Schwieger

Rift Relative PW: Imperial Nalydian 7th Fleet "Vanguard of Impulse" Like the inexorable march of consequence - surefooted, wonted, and tacit - the heavy legions of the High Hunter's navy once again make passage through the putrid voidswells relative to the myriad realmfabrics of the PW universes. Ever-spiteful, the rift abhors their presence - a presence forced upon them by the fleet's overall admiral, the commander of the 5th Naval District, Admiral Manster Heinz. Having initially withdrawn his forces from both PW-1 and PW-2 following the Second Arbiter Debacle, and the appearance of considerable Naxid forces, he has come to view the realms in new light. They will serve as a training ground for the relatively green 7th Fleet, and once the sailors of the formation have been sufficiently bloodied, they will rotate out to be replaced by another of the newer formations. Thus, in command of the 7th Fleet directly, is Admiral Atalyn Kalavüt. A reserved Pord from the mountains of Grazhni Brüchor, her command here is one of many career firsts: first foray into another universe; first command above assault fleet level; first Pordish admiral to return to PW after countless cycles. And so, from her command room, she pours over the displays... No, nam-Zhälnargrazhni. We aren't detecting any anomalies. Scans indicate everything is within expected parameters for this region. The news is good. Kalavüt zooms in on the displays and pans around to gain a better view of where her advisers wish for them to breach the multiversal barrier. Tasi, tasi, proceed. Across the chamber, her order is confirmed: Karüchenchelas suzttelglat, zha suzttelglatna skyk; all vessels advance through and continue onward. A wayward current of rift batters her warship, the VRZ Arctic Camel, as it adjusts in the sickly domain. Tall plumes of filth cough forth from her funnels; the current is strong, but not overpoweringly so, and the vessel is able to negotiate her way through it without drifting off course. To their stern, the second warship in the line follows Kalavüt's lead, and similarly powers through the offending current. Most of the ships in the local vicinity, the boats of Kalavüt's flagship battalion, prove unphased by the current's affront. Some distance off her starboard bow, far nearer than any of the warships of the formation, a reactor ship lumbers before the shadow of Kalavüt's giant. It takes up a good position a few degrees north of her line of advance before appearing to slow considerably. It has made contact with the multiversal barrier, and her engines now pour sickening torrents from vast thruster-nozzles as they force the leaden-sailing vessel through the streams of the barrier. And it succeeds. With the passage of moments the other formations of Kalavüt's baggage train force their way through the barrier as well, and not to be outdone, the Arctic Camel's captain guides her through with much alacrity, and perhaps no more than ten minutes after giving the order to advance into the realm, all of Kalavüt formations (a force of no more than fifty divisions) are soundly on the PW side of the barrier with good pace and spacing about them. Scans still returning as normal. No higher-order signatures or any indication of technologically advanced civilizations. Cross-referenced with our own records... This appears to be correct. What about our locales of exit? Are they still serviceable? There is a pause with the question. Whether to emerge in PW-1 or PW-2 has been a contentious point of debate for Kalavüt and her officers. Initial scouting parties have reported back very limited signatures of civilization in PW-2, but PW-1 still appears to be thriving - or what passes for such in these regions. All of the systems you marked for arrival, save for Sol, are empty. Naxids? We are not detected any Naxid presence. Kalavüt nods, and nods again. Bring us about relative to PW-1. We will drop out of rift in the pre-assigned systems with the pre-assigned complements. Tasi, the order is received; tasinehdao! the order is echoed. A stone's throw beyond the Oort Cloud of PW-1's Sol System, a star-system the locals to varying degrees know as Orbis, a number of FTL-exit signatures flash for mere seconds before fizzling away into nothingness. Then, far nearer than the Kuiper Belt, the distinctive IFFs of VRZ brigade level formations pulse to life. With the various brigade IFFs are two more uniform signatures: one for the overall division, and a second for that of the VRZ itself. The gargantuan bulks of dozens of Pordish capital elements flow into coherent reality with their baggage train screens, and with their rather standard emergence set course for the inner system.

Of course now the strange ways of those in the eye-adorned ship have begun to seem less so. Answer was had once and answer, again, comes for yet a second time. The message flashes onto the screen and Kaleoikaikaokalai reads it first to himself and then aloud for all those in his wheelhouse to hear. He glosses over the titles, but comes to rest his eyes on the proclamation that Kawaikini's land will not be sailed upon. The bridge-hands sigh and Kekapuhilihinapohulani is visibly relieved. As Kaleoikaikaokalai commanded they shadow the foreign vessel. It soon finds its place of landing and grand flames leap forth and to the lands below. They are burning the lands, Kekapuhilihinapohulani on sensors says. I know, Kaleoikaikaokalai at the helm replies. But no other actions towards them are taken and indeed it would seem to appear that the Kawikini ship has stationed itself over the capital of Ke'alohilani - still within weapons range but still distant from the fires that rain down to their west.

Grand Stream And the din of silence is broken. "Will of Bahl'i'ai, Akil: The Raht'i'ai shall be forged in the desert. Gods shall come to nurture the Den, and bring the fires of creation and renewal to these lands." In Kawaikini, the message plays: "By the Heavenly Flame, Akil: the desert shall become divine, and by the gods civilization shall be brought forth." The transmission is heard by all those on the bridge. By its end once more silence overtakes them as thought is had and deep consideration is begun. These newcomers have expressed desire to expand upon this world of ocean and land, but their word cannot be taken at face value. Prepare another transmission, Kaleoikaikaokalai calls from the helm. "You may pass but our lands are near. If your fires are kept from them ours shall be kept from you." The sensors operator Kekapuhilihinapohulani looks nervously from his displays to Kaleoikaikaokalai. They draw near, he says. Much nearer. Kaleoikaikaokalai nods and those who drafted the message know their time has come. It is sent to the incoming ship and once more a reply is awaited. We will shadow them, Kaleoikaikaokalai says, and keep an eye on what they do. Silence.

Mirrors of the Void The grand fabrics of space and time once more reveal a new and terrible host. From realms unknown a strange craft emerges. Kaleoikaikaokalai at the helm of the Grand Stream is first to see it and is aghast at its form. The new visitors to the realm come in a ship long and slender - as the Kawaikini's own - adorned with carvings and artistry... It is a familiar, foreign, sight. Their own ship, the Grand Stream, is only slightly smaller than this newest of comers, but has two hulls and fore and aft masts that hold the weight of magnificent sails. Kaleoikaikaokalai, says a Kawaikini - the sensors operator Kekapuhilihinapohulani - these contacts glow with energy I don't recognize. Kaleoikaikaokalai, not truly the helmsman but rather one too fond of helming the ship himself, steps down from the wheel. Go on, he says, I am listening. I have never seen such signatures before, Kekapuhilihinapohulani says. The thought of new and strange nations in this realm consumes him. PW-2 is vast and it is only through exploration all the people of it will be found. But for now Kawaikini's children are new and they do not know of all who reside here. This truth is cruel and seeps into the depths of Kekapuhilihinapohulani's mind. Kekapuhilihinapohulani? Kaleoikaikaokalai questions. He sees his fellow shipmate who is lost in thought. The displays show the new ship sails with heading that will take it towards lands to the west of Kawaikini domains, but Kekapuhilihinapohulani says nothing of this development. Kekapuhilihinapohulani? Kaleoikaikaokalai calls again. This time though his fellow Kawaikini hears him. He startles back with a jolt and turns to look at the man who called him. Recognition washes over his face. They are coming and seem to head towards the grand deserts to the west of our lands, he says. But they are still some distance from the planet. Kaleoikaikaokalai nods. Yes and now we are between them and the lands and it seems their defenses are coming online, he says. He turns his face away from the displays and looks back to the helm. Once more it invites him. Prepare a message, he declares to which affirmations are heard. "Your craft is of make foreign to the people of this planet. While we ourselves have no history of longevity on this world of ocean and land, we have grown familiar with those who inhabit it. Your path, we have projected, will take you near and perhaps even through our space and this is of concern to us. Why have you come? And what business do you have?" Within what seems to be an instant the message is drafted. Kaleoikaikaokalai reads over the message twice to ensure that it is good. Send the message, Kaleoikaikaokalai says and those in the wheelhouse affirm. The message is sent to the inbound vessel and a reply is awaited. Kaleoikaikaokalai's bridge is silent as they wait for word back. Only the tumultuous din of the reactors and the clanking of machinery in the lower decks pierces through the silence.

The Kawaikini From Dong Wu a reply is received. It is read at the colonial capital and a response is rapidly crafted. "Within a fortnight we will arrive at Hangzhou. High Priest Hepualaha'ole will come and with him a grand entourage will follow." Within the city the High Priest's entourage begins to gather. A tall outrigger, with sails that reach skyward, is bedecked with rows of resplendent teeth and magnificent carvings. It is readied for the transit to Hangzhou and the High Priest oversees its preparation. Five ships, nearly as grand, are prepared to join it.

Ke'alohilani, Kawaikini Colonial Capital: Earth; PW-2 With the establishment of rather extensive territorial claims in the Pacific region, the Kawaikini have successfully made their presence known on this blue world. Now, with the grand cities and metropolises bustling and growing with each passing day, it is time to look outward. This planet harbours many nations across its greater extent, and it can only be beneficial for Kawaikini's children to make official contact with at least some of these powers, large and small. Naturally those nations within their own sphere of influence are of greatest concern to them, and so with much haste diplomatic scouting parties are readied and initial observations are made. To the west stand Dong Wu, Taiyochi, and Amenria - all nations with land that hems in the ambition of the islanders. But to the south, between Kawaikini lands and those of the Icarus Faction, there is territory still untamed and savage. A message is drafted and sent to Icarus Central: "As you may know, we have recently arrived on this planet. We have built majestic cities and ports on the islands sprawling across the seas to your northern borders. Between us lies land untamed and savage. We would like to open negotiations to discuss the nature of a buffer zone in this region and potentially Kawaikini-Icarus relations beyond this. We will send the High Priest Hepualaha'ole to discuss these matters at once should you accept our offer." In typical Kawaikini fashion it is blunt. A similar message is drafted and send to Dong Wu; the Wusian territory borders potential avenues for expansion, and it thus stands to reason that spheres of influence will need to be hashed out to prevent needless hostility.

And to a Realm More Pleasant PW-2, Sol System Throughout the Uranian and Neptunian planetary systems, odd signatures begin emanating forth. Before the turn of the minute a pleasant blue glow overtakes the various larger moons of the planets and reality seems to become porous... If only for but an instant. And in this instant, entire towns, cities, and their occupants push forth into the 'verse and emerge onto the moons of the twin ice giants. We are detecting massive realm breach signatures, nam-Kalanok, the sensors operator says. They appear to be consistent with what we are expecting. They are centered around Uranus and Neptune? Kalanok questions. Tasi, tasinehdao, they are centered around Neptune and Uranus. Verifying nature... The sensors operator tends to the displays. Within moments the moons of Uranus and Neptune come into view. Upon them are the remains of what once were glimmering cities. With this verified the sensors operator sends the information up to Kalanok. nam-Knachen, sensors, Kalanok says. It appears that High Hunter nam-Talzhyn and our holdings have arrived in-universe. A cheer erupts from the officers of Kalanok's bridge. PW-1, ever-unpopular, will not need to be visited again. A hologram begins to take shape on Kalanok's main display port, but it does not take very long at all for the Pord to be recognized. Kalanok bows. We have arrived in-universe, nam-Kalanok DritteJloknam, nam-Talzhyn says.Make sure that everything is set and we haven't left any aberrations, he tells the cruiser captain. Tasinehdao, Kalanok says. He bows once more and nam-Talzhyn, now very busy, rescinds his hologram. For his part Kalanok opens a line with the other cruisers of the group. In unison the visages of their commanding officers appear before him. He looks around to his officers before addressing the other Pords directly: We will be heading back into the rift. We are to ensure there are no abnormalities left from High Hunter nam-Talzhyn's transit, he says. The other Pords nod and disappear. Kalanok then turns once more to his bridge-crew: Take us into the rift, he says, and they do.

Let the Eternal Winter Wash Over You Nalydian Uranian and Neptunian Territory, PW-1 High Hunter, we are receiving a communique, a Pord calls. She turns away from the device and motions for nam-Talzhyn to come over. Patch it through, he says. The Pord nods in return. She brings the communique through the communications array that has been brought to the Villa to replace the holocommunicators and other similar devices that were destroyed during the Naxid attacks. The message then is projected and she reads it for them all to hear: "We have reached the PW-2 universe. Sol System appears to be intact. Outer planets are devoid of habitation. Inner worlds Sol III and Sol IV are inhabited. We foresee no major issues with transitioning into PW-2. No signs of major habitation, only smaller-scale settlements and fractured, independent, nation-states." So. We should be good to progress, then? nam-Talzhyn's aid questions. Tasi, he says. We have work to do. Clear the cruisers to begin the transition. nam-Talzhyn's aid nods. Tasi, hozhna, he replies. He reaches into his robes and pulls out a datapad and taps a few times on the screen. Within a moment or two a small hologram appears on the pad of a Pord who obviously is on the bridge of a vessel of some sort. nam-Talzhyn's aid speaks slowly and clearly: We have received word from PW-2. Secure coordinates from Kalanok and begin the transition. Tasinehdao, the hologram replies. The Pord salutes and then disappears. nam-Talzhyn turns to his aid: nam-Knachen, he says. We have work to do, he says once more. His aid nods. We should be mostly ready for the transition, he says. He pushes what remains of the door to the chamber open and walks out in the hallway before finding the entrance to the Villa; nam-Talzhyn, behind him, takes another look at the ruins and then glances out into the void. In the void, connections are made with Kalanok's forces. The coordinates to the moons of Uranus and Neptune in Sol of PW-2 are acquired and targeting solutions drawn. Within five minutes everything is set to go. nam-Talzhyn sits watching Orbis through a large and rather primitive telescope; he can pick out the myriad landmasses and the nations upon them and the grand scars upon the Atlantic that were given by the Second Arbiter. We are ready to make the transition, nam-Talzhyn, his aid calls. I don't mean to break your concentration, he says. Don't worry about it, nam-Talzhyn says. Take us out of here. The aid nods. Once more he grabs his datapad from his robes and makes a few motions on it; moments later a permeating azure hue overtakes all of the Pordish holdings within the Uranian and Neptunian Territory and they all blink out of existence.

We, Who Trek'd O'er the Ever-Tundra Rift Relative to PW-2 Universe VRZ Magnanimous Gale; Yamsi Natynozh type Rift Cruiser How are we doing? Grazhük Kalanok asks. The young Pord stands from his chair and walks over to the displays near the navigator's station. Well there's the 'verse from before, the navigator says. We had it marked, recall, nam-DritteJloknam. Kalanok nods. I do. Bring us around to Sol, he orders. The ship rolls in the rift. Magnanimous Gale, in PW-1 longer than Chürzhna has been around, is not equipped with it. Unfortunate for Grazhük, but not something he would be unused to. The reactors hum and the ship moves swiftly and is followed by a small handful of other cruisers as well. In total, they make a trio. Take us out of rift here, Kalanok orders. He moves his hand across the navigator's displays to show him where he wants the exit to be. Tasi, tasinehdao, the navigator nods. A dozen AU from the deep azure hues of the world Neptune the fabrics of reality begin to part. It first starts as a minor aberration, but rapidly grows into a grand rend. The sleek bows and industrial lines of the cruisers emerge from this tear and from the depths of the centre of the portal the rift, with impressive hatred, attempts to flow forth into the realm with alacrity. But the Pords, familiar with its terrible ways, do not allow it to flood the domain. Only but minor quantities escape - clouds rolling down from the hull and ballooning pillars of exhaust from the many funnels of the small entourage. And then with each ship having emerged from the rift the tear seems to seal and repair itself and the fabric is none-the-wiser. There it is... Neptune, the navigator notes. And Uranus as well. They appear to be uninhabited. Kalanok pans through the displays and observes each of the worlds in-system. Both Mars and Earth appear to be inhabited, he says. Odd. The sensors officer looks at Kalanok and raises an eyebrow. Without much thought he brings up more detailed information on the world fourth from the star. Looks like it is identical to the one in PW-1, nam-Kalanok, he says. In fact, the signatures I'm reading are exactly the same. Kalanok steps back. How did that happen? The bridge for a moment is silent. Kalanok, seeing that none of his officers appear to have had even the slightest inkling of such occurrences, returns to his chair. We've seen enough here, he says. You might want to look at this though, nam-Kalanok, the sensors officer chimes in again. It looks like there are... Kawaikini living on Earth. Kalanok waves the information away. Send a message over to High Hunter nam-Talzhyn notifying him of the development and tell him there's nothing to stop our arrival here in the outer system. Tasi, a reply comes. It does not take long for a message to be drafted and sent back to High Hunter nam-Talzhyn.

Greater Nalydian Uranian and Neptunian Territory Grazhni Oberon - Capital of Colony Natynozh High Hunter Cholnaq nam-Talzhyn frowns as he looks over the ruins of what is now his capital. Reports have begun to flood in that Yamsi Natynozh IV has returned and through the alabaster splendour of his Chlümüchgrazhni, destroyed all of the Pordish claims on Orbis III. High Hunters Nykat and Kalanoq are presumed dead leaving nam-Talzhyn (considering the death of Kolytaq with the fall of System Natynozh) the sole High Hunter left of the Colonial Council. The Naxids and Yamsi have really taken their toll on the Pords here in PW-1, and with nam-Kalzhak and his division gone as well, the command structure is in tatters. We should pull out of this universe, nam-Talzhyn states. He pans the horizon and shakes his head. There is not much left - Pords are working at rebuilding, but the process is not instantaneous. There is nothing here but trouble. nam-Talzhyn's aid looks down at his datapad. Back home, High Hunter? Maybe, he answers his aid. but perhaps not. We do have this multi 'versal system mapped, he says. He nods to another Pord who slowly approaches him. Grazhük, he says, DritteJloknam Kalanok. At your service, the younger Pord replies. He bows respectfully before looking back up to the High Hunter. I'm glad you could make it here on such short notice. Tell me again about your arrival, he says. To this realm, I mean Kalanok nods. High Hunter Hanüch established an exploratory program in which rift cruisers and their captains are assigned to searching vast swaths of the rift for places leading to potentially viable universes, Kalanok says. We found this universe, PW-1, in an area with a number of other, different, 'verses, he continues. nam-Talzhyn looks to his aid. Yes - and High Hunter Balnook supported colonizing here in particular, he says. He chuckles slightly. Those two likely aren't having a fun time of it right now, he considers to himself. He's spoken with Kalanok before on the matter, but that was some time ago - back when nam-Talzhyn first came to PW-2. How viable did the other 'verses in the vicinity seem? Kalanok audibly sighs. Most of them appeared to be dead - at least as far as we could tell. There was one, though... Go on. There was one which seemed to have civilization on Earth. nam-Talzhyn holds back laughter. Earth? Again? There's just something about that damn blue orb of a world... Perhaps it is the only multiversal constant. In that case, we should move our assets to this other 'verse, nam-Talzhyn says, in lieu of completely falling back out of this multi 'versal system. That universe did appear to be more stable, but we didn't pick up any signals of advanced civilization. nam-Talzhyn nods. The absurdity of needing to flee an entire universe is not lost on him. They are huge and more than big enough for even the largest of civilized star-states to share, but when an entire 'verse is unstable and threatens to collapse... Perhaps then it is time to leave. Of course, the loss of nam-Kalzhak and over forty-three thousand ships of varying sizes is also heavily convincing. Kazhanye, for his part, was not happy to hear about the loss and is reluctant to release another division for colonial endeavours, especially now with Heinz steaming around PW-1. Go on ahead to this 'verse, nam-Talzhyn says. Take your cruiser and the others and scout for us the Sol System. Anything in particular we should look for? Yes - go to the outer planets. We will rebuild there. Kalanok nods. He salutes, thinks better, bows, then excuses himself: Hozhna, nam-Talzhyn Reknugrazhni, he says. nam-Talzhyn returns the bow. The cruiser captain retires from the ruins of the Villa and disappears off into the distance, no doubt in return to his vessel and to gather the exploratory team. nam-Talzhyn shakes his head. Not many are left. He turns then to his aid: Gather who's left and have them prep our holdings for transit. Kalanok won't be long. Tasinehdao, his aid says.

Ahh... So when you're setting up a thread the title box would be broken up into "title" and "tags?" Interesting.

Some tags I would like to suggest: -- Open -- Closed -- Semi-Open -- OOC -- IC -- MT -- PMT -- FT -- FanT -- PT There are likely some more that could prove useful but at the moment they escape me.

Sacred Lights is currently out of town. He should be back to update the map by the evening of the 12th at the earliest.

Kaho'olawe "Ibic cuyir admiral noll be te sol'yc imperial armada. Bic has olaror at ner Ke'sush' ibac gar ganar ru'ram'or a shuk'la battlecruiser. While bic cuyir true ibac vi ganar lost gaan'arir be te vessel, bic cuyir su cuun jurisdiction. Sha te adla ca'nara, gar ganar caused damage at solus be cuun vessels, endangered te lives be cuun verde, caused te gebi destruction be vital data, bal be course, disturbed te final udes be countless verde, officers, engineers, bal pilots. Bid Gedet'ye, refrain teh attacking mhi, bal vi Kelir not ganar at resort at ashi methods." This tongue... Is the same as that of before, the communications operator notes. The obvious is... Obvious. Send the information to our capital, Pauahi orders. There they can begin the translation process. The communications operator nods and does as Pauahi asks. Other things though are now afoot; the slagshots rain down upon the hull but in the void the very star of the system grows dark and cloudy and a voice rings out for all the Kawaikini to hear: "Admiral Noll... Commander Pauahi... Neither of you fully grasp the situation, do you. There will come a moment when you will both find yourselves under attack, not by one another, but by a force that neither of you can hope to face alone. Therefore, both of you should work together, at least, until both of our nations have fully settled on this world. Now, I must take care of one minor issue... The Parjai'tracyn." For once they are filled with understanding. And as they gaze upon the dark star they can only wonder what the heavens have in store. The ship... It's turning to... Ash, calls the sensors operator Kainoa. The guns of the Kaho'olawe fall silent one by one as their target disappears before them. Let's head back, Pauahi says with a turn of the ship's wheel. The vast Kaho'olawe turns her bows even further away from the newcomers than they already are and a sudden spike in energy signatures betrays her new course of action.

Kaho'olawe The swift engines of the dreadnought Kaho'olawe have brought her closer to the offending newcomers, but by the time their arrival is made it seems all is under control. A message has been received from them but not much can be garnered from the doltish tongue. Sensors and scans indicate they are of no threat to the Kawaikini now, at least from their own inability to control their descent. With no overt threats, the Kaho'olawe banks away and begins to shadow the strange vessel at distance. The Amenrian warship too is noticed but no actions are taken against it. It appears there is another ship here as well, sensors confirm, other than these two warships. But it appears to be terrible state. Pauahi is quick to respond: What is it doing? Crashing, sensors says. Will it land in our territory? Pauahi asks. Its descent is not stable. I cannot tell, sensors says in return. Train batteries on it, Pauahi orders. And fire. Large blister-turrets turn and face the floating wreck of the newest ship. Blindingly hot slagshot erupts forth from the many barrels and heads for the destroyed warship. Pauahi hopes to break it up before it crashes into the world below.

Birth of the New Earth And so the tides grow vast and unending, and all but seem to be invincible to the natives of the realm. The rapid and loud crack! of gunfire is punctuated by the sounds of grand torrents of earth and molten slag crashing into position after position. Warriors with simple tube rifles hunt out locales of resistance with ease and flush them out into the open where mounted infantry, ducking through the rainforests and over the sand-swept atolls of the Pacific, end them with much more powerful attacks. Many unfortunate souls are entombed forever in rock and metal while others are simply torn asunder and limb from limb. Resistance is incapable of remaining under such heavy and relentless Kawaikini assault and it soon begins to crumble across the various and distant holdings. And as it does the Kawaikini soon direct their attention elsewhere; they came to bring another world under the tall banner of the Waikahla-Pohaku'ula, but it seems the gods have a cruel sense of humour. Advanced and numerous civilizations dots the larger continents of this world making total conquest... Difficult. With victory behind them grand task now presents itself before them. Their entrance, fraught with hatred, has left the lands desolate and barren. And it is this that guides them now; the need to rebuild and establish livelihoods on this most distant of worlds. In the first days past their arrival Kawaikini work speedily. They clear away the final vestiges of what once were cities and homes and replace them with their own. Sprawling settlements begin to take shape along the slopes and in the calderas of the mighty volcanoes; buildings crafted entirely from metal pierce the heavens with their thick walls and towers and temple complexes, but the beneath all that adorns the surface are the bulk of the living areas: tunnels and caverns and myriad chambers that eventually connect with the natural piping of many of the red-mountains to allow rivers of magma to flow freely through the subterranean cities as homage to the gods themselves. Yet amidst all the building and commotion of arrival, a grand city rises above the rest: a citadel of rock and steel snug within the treed peaks of the island Kaua'i takes majestic form, and the renewed lava floes of the silent volcano Waialeale call out in exhilaration, marking the arrival of the children from the Nui'ino. It is a large city, and with its expanse and location comes purpose. The nimble Master Hokulani, commanding all Kawaikini here and the battlegroup which brought them, has given title to the new city. Ke'alohilani is the handle bestowed and with this divine appellation the city atop the Waialeale is declared the capital of these new holdings. Smaller settlements ring Ke'alohilani all along the mountainside and lead out into the sea where the grandest of spaceports has taken shape; the outrigger starships of the Holy Kawaikini Navy, with no logistics to support them and no apparent way home, soon find the piers and quays to be of splendid convenience.

I do not see any red dots on this map, although I might be overlooking them. It seems (I could be wrong, though) that you are RPing a MT nation, or at least something very close to it. Might I recommend putting your land claims on Earth, found here, instead? Other than this, accepted, and welcome aboard to Organic!

The Favour is Done What Remains of Pordish Iceland The Yamsai'an have always been stubborn, Yamsi says. He turns his head fully and looks up and down Nykat's robes. Nykat moves his lips slightly. He manages no words and only silence. The winds drone past him and a small tuft of snow accumulates on his shoulders. His time has nearly come. With a single fluid motion he hurls an ice spike at Yamsi and then, with the same momentum and continuing into a spinning maneuver, a large wall of rapidly hardening snow. But upon nearing Yamsi they are taken to an even deeper realm of cold and are stopped and come crashing down. Yamsi does not move. We're about done here, High Hunter. Yamsi says. Nykat, panting, continues attacking Yamsi with various strikes. They all fail to close and he soon becomes much too winded to continue. And the cold seems inviting. Yamsi appears to become more distant now as Nykat eyes him (his own vision becoming much more foggy). By the grace of his eternal winter, Nykat says. He sits to preserve his energy and thinks of the grandest of tundras, the Ever-Tundra. Yamsi watches him as he does this. He knows of the Ever-Tundra and its chilly expanse. He has been there before. With neither smile nor grin upon his face he walks out of the ruins of the courtyard and allows the cold to overtake Nykat. Behind him he can feel the High Hunter's life ebbing away until... The Faroe and Shetland Islands are much less populated than Iceland. Unfortunately, they also house little of any consequence for Yamsi Natynozh. He sinks the islands into the sea and makes his way towards the Azores; sprawling cities cover much of the islands and the architecture, much more modern and not truly fitting of proper Nalydian holdings, deeply disgusts him. Once more winds of the Chlümüchgrazhni gather to unleash Winter upon the realm. And they do. For what seems to be an eternity the snows and ices drown out all as they cascade through the streets and through the buildings. It is a slow death in contrast to Iceland and the other islands. But these too become barren icy wastelands. Last on Yamsi's grand tour are the Cape Verde and Canary Islands. Their resemblance to the islands of the Azores is perhaps uncanny. The guardians of culture have fallen so far, Yamsi says. None of this should be, he continues. Polynya folds her arms. Perhaps too harsh on them, she says. On the Yamsai'an? You know how long I spent fighting them, Yamsi says. I can hardly stop now. Perhaps you should, Jlokhemit calls. His voice seems to echo and a chill descends over the already frigid land. nam-Jlokhemit, Yamsi says. He bows with respect but says no more. His trident, crafted in the image of the Winter-Bringer's own, absconds from the realm. You know how Reknu and Klovnar must feel knowing you are slaughtering their creations. Yamsi straightens himself. I suppose you are right, nam-Jlokhemit, he says. My mistake. As Second Arbiter you are to do my bidding, not that of your own, Jlokhemit says. Remember this. Yamsi goes to reply but the Winter-Bringer has already left. He turns to Polynya. You knew he was coming. Polynya shrugs. You summoned his winds. You brought him here. Oh yeah... Yamsi says. His voice trails off. But there are still those islands left, he says. I wouldn't - Polynya is cut off by Yamsi who finishes the job he came to do. The last of the Pordish holdings on Orbis III are reduced to rubble in a grand icy tumult, and he steps back to admire his work. He nods, but finds that he has backed into something. Or rather, someone. Wearing the hide of a wolf and its fur-bound skull as a cap, Klovnar floats behind Yamsi. In one hand is clasped a spear, in the other - reins with half a dozen sabre-toothed wolves pulling angrily at them. They snarl and snap and give no sign of abating. Yamsi Natynozh IV the Second Arbiter of Winter and He Who Answers to Jlokhemit Himself, he begins, we meet at last. Yamsi turns around. Klovnar's pelts are similar to the Pords' own, but they are much more... Primitive in aesthetic. They seem almost as if fresh from the hunt, unlike many of which grace the shops and stores of inner Tnem-Fragg. Of course, the Pords have also largely made the transition to robes and tunics, but that is another matter entirely. nam-Klovnar, Yamsi says. To what do I owe the honour? Yamsi says quietly. Klovnar makes a motion mocking his volume but Yamsi does not repeat himself. They both know he was heard. These Pords were not yours to end, my friend. Klovnar says. Before he can reply the unwelcome pain of a spear piercing his abdomen overtakes him. The planet the space the system... They all fade away. And for the first time since he first fell cold, he is unable to move. His perception, however, remains. And with it, the searing agony of ten thousand knives being plunged into his corpse. My wolves will feast upon you for the next five hundred cycles. Perhaps then you won't mess with what is mine, Klovnar says. He turns to Polynya. If you gave him advice, it was terrible, Polynya shrugs. I said nothing of the sort, she says. But... Jlokhemit did warn him not to kill the Pord, she chuckles. And you didn't stop him? That should be the last time we let you train someone. You lost the lot draw, not me, she says. And before Klovnar can reply, Polynya is gone.

Solaris Congress and Praxius accepted. Map updated.

Kawaikini Dreadnought Kaho'olawe The realm is unfamiliar and hostile. Not much time has passed since the gods graced Kawaikini's children and saved them from oblivion. Upon this world of green fields and blue skies they brought them - their fleets and their armies - so that they could build anew. And so it was good. The Pacific, vast and unyielding, has become their playground, and civilization is slated to be crafted out of its fruitful extent. But while Kawaikini busy themselves with rebuilding upon the myriad atolls and red-and-green capped peaks of larger islands, trouble from the fabric once more stirs. A message in a foreign tongue plays for them on a strange channel... "This is Admiral Vruz Noll of the 2nd Imperial Armada speaking. We have lost all power to primary engines following a power surge that disabled primary reactors 13-33. We are on an impact course with the planet and request immediate assistance from anyone who can hear this. Our projected time until impact is twelve hours. This message will repeat until we are either rescued or help arrives. Admiral Noll out." We are picking up a signal, Pauahi. Pauahi walks from the wheel and steps down to the communications station. Play the communique again, he orders. And so the communique is played again but once more nothing can be deciphered. Pauahi frowns. Can you trace its origin? Pauahi questions. Yes, Pauahi, the one in control of communications - Akeliela - says in reply. Nobs and dials are turned with haste and notes are jotted down. Before long Akeliela is done and has the information. The message is coming from here, Akeliela says and points to a position in the void. From this ship. Scans indicate the ships seems to be in a considerable state of distress. We shall intercept them then here, claims Pauahi from behind the wheel of his ship. He eyes the void through the tiny glass windows that dot his wheelhouse and makes good on his claim; gargantuan thrusters go to work - thrumming with life - as they push the massive outrigger spaceship out and away from the gravity well of Earth and towards the incoming vessel. A message is sent out to them in reply in the high tongue of the Kawaikini..: "Your vessel appears to be in distress and threatens our holdings with its projected course. Respond and explain or soon be removed."

In Command of the Cycle Earth, PW-2 Masked by the glory of the burning local sun, a grand multiplicity of crimson-red portals explode forth into existence. By the thousands they come to dot the Pacific's tranquil skies with their splendorous magnificence - and but only moments after they beget their presence in the tall column of this blue world, ships in splendid order alight from their centres to slide into position above the myriad island chains over which their portals have brought them: tall slabs of industrial-looking armour define these craft, as do their rows of turrets housing guns with six, seven, and even eight barrels; their forms - those of outrigger ships complete with sails and skyward-reaching masts - betray their origin, that of a warfleet of the Holy Kawaikini Navy, the Battlegroup Hokulani. A navigational error on part of the Kawaikini plotters, assuaged by the supreme countenance of the gods, has brought them here. A reality that is of no relevance to the children of the Nui'ino. Without warning and with frightening rapidity, the gun-barrels of the flat-sided ships train themselves groundward and begin an apocalyptic cacophony of fire. Volcanic slagshot hurls down from these barrels to deluge the land in molten metal - but just the centres of population. Eyesores that they be, they must go, so Kawaikini's children can build anew upon the islands of this world. And of course it would hardly be proper if only aerial bombardment were to be visited upon this ground. The fire stops and the skies fall silent once more - the tones of the giant outriggers humming with industrial purpose cannot be made out from the ground. On the heels of the swift warships of the Battlegroup Hokulani, another grand array of portals emerge from nothing... And from these portals spew men and equipment: tall beasts of burden - lugging gargantuan pieces of artillery and mobile shielding equipment - and infantry, clad lightly with no visible metal armour but glistening from oils and warpaint (and mostly laden with what seem to be simple tube rifles although some appear to have nothing at all); the sounds of land battle are quick to begin even though the skies once poured death, and throughout the Pacific from Hawai'i to Saipan and Kwajalein to Samoa the tide of Kawaikini forces grows in ever-increasing number.

Application: MT/PMT - Union of Brandenburg Hansa - Historical German Empire Territory; Cantabria Province Spain FT - The Kingdom of Waikahla-Pohaku'ula - Claims: http://i.imgur.com/azfT29i.jpg This will be a colony of the main Kawaikini nation

Done.

Polynya's Visit PW-1 Universe What the hell? Why are we here? Yamsi Natynozh growls. This verse is unfamiliar. Pords don't control Uranus, or at least they didn't. You were called here by a ceremony at this shrine... It is the only one built in your honour so far, Polynya states bluntly. She points to a city down on a rocky moon. I guess they've been busy elsewhere, the Polar Herald states. She brushes a long lock of brown hair away from her face and it floats in the void. Yamsi nods. Damn him. Damn that man! he considers to himself. But for once it truly isn't the fault of the Yamsai'an. They no longer dominate Nalydian politics and Cholkük, now leading the Natynozh, probably did honour him. The Yamsai'an wouldn't interfere; the Yamsai'an and Natynozh have an uneasy alliance of sorts - they work against the growing might of Kornat Hanüch and the encroaching Zhyssians. This too Yamsi knows and shakes his head at the thought. The Pord moved into this verse, Polynya tells Yamsi, and now lives in this system known as Orbis. How... Peculiar, Yamsi replies. The UMS have also joined them, she says, remembering the name of the organization. Triskel and Maya and Brotherhood all have claims in-system. Yamsi nods. Polynya points to the various planet-systems and explains details about them. Apparently the Mri have set up shop on Orbis II and Orbis I is within their economic zone. There appears to be some sort of consternation around the general area of Orbis III and Orbis IV, whatever that might be about. Their attention eventually comes back to Uranus, to the capital of Colony Natynozh, before zooming off towards Neptune. The mortal realm seems to be much more busy than when I last was here, Yamsi notes. Polynya shrugs. It's all the same, she says. But the Pord is always up to something, she says... Not that it matters. The shambolic happenings of NS are very fractal and, for the most part, difficult to observe in their entirety. Polynya shrugs again. What a pathetic realm. Yamsi nods. I suppose so, he says. His mind drifts back to the final days before he fell cold. The UMS had practically just been formed, but there were... Anomalies - oddities he could not quite pin down. Temporal scientists throughout Imperial Nalydya at the time were working feverishly to sort out the mess but no headway was being made (something about timeline divergences or paradoxes or something...). And then Jlokhemit took him and all was made clear. Voznayte lost a bet and Yamsi Natynozh, the great Hunter-General and favourite of Voznayte, was the wager. The timeline was destroyed and reality was reset. Yamsi would become an Arbiter of Winter - the Second Arbiter - beneath only the Grand Arbiter himself. He grabs his trident out of nothingness and turns to Polynya: Is this still NS-1? No, she says. It's not... FB-1 is it..? Or MS-1? No. BB-1..? ZB-1..? C- This realm was only recently found by the Pord, she interjects. He calls it... She pauses briefly while struggling to recall the Pordish name. PW-1, she says. The races inhabiting it are still rather... Primitive. Yamsi chuckles at the thought. The Pords were once primitive - just yesterday if Polynya is to be believed (and by Amaruq's assertion, still are). Is this why Grazhni Yamsi was built here? Yamsi chuckles again - nervously, but genuinely. Polynya shrugs. Sure, she says. High Hunter Choryzhnova Kolytaq oversaw the construction of this shrine as well as the colonization of another world that bears your name... Her voice trails off into the void; Yamsi raises an eyebrow. I have no idea who that is. Polynya laughs. You wouldn't. She is Zhyssian, I believe. Yamsi's eyebrow remains raised. A Zhyssian? Overseeing the establishment of System Natynozh? The Second Arbiter turns away. Skirts incredulity, he utters. The Polar Herald can only laugh. See for yourself. Yamsi lowers his eyebrow at the comment. For a moment he sits in thought. I think I will, he finally decides. Polynya nods at the decision. He turns. A chilly distant world fades into view but it is not as Polynya implied. Massive warships float cold and dead in her orbitals and the remains of once truly massive docking facilities circle the world's equator in tens of thousands of broken sections. The planet, however, is not entirely dead; on the surface sprawl tens of billions of... Naxids, Yamsi growls. Polynya shrugs. Would you look at that. Must've recently fallen, she says. How does this even happen? Yamsi questions. Deep down he knows why, but it still is... Shocking. After all, the fleets of the VRZ are invincible, at least when compared to insects... At least as far as he witnessed back during his tenure amongst the corporeal. Yamsai'an holdings in Orbis probably had priority, Polynya says. Yamsai'an? I thought you said the capital was Grazhni Yamsi? Polynya floats slowly. There are Yamsai'an holdings on the third world in the Orbis System, she says. Yamsi frowns. Sure enough, the myriad buildings of New Yamsai stretch skyward out of the Icelandic snows. This... Looks like Earth, he says. This was defended in lieu of System Natynozh..? Why are there even Yamsai'an holdings here..? Polynya can only shrug. Pord goes where he wants to, she says. You know I - he cuts himself off. Polynya, apparently, has left. Nevermind, he says to himself. Fortunately, most of the architecture is familiar enough for him to navigate the city. Not from his having been here before (no, he's not been here before) but simply from the style and arrangement of the structures. It obviously was planned with great care and finesse. Thus he finds himself beneath the great gates before the Icelandic Palatial Villa atop which Pords with tridents march. He motions for them to open the gates. A moment passes. The gates, however, remain firmly closed. Your identification is suspect, one of the trident-wielders calls to him. Yamsi nods. I am Yamsi Natynozh IV, he calls back, Once Hunter-General of all the Natynozh, but now the Second Arbiter of Winter. No reply comes forth from the guards. They chat amongst themselves; he can overhear them speaking: "System seems to think he's Yamsi as well, but Yamsi is dead." "There's obviously an error here." "What was that about Second Arbiter?" "He's a fake, obviously, we'd know if his grave was disturbed." Yamsi says nothing to them in reply. A few more minutes pass as the guards bicker back and forth before coming to a consensus. You will not be allowed through, one says. Leave the premises. Is this not the Yamsai'an Palatial Villa for this realm? Yamsi questions. One of the guards raises an eyebrow. Tasi, he says. By the grace of his eternal winter, all the Yamsai'an and those underneath them on this world will join my Natynozh brethren in the afterlife, Yamsi says. He's insane, one of the guards says. Get him out of here before he causes a scene. Two of the trident-wielders nod. Suddenly they appear to float off of the wall to join Yamsi at ground level; closer inspection would reveal two tongues of water upon which they surf. In unison they level their tridents against Yamsi: Leave, one says with heavy force in his voice. But he says no more. Colour absconds from his face and his form takes on an icy-blue tinge; his movements are stopped and a look of horror splashes across his face for the few moments that he retains control of his facial muscles. With a dull thud his trident crashes into the snow. Yamsi walks past him without even acknowledging his presence or that of the other guard who has suffered a similar fate, or the guards on the wall who seem to have fallen victim as well. The ice of the gates of the walls part for Yamsi and he enters the courtyard of the Palatial Villa. His entrance, however, has not gone unnoticed. Off in the distance he can see High Hunter Nykat as well as a handful of other Hunters emerging through the main doors of the facility on the opposite side of the courtyard from where he is now. Yamsi takes one step forward and finds himself but a few paces from Nykat and the others. Yamsi... Natynozh? High Hunter Nykat questions. Hunter-General Yamsi Natynozh, he says. To what do we owe the pleasure? Yamsi nods as he watches Nykat step back slightly from his sudden appearance. I recently came across hundreds of millions of dead Natynozh, he says. Whose lives were apparently traded for the safety of this... Planet, he says. This... Yamsai'an Earth. Nykat nods nervously. The Naxids were indiscriminate. We couldn't defend everywhere, he says. And so you chose the lives of the Yamsai'an and of this primitive world over those of the Natynozh. That is a shame, Yamsi says. Nykat frowns. You of all people shoul - Unfortunately, now isn't the time for debate, High Hunter, Yamsi says. That your people saved the lives of those on this pitiful world is more insulting than anything else, he says. Look around you - this is Earth. The same shithole that appears in every universe, Yamsi says, and you saved it. Our defense was of the entire system, not this planet in particular, Nykat says. Minor details, Yamsi says. The Yamsai'an have been a plague ever since they came back to power, Yamsi says. I would kill you all myself if only... Yamsi's voice trails off. He shakes his head with disappointment. So much for death tempering his dislike of Hans-Ulrich's Hunters. Nykat nods. By the grace of his eternal winter, he says. Fighting the Natynozh... Is not a new concept. He adopts a fighting posture and the Hunters with him do the same. They slowly fan out to surround Yamsi who takes no motions to stop them. By the grace of his eternal winter, Yamsi calls back to Nykat. The skies begin to darken and a grand Chlümüchgrazhni erupts forth spilling snow, sleet, hail, and even larger ice projectiles in myriad directions... But none of it is aimed at either Nykat or his men. It crashes down in great sheets and the area rather rapidly becomes engulfed in a white tide killing visibility and plunging the temperature to well below what would be normal for the region. Yamsi steps forward again. To the Ever-Tundra, he says. He plunges the blunt end of the trident into the dirt and torrential snows explode out in a ring round him. Nykat shields himself from the blast, but everything else on Iceland is overtaken by the alabaster grandeur of the attack and all of the occupants flash-frozen into oblivion as the avalanche rolls over the tundra. Nykat stumbles back into a stable posture. He says nothing but still appears willing to fight... If only just.