|Viraliv|[20-14]Sliue-Ececs|Ora’s Eye|Tepi|Tepi-3|
11,163,955,738cy
Terraformer Station ‘Favala’, Low Tepi-3 Orbit
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Simiffin was sitting quietly in his seat, a contrast to the storm-like environment he currently finds himself in. The day after the second meeting with the Enigmatic faction this conference was set up to discuss their proposed terms. Naturally consisting of the head officers and the members of the Advisory Council. The topic of the conversation was rather to implement a political party, representative party, or no party system. This is something that they would have had to discuss regardless due to the planned election for the colonial government. The Enigmatic faction only adds extra stress to the issue.
Having no official political parties certainly has its advantages, namely that the people won’t be split along political extremes fueled by those parties. However the conference seems to be leaning in the favor of full parties or representative ones. Of course, a mixed system could happen whereby if you have enough voters your party would become a party with all privileges and if it gets minimal votes then you become a representative. The conditions on how many votes you would need would have to be decided upon but the Enigmatic faction would likely have no problem with such a solution. One of the major downsides to this, besides the bureaucratic scuffle they’d have to go through, would be if parties lose their privileges meaning that their voting base would have to move to another, different party that might not represent their beliefs. Although this would bismerch the face of the democracy that Simiffin would like to cultivate, it’s not too bad of a solution.
Afterall if they lost enough voters to longer be above the required conditions for a fully-privileged party than that just represents that their beliefs aren’t what the people want. Simiffin simply wants the future of this planet to be held by the people, the exact system in how that works doesn’t matter to him. As such, he’s never really thought about which solution would be more democratic. This indecision is the cause of furious fight amongst those at the meeting. Each arguing for their own vision of a democratic future, even if some of them don’t believe democracy to be the right choice. Many of the people present have had their ego’s shattered after a suggestion of theirs was almost immediately shot down. Such as letting the people decide, shot down due to the current turbulence in the colony. Others would be more specific set-ups for political parties or how the election will be decided.
The meeting drew long into the night, well not quite night since they’re on a space station. They judge their nights and days using artificial lighting on the station linked to the Tarmon homeworld. Of course, the other species have to adapt to that same cycle. Regardless, they’ve made virtually no progress and are at a standstill. Simiffin has been developing a habit to go to Shanak’Ti whenever he hits these kinds of walls. In these cases, Shanak’Ti would welcome him in and offer advice with a silky voice so soothing that Simiffin could nearly feel his mind letting go of his stresses and worries just by hearing it. Perhaps this is why she is such a highly rated therapist, not only on this planet but famous within the entirety of TFS space. Though that begs the question why she even ended up here, maybe she got on the bad side of some politician. On a personal note, Simiffin hasn’t made much progress in getting to know her. While she certainly talks and answers his questions she has a way of turning the conversation around on him. Almost like talking in circles but down in such a way that SImiffin barely registers it.
Like always, Shanak’Ti seems to have some guidance or advice to give. This time is no different and after Simiffin told her about the meeting she asked for some time to think, asking him to come back tomorrow. And so he did, or would have if not for an opportunistic and impatient person deciding to make a bold move and chance it all.
#Point of View of Saroxis Ghej, Temperamental Thelsk of the Malefra faction, Six Days Before
I grip the table with some force, the metal creaks under the pressure before I even registered that I was clenching my fists. My squad leader gives me a look but continues on. He’s explaining the plan but my blood is already boiling to finally see some action, seeing as how I’m cold-blooded in nature that’s quite a feat. But it seems that in a week's time we’ll be able to see the fruits of all of our labor. I drone in and out of the strategy meeting, truth be told this isn’t my strong suit. I’m much better off with my friends pointing me in direction and me charging there, tearing apart anybody in that area. Is probably why I ended up here in the first place, I guess that rotten humhau-lord didn’t like me ripping his disgusting regime apart.
Honestly I’m a little proud of myself, though many call me a goof or just say that I have no brains, compared to your average Thelsk I’m quite strong. Which is great considering how strong your average Thelsk is to, say, a Tarmon. Those little crit-like beings can’t hold me back, took eleven of them with full riot gear to get me down on the ground, and that was only after they stuck those little needles of theirs in me. Filled them with some kind of liquid like the medics use when the injuries are too painful.
When I got here I was assigned as a laborer, and given a strict watch too. Had my own set of personal guards there to watch my every move, no prisons to put me in so this was all they could do. Plus, everybodies supposed to get a fresh start here, suppose that’s why they don’t allow certain types here. Anyway, I got moved to the military shortly after some shady folks noticed my capabilities, recruited me into their faction and now they are some of my best friends. They even got those parasites off me, got me a new identity and everything. One of the perks of the job I guess.
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
*Thwack*
I hear a familiar noise, the sound of a Tarmons soft paw-like hands slapping against a hardened reptilian scale-formation, or that of the friend sitting next to me hitting the back of my head with their hand. Though I didn’t feel it much, the sound woke me up, looks like they felt it though; their hand is already starting to swell. Guess they noticed that I wasn’t paying attention, this is a common occurrence though so they always make me study a note-sheet. This one is quite large though, just goes to show how important the next move will be. The squad I’m part of is one of the important ones too, one of the few heavy arms squads meant to lock zones down and bust the enemies out of their zones. Of course, I always get the biggest gun.
The HM-PI3, otherwise known as the Thelsk’s Pinkie, a weapon specifically made to be used by us Thelsk. I call mine Biggie, on account of my friends who call me Tiny. It fires six low-explosive shells meant to suppress infantry and harass light armor. The ammo for it gets wrapped all across our bodies, like some kind of war uniform. The heat coming off of these guns is hot enough to heat up our bloods and the only thing worse for the enemy than a Thelsk is one whose blood is on fire. Our bodies get covered up with custom fitted heavy armor, the kind used on tanks only thinner. Titanium A-3, type K is good enough to ward off any small arms fire that the enemy might have. That being said, special rounds can deal with it easily and since fleshy Thelsk meat is under all of the metal we can’t afford to be constantly showing ourselves. But by the gods does it feel good, all of the smoke and the smell of blood brings us closer to our tyrannical ancestors that conquered our homeworld thousands of years ago.
Well, that’ll have to wait. Next week. It all begins next week, until then all I can do is train some more. But I can already feel that fire lighting in my stomach, the familiar feeling of a good fight to come.
#One Week Later
I gnash my clawed fists together, the excitement is palpable in the air and I can feel the anticipation building up in my body. Today is the day we start our plan. I don’t really care about the factions fighting but, for my brothers in arms I’d do just about anything. My brothers are just as excited as I am, though I can tell it’s for different reasons. These four are my brothers and my squad mates, we have the responsibility to distract the enemy so a more elite group can go in and capture the current Captain, Simiffin. We ourselves are elite but we focus more on suppression of the enemy. Of course, the enemy is anybody who supports the current faction, and apparently there are a few factions that do, even besides the Captain’s own faction. We also have factions that support our efforts, even some that will be directly fighting alongside us. Not that it matters to me, I’m just in it to feel the spirit of battle.
While the battle will begin in a few hours, we’re currently putting on our gear. Breaking it in maybe, adjusting what needs to be adjusted, but really we just need something to do. Polva, our squad leader, grabs a basic kit with additional combat controller equipment. He mostly sits in the back, but he’s no coward. Maybe not as brave as me but when the squad needs a little extra push he leads from the front. He’s tall, for a Tarmon anyway, skinny too but he excels at hand-eye coordination. He even has no trouble when facing me in melee training, until I get a good swipe at him anyway.
Jayx is the combat medic. A scrawny one for sure, not really suited for combat but good with a rifle. He’s usually repairing my armor, or somebody else’s flesh. Otherwise, he’s watching my back by keeping an eye out for any heavy armaments, the kind that can rip through my armor. All kinds of weird tubes and inserters can be found in his kit, advanced education is a requirement for this role and uh, well, I can’t really say that’s my thing. He’s rather professional and cold but stay with him long enough, and maybe fill his belly with drinks, and you’ll see him blabbering about the weirdest things.
Iskin is a long-range specialist. Equipped with advanced maneuvering gear that allows him to get to good vantage points, he takes out the heavy armaments that Jayx looks out for. Really he just has jump-jets, I don’t know why they try to make it sound so official. He’s strong, and thick around the arms too, he can last about two seconds in an arm wrestle with me, not many can say the same. He clips his hair-things short, rare for the Tarmon who seem to hold it in as much pride as us Thelsk hold in our nose-horns. He’s rather mute in personality, cold and hard, I don’t quite get how he can’t seem to feel his blood surge. Maybe he’s more cold-blooded than me! Really though, he’s friendly and helpful so long as you get to know him, though that can be challenging enough.
Lastly, Yinik is the assault. Fast and quick on his feet, but no less skinny or weightless than the average. He carries a kit full of explosives and a star-shot weapon. It’s got a nice kick to it, even to a Thelsk, spits out a nice scattering of metal pieces that can clear a room in seconds. His cheerful attitude helps brighten the team, he acts younger than he is and seems to have no fear; probably why he suits this role best. He has a sharp tongue though, always ending up in little spats with Polva but they always get over it. They seemed to have known each other before they got exiled to this system, they don’t really talk about it though. Polva himself is a straight-laced leader though, strict too. He treats us like family when we aren’t working though.
My kit takes the longest to get put on, Jayx has to help me with it. What can I say, there’s a whole lot of Saroxis to fit in that suit, suppose that’s what the ladies like about me, heh. Once we all got suited up, Polva thought it best to review the situation again. Our faction and our allies number a thousand. Polva warns us to keep an eye out for our “allies”, they might attack us once we’ve won. Most of that number is soldiers but also a few crew members from the various departments aboard the station. The Captain’s faction and those that we think likely to help him out number three thousand. A one to three difference. However, we will be attacking without any warning and all of our forces will be concentrated in one area. Furthermore, a large majority of those following the Captain are just following the position and not Simiffin himself. Killing him, or at least capturing him, would cause chaos in their ranks. A juicy opportunity if I’ve ever seen one.
It’s a battle where victory will be drawn from speed, that’s why most of us will be a distraction force. Holing up near the main reactor core so the enemy can’t just rush in with the heavy stuff. Meanwhile some elite squads will race to capture the Captain and his group of head officers. While there are many things that the faction command hasn’t told us, it doesn't really matter. Not to me at leasts, that’s more Polva’s game, suppose that’s why he’s the leader.
Only a few hours until the operation begins.