Forums » Sci-Fi Roleplay » The New Galaxy/First Encounters. Open.

Smoke churned from factories, polluting the air, which was a dark blue from the smoke. Clouds were a dark grey, almost nothing compared to the sky. A sun burned, but it almost was blocked out by the smog. Anything that lived had to wear a gas mask, it was that bad.
Cars drove in streets below, creating huge traffic jams, while the more privileged flew in grand air craft above the ground, dodging the choking mass of humans below. Sirens wailed as the police caught, and chased, criminals that escaped, or just got into the world. For the most part, it was hell.
The buildings rose up from the ground, towering over everything and casting dark, black shadows. They themselves were black, but the smallest were breaking apart. Only the richest were kept clean and repaired; the others died off. The streets were filled with the poor, and there was no grass. None at all.
In the middle of this vast, overpopulated city was a fortress, the walls rising up, and stopping thirty feet up. Battlements were filled with patrols, and the AA guns pointed to the air, always ready for something. The barbed wire that filled the castle like walls were dark, almost rusting. Huge Anti Ship guns pointed in the air, always scanning for a threat.
Inside that was the heart of the Solar System: the Palace. It had the Führer Emperor residing in it. He was the last of his kind, and the second. The first had been killed in battle, and died on his Throne of Power, where he now sat. As usual, his throne was underneath hardened glass, staring up into the ever dark and gloomy sky. And he was getting bored of it.
Going into the Throne Room was a massive door, covered in rusty metal, and rotting wood. Everyone knew they needed to fix them, but no one could get to it. Large pillars stood supporting the massive roof, and stopping it from collapsing. The throne room was the only place not affected by the death of the world. The entire place was falling into ruins, and they had to leave. Now.
A man wearing Artificer Armor walked into the throne room. His armour was black, with a white trim. He had the SS symbol, two lightning bolts in the shape of S's, on the right shoulder pad, and his rank on the left. He wore a Field Marshal's cap, which was more of a Commissar’s cap, on his head, with the Double Eagle facing outwards. He had a cape that flowed behind his back, and onto the floor.
The man's face was dark, but still white. He had some small, black stubble, and a jet black head of hair. He had no expression on his face, just that of the usual day: bore. He was bored, and beneath it all, he longed for a way out. In a way, he was stuck to this horrible place, left to die with the rest of the race that didn't make it to the colonies. Now, that he was sick of. How he, a Field Marshal, master of an Army, protector of the Human Race, got left alone on an island in the midst of a sea of space.
So, that was where he was now. Giving the latest report to the Emperor, and that was it. Not much more to do then, except, perhaps, to talk to him about the latest problem. That is, the state of the Planet, and why it was like this.
The Emperor seemed to have prepared himself, knowing of this man's arrival. He sat in his chair, the Golden Throne, and stared out into the hallway, which was crumbling. For some strange reason, everything about this planet was messed up.
The Emperor looked Royal, his gowns touching the ground. He had a red cape on, and golden robes, which reflected the light. He had blonde hair flowing down to his shoulders, and blue eyes. He could speak many languages, and was fluent in almost all. He wore a golden ring, with a Ruby in it. Some said that the Ruby stored great Psychic power, but nobody knew for sure.
The Man slowly approached the Emperor, his armour clanking on the ground, the boots echoing. Artificer Armour met tile, and the noise echoed. The Emperor winced a bit, knowing the damage it caused. But that was a part of his life. Collateral damage. He lived with it. Finally, after around two minutes, the man approached the Emperor, and began to speak.
“Emperor, My Lord, I bring to you the reports from my most trusted spies and from the Front,” The man said, kneeling on the ground. He had his head downwards, with the arm on the armoured knee. He waited a bit before turning his head, and looking up towards the Emperor, waiting for something.
“Rise, Field Marshal Corinth, Defender of the Proletariat, Master of the Imperial Armies,” The Emperor said, standing, and helping the man rise. He weighed a lot, but the Emperor was strong in so many ways, after all, he was massive. He sighed, and closed his eyes, rolling them at the same old ritual. “And speak,”
“Yes, My Lord,” Corinth said, and stood up, accepting the help that the Emperor offered. He, too, was massive, and his armour was nerve linked, which made it much easier. He looked up at the Emperor, and began to speak again. “My Lord, as you requested, I have here, and will present orally, the information of the Front, and the Home. First, the least of the dire problems. At the front, we have won a victory, and now control a single new planet. However, it is in danger of an invasion, and we are requesting for some support, which I am sure you will offer,”
“Naturally, yes. If you want my appearance, though, you have to ask better, as I am most likely NOT going to show up. By the way, what is the statistics of the Armies?”
“Of course, My Lord. I was just getting to that,” Corinth said, smiling. He brushed his hair back, and continued on. “Our Army, not including the Navy and Air Force, is numbered in the millions, though exact numbers are hard to obtain during this time. I, myself, have not been there, though I think Ascrith was, at some time. The enemy, however, is numbered in the billions, at least one to two, with around 10,000 Chaos Space Marines. Our ships are in the Hundreds, with at least twelve Battle Barges. We should be able to hold out for a bit, being the defending side. However, I encourage at least 1 billion extra troops to be sent to help,”
The Emperor nodded, gathering this and putting it together in his head. He calculated in his head that he should send at least, at the most, 1,000 Space Marines, or one chapter to help. He knew that the number of Imperial Guardsmen would be sufficient to stop the assault, and hold it. He had no plan of invading any more.
“Sir, I have to make a suggestion, and you might not like it. I still have one more report left,” Corinth said, staring at the Emperor.
“What? You have another report?” The Emperor said, staring back. Then he remembered that he did have another report. “Very well. Speak,”
Corinth nodded, then gave the dire news. He was right. The Emperor wouldn't like it. “Our planet, sir, has a special surprise in it. As you know, we are crumbling, and loosing our grip on sanity, life, and this world. While there are colonists on the edge of the system, we have found two things. The first, is that deep inside our planet is a Tyranid Beacon, right in our core, and we don't know much about it. Apparently, it is still active, but just a dud. I wouldn't take my chances, My Lord. The second thing,” He said, his face lighting up with this. Clearly, with the second part, he was happy. “We have found a new Galaxy, slowly drifting towards ours. It contains many, many planets which can support life, and in five days, it will only take a week of Warp travel to get there,”
The Emperor didn't speak, only thought for a second. He sat down again, and fiddled with his fingers and ring. When he continued, Corinth asked him what he thought, and he just put up his hand. Perhaps, if he planned it right, he WOULD be able to live again, along with most of his race. He did think, long and hard. Then he looked back, with a somewhat sceptical eye.
“What army size do you want, then?” The Emperor asked, smiling with the thought of complete survival. At this point, he was ready to send 90% of everything to the Galaxy to regain his control. He knew, though, that other countries, planets, and nations would do the same.
“Enough, sir. Around 90% of everything. I have to secure at least five planets to accommodate our population. We have that much, sir. But, until we can get everything into Space, we have to prepare,” Corinth explained, still standing. He paused for breath, and gathered his thoughts together. “If I may, sir, I wish to go back, and ready the Armies,”
“As you wish. Tend to your duties as Field Marshal, Corinth. I wish for you to prepare yourself, and make sure that not a single person knows about this until two days before. Tell no one but the other Field Marshals, and the Inquisitor Lords,”
“Your wish is my command, My Lord,” Corinth said, and the Emperor rolled his eyes. That could get annoying, eventually. Corinth walked out of the crumbling room, and to his Thunderhawk Gunship, where the rest of the Squad was waiting. He waved, and they all got in, taking off, and heading for the Battle Barge that was orbiting the planet. They soon took off, moving for the Science Planet closest to the nearest Galaxy. The Warp engines activated, sending the massive ship and her escorts into a bit of Hell, protected and escorted by Psychics and their Shields.

* * * * *

Ascrith was in his command tent when he received a message from Corinth, an old friend. Ascrith was reading a book, one of the Ancient ones: The Shining, the author long since dead. He enjoyed reading it, however old and outdated it was. Some may laugh, but he enjoyed it very much.
Ascrith looked, almost old. He had long, flowing black hair, and a clean shaven face, with one scar. He wore no armour at the moment, though he had his Lord Inquisitor armour and Field Marshal armour in the tent with him. He had an old .45 revolver on the table, and a cigar in his mouth. He had blue eyes, like the Emperor, which reminded many that he was, in fact, related in some way.
When he read the message, he was shocked, and when he read the last bit about not telling anyone, he would keep his word. Well, that is, to him and his Squad of 10 Honour Guards. They would not say anything. Speaking of which, the Captain, Captain Lysander, walked in, his garments flowing in the calm, cool wind.
“Sir? You called?” Lysander asked, following orders. He was tall, just like Ascrith, and the same height: eight feet. He had brown clothes on, like robes, and a black cape trailing behind him. His hair was brown, but short and well kept, unlike Ascrith, whose hair was a mess at times.
“Yes, Captain. I did call for you,” Ascrith said, pushing the chair back, and standing up. He put the bookmark in the pages, and walked towards Lysander. “I don't think you know this, hell, I am sure you don't, but our home planet will soon be in trouble, and we have found a way out. There is a galaxy moving close to ours, and we can escape via that. However, we need our forces to move there, so I, and my squadron, have been selected to help with the small things over at the Science Planet,”
“Is...is that all?” Lysander asked, a little confused, and somewhat shocked. He couldn't be scared though. He had no way, no humanly, or inhuman way to be scared. It was genetically coded into him not to be scared. “I can't really seem to grasp this idea. I don't know if it's because I'm stupid, or because I'm simply shocked, and I most definably am not stupid,”
“What are you confused about?”
“Why the planet is in trouble. I thought the fighting was going on over here, no? So why would the planet be in trouble?”
Ascrith told the story, every last bit, about how they found things in the crust, and just about everything. It took around ten minutes, but by the time he was done, Lysander understood completely. There was no doubt in his mind about it. After the story, Ascrith dismissed Lysander, and told him to retell the story to the other 10, and said it must remain secret. Lysander agreed, and bowed, leaving the tent. Later that night, the ten SS soldiers were given orders not to tell, and they kept their word.
Ascrith returned to his book, leafing through the pages with care, and leaning back in his chair. It had grown late, around eleven 'o clock at night, and he was getting tired from the exhausting day he had. They had held the line, and the Imperial Guardsmen were simply exhausted. Most of the Space Marines they had were now holding the line while the Guardsmen rested, but it wasn't enough, and everyone knew it. Eventually, the line would break. But not on his watch, and not today. Later? He didn't care if it happened later.
By the time he went to sleep, which was rare for a person like him, the distant rumble of artillery continued well into the night. It lulled him to sleep, and he smiled, for he knew what that meant. It meant that the air strikes had ceased long enough for the artillery to restart their barrage of enemy lines. For him, that was a good thing. It was a wonderful thing. It meant they could have some help that night.
The air whispered around him, lulling him to sleep, calming him, and the rest of the Guardsmen and Marines. They all could rest that night while the new Marines held the line.

* * * * *

Vladimir was the only one who wasn't on duty, who wasn't doing anything of importance. He was just walking down the streets of Emacra, a garden planet off in the edge of the Galaxy, untouched by anything. For now, that is. He enjoyed walking amongst the vibrant and colourful aura that was the planet. The streets were well kept, and seldom dirty. There was no pollution on the planet at all, mostly because everything there was made from wood and things brought from other planets.
Far above him, up in space, was the only Port on the planet, which was rare for a planet from the Imperium. It was rather small, and only supported one Battle Barge if needed. Small shuttles flew up and down from the Port, moving to bring goods and other items to the planet's surface. They had made a pact that nothing on this planet, not even the air, was to be used by anything other than what was needed. That meant no selling of the resources for external planets.
This was a planet that everyone could go to, being on the Neutral Corners. All four Empires could go to the planet, and enjoy it constantly, without any worries of being attacked, or killed. No crime erupted on the planet's surface, and as such, there was no need for jails. That being said, some people occasionally thought of using the planet for military purposes, but being under the major control of HRA, it couldn't be touched.
On this particular day, Vladimir was walking towards his summer home, if one could even call it that. This was his relaxation home, a home away from his duties as Field Marshal Commissar. That being said, people did call him while he was there, but they knew that if it wasn't immediately urgent, they wouldn't live long.
He had just finished walking for a couple of hours, and was now opening the wooden door. Small, dark support beams littered the outside, a reminder of ancient times long gone. The windows were large, and let in much light, and a fire almost always burned inside, the smoke rising out of the stone chimney. He had built this himself, and included many of the things his Flagship had.
When he opened the door, the hinges creaked, slowly revealing a magnificent abode. Off in the right corner was the kitchen, with non-stop windows streaking from one side of the kitchen, across the corner of the house, and to the other end. It was a beautiful place, and had a sight of the mountain, with its large snow covered peaks.
Off in the left was the wooden stairway, and a living room. There was a fireplace inside, with a sliding glass door and windows leading out to the patio, which also had a small fireplace. Beneath the patio was a massive waterfall, the largest in the world. It stood 20,000 feet off the ground, and it was on the largest mountain range in the world, but not the tallest. Behind him stood the tallest, at 45,0000 feet tall.
They were truly a sight to behold, capturing the mind of many an artist and poet, who wrote and painted beautiful scenes of the mist rising up. Vladimir liked this home that he owned, and bragged about it constantly whenever he could. That he was notorious for.
He, too, received the message with a little confusion, and after some talking with The Emperor, he finally understood the threat. When he asked what he should do, he was given the order to not attack, but to wait until the perfect moment to hit them hard enough that the men could escape through the nearest Galaxy, which would be safe from Tyranids.
He, too, began his preparations for this... encounter. The first of which involved getting his coffee out of his machine, and drinking it. After that was done, he could finally sit down, and fully grasp the enormity of this... thing. The thoughts ran across his mind like feet on a treadmill, and just wouldn't stop moving. What would he do, exactly, to stop this? What on earth could he do??

* * * * *

Arik Taranis was training in the forest of the Soldier's Acadamy when he was given this news, but he didn't reach it, not quite yet. He himself was still fighting the fake war that he had going on. The only time he did get it was when he was in HQ, and the news shocked him. Still, he had to let everything else go on, and hope that it wouldn't bring too much of a problem to the table.
He still continued with his work, as did everyone else. He, and every single person who knew about this, was in the middle of something, and as such, could not attend to this. This downfall would soon prove deadly, but no-one would know the extent of this.

((I need three other people to play the leaders of the other Empires. That would be appreciated, so we can have an effective story line.))";

Alex strolled down the elegant streets without a care in the world as he passed multiple bowed heads and kept going. He didn't mind the attention, but sometimes it was just too much. Emacra was a beautiful planet and he loved his seaside house on the cliffs. It was fairly large with marble floors and some golden trim, fit for the third leader. "I love this place." He mumbled picking up an apple with a delighted squeak from the man behind the cart. "Pleasure pleasing you Sire." The man said beaming. Alex smiled and continued down the road.

Alex arrived at his house much later then he expects and saw that someone had been in his house. Quickly, he grabbed his plasma gun from his holster on his back and clicked the safety off. He went inside and listened hard for any Cigna of life besides his loving dog Maple. Finding none, he proceeded to the kitchen and set his gun on the table while picking up the letter in the center of the table. "Strange. I know that wasn't there before." He mumbled picking it up and reading it. "We'll I already knew that. Waste of paper." Alex grumbled going over to his couch and laying down on it, falling asleep in seconds.
((Mind if I join??))))

Vladimir woke up in his bed with a little bit of a stiffness, most likely from the Stress. He was tired from sitting in the couch, and managed, some way, to get to his bed. Instantly, he opened the door to the cool, morning air that was the outside. Next, he grabbed his cup of coffee, and drank all of it, warming his body. His short hair ruffled a little bit in the wind, and it calmed him more than ever.

He was planned to meet with the other Empire Leaders to talk about some intergalactic matters, and what not, some military conquests, and about recent discoveries. He was told to not give any information about the Beacons, but he could sure as hell talk about the Tyranid threat that was drawing ever closer, ever nearer, and moving slowly.

Field Marshal Vladimir of the Third Army Group, Lord of the Assault Troops, dressed himself in his brown Trench Coat, brown combat boots, and dress clothing. He had pins of medals on him, ribbons, and stars. He had a Field Marshal cap on his head, and walked out the door, cigar smoking from his face. He had a nice smile on it, and everyone knew that the only time he would use the Cigar or any type of nicotine, was to impress people.

He himself was mostly Russian, or their equivalent of it, and spoke in an accent, as expected. His movements were slow, fast sometimes, but always purposeful and with reason. His hand would move slowly to take the Cigar out of mouth, and blow the smoke out, which curled above his head.

Near his house was the Meeting Place, and he was ready for it. He took a seat on the bench, and waited for the rest of them to come, still smoking, cap on.

Alexander's alarm blared brought the destruction of he Milky Way. He threw the alarm clock across the room, breaking it against the marble wall. "Heh, they should make clocks to withstand soldiers." He mumbled to himself with a cocky grin as he grabbed a towel from the closet and took a quick shower.

The water cascaded down his body as he scrubbed he dirt away from today's leisurely walk. Alex turned off the water and wrapped the towel around his lower half, opening the glass shower door and entering the warm bathroom. He wiped off the foggy mirror and put his boxers on and his pants. Alex put some deodorant on and put his black techno shirt on with his jean jacket overtop of it and threw the damp towel in the tub after drying his shaggy hair. Alex put his watch on and looked at the time. "Crap I'm late." He mumbled shoving his shoes in his converse sneakers and grabbing his black T390 Cell phone from the end table. "It they give me crap about being late I'm going to show them....." He trailed off taking off after opening the front door and lockin it. The designated meetin place was about five miles away..

Alex turned the last corner and saw that he wasn't late, rather early compared to the others who weren't here yet. He saw the man sitting on the bench and sat on the other men. "Caio, è il frutto maturo per la presa?" He asked in Italian. The question he asked were his code words for "Hello, is the galaxy ready for invasion?" Only the other leaders would know what he went, any other civilian would think he was crazy. The wind picked up a little as Alex took out a coffee that he bought on his way and took a sip, admiring the sunset.

"Tis solo se è davvero pronta. Guarda quello che dici amico, potrebbe costare qualcosa." Vladimir responded, staring up in the cool wind. He had his Cigar twirling in his mouth, the smoke curling above him and floating. The Cigar was out of the side, so he could speak, and when he took it out, his two finger tips touched it carefully. He knew he was a Badass, and acted like such.

Vladimir got up and shook the man's hand, and offering him a cigar. It was customary in his Empire, that in the place of a superior, he saluted, but he didn't count much other people as superior. That was just how he rolled. Vladimir knew that both of them were early, and as such, readied himself with a few conversations he could start with the other guy.

One in particular popped into his mind. This one was of a very pressing matter. So pressing, it had to be discussed. The fate of his sanity rested on it. Or, at least, his ego.

"Hello," Vladimir said, shaking his hand. "Vellcome to The Meeting. How are you?"

Alex accepted the cigar and took a lighter out of his pocket." Yes, but many know of the empires dire situation. he said answering the first comment he made, putting the cigar in his mouth. "Honestly I'm Bored, Bored with Emacra and craving war." Alex said with a smile as he put the lighter in his pocket and checked the time on his T390 Cell Watch. "Am I early or are the other late?" he asked sitting on the back of the bench and watching the clouds roll across the night sky, obscuring the beautiful moon. The wind was playing with Alex's short black hair and causing goose bumps down his skin, but he had been in far colder climates with far less clothing.

Vladimir had to ponder this question that the leader posed. More precisely, he had to ponder what he meant about The Empire. How did he know of this threat? Why, why would anyone have told him? More importantly, why is there not too many people?

"It seemz, comrade, zat our friendz are a bit late," Vladimir said, agreeing with him. He removed his cap, and combing his hair, relieved the itch that was there. He put the cap back on, and walked towar the doors. "Coming?"

He waited for Alex to get close enough that he could talk to him without turning his head.

"I find, unfortunately, that War isn't always the best answer. For instance, I fought the Ork Warboss Thrakal. He was horrible, and it cost me my eye, and my sanity for a bit. But that wasn't the worst, no sir," Vladimir said, still keeping his accent. "When I encountered Chaos, it was a day I would never forget. My Command Squad was cornered by Traitors and Chaos Marines, and I captured. There, I was tortured so badly, I lost my sight, and broke several bones. I lost my sanity so much, that when I was brought back, I tried killing my doctor, thinking he was my torturer,"

"Nothing better to do while we're here." Alex shrugged walking towards the door with Vladimir. "So, how long do you think it will take for the other leaders to arrive?" he asked running his hand through his hair out of habit and leaning against the elegant columns and taking another drag of the cigar.

"A bit, I would think," Vladimir replied, twirling his cigar in his hands. He stared at Alex, who was now leaning on the columns like a punk, and it disgusted Vladimir. This kid had no respect for the work, the time, the effort it took to make this, and moreover, in the presence of a powerful military and political leader, he acted like a slouch. Now, while it made Vladimir, a man of great character, manners, and mind, look like a god, it embarrassed him that he took the time to talk to this person.

He decided to bring up one of his wonderful conversations, and thought about starting off with the one about The Meeting Room.

"Did you know that I built this, along with others from the Four Empires, with our bare hands? It was a sign of Peace, and Prosperity,"

"Yes, And I personally admire your work." Alex said throwing the cigar in a trash bin and crushing the tip to keep anything from burning. "Sorry If I look like a slob, I forgot about this meeting and couldn't find my uniform." Alex said with a dazzling white smile. It was true that he respected this man, but he hated to look like a suck up in front of other people, much less people of his own rank of authority. "Remember when I threw that bucket of paint at the governor and he just sat there dripping in paint for twenty minutes?" Alex said laughing, moving off the column and took another sip of his coffee.

"Yes, I remember," Vladimir said in a thick accent, he opened the door, still not amused. He was the hardest person in the entire world, and maybe the solar system. Almost nothing made him laugh, and even less made him joke around. It was true that he remembered that paint incident, and it might have been funny, if it wasn't Ascrith's friend who was drenched. Boy, was he pissed. "If you don't mind, I have a duty to fulfill, and I don't want to joke around with this severe of a conversation. It is critical that you remain calm and collected during this meeting, as it will decide the fate of the galaxy,"

"I wasn't planning to act like a little boy at his friends birthday party at the meeting, I was striking a conversation while we wait for the other leaders to arrive. They are very late this evening." Alex said taking his jacket off and folding it over his arm, pockets in towards him. Alex closed his eyes and tilted his head towards the ceiling. Everybody underestimated him because of his actions, when In reality he was one of the best leaders in history to rule the Third Kingdom.

"Glad to hear that," Vladimir said, waiting for the rest. It was true. There was only Vladimir and Alex, and that wasn't enough to conduct a meeting. True, there was something bad going on, but with only two people out of four, it wouldn't run very well. He still and to wait for the others to show up.