Erchion

Shifty Salesmen RP

ON THE MOON OF EBO-4

The jasur waited for the Executive Unit, drumming the fingers of his lower right hand on the arm of his cushioned chair. He would look at the empty table and the evidently larger armchair opposite him. His secretary whispered something in his ear.

"The sheeple claim their executive will be here in just a few moments, Governor."

The Governor's mood worsened, turning into an annoyed frown.

"They've been saying that for nearly an hour..."

He looked around at the room, the oval shape, the very nice carpet the two chairs and table on, the giant window taking up half the room, eventually settling on the somewhat uncomfortable sheep-man or... 'Mr. Gurrd' as he had overheard a few of this one's peers. He had actually heard numerous of them being referred to Mr. or Ms. Gurrd, and folks like this executive apparently referred to them as 'Worker units.' It was so... Corporate, so impersonal and detached that the Governor found it unnerving. Never the less, he'd call out to the man.

"Where is your executive Mr. Gurrd?!"

He couldn't stop the frustration in his mind from flowing into his words. The sheep rubbed their fur coated hands together.

"He'll be 'ere in a few moments sir..."

They were well aware that the response only made the governor angrier.

"It's Governor you simpleton! You've been doing nothing except Standing there!"

The Governor went on an angry tyrade, ranting about this executive and how there was no way someone could take this long. At one point, the gurrd just stopped listening entirely and started looking at a primitive cell phone.

"AND THAT IS WHY-"

"Oh sir, He's about 200 meters from 'ere."

The Jasur stopped his rant, taking a deep breath and sitting back down and grumbling. After a few moments a pair of sheeple carrying sheafs of paper and a goat-like man entered. The goat was clothed in truly regal and luxurious robes of a reddish-purple color, and metal jewelry that glimmered with the meeting space's lighting. They wore a warm smile.

"Governor Yallen?"

The Governor nodded, partly shocked by the display wealth

"That's who I am, yes."

"Good, good... I am hopeful the situation here has not devolved into catastrophe."

"For now the rationing has worked, however our home in running out of food fast. We need a solution, or at least a stop gap. I've heard your great republic is here to help, yes?"

"Oh yes, as a board member of Gerda Biolabs, it is our mission to dispel famine wherever it shows itself, dear Governor."

"Quite the noble cause. So what are you going to do to solve the worst crisis we've seen in 5 decades, Executive?"

"Simple, Gerda Biolabs grows meat, we're more than happy to supply you with all that this moon will ever need, and more!"

"Grow... Hm... So is that why organized to have dinner? So you could show me how great the foodstuffs you produce is?"

"Exactly Governor Yallen. Ms. Gurrd?"

The Governor watched as the Executive beckoned a noticeably smaller sheep-man in a formal black dress to them.

"Give the most honorable Governor a menu, will you?"

The sheep nodded daintily trotted toward the Governor and hand him a menu, before walking back to the center of the table and looking at the Executive.

"Goat-steak, please. And Yar'mik too." The Executive continued to smile as their servant nodded, turning to the Governor. He had heard of some of the various meats on the menu. He had a basic idea of what cattle, chicken, and pork was like, but their were various other species he had never heard of. Snail, elephant, dog, orangutan, all of them were completely alien to him. The two would talk after the Governor made his choice of main course.

"How about... The fried chicken sandwich. And, is the tea make produce any good?

"Good taste, chicken is one of my personal favorites. and do believe me when I say the tea is the best we've got to offer."

The Governor wasn't completely convinced. "Hm... I can't help but call back to your strange word choice, you said that you 'grew' your meats?"

"Yes, we grow them in cloning vats." The Executive responded with missing a beat. "Both efficient and secure!"

"Right..."

They talked some more about the situation, how the Executive planned to distribute his artificial foods about Ebo-4.

"It will be very simple, you merely replace given rations with one of our design."

And they talked about possible road blocks

"I am worried my current benefactors could shut our deal down."

"I wouldn't."

Eventually the food was wheeled in on a small cart and served to the two as they talked. The Executive's plate was a fairly large hunk of grilled flesh with various greenery that was presumably "grown" as well. The Governor had a simple sandwich with an especially crispy lump of light brown meat with a form of cheese and strange sauce.

"Go on and try it!" The Executive encouraged, smile even brighter than it had been for the past hour or so.

The Governor chuckled, picking up his food and taking a tentative bite out of the sandwich. It was actually quite good, although the cheese was not really his thing. The Governor found himself taking huge bites out of the thing for it's taste.

"I'm rather impressed, Executive. And this is supposedly the average quality?" The Governor mused when he had finished his plate.

The Executive looked from his mostly bare plate, nodding as they swallowed their last bite.

"Mm, oh yes. Quality is of our utmost concern."

The Governor nodded.

"So what do you want for salvation?" The Governor asked, the Executive stopped.

"Governor, we would like 10% of the wealth produced on Ebo-4."

The Governor slammed his lower left fist on the table.

"WHAT!? 10%!?" The Governor shouted, suddenly maddened by such a preposterous demand, the Executive's face shifted to a more serious look as they stared him down.

"Yes, I don't think you're in much of a position to refuse." The Executive leaned in, still staring at the Governor who was gritting his teeth.

"And what of the Mechlons!? What'll you do when I call them up to chase you off, huh!?" The Governor proclaimed, shaking his two right fists at the Executive.

"When was the last time you saw a mechlon, Governor?" The Executive asked simply, retaining their straight face.
"Because let me tell you, between the Reich and Confederacy, your masters are simply... Too busy to prevent this catastrophe."/i]

"They send me reports on the daily-"

[i]"And when have they last touched down on Ebo-4, Governor?" The Governor paused, still furious. He took a deep breath in.

"Over a year." He quietly admitted

"Well then..." The Executive started to speak, a bit of the past energy in his voice returning with a small smile. "You don't have to mention a thing about our agreement. I'm not here to vassalize after all. The Governor grumbled. "And frankly, the Mechlons likely wouldn't care if a couple of their distant vassal's moon colonies fed their people through... Outside means."

"You've done this with other Jasur colonies!?"

"Among other things yes." The Executive rose from their seat, adjusting one of the silver pieces of jewelry adorning their horns before continuing."The choice is yours, Governor Yallen. Do you prioritize your people or money?" They said as their smile fully crept back up.

"I'll return in two days to hear your response. It's really been a pleasure."

With that, The Executive, sheeple, and anything they had brought in left the room, the Governor sat there in shock.

"That.... That..."

He swore as loud he could manage.

Disobedience Shall Be Death

Alpha Dyador struggled to stay awake as the Department of Action speaker spouted the news of the brewing war primarily fought between the Mechlons, Roman Reich, and Keid. It was certainly concerning, perhaps the most concerning event in the Alpha's lifetime. But it had been two days since they last rested for any meaningful amount of time. The ‘products’ only helped them so much these days. Considering requesting some of the stuff some corporations pumped into their workers wasn't such a ridiculous idea to them anymore. The speaker finally wrapped up their introduction and gave the Department of Action's proposal to the rest of the Inner Party.

"Party members, We at the Department of Action, in partnership with Cergaine Gyurr's Automa-Righten Corporation, present to you... The Hatebringer Light Cruiser!"

A projector screen swung down and was lit up with a rendered concept of the ship. The speaker went on to explain the various ideas the DA hoped to stuff the hypothetical cruiser with. It was supposed to have the currently unfinished "Chameleon" stealth system, Some 6 fighter dispatching drones, and numerous torpedoes meant to drill incredibly deep into a ship and then explode. The idea was that 4 of these cruisers would ride within a fleet's flagship, eventually sailing off on their own along fighter craft. They would then deploy their Chameleons, slowly sneak behind a foe during a battle, and deploy torpedoes to the rears and sides of a given ship.

Someone from the Department of Management stood up from their seat, their deep navy blue robes ruffling slightly as they did so.

"The Department of Management approves of the cruiser, however, it is felt that the name 'Hatebringer' is too strong and could possibly dissuade allies and neutral entities. We propose the vessel be renamed to the 'Storm Caller.'"

The entirety of the DA erupted in protest. Eventually their speaker rose once more and their bleating fell silent, save for a few mutterings.

"Preposterous! There are a million foreign ships and weapon systems with similar names! The storm cannon, storm maker, storm whatever! The word 'storm' hardly means anything anymore! The DA rejects this proposal!"

A speaker for the Department of Correction stood up. "We agree that 'Storm Caller' would not be a suitable name for the vessel, however we propose it be named something more heroic, like 'paladin' or something."

"Bah!"

After some back and forth, the idea was shot down. "Any other names?" The Alpha called out, already in an exasperated state.

"I believe we have one final name to give..." The DA speaker would call. "The Department of Action presents... 'The Contemptor...'"

While the DM and DL would vote against the idea, the other departments shakily approved.

"Very well then, the new vessel shall be... 'The Contemptor class light cruiser.'"

Alpha Dyador couldn't take this anymore, at any moment they felt like they could close their eyes and slump onto they sat overlooking the assembly when the device in his pant pocket buzzed. They would look around before pulling up their bright red robe and digging for the small thing. One of their lieutenants cocked their head to the Alpha in concern.

"Are you alright Great Alpha?" The lieutenant's lips slightly quivered as they looked at the distraught Alpha.

The Alpha looked up from their cell phone, unclenching their teeth and keeping himself from panting. "I need to leave now. Continue the meeting without me, and don't tell the others."

In a nervous manner, the lieutenant nodded and turned back as the discussion of the Contemptor continued. The Alpha, joined by his personally enhanced and thoughtless bodyguards, looked back at the assembly as he discreetly hovered his wrist over the security reader. He watched as one of the CEOs from the Department of Wealth and Commerce stepped up with a jingle from their silver draped horns.

"Well gentlefolk, why just leave the vessel as a warship alone when there are so many fields that need new starships? I propose we use the chassis of the vessel for other things? We could use these 'Contemptors' as freighters, prison ships and-"
...

The Alpha's personal entrance to the assembly hall slid shut. The Alpha and the security detail moved along to their office. Up an elevator, up six stories and straight ahead past the excessive amount of automated turrets as his security detail took up posts at the sides of a door. At last he was in his office, alone. With much reluctance the Alpha would walk to his desk, sit down at his chair, open the bottom right drawer, and pull out a slick black laptop computer. With a nerve calming breath, the Alpha would open it, and the Omega would greet him for the first time in two months.

Hello Alpha, it is good to see you again.
"G-good evening Omega."
I have been watching all the assemblies and news reports recently, and I am very impressed with the nation and it's progress.

The Alpha didn't respond, and found it hard to stare at both the small camera of the computer and the white screen.

I've noticed you've become much too sluggish for the nation's good, Alpha. Perhaps I shall dismiss you to your living area when we're done tonight.
The Alpha nodded "I'd like that."
I'm sure you would. Now about this ongoing conflict.
"What about it? We've already started taking precautions and are mounting a defense against both sides."
We cannot just stop there, Legunnus must make an otherwise dubious move while the wider stage is distracted.
"What?"

The computer screen shifted without a beat, and flashed to a picture of a solar system. It held some six planets, with only one looking like it could house life within it. The Alpha stared at the screen with a darkening mood. "What do you want from this place?"

This is system E1106, a region of space only one system away from the greater realm of Legunnus. Housing many very useful metals, fuels, and other raw materials that could alleviate our reliance on the more fickle imports from other nations.

"And who are we stealing it from? Hm? Lespiak? Great Acaris? Or even one of the three powers!?"[i/]

There is a small Foxxogradian presence on the habitable planet, E1106-2.

[i]"Of course there is! Because we can't do a damned thing without hurting everyone else!? Is it some sort of need for you to demand harm!? First the annihilation of every space station near the area, to whatever cocktail we put in the 'aide' we send to the squalid regions of the cluster, I mean... Why Omega!? Why do we do these terrible things!?"

Because it is the most efficient way to grow Legunnus. I do away with morals that hinder progress.

The Alpha froze, infuriated by the Omega's gall.

You and your entire species was created by me, and I could easily manipulate the next generation to be as mindless as the servitors exported. Your autonomy and control is a privilege, so long as my goals are achieved. Your doubts are-

Like a maddened animal, the Alpha smashed the screen of the laptop with one quick blow with his fist. The computer angrily hissed and eventually started making popping noises, but Dyador wasn't done quite yet. They'd pick up the computer, throw it on the floor, and stomp it out until it was nothing but a pile of splintered plastic and shattered glass. Then storming out of the office and once more being joined by his guards as the turrets stared him down. They'd look over their shoulder at one such turret, squint, and keep walking.

He eventually walked himself all the way to the exclusive subway system all IPL members used and boarded his personal coach for a silent ride home.

...

The Alpha would leave the subway and enter his mansion, far removed from the Greater Omega Center. He'd eventually trudge into his lavish living space, a hot drink already in a simple and large mug to sup. The Alpha hung up his fine robe, dress shirt, belt, shoes and metal jewelry before sitting down in his undergarments, mug in hand.

The warm drink comforted the Alpha, as a visitor quietly entered, hanging their own robe before getting the Alpha's attention.

"You're certainly worse for wear."

The bleary Alpha looked up to see one his more favored assistants and honorary party member, Dyssa Gyurr take a seat opposite of them.

"What was the rest of the assembly like?"

"You didn't really miss anything, Farkal Gyurr presented their idea for using the Contemptor as a multipurpose vessel and nearly came to blows with Cergaine Gyurr over it."

"Feels like every time either opens their mouth, the other starts foaming."

Dyssa giggled. "Other than that, the Department of Life proposed a new kind of combat drug to further enhance ground forces."

"Mm..." The Alpha simply nodded.

"Why did you leave?" Dyssa questioned.

The Alpha sighed, taking a sip from his mug. "Talk with the Omega."

"Really? cause you like you've just hit rock bottom. I've never seen you so drained after a talk with him."

The Alpha shifted uncomfortably. "He... was laying out the plans to take a nearby system from Foxxograd... Starting a war against them."

Dyssa's demeanor became more serious. "And..?"

"I smashed the laptop he spoke through."

Dyssa gasped. "No! You did not!"

"I did,! I can't abet the horrible things we do and have done anymore! I've decided to finally take charge and put an end to it-"

A low howling noise and a muted thud was heard in the adjacent room, both gyurrs turned as a large mound of writhing, enraged flesh burst from a door some 30 feet from the two. The screaming and bellowing monstrosity had nearly half a dozen heads of varying description, one with giant horns and a face like a horse, another that was really one jagged toothed maw with eyes at the top, One that looked like that of some sort of primate that was making most of the howling noises, and another, smaller shrieking face fused to it, and one with that of an avian creature, only without and feathers. The thing had translucent skin that showed it's huge bounty of muscle, and some 3 giant hand-like appendages that held it aloft as it screamed and whinnied. The two barely had enough time to rise from their seats before it lunged forward. The creature would send Dyssa flinging them into the wall with a loud thud.

Alpha Dyador, now little more than a frightened child, reached the opposite door from the monster and pulled it open as fast as they could, but the creature had grabbed them by the leg and effortlessly snapped it like a twig. The Alpha would howl as the terrible thing yanked them toward it and cut the screams short with two great fists.

Two Meetings, Part 1 of 2

Heskar and Lewis Shipping Warehouse, Novus Tolankotz, Schadesekt Province

Novus Tolankotz. A place that is simultaneously the economic heart of Schadesekt Province and the poorest city on Acaris. Located within the inner city, the Heskar and Lewis Shipping Warehouse has long served as the clandestine headquarters of the militant Red Dawn Faction, to the general frustration of the already overworked and underfunded NTPD. Responsible for bombings, assassinations, robberies, and kidnappings across the province, the RDF began as the most radical wing of the FENO, before a split between Hans von Knecht and Anna Maltsurovna over the matter of the FENO's participation in the Acarisian Parliament. Following the surprising birth and subsequent landslide victory of the UNP, the RDF's membership dropped sharply, going from around 8,000 to just over 4,000. Most of those who left did so to join the UNP, reasoning that it would be far easier to influence the new government from within it, especially since Diarch von Knecht had explicitly stated that members of the RDF who defected to the UNP would be pardoned for any and all terroristic activities they may have taken part in.

This is the situation facing the Red Dawn Faction on the morning of Noraakh (October) 8th. All of this is also known to Hans von Knecht as he braces himself one last time, and then pounds on the front gate of the warehouse-turned-fortress. It also came as little surprise to the Diarch when he was roughly dragged inside by a pair of burly men twice his size. They dragged him through the dingy halls of the makeshift headquarters, ending in a small office. A small, cheap looking table, two folding metal chairs, a dim lamp, and a stack of papers are all that adorn that room that Comrade Maltsurovna uses to coordinate the most effective terrorist organization in Acarisian history. The woman herself sits behind the table, dressed in an old military dress uniform with the insignia torn off and replaced with a hammer and sickle over a skull. Her left eye is concealed by a patch, with that side of her face bearing a massive burn scar reaching her upper neck. She doesn't even look up to speak, continuing to examine papers, occasionally writing something with her singular black pen.

[Comrade Anna Maltsurovna:]"You have exactly ten minutes to explain to me why I should not have you shot as a traitor to the people, Diarch."

She spat the last word out with a venom that could melt steel.
Von Knecht, without bothering to sit, adjusted his monocle and began to speak, his voice projecting an image of cool confidence, in spite of the high likelihood of death facing the man.

[Diarch Hans von Knecht:]"Because I am your one and only hope of ever actually effecting real change. The Diarchy, and Resnik with it, are only temporary features of the revolutionary government I am assembling. Do you truly believe that I would make a genuine alliance with a man who had attempted to have me imprisoned as an enemy of the state on numerous occasions? No, I subjected Resnik and his Nationalists to a ruse, and now, it falls to you and yours to do your part in finally bringing about the liberation of the working class."

In one swift motion, Von Knecht pulls a folder from the interior of his coat, tossing it onto Maltsurovna's desk. The cover is blank, but upon opening it, the contents are revealed to be a series of political, military, and legal documents pertaining to the pardoning of the entirety of the membership of the RDF, contingent on the RDF agreeing to be merged into the UNP. Hidden behind those, was a secret provision, which would elevate Anna Maltsurovna to the position of Diarch in the event of Anton Resnik's death or resignation, for the express purposes of ending the Diarchy and empowering the State Executive.

Comrade Maltsurovna looked over the documents, before standing up, walking around the table, and pulling Von Knecht into a tight, if brief, embrace. It was another hour or so before Hans von Knecht left the dilapidated warehouse, his health fully intact, and his breath reeking of the bootleg liquor that the RDF had become famous for among the alcoholics of Acaris.

Getting Acquainted. RP

The new Alpha descended down the elevator alone. Their expression unchanging as the display above the elevator’s only button measured the increasing distance from the surface of God-Kadarn and down where he was traveling. They would’ve found it unnerving that their favorite pop song was playing had they not tuned it out to watch the number grow larger and larger.

“400 meters, 425 meters, 450 meters, 475 meters, 500 meters.”

The elevator cleanly stopped and its doors opened with a hiss. They breathed in the undisturbed, stale air of the cold bunker and went ahead into the hallway. They came across a large vault door similar to the one that guarded the entrance to the Alpha’s office, chip scanner and all. After a moment to look over their shoulder solely out of habit, the Alpha pressed his wrist against the scanner. The door began to open with loud clunks and soon, Farkal’s eyes were dazed by the sudden change of scenery. The cold lights gave way to dim, warm ones as though they were in an old theater. It had false windows, old posters, silly and rustic decorations pinned to walls and a proud ancient jukebox in the circular room. The floor was of handsome wooden floorboards with an impressive sheen, and the room was warm like a cozy pub Farkal frequented when he was but a student whose biggest aspiration was only membership into the Outer Party of Legunnus. There was a small but grand looking table of a fine dark wood with a red tablecloth over it, and a comfortable armchair with the kind of velvet cushioning one could fall asleep in, and on the table was a plate, napkin, silverware and the meal he would typically order when he would negotiate under Gerda Biolabs; Goat steak with a bit of caviar. His host was even courteous enough to provide a bottle of red wine, 20 years of age, and an empty glass for it.

Farkal tentatively sat down at the table, when a sterile yet powerful voice spoke through a speaker.

Good Evening, Alpha. I am Omega. I thought to acquaint you with recent happenings, and how you will deal with them.

Farkal was stunned, shaking his head and slowly processing the abrupt and blunt message. At the same time, an artificial humanoid that looked like another gyurr, only without fur and white, slightly pulsating skin. They brought in the same exact meal with identical silverware and a plate.

Shall we discuss? The creature asked.

Farkal Gyurr nodded, weakly.
And so, the Omega began to fill them in on the greater details about how he planned to make Legunnus stronger. The appearance of the drone he spoke through was not only unsettling, but it ate and drank at the exact same rate as Farkal and it had similar mannerisms.they knew the drone was intentionally uncanny but still couldn’t shake the dread they felt. The Omega wasn’t some unfeeling AI like they and some of their colleagues thought. Although it was cold and cruel, there was a certain callous and somewhat narcissistic personality that it held within. He took notice of Farkal’s lack of focus.

Is my chosen appearance too distracting for you? The drone’s eyes flicked from its meal and into Farkal’s eyes. They took a deep breath and mustered up the gall to speak up.

”You talk to me like… Like a bored God.”

The Omega had the drone lean back into its chair, and smile in a smug manner.

Many would perceive me as such. The Omega would say as the drone finished off the wine.

The two would remain awkwardly silent, or perhaps the Omega was just letting Farkal’s lack of a response seep in. It didn’t matter, as the Omega finally broke the silence.

I have one last thing to say. It regards your appearance. The drone’s back straightened as he began to speak.

I had taken note of your rather feeble physique, especially compared to the rest of your species.

Farkal nodded, rolling the sleeve of his robe back to reveal the unnaturally thin wrist and arm underneath it.

”Then why was I not culled if I wasn’t ideal?”

The drone shrugged. It is acceptable for a few bricks to be chipped or imperfect, so long as they do not threaten the integrity of the building. It would cost too much to have every single brick be perfect.

Farkal nodded.

But for the Alpha? Such a frail appearance is unacceptable for the leader of my great nation. They felt beads of sweat roll down their head as the drone leaned in.

Fear not Alpha, I am not going to see two leaders dead in the same month. I shall augment you, make you mightier instead. Repair you for the betterment of Legunnus.

This made Farkal think. Not just politically mighty, but physically? They dreamed of the possibilities, the complete, unquestionable domination, and the pride of it.

The Alpha made his choice, and looked back at the Omega with their eyes glimmering with a certain greed.

”Tell me more.”

…

The great beast swaggered through the government pier’s hall, each step it took met with the clicking of claws against shining marble. The enlarged, bright red robe it wore flowed with a majesty that beckoned loyalty through fear. Its fur took on a pinkish hue from the extensive surgeries and its eyes became a dreadful black with unnaturally white pupils to enhance its baleful gaze. With shiny black claws and teeth that could easily tear creatures in two in conjunction with its newfound mass. Well over three meters in height, it loomed over all, even its bodyguards looked like it’s immature youths only grasping at the level it was on. The Alpha was nothing less than a monster.

Cergaine Gyurr trailed behind the Alpha, as they watched one of its bodyguards open a door to a balcony overseeing the Greater Omega Center. They would call out to the Alpha.

“Farkal! What is this you’ve done to yourself!?” Cergaine would shout as they started to approach the Alpha, who had stopped in its tracks.

“This is a disgrace, Farkal! You are a disgrace! First you swoop in to claim the robes of the Alpha just after his death, and then you-” The Alpha looked over its shoulder to see Cergaine, its eye staring into him with an intense loathing that quickly shut them up.

”I thank you when you remain silent, Cergaine.” The Alpha would hiss. It’s voice still reminiscent of the creature Cergaine had known, but with strength and a peculiarly malignant sneer.

Cergaine nodded, and quickly fled like a weaker predator, and the Alpha went on the balcony alone, and laid its massive hands on the guardrail and looked down at the metropolis below.

Like a malignant king spawned from ancient fables, the Alpha giggled to itself as it pondered what was to come.