Praetor

Ronin LLC.

29AP

Business (20AP) (60AP)

 SL4 (7AP) (17/22)

Heavy Infantry (1AP)

Regular (1AP)

32RP

 Mechs (7AP) (25/25)

 Heavy Infantry Armor (25AP) (25/30)

Nation: Japan

Leader’s History (Research your Monarch!) : In our times, he took on the title of Meiji the Great after his death. In 1885, he is The Emperor. A man endowed with a magnificent beard and wise eyes, he leads his nation through a time of great change. A time of gunpowder, capitalism and renewal. A time where Japan pulls up a seat to the table of great nations. Often called a bully in later tales, he was brought up in the times of Unequal Treaties, and this no doubt lingered in his mind for years to come, in his times of rule. Married to Ichijo Haruko and living, as his name implies, in an era of Enlightened Rule (Meiji), he faced many changes, shifts and the disappearance of the Shogun as supreme authority. Throughout all this, he has religiously attended cabinet meetings and other governmental functions, every day, even when he kept silent, he watched over his proud nation, proudly.

Nation’s Recent History: The Meiji restoration changed everything. As did Matthew Perry's Black Ships, who broke Japan's isolationism and opened it to trade from around the world, even if it was cripplingly in the Westerners favor. A fact that persisted for quite a while. After him, the restoration brough the end of the Shogunate, the Boshin wars, and finally, a centralized state. Even now, in the year 1885, there are serious talks of establishing a Prime Minister, much like in the west. It is almost certain, by now. Japan modernizes, it changes, and looses many of its Feudal roots. But many still linger...

Discord: Król Bolesław I Chrobry#9839

I'm glad I left before it became standard to enforce such absurd rules as "Do x amounts of emotes to do this." 

lmao

A neighbourhood doesn't become better if the administration doesn't invest into it. A store's clientele doesn't improve and a school doesn't become better if the staff doesn't try to make it. Reversely, they'll decline if quality of staff declines. If the community is like this, the roots of the problem go back years, to the staff. If you want to fix it, it needs to start with the staff.

Inane words like "We should be better than this," are just idealistic irrelevance that doesn't change anything.

Ronin LLC.

He wore ceremonial armor, of course. Who would send a man into combat with a red dot on their shoulder and a hachimaki around their forehead. A fine man, with a long face and high cheekbones. Perhaps descended from a noble family, from centuries ago. Perhaps the ancestor of a long forgotten samuraï. His eyes were dark and focused straight ahead. His gaze, like a focused beam, shot about a foot above Rysuusuke’s head. They called him the Short Dragon among the rank and file, and the name had spread to the people too. He didn’t mind, it was not an insult. Merely a statement of fact. He was short and he was a dragon. And he was still alive beyond what would have been expected of him. Much like a short dragon. He looked the soldier up and down. His white armor shone brightly, the newly added Kinetic Gel padding it up in places he had never had it. Heavier, perhaps. Bulky? Probably not, he had seen them in action earlier today. Held across his chest was a rifle, boxy, but slim and long, a careful melody of danger and elegance, crafted and designed by those who knew that image was as important as effectiveness in their business.

The tropical heat blasted down upon Ryuusuke’s neck and shoulders, bringing forth beads of sweat upon his neck, only for them to drop down his withered back. Gnats and mosquito’s whined around his head, ignoring him, with his bad blood and poor veins, lasering in on the soldiers lined up in front of him. One landed upon the man’s prominent cheek, it bit him. He didn’t even flinch, and these hurt more than their brothers on earth. “Him,” he said quietly.

The platform they stood upon was raised to a little under tree level, in a region where the canopy arched above high enough to spawn envy within the hearts of those who had once built Cathedrals in Europe. Bridges leapt back and forth throughout the trees, leading to a series of other platforms, and ground areas. A training facility most excellent. Most needed. “He will do well.” So Shirou Yasutake motioned with an arm, standing behind him. A blur in the corner of his eye, all done without a word. The soldier bowed deeply before them both and marched over to the other side of the platform, where twenty-two others waited.

Ceremonial swords shone at their sides, an old model, a traditional one. It would never do in combat. Miss Kase knew, so did Yasutake. Given the time, they too would change with the world around them. He looked at the assembled twenty-two for a moment before turning back to the files before him. Eight more to go, an honor guard for a Convention. A good time to advertise their product. Guns and hard men.

 

Actions

26 AP

16 into Universities (200 AP invested)

10 AP into SL3 (10/12)

32 RP

12 RP into T1 Mechs (20/25)

20 RP into T3 Kinetic Weaponry (50 RP invested)

The Human Olympic Comittee (H.O.C)

Members of the Board

Head: The Trade Federation (2)

The Elysian League (1)

The Frontier Colony Affiliation (1)

Commonwealth of Redskap (1)

Four Tigers Holdings, LLC. (1)

Proposed Disciplines for the Elysium Olympics

-Athletics

-Force Blade Fencing

-Football

-Gymnastic Artistic

-Grav-Luge

-Martial Arts

-Swimming

-Wrestling Greco-Roman

-Triathlon

-Tennis

-Synchronized Diving

-Fusion Racing

-Zero-G Boxing

-Kinetic Shooting

-Space Sailing

Rules

The Olympics will take place every 3 years.

The Olympics will be hosted by the applicant with the highest amount of votes.

The head has limited veto rights over which disciplines shall be competed in.

The Olympics will be human. There will be no genetic modification to the baseline makeup of a common human. No cybernetics, no doping, no clones, no modified humans.

There will always be between 10 and 15 disciplines.

The Olympics will be hosted by nations comprising of humans, willing to compete.

To participate, a nation must have eligible athletes, and pay a sum of 2 billion FedCreds (2AP).

The winners of the most gold medals win the prize pot of 75% of this sum. The runner up will win 25% of it.

The Host will receive the profits, with the head of the Committee receiving 25% of these.

The Head position is eligible for election after every two Olympics.

OOC Mechanics:

The winner of every discipline will be the Nation with the highest /roll20.

Every nation will have 20 points to distribute between every discipline, with a maximum of 5 per discipline. These will be added to their /roll20 in that discipline.

The Trade Federation

The promenade was beautiful at this time of the year. Tall trees from a thousand different planets coexisted in harmony, lovingly tended to by a horde of expertly trained Krib gardeners. Agrikrib & Co. sold their services for a pretty penny, but their skill manifested itself in meandering paths of wood, dirt and stone, that wandered through groves of trees as colorful or comforting as a burning hearth on christmas eve. Quaint bridges drifted above ponds and pools of water so clear that one could see a variety of fauna as diverse as it was plentiful, with koi fish darting between lumbering slug-like molluscs that glowed with bioluminescent glory. Tony paused on the bridge and looked down into the water. The artificial sun far above felt warm on the nape of his neck, and projected his shadow down into the depths, to mix with those of reeds and lilypads.

Snap! A koi fish disappeared in a blur of sand as a Redon crab-like creature plunged its sharp claws into its body, yanking it down into the dirt in a mess of cartilage and shredded flesh. It flopped once or twice, then went still as the crab went to work on his meal. “That was my choice, you know?” rasped Tony to the Ymorian standing beside him. “The designers wanted symbiotic beings, to co-exist and live peacefully.” he snorted and flicked his cigar ashes into the water. A flock of fish crowded around it, expecting a meal, only to swim away despondently a moment later, disappointed.

“Why?”

“Whenever I walk someone around this park, it reminds me of the way things are done here.” He pushed himself off the railing and kept walking. The bridge faded into a path, leading into a dense pack of heavy trees. Every walk he took had a calculated trajectory, meant to complement his words. His speeches were always on time, nobody interrupted him unless he wanted them to. “If you stray off your given path without preparation, the bigger fish will eat your alive.” He scratched his chin, pulling at the metal cybernetics. “Or crabs in this case.”

“Are your threatening me?” said Sulis, a small quaver in his voice.

Tony turned to him as they reached the darkest part of the forest, hidden from view from the other walkers and joggers and slitherers and skitterers. “No, Sulis. I am saying that I put you at the head of BP Galactic because I trust you to make the right choices. The right choice right now, is to cooperate with Xeri & Kosh and get that trizendrium into his factories. The longer you hold back, the more money we leak.”

“His prices are absurd!”

Tony sighed and put an arm around Sulis’ shoulder, his cybernetic arm squeezing his shoulder like a vice. “Sulis, Sulis, I thought you were a smart man. You are no longer in your homeland. Here, the game is different. Here, you work for me.” He spun Sulis around and grabbed his by the jacket, yanking him to the tip of his feet. “Here, what matters is how much money I make. Hold onto that idea, and I’ll make sure money flows back to you in time.”

Tony dropped the Ymorian and flicked a hand, “I’ll be alone now,” he rasped. He was coming down hard and as the Ymorian fled, he pulled out a thin platinum tude, unscrewed it and plugged it up his nose, snorting deeply. Sulis was a wonderfully subservient person, with an eye for profit. Some of the Board would never bend to him, and competition kept him sharp. But Sulis had BP Galactic, and BP Galactic was too valuable to have anywhere but under his thumb.

Actions

125 AP

A new group of mercenaries named Cromwell LLC. announce their services as providers of elite, high-tech destroyers and frigates for all jobs from those on the bad side of the law, to open combat. (0AP)

Using data accumulated by their top analysts in GTC-1 & GTC-2 “Citadel”, along with representatives throughout the galaxy, the Trade Federation begins a great research project to analyse the most profitable, quick and efficient trade routes between nations, and which to take when, when bearing what produce, and what stations will allow for the greatest profit margin, etc. Their place is to create a giant program capable of allowing for efficient, rapid and profitable transport of good for those willing to pay to use it. Of course, nearly all of these try to direct ships through GTC-1 and GTC-2 when possible. (10 AP)

Investment goes into increasing the industrial output of GTC-2 Trizendrium Refineries and weapon manufacturers. The Trade Federation begins to advertise its Trizendrium weaponry, offering to sell bullets, grenades, mortars, anti-tank rifles and more! All at prices so low that they’re practically bankrupting themselves! (25 AP Industry) (50 AP invested)

Peace in the West. Now that’s something the Trade Federation hadn’t heard about in a long time! Well, now that that’s that, investments flow back into Nexus II, to rebuild the once great station and await new trade. (40 AP Business) (180 AP invested)

Monkeys can be quite the evil folk. (30 AP) (170 AP invested)

With the Ar’Gakari tech burning through all their trials, they begin to studiously study the defenses themselves, doing their utmost best to understand how they work, when they are triggered, what methods they use. They are scrupulously scrutinized and analyzed, to figure them out completely, so that they may be copied, and defeated. (11 AP) (40 AP invested)

Two destroyers and a colony ship are created this year. (9 AP)

The Darkul, Ka’Cezh and other affected northern parties are offered a deal. With this new peace, investments made into reigniting a flow of trade by regrowing the starved GTC-1 (West) are welcomed, and in return, beneficial prices on ship docking fees, xylorite fuel etc are promised in return. (0 AP)

Ronin LLC

AP 26

26 AP into University (184 AP total)

RP 28

T2 Kinetic Weaponry (20/20) (Unlocked T2)

8 Into Mechs (8/25 for T1)

Ronin LLC.

Kaikyo - Sol 45 - 1845

Ryuusuke Ashikaga’ reflection stared back at him in a void. The depthless dark glass surrounded his pale reflection like an eternity of stars, engulfing his slight frame in their immensity. Even without such an imposing metaphor to accompany him, his appearance would not have struck many as anything more than unremarkable. An aging japanese man, with neatly brushed silver hair crossing his skull as if raked by a gardener, the furrows barely deep enough to remind him of his once luscious mane of hair. Beneath, a skull with skin as pockmarked as the moon that wrinkled at the smallest shift of his translucent lips.

It was a lie, he wasn’t unremarkable. People might pause to wonder how such a fragile construct still managed to rise out of bed every morning without the help of a exoskeleton. Or lead what seemed to be the remnants of a history stretching back for thousands of years. A sigh slipped past his lips, expulsed from paper-thin lungs that trembled with every frenetic beat of his failing heart.

“Windows, clear,” he said in a voice that belayed the damage wrought upon his body. Even his feeble lungs had yet to rob him of that deep intonation that carried his words through storms of gunfire and the screams of the dying. It was good to speak to himself occasionally, to remind himself of what he still controlled.

The windows dimmed for a moment, then cleared completely. He squinted into the sunlight. It was cresting the mountains on the horizon and with it, the deep mists that permeated the forests were beginning to clear. Great whorls drifted upwards like ghosts escaping their prison of foliage and bark. The District was beginning to poke its tentative peaks out from beneath the trees, like tender shoots of grass aiming for the sun. The first towers glinted in the sunlight, a million drops of dew reflecting its light. What gods had been graceful enough to grant them such a paradise, Ryuusuke would pray to for the remainder of his life.

“Miss Umemoto, I want to make contact with everyone. They will be at each others throats like rabid dogs within the year. It is now our duty to be a part of it.”

Action

12 RP

Scientists begin to perfect the substance known as Kinetic Gel for their soldiers. (10AP) (Tier 1 Achieved)

Whatever funding remains goes into working on better kinetic armament. (2AP) (Tier 2 2/20)

14AP

2.000 Heavy Infantry (1AP)

15.000 Regular Infantry (3AP)

5.000 Light Infantry (1AP)

250 Tanks (1AP)

A whole lot of men and women are recruited into the Defense Force and Security Force. Ronin LLC. is in need of them. (6AP total into troops)

More universities and research labs are built, or at least, begin construction. (8AP) (158AP total into universities)

Ronin LLC. begins to broadcast its location and its tantalizing offers of profitable soldiering to all around them. (0AP)

The Trade Federation

 

Actions

AP

98

Research continues on Trizendrium weaponry. For the most part, the research centers around kinetic weapons augmented by trizendrium in certain aspects, such as bullets tipped with triz, or trizendrium shotguns, etc. However, trizendrium mortars and all other sorts of infantry weapons are also developped and perfected continuously. (13AP) (80AP invested)

Xeri & Kosh Armaments buys a large chunk of land on the surface of GTC-2 and begins to develop weapons manufacturing plants and trizendrium refineries. (25AP) (25 AP into industry)

Business 10 140 total The Citadel once again receives a major investment from the government. More housing, affordable and luxurious! More malls, more parks, more farms. Everything to make a beautiful, gleaming city in the stars. (10 AP) (80 AP into business on this tile) (140 AP into biz total)

Ruthless Monkeys continue to murder stuff. (20AP) (140 invested)

Work on the Ar’Gakari technology continues. The datacore is studies scrupulously, tested and worked on with the utmost care to not let it take over any systems. The weapons, armor etc are studied too. (9AP) (29AP invested)

Arcturus Defense Solutions is hired to add more defenses to the Citadel, in light of the dangers from the Sculptor cluster. (22AP) + 100AP from foreign investors. (152 AP invested)

Mnbli’s tution. (1AP) (Year 3)

Apologies for the **** post. I’m busy irl.

Trade Federation

AP

93

More investment into the Citadel. Better malls, better subway systems, better advertisement panels, better restaurants, better infrastructure, better microwaves -the Hephaestus Type!-, better everything! If the Citadel isn’t the pinacle of Western Galactic excelence, then I don’t know what is! (20AP) (120 Invested) (60 GTC-2 Tile)

The Ar’Gakari flesh, brain matter, weapons and data cores retrieved on the mission are studiously analyzed in different labs, under strict quarantine. The Data Core is thoroughly scanned with TAROT and tested in all manner of ways before being accessed in a way that could release the powerful viruses the weapons proved to contain. Scientists attempt to work on a theory of using cloned brain tissue or skin to gain access to the systems. (20AP)

Ruthless Monkey continues. (20AP) (120 Invested)

Mnbli’s tuition is paid, the Federation donates another 4 billion (4AP) to encourage better classes and training. (5AP)

2 Destroyers and 3 frigates are comissioned. (10AP)

A large campaign to attract foreign investors into GTC-2 for industrial infrastructure is launched, following trends similar to the year before. They outline the benefits, especially for those who make their HQ in the Federation, including the possibility to reach the Board, the governing force behind the nation. In particular, Chupan’Mo industralists are offered beneficial terms, with the Federation extending them a hand to rebuild what may have been lost in the Sculptor Cluster. (10AP) (130 invested business.) (70 GTC-2 Tile)

More research goes into Trizendrium, specifically, perfecting weaponry, creating flamethrowers and anti-armor rounds, as well as grenades and that sort of thing. (7AP) (27AP invested)

The Trade Federation

Admiral Eldrige watched the live feed from a room far below the surface of an unnamed moon. The lighting was dim and red, permeating the edges of the room in a dull glow and leaving the middle devoid of color, a black hole lit only by one screen layed out flat upon a table. She gripped its edges with white fingers, her gaze focused upon the events with hawk-like attention. The drone filming the scene shuddered as a railgun fired nearby, streaking the void of space with a glimmer of ionized gas particles. It spun around with the round, following it as it crossed the gap between the two small fleets, but even as the shot was powering up within the cannons of the opposing ship, its target had moved. Sleek and quick as a snake, the frigate swerved out of the way and spun at an angle that would have torn apart a normal operating crew. It’s matte black hull shone dully in the light of the nearby sun as the shot skimmed along its shields, sparkling in an irridescent glow of energy. Then its righted itself just as fast and in the blink of an eye, its laser cannons fired. “Damn,” she muttered, glancing at the nearby officers and officials watching the screen with rapt attention.

“Captain Anderson, how long would your crew take to fire such a shot, from order to execution?” She asked a man near the back of the room. He had replaced her upon the North Sea, before this. A good man with a well-trained crew. The best in the Federation navy.

He looked down at the screen as the laser hit its target, burning its shields. “Fifteen seconds, perhaps? Ten at best.”

She shook her head and turned back to the screen as the two black frigates moved in perfect syngergy, weaving through shots as if they were fighters and firing with deadly accuracy at the five enemy ships. Missiles came pouring forth from the enemy, trailing exhaust and once again, the frigates reacted as fast as the missiles exited their bays. Point-defense flared, engines roared and the ships spun clear of the explosions, releasing a horde of swarm missiles along with a flurry of laser shots. Two enemies erupted into debris as they were overwhelmed. A minute later, the remaining two hostiles escaped the system, trailing oxygen and wreckage.

Eldrige deactivated the feed and tapped the intercom. “Excellent work, A-72, H-43. Return to Base 4 for debriefing.”

A smile broke across her face. To think that a few years ago, she had struggled against the replicants and watched Nexus disappear into a supernova. These… pilots were the heralds of a new age of space combat. “Find them better target practice than pirates, I want to see them put under stress,” she said, glancing at a nearby man in a white lab coat.

“Admiral, we have yet to fully tes the neuro-links between clone and original copy,” he replied, righting his glasses and frowning. 

“You can keep their identity intact, correct?”

“Yes, ma’am,” replied the scientist after a small pause, and Eldrige grimaced. The Board seemed to have no qualms about this project, but she... She glanced back at the gathered officers as they went through the recording once more, dissecting every clinical move and precise shot executed by the two frigates. This would not go well for anyone. They were playing with forces beyond their knowledge.

“Without corruption?” She said after a pause, jerking out of her reverie.

“From what we have seen, that is correct. Their minds and full personalities will remain uncorrupted.”

“Then we can keep them there until you have it figured out. I do not want to have to wait another decade.” She would have preferred to never see it come to fruition, but that was not her choice to make anymore.

“Of course.”

-----------

“And it is with pleasure that I announce a symbolic shift in the Board’s membership demographics,” said Miranda, standing atop the podium. Her smile hid a welling bitterness and she clenched her jaw as a frown threatened to overtake her carefully crafted expression. She would not let that...man strip away what little dignity she had left. “Due to personal reasons and long-standing health issues, I will be stepping down as CEO of BP Galactic.” A flurry of flashes and murmurs spread throughout the press members assembled before her, rising like a wave until she lifted her hand sharply. “Questions will be answered after the announcement,” she said in a sharp voice. “With my retirement, we must also announce the instatement of two new companies to the board.” A holographic display flickered to life behind her, marking the seven companies currently holding a position on the board.

Dare Horizons & Co. CEO: Tony Blaze III / Human

A mother company to approximately seven-hundred and fifty two subsidiaries in and out of the Trade Federation, including Supersense Gaming.

BP Galactic CEO: Miranda Thresh / Human Sulis Farmana / Ymorian

The main mining import & export company, with a dozen subsidiaries working mining plants throughout the Federation.

Xeri & Kosh Armaments CEO: Xino’Xan Xeros / Cevelli

The producer of a majority of military equipment used within the Federation, from personal armament to ship-based railguns. A leading figure in trizendrium research and holder of said mining facilities.

McLarren & Zerosi CEO: Ynak Zerosi VIII / Zyrka & Jerome McLaggin / Human (Co-CEO)

Holder of the rights to B4-X8 and Harpie MkII production and leading expert in small-scale ship innovation & production.

Farfetch Shipping CEO: Scruff of House Scruffy / T’Jell

A shipping company with a large amount of independent freighters under contract and control of most Federal freighters, Farfetch Shipping controls the flow of trade through the Citadel on a daily basis.

Guardian Enterprises CEO: Julian Samenson / Human

The military arm of the federation. Guardian Enterprises focus primarily upon the defense of Federation soil, the protection of their space stations and national defence as a whole.

AgriPro Ltd. CEO: Glinib / Krib

The agricultural powerhouse of the Federation. Formed after the population boom of 2050, they have overtaken the market with their efficient and high quality produce.

“With the rise of AgriPro and my resignation, we find ourself facing a historic moment in Federation and human history,” she paused and looked down at the display passing by on the screen. “Perhaps unprecedented. Our nation was born decades ago from a small human colony on a terribly harsh world. From there we have spread through the stars and claimed our place in galactic history. And with this spread has come a diversity our originators could never have dreamed of. I am... proud to announce that for the first time in history, humans face a demographic minority in the ruling body of the Federation. We will not forget our roots, but we have opened ourselves to a new future. Thank you.”

She stepped of the podium quickly, her heels clacking against the metallic surface of the plaza ensconced deep within the great halls of the Citadel. Blaze walked up to her and she resisted the urge to strike him. He smiled, the wrinkles on his face pulling taut against the cybernetics embedded into his flesh. For the first time in years, she realized that he was over forty now. His hair was going grey and the youthful burn of ambition had dimmed in his remaining human eye. Now it was only cold, and greedy. “An excellent speech,” he said, shaking her hand in front of the cameras. “I’m that our people will remember your contribution  to our nation for ages to come.”

“**** you,” she whispered through her smiling façade. He had won, her days of power were gone. The Federation belonged to him.

ACTIONS

78 AP

As Project Evil Twin comes to a close, certain refinements and final details must be wrapped up. In this case, certain neurological problems must be addressed, a final test for the hard-working scientists. (15AP) (225 Invested)

As the Citadel grows, more and more resources are put into expanding it in size and quality. New housing districts, better quality amenities, malls, parks, farming districts led by Agrikrib Incorporated, the foremost Krib company in the Federation. Everything is thought of, from aesthetic aspects to functionality. To turn the Citadel into the best space station in the galaxy. (20AP) (100AP Business) (40 on GTC-2 Tile)

More Harpie and B4-X8 bombers are brought forth from the shipyards. (4AP) (400 ships)

The search to unlock the secrets of Trizendrium continues. Effort is put into adapting it into Swarm Missile technology as well as small arms. The scientists speculate about the possibility of creating purely trizendrium weaponry, and try to see if it is a possibility, basing themselves off the Trizendrium Lance that is incorporated into the TF battleship. For the rest, they continue to work on it with kinetic weapons. Mainly, small arms, flamethrowers and anti-armor guns or rounds. (11AP) (20AP invested)

With the approaching end of Evil Twin, Ruthless Monkey is once again picked back up. (15AP) (100 invested)

More defenses for the Citadel. (2AP) (22AP invested)

Two new settlements are created this year, with last years colony ships.

Several bases are created throughout the galaxy, in desolate spots, mostly within Federation space. Heavily fortified, hidden with every means possible from scans, classified and with personal that is permanently assigned to the bases and scanned every week through DNA, background, psychological tests, etc. Secure and secret in every way. (10AP)

As usual, new territories are thoroughly scanned with TAROT-M to reveal any resources. (0AP)

Mnbli, the level eight psionic krib found within the midst of the Federation in the past year is sent to the Grand Alliance Academy for training and alignment. For now, the remainining 12 psionics with above 5 potential remain at home, upon the Citadel. (1AP)

The Trade Federation

Beside him lay Carol-49, spasming on the ground, surrounded by her own feces. Her fingers writhed across her skin like worms, her eyes rolled back into her skull and a bone cracked as her muscles coiled and tensed like krib beneath her skin. They fought to burst out of their prison and she jerked again, her head slamming into the ground. A cough followed by a burst of blood erupting from her lips sprayed his feet in a shower of crimson droplets. He shook, his body wracked by muscles screaming in pain.

“Augustus-72, what do you feel?” blared a voice from a corner of the room, warped by electricity and distance.

He grabbed his arms, his face twisted in pain as another spike of agony reeved its way through his body, shooting down his spine like a knife laying open his back.

“Augustus-72, what do you feel?” repeated that same voice, booming through his head until is echoed in a confusing cacophony.

“Stop!” cried out Augustus, falling onto the floor as his legs gave way beneath him. “I can’t go back inside.”

“Augustus-72, what do you feel?”

“It hurts,” he screamed, rolling into a ball of naked flesh upon the cold iron floor as two beams of light landed upon him. “I can’t do it anymore.” Had he volunteered for this? A small voice asked in the back of his mind. Had he been that insane from the start?

“Two more rounds, clear the failed subject,” said the voice, as cold and cruel as a blizzard.

Boots shook the floor beneath him as five men in white armor, with white masks upon their faces walked up and grabbed him, yanking him up with hands as hard and painful as stone.

“No!” he screamed, writhing in this grasp weakly. “I can’t do it again, don’t put me back!”

He was carried backwards, shoved inside a dark alcove with small, glowing lights dancing about him. Fae creatures to torment him in the darkness. Augustus lurched forward, towards the small door in the darkness. “No!” A blank-faced guard pressed a button and the door slid shut.

“No!”

Actions

70AP

+10AP from Malta

Evil Twins continue to cause trouble. (30AP) (210AP invested)

A huge investment is made to accomodate all species in the Citadel, along with an expansion of its housing districts and re-organization to become more of a city than a space station. Sweeping malls for all species, housing for all, roads for all, public transport for all! Even those lovely little Krib lads. The scar on the planet below, wrought by a warship during the Corruptor War is set up a tourist attraction. (11AP) (80AP into business)

Two colony ships are created, the newest product of the SL4. (6AP)

Three Colony ships are created for Malta. (9AP)

The Citadel faces continues defensive upgrades to secure it from outside threats, now that it seats the Council of the C-GAP. (4AP) (20AP invested)

Funds are diverted to a fellow FEZ member for a personal project of theirs. (5AP)

The Harpie Mk II sees another upgrade, an all around refinement and improvement of the old model. (5AP) (50AP invested)

With trizendrium mining commencing, so does some research. Mainly into weaponizing it on the smaller scale. Namely, creating trizendrium tipped bullets, trizendrium flamethrowers, trizendrium shotguns capable of igniting a foe as well as Anti-armor shells & Anti-Armor rifles capable of being used by one man and punching a hole through tanks, etc. (6AP) (6AP invested)

Professional examiners are hired to inspect the psionics of the Federation and assess their potential. (4AP)

The most recent colony ship lands on the most appropriate planet in the highlighted sector. 

The planet under Citadel is divided into sweeping chunks that are to be rented out as industrial sectors to interested parties. (skype) (0AP)

The Edonian Veterans are immediately put to work training the handpicked men who are to form the Citadel Guard. (0AP)

A low-tax treaty is offered as an incorporation into the C-GAP agreement. (0AP)

The Blaze Plan of 2153 (0AP)

-The Trade Federation will adopt a low tax policy. Income & Profits will no longer be taxed. Purchases will have a tax-rate approximately of 33% the norm for developped nations.

-Special Economic Zones will be formed, notably within the Station of Citadel and upon the planet of GTC-2, below. The national language of such SEZ's will be firstborn in accordance with the economic norms of the galaxy. They will have their own judicial system, administered by a panel of 5 judges. One human, one krib, one ymorian, one Ka'Cezh and one T'Jerian at the moment. The goal is to offer an accessible place with fair taxes to businesses, while still allowing them to operate as if they were in the centers of commerce in other nations.

-It is now law that any foreigner is allowed to make real-estate investments. Be this factories, skyscrapers, malls, etc.

-The Planet of GTC-2 will lease about 3/4 of its landmass to industrial development. Offering these vast tracts of land to foreign investors. The large amounts of refugees will offer both low-salary work, while the special laws of the Special Economic Zones will offer the businesses more freedom in their work.

BASIC INFORMATION

OOC

MC Username: Praetor

Discord Username: 

Have you joined the Renatus Discord server?: Yeah

How active are you?: Active

IC

Name: Ferdinand

Surname: Stafyr

Title: Mayor of Senntisten

Liege Lord: Aurelius Horen

Gender: Male

Date of Birth: 1600

Race: Human

Subrace: Heartlander

Culture: Renatian

PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION

Height: 170cm

Weight: 70kg

Eye Color: Grey

Skin Color: Pale

Hair Color: Grey

Markings: Beautiful, large, well endowed moustache

PERSONAL INFORMATION

Residence: Stafyr Residence

Occupation: Mayor of Senntisten

CITIZEN’S OATH OF LOYALTY

I, Ferdinand Albert Stafyr, hereby swear my loyalty to the King of the Crown of Renatus-Marna, and to uphold and obey the laws of the Crown as its loyal citizen. I understand the penalties and punishments that shall be incurred should I violate these laws.

The Ferdinand Act for Free Housing

Issued and confirmed by Ferdinand of the House Stafyr, Mayor of Senntisten, 5th of the Grand Harvest, 1661.

To all the peoples of Senntisten

Henceforth, the Ferdinand Act for Free Housing is considered law. By this act, all HUMANS of Renatian loyalties are eligible to a FREE house in Senntisten under these conditions:

-They are a member of the Legion.

-NON-HUMANS serving in the Legion is also eligible for free housing.

-They are merchants and owners of an active stall or other place of business within Senntisten.

-They are specialists with a job that will contribute to the advancement of mankind and Renatus.

Should you fulfill one of these conditions, you may contact a steward, or apply upon this noticeboard for free housing within the city. Those who make use of this act first will receive the best houses currently available.

The Stewards 

Catherina Johanna (marinaemily)

Michael Dingleberry (Corpean)

Sophia Halcourt (CloudsInSpace)

Warwick Rothesay Jr. (Nalatac)

The Form

IC

Name:

Condition you fill:

Race:

OOC

Mcname:

The Storming of Hill 61

“Hide with the halflings tonight, women of Norland, for they have more heart than your men on the field.”

A single man stumbles across a battlefield wrought of steel and flesh. Mud long ago turned into a mess of organs and blood slips beneath his feet and he stumbles, catching himself upon a spear planted straight in the ground. Upon it’s glittering tip flutters the torn remnants of a flag, its edges eaten away by fires and swords. Purple and black. The banner stands tall amidst a field of shattered spears.

With a grimace, he lowers his eyes and continues upon his lonely trip, his unsteady gait accentuating the deep red flower of color blooming along his thigh. Every step becomes a fight, a struggle against the implacable, ever crushing pain that courses through his leg like a vipers poison. His iron-shod boots splash into the mud, splattering a nearby corpse with a new layer of grime. He pauses and looks down. A man renation man, his armor gashed deeply along the ribcage by some mighty blow. Where there had once been a face, a large boot had muddled it into a mess of broken bone and twisted flesh. It must have been a face that brought much pride to a distant mother, huddled in her cottage, praying for her sons safe return.

A fierce wind brought with it the sounds of fighting, still going on in the distance and the man stopped to look, shielding his eyes. There! Far in the distance, down in a valley. Smoke and dust, kicked up the feet of a thousand men had settled a gauze of confusion upon the faraway fight, but still, the glimmer of steel, the tip of a spear, the shouts of men. These reached his ears as he watched from afar.

The Norlanders had taken a stand upon a hill, their grimy armor barely reflecting the sun that shone so bright upon the proud steel of their righteous opponents. Their stand had lasted for nought more than an hour before the brave men of Renatus-Marna, their pikes and spears so perfectly aligned, marched up the hill like an unstoppable wave. Trampling any who would resists beneath their feet.

So soon, those men who had sought to test their mettle against a worthy foe found themselves hunting down a rabble between tall trees, and culling them like vermin who had infested a land that was no longer their own.

The sun had barely risen to its zenith by the time the last rebel was cut down.

-Ferdinand Stafyr

The Centre-Galactic Accord for Prosperity

& The  Second Treaty of Tordesillas

An accord between the Cynn Foundation, the Chupan’Mo Empire, the Cevelli Pact and the Trade Federaion with these goals:

To establish a peaceful, unified coalition of nations in the Eastern Galaxy with the goal of stabilizing trade, economy and industry in this sector. To create an enclave of peace in this region and form an Accord of like-minded nations with profit and prosperity as their central tenant.

Yellow = Cevelli

Green = Chupan

Blue = TF

Red = Cynn

Clauses

• To prevent further disputes, the C-GAP will establish an official Zone of Influence. This ZoI will encompass all unoccupied sectors in the delimited area.
• Each nation will gain a claim to a certain part of this ZoI, which they will have exclusive colonial rights to, in rapport to other C-GAP nations.
• The formal creation of the Centre-Galactic Accord for Prosperity, will be officialized by all nations, with its seat at the Citadel, above GTC-2. The C-GAP will be the union of all three nations under the agreement of promoting peace, prosperity and trade.
• The formal creation of the Council, which will consist of one representative of each nation and will reside on the Citadel. They will resolve disputes, pass laws and agree upon the continued prosperity of the C-GAP together.
• The establishment of a Mutual Defense Pact in which any nation attacked without provocation will be aided in a defensive manner by the other two.
• The Agreement to make of the Zone of Influence a Neutral Trade Zone. In which all trade ships of foreign nations may pass unhindered, regardless of the side which they take in war, lest they attack a C-GAP nation directly.
• The agreement to make The Citadel an C-GAP station under the control of the Council.
• The Free utilization of Trade Federation TAROT modules to scout out resources for all parties. (Establishment of TF maintained modules throughout the ZoI to search for resources and threats.)

All nations are invited to the Citadel for the formal signing of the C-GAP.

The Trade Federation

Actions

98AP

Evil Twins truly do hate each other. (45AP) (180AP invested)

The Harpie Mk I fighter faces long expected upgrades. (7AP) (45AP invested)

A TAROT-M module is set up in Hephaestus space and begins to scan for Trizendrium, Itoron, Xylorite and Ribalite, scanning as many sectors -both Hephaestus and nearby uncolonized areas- as possible. (5AP)

The defences on Citadel face continual upgrades. More railguns, more point defense, more missile and torpedo tubes, more mines, more shields, more generators. Everything is needed. (5AP) (16AP invested)

A new colony ship is created. (3AP)

Creation of Citadel Guards, an elite fighting force specifically made to protect the Citadel. Volunteers from elite forces of every C-GAP nations are invited to join. (2AP)

The Shipyard near the Citadel are upgraded from SL2 to SL4. (16AP)

Classified transactions. (6AP)

Selling of 1.000 tons of itoron to the Darkul. The sale is made no secret of, and the fact that an offer was sent to the Redon, Protorians and Ka’Cezh before the deal was agreed to is made clear. (+50AP)

The Federal Security Bureau begins a thorough scan of all upper echelons of the government, R&D, the military, etc, for anything that might be off. They are searching for spies, infiltrators, clones, anything. They also do DNA checks. (3AP)

As long as the involved nations pay for resources needed, the Trade Federation begins to scan C-GAP territory using TAROT-M. The amount scanned would depend on how much the other nations would be willing to fund a year. The only compensation requested is that they fund the search of Federation territory, once theirs has been surveyed. (??? AP)

Specialists assigned to TAROT surveillance are doubled. Nothing is to approach within 4 sectors of the Trade Federation without them knowing it. (0AP)

After the conflict in Hephaestus space, the Trade Federation approaches the Grgl, offering a joint Simulation & combat exercise training program for their fighters & bombers, to compensate for the discrepancies when facing the Ar’Gakari. (0AP)

An tightbeam quantum message is sent to the Keerim, stating that, while their territory if technically in the newly created C-GAP Zone of Influence, the C-GAP wishes no hostilities or contact between the two groups.  (0AP)

The Norlandic Rout of 1660

The crow soars through a sky roiling with black smoke, blind to the bloodshed below. For what is there to see but another monument to the self destructive madness of mankind?

Ordered by the raw throat of a man choking on the cloying smog of war, a flight of arrows scales the stairway to the heavens. Barbed tips glint red in a sky riddled with clouds of ash, their sharp edges as cruel as the heathens for which they are meant. The crow jerks away, but even it cannot escape the brutality unfolding below. With a squak torn from its lungs by the weight of an arrow punching through its frail body, it tumbles down into the muddled mess of men below, anchored to the ground by their heavy armor.

As the creature falls, so do a hundred arrows, cleaving through the tender flesh of the Norlandic levies, shredding their poorly woven gambesons like leaves punched through by hail. Screams erupt amongst their uneven ranks as even now, their weakest men begin to falter. The peasants can do nothing when the might of the Renatian legions marches across the battlefield, their ironshod boots drumming a beat on the ground more terrifying than any war drum.

At their front, leading upon tall steeds clad brightly in glittering steel and the colors of their bloodline ride the most revered Aurelius and Antonius, their lances like darts of divine power moulded by the hands of GOD, to be driven into the chests of those heathens who would oppose them. And lead they did, with shouts of encouragement to their men and followed by their loyal captains and lords, they crashed into the feeble enemy.

One could write pages about the tactics that had been elaborated by the greatest minds of the Kingdom in the sleepless nights that preceded the battle. The smoke-filled tents, light by candles at the darkest hours of the night, where Aurelius paced back and forth before a map, his best men at his side, eyes red with fatigue, yet gleaming with the all powerful light of faith and conviction.

But in truth, one would speak only of ideas then, great ideas, but ideas nonetheless. The truth of the battlefield can only be recounted in terms of brutality and slaughter.

As the legions of men in gleaming black armor advanced behind the cavalry, their pikes and halberds pointed down like thickets of monolithic bramble promising nothing but death, the Norlanders broke.

Shattered by the devastating attacks spearheaded by the elite and faced with the uncompromising façade of an ELITE fighting force, their minds sought an alternative, and found it in flight. Flight back to their homes and hovels, their meagre existence spent cracking stones and scrabbling at a dry and hostile land for the smallest harvest of grain. A flight ended all to soon for most, as with great shouts, the cavalry lept into the fray once more, swords sprinkling lush fields with a fertile rain of blood. The levies fled in a confused mass, their unprotected backs so easily carved by steel that had been forged with the purpose of being tested against true men. But such a test would have to wait, for as they fleed, they fell and died in droves.

The Kingdom had won again, and at the tip of the spear, the King who had brought them glory once again.

Ave to the King, Praise be to GOD, and may every man glory in the splendor of our great nation.

A series of paintings of the event are added to the tome.

On the City of Senntisten [Volume I]

An essay on the issues that plague the city planning of our beloved Capital.

By Ferdinand Albert Stafyr, 1659

The sun rises over the city, 1659

The City of Senntisten is a glorious sight to the weary man. After clambering over great bridges and trudging through dancing fields of heavy, golden wheat, a man seeks only the comfort of his own kind. The feeling of a large mug of ale between his hands, fresh from breweries of the Stafyrs, or the bitter bite of a good Carrion Black, so generously poured in the smoke-filled Crooning Crow. Good company and the security of tall walls.

All these are given to mankind by our glorious Capital. Yet, behind this façade of idyllic perfection projected upon the land like the shadows of our massive ramparts cast by the setting sun, lies a problem that cripples what should be only quietude and harmony. The city’s streets are empty. They meander by a hundred houses empty of all but cobwebs and rats.

This issue did not arise in one day, nor will it disappear in one week. But it is an issue that must be recognized and addressed by men willing to put their hearts into their work. It must not be compromised by those who grasp eagerly at the meagerest morsel of power in the hope of climbing a ladder they were never destined to set foot on.

An abandonned street, as represented by an artist, 1659

While the vastness of Senntisten is itself a monument to the ingenuity and determination of man, this great act does little to serve the kingdom and its people. For what are people to do with moldering streets, in which cracked flagstones let nature reclaim what was once its own. When our houses house more vermin than the people they were nobly built to welcome, questions must arise within the minds of all men.

The Adamantine Cathedral, most glorious of edifices erected in the name of the one and only GOD stands like a pillar of faith and piety. A proud monument to the zealous faith of our people. Proud, yet barren of folk. Rarely does one see pious peasants kneeling before the glory of GOD, or the common folk repenting for their crimes in the confessionals. A sad situation with no easy solution.

An attempt at capturing the splendor of the Admantine Cathedral, 1659
 

Ease has never been the way of progress though, and those who would blame the shortcomings of our own people upon the lesser races debase themselves. To not accept when one stumbles is to walk blind. Elves scrabble at the foundations of our mighty nation, their nails breaking upon the stone of our faith and conviction. A nuisance, much like the rats that wander our empty halls.

But true failure comes from the man who cannot comprehend the threats of our own ego and pride. The size of our city is not a reflection of our greatness, for GOD is the source of all wonder and glory, and only through our faith to the one and only can greatness be found.

Signed,

Ferdinand Albert Stafyr

-In volume II, we will discuss the solutions that can bring about the change necessary for the revitalization of our city.-

Name: Ferdinand Albert Stafyr

Gender: Male

Age: 59

Race: Human, Heartlander

Religion: Cannonist

Nationality: Renatian

Property owned (provide the address): Stafyr Estate, left of the main gates.

Prior Experience: Administrator and architect of the Stafyr Estate.

The Trade Federation

Actions

AP: 59

Project Evil Twin continues unabated. (25AP) (135 invested)

Ruthless Monkey continues to climb trees, fall down and try again. (20AP) (75 invested)

An extensive amount of research is put into understanding Cynn and Chupan'Mo traditions, ways of life, food, cultures, anything and everything that can be learned. And all of it is taught to the diplomatic corps on the Citadel. Everything that can make the two species feel at ease, comfortable and welcome. (4AP)

A project to modernize it and achieve the highest standards of living that they can realistically achieve with these resources. It is designed to be highly cosmopolitan. Many new sections are added and designed as living areas, shopping, etc. All in all, the goal is to turn Citadel into a true city in space. (5AP)

Tri-phase shielding, heavier itoron armor, hangars, point-defense, railguns of all shapes and sizes, swarm missile pods, mine deployers, repair stations, emergency access tunnels. All sorts of defences are set up on Citadel, learning from the mistakes of Nexus. This time, the station will not fall. (5AP) (9AP invested)

A popular notice is spread through friendly territories and refugee heavy zones stating that GTC-2 welcomes refugees as long as they can pass a simple application that proves them capable of work, and can be found a job in the nearby TF holdings. They must also go through some rigorous administrative processes to avoid war criminals, terrorists, etc. (0AP)

A new sector is colonized. (0AP)

TAROT-M begins to scan for mineral deposits in large swaths of unclaimed territory around GTC-2. (0AP)

The Trade Federation

Tony Blaze III stared out of his towering bay windows, and out into the city beyond. Or below, perhaps. Indeed, the Central Administrative Complex had lost none of its size, only its grandeur. Even then, the gigantic building still shone in the rising sun like a mountain crafted of jewels, and glimmering little shuttles shot from within its belly and out into the streets that flowed from its great gates likes the veins of the city itself. But it had lost something, a spirit that had once animated it like a great dragon sitting upon its riches.

The riches were gone, and with it, the dragon rested, hopeless and forlorn. Tony Blaze III leaned against the window and stared high up into the sky, his irregular breath rattling against the thick glass windows, as if trying to break free from the confines of his vast office. High above and below, clouds hung thick, like great patches of dread lingering upon the inhabitants of the once thriving trade world. They replaced the hordes of cargo ships and freighters that had once teemed through the sky like a million ants, furiously working towards the most profitable deal they could find.

Now only a few brave souls dared to cross through the wartorn South, or skip along the borders of the Darkul occupation zones. Even further beyond that, the plague of war had begun to spread its filthy hands across every nation in the galaxy, infecting them with the maddening lust for destruction and blood.

With a frustrated grunt, Tony slammed his arm against the window, the Kyber Kore alloys slamming into the thick glass with a solid thud. He turned away from the sight and looked into his office. It had devolved from the once clean, luxurious place had had made it upon its creation. The pleasures of the flesh had been stripped from him with the same explosion that had flayed half his body of its flesh. Drugs could now only subside the eternal pain that gnawed at his body, and women did nothing but turn his lust into frustrated anger.

He sat down in front of his desk and leaned back, staring at the screen. “Bring up GTC-2, profit expectations, year 2150,” he hissed, the mechanical components within his throat clicking most horrendously.

The VI complied, bringing up a series of charts, projections and reports. “Summarize,” he growled. A single chart remained, with an upward trend.

Somewhere up there, high in space, Nexus was once again taking shape, but Miranda had outstripped him. By a large margin. She had taken the loss of Nexus and like the vulture she was, capitalized upon it. GTC-1 was a dying colony. Where profit could not be made, a man of the Federation would not linger, and they now left in droves for the flourishing east, where only the minor threat of a Keerim attack could ever hope to endanger them.

All he could do was wait. Wait, for his new project to take off, wait for the Darkul resistance to crumble. Wait for luck to turn the tides once more. His father had disappeared in an explosion of scandals, and if Tony had to lose his spot, he would go down no differently…

Actions

68 AP

Starting Bonus: 4

Colonies: 4

From Population: 2

From Business: 2 => 3

Bridge of North & South: 3

Free Port of the North: 2

Neutrality: 3

Trade: 22

Prosperity: 22

National Idea: 3AP

Supersense Gaming: 1 (This turn only)

 

Project Evil Twin continues, brooding in the shadows of a thick jungle. (20AP) (110AP invested)

Project Ruthless Monkey continues, darting through the leafy trees. (20AP) (55AP invested)

Supersense Gaming officially releases all of its first leading titles. It now also released DLC’s for its war games specifically tailored to the Redons, among various other new games and DLC’s including a modernized version of DOTA2 that would be attractive to the current public.

Supersense also begins to work heavily upon their ultra-realistic military simulation game, Arma VI. They keep fine tailoring it to perfect the experience and increase realism. Truly, it seems that they wish to turn it into a replica of real combat. They even contract military personnel to aid them with it. (10AP) (20AP invested) (60AP business total)

One colony ship begins assembly in the Federation shipyards. (3AP)

The all new B4-X8 Sandstorm is put into production, along with the Harpie Mk I fighter. 100 bombers for 200 fighters. (3AP)

Another SL2 shipyard is commissioned in GTC-2 space. (6AP)

Large Orbital Defence Cannons are installed on the trade station of Citadel in GTC-2, as much as 4 billion Human Standard Pounds can afford. As well as improved shielding, point defense and a plethora of other defensive systems. (4AP)

The Cynn & Chupan’Mo are contacted by Trade Federation representatives, inviting them to install embassies upon Citadel, and come discuss business possibilities with the Federation. (0AP)

The B4-M3 Firestorm’s in the Federation navy are upgraded to the newer, more powerful variant, the B4-X8 Sandstorm bomber. (0AP)

The Trade Federation

The air here smelled of gas, burning metal and old rubber. Far away from here, distant clanks and clangs, the bee-like whine of electric saws and the trembling thunder of enormous, mechanical hammers falling down upon pliable molten steel echoed through the vast halls of metal and stone. She stood upon a platform, jutting out into the void like a singular planet, orbited by stars filled with destructive power and crafted out of itoron and xylorite.

She clasped her hands and closed her eyes, exhaling slowly, then breathing back in once more, the smells and sensations rushing back like a wave of nostalgia so powerful it nearly knocked her over. She would no longer need to return to these hallowed halls, once she was reassigned. Her ship would no longer pierce the atmosphere and land amongst the many shuttles and speeders that darted to and fro through the atmosphere of London Prime. These smells has followed her all her life, present from her birth in the bowels of a colony ship, cast into the void on a coin-flip, to her education upon that same, dying vessel and all the way until now. Student, cadet, officer, captain. Admiral. A small smile broke across her face and she opened her eyes once more.

“You’ve brought me far old lady, but it’s time to say goodbye.” She paused before reaching out, her fingers brushing against the hulking being before her, stroking the coarse and cold itoron shell that encased it. Scars littered the old creature, burns and punctures endured during the battle for the Nexus, where she had ducked and weaved like a young ship, dodging lasers and fighters with the swiftness of a ballerina. But she was old, and the battle had strained her, damaged her deep within her core. The FFS North Sea was to be decommissioned, the ship Lily had captained since she had gained her lapels. “I have a model of you, in my new quarters. I don’t think the Fulton will be jealous, she’ll understand.”

“Admiral?” called a voice from behind her, and she recoiled her hand like a snake, spinning around and coughing into her curled fist. Heat flooded into her cheeks and she fought off the urge to blush.

“What is it?” she snapped, clasping her hands behind her back and staring down the diminutive cadet. He looked back at her with wide blue eyes, intimidation clear within them.

“High Command will be wanting to speak with you in an hour, I was ordered to escort you to the C.A.C.”

Lily turned away and glanced back at her old ship, her old home. The North Sea hadn’t changed much over the years. A few upgrades, a few repairs, but it was the same silhouette she had fallen in love with nearly a decade ago. She smiled again and shook her head. Times changes, and the Fulton’s Revenge now waited for her, high in orbit. “Then we should not keep them waiting,” she said sternly, her lips twitching as the cadet nodded fervently and hurried down the hallway, and towards the future.

Actions

145 AP

In the early months of 2149, famous game designer in the Trade Federation, Jeff Kappalan announces the foundation of Supersense, a new Gaming company targeted at all species and all nations. It seems as if they have had a few ideas in the pot for a while now, as in the following months they begin pouring out hype trailers, gameplay cutscenes, interviews and a variety of other adverts for a series of new games they will be producing.

It is whispered within the Trade Federation that Supersense is owned by a cartel of higher companies, but their inner affairs are kept quite secret. Suffice to say, the ressources are pouring in, and they are vast. Advertising and production become a major point of importance in this flourishing company, and should the games near completion this year, pre-orders are even put up! (10AP) (50AP into business total)

A list of the upcoming games can be found on their website.

In cooperation with LSAA, the Trade Federation begins work on the long-expected upgrade to the B4-M3, the B4-X8 ‘Sandstorm’. (5AP) (20 AP previously invested)

More trade, always more trade! With the faltering trade in the West and war tearing through the galaxy, the Trade Federation does not let itself be discouraged. One more trade stations will be added to the ever growing GTC-2, turning a massive station into a truly monolithic one! Another is built above GTC-1, a small rekindling of the massive station of Nexus. Enough to handle the last dregs of trade still meandering through a now dangerous sector of space. (20AP for T6!)

200 B4-M3 bombers and 400 Harpie Mk I. fighters are commissioned this year. (6AP)

Ruthless monkeys jump around the jungle, as Project Ruthless Monkey continues… (10AP) (35 AP invested)

Project Evil Twin. (90 AP)

Two colony ships settle near GTC-2 on the most optimal planets possible. The population dwindles in GTC-1. Lacking much of its trade routes, and for the safety of the people, the government is offering bonuses to those willing to move to GTC-2. Approximately 100.000 more have filtered over over the past year. (400.000 GTC-2, 330.000 GTC-1) (0AP)

Two frigates are built in the shipyards above London Prime. (4AP)

The Slavic Federation is contacted for talks. (0AP)

The Trade Federation attempts to plot a new route for GTC-2 towards the south, to circumvent the dangerous Keerim territories to their south and shift trade away from the Ceri and towards them. (0AP)

The Trade Federation

The FFS North Sea moved like a dancer in a crowd of drunkards. Its sleek white hull flashed like a beam of sunlight amidst the hulking carcasses of a dozen dead monstrosities. A bolt of energy, sickly green in hue and nearly as wide as the ship itself flashed above its bridge, missing by a mere dozen meters. The lance continued until it smashed into a faraway ship, the impact roiling through space and sending dozens of pieces of molten slag flitting through the void, set on a course for infinity.

“Stay away from their line guns,” snapped Captain Eldrige, standing amongst a flurry of activity upon the bridge. She glanced around her at the crew quickly, before refocusing her attention upon the large holographic display in front of her. Her people were well trained, drilled when she could and trained in simulators when the upper echelons of the government said they could 'afford' it. It was not enough, but they were holding up better than she had expected. She snorted, Admiral Chance Tike had not deemed it necessary to drill his crew as much as she and now he was a million atoms, floating freely through space.

“Focus fire on the cruiser, ID 12.” She tapped the holoboard, highlighting said ship. Something had hit it full on, and large chunks of armor and hull were floating away from the cruiser as it listed heavily to the side, its engines and thrusters unaligned and powering it down, down, towards the planet below. “Move to align and fire into the breach. Focus on the engine block, don’t let it get close to the planet.” Her voice stayed cool, but inside, Eldrige felt as if a nervous current of electricity was bouncing through her system ad infinitum. This was a pitched battle of the likes that she had never experienced before. 

The North Sea slid along the still burning ruins of a Replicant cruiser, gigantic cables whipping out of the broken hull and smacking the hull, sparks flying upon contact. For a moment, the room went dark. A cold sweat broke down Lily’s back as she clutched the railing around the holoboard tightly. It was a calculated risk by the pilot, as smart as it was stupid. Concealing yourself from enemy fire didn’t count for anything if it disabled you. She would have words with him, if they survived.

Then, the ship broke away from the wreck and burst forth, skimming under a quartet of Ymorian fighters chasing down a replicant bot. A cloud of debris blew away from in front of the North Sea with the shock of a nearby explosion and suddenly, the unaligned cruiser was in front of them. Almost immediately, a burst of green energy shot alongside the hull, searing the North Sea’s armor and Lily flinched. “Align and fire, all guns!” she commanded, her hands tightening around the Bridge's railing.

Another laser barely avoided their shields as the pilot dipped the ship a fraction. Maybe she wouldn’t have to dress him down that bad, she thought as the laser shot past them and lost itself within the vicious melee behind them. “Firing.” said one of the officers, before pressing a button.

The vessel shook as every available railgun unloaded upon the crippled ship. For an instant, Lily held her breath. Then, a flash of light, a blooming flower of fire, a ripple shaking the deck beneath her and the wounded cruiser exploded, its final cry of agony taking the shape of a last volley of weaponfire, shooting far off to their right and into the void, escorting its crew to whichever hell they were destined for.

Lily let out a shaky breath and flicked an imaginary speck of dust from her shoulder, straightening herself and wiping the worried look from her face. “Well done, sailors,” she said as a few smiles and woops went through the bridge. “No time for celebration, get us back into the fight, Pilot!”

———

For a mere moment, Lily relived the birth of the Universe. A brilliant flash of light, more powerful than a thousand nuclear missiles flashed in front of her, her eyes spared only by the grace of the FFS North Sea’s dense, dark transparisteel portholes. All around her, color morphed to darkness as shadows flashed through the ship, and as if paralyze in time, everything and everyone stood still. Nexus cracked, deep within its core the light grew stronger and stronger, until its titanic bones snapped like so many twigs blown away by a cosmic wind. Metal splintered and exploded outwards with all the violence of an angry god, sending shards of steel the size of battleships careening through space.

“Brace!” yelled Lily, knowing all too well what was to come. She ducked instinctively and grabbed onto her command chair, her fingers bone-white against the dark wood.

A shockwave followed the sharpnel like a deadly twin, evaporating its brother with a swift strike of immeasurable heat. Nexus glowed so bright Lily thought her eyes might burn away into embers, but she couldn’t tear them away from the ghastly sight, as the symbol of the Federation’s might disappeared before her eyes in an ever-expanding orb of energy.

The FFS North Sea’s hull smoked and steamed and turned cherry red as the station finally disappeared within the confines of its own fires and the terrible stream of destruction smacked into the assembled fleet, no more than a hundred kilometers away. Lily watched with squinted eyes as a small corvette received the brunt of the explosion. The frail ship looked like an ant beneath a boot as it flipped over with the impact and almost immediately snapped in half, the shattered corpse expelling its crew like so many vermin, into space.

Lily had lived through a few skirmishes with belligerent mercenaries or pirates before, and survived a terrible battle above the burning Nexus but a few moments ago. Her ship had taken hits, shuddered as its shields and armor struggled to hold back the impact of violent green energy. The explosion was like nothing before. It nearly blew away her ship, sending it reeling through space with alerts blaring and a failing reactor.

“Adjust course, power emergency reactor! Get engineering to shut down the main!” she yelled, clinging to her seat as the small frigate’s tortured hull screeched in protest, metal crying out in agony as it twisted and bent beneath the strain. She reached out and grabbed a private as he nearly fell to the ground, a gash on his forehead. “Get to Doctor Chelsy, make sure she’s ready for wounded and get treated!” she yelled over the hubbub of orders and cries of pain.

It took five minutes for the red lights to stabilize and the bridge to regain some semblance of quietude as the ship re-aligned and engines powered back up once again. Lily crawled out of her chair and pushed herself against the railing, standing as straight as she could while nursing a growing bruise on her thigh.

“Captain,” said the comms officer, slowly turning towards her with a stricken look. “Admiral Chance Tate is reported as dead by High Command.”

Lily leaned back and kept her lips in a tight line as she stared around the bridge. Mostly human crew, aliens were still not fully implemented into the Navy. Only a few cevelli scattered around. They all looked scared, she could feel the heavy weight of tension upon her shoulders as it sank down across the room, a mantle of fear for her crew. She cleared her throat and nodded. “Then I am assuming command of the fleet.” Or what's left of it, she thought, barely holding back a grimace. “Round up the remaining ships and order the Ymorians to check for survivors, pods and Replicants. I must speak to Commander Aldaar.”

Actions

41AP

The Trade Federation, led by the decision of council member Miranda Thresh, decides to expand the trade capacity of GTC-2, in the ‘east’ of the galaxy. It takes the name of Citadel. With the contributions of the FEZ, Citadel already outsizes Nexus by a significant amount, and has the capacity to ferry and manage massive amounts of trade. (20AP) ((T3 Trade Station. (T6 with FEZ combined.))

Project Ruthless Monkey continues in the jungle. (5AP) (25AP invested)

Two colony ships are produced this year, powering out of their drydocks with dreams of grandeur. (6AP)

With the FINALIZATION of TAROT-M, the Trade Federation puts it to use in both GTC-1 and GTC-2, running three rotations of scans for three mysterious things…(5AP) (Skype)

The industrial sectors of GTC-1 preemptively produce their first batch of fighters and bombers for the nations new carrier. The powerful B4-M3 bomber is escorted by the top of the line Harpie Mk I. fighter. (4AP) (100 bombers / 300 fighters)

The damage incured by the TAROT installation on GTC-1 is repaired. (1AP)

Commander Aldaar is contacted by Admiral Lily Eldrige. She requests permission to visit the Saryn world of their choice with a small delegation, to discuss the present issues. They bring with them all the data of the Battle for Nexus, and the garbled data left behind by the mysterious ship... (0AP)

A sincere apology is sent to every family that lost someone in the Battle above London Prime. Be they from the Trade Federation or not. A small sum is sent to the families of the dead, and the bodies that can be found are retrieved from space and sent to their families. (0AP)

Trade offers are sent to the Redon Imperium, the Confederation of Xaplonius and the Tassaran Republic. (0AP)

The Zyrka are asked something of interest... (0AP) (Skype)

The Trade Federation sends some of its experts from the MENDICANT project to Andorra. Their goal is to bring all of their knowledge to bear on Project EVE and hopefully increase the effectiveness of investments. (0AP)

With the growing threat of the Darkul, the destruction of Nexus and the expansion of GTC-2, a significant amount of employees are re-assigned to the east, along with their families. (0AP)