HoshizoraBoard

A young Anktha man with a straight and almost pencil thin moustache was sitting on a small wooden chair. He wore a dark blue coloured uniform with brass buttons, matching trousers, and black riding boots. He wore a red fez with no tassels and was hunched forward in his chair. The top three buttons of his jacket were undone, revealing the white collarless shirt he wore underneath. He continued patting his forehead with a rag to collect the sweat on his brow. A monocle hung from his neck, and overall he looked strained. He kept taking large mouthfuls of water from a nearby canteen. An older Anktha man in a similar uniform, but with three medals pinned to his chest was standing nearby. His uniform was fully buttoned, and otherwise he seemed aloof as he stared out into the vast bush. He had a thick long beard that was well trimmed and clean. Sweat was building on his brow, but slowly. He was leaning against the wooden post of the porch the two sat on. In the distance a small dust cloud came over the horizon, the older man stepped forward and kicked the younger man’s ankles.
“Up.” The young man quickly jumped up and threw his rag away, fixing up his uniform the two stepped down from the small covered porch into the hot sun. The dust cloud growing closer revealing that it was a red army staff car speeding along, six MC’s running alongside it, and an armoured car in the back of the formation. The MC’s rolled up to the small stone and brick building. Dismounting from the motorised cavalry vehicles were six Imperial Lancers. They formed two lines around the building. All were wearing white pith helmets but normal uniforms otherwise. The staff car pulled up to the building and the armoured car shortly after. A few Imperial Dragoons stepped down from the car, but they mostly stuck with their car. Four individuals were riding in the staff car, a driver who stayed in their seat, wearing a normal imperial uniform. In the front passenger seat there was an officer in a bicorne, aiguillette pinned on his right shoulder. He wore gold shoulder straps, black trousers with red stripes, and tall riding boots. He stepped down from the car and opened the door for the two men in the backseat.

In the backseat there was a man in a red uniform with many decorations adorning his chest. He wore white trousers with tall over-the-knee boots. It was a human male with an old and grizzled face. He wore an eyepatch over his right eye. On his head was a large black bicorne with a large white feather plume. Aside from the normal decorations was the most defining, the light blue sash over his chest and the baton in his left hand. Made of a brushed and polished wood, covered in a delicate red velvet, studded with arcalite Tiger emblems, and crowned with a bust of Emperor Jasper. The man sitting next to him was a Fatimazda wearing a similar, but less well decorated uniform. The two Anktha men saluted and stood at attention for the Fatimazda as the human and the Fatimazda stepped down from their car. The human waved his baton and touched the bust of Jasper to the brim of his bicorne.
“We are honoured to host you, Lord Field Marshal Turnbull.” The older Anktha said as he lowered his hand and stood at ease.
The human male nodded, “So, you two are the ones I’m commanding. Spit yer names and ranks.” He said gruffly.
The older man nodded, “Colonel Hossam Ghazzawi, and this is my Adjudant, Saadallah Mughrabi.” The older man’s eyes shot to the younger one.
The younger man brought his feet together and saluted again, “Sir!”
The human pointed his baton at the Fatimazda, “This is my colonel, Palmer-Sidney. And that outstanding elf is my aide-de-camp, Daniel Burke.”
“Might I suggest to the excellent Field Marshal we step inside?” Turnbull nodded and the group all entered the building. Inside the building, it was revealed this was once a small general store between two villages but had been taken over by an army staff. The main room was filled with tables full of maps, communication equipment, and officers running and attending their duties. Turnbull wasn’t interested in any of it, but kept eyeing a medal on Ghazzawi’s chest. The group all went up the main staircase, and came to a large cleared out office space converted into a general command room. It was a sparsely furnished office with a desk, chairs, large table, a chest, wardrobe, and cot were spread out.
“Your office and quarters, Lord Field Marshal.” Turnbull still didn’t look around but kept his eyes on the chest of Ghazzawi.
“Is that... the cross of service?”
“Yes, my Lord.”
Turnbull let out a laugh, “By the moon, I’ve got that one. Which body did you rip that from?” He laughed further as he took of his hat and handed it to the aide, swaggering to the desk and sitting down. Ghazzawi responded with nothing but a maintained composure.
“Rewarded by my sultan for valour in the last Ikhanda Revolution.”
Turnbull let out a long sigh as he sat down, removing a cigar holder from his jacket and put the cigar in his mouth. He waved his hand at Palmer, who approached with a lighter and held it to the Field Marshal’s cigar. The Field Marshal puffed his cigar and spoke with it firmly held in his teeth.
“Good man. I’ll need a man like you to teach these savages a lesson. I want you to give me a full report on your active and able personnel.” While Palmer and Burke stood in the back of the room, staying silent and ready to act out orders on a moment’s notice. The Anktha Colonel and Adjudant stood in front of the desk.
“We have 12,000 fighting bodies stationed at Fort Henry, 8,000 infantry, 1,200 scouts, and the rest mounted or motorised I believe.”
“Artillery?”
“Only 500 men, my Lord.” Turnbull puffed his cigar and nodded.
“What about the Chieftan himself? What was his name, Burke?”
The young Measctha stepped forward, “Sipho Ibaleyo, my Lord.”
“Eyeballeo, right right. What of his numbers?”
“We’ve not been able to accurately count his forces, sir. But assuming every village he’s visited has declared independence, between 20,000 to 65,000 adult men.”
“Any strongholds? Any forts?”
“We’ve identified Inkambu and Ukukhazi as their main strongholds, my lord. Inkambu-“ Ghazzawi stepped away, towards a large map of the planet that was on the wall. He grabbed a small remote from a nearby bureau. He pointed it at the map on the wall, the map suddenly came to life as small metallic pieces shifted across the map, being moved by magnets underneath. Small pins moved towards spots and ceased moving. “-Inkambu and Ukukhazi, my lord. 600 miles from our base here, and nearly 3 days from New Herneshire.” More metallic pieces started creeping their way along the board to pin themselves.
“Good, good. Then I want our forces to mobilise and prepare for inspection tomorrow at 6pm Imperial Standard time.”
“I’ll be sure that the men are up before sunrise for your inspection, my lord.”
The Field Marshal stood and approached the map, pointing at the map, he drew an imaginary line along a small corridor, “the army will march along this valley basin then. We’ll approach Ukukhazi from the west first. Surround the city and demand the rebels lay down their arms. Then we secure the supply depot that was lost, rest and resupply, then turn north and take Inkambu and hang Eyeballeo, give the two of you a promotion for a job well done, and we’re all home in time for the State of Lunar Grace in under 8 months.”
“A very... liberal estimate, my lord.”
“Trust me, if Chelmsby had taken my advice the War on Free Forest would have taken less than a year! All we had to do was burn down a 15 square kilometres of wood and those rebels would have come running into machine gun nests and tanks! Huzzah! It would have been glorious. My proposal was shot down in minutes, of course. But these savages have no wherewithal, no plans, nothing to beat us with. If we can’t take them down in eight months, we’ll do it in a year. But in the end, our Empire will win. And I guarantee Eyeballeo knows that. The pot bellied, f*ck. He’s too smart to not know that.” Turnbull’s one eye gazed upon the one peg that represented Inkambu. A smile crept across his face as he pulled the cigar from his mouth. “One step at a time, one foot heaved at a time. The yeoman shouted hurrah, the piper playing the merry tune of victory. Weeping, the figure came over the lea. He clutched a banner in hand, arrow in his chest, the figure clad in jade and verdant as the trees around him. He thrusted his banner into the ground, tears streaming down with the blood. He breathed his last breaths, painful as they came. The piper ceased playing, the yeoman’s cries were cut short. All eyes were on this pale figure on the lea. His feet weighed down by the clutching hands of the fallen, clinging to their last hope. With a final stir of fire, the figure thrusts his banner down. Through tears, blood, and death, he cried ‘Cepiuadh!’ Then fell silent. His body stood upright, the blood pouring down as the tears finally stopped. The arrow had done its job. There would be no more cries of freedom. But the banner, the body, they stood. Fearful of a banshee or ghost, the yeomen fled. A corpse shambled to the top of a hill and planted his flag. ‘Pagan magic, heathen magic!’ They cried. ‘Nay, nay!’ Said the general. ‘Tis the spirit of a warrior. Shame! Shame on the men who cheered for this, Shame on the men who fled from this! Stand, stand and witness a warriors death. Bow your head, bend thy knee, and cry damn ye!’ The general closed his eye, and ne’er rose up sword again. To witness a true warrior’s death is to gaze upon the Lady of the Moon herself. To see Saint Inviphalus himself. Confronted with a warrior, true of heart, true of cause, is a pain sentients cannot bear.” Turnbull let out a long sigh, “Learned that when I was innthe academy 40 years ago. Written by Oisín, the poet in 13,306 BCS. Memorised it for my graduation speech.” Ghazzawi bowed his head as Turnbull stepped towards his desk and sat down again, returning the cigar to his mouth.

Iammelon wrote:

It was certainly an interesting little scavenging operation in the eyes of the Iammelonians, seeing the grav-lift which they assumed was bringing up all the salvaged and usable materials they could find. With the transports handling the movement of the personnel. An effective operation, but of course what was quite important was seeing that the aliens did seem to be burying the dead respectfully. That certainly made this situation less problematic than it would be otherwise, easing the worries of the crew. The fact they seemed quite displeased about having to do this helped as well, so the crew was more settled now in general.

Ilox meanwhile was listening closely to Baron Mithra, both to make sure she got all the information that was being shared but also listening to see how genuine he was being, as that was important for whether or not he was telling the truth. The fact he was being quite upfront and seemingly honest was a good thing to her, and so she responded, "Well it is good you are at least not happy about having to take from the dead, but I suppose I cannot blame you too much if you do this for the sake of survival. Gathering information is sensible as well, and I can appreciate it in particular given how I am myself now in some unfamiliar space. I know this system, but I do not know nearly enough about the general region to be comfortable. Fortunately for you, we are not enemies, as we are no pirates or servants to any dark being."

"As for your House, seems then you are an alliance of necessity for survival. Rather unfortunate that you had to go through such a bad series of events, and be forced from your homes. For that, I can sympathize. As for this dark entity you describe, the Hydra of the Void, I believe I know what you mean. Only one notable encounter, being with attempted sabotage at some facilities back in our homeland. Trying to kidnap some individuals of interest, broodmothers taken in a battle at this very system in fact. They failed, on both counts. We even have one such Broodmother in this fleet, in a different ship. So we have a little experience."

She then sighed, but Ilox supposed it was a reasonable request, "That is a fair trade, I do suppose. Can't expect this to be one way after all. I'd like to hear more of this miracle, but first I shall speak more of my fleet. We hail from the nation of Iammelon, but as for our House, as you would say, that would be Omnipo. A corporation, technically, but a rather extensive and powerful one. It is now defunct. We are remnants of Omnipo, simply one fleet that has fled a civil war in Iammelon, that the side we joined lost. So we are exiles, and we came here to regroup, repair, and figure out a plan for the future. I have no real idea where our fleet will go or what we will become, but survival is the paramount goal right now. We will find out place in the world some other time. Regardless, we are multi-species, and we do still hold to the ideals of our homeland. But I suppose right now we're looking friends and safety."

Mitha certainly seemed interested to hear that they were now in unfamiliar water as it were, was their people unfamiliar with this region of space? Truthfully he was happy to just have some common ground. "I am glad that we are not enemies. Truth be told I was not liking our chances up against that fleet back there even if you are currently in dire straights." He says with a more merry tone.

"Our House was originally banded together by that alliance of necessity yes. But now we are of one purpose, and a united hope for a better future." He says as he appreciated that she sympathised with them, to be on more common ground was good. Though to suddenly hear about the enemy. To hear that the evil they swore to hunt down was loose in this galaxy too changed his merry tone. Though to hear that the seemingly invincible hydra was thwarted... It was cathartic to hear that it could fail. It would not make up for the slaughter it brought upon his people... But it would be enough. Now he knew that he couldn't just part ways with these people. He needed to learn everything. The Kell had to hear about this.

Though as he listened to what Ilox had to tell him about her 'House'. This 'Omnipo'... He didn't know what to make of it. He loosely understood what a 'corporation' was by looking into appropriated pirate intelligence and learning about the western parts of the galaxy. Only concerned with generating profits for their goods instead of doing so for the sake and prosperity of all. He couldn't say he liked or understood Iammelon at all. But if they could pull on over on the Void Hydra then he wouldn't argue. "Travellers without a home in need of a safe space to gather your bearings. Sounds familiar." He says with a more merry and bemused tone. "I will tell you about the miracle but it is something... That you would need context for. It isn't something I can explain so lightly. It is best left in the hands of our Lore Keeper... Right now you are looking for friends and safety. I would like to extend a hand for cooperation. You have information my people need to hear, about the void hydra and his connections to this galaxy, in return we can offer excess produce that we don't sell for trade and help in finding a new home. Our people have travelled these western systems for 3 years now since we arrived in this galaxy so we can look for a uninhabited worlds. It is fine if you decline, but I would like to hear more ad get the chance to learn more about your people."

Honour guard wrote:

Filia gave these new rooms some brief looks from afar, though she can't read any of the writing she's seen laying around. "Tch, must be early spaceflight then if they don't know the common traders tongue. Then again they wouldn't need it for a base like this, not unless they wanted to bring in specialists from offworld." As she muses about itas she moves to take a brief look in the cafeteria, through the stench of rotting food put her off pretty quickly as she went to go investigate the infirmary, maybe there was something in there she could use to give Harlock a boost of energy.

As she went into the Infirmary she finds a human in a suspended tank. "Another human like me?" She was pretty curious about this person suspended in liquid. Moving closer she looks to see if she can make any sense of the readouts and check if this person was alive. Though she didn't think it was possible, this place seemed dead when they all got here.

-----

Sephus take another quick look around him, still in awe of his surroundings. "I don't know if I have the words for it. There are few sites in this galaxy that have left me speechless like this." He says smiling down at her, though he already starts looking around. Wondering where the both of them could go first and start off their little adventure.

The machinery, as far as Filia could tell, indicated the man was indeed alive. A heartbeat, perhaps a little slow, beat across the screen. Seems like they had been put into stasis for some reason. Though the language differences reared their ugly head again, as Filia could not read any of the notes or conditions of the patient. Only a name, Elise Stanislavovna. The woman floating in the suspension tank was wearing a sort of protective suit, but IV units and a breathing apparatus were plugged into her nose and mouth. Though, as everything came online a red light began flashing on the heart monitor. What Filia could read was “Уровни анастезии критически важны, неотложное оживление подлежит“ and thus bubbles in the tank started emanating from the woman suspended in it. She slowly twitched, and opened her eyes. But quickly enough Filia saw her struggling, the woman couldn’t breath! She squirmed in the tank, banging on the glass.

-

Liline started walking the main streets, slowly exploring the cobblestone and crowded streets, eventually jesting to Sephus, “don’t get any ideas for ditching me for one of these... rather well built women.” She halfheartedly let out a laugh, watching a woman nearly two heads taller than each of them, and easily putting Sephus to shame in the physical strength department stroll by. The woman was wearing a tophat that sat at an angle on her head, a grey wool suit, black bow tie tied loosely and left to hang down her chest. She wore a kilt, then tall socks and a pair of black oxfords. Her arms and legs were rippling with muscle, though her face was plump in the cheeks. While this woman was by far an outlier, there were many physically capable among the ranks of the tartan and suit sporting women, and the occasional man who strolled these streets.

But a little while later, Liline came to a small rustic shop. The sign above the door read “Isabelle Livingstone Traditional Craftsmen of Biologically Integrated Clockworks. EST 6708.”
Liline seemed to get a little nervous as she approached the door of this small shop, tucked away on the alleys of the larger avenues. “Well, I may have... not been entirely truthful with you, dear. I’ve come to Cadhainn to get a new arm from the most respectable craftsman.”

Iammelon wrote:

The Psion Spirit turned around to face Mayflower, its face contorted and twisted. Its claws balled into fists, and it let loose an ear-piercing scream. Rauus threw up a defensive shield, although fortunately for them the scream itself was not an attack, just a cry of pure misery. Its voice was low, with a faint echo to it in a similar way to Zia, but different in that the voice was consistent, the same person always speak, "Interference! You get in the way! I will not stay, I will not stay! You will help me get out, to break this damn stone! Die, so that I may finally die next!" What came next was an attack, with the Psion lifting an arm and unleashing a massive blast of psionic energy at Rauus. He did his best, but he was simply an Anubite, and his foe was a Psion. The Anubite Lord's shield was shattered, and he was thrown back. He managed to land safely, but he took all the impact so Mayflower wouldn't get hurt, his armor showing some damage. The Psion Spirit was about to unleash another blast, but this time he was interrupted.
As Rauus had been flung backwards, Zia had finally awoken and gotten up. Her phantasmal form finally rushed forward, and simply caught the Psion's blast. Zia then emitted a low chuckle, and the voice that followed was the same voice of the Psion they had seen in the vision, showing that the one they had seen was different to the one they faced now, "Still unable to even kill a mutt. You really are pathetic, Masquif'Run. All the skill of a child. Out of my sight!" Soon after, Zia threw the bolt straight back, and it got larger. The Psion, whose name was now revealed as Masquif, threw up his arms to try and defend himself, but was knocked back in a similar manner as he had just done to Rauus. Zia then got rather confused, looking at her hands and speaking, "What? Who... Aaagh!" She put her hands to her head, clearly in great pain, "No! No! No! Too much to remember, so many broken thoughts! Who are these people!? What is true?!" As Zia fell to her knees holding her head, the glowing gemstone that the Psion had been interacting with was beginning to flash furiously.
Masquif'Run noticed the flashing gem, and flew over to it rapidly. Once more little magical strands appeared from his hands, starting to interface with it. The flashing started to die down as he mumbled, "No, no! Can't let it go off, I am not done!" His head turned to Mayflower, snarling, "Go away, take it away! It will overload! Send the soul beast away!"

==
The young Ialao while shocked and immobilized by the Psion's scream she immediately screamed in terror herself as the Psion unleashed his attack, covering her eyes with her hands. As she uncovered her face and saw that Raaus had been hit in order to save her, she fell right on him trying to save him, ignoring the Psion's pleads and threats. However as the multitude of events was beggining to confuse her deer mind, she begun getting annoyed and by the time of the showdown between Zia's Psion and Masquif'Run she was utterly enraged, her fur having turned a slight shade of red. Nevertheless she turned to Zia as soon she found her true self, patting her to avoid another relapse "You are real, all souls are real under Delviatou. Calm down, now..." however once Masquif adressed her with one step she got up and stood facing the worried Psion and his device with pure defiance "LISTEN HERE ESKALI SCUM! I owe nothing to you but a deldamn kick in your etherial head ...Fυck you! I will do nothing until you explain what is happening and shod off my land" her determination alone seemed as if it could channel a great amount of psionic power if she only was not merely an Ialao.
-

Iammelon wrote:

The plushie was quite the unfortunate casualty of war, and Cendri gave it a small salute in recognition of the great loss. Meanwhile however, Nia did manage to get the attention of the Military Police Driver, who nodded his head in agreement to Nia's assessment, "This one agrees, bad vehicle, and is not Trike. Human design, very sloppy. Effort is in seats, misplaced effort. Armor is lacking, requires additional plating for defense. Glass is fragile, small arms fire can shatter, very dangerous! Lacks effective weapons, very defenseless. This one would prefer if bad human design was replaced, better to have efficient Trikorn Armored Carrier. Very tough and durable. No weird seats, much more room for equipment, maintains good speed, effective gun hardpoints. Hope replacement comes soon." Cendri nodded in agreement. Truly it was a travesty that Watrike advice for civilian policing vehicles was not taken. Regardless, fortunately for Nia it was indeed a short journey, and they would soon arrive at the local police station. As could be expected for Watrike, it was practically a small fortress, serving as both a police station and the armory for the neighborhood. Somebody had to hold all the guns in case the Grand Drake called upon them, after all.

As the efforts for tracking down Nia's mother went, they zeroed in on this distant medical establishment. And so, it was time for a more direct investigation to confirm their discoveries. So, the doctor would very suddenly have a new batch of visitors in the hospital, a group of six Watrike. Four of them wore the outfits of the Trikorn National Guard, fully equipped as well, with the Watrike at the lead was the rare Purple Watrike, an uncommon color for their race. She wore a more usual outfit, a simple suit, with some markings showing her to be part of Trikorn's Department of Inside Affairs, and her identifying badge showing her name to be "Asmalia". Most notable besides her rare scale color was that she was carrying a fairly large briefcase. Next to her was another suited Watrike, a male red Watrike whose badge read "Fenfuos". He wore some shaded glasses. Asmaila quickly walked up to the Doctor and addressed her, "This one is on high importance mission, and requires an interview with the doctor and nurse. Nurse, go with Yunfor for talk." She gestured to one of the National Guard Troopers, who was standing by the door. She then turned to the doctor, "This one shall talk to the Doctor. Is very important. Does Doctor have private office?"

==
Nia was devastated by the loss of the plushie but she would have to be strong like a true Watrike, and who knows? Perhaps at a later time she could try and revive it with a lot of sanitizer and soap. Nevertheless, she tried forgetting this travesty by focusing on the car, agreeing completely with the smart driving one's observations; the vessel was indeed a despicable waste of materials, totally inadequate for important tasks! She nodded at the driver and along with the rest watrike in the car "humans are a very impractical species". As they reached their destination Nia hopped carefully out of the deviant car and walked happily close to Cendri gazing at the big fortress. For some reason she appeared to like the building more than the residential buildings she had already seen "Very very nice grey plain and tall walls! Surely modern architecture! Is important place?"

The doctor's tail flickered in agony even though her face appeared to remain calm, she wasn't after all completely oblivious as to who these Watrike were and why they were there. She quickly raised her bag of tribites up "Let this one finish nutritious meal first.." she looked at the badges for a second to make sure to get the names right "...Asmalia and Fenfuos" and with one go she gulped the remaining tribites as they fell down her mouth. She stood up looking at both seriously, then suddenly sighing and shrugging "Well, this one can guess why they are here. No time should be wasted, is not proper. This one will follow without resistance, but first... ..office is right over there" she pointed to a door on the right and slowly walked in. The office seemed fairly normal, with lots of books on Watrike biology ..perhaps more than even a doctor would need. One particularly interesting was a big red one called "A treatise on the Winged One" and a big green one called "The Manequin Species" with a watrike head calmly smiling as a galaxy popped out of its head. Both didn't seem like anything of the official books approved on Trikorn. She sat on her chair and waved her hand for the two agents to do so as well "This one has lot to tell, is time... ..perhaps is good too. Name is Ani Cerni"
-

Iammelon wrote:

Zirona gave Mica quite the frown there, also semi-playing into her part of an angry prisoner, and also annoyed at the prospect of getting poke with the gun yet again. Still, Selequ was at the lead, and she went up in front, confidently approaching the gatehouse guards. She got rather up close too, both to make sure they noticed her officer's markings on her uniform, and so they could focus their gaze on more unsavory parts. With a suddenly rather convincing Avalantine accent, Selequ started to speak, "Look what I went and found, lads. A little lizard strayed a bit too far from the Dragon's Den, and got scooped right up. I'm gonna need to lock this one up, they aren't tame yet." She went and flicked Zirona's snout, prompting a snark from the Watrike. Selequ chuckled and turned back to the guards, "Oh, and do me a favor and watch out for any of her buddies. Catch one, and I'll make sure you get a special reward straight from me. Sound good?" Leaning forward a bit, she playfully licked her lips while positioning her face so that either the Human or Taurus could believe that it was aimed at them. Combining this officer's conduct with Mica's own small display, both the guards seemed to get a bit heated, too much to speak in fact. They didn't want to speak in their current condition to an officer. The Human simply nodded his head, gave a small salute, and opened the gate to the camp. Selequ threw him a wink as she went inside, gesturing for Zirona and Mica to follow her.
The interior of the camp mostly resembled an army field base, with all their tents pitched, some makeshift buildings, and most of the activities being outside. The exception of course was the large metal gate to the cave base, where the arsenal almost certainly was. Selequ chuckled once they were out of earshot, "Simple as that. Thanks for the assist there, Mica, and good snarling boss. Now, our next move?" Zirona glanced about and nodded, "Yes, we're inside, but only three of us. We need to get Wilioa and Creerisk inside next. Let's find a section of the fence that we can carve a hole into, and then get them in. Once everyone's inside, we move onto the next phase, that being breaching the cave. I am certain both their arsenal and command center are in there. Regardless, first let's get the rest of the team inside. Mica, you will handle that. I still need to play the part of the prisoner, and Selequ has to be the escort. We'll try and get that large cave door open. I am sure you can handle cutting a fence in the meantime. We shall rendezvous at the cave entrance. Oh, and if the base is in a panic, just assume our cover is blown and start killing traitors."

==
"Hah, it wouldn't be the first time.."Mica dismissed with a sarcastic snicker Zirona's implications and quickly searched around for a good and discreet part of the fence she could cut without rising any suspicions. After a few quick and rather alerting glances she spotted the perfect spot for the deed ..it was not far from the guards and could be seen by all, perfect to make even the most inquisitive of rebs to not question her excuses she had prepared ever since they were back in the base. She casually strolled towards it with her gadgets in plain sight while humming loudly "The Bonnie Grey Saltire"'s tune, once she reached it she made herself comfortable and begun cutting the fence with a bored look in her face, still humming the annoying rebel tune.

-

Iammelon wrote:

Zenos was rather surprised at the enraged response from the lord, understanding a bit better now how much these Ashlanders seemed to dislike the rest of their kind. Set off by such an offense certainly showed there was a little more to it than just Imperial zeal, although he supposed that was still a big part of it based on his own Taurus guards, the closest of whom nodded in complete approval of Lord Paxyan's justified response to such disrespect. The Zantine Prince however was a softer individual, and so he gave a simple wave for Lord Paxyan to stand down, "Let's not get too overzealous here, Lord Paxyan! I am sure Syndana here would need some adapting to my taking of the Myresenmyr Title just as much as I do, it is rather recent after all. So, let's give everyone their chance to learn. We are all mortals here after all." He then picked up the telecom on the ground, taking a look at it and confirming that it was broken. He held it out for Syndana to take, "Afraid that it does seem to be broken, but if I remember right your planet's specialty is mechanical things, so I am sure you can fix it without much issue. As for some news, as you seem to have figured out the hard way I have taken on the Myresenmyr title. Emperor of Shyr before I got to be Emperor of Zantium. I'm trying to generally meet and learn more about the various bits of this Empire. Speaking of which..." He turned to make sure both Syndana and the two Malqamraxes knew they were being addressed at the time time, "That means learning about each of the realms that this Empire is built of. So, if you can, could you tell me a bit more about the Ashlands and Trottanda? Both seem to be lands I should get myself familiar with." While on the outside Zenos appeared calm and confident, on the inside he was very worried. He was leveraging all of his diplomatic training that his father had given him, about balancing the attention of the lords. He hoped that he could diffuse the more tense stand off by allowing both of them to list off the strengths of their realms, as he wasn't much sure he could handle the diplomatic consequences of somebody being harmed right now.
The Taurus meanwhile were undergoing their own standoffs. The Green Couple now simply got a roll of the eyes from the Guard they were grunting at, and he simply looked past them. Drunk Nobles acting like animals weren't worth focusing on. Meanwhile, the poor female guard was not quite pleased with her unwanted suitor, and she simply told him that she was not speaking such a vacation or escape, and was perfectly content in the Rangian Barracks. That is where she would be. As for Myrafiora, the Taurus provided a way of locating Zenos even in the crowds. They never lost sight of their prince, and many of them had their eyes stuck like a hawk to the Human. Since they were still calm themselves, it could be assumed that Zenos was not in danger at the present time.

==
Syndana picked the broken telecom from Zenos' hands looking at it with despair "Brand new, it was only my mother's ..but you're right your majesty, we can rebuilt everything unlike the rest benighted lummoxes of my species" the old lord Paxyan jumped up full of rage, almost spitting at Zenos' wonderful dragon suit as he shouted "WHAT DID YA SAY? See your glorious majesty, they use hexes and heretical words! Cogwitches!" his daughter once more grabbed her dad and pulled him back, telling her brother to "take dad out for a walk" Syndana returned smiling awkwardly "Forgive my father, even if he is right ..he lacks tact due to his age" Syndana still trying to fix the telecom device rolled her eyes. Both recollected the Emperor's wish and raised their fingers ready to inform the young master in one voice "Well, first there's Trotruadyana..." equally annoyed both looked at each other with almost intense hatred ..then out of nowhere they bursted in laughter, seems like Zenos had gotten himself married into a people as crazy as humans. Syndana made a discreet gesture for the Fergrangal lady to explain first while she kept pressing the device in hopes of opening it again and sparing herself from boring politics.
The young and muscular Fergrangal quickly recollected her posture and begun explaining "Well, we Fergrangals hail from the old homeworld nation of Othos, but have been colonials since as far as we can remember ..before even the Dark Ages, much like the death-defying Ashlanders which we lead! The Ashlands may be the youngest Ghashyr worlds but we sure aren't the least interesting ...we've survived in an iron land with iron will! Our main planet is Ruadya in the ends of the Cerulane, close to the mighty Stormlands, not something the etherless could understand what it means ..but anyway, we don't hold back out tongue or daggers and we're loyal to justice, something most lords do not value, but I see that you do" Syndana slightly amused with her telecom showing signs of life raised her eyebrows "She forgot to mention they like to hoard Arcalite like Valxes ..seems I fixed the microreactor!" the Ruadyan humphed in disapproval "We do have a lot of Arcalite, but our main product is Titanium ...titanium mines' smog covers our beautiful arrid ashlands, proof of our vast production and aid to the empire; you should really visit and see for yourself the magnificent and blinding salt desert of Eghys Ashyr, or the purple skeleton trees of Jaegala ...our sights are unmatched in all of the Talmyrox!" Syndana clicked her now functioning telecom device and turned it to show a stellar map pointing to a planet with her finger "Now it's my turn! This is Trottanda, or Rastaxys as we call it, big red and filled with giant scenic factoria. We love it since it's the only place that you find some reason, apparently others hate it ...anyway, we are merely the ones who take the titanium and with 'magic' like the 'spooky' titanium mills and the 'bewitched' assempling plants turn it with their heretical necromantic power into spare parts for all kinds of engines to keep the Talmyrox going." the Fergrangal smirked and playfully shoved Syndana to the side "We're not that backwards you bird-worshipper ..stop acting like a Taxata"
Thankfully for the big Taurus guard, the green couple soon got bored and went in a shady corner to make out celebrating their "victory", sparing him of their annoying presence. Sadly on the other side, the female Taurus guard was still being harassed by the persistent drunken suitor who now offered to join and fight forever with the Rangians in exhange for "milking the cow".

-

Iammelon wrote:

The lead Anubite lecturer paused his lecture on the history of Dragon Mountainside Fortresses for a moment to give an amused glance towards Sofya. He stepped forward and smiled, giving a nod, "Of course it has been considered! All children need to learn about the lessons that history can teach us. It is after all something even toddlers can grasp with a good degree of respect! If it would make you more comfortable, Princess Sofya, we may move this lecture into a nursery if that would feel more suitable to your Imperial Majesty's tastes. I am sure you and your tone would feel right at home there. Now, unless there are questions, let us continue. The first Golden Dragon to fully construct what can be considered the modern variation of a Draconic Mountain Fortress was the Mountain Dragon Fenrix Resmor, a pioneer in the field..." The Anubite fell back into his lecture now, unwilling to give the Zantid any escape from her history lessons.

The two Heordals of course lacked the knowledge of the cultural significance of this place, but they did understand that it seemed very important to Myrsa based on her highly emotional response to just the outside. Ezron stepped forward and attempted to read the symbols himself, wondering if it was similar to Heordal Draconic writing. The Red Dragon then smiled down at Myrsa, giving a little pat on the back, "And you are finally returning to that home, with the ability to leave this home as who you truly are. This place will be forever important to you, but it is time for the Dragons to finally emerge from their nest, and take flight!"
Tarral meanwhile happily accepted the honor, "I shall herald in this return of the lost kin! After all, it is the role of the Menfiraiax to handle some of our greatest traditional rituals... I shall inherit that legacy, and in turn enrich that legacy with the achievement of restoration! Hoohah!" The Dragoness then moved back, giving herself a good run up. She then sprinted forward, taking flight to pounce from the skies at the rock-button, hitting it in a majestic and very dramatic fashion, before leaping back to see what happened.

==
Sofya appeared mildly annoyed by the rude tutor's comeback but she would not satisfy his ego by showing anger in any manner "No thanks, we're fine here for now". She pretended to listen to the Anubite rant for a while until she suddenly raised her finger vigorously as if wanting to add an important detail to his narration "Please, I know my history, I don't require every detail to understand; I bet the Golden Dragons made it illegal for Anubite historians to go to Heord and pester them with random castle facts ..smart lizards! I'll copy their legislation when I get the foreign ministry next month. Hell, I'll make my own story when I rule instead of spending my entire life gasping at what other people did like you do, and then you will have to narrate my story yourself to some poor soul for an eternity. Let's ask Appa whose idea is better! APPA come please; This Anubite is boring beyond death, literally." she proudly beared a big smug smile, squinting her eyes and expecting the annoying coy to get enraged.

Ezron would be unable to read much of it, but he could recognize a few similar words like "Herod" and the symbol for Grand Drake; nevertheless most of the writing was too different from Heordal clawmarks to be understood. In the meanwhile Tarral's pompous pounce did have an effect as the boulder begun cracking until it split in two great pieces that fell in the warm sand with a thundering noise, revealing what was a giant dragon cave; Myrsa overwhelmed by emotion stepped inside the cave in silence...
It was quite stylish for any dragon really, with lots of worn out velvet banners and giant plaques of black fire-tarnished marble with delicate clawmark writing on them and baring each many a pompous dragon's bust clawed above the writing. In the end of the tunnel an enormous cave could be seen beneath and above adornished with over a hundred dragon skeletons hanging from the ceiling, positioned in a manner that they seemed as if they were either flying or nesting over the rocks ...all of them bearing degenerate jewelry on them ..but beneath ..there it was; Gold! Gold as far as the eye could see and of all variations ...myriads of coins, statues, pinchers and artifacts all shining like a sea of light. Myrsa could not help but gaze herself at the beauty of the clan's hoard, turning quite proudly towards her two fellow drakes "Have you ever seen a better cave than my clan's? This is what we did all we did ...home, our cave and clan. Gaze upon my ancestors flying in eternity ...Someday I will return here and join the flock"
However as Myrsa took pride on her clan, a shadow could be seen passing above the mounts of gold in the glimpse of an eye and suddenly the ground trembled before her; a white-scaled wild dragoness, slightly shorter and more delicate than the two Heordals appeared with her eyes full of fury; The dragoness snorted pure fire and stomped her feet, suddenly shouting "DEATH TO THE TRESSPASSERS! ANYONE WHO TOUCHES MY GOLD I WILL CRUSH THEIR TINY BONES AND FRY THEIR SOFT SKIN! Who dares... uh.. I... what-the-scale?" she started looking confused at Myrsa and then at the fact that two entire dragons were standing before her, she leaned close to Myrsa being unsure what had just occured "Sister ...what is this joke?" Myrsa patted her snoot to calm her and turned to Tarral and Ezron "I succeeded! They're here to help ..we'll get far away to Heord and be alive!" the dragoness seemed still unsure about the idea merely muttering "but the gold.." before Myrsa continued "This is Fair Tarral, my future mate if she stops being in denial ..and this is Ezron, he's a noble dragon. Tarral, Ezron ..this is Sar'ksassa Katak'sar, she goes by Sarxaxa Ym.." Sarxaxa abruptly moved the small ghashyr sister to the side with her paw "I can introduce myself little sister. Sarxaxa Ymbrel, owner of Ymbrel Group and the Bank of the Sun, glad to see dragons other than my family for a chance. Now... truly this is a peculiar situation."
With that out of the way, Myrsa went running right inside the cave slightly annoyed, leaving her sister to handle the newcomers.

Iammelon wrote:

Ilox was quite relaxed now, it was good to hear an admittance that Mitha didn't have the capacity to take on her fleet. Just to be sure however, she still had to keep up her own face of partial strength, "The fleet is indeed rather wounded right now, but we are still a war fleet, an experienced one too. Still, it is indeed good that we need not fight, we've fought too long as it is. I'll be happy to finally get in some sleep. Good to hear however that on your side you've got some hope for the future. Don't get too much of that right now, still figuring out what we want. But I've survived this long, so I'm gonna guess I ain't out of the game yet."

It did indeed seem they were in a similar situation, so Ilox was already feeling far less threatened. They likely couldn't waste their strength on attacking fleets like hers. But that bit about the miracle was interesting to apparently hear about, and cooperation was certainly something she needed right now. Not like she had many friends, so she couldn't turn it down. Besides, not like he was asking for things she couldn't give, at least to an extent, "Well that's a pretty good deal for me, friends and assistance would be greatly valued given my current lack of either. Plus it would be nice to hear about your miracle at some point, but I guess that'll happen with your Lore Keeper fellow. In the meanwhile, I can tell you all I know about the Hydra, although I'll tell you ahead of time that I don't know all too much, just the things we have in the data banks and some hearsay. As for learning more about my people, fine by me as well. After all, if one intends to give assistance, it's only reasonable both parties know a fair bit about each other."

Through all of this Lynek has been listening to everything that has been going on. She didn’t think that this little gamble of the Baron’s would work… But these folks seem the more amicable sort. They certainly were not in the state to argue too with how banged up their fleet is… But Mithra made the right call in calming them down. She gathered that this was why he was a baron and she was still just an Operative.

Mithra seemed very pleased to hear that she was taking up his offer. He didn’t seem put off with the knowledge that she didn’t know much about the Hydra. Trustfully, Ilox likely knew far more than they did about the enemy they swore to hunt down. “Anything you can share about our enemy would be greatly appreciated, even rumours and hearsay is valuable.” He says as he starts to walk back into the grav-lift. There was a moment of static before he started to speak again “I’ glad you took me up on my offer. I might be able to finally learn the common tongue now that I have a good enough reason to stick at it. Plus I’m always interested in learning another culture, something we seldom get to do as nomads.”

Mithra walked back to the bridge while the Crews back on the asteroid's surface started to finish off the operation and delivering final rites to the dead. “Once we’ve tended to the dead and packed up camp I’d be happy to escort you and your fleet back to ours so you can hear of the miracle from the Lore Keeper himself. ”

House of vengeance wrote:

So the rest of them would follow later once she found out if Mithra was upfront with his offer and his House was okay to follow around, that is what Mithra took away from what she said. It was perfectly sensible. He wouldn't want to put his people amidst too many unknowns with travelling beside a fleet of Nomad's they don't know. "Understandable, I wouldn't want to land my people amongst some kindly strangers I just met until I got the bigger picture either." He muses before he reaches the bridge "Well I can certainly explain what I can about Houses. You see our race was once made up of dozens of different Houses before the Whirlwind drove us from our original system... Our Houses all had different jobs and purposes. For example there was House of Rains, they were a smaller house but represented a form of religious leadership back before the Whirlwind. They originally came up with a prophecy that announced that our penultimate leader would be chosen by our god 'The Great Machine', blessed with the light. He would come forward and heal and unite all Houses before being crowned the Kell of Kells."

The grav-lift started to buzz with activity as the crews below had finally cleared up the ramshackle defenses they had set up. Including the large gun they placed down there to keep other ships from getting too close. The last of the transports started to board the Ketch too now as the blue beam that touched down on the asteroid's surface retracted, crackling into nothing as it was finally turned off.

From everything Mithra explained just then he said that there was a prophecy that one of his people would become this mighty warrior leader of legend... From the sounds of it this may have something to do with the miracle he was talking about earlier. "It won't take us terrible long to meet up with the rest of our House. An hours trip at most at warp at the earliest. To meet the lore keeper we'll need to go to the Luminesia, a Live Ship we picked up recently. Oh right, a 'Live Ship' is a converted passenger liner we scavenge or buy and use as a place for our civilian population to live and grow agricultural goods and such. Even ether production, though we haven't encountered anything like the natural ether that's in this galaxy... It tastes odd."

Ilox gave a nod, as Mithra had figured out what the case was, "Correct, just a common sense precaution. Glad that you understand. Though it also true that my fleet does seriously need some repairs, so that just lends even more reasoning to be cautious." She then listened to him explain the clans, and Ilox could understand what it was. They had a decentralized system where each House specialized themselves, a way to encourage cooperation since each house would need the others as well as prevent one house from monopolizing power. A handy way to make sure nobody overthrew the system until this prophecy of theirs came true. As for the validity of this Kell of Kells, she would have to figure out for herself later when she knew more, "Interesting little system you had then, a bunch of specialists all working together to run a proper civilization. Although that to me also makes me realize you probably had some rather difficult times after this 'Whirlwind' you mentioned, having to pick up after losing so many specialists."

The mighty warrior of legend certainly needed more examination, see how accurate it was. She could already guess that the miracle was the fulfillment of the prophecy mentioned prior, probably in some unlikely circumstance. Lots to figure out, "Guess it is sensible that you wouldn't stray too far from your main fleet as a nomad. After all, you have to keep moving. And that is an interesting way to use a passenger liner, but then again I suppose that is also a requirement of nomad life. You need to grow the food somewhere after all. Although tasting the Ether... I'll just leave that one be. I do have a question however, how big is this House of yours? Sounds to me you're a bunch of remnants, like my own fleet, but of course I don't have an proper estimate as to your houses. Are you big families? Or are you more like mini-nations?"

Iammelon wrote:

Ilox gave a nod, as Mithra had figured out what the case was, "Correct, just a common sense precaution. Glad that you understand. Though it also true that my fleet does seriously need some repairs, so that just lends even more reasoning to be cautious." She then listened to him explain the clans, and Ilox could understand what it was. They had a decentralized system where each House specialized themselves, a way to encourage cooperation since each house would need the others as well as prevent one house from monopolizing power. A handy way to make sure nobody overthrew the system until this prophecy of theirs came true. As for the validity of this Kell of Kells, she would have to figure out for herself later when she knew more, "Interesting little system you had then, a bunch of specialists all working together to run a proper civilization. Although that to me also makes me realize you probably had some rather difficult times after this 'Whirlwind' you mentioned, having to pick up after losing so many specialists."

The mighty warrior of legend certainly needed more examination, see how accurate it was. She could already guess that the miracle was the fulfillment of the prophecy mentioned prior, probably in some unlikely circumstance. Lots to figure out, "Guess it is sensible that you wouldn't stray too far from your main fleet as a nomad. After all, you have to keep moving. And that is an interesting way to use a passenger liner, but then again I suppose that is also a requirement of nomad life. You need to grow the food somewhere after all. Although tasting the Ether... I'll just leave that one be. I do have a question however, how big is this House of yours? Sounds to me you're a bunch of remnants, like my own fleet, but of course I don't have an proper estimate as to your houses. Are you big families? Or are you more like mini-nations?"

"Yes, the Whirlwind made it hard for us over the centuries to try and gather a grasp of what we could do to survive... We do not know what happened to the other houses. It has been far too long... But we fear that wherever they are, they have taken to petty piracy or whatever they could do to survive... The Whirlwind made us desperate scavengers and cut throats barephed of honour or nobility that we possessed during our Golden age. I just hope that what we've been doing in recent years is setting us back on the path to a more noble future." Mithra says as he settles down on his captains chair on the bridge. Lynek standing by his side as the call transfers from his Micro-servitor to the ships main comms so it was an much better picture. Ilox could make out the bridge at large and all of the working Eliksni around the Baron as they prepared to start their departure for the rest of the fleet as it started to pull away from the asteroid.

As Ilox asks the question of how big heir house is, Lynek does look to Mithra as he ponders the question over. "Well you aren't wrong. We are a bunch of remnants all banded together... How would you put it Lynek? This sort of thing is more what your section is about." He says looking to the female standing to the left of his set. She was much smaller than the 7ft tall Baron, being only 5ft tall herself. For a moment she looked mortified under her rebreather to have to answer such a question... But being stubborn about it would get her nowhere. "... We do have big families within the House of Vengeance. One of the more prominent is the Drenan Bloodline from the previous house of Broken Dreams, they have had the most capable leaders in recent history with our leader coming from that bloodline. I would say our kind number... Something over 800 thousand strong with the recent survey that was taken to monitor population growth. All the ships have their own sort of governing bodies with Captains and Barons making up the local council with orders coming down from the Kell of Kells and his Section Council who oversee all major happenings and workings of our people... The section I work for is the Scout section, which is controlled by the Master of Secrets. Our job is to handle the flow of information, finding assets of interest and identifying entities of interest. Not unlike yourselves..." Lynek spoke in a very monotone and methodical way, listing off only what she thought was relevant without exposing exact facts or anything that would endanger the fleet.

Mithra watched Lynek as she explained what she could, he could understand why she wasn't being as transparent as he was up until this point but he still would have preferred some leniency. With that out of the way he looked back towards the holographic projection of Ilox. "Members of the Scout section once came from the old House of Shadow's. 'Honourable thieves' they called themselves. Never took a life but would still be sneak thieves, their moral code I can agree with but their methods... Still. Their intelligence collecting skills and asset acquisition are second to none. Usually." He says as he references the fact that this whole meeting was completely by chance and not something they staged. From the sound of it Mithra didn't much like how the old House of Shadow's conducted themselves, a man of honour having to serve beside thieves... Still he just seems to pick up his cheerful tone again "But I hope that helps clear up your question. We're about ready to start our jump if you are."

Honour guard wrote:

Having this machine scream at her in another language while alarms go off were not helpful in the slightest. But she did get the idea that she wasn’t going to stay alive much longer unless she does something. So she placed her hand against the glass and ran her Psionic energy through it, with that she instantly shattered the glass and pulled it all away so it wouldn’t end up cutting this mystery woman.

She catches her and helps pull that medical crap off of her face so she could breath herself. Though the language barrier was going to be a huge pain in the ass if she didn’t know how to speak basic… No harm in asking. “You okay?”

-----

As Liline jokes to Sephus not to ditch her for one of the Creach women, he entertains the idea of teasing her back. But he doesn’t, even if he had to admit a woman that can kick his ass played into his tastes nicely. It was what initially got him infatuated in Liline before he learned more about her and she grew on him. Even without the suit she had she’s been quite the badass. “I like you better than them so not likely. If I could use my powers I’d win, with you. Eeeh you would win against me.” He says looking away as he scratches his cheek sheepishly.

Once they arrived and Liline spilled about not entirely being truthful with him, he didn’t seem that mad. In fact he was rather curious. Especially since he heard the word ‘Clockwork’ in there. Seph just smiles down at her and takes her hand in both of his as he holds it all tender like, rubbing one of his thumbs across the back of her hand, smiling softly as he tries to get her to ease up “Hey it's okay, I’m not mad or anything. It was already up in the air that you were going to get a new arm eventually. Though it was me mainly saying I’d get you one, even so. I don’t mind. This is for you, if you want an arm from here then I’ll back you up hun. 100%. Or I’ll help us get away fast enough if we can’t afford it” That last part he says jokingly as he smiles down at her.

The woman, after a few moments of catching her breath responded by backing away from Filia quite quickly. “W-who are you?!” That voice, something about it was familiar. Like the one from those speakers in the field. The woman, her voice had a striking resemblance to it. “What, torturing me wasn’t enough, now you people are trying to kill me?” She spat water out of her mouth and stood up. “I already told you everything I know...”

-

She smiles, nodding her head and hugging Sephus. She entered the shop, and found an elderly Creach woman. She had mostly grey and white fur around her nose. The black fur strips she had mostly grey if not all grey along her face. She wore goggles with many lenses. She held a soldering iron in one hand. Around her were pieces of wood, some cut, some uncut, some polished, some being stained. Hanging around her were wires, metal fixings, all the trappings of a clockmaker really. She wore a thick leather apron over a blue shirt and brown pants. Though she seemed to perk up hearing the bell on the door ring. She finished her work, set the iron down, and stood up. Her back cracked as she stood, but she approached a counter. Brushing off her apron, “Is that the great Liline Kumar darkening my doorstep?” She sounded happy, a big smile on the woman’s face. “Oh, time for a new arm then?”
Liline smiled, “Yes, yes, you old Codger. How have you been?” The two shook hands.
“Oh, aching. Getting older every day. And I haven’t yet gotten my OAF of an apprentice to actually pay attention.” A previously unremarkable pile of wood scraps and spare metal shifted and a measctha who was hidden under the pile of bits shifted. He jumped up.
“S-sorry, ma’am. I’ll uh, get back to the woodworking...” He jumped up and grabbed a large piece of scrap wood and a knife beginning to carve it.
The creach woman let out a groan,“I swear that boy’ll learn one day,” she waved her hand, “anyhow. Come back in a day, I’ll have your new arm ready.”
She smiled and Liline put a large leather folder on the counter, “just take the money this time, you-“
The badger quickly grabbed the folder, “Aye, I’ll happily take your money. Now that the guvenmet isn’t paying.” Liline seemed a little shocked, “but you...”
“I had to take it before you could take it back.” She smiled and pocketed the money within the folder. Liline smiled and turned back to Sephus and left the small shop.

House of vengeance wrote:

After the two hours of travel with the hyperdrives. The pair of vessels arrived at the current rest stop, the respite of the House of Vengeance's nomadic fleet. From a quick glance around there were hundreds of ships, all of varying class and origin... There were more Ketch's like the one Ilox's ship followed here. But there were some that she would actually recognise. There were several old and decommissioned ships from Iammelon here acting as security to the massive passenger liners they used as 'Live Ships', though they were obviously retrofitted with weapons and armour that did not fit the design too much. Lots of patchwork done to get them combat ready... Ilox and her crew could easily make out lots of combat vessels here that had been found, bought, scrounge up repurposed from corners of western space to fit any varying roles in the House's lacking fleet structure. Aside from the rather pervailent Ketch, that seemed to make up a large bulk of their fleet, there were not many ships that they did not retrofit or make themselves with what they had available... There was even, hilariously enough, a Apex Carrier ship that now flied the house colours as it came towards them with a small screening fleet to greet them.

The carrier was being led by a Ketch and seven cruiser class ships that all seemed to be of the same unrecognisable make... Perhaps a vessel that the house managed to make themselves? [https://imgur.com/csyCHrO]. As they got closer an incoming call was coming from the lead Ketch while Mithra butted in.

"Baron Mithra! You have returned, and with strangers accompanying you. This is good, yes?" The voice that was coming through was female by the sounds of it, they had a much deeper and more authoritative voice than Lynek's dainty and soft one. Mithra responded with a booming heartiness in his voice, clearly this was someone he was acquainted with personally. "Ahhaha! Baroness Tabbina. It is good to see you, I see the Valkyrie has you on screening detail. How did you annoy her this time I wonder. And yes! This is Commander Ilox of their former House OMNI. Though House isn't the right word for it, much less now that it is in an unfortunate state."

"Ho? So this softskin is much like us then? No home to return to? Wading out here in the ethers to find new roots to set down?" This baroness's mannerisms of speech were more cryptic than Mithra's, clearly. There must be different dialects in the fleet... Or maybe it is simply a byproduct of Mithra's fascination with other cultures that his way of speaking is far more profound and well spoken. "Yes I am afraid so, their people went through a sort of infighting and they lost. Now they are much like us, drifting with no home to return to. I couldn't just walk away without offering aid."

"Hah, Mithra has grown so fleshy during his time away. Not a bad thing though, compassion is something we do not show often enough in present times..." With that the Baroness turns her attention to the crew of the commander of the strange battlebarge as she now comes on screen. She's huge! The size difference between Mithra and Lynek was odd but this was strange. This baroness was easily 10ft tall as she lounged comfortable in his chair, clearly defined muscular features shown in the skin fight fabric that seperated the parts of her body armour. "Does Mithra speak truth softskin? It will not affect whether you are let in, Mithra's word is enough. But Tabbina is curious."

Ilox looked over the gathering of ships, noting the composition. The number of scavenging ships didn't surprise her, those were likely essential to the fleet, and of course she had heard about the Live Ships ahead of time, which she understood the purpose of. The other vessels however were fascinating to note, as the presence of older Iammelonian vessels was notable. She even noted one as an old and no longer in stock Omnipo vessel from the company's earlier days of starship manufacturing. That was certainly notable, as that meant these Houses had been interacting with Hoshizorans for either a long while, or at least had come across enough to purchase these old ships. Or seize them from pirates. In any case, the hodgepodge of ship types was fascinating to see, but it did make sense. They were nomads so they had to work with whatever they could get, be they proper vessels or old and outdated things. Still, she couldn't help but smile at noticing the converted Apex Carrier, that was enjoyable to see. Seems the pirates had been the ones hijacked this time, a lovely change of pace.

As for the new voice, this Baroness Tabbina was certainly interesting to see, although her mannerisms already brought up some memories. Her size was Taurus in nature, which confirmed again that humanity was not very tall or muscular in comparison to other species the universe had to offer. What a way to feel small, in a literal sense. Her words however instantly reminded her of another species, specifically Dragons. This wasn't the first time she was called a softskin, but in this case at least it wasn't from a giant, firebreathing, magical lizard. All the same, when she came up on the screen, Ilox gave a simple nod, "Yes, he is quite right, and your assumptions are correct. I am Commander Ilox, the commanding officer of OMNI Battle Fleet Hokaris. Well, former OMNI. I suppose we're just the Hokaris Fleet now. Anyways, he's right. We lost a Civil War back in our homeland of Iammelon, and now we are exiles, seeking a new life among the stars. I came with your Baron Mithra to learn more about your people, since we seem to be in similar situations, which means it would be beneficial if we established a positive relationship to help both of our peoples along. From what I gather, your role is security, is it? Quite similar to my own role prior to the Civil War. Didn't exactly end up leading an entire fleet by choice, but such was the desperation of late war."

Necunda wrote:

Forthammer upon the ether seas they see, a silver-jet-black ship etched with symbols they haven’t seen in the hue of blood. Its shape construed to that similar to a knife with multiple ends. Its cannons slowly traversing to its broadside to aim directly at the Woodrow. Forthammer would fire a barrage at Woodrow deliberately trying not to damage Dernby. Even then if Dernby would attempt to engage evasive maneuvers another ship would arrive from their side, silently waiting for this moment in order to strike by surprise, and strike by surprise Sheepskin did. Unbeknownst to Dernby and Woodrow that a second ship was hiding beyond their horizons, suddenly attacked them out of nowhere.

Sheepskin was treading at moderate speed towards the Dernby’s aft in order to disable their radio communications system as well as shooting its front-facing autocannons at Woodrow to disable their own radio communications system as well in order to stop them from doing any call for help in this expanse of space they are in. Their main goal is to acquire the Kyridium shipment within Dernby’s cargo/storage area, of course, if all goes to shıte they have no choice but to destroy every ship, but even then it’s a win-win situation for both the JRA and those Owlheads that approached the Jarl from earlier.

The sudden attack was... unexpected to say the least. The Woodrow sustained damage along its front decks as the barrage collided. The ship had not raised its shields as of yet, and wasn’t prepared for a fight. As the deck sustained the initial barrage, alarms blared out and both ships began to divert course, Woodrow aiming its broadside at the Fonthammer and Dernby sailing in the wake of the Woodrow. By the time the Sheepskin had sailed into effective firing range of the two Imperial Ships, the Woodrow had raised its shields. And further attacks from the front facing cannons were dispersed on the shields. The Dernby was not so lucky, its communication lattice decimated by the surprise attack. The Woodrow by this point fired its first broadside at the attacking Fonthammer. 16 cannons firing at the same time and delivering the 240mm ordinance across the waves. The Dernby, now that it was directly under attack, increased engine power and fired a few shells from their two deck guns at the Sheepskin. These small 3 inch guns would be small, but still packed heavy ordinance. While the Woodrow reloaded and prepared another broadside salvo, they also fired off their compliment of deck guns. The majority of their six inch guns were aimed at the Sheepskin, trying to cover the Dernby with heavy fire support.