[DATA SECURED--.... [PARCEL FOUND - TRANSMITTING].........
---- -- -{ INBOUND TRANSMISSION }- -- ----
COMM ID----------Jonathan Kalh -------------------------------Battlegroup Scarabeaus
RECEIVER ID----The Kingdom of Gallia -------------------------------Gallia
ENCRYPTION Impenetrable
*Unreachable unless you are the recipient*
Where do I begin... Your war with Sirius has caused a lot of destruction and death, your movements and actions has shown nothing but savagery when it comes to fighting your opponents. You view virtually everyone as a foe and have no sympathy for your actions. These qualities mix with those I hunt, The Nomads. They to act in such savage ways, destroying everything they see. These qualities are something the two of you share and its something I cannot ignore. I ask you to stop this madness, prove you are different then that of the Nomads, an Alien race whose sole purpose is to destroy.
The transmission opens with a radiant, golden Fleur de lys on a royal blue background. It fades, and reveals the also radiant Henri-François de Suffren, looking at the center of the screen with a mixture of noble aloofness and absolute contempt.
Monsieur Calle,
It has been decreed that I would be the one addressing your... concerns. I will attempt to do so to the best of my abilities.
"Where do I begin", you asked at the onset of your... Remarks. Extraordinarily, I find myself pondering the same issue ! Where to start, where to start.
You see, I am not accustomed to being lectured by some ill-mannered ruffian regarding the intricacies of Gallic civilisation. Savagery, you claim, with troubling intensity in the eye ! Everyone is our foe, you boldly surmise, seemingly unaware of the vast and complex web of friends and servants Gallia has woven along its path to rightful retribution ! We have no sympathy, you declare, wilfully ignoring the real reasons behind our decision to resort to war !
Monsieur, this is all quite infuriating. That some dense space trapper would emit such violent and baseless j'accuse to our intention, without even committing to the basic courtesy of introducing himself ! I know not from whence you came, but surely books and manners were in equally short supply there. I am truly quite revulsed at you.
He emits a curt cough, shielding his mouth with a gloved hand. A textbook display of noble body language, showing utter, overwhelming distaste.
Now that I have adressed the form, let me see to the actual content of your... Diatribe. A Zola, you are not, monsieur ! The corners of space in which you dwell have seemingly fallen prey to all sorts of propaganda, clearly devised by those who feel threatened by our inexorable march. Ask yourself : who would ? And I would reply : the wicked, of course ! The wicked, the evil, the unjust. Those who would have had us sacrificed eight centuries ago, erased from History for the sake of their own petty survival, forever banished to a distant memory. Yes ! The great betrayal, as it is certainly not taught in your primitive parts, monsieur. The foe is he who wanted us all dead. The foe is he who denies this heinous, primal crime. The foe is he who, by fighting our quest for retribution, makes himself complicit of civilisation-scale genocide.
Thankfully, Sirius is not so barbarous as you claim : Sirians are not our foes. In fact, most Sirians, to His Majesty's knowledge, are honest, hardy and brave. Our brothers and sisters in the great exodus... Had we not been betrayed. Ask yourself this, trapper : you claim to fight horrendous creatures bent on the eradication of mankind. On your own, by the sound of it. That leaves us with two possibilities.
Either these space monsters are a thing of fiction. And Gallia knows for a fact that there is very much some particularly vicious and ill-mannered force beyond our frontiers that means us harm.
Or, and this constitutes my salient point : Sirian governments are too busy oppressing their populations, spoiling their worlds, aiming at short-term profiteering, to even consider pitting their resources in favour of the greater good. I will leave you with a truth, the heart of our campaign, the casus belli par excellence. I hope it will be enough for you to better appreciate Gallia's position.
We have struck, because we would never have been heard. Because we have three goals, incompatible with the lustful, selfish, self-obsessed Sirian governments of yesterday, today and tomorrow. These goals are thus. We seek justice for the attempt on our very existence eight centuries ago. We wish to liberate the oppressed from their evil masters. And lastly, we wish to unite our peoples under a single banner of culture, sophistication, merit and justice. A world in which all shall have precisely what they deserve, and all shall be granted a chance to contribute to mankind's superb glory. This includes clenching a united, implacable fist in the face of this alien peril you allude to.
A final note, then. You ask us to stop this madness, to quote you. Gallia knows much. Centuries of careful study of Sirian society and power plays has proven instructive. Knowing all that we do, true madness would be inaction. Not only mad, but also irresponsible. We will bear the light of civilisation in the indiscriminate darkness of barbary and hatred, as we always have in the past. Because someone must.
I bid you good day, monsieur.
He emerges from his seat in a smooth, delicate motion, and the transmission fades, leaving only his signature.
Bien cordialement,
Henri-François de Suffren, comte du Loiret
Maître des requêtes du Consulat
(06-14-2019, 12:25 PM)Sombra Hookier Wrote: If everyone was a bit more like Lanakov, the entire world would be more positive. Including pregnancy tests.
[DATA SECURED--.... [PARCEL FOUND - TRANSMITTING].........
---- -- -{ INBOUND TRANSMISSION }- -- ----
COMM ID----------Jonathan Kalh -------------------------------Battlegroup Scarabeaus
RECEIVER ID----The Kingdom of Gallia -------------------------------Gallia
ENCRYPTION Impenetrable
*Unreachable unless you are the recipient*
You people really are that delusional... To hold a grudge for 8 centuries and wage a war to what end? You say it would have been madness not to act yet you didnt give any possibility that being a force for good would have been a better option. To quote you, "because we would never have been heard" is a poor excuse. Is violence really the answer? Well given your attack on Bretonia, and Liberty I suppose there is no room for talking just violence. As I mentioned before I hunt Nomads for their volatile and insatiable appetite for destruction and violence. You and yours might have your fancy words but in the end, if we go straight down to the bone your just like them. Two things you will learn, The Nomads are real and my vows no longer only apply to them but anyone who mimics their traits as well.
The transmission opens with a radiant, golden Fleur de lys on a royal blue background. It fades, and reveals the clearly disgusted Henri-François de Suffren.
Monsieur Calle,
I am bewildered by your vulgarity. You had your mind set on hostility towards us before you even sent that sad little transmission of yours. Your bloodlust had overcome what I'll generously call your intellectual faculties long before you thought of writing us. And yet, you still did, insulting my nation with utter gratuity, serving no point whatsoever but to give you a moral excuse to embark on a pitiful crusade. And still, I gave you an honest reply, appealed to your intellect, your empathy, your spirit. It turns out you have none of these characteristics. You, monsieur, like many Sirians, are comparable to a simple-minded beast to whom nature has, to mankind's tragic dismay, given opposable thumbs. You accuse us of traits you refuse to see in yourself. Yet, there is little else in you but misplaced anger, lust for violence and a disconcerting lack of touch with the world. I do get that the obscure parts within which you reside do not get the news, but I remain dumbfounded at the vacuity of your inner thoughts.
Since you have elected to deny what amounted to a promising debate and chosen instead to act like a fairly limited brute, I will treat you accordingly and no longer waste my tremendous intellect on your case. So here is, in short, simple and easily digestible terms, my reply to your... What even is it ? A one-man declaration of war ? Goodness me, and I have so much actual work to do.
So, to address the two things that you presume to have taught me. Me ! But let us not digress.
The Nomads, as you call them, are real. Oui, we were quite aware, of course. To imagine that we were not speaks volumes to how vacuous and disconnected you are from reality. But to the salient point ! Only a creature as vile and soulless as a Nomad would have ignored my elegantly constructed arguments and pleas both on the intellectual and emotional levels. Only they are so deprived of basic mental faculties as to simply declare "HURR MUST KILL", if you pardon the inelegant onomatopoeia, following a discourse like the one I was generous enough to serve you.
By this logic, which I would say is sound, you have yourself fallen to their side, either voluntarily, by the sheer lack of meaning of what must be a very sorry existence, or you were ensnared by one of their succubi. Given the hopeless blandness of your features, repulsive density in your eye and inexcusable dullness of the mind... Well, both seem plausible, to be fair. In the end, that makes you a threat to mankind, and therefore to Gallia. You will be seen to accordingly.
Suddenly, the Comte rises from his seat in a single, unexpectedly brutal motion. His previously cold, calculating features have turned into a livid expression of raw, absolute fury. His voice hasn't changed in tone, but is faintly trembling, much like the ground before an apocalyptic earthquake.
None of this would have mattered, you mad, poor fool... Buffoons like you are dime-a-dozen, our Marine eats them for breakfast... But you... He shakes his head in disbelieving contempt.
You had to mention your vows. You had to bring honneur into this. HONNEUR ! Vows are SACRED ! They may never be UNBROKEN unless you are RELEASED from them ! One does not simply CHOOSE, WILLY-NILLY, TO WHAT THEY MAY OR MAY NOT APPLY, ACCORDING TO WHAT IS MOST CONVENIENT AT THE TIME ! VOWS ARE NOT A SHOPPING LIST, YOU BRUTISH, UNREFINED, DETESTABLE EXCUSE FOR...
He does not finish his sentence. Still livid, he removes the glove on his right hand, which he angrily tosses in direction of the screen.
Monsieur, by breaking your vows, you have forsaken your honneur, relinquished your humanity, degraded yourself to the status of corrosive dung. Every peasant in the universe now looks down on you in disgust. You are every living creature's inferior. By the grace of His Majesty, Charles the XIth, I, Henri-François de Suffren, Comte du Loiret, fonctionnaire au service de sa Majesté, declare upon all that I cherish that I will end you.
And this, monsieur, is how one makes a vow. Observe, as I honor it.
He readjusts his red cape in one swift motion and the transmission ends. No signature appears.
(06-14-2019, 12:25 PM)Sombra Hookier Wrote: If everyone was a bit more like Lanakov, the entire world would be more positive. Including pregnancy tests.