I mean yes, if we don't get that then what's the point of the quest
Attempting to Fulfill the Plan: GDI Edition
- Pronouns
- He/Him
"You've spent too long on Earth, Kane," Carter sneered, his voice thick with savage delight. With a twisted grin, he slammed the Space Armor into a sharp pirouette, narrowly dodging a searing green beam from Kane's Avatar's particle caster. The engines howled with blue fire, thrusters kicking out in a brilliant flare as the sickly beam whizzed past. "While you were stuck scheming, I was perfecting my moves in zero-G. You might call me an old man, but how long's it been since you felt the void, huh? Millennia, I'd wager."
"You may possess the edge in raw skill, Carter," Kane's voice dripped with contemptuous calm, each word a calculated insult. He extended the force blade from his Avatar's right hand with the ease of a master, the energy blade crackling and twisting with violent red energy, its hum sharp and angry. With a fluid, practiced motion, he swung it in a perfect arc, his movements deliberate with the confidence of a seasoned swordman. The blade effortlessly met the blast from the Space Armor's shoulder-mounted ion cannon, deflecting it.
He paused, the gaze of his Avatar locking onto Carter's white Space Armor, his voice low and deliberate. "Skill alone is nothing, Director. It is but a tool, a fleeting advantage if not tempered by experience and wisdom." The forceblade hummed as it settled into his grip, its red glow casting a predatory light across the Avatar's surface. "I may not move as swiftly as I once did, but make no mistake, I have fought these battles more times than you could possibly comprehend. You speak of skill, but it is experience, the scars of a thousand campaigns, that grants true mastery."
"You may possess the edge in raw skill, Carter," Kane's voice dripped with contemptuous calm, each word a calculated insult. He extended the force blade from his Avatar's right hand with the ease of a master, the energy blade crackling and twisting with violent red energy, its hum sharp and angry. With a fluid, practiced motion, he swung it in a perfect arc, his movements deliberate with the confidence of a seasoned swordman. The blade effortlessly met the blast from the Space Armor's shoulder-mounted ion cannon, deflecting it.
He paused, the gaze of his Avatar locking onto Carter's white Space Armor, his voice low and deliberate. "Skill alone is nothing, Director. It is but a tool, a fleeting advantage if not tempered by experience and wisdom." The forceblade hummed as it settled into his grip, its red glow casting a predatory light across the Avatar's surface. "I may not move as swiftly as I once did, but make no mistake, I have fought these battles more times than you could possibly comprehend. You speak of skill, but it is experience, the scars of a thousand campaigns, that grants true mastery."
.......- the general response from the gdi and nod people who at the meeting having to wait though a 5 hour long pvp game session between the two leaders.
- Location
- Mid-Atlantic
"Honestly, this is way more satisfying than the crap we've been going through for most of the past seventy years."
Nottheunmaker
Altman be praised
- Location
- USG Ishimura
This actually makes sense to me. Once we start the ME sequel quest, space battles are going to be a thing, and the Steel Talons will need to develop mechs suitable for such battles. The question is if we're developing something like a mobile suit or an armored core.
I know we're currently on a more battlemech path, but come on! At least a few absurdly high performance machines!
I know we're currently on a more battlemech path, but come on! At least a few absurdly high performance machines!
Dmol8
The Undead Unhinged Lunatic of the Web
- Location
- Belgrade,Serbia
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
Wait are we going for the canon ME? Or are we going to be flying up into some of the unfulfilled potential of ME? Cause Reapers are two very different things depending on which ME setting the crossover ends up happening in.
KnightDisciple
Love God. Do Right. Fear No Man.
- Location
- Midwest, USA
Steel Talons are exceedingly unlikely to push for "space mechs". Even as a Mech fan I won't, as I don't think they quite fit the rest of our aesthetic. Orbital Drop Shock Mechs is good, though.
Nottheunmaker
Altman be praised
- Location
- USG Ishimura
I can't argue the aesthetic, especially on the ME side. I'd just hope to see something in the space battles besides ships, fighters, and drones.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Guys please dont pretend this is anything more than a high quality shitpost
Nottheunmaker
Altman be praised
- Location
- USG Ishimura
I can dream
Dmol8
The Undead Unhinged Lunatic of the Web
- Location
- Belgrade,Serbia
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
So was the original Space Side Quest and look at where that got us.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
I don't think SCEDQuest had that large of an impact on the Quest. The biggest thing is probably that the Interstellar Expedition is actually now in planning.
Dmol8
The Undead Unhinged Lunatic of the Web
- Location
- Belgrade,Serbia
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
In crunch it just gave us an Action on its own and served as the level below the main quest to give us granularity in the development of our space infrastructure. In fluff it was half the story of our Orbital Department developing into what it is here at the end of the quest.
- Location
- Middle Europe
High quality shitpost oftend becomes deepest lore.
KnightDisciple
Love God. Do Right. Fear No Man.
- Location
- Midwest, USA
As a fellow mech enjoyer I don't like breaking your heart, but that's how it's gonna go down.
"Canon ME" itself is a very wide range, and there will be a number of aspects that are being nudged, tweaked, altered, armbarred, or just added to in order to make things work or fill out stuff that wasn't addressed. In general, don't assume your personal reading of canon is correct, and don't be surprised when spaces that weren't described in the games have things that look mostly like elements from some other setting.
...but don't expect to see space fighters that look like mechs as a commonplace thing.
(There's always going to be That Guy who had one made custom, though.)
Excuse you! I would make a flying tank. Not a flying mech.
You'd be That Other Guy, from this perspective.
That will depend on several factors, IIRC. At least one of which is probably a certain amount of random chance.
Strunkriidiisk
THE LEGEND
- Location
- Canada
- Pronouns
- He/Him
TBH unless Ithillid decides Earth is somewhere else in the galaxy, we're going to be pretty close to the batarians regardless. The random chance was in who we'd run into first, agnostic of that.
Epilogue, Part 1: A Meeting of Minds
- Location
- The Underdark
GDIquest Epilogue
Part 1: A Meeting of Minds
Kane's ship soared into the heavens, born aloft by an unseen force. It was an odd thing for the Brotherhood, a creature of deep reds and brilliant, eye searing whites. A saucer, flanked by two outboard pods. It rose higher and higher, passing above the clouds and the ion storms and lightning raging inside them, above the layer of angelic white covering the dying earth below. The moment it did, the thousand all-seeing eyes of the Eagle perceived it, monitoring its course, lenses whirred into focus, EVA's hummed in their circuits, radar and visual inputs feeding into their systems, manned and automated systems endlessly calculating firing solutions for the hundreds of orbital weapon systems built for the express purpose to maintain GDI space superiority. Lasers and railgun, ion cannons and kinetic interceptors, in quantities to turn anything daring to poke above the clouds without authorization into dust and rubble.
But they did not fire. The ASAT operators watched as the strange vessel continued on its course, carrying an important guest. It rose higher yet, passing by orbital defenses, it matched velocities with the metallic flower that was Enterprise station, as a docking tube extended. Standard Initiative port mating procedures, and, with a series of clicks, it latched itself to the hull.
At the hatch, a tall, pale skinned bald man, clad in robes of black stepped through. Kane himself. There were no bodyguards, no soldiers, merely a man, with supreme confidence striding into the heart of his enemy's power.
. . .
What would one day become the most important diplomatic talks in centuries were held in a room that hardly seemed worthy of such a momentous occasion. It was one of many utilitarian meeting rooms aboard the Enterprise, where work managers and foremen typically discussed shift rotations or took brief moments for a cup of tea. Now, these same unremarkable tables, hastily arranged in a u-shape, played host to a meeting that could reshape the destiny of the world. The section of the station had been meticulously cleared of all unauthorized personnel, leaving only the highest-ranking GDI officials seated at the tables: the now acting Director Carter, Hacket, chief of InOps, Seo, GDI's treasury secretary and Litinov, the former Director on her way out. Their faces were a careful blend of neutrality, skepticism, and barely concealed disdain as they fixed their gaze upon the tall, bald man at their center.
Kane.
To sit across from him was to confront the specter that had haunted humanity for decades. He was the architect of wars that had scarred the Earth, the prophet who had drenched the world in blood and despair. Yet now, with an inscrutable smile and eyes that seemed to pierce through to the soul, Kane held in his hands something extraordinary, a luminous orb, pulsing faintly, the Tacitus. Within it lay the knowledge to master Tiberium, the plague that had reshaped life itself.
"Thank you for allowing me into your halls," Kane began, his voice rich with practiced elegance. It resonated with an unsettling charisma, commanding the room as if he were addressing disciples rather than adversaries. "I am, after all, a guest you never imagined would stand within these walls. Yet, I have hosted Hackett before."
Through the wide viewport, the Earth spun slowly, a wounded blue-green orb marred by dark veins of Tiberium. It seemed almost muted, a grim shadow of the vibrant planet it once was.
Kane's eyes shifted, absorbing the officials' expressions before continuing. "As I mentioned earlier, I come with an offer, a means to command Tiberium, to harness it for the prosperity of all, so that humanity might once again become the gardeners of this world, not its scavengers."
Hacket's voice, sharp and wary, cut through the room. "And what is your price? We know you too well, Kane. You don't deal in altruism."
Kane's smile deepened, a subtle curve that hinted at omniscience. "What I seek," he said, his tone dropping to a near whisper, drawing everyone in, "is peace. A chance to begin again. For me, for my children. And, if you have the vision to see it, for GDI itself."
The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the creak of a chair as Director Carter pushed himself up to stand. Age had bent him slightly, lined his face with years of burden, but there was no mistaking the iron will that kept him upright.
"Fuck you, Kane," Carter growled, raw and unsparing.
Gasps rippled around the room, some of the officials exchanging anxious glances. The air crackled with tension as eyes darted to Kane, waiting for a reaction.
Kane merely arched an eyebrow, an amused glint in his eye as he pulled the Tacitus slightly closer, the orb casting strange shadows across his face. "Director," he said, his voice as smooth as silk, "the language of a soldier, not a statesman. But I expected nothing less." He leaned forward slightly, eyes locked with Carter's. "Good. Then I will preface that you will understand that threats, however colorful, are empty here. I did not come unprepared. Only a fool walks into a lion's den without a plan. And we both know, Carter, that you are not foolish enough to test me."
Carter walked around the table, the tension in his steps palpable. "I am the Director of GDI. I will do what I want," he said, voice growing more resolute. "And I am not one of those career politicians or bureaucrats. I am not going to mince words or pretend I tolerate your presence here. The reason why the ten commandos on standby two rooms over aren't swarming this place to confiscate the Tacitus and haul you off to some lab where I'll have you cut into very thin slices for study is because my duty is to humanity. I will consider your offer. But don't think for a moment that I'm blinded by it."
A shadow of admiration flickered in Kane's eyes, a glimmer as fleeting as it was profound. "Crude, but honest," Kane said, his tone dropping into something almost reverential. "In other men, I might have found that admirable. But do not mistake your bravado for leverage, Director. I have dealt with men like you in every age, ambitious, driven, cloaked in the nobility of service. I am the one holding the keys here. If you wish to build a legacy, cast aside the empty threats. Accept the path I am offering, or let history carve its epitaph."
Carter came to a stop directly in front of Kane, glaring down at him. "Maybe I am just brave enough to test you."
"Then do and see the outcome," Kane said, his voice final and unyielding. "But know this: this moment is not about power. It is about vision. And only one of us has seen the future clearly."
Carter narrowed his eyes, taking a single step closer to Kane. The room felt like a coiled spring, tension vibrating through the air. "Is it real?" he asked, nodding at the Tacitus.
Kane's eyes met his, unblinking, the steady pulse of the orb reflected in his irises. "Yes," he said, his voice still velvet-smooth but carrying a hint of metal. "The true artifact. Not a replica, not a shadow of its potential, but the genuine key to humanity's future."
Carter let the confirmation hang in the air for a moment. "Is it stable?" he pressed, his tone low, probing.
A slight inclination of Kane's head. "Perfectly. Its secrets, though vast, are now as safe as they have ever been. It is a gift, one I have nurtured through-"
There was a flicker of something in Carter's eyes, something unreadable, dangerous. Without warning, he swept his hand forward to slap the Tacitus from Kane's grasp. Kane flinched, pulling it close, away from Carter and closer to his chest, protective, concerned.
A ripple of shock coursed through the room. Kane's eyes darkened as he realized he had been had, the Director's hand having stopped long before it could have delivered the glowing orb tumbling to the ground, a brief flash of indignation tightening his features that he had fallen for a feint. Carter returned his hands behind his back. He exhaled slowly, his jaw clenched for a heartbeat too long before he forced a thin smile. The room watched
Kane fixed Carter with a look that could pierce stone. The anger was there now, simmering behind the mask of civility. His voice dropped, carrying in it the weight of ages and the barely-contained wrath of a man who had seen empires rise and fall. "Juvenile," he began, each syllable rolling out with the precision of a guillotine blade. "Crass. To think that you, a self-styled protector of humanity, would stoop to such pathetic theatrics. Do you know what this is, Director? What you so recklessly motioned to cast to the ground?"
He took a step forward, the Tacitus cradled protectively in his hands now, its glow bathing his fingers. "This is not merely a trinket. It is the collected wisdom of those who came before us, those who walked paths you cannot even begin to imagine. It is knowledge that could salvage your world or condemn it to endless ruin. And yet, you toy with it, a child kicking stones, blissfully unaware of what they are made of."
Kane's eyes gleamed with barely restrained fury, though his voice stayed low, measured. "Let me remind you, Carter, that power and legacy are earned, not seized through bluster and bravado. You wish to test me? You wish to challenge the will that has reshaped history itself?" He drew in a sharp breath, steadying himself.
The silence in the room crackled like a live wire, charged and dangerous. Carter's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing into steely slits. He took a half-step closer back to Kane, voice biting as he spoke. "You're going to apologize, Kane."
Kane arched an eyebrow, the faintest trace of amusement shadowing his lips. "Apologize? And for what, precisely, Director? For your wounded pride? Or perhaps your insistence on turning this negotiation into a spectacle?" His tone dripped with sarcasm, subtly mocking Carter's need for dominance.
Carter's hand shot out, pointing past Kane and toward the viewport where the Earth spun, scarred by veins of emerald Tiberium that cut across continents like a blight. "For that," Carter hissed, the word laced with raw anger. "For calling the Scrin here."
A shift in Kane's expression, something dark, almost imperceptible. His eyes followed the line of Carter's finger, taking in the sight of the mutilated planet, then returning to meet the Director's fierce glare. He tilted his head, lips parting as if in contemplation before speaking with the calm precision of a scholar correcting an errant pupil. "The Scrin? No, Director. They are the Visitors. That is their true-"
"Enough!" Carter's shout cut him off, reverberating against the metal walls. The room tensed, every official present leaning forward as though caught in the pull of a magnetic force.
Kane's smile faded, leaving behind a mask as unreadable as it was ominous. He adjusted his stance, standing tall once more, and let out a slow, almost condescending sigh. "Very well," he said, each word deliberate, measured. "If my words are what you seek, then let them carry the weight you so desperately desire." He paused, eyes flickering over Carter, the people behind him, and then to the Earth, bruised and battered beneath them.
"I regret," Kane intoned, his voice deep and rich, each syllable chosen with care, "the consequences of what was set in motion, the trials that came upon this world when the Visitors arrived. It is true that in the pursuit of salvation, I summoned forces that wrought untold suffering. And for that," he inclined his head, ever so slightly, eyes locking with Carter's, "I acknowledge your grievance."
Carter allowed a thin smile to curl on his lips, his posture relaxing as he walked over to the viewport to look at Earth turning below. He clasped his hands behind his back, the silence in the room a testament to his victory. The officials around the table exchanged cautious glances, the tension having shifted ever so slightly in GDI's favor.
Kane straightened, his grip on the Tacitus firm. The brief flash of anger had dulled, replaced by a cold, calculated glint in his eyes. He inclined his head, the gesture almost respectful, but his words sliced through the room with subtle venom. "I see, Director," he began, his tone smooth as a serpent's coil, "that this display was not merely for your benefit. No, you needed them", he glanced around, eyes flickering over each GDI official with practiced ease. "to see that you could draw blood from the infamous 'Messiah' of the Brotherhood."
He took a step forward, the Tacitus glowing softly in his hands, a beacon of both promise and menace. "A show of strength, a reminder of your command over even GDI's most storied adversary. But tell me, Carter, does this ritual of yours give you peace? Does it soothe the shadows that haunt your conscience when you look down at that?" He nodded toward the viewport, where Earth spun.
Kane's smile was razor-thin, cutting and knowing. "Or perhaps it's a balm for your own doubts. After all, the greatest leaders don't need to humiliate, they lead by showing their vision, not their anger."
Carter's shoulders lifted in a casual shrug, his expression unreadable as he looked away from them. His voice, edged with cold certainty, echoed through the room. "You want to see my vision, Kane, look outside. You are in my domain. GDI's domain. Earth's orbit, where our flags mark the horizon and our steel holds the sky, where mankind's true future lies. Yet here you are, crawling to us because, for once, you need something."
Kane tilted his head, eyes narrowing with a hint of amusement. "The future?" he echoed, his voice laced with mockery. "Yes, perhaps for you, Director, for you and the sanctified inhabitants who grew up in the Blue Zones of decades past, swathed in GDI's iron embrace, shielded by the omnipresent eyes of your orbital sentinels, comforted by the blade forever poised above them. Those with the comfort and resources to dream. But what of those outside your bastions of order? To the souls left clawing for survival, scraping through days measured by hunger and the encroachment of the crystal, the skies above are not and might never be a beacon of hope, but the unyielding heel of GDI's boot, a sentiment that still remains even among those you have taken into your embrace. They remember each ion cannon strike launched in pacification operations. You wielded GDI's sword more than once yourself, raining down judgment from the heavens, from your high ground, where the cost of soldiers was deemed too high, or unnecessary."
He paused, letting the room steep in the uncomfortable truth of his words. There was a flash in Kane's eyes, irritation tempered by his iron will, quickly eclipsed by the curve of a practiced smile. "But enough of that," he continued, voice smooth as polished stone. "I come with an offer of peace, Director. Salvation from the relentless, untamed surge of Tiberium. A way to subdue its chaos, harness its boundless energy, and transform it from humanity's scourge to humanity's gift. So that instead of fleeing from the garden, we may yet learn to cultivate it."
Carter cut him off, voice ironclad. "Salvation from Tiberium lies not on Earth, but starbound. In the domed cities of Mars and the subterranean metropoli of Luna, in the sprawling habitats carved out of moons and asteroids. Far outside the reach of your green plague, where its touch cannot reach."
A shadow passed over Kane's face, fleeting but undeniable. He let a moment of silence draw out, the hum of the station filling the void before his voice slithered back in, calm yet insistent. "Evacuation, Director, is a lofty dream. One that will abandon tens millions to the encroaching tendrils of Tiberium. You know as well as I that the rot beneath the Earth's crust will not be content to stay buried. You may keep the surface clean for a time, but it will dig deeper until the whole fruit turns. Earth is a ticking clock, striking closer to midnight with each breath we take."
The room grew heavier, officials exchanging wary glances, their apprehensions laid bare. Carter's still stared outside. "Maybe, but whatever grand solution you're selling, Kane, needs to be considered worth it by me and everyone in this room." He turned around, eyes swept the assembly of GDI's highest-ranking officials, each of them marked by the scars of years fighting the very enemy that Kane had helped unleash. "We're past gestures of peace and reconciliation. There's too much blood on your hands for that." He leaned forward, voice dropping into a low, dangerous tone. "Make your case, and we'll see if it's worth listening to."
Kane moved with deliberate precision, producing a small, ornately adorned stand from the depths of his black coat. Intricate runes shimmered along its surface, catching the cold light of the chamber as he set it on the table before him, a simple nameplate on it simply reading: "Kane." With a reverence bordering on the sacred, he placed the Tacitus atop the stand, fingers lingering on the ancient artifact as if it were an extension of himself. Its ethereal glow reflected in his eyes before he withdrew his touch and sat down, shifting his gaze first to Carter, then to the silent assembly.
Hacket sat back, arms crossed, a sly grin pulling at his lips as his eyes flicked between Kane and Carter. Seo, ever the calculated academic, appeared neutral, fingers folded and refolded, wanting to speak but restraining himself. Only Litinov seemed outwardly tense, stealing nervous glances at Carter before lowering her gaze to avoid eye contact with Kane.
"I know you are all educated, thoughtful people," Kane began, his voice smooth yet edged with an undercurrent of menace. "Are you truly impressed by such displays? Such theatrics?"
Hacket leaned forward, his grin widening into something sharp and predatory. "As he said, he's the Director," he remarked. "He'll do what he wants. And, truth be told, it was satisfying to see you rattled. No offense."
"None taken," Kane replied, his eyes never leaving Carter, a flicker of something darker dancing within them.
Seo shifted, his fingers finding a moment of calm. "This meeting is an unusual situation," hw began, his voice steady. "As a man of science, I respect your intellect, even admire it. But let's not pretend. I understand the Director's position and his conduct, unorthodox as it may be. You've caused untold suffering and atrocities. You're a war criminal and more, an alien , something worthy of study as much as anything you present today. Don't doubt for a moment that Carter's talk of slicing you thin was anything less than a statement of fact. While I am curious to hear the details of your proposed solution to Tiberium, I have no illusions as to what you are."
"And who, exactly, would that be?" Kane asked, his voice dripping with feigned innocence.
"An enemy," Hacket said, leaning back again. "The personification of the Brotherhood,"
"And GDI is my enemy, the force that has always stood in the path of my vision. Yet here I sit, in the very fortress of that adversary, offering peace. Time marches on, the hour glass empties. Yet here I am, the greater man, willing to set aside the past for the sake of humanity. How long must this charade continue? How long must I endure your scorn before we begin what must be done?" His gaze swept the room. "The sons and daughters of Nod are just as human as those you swore to protect. Must we be adversaries forever, even now?"
"Nod is not our enemy," Litinov finally spoke, her voice steady but conflicted. "No one in this room is under any illusions about the timeline Tiberium has imposed on Earth and the need for cooperation, however difficult. No child should perish at the hands of Tiberium, not under the flag of Nod or GDI. At the end of the day, Nod's motivations are human. But you, Kane, your true intentions remain a mystery. Even I question your motive for this gesture."
Carter, eyes fixed on the expanse outside, spoke, sharp. "This petty war over Earth's surface? It's a mere distraction, a footnote in an arc of history so long none of us will live to see its end. My true enemy is Tiberium, the plague rewriting the world under our feet. My true enemy is you, Kane, for the chaos you've sown. But above all, my greatest enemy is the Scrin." The room seemed to tighten with his words, the silence deepened by the soft hum of the air recyclers. "They are the only war that matters. The alien invaders who tore open our skies and showed us what lies beyond, a harbinger of extinction so absolute that it renders all our struggles insignificant. And they will return. Of that, I am certain. And when they do, it won't matter who rules the uninhabitable wastes of Earth. Mankind's future is starbound, a belief I have lobbied for all my life, but there is a catch."
Carter's tone grew icier. "I remember when I was young, standing on the observation deck of the first Philadelphia as a fresh faced officer. I looked up and felt awe, a naive, boundless wonder at the promise of the stars. They were a symbol of hope, of humanity's potential, a future free of the shadows of war and Tiberium. But age, Kane, age has a way of stripping illusions away, one unforgiving layer at a time. Now when I look up, I see only threats. Each star is an enemy, each glimmer a reminder of what nearly brought us to our knees. We dared to ask if we were alone, and the universe answered. Twice. And both answers were drenched in blood."
He turned around to look at Kane. "Do you know what it does to a man, Kane, to stand beneath the infinite and see only the graves of the dreams he once cherished? To understand that every battle we fight, every victory we claim, might be for nothing more than to buy time before they find us again? The Scrin are out there, waiting, calculating. We are but insects under the cosmic gaze of gods who neither know nor care about us. The stars no longer inspire, they haunt."
"So yes, Kane, you are my enemy. But even more so, so is every flickering light in that sky, each one a beacon of potential annihilation. Against that, our feud is meaningless. My true enemy is whatever waits out there, poised to destroy us like we never existed. And for that enemy, we will need to prepare. Because when they come, we will need to be more than divided remnants. We will need to be one humanity, all children of Earth united in purpose. So make no mistake: whatever we do here, whatever games you play, it must serve that singular war. Because when the sky tears open again, there will be no time left for rivalry, only survival. My grievances with you are vented. We may begin."
Barely perceptible and hidden by the hands folded in front of his face, Kane smiled.
. . .
"The most straightforward approach," The Messiah began, his voice smooth and deliberate, "would be a global resonance cascade, an immense network built to ultimately emit a single, unified pulse. Imagine the effect of a Tiberium refinery, magnified and synchronized across the entire planet. Every trace of Tiberium, converted in an instant into stable baryonic matter." He paused, the glow of the Tacitus reflecting in his eyes. "It would solve your Tiberium problem, yes. But it would also leave this world reeling, your civilisation bereft of its most important resource, scrambling to fill the void left behind. A global crisis to replace a global plague. It is the path most aligned with my past...but there are other paths. More promising paths. Paths we could forge together, with the time GDI has bought pushing the inevitable back just a little longer."
With a slow, deliberate motion, Kane swept his hand across the table, scattering small pyramidal stones like seeds. He turned his palm upward, and a shimmering projection of Earth rose before them, rotating lazily in the air. "Consider a more elegant solution. More enduring, more visionary. I call it the Mantle Complex. A system not built to erase Tiberium, but to command it. A network, vast, stretching across the surface of the Earth, while Tiberium itself is locked away, buried deep beneath our feet, its raw potential siphoned and controlled, imprisoned beneath the surface." He gestured toward the globe, and the projection shifted, revealing a brilliant network of tendrils sinking into the planet's crust. "With this system, the danger of Tiberium remains locked away, far beneath the surface, while its potential, its energy, flows freely to you. Unrestricted, pure. Resources at your fingertips, a controlled, limitless source of strength. Order imposed upon disorder."
Kane's eyes gleamed as he made another gesture, sweeping his arm wide across his chest. The projection shifted, and a series of luminous orbital platforms appeared encircling the equator like a halo. "And then, for those with vision, for those who dare reach beyond mere survival, there are the orbital forges. The future forges of human ingenuity, the crown of this garden of Eden, capable of crafting wonders from the very ichor that once threatened to undo it. Tiberium, repurposed into boundless possibility. With technical collaboration and shared purpose, these forges could become beacons, a warm light for all mankind. The choice, as always, lies in your hands."
Carter's eyes darkened as he leaned forward, tapping the table with a slow, deliberate rhythm that seemed to punctuate each word. "I assume you're already aware of the little green problem we've encountered on Venus," he said, the corners of his mouth tightening. "Got a solution for that?"
Kane's expression shifted subtly. "Ah, the Morning Star. I have heard whispers of Tiberium's spread to Venus, yes. Your GDI, Director, is like a vessel perpetually leaking, a steady drip of secrets. But I digress," he said, the mockery curling at the edge of his voice. "I am aware, but the precise manner in which Tiberium has evolved under Venus's searing conditions remained out of my reach. GDI has kept those finer details under lock and key." He paused, letting the tension settle before continuing, eyes flickering with the glimmer of calculation. "Without direct study, I cannot speak with certainty. However, it is possible. This construct before you, derived from the Threshold Tower, can produce a series of targeted effects. Creating additional structures for such purposes would not be, shall we say, exceptionally difficult. Costly, of course, but a resonance cascade design wouldn't require the construction to withstand Venus's hellish environment."
Carter's finger tapping ceased, eyes narrowing as he took in Kane's words. The silence between them was heavy, charged. Kane's expression lightened. "But let me offer you this caution, Director: If you choose to harness the ichor's boundless potential, know this, you may attempt to bend it to your will, but it shall always weave its tendrils through your fate. Tiberium is no servant, it is a master that whispers promises as it tightens its grip."
—
Seo's attention was equally divided between Kane, the holoprojection and the technical data package Kane had sent to his pad, eyes darting back and forth as he spoke, excitement creeping into his voice. "All of these proposals should be possible, despite the global scale. I am not worrying about the amount of foundational infrastructure that will need to be built, nor setting up manufacturing lines for the more advance components. STU demand will be high, but within our expected production rates, especially if we can tap into reserve capacity. From a quick glance, our biggest problem is time, and behind that, likely to be specialized personnel if we want construction to progress with the speed proposed."
"Rest assured, Doctor," Kane's lips curled into a knowing smile as he swept a hand through the air with practiced elegance. "I have not idled away in my ivory tower in solitude. The minds most devoted to my cause have been meticulously prepared for this endeavor, each versed in the intricacies of this engineering feat. And as for the others, the Brotherhood's brightest? They will rally behind this ambition, should I choose the right words to inspire them."
"And can we trust them?" Hackett interjected, his voice laced with skepticism. "I'd rather not contend with sabotage from within."
Kane's eyes glimmered with something between amusement and challenge. "Ah, trust, a commodity always in short supply within the hallowed halls of GDI." He allowed a pause, savoring the weight of his next words. "That hinges on your willingness to accept that even those who carry the banner of Nod have their reasons to cooperate. Not blind fanaticism, but a stark awareness of the stakes. You see, they know well that GDI's ambitions have already cast their gaze starward, to sanctuaries untouchable by Tiberium's green grasp. Meanwhile, the Brotherhood faces a fate anchored to this rotting Eden, unless they prostrate themselves beneath the boot of our dear Director to give up their arms and ambitions," Kane said, glancing pointedly at Carter. "Self-preservation, gentlemen and -woman, can be a powerful unifier."
"And what of afterwards", Litinov cut in, eyes alight. "Once the pressure of extinction has worn off. What then?"
"A profound question indeed. Will the war, mankind's most enduring companion, rise once more when ambition eclipses mere survival? Or will this moment, this rare lesson in unity, etch a final chapter in which the children of Earth transcended their divisions for a cause greater than themselves? I am skeptical of the latter, but knowing you, I suspect you would dare to try."
"I don't need a lecture, Kane," Hackett scoffed. "Your little cult, the Brotherhood of Nod, your attack dogs, will either need to be muzzled or put down. We can't construct this wonder while constantly watching our backs."
"I agree," Carter said, a hard edge in his voice, as he crossed his arms.
"They will obey, to a point," Kane replied smoothly. "They need me, need the gifts, my leadership, my vision, my blessing, all I alone can bestow. Yes, there will be those whose madness drives them to snap at whatever hand reaches out. That, Commander, has always been the nature of humanity."
"That might not be enough," Hackett countered, skepticism darkening his expression. "There are too many wounds for us to rely solely on your assurances."
"There are wounds enough on both sides," Litvinov interjected, voice measured. "If we are to work together, this may well be the moment to forge a peace that holds. Conduct tribunals, ensure accountability for every scar we've given and received."
What would follow were hours upon hours of tense negotiations, oftentimes contentious.
Key Terms
Pick three key terms
[ ] Tiberium Control Network Effect
There are two designs seriously proposed by Kane, a basic and advanced model. While both will work to contain and control tiberium, the advanced model offers a future of industrial and energetic plenty in a way that the basic does not.
[ ] Subordination of the Brotherhood of Nod
While GDI and the Brotherhood will have to work together to build the Tiberium Control Network, the nature of that relationship is one that will have to be decided. Subordinating the Brotherhood into Initiative structures will make few people happy, but it will mean that an outbreak of conflict will be much more difficult in the aftermath of the Tiberium Control Network being completed.
[ ] Construction Share Ratio
While GDI will have to take the lion's share of the construction effort, simply because of its operational scale, forcing the Brotherhood to take on additional duties and industrial commitments will free some Initiative resources to achieve other goals, while limiting the ability of the Brotherhood to fund shenanigans.
[ ] Technology Exchange
Kane has mastery of a number of fields of knowledge that humanity has only scratched the surface of. While pressuring him is difficult, he may well be willing to offer a number of technological data packages to help sweeten the pot.
[ ] Truth and Reconciliation
After four major global wars, and over a half century of chronic low level fighting, there are a massive array of existing grievances, on both sides, ranging from bad calls, to intentional war crimes. While sorting through them will be the work of decades, bilateral and multilateral commissions will help smooth down some of the more egregious burrs.
Coauthored by @BOTcommander
A/N1: Two hours to discuss before voting begins
A/N2: Ko-fi.com/ithillid if anyone cares to help out.
Part 1: A Meeting of Minds
Kane's ship soared into the heavens, born aloft by an unseen force. It was an odd thing for the Brotherhood, a creature of deep reds and brilliant, eye searing whites. A saucer, flanked by two outboard pods. It rose higher and higher, passing above the clouds and the ion storms and lightning raging inside them, above the layer of angelic white covering the dying earth below. The moment it did, the thousand all-seeing eyes of the Eagle perceived it, monitoring its course, lenses whirred into focus, EVA's hummed in their circuits, radar and visual inputs feeding into their systems, manned and automated systems endlessly calculating firing solutions for the hundreds of orbital weapon systems built for the express purpose to maintain GDI space superiority. Lasers and railgun, ion cannons and kinetic interceptors, in quantities to turn anything daring to poke above the clouds without authorization into dust and rubble.
But they did not fire. The ASAT operators watched as the strange vessel continued on its course, carrying an important guest. It rose higher yet, passing by orbital defenses, it matched velocities with the metallic flower that was Enterprise station, as a docking tube extended. Standard Initiative port mating procedures, and, with a series of clicks, it latched itself to the hull.
At the hatch, a tall, pale skinned bald man, clad in robes of black stepped through. Kane himself. There were no bodyguards, no soldiers, merely a man, with supreme confidence striding into the heart of his enemy's power.
. . .
What would one day become the most important diplomatic talks in centuries were held in a room that hardly seemed worthy of such a momentous occasion. It was one of many utilitarian meeting rooms aboard the Enterprise, where work managers and foremen typically discussed shift rotations or took brief moments for a cup of tea. Now, these same unremarkable tables, hastily arranged in a u-shape, played host to a meeting that could reshape the destiny of the world. The section of the station had been meticulously cleared of all unauthorized personnel, leaving only the highest-ranking GDI officials seated at the tables: the now acting Director Carter, Hacket, chief of InOps, Seo, GDI's treasury secretary and Litinov, the former Director on her way out. Their faces were a careful blend of neutrality, skepticism, and barely concealed disdain as they fixed their gaze upon the tall, bald man at their center.
Kane.
To sit across from him was to confront the specter that had haunted humanity for decades. He was the architect of wars that had scarred the Earth, the prophet who had drenched the world in blood and despair. Yet now, with an inscrutable smile and eyes that seemed to pierce through to the soul, Kane held in his hands something extraordinary, a luminous orb, pulsing faintly, the Tacitus. Within it lay the knowledge to master Tiberium, the plague that had reshaped life itself.
"Thank you for allowing me into your halls," Kane began, his voice rich with practiced elegance. It resonated with an unsettling charisma, commanding the room as if he were addressing disciples rather than adversaries. "I am, after all, a guest you never imagined would stand within these walls. Yet, I have hosted Hackett before."
Through the wide viewport, the Earth spun slowly, a wounded blue-green orb marred by dark veins of Tiberium. It seemed almost muted, a grim shadow of the vibrant planet it once was.
Kane's eyes shifted, absorbing the officials' expressions before continuing. "As I mentioned earlier, I come with an offer, a means to command Tiberium, to harness it for the prosperity of all, so that humanity might once again become the gardeners of this world, not its scavengers."
Hacket's voice, sharp and wary, cut through the room. "And what is your price? We know you too well, Kane. You don't deal in altruism."
Kane's smile deepened, a subtle curve that hinted at omniscience. "What I seek," he said, his tone dropping to a near whisper, drawing everyone in, "is peace. A chance to begin again. For me, for my children. And, if you have the vision to see it, for GDI itself."
The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the creak of a chair as Director Carter pushed himself up to stand. Age had bent him slightly, lined his face with years of burden, but there was no mistaking the iron will that kept him upright.
"Fuck you, Kane," Carter growled, raw and unsparing.
Gasps rippled around the room, some of the officials exchanging anxious glances. The air crackled with tension as eyes darted to Kane, waiting for a reaction.
Kane merely arched an eyebrow, an amused glint in his eye as he pulled the Tacitus slightly closer, the orb casting strange shadows across his face. "Director," he said, his voice as smooth as silk, "the language of a soldier, not a statesman. But I expected nothing less." He leaned forward slightly, eyes locked with Carter's. "Good. Then I will preface that you will understand that threats, however colorful, are empty here. I did not come unprepared. Only a fool walks into a lion's den without a plan. And we both know, Carter, that you are not foolish enough to test me."
Carter walked around the table, the tension in his steps palpable. "I am the Director of GDI. I will do what I want," he said, voice growing more resolute. "And I am not one of those career politicians or bureaucrats. I am not going to mince words or pretend I tolerate your presence here. The reason why the ten commandos on standby two rooms over aren't swarming this place to confiscate the Tacitus and haul you off to some lab where I'll have you cut into very thin slices for study is because my duty is to humanity. I will consider your offer. But don't think for a moment that I'm blinded by it."
A shadow of admiration flickered in Kane's eyes, a glimmer as fleeting as it was profound. "Crude, but honest," Kane said, his tone dropping into something almost reverential. "In other men, I might have found that admirable. But do not mistake your bravado for leverage, Director. I have dealt with men like you in every age, ambitious, driven, cloaked in the nobility of service. I am the one holding the keys here. If you wish to build a legacy, cast aside the empty threats. Accept the path I am offering, or let history carve its epitaph."
Carter came to a stop directly in front of Kane, glaring down at him. "Maybe I am just brave enough to test you."
"Then do and see the outcome," Kane said, his voice final and unyielding. "But know this: this moment is not about power. It is about vision. And only one of us has seen the future clearly."
Carter narrowed his eyes, taking a single step closer to Kane. The room felt like a coiled spring, tension vibrating through the air. "Is it real?" he asked, nodding at the Tacitus.
Kane's eyes met his, unblinking, the steady pulse of the orb reflected in his irises. "Yes," he said, his voice still velvet-smooth but carrying a hint of metal. "The true artifact. Not a replica, not a shadow of its potential, but the genuine key to humanity's future."
Carter let the confirmation hang in the air for a moment. "Is it stable?" he pressed, his tone low, probing.
A slight inclination of Kane's head. "Perfectly. Its secrets, though vast, are now as safe as they have ever been. It is a gift, one I have nurtured through-"
There was a flicker of something in Carter's eyes, something unreadable, dangerous. Without warning, he swept his hand forward to slap the Tacitus from Kane's grasp. Kane flinched, pulling it close, away from Carter and closer to his chest, protective, concerned.
A ripple of shock coursed through the room. Kane's eyes darkened as he realized he had been had, the Director's hand having stopped long before it could have delivered the glowing orb tumbling to the ground, a brief flash of indignation tightening his features that he had fallen for a feint. Carter returned his hands behind his back. He exhaled slowly, his jaw clenched for a heartbeat too long before he forced a thin smile. The room watched
Kane fixed Carter with a look that could pierce stone. The anger was there now, simmering behind the mask of civility. His voice dropped, carrying in it the weight of ages and the barely-contained wrath of a man who had seen empires rise and fall. "Juvenile," he began, each syllable rolling out with the precision of a guillotine blade. "Crass. To think that you, a self-styled protector of humanity, would stoop to such pathetic theatrics. Do you know what this is, Director? What you so recklessly motioned to cast to the ground?"
He took a step forward, the Tacitus cradled protectively in his hands now, its glow bathing his fingers. "This is not merely a trinket. It is the collected wisdom of those who came before us, those who walked paths you cannot even begin to imagine. It is knowledge that could salvage your world or condemn it to endless ruin. And yet, you toy with it, a child kicking stones, blissfully unaware of what they are made of."
Kane's eyes gleamed with barely restrained fury, though his voice stayed low, measured. "Let me remind you, Carter, that power and legacy are earned, not seized through bluster and bravado. You wish to test me? You wish to challenge the will that has reshaped history itself?" He drew in a sharp breath, steadying himself.
The silence in the room crackled like a live wire, charged and dangerous. Carter's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing into steely slits. He took a half-step closer back to Kane, voice biting as he spoke. "You're going to apologize, Kane."
Kane arched an eyebrow, the faintest trace of amusement shadowing his lips. "Apologize? And for what, precisely, Director? For your wounded pride? Or perhaps your insistence on turning this negotiation into a spectacle?" His tone dripped with sarcasm, subtly mocking Carter's need for dominance.
Carter's hand shot out, pointing past Kane and toward the viewport where the Earth spun, scarred by veins of emerald Tiberium that cut across continents like a blight. "For that," Carter hissed, the word laced with raw anger. "For calling the Scrin here."
A shift in Kane's expression, something dark, almost imperceptible. His eyes followed the line of Carter's finger, taking in the sight of the mutilated planet, then returning to meet the Director's fierce glare. He tilted his head, lips parting as if in contemplation before speaking with the calm precision of a scholar correcting an errant pupil. "The Scrin? No, Director. They are the Visitors. That is their true-"
"Enough!" Carter's shout cut him off, reverberating against the metal walls. The room tensed, every official present leaning forward as though caught in the pull of a magnetic force.
Kane's smile faded, leaving behind a mask as unreadable as it was ominous. He adjusted his stance, standing tall once more, and let out a slow, almost condescending sigh. "Very well," he said, each word deliberate, measured. "If my words are what you seek, then let them carry the weight you so desperately desire." He paused, eyes flickering over Carter, the people behind him, and then to the Earth, bruised and battered beneath them.
"I regret," Kane intoned, his voice deep and rich, each syllable chosen with care, "the consequences of what was set in motion, the trials that came upon this world when the Visitors arrived. It is true that in the pursuit of salvation, I summoned forces that wrought untold suffering. And for that," he inclined his head, ever so slightly, eyes locking with Carter's, "I acknowledge your grievance."
Carter allowed a thin smile to curl on his lips, his posture relaxing as he walked over to the viewport to look at Earth turning below. He clasped his hands behind his back, the silence in the room a testament to his victory. The officials around the table exchanged cautious glances, the tension having shifted ever so slightly in GDI's favor.
Kane straightened, his grip on the Tacitus firm. The brief flash of anger had dulled, replaced by a cold, calculated glint in his eyes. He inclined his head, the gesture almost respectful, but his words sliced through the room with subtle venom. "I see, Director," he began, his tone smooth as a serpent's coil, "that this display was not merely for your benefit. No, you needed them", he glanced around, eyes flickering over each GDI official with practiced ease. "to see that you could draw blood from the infamous 'Messiah' of the Brotherhood."
He took a step forward, the Tacitus glowing softly in his hands, a beacon of both promise and menace. "A show of strength, a reminder of your command over even GDI's most storied adversary. But tell me, Carter, does this ritual of yours give you peace? Does it soothe the shadows that haunt your conscience when you look down at that?" He nodded toward the viewport, where Earth spun.
Kane's smile was razor-thin, cutting and knowing. "Or perhaps it's a balm for your own doubts. After all, the greatest leaders don't need to humiliate, they lead by showing their vision, not their anger."
Carter's shoulders lifted in a casual shrug, his expression unreadable as he looked away from them. His voice, edged with cold certainty, echoed through the room. "You want to see my vision, Kane, look outside. You are in my domain. GDI's domain. Earth's orbit, where our flags mark the horizon and our steel holds the sky, where mankind's true future lies. Yet here you are, crawling to us because, for once, you need something."
Kane tilted his head, eyes narrowing with a hint of amusement. "The future?" he echoed, his voice laced with mockery. "Yes, perhaps for you, Director, for you and the sanctified inhabitants who grew up in the Blue Zones of decades past, swathed in GDI's iron embrace, shielded by the omnipresent eyes of your orbital sentinels, comforted by the blade forever poised above them. Those with the comfort and resources to dream. But what of those outside your bastions of order? To the souls left clawing for survival, scraping through days measured by hunger and the encroachment of the crystal, the skies above are not and might never be a beacon of hope, but the unyielding heel of GDI's boot, a sentiment that still remains even among those you have taken into your embrace. They remember each ion cannon strike launched in pacification operations. You wielded GDI's sword more than once yourself, raining down judgment from the heavens, from your high ground, where the cost of soldiers was deemed too high, or unnecessary."
He paused, letting the room steep in the uncomfortable truth of his words. There was a flash in Kane's eyes, irritation tempered by his iron will, quickly eclipsed by the curve of a practiced smile. "But enough of that," he continued, voice smooth as polished stone. "I come with an offer of peace, Director. Salvation from the relentless, untamed surge of Tiberium. A way to subdue its chaos, harness its boundless energy, and transform it from humanity's scourge to humanity's gift. So that instead of fleeing from the garden, we may yet learn to cultivate it."
Carter cut him off, voice ironclad. "Salvation from Tiberium lies not on Earth, but starbound. In the domed cities of Mars and the subterranean metropoli of Luna, in the sprawling habitats carved out of moons and asteroids. Far outside the reach of your green plague, where its touch cannot reach."
A shadow passed over Kane's face, fleeting but undeniable. He let a moment of silence draw out, the hum of the station filling the void before his voice slithered back in, calm yet insistent. "Evacuation, Director, is a lofty dream. One that will abandon tens millions to the encroaching tendrils of Tiberium. You know as well as I that the rot beneath the Earth's crust will not be content to stay buried. You may keep the surface clean for a time, but it will dig deeper until the whole fruit turns. Earth is a ticking clock, striking closer to midnight with each breath we take."
The room grew heavier, officials exchanging wary glances, their apprehensions laid bare. Carter's still stared outside. "Maybe, but whatever grand solution you're selling, Kane, needs to be considered worth it by me and everyone in this room." He turned around, eyes swept the assembly of GDI's highest-ranking officials, each of them marked by the scars of years fighting the very enemy that Kane had helped unleash. "We're past gestures of peace and reconciliation. There's too much blood on your hands for that." He leaned forward, voice dropping into a low, dangerous tone. "Make your case, and we'll see if it's worth listening to."
Kane moved with deliberate precision, producing a small, ornately adorned stand from the depths of his black coat. Intricate runes shimmered along its surface, catching the cold light of the chamber as he set it on the table before him, a simple nameplate on it simply reading: "Kane." With a reverence bordering on the sacred, he placed the Tacitus atop the stand, fingers lingering on the ancient artifact as if it were an extension of himself. Its ethereal glow reflected in his eyes before he withdrew his touch and sat down, shifting his gaze first to Carter, then to the silent assembly.
Hacket sat back, arms crossed, a sly grin pulling at his lips as his eyes flicked between Kane and Carter. Seo, ever the calculated academic, appeared neutral, fingers folded and refolded, wanting to speak but restraining himself. Only Litinov seemed outwardly tense, stealing nervous glances at Carter before lowering her gaze to avoid eye contact with Kane.
"I know you are all educated, thoughtful people," Kane began, his voice smooth yet edged with an undercurrent of menace. "Are you truly impressed by such displays? Such theatrics?"
Hacket leaned forward, his grin widening into something sharp and predatory. "As he said, he's the Director," he remarked. "He'll do what he wants. And, truth be told, it was satisfying to see you rattled. No offense."
"None taken," Kane replied, his eyes never leaving Carter, a flicker of something darker dancing within them.
Seo shifted, his fingers finding a moment of calm. "This meeting is an unusual situation," hw began, his voice steady. "As a man of science, I respect your intellect, even admire it. But let's not pretend. I understand the Director's position and his conduct, unorthodox as it may be. You've caused untold suffering and atrocities. You're a war criminal and more, an alien , something worthy of study as much as anything you present today. Don't doubt for a moment that Carter's talk of slicing you thin was anything less than a statement of fact. While I am curious to hear the details of your proposed solution to Tiberium, I have no illusions as to what you are."
"And who, exactly, would that be?" Kane asked, his voice dripping with feigned innocence.
"An enemy," Hacket said, leaning back again. "The personification of the Brotherhood,"
"And GDI is my enemy, the force that has always stood in the path of my vision. Yet here I sit, in the very fortress of that adversary, offering peace. Time marches on, the hour glass empties. Yet here I am, the greater man, willing to set aside the past for the sake of humanity. How long must this charade continue? How long must I endure your scorn before we begin what must be done?" His gaze swept the room. "The sons and daughters of Nod are just as human as those you swore to protect. Must we be adversaries forever, even now?"
"Nod is not our enemy," Litinov finally spoke, her voice steady but conflicted. "No one in this room is under any illusions about the timeline Tiberium has imposed on Earth and the need for cooperation, however difficult. No child should perish at the hands of Tiberium, not under the flag of Nod or GDI. At the end of the day, Nod's motivations are human. But you, Kane, your true intentions remain a mystery. Even I question your motive for this gesture."
Carter, eyes fixed on the expanse outside, spoke, sharp. "This petty war over Earth's surface? It's a mere distraction, a footnote in an arc of history so long none of us will live to see its end. My true enemy is Tiberium, the plague rewriting the world under our feet. My true enemy is you, Kane, for the chaos you've sown. But above all, my greatest enemy is the Scrin." The room seemed to tighten with his words, the silence deepened by the soft hum of the air recyclers. "They are the only war that matters. The alien invaders who tore open our skies and showed us what lies beyond, a harbinger of extinction so absolute that it renders all our struggles insignificant. And they will return. Of that, I am certain. And when they do, it won't matter who rules the uninhabitable wastes of Earth. Mankind's future is starbound, a belief I have lobbied for all my life, but there is a catch."
Carter's tone grew icier. "I remember when I was young, standing on the observation deck of the first Philadelphia as a fresh faced officer. I looked up and felt awe, a naive, boundless wonder at the promise of the stars. They were a symbol of hope, of humanity's potential, a future free of the shadows of war and Tiberium. But age, Kane, age has a way of stripping illusions away, one unforgiving layer at a time. Now when I look up, I see only threats. Each star is an enemy, each glimmer a reminder of what nearly brought us to our knees. We dared to ask if we were alone, and the universe answered. Twice. And both answers were drenched in blood."
He turned around to look at Kane. "Do you know what it does to a man, Kane, to stand beneath the infinite and see only the graves of the dreams he once cherished? To understand that every battle we fight, every victory we claim, might be for nothing more than to buy time before they find us again? The Scrin are out there, waiting, calculating. We are but insects under the cosmic gaze of gods who neither know nor care about us. The stars no longer inspire, they haunt."
"So yes, Kane, you are my enemy. But even more so, so is every flickering light in that sky, each one a beacon of potential annihilation. Against that, our feud is meaningless. My true enemy is whatever waits out there, poised to destroy us like we never existed. And for that enemy, we will need to prepare. Because when they come, we will need to be more than divided remnants. We will need to be one humanity, all children of Earth united in purpose. So make no mistake: whatever we do here, whatever games you play, it must serve that singular war. Because when the sky tears open again, there will be no time left for rivalry, only survival. My grievances with you are vented. We may begin."
Barely perceptible and hidden by the hands folded in front of his face, Kane smiled.
. . .
"The most straightforward approach," The Messiah began, his voice smooth and deliberate, "would be a global resonance cascade, an immense network built to ultimately emit a single, unified pulse. Imagine the effect of a Tiberium refinery, magnified and synchronized across the entire planet. Every trace of Tiberium, converted in an instant into stable baryonic matter." He paused, the glow of the Tacitus reflecting in his eyes. "It would solve your Tiberium problem, yes. But it would also leave this world reeling, your civilisation bereft of its most important resource, scrambling to fill the void left behind. A global crisis to replace a global plague. It is the path most aligned with my past...but there are other paths. More promising paths. Paths we could forge together, with the time GDI has bought pushing the inevitable back just a little longer."
With a slow, deliberate motion, Kane swept his hand across the table, scattering small pyramidal stones like seeds. He turned his palm upward, and a shimmering projection of Earth rose before them, rotating lazily in the air. "Consider a more elegant solution. More enduring, more visionary. I call it the Mantle Complex. A system not built to erase Tiberium, but to command it. A network, vast, stretching across the surface of the Earth, while Tiberium itself is locked away, buried deep beneath our feet, its raw potential siphoned and controlled, imprisoned beneath the surface." He gestured toward the globe, and the projection shifted, revealing a brilliant network of tendrils sinking into the planet's crust. "With this system, the danger of Tiberium remains locked away, far beneath the surface, while its potential, its energy, flows freely to you. Unrestricted, pure. Resources at your fingertips, a controlled, limitless source of strength. Order imposed upon disorder."
Kane's eyes gleamed as he made another gesture, sweeping his arm wide across his chest. The projection shifted, and a series of luminous orbital platforms appeared encircling the equator like a halo. "And then, for those with vision, for those who dare reach beyond mere survival, there are the orbital forges. The future forges of human ingenuity, the crown of this garden of Eden, capable of crafting wonders from the very ichor that once threatened to undo it. Tiberium, repurposed into boundless possibility. With technical collaboration and shared purpose, these forges could become beacons, a warm light for all mankind. The choice, as always, lies in your hands."
Carter's eyes darkened as he leaned forward, tapping the table with a slow, deliberate rhythm that seemed to punctuate each word. "I assume you're already aware of the little green problem we've encountered on Venus," he said, the corners of his mouth tightening. "Got a solution for that?"
Kane's expression shifted subtly. "Ah, the Morning Star. I have heard whispers of Tiberium's spread to Venus, yes. Your GDI, Director, is like a vessel perpetually leaking, a steady drip of secrets. But I digress," he said, the mockery curling at the edge of his voice. "I am aware, but the precise manner in which Tiberium has evolved under Venus's searing conditions remained out of my reach. GDI has kept those finer details under lock and key." He paused, letting the tension settle before continuing, eyes flickering with the glimmer of calculation. "Without direct study, I cannot speak with certainty. However, it is possible. This construct before you, derived from the Threshold Tower, can produce a series of targeted effects. Creating additional structures for such purposes would not be, shall we say, exceptionally difficult. Costly, of course, but a resonance cascade design wouldn't require the construction to withstand Venus's hellish environment."
Carter's finger tapping ceased, eyes narrowing as he took in Kane's words. The silence between them was heavy, charged. Kane's expression lightened. "But let me offer you this caution, Director: If you choose to harness the ichor's boundless potential, know this, you may attempt to bend it to your will, but it shall always weave its tendrils through your fate. Tiberium is no servant, it is a master that whispers promises as it tightens its grip."
—
Seo's attention was equally divided between Kane, the holoprojection and the technical data package Kane had sent to his pad, eyes darting back and forth as he spoke, excitement creeping into his voice. "All of these proposals should be possible, despite the global scale. I am not worrying about the amount of foundational infrastructure that will need to be built, nor setting up manufacturing lines for the more advance components. STU demand will be high, but within our expected production rates, especially if we can tap into reserve capacity. From a quick glance, our biggest problem is time, and behind that, likely to be specialized personnel if we want construction to progress with the speed proposed."
"Rest assured, Doctor," Kane's lips curled into a knowing smile as he swept a hand through the air with practiced elegance. "I have not idled away in my ivory tower in solitude. The minds most devoted to my cause have been meticulously prepared for this endeavor, each versed in the intricacies of this engineering feat. And as for the others, the Brotherhood's brightest? They will rally behind this ambition, should I choose the right words to inspire them."
"And can we trust them?" Hackett interjected, his voice laced with skepticism. "I'd rather not contend with sabotage from within."
Kane's eyes glimmered with something between amusement and challenge. "Ah, trust, a commodity always in short supply within the hallowed halls of GDI." He allowed a pause, savoring the weight of his next words. "That hinges on your willingness to accept that even those who carry the banner of Nod have their reasons to cooperate. Not blind fanaticism, but a stark awareness of the stakes. You see, they know well that GDI's ambitions have already cast their gaze starward, to sanctuaries untouchable by Tiberium's green grasp. Meanwhile, the Brotherhood faces a fate anchored to this rotting Eden, unless they prostrate themselves beneath the boot of our dear Director to give up their arms and ambitions," Kane said, glancing pointedly at Carter. "Self-preservation, gentlemen and -woman, can be a powerful unifier."
"And what of afterwards", Litinov cut in, eyes alight. "Once the pressure of extinction has worn off. What then?"
"A profound question indeed. Will the war, mankind's most enduring companion, rise once more when ambition eclipses mere survival? Or will this moment, this rare lesson in unity, etch a final chapter in which the children of Earth transcended their divisions for a cause greater than themselves? I am skeptical of the latter, but knowing you, I suspect you would dare to try."
"I don't need a lecture, Kane," Hackett scoffed. "Your little cult, the Brotherhood of Nod, your attack dogs, will either need to be muzzled or put down. We can't construct this wonder while constantly watching our backs."
"I agree," Carter said, a hard edge in his voice, as he crossed his arms.
"They will obey, to a point," Kane replied smoothly. "They need me, need the gifts, my leadership, my vision, my blessing, all I alone can bestow. Yes, there will be those whose madness drives them to snap at whatever hand reaches out. That, Commander, has always been the nature of humanity."
"That might not be enough," Hackett countered, skepticism darkening his expression. "There are too many wounds for us to rely solely on your assurances."
"There are wounds enough on both sides," Litvinov interjected, voice measured. "If we are to work together, this may well be the moment to forge a peace that holds. Conduct tribunals, ensure accountability for every scar we've given and received."
What would follow were hours upon hours of tense negotiations, oftentimes contentious.
Key Terms
Pick three key terms
[ ] Tiberium Control Network Effect
There are two designs seriously proposed by Kane, a basic and advanced model. While both will work to contain and control tiberium, the advanced model offers a future of industrial and energetic plenty in a way that the basic does not.
[ ] Subordination of the Brotherhood of Nod
While GDI and the Brotherhood will have to work together to build the Tiberium Control Network, the nature of that relationship is one that will have to be decided. Subordinating the Brotherhood into Initiative structures will make few people happy, but it will mean that an outbreak of conflict will be much more difficult in the aftermath of the Tiberium Control Network being completed.
[ ] Construction Share Ratio
While GDI will have to take the lion's share of the construction effort, simply because of its operational scale, forcing the Brotherhood to take on additional duties and industrial commitments will free some Initiative resources to achieve other goals, while limiting the ability of the Brotherhood to fund shenanigans.
[ ] Technology Exchange
Kane has mastery of a number of fields of knowledge that humanity has only scratched the surface of. While pressuring him is difficult, he may well be willing to offer a number of technological data packages to help sweeten the pot.
[ ] Truth and Reconciliation
After four major global wars, and over a half century of chronic low level fighting, there are a massive array of existing grievances, on both sides, ranging from bad calls, to intentional war crimes. While sorting through them will be the work of decades, bilateral and multilateral commissions will help smooth down some of the more egregious burrs.
Coauthored by @BOTcommander
A/N1: Two hours to discuss before voting begins
A/N2: Ko-fi.com/ithillid if anyone cares to help out.
And, here we go.
Anyways, I'm leaning towards these three:
[ ] Tiberium Control Network Effect
[ ] Technology Exchange
[ ] Truth and Reconciliation
Advanced TCN because we need the advanced version in all honesty. Tech exchange because I want more Nod and Bentusari tech gacha. And Truth and Reconciliation because it is something that is *definitely* needed. And may well open the stage for a gradual unification of mankind. We need to start rebuilding bridges between GDI and Nod *somewhere*.
Anyways, I'm leaning towards these three:
[ ] Tiberium Control Network Effect
[ ] Technology Exchange
[ ] Truth and Reconciliation
Advanced TCN because we need the advanced version in all honesty. Tech exchange because I want more Nod and Bentusari tech gacha. And Truth and Reconciliation because it is something that is *definitely* needed. And may well open the stage for a gradual unification of mankind. We need to start rebuilding bridges between GDI and Nod *somewhere*.