Empire 5 - Capitulation Over Itea

[TheDarkDM]

Drifting high above Itea, the Vilari flagship Serenity Dogma glittered amid the shattered remnants of the battles recently won. Below, the people of the conquered system roiled in uncertainty as both their faith and their sovereignty buckled under inexorable forces. Some might have looked to the sky in hope, guessing which of the countless new stars was an aid ship or peacekeeping force, only to be met with serene and terrifying silence. Some in the Sodality and the Unified Churches no doubt would have supported such an effort, but Fleet Master Dyrma-Thal had not come on a mission of mercy. Instead, the central bay of the command ship had been cleared of all equipment save a raised platform, where the Rothuun Galactic Holdings and the Syndrome would soon offer their surrender. Vanguard wings of the Star League Defense fleet burned in distant orbit around the Itean star, ready to escort the ships of the coming delegations to their historic destination. Pacing his command bridge, the Vilari admiral’s eyes scanned the vast black horizon, awaiting both his enemies and the representatives of the equally aggrieved Federated Churches and Ninurtine Empire, that he might finally return home and begin the long task of national healing.

[moossabi]

From such a high vantage point, the planet of Itea would look rather unremarkable to the occupying forces. The planet is dominated by a single ocean, with a single continent upon which the Iteans humans reside. Its moon orbits the planet lazily, while in the distance a white star bathes the planet in light. It would make for an ideally calm backdrop for such a brokering of peace, were it not for the new information that had been gained on it after the battle.

Over the period of time since the Star League's victory, numerous disturbing reports have been flooding in in regards to the state of the planet. Initial scans demonstrate far more sapient life signs than had been officially registered in Itea's census records, millions of humanoid beings churning within the planet's vast ocean. Above the waves, the various sovereign nations under the Church of Iteus' sway have collapsed into anarchy, though seemingly the battle in the cosmos had very little to do with it. The human population has been corrupted by some apparent virus, mutating them into abominations that are as much cephalopod as man. The Vilari's passive approach to the occupation has yielded little in the way of an explanation for this madness, though it is generally assumed that the Church had some hand in it.

Any attempts to hail the Grand Cathedral have been met with silence, and there has been no indication of the whereabouts of Pontiff Provis. Some suspect that he has fled the system, though there have been no escape craft launched since the battle. With the destruction of their fleet and the dissolution of their puppet states, the Church seems to have been effectively crippled as a faction. Even Altea, the Church's beloved "Heir of Iteus," has not made any public moves against the occupation.

However, ever since arriving in the Itean system, the atmosphere (mood, not planetary) has been different, a lingering sense that something is 'off' about the region. At first, many could dismiss it as anxiousness about the upcoming battle, yet even in victory that dread has persisted. There is a general sentiment that nowhere is private, that no matter where one goes they are not alone, that they are being watched by malevolent unseen eyes. As the time for the capitulation draws nearer, many of the occupiers will be happy to leave this wretched system behind for good.

[Ausar]

Xixis stood at the bridge of the Great Crusade, his hands clasped behind his back, impeccable dress uniform freshly smoothed. He watched the occupied world grow slowly larger in the distance, until a comms query came from the Vilari pickets. “First Admiral Xixis Ilhith, representative of the Federation of Free Systems, requesting passage to the peace conference.” His voice was calm, smooth, and unmistakably authoritative. His accent was different to the other leading Dasari, that of the Dreider heartlands, never fully stamped out by the old ‘Dominion. More deliberate, a lengthier drawl. His mane of greying hair swayed as he turned to the XO. “Don’t break my ship, Simmons. I don’t want to have to hotfoot out of here in a shuttle if things get messy.” He saluted, and went below.

As the shuttle hove into view of the Serenity Dogma, Xixis slowed it to a cruise, taking in the roiling wonder of Iteus above him. He hoped Corris had found something of worth up in that Ibx place. For a long while, he sat and considered the tumultous events that had led from the discovery of a multitude of galactic civilisations when he was a mere Flight Leader through the wrenching of a galaxy apart and whole twice over, to flying a shuttle solo into the maw of a Vilari flagship, to watch two powers he barely knew surrender three years after sending the quadrant into an uproar. He barely noticed the Vilari escort come to guide him in. It was the hiss of his cockpit opening that drew him out of his reverie.

Proud, tall, and alone, the ageing First Admiral stood in the doorway, and waited for the combatants to arrive.

[Gaius Hermicus]

The Rothuun delegation arrived with great reluctance. The minotaurs themselves had refused to attend, with one notable exception.

Within the iron warship descending over Itean, a trio of dignitaries sat around a square table. At the head of the table was Mitka Vashnyet, representing the Ogatvezhiy of Baryshev. Despite his ursine body and frightening teeth, Mitka is dressed impeccably in a silk suit, bow tie, and silver cuff links, with a large briefcase resting at his side. At the Ogatvezhiy's left was God-King Baphomet, representing the Kurucu of Kuk Reyen. Approximately twenty-five feet tall, he crouched uncomfortably on the floor. Baphomet's lower body, clad in a mechanical kilt which occasionally releases a burst of sparks, is humanoid, but his chest and head are that of a monstrous black-furred goat. His narrow, slit-like eyes gaze out the window at the Vilari vessel. The final member of the diplomatic expedition is Dahlia Jones, representing Niconia. A pale-skinned, ethereal human woman dressed in an ornate white gown, she slumps against the table, fanning her face and drinking a mint julep. All three of the dignitaries are clearly quite bored, but dead-set on their mission.

At long last, the ship lands on the platform of the Vilari ship. Baphomet is the first to emerge from the hatch, squeezing himself through with an agonized groan. Mitka emerges next, followed by Dahlia. A few moments pass, and then one last group exits the craft. Five Rainbow Octopi, one each in red, orange, yellow, green, and purple, surround a chained and scarred Rothuun. His face has been marred by severe bruising and scarring, but he is still recognizable as Markath Frostfur, the former King of Thurtal. Seeing the sunlight of Itean, he suddenly bolts forward, smashing his way past the orange Octopus and attempting to escape. Unfortunately, his chains constrict his momentum, and the Octopi quickly catch up to him, locking onto his body with their tentacles. Markath convulses once, then is motionless. A few moments pass before he again staggers to his feet.

[Aedilred]

Peace was peace, and there was little doubt that the Star League had the Itean system under control, but the history of the Empire with its western neighbours was fraught with mistrust, and surprise Syndrome attacks on Imperial space were far from forgotten. So as the Imperial navy arrived around Itea it was not the Liberator nor even one of her sisters with a military escort, but a full battlegroup, clustered around the hulking Leviathan and her equal in length, though not in bulk, the Terminus, from which the hail came.

"Lord Admiral Anguradeshib of the Imperial Navy, requesting permission to come aboard."

Since the assassination attempt before the Battle of the Heart-Beacons, the Lord Admiral displayed an eyepatch and scars, whether for affectation or in reflection of real injury less clear, but the result was that her visage, which had always been stern, was now diamond-hard. Along with her military escort was a rather younger man in a formal diplomatic uniform.

She and her staff saluted as they reached the bridge. "Fleet Admiral," she said to Dyrma-Thal, "an honour to meet you finally. With me to witness the end to the war is the Imperial Prince-Elector, Councillor Renahimith."

[Tentreto]

The Duenem delegation was fairly small, this being the far side of the war. However, a small ship duen, Polarity Armour, headed towards the Vilari ship, broadcasting messages of truce and greeting. Of course the Duenem would do all they could to ensure the war ended, even while they patrolled their own boarders, on the slim chance that affairs reignited.

On Armour, Lighter Lighter, far more focused than she had in a while. Although it had been very touch and go, the Duenem were within hours of achieving their objective: a quick and peaceful end to the war. Although many had died, this would ensure many more would live.

As she was escorted in, Lighter flickered her Amber diodes at the Vilari leader. "Greetings Fleet-Admiral," she began. "I am Lighter Lighter, head of the Diplomatic Task for the Duenem. It is good to see that this war is near it's end. I shall ensure a recording of the event reaches the Duenem forthwith."

[Rolepgeek]

As is so frequently the case for the semi-aquatic Rass, they are the last to arrive. On prior occasions, this has been the result of the notoriously unreliable nature of Rhoshan ships - but on this occasion, it is due to the ongoing demands of wartime occupation. The Vigilant-Admiral Sorren Caxton Elien strides onto deck, wearing full officer's dress in the - adjusted - style of the Federated Churches, one considerably more akin to the uniform worn by First Admiral Xixis Ilhith than either of the two were likely to be perfectly comfortable with. Sorren's eyes are bloodshot, her reactions delayed, responses disproportionate - but her gaze is as alert and intense as it has ever been. Some part of her mind, detached and aloof from the concerns of fuel management and redistribution, orbital alignment coverage, and the necessities of the coming meeting, remarked internally on how suitable her title really was, now.

An occupation of the planet was no trivial task, especially one in the throes of such a situation as this. While Sorren catalogued each of the delegations in turn on her path towards her position by the Fleet Master, as local commander of the combined force operations that had resulted in the Star League's victory in this sector. And where the Vilari were reluctant to commit personnel and resources to a doomed world so recently removed from enemy hands, the Revered Ones - and so, the Vigilant-Admiral - would not approve of callousness. Her legs itched, begging her to return to her orbital command post on board the Scrutiny, where reports of further activity and fresh developments even now were piling up as the situation continued to snowball.

Four Adversity-class K-Rifters were in geosynchronous orbit above key locations on Itea's surface, including the Grand Cathedral, ready to launch multi-ton projectiles at extreme velocities and reduce those locations to dust if necessary. Two more swung silently in polar orbits, opposite one another in their watchful, deadly paths. The Pearlescent and Coraline's pilots were running themselves ragged working double-shifts providing air cover for the few communities remaining that had not succumbed to the looming wave of...whatever this was. One common factor among the survivors had become clear to them already: it was only those communities whom had rejected the knowledge parasites - and by extension, the Itean Church - who were spared the mutations in full. Instead, they were besieged by those who had succumbed, torn apart by those whose former bodies had once merely shunned them.

Sorren's hands were fists as she saluted the Fleet Master - this was still their ship, after all - and took her position. Even so, her hands shook, just barely. This was a wretched system - and that was all the more reason she could not leave those on Itea to their fate. It would be no small relief when the remainder of Alpha-Fleet was freed of it's patrol duties to join them, and a greater relief still when the Kombuch supply of Sprite fighters arrived as per the terms of their arms supply deal slightly under a year ago. Whether their arrival would be of any help to the survivors on the planet, though, was an entirely different question. But perhaps most importantly of all would be the arrival of the Unanswerable Prayer, whose salvage capabilities and emergency management personnel, along with consultants from the Sodality, Federated Churches, and more, would be invaluable in the months to come. If Itea experienced a Kessler Event, the communities on the surface were almost certainly doomed.

Sleep could afford to wait for at least one more night. There was vigil to keep.

[Ausar]

Xixis watched the combatants of the conflict filter in, and pushed reluctantly off the wall, striding over to the platform and standing to the side, outwardly relaxed. He doffed his cap, and saluted the approaching Star League delegates, eyes briefly lingering on Sorren, then saluted the Sanguinary League delegates. “Xixis Ilhith, observer and delegate for the Federation of Free Systems, ready to begin.” His voice was smooth, languid even. His eyes told a different story, intent and piercing, studying the assembled diplomats. He waited.