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Blinking his azure eyes in acknowledgement of her decision.

Then goddess give one of these..Shardlings, to each and instruct them to be ready to leave in one rotation of your world, I will make preperations for the apportation, they will be quite safe in our keeping and will be returned in what would be a single sessions time..a standard year is the concept that applies most, now if you have no further use of my prescense I will return to my craft..I have much to be about, you may always contact me via the mother shard.

With his last comment his clawed arm indicated the brilliant blue white crystal, that now all ten of the Shard lings was orbiting in a soft slow motion.

If no more is required, Valhere spreads his wings and lifts his mass from the surface of Liamarr, with several powerful downsweeps of his pinions he climbs hundreds of feet into the frozen air, before vanishing in a bright burst of blue light..

Apportation successful professor, how went the overall of the first contact?

Mulling the events of the encounter through his minds...

Fascinating would be the most apt descriptor...prepare housing for ten of Liamarr's natives and adjust life support in a warren of support niches for same...seems we may have our first foreign students.....

The Goddess coalesced into her temple and looked to the High priest.

'Gather your orderlies, you leave tonight to go to the College, and learn'

The high priest furrowed his brow, the frost of air chilling the aura.

'The College?' he asked quizically, picking up the sceptre of priesthood. 'If it is your wish my Goddess we go now. To board the vessel.'

The high priest and his orderlies left the temple in a hurried manner. She sat alone, in the cold wind which would shear the flesh from anymortal who did not have a bio-suit.

'hmph..' she said to herself. 'Plans to prosper and not to harm is all I ask.

Darastrix V far southern continent.

Karatoum the red, surveyed his household's newest crop of pledges, the tremendous Daragon, thickly muscled from hundreds of years of warfare studies, and cultural pursuits (primarily hunting and consuming countless species of dangerous lifeforms), had become quite curt with freshmen, often testing them at the slightest provocation, but every wound delt..every bone splintered..every gallon of ichor spilt was a lesson, such is the path of the College, and warfare is yet another classroom.

Unfurling his sail-like wings, Karatoum soared along the ranks of the assembled pledges, noting colors, demeanors, physical traits all taken in with the practiced eye of a professor of war.

Landing with a ground shaking impact Karatoum turned to the impassive plebs..his mental sending was as a hammer blow to porcelain.

Welcome to the Fraternity of the RED! you may count yourselves fortunate that ...we are now expanding our charter..and now you may count yourselves unfortunate for being the first to experience my new teaching protocols...

At that a dozen Elder Brothers and sisters of the RED apportated amongst the several hundred pledges, and assailed them..mentally, physically and verbally, bones snapped, and hide was singed, frozen, charred , and boiled. Tremendous impacts were made as REDs taught these soft Daragons their first harsh lesson in close combat, a few of the pledges fought well enough to attract the attention of a pair or even worse a trio of the elders..those would spend several days in the regen tanks, but their skills would be marked.

No fatalities were allowed, not at this stage of training at least, this after all was just a "meet and greet"

NOW! that is out of the way, you will have a concept of what a fully trained Fraternity member can inflict, with nothing more than mind, and body. Technology is merely a tool, we master ourselves and then the toolbox is opened. Welcome Pledges, and good luck!

Karatoum;s mind then drifted to consider his Household members now in route to planet designate Velusia, and what marvelous theorems they would get to explore upon the embarkation of a military field exercise....

7th orbit of the system designate "Velusia"
Two tremendous Daragon planetoid craft. Artfully carved into the likenesses of images of Daragon warfare and triumph slide through the highest orbits of the pale green and blue world, silently fissure and apretures developed as smaller shard craft separated and began the methodical dance of planetary conquest..

Far below a world deemed. Unimportant for fields of academia, but possessing vast untapped mineral reserves..slept, its early space age neo-hominid race unaware of what transpired high above them, their simple minds clouded where required for stealth, reports went un filed and careful watchers of the sky ..averted their gazes at precise moments..all was well, just another night..leading to another day.....

 High Emperor Aggron wrote:
When Valhere arrived he looked onto a garden dead in a cracked and failing marble courtyard. Looking around he saw a creature dressed in the splendour of the God's and she spoke, projecting her thoughts with the grace of an angel.

'Long ago, I was created by the God, Aetheros. He is an all powerful God and asked me when I was born what I was to be. I replied, A Goddess like my father a God. He granted me my wish and told me to use my power wisely. Many days we would walk in the Garden of the Ancients, He would look at a stone that stood in an open clearing and he'd say "There is the forge of creation with which all beings I hammer into existence." He'd continue to speak "None but I may use it." and we'd continue our walk. But each day I would look back at the Forge of Creation. I envied my father for not letting me use it.. and so one day I went to it, and took up the hammer and created the Liamarr, as my own, without knowing my father was watching from the balcony all the while. On completion my father stormed to me, smacking me down with his mighty hand he cursed me.. " To live a gods life as a mortal, consuming your creation." I was forbade to ever return to the Garden of the ancients, and what you see now is as close as what I can create. There in the clearing,' the Goddess pointed to a stone.

'That is the anvil of sacrifice, to which untold hundreds of my people I have connsumed. Due to my curse and damnation, My father also created every other sentient race to bleed me. "until the mountains shake and the skies bleed, and the oceans run dry, this long I tell you, you are damned to be Co'dra He'an.'

'It means fallen.' the words slipped from her mind accidentally.

-------------------Ku'rea colonisation of Uro.--------------

'Send probes out to every corner of the galaxy, Mak. I wish to know whoever is out there.' Mak lumbered over to a holo panel and typed in a code to allow the recorder to start.

'I am Ku'rea of the Liamarr republic, to all who answer, we are alive and we wish to know of you more.' She paused, and lifed gently her hand to her face. What are we in for

The conquests of the new worlds were going quite well, already the Jiralhanae were rapidly being crushed by the vastly superior numbers and firepower of the soviets, the socialist alliance on the planet being fed with resources and technology to support them as the Red Army marched forward, crushing all before it in a carpet of vehicles, robots, and soldiers beyond counting. Even if the soviets didn't have vastly superior technology to the Brutes, they had more soldiers in the colonization fleet than the Jiralhanae had bullets to shoot at them. This battle would be over rather quickly, a short, glorious liberation was in effect.

The combine fleet, not designed particularly well for space warfare as the organization was so heavily dependent on interdimensional portals, encountered the soviet fleet in much the same way a sentence encounters a full stop. The preliminary long range bombardment gutted much of the combine fleet while wings of strike craft swarmed around them, fighters and interceptors tearing into their own strike craft, attack craft sniping at key points on their ships and blasting them apart, bombers laying waste to large sections of them and gutting several of the much smaller combine synth ships, while those that survived were then met with the combat boats of the union's fleet.

Missiles, guns, torpedoes, tesla blasts, radiation beams all leapt out of the smaller boats and slammed into the flesh and metal construction of the cybernetic ships, their death cries carried only as far as their lost atmospheres would allow them to be carried. It was ultimately a rather pathetic display of force by the combine, resulting in no casualties more serious than a few damaged strike craft as the last of the Combine's fleet was swept aside like matchsticks. Moving to park themselves in orbit, the soviet fleet then began a preliminary bombardment with smaller scale orbital munitions, targeting key points of defense on the world from the heavens above before releasing their swarms of strike craft once again to rip across the planet and engage in further bombardment and attainment of air supremacy.

Following them came drop pods, teleport troops, and shuttle landers that deposited swarms of soviet soldiers, robots, and war machines that thundered across the planet. The very earth shook and trembled as the thunder of over a million artillery units sounded, shells, rockets, and missiles literally raining down from the sky, accompanied by the low powered precision blasts from the fleet above, magnetic beams that were swept over the planet to wrench the combine's vehicles into the cold depths of space before throwing them back down to smash their former users and the feared Red air force struck with impunity, decimating virtually anything it saw.

The Turians faired little better than the Combine, as while they were more seasoned at space warfare, their puny 20kg slugs simply glanced off of the shielding of the soviet ships arrayed against them, while the vastly larger and faster shells of soviet space cannons blew past their mass effect shields like so much chaff, not even mentioning the fact that energy weapons simply ignored their shields. The soviets simply kept on moving their fleet forward as their long range weapons, strike craft, and boats decimated the Hierarchy's fleet, the stubborn aliens remaining firmly in place even when the Dreadnought Potemkin started ramming through multiple Turian ships; their hulls cracking apart and splintering before frying against the iron curtain shields as the colonization fleet parked itself over the planet.

Once again, death rained down from orbit to wipe out the Turian's anti-aircraft capability before the brave pilots of the Union descended down from the stars like a million angry birds, laying waste to anything they saw. Now landing en masse onto the planet, the soviets were frequently met by shaken Turians who simply surrendered to the advancing warriors of Socialism, terrified by the preliminary bombardment while other more dogged soldiers continued to fight on. The Turians were disciplined, stubborn soldiers, but the Soviets were more advanced and vastly more numerous, though the mass effect shielding used by the Turians and near universal power armor made their infantry quite formadible opponents for more basic soviet soldiers, soviet elites who tended to carry energy weapons simply butchered them, while the vaunted armored fighting vehicles of the Union quite gleefully made the remaining Turian armored assets bite the curb.

The Orks were a greater problem though, and this battle was considerably more even. Were it not for the Ork's disdain for extreme long range space warfare, the Red space navy may have faced far more difficulties against a foe that was considerably closer to them in firepower and durability than the Combine and Turians were, but thankfully, the Soviets were able to inflict serious losses on the Orks before their ships managed to get into their preferred short range. Many attack boats and strike craft were lost to the brutish menace, but their sacrifice weakened the Orks considerably as far more up close and personal space combat began.

Ferocious broadsides were traded as the two formations flew into one another, followed by vicious boarding engagements as the two fought tooth and claw to gain an advantage. While the power armored troops retained their upper hand, in the confines of the ships, the Ork's greater strength and toughness compared to humans gave them a decisive edge in melee combat, with even the soviet's warbears proving incapable of overpowering orks, and their own mega-armored nobs were powerfully tough opponents. Many soviet ships were lost to orkish boarders before they could flood their interiors with radiation and electricity to keep the ship out of enemy hands, while others successfully sterilized themselves to stymie the invaders and others still lost to orkish guns.

But on the same token, many ork vessels were expunged by the brave soviet marines, clearing them out and leaving them drifting husks in space while other ork vessels were cornered and obliterated by the soviet armada. Ultimately, the primary Ork fleet was destroyed and the ground invasion of the planet began, a massive combined arms assault being sent down to handle the greenskins below and already cataclysmic devastation was ringing out all across the face of the verdant world while the other ork ships in the system quickly rushed in to join the fight, forcing the soviet fleet to partially break off from providing orbital support. .

The Tyranids proved to be an even more terrifying foe, no amusing taunts, no forgoing of sensible tactics in favor of getting stuck in, simply the cunning mind of an alien predator with a billion arms for it's psyche to control. Hive ships escorted by cruisers, krakens, and drones that attacked more like predatory animals than conventional naval opponents. The Tyranids seemed to be interested in defending their larger hive ships though, given that the lesser ships would often be directed to absorb shots for these massive battleship sized vessels as they were spat forth from the Red navy. This prompted the commander in charge to shift his focus unto these hive ships, even as they rapidly approached for close quarters naval engagements.

But from the home world, a message was sent out by a passing probe that was intercepted by a deep system patrol group. Grabbing the probe with magnetic harpoons, the Soviets brought it towards the medium cruiser Yelstin to be studied thoroughly, it's message analyzed and pondered, and the origin of the probe analyzed and hopefully discovered so as to proide them with a proper response. They were disappointed to find that the message was a recording rather than a two way link though, but were banking on some form of establishing such a link forming itself in short order.

**Xil** (2 habitable worlds)

continue constructing colony, land 50 roks in strategic locations

socketwrench departs for the home system

**new system codenamed Gundabad** (2 habitable worlds)

start estabishing colonies on habitable worlds

**new system not yet codenamed**

fleet arrives and starts scanning for habitable worlds

**Orkus**

continues building ships and amassing materials

start work on new spacestation out of hollowed out & converted asteroids

V.E.R.O and the rest of her squad listened too the sound of fighting for 2 hours now and it was growing closer. She search the room and found a vent but it led straight into another lab which did not help.
"V.E.R.O this unit believe we must move forward." a Drone said looking at the door.
"Agreed we will provide covering fire as you escape. You are a high priority we are expendable." Another drone said holding a a Plasma repeater capable of fire 50 bolts of plasma a minute.
"No I can't." V.E.R.O replied blocking the door.
"You must use the vent and exit through the other lab before they unleash Mortis." The Drones all replied together. Mortis? V.E.R.O never heard of it but it sounded bad.
"Ok you will be remembered." V.E.R.O replied as she entered the vent. As she crawled through the vent she could hear screams, gun fire and metal being tore apart.

------15 minutes later--------

V.E.R.O reached the lab and hacked the door, it slid open and the corners were clear she made a run for it and reached the entrance where her organic allies stud there near a pile of bodies.
"Run now!" V.E.R.O yelled as they turned the floor behind them slid open and a large cybernetic rose up with a array of weapons.
"Unit powering up! Objective kill all moving lifeforms! Purge the lab!" The large machine boomed.
"Everybody down!" V.E.R.O yelled to the organics getting them to act dead.
"Unit detects movement behind!" The suit said as it turned.
"V.E.R.O, A.I and have access." V.E.R.O said to the suit.
"Granted must continue purge!" The suit said as it turned around and began to fire.
"Right now we can leave." she said walking out of the labs with the organics.

++Start Feed: Before the negotiations of Anduran in the Rinsust sytem++

"Captain Seras, a heat signature just appeared on scanners, It's course is bearing down on Dromosius."

The Captain of the Destroyer Looked at the results on the scanner Screen.

The captain commanded the Ai to link him to what is known as S.I.N. , a virtual environment which relayed data for almost anything. The captain was soon left alone standing in space. Off in the black distance of space, Captain Seras could see a small, tiny even, heat signature. Seras was Almost surprised, his cybernetic implants repelled all emotions of fear or the sort. Merchant vessels rarely ventured out into the outer rim where pirates attack or where rogues steal you, your crew and your ship. This merchant vessel was close to 50 km away, and coming in relatively slowly.

"Plot a point on that merchant vessel," Seras said as he exited S.I.N. "Plot course and take us in close."

The ship, the Excalibur crawled toward the Merchant vessel...

++End Feed.++

++Start Feed++

as the business of the wandering merchant vessel remained unknown, the Excalibur soon loomed in on the tiny ship.

"Puto, (the ships Ai) lock on and grab the ship."

The ship responded and the lift claw used for grabbing ships or giant giants pieces of planet soon protruded from the hull of the Excalibur.

"Hail them."

Static.

the small merchant vessel was engulfed by the ship in a matter of minutes. Captain Seras left his command position and signaled 2 cyborgs to follow him to the ship that they had just taken on.

--Minutes later--

A Seras' team consisting of cyborg neophytes approached the ship, ready to kill or die for discovering what was in it. Seras read the side, it read, "Hyperion II". The Command was given to the Neophyte Cyborgs to board. They crawled all over the ship, scanning for weak points in the hull, after a few quick minutes, The began to use laser technology embedded in their arms to cut through the hull. It was cut like butter. The ship's disrepair and extensive time in the outer rim worn the ship down to a point of frailty. They soon the back hatch of the small 10 person merchant vessel opened slowly with the boarding party already scouring the ship. Seras stepped on. The darkness of the inside made it difficult to see even with implants. He switched on Night vision with the speed of thought. The other neophytes' positions were present on is HUD. Seras went to the bridge. He analysed the ship's main computer, searching for the history of the ship, and the circumstances it has been through.

"Seras,'' said a neophyte over coms. "i have found something."

Seras knew he could link directly to what The cyborg was seeing, but seeing it in the flesh, or flesh metal rather, pleased him.

Seras made his way to what apparently was the medical area. he stepped inside and found blood smeared on the walls and beds. What he later found was 3 humans. 3 exactly looking the same. the three were restrained on beds surrounded by pools of mysterious liquid. he looked up from something moving in the dark...

++End Feed++

All around the galaxy, news of plague strikes, not a plague that kills men and monster one that infects technology, weaseling its way into the core of all technology and rendering it innate. The people go mad and riots ensue, within months the galaxy is in violent bloody rebellion. What do you do?

Effect; all races with ANY technology cannot make attacks or movements for 1 week, (year). The dark age descends and barbarian-ism comes about. All races with ANY technology and a living race under their control must conquer rebellion in their own systems. No exceptions (1 week) year.

Vannasas sat indolently upon an ornate brass throne draped in extravagant crimson lace. Hundreds of thousands of burning candles in broken glass skulls illuminated the massive hall in dancing light as her bright eyes watched the approaching thralls reach the final steps of her ziggurat.

“Lady Ios.” They said breathlessly in unison, “We bring tribute,” dragging before them a shackled man, his brawn and handsome face dulled by the obvious bruises in his now submissive form.

Vannasas considered him for barely a moment before waving them forth with her dainty and cracked hand. She traced a wrinkle forming near her mouth, allowing it to crease as she began to smile.

“Come closer, Cel.” She purred, “I wish to see that handsome face.”

“Why am I not surprised you know my name?” Cel asked as he was thrust forward before the thralls.

“There is no Korzack man that escapes my vision, Cel.” Vannasas scorned playfully as her finger ran down the length of her neck. Her smile became genuine as she noticed Cel’s eyes dart to where her hand was daring to go, “Especially a Korzack renegade of the Kyov resistance, my enemy.”

“Your only enemy is free will, Ios.” Cel spat, “Or perhaps you haven’t noticed our returning influence in the region?”

Vannasas rose as she answered, ”Oh, I have,” her devilish grin framed by her quivering raven locks as her lithe legs swept her graciously forward in a black and red leather and lace dress. She touched Cel’s cheek, it withered and cracked at her touch, but the damage went unnoticed by Cel as she withdrew her hand and it faded back to its normal state.

“Then you would know that the Ios of Anterio has fallen by our hand,” Cel replied scathingly.

Vannassas lost her smile, as she searched for the Ios in her mind before finding a void where he should have been. Her heart sank even while she regained her composure, thankful she had been behind Cel as she recuperated to her supernatural grace as he blathered on,
“Assassinated upon his own throne, the crown of the Korzacks is up for the taking once again and the son’s of Kyov will take it now that that damnable AI, Kora, has gone offline by the digital plague.”

“You think Kora destroyed?” Vannasas asked curiously stopping directly in front of Cel.

Cel shrugged, “How could she survive against such an onslaught? No computer is safe, no digital form is immune to this virus. The Korzack nation is in the dark, and we carry the torch to set it ablaze. The prophet has spoken, we shall rise anew from the ashes of our own Empire, like a phoenix more powerful than before.”

“Kora may be offline, but I can assure you, she merely slumbers as the dragon’s wake. There will be no dawn for the phoenix so long as we breath our fire,” Vannasas snarled savagely, wrenching Cel off his feet by her titanic grip around his throat. He choked and turned red, then purple as the veins in his neck became visible, his skin grew ashen and gray where her hands had made contact, flaking off into oblivion as Cel fought desperately for air.

“I release you from my service, traitor to the Korzack cause.” Vannasas announced as she kissed Cel with her open mouth. Light sprang from inside Cel’s bloodshot eyes, and with a rushing of wind, a winding ball of energy shot from Cel into Vannasas. With a moaning sigh of ecstasy, she ripped his throat out of his neck and discarded him off the edge of her temple. His falling corpse disintegrated into a shower of dust as it fell until the cloud dissipated into nothingness. There came a loud clang as a glassy skull hit the ground and rolled to the awaiting feet of another thrall, who lit a candle in its splintered form and placed it among the others.

Turning away from the edge of her temple, Vannasas walked towards her awaiting thralls, the wrinkle of her face and her knotted fingers stitching themselves back to their perfect complexions.

“Your orders my lady?” the thrall asked from under his hood as he continued to kneel before her.

“Rise, children. Give word to the legions to depart to Aotearoa, we must dispatch this prophet and retake his holy land if we are to survive without Kora for the time being.” Vannasas ordered.

“And what shall you do my lady?” the thrall replied.

“There is a cancer in our ranks only my hand can mend. Allow me to my chambers, do not disturb me while I continue the investigation of this, prophet.”

“Could he be the same as before?” the thrall pressed.

Vannasas blinked, she was taken aback by the man’s knowledge of Korzack history,

“I have changed my mind. What is your name?”

“You honor me lady Ios.” The hooded man replied, “My lady asks for my name when she could reach into my mind and find it herself. It is Isaias. Your Isaias.”

“Come with me to my chambers.” Vannasas ordered softly, “The other shall take up your duty of mobilizing the legion. Now rise and join me, together we shall find this prophet.”

“You honor me my lady. I will go unto the netherverse if you would ask it of me.” Isaias replied.

“My chambers will do tonight Isaias.” Vannasas replied warmly as she touched his bare arm where a ritual scar was visible. His skin warmed as the scar faded away.

“And while there,” Vannasas whispered into the shade of the hood, “address me as Vannasas.”

Isaias woke among the listless veiled curtains of the monster four post bed. He slipped silently out from underneath their red drapes and onto the cold black granite floor.

His skin repulsed up to his neck in goosebumps as his bare feet connected with the frigid stone. He shivered quietly, approaching an unlit chalice and connected the Aetherflame pilot to the scented oil. The coils of potent liquid incense wafted up in short novas of bedazzling light, illuminating the hundreds of dangling blood orchids creeping from the walls and ceiling.

Isaias knelt and began his morning ritual. Letting out his blood with a small crescent shaped claw of a knife, or Kirvita, he prayed in silence as the droplets fell into the boiling oil. He sighed deeply, breathing in the heady fumes mingled with his blood and returned into him, rejuvenating him and healing his wound into a small scar.

He felt a warm hand trace the toughened skin delicately and felt the warmth spread across his naked back as Vanassas knelt behind to hold him, pressing her cheek against his and whispered,

"What do you see, priest?"

Isaias shut his eyes, the vision of the blooming universe reverberating in his mind's eye. The same bedazzling lights flickering faintly overhead burst in his mind, but he made no connection to her. The Great Mother remained silent.

"She slumbers, Lady Vanassas, deeper than I have ever seen."

Vanassas slumped slightly against Isaias's frame, he could tell the added girth of his hidden cybernetic skeleton was comforting her,

"And no word of the prophet?" Vanassas asked and Isaias nodded solemnly. She added worriedly, "But the legions are moving to Aotearoa, correct?"

"Yes, my Lady." Isaias replied earnestly.

"Then you must go with them." Vanassas replied with confidence, "The nations of this galaxy are on the move and without Kora back online, the Prophet will be able to destabilize our entire region in less than three days if he has truly risen. You must find him and banish him back beneath the planet's surface while I wake Kora."

"How will I find him?" Isaias said, rising and not daring to turn to face her as he adorned his sleeveless robes.

"You won't." Vanassas replied solemnly.

Isaias couldn't help but turn his head back to her, her nude body was coiled in the slowly gathering pedals of blood orchids as she looked back to him in frank sorrow,

"He will find you."

Isaias bowed his head in departure, then he left her temple and began to descend the thirteen hundred worn steps of the ziggurat, alone and afraid of his quest.

Be not afraid, chosen, I am watching you.

Vanassas's voice echoed reassuringly in his head as Isaias reached the bottom of the ziggurat and stepped over the threshold of the great door to her sanctum. He looked to the black clad Ios Arbiters, their soulless eyes, empty, unfeeling, and unflinching beneath the heartless orange fire of Zenak as they stood in eternally silent vigil with their unspeakable rifles in hand. Isaias saw himself among them, an unwanted vision he pushed away with a cold shiver, and replied in thought to the Orchid Mistress,

I know.