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Futuristic Four worlds apart

DaydreamNarrator

Working on defeating the fatherlord
Roleplay Type(s)
The Caliban Andalite mothership

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A typical Andalite mothership, easy to recognize by the poor armament and the enormous dome taking up almost the entire surface of the ship.
Contained within the dome is an enormous garden, built to look like the vast meadows of the Andalite homeworld, as well as several buildings for all kinds of puposes.
The dome is made of Ramonium, a strong, flexible material best compared to the endurance of spider silk, making it exceptionally hard to puncture.

The heart of the ship is the Sinus, a biotechnological device working similiar to the Sinoatrial Node of a human heart, providing itself and the ship with energy through depolarisation. Once a year the Sinus shuts down for a week to recover and for general maintenance, to which the ship shuts down and keeps only the most important processes running. During this week the energy production is delegated to the secondary source, a row of hydrogen engines absorbing hydrogen from surrounding gas giants, cosmic clouds and the like.




Critical Alien Races


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Andalite

Andalites are about 7 ft tall. They possess a pair of legs similar to those of a horse, a pair of elongated arms ending in three fingers, a pair of regular-sized arms and four tentacle-like appendages that end in razor sharp bone blades protruding from their backs. Their preferred way of locomotion is quatrupedal, with their elongated second set of arms serving as front legs. Thanks to an unusually flexible spine and pelvis, they are able to stand up and walk on two legs and use their elongated arms much like a human does.

Highly intelligent, their race has outmatched every other known race in Bioengineering and Gene splicing. While not exactly aggressive or evil and actually being way behind the military expertise of humans they might appear amoral regarding their ways of driving their projects and sciences forward.

Their moon, Caliban, has been entirely terraformed to provide a climate similar to earth and contain one single continent covering about 40% of the planet's surface. It is ruled by a queen, very much like a human monarchy. It is tradition for the queen's sons to command parts of the Andalite armies in times of war, however when an enemy kills an Andalite prince, it is seen as a demonstration of their power and equalty, immediately ending the war and labeling the former enemies as highly respected acquaintances to the Andalites.


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Hork-Bajir

The Hork-Bajir are bipedal, have strong reptilian bodies with dark green-black leathery skin, and two hearts. They have snake-like necks with a sharp beak at the end of their heads, tyrannosaurus-like feet, three claw-tipped fingers and a thumb on each hand, and measure to a height of seven feet in adulthood. Their most notable feature is that they have huge, long blades all over their bodies: their elbows, wrists, feet, legs, head, and tail. Male and female Hork-Bajir are told apart by the number of blades on their heads; males have three blades while females have two.

The Hork-Bajir are a feral, wild race, not directly aggressive but possessing a natural hunting instinct and very territorial behavior. Their intelligence is equivalent to that of a human toddler, although there is a miniscule change of an individual being born gifted, so to speak. They cannot see well in the dark, but they do have an excellent sense of hearing and smell. Their blood appears to be a deep blue-green. They are swift and incredibly nimble, with a reaction time similar to that of a star-nosed mole (8ms). They possess a high tolerance to pain and are capable of healing quickly.




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Taxxon

The Taxxons are a race of large insectoids resembling a massive centipede. The most prominent feature of their face is the large mouth with razor sharp serrated teeth directly in the center. Situated around sides of the mouth are four red jellylike eyes. Eight to ten feet long, they are closer to the height of a human when standing erect due to the lower portion needed for balance. They also have twelve upper appendages that end in lobsterlike pincers and twenty lower appendages.

The Taxxons possess an unceasing and irresistible instinct to constantly consume sustenance, especially meat. They will engage in feeding frenzies should they sense raw flesh or blood. They have no apparent qualms with cannibalizing their own kind, and if they are wounded they may even eat their own damaged flesh. Because of this overwhelming instinct it is hard to identify the actual intelligence of a Taxxon. The only reason the Andalites implement Taxxon DNA in their splices is to enable the process of Taxxoomniblastry, a genetically engineered hypergrowth of cells used to significantly speed up the process of their splices growing up to adulthood.




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I'iz

The I'iz were a peaceful race native to planet D'khrais, a blue planet similiar to earth, where they thrived and lived in harmony with nature. Most knowledge about them was lost after the Andalites drove them to extinction after centuries of experimenting with their DNA. They possibly were distant relatives of the human race as their physique is very similar. Though their build is more slender, their skin iridecent white and their eyes bigger, their body shape is very much humanoid. Their skin color occasionally changed to black when the individual was experiencing extreme emotional stress.

Their high intelligence was the main reason for the Andalites to implement their DNA in their splices, as well as their docile nature to balance the feral nature of Hork-Bajir and Taxxon DNA.
 
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Races created through splicing



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Shorm

60% I'iz, 40% Hork-Bajir
The Andalites' most trusted splice. Capable of defending their creators in an emergency situation, yet not created for battle, they mostly were utilized to work as assistants in the laboratories, housekeepers and gardeners on the Andalite homeworld and motherships. They are about as intelligent as a human and possess a calm and docile nature.









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Nephilim

30% I'iz, 55% Hork-Bajir, 15% Kandrona Beetle
The wilder and more dangerous cousins of the Shorm, additionally spliced with DNA of the Kandrona Beetle, a bug originated from the Yeerk homeworld with an exceptionally sturdy exoskeleton.
The Nephilim are the Andalites aerial warriors, armed with the Hork-Bajirs' razor sharp bone blades and incredible reflexes and protected by the Kandrona Beetle's natural armor a shock troop of Nephilim are an enemy to be reckoned with.




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Henker

80% Taxxon, 20% I'iz
Two words to effectively describe the Henkers would be 'deadly' and 'mistake'. These splices are the living proof that Taxxon DNA should not be used as the base to work off of.
These creatures aren't as nimble as the Nephilim Splices, but what they lack in agility and intelligence they make up with raw strength- and the six scythe-like appendages to work as incredibly powerful and fast legs or alternatively slice through almost everything in their way. Due to their mindless, aggressive nature the Henkers need to be trained for way longer than the other splices and require to be supervised by two Nephilim when sent into battle. After several deaths among Andalites, Shorm and Nephilim, the activation of Henkers is limited to absolute emergencies.






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Perl

Human 33%, Hork-Bajir 31%, I'iz 26%, Taxxon 10%
The Andalites' newest creation- with an overall humanoid body covered in tiniest scales of only split inches in size they still look, well, halfway like the human race they derived from, aside from their eye-catching horns, black scleras and skin shimmering like mother of pearl.

They are about as intelligent as a human, and, although generally cooperative and way less aggressive than Nephilms and Henkers, do possess stronger instincts than a homo sapiens.

In a long, complex process of gene splicing and breeding, the Andalites managed to mutate the color changing gene of the I'iz for the phenomenon to be used deliberately, giving the Perl the ability to significantly darken the color of their horns, hair, skin and eyes. That, their dexterity and their ability to see in the dark, gained from the Taxxon DNA, makes the them excellent to operate stealthily, especially in the dark.
 
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Datasheet - H-HB-TXX. 'Perl' G3.F-4, "Delta"


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H-HB-TXX. 'Perl' G3.F-4
"Delta"

Biological age of 26 years at initiation of cryostasis
Female
5'6 ft tall

Human 33%
Hork-Bajir 31%
I'iz 26%
Taxxon 10%

- Gene spliced and genetically engineered in embryonic stage, kept in Somno Chamber until adulthood.
--> Grown up within 17 months through Taxxoomniblastry *

Artificial alterations- Retractable Ramonite Hork-Bajir blades implanted along forearms

General and relevant knowledge transmitted through Neurolink.



Years of service- 6
Trainers- Elfangor Esgarrouth Aximili [Andalite], Dak Hamee [Hork-Bajir]
Focus- Stealth, unarmed combat, Hork-Bajir combat


A recording of the activation of H-HB-PRL-TXX. G3.F-4


Subject retrieved from Somno Chamber.

Sinus Link first impulse.
No reaction.
Sinus link second Impulse.
Neurolink detects brain activity. Consciousness established.

Neurolink data transfer started. Data transfer successful.
Subject opens eyes.

Conitive tests performed by Elfangor Esgarrouth Aximili-





Confused, she blinked into the cold light of the laboratory lamps as her mind was slowly released from what felt like a thick fog.
A blue face with striking, golden eyes appeared in her field of vision and expectantly furrowed its eyebrows. "Hello. Can you hear me properly?"
She nodded slowly, finally catching up with the situation. She knew this laboratory. She knew this face, she knew where she came from, that Somno Chamber right there, but although she even knew that all this knowledge had been granted to her by the Neurolink it was confusing. "I... think so? Where am I?", she asked a little disoriented.
"This is Shorm 6, one of our motherships.", the Andalite explained. Elfangor, that was his name, right? Her own name escaped her memory though...
"And... and who am I? I don't remember my name..."
"You are Perl G3 F Delta." When the just freshly awakened splice furrowed her brows thoughtfully, he curiously watched her process whatever was going on inside her head. "...What are you thinking about?"
"Hm?" She had been so preoccupied by analyzing the names she had learned through the Neurolink that it took her a moment to notice that Elfangor had asked her a question. "I'm sorry, just- it sounds so weird." His creation shrugged, now seemingly a little bashful. "Your name is Elfangor. There's also a Hork named Dak-Hamee, and another Andalite. Her name is Alrea, isnt it?"
"So?"
"Well, from what i can gather through the link, names don't contain numbers or a desprciption of ones species. IDs do. So I was wondering what my actual name is, as opposed to my ID."
Mhmm", the Andalite hummed. "I have to admit, I didn't think of a name. So what would you like me to call you?" Elfangor tried to hide it, but the twitching at the corner of his mouth gave away that he was trying to hide a smile. This one was curious, clever, he noted rather relieved. He had been worried that he might have used too much Hork-Bajir DNA, dulling this species' mind, but it seemed like it had all worked out well in the end, after some fine tuning. The three tries before her hadn't been exactly successful, and were unfit for the tasks the Perl were supposed to perform, so he was glad to finally make progress, after four long years of trial and error.
"... What about just Delta?", she suggested spontaneously. Elfangor had created her, given her life... she wanted to credit him somehow, even if it was just by using the one useable word from her ID for her name.
"Very well. But keep your ID in mind."
Delta smiled excitedly. "I will."



* Taxxoomniblastry - (A practice commonly used by Andalites to turn fetuses into full-grown adults within one and a half years.
It utilizes a hyperreproduction of cells similar to cancer commonly found in Taxxons. The mutation has been genetically engineered to additionally dramatically increase the reproduction rate of cells bearing non-Taxxon DNA in the process and self destruct after approximately one and a half years, leaving behind healthy cells.)
 
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It was supposed to be a routine job. Go out there; collect some samples; return, ideally in one piece, and let people much smarter than you analyze the data collected, for the good of the Terran Federation and its glorious future. It was, in fact, a job that was perhaps a little too mundane for the likes of Captain Elvira Dimalanta, but the lesson about not questioning superior officers' commands was one that she had grasped rather quickly. So, when the assignment had been given out, all she had really asked was: "When do I embark?"

And the answer, of course, had been now. It was never not now; Elvira sometimes joked about the concept of a time machine and how, had that been invented, most of her missions would have happened not as soon as possible, but straight up in the past, as everything they ever did always, always seemed to be late, chasing after an impossible schedule hatched in some madman's head.

Elvira didn't really joke all that often, though, and she certainly didn't feel like joking now, with infinity all around her and a very finite time to explore it. Space always did feel oddly claustrophobic to her; there were so many options to choose from that it sort of circled back to having no real choices at all, everything reduced to that single Ariadne's thread that she had to follow if she, you know, wasn't interested in dying.

Really? Is there where my mind just goes nowadays? Her fingers danced across the control panel, highlighting a button here and another there. The movements were automatic, but Elvira rather wished that they weren't. She wished she had to focus harder; she wished she didn't have to spend so much time with her thoughts; she wished, and rather desperately at that, that she didn't hear the gunshots every time she closed her eyes, that the artificial light would stop making her head hurt so much, or that she didn't have to pretend she didn't see how people winced in sympathy whenever they'd caught her staring like that (she did, and knew all too well just what it meant.)

Much like she knew what this meant. As in, the reconnaissance mission. Her! Just another step to the pits of irrelevance, now that she had--

When the communicator in her ear came to life, Elvira was almost thankful for the distraction. "Captain Dimalanta?"

"Yes?"

"A foreign object has been caught by our radars, not too far from your current location. Sending you the coordinates. Can you scan for it?"


Elvira pursed her lips. A foreign object could be a number of things, most of which were about as interesting as the contents of the public toilet, though she had the feeling that they wouldn't bother her had that been the case. The implication beyond the message was obvious, even if they didn't usually didn't speak that language, and it went like this: 'Wanna check it out?'

For better or worse, she did. That she would have done just about anything to escape from her own thoughts should have registered as a brighter red flag than it really did, but Elvira never had been that good at the whole introspection thing.

The coordinates flashed in front of her mind's eye; she proceeded to input them into the computer as the machine whirred pleasantly, almost making her think that it was, well, thinking, in whatever way it was even capable of doing so. Almost, but not quite! Because - contrary to popular opinion - Elvira Dimalanta was not as big of a nutjob, thank you very much. She looked up at the screen, her breath stuck somewhere in her throat, as she waited for the cameras to focus on that mysterious something that seemed to bother her colleague so much.

Needless to say, the results were not what she'd been expecting.

Is that...?

Elvira blinked. Elvira blinked again in case this was her brain lying to her again and this was a huge fucking nothing just like she had thought it to be, but, for once, what she'd found in the vast emptiness wasn't just a bunch of rocks. Ahead, floating in the vacuum, was a ship, large and majestic and obviously Andalite in nature, all the markings there for anyone with eyes to see. Not much remained of its glory now - what hadn't been claimed by rust for sure had been claimed by time - but a shiver still ran down Elvira's spine when she realized just what she was looking at.

Humanity's ancient enemies. Their would-be butchers, who'd learned the hard way why you didn't fuck with a race stubborn enough to lift themselves to the stars. The subjects of fairytales that overzealous mothers still told their children, often ending with something like: "If you won't fix that attitude now, the Andalites will come for you!"

"Captain Dimalanta?"
The weight of expectations in the man's voice almost made Elvira gag.

"Oh, it's... something, alright. A fucking Andalite ship. No, I'm not kidding. Call in reinforcements! I am not going in there alone."

~***~

No, not alone, but Elvira was going in there. How could she not? History was being written right before her very eyes and she always had been keen about contributing to that with her own hand, no matter how many times it had been broken doing just that. Some called it bravery; she called it stupidity. Whatever it was, it was that very instinct that pushed her to fly her recon vessel to the giant structure -- and fuck, it was too bad that Elvira had never wanted to find out what it felt like to be a mosquito buzzing around a lion's ear because this was a great opportunity for her to learn just that.

The thing was obscenely huge, to the point it was hard to not be impressed. Similarly, it was hard not to be impressed when she forced the lock open and the insides looked... fine? Fine enough, at least, for a ship that had been abandoned for centuries now, left behind as a sacrifice for entropy.

"What a find," one of her new teammates whistled. Elvira didn't know him; what was more, she didn't want to know him. The helmet providing him with precious oxygen made it so that she couldn't see his face very well, but he already sounded like an asshole and she knew more than enough of those. "Can you believe it has been here for decades? As in, that nobody has found it before?"

Elvira rolled her eyes, "Not sure if you've noticed, officer, but space is rather big. So yes, I can, in fact, believe that." A tiny correction: maybe it was her who had been the asshole all along, but frankly, she didn't give much of a fuck. Just like all the assholes in the world, Elvira also managed to ignore the death glares of the rest of the team, as well as the whispered comments in the vein of 'someone's on her period,' as she trudged forward, one careful step after another.

She wasn't there to make friends; above all, she certainly wasn't there to make friends with people who thought that 'wow, how fucking cool' was a great conversation starter.

In truth, Elvira wasn't all that sure what she was there to do, aside from turning on her flashlight and bathing everything in front of her in those cold, sterile rays that reminded her of a hospital. These days, most things reminded her of some kind of hospital, but--

"Hey, what's that?" Elvira didn't recognize the voice, but she turned around all the same, tempted by what she recognized as true curiosity. When she did so, she understood right away; it wasn't every day, after all, that you discovered what seemed to be a pod with someone still inside, dreaming her endless dream behind the plexiglass.

"Who is that would be the better question here, I reckon."

"What should we do?"

"Do you think she is still--?"

"Are we sure it's a she?"


The correct protocol, of course, would have been to a) do nothing, and b) report their finding so that someone more qualified than them might decide, but the guy from before - you know, the intellectual - didn't seem to be all too great at impulse control.

That was, Elvira supposed, why he just fucking pushed one of the buttons?

Ugh. Off to a great start!
 
-•- 1542 years ago -•-

"We could enter through the airvents."
Delta shook her head at her battle sister's suggestion. Iota, G3.F-10, was the youngest member of her squad and while she was eager to prove herself competent and useful, she still had a lot to learn. "Too obvious. They'll either be aware of them being a weak spot and keep a constant watch on it or they'll try to actively use it against us and set a trap. We need another way in."
The Perl next to her, Alpha, G3.F-4, nodded slowly, her shimmering skin swirling with hints of worried gray. She usually wasn't one to show it so outwardly, but, honestly, it wasn't looking good.
Despite how primitive the human race was, they were tough. They always found a way to get back up, fight on, survive. In that regard they weren't very dicferent from the Yeerks... Or cockroaches. Maybe that was the reason they were fighting on the Yeerks' side. Or maybe they were plain gullible. After all, their senses were pitiful and their knowledge was that of a toddler (which they were, as a race, compared to others).

This mission, infiltrating one of the Yeerk's Kandrona Pools they had set up right under a big human city, in a labyrinth of catacombs, could be the massive blow that was needed to finally put a dent in their lines; one of their leaders, Visser Three, who had burrow nice and deep into the brain of some critically influential whatsit, was going to be there in a couple of hours. If they could manage to capture that slug in a stuffy meatsuit and extract it, they might actually have a chance of ending this war; they'd "just" have to use Three as a bait to draw Visser One out of his hidey hole and squish that literal slimy bastard. The only problem? Visser One was controlling an Andalite body, with all its power, knowledge and the invaluable ability to extract DNA from any living being to store it and morph into it. Even worse, the Andalite it was puppeteering was Sirinal-Shamtul-Isthill, one of the two Caliban princes, which meant, he couldn't be harmed by any ally, else the queen wouldn't hesitate to turn the culprit into a Nothlit.

"It's dark down there, which is useful, but the tunnels are narrow and winding. If we get caught, trying to escape will be hell", Delta muttered as she studied the holographic map they were brooding over. "And we don't know what other Controllers they have down there. For all we know they could have Taxxons stationed by the pools."
"Eesh, Taxxons... ", another Perl huffed with a gray shudder running down her spine.
Iota gave Alpha a questioning look; " Is it really true? ", she asked quietly. "What they say? That Taxxons will eat anything, even themselves?"
the Squad leader smiled faintly as she nodded. "Hmm. I remember that one mission, it was only Delta an me-"
The Perl in question chuckled wryly. "Yeah, they flagged it as a training mission. I had just passed my final trial in zero gravity combat and Alpha had beat Dak Hamee in Hork Combat for the first time. So we go down there, it was... Sycorax?"
"Definitely Sycorax", Alpha agreed with a nod. " The Yeerk's were trying to breed Taxxons there, to create a Taxxon Controller army. So we land, survey the area... Nothing. Dead silence until nightfall. But then they came. In hoards." She narrowed her eyes. "We thought we were done for. That's when our smart, ever so collected Delta snapped and, in a blind panic fight reaction, tears her arm blade through the nearest Taxxon, slicing right through its middle. They smell the blood and innards and it's carnage, everyone is trying to get to the corpse, killing each other over it and feasting on their remains and their own severed parts. Turns out if you want to put down an entire army of centipedes, just kill one. That is, if they're not controlled by a Yeerk."
"We needed a good long shower that evening", Delta added with a laugh as she elbowed her sister in the side. This war was hell, but it was moments like these, just trading stories and sharing laughs with her family, her squad, that made it all worthwhile. For them, she'd fight till her last breath.



-•- Present Day -•-

Dead silence. Unlike human cryostasis, which was like a long, dreamless sleep, the pods of the Andalites were directly connected to the sinus, the central nervous system and heart of the ship, which granted them pleasant dreams as they waited to be reawakened. So when her dream ended, Delta knew that something was wrong, very, very wrong. Had the sinus shut down for maintenance? No, that couldn't be, the maintenance had to be manually induced. If it shut down on its own, it was either exhausted, dying or already dead.

From the moment darkness settled upon her where dreams had carried her softly before, fear had become her permanent companion. What about her sisters? Were they alright? What about the sinus? It was more than just a critical part of the ship, it was an entity of its own, with emotions, thoughts, an agency... It was family, as much as her squad, Elfangor, Alrea, even Dak Hamee.
When the Terran Federation had killed prince Arbat-Elivat-Estoni, the captain of their ship, the Andalites had retreated and left the ship, along with every crew member on board, as a tribute to the humans. Had Elfangor made it home safely? Would he come back for her and her sisters? After all, they had been the pride and joy of the graying Andalite scientist. He wouldn't just leave them... Right?

Her restless pondering in the dark was interrupted by a sharp hiss. The next thing Delta was aware of was fresh air being sucked into her pod while the fluid that kept her in cryosleep was drained from the tube. The lid rose into the air to expose her slowly reawakening body, soaked in cryo fluid that, by the scent of it, had gone rancid a while ago, possibly for the same reason the Sinus hadn't been able to keep her dreams running.

It took a while for the brain fog to wear off, which felt amusingly similar to her first being awakened in Elfangor's laboratory. However, when her mind finally caught up, her eyes shot open and her body, controlled by pure instinct at this moment, jumped into action. Squatting on the metal bed she had just been lying on five seconds ago, her every instinct scanned her surroundings within a split second. It was dark, too dark, there were strangers here with her, and-

Staring at the other pods in the room wide-eyed, a shuddering breath escaped her lips as her snow white skin darkened visibly with a devastated dark gray swirling across it, spreading until there was barely any white shimmer left to her.

They were gone. They were all gone.
"Alpha... Iota... ", she whispered as she straightened up and tried desperately to tap into the Neurolink to reach them, as unrealistic as it was, with their bodies rotting away in deactivated pods just a couple of feet away, but there was only silence. Everyone... Was just gone. The silence was deafening.

Her grief blinded her for an eternity of five seconds before her Hork-Bajir instincts caught up and tethered her back to the here and now, where a group of strangers was standing in Front of her, looking no less distrustful than she felt. Within a moment, her combat experience helped her figure out how to disable them all without letting herself be harmed, hopefully.

Unfortunately, her body did not play along, after way too much time spent in the somno chamber, and she soon felt her knees buckle under her. This was not good, all this time sleeping away had left her weak and drained. "Don't come closer! ", she warned the strangers, but it was painfully obvious that she was in no shape to defend herself.
 
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