Everyday is Caturday Challenge Run (AAR Write up in Progress)

[Yugian]

March 16th, 2603
Fireday

It has now become clear to us, the face of our enemy.

It began when we received some codes from the church official we beat. Prying him of knowledge and demanding answers, he looked at us with fearful eyes once we stole that key from him. Saying we did not know what we were dealing with. Then he laughed at us, daring us to look into it- that knowledge would consume us and our ambitions would see us burn like moths. I'm fairly certain that he mentioned something about his gods as well, but by that point the brainers and our tribals had their way with him and that's none of my business.

Its what I pay them for.

Instead, I deferred to the FBB and Elder for this one. I was a Professional Mercenary by trade, whilst I could crack this thing- its their job and if I bricked the stick we got from the robes? I was never going to hear the end of it. That was... What. Couple of months ago? What's important is they finally figured out what we were looking at, and where it went to. And what we hold in our hands, is something beyond value.

The codes are for a defensive matrix that revolve around the fourth planet of this solar system: Mars. I'm sure the irony is not lost on anyone that we hold a fourth of those very codes, operating on some rule of four (How pedantic.) This Matrix protects the grand fortress and manse of Cydonia, belonging to being known as the 'Solar Governor'. A being that is only referred to in hushed whispers and Utter reverence. It explains why the church wacko was overwrought- even as little lip as they pay to the Ethereals.

We hold knowledge that is utterly forbidden. Only Humanities privileged elite knows of this individual, and no one has met him in person. Or she. Or... It. Its very likely some kind of Ethereal, considering the Stellar Empire's leadership... Yet, I've heard rumor once that there was something above Ethereal. Old smuggler tales from other captains whilst on shore leave, that they've been haunted by dreams of something... Demonic. Otherworldly. A gentle carress of the mind, that played on their fears and cowed them into line.

Fantasy, surely- for nothing is that psionically strong. It breaks the known laws of the Conchfield effect to be able to manipulate planets from that far away. Yet I cannot help but feel nerves fray and a shiver to run down my spine at the thought of it...

Regardless of how I feel about this, we've discovered Earths critical weakness. Not even the Empress knows this, nor has ever come as close as we are now to having a real chance to take this world. Loyalty to the crown would dictate we talk to Cat of Nine and Shadowcat and inform her of this situation... But I think will keep my cards close to my chest. Not even the crew can know about this. I've ordered my Brainers to keep silence on this, and ensure that No one has access to the files.

Not until its time to make our move.

But there it is. If we decide to stay here: stay the course... embrace destiny. Then everything we must do by this point- Everything that *I* must do, from the weapons we have- the talent I curate... It all must be for the purpose of ensuring a lighting strike. We're not a threat, *Yet*. We're a respected power on earth, but a curiosity at best. We're a new status quo- and despite taking scores of class threes, we will never be able to eliminate any of the factions. Not within our lifespans, and not without cutting off the Ethereals backing. There's simply too many of them, and too much influence.

But if we were to make storm Cydonia and Assassinate the Solar Governor? Then its possible. Considering that from our limited information, he is the lynchpin that holds everything together here? A Coordinated assault from the homeworlds, or agents within major political powers in tandem with the assassination- And we could easily instate a Coup d'état. Backwater as this planet may be, the things we've experienced here: The powers and capabilities of humanity and the investment of resources despite it all... If we take this planet, then everything could change. The Sector. Our faith. The knowledge we could bring back...

But we would only get one shot at this. Failure means that we will be scoured from the surface of the earth. The Peregrine cult would likely go with us and anyone whom ever held Mrrshan sympathies would be next. Likely in Nuclear Hellfire. Also rekindled wars and aggression. Thankfully, we'd all be dead and not have to care.

Quite frankly, The weight and implication of all this terrifies me. Even if we are well over a year off of considering such a feat (Progress on the planning of this will be under OPERATION: TRIPLE A), the fact that by my will alone- I can exalt or doom an entire planet... This is what it means to be a saint, doesn't it? Why I had such a dream? The capability to make such choices. The ambition to seek those heights.

The wheel of fate is turning, and I must be its weaver.

Stream is Over!
May you Sauce in Interesting times...

[Yugian]

Sorry about no stream on Wednesday, I was tasked with House sitting and a favor was called in. One does not ignore those whom helped your life back in order.

April 2nd, 2603
Shaday

Blood Trickles down my fullers.

Today is a day that lives on in Infamy... In a good way, mind you. Today is the day in which we have struck a decisive blow against the Traders guild. Their home, their hearth. A place of refuge. This was not merely just shipping or assets being maneuvered- though we've certainly taken plenty of those scores as well. But this is territory, and they will not forget this soon.

We're stripping everything from this place, up and to including the wall paneling. We've but a few hours before they can organize and get a task force out here, so its not an elegant job. But the salvage crews are working overtime, and every Claw-sister who isn't bleeding out and exhausted is getting in on matters. One of the few luxuries of being both captain and bullet-ridden: I need not get to work.

We've come a long way from being convicts. I can see it upon the brows of the Claw-Sisters. I can see it in their gait, in their practiced killing hands. We've become killers. Warriors, whom would be a fine addition to any army. Rivals to special forces. In today, we've proven that we are a warrior house. We've proven to the world that we are not merely raiders; opportunists whom clutched pearls from the sky. We are a true warrior house, and had we the ability to hold onto this territory... It would have made a fine fief.

The dead shall be left here. A message to those whom would follow: That they were not safe. That they would always have to fear our retaliation. And surely, we would have it in return. This was an escalation of the conflict: but they already were looking to wipe us out. We merely found them first. But to the many dead whom laid in these halls, this tomb that they would find... Let them live in fear of what we can do.

An idea was born today. I merely wonder how it would desiminate throughout the crew.

April 11th, 2603
Dragonday

My conference with the Red Mage has achieved some results.

Obviously, she's not telling us everything. That's just *Reasonable.* We don't know her well enough, and we're 'Xenos' to her. Outsiders and useful pawns to her schemes. Cuter then she could have hoped for, but she is carefully investing into us, piece by piece. Wealth does not seem to be shortcoming with her, she's investing enough funding that its clearly including Hush-Funding. 'Retainer Fees' she calls it, but there'd be more then a singular lump sum if that was the truth.

Our first operation together had us attack one of her rivals. Acquiring a magical artifact to further her ambitions: We were well paid in salvage and another lump sump for a reward well done. Oddly enough- the artifact she tasked us for was... a Padlock. For in this world, you need locks to open doors, rather then keys. This sounds utterly ridiculous, but I brought it up with SquirrelWizard and they said it made 'Complete and utter sense'. An 'Inversion of your expectations to keep the gates beyond secure'.

Beyond utter goddamn non-sense. But I'm also bringing back the dead by using magical stones and the fact that I am a walking avatar of war and violence. So opening doors using locks makes sense to me. Maybe you just slam them together.

That's actually kind of funny.

But its clear we're descending into some rabbit holes. Choices are being made, and we're taking sides. As we further our collaboration with the Red Mage, we'll be cleaning more of her dirty laundry up. More of her rivals will become targets. And worse off- She has invited us to be her forward agents in trying out what she calls "Tanhouser Gates". Gates to the other side... A few Claw-Sisters got to get... Intimate, with her. Taking her measurements, and were taught the basics of what would happen going in. Im too wounded, so I cannot take charge. But by her words, we will be going somewhere completely unknown to us. We would have to gather tools, materials and assets from within- to further expand our ability to traverse this place. It is very likely we're walking in naked... Yet it was the next step forward.

And she would be contacting us soon.

Stream is Over!
May you Sauce in Interesting times...

[drew2319]

Catvy's Log.

I'm currently sitting in what I assume is a bed. I assume this because the world around me feels...soft. My memories are a kaleidoscope of color and shape with no meaning or order, which sucks. I can't remember me. Or you. Or her. What little I do remember sears my mind and I shy away from it.

A flash of light, a trip down into the depths of Shadow and the darkness within us all.

I remember camaraderie. Bracing for something new, something scary. Something necessary. I remember being a cat, but not a me cat.

A skeleton collapses before my claws. Its weapon clattering to the ground, quickly snatched up by a cat who bore a face unfamiliar, but a soul wreathed in warrior fire.

I remember feeling confident. My friends around me handling the new as we had the old. Our skills and training serving us well. Demons. Undead. Nightmares? Maybe. Fear.

A pain, unlike any I had ever felt. No wounds upon my flesh, but my shining heart rent asunder, spilling its open wounds like flowing gold into the void around me. My assailant unseen. I hope they died.

I remember nothing. I sit here in this soft field, hearing whispers, a language long lost to time. Emotions flicker at the edge of it like embers off a chemical fire, colors dancing and trying to tell me their secrets.

Suddenly, clarity, sharp like Ka__n_a_'s claws, slicing through me in horrific fashion.

I'm in a Voodoo coma.
And the people outside have my soda stash.

[Kamivax]

Kaminyan's Log
I normally wouldn't make a log, however certain...events and acquisitions have made me feel like writing one is necessary. Those...things we found at the bottom of the sea and in those magic boxes...I think the brainers and the Capnyan called them "arcane strongboxes", I don't understand why they use such fancy language. Those things have...voices...I can't think of any other way to describe the feeling. I asked Capnyan and anyone with Voodoo aptitude...even Squirrelwizard if they could feel it, they just looked at me like I was mad. Maybe this is less of a log and more just me writing my ramblings down, but I'm certain there's POWER in those things, those 'simulacrum parts'...great power. Power we could use to protect the newer members, power to finally make the Star Gods pause before striking us... at first we just found a torso with a head attached, but no limbs and cavities where a heart and brain would sit....then when opening the boxes we found arms and an strange thing that, if my memory of how the torso looked...would fit in the head cavity so I assume it's the brain. Each piece brings new sensations when I get close to them: the torso brings feelings of a hide of great toughness, the arms bring forth strength unimaginable to us Nekos and the brain brings forth thoughts alien to me, full of Voodoo might. It scares me, but at the same time I feel like they're calling to me, asking me to make the being whole. I'll try asking the others if we could search for the rest of the parts, the legs and the heart, as a side project. Hopefully this will prove to be a great asset to us in the coming future... for some reason I feel like I have heard those voices before, when I had my revelation about the Sivalinga stones, as if the will of Terra herself wants us to bring this being to fruition to break those that have claimed her by force...the vile Star Gods.

[Yugian]

May 15th, 2603
Skullsday

I have received my Claw-Sisters back from the void.

Catvy's in a Coma, The others describe being put into cages and tortured... Only a few were able to break through and take up arms to defend themselves. Perhaps it was a mistake to send in the most sensitive souls. I was unable to go on the mission myself, as I was still wounded. A mark of shame, really. I'm not one to send others where I would not go myself: And being wounded left me unable to do so. I'm still walking off injuries from the base assault- The Herbalists would not permit my passage. Perhaps now they have even more precedent to do so.

Sanity has always been something in short supply regarding this Crew. Starry eyed dreamers are not exactly bastions of common sense- Earth has proven itself to be a Chaotic mire of confusion, avarice and death... and now stepping beyond the veil- I worry that will be the breaking point for many of our number. I've come to understand why shamans were always mad; that our witches always seemed to be a little off and why our kin shy away from plying too many whom peruse that path.

Its madness. Soul rending madness, that part of me wishes I could step back from. But the shadowmasters will not let me.

I feel an inexorable pull to the void now. As if weight was pulling me down. I can fight it: Quite handily. The lessons learned from fighting the Witches trials, and my own... Abilities, protect me. But I've come to understand the dream that I once saw- that left me with our awakened codex: It was a trial. To see if I could withstand and fight back against the influence of this... Shadow. It was also a dare to ambition. The later of this to be pondered another time. The importance here is that I can. But how many others cant? I have to curate whom goes into the void carefully in the future now.

Perhaps I can consult with the herbalists whom can measure who has seen these dreams and rejected it? I cannot tell my sisters to abandon 'Voodoo', nor are we in a position to do so. This world is so deeply mired in it, that to step away from its offerings is tantamount to suicide. Cutting off your nose to spite your face. But it is no longer enough to measure just raw potential. I must measure their character.

I must measure their souls. But at least the pay is good... And these... Echoes. I've been called into the summoning halls. For the saint is needed to guide these souls as well...

Stream is Over!
A broken mirror, is a reflection of the soul...

[Kamivax]

For those who might be wondering why the Captain's Log for last stream was edited, it's because Kaminyan didn't go to the realm of fear the singular time we have gone there so far. If my memory of that stream is correct, she was still nursing wounds from a previous mission and couldn't go.

[Yugian]

June 10th, 2603
Bloomsday

Klaxons would blare as an alert was broadcasted across holds. A muster to arms for all Aerospace assets: Mobilize and prepare to engage enemy air assets. This was not the usual Hunter-Killer Protocols, in which they sank ships for profit. No, this was a battle for survival. All weapons hot- Crews are to work extended shifts and ensure all wings are repaired and reloaded within an hour of their previous mission. The Armory was open, and all requisitions for additional ammo were sanctioned.

The Pilots, whom once fought each other for the privilege's of conducting these missions- now dreaded the extended combat. There would be no argument over whom fought for the house- Whom was a knight of the sky. The romance pushed aside as the emergency orders were given. Protest was stifled as video feeds of abandoned structures were being bombed by what looked to be drone assault ships.

Turbo Penetrator missiles. They could breach into the hideout. Accompanied by powerful blasters that could rip apart Aerospace hulls.

The importance of the mission was made evident. Flak-Cannons might be able to intercept the missiles, but every scout they let slip through the net- was a chance that their home would be struck by the finger of god. As made evident by early engagements as well, There were entire wings of them. The sky was mercifully not full of them (Yet), but if they could not keep up the pace? That could very well change. Glory could and would easily be found in fighting such a menace, but such desires of glory bled away to sheer pragmatism. Resolve and fighting like cornered rats.

Once more, The house was taught humility. That there was always someone far more dangerous out there, and that now they had become a significant thorn in someone's side... They were not afraid to use those assets. For whilst the pilots were given orders? Starlight would not forget how it started.

A Red-Eyed menace. A child, whom spoke both of whimsy and sadistic glee. Of wishing to get to know her 'older sister'. And then, when she fell into despair. Into apathy, to claim we were all bound by masters. Puppets on strings. Then finally, not unlike glass breaking when we countered her designs - she shattered. Broadcasting herself on our screen.

Declaring War. That all Meanies were to be exterminated.

Stream is Over!
Launch Every Cat-Jet. For Great Sauce.

[drew2319]

Catvy's Log
I'm writing this from the medbay, where I seem to have my own dedicated little corner now. Turns out psychic coma wasn't the worst thing the Capnyan was going to put me through this year, no sir! I'm writing this one while everyone is out on mission, by the way, so I can say whatever the nya I want. Literally ten minutes after I wake up from that coma, Capnyan is kicking down the medbay door and demanding I get up to fight some lobsters.

That went well.

Holding a military structure with way too many entrances against a horde of walking armor and claws, I set up dead center under the open sky, and fired off more gas shells in the one mission than I've ever fired before. Team was doing well, except the one time someone leaves me alone, a [expletive redacted] crab snuck through and I had to claw it to death. Next couple of seconds, it happened AGAIN, but the second one got me across the chest. And exactly 20 seconds later, I felt another crab claw snap, and...I blacked out.

Woke up here, with the medbay runts wondering how the hell I'm still alive. They say I'm in here for another month with change. Again. The only thing keeping me sane right now is the amount of soda in the fridge and the fact that I can still walk around and operate my mortar on the range...good thing about my choice of weapon, it doesn't aggravate an injured shoulder.

I'm really, REALLY starting to question how the hell I survive this shit.

[Kamivax]

Kaminyan's Log
I finally get out the medbay after a month in following some nasty shocks from one of them fish people things...only to get sent back in...for another 18 days. At least it's just 18 days. I hope every time I get out the medbay I can spend at least one month out of it...I don't know how many times that has happened recently...that fish siege was fun...until I decided to shoot the enemy instead of the tried and true bonking. Not only do the lasers fail to down the target...THEY ALERT IT TO ME and it just zaps me into a month long stay. Every time I'm left in the medbay or at base, the voices come back...begging, pleading and sometimes DEMANDING for me to "make us whole" and then telling me to "collect the legs and heart" and every single time I've told them that we aren't getting missions where we get arcane boxes or that our undersea missions haven't had the fortune of finding those parts...or anymore parts for that matter. The stays in the medbay might be healing my body...but my mind only fractures further outside of missions. This stay can't end soon enough.

[Yugian]

July 14th, 2603
Crossday

Another man, spent and used like a torch. I grumble sharply as I pinch my brow, ears flicking with murderous intent- the tips pointed not unlike throwing daggers. I already know the words to be spoken: 'He knows nothing of the code. He cannot break the encryption'. My orders are the same: Let him go. He is of no worth to us. Perhaps it is unsurprising, That ship engineers would only know of ships and their function. But that does not help us now, nor me as I am gathered before my Claw-Sisters.

I am put before my peers. I am to explain myself, and the situation at hand. Whilst we have avoided disaster so far, it is only a matter of time. Even if this was to go perfectly, my crew wants to know why there are spotters attempting to TAG our home. So. With a heavy breath, I lean forward to start to explain myself.

"To explain, we're not blood-" "Well, No shit. Your not Canadian. Your weird Capnyan, but I dont think you've got royal blood in you!"

I shoot a look towards the Kit who mouthed off, a discerning eye as if judicating her punishment. She merely whistles and looks off to the side. A wonderful start to the conversation as snickering echos in the room. The next breath taken is a lighter one.

"...Right. Yes. So moving along. Aurora has been in contact with us for a long time-" "Hold on, she's been in our phone lines before this?! How long?!" I pull out a pen and chuck it at the second kit to interrupt me- the 'whiskers' on my face scrounging up as I flick it at her. "The next one to interrupt me gets a bottle to the head and a trip to the medical bay. Do I make myself clear?"

There is a silence. It goes on uncomfortably long, before I groan with a distain. Now they're following orders. I rotate my cuff, and receive the choir of obedience I asked for. Okay. Deep, irritated breath.

"...As for HOW long, she's been following us nearly the entire journey." I can feel the eyes boring into me. Yes. There is truth in this manner. I never really noted it down- assuming it was some girl whom became a Stalker. She dressed up as a pirate to try and impress me! Then when I didn't heap praise on her, she got incessantly depressed and bothered- What. Should I be concerned over every caller or individual whom wishes to throw themselves at my feet? That happens almost weekly now.

"...It started innocently enough. She called us over Government codes, when we still figuring things out. Said she was a fan, wanted to know more about Shadowtech-" A third of the crew breathes in to speak. I hold up a bottle of rum- and she acquiesces. No one wants to go back to the Medical wing- I get enough complaints that they have to stay in for too long. "-Which we didn't understand at the time. We had a few pieces of tech that made our base run. I made a few inquiries after the call and no one could trace the logs. So I let it be. Then she called a few more times. If people want to purview the logs, I had those recorded."

There is a silence. Good. Fear of the empress was put into them. Or the fear of the saint. Im starting to like that. My hands gently grip and loosen, as I speak.

"Yet she kept pressing. Wanting to know more. First she tried to placate me, dressing up as a pirate and sending me it as a selfie-" That got a chorus of snickers. I allowed them that, because it was pretty silly at the time. "-Then she wanted to know whom my masters were. I told her we had none... And she called me a liar." To quote the empress would have been equally unbelievable to a child. Or worse, made us attached to the Academy. So instead, I will bask in being a Queen. "..She danced before me as if taken by a fey mood-" Spritely as one as well. "-Then became crestfallen. That she could no longer trust me. Not before she had me."

"And THAT wasnt worrying?!"

I rose the bottle up, angled up to throw at the voice... but it was a fair question- and I did get to regale the tale. So I nodded in affirmation to the statement. "No more threatening then what we'd faced up to that point. And we didn't know what she was capable of. So I brushed it off." A mistake that they were paying for in retrospect.

"So the disruptions from the satellites was her!" Once more, I nod. "And all these hunter killers-"

"Are her. It is why I've ordered a full mobilization. When she took over the video screens from our Communications array... That was her declaring war. That we were no longer prey, but capable of challenging her? She took it as a personal offense. Which leads us to now." I pull out the data pad, marked with the symbol of our foe. Engraved and opulent. "Our efforts have led us to This. A datapad recovered from one of the Hunter Killers. It is why I have press ganged every engineer into figuring out its encryption. The governments aren't assisting us-" A groan from the room, that wasn't unexpected. "-So we must solve our own problems again."

"Why do we even entertain them?! What good do they even do for us?!" Everyone stares at the poor Claw-Sister speaking out of turn, before there's a clearing of someone's voice. "They... They Pay us, you moron." "Yeah, even the Tribal knows they're not useless. Just assholes." A nervious laughter echoes- before I call everyone to attention.

"Our opinion of our sponsors Aside- we are getting close to cracking the code. Once we do, we might be able to figure out where Aurora has been holed up. Once we do-"

"We'll raid her home, steal her away and ransom her back to-"

The bottle goes flying, shattering on impact against her thick skull. Rum goes flying in all directions- and the tragedy of wasted spirits echoes in the room. I said I would. So I did.

"We will do more then just ransom her." I stand with a firm resolution, chair pushed back as I slam my hand on the table. "We will make the Crown of Canada bow to us. Then we will take it as a prize. Sisters, The Canadians have already declared war on us! This is merely a formality! This is but a step forward in our conquest! To make a nation of earth bow before us- Will only affirm the validity of our claims! I ask of you, whom will be Claw-Sister whom will bring me my prize?!

The room erupts, now sanctioned to indulge in noise as they trip over themselves vocally to do so. After all, it was a chance for glory. A chance to rise above in status of our house... And that in no small part, mine own aura can move the masses. As if I am coated in a mantle of glamour... A privilege afforded to me by my increasing mastery as a Saint. Even if my crew is resistant- Veterans and equally potent souls in their own right, Even they can be swayed.

We will need it. To declare war on the Crown Princess of Canada... It will be no easy task.

An Herbalist breaks into the room during the ramboncous cheer. "C-capnyan, the report you asked for..." Already meek, she was rendered twice shy. A gentle pat on the head elevates her fears, with claws to scratch behind the ears. I am feeling generous in this moment of exuberant cheer. The rumbling in her throat is lost amongst the noise- as my eyes drift to the papers.

Aurora was on the move... And our agents had returned from scouting a newly burgeoning enemy... The Sky Ninjas. Things were moving apace.

Stream is Over!
Beware, Beware. The Crown Princess Of Canada...

[Yugian]

August 16th, 2603
Snakesday

Agh. I'm walking with a cane right now. Leg's a little lame, but I'll be functional here soon enough. There is advantages to being the Captain... and also annoyances. This is both in one. But I've been called for regarding some matters in the science wing, regarding the Brainers and Herbalists. A gentle clack to echo in this cacophony of madness and debauchery that is our home. I am interrupted by the echoing sound of noise behind me- as I cant my head to look.

The hanger is ablomb with noise and crew, arguing with each other. It is often wise to figure out what the crew is grumbling about before I have to take personal discipline on the matter. Introduce people to the brig, or the beatstick, or some other manner to keep them calm. The "Herbalist weed punishment" is a particularly fearsome one, as no one wishes to be in the same room as the head priestess when it goes on.

Indescribable things happen in those chambers. I am better off not knowing what.

Thankfully, it was something rather pedantic in the longrun. The first of the Hoverbikes was commissioned and sent to Starlight. It hadn't even been a day and kits are clamoring over it: wanting to give it special paint jobs, or claim ownership. I swore I even heard someone claiming they wanted to drop nukes off the back of the Cargo bay. There was the echoing sound of wrestling and tackling as teeth, fur and claw was leveraged in what could best be described as 'Catfights'. MP's were nearby to ensure nothing got out of hand (Even though some of the senior staff were in this kerfluffle...), so the situation was well in hand.

Besides, if they dont cut loose over pedantic, silly matters- they'll get themselves hurt over something else. So I let them be. I haven't needed to judicate every last thing in this base for a long time.

Instead, my focus returned back to the center of my actual attention. The laugh was welcome and a helpful salve. I found myself bypassing the Lab curiously enough (And to my annoyance), so having to walk from the literal end of one base to the other had better been worth the fact I was charlie horsing myself.

It was.

Before me stood a complex of supercomputers, hypertuned frequencies and signal boosters. An industrial strength cable directly running to the Hyper-Pulse Generator, and providing it and this new communications wing a symbiotic function. Whilst still under construction- Even its Skeletal structure was... Inspiring. Enough so that I wasn't going to rag someone in telling me that this should have been labeled as an Engineering project. But that is besides the point- Neither here nor there.

My fingers run across holograhic keys- tactile output tickling my fingers as resonance pinches back at me. This was it. This was happening. My eyes look to the monitors to be imbedded above- and I let out a deep breath, held for at least three years at this point. A smile crosses my features. Whilst the situation had become far more complicated... There was always the possibility to go home now. To petition the empress herself. No more middle-men, no more in-betweens. We could extradite people.

After three long years, I can abide by my promise. We could go home... Well. Others. The deals I've made. The angles I've had to play. The... Destiny that is before me. There was no going home for me anymore. There was only the path ahead. The road as a monarch- a Queen. A conqueror. But I could protect those who didn't want to be here. Protect those whom were done with the fighting. Protect those whom wanted to leave.

We often forget the point of violence. That it is a means to live- that glory is the foundation of our lives. That by fighting honorably, we give purpose to the violence and meaning to elevate us to a civilized status. That the measure of our worth is by the skill of our martial prowess. Whilst it is true that without the strength to see ones ideals through- without the will to power to seize and fulfill ones ambitions, that they are worth nothing in this world... It cannot be the end of the road.

Violence is a means to an end. Battle, not unlike winter, shall turn to peaceful spring.

Stream is Live!
Hope is a Fragile Currency...

[Yugian]

September 18th, 2603
Skullsday

The Space Comms are online. The Hyperwave-band is tested. Signal is being received. All lights read green. It was time to Phone home.

I give the Authorization. And the signal is sent.

Remarkably, we are able to connect to Fieras within minutes. The speed of Hyperpulse, and how the brainers have managed to wrangle it in... Its borderline fantastical. To think we started with three idiots whom didn't even know how of the world in broad-strokes, to having teams reverse engineering technology we've never even seen within months... Terrans are terrifying when they put their mind to something. Did they truly only lose because of simply being outclassed? Or was there something else? The assassin brotherhood, opposing the efforts of man so thoroughly that only he himself could be his bane? Or did the Star Gods come with fury and fire? Supposedly, something happened with the Knights of Cydonia- having won, and yet still surrendering earth...

Oh. Hold on. What is... What the fuck is this? Would you like to... No! Godsdamned advertisements. Even over hyperwave? And now I'm on hold... I grumble with a sharp breath, as i move to lean onto the counter, ears flicking with murderous intent.

This is why. This is why they lost. Because no matter how big you grow, you still have to deal with paperwork- and the need to hurry up and wait. A reminder that even a Pirate queen is still as much an equal as a tourist when it comes to getting a phone line into the central chambers.

Fuuuuuuuuuuck. I couldn't even ask for Liquor, I had to look 'professional'. So instead I would suffer silently, fingers tapping on the counter. Yoo hooo, yo hooo, a pirates life for- "Meh?!"

An image would soon come to life on screen, as I shot up. Please let no one have heard me squeaking over the Comms. A white tiger of muscle, fur and armor was the visage I was greeted with once we were live. Age did not detract from His visage. If anything, he was not only a man- but an old man in a career in which many died young. He bore the experience of campaigns and the wisdom to direct the forces of the Mrrshan with unrivaled ease. Even that i was arguably his equal in standing now, for I was the Head of my house- his presence was imposing enough that I felt obligated to salute.

Social standing meant nothing, compared to fourty years of difference. He'd likely outlive most of the crew, and still keep fighting.

"Haw! So you are the one they are talking about. The Captain and Founder of 'Starlight'. Surviving on nothing but ingenuity. The She-Warriors would perhaps learn a thing or two from your tactics."

"You uhm... You humble me, Sir...?" A guiding question. I wanted to know his name. Some manner of formal address. He would deny me this.

"Sir will do. You are not yet free of that exoplanet and unworthy of my name. When you return to Fieras, perhaps we will take to drinks. Until then- you will listen and obey. Are we clear?" He is blatantly asserting dominance over me. And yet, I cannot help but feel moved to heel. As if the weight of the empress backed his words- and he knew this. As if I was a commander in the army, and he was the general. Worst part is- the relationship as it stood? This was true.

"We... We are clear, Sir."

He bristles his whiskers, a stern gaze upon me as if to drill the point home and crush me with social pressure... But he soon relents. There is silence- before he starts putting in commands to his console. "I will collaborate with you. Warriors of the middle ranks shall be allowed to volunteer to your cause. The training will be good for them, 'less their tails fall off from only training in the barracks." There is a pause, before there is a final sastified ding from the console "All glorious to you, Captain of Starlight."

I nod gently- and breathe in to speak. His gaze turns sharp, before he speaks again. I cannot get in a word edgewise- and it is a reminder why we left the Mrrshan military. An old man must assert authority over his army, 'less they think they can overtake him as General of the Pride.

"We have heard your request. I am directing you to Highstar now. He will deliver the will of the empress to you and you will abide by it. I only answered first, as I wanted to see who this upstart Captain was, if it was worth my time to allow my warriors to assist your cause. Your deeds speak- but I needed your measure. it is passable, for now."

But we barely said anything. Im not sure what has been proven-

"Transfering you now."

Direct and to the point. I suppose that's appreciated, considering what I have to deal with on Earth. And Im put on hold again. Wonderful. A sharp breath to brush some bangs out of my face as I wait on yet another government agency... One of the herbalists walks over, offering me snacks. I hold up my hand- an appreciated gesture, but those will have to wait. Things such as Rum, and cookies- Honey glazed meats and succulent fruits: I would indulge in its totality once we were done here. But I still had one last thing to do. So I would suffer here and wait.

It feels like hours, even though its merely minutes. But I see the face of the diplomat once more, and I rise to attention- hands folded as I keep a formal posture about me.

"Highstar, good to see you. I dont imagine you thought that I would be calling you now, would I?" There's a gentle smugness to my tone. As if I was challenging the man to how fast we progressed here. That we could contact the pride at Our Leisure. Yet he seems calm, and my attempt to make him budge does not even phase him. Which only makes me worried- because that meant he had something that made him stalwart. Not a good position to be in diplomatically. But I would clear my voice and speak. "I presume you've had the chance to review my extradition request?"

"Ho-bah. I have read your request. It is presumptious, but I have read it in is entirety. I have reviewed it with my council and the empress herself." The Empress? That's Why did it go up so far? Were we that much of a political liability? Or were we simply worthy of that much concern? I do my best to keep a stoic face, but that our simple request for formal aid in departing the system was so heavily scrutinized I am shaken by the concept. The words that follow, break me.

"It has been denied. You are in too important a stragetic position. By your own power, you have trapped yourself. The Ethereals are coming to Earth. If we were to arrive in any force capacity- we would provoke a war and cause a Genocide of our own we cannot prevent. If you wish to become a Warrior house, as you so claim- you will fight your way out and prove your right to exist by strength."

Emotion overwhelms me. I grip my fist hard enough that I draw blood- before slamming it down on the counter. "And what of everyone here whom Cannot fight?! There is Peregrine cult here- and the crippled! Non-Coms and-"

The diplomat keeps a strong face. This is not the first time he's denied someone, and faced an emotional reprisal. It will not be the last.

"As is your duty, you will protect them. Once it can be arranged- they will be extracated. To be a warrior house is not just luxury and glory, child."

Child? Child? He Insults me. "And what about the warriors I was just promised?! Was that an empty lie to placate me-"

"No. I am aware of the generals dealings. He believes there is merit to your efforts. The empress does as well. They will arrive on the Free-Trader ships, once they have been collected. Now mind your temper, Warrior. Or am I speaking to a mewling kitten- instead of the Captain of Starlight?"

I bristle under the words, the marks on my cheeks looking like flared whiskers. But there is nothing I can do. If I push back, I will damn everyone whom wants to go home. So I loosen my grip- and look away, just to try and save face. Nothing more then a few breaths to afford me time, before my voice goes low.

"I... I beg forgiveness. It is for the love of our people, that I acted so rashly. It has been a struggle to be so far removed from Fieras. I forget myself."

There is goddamn bile in my throat for having to admit that. That I was attached to the crown so directly. But it is enough to appease the diplomat, and that is what speaks right now.

"Forgiven. You are in a stressful situation and a new house head. You will be stronger for this." He clears his voice- before speaking once more. "As the empress has decreed- you are in a stragetic position now deemed too important to remove you from. You are instead given orders to Combat the Ethereals directly."

"And how are we do to that with the equipment we've got? We're scraping by with what we have." A soft rumbling from my throat suggests irritation. It would be easier if we had professional equipment. "Will the Empress provide us with what we need to combat this enemy?"

"Once the skies are clear. There is too much presence around earth right now. There is an agreement with Laputa to move people, but military supplies of such caliber will not go unnoticed. Bring us their Robes- and we will be able to sanction a release of supplies. These are your orders. Do you understand me, Starlight?"

I nod softly- before rubbing my face. I understand.

"Then I shall let you go. May you find Glorious victory."

The feed winks out. And there is silence. An herbalist meekly walks up to me, asking if I wanted anything now. I nod, and ask for a glass of water... The poor girl doesn't know what she is about to invoke. Dutifully she serves me. Tending to my need- and parches my thirst. I shall not waste water.

But as I move to leave, The glass is thrown with the force of a bullet into the wall. The sound of shattering glass echoes through the halls, and catches the attention of everyone present.

No one is dumb enough to speak to me right now. No one dares cross me. I pass, without trace.


Stream is over!
On strings we dance, to tunes of others...

[Yugian]

(Applogize for only one Caturday stream last week. I was needed for tasks and thus didn't feel comfortable just up and going in the middle of it. We'll be back on track for this one. Bright side- new parts for the computer!)

22nd of Oct, 2603
Shaday

The volunteer force has finally arrived. Ten in total, coming with crates of wargear. The Smugglers could at least get that in without too much attention- specialists that they are.

The Divide between the homeworlders and ourselves is evident. Stark even. Whilst I am shown respect, for I am the commanding officer- they scoff at the crew I've assembled. My troops are battle hardened, experienced... and disciplined enough to listen. Their armories are unique and they are often draped in trophies and effects of their own design. As has been the case from our very inception: We were privateers and corsairs. Its why this whole pirate shtick works out as well as it does. We've been at this for longer then this- its just only these past few years stuck on a planet that made things interesting.

But to these warriors, our 'Claw-Sisters' are brutes whom only understand the basics of combat. A few were ACU's- Two were Fieras Freeborn. Smug superiority crosses their lips, knowing they had the most elite training the empire could muster. It was ten minutes before I had to break up a fight, and it was over the fact we're uncouth spacers. I debate if calling the empress was a goddamn mistake: But. They're professional pilots. They can fill out our airforce- and the care packages they came with are a package deal. Without them, there was no supply. So they're tolerated.

They need some adjusting, some rum, and maybe a hotbox or two to mellow out. The point of them coming here was to get them out of the house- so, in a way? We're dealing with our own unruly children. If nothing else, they're professionals- we can learn something from each other: Along with genuine combat doctrine. The Ways of Trounce.

A few of the Claw-Sisters took what they knew and had with them- adhering to one doctrine or another as befits their skills. I've noted it a few times, and they've served as Quasi-Political parties. But with actual Homeworld Veterans coming to intermingle with us, this dynamic might change very rapidly. Claw-Sisters joining Cadres to take their skills further, and focus their minds and bodies...

Every step of our journey has been built upon compromise, cooperation and stealing what we wish to grow stronger. Elite special forces training is merely another prize to a Corsair- and it will be easy to goad them into spilling their secrets. We'll see what makes the ACU so special: trained and prepared to fight 'Antarians'- whilst the Freeborn could show us what Nobility could do.

We would all be stronger by the end of this. Or they would be dead. Unfortunate- but a possibility.

====
Addendum: There was something else I needed to notate.

Cleopatra has gotten ahold of us again. Awhile back, she wished for us to participate in some gambling scheme in which we hunted beasts with nothing more then 'tribal weapons'. There was good money involved, and my huntresses relished the chance to take their skills further. It was fun, we learned quite a few things and made a tidy profit. That, should of been that. But fool that I was, I've come to realize what a mistake that was.

No, at least fools have the benefit of the doubt. Of ignorance- Such is why they're fools and not idiots. I should have known full well what I was doing in dealing with her. There was a reason she paid so much for us to fight. To bring my hunters to such dire locations, and combat in such odd scenarios.

For I looked upon an abomination. Children made of our blood and flesh, spilled during the Primal trials. Our very gene code has been weaponized to strengthen Thebes- our trials to further improve her understanding and mastery of our forms. There is no waste in this woman. No lumps of muscles or imperfection that marks her as having been born. Strong of mind and body- and slavishly devoted to her queen. She was put to heel by merely a word. First to the Queen Bee. Then, with but a mere word- to me.

A gift. A 'sample' for me to see. A silent implication and a threat. That our cooperation has brought us great boons- but that she was more then capable of combating us. That she could 'improve' upon us, creating warriors fitting for her empire. For now, our survival was a boon to her- and she wished to continue this relationship: But this was no alliance of powers. She had violated the sanctity of our kin, stolen whom they were and made obedient slaves. I wasn't looking at people- I was looking at Mutts designed entirely and solely for the purposes of combat.

Which is rich, coming from me. I'm one as well. But at least I was born. Not made.

Stream is Over!
You will live to fight, and fight to live, here and now...

[Yugian]

December 9th, 2603
Bloomsday

"And we're certain this will stop them?"

My brainers nod. Finally, they understood the code and cracked the Datapad. The white haired bitch could hide no more secrets from us. Apparently, this whole assault? The commitment of military force and the aim to suppress us? to eliminate us, and presumably capture me? Was all apart of a grander operation called "Operation Snowstorm." Taking advantage of vulnerabilities in our early communications to have put in a backdoor. Ensuring if I didn't play nice- that she had means to track us down.

This was no longer a task she could accomplish. She could use old Targeting data- but other then our assets in the Dark Dominion? There was nothing she could do. She was locked out- and she would need to try a new angle to get to us. In essence, we've bought ourselves breathing room before she strikes again. Something we crucially needed. Recalibrating was going to take time anyway... So with a motion of my hand, I speak with a queens authority.

"Then make it so. If we have to go to ground for a couple of months, then It'll have to be so."

"Hopefully Capitaine, it will not be more then a month. Maybe two."

"Well, as long as we don't have to cancel Mega-Christmas over matters. That's Our Shtick, not hers..." I'd huff with some irritation- before i'd flip the pages of the document presented before me. Something catches my eye. Tapping my finger on the paperwork, I'd clear my voice.

"...And this an odd side project you've been working on, I see. A Dossier on the crown princess of canada? Rather scarse then I would expect of you all, but enough to work with. One might be suggesting that we go and settle the score- Stage a counter attack." I look at my council presumptuously. "Do you mean to go over my head and plan a military operation outside of me?"

There is a stoic deadpan in the room, as if my ribbing failed to even land. But the FBB would keep a small, delightful grin about her- as she gently flicked her hand.

"Ma Capitaine, you wound me. You pay me to think, and organize information for you. It is not My place to prepare for military operations... But I can certainly guess as to what you will do. Or what Honor demands we do. You will, of course, handle the planning. The rallying of the troops, what it is that you do. But why wait for you to explicitly tell me to look into our enemy? She will be a bother for My endeavors and as much as I'd enjoy a break..." She leans forward- the candor leaving her face as a deadly gaze crosses her eyes. "...There are so many Questions I have for her. Ma Capitaine- would you care to follow me?"

Follow her? An odd request, but very well. The council can wait. The FBB was the authority here, after all. So we pass through the halls- to a small enclosure dedicated to the research and designer projects of the Brainers and Herbalists. Pieces of wrecked HK's were brought here, the Nekorunts tearing apart pieces with their strange... goblin like tendency. But they made fine work of our equipment, and carried on enthusiastically. So we did not mind them. Instead, what I was looking at was the skeleton of what looked to be a Dropship.

"We've been so inefficient, using craft specialized in One thing... and those batteries? Ma Capitaine, we may be wealthy- but we must keep in mind our spending where we can. And the space we use for our hangers!" She threw her hands up, exasperated. "It is our way to embrace disorganized chaos- but think of all the space we could have if we condensed our hangers!... But to do that, we must have a craft worthy of doing everything- at a reasonable speed, must we not?"

Oh boy. This was a sales pitch. A rare thing from the FBB. It meant she usually had some 'better' idea for this week- that would be superseded next week. I'd roll my eyes- before my hands would find themselves looped into my belt again. "Alright- What is this craft then? What is the chariot that will get us to Heaven, Earth and Aurora inbetween?"

As if the magic words were muttered- my FBB sprung to life- her arms wide before the great skeleton. Her voice booming throughout the room.

"Behold, my finest craft yet! The Drakkar! Faster then our other craft- practically just as spacious as the flagship and limited only by the skill your pilots as to where it can go, and given what I have seen? That should be no such problem."

I walk over to the cockpit of the design, gently brushing my hand over the Canopy glass. A theory, still. She was promising a lot for this- but if it was true... It would be a miracle to say the least. But this was the FBB.

She could make those promises.

"How far along, are we?"

"Past conceptualization, and moving onto design." Well, yes, I can see that. "We are merely finalizing some theories regarding Aerodynamics and balancing the weight of the engine and its hardpoints... Give me three months, Ma Capitaine... No. Two." Ah, she was driven to the passions now, as she pondered. She had promised a lot... She wished to deliver. Or else her reputation was at stake.

"In two months, I shall give you the finest dropship that a Captain could wish for."

Stream has been over, sorry sorry
Land, Air and Sea. No foe shall best me...

[Solarius Scorch]

I have to say, I really dig that art as a Drakkar illustration.