ParagonExploiter

'Trust is'
 
 

Trust is specific. Ploys are vague.
We are an organisation with deep dreams and vested interests. Premium services are cardinal to our dominance in handpicked sectors. The HTX is committed to exotic industry, a network of effective logistics services, sterling trade hubs and lethal PvP. Through Outpost Zebra, we hope to provide players with prime, objective news coverage online.
 
 

Trust is finite. Money is printed.
Welcome to Dual Universe. We are here to serve you – not the organisation or alliance. We know trust is finite and hard to obtain. That’s why we’re always in for the long haul. Lifelong trust is lifelong gain. The HTX won’t sacrifice long term advantages for short-lived profits. To forfeit integrity is loss; to break neutrality is anathema. Your alignment in Dual Universe is inconsequential: we have a reputation for impartiality. Business with the HTX is Suisse banking.
 
 

Trust has history. Lies die swiftly.
Our arrival in 2016 as The Aether was little more than a whisper. We have since evolved. It’s hard to imagine now, but at one time, The Aether arguably had the largest network of alliances and agreements in Dual Universe. We are not the white knights of old. Alliances and memoranda; been there, done that. Time has shaped the HTX into a focused and observant group. We have shed ghosts to obviate inflating our numbers. We have avoided alliances to spurn partisanship. Join an organisation with an untainted history and famous members. We make only one promise: business is business.
 
 

Trust is enlightened. Gullibility is uninformed.
In 2017, we realised, ‘this isn’t going to work.’ The Aether had goals to offer services to Dual Universe. However, alliances would require compromise, sooner or later. Simultaneously, going solo was to paint a target on our backs. A bulb turned on: neutrality is not isolation; independence is not frailty. The options: stick to The Aether or do better. Two years later, we’ve never been prouder of our decision. Dual Universe is a world that can only grow from here, and along with it, so will we.
 
 

Trust is industrious. Deception tires quickly.
Maximising the minimum gain is a philosophy you will come to understand in the HTX. It is foolhardy to assume an organisation can be the best at everything. We decided instead to be the best at everything we do. Our focus on industry is limited to the dynamic production of high value items. Whether these are transferred to nefarious entities for further use or creative players for protecting themselves is none of our concern. However, we are interested in ensuring the purchased goods are delivered in pristine condition. To that effect, we are developing our haulier services to reach you wherever you might be in a timely fashion. To handle hostile interest in your consignment, the HTX intends to cultivate a small, skilled and specialised group of players. Their purpose is not to harass organisations or individuals. This arm exists to make sure no living being or plan comes between you and your delivery. As a secondary goal, our PvP members must be able to stall companies many times their size, or turn the tide if a delivery so requires it. Lastly, keeping people updated on the events in Dual Universe is important for their safe passage, information and entertainment. We need nothing more than a few objective reporters around the Universe to bring you the news you need to hear.
 
 

Trust is patient. Failure is restless.
Rome wasn’t built in a day. It will take time, careful planning and a long march to achieve our end-goal. The sniper waits for the right moment. The industrialist builds his conglomerate over decades. We are dedicated to achieving what we set out for. Patience is not simply the ability to wait – it’s how we behave while waiting. In Dual Universe that means having fun, learning from setbacks and constantly working towards a goal. We short-change ourselves when we give in to impatience and laxity. Dual Universe is fun; we are fun – if you have the mind to welcome it.
 
 

Trust is decisive. Hope wanders.
Are you satisfied? If you think you have found a mutual fit in us, submit an application. We have clearly defined goals for decisive people. If that’s you, you’re more than welcome to join a premier organisation. If we have identified you as a promising candidate, you will hear from us soon.
 
Trust is the HTX.
The Heimera Trade Xchange is a unique name, formed from our values and learned members. ‘Heimera’ is a word taken from Icelandic ‘Heimana’ (worlds) and Greek ‘Meraki’ (to do something with soul, creativity or love; leaving a piece of yourself in your work). Together, they signify our dedication to making an impact in the best way we possibly can. Is there a more realistic way to signal commitment to excellence in our activities?
 
Our members shine. The first ever community digest featured Aetherios (now known as Vyz Ejstu). The second one interviewed Falstaf for his excellent work in founding Outpost Zebra and his generally flawless character. Anonymous is an inconspicuous figure almost assuredly behind the largest projects in Dual Universe. Kael often runs both Outpost Zebra and the organisation with mechanical efficiency. We encourage our members to be active and build a respectable image for themselves and the organisation. A star filled night sky is beautiful, but nothing without individually shining stars. What else to expect of an organisation that draws inspiration from the best of history, philosophy and design?
 
 

Visit our Discord Server to learn more: Heimera Trade Xchange Server

Head to our Community Portal to submit an application: Community Portal

Visit Outpost Zebra to keep up to date with Dual Universe: Outpost Zebra
 
 
RECRUITING STATUS:
 

[OPEN]
 
 
© Copyright Published by TextBomb™ A subsidiary of the HTX. All Rights Blown Up.

That's what arkification tokens are for, to provide a shield around your city to protect it.
 
https://devblog.dualthegame.com/2015/07/24/territory-control/#more-468

As explained in the forum FAQ here - https://board.dualthegame.com/index.php?/topic/1122-dual-universe-faqsources/
 
DU will have a standardized currency - https://board.dualthegame.com/index.php?/topic/21-devblog-from-barter-to-market-economy/
 

I agree with the Grand Architect

"No! Leave it as it is! You cannot take back the stroke of the pen. What do you want to change? The language fits your personality and the fictional Twerkmotor seems to agree with the role-playing you. I vote against amendment."

DISCLAIMER : THIS STORY WILL BE PERFORMED IN CHARACTER. ANYTHING WRITTEN IN THE STORY IS REPRESENTING OF THE FICTIONAL CHARACTER, NOT THE AUTHOR HIMSELF. ANY QUESTIONS WILL BE RESPONDED TO IN CHARACTER.



==================================================================================================


   Nobody chooses to call themselves Twerkmotor. Then again, nobody would believe them Arkships were ever going to be needed. They called me crazy, them top-heads and generals, calling me insane for pointing out the obvious trap we were heading ourselves into. 



  Have you ever wandered why we would ever put ourselves in hybernation, if we have warp-drives? It diffuses the purpose doesn't it? Well, have you ever wandered, why your first instinctual thought when hearing about spaceship is "big guns" ? Why you think of alien worlds and the first twitching motion is the trigger-finger squeezing? That's right soldier, now it all comes back, doesn't it?



 They told us the war would bring safety to humanity. They told us the war would secure humanity's existence for ages to come. I guess those buzcut heads must function as echochambers, since there seemed to be no brain whatsoever left in those top-notch generals. The aliens knew our tactics, they had millenians to perfect war, they only had to amp the scale of one tactic in particular and we were done for. Scorched Earth they called it back in the day, the aliens called "Collapsing a Star". 
 Do you know what happens, when you warp into a system and the star collapses? You never come out of warp. The black hole's orbit flings you past it, as warp will allow you to exceed the escape velocity of the black hole, but at what cost? Say bye bye to your loved ones, you won't be seeing them EVER again.

 I told the top-notch grizzly pilots in fancy uniforms that the aliens collapsed the stars, it's not something that happens every other time and so often. They called me crazy. "Noone can collapse a star. It's beyond ANY technology that can exist" they said. I guess handling a rail-gun makes EVERYONE expert in nuclear fusion and weak nuclear interactions. When Alpha Centauri's binary stars collapsed at the same time, we knew we were done for. 4.5 years they gave us to pack everyone of importance into the Arkships. That's how long the gamma radiation would take to reach planet Earth and turn its own atmosphere into a microwave oven. They came to me, told me that I had foresight , they told me my knowledge wa valued. 

I showed them my brother's death-mail, saying he was K.I.A. after the battle of Kaliban system. I showed them my wife's last letter, having it made into a portrait. For your information, she went "missing", along with an entire squadron of ships under her command. She never had time for children, she had to fight the good fight you see. I told them I will be waiting the end on my lawn, possibly with the barbeque going.


They told me the aliens had lost control of their tech that disrupted the core of stars, something about quantum frequencies, how the galactic center was "infected" by the disruption of the aliens' weapon. Yeah, guess what happens when you disrupt a supermassive black hole. That's where the Arkships came in.


It was tech meant for EXTREMELY long travels. Warp can make a travel to a system ten light years away to last only a day or two. But another galaxy altogether? That took time. Time that would be needed spent in cryosleep. They told me I could make a difference in humanity's new era, far away, to a galaxy safe from possible quantum frequency disruptions in the core of its stars. I said yes to that. That would be a good way to make my life worth its while.


Guess what, the aliens had blown up their own territory's stars so much, they were out of materials to enact their own Project Ark. One last hurray in being assholes, amirite? Even as we boarded the arkships, those friggin' aliens kept fighting us. They got our starbird side in a kinetic barrage - tell you what, Arkships are enormous, cumbersome, up until they hit warp, then they fly as fast as any star-hopper jet could. One in every ten arkships was destroyed. I retrospect, I hope those were the last things I could recall.


While being prepped for cryostasis, I took the liberty of conversing with the men and women in my pod-group. I asked them of what their field of expertise was, given my assumption that the arkships would have people of science to help rebuild humanity. As I asked the first man on my left, he replied "Heavy Weapons operator". The woman across me said, "Sniper" in a hick accent. Slowlly, every other person spoke up and soon, they all started exchanging their batallion numbers, where they had served, how man drops in power armor they had under their belts, confirmed kills, stories of gorious glory. Then it hit me. I wasn't there to rebuild humanity. I was there to build weapons for a new and senseless war when the time comes.


I had ninety centuries of cryo sleep and lucid dreams to see the same nightmare. My brother, dying in an onslaught of aliens, then I saw others' brothes dying, others' wives dying. I saw the endless cycle of hate and misery, brought by a "new" humanity, rooted in a military gene pool.  That's how it started, getting mad.


Now, as I'm standing here, awoken, unfrozen, isolated in the bridge of the arkship, with every airlock open in the ship and every cryopod ejected down the planet, I only have to wonder how long will these grunts take to kill each other with sticks and stones. Surelly, it won't be long. I wasn't thinking straight, I must have dropped some engineers down the planet alongside the soldiers. Which gave me a better idea. Why build weapons for the army, when I can start selling weapons to everyone? Why not feed both sides of the war with the same weapons? Why not make myself less of a threat, give myself a silly-ass name. Yes, war never changes they say. Weapons though do. And it's due time for some upgrades. Perhaps... quantum-frequencies is the direction I should dwell into.

“They told us it was impossible…They were right.”
 
 
 
The scorching sun, the blistering desert wind, the screams and shouts of the desperate people behind us. The images immediately switched to outer space. I saw the earth, a small blue sphere, seemingly insignificant against the backdrop of the celestial realm in all its glory. The image stayed there for a second shorter than I would have liked it.
 
Again, I was teleported into the chaos I just escaped. The people were being held off by armoured guards. Somewhere in my confused mind, I sensed a tinge of acquaintance with them all. The crowd seemed grimly desperate to get to where I was standing.
 
“Hisashi, we need to leave, now!” A voice screamed in my ear.
 
As the view turned, my eyes caught Kyle standing in the crowd. He was wearing the same uniform the others were wearing. Standing beside him were Nora and little Jeane. The three of them waved frantically at me, smiling and cheering me on. Somehow, I knew that they were all just trying to be brave: the sadness beneath their eyes was way too evident. But, my brother seemed happy, almost ecstatic at my departure. The door closed and darkness enveloped me.
 
I woke up with a dreadful headache, enough of it to kill every living human three times over. My entire body was stiff and ached with a pain that drove me to the edge of utter madness. The place was cold, as if I took a walk on a winter evening without so much as cloth on my back. Somewhere in my foggy mind I remember being told to stay still and wait the pain out.
While I waited for the pain to subside, I strained to get my thoughts together. The thoughts that came were ones I didn’t ever want to remember. I slept off, the tiredness overcoming the terror of pain.
 
Kyle, Nora, Jeane, Sonke, Tzu, Peretti, Karl… A pang of guilt stung me, hurting more than the pain my body had to endure. I killed them. I killed them all. The Arkship could only take so few people and it was no secret that to a large extent, the selection process was corrupted. What was to become of the people left behind? Death, famine, wars, disease and distress. Oethe Inc. had decided to change that.
 
As the Arkship was being constructed, Oethe was busy building our light at the end of the tunnel. The masses sponsored the project: any alternative hope was worth the world. Hundreds of billions of dollars were poured in and still the people on this craft with me were the children and grandchildren of those that had started the project. What was the name again?
 
I struggled to scratch my head, realising that I could move my hands. How long was I asleep? I craned my neck to the left all that was there was the white wall of the “Cocoon”. With a hiss, the transparent cover slid down, and the Cocoon tilted, patiently waiting, it seemed for me to make my first step. It was harder than I thought possible. My body was as stiff as a mountain. With great difficulty I put one foot out and adjusted my weight—I was floating within the moment. Slowly pulling myself along the cold metallic walls, I used the faint illumination provided by the electric blue phantom lights somewhere on the roof to guide myself along the dark corridor to the control centre. The pain was immense, nerve wracking at times, as my joints began to recover the fluidity of movement they once had.
 
We had been warned, hadn’t we? The project we were undertaking was one that entire nations in a massive and surprisingly concerted effort struggled to finance and complete. Even if we did complete the project, what would happen if an error on the on-board computer wiped us out in space? What was going to stop space debris from destroying this fragile structure?  Nonetheless, we pressed on. What hope did we have here on earth or with the corruption fraught selection system the United Nations hailed as fair and square? We had no hope on this planet.
 
As I entered the massive control centre, Eidolon came online.
 
“Hisashi, how are you feeling?”
 
I loosened my tongue and tried to reply. All that came out was a grunt.
 
“Is that how you thank me for keeping your sorry life intact?”
 
I shook my head, half amused, half frightened. Eidolon was the on-board AI developed by Oethe. He was more human than computer, being based in part on the high output brain scan of the Oethe founder. That made him, above all else, dangerous.
 
“I would have opened the air-lock to teach you manners, but the lot of you are still going to die anyway.”
 
My neck snapped in the direction of his holographic image.
 
“Ow! Whaa…do…say?!”  
 
“There is a catastrophic system failure in Section 53. The Instant On-board Error Analysis and Repair System (IO.EARS) has reported its inability to fix the problem.”
Section 53 was the central propulsion hub.
 
“How much…tume… we have?” I asked, sweating despite the cool breeze.
 
Eidolon moved across the room to the windows.
 
“Until we enter the gravitational field of the Arkship’s current home: one hour, fifty-four minutes and thirty-three seconds.”
 
Panic kicked in faster than light.
 
I could leave this ship and escape. There were enough emergency crafts to go round and I could at least save myself and carry the legacy of the Oethe with me. Eidolon could be deactivated or commanded, either way, I would need his help.
 
“Thinking of leaving, aren’t we, Grand Architect?”
 
I spun round and flew back in bewilderment as Eidolon closed in on me.
 
“I’m disappointed.” Even as he said those words, the command centre lit up in a brilliant but, macabre show of red lights.
Eidolon stood over me, looming and threatening even as the lights made his face seem dark, almost hellish.
 
“You are—“
 
“Shut up.” I spat and assumed my standing position.
 
He looked taken aback.
 
“I said shut up, if you didn’t hear me the first time. I’m not leaving. Go make yourself useful somewhere.”
 
Without so much as a word, the AI vanished into animated aurora that flew down the corridor and out of sight.
Running away right now would make me a worse person than all the tyrants, dictators, cowards, deceivers and war mongers that made us leave in the first place.
I slowly sat down in the Prime Seat and assessed our imminent death. The five hundred and fifty-seven people on this ship were my family and responsibility. The survival of Project Deliverance hung on my shoulders.
From what the Argos’ computer was relaying to me, there was no chance of survival.
The critics of this Project Deliverance had clearly told us:
 
“It’s impossible.”
 
They were right.
The planet loomed ahead, embracing us with arms of death. At this speed, we would all be dead before we felt any pain.
I whispered to myself, lost in fear, terror and desperation.
 
“Hold on, Kyle. I’m coming.” 
 
Part Two will be released soon. Stay tuned for more. 
Find out more about the Aether here.