What follow is the first part of that roleplay, originally on two posts separated a few days from each other with some things happening in the meantime InGame (the separation is marked by the two lines of ---- ).
Please note that all that follow was originally written in French, for a French(-speaking) audience, and that I have taken some liberties with the translation.
In the twilight of a laboratory, on a nondescript planet.
“Are you absolutely certain of your results ?”
Two people in lab coats.
“I redid the calculations, again and again. I checked again the models and compared the results to the data collected by the instruments. I even asked the Oracle to study the question. And the deviation is still inferior to the background noise.”
Only crepuscular ray of lights coming though venetian blinds highlight the holographic displays layered with numbers and symbols of esoteric meanings.
“By the Creator... Who knows ?”
“Apart from you and the Oracle ? No one.”
A heavy silence.
“We can't keep that for ourselves. It's too... It's too big.” the person take a seat.
“We agree.”
**********
[a quarter of a cycle ago]
The Majestic. Previously a luxury resort, then the headquarter of the Talon Mercenary Company. Now private property of Anna Federowsky.
At the top of the grand tower of glass and steel, in the Great Suite, Anna sits at her desk. On one of its corner, her holo-com is open on the frequency of the Assembly. Silence...
As she get up toward the bar to serve herself a drink, the holo-com stir on the table.
A sigh escaping her, she goes back to answer.
“Anna Federowsky. I'm listening.”
A strange voice, its accent at the same time synthetic and singing. “Oracle, entity Federowsky. We bring somber omens.”
Anna's eyeballs roll in their socket. “What is it, Oracle ? A looming shortage of food for the Assembly's buffets ?”
“At least as dramatic we fear. We are talking of an event of Apocalyptic consequences.”
Sigh. “What are we talking about ?”
“Of an Apocalypse.”
“Beg your pardon ?”
“Your Science opened our eyes to a number of omens. And looking up to the firmament we have seen the answer traced upon the skies. The Horsemen are coming.”
Silence.
“... An Apocalypse ?”
“We fear as much, entity Federowsky. The omens wouldn't lie. Not to Us.”
Silence again.
“... How long ?”
“A little more than two Seasons.”
Anna, silent, seems taken into a painful introspection.
“We are transmitting our omens to your Souless-Brother. So that at your leisure you will be able to contemplate the impending Doom.”
“... Thank you, Oracle.”
“Goodbye, entity Federowsky.”
The holo-com transmission close itself, and Anna stay silent for seconds that seems to stretch to an eternity.
Seemingly coming out of shock, she open a new holographic channel.
The Order's sigil appear.
“Arya...”
---------------------
---------------------
“C'mere and help me move that shit, dickface !”
An astroport's docks.
“I'm coming, you cunt, I'm coming !”
The dockers are busy unloading a freighter bearing the Federation's seal.
“And be careful you piece of shit, these containers have more value than you'll ever have !”
“Fuck you, asshole !”
“You're welcome, love !”
/////
“Remind me again why you're using -my- astroport to transit enough weapons to blow up half a Sector ?”
Overseeing the scenery from the terass of the control tower, a costumed humanoid and an officer of the Federation's armed forces.
“I'm afraid this information is classified.”
The humanoid does not smile.
“Classified ? Not counting the Nuclear and Ionic weapons, with the amount of Apotium you have here, the slightest accident and this whole place is going to get vaporised, along with half of the planet. -My- planet. And I wouldn't even have the right to know -why- ?”
The officer doesn't turn to face him, contemplating the scenery in front of him, the gigantic spaceship offering the spectacle of a beached cetacean getting its entrails emptied by trails of ants – some of them literal as a number of Kyu's Sisters participate in the operations.
“I am not free to disclose these informations.”
“'Not free' ? Not free ?! Are you kidding me ? I am the Governor of this goddman planet, one of the most powerful people in the Federation, and you, a fucking grunt, you have the balls to tell me I don't have the right to know why you are preparing what looks awfully like -war preparations- on MY. FUCKING. PLANET ?!
I can't believe it. “United Worlds' Federation” my ass. In the end it's still the Mercenaries who old the keys of this fucking house.
And to say I offered my confidence to that who-”
The humanoid is interrupted in his diatribe as the officer, holding him by the collar, lift him from the floor and hold him firmly against the wall.
Looking him in the eyes, he speak in a chilling voice.
“As the Governor of this planet, you benefit from a certain degree of immunity, and as a civil the Federation's Armed Forces have made the oath to protect you. However, finish this sentence and insult the Boss, and by God and my Contract I swear we will be able to read in the papers tomorrow that you suffered an infortunate incident inspecting the astroport's recycling station's grinders.
Have I made myself clear ?”
The governor, shaking, nod his head.
“Good. This being said...” the officer put the humanoid back on the ground, and his uniform back into order. “I am not free to disclose the details or even the goal of our operations on your planet at this time, but I can guarantee you they aren't of a nature susceptible to put it in danger. If you have other questions, address them to my superiors.”
**********
“Have you ever wondered what the Purgatory looks like, Arya ?
I can tell you, for it is where I grown.
Imagine, Arya, a hundred million colonists, arriving in a galaxy alien to them.
Imagine that half of them die on its doors from one of these routine Ionic bombardment we only know far too well.
Imagine now that these colonists, far away from home and having suffered losses that are hard to even conceive, lose contact with the Motherland. Imagine that these colonists, alone and isolated, to survive have no other choice but to take a planet in the blood of its inhabitants.
Imagine, furthermore, that these colonists, alone, afraid and hurt, learn that the Motherland for which they had already given so much, sacrificed so much ; knowing full well the probable issue of their journey had knowingly and voluntarily sent them on what constituted a suicide mission.
And, finally, as this community violated at the most profound level of its convictions and of its Faith is just starting to rise again, imagine that an Apocalypse happened, sweeping away and for a long time all hope of rebuilding.
I could tell you the tales of a ragtag pack of survivors, all descending from an elite armed force, condemned for half a millenium to sell themselves to the highest bidder, to survive days after days.
This story, it is the one of my People, Arya. We have been into Limbos for so long, seeking the light...
When finally I offered my people the opportunity to find peace, when I laid what I thought was the last and final bloody mark of our wandering by taking HQ ; by taking this Promised Land I thought that we would finally be able to put our past behind us. That the mercenaries and murderers we had become would finally be able to find the redemption we had so dreamed of.
Oh, sure, it would have taken a few generations for the old culture to fade out, so that again we could become respectable. But what are three generations against thirty of pain and grief ?
I accomplished so much in so few cycles, Arya. The United Worlds. The Federation. My people, for the first time since it left Songe so long ago, has at least an horizon other than simple survival, and the hope that tomorrow is going to be better than today.
After surviving for so long, for the first time we Live, Arya !
But, this prediction... If in fact an Apocalypse should happen again, when we just finally rose again after the last one ?...
I can not envision this, Arya. I can not.
I may not have anymore political power political power in this Federation I birthed, but I still hold a certain persuasiveness ; and, trust me, being seen a messianic figure by your people has certain advantages.
I gave our scientists a number of orders.
I do not yet know how. I do not yet know how long, the efforts or the sacrifices it will take,
But we will survive, Arya.
We will survive and we will be back, again.
Because it is our Nature.”
Thanks in advance any kind of feedback.