|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Fri Feb 25, 2011 1:25 pm
This roleplay is set in a highly-futuristic setting, and has a complicated back story. It is a comming of age roleplay, whereas also it is also reclamation roleplay. It is a power roleplay and also an adventure roleplay.
The below story is where the idea of the roleplay came from, I Tamith, wrtoe all of it in its entirety and the copy of this story is strictly forbidden without the authors express consent OR forpurposes that have to do directly with the roleplay aforementioned. After the short story I will fill in details of the galaxy, though it is open to creative minds to tinker with.
"Shades, shadows and blood!” Phak Gregor yelled vehemently as his foot sunk a foot into the boggy ground. Herold Dusin’s head looked over to his co-pilot, screaming in agony about how cruel life was, the gods were, how his wife mistreats him and crash landing on an unknown planet was the last straw in the string of unfortunate events known as Phak Gregor’s unfortunate life.
Dusin finished climbing out of the cockpit, grabbed his survival gear and Gregor’s.
“Dunce-face!” Gregor called out, always insulting Dusin who was still a rookie.
Dusin was about to walk around to the other side of the small fighter craft and help his incompetent superior out of the mud, but he paused, for just a moment.
‘We are alone on this planet. No one would miss that idiot, plus rations would last twice as long with him gone. What better time to shoot him then now, when he is stuck in the mud on an uncharted planet?’
A couple of moments passed before Herold Dusin came around the nose of the craft and spotted Phak Gregor stuck in the mud. Dusin walked over to Gregor carefully and reached out for his arm. Suddenly Dusin’s world became hot, really hot. He looked down and saw Gregor holding a laser-pistol to his own stomach. He was about to mouth why before Dusin realized that Gregor must’ve thought about this earlier, and that realization came just before he blacked out.
‘Air! Air! Air!’ his mind screamed in agony. Dusin used much what was left of his strength to turn his head out of the puddle of water he was so miserably drowning in. Air filled his lungs and for a moment, life seemed to be alright. He knew that he was laying in mud, with a laser wound to his side. Yes, life was alright; the gods must be looking out for him. Dusin took his mind off his immediate pain by trying to ponder what plan they would have for a low-life like him.
To much time wasted. Dusin rolled onto his side and heaved himself up with his arm that did not feel dead like the other. Groans ensued. “Shoulda never joined the dammed Confederacy.” The Kingdom of Gothe sounded like a more pleasing idea to Dusin right now. At least they weren’t at war with anyone. finishing his own thought: “Hell, joining some dammed space pirate crew would of turned out better then this.”
Dusin got a good look at his surroundings for the first time; dark, wet, forested, more darkness. No, wait, the darkness came from the massive tree tops that intertwined with each other, hardly letting any light through. Dusin looked around for any sign of Gregor or a trail he might’ve left. “Damn all the Saints to Hell.” Dusin cursed. It was to damned dark to tell, even if one didn’t factor in the water on the ground covered any trail.
Dusin decided it was time to stop complaining and so he grabbed onto one of the space-ships hand-rails and hoisted himself up with much more groaning. At least laser wounds cauterized themselves. Food, was Dusin’s first concern. Water seemed abundant enough and a good fire would take out impurities. For once Dusin realized growing up on a Central-planet and receiving its primary education came in handy. He wouldn’t of known to boil water. Did Gregor? The was a thought Dusin liked most. Gregor dying because of being an imbecile, even with all the food.
As much misery that surrounded Dusin while hobbling through the trees with a laser wound to his side would bring down any other rational human-being he was not sad. He kept telling himself that he would come behind Gregor at any moment then shoot him, take his rations, and then wait for rescue to arrive. Dusin hadn’t had the slightest idea which direction Gregor had traveled in, plus Gregor still had a perfectly intact body; whereas his own was charred on the left side of his stomach.
It was then that Dusin heard a low whine.
Dusin thought it was a Dachium F66 transport - the hover craft commonly used by pirates and thugs for its steady reliability - at first. but the closer he moved towards the sound the less he thought it was like anything he’d ever heard in his life, and it wasn’t as close as he originally thought it was. ‘Stupid,” he thought to himself. Probably referring to joining up with Confederacy, and how it led him here.
Light!
Dusin saw a break in the trees and light streaming in through the forest from a clearing beyond. He hobbled slightly faster towards it, excited that the sound was coming from that direction and it might be human; the thought of pirates crossed his mind but he would do whatever it took to get off this planet. The closer he got to the edge of the tree line the more he realized the trees were regularly cut in the area, and the forest floor was swept clean. ‘somebody must live close by’.
It was not just a clearing, but what looked like a road. The road looked like it was made out of cold blue steel, only a couple of feet across though. Dusin thought that the small road was extremely impractical; it was only wide enough for a person to stand side by side with another person. Moving an army on would be very unlikely, and vehicles would have to be as small as a Photonbike to successfully drive upon it.
Dusin looked up and down the endless blue road in the forest for the sound of the constant hum hat was steadily getting louder. Dusin looked down the direction of where the sound was coming from and as soon as he turned his head the small road lit up from its dull blue-steel look to a very bright blue glow. Dusin took a step back just in time to make room for several robots that were being propelled along the road at extremely high speeds.
“Shades!” Dusin yelped as he stumbled back from the road. He realized that the small road was some type of anti-gravity-tram system. These types of roads were said to have been in the workings for several decades. The Confederate Legate, Yonious Gildrcheir IV, had been saying that the Confederate Military was developing a roadway that would allow troops to move faster across the ground then spaceships could move in the air. That was supposed to be frontier technology. Stuff that wasn’t around yet.
After a few minutes the road/transport stopped humming and the blue disappeared. Dusin climbed onto the road and then the road turned bright blue again. Dusin turned to walk in the direction of the robots and after taking his first step he shot forward without a pain in his body. The trees were a sea of green around him, and for a couple moments, Dusin forgot about crash-landing on the unknown planet and getting shot by his superior.
Dusin was on the track so long that he began to fall asleep. He could not fathom how fast he was traveling, or the massive distance that he crossed in a few hours. He was already out of the forest and over endless fields of grass. Every once in a while a looming structure would fly by, made by seemingly the same metal as the road/human cannon. They were too distant for him to make out any details, but they were massive nonetheless.
Dusin fell asleep hungry, and with his wound hurting on his side but the road carried him across the planets surface. The road carried him through the night over a boundless ocean with massive sea creatures lurking underneath, and during the dead of the night as Dusin lay asleep on the road, a structure the size of a mountain loomed ahead. If, perchance he were to awaken the structure might seem like any, plain old mountain to his untrained eyes.
It was so much more.
He was to become so much more.
--
Chapter 1; reclaimer
The occasional thrum of a machine is what brought Dusin back from his slumber. He wondered if he had crash-landed at the end of the road, for he was no longer moving. Maybe he was dead, some creature gobbled him up while he was asleep and now he was enjoying the eternal rest promised to the devout followers of the Gods. He was no devout followers. He did believe in gods, and Makhar’s creation of the Universe, but he didn’t do any rituals, and he dint go to Temple. Ever.
No, he must not be dead. He would freeze in the top layers of hell, where the Sunday Sinners would go. Petty thieves. Dusin almost laughed at the thought of him being on the same level as thieves. Wait, no, he did think himself on the same level. Ha.
The thrumming sound came to life momentarily and brought Dusin out of his thoughts. Dusin opened his eyes to find he was in a brightly lit room, kind of like a hospital but the light didn't seem to have a source. What Dusin noted most was the round object with twenty little arms hovering over his body. It was most defiantly a robot, and it was most defiantly scanning him with some green light.
“Hey, you.” Dusin said to the robot.
The little orb turned around to what seemed like the back side of it where a little panel opened revealing what looked like some-sort of optical device. The orb started thrumming, almost violently.
----------
The galaxy
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Feb 25, 2011 1:25 pm
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Feb 25, 2011 1:47 pm
So as the Galaxy is, The gods rule everything. Though, the gods have not been seen in years. Since Humans left earth they found the galaxy was ruled by supreme beings. At first humanity did not bow, but the a single supreme-being; the God of Destruction; Ahmonet, destroyed earths defenses. Ahmonet wasw impervious to attacks, and with the wave of his hand earths oceans crashed scross continents.
Earth was no more and now 10,000 years later humans are fully integrated into the galaxy, worshiping the same supreme-beings as the rest. These supreme beings though, issue orders from a hidden planet, and control the galaxy through fear. Not a single person has seen a god walk among the living in over 100 years, and most fear that the gods are displeased with them. End of time cults have sprung up, philosophers question what the galaxy did wrong.
The galaxy is at war, the confederate States of Chelshutta are at War with the bigger Kingdom of Gothe over taxes. The lone hyperspace lane between the capital planet of Chelshutta and Shisrune is what is fought over hourly.
Dusin has crashlanded on an uncharted planet, where super advanced technology and robots seem to reign. Dusin has no idea of what he has found, and what it means for the galaxy, or its past.
You, starting the roleplay will also crashland on the planet. maybe more spill-over fighter jets like Dusin from the hyperlane war. Maybe everyone will be on a big civillian shuttle intended to move tourists from Chelshutta to Shizrune.
In the roleplay do not think to make up anything about the gods, there history, or anything on the planet. I do not mind if you make up cultures surrounding the gods, or histories of certain planets in the glaaxy. You can name names of generals and big merchant firms. As we progress through the planet I will reveal more myteies about it. You can try to claim its powers for your own, or join with others for saftey purposes.
If you still have any questions feel free to PM me. Finnally do not jasonmod, do not roleplay unless you feel you can wirte, and compete with more advanced rolepalyers. THe roleplay is mature, and anyone under 18 should leave this page.
Races:
(for all intents and purposes you can make up races, though if you even get the inklingiest of an idea to make them godmoddable, i will not accept your race sheet. you may use dwarves and elves and the such becuase i dont feel like taking the time to list races and draw them out.)
Character cheet:
Name:
Age:
Race:
Equipment:
Bio:
Factions you belong to:
(no, you may not know a god, you may not be a god you may not have seen a god except in holovidieo's like everyone else) (no age over 100) (oh and on the map if an (H) is under a name of a planet then it means it can be traveld to instantly by the closet adjacet planet. The (H) stands for (Hyperlane)
The planet everything is transpirering on is Haylkeon, an uncharted, unknown, forgotten, no known history/myths about it planet.
I am currently accepting character sheets and you may post them directly to this page.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Feb 26, 2011 4:33 pm
Gaia Username: The Diamond God
Name: Tlamndera-Hune Zaphresz
Age: *53 Standard years
Race: Epsons
Equipment: N/a
Bio: Tlamndera-Hune was your average Epsons, trying to get by in a galaxy who had no love for Epsoni. He was born on the crossroad-world of Shizrune into a slum like any other. When he came of age, he took the only opportunity that was open to Epsoni that allowed for them to rise above their station: he join the military...well, tried to anyway. He failed the entrance examine and was sent back to his slums with a rude word. The very next night, Tlamndera-Hune went out and signed up for the Steel Angels, a mercenary group that was on retainer from the Gothe Navy. They held no prejudice against a man's race, so long as he could fight. Ten standard years later, and Tlamndera-Hune found himself being slowly dragged down into a small planet (that according to his star charts didn't exist) by said planet's gravity well when his fighter's power shorted out after a misjump in hyperspace.
Factions you belong to: Gothe
*Epsons (plural is Epsoni) spend roughly twenty Standard years in metamorphosis/egg state in where they developed into heir full being. Reportedly, they live upwards of 300 standard years...but the last documented case of that happening was nearly 200 years previous, and that case was a scientific analysis; at the marker of 343, the patient attempted escape and was summarily terminated after killing four members of the research team. Their own violent natures keep population and age in check. The average life span is nearly a hundred years or so.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Feb 26, 2011 4:52 pm
Name: Herold Dusin
Age: 29
Race: Human
Equipment: Standard Confederate Pilot armor, Standard confederate Laser-sidearm
Bio: Dusin grew up on Telgada to a middle class family. He married early to the love of his life and all seemed well. She died in a hover-bike accident and Dusin was crushed. He then left for the outer planets and first becuase a mercenry- and when life seemed to goo, he placed himself in a worse situation and becuase a space pirate; something he acceled at. Aftetr years of space-raiding he joined the confederatacy due to the fact that his entire crew was killed and only joining up with them could he survive.
Factions you belong to: none
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Feb 26, 2011 9:27 pm
Tlamndera-Hune Zaphresz
Tlamndera-Hune was busy spouting all the foul words, phrases and other such things in all the languages he knew. It was an extensive list; the Steel Angels were known for a great many things, their language as well. When he awoke from his daily slumber that morning, he knew it was going to be a bad day. He was put on the roster at the last minute as an *outrider for the convoy of Steel Angel warships as they patrolled the disputed hyperspace lane. And then he'd received orders that the battle group was jumping to assist another task force that had been ambushed by the Chelshutta dogs. Rather then to take the time to recall and dock the scouts (a time-consuming maneuver), the battle group commander ordered that the scouts were to jump along with the heavier frigates and cruisers; they would transmit the co-ordinates over to the pilots. The problem was, even with correct co-ordinates, hyperspace was risky business; there was always...unsound variations.
And because of that, Tlamndera-Hune was floating alone in his fighter looking at a planet that shouldn't have existed. It was in none of his star-charts, anyway, and he didn't recognize the land-masses, limited though his expertise was in this manner. He quickly discovered that he had no power and that the planet (whatever it was) was looming ever closer; and thus the multi-lingual cursing had begun. When it was almost too late, Tlamndera-Hune finally managed to get some life back into the fighter, but by then he'd drifted in too deep to the gravity well and could not fly back out; and besides, where there were planets, there was civilization. Where there was civilization, there were Steel Angels. It was a bumpy ride, but it wasn't a fatal one.
The Epsons climbed from his fighter with a few scratches and bruises, but nothing serious. He looked around him, his manipulation tentacles waving slowly in the breeze. He'd landed in a clearing full of yellow grass, wherever the skips from the bottom of his fighter hadn't ripped the earth to pieces. Tlamndera-Hune didn't not weep for the dead grass; all must die in the end, so says the Gods Who Walked. If anything, he weeped for his fighter. From the exterior, he could see his the source of his malfunction: a wide gaping hole had been ripped through the armor above the engines. I must've been hit by a micrometeorite when I jumped. Damnation. Tlamndera-Hune inspected the hole further, wondering how he ever managed to survive. Now he turned away from the damaged craft and inspected his surroundings; they offered more hope. He spotted a road through the carefully planted trees, shinning in the sunlight that he thought was too bright. He sealed his fighter and made his way to the road.
Tlamndera-Hune looked first one way, then the other; the road stretched on into the eternities of both directions. By his reasoning, all roads lead somewhere...but some faster then others. As he watched, a robot rose over a hill from on direction and carried on his travels, following the silvery-blue road until he disappeared over the next set of hills. Direction enough for me. The epsons set off after the robot...and had to choke back a shriek of shock and horror as the road propelled him at speeds he did no know existed outside of star ships.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Feb 27, 2011 10:30 am
Once the flaoting orb stopped vibrating Dusin's heart rate went down immensly. The orb went back to work scanning his legs, paying no mind to Dusin's questioning.
"At least im not sleeping in mud." Dusin said semi-sarcastically. He wondered if sleeping in the mud was better off then this place. Only the Gods would know what things the robots did to people here.
"Mud; wet, soft earthy matter, as on the ground after rain, at the bottom of a pond, or along the banks of a river; mire. Also known as Alluvium, In your dilluted language." Dusan snapped his head to the left to find an almost human-like robot comming in through a doorway that wasnt there a minute ago. "Mud is cold, wet, and filled with small bugs which your pysical composition, Homo Saipen , is not used to and is uncomfotable on, wet, cold surfaces. Sleeping here is most definatly better then sleeping in the mud."
Dusin laughed at the utter rediculousness of the scene. "So where am I?"
"Haylkeon, as it was lastly named." The robot said monotonously. Dusin studied the robot, and then noticed the symbol of the gods branded on the forehead of the robot.
"Am I, am I on the planet of the Gods??" Dusin asked, as if he didnt want to blieve it.
"You are on the planet of Our Creators, The hidden outpost of the Halyk Empire."
Dusin thought maybe the robot was reffering to the gods, it was branded after all! Dusin should not be imposing at all. If he accidently was on the planet of the gods he did not want to do anything to anger them or there advanced servants.
"So um... Whats next?" He thought to himself he couldnt ask for food, or to see its masters becuase both would be imposing, right?
The robot seemed to clear its throat merrily. It cleared its throat?? "You will be taken into the cafeteria for nourshment, then brought to our Lord for questioning."
' Right, that doesnt sound so bad. Not so bad! ' Dusin thought, ' I might meet a god! '
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Feb 27, 2011 7:36 pm
Tlamndera-Hune Zaphresz
Tlamndera-Hune sailed on the strange road, flashing through cities that must've been hundreds of klicks wide, cities that would've given the massive settlements on the Central Planets a run for their money. He saw robot minions by the millions...but not a single living soul. After what Tlamndera-Hune assumed was many hours later (his chrono which was set to standard time had been damaged in the crash and no longer functioned) he was spat out at the end of the endless road, before a massive, grey building. More and more, he was starting to think that the Empire had no outposts here, neither did the Steel Angels or any other civilized folk. It easily matched the size of one or two of the smaller cities he'd sped through; if the epsons had still been on the queer road, he could have mistaken it for a mountain. A massive portal was open, and robots traveled in and out of the facility, through an off colored energy shield; the epsons could hear it crackling menacingly. Obviously it was not for the living. If he had to guess, he would've assumed that the door was some kind of cargo entrance; it was easily fifty meters by a hundred meters. Most shuttles would have no problems flying through the portal. Just looking at it gave the mercenary the shivers. What could they possibly be importing through there? When Tlamndera-Hune realized what he was doing, he "laughed," at himself. Are you *Din'lai, or Epsoni? Without further ado, he strode towards the mountain-building, his fighting claws raised, ready for anything; he figured that there was another way in, besides through the deadly energy barriers over the cargo entrance. The robots were ignoring him, beside a mechanical apology when he bumped into them. Epsons made way for no one and nothing.
When he approached, a sally-port opened besides the cargo doors and what the grizzled and battle scared Steel Angel assumed was an android stepped out, blocking his way. It was shorter then he, but broader, and designed off of a human frame. In it's hands, it held a shock-rod and Tlamndera-Hune could see a brace of laser rifles crossed on it's back. A smaller, shock-pistol was magnetically held to its hip. Taking the (not so subtle) hint, the epsons stopped out of range of the guard android, and drudged up the b*****d Common tongue that everyone at least understood, if not spoke a little of.
"What is this place? Where am I? What planet is this?"
[*Fox-like humanoid life form. Primarily merchants, and mongers; not known for their courage, but they are excellent shots when pushed into desperation.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Feb 27, 2011 8:21 pm
The Humanoid robot looked at the gangly creature, and scanned through its vast stores of knowledge on it. Its files came up empty. The creature though, seemed to have evolved from what was once a primal species the Creators had almost wiped out a millenia ago.
"What is this place? Where am I? What planet is this?" It asked In a very sluggish, warped fashion.
The robot did quick calculations and then came to the relization that over the 600,000 thousand years Galatic Basic was now spoken as the creature did. The robots systems calculated new speach patterns for a minute then he spoke, as only an AI can do.
"This is Haylkeon, home to the Halyk Empire and its armies. Other then that I will not tell you more. Though If you wish it, I will bring you to Oratio, for Oratio can answer your questions."
___________
After Dusin finished eating what tasted like clay he did feel better, and not hunrgy at all. Dusin looked down to his stomach and noticed that there was no wound or even scar where he had gotten shot at! Wow!
Almost immediatly after he finished eating he was taken to what he assumed was an elevator. As soon as the doors closed there was a small lurch in movement and all was still again. Dusin turned to the robot.
"We are traveling really fast arnt we?"
The robot turned its head to him, "We just went 20 hyper-tworcs down."
"Right, hyper-tworcs. Whatever that is." Dusin turned back to the door as it opened to reveal a massive circular room that was so large, Dusin wasnt exactly sure how many miles it was to each wall. By this point he wasnt impressed anymore, awe left him after he saw hundreds of thousands of some type of Power-armor suits hanging past a glass wall when he was walking to lunch.
Dusin walked forward onto the seemingly endless bridge and as the roads did before; it shot him to the center.
The platform held a small terminal, with the symbol of the gods printed on it, it had no other visible buttons or marks.
A purple light flashed on above the terminal and took shape to look exactly like Dusin.
"Um, are you a god?" Dusin asked. H ealmost had the urge to scratch his head to make himself look even more dumb.
"No, I am not." It responded. "I am one of the most advanced artificial intelligence programs ever created by the Haylk Empire. You are?"
"Dusin, Im uh, a simple pilot." 'wow self, all I can say to the super advanced AI is that im a pilot? I feel dumb.'
"Tell me, Dusin, how fares the Enternal Struggle?" It asked.
"Can I call you Haylk? Cause I need to call you somthing."
"If you must."
"What is the eternal Struggle?" Dusin felt like an idiot, especially in front of the AI.
"It is the War Between the Haylk Empire, the Tronoshiad Empire, and the Umdacium Empire."
Dusin almost squeeled. "The Umdacium is what the hidden planet of the gods is called!"
"Then it is as we have feared. The Umdacium won." The AI seemed to quiver for a moment. If a person was to stand outside they would see all of the robots tremble slightly, and the Andriods stop completely and if they were capable of crying, it would be so.
"So let me get this strait, Haylk. Your Creators fought the Gods?" Dusin asked.
"No, they fought the Umdacium."
"So then, why have you now just heard about it?"
"This planet is a hiden planet and no communication was to be sent to it no matter the cost. Before our Creators left for the Great war, they told us they would come back after the we had stockpiled enough resources for another Campain." The AI quivered again.
"How long after they were gone did you start to maybe think they wernt comming back?"
"It has happened before, granted not as long as this but out Creators left some stockpile planets for ten thousand years or more. We wernt programmed to question, just to follow orders."
"So, how long have you been preparing?" Dusin asked, unsure of the answer, or what it meant for the galaxy, and its faith in general.
"Aproximatly 988,432 years of this planets rotation. We have Sixty Billion Hyper-Armor suits, one-trillion aker'das particle arm-cannons, 2 billion Yorndinshire Fighter-class space-ships, 899 million planetary assult packages 1 million Youvrine-class battle-ships, and one complete Ardath-class Super Battle-Crusier; all ready for deployment." The AI sounded proud, but then a hint of sadness crept into its voice pattern becuase it knew, all those years of work, all that energy wasted; and no one was there to pick up the delivery. There side lost the great war.
A hum filled the room and the AI looked back to Dusin. "It seems we have another guest."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Feb 27, 2011 10:18 pm
Name: Elxa Dun
Age:42
Race: Dwarf
Equipment: Omni Tool, Rock-it-Launcher(Fires anything that can fit in it)
Bio: Elxa was born and raised on Diaeta, a planet getting sucked into a black hole. By age 4 he knew how to create a bomb from scrap metal and a laser battery. By age 7, he was the best engineer the planet has come to see. At age 10, the greatest tactician to walk the galaxy. After that he was thrown into the Diaetan military. At age 19, he became the youngest General in known Diaetan history. Since then, he continued to create weapons and , produce the best tactics ever. For about the past ten years, the struggle has been to create a machine that would push the planet away from the black hole that was sucking them in. Now at age 42, he was sent by the Dwarven King, Rumuk'tir, to find anything to help with this process.
Factions you belong to: Diaeta
|
|
|
|
|
|
Kvothe the Kingkiller Vice Captain
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Feb 28, 2011 11:51 am
Tlamndera-Hune Zaphresz
The Halyk Empire? Who...or what, is that? An offshoot of Chelshutta? Another rebellious colony? They were not unheard of, the colonies who decided they didn't want to be beholden to either the Empire or the Confederacy...but this place was too well developed to just be a simple colony. And there was still the matter of the planet not showing up on his fighter's nav computer...Tlamndera-Hune's manipulation tentacles waved in annoyance at the android guard's lack of knowledge. They always seem to be lacking in some way. After a time, he nodded and followed the android. The building was getting more and more intriguing the further inside Tlamndera-Hune went. At one point, they seemed to be trudging along through an armory...that could equip a force of millions, if not billions. A military instillation? For the Chelshuttas? They stepped onto another one of those strange magnetic roads, a miniature of the one outside. Off like a rocket, he was once more sailing. This one ended at the mouth of an elevator, and the android gestured to it with its shock-rod.
Tlamndera-Hune stepped up to the lift; the last he saw of the robot was through the closing doors. He felt the elevator jerk as it dropped at hundred of meters a second. He hadn't realized that the it had ceased until the doors were once more opening to reveal a room that seemed to be the breath and width of the facilities above. Tlamndera-Hune glanced around him, as he stepped out of the elevator; the epsons was surprised once more as he felt the bridge take hold of him. It deposited him roughly (like it wasn't used to transporting being of his mass and size) more or less at the center of the bridge...next to two other being. One other. At first glance, the hologram human appeared to be, well, a human. Alive. But as Tlamndera-Hune examined him more closely, he could see the lines of light moving, some of them accidentally skipping a line. It was a well designed program without a doubt, but still a program.
The other one, the living one, was a human clad in the uniform of a low-level pilot from the Confederacy. Tlamndera-Hune noticed a large hole in the lower torso of Dusin's uniform that looked remarkably like it was caused by a laser...except of course, there was no corresponding hole in the meat-bag's skin. Humans are so soft. He must not have been the owner of the uniform then. The Confederacy wasn't losing this war, not yet, but it was only a matter of time, and the resources were much tighter. It would not surprise the epsons to discover that they were recycling uniforms. His mouth curled, and he raised himself to his full three meter height, his fighting claws ready. His race made a fearful image when angered, and nothing angered his race like an enemy present.
"Chelshutta dog."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Feb 28, 2011 1:29 pm
"Woah!" Dusin said, taking a step back to the edge of the small platform. "I didnt mean to offend you big guy." Dusin almost thought about jumping off the platform, it might have been better then letting that thing eat him alive.
"Please refrain from violence. I am programmed to kill anything that exhibits violence in this particualr chamber." The AI stated as a matter-of-fact. "Sentient creature, what is your name.?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Feb 28, 2011 3:44 pm
Tlamndera-Hune Zaphresz
Tlamndera-Hune was of a mind to pay the AI no attention and kill the puny manling and be done with it. Then again, this may be a Chelshutta outpost. It would be bad to kill a confederate soldier in their own base. Especially since he had no way off of planet or out of the system, and he didn't see a hanger on his way through the base. So he lowered his claws and took a step back from Dusin, allowing him to move away from the edge of the narrow walk-way. He glanced over at the project AI. Tlamndera-Hune was a Hilt of the Steel Angels and would bow (metaphorically and physically) to no one. The Angels divided their members up into a caste of soldiers and pilots based on their prowess in battle and knowledge of the Gods Who Walked. The lowest (and newest) were called Sheath, then Tip, and then Edge, Blade, Hilt, and so on and so forth, up to the highest level: Arm. They fancied themselves the army of the Gods and followed Their Will...even if it was not given to them directly anymore.
"Many call me Zaphresz, but you, program will call me Tlamndera-Hune. What is the significance of this chamber? Identify yourself, program."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Mar 01, 2011 1:09 pm
"Many call me Zaphresz, but you, program will call me Tlamndera-Hune. What is the significance of this chamber? Identify yourself, program." Zaphresz ordered
"Very well." The program stated. "This chamber has many thousands of 1x1 meter plates that each have the processing power to move information at the speed of light. and combined I am able to communicate with every single entity connected to this planets network. My creators named me Oratio, I am, or was, by Haylk standards; their best artificial inteligance program ever created." Oratio finished, but only had a moment of silence before continuing.
"Tell me, Tlamndera-Hune, what did Dusin do to offend you so?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Mar 01, 2011 2:17 pm
Tlamndera-Hune Zaphresz
Tlamndera-Hune ignored Oratio's question. Dusin was an enemy and an off-worlder at that; his very physic and coloring screamed that he was a pauper from Telgada. As Tlamndera-Hune saw it, Dusin sealed his fate to death the moment he signed up for the military. If he couldn't kill in the AI's home "tower," well then, he'd just kill Dusin the moment they left.
"The android upstairs mentioned that name. Haylk. Who or what is this 'Haylk?'"
The name felt strange to the epsons' tongue. It is not Basic, that is certain. Everything felt strange in this place. It was too technologically advanced, even by the Polsterine standards. They were the center for the galaxy for all things involved with learning, technological talents and culture. They were the ones who first developed the hyperspace hubs that allowed for instantaneous jumps between system, as opposed to the standard FTL drives that allowed for quick travel...but was still subjected to the realities of relativity. The roads alone...The Pollies (as the slang called the natives of Polsterine) would kill for the chance to dissect one of those queer blue roads.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
