robots.
-Well. I don't think we need to worry so much about that reactor.-
-I guess a few hundred meters of rock and metal will save you from just about anything.-
-Yeah. I don't think an orbital round could do more than shake some dust up this far down.-
-Quiet.- Tomina interrupted, slowly stepping forward.
"Everyone put down your weapons." she muttered at the assortment behind her, turning back as she switched to the local tongue. It was stilted and imperfect, but readily understood.
<<"Hello! My name is Chief Constable Tomina, with the Pastel Space Patrol.">> she begun, slowly unslinging her Brassmouth Repeater and placing it on the floor.
<<"When we heard your world was in trouble, we came as fast as we could, to investigate what has happened and to lend what aid we can to survivors. If you have wounded, we have brought medical supplies. If you have critical equipment in disrepair, we have brought engineers.">> she explained, peering at the native aliens over the rim of her aviators.
Finally, she repeated the oft-stated catchphrase of Pastellas everywhere.
<<"We are here to help.">>
---
The Pastellas in the market were both confused and not. Nothing, at all.
"Pilot, are you sure you saw something?" Bania asked, a finger on her comm.
"Affirmative, ma'am. Something down there, if brief. Maybe there's some form of shielded shelter? A subway, nearby?" the pilot suggested.
"A fair call." Bania grunted.
Then, a motion sensor blip. Brief, confused, uncertain. Multiple Pastellas whipped about, only to see nothing.
Something very strange was up, indeed.
"This is mighty spooky, boss."
"Can it, we're here to do our job. Alright. Everyone, spread out! Maintain contact, report if you see anything! And report if you find anything like a subway or shelter entrance!" she ordered, the Pastellas returning with the affirmative as they spread out among the markets, calling again and again that they were here to help any survivors, sensors sweeping back and forth.
The Arkranum soldiers immediately started chasing the old man, only to round the corner to see nothing but the Pastellas. They quickly approached, seemingly relieved to have found them despite prior hesitance to interact,
"Have you see anything out of the ordinary?" The leader spoke, in his resonating voice. The researcher, a diamond Arconae appeared from behind the leader, looking pleased to have finally crossed paths with other task forces.
Several whirrs echoed in the empty alleys as the drones finally caught up to the task force, still constantly taking inputs and scans, despite nothing being present.
Mikani Shiro — 28/04/2023 22:47
The elevator dinged open, and as the small team of guards begin to take a step, they were met with the barrels of well over a dozen guns. The team simply just looked at each other as they put their hands up and wondered what to do next. The Pastellas seemed to have this under control already, the agents knew better than to go in guns blazing.
"Ah..." Annabelle looked around at the bunch of strangers pointing guns at them, a sub optimal situation to say the least. Slowly putting down her weapons and then going back up again, she tried to take a closer look at the natives here in order to try and discern their identities or if they're part of the military or just a bunch of civilians finding this place.
Meriam and Samal both quickly follow the actions of the captain, putting down their weapons and putting their hands up. Samal was visibly nervous as he looked around, trying to figure out just how many of them there were, while Meriam took the initiative.
"We're with the patrol. Your planet apparently went dark, and we're here to figure out what happened. We don't intend to harm you guys, we just want to help." She tried her best to match the heroic speech of the Patrol, though, it was difficult when most of your missions start with guns blazing.
Aiobahn blankly stared off into the crowd. She was already unarmed, so no need to drop any weapons. Casually brushing aside some of her blue hair, she looked at the others like they were the odd ones out, and stepped back towards the back of the elevator, simply watching and waiting for something to happen.
The Second Dawn soldiers look relatively unphased, with one of them letting out a robotic sigh followed by muttering in what was assumingely their native language. The Reborn all looked at each other, silent understanding seemingly passing between them as they raised their hands up and slowly lowered their weapons down to the floor. However as they did so one of the Reborn in the rear whispered to those in the elevator “Anyone with lungs hold your breath or silently enable respiratory filtration until we say otherwise if you don’t want to be knocked out.” But after that seemingly nothing happened, with the Reborn simply raising hands back up. There was no sound or anything, but those in close proximity to the three Reborn in the back may feel a subtle slight release of some sort of air current around their torso that lasted for about a second before ceasing.
The Second Dawn is robotic, as we all know, so they don’t need to breathe or wear much protection from environmental threats unlike most organic species. As such they have developed a number of chemical agents for a variety of situations, with them having just deployed one of them. An oneirogenic general anaesthetic similar to Halothane except three times as volatile and twice as dangerous, designed to immobilize an organic threat within 1-2 minutes of exposure. The gas would have filled the immediate area pretty quickly, but even so the Reborn’s armour plates shifted and angled themselves slightly into optimal positions with a few quiet clacks as they prepared for the possibility of them firing upon them should the gas only partially take effect in addition those who could very slowly adjusted their positions to act as shields for those behind him.
Unfortunately, however, assent was not universal. Warnings immediately lit up in the Pastellas, and act on them they did. Shock knuckles engaged and stun rifles lifted, aimed for the Reborn.
"Gas off! We're not here to harm these people!" one of them called.
Tomina, at the front, turned on the spot, glaring over her aviators before whipping back around.
<<Masks on or clear out! Gas!>> she called, kicking the Brassmouth back into her hands as she levelled it at the Reborn.
"Explain yourselves!"
"eeeugh, good Lord what the fuck is that?" Themis faced Altum in the moment, before turning around and gazing at the spectacle unfolding. Whisps of light practically flirting with the entire team, weaving all around the stunned crew before returning to dance with the rest of the lights. "Altum, this is awful, unnatural, sick. I can feel it in my bones. Is it Balrog?"
Altum seemed in deep contemplation. Although the voices clawed at his psyche he stood in contrast to the waltzing lights
"No. These voices do not promise, they plead. It's not him, it's something different entirely."
Adamant, he waved his hand as if to repel a cloud of gnats. It became clear Themis was quite affected by this, his fingers trembling as they brushed up against the safety switch on his gun, putting not quite enough force to disengage the safety mechanism. Altum placed his hand on Themis's shoulder, and looked him directly in the eyes. Momentarily, Altum muffled external stimuli, as Themis's senses tunnel visioned on him.
He points his strong finger at the path ahead, the light of the will-o-wisps and the diffuse golden light reflecting around his crimson armor "What do you feel coming from there, Themis?"
"Feels like it's the source of all this nonsense.."
"You're damn right."
"It's a conduit of sorts, I can feel it"
Altum let go stepping further into the murky landscape, ordering the rover to follow slowly behind. He and Themis would wade further in, a crimson glow emanating from Altum. The crackling energy from him would open up some space between them and the ever daring wisps of light
As they drew closer, the gunner inside the rover would engage the weapons system mounted on top, primed and ready for what is to come, metallic thumb resting above the firing button, vision linked to a camera attached to the mounted gun.
The voices grew louder.. they were on the precipice, but what would they see?
Southern Mountains
The people before the groups were still wary but surprised when the Pastel and Elvorians spoke the native language and stated they were here to help. Some lowered their weapons, the same figure who had shouted out to them now did so again.
"Identify yourselves! Who, what are-" He was cut off mid sentence as the Second Dawn began to release gas, those closest falling to the floor knocked out. As if triggering some kind of PTSD, the remaining people mostly on the upper levels began screaming, and opened fire en mass. Bullets of both rifle and heavy calibre lit up the entrance area of the elevator, some of the natives managing to put on rudimentary gas masks and were now calling for back up.
"THEIR HERE THEIR HERE ARM EVERYONE!" was the call across the internal com system. As more collapsed from the gas the fire slackened slightly, with those not incapacitated withdrawing to further bulkheads and chokepoints.
Their withdrawal heralded the arrival of a trio of grenades being tossed at the arriving group.
City of Rebirth
Once again no sign of the old man was present as the Arkranum soldiers searched the alley, the absolute silence of the city was almost like a blanket, suffocating and all encompassing.
There was a subway entrance nearby however, two streets away. Discarded items like briefcases and shopping bags and other things lay littered across the steps and entrance almost like those carrying them had simply dropped them mid walking. The underground was dark and pitch black, ticket machines were powered off and unattended and backroom offices for the subway revealed nothing but emptiness and more evidence that people had been going about their days before the dissapearance.
Finally the Arkranum soldiers found a large civil defence nuclear shelter, it was sealed shut, the locks fully engaged and a red light showing above the door to indicate it was full. At least its own internal power appeared to be working, they just had to get in.
Chilimbre Marshes
They were almost upon the source, the marsh here was almost totally treacherous, little land and more huge deep pools of stagnant water. But a glow now suffused them, light in colour like the sun trying to burn its way through thick fog. The feeling was oppressive now, so many voices, so many pleading and screaming.
Then they saw it.
A ball of golden and yellow light, akin to the Will-O-Wisps but far larger, it seemed to distort, growing or shrinking as thread appeared to snake its way out several meters before retreating. The light was blinding to look upon and maddening like looking into something totally forbidden. So many voices.
A figure seemed to emerge, striding over the marsh as if he was walking on air.
You should not be here
Aiobahn and Annabelle thought quickly on their feet, pushing the rest of their own team into the corner of the elevator and raising their weapons. But not at the natives, but at the reborn on the other side of the elevator. Meriam managed to grab the hand of Chief Constable Tomina and brought her to her group as well.
The combined efforts of Aiobahn along with the three other Himeralt raised up a 90 degree shield around the corner. Strands of mana flowed from the center of their halos as they communally created a defensive shield. Nothing can go in, but things can still shoot out of it. Aiobahn could only hope that these were just frag grenades and nothing too catastrophic.
"Hey boss, do the Reveres still have those ATGM launchers?" Samal asked Annabelle
"What? Why are you asking-" Annabelle paused to think, slowly nodding her head. "Yeah, yeah it's stock equipment"
Annabelle reached down onto the paging equipment on her chest and silently typed out an order for their ships on the surface to arm their weapons.
Meriam thought quickly on her feet while the captain was occupied, turning into the Galahad form whilst the Reborn was occupied with trying to survive the hail of gunfire. Her humanoid form morphed and shifted grotesquely, what once were arms and legs were now crystal-like structures of armor plates and a hardened exoskeleton. A sword and a shield occupied two of her hands, as the arms closest to her chest wielded an LMG, and the tentacles on her back held up a revolver and a pistol. It was a wall of gunfire and support for her allies, and hopefully either intimidates the natives- or the reborn- to stop fighting.
"Alright you fat pussies," Meriams voice hissed, distorted and reverbing. "What's the big deal with all this? We could've had a nice chat but then you had to ruin it." Raising up her shield in front, it projected up and out to cover the majority of her body. "Shoot at us, or the natives, and maybe things won't go your way, including that tank up above too." In an enclosed and crowded space like the elevator, it was perhaps the perfect arena for a Galahad to operate in. Supported by her allies, Aiobahn especially, they had a solid chance of pacifying them.
"Oh God, the voices are people.. they're all.. people.."
Themis would instinctively raise his hand to his head as if to shield his ears, his metallic grey finger slipping against the smooth surface of his helmet; even with ears long been replaced by sophisticated acoustic sensors, the reflexive gesture surfaced as an acute response - yet it provided no solace to the beleaguered combat medic. The shrill tone of the voices infiltrated his psyche like the head of a parasite boring its way into epithelium, slithering into and infecting his being. Themis's grip on his firearm tightened as he flipped the safety of his firearm off, the pyrite light of the being gleaming off his barrel. He felt like what he pointed the cold steel of his gun at was not of his world - It did not reconcile with reality. He should not be here.
Altum sensed his comrade's degrading mental state, stepping forth.
It was as if his body was fighting against a raging river of gold, it's dissonant golden light reflecting against his shielded carapace as the torrent rushed around him. The entity before him, eerily traversing over the water like an unholy saint, appeared to defy boundaries Altum thought innate. Yet within him he found a burning determination, a voice - what he witnesses now represents something vile, something not meant to be. From where he stood in the quagmire, he inherently understood that the entity must be subverted, or shattered. He should be here.
He feels the Moiré rush through him, crimson lightning cascading through his interior, awakening his senses with greater acuity. Altums lucidity and conviction cut through the torrent before him, casting red shade over Themis, easing his comrades cognitive torment. A compartment within his wrist would dispense several heavy iron nails into the palm of his left hand, as his right reached for his weapon, hovering mere centimeters from the handle. Hyperlumina flowed into his system, artificial veins glowing blue.
"What are you, vile thing?"
"Whuh!" was the initial response from Tomina as she was pulled out of the line of fire, the rest of the Pastellas boosting up into the elevator shaft and out of view, clinging to support struts and such. And each other. Guns were not put away, however, now angled downwards. Should anyone start shooting back, native small arms would not be their only concern.
"Dammit." the Chief Constable grumbled.
"This makes things vastly harder. I doubt they'd be able to hear us over their own gunfire, so I guess our only option is to wait until they run out of bullets or stop firing, whichever happens first." she sighed.
"You have my thanks, at any rate." she gave the Elvorians a soft, appreciative smile.
---
The Pastellas in the city shook their heads in response to the Arkranum contingent, having been making sensor sweeps of their own.
"What is this? Abduction?" one muttered.
"Doubtful. No signs of panic, chaos. It's like everyone just..."
"Disappeared?"
"Yeah."
They arrived next at the shelter, observing its sealed doors.
"Hey! Do you know how to open that?" they called.
"We can bring down some sensors if not, see if we can spot any biometrics down there. Might be hard with all this stone and metal, but it might be worth a shot."
They were about to counter what the Patrol said but the second that the first ones started dropping from the gas all of the Reborn who weren’t already shoved their way to the front and raised their arms in front of their faces forming a rudimentary sort of shield before the gunfire started. The rounds that found their mark certainly hit hard, with loud cracks ringing out like armoured windows shattering as they slammed against the Reborn’s armoured figures. Some of them were unlucky enough to get hit in the servos causing a few sparks to fly off followed by pained grunts before one of them heard the grenades hit the ground. The one who had authorized the gas attack in the first place looked at them in alarm before grabbing one of the nearby Reborn and tossing them down onto the grenades which detonated a moment later, black oil splattering outward from the now very deceased Reborn’s chest. The other Reborn stared at the sight in shock before one turned and tackled their leading, pulling restraints off of their armour and hogtying them before they could react. As the natives pulled back the two others who had also followed through with the gas deployment moved to grab the restraining Reborn before finding themselves at gunpoint by the other Reborn.
Very quickly the three had been restrained and were now being held by two Reborn each as the one in the lead glanced back at the others in the elevator and motioned to what they had just done to show that they also thought it was a stupid move and try and calm those who had pointed their own weapons at the Reborn. “Yeah he’s a retard, we’ll figure out what to do with these three later but in the meantime let’s figure out how to unfuck the situation we all now find ourselves in.” One of the Reborn raised his hand and then said “Corp, we got them restrained and they’ve withdrawn. What if we offer them to the natives as a peace offering? Plus with what the Elvorian shouted out at them it might be enough to convince them not to immediately shoot at us when they come back. We’re kind of limited on options otherwise.” The newly crowned leader of the Reborn nodded before turning to the others and asking “I think it may be a good idea, I doubt they’ll trust us on words alone but the sight of us having them restrained and offering them up may be enough to convince them.”
The researcher took a few steps forward, knocking on the metallic door. A resonant ringing followed, a small shockwave flowing across the metal, "We can break through it, but should we?" He looked back at his own squad and the Pastellas. "A simple spell should warp the metal, but we could incite a panic if anyone is in there, or let whatever they're hiding from in."
The sergeant, Novrin, nodded in slight agreement, "We'll leave it to you to see if you can sense any biometrics," they looked at the Pastellas, "Looking for organic signs isn't particularly our field of expertise." It motioned towards its body.
"And!" The researched added, "If you could, try to establish communication, breaking down the door should be a last resort."
Southern Mountains
The remaining natives who had avoided the gas fired off some final rounds before retreating through various bulkheads, sealing them shut as they left. The room had three major passageways lead from direct front, left and right, all with large bulkheads which had been sealed. It would likely take a while to cut through them, and what was on the other side would almost certainly be an orchestrated killzone created by the natives to protect themselves and fight to the death. Their violent response to the gas and watching their comrades fall had clearly triggered something in them, perhaps this was related to what had happened to the rest of their species?
Thankfully those who had been knocked out by the gas were unharmed, and far enough away from the grenades to be affected.
They were their only hope of likely convincing the others that they were 'not hostile' but it was going to be hard.
City of Rebirth
As the Pastella brought up sensors and began to scan through the huge shelter door finally they found life signs. However they were faint and a small number, nowhere near what the shelter could likely hold.
Some basic attempts to make contact were undertaken, using vibrations or radio but both failed. It seemed like opening the door was the only option.
Finally the Arkranum spell was performed, warping the metal and causing the door to open although the strain of the twisting metal sounded horrible. But they had entry. Inside the lighting was dim, the air was thick and generally unpleasant. Rows of bunkbeds and split off rooms for storage took up every inch of space. The majority of the beds were empty, but on several and splayed across the floor were the unconscious bodies of native peoples. Not everyone had gone it seemed, but there was luggage, belongings and more which indicated far more people had been here, had they left? Or had they disappeared into thin air.
Upon closer scan too the readings around those who were unconscious changed, initially out of the ordinary a routine scan determined something simple.
They were psionic nulls.
Chimlimbre Marshes
The figure came closer, revealing a soldiers uniform. Equipment, armour, weapons.
And a scythe.
Emblazoned upon the shoulder of the man was the symbol of the Army of the Synopticon.
They had a hand in this.
I am the one who delivers these people to paradise, to realise their true potential. Leave here, your time will come
The Pastellas, once the gunfire subsided and the threat, for the moment, passed, immediately sprung into action.
"Go! Go! Medics, make sure they're alright!" Tomina called, gesturing with her hand as the rest of the colourful machines dropped back into the room, hurrying out of the elevator.
The bodies of the unconscious were moved, grouped together where they could more readily be kept a collective eye on. Then, of course, the medics got to work; biometrics quickly checked to find what medicines they had on hand would work best to first clear out the gas and its vapours from their systems, minimise any lasting damage, before finally ones to rouse the aliens would be administered.
If nothing else, they were on the dot about things.
As for the Pastellas in the city, they were equally snappy.
The curious nature of the survivors was, for the moment, disregarded; it was something to be seen to later. Some of the Pastellas commented on it, musings about nulls being left behind, but the medics barely even acknowledged this. Once more, medical kids popped open as biometrics were scanned, looking for any signs of physical or neurological damage before working to rouse the aliens. For the time being, bringing the survivors somewhere safe was paramount to the Pastellas; the exact details of what threatened them could be ascertained later.
Bania, sighing, turned to the security Pastellas, crossing her arms.
"Head back to the surface. Signal orbital and Director Wessel, tell them we have survivors, all unconscious. Requesting permission to bring them starside for protection and treatment."
"Aye aye, ma'am!" the other Pastella nodded with a salute, springing off back to the surface.
The researched slowly walked back from the door, now completely shredded from the spell, the dust clearing to reveal the nulls.
"What's, wrong with them?" he looked at the Pastellas as they treated the 'survivors', awaiting a response, but it was clear they were busier with more important things.
Novrin took out a small gadget, establishing a line of communication with the Apollyon to inform them of their current discoveries and observations. None of the soldiers were familiar with psionics or their effects, this was something brand new for them, and the Tsardom had never interacted with psionic nations beforehand, at least not directly.
The Reborn nodded to each other, clearly in agreement about what to do with their... hyperactive commanders as they roughly brought them out from the elevator and pushed them down onto the ground before one lightly slapped the back of his hand against the new leaders chest to beckon his attention, the leader turned to the individual and said "What is it, Syber? Kind of bus-" But cut himself off when he saw what the one he called Syber was pointing at: The unconcious natives... Hm, there could be a plan there...
The one called Syber shouted out to the pastellans tending to the unfortunate gas victims with an intrigued tone "HEY! Yeah, you! Got an idea about this. I assume you're trying to wake them up? What if we offer their comrades up with these dumbasses here? A show of peace that we weren't here to fuck with them and that these ones are responsible maybe? It might go a long way of convincing them!" Syber then turned to his leader who shrugged and said to Syber "I mean fuck, not like we can mess this up anymore then we already have. It's worth a shot if it gets them to try and calm down I guess, I got no problems with it." The leader then turned back towards those in the elevator and said "You guys alright with it?"
"Fucking... hell." The others lowered their shields after the grenades exploded in the elevator. They had specifically chosen to preserve themselves and whatever pastel forces they were able to grab along the way. The semi-transparent shield began to glow a brilliant prismatic, before turning opaque and eventually shattering like glass, sending fragments falling onto the floor. Aiobahn mindlessly kicked a few of the pieces back and forth while the others tried to salvage the current situation.
"Sure, try and convince the people you gassed that actually the people inside gassed them. Not like they've been stuck here for god knows how long and have filtered all of those who have dared to think against the norm an-" Meriam was interrupted by Annabelle putting her hand up to the 'mouth' of the Galahad. The organic beast returned back to its humanoid form, muttering about how all of this is just going to make a routine mission last way longer than it should.
"Well, let's just get this over with." Annable knelt down next to one of the unconscious members of the natives, quickly looking over their vital signs and general body before ushering Aiobahn closer. "Aiobahn, come here."
Aiobahn looked towards the unconscious aliens and wondered what Annabelle wanted her to do. Magic? Well, it was her forte after all. So as she knelt down and held out her hands, Annabelle pushed them back.
"You've done enough magic already Ms. Magician. Pass me that red pack there can you?" Pausing, Aiobahn silently grabbed the crimson bag from her back and brought it over to Annabelle. Labeled 'CBRN & MED', Annabelle pulled out a tiny gas mask and put it over the persons mouth, before also pulling out a tiny crystal. A tiny paper label denoted 'FOR WAKING UP - CANNOT REVIVE DEAD' on the crystal.
Holding up the crystal above the unconscious native, Annabelle closed her eyes and crushed it in between her two hands. Letting the fragments fall into the palm of Aiobahn, waiting to collect it below.
"Oh for Tiphereth above, let these innocent beings wake up once more. For Safi, let this crystal be an offering for your services. Let this journey be one of success." Annabelle quietly chanted under her breath as she slowly opened her eyes.
At first, nothing. Then, from the crumbled fragments in the palm of the mage, thin whisps of mana spooled out from the crystal. Like birds in the clouds, they danced in place for a while, before eventually flying off towards all of the unconscious natives nearby. The thin strands entered the bodies of those who were on the ground, the wisps impacting the neck and letting out a pale blue glow.
"Well, now we wait. Hopefully your supplier is legit, Aiobahn." Annable stood up and brushed her hands off of any stray dust from the crystal, and waited, her team standing by behind her.
For just a moment, it felt like the world stood still. The air itself had become solid, cold; the water through which Altum trudged was tar. For the first time since setting foot on Ixlo, he was scared - deeply unnerved by the presence of the figure, who passed over water as if it were like any floor.
Altum listened carefully in the silence - or perhaps this was no silence, did he hear ringing in his ear? Unlike tinnitus, it was as if the shrill pitch began to harmonize and modulate, forming a cohesive sound. No, this was no ringing - it was a melody, a harmony that permeated through Scylla beyond just audio receptors, much deeper and down to his core.
It was a melody he had heard before, that of the Moire - waxing and waning through its states. The eternal melody was louder and so much clearer than he had ever heard before, one song following another, blending into the next, and the next ad infinium. His heartbeat, his body, the activity of his very neurons began to resonate with the melody, the air around him becoming fluid once more, the water at his knees freely flowing again. His fear began to dissipate, like black tendrils losing their grasp on his heart. He closes his eyes for a moment, raising a foot, and planting it on the water - using it as leverage to get the rest of his body up, until he stands on the water as well, eye level to his opponent.
“What you are, to where you bring the people of Ixlo is a thing wicked and terrible. A perversion of what is just; a scourge. I can feel the anguish in those voices - I cannot stand idly by as you tear away what sanctity of soul these people had. I have never met these people, and yet I stand with them, and you, against.”
The silence was broken by the sound of two sources of gunfire. Themis gripped his weapon with vigor as he clenches his teeth, his finger firmly curled and pulling his trigger, the battle rifle singing it’s own song as the autocannon on the rover lit up the marsh, water splashing while sparks of brass were flung around, careening across the landscape.
Altum rapidly unsheathed his weapon, the almost mirror like quality of his blade reflecting the crimson hues of the vectors manifesting all around Altum. Artificial muscles flex and hydraulics hiss as Altum pushes himself forward, towards the soldier of the panopticon.
Southern Mountains
Through a combination of quite easy on hand drugs and the Elvorian magic those knocked out by the gas began to come too. Groggy and not in the best state they awoke, only to immediately panic.
They had after all been knocked out and some leapt to their feet, either trying to back away and help their others waking up while some of the larger males actually tried to rush the aliens. A couple of thrown punches was the worst they could muster.
"Who are you! What did you do to us!" Cries from them called out, they were terrified.
"Their with the wraiths!"
"Are we going to die?"
City of Rebirth
As the nulls were helped out of the shelter their condition showed that they had suffered almost similiar symptoms to concussion. They were disorientated, in pain and shown cranial swelling. Whatever had happened had affected all of them, around 9 in total, equally. Still they were taken to the surface as a beacon was set up. At least the Tsardom was able to get some close range readings and study them somewhat.
As the two groups gathered for the shuttle landing in the large open market area a single man walked into view.
He was not Ixlo.
Wearing combat gear he staggered into view from one of the side streets, wearing a fully black outfit and appearing to be struggling to walk the individual came forward towards the group. Once more, the Army of the Synopticon was emblazoned on his uniform, although with an unknown marking in addition.
It was then he started crying. Babbling to himself before the cry became a scream that shook the entire city. The psionic cry shattered windows, cracked concrete and made metal brittle in the overwhelming onslaught of power.
Chilimbre Marshes
Then you have made the biggest mistake of your life
The rounds whipped across the marshes, breaking the silence and cries of those who had been taken as they impacted around the unknown foe. The Unical scythe came up fast, rotating with such speed as to intercept the rounds mid air, sending them careening into pools of water or the sodden earth.
What is done here is done, this is just sport
With an outstretched hand a wave of immense emotional sadness swept across the Novish force, like drowning in a tide of apathy and depression that sapped the very will to love from those affected.
A moment later the psion brought his scythe up against Altum, a defensive posture with which to let the Novish psion make the first strike.
The soldiers felt the scream shake the very fibre of their being, their mineral bodies nearly shattering like the glass surrounding them. Immediately, everysingle one of them cast their spells, surrounding themselves in impossibly sharp fractal-like mana. Norvin surrounded himself in flame, blaring white with heat. They all pointed their attacks at it, guns cocked and wits high. A few drones had fallen to the ground in the attack, now broken, no more than little toys now.
The researcher, Alkih, sent out a quick message to the Apollyon. backing off from the conflict, dazed by the scream, he wasn't prepared to fight. Pieces of rebar and metal ripped away, forming a shield in front of him.
An intangible cloud of despair settled over the minds of the Novish like a thick fog, obfuscating their vision and judgment. The suffocating effect took hold immediately as the gunner’s hand fell limp, resting on the joystick which operated the weapon; as his hand uselessly laid on the control, the gun barrel pointed further and further up until it reached the limit of it’s coaxial mount, whereupon the gun would stop firing as his hand slipped off, with no will to raise it, let alone operate the vehicle.
Themis’s fate was more grave, as his very knees buckled under his weight. His very reason to be was clouded over, as his will to live, to even operate a body, flickered in faded. He fell to his knees, and then splashed face first into the marsh water. He sank into ankle deep water, content to simply lose himself to the quagmire and perish. Slowly, bubbles rose from his respiration unit as CO2 was extracted from his blood. His oxygen supply would run dry, eventually - should he not be pulled out soon.
Altum was brought down by the cloud of despair, yet he found it in him to resist - he was no stranger to this form of attack, yet he had never experienced it so intensely. It stripped away his veneer of heroism, as within the mind of Altum a truth rang supreme. The soldier of the panopticon is right, what is done has been done - this is merely bloodsport. The tone of the moire shifted down an octave once Altum internalized this fact; his act was vengeance for Ixlo. He grips the hilt of his sword tightly as he slowly unsheathes it. His heartbeat was deafening, as his vision began to artefact and distort. Something began to overcome him, that which began to push away from his core principles. He blinks, his pupil had altered to become a line, reptilian in appearance.
He took on an outwardly aggressive stance, raising his blade into a Von Tag stance. Closing the gap to the panopticon soldier, he slashed horizontally, aiming for the handle of the scythe. As the blade cut through the air, magnetic field lines in red became perceptible, as Altum augmented his strike with innate magnetic force.
Altum’s expression was mixed, impossible to read. Yet, it was equally for Altum himself to resolve the conflict being waged internally. A glimmer of hope flickered, in where he could bring salvation to at least some of Ixlo's lost souls, yet it was eclipsed by the whirlwind he felt in his heart. Fragments of emotion, all seeping and mixing within him, a cascade set off initially be the despair the panopticon soldier brought upon Altum.
The Pastellas in the bunker were quick to react, empty hands shown to make it clear they were unarmed.
The ones tending to them, at least. Punches were dismissed with the clang of metal and a displeased noise.
Tomina, however, stepped forward once again.
<<"I'm terribly sorry about that, everyone. Not everyone here is from the same nation, and we could not predict how some of them,">> she paused, a glare thrown in the direction of the Reborn,
<<"would react. I promise you, we are not here to hurt you, and we will do our best to make sure nobody else does, either. We already have teams in your city, looking for other survivors. I am Chief Constable Tomina of the Pastel Space Patrol, and we are here to help.">> she reassured, a confident smile crossing her metallic features, a hand placed to her armoured chest.
<<"Unfortunately, the rest of your brothers in arms have sealed themselves behind bulkheads, for...obvious reasons. I don't expect they'll listen to us, not at this exact moment.">>
---
The Pastellas within that same city Tomina had mentioned were having a very different time. Machines of metal and circuit, the scream shook them to their core, several collapsing to hands and knees as damage alerts rang out and sensors screamed. Bania herself all but fell backwards with a crash of steel, her processors struggling to register a scream that could not just be answered by muffling audio receptors.
One Pastella, a regular Officer by the name of Kodana, however, wasn't about to be taking it lying down. Whether it was stubbornness, impulsive reflex or a slightly sturdier than average construction, the android hadn't yet fallen down. Her sensors were still a blur as they were rattled like nails in a can and her section binds were wearing like she was a solid decade older, but she was standing.
And her pistol was still in hand.
Relying on naught more than impulse and panic the Pastella raised the gun, no thought being put to fire control, protocol or even what setting her gun was on. That required more level-headed thinking than she was able to muster right now.
The hissing buzz of a pulsed electrolaser, a stungun meant to hammer a foe into the floor but preferably avoid killing them, rang out in the direction of the babbling man.
One of the Reborn looked at Meriam with a "what the fuck are you talking about" look before Syber silenced them before they could actually say that with a gentle bop on the head, turning to Meriam and saying "Wrong, pay attention to what I said. I mean offer the guilty party-" He lightly kicked one of the aforementioned idiots that somehow passed the command exam "-over to stand... I don't know trial or something, whatever they call justice here, in tandem with returning their comrades unharmed and without other conditions as a peace offering."
The Reborn that had given Meriam the sassy gesture beforehand pointed to Syber as if to say "what he said" before another one looked at Tomina and awkwardly shrugged in response to the glare thrown their way, how were they supposed to know that their officers were idiots? They got paid to follow orders, not think for themselves. However another Reborn, who actually had a name-plate on his armour which read out as 'Network' then suddenly spoke up loud enough for all to here:
"I'm curious as to what they meant by wraiths... And although their negative reaction to the... gas situation, ahem, was expected it seemed a bit more terrified and desperate then what one would expect. Why not stand and fight? They certainly had the manpower to do it and we were in an enclosed space, why retreat behind armour when you have a clear advantage?"
Syber looked to Network and seemed to think about that before raising a hand and pointing at him before tacking on "It could be a translator malfunction or something, but you've got a point there. If they had stood and pressed the attack we would have been completely fucked, why would they be so spooked? Surely they have some sort of training to maintain emotional cohesion. Right?"
Southern Mountains
"There are no other survivors! We checked!" They were still panicked but Tominas approach had stopped them from at least lashing out or reacting poorly.
"They will have initiated lockdown I dont think they will listen to you at all. Is everyone still alive?"
There were murmurings in the group, they counted each other to ensure nobody had been killed.
"Given you haven't killed us your... Your alien arent you? How do you know our language?" One asked.
"They wont open the lockdown for you, not after what happened" Said another.
"Are the wraiths still here? Please we cant let them take us"
City of Rebirth
The shot from the Pastella Kodana likely saved them and the Arkranum as it impacted the man dead on. The pulse caused him to let out a whimper before collapsing onto the ground out cold.
The Nulls, seemingly unaffected by what had just happened were confused and frightened, one pointed at the collapsed man.
"Wraith! Their back!"
The 9 of them panicked, most huddled crying while two others tried to run off for some illusion of shelter in the streets.
But there was another scream. Like the mans.
It was further off, several kilometers away, then another, then another. It was like indivudual screamed ringing out across the city, each one able to be picked up by aerial assets. Nothing could be seen from their origin points but they seemed to be getting closer to the group.
Chilimbre Marshes
Thats the spirit
The scythes tip came up to parry the horizontal slash metal ringing out against metal in the unquiet marshes. As the other Noviy struggled Altum and the unknown individual fought.
A riposte, a feint, another strike then another. Altum struck and struck, the enemy neither striking him in return or letting a hit get through. He was good, very good.
But he had been stalling.
Black things, like floating balls of tentacles that dripped with some kind of golden grime had manifested above the Noviy, attracted like moths to a flame they enveloped individuals in their mass of tendrils before dissapearing. Taking the unfortunate victims with them into whatever realm they had sprung from. Was this what had happened to the Ixlo?
More. Come on more!
The chatter of the Reborn was ignored by the Pastellas, as Tomina's brow furrowed.
<"To answer your question first,"> she looked to the soldier who had asked about their language.
<"The wider galaxy has been aware of your planet for...a little while now. Observed, mainly, by various parties. We would have come to help when your planet suffered a nuclear war, but unfortunately our organisation is...still quite new. We collected linguistic data from observers.">
A pause.
<"And yes, we are alien, though I promise we aren't the sort to abduct people like flying saucers. We are the Pastel Space Patrol, fighting for peace and justice across the stars."> she reaffirmed, one of the Pastellas behind her pausing what they were doing to briefly strike a pose.
At this, however, her shoulders sagged some.
"Unfortunately, we don't really know who these wraiths you speak of are, but we're currently investigating. If your superiors know anything about them, we'd be happy to offer our assistance in anything you need, all we would like is any information you have. I know they won't listen to us, but we were hoping they might listen to you."> she explained, gesturing to one of the bulkhead doors.
---
The Pastellas stumbled back to their feet, sensors recalibrating and diagnostics initiating.
"Good...good shot..." Bania grunted, giving Kodana a thumbs up. Pastellas, disoriented but quickly coming back to their senses, hurried after the civilians who tried to flee, assuring them they would bring them to safety.
"If he moves again, put another shot in him." she breathed to Kodana, who nodded, both hands on her Sunflash Pistol.
Then screams rang out across the city.
That didn't bode well.
Bania almost swore.
She raised a hand to her comm.
"Aerial, we need extraction on the double. Unknown assailants, some sort of sonic or psychometric attack. We have local civilians here in need of rescue."
Next, she turned, pointing to one of the other Pastellas, currently checking their Sunflash Rifle.
"Go check if there's some sort of subway map. If we want to find more survivors with minimal chance of having to fight more of whoever these guys are, we'll want quick surgical drops." she explained, the Pastella nodded, rushing back into the subway tunnel.
Her eyes then drifted to the Arkranum.
"Do you guys need a lift out too?"
Something utterly animalistic and instinctual screamed within Themis, jumpstarting his body. His will to live crushed the Panopticon soldier’s cloud of despair - yet on a cellular level he retained functionality as he was enveloped by the black mass, blocking his airways. Mitochondria burn through the oxygen supply, releasing carbon dioxide which dissolves into blood. Carbonic acid levels rise. pH drops and chemoreceptors flash with activity, sending signal after signal through his nervous system. From, the medulla, adrenaline floods his body, lighting him up like a halogen light. Themis writhes, grabbing his knife from his belt, under an evolutionary spell to survive, stabbing and struggling as he is transported against his will, violently clawing against the tentacles with his free hand.
Altum knew he was up against something far more potent than him. Psion that they may be, the nimble parries, blocks, and deft evasions of Altum’s aggression, his opponent had mastered the art of not only psionic combat but the physical as well - this was entertainment to them.
"While you're at it, Panopticon fiend, if you insist on drawing this out, why don't you let me know what you did to the ixloans?" He practically barks at the soldier
The water around Altum began to ripple and spatter, red geometry flickering into being where he stood above the surface of the water, his boots hovering just above - Altum skimmed, footwork speeding up as he amped up the aggression - the air became electric as pungent ozone accumulates. Alum’s sword slices through magnetic currents, charge moves down the length of his blade and into his body. He had become an electric dynamo.
His left gauntlet which had held onto a handful of iron needles opens, the barbs flinging out towards the panopticon soldier as if by the force of a Gauss gun.
After they regained their own stability, every single one still laser focused on the fallen enemy before them, "We're good." And as if almost on command, a transmission came in from the Apollyon, snapping some of the soldiers out of their focus, "We're ready to extract if need be. I don't plan on losing any men today. Additional drones are making their way down now." The transmission ended, the Admiral looking away from his control panel. He tried to see if he could get any information about the source of the scream, turning on the sensors of the Apollyon for another reading.
Alkih knelt down, still behind his shield, letting out a pulse into the ground to see if he could feel for any passageways and tunnels, maybe even survivors, but it seemed unlikely that he'd be able to find any, especially seeing that the ones they'd found seemed to be on the brink.
The Reborn nodded to eachother as they listened in on Tomina's conversation with them, meanwhile Syber motioned for Network to come over. Once he had, Syber leaned in close and whispered to him "I don't like the looks of this, there's clearly something going on. They seem shocked to see us, well Aliens I mean, but they don't have the technology to have caused the anomaly that brought us here in the first place. I was thinking that maybe it was a state-actor that had done this all in the beginning but with their reactions to our arrival? I'm beginning to question that."
Network nodded before whispering back to him "It's possible that the actor behind the anomaly could have been a tech-revolutionary amongst their own people, perhaps some experimental W-M-D or some sort of triggered anomaly? There are a lot of hypotheticals revolving around if it was one of their own that caused this. But let's discard that and say it was an external State Actor, who in the Galaxy screams out as the type to do this?"
Syber scratched the underside of his chin, deep in thought for a few seconds before he responded "Maybe something to do with Magic or Psionics? My money would be on Magic but I don't think we've seen any mana thingies or psionic activity, surely something like that has to leave some sort of cue right? My question is though, let's say it is an external actor then who the fuck would care about a nation of prims that nuked themselves to oblivion?"
Network tilted his head with a chuckle, thinking about that for a second before holding up a finger and walking over to the native soldiers. He held his hands out disarmingly before crouching down before one of them and saying in a slow, calm tone "Hey, my names Network. Now, can you explain to me what these Wraiths are? Are they... well for lack of a better word, Magical in nature? Do they operate in a way that can't be explained by your scientific knowledge?"
Southern Mountains
"Then... You could have prevented this?" The question to the Pastellas hung heavy.
"The wraiths are like some old legends of magical beings, of strange lights and voices carried on the wind to magic people away in the night or who get lost in the marshes around the planet. One day everyone started hearing voices, then the screaming started... Strange things came out of thin air, they killed soldiers, took the bodies, we tried to fight back but the things were beyond us. They were helped by some who looked like you, they rounded crowds up, connected them to some kind of string them disappeared into thin air... Those of us who could hide did so" The reply was to both Network and Tomina.
"What are they?" Another asked.
"We will do as you ask, they may not listen to us the wraiths did things to people, turned them into puppets but we will try"
The group uneasily moved away from the new arrivals and towards one of the bulkheads, a few gesturing for them to stay well back. A small but heavily reinforced slat in a door rolled back, followed by some conversation. Tense moments followed before the main bulkhead opened.
Soldiers strode outwards, weapons held high and pointed at the group.
"I see no strings on them, but be careful they struck us. You, aliens. Talk. Tell me what happened to my people and explain your damn actions! We may not be alone now but we will fight!" The commander shouted aloud, weapon raised at the group.
City of Rebirth
Even as the maddened cries rang out across the city the pulse from the Arkranum gave them some idea of the layout below. Several mainline tunnels ran across the city and many had branches coming off them. At each station as could be felt seemed to be some kind of shelter, some small some large. Whether there was anyone alive within them was unknown but they could be checked out if they wished.
If they had time.
The wailing was getting louder even as the extraction craft came in to get them. They could at least evacuate those they had found, and pull back themselves if they wished. Searching for more survivors was an option, if they could survive the terror that was coming for them.
Chilimbre Marshes
The sudden hail of needles took the psion by surprise, stitching several into his left side as he tried to block knocking several away into the marsh. The psion returned to a guard stance, not visibly in pain but moving somewhat slower.
"We gave them salvation. While the galaxy watched them struggle we uplifted them, gave them the future their race deserved. They have great gifts. It is ironic that you deny them a rightful future"
Even as some of the Noviy fought off the strange floating masses the psion outstretched a hand, the marsh seeming to rumble as the water surged clasping around Altum in a ball trying to both drown him and his dyanmo.
"...Looked like us...?" one of the Pastellas muttered under her breath. They weren't entirely sure what to make of that. No Patrol unit had set foot here before, to the knowledge of their records, though they supposed that the aliens didn't necessarily mean explicitly them.
In response to the soldiers' questions, Tomina paused, her eyes downturned as she let out a faux sigh.
<"...Maybe."> she finally answered. <"Our organisation is young. Younger than your own people, in fact. We're still working on establishing our own presence; it's a little easier said than done being a galactic police force across, well...an entire galaxy."> she explained.
<"If we had had the capacity we would have, and we wanted to. But, some other organisations barred access to your world, saw it as a chance for study on society and such. I can't offer any justification for their choices, but they limited ours."> she continued. Her words damned the research groups that had been studying the planet, but it was better to be honest here, in her eyes.
When the soldiers emerged from the bulkhead, Tomina again raised her hands, the other Pastellas lowering or slinging what few weapons they had.
She looked over her shoulders, at the other parties.
"Try not to gas them again, ey?"
Her gaze turned back.
<"Apologies for the trouble. There are...about three parties here, and we could not anticipate what all of them would do. I assure you, though, that none of us attacked your planet. I am Chief Constable Tomina of the Pastel Space Patrol. We don't know what happened to your people, but one of our reasons for coming here is to find out.">
A pause. Tomina going to speak again before a Pastella dropped from the elevator shaft, running over and relaying something to them. Tomina, at whatever was said, smiled.
<"If it's any consolation, however, we have found a handful of survivors in the city. We're bringing them to orbit now, to keep them safe and get them any medical attention they need.">
-
Within that very city, the Pastellas scrambled aboard their dropship, helping the survivors aboard alongside.
"Everyone's aboard, go, go!" Bania called to the pilot, as the aircraft begun gaining altitude. She turned to her team.
"Did you get a map?"
"Yes ma'am."
"Good." she nodded, raising a finger to her comm.
"Orbital, this is Constable Bania. We're bringing survivors to you now, but if there were some in one nuclear shelter there may be more in others. Requesting rapid airdrops to others. Relaying acquired map intel now."
A pause.
"This many, Constable?"
"Yes ma'am. What was the point of coming here without saving as many as we can?"
"...Acknowledged. Any contact advice?"
"Shelter entrances are sealed, may have to blow them open. Unknown contacts have some form of area-of-effect psychometric attack, we only pulled through thanks to my Officer Kodana. Recommend overwatch and some heavier weaponry."
"Acknowledged, Constable. Scrambling drop teams now."
Time almost slowed as Norvin contemplated the situation. Above him the faint shape of the Apollyon could be made out, ready to rescue them. On the other hand, they were here to rescue people, was this the right call? But a decision had to be made, and one that had to benefit his people. He touched his console, a request being made for extraction. Several drones came down, dragging the team into their hulls before shooting back up to the Apollyon. Even though it seemed they had abandoned their mission, a few drones stayed down, most notably the general's. It hovered for a short second, before sprouting out arms and legs,
"We won't abandon the people of this planet, I'll provide help to the best of my ability." A muffled voice came out of the body suit. Two more Arkranumi stood by his side, in similar suits of armour.
"What now?"
Network turned to the other Reborn and made a confused beep at the primitive's answer, only to be met with shrugs of confusion by the other Reborn before Network turned his attention back towards the soldiers in front of him and said "This is understandable, go and grab your superiors. It's not like we'll be going elsewhere anyways." With that Network stood up and returned to his group and turned to Syber before saying "I'm not educating on this so called magic or any psionic forces, hell I don't think there's any official training material for either for our ranks." Syber nodded his agreement before adding on "I don't know much either, and neither do we truly know the situation here to be able to firmly point our fingers in a solid direction. The Wraith's sound familiar in their operations though, didn't we get briefed on something like that a couple of years ago? Some sort of foreign state actor that could fuck with your mind?" Network just gave him another confused shrug before saying "I think so, yeah, but I barely paid attention to those briefings. The E-P-A's policy at the time was isolationism and observation, I don't think anyone from section even left the country until a few years after that and that was just watching stuff in the outer Unmar Expanse region."
Syber reached up and scratched his metallic chin, but then the main bulkead opened and more native soldiers strode out prompting Syber to smack the shoulders of his troops and point towards them. The Reborn slowly turned to face the natives, weapons still on chest slings and hands remaining empty as Syber raised a hand towards the one that demanded them to explain themselves, until Tomina made the gassing comment to which Syber flipped her the bird before focusing his attention back on the natives. He waited until Tomina was done before tacking on "Similar story here, Syber of the Second Dawn's Executive Protection Agency. We got sent here to see what was up and when we came down here we got a bunch of guns shoved in our face and our dumbass commanders figured best way to resolve the situation without anyone getting hurt was to toss out some sleeping-gas. We didn't mean to hurt any of you, honest. We were just trying to give ourselves an opportunity to explain ourselves without startling you guys." The rest of the Reborn nodded their agreement whilst also pointing to the Reborn that were presently hog-tied onto the floor, with Syber tacking on "Those ones. Once things had calmed down we gave them a bit of... corrective discipline in response for their reckless actions. If you want to take them to administer your own judgement that's fine with us, it'd honestly be a better fate then what's gonna wait for them back on our ship."
Darker, yet darker.
Themis struggled to remember what had been done to him. Floating balls of tentacles, dripping with this viscous golden liquid. They enveloped me, and they took me somewhere. Where am I?
Themis postulated to himself, he could not see nor feel beyond the ocean of black which he had been plunged into unwillingly. Themis outstretched his hand, searching for something to hold onto. Something material - but nothing would surface. He was alone, or was he? There were others here, he felt - a burning curiosity to know more. What had transpired? Is this where the Ixlo went? He visualized his body, his combat vest. There was a cord to pull, upon which a bright azure flame would come alight. He closed his eyes, making a silent prayer - as he pulled the silver cord with all his might. Would the azure flame help him see in the dark?
▒░▒▓▓▒▓▒▒▒▓▒▓▒▒▒▒░▒▓▓▒▓▒▒▒▓▒▓▒▒▒▒░▒▓▓▒▓▒▒▒▓▒▓▒▒▒
The marsh rose and bent around Altum, enveloping him in a sphere of water and debris. However, it was not like being suspended in a fishbowl - it was as if the panopticon psion had thrust him a thousand leagues deep, where the pressure would cave in anybody without a pressurized suit. A searing pain screamed within him as he was crushed, a deeply instinctual desire to crawl out and be bree overtook Altum’s synthetic limbs: with a yell his wings unfurled, practically exploding outward as he sent a jet of water towards the panopticon psion.
Water… in its pure form is non conductive. However, with only miniscule amounts of dissolved impurities, an insulator can become a potent conductor - impurities which the marsh water was teeming with. Altum unstretched a hand, and from his fingers crackled lightning traversing the jet current flung at the panopticon psion. Like an electric eel, the charge in the water to writhe and bubble, being flung out by the motion of Altums wings.
“So tell me, as your witness - of this future you have granted them?” Alum’s voice booms, being carried by turbulent oscillations of the water.
Southern Mountains
"Taking them to orbit? Why? You say we have been studied?" The commander and the soldiers looked weary, frightened. This enlightening information merely made the look worse.
"Someone or something prevented our help even as they watched... You speak of the galaxy, like its some populous place. What kind of medical attention? And... How many survivors? We have heard nothing from anyone else on the planet, we thought we were the only ones left." He then turned to Syber with a frown, his gun did not lower.
"So you were the ones who gassed us? You better thank whatever god that it was not lethal, we were debating detonating the ICBMs still under this mountain, you may never have lived this long as a result"
After a tense moment they lowered their weapons, at least to the point of no longer aiming directly at the alien arrivals. Two medics of their own came over to check on the previously unconscious individuals.
"So what's your plan? Can you save those who were taken or... Is that it for us? We barely have 200 here. That's not enough to keep a world going, your taking the other to orbit what do you plan to do with them after?
City of Rebirth
Contacts were appearing now, like before life signs appeared then disappeared on sensors as the city was starting to come alive.
All were wails, cries, shouts of anguish, pain and suffering. The cries someone would make in their final moments of their lives.
The first two shelters nearby were empty, quick deployments found them empty of bodies but still full to the brim with belongings and signs that life had once been here. There were another ten shelters of various sizes, all were designated drop zones it seemed.
The third did have two survivors, both nulls while the fourth was also empty despite its huge size.
But as the Pastella conducted their in and out attempts and the Arkranum assisted crossing ground quickly through the city the first shapes of the foe began to manifest. Soldiers, walking seemingly out of thin air with glowing golden eyes surrounded by shambling figures who screamed, began converging guns raised and opened fire.
Chilimbre Marshes
The wails of the dead and dying greeted Themis.
He pulled the azure flame, the silver cord and light flooded his surroundings. He knew he wasnt in some psionic dimension, things were far too normal for that. But that's where the normality ended, and where the horror began.
He was in a huge pit, surrounded by bodies. Ixlo, in their tens of thousands. Some were dead, some tried weakly to climb on others to escape or wept in some crevice of flesh. Above them was a strange light, which would flitter down with tendrils to grab an individual and pull them upwards kicking and screaming. Terrible noises followed, crunching, wet grinding. The screaming became a gargle then ceased altogether. The remains of the body, little more than viscera collapsed back down into the pit.
This was some kind of terrible charnal house, the Ixlo were being used as a resource.
Themis had to escape, he could feel through the cord that seemed to float into nothingness, still connect to Altum. Perhaps he could reopen the way...
-
The enemy writhed as the electricity shot through him. No longer jumping at speed his body stood still tensing as muscles fired uncontrollably.
It gave Altum a brief window before he finally broke free, creating a blast emanating from himself as a wave of water crashed over the surrounding area.
"Your friends here will discover that soon enough, as will you!"
“Oh.. oh lord..”
Themis’s knees buckled momentarily as the sight and sound worked its way inside the man. Writhing like live wire, digging into his optic nerve, and into the medulla.
Heugh
With a heave, Themis felt his body reject his stomach contents, and yet it was dry. Themis hadn't eaten proper in a day, and the comfort of a meal felt like a distant memory. It was a pleasant one, a candle of sanity in this wretched and vile realm.
They’re using them… like…
The scenery before him continued to writhe, another Ixloan being dragged off into the heavens to their demise - a decayed, corrupted rapture, and Themis knew in his bones that he’d meet the same fate if he failed to act.
… like cattle.
He grabbed the cord floating weightless in the air like the tendrils of a deep sea jellyfish. He tugged at it, feeling the presence of his comrade through it - as if he were connected, albeit weakly; and the sensation came to him. Violence, his comrade waged war on the other end of the string. The Altum that gave Themis cover, who shared a meal with him on the shuttle was still there, but he was changing. Themis could feel his mind cloud over, the sound and touch of marsh-water flooding his mind.
He held the cord tight enough to puncture through the fabric of his glove, through the tissue of his skin, as his palm wept crimson tears from the resulting lesion. Against the sound of sickening wet grinding, guts falling from above and hitting the ground, the wailing and moaning Themis spoke for the first time since entering this horrible place.
“Do you hear me?”
---
Altum broke free of the watery chokehold, marsh dripping down his crimson chassis, leaves and debris sticking to his body through the adhesion of water. The fiery gaze of his now reptile eyes. Thin, smooth armor was beginning to segment, slowly warping to form scales. Altum had not breathed real air in over five years, but with his internal rebreather broken in the fight, air gushed in and out of artificial lungs - hot like a furnace - leaves and fibers smoldering and burning as they passed in front of his visage.
He felt the magnetic pull of Ixlo itself, the field lines crossing his vision like overexposed lights. Without even thinking, he dashed towards the panopticon psion - his cognition morphing. He never studied anatomy, and yet his eyes transfixed themselves upon the carotid artery in the neck. Altum could feel the iron in his opponent’s blood move through his vasculature as he opened a clawed hand to strike.
And yet, a pinprick on his palm. He felt the ghostly fiber of no apparent origin, tugging at his hand.
Altum hesitated for a moment, instead diverting his strike to disarm the panopticon soldier before him. Yet the connection persisted.
I hear. Something.
Altums renewed energy burning hot like the sun, the strike impacting the Synopticon soldiers weapon with such force that it sent him reeling. While the man managed to reorient enough to not lose his liminal scythe the impact forced him back, almost causing him to lose his footing in the marsh.
The feeling on his palm however became greater, and Altum felt the pull from the Golden portal just a little way away, closing his hand it was like feeling a string... Using the free moment he had he tightened his grip, and pulled with all of his might. Both physical and psionic a silver thread ever so faint appeared to connect Altums hand and the Golden portal, with an almighty heave and a roar the form of Themis was pulled from the Golden light, his body leaping through the air to impact the Synopticon soldier.
He had no time to respond, the force planting him firmly into the earth and water. With a single forceful stomp Themis broke the mans neck.
They had little time, whatever was going on here was beyond them, they had no way to rescue the Ixlo who had been taken, but they could at least save those who survived.
Altum and Themis quickly withdraw and called for extraction. Those Ixlo who had survived on the mountain were extracted by the Patrol as were those survivors still in the city who both the Patrol and Arkranum had to fight for against the wailing hordes. As the last of the shuttles left the world, less than 500 individuals had been rescued and saved.
Their home was lost to them, now an empty death world. Their people were gone, used as a rescource for whatever horrific use the Army of the Panopticon had for them.
It wasnt a victory, but at least they had saved lives.
All that was left on Ixlo was silence, and the whispers on the wind.