Kallan'Muya System - 'Call to Arms'

[EyesofMarch]

A female voice picks up through the silence that resonates throughout the Kallan'Muya System. Inhabited only by the Kals after the other races eviction from the solar system, the Grand Council station, the world of Hallo'Wai, have gone dark. Until now. The voice make take a few moments to understand, as it is in Kal'Bavakorian.

"While the Grand Council Station may be refugee center for my people now.. This, I wish to change. For many cycles, my people have remained within' this planetary system, forced to ignore our god, ignore the ways of life we always wished to live. My people have lost so much these last few months.. Billions dead, because our Empress was unprepared. Worlds lost; spouses dead, children burned into the very heavens of our skies...

We require change. We see your freedom, your way of life, humans. We desire it; we /Crave/ it. Your understanding nature, your widsom, Leader of People... We require it. Have your President, your Leader, or any officials that may be able to arrive.. Come to the once-was Grand Council chamber. Meet me within' the Kasvan'Snua.. Or, in English, the Kasynva Nightclub. There, we shall speak of a new future for this galaxy.

May the Water Goddess guide your trek across the stars."

[Hades]

It took many hours for any response to come from the United Systems, but eventually, a lone gunship jumped into the system. It didn't seem to have any escort with it, although long-range scans might pick up a squadron of B-2 Supertalon Strategic Bombers armed with short-range ISBMs; if the USC couldn't jump a fighter squadron in to defend the envoy, they would just jump in a giant flashing sign that no attacks would be tolerated. The bombers kept their distance, broadcasting a wide-area "DO NOT APPROACH" signal.

A message was sent from the gunship as it approached the station, keeping its weapons activated and its FTL drive spun up.

+"Kallan'Muya Station, this is Sanctuary Raptor one-one-six-zero. We are carrying a representative as per your request. Requesting permission to dock."+

[EyesofMarch]

++-"Roger Sanctuary Raptor, we have received your message. We-...'-++

The message, after it is translated from Kal'Bavakorian into English, would be interrupted by the sound of a wracking coughing noise, followed by a snorting sound of unimaginable annoyance. The male Kal'Bavakorian on the other side of the communication is clearly ill from some unknown disease; a possible reason for this sudden communication, perhaps. Nonetheless, the Kal'Bavakorian male picks up after a few more moments of weakness, his voice raspy and sickly.

++-'..We are sending you information for a landing sequence. Welcome to.. The government center of the Alliance of Free Kals. Please watch for refugee craft for the time being, as space around the Council Station is rather crowded. The Minister of Governance will be waiting for you within' the Kasynva Nightclub. May the Goddess guide you through the night.'-++

The message cuts off there. The Alliance of Free Kals.. Certainly not a member of the System Republic. Nonetheless, the once-was Council Station, spherical and somewhat ill-maintained, hangs silently over the terran world of Hallo'Wai; almost inviting to the USC forces that have just warped into the area. This 'Alliance of Free Kals' has no fleet to speak of, spare a few SS-9 'Super Intercetors' that can be seen patrolling the space around the station, as well as Hallo'Wai. Around the Council Station, though, there is a massive buildup of Kal'Bavakorian civilian and transport craft. Ranging from tiny, family sized craft to massive transports, there are almost too many ships to count. The organic-looking craft clearly have crowded around the station, or are being motioned down towards the planet below.. It is clear there is a large issue at hand. The Council Station defenses are still online, and although the large plasma and turbolaser batteries are still online, they do not take a defensive aim at the incoming human dropship. Instead, the USC is privy to the opening of one of the stations many docking ports reserved for special personnel.

Should the Raptor attempt to make it's way towards the station, a gravity tractor will suddenly activate upon the docking ports sides, grasping hold of the human ship like so many other Kal'Bavakorian craft do to boarding ships. The Raptor would slowly be pulled inwards towards the station, passing through the atmospheric shield before being deposited gently inside of the ship and being secured by magnetic barriers, which clamp down upon the craft...

The familiar sights of the Kal'Bavakorian designed hanger bay, with organic and metallic walls, rocky enclosures, and even grass and a subtle waterfall and pool along one side of the hangers wall... Although the lack of water dripping from the water fall above seems to show a problem with plumbing. All seems normal for the moment, although no Kals have yet entered the hanger to greet the humans.

[Hades]

A few power-armoured humans stepped out of the dropship, without an accompanying diplomat. A quick visual inspection would reveal that the marines carried heavy-duty fifty caliber battle rifles, and were holding full combat formation during their entry into the station; the highest ranked one was a First Lieutenant, and he too was clad in armor and armed with weapons meant to destroy tanks. A few of the humans stayed behind to guard the gunship, while the rest started moving out towards the indicated meeting point: Kasynva Nightclub. They would appear to be more or less uncaring for their surroundings, and focused simply on the task of going from point A to point B.

[EyesofMarch]

Upon the human soldiers setting down inside the former Council Station, a clear change would be visible. The air is cold and humid, as needed by Kals, and the gravity seems to have doubled in strength for their need. The humans had set down in the military sector of the Council Station it would appear, for as soon as they set foot outside of the large docking center, they would come face to face with a large, windowed sector close to the edge of the station's outer hull.

Within' the confines of the station, the humans would come to see the damage that took place in their absence. The hallways towards other sections of the craft, visible from this central tram point within' the station, are full of blackened holes of blaster damage, or torn apart with wires hanging out; sparking or releasing a strange, black blood-like ooze. Refugees, some dressed in rags and others in enviro-suits, are lined up against the walls of these hallways, which have been blocked off by new Kal'Bavakorian soldiers in strange, not-as-advanced-as-Republic armor. Food is being passed out by these Kal soldiers, although it is very clear there is not enough to go around as a few fights start in the distant corridors of these hallways, only to be put down by a group of these 'Alliance' soldiers. The hungry, injured Kals are continuously herded into the hallways in an attempt to get them away from this central tram center, and hopelessness is clear in the airl. Holo-signs have been replaced with paper, massive boxes lay empty with their supplies ran out, and even a few bodies lay within the tram command center, with white towels hanging over the small forms of their bodies.

It is clear this new group of Kals is underfunded, lacking supplies.. And in serious trouble. It can only be assumed that this madness is spread throughout the station.

Before the humans could get a very detailed look at this madness, their group of soldiers would suddenly be rushed by a group of short, yet quick and agile, Kal soldiers. Rushing from the sides of the newly opened docking bay exit, these soldiers, numbering at about ten, would quickly rush before the humans. One of these soldiers, dressed in rugged, supposedly white armor which had been colored a soft red color, steps forward. The glow of this clearly female Kal's eyes are bright behind the T-shaped visor of her helmet, and as she stares upwards at the human soldiers, her plasma rifle somewhat hanging upwards at them, it is clear she is very exhausted. Quickly, she speaks, and her words are translated perfectly into English for human ears.

"..Humans.. I am Overseer Sergeant Kaspha'Yao.. I've been ordered to take you by tram to the nightclub command centre. The Mistress of Governance will be awaiting you there.."

She pauses for a moment, as if to take a deep, shaky breath, before she quickly snaps her head in the direction of the grav tram not so far away.

"Come.. Time is of the essence.."

[Hades]

The USC troops seemed moderately uncaring for the sudden intrusion by the Kal'Bavakorian soldiers, and they nodded their heads in unison after the Overseer Sergeant stated his objective. They followed the group, keeping their battle rifles ready and with the safeties off: no chances would be taken this time. None of them seemed willing to talk either; they remained silent, not even speaking between themselves.

[EyesofMarch]

// I'll post on this soon.. I've been so damned busy I haven't even been able to check out the site.

[EyesofMarch]

Wordlessly, the group of human USC soldiers and their Kal'Bavakorian counterparts enter the recently arrived grav tram. The hardlight doors seal quickly behind the USC soldiers as they enter, cutting off the sounds of heavy contruction, shifty repairing, and the sound of squealing and pained cries; the sound of suffering Kal'Bavakorian refugees, in the Arrival District. As quickly as the tram had arrived, it departed; starting off quickly down the pre-set railings towards it's destination in the Entertainment District. A new addition to the station after the eviction of the Council Races, the Entertainment District appeared on a holo-map within' the center of the rather large tram, the emitter mixing quite evenly within' the strange, organic architecture of the tram's passenger section. While the tram was indeed a strange and alien device, it kept basic amenities like seats and food dispensers, although many of the food dispensers were clearly damaged or deactivated, and the seats were much too small for the human occupants of the craft.

As the tram continued on it's way, with most of the short, weakly equipped Kal'Bavakorian guards within' sitting quietly, with only the Overseer Sergeant standing, the tram would suddenly bounce rather harshly. While the Kals seemed disturbed by it, they also appeared rather used to it. With a silent, bubbly sigh, the female Overseer Sergeant would cast her glowing eyes towards the window of the grav tram, her helmet's visor hiding her dismayed face. If one was to follow her gaze, they could come to see that the side of the tram railway had been blown apart by what appears to have been starship cannons; leaving this section of the tramway open to space itself. Visible outside were multiple pristine looking starcraft that had been parked in the depths of space. They were being repaired and outfitted by Kal'Bavakorian engineers and metallic OI units, though by the way they appeared, it seems these ships were newly designed; prototype craft. Also interesting was the lack of slave labor, replaced now by OI units and volunteers.. It is now clear, if one was not foolish, that these people were not of System Republic allegiance.

"They attacked us after the Mistress of Governance declared Hallo'Wai independant of the Systems Republic.. Not with much, since our forces had been decimated by the Alarei, but.. It was enough. We don't have the supplies to last much longer."

This was spoken by the Overseer Sergeant, her bubbly, feminine squaks filling her speakers, and making it simple to translate her words into human English. With a simple shake of her head, she went silent again.

The tram continued onwards, now safely back in the confines of the station's atmospheric controls.

[EyesofMarch]

Council Station; Kallan'Muya System

A high frequency message is sent out from the station, rebounding throughout the surrounding planetary systems. The message is relayed in languages involving Human English and Kal'Bavakorian. The voice of the message comes in a feminine, yet tough tone; serious, yet calm. The voice is clearly urgent, though, and it makes good use to listen to such a message.

++-'Anyone.. Human, or not.. We require assistance. We cannot extend our names quite yet... But we require assistance by anyone willing to help another race end the twilight of a painful generation, and begin anew. We fight for our future as a species; for our future as a nation, and for our future as a united galaxy. If you are able to assist my people in a fight for a new beginning, please, send a spacecraft and a small envoy to the coordinates of this message.. We wish no harm.'-++

[Hades]

The group of humans seemed to be paying very close attention to their surroundings, though they showed no reaction to them; evidently, the scars of battle that the station had been marked with served as nothing more than a piece of strategic information for them to relay back to their superiors at the earliest possible opportunity. But then again, they were not doing it out of spite, or hate towards the Kal'Bavakorians. They were simply physically incapable of expressing sympathy over their plight; they were androids. Part of the older line of humanoid endoskeletons, the drones had no artificial skin, or eyes, or anything of the short. They were pure automatons, controlled by a rather simplistic artificial intelligence that took over when there was no human operator controlling them remotely. The thick power armor and the metal helmet were enough to hide their true nature, however. The human operators simply watched through the data link the drones maintained over tachyon channels.

But why would the USC send drones instead of real negotiators? What purpose did they serve? The answer to these questions were simple: fear. Fear and paranoia. In the event that the entire situation happened to be a trap, the United Systems could always turn the robots to their combat mode, allowing them to cause severe damage to the station using their heavy weapons. They would also serve as beacons for a nuclear salvo on behalf of the ISBMs, if any had to be utilized, and in the terrible scenario that it failed, they could always self destruct with no moral qualms; they were the perfect representatives for the United Systems.

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