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Verse
Star
- Joined
- May 8, 2011
People found the stars, and the stars found them back. Homosapien Erectus diluted its individuality among many other creatures in space. And in space, they found what they'd always had in their own back yard.
Conflict.
There would always be friction. Wars, large and small, in crevices between microbes, and in planetary systems between critter not entirely unlike man, with humming and darting vehicles, and explosive, multicolored weapons.
Because of this, there was a coalition. A gathering of entities that promoted diplomacy. But, as with everything that gains power, the Union tried to rule, underhanded. Sometimes well-meaning, and sometimes corrupt, it became the standard after which other things had to hold themselves. How do you compare yourself to hypocrisy?
And then other places didn't even consider peace. The planet Obelhim. Large like a star, with merciless gravity. Tradition grew in its networks underneath the surface, and among its monstrous surface population. A boutique service for those that wanted End-all warriors. Strange, multilimbed pilots who could command fleets with their biological inputs, and enormous beasts, capable of wining duels with a swing of their arm. Obelhim was renown for producing triumphant members of any army. But their prizes were steep, and their traditions were hard to navigate. Like any elite guild, they were mostly unattainable, and that got in the way of their deserved fame.
Raduu was a son of Obelhim. At once both a success and a point of shame. He was not prodigal. He had been born and raised for the wars in the Raphera sector in the Hucc quadrant. A millennia of skirmishes. One of the barons, owner of several mining planets, had bought Raduu's life. And when the Obelae did his task by tearing through pivotal generals and their guard, when they gathered for another, doomed-to-fail parley, the famous wars of Raphera ended. Only the baron had sought the victory for his vanity, and the materials he mined dropped desperately in demand in the confused peace that followed. Somehow, Obelhim had raised its furious son too well, because he survived his purpose.
An honorary member of The Union, because of his technical peace work, Raduu had been ingested by the political machine, and was now being spit out with a ship and a crew, on his way as an envoy of the Union, to broker another impossible peace in another unsurmountable war.
It took the Cressar, a ship of his own design paid for by shiny Union credits, to one of the Balvorria-adjacent satellite clusters. The captain Raduu and his rambunctious whims, had scared away the ship's medic. What did morals have to do in his chain of command, anyway? And they were now on the market for a new one.
As he walked around the serene, glass protected stations of the Nebba Cluster, a hub for commerce in this part of space, he was hoping for Balvorrians to test his strength on, though, at most he should be able to find Neovorrians here, their diluted counterparts, bred with humans to fade the traits Raduu was seeking, and admiring the race for.
He had to hurry back, and was still chewing on a vegetable dish the vendor had sworn was a delicacy around here. Seems his first mate had found a candidate, per the message she sent on his com link, attached around around his left thumb. The Obelae had his uniform on, its mercury lines through black weave underlining his mostly human anatomy, though standing taller than any such weak races. He presented himself at the bridge of the Cressar first, and then jogged to the small office adjacent. He expected to be greeted by both his first mate, and the maybe-new medic. His black hair was kept back with oils, and that made his facial features prominent. His dark eyebrows were bushy, and made his brow look larger, which contradicted the rest of the elegance in his features. It also made him look perpetually angry.
"Yes." he demanded, with all the command of owning this vessel, and having ended and saved worlds with in his previous life.
Conflict.
There would always be friction. Wars, large and small, in crevices between microbes, and in planetary systems between critter not entirely unlike man, with humming and darting vehicles, and explosive, multicolored weapons.
Because of this, there was a coalition. A gathering of entities that promoted diplomacy. But, as with everything that gains power, the Union tried to rule, underhanded. Sometimes well-meaning, and sometimes corrupt, it became the standard after which other things had to hold themselves. How do you compare yourself to hypocrisy?
And then other places didn't even consider peace. The planet Obelhim. Large like a star, with merciless gravity. Tradition grew in its networks underneath the surface, and among its monstrous surface population. A boutique service for those that wanted End-all warriors. Strange, multilimbed pilots who could command fleets with their biological inputs, and enormous beasts, capable of wining duels with a swing of their arm. Obelhim was renown for producing triumphant members of any army. But their prizes were steep, and their traditions were hard to navigate. Like any elite guild, they were mostly unattainable, and that got in the way of their deserved fame.
Raduu was a son of Obelhim. At once both a success and a point of shame. He was not prodigal. He had been born and raised for the wars in the Raphera sector in the Hucc quadrant. A millennia of skirmishes. One of the barons, owner of several mining planets, had bought Raduu's life. And when the Obelae did his task by tearing through pivotal generals and their guard, when they gathered for another, doomed-to-fail parley, the famous wars of Raphera ended. Only the baron had sought the victory for his vanity, and the materials he mined dropped desperately in demand in the confused peace that followed. Somehow, Obelhim had raised its furious son too well, because he survived his purpose.
An honorary member of The Union, because of his technical peace work, Raduu had been ingested by the political machine, and was now being spit out with a ship and a crew, on his way as an envoy of the Union, to broker another impossible peace in another unsurmountable war.
It took the Cressar, a ship of his own design paid for by shiny Union credits, to one of the Balvorria-adjacent satellite clusters. The captain Raduu and his rambunctious whims, had scared away the ship's medic. What did morals have to do in his chain of command, anyway? And they were now on the market for a new one.
As he walked around the serene, glass protected stations of the Nebba Cluster, a hub for commerce in this part of space, he was hoping for Balvorrians to test his strength on, though, at most he should be able to find Neovorrians here, their diluted counterparts, bred with humans to fade the traits Raduu was seeking, and admiring the race for.
He had to hurry back, and was still chewing on a vegetable dish the vendor had sworn was a delicacy around here. Seems his first mate had found a candidate, per the message she sent on his com link, attached around around his left thumb. The Obelae had his uniform on, its mercury lines through black weave underlining his mostly human anatomy, though standing taller than any such weak races. He presented himself at the bridge of the Cressar first, and then jogged to the small office adjacent. He expected to be greeted by both his first mate, and the maybe-new medic. His black hair was kept back with oils, and that made his facial features prominent. His dark eyebrows were bushy, and made his brow look larger, which contradicted the rest of the elegance in his features. It also made him look perpetually angry.
"Yes." he demanded, with all the command of owning this vessel, and having ended and saved worlds with in his previous life.