Intergalactic Warfare [IC thread]

[MorhgorRB]

"It's oyxgen. Mostly." Garth anwsered as the hanger doors clicked shut with a deck shaking thud. "The Old Man, Admiral Rinnist, isn't one for formalty, or politics and niether am I." The two honour guards stood stock still, though the lieutentant showed far less restraint, a small smile on his face as the alien appeared no more threatening than a flying squirrel back on Solla. A bit strange that it was so large, but hardly a 'squidface.' "Would you like to head on up to the reception? we'll have to take the long way, the crew is... well disciplined, but you never know how you'll react until it's there. A new situation, that is."

[Ganurath]

The Elder Templar of the Response Fleet ordered the fleet to put up passive jamming to disguise their arrival. Barring any exceptional detection systems on the part of the Confederates, all they would notice is a brief anamoly in the direction the Cartographer and a disturbingly large number of errors in their star charts.

With that, a web of lasers beaming outside the visible spectrum began to play between the stealth craft, using a binary code to communicate among one another. One of the lighter Harrier craft managed to line up with the Cartographer in the Confederate Bay, and began including the onboard computer in the data exchange. With that, the pilot received her orders... And a light on the top of the Cartographer would occasionally buzz and go out.

"Ah, reception, yes, that sounds good. This new situation uses feminine pronouns, if your language has them, by the way." With that, the pilot spread her wings to their full two meter span and leapt from the cockpit, gliding easily to the floor in front of Garth. "I am Naksa of the Labak Bloodline, Cartographer of the Void for the Facteal Nobility. You would be...?"

[MorhgorRB]

"Second Lieutenant Steven Garth, Head of Ship Security on the Hydra Reborn." He lead her though a set of thin doors that hissed open as they approached, leading into a hallway. A moment later there was a sense of vertigo, and he motioned back to the door they had just entered, which now exited into a grand dining room set in darkly polished oak, modest half-cups on the walls concealing the light sources. Garth motioned to the table, "Take a seat, where ever you would like, any preferences in food, miss?"


"Sir!" The Admiral turned, and joined the Tactical officer at his console. "What is it?" The officer explained quickly about a signal that originated in Hanger four, and dissapated somewhere out in space. "Can we get an accurate reading on where it ends?" The tactical officer shook his head slowly, "Though, if there's anything out there, it would have to move if we drifted that way..." "Make it look like a natural drift. And do what you have to, I have a guest to go look after."

[WhiteKnight777]

Flagship Jorgamund, Bridge, in orbit above Skoll

Leman Russ, Primarch of the Space Wolves, stood staring into the holo-display as technicians of the Adeptus Mechanicus and naval officers of the 13th Company swirled about him - some were the descendants of those who had set out with him so long ago, others fresh recruits drawn from the world below, new-born into the Imperium. But his mission here was one far more vital than simply the reconquest of lost worlds, vital though that task was. He and his wolves were hunting - on the trail of the Tree of Life, the key to the salvation of the Imperium.

After the Emperor's wounding by his traitorus brother, Horus - a name that still filled the Primarch's savage heart with wild, unstoppable rage - he had watched the Imperium begin to crumble. Russ knew about leadership. Without the Emperor, the Imperium was like a pack with no alpha male - it would tear itself apart, slowly, with lesser leaders tearing each other to ribbons, with no concern for the pack as a whole. The only way to save all he had fought for was to heal the Emperor.

A soft chirp interrupted his thought as a communication came through, high priority. The face of Lordi Svarnbad, one of his lieutenants, appeared on the holodisplay. He saluted Russ quickly before speaking in his deep, rumbling bass.

M'lord, we've made contact with a Xenos. Not one native to this place, though - Eldar. And one whose contacted the Imperium before, I think. He's being brought to you even as we speak.

[Ganurath]

Naksa was visibly thrown off balance by the lift, but figured out what was going on. She could tell they couldn't grab holds with their feet, and by the clothing covering their arms (for shame!) they weren't likely to be flight capable. She adjusted herself, and was less thrown when they stopped.

In response to the question, Naksa reluctantly removed her breather mask, sniffing the air appraisingly, then sighing in apparent relief at the lack of evident toxins. "San sakair..." She leapt to the nearest chair of the table, grabbing the armrests with her feet and as took in a deep whiff of the area. She then glanced at Garth, scratching behind her ear in embarassment before putting her mask back on. "Translator's in the muzzle... My people are technically omnivorous, but in practice we're mainly carnivores. Is there any raw meat or dry fruit avail-"

At this point the pilot began scratching behind both ears and mumbling to herself about being greedy. She then glanced sheepishly at Garth. "Perhaps... Pure water?"

- - - - -

The Admiral's ship, and indeed every ship in the area, receives seventy different transmissions of various forms of greeting in the Confederate language in the space of a single second shortly following the start of the drift. Then, one of the Templar Escort Cruisers, 125 meters across and shaped something like a hyphen in paranthesises, dropped the jamming shrouding its presence and fully lit the hull before transmitting a full message, this one exclusively to the Admiral's ship. "Natural drift doesn't occur spontaneously any more than a hunter's eye can't catch a shift in motion. I cannot guess where you are going with our kindred; may I assume that she will be unharmed upon her inevitable return?"

[Talkkno]

Eldrad Ulthran walked silently as he was escorted by several Space Marines to the bridge. He willing surrendered himself to the mon-keigh so that he could meet Leman Russ. A most humiliating insult to his pride. But today was more important then that, though the assurances of the Imperium were usually hollow ones, but during the time of the Horus Hersey, the farseer had known the Primarch as honorable. As he approached the bridge, the removed his helement. Though most Eldar were unfazed by age, even Eldrad's existence drew to a close. As his body and face were riddled with blue crystals.

"Primarch, as you may remember me from the time I warmed your "Emperor" of his follies of pride, Eldrad Ulthran, leader of the Ulthwé craftworld that now currently rests in this galaxy. I am hear to have assurances of peace among us." Eldrad said respectfully with a silent nod, though standing with a quite dignity, no small feet as the Primarch easily towered several feet above him.

[MorhgorRB]

The Admiral smiled to himself, halfway down the corridor, "So much for keeping it a secret." He tapped into the com-link in his glove, which sent a signal to Communications, opening a personal channel for him, cutting through the flood of background transmissions that had abruptly popped up, "Her safety, and your own... prehaps mine as well, are depandant on your actions. If you'd like her, back immediatly that can be arranged." John carelessly hit a door control, motioned the occupant of the quarters out, and sat down heavily on the bunk. This day is going to get longer and longer.

Garth nodded slowly, "Did you catch that?" He asked absently, running his hand along the high back of a chair, "Ah, right. Of course." He looked across at Naksa, "Fruit and meat it is. No promises on quality, ship food is always such synthesized garbage." He lowered his voice to a whisper,"But don't tell the cooks that I said that."

[WhiteKnight777]

Russ glowered at the alien, his eyes flashing hot when he spoke of the Emperor. "Speak of the Emperor with disrespect again, Xenos, and you will regret it." Russ snarled "But my quest here has nothing to do with you or your breed. Stay out of my way."

[Talkkno]

"Very well Primarch, I shall make myself scarce." He said, leaving the bridge without ceremony as he emarked toward his escort, probing the webway to Ulthwé .

[Ganurath]

"Her role is to explore, let her do so as much as you'll allow. It'll be a learning experience for both parties. Understand, though, if my niece's linkup goes dead, we find out if your species is edible. We'll be waiting about in the meantime." The Elder Templar then ceased transmission, putting the jam back up and cutting the lights to minimize exposure, inducing a slight drift the instant the lights were out.

- - - - -

Naksa blinked in confusion initially, the concept of a metaphor being... alien to the Facteal. On top of that, the translator only worked with words, not with meaning. "Do they not know that the components of their foodstuffs are being reprocessed from waste products?"

[WhiteKnight777]

Russ said nothing, nodding to his men to let the Xenos leave in pace. It would have been easy to kill him, cut the head from the snake - but better to avoid conflict with the Eldar if possible. No doubt they'd have plenty of foes to face irregardless -a thought that brought a feral grin to the Primarch's fanged countenance.

[MorhgorRB]

"It's not waste... it just doesn't taste quite right, anyw..." He cut himself off quickly as a man slipped into the room, and placed a tray of apple slices and what looked like a prime rib onto the table in front of her, before hurrying back out, looking nervously over his shoulder. "See? Mixed reactions."

John ran a hand through his greying hair, "Get the Wraiths out there. It's what they were made for, isn't it? Outstealthing the enemy, and finding them? Oh, I see the captains think they know bette... Yes, that -is- what I thought." He had a pair of Wraiths moving out to track the stealthy aliens, and it was about time for the Wraiths to go against something aside from rebel passives, anyway. Just thinking about how they worked made his mind twinge, a scientist had tried to explain it to him in the simplest terms he could, and it was only the summary that made any sense : Direct light is absorbed, indirect light is dissapated in a thousand different angles, while the Slipfield effectively stops all radar and transmissions, allowing only intense energy or physical objects to pass through. Perfect for this sort of snooping.

[Ganurath]

Naksa grabbed one of the slices, sniffing it appraisingly before tossing it back with the rest. "Ah... Meaning without meaning... Which of these is the meat?"

The response fleet was confused at first. Transmissions weren't coming through, laser tight communications that should only be obstructured by physical objects. Sometimes the transmission would get a partial feed. The anomolies were soon tracked by the distortions they caused in the energy web, and the seventy transmissions rang out as one, sending the Admiral the coordinates of his stealth ships and estimated trajectories. "What have we here?"

[MorhgorRB]

"The ... big red piece there in the middle, the white is bone." Garth turned his seat, and sat back in it, straightening out his uniform. "I wonder what's taking the Old Man so long, maybe his age finally caught up to him..."

He rolled his eyes, appearntly his stealth captains were common sense disabled, floating into the middle of the other fleet. "Just reconnaissance ships, to find out a bit more about you." He paused a moment, as his communicator made a fizzling sound, and ended it's function with a burst of static. He qued the bridge through a wall panel, "The Wraiths are recon, and ask them to stop transmitting like that. Oh. And my wristcomm is dead, I want a replacement in the next five minutes, bring it to the reception hall." He headed out, and toward the intradeck transport.

[Ganurath]

"I had no idea... You said your food options were limited, but... Do you burn the meat to preserve it somehow?" At this point, Naksa's concern about the local cuisine seemed to be elevating to genuine panic.

Meanwhile, her kindred were having all sorts of fun at the expense of the scouting ships. The Harriers were true to their name, coordinating with the Templars in a blur of spherical interweaving about the scout ships, exploiting the similiar architecture of the craft to disguise their numbers. Within the sphere formation, a few of the ships would always be present. The pattern was simple: Slip in, decloak, blow a cloud of nanites on the Confederate stealth ships to keep them visible, cloak, then slip in. The majority of the ships, never less than 90%, were harvesting the ejected nanites after they bounced harmlessly off the stealth craft, allowing them to maintain constant exposure on the Confederates while maintaing constant confusion.

"Find out more about us, bah! Let them find out that we don't like being stalked like prey beasts. Let them learn what it means to be humble. Maintain harassment, but send some Harriers to salvage debris outside the sphere, on the side opposite our hosts. I doubt we'll catch all the nanites, and I'd like to keep the cloud thick." The Elder Templar laid down on his padded seat, barring his teeth at the holoscreen in sadistic pleasure. "Let's see how they react."

[MorhgorRB]

"Uncooked... the way you asked for it? I suppose it was frozen..." Garth looked uncertain, there were eating habits for polite dining, but details of how something was cooked were beyond him.

It sounded like nothing less than a storm, rain beating on a tin roof. The crew were getting twitchy, and the captains without transmission capability were left on thier own, though the twin-ship link was still functioning. "Lets give this buggers a run for thier money. You go ghost, I'll decloak. See you on the other side." With that the Mayflower rippled back into exsistance, all glittering silver in the sun's light. The other ship ceased to be entirely, objects passing through it without as much as a hinderance, physologically tramazing to watch something pass through your chest the crew had a proceedure for this : get to a cyrochamber, with the exception of the captain and a skeleton crew for when the generator failed to keep the field up in a few hours.

[An Enemy Spy]

Zora did not relish the thought of coming to blows against a ship the size of a planet. As a Sangheili, he was fond of combat, but he was not suicidal. He elected to change the subject. "You come to the edge of our galaxy, alien. Perhaps you could enlighten me as to why." He motioned to one of the crew members to record everything being said.

[Talkkno]

"We Eldar come from a galaxy stark and grim, everywhere you turn are daemon-infested miasma of the warp. The well spring of souls, where all emotions collide manifest in real space to make horrors all so real. We once had a Empire so powerful that stars lived or died at our command, but was swept away by our decadence that consumed our civilization as the warp make such things into gods unto themselves. For untold millennia we struggled to surive agaisnt this dark backdrop, as countless other horrors await. We decided to flee here, to rebuild and to have peace. Though many our breathen have stayed behind, fighting a fight that can not be won." Ashtok said grimly.

[An Enemy Spy]

"The Covenant wish you no harm. I have come to extend an invitation to join us."

[Ganurath]

Naksa eyed the meat, clicking her tongue in a gesture akin to tsking. "Between freezing and thawing, the meat has dried out considerably. There's more moisture in these fruit slices..." Naksa then pulled back her mask, continuing to speak in her sharp native tongue untranslated as she plucked up one of the fruit slices and slipped it into her mouth, sucking and chewing as she spoke before pulling the mask down. "...don't even have the pride to show your forelimbs. Ah, my apologies for rambling, it's just that dried meat can be somewhat... offensive."

The nanite cloud persisted despite one of the Wraiths becoming visible, the sudden vanishing of the other Wraith being dismissed as some sort of jump technology that masks its occurance for a low-profile system entry. Those on board the 'ghosted' Wraith's skeleton crew would be able to see the nanite cloud passing through them, the micromachines actually being the about the size of centimeter diameter beads, resembling gray steel scarabs and grasping in blind hunger. They were grasping for a surface to leap off of if they didn't naturally ricochet, but that intent naturally did not come across in the subtle nuiances of their insectile clawing.

[Talkkno]

"I am in no position to make such decisions, but I'm curious The Covenant you speak of, what is it exactly?"

[An Enemy Spy]

"The Covenant is a fellowship of species who have banded together to follow the forrunners on the Great Journey."

[Talkkno]

"What is this "Great Journey" you speak of?" He asked with only mild curiosity, stalling for time so Eldhrend could make the correct decision.

[An Enemy Spy]

"Countless millenia ago, the Forrunners created 7 great rings known as Halos. When they activated these holy devices, they ascended to godhood. They are no longer on this plane, but they have left clues for all to follow. The Covenant is devoted to uniting all the races of the Galaxy and propelling those who are worthy along The Path."

[Talkkno]

"Delusionuall." He thought, as he repilded
Permission to come aboard then?"

[An Enemy Spy]

"Granted." Zora thought it would be a good idea to see Sangheili up close and know who they were dealing with if they tried anything fishy

[Talkkno]

Ashtok nodded in approval as he left the sleek spaceship to a escort, beaming into the stark void and into the strange alien ship. He removed his helment before disemarking, showing his slender human looking form and face, though on a level of beauty that neared terrifying.
As he meet with the Sangheili for the first time, he nodded respectfully as he clenched his fist, as he attempted to force his powers unto his mind, erasing any memory of the contact. He would be long gone thanks to his holo-fields and everything before him a faded bleakness of space.

[Iethloc]

"Any form is fine," King Dnamet said, facing the Aldier drone. He then turned around and gestured for both visitors to follow him. "Come, I'll show you around. We have just about everything here...libraries the size of cities, artificial habitats, monasteries...if you wish to trade technology, information or any other goods, we're always open for trade. It's been years since we've had friendly contact with outsiders," he said.

Meanwhile, the Photonships outside, their job done for now, re-cloaked themselves and resumed their normal routine; patrolling the area to make sure no other surprises come up. For now, the rest of the Thoteza fleet came to a halt until King Dnamet was done welcoming the other races.

[Lord_Asmodeus]

The Drone... droned something akin to binary script for a moment before turning spinning it's torso as it continued to move forward and aiming it's red eye at the King before speaking. "The Aldier is quite interested in the sharing of knowledge and technology. We too are eager to meet this... Covenant."

The Aldiers ships were perfectly still, save for routine repairs and upkeep and an odd buzzing, humming noise that emanated from all the ships.

[An Enemy Spy]

One of the Unggoy techies began scanning the probe.