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[LSDF] Dissidents - Homefront Worries


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They say time heals all wounds, that time is the great doctor that helps a person or people get over the past and forget the wrongs done to them, but the Lorath always remembered. They had been forgotten once before and they wouldn’t be forgotten again. Thankfully, it seemed to not be the case with their current predicament or current arrangments with the Nepleslian government. They had needed a home and Nepleslia had opened up to them after the great Exodus had ripped half the race away to another galaxy. They had lost their ruling family, a good deal of their higher government, and yet the people were still comfortable. They had chosen new house leaders easily enough, the Llamnel, New Tur’Listans, and even Fyunnen had decided on leaders who still answered to the higher-ups in the Nepleslian governments yet still, they were the ones who led the day to day for the Lorath.

The Fyunnen had stuck with their old leader, Fate, who had stayed behind after her rebellion, though she stayed mostly to her office and out of the spotlight to make things as smooth as possible. The Llamnel and New Tur’Listans both had decided to elect some of their more powerful members to make sure the power and security were well established.

Amongst the settlements of Gryzciki, a small co-op that had a multitude of the houses living together for ease of the LSDF to keep their members together. The largest concentration, as usual, being the Fyunnen, there were New Tur’Listans and Llamnel there in various states of uniform among the more civilian looking people who wore no uniform. Here and there people went about their day in whatever way they needed to, whether that was bringing food and supplies or simply visiting those they knew to drop things off and just say hey.

Most of the on-duty members though were being called into a meeting. It was mostly for the daily assignments for those that were active that day and a review of recent intel that had been obtained recently, at the front of the meeting room a woman stood. No overwhelming amount of armor on save for a few pieces of metal sewn under the leather of her shirt to help cover vital areas, her hair rest down her back about midway done into a single thick braid with two bangs that hung down over her face, the tips of both dyed red to honor her house. On the podium before her rested a datapad with a few different screens on it. For now, she waited for the others to join her in the briefing room so she could go over the daily tasks.
Before the door had opened, footfalls heavy and metallic could be heard pounding against the floor. They stopped abruptly; Scumcleanser quietly cursed to himself. He wasn't on the asteroid bases anymore; the floors here probably weren't reinforced for the gigantic automata that still populated the re-purposed prison colony. It drew some stares, more than his titanic and somewhat grotesque appearance already did, but that was of little consequence compared to the resonating sound. On his first day here and one of the last things he'd want to do would be footing a bill for floor repairs.

An advantage of being a machine was that his face was impossible to read and he could play off the reduced noise of his footfalls smoothly.

He wasn't sure sometimes why he took the job but somehow, at any point, he never found it in him to say no. It was the money really; he didn't like these people from what he read of them. Their Nepleslian friends did not seem much better. Nobody needed to know that, not now especially. Brushing a few bits of dust off of his metallic form, he leaned forth and shifted sideways as the colossal freespacer awkwardly shuffled through the door, standing back up to his colossal 11 foot height. His head quickly turned down to look at the woman. Multiple camera eyes scanned the room; somehow he didn't think the chairs would stand much of a chance under his hefty reign.

"Awaiting orders and information. No need for a seat." His voice sawed and buzzed. "I can record the information if needed."


Game Master
Arraak'Viro'Crysi 'Shaman' Fyunnen was on duty for this meeting but was a little annoyed as she never liked being away from helping people that needed some medical services. As she headed to the briefing room her boots clicked against the floor and her SAW uniform showed everyone what she was and she was okay with that. She made sure that her hair was tied into a small ponytail on the way to make herself look a little more presentable.

Shaman walked into the room and looked at the Freespacer and the other Lorath, she looked a little annoyed as she walked over to the table and sat down, her quite tall frame looking a little comical in the seat "So what is this meeting for, I would rather get back to my post, today we are short staffed and people keep coming in looking for aid."

Charmaylarg Dufrain

Submissions Reviewer
FM of Nepleslia
Game Master
Briefing Room

A figure of small stature stole quietly into the briefing room seemingly last of all. Director Ree'Lena "Adept" Occhestan harried her way quietly into the room and shuffled around the large spacer wordlessly (How cumbersome they could be when not in their synthetic avatars!) and past the SAW boot-licker (Home not even a day and clearly she could see it was still as easy to pick out a Fyunnen by how easily annoyed they always looked~) to take a seat towards the rear of the room as she wasn't technically part of the LSDF and found it prudent to stay in the back.

Short of stature but not completely in size, Adept stuck our slightly (Though not as much as that space, And not even a partisan but a custom automota?) in her NAM burnsuit coveralls tinged DiOn green and faded with use and poor patch jobs from burns and tears as the upper half was tied casually around her waste to expose an in-shape if pale Occhestan (Though many would rather be called New Tur’Listans...) with short almost radioactive green and a dull expression as she seemed to slink back into her datapad already lost in thought as she recorded in long bulletin list streaks ideas and forumulae for her ongoing projects.

A Designer and now leader in the field of voidcraft design and distribution, Adept had reluctantly taken a liaison position with the LSDF on behalf of NAM by request of the senate to study and retrofit Lorathi designs and technologies into practical use within DIoN technologies.

Nobody seemed to understand you couldnt just mash two differing technology bases with each other without first hand extensive knowledge of...

She shook her head, Her constant wandering thoughts getting the better of her. She was to integrate with the LSDF in all things save certain exceptions. Which meant boring daily meetings, Training, Drills, And other tedious and pointless tasks by request of some (Likely Fyunnen still stuck in the past who should get with the times already!) who stated that anyone "Staying on my base will perform the same daily routines, No slackers, No exceptions."

She hadn't even been allowed to sleep in and had to wake up at sunrise!

With an audible sigh much louder than she had intended, Adept peeked away from her datajockey to see what the old-guard just standing there wanted...


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♫ Time Marches On by Rachel Currea

Planet Gryzciki, Briefing Room

When the one called 'Adept' took a seat towards the back of the room, she could spy a tall Lorathi woman already sitting there with her legs crossed, watching the members of the planetary defense group slowly fill the chamber with a pair of shifting hazel eyes set in a somber, pale face. Her alabaster hair had a spiky quality to it no doubt due to some animalistic influences, and it sat on her shoulders loosely. It almost seemed if Aran'ya "Widow" Lycosa Lmanel, as she was known, was waiting for someone in particular to pass through the door... though she shot curious glances around the room if someone caught her staring overly long, her mannerisms slightly aloof and guarded. In her hands she was toying with a glob of what appeared to be a colorful amalgamation of Pico-Jelly, presumably as a form of relaxation of tensions and passing the time until the briefing would formally begin.

The black LDSF enlisted uniform she wore showed definite signs of age, likely taken out of storage for the occasion of a recent voluntary reactivation no doubt. The three stripes of Trooper 'rank' it was adorned with also came with several campaign patches and armbands, most notably those identifying her as a scientific staff of the last true exploratory scoutship of the Matriarchy before the Exodus, the LSDF Val'ta. There was no doubting Aran'ya had seen many things in her long lifetime in service to her country, though she had her share of infamy as well... perhaps why she was keeping to herself for the last few days since arriving planetside, her sharp mind dealing with the old, hurtful emotions welling up inside her heart being among the Occestians of this sector. Yes, "Widow" didn't mind watching and waiting for events to come to her instead of aggressively seeking them out; Like her predatory Tarantis spider bond, this Lmanel was an all too patient hunter when she wished to be...
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More and more filed into the room along with the other three, all ready for their briefing and information for the day. When the door finally closed and they were all seated, all around there were about thirty people in the room total. Nepleslians, Fyunnen, New Tur'Listans, Llamnel, anyone attached to this particular base where present if they were not already on duty. The Fyunnen woman to the front cleared her throat to calm any conversations in the room before she projected several screens behind herself. Mostly just lists on duties for the day, squads to be assembled, and small briefings they needed to go over. Much of the day laid out was simple, mostly work to be done around the base, vehicles down that needed to be repaired or upgraded, daily patrols, until it fell to the last bit for the last group left. The Fyunnen found herself finding them with her eyes before she spoke.

"Adept, Widow, Shaman, Scumcleanser, and Hon-... Oh, Honeybee. You four will be with Breaker and head north for reconnaissance and surveillance. There have been reports from the locals about strange sightings and I want information on what is out there. Your task is to locate these disturbances, asses the threat level, and report back. As there will only be five of you, I do not want you to engage unless absolutely necessary. You will have two hours to gather your needs and get to the vehicle pool to move out. With that, this meeting is over, you have your tasks, move out and may Voxphine watch over you."

With little else, the woman stood and made her way out from a side door in the room. Those in the room would be left to their devices to find their way to their assignments.

~~Two Hours Later~~

At the vehicle pool, a large Fyunnen woman rested against one of the Ferryman Shuttles that were mostly used for in atmosphere transportation now dressed in the standard LSDF field uniform, Breaker leaned back against the transport entrance and idly played with one of bangs that framed the side of her face. Varying shades of red cascaded through her shoulderblade length hair, which on anyone under the seven and a half foot tall woman would feel much longer. Yellow eyes looked over the vehicle pool to see just where her squad was at, ready to leave for the moment.
Scumcleanser did not appear any different but if one looked closer, there was something different about his near-featureless face. A few more black dot like objects protruding just slightly from the faux-skeletal matter. They looked like stains but they were too circular. The small eye-implants were simple; they were there to enhance his sight, something he somewhat lacked due to having been created for often dark and cramped cavernous conditions. He had figured before arriving he should bring something to improve this field given that he wasn't imagining dense urban settings this far out.

"I suppose I'll be mobile cover for this operation." Came his trebly static voice. At 12 feet tall, he would be very hard to miss.


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Widow arrived at the vehicle pool meeting place in good time, giving the much taller Fyunnen that was waiting by the Ferryman shuttle a formal, if a little slow, salute. The soldier was now appearing much different than her dispassionate self from the previous time in the briefing room, kitted out with a full assortment of equipment packs befitting a field medic of the ex-Matriarchy forces. There were, however some other more curious canisters one could spot on a bandolier above her Stalwart Enforcer pistol belt and Searing Blade sheath that were definitely not standard issue. Most were largely empty, presumably to encapsulate samples for scientific study -- though upon her wrists were a pair of woven stonethread and metallic bracelets that contained a ring of tubes built into them, the chambers filled with strangely colored fluids whose purpose remained a mystery.

The Lmanel scientist took a moment to affix a Peeper Sensor Monocle to her left eye with an adhesive pico-jelly strip and calibrate its display against the ambient background spectrum, as well as begin charging the photovoltaic battery in the light. The green lens reflected the image of the hulking Freespacer that was a short distance away as she did so, prompting the pale Lorath to smile slightly at Scumcleanser's array of cameras and speak in accented Trade. "You give off an interesting variety of energy signatures... nothing like the Type 3 biological 'Spacers I had previously met long ago." It was more a statement than a question, but still a way to break the ice with the automata. "Do you have one of those long numerical designations as well?"
"Simulation of vat-grown flesh - faux-biological machine muscle. Repurposed to breathe life into our bodies" He did not turn to face her but the cameras swivelling surely did. "The miners who created me never liked those. I'm thankful I'll never have to recite one."

Slowly, his systems scanned her however they could. Lens narrowed as he began to notice something unusual about her physiology; something that didn't seem native to her body. Traces of something his systems couldn't analyse; a biological graft was the closest he could think of but that didn't even begin to explain the strange data. Now he turned towards her, the camera-eyes held in place as the rest of his body now faced her.

"You are more than you appear yourself. It is not cybernetics; what augmentation have you used?"


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Widow listened to Scumcleanser's explanation with a raised eyebrow. "Purposed for mining, is it? A long way from the dusty shafts, you are. But we Lorath also dwelled in caverns once long ago. But, just like us, I can see you are strong and capable and have risen out of the dark... and I respect that." Her pair of black feathery, almost shiny vestigal wings fluttered once near her back as the Trooper realized she was being scanned in turn, and she found the tone of his perplexed inquiry somewhat amusing. "Mmm...Like what you see? The augmentation you sense is a deep spiritual bond of Lmanel caste to an animal that affects our genetics... allowing for a practitioner of the Way of Nature to shift and mold their physiology in accordance with that chosen creature's traits."

As she spoke these words, the pale Aranya's shifting hazel pupils began to dilate and enlarge, as her whole eyes became faceted versions of themselves that reflected a rainbow of colors. Her skin began to roughen and take on a texture approaching chitinous shell, and her relatively loose hair went rigid as a thousand spikes jutting from her skull. It appeared to the automata that the relatively human-looking female's head was now replaced by a decidey insectoid version of the same, her teeth enlargening to fangs that looked to drip poison. When Widow next spoke her voice has a harsh chittering tone to it, as she smiled slightly through her maw. "You sssshould ssssee me whennnn I'm annngry..."