Easter
Laziest lazier
- Location
- Bed
[X] The Kingdom of Lilies
Gundam Turn Alpha
- Thread starter BiopunkOtrera
- Start date
- IC
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- Tags
- gundam gundam turn a
- Pronouns
- She/They
[X] Commander Sir Carlton Devereux, CanMexican Royal Space Force, and Provisional Field-Commandant of the Mysterium Muri Terrae
- Pronouns
- She/They
Inglessa Times-Gazette
New Layout, Same Great Paper!
- Front Page: King' Speech Assures Prosperity, Commands Watchfulness
- Business: Markets Volatile as European and African Tensions Escalate
- Entertainment: 'Artoria' Sequel Delayed By Questionable Claims
- Society: Royal Wedding Planning Already At Fever Pitch
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- Pronouns
- She/Her
MAN-MACHINE MONTHLY
December Edition, 1001 AC/26 AA- GAIA-Errant Knight: Moralia's First MS
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EK-Type
High End Mass Production, Cutting Edge General Purpose Mobile Suit
Man Machine's Mobile Weapons Mass Tactical Rating: A
From the Carpathian Mountains, to the Moroccan Sands; from the cities of Korea to the River Ob; the EK-Type has proven itself amongst the cutting edge Mobile Suits of the new age. Counting itself among the larger Mobile Suits of the Mass Production Class (see. Man Machine Catalog List), its rather limited arsenal can be forgiven for its survivability, allowing Moralia's elite pilots to fight another day. Though that does not mean that it is 100% safe (See MM Monthly: Moralia's First Blood pp.15), it optimizes the Moralian Sphere's piloting edge against Earthians and Spacians to its advantage.
Any rumors of Captain Sharon Schwarzer's Jaeger Corps failure to down a single Type-R during the Battle of the Swollen River is unsubstantiated. - Angel Upgrades: Type-1S, Type-2S and RD-Seraph
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Type-1 Seraph
High End Mass Production, Modern/Pre-Cataclysm General Purpose Seraphim Mobile Suit
Man Machine's Mobile Weapons Mass Tactical Rating: B
Type-2 Seraph
Low End Limited Production, Modern/Pre-Cataclysm General Purpose Seraphim Mobile Suit
Man Machine's Mobile Weapons Limited Tactical Rating: D
RD-Seraph
High End Limited Production, Modern/Pre-Cataclysm Quick Response Seraphim Mobile Suit
Man Machine's Mobile Weapons Limited Tactical Rating: B
A collection of Mobile Suits upgraded by the pre-Cataclysm Seraphim for their use throughout the conflicts leading up to that final conflagration. The Type-1 and Type-2 Variants were discovered as part of an escort for the abandoned Seraphim Battleship Ceylon, itself having been struck by an unknown beam weapon. Their performance exceeds their non-modified originals, and if not for the development of the EK-Type, would serve as able Mobile Suits for Moralia's frontline purposes.
The third in the angel upgraded collection is a Seraph modified RD-Type, dubbed RD-Seraph. While only historical data of the existence of a non-modified RD-Type confirms its existence, since non have been found anywhere in the Earth Sphere thus far, Moralia's potential competitor to the E Mod-2 for Generalist Limited is an able one. Suited well with advanced sensors and boosters, the RD-Seraph is one that primarily focuses on quick movement and heavy firepower, as seen from its large bevy of weaponry, though this does leave aspects like armor with something to be desired. - Series-C: Workhorse Warhorse
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Series-C
Non-MS Mobile Weapon, Cutting Edge Auxiliary Worker Suit
Believed to have initially been developed as modern replacement of the various Mobile Worker proliferating the Earth Sphere, the Series-C has quickly seen mass proliferation and modification amongst the Seraph aligned Earthian Powers.
This, beyond just as a test case of Earthian ingenuity and creativeness, could potentially serve as an inspiration for new variants, designs and modernizations of existing support equipment and Battlegroup Mobile Infantry Suits like the Petit-Mobil…. - ATLAS A-Flat Q-Psycom: Abandoned Titan
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A-Flat Q-Psycom
High End Ace Suit, Ancient/Post 11MW A-Flat INCOM Test Type Mobile Suit
Man Machine's Mobile Weapons Ace Tactical Rating: B+
Man Machine's Mobile Weapons A-Type Tactical Rating: D+
Discovered in the ATLAS Morocco Fortress following a Yammacin Expedition to the area, the A-Flat Q-Psycom are a series of old post Eleven Month War A-Flats equipped with experimental INCOM systems. This allows for the limited usage of psychic bit weapons for ranged engagements.
Despite the technical and mechanical age of the Mobile Suits, their A-Type heritage shines through as the suit is still capable of outperforming a number of more modern equivalents in straight single combat. Captain Pearl is currently in discussion with Yammacin authorities for a payment adjustment…
"…Rika? Are you listening? It's time to wake up, the demonstration is starting soon and you told me too—" An amused voice jolts her from her sleep.
Rika Hojo, secretary to Ikuko Fujiwara, blinks away the last remains of the drowsiness from her eyes, slowly returning to the land of the living. As she sits up, the magazine that she'd been reading, this month's copy of Man Machine Monthly, floats away from her lap, tugging at the cloth string connecting it to the table.
Wait…what's she doing here? Wasn't she supposed to be—
The memory of their current task floods back to Rika's brain, causing her to panic and Miss Ikuko to start chuckling as if nothing was wrong, the older woman's long hair floating in the newly rechristened Battleship Helgoland's zero gravity.
"Do calm yourself, the demonstration is starting soon. I merely believed you would want to be awake for it." Goetia's demonstration of its newest Mobile Suit, the GAIA-Errant Lord; officially the EL-Type. Rika closes the print magazine, increasingly common as a luxury collectors item amongst a number of Spacian publications, and returns it to the small coffee table that had been prepared for the private observation deck.
After some wait, a screen comes to life showing a live feed of the outside of the Helgoland. The Battleship and its escort is currently at the edge of the Munzo Shoal Zone, near one of Goetia's testing colonies.
Entering the broadcast feed is a large Mobile Suit, jagged and edgy, colored in a mix of dark and light blues. The number designation on its chest and lack of armaments signify its the EL Prototype. Immediately Rika pulls out a laptop, jotting down as much as she can, her own clumsiness quickly forgotten.
All the while Miss Ikuko chuckles softly at her secretary's change in demeanor.
The Prototype does carry a single weapon though, a massive rifle connected to the rest of the suit. The EL-Types primary armament, supposedly meant to match and surpass the Astarte's feared Anti-Ship Beam weapons. The raw data for such derived from the Yammacin bought Type-R.
A part of Rika pouts at the increased proliferation of the Type-R, a suit she'd always associated with the Black Angels; it's the same sort of feeling she has seeing ZOLON Space Types and ODF. Those are Pallasi and Lunari respectively, dammit!
Her musings are interrupted as the beam cannon, which she briefly remembers is designated as Mega Launcher, is connected to a port at the chest of the Mobile Suit, the weapon slowly charging. Its target flashes on screen as well, an old derelict Battleship with its armor mostly intact but its internals cleaned out in its entirety.
The charging light gets brighter and brighter, until finally it's unleashed. A streak of searing yellow light a quarter of the size of the suit that fired is launched at the Battleship. The beam scythes through the Battleship, right down where the reactor should be, all but cutting it in half.
"Impressive, those old coots will get that budget increase they've been asking for then." Rika grimaces at the mention of the budget, Moralia's richer now sure but the expenses are starting to pile up.
"Ma'am, are you sure about that?" Rika doesn't miss the brief grimace and the following sigh that flashes on her superior's face.
"The IMEMF and new contracts will thankfully pick up the slack in that regard." A thoughtful look crosses Miss Ikuko's face, as if she hadn't just brushed off expenses that would've bankrupted Moralia just a year ago. All for a Mobile Suit.
Rika looks at the screen again, seeing the EL Prototype, beginning to charge its Mega Launcher once more, its target this time a dilapidated colony. Too damaged to repair but intact enough that scrapping would take too much work without infrastructure this far out.
It's a really good Mobile Suit; Rika thinks, already mentally adjusting the Catalog Rankings. She's not looking forward to that argument with Satoko, not one bit.
- GAIA-Errant Lord
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EL-Type
High End Limited Production, Cutting Edge Anti-Ship/Anti-Suit Artillery Mobile Suit
Man Machine's Mobile Weapons Limited Tactical Rating: A+
[DATA CLASSIFIED]
- Location
- New England, State of Confusion
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Preface
Today, the Axis Seraphim share our history. We have kept to ourselves to a great extent this last Earthian Year. We have worked to see humanity protected but we have not shared ourselves widely with all of humanity in Sol's System. The Axis Seraphim wish to change this, to help others understand who we are and what we work towards.
-Martina Grey, Chief Diplomat of Eden 511
The War of A Hundred Days
A Brief History of the Axis Seraph Order of Eden 511
Amassing forces and Eden-511 from the former asteroid of 511 Davida, the then Seraphim Inner Expedition under the Committee of Seven set out to recover lost Seraph vessels and probes that had been last seen in the Orbit of Mercury. Journeying away from their sisters for the first time, their first trial was their passage near Venus. Limited space battles occurred, with the expedition avoiding the planet as much as possible. Arriving at Mercury with only minimal damage, hopes were high.
Within days of establishing orbit and before any operations could commence, the wayward Seraphs found themselves locked in a pitched battle. Assailed by unknown remnants of Calamity in the form of stealth auto weapons, mobile suits piloted as if by ghosts, and something far worse.
From the surface of Mercury emanated a sudden and droning psychic pressure. To give up. To embrace the darkness that descended upon them. Not to die, no, but to await that which would drag them to comfortable nothingness.
Suffering in the initial surprise, Eden did not fall. Seraphs wept as their comrades died by the enemy's hand or simply went to sleep never to wake, Eden did not fall. As they struck forth into the labyrinthian tunnel networks that wished to consume them, Eden did not fall. As nuclear suns brought light to month-long nights, again and again, Eden did not fall. But it did change.
The Committee of Seven slowly shrank until all of its number were slain or worse. The psychic assault seemed to know who led the Angels, it whispered to them their names. So as leaders stepped up to fill their place, they too were slowly whittled away. So as their hierarchy crumbled, a new system emerged. Seraphs were empowered at lower and lower levels, with decisions made by a central committee of leaders that would step up as needed before stepping back for others when the burden became too great.
As their organization adapted, so too did the Seraph's spirits. In the darkness of Mercury's long nights, memories of light were treasured. When the long night would end and the long day began, they would rejoice. Pressured too by the hidden horror of Mercury, they searched for a purpose to carry them from each day through the night. Many answers were held by individual Seraphs, but one meaning came to dominate as the war dragged on.
Calamity had been averted for most, but here it so clearly lingered. Their job was not yet done, Humanity was still at risk. They could not leave the unaware, the unprepared, to face this. The war was their duty, their only cause. They would see it through, they would see the devils that crept at the edge of their minds at all times cast down. To their minds, they were already damned. The gods had abandoned or been lost to them. But these Seraphs would not abandon humanity. They were its champions against the creeping night.
The oaths of service once pledged to the authority of the Seraphim so far away morphed into vows to their sisters and humanity. Pledges to see their sisters comforted and aided. Prayers to Sol that the Darkness would be banished forevermore one day. Vows to their purpose. A promise to go on another day.
So as the Seraphim Inner Expedition at the center of Sol's System orbited it again and again, they became the Seraphs at the Axis of Sol; the Axis Seraphim. An order pledged again and again to its members and all of Humanity. An order that would banish the encroaching darkness of Calamity.
So as darkness fought to crush them, they found the strength to fight on. For one hundred long mercurial days, they brought light into the bowels of that accursed planet. Apocalypse Machines were dashed upon the pitch-dark tunnel walls. Lit by weapons fire, the dead souls of Calamity were put to rest. Bunker by bunker, tunnel by tunnel, a price of blood was wrought from the planet closest to Sol but Farthest from Her light.
It cost the Axis Seraphs dearly to see the light brought forward inch by inch. By the time of the 100th day, almost none of the original members still drew breath. It had been nearly 50 years of waxing and waning fighting. So when at last the Heart of Darkness was found, the women who fought were not the ones that had first arrived. Bathed in the final light of a multi-gigaton nuclear charge carving out the last active scar of Calamity on Mercury, the question of what now and its answer had changed.
They would not return to their former sisters. They would stand vigil for their dead and to ensure that nothing would leave the planet. So Eden 511 was expanded yet further and the Seraphs returned from the darkened pit of Mercury. Leaving behind battlefields and craters dug with nuclear fire, they rose at last from that dark place.
So they stood vigil for another three hundred years. Healing, formalizing the changes wrought by that long war, growing. Watching far away from the Spacians or Earthia, seldom speaking they stood watch. And when they saw the fires of space crash down on Earthia, a decision was made. Humanity still needed its guardians.
Declaration of Sol's Light Triumphant
Year 702
This document declares the establishment of the Axis Seraph Order of Eden 511, Devoted to Sol. Long have we spun about the Axis of Sol fighting the war to see Calamity banished. Today we declare our first victory. The Heart of Darkness is no more. We have endured and stand together, sisters all, at the beginning of our future. We once answered to our sisters beyond, but now we answer a higher calling. Humanity and its light, Sol, are our purpose. We shall see them protected from the darkness that wishes to return, Calamity.Year 702
To Ourselves, we vow that our strengths and burdens are never discounted.
To the Order, we vow that our duty shall not be abandoned.
To Humanity, we vow that forever shall our highest purpose be your protection.
To Sol, we vow to keep and spread your light.
In her name do we make these vows. In her name we will keep them. In her name we go on.
Goddess Sol, Lady of Light, Atomforge, Origin. Grant us your light forever more.
Sol
Sol, Lady of Light, Atomforge, Origin. These are the titles the Axis Seraphs give to the god that they dedicate themselves to. Her edicts are merciful and clear. Hold to one's vows, and protect humanity. Stand firm against the darkness. Bring the light forth at every moment. Endure the night, cherish the day. Banish the demon of Calamity with fire.
Her light is protective, warming, and loving. All bask in her light wherever they are. None are beyond her reach, all are already saved. Humanity are her charges and we the executors of her will. They will be preserved.
To Sol we dedicate ourselves and our actions.
Vows: Personal dedications to a specific cause, purpose, profession, or task. All seraphs have at least the Light Vows to themselves, the order, humanity, and Sol. High Vows are those of the Axis Seraphim that have chosen leadership amongst it, and have written standards that one must hold to if they are to fulfill the Vows. Vows may be renounced or retired or renewed as time goes on depending on the Seraph's wishes.
Common vows can roughly be divided into three categories: service, Devotion, and Shielding. Service vows are predominantly to the Order and trades or skills. Devotion vows are to individuals or groups that promise support and love. Shielding vows are those of the militant, promises of protection and to secure the bodies of the fallen.
High Vows: Specific Vows relating to the management or conduct of the order.
Light Vows: Initial/universal Vows to themselves, the order, humanity, and Sol as initiation into the Order.
Customs and culture of Eden 511
Night Fall/Turning Of The Day: Every 176 Earthian Days marks the completion of a Mercurial day-night cycle. As a result of this, every 176 days the Axis Seraphim celebrate the start of the next day, and at the height of the night hold more somber remembrances,
The Carried Feeling: A regular occurrence is one psychic producing a pleasant or important memory or feeling and presenting it to another psychic who then goes on to repeat the process. Some thoughts and feelings are said to have been passed around since the Hundred Days' War
Atomlight: The Axis Seraphim have an appreciation for the necessity of nuclear weapons when there is nothing able to be saved anymore. Never to be used except in the most dire of circumstances, Earth must be spared their use.
Cuisine: Predominantly vegetarian-vegan, predominantly due to logistics and access. Spices predominate, with foods broken down into "Day" and "Night" categories. Bisques and soups are major components of both categories. Day foods are more involved and is where most of the breads are found, along with stews and curries. Night foods are simple packaged fare for consumption while on station or otherwise busy. Dehydrated foods, smooth soups in drinking pouches. Sweets and pastries comprise mainly of fudges, halva, and small bite-sized confections.
Solbound Return: When an Axis Seraph dies, her body is cremated before being placed in a metal container for her return journey to Sol. Her loved ones and friends gather to celebrate her life while recording the event. Then, at the end of the ceremony, the container is launched on a trajectory to fall into Sol's embrace and paired with a tightbeam transmission of the recording.
Dress and Appearance: The Axis Seraphim favor a variety of dress for different purposes. Jumpsuits and coveralls are favored for work, technical matters, or combat. Casual wear is a matter for the individual seraph to decide, but it commonly features simple bright jewelry as well as a rainbow of hair colors. It is a common party trick for an axis seraph to produce a blindfold and move about or conduct acrobatics from psychic premonition alone. Formal wear is often white or light cream colors with red accents, with a great deal of capes or cloaks. In battle mirrored helms are not uncommon for leaders and Aces but general dress remains immediately practical with body armor and vacuum suits considered necessary.
Orginizational Structure
Central Cloister
Manages high-level direction and policy
Members selected from each of the 4 major Convents
Additional 3 members selected via election
Membership fluid
Chaired by Guiding Seraph (responsible for meeting agenda, keeping minutes)
Current Guiding Seraph: Lavinia Harcourt
Convent of Providence
-Manages economic matters
-Directing Seraph: Ismelda Gruene
Convent of Protection
-Manages military matters.
-Directing Seraph: Lillian Boganova
Convent of Learning
-Manages archives and research.
-Directing Seraph: Joan Rivera
Convent of Communications
-Manages foreign relations
-Directing Seraph: Martina Grey
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indie colonies.
Shrike
Temporarily embarrassed kulak
Unaligned Colonies
Alderwitch - One of the 'witch twins', Alderwitch is a closed-type colony cylinder floating in the outer edges of the L4 shoal zone. Alderwitch's populace has embraced a plethora of mystery cults and, while there are occasional squabbles and even fighting (thankfully just with fists) many of the cults are reasonably neighborly to each other; Alderwitch's culture is sometimes compared to a well-shaken mix of oil and water as dozens of bubbles move around, past and sometimes into each other. The various seraph groups hold broad but shallow sway, the very nature of Alderwitch's culture allowing them in but making it difficult to gain any deep hold.
Morewitch - Morewitch is the other of the 'witch twins', positioned just outside the L4 shoal zone. Eagerly adopting Seraphim-supplied biotechnology they have nonetheless given polite but firm refusals to form any closer alignments. Sometimes called a 'renfair in space' by Lunari (A term that nobody seems to really know what it means any more) Morewitch is considered a bit strange and, due to various lax laws and political neutrality, mostly harmless.
The Spindrift - A quartet of colonies at the outer edge of the L4 Lagrange point, the Spindrift has become a key member of the Lunar economic community and, as travel through the shoal zone becomes more reliable, Pallas as well. Being relatively poor due to the malfunction of several of the stored industrial plants, the Spindrift has responded by incubating a strongly capitalist private sector in a bid to 'unleash the animal spirits'. Politically lukewarm towards the Seraphim, the arrival of various well-armed Seraph splinter groups over the past few years has sent ripples of alarm through the Spindrift and they have responded with a program of defensive works and seen Spindrift-Seraphim relations degrade as collateral.
Island 471 ' Magnus' - Some claim that Island 471 was the last and largest space colony ever built; while these claims are impossible to verify Island 471 is certainly extremely large. From a distance it has the conventional double-cylinder design but the two cylindera are each approximately 50 kilometers long and 12 kilometers in diameter, giving them more than twice the floor space of conventionally sized cylinders. Politically, '471' maintains a special relationship with Luna and is one of the few colonies at L5 that have not aligned directly with the Seraphim. That said, 471 is also friendly to the Seraphim and there is brisk trade between them. Like all of the space colonies 471's culture has been long mixed between dozens of ancient Earth sources but its strongest influence is - was - Latin American. 471 is unofficially known as Magnus, in reference to its size and the pride its people take in it.
New Lucknay - The other independent colony at L5, New Lucknay slowly orbits around the edge of the L5 shoal zone (aka the Thunderbolt Sector). Having suffered a major impact several centuries ago, long before the inhabitants awoke from their stasis vaults, New Lucknay currently only has one functioning cylinder. Continued efforts to repair the 'B Side' by salvaging out of the Thunderbolt Zone has given New Lucknay a selection of strange and unusual weapons. New Lucknay maintains a policy of affable neutrality in spacer politics but is also rather avaricious of technology that could be used for its immense infrastructure project - or technology in general. New Lucknay's founding culture is that of the pre-cataclysm British Isles, though like other colonies this has long since become little more than cultural color.
Moon Moon - The only habitat in Earth orbit, Moon Moon is a ramshackle collection of elderly, old-style habitat spheres and zero-G stations welded together into a veritable 'clump of grapes' in geosynchronous orbit over the middle of the Pacific Ocean. A significant fraction of Moon Moon's population are zero-G adapted Minkowskis (or 'Minks'), who have a complicated and recondite religion related to Earth, space and their position in it. Overall fairly insular and without most of the functioning industrial fabricators of the other space habitats, the people of Moon Moon have extremely limited technology and much of their energies are spent salvaging for what they need out of the circum-Pacific shoal zone.
Side 3 - Side 3 is the third largest center of population in the Earth Sphere, behind Luna and the L5 Home Cluster and roughly comparable to Ansclar. Unlike those however, Side 3 is politically disunited with seemingly each individual colony having its own political alignment. Historically subordinate to the Pax Lunari, for generations the various colony cylinders of L3 were were content to let the distant Lunari act as mediators of last resort. Unfortunately, the recent arrival of various Seraph splinter groups has resulted in a sea change in local politics, replacing the distant Lunari with a variety of more local and much more active influences. No specific alignment holds the majority today, though a significant number support the Astarti with a somewhat smaller number supporting the Seraphim and even several looking towards Eden-511 and ZOLON for leadership and patronage. As might be expected this multisided tug-of-war can result in volatile internal politics, with Luna and Lunar-aligned interests called in to mediate increasingly often even as the steady erosion of Lunar hegemony in Side 3 is raising alarms in the halls of Lunar power.
An incomplete list of Side 3 colonies include:
Cobrastan
Secilia
Lilium
Neo-Tokyo
Marx
Gazth-Sonika
Nafrece
Major Asteroids
Solomon - A 20 km nickel-iron asteroid towed to the L-1 point, Solomon first rose to prominence in the Eleven Month War when it became the Federation's unbreachable fortress. Even today it still bears the scars of the ancient battles that swirled around it. After the war its importance slowly diminished, and while it was always a fortress by the Cataclysm it appears to have been mostly relegated to a transit hub and secure storage site.
Palau - Palau is an extinct comet that was towed to the L-2 point to provide both mineral and, via mining deep under its desiccated crust, volatiles as well. Several hidden caches discovered by Anlscar mining operations suggest it was once used by anti-Federation forces as a base of operation but overall the resource asteroid does not appear to have ever been more than a resource asteroid.
Luna-5 - Buried deep inside the Thunderbolt Sector, Luna-5 appears to be a simple mining asteroid slightly smaller than Solomon. Unfortunately the hazards of the Thunderbolt Sector mean it is essentially unapproachable with several attempts to reach it and find what may lie inside having met disaster. Until the shoal zone is cleared or someone builds a ship with sufficiently thick ablative armor to withstand the random impacts expected on the way, Luna-5 will remain isolated and untouched.
Luna-8 - One of the key fleet facilities of the post-Eleven Month War Federation, Luna-8 appears to have steadily taken over the role Solomon once filled. Originally anchored at L-1, Luna-8 was recently moved to L-5. Like most asteroids it is essentially a lumpy potato, its stoney chondrite bulk spanning roughly 15km on its longest axis.
Gate of Zedan - A particularly large asteroid at ~34km on its longest axis, the Gate of Zetan is a contact binary with a distinctive mushroom shape. It was the largest and most powerful of the Space Independence Alliance's three asteroid forts and included full industrial facilities. It was later used as a major ATLAS facility and ultimately as one of the Cradles - with the massive beam scars across the mushroom 'cap' mute testament to the nigh-genocidal infighting that closed out the Cataclysm. Seen as haunted, despite its proximity to Side-3 the Gate of Zedan is shunned by any sensible individual. In fact, 'Going past the Gate of Zedan' has become a space colloquialism for death.
Moussa - At barely 10 km across, Moussa is the smallest (until the arrival of Ulyesses) asteroid in the Earth Sphere. Like Palau it is an extinct comet, its interior heavily mined for volatiles and its surface covered in silicate slag residuals from a century of smelting. Ancient records have its position at Side 3 and it briefly served as an asteroid fort; at some point it fell out of Side 3 and now orbits between Earth and the Lagrange points.
Pezun - Another nickel-iron asteroid, Pezun is the fragment of a larger body that was shattered in geologically recent times; its pointed splinter shape is distinctive next to the more common 'lumpy potato'. The third asteroid once found at L3, it was used as a command center by the Space Independence Alliance forces during the Eleven Month War. After the war it was seized by Federation forces and moved to its current position, orbiting roughly 80,000 km from Earth.
Shoal Zones and other navigational hazards
Pallas Shoal Zone ("Garden of Thorns") - The largest shoal zone in the Earth Sphere, the Pallas Shoal Zone is centered around Pallas itself. While hundreds of destroyed colonies litter the area, Minovsky particle density is the lowest of all the shoal zones, only mildly elevated above the background levels across the Earth Sphere. It is popularly known as the Garden of Thorns due to the number of ships that have suffered hull-penetrating hits trying to explore it.
Thunderbolt Sector - The remnants of L5, the Thunderbolt Sector is the second-largest shoal zone after the Pallas zone. Exploiting it has proven difficult however, as Minovsky particle levels are extremely elevated (perhaps due to active emissions deep inside) and only the outermost edges are meaningfully explored. The Thunderbolt Sector also has particular resonance in the history of Luna, as it was here that the infamous pirate Glennon-Heights made his lair and where he was famously defeated by the Lunar Republican Space Force to bring about the Pax Lunari.
Colony Graveyard - Many of the colonies at L5 suffered slow damage over the long centuries of neglect and when the Seraphim awoke from their stasis vaults they repaired and repopulated those in best condition while scouring those of suspect structure or habitability of all useful technology, leaving them hulked derelicts situated between the L5 Home Cluster and the Thunderbolt Sector. Many of the industries and machinery now present in the Astarti fleet and Eden-511 were once found in these abandoned colony cylinders.
Pacific Shoal Zone - The largest shoal zone in Earth orbit, the Pacific shoal zone has the most derelicts and several clouds of elevated Minovsky particles but, overall, is not particularly dense. Moon Moon lies in the middle of the zone.
Atlantic Shoal Zone - Gripped by a dense and persistent cloud of Minovsky particles, the Atlantic shoal zone is seen as treacherous with geomagnetic storms regularly stirring the band of sensor-obscuring particles up into localized particle waves that can shut down even hardened electronics. Nonetheless, many shattered stations lie between the South American and African elevators and the lure of potential wealth is strong.
Indian Shoal Zone - The densest but most shattered shoal zone, the Indian shoal zone once had hundreds, perhaps thousands of small and mid-sized stations but now they are so much techno-wreckage. Minovsky levels are not terribly high, but physical hazards are rife and travel through the Indian shoal zone is, by necessity, a slow affair.
Munzo Shoal Zone - A small shoal zone at L-3, the Munzo shoal zone is a collection of colony scrap, shattered platforms and minovsky particles accumulated by the slow stream coming from the Thunderbolt Zone.
Theaxofwar
Definitely not a Bunny Cat in disguise.
- Location
- Standing right behind you
[X] Signed by Leult Gigi Maryam, Minister of Foreign Affairs, Representative of the New Ethiopian Empire.
Easter
Laziest lazier
- Location
- Bed
Eden 511 Department of Foreign Affairs
"Ductu Et Praesidio Posterorum"
The Axis Seraphim of Eden 511 would like to announce to Earth, the cradle of humanity, a gift. We have watched for a year as countless struggles ignited and reignited, as the Spcians above have jostled and jockeyed for power. And we have worked. Both on the surface to see the scars of Calamity kept in the past, and above to see the dreams of the future able to be realized.
We are finishing in the Earths orbit a station. Furnished to our finest standards, maintained by our own hands, it is a path to building that future we wish to see come to pass. It is the Scientificum Academiae Domum Education and Discovery Asteroid Station (SADEDAS)SADEDAS is not associated with or represented by the SADE orginization.
Laboratory spaces, archives, lecture halls, gardens and more fill its space for the best and brightest of Earth. Every citizen of Earth may walk its halls if they wish, none shall be denied their birthright to walk and learn amongst the stars.
So with great pride we invite all that would learn and discover of Earth to its halls. We invite you to collaborate with us in building the future beyond. To those Spacians who wish to attend, tours or visits may be scheduled via contacting the SADEDAS administration office.
-Martina Grey, Seraphim of Eden 511 Chief Diplomat
Mission Statement of SADEDAS: To provide a scientific forum to the collective peoples of Earth without malice or extractive motive.
Conditions and Terms of SADEDAS: All technologies developed as part of the joint effort will be provided freely to those actively involved in their development, including the Axis Seraphim. However, only the Earthian powers have the right to proliferation under any circumstances. Any Earthian state that obtains the technology is free to transfer it between whomever it wishes, be they Earthian or Spacian. The purpose of this stipulation is to give the nations of Earth greater choice in the matters at hand. Only nonmilitary technologies will be supported by SADEDAS. Technologies and avenues of research to be prioritized [Read: treated as having a lab allocated] will be done by majority vote of 3 unranked choices, with the Axis Seraphim breaking ties.
Those Earthian states that wish to join simply need to send a diplomat or message to Eden 511 affirming their interest. No Earthian state shall be rejected. To maintain active membership once having joined, all one must do is contribute funds or researchers to the efforts as best they are able.
[X] Martina Grey, Eden 511 Chief Diplomat
[X] Princess Charlotte, Countess of Champagne
"Present cooperation is the fulcrum of future peace"
Fancy Face
Tactically Superior
- Pronouns
- She/Her
THE DONATIVE OF BISKRA
For the pursuit of the universal truth, for the creation of a better world, and to break the cycle of conflict,
The Republic of Algeria and the Cult of Apollo-Mithras hereby agree to the following terms-
1. A formal church will be created to serve the spiritual needs of the faithful within the territory of the Algerian Socialist Republic.
2. This Algerian Church will be allowed to proselytize so long as it does so in accordance with Algerian law.
- A. The Algerian Church shall conduct political activity, or encourage political activity, only within the bounds of Algerian Law, or any other state which allows its structure and activity.
3. The Algerian Church will be allowed to collect tithes from the faithful in accordance with doctrine, but pledges that these funds will only be utilized for the Algerian Church or charitable activities under its stewardship.
4. The Algerian Church will coordinate with the Cult of Apollo-Mithras on matters of doctrine and in the selection of the Pontifex Maximus of the Algerian Temple.
- A. The Pontifex Maximus of the Algerian Temple shall be appointed from the ranks of the Algerian Clergy.
- B. Due to the potential for conflict or disagreement, the internal organization of the Algerian Church will be subject to a joint oversight committee made up of representatives of the Cult of Apollo-Mithras, Algeria, and any other state in which the Algerian Church operates.
5. Members of the Algerian Church shall be permitted to join the ranks of the Holy Orders, barring the Order of Leo and other "Martial" Orders.
6. The Algerian Church will be allowed to raise limited local forces for the defense and security of its temples.
6.a The security forces of the Algerian church will be limited to the use of small arms approved by the Algerian government. It will be restricted from employing or keeping any mobile suits except those expressly provided by the Algerian government for the purposes of security.
7. Prior to this agreement taking effect, the Cult of Apollo-Mithras will send a team of inspectors to investigate the conditions of the faith in Algeria.
7.a Algeria will provide an escort to ensure the security of the inspection team. Further, Algeria agrees to provide them access to whatever they request so long as doing so would not endanger Algerian national security.
8. Algeria pledges to protect the rights and freedoms of the Cult of Apollo-Mithras and to keep them safe from discrimination and harm. The passing or holding of any law that discriminates against the worshippers of Apollo-Mithras within the border of Algeria is to be illegal, with the law struck and the administrative body responsible will be held liable for compensation to the Apollo-Mithran Cult.
8.a The Cult of Apollo-Mithras acknowledges that no such discrimination against the followers of Apollo-Mithras is currently the law of the land in Algeria.
9. Under the discretion of the Cult of Apollo-Mithras and the Algerian Socialist Republic, further states may allow the Algerian church to operate either their borders so long as they agree to the terms of this treaty
10. Any member of the clergy of the Algerian Church who breaks this agreement, in whole or in part, will be tried under Algerian law.
The signatories of this treaty swear to uphold its provisions and act in good faith, to subject any matters of disagreement to further negotiation, and act in a manner befitting their station.
[X] Enlightened Sage Alexander of the Order of Promotheus, Speaker of Truth, Wanderer of the Sacred Lands, Quieter of Spirits, Student of the Universe, Director of Archeology at Toronto Royal University, Representing the Pontifex Maximus Pater Patrum Extraordinarii Honorius V and the Cult of Apollo-Mithras
[ ] Raysha ult Othma, Secretary of Religion, Socialist Republic of Algeria @Princess_Hex
For the pursuit of the universal truth, for the creation of a better world, and to break the cycle of conflict,
The Republic of Algeria and the Cult of Apollo-Mithras hereby agree to the following terms-
1. A formal church will be created to serve the spiritual needs of the faithful within the territory of the Algerian Socialist Republic.
2. This Algerian Church will be allowed to proselytize so long as it does so in accordance with Algerian law.
- A. The Algerian Church shall conduct political activity, or encourage political activity, only within the bounds of Algerian Law, or any other state which allows its structure and activity.
3. The Algerian Church will be allowed to collect tithes from the faithful in accordance with doctrine, but pledges that these funds will only be utilized for the Algerian Church or charitable activities under its stewardship.
4. The Algerian Church will coordinate with the Cult of Apollo-Mithras on matters of doctrine and in the selection of the Pontifex Maximus of the Algerian Temple.
- A. The Pontifex Maximus of the Algerian Temple shall be appointed from the ranks of the Algerian Clergy.
- B. Due to the potential for conflict or disagreement, the internal organization of the Algerian Church will be subject to a joint oversight committee made up of representatives of the Cult of Apollo-Mithras, Algeria, and any other state in which the Algerian Church operates.
5. Members of the Algerian Church shall be permitted to join the ranks of the Holy Orders, barring the Order of Leo and other "Martial" Orders.
6. The Algerian Church will be allowed to raise limited local forces for the defense and security of its temples.
6.a The security forces of the Algerian church will be limited to the use of small arms approved by the Algerian government. It will be restricted from employing or keeping any mobile suits except those expressly provided by the Algerian government for the purposes of security.
7. Prior to this agreement taking effect, the Cult of Apollo-Mithras will send a team of inspectors to investigate the conditions of the faith in Algeria.
7.a Algeria will provide an escort to ensure the security of the inspection team. Further, Algeria agrees to provide them access to whatever they request so long as doing so would not endanger Algerian national security.
8. Algeria pledges to protect the rights and freedoms of the Cult of Apollo-Mithras and to keep them safe from discrimination and harm. The passing or holding of any law that discriminates against the worshippers of Apollo-Mithras within the border of Algeria is to be illegal, with the law struck and the administrative body responsible will be held liable for compensation to the Apollo-Mithran Cult.
8.a The Cult of Apollo-Mithras acknowledges that no such discrimination against the followers of Apollo-Mithras is currently the law of the land in Algeria.
9. Under the discretion of the Cult of Apollo-Mithras and the Algerian Socialist Republic, further states may allow the Algerian church to operate either their borders so long as they agree to the terms of this treaty
10. Any member of the clergy of the Algerian Church who breaks this agreement, in whole or in part, will be tried under Algerian law.
The signatories of this treaty swear to uphold its provisions and act in good faith, to subject any matters of disagreement to further negotiation, and act in a manner befitting their station.
[X] Enlightened Sage Alexander of the Order of Promotheus, Speaker of Truth, Wanderer of the Sacred Lands, Quieter of Spirits, Student of the Universe, Director of Archeology at Toronto Royal University, Representing the Pontifex Maximus Pater Patrum Extraordinarii Honorius V and the Cult of Apollo-Mithras
[ ] Raysha ult Othma, Secretary of Religion, Socialist Republic of Algeria @Princess_Hex
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- Pronouns
- She/Her
The Algerian Socialist Republic exists for one reason, and that is the livelihood and well being of our citizens. With this act, we take a step towards more fully fulfilling our most important task.
We would like to extend our eternal gratitude to the Cult of Apollo-Mithras for working with us, and for their generosity in the process of creating this new institution. May this be the start of something great.
[X] Raysha ult Othma, Secretary of Religion, Socialist Republic of Algeria
Fancy Face
Tactically Superior
- Pronouns
- She/Her
[X] Pontifex Maximus, Pater Patrum Extraordinarii Honorious V, Steward of the Eternal Flame, Keeper of the Higher Mysteries, Guardian of the Sacred Lands, Defier of the Dark, Speaker of Truth, Archon of the Holy City, Eternal Grandmaster of the Order of Leo, Sage of Promotheus, Brother of Helios, Son of the Unconquered Son
[X] Pontifex Maximus, Pater Patrum Extraordinarii Honorious V, Steward of the Eternal Flame, Keeper of the Higher Mysteries, Guardian of the Sacred Lands, Defier of the Dark, Speaker of Truth, Archon of the Holy City, Eternal Grandmaster of the Order of Leo, Sage of Promotheus, Brother of Helios, Son of the Unconquered Son
[X] Enlightened Sage Alexander of the Order of Promotheus, Speaker of Truth, Wanderer of the Sacred Lands, Quieter of Spirits, Student of the Universe, Director of Archeology at Toronto Royal University, Representing the Pontifex Maximus Pater Patrum Extraordinarii Honorius V and the Cult of Apollo-Mithras
[X] Enlightened Sage Alexander of the Order of Promotheus, Speaker of Truth, Wanderer of the Sacred Lands, Quieter of Spirits, Student of the Universe, Director of Archeology at Toronto Royal University, Representing the Pontifex Maximus Pater Patrum Extraordinarii Honorius V and the Cult of Apollo-Mithras
TO RESOLVE THE MATTER OF THE CRIMEAN INCURSION,
The Cult of Apollo-Mithras shall send a party of inspectors to ascertain that the Algerian mission to the region is done without ill intent and without the violation of holy ground.
[X] Pontificatrix Asia, Mater Matrum Nasrin of the Fallen Anatolian Temple, Shepardess of the Betrayed, Scion of the Royal Blood, Witness to the Glory of the Golden Age, War-Mourner of the Companions of Mithras, Representing the Pontifex Maximus Pater Patrum Extraordinarii Honorious V and the Cult of Apollo-Mithras
[ ] @Princess_Hex
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- Pronouns
- She/Her
We welcome the investigators of the Cult of Apollo-Mithras and pledge to offer them free reign to investigate our activities to ensure proper compliance with religious laws and customs are maintained. The duty to do so will fall to Mimount Benchemsi, Lieutenant General in charge of the Crimean garrison
[X] Raysha ult Othma, Algerian Secretary of Religion
DanBaque
Let's Have Fun
- Location
- Occupied Catalonian Countries
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] Aldynay
DanBaque
Let's Have Fun
- Location
- Occupied Catalonian Countries
- Pronouns
- He/Him
ANNOUNCING
A Series of Balls
To be held in the cities of Siberia
For the purpose of the integration of the growing vatnik population
&
The base children of the great bloodlines of the great host
TO BE A BANQUET OF MATRIMONIES
By the munificence of the Great Tsar, the eligible clones in service to Siberia, and the unmarried pleasure-children of nobility, are all invited to the three-week carnival balls of the Feast of Promethean Glory.
These balls are to be conducted nightly, orchestrated for the purpose of courting and love. Funds raised and proceeds will all go to the Apollo-Mithran charities for war-widowed and war-orphaned.
Let no milites of the Great Siberian Host remain unmarried and unhappy; let them seek each other and embrace. Let the flowers of space suck of the nectar of earth, let the blood of centennial glories reunite with their kingdoms. The balls of these weeks will be held so that the illegitimate children of the ample nobility, still of highborn blood, may seek new offices; and that the flashbirthed clones may become full part of Siberia. Let no spacer who wills it think themselves outside the host, let the new tendons of Our host enmesh themselves entirely.
Let the fears of the noble bloodlines be allayed: in new women lie solid tradition, not revolution.
- Location
- New England, State of Confusion
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Axis Seraph Order of Eden 511 Convent of Communications
Promulgated by the Central Cloister as representatives of the Axis Seraphs.
Drafted by Martina Grey in her office of Chief Diplomat.
Directed to the Government of the Alpine Imperate
Promulgated by the Central Cloister as representatives of the Axis Seraphs.
Drafted by Martina Grey in her office of Chief Diplomat.
Directed to the Government of the Alpine Imperate
The Axis Seraphim of Eden 511 hereby declare that a state of War exists between ourselves and the Alpine Imperate on behalf of the Cold League. Should their soldiers and government wish to join this conflict, we leave the choice to them.
As a result of prolonged threats both spoken and done, our patience has been tried.
Through the repeated attempts to entrap nearly half a dozen uninvolved states such as the Lunari, Pallas, ZOLON, the Cradle Organization, and the Lillum in unjust invasions, our grace has been exhausted.
By invoking the fear of nuclear weapons directed at ourselves and the people of the Cold League, our anger has been roused.
Because of the Imperate's admission of ceaseless greed and desire for other nations' subjugation, our distaste has solidified.
Provoked by the stated intent to support insurgents against the terms ending the civil war inside the Cold League, we recognize your challenge.
Via the repudiation of our best intentions and good faith at every turn, we turn from you.
So today as the year turns to the 2nd of the Earth's 2nd millennium, in response to the continued aggression from the Alpine Imperate, the Axis Seraphim affirms that a state of war now exists between our nations. Our goals are laid out in the following points. We repudiate any claim to territory not originally that of the Cold League as well as any desire for change of the Alpine Imperate's form of governance.
1. The Return of all occupied, seized, and looted items & territory regardless of their perceived market and cultural value to the state they were unlawfully taken from.
2. The removal of all Alpine Imperate forces able to threaten Cold League territory, defined as any forces in the Baltic and North Seas, England and its surrounding waters, the Faroe Islands, and any militarized orbital assets that enter that region. Should any attacks originate from mainland Europe against the Danish Cold League, the armies that do so will be included in the above scope.
3. Reparations, official apology, and truth for the unjust invasion of the Cold League.
4. The abdication of the Alpine Imperial Throne by the current monarch and the ascension of the next in line.
To those parties, organizations, and states on the wider world stage that watch us as we descend so soon from the sky once more onto humanity's cradle, we apologize. We the Axis Seraphs see the safety and protection of humanity as our highest goal, and it is with heavy hearts and sorrowful minds that we act in such a manner to preserve those ideals.
The people of the Cold League deserve protection against the unwarranted aggression of the Alpine Imperate. We shall continue to offer it in the face of all adversity and declare to those of the Cold League that we shall move all that we can to see that the coming violence does not fall upon your heads. We shall make things right.
To the Earthian people who look to the sky now in fear for what may come forth, we promise you this: we will set things right. Whatever price the Alpine Imperate forces upon us in the course of seeing justice done, we will bear it in the name of the innocent. Where we tread the privations of war shall be banished to the greatest extent of our will. When we leave, for we will leave victorious or in defeat having gained not an inch of land, we will leave where we have been the better. This is our solemn promise in the name of Sol.
The Central Cloister Vows in the name of Sol, our Lady of Light, that all alternatives have been exhausted. May she be merciful in her judgment.
- Location
- Australia
Announcement from Zolpher-1
Anlscar Orbital Cluster
Let this be the beginning of a new chapter in our history.
BE NOT AFRAID
ENIGMA IS WATCHING
To the liars and invaders who cloak themselves in the guise of Angels, we reject you.
Half a year ago you came to us cloaked in the guise of goodness to make a deal for the fate of the Cold League, to back your puppets and fulfil our plans for a free Cold League. We were fools who thought you honest.
When the Gwyn affair happened, but peace could yet be salvaged, you stood aside and gave your blessings as your puppets showed their colours were just like your own, although we did not recognise it at the time.
When your puppets bit your hand, and you finally took the reins directly, we were fools for thinking that the Treaty you had signed and discarded had any meeting, nor failing to anticipate your appetite for conquest and dominion. Again and again you presented false agreement only to walk it back the moment it no longer suited you, and you could force it through. Yet, we were naive and put them down to honest mistakes and miscommunications.
When you couldn't, you pretended you had no interest or the matter was settled only to return to it later and force it on your terms, always worse terms. We withdrew from Denmark under the threat of invasion for your farce of a treaty once you were confident you could threaten us into compliance under the threat of invasion. So in the name of peace we withdrew.
Then you push again, for your appetite was not yet sated, this time though we had learnt our lesson and denied your attempts at blackmail. We refused to just buckle and kneel under your threats again, we asked others to help, sought unconventional means of deterring your aggression.
So here we are, because you could not take, could not stand being denied even over something so paltry as minor islands which you had previously so happily repeatedly dismissed as nothing of consequence.
Your "good faith" is as hollow as your word, even in your own declaration of self-righteousness. You rejected every alternative and compromise offered, even ones proposed by the one you had selected to mediate, you did not exhaust the alternatives you turned away from them so you can have your way.
You proclaim that you are a bringer of peace, only to turn around and ignite a war with the other face, declare that a matter is settled only to bring it up once more when you think you can press the advantage. To make agreements and give assents only to walk back once it no longer suits you. To make hollow claims that of course you don't intend to interfere in our governance and nation, only to turn around and demand that our Monarch be forced to abdicate for the temerity of refusing you.
So go forth, false angel, clad in self-righteousness over your decision to wage war for your ambition. Go forth, we will be waiting.
For we will not debase ourselves for you, we shall not replace our Queen who has done so much for the nation on your spiteful demand, we will not spew lies upon your threat of violence. We will fight, and if necessary we will die, but we will do so with our heads held high for Queen and Country to keep our dream alive, to not let your false light snuff it out.
To others who want to know the truth, to see behind the facade the false angel has erected for itself, feel free to come. We are happy to share our records, our transcripts, our logs, we are happy to expose the shallowness of these false angels piece by piece, lie by damning lie.
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- Location
- New England, State of Confusion
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Axis Seraph Order of Eden 511 Convent of Communications
So be it.
- Pronouns
- She/Her
It hadn't even been a moment's incaution, that was the worst part. Siham had been walking as carefully as she could, but the mud under her feet shifted. Before she knew it, the cold waters of the Om had enveloped her in their embrace and had begun to whisk her away.
Siham had never swum a day in her life. She had gotten basic lessons on how to tread water, but her home was nowhere near anything larger than a stream. She had only left home a few months ago to join the army, never really knowing what it would be like to leave Algeria.
It had been mud, and rain, and the pounding of artillery shells until the border between river and land was so blurred as to be unrecognisable. It had been frantic shooting at shapes she could barely make out in the rain and hiding as bullets flew by her. It was the defences being so utterly torn to shreds that the river filled up trenches she had defended less than a full day ago.
The shock of the fall had forced the air from Siham's lungs, and the current made her efforts to get above water useless. Her vision started to darken as the water filled her lungs, and she felt herself slipping away. The world faded to black, and her thoughts began to slip away.
Hands plunged through the water to grasp Siham, pulling her close to a body only a little less cold than her own. Strong legs pushed, and soon they had broken the surface. Even carrying another the person was able to make it back to shore safely.
Siham was rolled on to her back and panicked hands began clumsily going through the basics of first aid. Actions that had been drilled into her mind until they were instinct suddenly felt hazy and difficult.
"Come on. Come on," Meriame whispered to herself as she did the chest compressions. Her fingers felt numb from the cold as they dug into the sodden fabric of the girl's uniform.
There was nothing, she'd gone through the process three times with no response.
Meriame put two fingers to the girl's neck with dread spreading through her body. She waited desperately for something, anything.
Nothing. No heartbeat.
Soaking wet and exhausted, Meriame slammed a fist into the mud with a wet thump. "Shit," she hissed. The dead woman lay there underneath her, and Meriame couldn't take her eyes off her.
It wasn't until after the sun had gone down that Meriame reached the edge of camp. The weight of the body she was trying to carry had left her arms aching from the exertion but she refused to let go. Her foot slipped and she went down a yelp, unable to catch herself in time.
As she sat on the ground, panting, a shape detached from the camp and approached. "Major?" came Captain Timmi Hanoune's voice. "Is that you?"
A light flash across them followed by a sweat. Boots splashed through the mud until they were right beside her, but Meriame was too tired to turn around. "What are you doing, Major?" Hanoune asked, and a warm hand grabbed her shoulder as the Captain crouched down next to her. "Who is this?"
"I don't- I don't know," Meriame stuttered.
Hanoune patted down the body, looking her over. "Is she hurt, is she awake? I'll call for a-"
"She's dead," Meriame interrupted. "She's dead."
There was a moment of silence before Meriame saw Hanoune lean around to face her directly. "Major Lamine. What are you doing dragging a dead woman into camp in the dark?" Her voice was calm, but Meriame could hear a complicated mixture of emotions behind it that she was far too tired to untangle.
Meriame opened her mouth to answer, but no words came out. She closed her mouth, took a breath, and then tried again. "She needs to be laid to rest," she managed.
Captain Hanoune looked her in the eyes for a few long moments before standing up. "Come on," she commanded. When Meriame gave no signs of moving, she felt the hand on her shoulder slip beneath her arms to pull her up by force. "Come on," came the command again, but Meriame's hands wouldn't let go of the woman's uniform.
Too tired to fight back, it didn't take long for Hanoune to drag Meriame away and to her feet. Strong hands turned her around and walked her towards the light. Meriame felt her entire world shrink down to the ground right ahead of her feet as the cold and tiredness finally claimed their holds on her limbs. Hanoune made sure that none of her stumbles led to a fall, but it likely wouldn't have made much difference. She was covered in mud, her pilot suit barely visible beneath the cloying muck of the Om's river bank, and she watched as some of it sloughed off as she walked.
She was dimly aware of Hanoune stopping her shortly after they entered camp. "Hey, there's a soldier there outside camp that needs her last rights," she said to someone that Meriame couldn't make out.
"Is that Ri-"
"Yeah, now could you go take care of that?"
"Is she okay?"
There was a pause, likely an exchange of looks between the parties.
"Yeah," said Hanoune. "Just a bit shaken up. I'll get her cleaned up."
Meriame didn't really register anything for the rest of the trip through the camp. The dim sounds of people moving around and the cries of the wounded fading into nothing but a low buzz at the edge of her hearing. At some point a towel got placed around her shoulders, which didn't do much to help. The warmer atmosphere did have an effect, and she could slowly feel the feeling creep back into her hands. Still, it was an effort to keep her feet moving, one at a time, forward.
At long last the camp's lights and sounds were muffled even further as she was brought into her quarters. Hanoune didn't let her sit down, no matter how much Meriame suddenly felt like collapsing into bed. Instead, she felt Hanoune towel her down to get the worst of the mud off, lifting her arms up to get all of it.
"Alright, let's get that suit off," she said.
Just conscious enough to protest, Meriame said "My suit is-"
"It's filthy," Hanoune interrupted. "And soaked through, and no matter how good the insulation is it's going to get you sick if you stay in it. If you haven't gotten sick already."
Unwilling to push the issue, Meriame nodded. The suits were made to be easy to get in and out of for emergency mobilisations, but when actually soaked through they were still a pain. Eventually Meriame was down to her underclothes, which had fared only a little better.
Hanoune breathed out a deep sigh. "Alright, you get changed. I'll bring this to laundry and come back."
By the time Hanoune returned, Meriame had managed to get herself some clean clothes. Hanoune brought her to the showers and waited quietly while she clumsily washed herself. Finally, with clean clothes and mostly clean body, she was brought back to her room and allowed to collapse on her bed. Hanoune helped by wrapping an extra blanket around her shoulders, and as soon as Meriame felt Ms. Ears comforting plushness she clutched her plushie tight to her chest.
Hanoune crouched down in front of her, within the narrow cone of vision she had kept through all this time. "Are you okay?"
Meriame had noticed Hanoune looking in the shower, checking her for wounds. She didn't have any, except for a couple small bruises. She knew that wasn't what Hanoune was asking, but she nodded anyways.
"Can you tell me what happened?" Captain Hanoune was a boisterous woman with a husky voice and boundless energy. That she was taking the care to slow down and talk this gently wasn't lost on Meriame, who would probably appreciate the gesture later.
Meriame took her time collecting herself, she felt awfully scattered and adrift. Ms. Ears helped keep her together though, so she was able to speak. "I saw a person in the river while I was out, so I jumped in to try to save her." Hanoune nodded, following along. "I got her to shore, and then I tried to revive her, but I couldn't, so then..."
Hanoune thankfully finished for her. "So then you brought her back to camp so she could at least have her last rights." Meriame nodded in confirmation, but that didn't seem to satisfy Hanoune. "So what's got you like this? I don't think this is about a failed rescue."
When Meriame didn't reply, Hanoune pushed further. "I've seen you try rescues more than a few times in the last couple of days. Some have worked, like that girl who was clinging on to the half sunk boat yesterday, and some didn't, like today. None of them have gotten you like this."
"I'm just tired," Meriame mumbled into the back of Ms. Ears' head.
Hanoune shook her head, her expression sinking into a frown. "I don't think that's it. I don't doubt you're exhausted, but I've seen what you're like when you're tired."
Meriame shook her head, wanting the conversation to end. "I'm just tired." It wasn't wrong either, even if it wasn't the full truth. As the hazy fog from earlier started to fade away, she just wanted to be alone.
Or, at least she did, before a hand gently reached out and rested on her knee. She raised her eyes up from where they had sunk to see Hanoune had leaned closer and was looking her right in the eyes.
"Meri," Hanoune said. "Please?"
Hearing the earnestness in her friend's voice finally broke through the last of Meriame's defences. "I'm tired of seeing corpses, Timmi." Her voice felt cavernously loud, even though she hadn't stopped mumbling into Ms. Ears' soft head. "There's so many that it feels like the entire world died on the banks of this river. I read the reports, hundreds of thousands of people dead or missing."
"Next to that number I just feel so small," Meriame admitted. Her grip tightened on Ms. Ears, crushing the plushie in the hope of finding every last shred of comfort. "When I think about it, it terrifies me. That a battle could kill this many people."
Timmi Hanoune waited to see if Meriame would finish. When there wasn't any more, she got up and knelt right next to the bed, right next to Meriame. The warmth of her friend's body finally got a chance to spread to her own, the only warmth she had actually felt in what had felt like years. "Take your time, I'm not going anywhere."
"I- I just..." Meriame stammered, but was calmed when Timmi's hand rested on hers. "It's supposed to be better than this, right? Me being here is supposed to make this not happen I thought."
"Is this like when we left the Amazon?" Timmi asked. "You got to fight, right?"
Meriame felt like lashing out, but couldn't muster the energy for it. She knew Timmi Hanoune well enough by now to know that she wasn't the best at these kinds of talks. "I finally got the chance I had been wanting, Timmi, and what happened?" She turned her head, lifting it enough to be able to look down at the Captain. "Our contribution mattered so little that we barely show up in the report from our own command. We were a footnote!"
"And half of the people I came here with are gone," she finished.
Hanoune shook her gently. "Hey now," she said. "Don't be like that. A lot of them are alive, and a lot of the casualties didn't come from our group."
"Eighty thousand people whose lives are over," Meriame said. "Am I really supposed to ignore that?"
"Well, no, but-"
"Of course not." Meriame said. Her voice wasn't shaking anymore, though every word hurt to speak. "It's my job to lead the charge, after all. I'm supposed to be protecting everyone, the champion that will end the fight." Her pilot suit, when it was cleaned, would have the special badge that no other person in all of Algeria had, the rank of Ace. "Was I a champion to those eighty thousand, Timmi?"
To her credit, Timmi tried to muster a defence. "You're doing your best."
She hadn't meant it to, but Timmi's words cut right into Meriame's heart. She could feel her throat choke up as sobs threatened to spill out. "This can't be my best, Timmi. If a riverbank full of corpses is what happens when I'm doing my best, then what's the point of me being an ace?"
Timmi couldn't find words to respond, so Meriame kept going. "I have to be better, I have to be able to do more. Every mistake I make, every time I slow down, people die." She saw her friend getting more concerned, but pushed before she could interject. "Do you have any idea what that means? It means every life out there was mine to protect, and I didn't."
"But nobody could!" Timmi finally managed to say. "You're asking the impossible."
"If it was impossible then why was I made ace?" Meriame asked, keeping her voice level.
"Because you're incredible," Timmi snapped back. "I've seen you in a mobile suit, and I've never seen anybody move like you. You sure beat me the first time we met. You fought in the revolution, you once held off four K-types and an entire landing party of mondist rebels by yourself and when reinforcements got there only two of their mobile suits were left and not a single mondist had made it to shore." She stopped, taking a breath. The momentum from her speech had carried her up to a half stand, which she followed through to stand up and then sit on the bed beside Meriame. "You're amazing, Lamine."
Being joined on the bed was the last thing Meriame wanted, so she moved herself over so that at least they weren't touching. "It's not good enough."
Timmi sighed, though Meriame had lost sight of what she was doing exactly. "Meriame." She rarely used Meriame's first name, even when they were alone. She'd never explained why, but it did mean that when she used it now it felt much more weighty. "After the revolution, Algeria became a socialist country, right?"
Not knowing where this was going, Meriame nodded.
"Liberals, Mondists, the monarchies, they believe in kings that have absolute power. They are blessed by whatever god they say they are blessed by and so their decisions are divinely ordained." Meriame could feel her brow knitting as she tried to guess why what Timmi was saying was relevant. "They tell stories of knights slaying ancient machines and heroes that could match the gods."
"But we've moved past that, Meriame." Timmi gently turned her head so that she could at least see each others' faces. "You fought for it, right? The idea that we're all equal, that we're all in this together. Heroes aren't real, a knight in armour isn't going to stop a ramping automated machine from the calamity. It's fantasies, to make people believe that some people are special, and everyone else isn't. What is real is ordinary people working together to build something great."
"You don't have to win the war by yourself, Meri." Timmi clapped her on the shoulder before getting up. Meriame could tell that this was about the limit of what her friend felt capable of handling. "I know better than to think you'll get over this, but remember that, okay? We all have to do our part, we're all responsible. For every win, and every loss."
It hadn't helped, not really, even if Meriame knew it was a good point. Emotionally it didn't sit right, like it was meant for someone else.
"You get some rest, okay?" She nodded. "Alright."
Just before Captain Hanoune left the room, she turned around for a moment. "I almost forgot. Orders came in, you're being recalled to Algeria."
Meriame looked up, hope flickering in her eyes that maybe she was losing ace status, that her performance had been poor enough that she would be returned to just being a regular pilot. She had no idea how wrong she was.
"You're being given the A-Minor they found in the ATLAS fortress. The note says they're hoping this will actually stay our best suit for a while. It needs repairs, but they expect to have it ready for the next quarter."
Somehow, Meriame's heart sunk even lower than it already had, down into the floor. "What about Blueberry?" she asked.
"I'm sure her new pilot will do her justice," Hanoune said. "Or you can ask to keep her, as a reserve unit."
Meriame shuddered at the thought of trying to claim two suits at once. No matter how much she loved her Type-2, that was a step too far. "I'd like some time off, if it's damaged."
Hanoune gave her a look that said a great many things. "What for?"
"I just want to take the return trip slowly," Meriame said without any real plan. "Clear my head. I'll take Blueberry back with me, so I'll be fine."
The two shared a long, slow look. A silent and secret battle of wills playing out between them. Please, Meriame thought. Give me this, at the very least give me this.
"I'll fill out the paperwork," Hanoune said. "You get back to Algeria on time, safe and sound, or I'll hunt you down myself."
"Deal," Meriame said.
Once her door closed, Meriame ult Lamine immediately fell backwards onto her bed. She was hardly ready for sleep, the position was uncomfortable, and he wasn't even properly covered in blankets. None of that mattered, and exhaustion claimed her only moments later.
Siham had never swum a day in her life. She had gotten basic lessons on how to tread water, but her home was nowhere near anything larger than a stream. She had only left home a few months ago to join the army, never really knowing what it would be like to leave Algeria.
It had been mud, and rain, and the pounding of artillery shells until the border between river and land was so blurred as to be unrecognisable. It had been frantic shooting at shapes she could barely make out in the rain and hiding as bullets flew by her. It was the defences being so utterly torn to shreds that the river filled up trenches she had defended less than a full day ago.
The shock of the fall had forced the air from Siham's lungs, and the current made her efforts to get above water useless. Her vision started to darken as the water filled her lungs, and she felt herself slipping away. The world faded to black, and her thoughts began to slip away.
Hands plunged through the water to grasp Siham, pulling her close to a body only a little less cold than her own. Strong legs pushed, and soon they had broken the surface. Even carrying another the person was able to make it back to shore safely.
Siham was rolled on to her back and panicked hands began clumsily going through the basics of first aid. Actions that had been drilled into her mind until they were instinct suddenly felt hazy and difficult.
"Come on. Come on," Meriame whispered to herself as she did the chest compressions. Her fingers felt numb from the cold as they dug into the sodden fabric of the girl's uniform.
There was nothing, she'd gone through the process three times with no response.
Meriame put two fingers to the girl's neck with dread spreading through her body. She waited desperately for something, anything.
Nothing. No heartbeat.
Soaking wet and exhausted, Meriame slammed a fist into the mud with a wet thump. "Shit," she hissed. The dead woman lay there underneath her, and Meriame couldn't take her eyes off her.
It wasn't until after the sun had gone down that Meriame reached the edge of camp. The weight of the body she was trying to carry had left her arms aching from the exertion but she refused to let go. Her foot slipped and she went down a yelp, unable to catch herself in time.
As she sat on the ground, panting, a shape detached from the camp and approached. "Major?" came Captain Timmi Hanoune's voice. "Is that you?"
A light flash across them followed by a sweat. Boots splashed through the mud until they were right beside her, but Meriame was too tired to turn around. "What are you doing, Major?" Hanoune asked, and a warm hand grabbed her shoulder as the Captain crouched down next to her. "Who is this?"
"I don't- I don't know," Meriame stuttered.
Hanoune patted down the body, looking her over. "Is she hurt, is she awake? I'll call for a-"
"She's dead," Meriame interrupted. "She's dead."
There was a moment of silence before Meriame saw Hanoune lean around to face her directly. "Major Lamine. What are you doing dragging a dead woman into camp in the dark?" Her voice was calm, but Meriame could hear a complicated mixture of emotions behind it that she was far too tired to untangle.
Meriame opened her mouth to answer, but no words came out. She closed her mouth, took a breath, and then tried again. "She needs to be laid to rest," she managed.
Captain Hanoune looked her in the eyes for a few long moments before standing up. "Come on," she commanded. When Meriame gave no signs of moving, she felt the hand on her shoulder slip beneath her arms to pull her up by force. "Come on," came the command again, but Meriame's hands wouldn't let go of the woman's uniform.
Too tired to fight back, it didn't take long for Hanoune to drag Meriame away and to her feet. Strong hands turned her around and walked her towards the light. Meriame felt her entire world shrink down to the ground right ahead of her feet as the cold and tiredness finally claimed their holds on her limbs. Hanoune made sure that none of her stumbles led to a fall, but it likely wouldn't have made much difference. She was covered in mud, her pilot suit barely visible beneath the cloying muck of the Om's river bank, and she watched as some of it sloughed off as she walked.
She was dimly aware of Hanoune stopping her shortly after they entered camp. "Hey, there's a soldier there outside camp that needs her last rights," she said to someone that Meriame couldn't make out.
"Is that Ri-"
"Yeah, now could you go take care of that?"
"Is she okay?"
There was a pause, likely an exchange of looks between the parties.
"Yeah," said Hanoune. "Just a bit shaken up. I'll get her cleaned up."
Meriame didn't really register anything for the rest of the trip through the camp. The dim sounds of people moving around and the cries of the wounded fading into nothing but a low buzz at the edge of her hearing. At some point a towel got placed around her shoulders, which didn't do much to help. The warmer atmosphere did have an effect, and she could slowly feel the feeling creep back into her hands. Still, it was an effort to keep her feet moving, one at a time, forward.
At long last the camp's lights and sounds were muffled even further as she was brought into her quarters. Hanoune didn't let her sit down, no matter how much Meriame suddenly felt like collapsing into bed. Instead, she felt Hanoune towel her down to get the worst of the mud off, lifting her arms up to get all of it.
"Alright, let's get that suit off," she said.
Just conscious enough to protest, Meriame said "My suit is-"
"It's filthy," Hanoune interrupted. "And soaked through, and no matter how good the insulation is it's going to get you sick if you stay in it. If you haven't gotten sick already."
Unwilling to push the issue, Meriame nodded. The suits were made to be easy to get in and out of for emergency mobilisations, but when actually soaked through they were still a pain. Eventually Meriame was down to her underclothes, which had fared only a little better.
Hanoune breathed out a deep sigh. "Alright, you get changed. I'll bring this to laundry and come back."
By the time Hanoune returned, Meriame had managed to get herself some clean clothes. Hanoune brought her to the showers and waited quietly while she clumsily washed herself. Finally, with clean clothes and mostly clean body, she was brought back to her room and allowed to collapse on her bed. Hanoune helped by wrapping an extra blanket around her shoulders, and as soon as Meriame felt Ms. Ears comforting plushness she clutched her plushie tight to her chest.
Hanoune crouched down in front of her, within the narrow cone of vision she had kept through all this time. "Are you okay?"
Meriame had noticed Hanoune looking in the shower, checking her for wounds. She didn't have any, except for a couple small bruises. She knew that wasn't what Hanoune was asking, but she nodded anyways.
"Can you tell me what happened?" Captain Hanoune was a boisterous woman with a husky voice and boundless energy. That she was taking the care to slow down and talk this gently wasn't lost on Meriame, who would probably appreciate the gesture later.
Meriame took her time collecting herself, she felt awfully scattered and adrift. Ms. Ears helped keep her together though, so she was able to speak. "I saw a person in the river while I was out, so I jumped in to try to save her." Hanoune nodded, following along. "I got her to shore, and then I tried to revive her, but I couldn't, so then..."
Hanoune thankfully finished for her. "So then you brought her back to camp so she could at least have her last rights." Meriame nodded in confirmation, but that didn't seem to satisfy Hanoune. "So what's got you like this? I don't think this is about a failed rescue."
When Meriame didn't reply, Hanoune pushed further. "I've seen you try rescues more than a few times in the last couple of days. Some have worked, like that girl who was clinging on to the half sunk boat yesterday, and some didn't, like today. None of them have gotten you like this."
"I'm just tired," Meriame mumbled into the back of Ms. Ears' head.
Hanoune shook her head, her expression sinking into a frown. "I don't think that's it. I don't doubt you're exhausted, but I've seen what you're like when you're tired."
Meriame shook her head, wanting the conversation to end. "I'm just tired." It wasn't wrong either, even if it wasn't the full truth. As the hazy fog from earlier started to fade away, she just wanted to be alone.
Or, at least she did, before a hand gently reached out and rested on her knee. She raised her eyes up from where they had sunk to see Hanoune had leaned closer and was looking her right in the eyes.
"Meri," Hanoune said. "Please?"
Hearing the earnestness in her friend's voice finally broke through the last of Meriame's defences. "I'm tired of seeing corpses, Timmi." Her voice felt cavernously loud, even though she hadn't stopped mumbling into Ms. Ears' soft head. "There's so many that it feels like the entire world died on the banks of this river. I read the reports, hundreds of thousands of people dead or missing."
"Next to that number I just feel so small," Meriame admitted. Her grip tightened on Ms. Ears, crushing the plushie in the hope of finding every last shred of comfort. "When I think about it, it terrifies me. That a battle could kill this many people."
Timmi Hanoune waited to see if Meriame would finish. When there wasn't any more, she got up and knelt right next to the bed, right next to Meriame. The warmth of her friend's body finally got a chance to spread to her own, the only warmth she had actually felt in what had felt like years. "Take your time, I'm not going anywhere."
"I- I just..." Meriame stammered, but was calmed when Timmi's hand rested on hers. "It's supposed to be better than this, right? Me being here is supposed to make this not happen I thought."
"Is this like when we left the Amazon?" Timmi asked. "You got to fight, right?"
Meriame felt like lashing out, but couldn't muster the energy for it. She knew Timmi Hanoune well enough by now to know that she wasn't the best at these kinds of talks. "I finally got the chance I had been wanting, Timmi, and what happened?" She turned her head, lifting it enough to be able to look down at the Captain. "Our contribution mattered so little that we barely show up in the report from our own command. We were a footnote!"
"And half of the people I came here with are gone," she finished.
Hanoune shook her gently. "Hey now," she said. "Don't be like that. A lot of them are alive, and a lot of the casualties didn't come from our group."
"Eighty thousand people whose lives are over," Meriame said. "Am I really supposed to ignore that?"
"Well, no, but-"
"Of course not." Meriame said. Her voice wasn't shaking anymore, though every word hurt to speak. "It's my job to lead the charge, after all. I'm supposed to be protecting everyone, the champion that will end the fight." Her pilot suit, when it was cleaned, would have the special badge that no other person in all of Algeria had, the rank of Ace. "Was I a champion to those eighty thousand, Timmi?"
To her credit, Timmi tried to muster a defence. "You're doing your best."
She hadn't meant it to, but Timmi's words cut right into Meriame's heart. She could feel her throat choke up as sobs threatened to spill out. "This can't be my best, Timmi. If a riverbank full of corpses is what happens when I'm doing my best, then what's the point of me being an ace?"
Timmi couldn't find words to respond, so Meriame kept going. "I have to be better, I have to be able to do more. Every mistake I make, every time I slow down, people die." She saw her friend getting more concerned, but pushed before she could interject. "Do you have any idea what that means? It means every life out there was mine to protect, and I didn't."
"But nobody could!" Timmi finally managed to say. "You're asking the impossible."
"If it was impossible then why was I made ace?" Meriame asked, keeping her voice level.
"Because you're incredible," Timmi snapped back. "I've seen you in a mobile suit, and I've never seen anybody move like you. You sure beat me the first time we met. You fought in the revolution, you once held off four K-types and an entire landing party of mondist rebels by yourself and when reinforcements got there only two of their mobile suits were left and not a single mondist had made it to shore." She stopped, taking a breath. The momentum from her speech had carried her up to a half stand, which she followed through to stand up and then sit on the bed beside Meriame. "You're amazing, Lamine."
Being joined on the bed was the last thing Meriame wanted, so she moved herself over so that at least they weren't touching. "It's not good enough."
Timmi sighed, though Meriame had lost sight of what she was doing exactly. "Meriame." She rarely used Meriame's first name, even when they were alone. She'd never explained why, but it did mean that when she used it now it felt much more weighty. "After the revolution, Algeria became a socialist country, right?"
Not knowing where this was going, Meriame nodded.
"Liberals, Mondists, the monarchies, they believe in kings that have absolute power. They are blessed by whatever god they say they are blessed by and so their decisions are divinely ordained." Meriame could feel her brow knitting as she tried to guess why what Timmi was saying was relevant. "They tell stories of knights slaying ancient machines and heroes that could match the gods."
"But we've moved past that, Meriame." Timmi gently turned her head so that she could at least see each others' faces. "You fought for it, right? The idea that we're all equal, that we're all in this together. Heroes aren't real, a knight in armour isn't going to stop a ramping automated machine from the calamity. It's fantasies, to make people believe that some people are special, and everyone else isn't. What is real is ordinary people working together to build something great."
"You don't have to win the war by yourself, Meri." Timmi clapped her on the shoulder before getting up. Meriame could tell that this was about the limit of what her friend felt capable of handling. "I know better than to think you'll get over this, but remember that, okay? We all have to do our part, we're all responsible. For every win, and every loss."
It hadn't helped, not really, even if Meriame knew it was a good point. Emotionally it didn't sit right, like it was meant for someone else.
"You get some rest, okay?" She nodded. "Alright."
Just before Captain Hanoune left the room, she turned around for a moment. "I almost forgot. Orders came in, you're being recalled to Algeria."
Meriame looked up, hope flickering in her eyes that maybe she was losing ace status, that her performance had been poor enough that she would be returned to just being a regular pilot. She had no idea how wrong she was.
"You're being given the A-Minor they found in the ATLAS fortress. The note says they're hoping this will actually stay our best suit for a while. It needs repairs, but they expect to have it ready for the next quarter."
Somehow, Meriame's heart sunk even lower than it already had, down into the floor. "What about Blueberry?" she asked.
"I'm sure her new pilot will do her justice," Hanoune said. "Or you can ask to keep her, as a reserve unit."
Meriame shuddered at the thought of trying to claim two suits at once. No matter how much she loved her Type-2, that was a step too far. "I'd like some time off, if it's damaged."
Hanoune gave her a look that said a great many things. "What for?"
"I just want to take the return trip slowly," Meriame said without any real plan. "Clear my head. I'll take Blueberry back with me, so I'll be fine."
The two shared a long, slow look. A silent and secret battle of wills playing out between them. Please, Meriame thought. Give me this, at the very least give me this.
"I'll fill out the paperwork," Hanoune said. "You get back to Algeria on time, safe and sound, or I'll hunt you down myself."
"Deal," Meriame said.
Once her door closed, Meriame ult Lamine immediately fell backwards onto her bed. She was hardly ready for sleep, the position was uncomfortable, and he wasn't even properly covered in blankets. None of that mattered, and exhaustion claimed her only moments later.
Exhack
We Won't Build The Plane!
- Location
- Montreal, Canada
MIRROR BOX
The ragged sprawl of Luna-8's hydroponics bay stretches out beyond as Azel jams the inactive frozen hydraulic door open with a crowbar, ajar first to test for a breach to vacuum and then entirely open once the the characteristic pull fails to materialize and the compartment is proven to still be sealed. An inch of topsoil has raised the floor of the bay and every surface shows the corrosion of centuries of sprouting vines, booms and busts. Once a jungle, now more akin to a tundra, mossy, poor in life and sodden as station power was wound down to an ember. Unlike the Earth, there are no animals here, not even worms, bees or flies. Decomposition is regulated by a designer microbiome, a patchwork of fungi and prokaryotes that ensure dead plants do no simply sit on their nutrients like ancient kings in stone tombs.The plants, like the Seraphim indulging in their worst instincts, are completely self-pollinating and require no external effort. An unbroken, thousand-year lineage of mothers and daughters, strangling technological detritus before turning to poor mulch under her feet. Azel shuts the door behind herself and tags the door to indicate the compartment is safe. While she can't prevent someone from coming in, she can extend her solitude a few hours as the vultures from Therymscry busily index every bone in this old charnel house.
She's faintly anxious, the enclosed bulb of her helmet somehow tightening around her face. Her breath reflects off the glass, back into her mouth, hot and dry.
There are corpses in the dirt, dressed in civilian clothes. The hydroponics crew weren't soldiers. Most of them were refugees who survived a dozen decimations being ferried from safe harbour to safe harbour as they collapsed, with this one being their last.
The ground drops off abruptly into a drowned valley, where the catwalk would have given way to an interior shaft connecting to life support. Likely sealed when the station went into hibernation. The handrails marking the drop have been memorialized by a desiccated weave of vines that likely accelerated their decay- trapping water against the surface and perishing when their ersatz trellice expired.
Azel leans over the edge and shines a light down. The water is clear and faintly blue and from it her reflection gazes back, ambivalent, imperious. The bottom of the shaft is concealed by sediment, the hatch likely also broken down.
The offices and labs have fared a slight better as she reaches them, only faintly intruded into by inquisitive growths of plant life, a fine patina of algae on the walls and slimes growing in the creases between floor and wall tiles. The machinery has alit to standby mode by the recent reactivation of the station, clean room diagnostics are calmly warning the laboratories are contaminated by an excess of organics and volatiles. The staff room has the first scare, a half-dozen human corpses arrayed around a makeshift cookery station. Bottles, cans, pots and pans all sit about, their contents indistinct and indecipherable by the passage of time. Absent uniforms, mostly shed in the process of this bachannalia at the epilogue of human civilization's first try, their lanyards remain legible.
She knows every name.
Among the bodies is man alone with a bottle of wine and a glass, cradling a scalenohedron of glassy acrylic, poured around a single red rose, vividly red but not quite to full bloom. The man's skull shows a fracture, long-since healed by the time of his passing. Azel cradles the old wound with her gloved hand, letting another heavy exhale pass her lips. She takes the rose from his hands, finding an inscription on the bronze plate adorning its base.
On it, she reads the words:
TO FUMINORI, I LEAVE ONE PERFECT ROSE
I REGRET THERE WILL NOT BE ANOTHER
I REGRET THERE WILL NOT BE ANOTHER
Silently, she curses him. She laughs. She cries. Her thoughts then wander, to the question that has troubled her all these months since her cruel awakening. After everything was done, what did the Seraphim really save?
- Location
- New England, State of Confusion
- Pronouns
- She/Her
A Garden of Eden
Major Lavinia Harcourt of the Convent of Protection shed those titles as she hung up her uniform and replaced it with a simple charcoal black jumpsuit. While lacing up simple forest green shoes that matched her freshly dyed hair she appreciated that the random impulse to change had come over her today—a relaxing break in routine.
The last year had been hectic as the order decided to leave their longstanding vigil for a new one over Earth, but the good they had done proved it was the right choice. Apocalypse machines felled, humanity protected and enriched, and perhaps selfishly the rediscovery of so many little details mentioned in their history. Carried feelings were dominated by those privileged enough to get Earthside assignments and the chance to go to zoos or even just see a cat. It did not help that what a cat looked like was a debate recently as despite their best efforts the younger Seraphs could not reliably differentiate a cat and a raccoon.
Letting a rueful sigh and a shake of the head escape, Lavinia mastered herself before opening the door of her quarters and out into one of the countless hallways that honeycombed Eden 511. Leveraging herself in long-practiced motions with the handholds that lined the walls, she started to comfortably drift toward the next junction as the door slid closed behind her. Clean whites well lit by artificial life flowed by as she pivoted and shifted her momentum in the microgravity towards one of the internal gardens.
Passing by other Seraphs, she would pass flashes of emotion back and forth briefly before returning to her own thoughts. The Order was managing culture shock well enough, but it was still disorienting sometimes. Animals, meat, politics, other doctrines, war, and so much that had been lost for good or ill were back in their lives. Lives that had gone nearly unchanging for nearly three centuries. Sol lit their path as best she could but so much required individual Seraphs to reflect that light as best they could.
And her role in managing all the information coming in from hundreds of different sources and locales put her at the forefront of that. Clarifying, expanding, correcting, or simply informing Seraphs was her life. Her Vows had never left her busier. The responsibility alone was an incredible amount to take in. Calming herself with a deep breath while savoring the feeling passed to her of the warmth of fresh linens, Lavinia reminded herself that that was okay. She was trained and ready for this, and was taking the needed measures to keep herself healthy.
Part of that was her destination. The gardens were one of her favorites, especially the internal ones. The outer ones were undoubtedly far more popular due to seeing Sol's light, but the offered seclusion was peaceful. And being in the center of an internal garden, perfectly lit even if artificially must feel like being held entirely within Sol. No darkness, just light and life. When her time came she hoped that others would carry that feeling on. It was one of her favorites.
After another handful of minutes spent gliding peacefully, she arrived at her destination. Pressing her hand to the ident reader, a soft chime of recognition answered her. The door softly opened and then closed behind her. The garden was a tight space filled in all directions with pillars of glass enclosing flowers and greenery. Small white panels declared their names or concealed more practical maintenance access points. Painted murals and frescos of Sol and her Host occupied the empty wall space. Gracefully curving benches, stools, and chairs poked forth throughout, with all empty but one towards the center beneath one of the pillars.
Sitting there as expected was Martina Grey, Chief Diplomat of the Order. She was clipped into the base of the chair with one of Lavinia's old belts, its worn brown fabric holding a collection of latches and attachment points alongside a series of pouches. Contrasting its drab utilitarian look was the flowing white dress she wore. It billowed out around her with its long ruffled sleeves and seemed to move towards the lights of the room like a plant seeking Sol. Poking out from the petal-like fabric were brown boots that matched her belt which were currently mag locked to the floor.
Kicking off from the wall next to her, Lavinia began to fall upwards toward the unoccupied seat next to her. Coming into view from behind the reflected flowers was Martina's face as she busied herself with a small tablet. She kept her long white hair in a neat braid that currently was tucked under one of her arms. As Lavinia arrived at her destination, she arrested her momentum softly enough that her friend did not even notice.
"Marti, im here so you can put down work." said Lavinia as Martina startled before passing a guilty feeling back to Lavinia. Answered with bemused reassurance as Lavinia clipped herself in to her left, Martina answered.
"Lavinia, thank you. Last meeting was a great deal to take in and I thought some review was in order." Turning away to stow the tablet into one of the belt's pouches before returning to look at Lavinia. Her amber eyes were framed with what appeared to Lavinia to be perfect eyelashes.
"Always happy to make the time. And if you think you need review I can help but on one condition." The gentle nudge directed at the diplomat was paired with the well-used memory of all the other times she had done it before.
Replying with an unspoken or even acted thought to get on with it, Lavinia let a smile break out on her face. Mirrored immediately by Martina's own, both psychics let the moment stretch out and bounce between them a moment before refocusing behind wider smiles.
"After this, and a while after. My advice is good-" Earnest agreement tinged with something else. "But what is better is time for you to unwind. You have been busier than even I and only Sol knows how that is possible."
Rolling her eyes but still moving her hand from resting on the tablet's pouch to letting it rest loosely in the air at her left side. "Fine, fine. I accept your condition."
To cement her victory, Lavinia turned her head briefly to pick out one of the flowers in the garden. Kept perfectly in bloom, an Impala Lily was catching the light in a way that simply softened the edges of everything else. Passing the thought to Martina, her answer was to pick out how the lights from her perspective fell ever so slightly differently.
And so it went, with them trading back thoughts and feelings and perceptions of the room from their two different perspectives. Lights and flowers blender into the next or were replaced by the condensation on the nearby glass. Lavinia let herself flow along with the thoughts, gliding from moment to moment and letting the worries of her vows fall away. Embraced by Sol in the heart of her material power there was not a worry to consider.
"Lavinia?" Her name spoken aloud snapped her back from luxuriating in the thoughts.
"What, Marti?" Refocusing her eyes back to her friend, she was startled to see an unreadable look. No thoughts reached out to her.
"Is something bothering you? You tensed up but didn't say or send anything." Still unreadable but less so, whatever Martina was thinking was clearly a worry.
Passing a reassurance before speaking, Lavinia answered "I do not think so. I was just letting things flow in the light. I don't think I tensed up, can you show me?"
The thought that was offered came not quickly, that of a slight twinge at Lavinia's face from Martina's perspective and a tension in her hands. Lavinia hadn't realized she did that, strange.
Passing back her thought paired with her thoughts at the moment Martina saw something Lavinia watched as Martina furrowed her brow.
The next feeling was a certain yet inquisitive one of trust. Answering it immediately with certainty and affirmation, Lavinia was starting to become confused. She had clearly reacted to Something, but what? She was just with Marti, what could have caused it. Letting her eyes scan the room over the glass and light, there was nothing.
"Lavinia, what are you looking for?"
"Whatever must have spooked me. I wasn't really thinking, so I probably saw something out of place. I'll see it in a moment." Distracted and feeling the tension start to truly exist, Lavinia struggled to see anything out of place in the Garden. Everything was working, and none of the flowers dying.
"Lavinia."
"Marti?"
"You were looking at me." Huh? Confusion flowed from Lavinia to Martina, which returned redoubled but with something added. Exasperation?
Passing her confusion back to Martina for her to perceive, she set her mind to the task at hand. She had been looking at Martina and tensed up. Turning in her seat to look at her friend more clearly, there was nothing that could have caused that. Her hair was perfectly managed against her olive skin. The necklace of the solar system in a line around Martina's neck was gorgeous. Her eyebrows maybe? No, they were just as perfect as her hair. What was it then?
It was as she realized something that she saw Martina's jaw drop ever so softly. Ah.
Immediately flushing red and twisting sharply in her seat, Lavinia struggled to decide what to do next.
Breaking the silence was an incredulous voice from Martina "How did you not know? Lavinia you are an intelligence officer, are you really telling me you..." a stifled chuckle cut her sentence short before she trailed off.
All Lavinia could do in response was broadcast embarrassment. Sol graced her, they were alone.
The answer of affection caught her off guard, however. Turning back she was surprised to see a faint blush on Martina's face as well. "Lavinia, I only knew because I know what to look for even when its only spoken words, or not even that."
Marshaling herself to speak instead of sending all of her feelings at once in a giant mess, Lavinia spoke. "How long?" A simple question.
"A few months after I joined the Cloister." A somewhat terrifying answer. But it made sense. Turning to her thoughts it was as if a new color had entered her vision. Little moments with Marti where things were just a little nicer, a little easier. Each time she had thought it was simply familiar affection. But in hindsight it was as clear as daylight.
"Martina, I have a confession to make." Regardless of how she had realized, this was her feeling and she would not make Martina do all the work for her. "I think I like you." Saying that brought the feeling of fear and absence of control to the fore. Tentatively she offered it to Martina.
What returned was neither. It was warmth and it was an offered hand. "Lavinia, I do like you." Suddenly they were sharing thoughts so freely again, one after another. Warmth and reassurance, hope and excitement.
Amid the back and forth was the image of Lavinia from Martina's view. Lavinia's own blue eyes, honey skin, and short-cropped forest green hair. A polished bronze disk held on with a silver chain that rested at her throat. Woven in so deftly was the touch of Martina. How she felt her green hair reminded her of a soft field of grass. That to Marti, she always looked so striking and confident. How Martina cherished the advice and support she had given her over the last months. That she cherished her.
Smiling ear to ear, Lavinia looked into the deep amber eyes of Martina and she leaned forward. Mirrored eagerly by Marti, Lavinia closed her eyes and felt their lips meet.
- Location
- Minnesota
- Pronouns
- She/Her
The United Federation of Islands is pleased to join SADEDAS, and looks forward to mutual collaboration with all nations for the betterment of all peoples.
[x] Signed by Sofia Reyes, President of the Federation; ratified by the people of the United Federation of Islands
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- Location
- Singapore
[X] Household Minister for Foreign Affairs, Her Royal Highness Sumai Ransome-Jallah, Yammacin Freeholds
[X] Household Minister for Foreign Affairs, Her Royal Highness Sumai Ransome-Jallah, Yammacin Freeholds
[X] Household Minister for Foreign Affairs, Her Royal Highness Sumai Ransome-Jallah, Yammacin Freeholds
[X] Household Minister for Foreign Affairs, Her Royal Highness Sumai Ransome-Jallah, Yammacin Freeholds
- Pronouns
- She/They
In the interest of furthering peaceful scientific exchange between Earth and Space, and to have a voice in the direction of mankind's technological future.
[X] Second Prince Javier, in his capacity as Prime Minister of State for the Divine Monarchy of CanMexico
- Location
- France
- Pronouns
- She/Her
[X] Foreign Ministry of Hispania
[X] Foreign Ministry of HispaniaEden 511 Department of Foreign Affairs
"Ductu Et Praesidio Posterorum"
The Axis Seraphim of Eden 511 would like to announce to Earth, the cradle of humanity, a gift. We have watched for a year as countless struggles ignited and reignited, as the Spcians above have jostled and jockeyed for power. And we have worked. Both on the surface to see the scars of Calamity kept in the past, and above to see the dreams of the future able to be realized.
We are finishing in the Earths orbit a station. Furnished to our finest standards, maintained by our own hands, it is a path to building that future we wish to see come to pass. It is the Scientificum Academiae Domum Education and Discovery Asteroid Station (SADEDAS)SADEDAS is not associated with or represented by the SADE orginization.
Laboratory spaces, archives, lecture halls, gardens and more fill its space for the best and brightest of Earth. Every citizen of Earth may walk its halls if they wish, none shall be denied their birthright to walk and learn amongst the stars.
So with great pride we invite all that would learn and discover of Earth to its halls. We invite you to collaborate with us in building the future beyond. To those Spacians who wish to attend, tours or visits may be scheduled via contacting the SADEDAS administration office.
-Martina Grey, Seraphim of Eden 511 Chief Diplomat
Mission Statement of SADEDAS: To provide a scientific forum to the collective peoples of Earth without malice or extractive motive.
Conditions and Terms of SADEDAS: All technologies developed as part of the joint effort will be provided freely to those actively involved in their development, including the Axis Seraphim. However, only the Earthian powers have the right to proliferation under any circumstances. Any Earthian state that obtains the technology is free to transfer it between whomever it wishes, be they Earthian or Spacian. The purpose of this stipulation is to give the nations of Earth greater choice in the matters at hand. Only nonmilitary technologies will be supported by SADEDAS. Technologies and avenues of research to be prioritized [Read: treated as having a lab allocated] will be done by majority vote of 3 unranked choices, with the Axis Seraphim breaking ties.
Those Earthian states that wish to join simply need to send a diplomat or message to Eden 511 affirming their interest. No Earthian state shall be rejected. To maintain active membership once having joined, all one must do is contribute funds or researchers to the efforts as best they are able.
[X] Martina Grey, Eden 511 Chief Diplomat
" Through the participation of multiple nations in good standing , we stand reassured on these proposed institutions and will join them in a spirit of appeasement and common prosperity.
We hope that the Eden 511 polity will turn from the path of the main Seraph organisation , and further prove that conflict and domination are not inevitable in exchanges between Earth and Space in their future actions "