Eternity RPC Board
11-06-2019, 08:36 PM
(This post was last modified: 10-09-2020, 12:26 AM by Seperallis.)
Chapter 1: Charon
The history of the world is a history of warfare. Man's insatiable lusts for power, glory, riches, and a myriad other ambitions have driven hundreds of millions to their untimely deaths over millennia, for the self-serving gains of a few. For countless generations have the people of the world echoed the refrain for no more war, an end to killing, peace in our times. Yet still there is conflict even as the world changes, as mankind moves into space thrust upon the winds of boundless energy and unmatched prosperity.
Mankind rises onward into an age where poverty and want - long given the blame for mankind's vices - may be snuffed on a whim by those with means, and yet still these crimes exist, and still those with the power to transform the world into a new utopia grasp greedily to their hordes and play ancient and petty "games" for power. The world changes and yearns for a real and just peace, yet these relics of a bygone age use the fruits of humanity's inheritance to enslave and corrupt, to reduce the value of life with autonomous engines of destruction to clash with little consequence to themselves and all consequence to those around them.
The soul of humanity yearns for an end to strife, yet even a decade of death has brought no change to actions of so-called "leaders." Parasites cling to the old ways of humanity's past and chain us all to a perpetual cycle of a painful, rotten, dying civilization with wars of exploitation and conquest. These engines of a bygone age must be swept aside, so that a new order may rise and lead humanity into a prosperous future.
Charon thus declares war upon the rot and decay of the old world.
The nations of the world are hereby on notice.
----- - ----- - -----
Lanlania - late Spring, 1700. Mid-day (local time)
"In any case, that's what this 'Charon' purports as their manifesto, of sorts. No concrete threat of action, no known membership... I don't think intelligence would even consider it if the message hadn't been planted within the systems of half the Union's security sections." Selma chuffed in amusement to the ding of the lift doors opening. "Can you believe, they labeled it a 'notable concern'... out of embarrassment more than anything."
Today was one of those special rare days where the public was invited into military bases to ogle the country's military hardware and earn appreciation of and support for the military by the public at large. This annual Lanlanian tradition had been started countless generations ago, a tradition that had been mostly lost for some decades before being revived again in the 80's. Today was no different; spread across several military hangers beside the base's runway was a rather large gathering of people - gate estimates gauge that this year was the largest military expo for the fourth year running - milling about between a spattering of small demonstrations and vendors' tents linking the main attractions of the fair: a scattered selection of the Lanlanian military's hardware.
Several old planes and weapons drew an enthusiastic crowd of military historians as they took pictures of and within the relics of bygone wars, and the small selection of the country's current weaponry was a perennial favorite amongst younger children especially, always wooping in delight at the heavy bulk of any Bastions on display. This year's showstopper though was the massive Hjolrun at the end of the line: cordoned off in a wide area and with armed guard posted and keeping watch, Lanlania and the Union's new and true mobile suit stole the show, evidenced by the huge crowd of onlookers with cameras in hand, as its sleek humanoid design towered meters above even the largest and heaviest of the old mobile armors on display.
Selma and Feryn received a wide view of the proceedings from within the base's flight control tower as they stepped out of the lift. From here the sea of onlookers and enthusiasts ebbed and swirled as a single living mass that buzzed at the ankle of the country's newest weapon. Already up here were a handful of photographers from the media, their many-foot long cameras peering across the field and runway with the best vantage of the proceedings. Standing to the side and talking amongst themselves were a handful of men in suits, easily recognized as generals and advisers keen on the upcoming main event of the show: a live demonstration of the new autonomous variant of the Union's mobile suit. While the the MS-02 Hjolrun manned mobile suit had been in Lanlanian service for some months now, this unmanned version had only reached service in recent weeks. This public demonstration not only served as a public show, but would also be used as a demonstration of capability to Lanlania's and the Union's rivals.
The announcer over the PA system couldn't be heard from this distance, but it seemed apparent that this demonstration of the country's newest weapon was about to begin by the throng of people working their way to temporary seating along the flightline's edge. Selma remarked to that effect, "Just in time, the autonomous weapon demonstration should begin in a couple minutes. Would you like a seat, Your Grace?"
The few photographers in the room noticed the country's leader in the room, and turned their cameras inward toward him during this lull in events.
The history of the world is a history of warfare. Man's insatiable lusts for power, glory, riches, and a myriad other ambitions have driven hundreds of millions to their untimely deaths over millennia, for the self-serving gains of a few. For countless generations have the people of the world echoed the refrain for no more war, an end to killing, peace in our times. Yet still there is conflict even as the world changes, as mankind moves into space thrust upon the winds of boundless energy and unmatched prosperity.
Mankind rises onward into an age where poverty and want - long given the blame for mankind's vices - may be snuffed on a whim by those with means, and yet still these crimes exist, and still those with the power to transform the world into a new utopia grasp greedily to their hordes and play ancient and petty "games" for power. The world changes and yearns for a real and just peace, yet these relics of a bygone age use the fruits of humanity's inheritance to enslave and corrupt, to reduce the value of life with autonomous engines of destruction to clash with little consequence to themselves and all consequence to those around them.
The soul of humanity yearns for an end to strife, yet even a decade of death has brought no change to actions of so-called "leaders." Parasites cling to the old ways of humanity's past and chain us all to a perpetual cycle of a painful, rotten, dying civilization with wars of exploitation and conquest. These engines of a bygone age must be swept aside, so that a new order may rise and lead humanity into a prosperous future.
Charon thus declares war upon the rot and decay of the old world.
The nations of the world are hereby on notice.
----- - ----- - -----
Lanlania - late Spring, 1700. Mid-day (local time)
"In any case, that's what this 'Charon' purports as their manifesto, of sorts. No concrete threat of action, no known membership... I don't think intelligence would even consider it if the message hadn't been planted within the systems of half the Union's security sections." Selma chuffed in amusement to the ding of the lift doors opening. "Can you believe, they labeled it a 'notable concern'... out of embarrassment more than anything."
Today was one of those special rare days where the public was invited into military bases to ogle the country's military hardware and earn appreciation of and support for the military by the public at large. This annual Lanlanian tradition had been started countless generations ago, a tradition that had been mostly lost for some decades before being revived again in the 80's. Today was no different; spread across several military hangers beside the base's runway was a rather large gathering of people - gate estimates gauge that this year was the largest military expo for the fourth year running - milling about between a spattering of small demonstrations and vendors' tents linking the main attractions of the fair: a scattered selection of the Lanlanian military's hardware.
Several old planes and weapons drew an enthusiastic crowd of military historians as they took pictures of and within the relics of bygone wars, and the small selection of the country's current weaponry was a perennial favorite amongst younger children especially, always wooping in delight at the heavy bulk of any Bastions on display. This year's showstopper though was the massive Hjolrun at the end of the line: cordoned off in a wide area and with armed guard posted and keeping watch, Lanlania and the Union's new and true mobile suit stole the show, evidenced by the huge crowd of onlookers with cameras in hand, as its sleek humanoid design towered meters above even the largest and heaviest of the old mobile armors on display.
Selma and Feryn received a wide view of the proceedings from within the base's flight control tower as they stepped out of the lift. From here the sea of onlookers and enthusiasts ebbed and swirled as a single living mass that buzzed at the ankle of the country's newest weapon. Already up here were a handful of photographers from the media, their many-foot long cameras peering across the field and runway with the best vantage of the proceedings. Standing to the side and talking amongst themselves were a handful of men in suits, easily recognized as generals and advisers keen on the upcoming main event of the show: a live demonstration of the new autonomous variant of the Union's mobile suit. While the the MS-02 Hjolrun manned mobile suit had been in Lanlanian service for some months now, this unmanned version had only reached service in recent weeks. This public demonstration not only served as a public show, but would also be used as a demonstration of capability to Lanlania's and the Union's rivals.
The announcer over the PA system couldn't be heard from this distance, but it seemed apparent that this demonstration of the country's newest weapon was about to begin by the throng of people working their way to temporary seating along the flightline's edge. Selma remarked to that effect, "Just in time, the autonomous weapon demonstration should begin in a couple minutes. Would you like a seat, Your Grace?"
The few photographers in the room noticed the country's leader in the room, and turned their cameras inward toward him during this lull in events.