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Old Fart
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  1. Onwards [Sci-Fi Nation FRP - RP]

    "There's a Grgl in my Office?!" The NEW hit sitcom from Channel 555! “Class” was rarely the first word someone would associate with Hephaestus Enterprises. Despite its wealth and success, Hephaestus remained committed to serving primarily regular people. They were always the biggest market, after all. Who didn’t love an affordable product anyway? This disconnect from class is what made Steven Penrith’s office so strange in comparison to the rest of Hephaestus. The entirety of it was pure, unadulterated luxury. A polished, hardwood floor stretched from door to window was punctuated by neatly placed flowery rugs. Glass cases held artefacts of obscene worth, from Firstborn servitors to suits of medieval armour. A classic, red-brick fireplace crackled with dancing flames (though where the smoke went was anyone’s guess). At the far end of the room was a heavy, mahogany desk that was framed exquisitely by an expansive window. A mere twenty years ago, all a person could see from that window was the blasted, rocky landscape of Hades. Now it was covered by habi-domes, factories, movie theatres, casinos, and any other service or industry that could turn a credit. The morass of business shifted like sand daily—no skyline was the same as the night before. The serenity of the space was cut short, as the doors of a gilded elevator eased open, and two figures sauntered in. The first individual was CEO Steven Penrith, who had the gormless smile and glazed eyes of a man who was politely listening to a very boring person. The other was Wilfred Cooper, of Cooper & Sons Droid Foundries. Wilfred had invited himself up to Steven’s office, and Steven has humouring him—Cooper & Sons had recently absorbed and overtaken an Auroran automaton manufacturer, and had earned itself a place on the Hephaestus executive board as a result. Like all new arrivals to the Board, he had begun networking immediately. “The way I see it Mr Penrith, the Corporation could use some heavier vehicles for its security forces! With wars being fought among every one of our trading partners, a few more diverse assets in our arsenal wouldn’t hurt, right?” Wilfred Cooper took a moment to wipe the sweat from his balding head. The nervous, wiry man always seemed to drip with it whenever he was excited. He also did it on every other occasion. “I-it just so h-happens that I have one! In the experimental stages, of course, but we have the designs! With only a little investment-“ Steven cut Wilfred off with a well-practiced jovial laugh. “Bring it to the Board then, Wilfred my old mate! We’ll have a chin-wag about the whole thing, yeah? We’ll talk later over lunch some time. Give you a ring in a week or two, maybe? Yeah great! See you then, pal!” “B-but Mr Penrith you don’t know my nu-“ ”I’ll see you later, Cooper!” Steven waved Cooper away, and the stuttering industrialist awkwardly walked back into the elevator with a morose expression. Finally easing into his armchair, Steven sighed heavily. For nearly ten years he’d felt younger than ever, but now his body was starting to remember how old it was. It wasn’t 2108 anymore, that was for sure. He reached towards a drawer to retrieve a cigar, and was surprised to feel a large, warm, round shape in the place an empty space ought to be. This struck him as highly unusual—that space was only ever occupied by his secretary/wife Sally, but she was on Aphrodite taking in the sun. And he couldn’t recall having any other mistresses. Steven, after all, was a virtuous man. After a brief moment of thought, Steven looked down to the unusual object. It was a Grgl. It appeared to be wearing a tiny, Hephaestus-blue business suit that had been adapted to its physiology. It was silently standing with a data-pad covering its small face, and remaining perfectly still. Steven would have assumed it was a statue, if it didn’t occasionally shiver. Taking a moment to survey his office, he expected to see an employee nearby to explain why the Grgl was there. Aside from himself, the room was deserted. The situation was very perplexing. Steven leaned down until his face was at the grgl’s height, and grunted. “Oi.” The Grgl’s mandibles scrabbled briefly on the data-pad, and it let out a number of frightened chrips while it shivered. Steven pushed onward. “What are you doing, mate?” “I am attempting to mask my presence,” boomed a synthesised baritone. “I did not have enough time to hide.” “Why are you hiding?” said Steven. “I am feeling intimidated. You are intimidating. I am feeling very nervous.” The translator had a strange cadence, and structured sentences in an odd, fragmented manner. The Grgl beneath chirped nervously, as it peeked out from behind its pad. “Good. I’m pretty bloody intimidating, if I do say so myself.” Steven leaned back in his chair. “Why the hell are you in my office?” “I am currently your lead accountant.” The voice boomed, though it hardly matched the nervous, shuddering Grgl. “My name is Jimothy Sonjohn. I am here to discuss matters involving the dispensation of Corporate assets.” Steven blinked in surprise. “Where’s Jim?” “I am Jim. Jimothy Sonjohn.” Replied the Grgl. “No no, Jim Bean, mate.” “Mr Bean felt that he was overwhelmed by the current duties given to him. He has placed the accountancy department in my capable claws.” Jimothy seemed to perk up, with his chirps sounding cheery and light beneath his translator. “Oh.” Steven stated flatly. “Alright, I s’pose. So ah, what do you need to talk to me about?” Jimothy quickly skittered to the chair in front of the CEO’s vast desk, and tapped his mandibles across the surface of his data-pad. “Item one on my list—Executive Woollard asks what he can do with the excess of itoron currently stockpiled on Woolongong, Grand Ares, and Bill.” “Sell it,” stated Steven flatly, as he finally retrieves a cigar. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- An ad appears around the southern galaxy. It appears to be a typical Hephaestus advertisement, but instead of a peppy young salesman, a fat, ugly, and watery-eyed man stands in front of a massive pile of rocks. You can see him visibly breathe in as a cheerful tune begins to jingle in the background. “G’day! I’m Jason Woollard! And I have a problem!" He gestures behind himself (with significant effort) and the camera zooms out suddenly to reveal an enormous pile of rocks. “I’ve got so much itoron, BUT I JUST DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH IT!! Corporate heads have officially declared itoron (along with D3-Standard Microwave-Ovens and the Purgemaster Electric Toothbrush) to be a non-vital strategic resource, and I have TWENTY-FOUR-HUNDRED TONNES OF ITORON THAT ABSOLUTELY NEED TO GO!! Prices aren’t just slashed, they’re QUANTUM-CALCULATEDLY SCORCHED IN TWAIN WITH A XYLORITE-POWERED SHELF-CLEAVER HEAVY LASER-DRILL!!! A small plaque with the word “PRICES?!?!?!” is appropriately sliced in half with a laser, with obnoxious explosion decals surrounding it. WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?! HELL IF I KNOW, BUT IT’S SO DAMN CHEAP WHO CARES WHAT I SAY?!! A number of laughing, scantily-clad babes of varying species and sexes immediately start clambering onto the massive pile and rub themselves sensually with the minerals. YOU WANT RAW ITORON?! COME AND GET IT, YOU BLOODY RIPPER! YOU WANT IT SMELTED?! AW MATE, WE HAVE SO MUCH OF THAT YOU COULD FEED A STARVING PLANET ON IT FOR A YEAR!! ARE THESE ROCK-HORNY BABES BEHIND ME EVEN ATTRACTIVE?! I HAVE NO IDEA, BECAUSE I’VE BEEN STRUCK BLIND BY THE DAZZLING ARRAY OF DEALS AVAILABLE!! Jason immediately begins packing his coat full of Itoron bars and rocks, covering himself in dust, but earning exaggerated, sultry looks from the babes behind him. THERE'S SIMPLY NO TIME!! YOU NEED TO BUY BUY BUY!!!!! BEFORE STOCK RUNS OUT!!! SO GET YOURSELF DOWN TO CRAZY JAY’S DISCOUNT MINERAL EXCAVATION WAREHOUSE SALES BONANZA!! Each word is accompanied by the sound of an explosion SEE YOU THERE, MATE! “ The face of Jason Woollard leaves your vision, but your desperate urge to purchase cut-price heavy-metals increases by the second... ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Action Points 4AP by default, 20AP from trade, 6AP from population, 10AP from sectors, 3AP from business, 8AP from industry, 2AP from the Trade Federation, 1AP from cargo capacity, 50AP from Redon Imperium (One turn only), 6AP from Solar Ascendancy (One turn only). 3AP holdover from previous turn. Total = 113AP BONUSES:-Ravenous Industrialism: -5AP off industry investments, +25% manufacturing output. -National Idea, Peace: 1% extra growth on primary population. -The Sink Project. (-50AP, total of 60AP invested) -Further resources are piled into improving Corporate swarmer missiles. As an accompaniment to their eponymous laser-cannons, they needed to be as effective or better than their local competitors. (-10AP towards swarmer missiles, total of 50AP invested) -With the loss of the Thulean shipyard, the Corporation recognised the need to return to “old friends” for cost-effective warship construction. They would not be left wanting when a battle was upon them. (-24AP sent to Han Dominion for four light cruisers) -The Solar Ascendancy sends resources to Hephaestus in order to construct their Paladin Mechs, with which the Corporation complies (once equitable payment is received). (-5AP) -The exponential growth of industry leaves some corporate analysts wondering—in an emergency situation, just how many combat droids could the factories produce? Resources are allocated in order to judge the industrial output of Hephaestus Enterprises. (-11AP towards the construction of Tithonus II combat droids) -Due to administration failures in the previous year, an order for a colony ship was totally forgotten. In lieu of this, the Hades shipyard immediately begins construction in order to avoid total consumer lethargy. (-3AP for colony ship) -The advertising campaign for itoron plays in every friendly nation of the Southern galaxy. Though the ones featuring Jason Woollard are mercifully few, they all stress that there is 2400 tonnes of itoron up for grabs, and that prices are very negotiable. (-10AP for adverts.) -200 tonnes of itoron are shipped to the Edonians. Why? Uh... (-0AP) -Combat exercises and war-games are held in Corporate space. The fleet is needed in tip-top form in case of any hungry predator looking for an easy target. The Corporation releases a statement to surrounding nations before the exercises expressing that the manoeuvres are not intended as aggression or grand-standing. (-0AP)
  2. Onwards [Sci-Fi Nation FRP - RP]

    //Text_Missing//--Please contact administrator Action Points 4AP by default, 20AP from trade, 6AP from population, 10AP from sectors, 3AP from business, 6AP from industry, 2AP from the Trade Federation, 1AP from cargo capacity. 30AP from Redon Imperium as payment for armour (One turn only), 50AP from Redon Imperium as a down-payment for energy cells. (One turn only). Total = 132AP BONUSES: -Ravenous Industrialism: -5AP off industry investments, +25% manufacturing output. -National Idea, Peace: 1% extra growth on primary population. -Though the Redons had attacked a close friend and FEZ member, a contract for energy cells had been agreed to prior to the conflict. The Corporation could not break a contract once it had agreed to one, thus manufactured the 1,000,000 energy cells. The Board would inform the Redons during the delivery of the cells that the Corporation would not be exporting any military equipment to any state for the duration of the conflict. They send their sincere apologies, and hope the Redon Imperium would consider Hephaestus Enterprises for business deals in the future. (-50AP) -Tell me something, Czar. What makes you... tingle? You know what I mean? That is to say, what makes your heart flutter? Your hands shake in excitement? What act makes blood rush to your extremities in sheer ecstasy? Perhaps it would be too racy to write it in this forum. Would a lover whisper it into your ear in the dead of night--speak softly the secrets that haunt your most sensual dreams? Would they whisper... "Industrial Investment?" A manufacturer working for Hephaestus Enterprises would. (-40AP towards Industry) -Four destroyers are constructed in the Aurora shipyard. (-12AP) -Further improvements are made to the Swarmer missiles. (-10AP, total of 40AP invested) -The Sink Project. (-10AP) -Project: Peach (-5AP) -Another colony ship is chartered for construction and launch upon the next year. (-3AP, due to Oligarchy Bonus) -Hephaestus Enterprises officially severs trade links with the United States of Arcturus due to their total lack of contact. They will be re-established once the USA resumes contact with the Human Alliance. The Corporation strongly insists that the USA speak to its ally, the Han Dominion, so trade will no longer be interrupted. (-0AP)
  3. The Commonwealth of Ruhn In the windy southern mountains, the droning warble of a bugle echoed between the crags and cliffs of the rocky climes. A formation of clanking, jingling soldiers marched in unison down a wide, cobblestone road that weaved between the high peaks. The small unit was on a standard - albeit pointless - patrol along the stretch of the Vulture Highway; the long, winding road between Ruhn and Bruger. It was pointless in that there hadn't been a single bandit on the road since the Scalding of Charlmar. The Commonwealth had butchered every degenerate mob of rabble from East to West. At the head of the procession marched a captain, only discernible from the other troops by the red cloak he wore. His eyes were fixated on the dancing black shapes further down the road. They were unmistakably the vultures that the highway was named for. There were far fewer of them since the end of the Mountain Wars, but their presence always foreshadowed a corpse on the road. Sure enough, the unit stumbled upon a cart with squawking vultures scattering away from the carrion. As per their training, the soldiers unlimbered their axes and raised their shields. Most "civilised" countries used swords for their infantry, but swords required finesse. Any peasant could swing an axe, and in these mountains breaking shields was more important than a timely riposte or stab. With the crossbowmen behind the shield-bearing soldiers, they formed a circle around the cart while the captain surveyed the scene. He could tell it was a standard hillmen attack even with the vultures having their way with the corpses. The removal of the heads and mutilation of the genitals pointed clearly at that conclusion. The victims were a father and son, yet surprisingly no mother was present. She would probably have been taken for their "amusement," if she existed. Most likely she was dead by now anyway, so they needn't hurry in their investigation at least. One of the soldiers called him over to a trail of footprints and blood. Standard orders were to track malcontents and deliver lawful Commonwealth justice. The captain left ten men behind to deal with the remains of the man and the boy--it would be disrespectful to their spirits and ancestors to leave them there for the birds. The dour party, ninety men strong, moved off-road and followed the trail of the hillmen. The savages were poor at covering their tracks, and one of their party was bleeding badly. At around midday they found the mother. The hillmen had treated her poorly. Had her throat not been sliced to the bone, her other varied injuries would have seen her depart regardless. Perhaps she would have preferred death by then, judging by her other injuries. The captain made note of this as he tallied up their crimes; robbery, murder, dishonouring the righteous dead, and now this. Two men were left behind to deal with the woman's remains, and perform the ancestral rite. She would be honoured appropriately, buried, and then the two men would join the others back on the road. The remaining host continued following the trail. After hours of marching up and down steep slopes, they spotted smoke in the waning sunlight. A camp of forty hillmen, dressed in furs and tattered cloth. The majority of their men appeared to be old, or adolescent. The fathers of the boys must have been killed during the Scouring. The younger ones must have just touched manhood, thus the elders thought it best to teach them hillmen ways. Perhaps the elders took the young widows as wives to repopulate their tribe? The captain ordered his men to stay put, and out of sight. As darkness fell and the hillmen returned to their tents, the soldiers surrounded the camp. The sentries were quickly dispatched with a few, well-placed crossbow bolts. One elder had attempted to scream with two bolts in his lungs. It amused the troops, at the very least. The axe-wielding soldiers marched into the camp itself, and the slaughtering began in earnest. What few fuzz-chinned warriors awoke offered little resistance to trained killers. The tents were drenched in blood as axes landed on soft, unprotected bodies. Shrill screams echoed around the mountains as each man was dragged from his tent and methodically dismembered. The captain himself was not exempt from this work--he himself delivered the appropriate punishment to multiple tribesmen in the camp. Spotting a unspoiled tent, the captain tore down the fur that covered the entrance, and spotted two profligates cowering at the back. A mother and her young daughter. The woman looked up at captain with a face of fear, anger, and hatred. She babbled out in broken Ruhnnic begging for mercy, as she hugged her confused and sleepy daughter tightly. It was good that she drew the girl so close to her. One less swing to make. With a vile, violent crunch, the captain delivered Ruhn's law to the two dangerous criminals, and departed for the next tent. --------------------------------------------------------------- Stats. Economy: 6 Education: 4 Loyalty: 5 Population: 2,000,000 -------------------------------------------------------------- The Accounts. Total standing army: 20,000 soldiers, comprising of 12,000 halberdiers (120 units of polearms), 4000 axe-men (40 units of skirmishers), and 4000 crossbowmen (40 units of crossbows). Total Upkeep: 1000 gold. ---------------------------------------------------------------- Expenditure: 60,000 gold in starting cash. The drums of martial pride pound loudly in the squares, roads, and crags of Ruhn. The dead from the last war cry out for respect to be shown to their sacrifice. Any hot-blooded Ruhnnite with true patriotic fervour are called up to join the Commonwealth's newly remodelled army. Though in the past high ranks were reserved for Lords and their sons, now even a simple peasant could rise through the ranks on skill alone (though not to the point of being in command of a whole army). Parliament and the Lord Chancellor expect a large number of recruits, but they have a quota set for now. -12,000 gold towards medium armour for 120 units of polearms. -4000 gold towards medium armour for 40 units of skirmishers. -12,000 gold towards medium armour for 40 units of crossbows. -6000 gold towards the recruitment/training of 60 units of polearm troops and equipping them with medium armour. -10000 gold towards the recruitment/training of 100 units of skirmishers and equipping them with medium armour. -6000 gold towards the recruitment/training of 20 units of crossbow troops and equipping them with medium armour. The hammering and hissing of red-hot steel echo throughout all of Ruhn. Plenty of good blades, spear-heads, and bolts needed to be forged to re-equip the army. With new standards of armour came new costs, and the Parliament was interested in keeping supplies of materials high. A portion of gold was expended in order to expand the mining output in the mountains. -3000 gold towards investments into mines, and the development of the economy. -1000 gold towards upkeep. -6000 gold left in the treasury.
  4. Dawn of a New Era OOC (Fantasy Nation-builder RP)

    Commonwealth of Ruhn Government: An aristocratic parliamentary system with a Lord Chancellor overseeing executive decisions, while laws and general governance are debated and voted on within the parliament. Though the Lord Chancellor is a hereditary post, his chief advisers and top positions in his “cabinet” are selected from the parliament based on their skill. This all takes place in the Daruhn Fortress of Ruhn, which acts as the primary seat of government within the Commonwealth. History: The mountain ranges to the far south—the edge of civilisation--had always been a haven for exiles, miscreants, bandits, and uncivilised tribesmen. For more than a century since the Zalians took control, towns of refugees started popping up in the steep crags. Of course, with civilisation comes organisation, and with organisation comes war. Raiding was rampant, confederacies came and went, and blood poured down the mountains in thick, pungent rivers. New towns were founded and wiped out overnight. This was the case until the City of Ruhn consolidated itself. Its natural defensive position high on a mountain made taking the city via conventional means completely impossible. Thus, people flocked to it in a bid to escape the butchery outside. This not only bolstered the city’s numbers, but filled it to the brim with all manner of displaced specialists and warriors. All of whom were desperate for protection, and willing to swear allegiance to whomever could provide it. Eventually, Ruhn established itself as the strongest city in the mountains. Using its large population the “lord” of Ruhn, Hanz Bruger, built an army out of his new subjects. Hanz was a grim man, but had ambitions for greater control over the region. He secured his city’s safety by brutalising the surrounding mountain tribes and gangs and clearing the land of malcontents. Once he established the safety of the area, he exploited it by constructing mining operations to supply his smiths with high-grade iron for weapons and armour. With good steel, a campaign of expansion and consolidation began. Surrounding villages and their farmland were annexed and cowed into submission through draconian laws and punishments. He could not risk his new subjects getting rowdy and wasting their resources on uprisings. The troops were similarly pushed into absolute obedience through harsh discipline and vigorous training. Hanz would not have his soldiers fall into banditry, or ravage his new subjects without justification. Hence, his rule was punctuated by fear and a tight-fisted grip on control. A contender appeared that challenged the power of Ruhn some ten years into the campaign. Charlmar, a growing city to the West, was similarly safe and placed in a strategic position. Hanz quickly realised that conflict would be inevitable. The mountains were his, and he would not allow his new subjects to have another side to choose. He quickly gathered his troops, and marched into Charlmar’s territory. This surprised the disorganised lords of Charlmar, and it took them some time to decide a course of action. By the time the city’s forces were readied, the Ruhnnic army had reached their walls. With a series of simple feints and feigned retreats, Charlmar’s army was lured out. In a single, horrific battle the entire Charlmar force was obliterated. It was Pyrrhic victory for Ruhn however as most their troops were killed in the cunning manoeuvre. With barely ten thousand of their original number left, the remainder marched to the city gates, and demanded the inhabitants surrender. Fearful of a long siege, the leaders of Charlmar surrendered and allowed the Ruhnnites inside. This was their final mistake. There were far too many people in Charlmar and the surrounding countryside for the greatly reduced army to keep control of. Hanz could not risk Charlmar rising against him in the future, thus his course was clear. His soldiers locked the gates, and slew every man, woman, and child throughout the whole city. It was an orgy of bloodshed which Hanz oversaw with cold efficiency. Not bothering to bury the remains, the army returned to Ruhn and left the city to rot. They would return to retake the city some years later after the corpses had wasted away. Bones were easier to dispose of. With the mountains secured, his people obedient, and the only threat to his authority eliminated, Hanz began the building of basic infrastructure, organised food storage, and established standardised law. He made his interactions with the Zalian Empire as minimal as possible, and not once did he declare his little kingdom a sovereign state. Only when the Zalians disappeared did he announce the existence of Ruhn to the outside world. As he was nearing the end of his life, he came to the realisation that his son Johann was a poor choice for a successor. Rather than destabilise his nation with succession politics, he decentralised the autocratic governance into what he termed a “commonwealth.” He created new Lords from men of talent and ability, but mostly those who were loyal to Ruhn. Though his son was still given the leading position at his insistence, control over the commonwealth’s important institutions were divided among many individuals. His death signalled the beginning of the new nation—The Commonwealth of Ruhn. With the reoccupation of Charlmar (now known as Bruger) the mountains are entirely in Ruhn control. With this natural defence protecting them, the Ruhnnites looked down to the lowlands with greedy ambitions. Culture: “Grim” would be the best word to describe Ruhnnites. This is mostly due to hardship and brutal living, and the bloody mountain wars still fresh in most people’s memories. Though there are times of merriment and levity in Ruhn, most people consider excessive celebration to be improper and ridiculous. Ancestor-worship is the primary faith within the commonwealth, which always exemplifies acts of duty and gratitude from the living coupled with prayers and offerings to the departed. Though the services and prayers to the dead can differ drastically between towns and regions, it matters little as long as they are honoured appropriately. Economy: 6 A respectable economy has grown around the rich mines and smithies across the commonwealth’s mountainous territory. Massive mining operations established during the rule of Hanz continue to this day, with the government overseeing extraction and sales. Contracted traders transport the materials outside of Ruhn territories, but the mines and minerals themselves are all owned by parliament. The smithies of Ruhn and Bruger offer high quality arms and armour, but primarily sell to the state. Weapons are exported regularly, however. Other occupations include working on the terrace farms producing millet, barley, and wheat, or tending to the goat and sheep flocks in the valleys. Education: 4 Education is growing in Ruhn, but it’s still somewhat mediocre in comparison to it's neighbours. The most educated people in Ruhnnic society tend to be the lords and other well-to-do subjects. This is slowly changing with the establishment of the Commonwealth Academy of Natural Philosophy, but for the moment Ruhn is merely average. Size: 4 The Commonwealth stretches across the southern mountains, having claimed them during its draconian past. The capital, Ruhn, boasts the highest population while the growing city of Bruger takes second place. The rest of the population is spread between small towns and farming villages scattered throughout the crags. Military: 1 The recent mountain war saw most of the Ruhnnic army killed. It is slowly being rebuilt, but this will no doubt take a significant amount of time. What remains prides itself on unquestioning discipline and unshakable loyalty. The majority of the Commonwealth’s forces are halberdiers and pikeman, which take advantage of the narrow passes in the highlands. Few horses are available in the mountains, thus mounted combat is entirely disregarded. Army: (Two points) 12,000 Pikemen, 4000 axemen, 4000 swordsmen (skirmishers) Loyalty: 5 Ruhnnites love and fear their nation in equal measures. A strong sense of civic pride coupled with harsh punishments for miscreants leads to a cowed and obedient populace. Key Figure 1: Lord Chancellor Johann Bruger. 4/4/5 The son of Hanz Bruger, and the current leader of the Commonwealth. He is very eager to pull himself out of his father’s shadow, but often finds himself restricted by the wiles and schemes of parliament. Though he is somewhat collared, many in the parliament still gravely fear the son of Hanz, and refrain from upsetting him. Key Figure 2: Lord Protector Charles Kelrug. 5/5/5 The commander of the Rhunnic military forces, and close confidant of the deceased Hanz Bruger. Charles was present for most of Hanz’ wars, and rose through the ranks based on his skill and loyalty. His only interests are improving and growing the army of Ruhn, which he accomplishes aptly through his personal charisma and intelligence during parliament. Key Figure 3: Lord Treasurer Fitzroy Velburg. 1/1/2 Keeper of the state’s finances and taxation office. Almost a non-entity in parliament, Fitzroy is loathed as a stuttering, bean-counting bureaucrat. It’s a wonder how he managed to rise as high as he did despite his own complete lack of charm or imagination, but the commonwealth needed neither for his position. Secret dingly-doo: Luxembourg
  5. Onwards [Sci-Fi Nation FRP - RP]

    Is Weapon Manufacturing the Next Boom Industry? Read More at HEPH-NET! The bright, tropical sun shone down on the pearl-white sand of Aphrodite’s beaches. The resort planet’s profits had gone down during the last batch of wars, and business had slowed down with yet another looming on the horizon. This was tragic for the hotel chains, but for someone desiring a quiet beach getaway, this was perfectly fine. The soft breeze and rolling waves were only broken by the gurgling of the baby happily grasping the finger of CEO Steven Penrith. Steven doted on the child since he first laid eyes on her, and wheezed out laughter every time little Sinchil smiled. His wife and secretary, Sally, also seemed pleased, though she was up to her third glass of wine since her future daughter-in-law Aleya had arrived. Johnny stared silently out towards the ocean while his father and fiancé talked. “We met during the first semester, my Johnny and I,” chirped Aleya. Her Terraskolarian accent reminded Steve of the French, and he had even mistaken her for a Thulean at first. “When he arrived at the academy, I was volunteering in secretarial work. I believe he made a pass at me, but I’m unsure. His Firstborn was quite eclectic." She giggled at the memory. "Soon enough, he joined the academy himself, and started appearing in the same lessons as I. Such a wonderful coincidence, no?” Steven nodded, though his attention was still plainly on baby. “Well we got to talking and the rest,” she looked to John with a soft smile, “well, the rest you can probably guess.” “Yeah yeah. We can work out the logistics of the situation, sweetheart.” Another round of wheezing laughter struggled its way out of Steven’s mouth. “I never thought I’d live to see grand-kids.” “I was so surprised to learn that John was not Terraskolarian. Our species are oddly similar in appearance, aren’t they?” Aleya smiled warmly as she joined Steve by the cradle. “I always wanted to be a mother. I am not a talented psionic, but I joined the academy anyway since my family insisted. But John, he is so talented. He dazzled everyone with his abilities...” “Yeah, I’ll be sending him back to that academy after the wedding. He needs to finish that education of his, don’t you Johnny?” Steven’s gaze broke from Sinchil, and wafted to John. His eyes had a dangerous gleam. “He’s a very responsible young man, and he’ll be working very, very hard so he can come back to his new family. Won’t you, Johnny?” “He’s going back?” Aleya looked between Steven and John with a forlorn expression. “I had hoped he would spend more time w-“ “No no no, lovey! We never waste an investment. But don’t worry—we’ll make sure you and the little one here will be very comfortable. Hades is a little ah, grittier than Aphrodite, but you’ll be in the lap of luxury. Besides, we can’t really afford to hold a properly lavish wedding or pay for his next round of education until next year. Bloody war.” Aleya immediately perked up. “So it means John will be here until next year?” “That’s right, sweetie! And I’m sure he’ll be very pleased to spend every moment he can with you. Because my John is a responsible, gracious fiancé. Aren’t you, Johnny, mate?" Johnny Penrith said nothing. His mother poured herself another glass of wine. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The monolithic HCAC tower loomed over the chaotic sprawl of factories, warehouses and businesses that littered the surface of Hades. Far above the wafting smog and milling throngs of traders, industrialists, and entrepreneurs, a man with the most difficult job in the Corporation was preparing himself for a drunken bender. Jim Bean, lead negotiator, lead accountant, and administrator for the HERMES program poured himself a glass of synthetic brandy. He wouldn’t usually indulge in drinking during office hours, but frankly he was at the end of his tether. His bloodshot eyes and the bags beneath them spoke volumes of his workload. The scattered papers and data-pads around his previously pristine office seemed to reflect the frustration and stress his job brought. He just had to hold off from drunkenness for just a little longer—he just needed to smile his way through the interview and then inebriated oblivion awaited. A gentle tap on his door announced the arrival of his guest. Jim quickly flattened his hair, forced out his smile and cleared his throat. “Come on in, mate.” After a few moments of fiddling with the door-handle, a small, orb-like creature skittered into the room. Its small, grasping mandibles were a little short to reach most human-sized doors, and it waited awkwardly in the doorway. Jim immediately stood up, and cheerily gestured towards the chair in front of his desk. “Sit on down Mr Gnrry- ah, Gnrruyg-“ “Do not worry, Mr Bean.” Boomed a deep, synthesised voice from the Grgl. Jim could hear faint chirps and gurgles beneath the voice’s unnatural sound--clearly the Grgl was using an advanced translator. It was possibly one of the new models that could translate inflections and tone, judging from how the voice sounded somewhat sympathetic. He could have sworn he heard a similar voice in an old sci-fi movie he saw a while back. “I understand that the Xaplonius standard speech is terribly difficult for your species. I have already chosen a new name that reflects the culture of Hephaestus Enterprises, and my desire to integrate myself further into the Corporation. You may call me Jimothy Sonjohn.” “Right, so ah, Jimothy.” Jim took a moment to gather up some of the papers on his desk, if nothing else than appear to be in control of his surroundings. “I’ve been looking over your accomplishments during the last few years. McPhaestus was a dying franchise, and you turned it completely around. You’re the owner of almost half the family restaurants in corporate space, am I right?” Jimothy bounced in his seat with a flurry of excited chirps clearly audible over the translation. “I am very proud of my efforts. Furthermore, I am deeply pleased that you have noticed.” “Hard not to, Jimmy my friend. Look, here’s the rub of the situation.” Jim Bean could feel the muscles in his cheeks begin to wobble. After nearly 36 hours of ceaseless smiling, they were starting to get tired. He needed to end this chat quickly. “Another war is gearing up, we have a whole heap of money going to different places, and I’m running three departments. I’d like to offer you the position of lead accountant.” The tiny grgl’s black eyes blinked at him for a moment. It’s mandibles covered its chirping mouth in what was possibly shock. “I am surprised. I am also bewildered. I am also frightened. I am also happy. I am experiencing oscillating emotions,” the translator boomed. “Ha! That’s fantastic, Jimmy-my-man!” Jim Bean tossed a data-pad towards the Grgl, who caught it clumsily. “Right. There are all the figures. You start tomorrow!” “Tomorrow?” The grgl exclaimed with a tinge of confusion. “This amount of time is simply too short to accustom myself to my new duties and-” “Yeah it’s great, huh? Straight to the grindstone! Nose right up in the arse of Corporate issues! You’re one hell of a team-player, Sonjohn!” Jim Bean quickly began to bustle the confused Grgl out of his office. “Give me a call in a week and tell me how it’s going, baby! We’ll do lunch! Really hash out the knitty gritty! Ciao ciao!” He closed the door before the grgl could utter another word. As the confused Jimothy quickly pitter-pattered his way off to his own office, the former lead account proceeded to get extraordinarily drunk. It appeared he’d be having a long weekend. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Action Points 4AP by default, 20AP from trade, 6AP from population, 10AP from sectors, 3AP from business, 6AP from industry, 2AP from the Trade Federation, 1AP from cargo capacity. 30AP from Redon Imperium (One turn only) Total = 82AP BONUSES: -Ravenous Industrialism: -5AP off industry investments, +25% manufacturing output. -National Idea, Peace: 1% extra growth on primary population. -What's better than a large manufacturing order from a massive and wealthy empire? Nothing. There was nothing better for Hephaestus. The Redons wanted 200,000 combat suits? They would get 200,000 combat suits by the end of the year, and then some!. The fumes from the factories begin to churn as resources are poured in to the billowing maw of Corporate industry. (-30AP) -All things must come to an end, much like good deals with good friends. Two hulking dreadnoughts are commissioned from the Han shipyards. (-24AP) -Tired of listening to the Thuleans incessant cries, The Board invests a modest sum of resources to their shipyard. If nothing more than to keep their solicitors at bay for another year. (-10AP) -War is a scary thing, and thus more money would be invested into the zappy-zaps that keep the bad things away. (-6AP towards Laser Cannons. Total of 50AP invested) -The discrete services of Kyber Core were much appreciated. The corporation pays them their dues, and makes a note to send a Christmas card to them at the end of the year. (-4AP to Kyber Core) -The maiden voyage of the MOVING MEGA-MARTS (TM) Affordable, and the newly modified Trucker Bill are planned. A trip to the Confederation of Xalponius is chartered to gauge the interest from xeno nations. A modest advertising campaign is played on Grgl media outlets advertising products, prices, and a list of planets they would be visiting. Tickets to enter the MEGA-MARTS would be 75% off to celebrate the first official outing... (-3AP towards business) -On the subject of advertising, another campaign is set up by the visiting HERMES agents on New Siam. Hephaestus was looking for employees! Meet interesting people, see exotic aliens, see the even more exotic escort agencies! There was something for everyone at Hephaestus! Leaflets are distributed to the Siamese, boasting the job opportunities currently available in Corporate space. (-2AP towards business) -Begrudgingly, the Board orders the limited manufacturing of Ares III laser rifles. They would be delivered (For FREE, no less. Outrageous...) to the Edonians upon completion. (-1AP) -A pittance is sent to the Han Dominion, in order to make up the extra cost accrued by the construction of two dreadnoughts. (-1AP) -The Sink Project. (-1AP) (Mod plesh) -The Corporate fleet conducts manoeuvres and drills to keep them sharp. Being a big, blobby fleet, it expects to see some action soon. (-0AP)
  6. Onwards [Sci-Fi Nation FRP - RP]

    What YOU can make, we make 5-times Faster (And cheaper!)!! //Connecting_to: Heph-Net—Inter-Corporate Newsletter//... //Loading_Scripts//... //Loading_UI//... //Loading_DEALS!//... //WELCOME_USER: -- JimBOOMBABY//... //HEPH-NET: Inter-Corporate Newsletter\\ //--The Latest in Corporate News, and Employment Opportunities!--\\ Please Begin your OAP (Obligatory Advertisement Perusal) time, mandated by HEPH-NET user Contract sub-clause 88B1. VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV Hi, JimBOOMBABY! You are subscribed to adverts under tagged subjects: GUNS , SHOPPING , COFFEE , BLAGL_RESTERAUNT , BABES , ANTIQUING Tagged Subject: GUNS
  7. Small Map, One City (Map Idea)

    Hello. Mithradites here, former high elf dude, currently resident of the FRP section. I'm writing under a different profile because I can't remember the password to my old account. Okay, so a new map has come around again, and the usual arguments have sprung up. I.E. "The map's too big/small!" "Why is that race/guild getting a nation yet this race/guild isn't?!" "There's too many nations!" "Force others to unify!" etcetera etcetera etcetera. The yearly schlock, you know? What I don't get is why, despite the shrinking player-base and the generally tribal attitudes of the various player-groups, the server doesn't just stop with the pretension of nations entirely. I prefer expedience in my writing, so lets just get on with it. The Idea: Cut down the server to it's basic elements. You have a myriad of characters in a singular island-based city for some contrived reason and then let culture-shock and player interaction flow. As for why all the characters are there, I'm sure their players can come up with their own reasons. The lore team can fabricate a suitable story for the area, while the event team can perform events for a wider number of people. Add a little foresty and mountainy areas for ne'er-do-wells to hide in and you have a solid RP zone. Make the King of the city an admin so there's no divisive political nonsense (at least initially), and give the top government positions to newly-made characters specifically for this city. The Justification: -It will concentrate the playerbase in one area with an excuse to interact and not outright murder one-another. -It will make events available to a wider audience. -Most players gravitate towards a single city anyway in order to RP (Salvus, Sutica, etc), and this just cuts out the middleman. -It's a change of pace from the nation vs nation humdrum that permeates the server. It's something different. -The smaller sized map will free up the servers ram and things will run smoother (I think, anyway. I'm not a computer-man). -An orc/halfling romance will finally be possible. If you can't agree with this idea for your own benefit, could you at least agree with it in the name of love? That's the rub, folks. Vote on the poll or something, I guess. Blergh. XOXO
  8. Onwards [Sci-Fi Nation FRP - RP]

    Sign up for our Intern Program! Meet Exotic Sentients!! Several years ago, Hephaestus Enterprises purchased a system previously colonised by the PAR. It was a terribly silly place to colonise, really. Likely it had been a ploy to appeal to the Aurorans during the bidding over their colony. “See? We neighbour you too!” Excessive wastefulness was a hallmark of non-corporates. Though, being excessively wasteful was a hell of a lot of fun. “So the Krauts do the swap and leave, yeah? And my HERMES admin gal, Miranda I think her name was, figures that a good way to make the place feel ‘new and fresh’ would be to rename the planet. Guess what these grease-necked miners voted to name it?” Jim Bean, lead accountant and head of HERMES, sat in the chair opposite from Steven. His practised, toothy smile seemed to take up half of his rosy face. HERMES agents were known to smile for an unnaturally long duration, but no-one knew how they managed it. It was rumoured they had synthetic tendons planted in their cheeks, but Steve never saw any scars. “Bill! They named the planet Bill! I tell you, boss--that Aurora union really buggered our branding. Everyone wants to name their dumb planets after their dogs, or something. What next, a planet named after a cheese?” Steven looked down on the little mining colony below him. His air-car swooped over the pock-marked landscape where workers pushed their laser-drills into the itoron-rich earth. In the distance, freighters were carting off the ore to Grand Ares to be processed. The colony was still too small to bother doing it here. “Isn’t Jason supposed to be here?” Steven remarked, poorly masking the outright hostility in his voice. Jim was quick to notice this, and toned down his cheery attitude. “Mr Woolard is currently on Woolongong, sir. He’s preparing the payment to the Han-“ “Preparing the fuckin’ payment to the Han, hey?” Steven spat, his wrinkled face scrunched into a unpleasant scowl. “Buying up damn slaves-“ “Which you agreed to, sir.” “Which I was pushed into agreeing with, Jimbo. You may have convinced those dimwits on the Board, but you haven’t convinced me. This is a PR nightmare. Hephaestus Enterprises purchasing slaves?!” Steven rubbed his temples in exasperation. “My dad would be hounding you out of his office with a bullwhip.” Jim kept his gaze low and endured his employer’s fiery temper. “You listen here, Jimmy my old mate.” Steven glared at his accountant with silent fury. “If this hurts this Corporation’s PR, I swear to the Old Man, Christ and God himself that I will kick you so far down the ladder you’ll be sweeping streets on Aurora just to make ends meet. You understand? You live or die on this deal, Jim.” The rest of the flight was pretty awkward. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Action Points: -4AP by default, -16AP from trade (8AP x 2 due to federation), -5AP from population, -9AP from sectors, -3AP from business, -4AP from industry. Total = 41AP -[Redacted] (-4AP, total of 6AP invested) -Chiron Armaments, the manufacturer of the Ares series of laser weapons, feel that the brand is starting to lose its lustre. Despite several years of profitable ventures in the warship market, a fresh new rifle design is offered up. The Ares III: Not only will it have upgrades to power-efficiency and damage output, it would also include dual-firing modes. The simplicity of laser-weapons would theoretically make swapping crystal arrays equally simple. So why not have a laser-rifle that could be switched to a scatter-laser at the press of a button? (-6AP, total of 19AP invested in laser-weapons) -Yet more resources and technicians are sent to the Han Dominion for the construction of a battleship, and another heavy cruiser. (14AP) -Further improvements are scheduled for the Hephaestus laser-lances. There will never be an end to the improvement. They will be improved until there is nothing left to improve upon. (-10AP, total of 44AP invested) -The swarmer missiles are similarly improved alongside the lances. They are equally important for the corporate fleet, after all. (-5AP, total of 20AP invested) -Johnny is a very good young lad, and has high hopes for his psychic education. Though he succeeds in his studies, he feels unsatisfied with his seduction skills. He vows to double his efforts in macking on fly honeys. Money is sent to pay for his education, regardless of his peculiar tastes in extracurricular activities. (-1AP) -A new colony is founded on the planet "Parmesan." (-0AP) -Having established their section of GTC-East last year, the Corporation begins preliminary scans of former Corruptor territory around the outpost (within a 5 x 5 square) for salvage or other things of interest. (-0AP)
  9. Onwards [Sci-Fi Nation FRP - RP]

    Our Posts are Cost-efficient AND Fantastic Value!! As the last Ka’cezh warships finally departed Hephaestus space, the marketeers collectively sighed and gave their fondest farewells. “Come back any time!” –the phrase uttered the most by the businessmen, had a melancholy tone to it despite their best efforts to keep it cheerful. The capital obtained from the Ka’cezh was the stuff of legends, now. They were stories to regale young children with, along with the awe-inspiring fleets of warships that buried themselves in the blood and gore of the corruptor menace. The spiders were dead, but so were the profits. It was a sad end to a miserable war. And yet, despite the loss of money, despite the billions of lives spent, despite the hardships, the fear, and anxiety, they were finally safe. Every employee could sleep at night knowing that the monsters were slain. No matter who reigned in the galaxy, at least they weren’t mutating spider-men. In the words of the New Sephorites and the Maltese, ‘God be praised.’ Hephaestus ordered all synth-alcohol products to be marked down 50%, and proclaimed a yearly Corporate-wide celebration for the newly-named “Extinction Day;” the first (and probably only) sanctioned inter-corporate holiday. Streets filled with jubilant employees as spontaneous parties erupted in every city and Habi-dome. It was as if a horrible, heavy weight had been lifted off their shoulders. A new, pure galaxy awaited their children, and investment. But even in times of loss, there is profit to be made. The newest GTC outpost offered a number of less scrupulous individuals a unique opportunity. Tales from the Ka'cezh troopers revealed stories of dead civilisations buried in the masses of corruptor-corpses. A dead civilisation's trinkets would be worth a significant amount of money, and that was assuming there wouldn't be other things worth digging out of the dust and ash. Young Johnny begins his tertiary education. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- Action Points 4AP by default, 16AP from trade (8 x 2 from prosperity bonus), 5AP from population, 9AP from sectors, 3AP from business, 4AP from industry, 7AP from USA (Single payment) Total = 48AP -The Corporation once more rings the doorbell of the Grand Aurora Institute of Technology. The laser-lances utilised by the Hephaestus warships require further improvement. Until the weapons were on par with the rest of the galaxy the corporation would never be satisfied. (-9AP, total of 34AP invested) -While they were there, they also requested improvements on their swarmer-missiles. (-5AP, total of 15AP invested) -Further resources are sent to the Han Dominion for the construction of one battleship and one heavy cruiser for the Corporate fleet. (-14AP) -Resources, technicians, and guards are sent off with the Trade Federation colonisation vessels in order to construct a salvage/trade operation at the new GTC outpost. The dead civilisations would no doubt hold plunder worth taking, even after the Ka’cezh were finished looking over it. (-10AP towards GTC-East trade station) -A new order from the United States of Arcturus; shiploads of resources are set to corporate warehouses in order to construct a number of Tithonus Mk. II combat droids. They would be delivered to US space upon completion. (-6AP) -A colony ship is ordered to be constructed. (-3AP) -Johnny goes to college, baby! Now, some people get scholarships to go to Harvard, but some of us have to grind through community-college in order to apply. Johnny may be an uncouth businessman, but he isn't stupid. He'd work his hardest and reward himself by hitting on the attractive Da'nor students. (-1AP)
  10. Fix Defender Default

    I always find it kind of goofy that the same arguments are still used throughout the years. I can't remember how many times I've read the "if you want to PvP go to a PvP server" and the obvious counter to that statement. Neither of them are good, by the way. From what I've seen the annoyances are also the same, except with "nexus" spread into it here and there. The obvious conclusion is that player-communities clearly have differing ideas about what armour and weapons can do in RP. Probably due to both communities being generally hostile to one-another OOC and unwilling to engage. So the best way to fix RP fights is to standardise an understanding of what weapons and armours can do, and doing the same for magic. Though really, a stat-based rolling system would be far more logical. Dungeons and Dragons isn't free-form for a reason.
  11. Onwards [Sci-Fi Nation FRP - RP]

    25% of all Proceeds to to Survivors of Tragic Conflicts! The titanic battleship soared across the Hades skyline, attracting the looks of many curious bystanders planet-side. They had not been informed of any warships in the shipyard that year, but the vessel was unmistakably corporate. It's odd blue tint and - frankly - obtuse shape were hallmarks of Hephaestus shipwrights at this point. Those aboard the shipyards and trade-stations around Hades could see that the vessel wasn't yet entirely finished. Large holes dotted strategic portions of the ship which would undoubtedly hold vast arrays of laser-cannons, lances, and missiles. As it docked with the Hades shipyard, dozens of tiny vessels started zipping all around it like irritable flies. Each one carrying weapons to be attached. The largest weapons, nearing one-hundred metres in length, were carried by a duo of small freighters. Looking out a window of her headquarters aboard the frigate Jin Jin, Amanda Phelps rolled back-and-forth on her heels, gleefully gazing at her newest toy. This was exactly what she had been hoping for when she had joined the Corporate naval program. Big, scary battleships with huge, shooty guns! She could barely contain her school-girl giggles as a colossal frontal laser-lance was gently guided into it's respective place. It was starting to look like a real warship, now! The beautiful warship didn't have a name yet, but Amanda had been given the honour of assigning it one (since the Board couldn't be bothered). She was giddy with excitement, and she had the perfect title for it. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The industrial district of Hades was constructed in the 2120’s under the premise of supplying more products to neighbouring colonies and alien nations. By 2143, it covered large portions of the planet, save from a surprisingly popular tourist-trap. Hundreds of billowing smoke-stacks poured choking smog into the vacuum of the atmosphere-less Hades. Strange mists produced by the ceaseless manufacturing wafted around the planet’s surface nowadays, creating a dream-like fog among the structures and habi-domes that dotted the planet’s featureless landscape. Deep within these cavernous factories, a father was talking to his son about mental health. “Dad, c’mon! Don’t make me go! I don’t want to go! I have businesses to run! I’m opening another two locations this month and I have to be p-“ John was cut off sharply by his cantankerous father. The CEO was not in the mood to be argued with. “Bloody hell, Johnny! I’m trying to do what’s best for you! Next year I won’t have any ownership rights to force you anywhere, you know! You’re going to see a psionic about these dreams you keep having!” Turning to his son, Steven’s face was marked with equal parts concern and irritation, as any good father’s should be. Today the two of them weren’t surrounded by HERMES agents, Enforcers, or members of the Board. Instead, the pair was skulking around the endless gangways of the industrial district's factories. “Don’t get on my nerves today, my boy. Firstly, that turd of a Firstborn Margek couldn’t be bothered to answer my call. That’s gratitude for you. What a waste of an investment.” Steven gestured dramatically around himself and roared with exasperation. “And now, bloody TERMINATORS are popping out of the ground and throwing together STARSHIPS just outside our property! Can you even imagine just how stressed I am, sonny?” John looked at his feet and stuffed his hands into his pockets. With his teeth clenched hard, he nodded slowly with a reddening face. Steven paused and stood in place for a moment and rubbed his temples with a vocal sigh. “Look, John. Like I said, I want the best for you. These dreams of yours are going to kill your PR one day -- especially if you have an episode like that last one again. Screaming and shooting your bedroom’s upholstery is not a way to deal with frustrating night-terrors.” John grumbled beneath his breath, and held back a flurry of rude words. Steven continued to gesticulate around himself with considerable gusto. He became quite melodramatic during meetings when he had nothing to shoot at. “I don’t trust that psychological tripe, so you’re going to see a space-wizard. There’ll be fewer paparazzi that way. The wizards will poke around in your head a bit, snip out the offending dream, and that will be that.” Steven gave John one more hard glare. “Understood?” With a grunt and a scowl, John agreed with a silent nod. “Good.” Steven turned around and marched down the gangway, yelling back to John through the steam and industrial noise. “Don’t forget to say goodbye to your mum before you go!” John leaned on the railing and stared down at the factory floor beneath him. The employees hadn’t even noticed he was up here. The rapidly assembled microwaves were being shunted off to their destination almost faster than the employees could put them together them. They clearly had very little time to observe their surroundings. The young man felt almost like one of the microwaves being sent off for quality testing – getting all the dings and flaws smoothed out before being shipped off. His father may just be worrying about the future of the company, but there was a machine-like compulsion from the old man to make sure his son was in perfect shape. It was like he was running on a schedule, or something. John rested his head on the railing, and groaned. Did psionics even work the way his father thought they did? Did his father know anything outside of business? And so John trudged back home to pack his things, and kiss his mum goodbye. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Action Points 4AP by default, 12AP from trade (x2 from prosperity federation bonus), 4AP from 8th Crusade, 5AP from population, 9AP from sectors, 2AP from business, 3AP from industry. Total = 39AP -Giving a year’s grace-period for the unfortunate events of the Eadni conflict to blow over, the Board orders the biggest PR-boosting advertising campaign ever put into practice. The subject of the advertising is - of course - war. Having their products exported just about everywhere, Hephaestus caters to individual nations in order to pull on the appropriate heart-strings. They wanted to show that Hephaestus was a 'family' business, and that most of all they were beings with feelings too. For the next three years in: -Tassaran space, 25% of profits from sales will be donated to injured veterans in the Corruptor war. -Grgl space, 25% of profits from sales will be donated to injured veterans of the Corruptor war. -Galaron space, 25% of profits from sales will be donated towards rebuilding devastated planets. -Karass space, 25% of profits from sales will be donated towards rebuilding devastated planets. -In Lithruan space, 25% of sales will be donated towards the Lithruan’s war-effort against the Keerim. -In Protorian and Redon space, 25% of profits will be donated to injured veterans. Hephaestus understands that war is a dreadful thing, but sometimes it has to be done. What matters now is picking the pieces up, and putting the galaxy back together as best one can. A process that can now be aided by purchasing Hephaestus products. (-16AP) -When you go to bed, what do you dream about, Pok/Czar? Unicorns? A well-cooked breakfast? A plethora of scantily-clad babes? No doubt you see plenty of fantastical things! Do you know what a Hephaestus miner dreams about? Mining. They love mining so much they may as well be dwarfs. Sometimes they have to get their wives/husbands to dress up like minerals just to get them randy enough for bedroom antics. Holy ****. They NEED that itoron, bro. They need to extract it DEEP from the QUIVERING mineshafts in THICK veins of minerals that dot the many worlds of Hephaestus. More mines are what they need on their itoron worlds. (-10AP) -With the Corruptor war winding up, Hephaestus deems it necessary to invest further into their economic presence. A new upgrade to the trade-station over Hades is ordered. (-10AP) -[Redacted] (-3AP) -Upon hearing about the sudden appearance of sentient robots, the Board makes no official statement. However, the nearest claimed systems to the robots are patrolled more regularly and thoroughly than usual. Clearly, they’re a little nervous about their new neighbour. (-0AP) -An open advertisement is sent out from the Corporation to anywhere in the southern galaxy where psionics congregate. The message reads as thus: “Son of wealthy industrialist seeking reputable psionic institution to help with troublesome dreams. Non-psionics need not apply.” Aside from the relevant contact information, all Hephaestus iconography is absent from the missive. (-0AP)
  12. Onwards [Sci-Fi Nation FRP - RP]

    Sign up for a Loan! We'll beat the Competition by 10%!! Sol-year 2142. The year the Holy Kingdom of Eadn collapsed. High Commander Amanda Phelps stood on her bridge, counting down the minutes before the Corporate fleet appeared in PAR space. This would be her first operation after nearly two years of pedantic drills and exercises. Her crews were prepared, her shields charged, her weapons ready. It was time to prove to the galaxy that Hephaestus was tough enough to ward off aggressors against free-association. This was not what Amanda was worried about--she knew her forces were entering a fixed fight and victory was assured. She was worried about what she was going to say. Amanda was not a good public speaker. She could bark orders like a champ, but speaking in front of crowds gave her the jitters. Her hands were clasped tightly behind her back to hide the clammy sheen of sweat that was quickly forming on them. What could she say? When the combined armada arrived, Amanda had been given orders to tell all ships other than the Eadni vessels to leave. Those that ran would not be attacked. She'd been told to say "something along those lines. You'll figure it out." She wished she'd been given a script. She was terrible at writing things. That's why she joined the Enforcers in the first place, damn it! Should it be a speech, or just a singular statement? God, if only she had more time to prepare! How could she, though, with the frantic orders she had been assigned? The USA fleet was already on its way, and if they were going to enact the ambush the timing had to be precise. "Ten seconds, Commander!" a technician called from his console. "All hands, prepare for real-space arrival. Repeat--all hands, prepare for real-space arrival." The automated call sent several troopers rushing down the hallways to their assigned places. Last calls for energy-cells and weapon calibrations could be heard throughout the ship. "Five seconds!" She needed something! Anything! The sweat was starting to pool around her collar. She couldn't even speak to acknowledge her navigator's reports. The ship shuddered, and with what felt like her stomach briefly free-falling, they re-entered real-space at the edge of the Utopie system. Reports started coming in immediately. Damage reports for the amassed THC ships was devastating. Images of burning capital-ships filled up holographic displays in front of her. Broken formations and heavy comms traffic clearly indicated the opposing warships were in no state for a fight. Still, their fleet was quite formidable. At least, it used to be. Whatever inspired the Thuleans to perform such a betrayal, it must have been worth it. "Opening a channel now, Commander," the communications officer said. "They can all hear you." Time seemed to stop. Amanda had nothing - absolutely nothing - to say. It was like all her worst nightmares from school coming back at once. Like that sneering ***** Clarissa teasing as little Amanda stumbled through a page of The Fountainhead. The whole class started to laugh. It took the teacher a full minute to keep them from giggling, but by then her confidence was completely gone. The time had come. Either she spoke now, or the embarrassment would grow. Some of her techies were staring at her now, expectantly. She lightly pressed the button on her personal console and spoke in monotonous, calm tone despite herself. "All those other than the Eadni who leave now will face no repercussions. Those that stay will face..." Her mind went completely blank. She needed to finish the statement but she had trapped herself into a grammatical hole. 'Those that stay will face'?? Why did she start a sentence like that?! It could have been so much easier! She needed a word. Think! Think!!! "...downsizing." She rasped. Due to her nerves, her teeth had been clenched, giving a deep, growling inflection to the word. Her crew nodded and smiled approvingly. She sat down in her chair, and flicked the button off. The Hephaestus fleet moved forward with the USA's, and won an easy victory. Though, the fight was always the simple part. Amanda would have preferred to fight a battle against a fully active fleet than speak to so many at once ever again. She called up the quartermaster, and requested a sandwich to celebrate the victory. He reminded her that he didn't make food. What a nuisance, Amanda was. --------------------------------------------------------------------- Upon the condemnation of the human colonies, Hephaestus makes no comment. No doubt business would be effected by the harsh rhetoric, but the Corporation plodded on as they always did. Without the THC looming in the near-distance, the Board at least felt safer. The Eadni fleet bombarding the PAR's capital out of spite was all the employees needed to remain free of guilt, though some quietly regretted the loss of life the Eadni suffered. Several federations crawled out of the former THC, like maggots from a corpse. With FEZ being reconstituted with (mostly) previously unaligned parties, they looked towards consolidating their own wealth. Just like always. After helping to free the firstborn Margek from his stasis pod, Steven officially announced his return to life in precisely the way you would imagine--in an advertisement for the Aphrodite Ultra-Resort. Apparently he had been recovering from a shrapnel wound to his head from the HCAC bombings two years back, and didn't want to leave investors in limbo if he went through a slow death. Like ripping off a band-aid, he wished to push a new Board in place so that confidence and stability in the market could be achieved earlier. Most shareholders accepted this version of events as simply the act of an eccentric veteran businessman wishing to protect his company. Behind closed doors however, whispers of him appearing out of nowhere in a white suit were a favourite topic for conspiracy enthusiasts. And people still couldn't explain the testimonies of him not being present for the negotiations during the bombings... -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Action Points: 4AP by default, 12AP from trade (+prosperity federation bonus), 4AP from population, 4AP from 8th Crusade, 3AP from industry, 2AP from business, 9AP from sectors. Total = 38AP -A huge sum of cold, hard cash is sent to the Han dominion for the purpose of paying off the debt to their hirelings. Many bankers shake their heads in disappointment. But, so long as the THC was dead and gone, it must have been worth it. Right? (-20AP) -Further personnel and resources are sent to the Han Dominion in order to build a battleship in their shipyard. The Han owe the Corporation quite a bit, and the Corporation plans to collect every bit. (-8AP) -Resources are sent to the Thulean Republic for them to build a trade station. Typical French, always wanting hand-outs... (-5AP) -The itoron mining worlds of Wollongong, Helix, and Grand Ares continue to be brutally exploited and expanded by the ravenous mining subsidies. When will it stop? Never. It will never stop. (-5AP to industry) -The board contacts the recently released Firstborn Margek. They invite him to the Grand Aurora Institute of Technology in order to show him a recent artefact uncovered by an exploration team. They explain that the artefact in question was a pair of vials from what appeared to be a hospital, but they were having trouble identifying precisely what the substances contained within them were. (-0AP) Map Changes: The red X's represent the two latest colonies, Woolongong and the former PAR colony. Both of which have itoron. The red lines represent the newest Corporate TCs.
  13. Onwards [Sci-Fi Nation FRP - RP]

    F.E.Z. Free Economic Zone The recent conflicts in the southern quadrants have shown that there is a greater need for cooperation among the flourishing economic centres of the galaxy. Hence, this agreement is to solidify mutual cooperation among the trade-states and corporations that value equitable business ventures without the limiting nature of an overbearing central government. This confederation of independent systems will ensure that economic prosperity will be possible throughout the galaxy, even in times of war. We at FEZ wish to sincerely show our desire for a more profitable coexistence with those who share the value of unshackled enterprise. The power of the free market is the greatest force in the galaxy, and it is the express desire of the signatories herein to show their commitment to this common good. The Obligations of Confederated Members -Upholding the public relations of the FEZ. a) Respecting the non-aggression principle. b) Refraining from breaking deals. -Supporting the unobstructed flow of trade throughout the FEZ. -Members must be willing to defend the trade-lanes of FEZ from pirates and other obtrusive malcontents, with mutual military cooperation to meet this end. -All members must be willing to share intelligence and data for tracking criminal elements within confederated property. -Mutual sharing of resources during emergencies. -Mutual sharing of useful technologies during emergencies, with all copyright protections included. -Respecting the independent agency and sovereignty of all confederated members. Confederated Members: -Hephaestus Enterprises -Thulean Republic -The Trade Federation -Kingdom of Armathwaite
  14. Onwards [Sci-Fi Nation FRP - RP]

    Now Selling Firstborn Cultural Replicas! Get Them While Stocks Last!! Firstborn City (Noun): An ancient edifice to a lost culture and power beyond imagination. Beyond priceless, the buildings have stood for millennia without disruption or calamity. Originally a place of meditation, it had a maximum population of about 23,000 before suddenly and inexplicably being abandoned. It was as if the whole town had simply stepped out and never come back. For an archaeologist, this place is a goldmine of history--an opportunity like no other to truly examine the mysterious forebears of all civilisations. Hephaestus Enterprises (Pronoun): A relatively new mega-corporation that doesn't give two squiggly shits about history. A hulking corporate freighter slowly touched down on surface of a pristine world, crushing plants, scattering animals, and disturbing the wild beauty that had lasted untold aeons. An unnatural, metal screech echoed through the plains, and the vessel's great cargo door slowly groaned open. A thousand Tithonus droids poured out of the hold and assembled on the plain. After a few minutes, the mass of bargain war-machines formed into lines and clattered off down the overgrown streets. They entered and secured each building, seeking threats to their charge, yet finding none. Finally, when the coast was clear, a young man and his entourage stepped off the vessel. Johnny Penrith, heir to Hephaestus Enterprises, walked into the timeless city with researchers and marketeers in tow. After a few hours of taking pictures, surveying some of the larger buildings, and discussing the market value of the cultural artefacts, young John gave the order to his researchers to strip the city to the bone. At first, the droids only collected interesting pieces of technology. After all, that was the most pragmatic option to further the Corporation's long-term goals. After everything more complicated than a wheel was taken, they moved on to cultural items—musical instruments, books, clothes, cutlery, artworks, and even pieces of the walls that struck the researchers as ‘pretty.’ A vast procession of plunder, like an ancient triumph of Rome, snaked its way through the streets of the city, ending at the cargo hold of the great freighter, with the crew compiling extensive lists of loot. Which included two disruptor pistols, and eight functioning firstborn servitors. It would take a few trips to transport everything of worth off the planet, but the most important item was sent straight to labs on Aurora. Two vials of an unidentified substance, with labels written in an unknown text. The mystery was too much to resist! --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The soft hum of Johnny's quantum alarm clock woke him with a start. Another nightmare. There were only nightmares since his father's suicide last year. It was the same one every night. He was in his father's office. Former CEO Steven Penrith was looking out the window with a smile, while fires burned across the face of Hades. It was like the featureless landscape were kindling, and the flames spread to almost every building, factory, and ship. The Protorian Archivar was there, too. He stared at Johnny with golden eyes and held out his hand. Between his fingers was a coin with a spiral pattern on both faces. It hurt to look at it. As he reached out to touch the coin, the Protorian turned to ash and faded away, just as the fire from outside to the office slowly creeping towards-- As always, he woke up at this point. For a few moments after his eyes opened, the after-image of the Archiver's eyes burned in his vision. ******* dreams. Some of the Board had recommended a number of qualified psychoanalysts, but he couldn't allow himself to be seen at a quack's office. God knows how the markets would react if the inheritor of Hephaestus was deemed mentally unfit. Pulling himself out of his naval cot, he took a brief moment to recall his surroundings in his morning haze. He had commandeered a bed in the crew-quarters last night. He hated sleeping in the same place more than twice. After the HCAC bombings, he was paranoid about being vaporised with xylorite explosives, and it didn't seem to matter that he and the Corporation were not the target of the original attack. When a totally unremarkable employee could be made a terrorist, who knows what random sailor could be in the employ of butchers? He pulled on his suit - form-fitted for his sixteen-year-old self - and skulked out of his room. Four burly Enforcers stood guard outside his quarters and stood to attention as he walked past him. Falling into line as he walked past, they marched silently behind their employer like dutiful dogs while shooting threatening looks at sailors who walked too close. It took almost twenty minutes of trudging through snaking corridors and travelling up numerous elevators before they party reached the bridge of the spacecraft. "Trucker Bill" was the Corporation's largest freighter. With the Corruptor war swiftly moving out of Hephaestus' view, the massive Tassaran-built ship was re-purposed for the transport of more 'sensitive' assets. In this case, the asset was Johnny. The Captain of the vessel, a Galaron, saluted the young industrialist as he walked on to the command deck. "Good morning, Mr Penrith," he croaked in slightly accented English. "I trust your quarters were of reasonable quality? Your request for a transfer was rather short-notice." "Yeah, yeah, they were fine, mate. Cheers." Johnny was not interested in the platitudes of the captain. The Galaron always seemed to try and impress him with his skill as master and commander. John, however, was not in the mood for networking (he couldn't even remember the captain's name), and he sat himself down in front of the holographic solar map that occupied the middle of the bridge. It's twirling images of the local star and planets made him feel slightly queasy just looking at them. "Any messages for me?" "Yes, Mr Penrith," purred the captain, "there was a communication sent from Hades. Sadly, some form of interference delayed it for almost a week. Shall I bring it up for you?" John gestured lazily towards the holo-projector, and nodded. In an instant, the planets disappeared, and were replaced by the incessant smiling visage of Jim Bean, currently the acting CEO. "G'day, Johnno, pal!" the beaming Bean began. "Hope you're doing well! Your mum sends her regards, but I think she's sending you a message a bit later!" Jim performed a well-practised laugh, though it only inspired a grunt from John. It was a quality laugh, though. It probably tested well in focus groups. "Now, I know you might still be a bit sour about being sent off on this little galactic outing, boss, but your old lady was pretty adamant that you needed to get out of the tower for a while. You can't stay cooped up forever, my man. What's better than a real-life adventure, right? Plumbing the depths of ancient, alien tombs, like in those old movies Ste-" Jim caught himself commendably well. Visible discomfort flashed across his features for the merest instant, before he regained his composure. "-like in those old movies, huh? So yeah. Get out there, rip up some ancient stone-work and try not to incur some mummy's curse, hey?" After the next bout of laughter, John couldn't help but roll his eyes. He was already on his way back after doing that very thing. Just how old was this message? "Anyway, on the business side of things, we've finished repairs on the main building and landing zones that were damaged last year. Which is just as well, because, ah, the ‘Big Man’ is pretty upset that they're still ongoing.” ‘Big Man?’ What? Jim suddenly lost his cheesy smile, and spoke very seriously. “Look, John mate? We felt that you should finish your trip and come back first, but I’d feel like a pretty shitty person if I didn’t tell you this. I hope you’re sitting down, because what I’m going to tell you is a bit of a doozy.” A doozy? What on Earth could Jim Bean think a ‘doozy’ was? ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Back in settled Corporate space, gossip and rumours had begun to circulate that an old man in a white suit had been walking around the streets of Hades before entering the HCAC building. This in itself would not be that significant, but the old man in question seemed to have an uncanny resemblance to Steven Penrith. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Action Points: 4AP by default, 6AP through trade, 4AP from the 8th Crusade, 8AP from sectors, 3AP from industry, 2AP from business, 4AP from population, Total = 31AP -Resources are sent to the Han Dominion in order to aid in the expansion of their shipyard. (-10AP) -Massive mining expansions to the newly-settled planet of Woolongong (sponsored by Woolongong Workshops) are ordered by the board. The desolate, featureless world makes the miners nostalgic for Hades and Grand Ares. They strive to honour their homeworlds by ripping apart the itoron-rich landscape with zero concern for neatness or waste-management. (-5AP) -Two vials of an unknown substance recovered from an ancient Firstborn city are sent to the Grand Aurora Institute of Technology. The extensive laboratories and researchers would no doubt discover the purpose of the vials. (-4AP) -Two colony ships are ordered for construction. One would be sent to the PAR, in order to remove and resettle the population of a system that is unpleasantly close to Corporate borders. The other would transport Corporate employees to the system in order to colonise it themselves. Though, the PAR would retain exclusive rights to mine the planet's rich itoron deposits. (-6AP) -Honouring an agreement with the Sovereign Military Order of Malta, the Corporation orders a sleek, sexy advertisement campaign to be played in surrounding alien and human nations (but oddly, not in Hephaestus space). It advertises a beautiful tourist resort, but also subtly hints towards the advantages of immigrating to Malta-space. (-4AP) -"Project: Peach" (-2AP)
  15. Onwards [Sci-Fi Nation FRP - RP]

    no_input please contact admin The terrible attacks on Hades reminded many of the shell-shocked citizens about the corruptor incursion some fifteen years ago. Due to the terrible attacks, the Board became considerably disorganised with the death of Phillip Narau, and later, Steven Penrith. With the two commanding pillars of the Board gone, infighting and argumentation quickly spread across the planet. The head of the HERMES program Jim Bean took the reigns of CEO by the vote of the Board, and with his negotiation skills he settled the divisions and brought order to the commanding structure of the Corporation. With him in control, a full investigation of the attack is performed with the aid of many other human nations, and the co-operation of numerous alien ones. Steven Penrith's suicide caught his family completely off-guard. His son was especially hard hit, and refused to leave his room for a week. Since he was deemed too young to head the company, Jim Bean acts as CEO until he is considered old enough to take over. Until then, he would continue his education while his company shares would be under the guardianship of his mother, Sally Penrith. With the end of the lock-down, the remaining parties of the delegates are allowed to leave the planet. However, the Enforcers are still on the street in droves, keeping a watchful eye on all proceedings. A surprising number of the smiling HERMES agents are also on the planet. Seemingly everywhere. Watching. The Acquisition Frenzy officially ends, with commerce normalising and balancing to the chaotic norm. Whatever Aurora was, it has been replaced by ravenous capitalists, with only the scientific institutions retaining any form of the old Auroran culture. The difference between a Hades employee and an Auroran employee is the accent. Soon, maybe that will be gone as well. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- :://Excerpt from quantum holovision broadcast 'HEPHAESTUS ULTRA-NEWS!'//:: A pair of colourful anchors sit behind an equally colourful desk. Above their heads, a massive screen flashes 'Hephaestus Ultra-News'. The anchors, despite their lively appearance, look tired, and shabby. The tattooed anchor wearing a cyan three-piece suit speaks gravely as he stares at the camera. "... officially confirmed that CEO Penrith has passed away. The Board is not currently commenting any further on the nature of his death, but there is considerable speculation that it may be connected to the recent attack at the HCAC." The other fluffy-haired anchor places her finger to her earpiece briefly and listens intently. "It appears acting CEO Jim Bean is about to address the press outside of the HCAC right now. We're going over to that now." The image cuts to a lectern where Jim Bean is standing. He is without his trade-mark smile, and the bags under his eyes might indicate a lack of sleep. He begins to speak in a raspy voice. "The Hephaestus Board would like to express our deepest apologies for the loss of life that has occurred on our Administration world. Despite our security measures an attack was performed in the heart of our corporation--one which lead to the deaths of many important figures in the Southern Galaxy. Our sympathy goes out to every nation and individual affected by these horrific attacks. We hope that, despite this tragedy, the peace process may continue unabated. An agreement was reached mere moments before the first explosion, if footage of the event can be believed." Jim takes a deep breath before continuing. Extensive investigations conducted by Corporate agents and other volunteering agencies have found the following; "A Galaron employee who had been a part of the Hephaestus family for almost two years violated his contract by planting explosives beneath the conference room for the meeting delegates, and in the transport of the Redon. Both explosives were placed through supposed routine maintenance, and neither Enforcers or Redon guards noticed during security sweeps. Upon planting the explosives, the Galaron left Corporate space for the GTFO, where a safehouse was prepared for him. A Tassaran arrived, wherein the Galaron agent was assassinated in order to tie up loose ends. After tracking the Tassaran to his namesake's republic, it was discovered that he received payment for the murder via bank transfer in the Skellar Kingdom. Here, a Skellar who went only by the name of "Val" transferred payment. Tracking his movements halfway across the galaxy, agents observed him exiting the same train at four different stops without getting back on, and entering a hotel without ever leaving. A picture with "Artist's impression" written beneath is pops up on the screen. At said hotel, we found a box that, when opened, contained a smaller box, and so on and so on..." Jim was clearly trying to move through his statement quickly, at this point. "However, the perpetrator was not found. Analysts have concluded that he may have been in possession of arcane teleportation technology, or somehow managed to slip past all cameras, witnesses, and law-enforcement on five separate occasions. Within his boxes contained this symbol, which is ah, a somewhat-obscure symbol from a northern-galactic religion. When cross-referencing these facts with other murders over history, we found three other cases in the galaxy where similar symbols were found. The same boxes and symbol, etcetera. There is, however, no connection between them. It can therefore be assumed that these people were not politically motivated, but were actors on behalf of someone else. Since none of the southern-galactic leaders went unscathed, we can assume that this was not orchestrated by any of the leaders at the table that dreadful day. We have suspicions that some unrelated power may have hired this band of pretentious, arrogant wankers to butcher the delegates in order to continue the war. We hope that all the concerned parties will consider this. We will not make excuses for ourselves. The Corporation has failed all those who came into our space. We felt we were ready for such tasks, but clearly we were wrong. Once more, our hearts and sympathy go to all those who lost their lives. If anyone has any information, we urge you to contact your local law-enforcement. Jim nods once, and proceeds back through the doors of the HCAC, flanked by Enforcers. //::Excerpt Ends::// Action Points: 4AP by default, 6AP from trade, 4AP from 8th Crusade, 7AP from sectors, 3AP from industry, 1AP from business, 4AP from population. -Just like every year, another group of destroyers are put into production. Three over-designed vessels are built. (-12AP) -The Board approves of an advertisement campaign geared towards professors. Wanting to fill up the Grand Auroran Institute of Technology with the best of the best. They notably advertise the considerable facilities and grants available to professionals. (-5AP) -A massive expansion of the Itoron mines on Grand Ares and Helix are ordered by the Board. Business must continue, no matter what. (-5AP) -From some information gleaned from the late Protorian Archiver and Chaal, the Corporation begins a massive survey of all it's controlled systems and territorial claims. They're searching specifically for anything related to Firstborn 'boxes,' though in all honesty finding anything interesting would suffice. (-7AP) -Yet another colony ship chock-full of miners races off to one of the itoron-rich planets identified last year. (-0AP)