Facehuggerian Civil War part I [BETA]

[Central Facehuggeria]

I've recently been beta-reading someone else's story on a non-NS board, and in so doing I've realized just how helpful it is. Ergo, to ensure quality I plan to post any of my posts telling the story of the imminent Facehuggerian Civil War here before introducing them to NS at large. To that end, I'd appreciate comments and questions if anything is unclear. Thanks.

So, without further adieu, I give you the first (roughly) quarter of the opening post of the Facehuggerian Civil War. "Setting the Board"

***

“You know I don’t like doing this, Centurion, but the law is the law.” With that, Clone Centurion KZ-1093A was led past a set of ornately engraved blast does tens of meters thick, into the Cathedral of Freeman aboard ISV Trinity.

Inside, it was every bit as marvelous as all the old tales tell. The walls were sheathed in mahogany and warpwood, infused with silver and precious gems. Opterran Water-opals and Gehennan hellstones glinted mysteriously in the torchlight. -Unlike the rest of the ship, the cathedral was lit solely by torches, in deference to God and Freeman.

A great golden-orange statue tens of meters high dominated the edifice. Freeman himself, carefully reproduced in a priceless orange-shaded form of synthetic gold. He, clad in his HEV suit, and with his crowbar held high, stood poised to welcome newcomers to his temple. It was breathtaking, and KZ-1093A, Kaz to those closest to him, couldn’t help but weep as he gazed upon it for what was quite likely the last time.

“Please, Brother,” He said to his jailor. “May I receive the Lord’s blessing one last time?”

His jailor, another Clone Trooper, paused in thought. Kaz didn’t know him, but they all shared an unspoken bond. They were brothers in arms. Surely he would grant a doomed Centurion’s last request? “Do not tarry. The Tribunal will not tolerate delay.”

Kaz nodded, and, giving his thanks, knelt down in front of the statue. “O Freeman, hear my prayer. Steal away my soul into your holy Brmf, for I have ever lived and died by your teachings...”

“Why did you do it, Kaz? We were going to the Coliseum for Empire day, remember? But then you go and do something like this. Why?” An enchanting yet mournful female voice called out from behind him. He knew it well. Nia was, after all, the closest thing he had to a mate. She was a Centurion in the Opterran 4th legion just as he was. They’d met under fire on the plains of Gehenna, putting down a Wookie slave revolt, and it had been love at first sight. If there was one thing that could make him wonder if he did the one thing, seeing Nia standing there, crying softly, was it.

“Nia… I couldn’t just powergun down women and children in the street.” He replied, not daring to look into her eyes, as green as the emeralds that adorned Freeman’s statue. He knew that if he did, he would falter. He would do anything to stay with her. He knew that if he took just one look at her eyes, he’d fall to his knees and beg the Tribunal for salvation. He couldn’t do that. Either he died, or his principles died. Without the latter, he knew that he would be but a shell of what he once was.

“Look at me, you fucker! Look right into my eyes and tell me why you did it!” She demanded, grasping his chin and wrenching it upward. Those eyes…

“I… I could not butcher innocent women and children!” Kaz yelled back. Nia visibly flinched.

“I thought we had something, Kaz. I really did. I see now how wrong I was.” She replied, turning and walking away.

“Nia, wait!” Kaz yelled back.

“Sorry, Centurion, but you time’s up. Come with me.” His Jailor barked, hauling Kaz up by the chains around his neck.

Deep within the cathedral lay the Temple of Corrections, wherein the highest crimes were weighed upon by the ship’s tribunal. Unlike the rest of the cathedral, the Temple of Corrections was constructed entirely of marble harvested from quarries on Facehuggeria Majoris, the birthplace of all Facehuggerians. At the door to the temple stood the statue of an ancient, Pre-Freeman deity. A golden woman clad in a flowing toga with a blade, and an archaic measuring device known as a ‘scale.’ What had always confused Kaz, though, was that she was blindfolded. How was she supposed to do anything if she couldn’t see?

The interior of the Temple was deceptively small and empty. There simply stood three podiums upon a raised dais. Besides for himself and the three Tribunal members behind each podium, the Temple was as dead as a tomb.

The ship’s ranking CO, Star-General Tanthius, at present, stood at the tribunal’s head. The ship herself, Trinity, stood to his side, represented by hologram. The final tribunal member, Legion-Commander Kouras stood at Tanthius’ other side.

“Centurion KZ-1093A, do you say anything in your defense?” Tanthius’ voice boomed out, reverberating off the marble walls. It was almost as though they were designed and shaped for that purpose.

“I did what I thought was right.”

“Let the great record state that Centurion KZ-1093 violated Imperial edict and refused lawful orders to terminate a band of Elf raiders.” Tanthius said, with a hint of sadness in his voice. “His response? ‘I did what I thought was right.’”

“They were refugees!” Kaz interrupted.

“The accused shall be silent!” Kouras said, fixing Kaz with an icy glare.

“Be that as it may, that is not the issue here. The issue here is insubordination. Surely this does not merit death?” Trinity said with the sort of calm tone that only a machine can pull off.

“Only death will restore his honor!” Kouras shot back.

“Enough!” Tanthius said, his voice even louder. “Trinity, you vote for life and a return to service, with no penalty. No harm no foul?”

“Yes, General.” The AI replied, bowing slightly.

“And you, Legion-Commander, call for immediate execution?”

“Yes, My Lord.” Kouras replied.

“It seems as though mine is the deciding vote.” Tanthius said finally. “It is true that the punishment for treason is death. However, the Centurion has given a lifetime in service to the Imperium and Emperor. I would be remiss in my duties as the Emperor’s representative on this ship to ignore that. Thus, I grant Centurion KZ-1093A his life. And, more importantly, his freedom.”

“Sir… I protest!” Kouras said, stepping out of line for a moment, but obviously caught in the heat of the moment.

“I am not finished, Legion-Commander. Now, while his service earns him life, I cannot overlook his transgression. Thus, Centurion, for your insubordination, you are henceforth banished from the Human Imperium until the end of your days. You have six hours to gather your essentials and say farewell to your battle brothers, but then you will depart. However, before you do, I would like a word with you.” Tanthius continued.

Exile? Kaz’s face turned several shades whiter at the thought. Death he could accept… but to be separated forever from his family and those that he cared about? To be away from ‘Sha and ‘Barnie and ‘Zerk? To never see Nia again?

“Sir?” Trinity asked with a curious tone.

“You heard me. Stop monitoring the Temple of Correction. As for you… Legion-Commander, you are dismissed. Report back to your men. Consider both of these direct orders.” Tanthius replied.

Kouras didn’t even grumble as he filed out of the temple, though Kaz knew him well enough that he must be seething underneath the façade of a deferent military officer. Trinity, for her part, simply winked off.

“You did the right thing, Centurion.” Tanthius said when they were alone. “It’s a hard thing to go against your training and listen to your morals. But you did the right thing.”

“It doesn’t feel like it from where I’m sitting, sir. The woman I love just left me because of my morals. I’ll never see my squad, my brothers and sisters again because of my morals.” Kaz replied, looking downward, towards Tanthius’ boots. “It hardly seems worth the sacrifice.”

“Let me tell you something, soldier. Without our morals, we’re nothing more than perverse beasts. This is something I think our Empire has forgotten. Either way, men have given their lives honorably and gladly for their beliefs throughout the breadth of human history. Be grateful that you have not been forced to go that far.” Tanthius replied.

“What am I supposed to do, sir? The Legion was my life and my family. Without them…” Kaz replied.

“You’re looking for a purpose in life, is that it?” Tanthius chuckled to himself, as if laughing at some private joke. “Very well. I think you’re a good man, so I’ll let you in on a little secret.” Go to the world of Arcadia and find a man who goes by the name ’Uncle Abe.’ He will help you.”

“Arcadia, sir? Aren’t I exiled from there?” Kaz asked.

“Yes… but not for six hours. I’d suggest you get your affairs in order quickly.” Tanthius replied.

Kaz, for his part, knew he didn’t really have a choice. It was either that, or try to make his way in a hostile universe without aid. There was one thing that he had to do first, however. He had to say goodbye to Nia.

Fortunately, he caught her just as she was about to go back into stasis for storage and mental combat training until she, and the rest of the legion was needed.

“What do you want?” Nia demanded. Kaz had to admit that even angry, she still turned him on.

“I’m here to say goodbye.” Kaz replied.

“You’ve changed, Kaz. And it’s not a good change, either. You’re not the same man I fell in love with. Just leave. Go live on some Podunk moon somewhere and never show your face again. And don’t bother trying to find me.” Nia replied, turning away from him.

“I love you, Nia. I will always love you.” Kaz said softly, before clasping his heart to his breast and adding “Stand or Die, Nia.”

Kaz never saw the tear etch its way down her cheek as she replied, still facing away, “Stand or Die, Kaz…”

***


It felt like a good day, fresh and full of the potential for change. It seemed to General Marcus a new beginning, this anniversary. It was, after all, the ten thousand and one hundred sixty sixth year to the day since the writ of Empire. Marcus sighed. He remembered that day, if not those that followed it, fondly…

The Vaaish were finally beaten; after years of cruel enslavement and experimentation, his people were free. What remained of the Facehuggerian fleet, led by Admiral William Halsey, had valiantly fought through the Vaaish swarm-fleet and had dropped fresh reinforcements to help mop up the alien scum on the ground.

The past years had been rough on Marcus’ guerilla fighters. -The Vaaish had hunted them relentlessly, and what was once a distributed network of thousands of individual cells had been trimmed to less than a hundred people. Food was always a luxury. And clean water? That was practically a gift from heaven. -About the only thing they had in abundance was bullets.

But that was in the past. At the time, Marcus couldn’t help but look to the future. -The Admiral was standing on a rickety pre-Vaaish podium that had been salvaged from god only knew where. All around him were gathered the surviving resistance fighters, along with the fresh soldiers from the fleet. Marcus had chuckled at the contrast. Skinny men and women, little more than bones really, in rags for clothes and hefting dirty, ugly guns looked at the admiral with distant, war-weary looks. They stood side by side with fresh-faced naval troopers, clad in power armor, with sleek and immaculately kept thirty millimeter auto cannons shining in the sun, as if brand new. Everyone waited for the admiral to speak.

“We came back for you!” Halsey exclaimed. “We don’t abandon our own!”

This was the last day that Marcus dared feel hope for the future.

“We’ve all lost people we care about. But while we will mourn them, they would want us to get on with our lives, to rebuild our homes, and plant the seeds of our future. But none of this matters if we cannot defend ourselves.

It is time to put aside our petty differences; of race and ideology and the like and say in one clear and terrible voice ’never again!’ We will not suffer enslavement under the boot of alien species evermore! Even unto the breaking of the world.”

Halsey had to practically slap down the applause before continuing. “From this day forward, let no Facehuggerian make war upon another Facehuggerian. Let no man consort with alien species who wish us ill. And let no man conspire against our new beginning. From this day forward, we are no mere nation state. We are an empire of the ages; forged from one voice and one will. Never again!”

But it had all changed so quickly, hadn’t it? Marcus wondered if the signs were visible even then. It seemed as though it took mere days for the Empire’s noble purpose to be perverted. What was to be a defensive covenant had changed practically over night into a vicious and genocidal war machine. They launched crusade after crusade, setting whole worlds to the torch. Whole races were exterminated for no reason greater than their circumstances of birth.

Not long after that, the slavery started.

That was what Marcus hated most. He’d seen the slave camps of the Vaaish. He’d seen the slave camps of the Empire. The only true difference was that human overseers had replaced Vaaish ones. His people had truly fallen far.

Perhaps that was why he avoided the arena, so that he might not have the last of his faith in his people torn asunder. This foundation day was different, though. For his military victories, and to commemorate his assignment back to the dreadnought Trinity, he was to sit at the Emperor’s side in the royal box overlooking the blood-stained arena proper. It was supposed to be an honor. But Marcus hardly felt it. He knew that Halsey was just doing it out of cruelty. The man thought that Marcus was, ‘soft,’ in his own words. The bastard.

But there was one spot in the dismal picture: He was engaged to meet his friend, Tanthius, at their usual spot, a quiet little café within the thumping heart of the imperial capital. He had no inkling of why Tanthius had requested the meeting, but the subtle tone in his voice suggested that it was important.

The café was even emptier than usual. -All the usual patrons, even the maladjusted midget who always drank his coffee in silence, were probably at the arena for the festivities. Rumor had it that a mighty elf general had been captured, and that his execution was to be the main event.

If Lina, the Café’s serving slave, cared that one of her kind was being executed, she gave no sign of it.

“Hello, Lina.” Marcus said with a smile. Lina, as always, dared not look up. She’d been utterly broken by her previous master, a cruel and now fortunately deceased planetary governor of one of the border worlds; killed by the very ’aliens’ he took so much glee in oppressing, if rumor was true.

“Lina, have you seen Tee anywhere?” Marcus asked. In public, Marcus and Tanthius never referred to themselves by their names. -They were, after all, widely known ones amongst the Imperial hierarchy, and it was best to avoid attention, lest a controversial view slip out.

“Booth four.” Lina replied, trembling slightly. “He was waiting for you. Master Benjamin is out back, should I fetch him for you sir?”

“No, that won’t be necessary. Wouldn’t want to disturb him. And please, stop calling me sir. I get that enough at work.” Marcus replied, smiling. He felt sorry for the girl, really he did. But he didn’t know how to deal with something like that. Losing a friend, he could handle. Consoling troops, he could handle that too. But dealing with the FUBARed emotional landscape of a girl who’d been used as a worthless cum rag for only God knew how long? That was well beyond his abilities.

“Mark! I thought I heard your scruffy voice! Come over here and talk to your buddy!” He heard Tee’s voice call out, over from the fourth booth. It was an act, of course, meant to fool any casual onlookers. After all, who would expect two of the most powerful people in the empire to be so casual? All the propaganda painted them as so dreadfully serious men, driven only by their need to serve the Empire. Yeah right.

Marcus stepped into the booth. It was well chosen, with good visibility to the door and the street outside, with an eye towards invisibility from the other side. They’d see anyone coming long before the intruders saw them. In theory.

His friend was there, naturally, but there was someone else, too. It looked like the sapphire-haired girl from Trinity’s changing of the blade ceremony, the one who had clung to Tanthius as if her life depended on it. Now, though, she was the very essence of calm beauty, like a Librarian in that sense. All she needed to complete the look was the stereotypical set of wide-rimmed glasses. Still, there were subtle cues. An almost imperceptible twitch of her lips

“I see you brought company, old friend.” Marcus said as he sat down.

“Of course. I promised her I wouldn’t leave her side, and I intend to keep my word.” Tanthius replied, smiling. “So, how’s Trinity been? Still slaughtering foes in the Emperor’s name?”

Marcus shrugged. “She’s fine. The crew misses you, but everyone knew it was just a temporary assignment. I gather you made quite an impression. So, what did you really call me here for? Surely not to ”

“Our people have suffered tyranny long enough, don’t you think?” Tanthius asked idly.

“So that’s it? You’ve become disillusioned? You remember how it was in the beginning. We’ve made great strides since then. Great strides.” Marcus replied. “With more time, we’ll be able to turn the Empire into what it was meant to be. Your father will come around, I know he will. He’s already banned the slave trade and put a stop to the crusades. Tell me that isn‘t progress.”

“Marcus, we’ve been waiting for him to ‘come around’ for the past ten millennia. It is time to stop waiting and start acting.” Tanthius replied. His voice took on a coldness that almost made Marcus shudder.

“Are you suggesting…?” Marcus asked. Tanthius merely nodded. “Old friend… what you’re proposing it is madness. Treason…”

“I know, but… I see no way forward from here. I thought you‘d understand.” Tanthius responded, a huge frown gracing his face.

“But killing the Emperor?” Marcus replied, aghast.

“He’s lowered his guard, thinking himself immortal. He’s vulnerable, Marcus. I am the next in line for succession if he dies…”

“He’s your own father, Michael! Didn‘t you learn anything I taught you?” Marcus yelled back. But his friend hadn’t been ‘Michael’ for a long, long time.

“I have already put everything into place.” Tanthius replied quietly, turning away.

“And what of Murphy? What happens when he smiles and breaks your pretty little plan? Civil war! A war of annihilation! There won’t be anyone left to be free or oppressed, they’ll all be dead!”

“It won’t come to that. My plan is foolproof. Halsey will show up in his armor… which I have sabotaged. It would take an act of God himself to save him.”

“You sick bastard… I will have no part of this.” Marcus replied, getting up. “I think we’re done here.”

“Wait.” It wasn’t Tanthius who said that, it was the blue haired beauty. “There is an inquisitorial strike team on its way. You don’t want to be implicated by leaving the scene beforehand. At least see the state you serve as we see it.”

“Please, old friend…” Tanthius added.

“Very well.” Marcus replied. “But only because I owe you.”

“Nobody expects the inquisition!” A new voice yelled as the café door exploded in a shower of sparks and jagged glassy shrapnel. The voice of Lord Inquisitor Marcharian; one of the most influential figures in the Empire’s foremost secret police force.

“Right on time.” Tanthius muttered. “Ahh! Inquisitor, you are expected. Please, join us.”

“Everyone here has been found guilty of treason against the Emperor!” Marcharian replied. If he was angry that he’d been preempted, he gave no sign of it.

“Indeed? What are our charges, Inquisitor?” Tanthius replied. He was certainly being cavalier about the whole situation. The Emperor’s Inquisition had the authority to arrest anyone, from the lowliest private to even a Star-General himself. A rather amusing check on the Immortal Brotherhood’s power.

“You know very well, traitor. Now, you can either come with me to see your father, or I kill you here. Your choice.” Marcharian replied, a small powergun erupting from his holster in a flash of gunmetal gray.

“See what it is you serve, Marcus? The Inquisition is given authority to kill anyone, even two people having a friendly chat over a cup of coffee, guilty of no crime greater than voicing a controversial opinion.” Tanthius replied, smiling.

“Come with me. Now.” Marcharian demanded. His powergun stiffened in his hand. It looked like he was going to fire.

“I don’t think so. Alyssa, be a dear and kill him.” Tanthius replied with his same nonchalance. How was he so calm about this? Marcharian was a brute, but an intelligent brute. He’d have already scanned the three of them and determined if they were armed. How was that wisp of a girl supposed to deal with a battle-trained Inquisitor like Marcharian unarmed?

Alyssa frowned. Her eyes took on an even more blatantly blue tint as she rose her hand, as if to dismiss an unruly child.

“A psyker? Your kind is rare amongst us.” The Inquisitor replied. “I’m surprised you aren’t out already. Most fail to remain conscious, let alone sane in a Facehuggerian’s presence. Regardless, you will find that your foul abilities are quite impotent here.”

Alyssa, for her part, remained silent. A single beat of sweat beaded down her head, and she was obviously concentrating heavily on something. Her eyes had a far off look, like she was staring off into space.

“*Nnngh*” The Inquisitor grunted in response, grinding his teeth. “Get out-”

He never finished; instead, the final sound he made was a sort of startled squish, like what Marcus presumed a rat stuffed in a microwave would sound like. A faint scent of ozone filled the air, but the most spectacular thing was Marcharian’s head. It grew slightly, sweat beading down his face in great rivers before, quite unexpectedly, it popped like an overgrown pimple.

Torrents of blood and bits of brain, along with the occasional jagged chunk of half-broken bone flew outwards, threatening to splash and impale anyone unfortunate enough to be nearby. Oddly, though, the bone shards which would have hit someone seemed to stop in mid air before simply clattering to the ground harmlessly.

“Aly… did you have to be so messy about it?” Tanthius asked finally, his white shirt now simply coated with blood stains. “You know how hard it is to get blood out of this shirt.”

“Yes. He was stronger than I anticipated.” The sapphire haired woman replied finally, though she looked sad. “You know I don’t like doing that.”

“You’ve changed. And I fear it hasn’t been for the good.” Marcus said sadly, getting up to leave. “You aren’t the same man I trained and fought beside, so long ago. Miss Alyssa, I hope you can heal whatever dire wound has caused this. Good day. Oh, and Michael? Don‘t bother calling on me again. I won‘t answer.”

[Metallinauts]

Is this going to be a closed RP?

[Sskiss]

Great stuff as usual, CF. I can't add anything really. I'd like to eventually join in as a specific character assuming this is a character based RP. Take your time crafting this.

[Central Facehuggeria]

Is this going to be a closed RP?

No. Characters and participants are welcome. Though, the main arena for characters will be the first and last parts, respectively. The middle two will be primarily war, though told by certain characters. Kaz, Tanthius, Alyssa, Marcus, amongst others.

Great stuff as usual, CF. I can't add anything really. I'd like to eventually join in as a specific character assuming this is a character based RP.

Certainly. Tell me about the character and I could work him or her into the plot.

Take your time crafting this.

I plan to. The war probably won't start for a week or two yet. Though, ironically, I have more time for writing when I'm at school as opposed to at home.

[Metallinauts]

Cool. Also would you mind if I use your civil war to put my newer Metallinauts on the ESUS map? As in they aren't IC members but become members after the new CF government sees how honorably the very young race fought against obviously stacked odds?

[Central Facehuggeria]

Well, you could do so... but there won't exactly be a new CF government per se. The closest would probably what remains of the Republic (A paltry one world), but they won't be in a position to vouch for anyone on account of martial prowess. -They're going to be so turned off by the war that they refuse to have any part in armed conflict, or to endorse those that do. (Though that won't prevent them from manipulating any other survivors of the Facehuggerian Empire into killing each other, because the Republic will be comprised of hypocritical twats after Tanthius gets tossed out.)

The only Facehuggerian group who you could get such an endorsement from would be the Odon Network, but they're going to be rather hard to find after teleporting their whole system into the void between galaxies soon into the war.

However, I'm sure there's other ESUS members you could get an endorsement from. -Surely a lot of people must be itching at the reins to help the stereotypically evil Facehuggerian Empire consume itself. I can't imagine that Arenumbergian/Ile Sorne elves would pass at the chance to eliminate a group which holds kindred of theirs enslaved.

[Metallinauts]

I am not looking to be.... how you see me now. Imagine a completely hell bent on extermination of non-humanoids version of Metallinauts minus temporal power. So needless to say I am siding with the genocidal side of your war.

[Central Facehuggeria]

Oh. I see. Well, as I said, there's not going to be a cohesive Facehuggerian empire left standing at the end, so they won't really be able to vouch for you.

[Metallinauts]

Well hopefully other ESUSers will be involved so my "reputation" will spread. Other wise I am still in and thanks anyways for tying to help.

[Torontonias]

If I can get my act together I'd love to join in to CF. I'd have to be a reserve though because I don't know how Crazy my next two weeks are, and I don't know if I can get that creativity going after my stalled RP with Megas fell through the cracks.

But I'll let you know, consider this a placeholder for now.

Since not only would the Corpirates be wanting a piece of the rapidly destabilizing Facehuggerian market share (With the Monopoly Opportunities when the dust settles no doubt!) but the Torontonian Government would probably send a "Grudge Unit" of the TSDC that would be off the record to help the Rebels.