Fart party

The New Orthodoxy wrote:

Their arrival into Falen'tak is met with no fanfare with the enemy. It seems the Orthodoxy claims of a clear system had been true. Commonwealth sensor returns indicate a teeming fleet of bio-ships thousands strong, the smallest of which are no larger than a few hundred meters while the largest dwarf even the proportions of Furudian super battleships. Small craft burst from the innards of hives cratered into the flesh of carriers, purpose-built and rapidly assembled repair drones dutifully attending to whatever small retrofits the capitol ships require.

Although undoubtedly alien in nature, some of the infrastructure of the Orthodoxy ships are not entirely foreign to the Furudian fleet. Glimpses of more traditional weapon batteries and detection arrays seem to suggest that not all of these vessels are entirely grown as originally postulated, but undergo a superstructure assembly and then a grafting process of the biological components so distinct of Orthodoxy design.

The foreign, yet oddly familiar, ships were taken in by the Commonwealth cameras. Their movements were watched by stern-faced analysts, recording everything they thought could be of importance in a possible engagement. The 4th and 3rd fleets alongside their complimentary strike forces moved to merge with the Orthodoxy fleets. Their grey steel alloy hulls hurtled across the vast expanse silent. Small flashes of light on each ship burned brightly. Green for right, red for left. As they made their way to the Orthodoxy, admiral Miller hailed their estranged allies from her flagship.

"This is the third and fourth Commonwealth fleets alongside complimentary strikeforces, are the Orthodoxy ships read for battle?" Weeks of travel had left their ships partially exhausted, yet still battle-ready. Refueling wouldn't be necessary, as they had stopped in a previous system to do just that, and made sure their munitions alongside other supply elements were at maximum capacity for the undoubtably arduous battle ahead.

The New Orthodoxy wrote:

The grav-tram hurls along, spiraling the foreigners even deeper into the gargantuan space station. The collection of spires becomes more prominent, soon encapsulating the whole of what meager view is available to the Vellarans.

But instead of heading upwards, their journey sees them suddenly descend deep into the bowels of the vessel, their route twisting non-nonsensically and seemingly at random before coming to a halt deep within the recesses of the administrative district, the opulence above now little more than a distant view, a looming monument to the Elisk nobility that cast shadows so deep even the artificial light placed at regular intervals struggled to break the gloom.

The agents are ushered out by their escorts, joined by an even heavier security detail upon their arrival upon their exit. The area here is barren, the clean utilitarianism a far cry from the ramshackle construction of the outer districts and the ostentatious display of power and wealth the massive trade-towers and pleasure-palaces that hung above. The party is watched closely, flitting shapes among distant shadows the tell-tale sign of Elisk sharpshooters as they steadily leap from embankment to embankment, trailing the unusual party of aliens as they are led to a pair of rather nondescript bunker doors, easily mistakable for just another maintenance hall or forgotten gang den were it not for the inordinate amount of heavily-armed Elisk that peppered the outskirts of the entrance.

how entering albania feels

Immediately pain rushed to the lead admiral's temple as she tried to make sense of the situation. Red blood poured from her nose and onto her black uniform, leaving a dark stain hard to observe from a distance away. She looked from her left to her right. All around the bridge crewmembers were suffering the same debilitating ailment. Men and women held their temples, screaming and moaning. One man even began to claw at his eyes. Blood trailed from where his fingernails had raked over his skin.

Summoning her strength, Admiral Miller finally staggered over to the communications terminal. "Cease this attack or we will fire upon your ships flesh-horror." She cared not if she insulted whatever mass of biomatter commanded the Orthodoxy fleets, only that it stopped. Did they forget they sent an envoy to us? She thought to herself, her mind splintering with pain. It was hard to think with such a pressure in her head. It felt as though someone was giving her a lobotomy, scrambling her brain-matter into tiny chunks. "Prepare to fire," She said. Whether all of her gunnery-officers heard her she couldn't tell. A few spoke their guns were ready to fire. Enough to take out a few of the Orthodoxy ships should they need to.

Tyderium wrote:

"Securing loyalty, namely." The admiral took a cigar from his pocket and lit it. "And dealing with an eventual guerilla war. I theorize there are still numerous reactionary elements in the army, even on this ship. They will no doubt group up and destabilize the new government in some way, shape, or form." The admiral blew smoke to his side, as to not hit the Furudians.

"I understand." She paused, thinking. The Commonwealth would have no trouble providing funds for the admiral in his war. Yet, she knew it could not take the bill on entirely. Not to mention the length of the war would also impact her country's willingness to provide financial and perhaps even military aid to the admiral and his forces. She took another sip of the whiskey he had given her to buy some more time before responding. Once finished, she had her answer.

"We will be able to provide funds, yes. For how long? I cannot say. Years most likely, but no longer than five. I'm sure you will also need weapons and the training for them as well at least until you can replenish your forces on your own." An idea began to form in her mind, "however, we could provide more financial assistance if you were to allow us to take control of mines, refineries, and farms we could use the profits gained and reinvest it into your war. With a small amount going to our pockets. Unless your emperor is willing to fire upon Commonwealth forces, then of course our aid could be more direct."

Furud wrote:

Immediately pain rushed to the lead admiral's temple as she tried to make sense of the situation. Red blood poured from her nose and onto her black uniform, leaving a dark stain hard to observe from a distance away. She looked from her left to her right. All around the bridge crewmembers were suffering the same debilitating ailment. Men and women held their temples, screaming and moaning. One man even began to claw at his eyes. Blood trailed from where his fingernails had raked over his skin.

Summoning her strength, Admiral Miller finally staggered over to the communications terminal. "Cease this attack or we will fire upon your ships flesh-horror." She cared not if she insulted whatever mass of biomatter commanded the Orthodoxy fleets, only that it stopped. Did they forget they sent an envoy to us? She thought to herself, her mind splintering with pain. It was hard to think with such a pressure in her head. It felt as though someone was giving her a lobotomy, scrambling her brain-matter into tiny chunks. "Prepare to fire," She said. Whether all of her gunnery-officers heard her she couldn't tell. A few spoke their guns were ready to fire. Enough to take out a few of the Orthodoxy ships should they need to.

The pressure withdraws as soon as it had arrived. The smaller bioform on the bridge appears almost apologetic. "The wider Overmind fails to comprehend the psychic fragility of your race." The voice echoing within the Admiral's skull is far more tinny, a whisper in comparison to the booming shriek of the larger psychic creature. "For this, you have my condolences. No harm was meant."