• Nobles of Null is a forum based roleplay site where sci-fi and magic collide. Here, Earth remains fractured and divided despite humanity reaching out to the stars. Worse still, the trans-human slaves of one major power have escaped, only to establish their own Empire, seething with resentment at abuses of the past. Even the discovery of aliens, though medieval in development, has failed to rally these squabbling children of Earth together with its far darker implications. Worse still, is the discovery of the impossible - magic. Practiced by the alien locals, nearly depleted and therefore rare, its reality warping abilities remains abstract and distant to the general populace. All the while, unseen in the darkness of space, forces from without threaten to press in. For those with eyes opened by insight, it is clear that an era is about to end, and that a new age will dawn.

Chapter 1: Homecoming

"We'll be heading to the Yasny system." Ulrike explained as they stepped out of the shuttle, frowning as she and the Lancers walked towards the checkpoint. "An incident happened there where Soyuz and Hawking leadership literally caught in the blast zone, the GDW metaphorically so. Details are fuzzy, but it looks like a bomb blew up in the two parties' faces, and they're blaming us for it. As much as I hate to work on behalf of authoritarian communists and cyborg terrorists, the GDW's international standing is at stake, so we're getting sent over to cooperate in the investigation. With our old Baudry-class out of our hands, we'll be operating a Maurus-class instead. Smaller, but should still be workable."

They stopped in front of a gate with an operator in a CSC uniform managing things from a transparent, cylindrical island. Three marines in IVAS' stood outside of the island wielding standard issue assault rifles. Their facial expressions were covered by their opaque face plates, surrounding the group. "Identity confirmation, cybernetic and bio-modification records." The marine with a cup of coffee painted on his face plate plainly stated.

"Of course." Eberhard handed a datapad to one of the marines, who slid it to the operator standing in the island. As the operator entered the data into his computer, the gate whirled, rotating scanners moving robotically to configure itself to the Lancers' claimed modifications to their bodies. Giving a nod back to the marines, they herded the Lancers through the gate. A green light flashed and the gate beeped with each member passing through. The coffee faced marine followed them through the gate, then nodded. "You're good to go." He plainly stated again, before returning to his post, leaving the Lancers to their own devices.

"... Anyways." Ulrike continued on from her previous train of thought, checking her data pad. "Our ship finished assembly two hours ago. Looks like it's being moved towards launch bay Charlie-7."

They were now standing in a long hallway with multiple, open bulkheads with two railways in the middle, spanning hundreds of meters on both ends. Across the railway was a wall of transparent aluminum, looking over a massive, underground shipyard. The most effective piece of CSC propaganda, as the marines half joked. The Lancers could watch as the modular ships of the GDW were assembled and disassembled in real time, laid down horizontally as robotic arms and tracks moved entire modules into place, first an engine module, then a command module, then a picket tower. Completed vessels were then stood upright, vertically, before moved to their launch bays on rails, while other vessels were rolled in for disassembly instead.
 
Žana was being close to the group and following their instructor she was looking at the people who went by and all. As she heard their ship was now coming along she was pretty interested to see it and since this will also be her first mission againts cyborg terrorists? Overall she was confident everything will go well just dont act dumb. Atm she was still silent till someone asks a question.
 
Renee listened intently, furrowing her brows as she wracked her mind for any information that she thought she might already have about particular groups that would do this sort of thing. The mention of the Maurus caused Renee to frown, but like Ulrike said, it would be workable. She just wasn't used to operating with them. Maybe someone else would be - one could hope, Renee thought to herself. Allowing that train of thought to finish, Renee turned her attention back to the incident itself. It sounded interesting, and Renee was sure that it would be a good first case as a Lancer. As long as people could agree with her interesting way of conducting herself whilst on op, it would all go swimmingly. But, that was Commander Copperhead talking, and she was no longer Commander Copperhead.

As the group stopped by the island, Renee smirked at the coffee cup man, appreciating the decal on the face plate. It wasn't quite her striking snake, but it was fun. She always like to speculate why each person had the face plate that they did, but it nearly always involved a lot of staring and that did tend to rub people up the wrong way. With the modification check completed, Renee gave the marines a small and almost imperceptible nod before hearing the customary affirming beep that she was, in fact, not carrying anything suspicious.

Janvier turned her attention back to Ulrike as she continued to explain the mission and what was happening. As they entered the hallway, Renee didn't turn her head but let her eyes flick to look at all of the bulkheads before stopping to gaze at the huge shipyard. She had heard of it, but of course it was quite secret, so she had never been down here. It told Renee that the Lancers were had a little more power than she had previously had, and it filled her with a little buzz that she would have liked to have called pride, but was most likely an electrical fizz of her superiority complex.

"What is the ETA for launch, ma'am?" Renee asked Ulrike, hands clasped behind her back as if she was standing stiffly at ease. Her greatcoat scrunched slightly behind her hands, but as it caught, it revealed her typical ensemble of a black turtleneck and slim-flitting black cargo pants. The only thing slightly different from usual was how the pockets of her trousers did not seem to be full with bits and bobs.
 
Caleb watched the machines assembling the ships through the bulkheads. This was the sort of thing that he had never seen before, and so he was supremely interested. He stopped for a moment, catching up with the rest of the group after looking at one of the machines stall for a second, before grabbing the next piece on the line and attaching it. Even here, it was extremely loud, the constant whirring, and buzzing of welders, attaching things.

Caleb caught up to Ulrike and Renee just in time to overhear them. "Yeah, can't argue with the line of questioning. It's about two weeks to Yasny, if I'm not mistaken, should give us ample time to go over the details, and figure out a game plan" Caleb walked beside Renee, just trying to be part of the conversation, and the planning process
 
Why is this on the GDW? Bee thought, the armchair strategist in her questioning the concept. What would we have to gain? I mean, I could maybe see the AU doing something underhanded like that. But the GDW? Nah. Must have some pretty good evidence to pin it on the GDW though.

“We were kinda bouncing off the walls in the old ship, so having a smaller ship makes sense,” she said, shrugging as they made their way through the shipyard. “Hope we didn’t trade any firepower, just in case.”
 
žana just looks and speaks up "well hope the ship won't be TOO small for me, haha I don't wanna get stepped on all the time or worse but guess I can be careful" she said in a sarcastic tone, still she was close to the group.
 
"24 hours, so you'll have time to do whatever you need to on Luna before we leave. And please, call me Ulrike when we're not in combat." Ulrike replied with a smile first to Renee. "It'll be a little small." She winked at Zana as they boarded another shuttle to head towards their launch bay.

The Charlie-7 launch bay was a long, vertical tube, metal paneling covering up the lunar crust underneath. A transparent atmosphere filled tube extended forward to their ship as the Lancers walked towards it, allowing them to witness their vessel lit dimly by spotlights. Like all CSC vessels, the ship was modularly built. An irregular, octagonal engine with twin nozzles sat at the bottom, making up over a third of the ship's 60 meter height. The Lancers walked into the command module, owning a cross section of a four-pointed stars but with the points greatly flattened for surface area for airlocks, weapon, and drone hatches. Finally, at the top was the Grau Lancers' own unique action module: an open launch bay cradling a drop pod on one side, before tapering off at the very end.

The entire corvette-sized ship was painted dark grey with white accents. A cartoonish emblem of a high-medieval knight with a lance can be seen one side. One the edge of one of the command module's protrusions was written "Home Two" in English and German. "Daheim Zwei".

"Welcome home! For the next foreseeable months anyways." Ulrike threw her hands up in the light gravity as they passed through the airlock into the tall storage bay of the ship, taking up the entirety of one of the protrusions.

"Indeed, welcome home." A stranger's voice came through. To both of the Graus' astonishment, a figure in a well made military uniform walked through the opposite airlock of the ship. A Hispanic figure, tall, paler than his counterparts on Earth, his otherwise short, black hair sporting a sliver of white: a man in his sixties or seventies by 24th century standards. Admiral Vencencio. He was all over the news in last year's rather ill-fated international summit where the only thing apparently accomplished was welcoming the Kingdom of Vice and Virtue back into the human community... as the four superstates traded barbs while the Daqin Empire sat back and laughed.

"Sorry for the surprise visit." The admiral smiled politely as Eberhard and Ulrike saluted. "The stakes are too great, which is why I personally came to speak. You're my ride up to the Njord as well." He chuckled, then looked at the rest of the Lancers. "So, you all up to the task?"
 
“Don’t think we’ll be stepping on each other,” Bee said as they walked into the Daheim Zwei, to Žana and shrugging. “I mean, half the time we’ll be in zero g anyway.”

She would have continued to be Captain Obvious, but she was interrupted first by Ulrike, then by the Admiral. She took a moment to decide whether to salute, then mentally shrugged and saluted, before settling into a parade rest. “Pardon if I’m out of turn, Admiral,” she said, “but I’m actually still waiting to learn the details on the task at hand, sir.”
 
Žana now saw what looks like to be the higher up and since she saw Bee salute she also did a quick salute. "Uniform? Oh right I still need one probably" she then looks towards bee again as she spoked with the admiral.
 
Renee's eyes flicked to Caleb as their gaits matched, affording him a concise nod at his statement. Hmm. He seemed to be trying, Renee noticed, although she still couldn't shake the feeling of distrust that permeated her nerves. Historical bias, she supposed, finally looking back towards Ulrike with a slight swish of the tail of her greatcoat. 24 hours... long enough to water her tree and threaten instruct her neighbour on how to care for it. Alternatively... she could just bring it on ship. Renee weighed up the options before diverting her attention from the plant and back into the conversation, just in time to hear Ulrike's wish for Renee to call her by her first name. An embarrassed flush crept over her face, with her usual paleness only accentuating the crimson blush tainting her cheeks. "Yes, ma'a- Ulrike," she answered curtly, with a small nod.

Janvier kept a note of Zana and Bee's words, choosing not to react. She wasn't too worried about having smaller quarters - she'd been locked in many a shuttle on the way to missions, with no communications other than a daily check-in - but she did wonder, like Bee, about the firepower. Of course, the shuttle wasn't vital to the on-ground fighting, but it was always handy to have a backup to act as a deterrent, or to provide a final resort of bombardment in the case of a drastic mission failure. Whilst the latter had never happened to Janvier on a mission, it wasn't unheard of within the terrorism units of the CSC, and those who did end up using ship firepower unnecessarily on missions were harshly punished - Command made sure they suffered for the rest of the career, even if it had been a matter of life-or-death. They'd rather people died than make the GDW and CSC look bad, Renee mused as she stepped into yet another shuttle.

As the Lancers arrived at the secondary launch bay, Renee felt a smile begin to form on her face at the sight of the ship, but tried to fight it back by looking towards the ground, focusing on as many people's shoes as she could. Daheim Zwei. She murmured it under her breath, her Alsatian accent seamlessly adapting to the German pronunciation. To an untrained listener, it would have sounded as if Renee had suddenly become German.

Months. Ulrike mentioned months. Renee squirmed slightly - she would definitely be bringing her bonsai tree now, and she didn't particularly care if her botanic obsession was picked up on by the others. She had already become accustomed to the slight change in gravity, having experienced this with every mission, but it didn't stop her head from swimming as she snapped it up towards the new voice, instantly recognising the man as Admiral Vencencio. She'd seen him plastered all over the news, and of course she had kept up with it - she had to as a Commander. A prickle of distaste shot up her spine as he spoke - another bureaucrat, it seemed like. She hated them all, regardless of their redeeming features. In typical Janvier-style antagonism, the French national had to fight back the urge to greet the Admiral in Chinese, as if to rub salt into his Daqinese-shaped wound. Maybe another time, when the stakes weren't this high. Instead, Janvier settled for not saluting - she wasn't in uniform, after all. She grimaced as Bee and Zana saluted, now feeling as if she was being unnecessarily antagonistic. Tant pis.

As the Admiral looked around at the Lancers, Renee locked his gaze with hers, attempting to keep it up without blinking for as long as she could - some sort of pseudo-dominance, as one of the occupational health psychiatrists had one said in Renee's evaluation. Naturally, Renee had taken umbridge to that, even though she had found herself agreeing with it. Bee's address to the Admiral snapped Renee from her thoughts and she nodded in agreement - of course, they hadn't been able to speak of the mission before, but now they were in a secure location. Renee looked between Ulrike, Eberhard and Vencencio expectantly, hands still clasped firmly behind her back.
 
Caleb smiled at Renee's near trip of words in regards to Ulrike, and their blush, but aside from the slight smile, he gave no response at it. He doubted though that Ulrike would afford him the same level of kinship, not any time in the near future. She had made it abundantly clear how she felt about Caleb and the things he had done. At least Eberhard was friendly towards him, even if it was just a façade, it was still appreciated.

He looked in awe upon the ship. It had been a while since he had been in a ship. Not a particularly long time, in regards to the actual passage of it, but far too long as far as Caleb was concerned. It wasn't as big as the ships he had previously served on, but he was used to serving and staying in in cramped quarters. Both in his years as a recruit, and during his short stint in prison. It would do. He was hoping to spend most of his time in or near the cockpit, he wasn't sure if anyone else was trained to actually fly, so he was hoping it was going to be part of his duties aboard it.

Upon the arrival of the Admiral, Caleb began to panic. Man thoughts racing through his head. What's he doing here? Is he here to take me back? Was there something wrong with the paperwork? Fuck! He hoped beyond hope that was not the case, but decided that based on the fact that there were no MP's with him, it was less likely to be the case. A single bead of sweat dripped down his forehead, and he saluted once he was closer in order to wipe away the sweat that had accumulated on his head. Afterwards, he stood at parade rest. When the admirals eyes fall on Caleb, he meets his eyes, not antagonizing in his stare, but determined. Hoping the Admiral would not see the fear that lay right below the surface.
 
Jamison took one look at the ships realtively smaller door and groaned internaly as he remembered the back pain he got from the too short ships corridors, one of few items he procured for this trip was some camping equipment since the bunks on these infernal ships were also too small. He bent down at the hips and just fit through the door when he saw the admiral, deciding that whatever this was going to be about was well above his pay grade he gave a cramped salute and took the just big enough stairway down the ship to find a cargo bay to set up camp in.
 
"At ease, marines. Soldiers? Ms. Grau, what do you call your employees?" The Admiral asked Ulrike as he waved his hand amiably.

"Lancers." Ulrike lowered her salute.

"Very nice. Lancers. A very honorable title born out of a not so honorable time." The Admiral chuckled. "To answer your question, Lancer," He turned to Beatrix. "You will be working with the American Union rebels known as the Magnetic Assembly."

Ulrike and Eberhard looked at each other, then looked back at the Admiral with raised eyebrows. "We were not informed of this arrangement, sir." Ulrike replied with a clear displeasure in her voice. "I thought we would simply be interrogating the terrorists for information and cooperating with Yasny forces."

"That is still partially correct," The admiral nodded, "But we've come to believe there are the untrustworthy in both the GDW and the Soyuz. Thus, the Soyuz are also pushing out their own independent investigation team. You two will be cooperating with the Magnetic Assembly. What information we have on them shows that they are a cold culture more impervious to outside influence than other entities. Ironically, these rebels are the most likely to give you an objective truth."

The rest of the Lancers could see the unabated displeasure on Ulrike's face. "Independent?"

"You'll be receiving minimal aid from the GDW to minimize exposure. We'll be providing you an initial allotment of funds that you will use for your duration in the Yasny system. I will be escorting the GDW delegation into the system aboard the Fjord, and you are to remain in our shadow upon entrance, then retain a low profile afterwards. Your first task will be to link up with your Soyuz counterparts and the Magnetic Assembly member first."
 
Žana casually listening now what to expect on the task tho she didnt expect helping rebels but hey if that's what the higher ups tell her to do she will do it, tho she will be careful on this.
 
Caleb visibly calmed himself, letting out a sigh. He didn't realize that he had been holding his breath through the initial parts of the exchange. Lancer sounded right. Lancer Gellar didn't exactly roll off the tongue, but he could live with that. At least being in Magnetic Assembly space it was unlikely they would run into anyone who knew who Gellar was right off the hop, so that was a small blessing.

Objective truth? Not likely. Not without some snooping of their own, low profile in this case meaning as close to undetected as possible. Being independent on the other hand meant that in the even the lancers failed, or did something the GDW didn't like, they could wash their hands of us, and get away free. No paper trail. No Evidence.

It took a lot to keep his mouth shut, but thankfully, Caleb managed it. This was bullshit, and they all knew it. At least Ulrike and him could agree on that,
 
Renee noted Caleb's sigh with intrigue, before focusing on the world shared between Ulrike, Eberhard and the Admiral. They seemed confused, naturally, as did many of the Lancers. The mention of an independent operation had indeed thrown many of them, including Renee. Slipping back into her Commander Copperhead mentality without even thinking, she verbally approached the commander.

"So, sir," she began, the address laced with obvious fake pleasantries, "you're leaving us to face any and all consequences alone with no safety net to fall back on in order to keep the GDW's international and interspatial reputation?" Renee spoke bluntly, as if the statement wasn't meant to be rude, but was in fact a genuine inquiry. As if to top it off, she added a little smile at the end.
 
Untrustworthy elements in the GDW? Beatrix thought with a frown. That’s concerning. Makes it more probable that someone in the GDW did something dumb. Guess there’s a good reason we’re going after all.

“Wait,” she said, after pondering the admiral’s comments, “Sir, are you saying that this might have been a false flag operation?”
 
Jamison did stop for a moment on his way down the stairs when he heard just who they'd be working with on this mission. He thought it over for a minute and decided that the vast majority of what they were saying was above his paygrade once again. He was the grunt, his superiors knew what they were doing, and if they didn't he'd hunker down until they thought of something.

Taking a few more steps he went to find a cargo bay to set up camp in.
 
"Affirmative." The Admiral replied to Beatrix, nodding. "Details are still sparse, given the Soyuz being the Soyuz, but what they've claimed against us suggests someone disguised themselves as GDW proper to carry out the attempted assassination on Soyuz and Hawking leadership. It looks like it worked out pretty well too, since the Soyuz is convinced we did it, which leads me to my next point,"

He turned to look at Renee. "Ms. Grau here can give you further details on what it means to be a private contractor. You're given freedom on how you operator in exchange for less security. Let's just put it that way." His tone turned somber, contrasted against his previous, more humored demeanor. "But no, leaving you to the wolves is not the primary reason to keep you independent. CSC has determined that there are bad actors that have infiltrated the ranks of the GDW, perhaps even deeper than our worst estimates. In the event that CSC itself becomes compromised, you must carry on the investigation, which is why we chose the Grau Lancers to conduct this operation in the first place."

Ulrike and Eberhard had their eyebrows knit tight. "And do we expect our counterparts to think similarly?" Eberhard asked.

"We only have their promise." The Admiral simply replied.
 
'Someone' disguised as the GDW was a fairly vague judgement, with Renee frowning at the answer. They really had no information to go by apart from what Soyuz had claimed, and it left the ex-officer feeling incredibly uncomfortable. In her career, surveillance was key, with every tiny detail about a suspect, terror cell or contact being known and fully available to her and the officers under her command. A sigh escaped her lips, one that she regretted instantly, straightening her back.

As the Admiral addressed her, Renee broke eye contact to look towards the shoulder of whoever was stood next to her, frowning intently. There was a good reason for their abandonment, but it didn't make Renee feel any more comfortable. A thought popped into her head - how far could they trust the Admiral? Of course, they had his support, but they fundamentally knew nothing about this man other than what he was presenting and what was aired from the conference.
 
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