Disenfrancised
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Ah man I know how much that sucks, my left hand was ruined for typing for nigh on a year a while ago. As some may have noted in #nes my typing is not the most error free even years later
.
SYSNES2: On the Lathe of Suns
- Thread starter Disenfrancised
- Start date
Ah man I know how much that sucks, my left hand was ruined for typing for nigh on a year a while ago. As some may have noted in #nes my typing is not the most error free even years later
.
Disenfrancised
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Indeed.
Anyone hoping to win the 'first orders' prize can weep, for qoou has already hopped in.
Symphony D.
Deity
The Treaty of Torpor
Settling upon the name of Torpor for the planet SAF2 IV, the Praxzen Bureaucracy and Csser'ian Confederacy (henceforth Praxzen and Csser'ians, respectively) resolve the following:
A. Regarding Torpor Orbital Facilities
- Guaranteeing that the Praxzens shall commit 40e (40/126i) and the Csser'ians shall commit 42e, 25m, and 19v (86/126i) for the sake of constructing a Space Frame and Spacedock.
- Asserting a 1:1:1 equivalency ratio for e:m:v, the difference for 50:50 input is acknowledged as being 23i.
- Recognizing this difference as being covered by Praxzen engineering contributions, initial ownership stake will be regarded as 50:50, and both parties shall have free access to the facilities in perpetuity.
- Citing joint investiture and specialization, the Csser'ians shall assume maintenance costs for the facilities, estimated at -5e and -1s per year, and the facilities shall be registered as Csser'ian.
- Citing operational capabilities, until such time, if ever, that facility expansion occurs, the Praxzen shall provide the specialists necessary to operate the facilities.
- Citing operational concerns, the improvement of the station shall fall upon, and correspondingly 100% of profits from commerce and industry generated on the facility shall go to the Csser'ians.
- Guaranteeing that the Praxzens shall commit 40e, 10m, and 5v (55/320i) and the Csser'ians shall commit 240e and 25m for the sake of constructing a Ground Base, Space Port, and Pumping Station.
- Asserting a 1:1:1 equivalency ratio for e:m:v, the difference for 50:50 input is acknowledged as being 105i.
- Recognizing this difference as being covered by Praxzen engineering, logistics, and operational contributions, initial ownership stake will be regarded as 50:50, and both parties shall have free access to the facilities in perpetuity.
- Citing joint investiture and specialization, the Praxzen shall assume maintenance costs for the facilities, estimated at -1s per year, shall provide the specialists necessary to operate the facilities, and the facilities shall be registered as Praxzen.
- Citing strategic interests, the improvement of the facility is to be jointly funded to the best of the abilities of both parties, and correspondingly 50% of profits from extraction and industry generated by the facility shall go to both parties. In the event of a stable odd valued production, the excess shall rotate by year.
- Citing shared goals, both Praxzen and Csser'ians agree to mutually acknowledge one another with Most Favored Nation status.
- Elaborating further, both parties agree to engage in dialogue regarding Segment-wide market share, to coordinate expansion of market shares, and to harmonize competition to the benefit of both parties whenever possible.
- Noting the possibility for perceived violations of this agreement, both parties agree to undertake mediation attempts if requested by either party.
- Acknowledging Praxzen expertise in biological and materials technologies (BIO and MAT) and Csser'ian expertise in propulsion and energy technologies (PROP and ERG), both parties affirm a benefit to mutual exchange and education.
- Citing shared strategic and economic interests, both parties consent to the exchange of technical experts on a quid pro quo basis, with reasonable advance notice and logistical planning to be undertaken as necessary.
- Noting potential benefits, both parties reserve the option to engage in exchange of technical specifications of space-faring vehicles.
- Acknowleding the dangerous environment of the Forest and differences in capabilities and experience, the Praxzen resolve to stand together with the Csser'ians and begin military-to-military and government-to-government cooperation, with defense clauses against unprovoked aggression.
alex994
Hail Divine Emperor!
The Csser'ian Confederacy affirms her approval of the Treaty of Torpor.
Disenfrancised
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ACCESS: PLANET YAN
ACCESS DATASPHERE: CAT18 (Educational Shows) CHANNEL 89
ITEM: NEW HORIZONS UTARII INTERVIEW
...BUFFERING...
ACCESS DATASPHERE: CAT18 (Educational Shows) CHANNEL 89
ITEM: NEW HORIZONS UTARII INTERVIEW
...BUFFERING...
RY: Hello Viewers! I am Riy Yuuii as always here on New Horizons, and I am joined by the Enlightened Researcher Horj Utarii, whose recent publications have sparked so much controversy in the circles of the high minded.
ErHU: Thank you for having me on Riy, its a pleasure to be here. It both gladdens and pains me to admit your show has done more to get my two sons interested in science than any of my own efforts!
RY: Oh Im sure thats not true *laughs* We try our best to bring the light to everyone.
ErHU: Exactly exactly, thats why Im here! The whole human universe needs to know about our discoveries, they could change everything!
RY: Yes, so lets get down to that. As I understand it, your team performed a meta-analysis of all the Fragment Inscriptions uncovered in the centuries of the holy work? Including a number the academy has not yet released to the general public?
ErHU: Yes quite correct. We put so much stock in those fragments; brilliant metallic green-gold sheets, hair thin but so indestructible that they can only be cut with positron beams, inscrolled with non-repeating patterns that hold terabytes of indecipherable information. We hold them in such awe as by far the most common artefact of the Holy Ancients, that we lose sight of what they truly are!
RY: And what is that?
ErHU: Trash!
RY: Trash?
ErHU: Trash. They are discarded packing material. My teams discovery was that when you put the fragments together, 77.6% of them can be assorted into six simple forms; boxes, racks and shipping containers all. The scrollwork is probably just a fancy way of saying this way up or fragile or are just something to make it look pretty. All those millions of man hours spent staring at the patterns is complete silliness.
RY: I can see why some would object to that hypothesis, and certainly the faithful who make shrines of fragments might not take kindly to the suggestion.
ErHU: Small minded fools then. For the fragments arent important for what they are, but what they imply.
RY: What do you mean? That they arent important in and of themselves but on-
ErHU: How they were made and what has happened to them! Yes Im glad you agree. For you see there is another 15% of the fragments that could fit into one of the six forms my team identified for most of the fragments, if they hadnt undergone a deformation. Theyve been bent and crumpled, and atom scale analysis reveals materials have even somehow flowed through them. These deformations arent orderly like some sort of machine taking apart another machine, theyre like a child ripping off wrapping paper. We have always thought of the Fragments as divine unchanging relics of Ancients, when really the true capabilities of the ancients was staring us right in the face all the time. When you look combining that analysis with the Guhurii flow sites-
RY: Do you mean the ones found by Er Lik Guhurii in 4862?
ErHU: Indeed I do.
RY: Would you care to refresh our audiences knowledge? We need to make sure the viewers are on the same page here.
ErHU: Of course of course. During the coring of the Gundfoll Glacier they discovered some artefacts down on the rock/ice interface. Naturally they excavated a shaft to extract them, but what was interesting about them is they were somehow fused into the rock, and hemispheric chunks of rock all over the glacier floor had oddities in them. Some of them were I guess you could call them averaged, molecules of different types were completely homogenised throughout the volume in a way that was statistically impossible, others had pockets of perfect vacuum in them, the shape of them corresponding to ancient runes but with no visible access for how they could have formed.
RY: Miraculous stuff, but how does it tie back into your research?
ErHU: *Laughs* Miracles indeed. What Im arguing is that the Ancients had full and channel less control over matter and energy, they could make rock or metal or Adamantium flow and reshape itself on their whim as an individual capacity. Somewhere out there, on Yan or one of the other worlds touched by the Ancients, is a literal and real Manus Dei the Hand of God. Whoever harnesses that ability could remake their environment on whim.
RY: I suppose the natural counter point o theological grounds is if the Ancients had that power, why do we not see more wide scale changes to the worlds? If they could remake everything why didnt they.
ErHU: I am surprised at you Riy, our entire ethos is built on the Ancients being someone to look up to. Restraint is one of the ten virtues after all. Though I am unsure if humanity can live up to that example.
alex994
Hail Divine Emperor!
OOC: That's funny. Our trash = the future's cultural artifacts.
alex994
Hail Divine Emperor!
A Sword for a Foul Rose
“I remember when our people journeyed in peace in our great caravans, living in communion with the land. We would go for months simply harvesting crops and foraging with the great bounty of Oia offering all we needed. Then you came. You brought medicine, technology, and so many promises. Then the Standards came. They brought death, orphans and disease. The Standards might be devils but at least they aren’t liars.” –Noch Manderlyt Mandd, spokesperson for the Oiat Mernt League, at Prime Minister’s Questions
----------------
“Look! Look! Look!”
He felt a little pull on his sleeves. Looking down, he managed a tepid smile at his young half-brother. It had been the little squirt’s idea to go have fun with the massive crowds of people. He glanced back up at the spectacle. Not really impressed. At least not yet.
Much more interesting was all the pretty girls lining up. He smiled. His mother had been positively beaming when he agreed to take his young half-brother along for the trip, thinking he had finally come to accept the new marriage, step-father and of course, the half-brother. Not at all. Having a little brother was the perfect way to meet girls, which was precisely why he had staked out a spot very close to the beginning of the route. He grinned. He couldn’t wait until the Standardite ambassador had gone. People would be milling around and just talking about the experience. Then he and his very enthusiastic little half-brother would just join conversations and blend in. Nobody’s scared of a handsome young man, such as himself, who was nice enough to bring along his obviously much younger brother to see a nice parade. Life would be good.
Hearing the screams, he abruptly stopped admiring a cute brunette girl sitting across the stand and refocused his attention but the loud voice-phones told him what he wanted to know long before his eyes could find the source of the commotion.
“People of Larsilla! I am His Excellency, the High Ambassador of the Standards, Archimedes Sujiston!!”
The ambassador was riding a massive colored robo-horse! Sharply colored streamers flew in the wind alongside the ambassador who was himself surrounded on all sides by a platoon of sharply ornamented, heavily armed escorts. They looked like images from his childhood’s holobooks: ancient conquistadors descending upon a virgin and primitive world hell-bent on seizing it for their own and enslaving its people after the great Tumult.
The ambassador would raise a hand and miniature cannons would fire paper mache with gifts inter-dispersed here and there. Man, it was pretty cool. The ambassador dude sure knew how to make a good impression. His little brother was going crazy with excitement. Jumping up and down, he almost fell over from his exuberance. It was pretty funny. He even forgot about the girls for a second. He was sure he was grinning like an idiot.
His grin only got larger when he saw them.
The Protesters.
Oiat Mernt, their supporters and their sympathizers. Adorned in the latest fashions from Oia and holding up large banners protesting the illegal invasion, occupation and general destruction of Oia, he had heard his mother talk about the extensive government plans to prevent trouble.
To his credit, the ambassador didn’t stop smiling for a second. Prancing past the cordoned protestors, he bowed and swept his hat in a grandiose and mocking gesture. For all intents and purposes, the ambassador just treated them like everyone else. Smart. If he had done something else, all the Oiates would have gone crazy in outrage. Might have even tried to mob the procession. Nothing got refined and worldly girls more riled up than an international incident.
Too bad.
----------------------------------
The buzz was annoying.
She had landed at the cesspool of the city for only a few hours and she already found the Standardites to be ever so boring. Turning her head to her companion, she smirked “My my. This entire society is based off their men trying to overcompensate. Their women must be so unhappy. Why else would the men go walking around with so many guns” smiling the whole time as she glanced around the room. “What a bunch of little girls”.
Glancing furtively, her companion eeked out a reluctant smile and started whispering “I don’t think that’s smart. Archimedes Sujiston has only arrived in Larsilla. Your father would be very angry if you got shot; would be horrible publicity”. She laughed, shaking her head and her brown curls. “My father can go jump out of an airlock, Rad. This buy off the stupid barbarians idea is stupid policy. We’re in a swimming competition with the Standardites and the Oiat Mernt are a weight tied to our feet. No offense.”
Rad frowned and scowled “That’s easy for you to say Vanessa. The so-called renegade Standardites are wrecking havoc on the frontier. Larsilla has begun issuing weapons to anyone going to the Oiat territories, there’s even talk of an orbital bombardment of the renegades. The Oiat are the only reason the treaty was even agreed to and now it might not even apply. People are angry and the invasion only pisses them off.” Readjusting his rifle, he took another swig and grimaced “if it’s what Airhabor considers fine liquor, then goddamn them all. Can’t even make decent liquor.”
The incessant buzzing gave way to shots and then laughter as a huge pack of Standardites appeared in the distance, their voices being heard long before they could be seen.
“Look ya’ll at whut we gut! A damn mernie. It’s still muving.” “Oy yah!” “A mernie!”
She cocked an eyebrow at Rad who slowly shook his head and whispered “It’s not our place” as her hands became fists.
The pack stopped in front of the tavern and began parading their victim, shouting “A mernie! See a mernie! Still kicking oy!”, erupting once more in laughter.
When she saw the Mernt, she felt her mind lose control as her body sprang up. Her hands swatted Rad aside as he reached out to grab her before pulling out two pistols and pushing her way through the Standardite pack until she was next to the child. His clothes had been torn with cuts and bruises all over his body. Their eyes met for a second before he averted his gaze and looked down.
She glared at the pack with their mocking and snickering smiles only aggravating her further. The giant beast holding the child looked on bemused and yelled out:
“Oy everybudy! We got here a gurl with two little guns. A Csseripod me thinks!” and just ignored her death-glare.
Holstering one of her guns, she walked up to him and stood on her tip-toes before grabbing him by his collar “Look you little puppy, this little show is over”. The giant beast blinked at her, roared in laughter, picked her up, and swung her around while grabbing her butt “Two for one! Ma lucky day! You’re mine now haha. Purty little thing, gunna have a tun of fun with ya.” She could hear the pack of animals roar in laughter as she caught a glimpse of an extremely pale Rad. She smirked and whispered to the beast “you’ll regret this”.
Using the head, she did a mini somersault and landed behind him. Three quick blows knocked him down on his feet with a well-placed kick forcing him on the ground.
The laughter died down as the pack just stared at her in part amazement and part checking her out. She was gorgeous after all and they've probably never seen a real woman. Until now.
She beamed at the pack while she took the giant’s weapons and sat down, casually cleaning one of the pistols while she looked over the crowd.
“Show’s over kiddos. The kid’s going back to Csseripodia with me.”
“I remember when our people journeyed in peace in our great caravans, living in communion with the land. We would go for months simply harvesting crops and foraging with the great bounty of Oia offering all we needed. Then you came. You brought medicine, technology, and so many promises. Then the Standards came. They brought death, orphans and disease. The Standards might be devils but at least they aren’t liars.” –Noch Manderlyt Mandd, spokesperson for the Oiat Mernt League, at Prime Minister’s Questions
----------------
“Look! Look! Look!”
He felt a little pull on his sleeves. Looking down, he managed a tepid smile at his young half-brother. It had been the little squirt’s idea to go have fun with the massive crowds of people. He glanced back up at the spectacle. Not really impressed. At least not yet.
Much more interesting was all the pretty girls lining up. He smiled. His mother had been positively beaming when he agreed to take his young half-brother along for the trip, thinking he had finally come to accept the new marriage, step-father and of course, the half-brother. Not at all. Having a little brother was the perfect way to meet girls, which was precisely why he had staked out a spot very close to the beginning of the route. He grinned. He couldn’t wait until the Standardite ambassador had gone. People would be milling around and just talking about the experience. Then he and his very enthusiastic little half-brother would just join conversations and blend in. Nobody’s scared of a handsome young man, such as himself, who was nice enough to bring along his obviously much younger brother to see a nice parade. Life would be good.
Hearing the screams, he abruptly stopped admiring a cute brunette girl sitting across the stand and refocused his attention but the loud voice-phones told him what he wanted to know long before his eyes could find the source of the commotion.
“People of Larsilla! I am His Excellency, the High Ambassador of the Standards, Archimedes Sujiston!!”
The ambassador was riding a massive colored robo-horse! Sharply colored streamers flew in the wind alongside the ambassador who was himself surrounded on all sides by a platoon of sharply ornamented, heavily armed escorts. They looked like images from his childhood’s holobooks: ancient conquistadors descending upon a virgin and primitive world hell-bent on seizing it for their own and enslaving its people after the great Tumult.
The ambassador would raise a hand and miniature cannons would fire paper mache with gifts inter-dispersed here and there. Man, it was pretty cool. The ambassador dude sure knew how to make a good impression. His little brother was going crazy with excitement. Jumping up and down, he almost fell over from his exuberance. It was pretty funny. He even forgot about the girls for a second. He was sure he was grinning like an idiot.
His grin only got larger when he saw them.
The Protesters.
Oiat Mernt, their supporters and their sympathizers. Adorned in the latest fashions from Oia and holding up large banners protesting the illegal invasion, occupation and general destruction of Oia, he had heard his mother talk about the extensive government plans to prevent trouble.
To his credit, the ambassador didn’t stop smiling for a second. Prancing past the cordoned protestors, he bowed and swept his hat in a grandiose and mocking gesture. For all intents and purposes, the ambassador just treated them like everyone else. Smart. If he had done something else, all the Oiates would have gone crazy in outrage. Might have even tried to mob the procession. Nothing got refined and worldly girls more riled up than an international incident.
Too bad.
----------------------------------
The buzz was annoying.
She had landed at the cesspool of the city for only a few hours and she already found the Standardites to be ever so boring. Turning her head to her companion, she smirked “My my. This entire society is based off their men trying to overcompensate. Their women must be so unhappy. Why else would the men go walking around with so many guns” smiling the whole time as she glanced around the room. “What a bunch of little girls”.
Glancing furtively, her companion eeked out a reluctant smile and started whispering “I don’t think that’s smart. Archimedes Sujiston has only arrived in Larsilla. Your father would be very angry if you got shot; would be horrible publicity”. She laughed, shaking her head and her brown curls. “My father can go jump out of an airlock, Rad. This buy off the stupid barbarians idea is stupid policy. We’re in a swimming competition with the Standardites and the Oiat Mernt are a weight tied to our feet. No offense.”
Rad frowned and scowled “That’s easy for you to say Vanessa. The so-called renegade Standardites are wrecking havoc on the frontier. Larsilla has begun issuing weapons to anyone going to the Oiat territories, there’s even talk of an orbital bombardment of the renegades. The Oiat are the only reason the treaty was even agreed to and now it might not even apply. People are angry and the invasion only pisses them off.” Readjusting his rifle, he took another swig and grimaced “if it’s what Airhabor considers fine liquor, then goddamn them all. Can’t even make decent liquor.”
The incessant buzzing gave way to shots and then laughter as a huge pack of Standardites appeared in the distance, their voices being heard long before they could be seen.
“Look ya’ll at whut we gut! A damn mernie. It’s still muving.” “Oy yah!” “A mernie!”
She cocked an eyebrow at Rad who slowly shook his head and whispered “It’s not our place” as her hands became fists.
The pack stopped in front of the tavern and began parading their victim, shouting “A mernie! See a mernie! Still kicking oy!”, erupting once more in laughter.
When she saw the Mernt, she felt her mind lose control as her body sprang up. Her hands swatted Rad aside as he reached out to grab her before pulling out two pistols and pushing her way through the Standardite pack until she was next to the child. His clothes had been torn with cuts and bruises all over his body. Their eyes met for a second before he averted his gaze and looked down.
She glared at the pack with their mocking and snickering smiles only aggravating her further. The giant beast holding the child looked on bemused and yelled out:
“Oy everybudy! We got here a gurl with two little guns. A Csseripod me thinks!” and just ignored her death-glare.
Holstering one of her guns, she walked up to him and stood on her tip-toes before grabbing him by his collar “Look you little puppy, this little show is over”. The giant beast blinked at her, roared in laughter, picked her up, and swung her around while grabbing her butt “Two for one! Ma lucky day! You’re mine now haha. Purty little thing, gunna have a tun of fun with ya.” She could hear the pack of animals roar in laughter as she caught a glimpse of an extremely pale Rad. She smirked and whispered to the beast “you’ll regret this”.
Using the head, she did a mini somersault and landed behind him. Three quick blows knocked him down on his feet with a well-placed kick forcing him on the ground.
The laughter died down as the pack just stared at her in part amazement and part checking her out. She was gorgeous after all and they've probably never seen a real woman. Until now.
She beamed at the pack while she took the giant’s weapons and sat down, casually cleaning one of the pistols while she looked over the crowd.
“Show’s over kiddos. The kid’s going back to Csseripodia with me.”
Disenfrancised
Beep Beep
Haha, as much as I enjoy the making fun of the Standardites, can we not have every story end up with them being beaten up. Being good at close combat is kinda their whole thing after all .
Also the Standard are good on gender equality - the women tote guns and attitudes at least as bad as the menfolk
. Plus gender dimorphism is low for all the Dathic descendants, the women are as liable to beat you up as the menfolk.
.Also the Standard are good on gender equality - the women tote guns and attitudes at least as bad as the menfolk
. Plus gender dimorphism is low for all the Dathic descendants, the women are as liable to beat you up as the menfolk.
Thlayli
Le Pétit Prince
I reckon it's the sci-fi equivalent of penis envy. I might have some story of my own later tonight.
From: The Standard Confederacy
To: The Zera Consensus
The Adama Townships have been crying far and wide for a protector because of the...recent unpleasantness. We’d like to speak a little on their behalf in a friendly fashion. Perhaps you could just stop menacing them with extinction and occupation for a thin moment.
To emphasize the point, we’d like to state that we guarantee their survival. It’s true, your nasty fortresses would do some damage if we tried to land troops to enforce that, but we’d land them nonetheless. And that’d be far more expensive than a peaceable settlement. Even supposing you won, we could probably blockade your planet. But all that's not really necessary, if you ask us.
We propose that the townships pay some sort of restitution for their past crimes, which would be far more useful to you than occupying a population of people that don’t share your modifications, and won’t likely take them. We'd be happy to negotiate a treaty that satisfies all our needs. What's more, the Zera might find the Standards willing trading partners if you'll back down this once.
And this isn't a trick or anything. We wouldn't bother sending this out if we wanted to shoot first.
From: The Standard Confederacy
To: The Zera Consensus
The Adama Townships have been crying far and wide for a protector because of the...recent unpleasantness. We’d like to speak a little on their behalf in a friendly fashion. Perhaps you could just stop menacing them with extinction and occupation for a thin moment.
To emphasize the point, we’d like to state that we guarantee their survival. It’s true, your nasty fortresses would do some damage if we tried to land troops to enforce that, but we’d land them nonetheless. And that’d be far more expensive than a peaceable settlement. Even supposing you won, we could probably blockade your planet. But all that's not really necessary, if you ask us.
We propose that the townships pay some sort of restitution for their past crimes, which would be far more useful to you than occupying a population of people that don’t share your modifications, and won’t likely take them. We'd be happy to negotiate a treaty that satisfies all our needs. What's more, the Zera might find the Standards willing trading partners if you'll back down this once.
And this isn't a trick or anything. We wouldn't bother sending this out if we wanted to shoot first.
Disenfrancised
Beep Beep
A Day in the Life: 1
Weightlessness should have been easier.
Every time he had been in space before it had been easier. That was on the ships and habitats of his own people though. Here everything was just slightly not right in agonisingly little ways. The corners and the wall equipment were too sharp. The lights were too bright and too numerous. Although the air was easy enough to swim through the lack of water made him feel sluggish and ungainly. Most of all everything was just slightly too small. Keeping the tail rather than swapping in his legs was something he was regretting every day of his time here in Phaeton.
*Crack!*
He winced at the sound. Hed thought hed coiled his way round that last corner very gracefully but something must still have caught on his skin as he went past. The integument of a Deluger was a hardy and thick thing and it wasnt much more than a dull ache of pain. He quickly pulled his tail round and inspected it for abrasions. The sudden movement startled a few of his hosts at the fair end of the brightly lit corridor. Their wings and spines drew them close to the wall gripping sockets far more elegantly than he had. He paid them no mind as they were far too polite to mention the damages he was causing. His green and grey skin seemed unmarred by any sort of cut or scrape for which he was thankful. He uncoiled it and smiled at his Ilosian handlers.
No harm done! Just caught on something
They nodded their pretty little faces and started down the corridor again. He knew they could sprint or even jet down the octagonal shafts much faster than they were moving now. The politeness was appreciated. It was for politeness sake that he wore this ridiculous shirt and hat in the Dathic style for he knew that some clades got hung up on such things. The Ilosians certainly had before theyd gotten used to the exposure of the glorious Deluger form. Not that they were overconcerned with formality of clothing for their various on robes and coveralls often fringed on the idiosyncratic. The new arrivals however were known to be much more pedestrian in their mode of attire. He chuckled at the relic word that was so little employed by his people but so apt now. Most spacefarers did not bother with shoes but as he understood it these Hankish were very in touch with the dirt and roughness of planets.
He turned as the shaft bent and joined a much wider chamber. The air was thinner in this airy volume and the Phaeton atmosphere was hardly a heady broth to begin with. He surreptitiously opened a few of the vents in his tail and ran the airstream over his exchange surfaces as they crossed the chamber. Hed not expected it on this posting but he had received quite the daily work out on the course of his duties. He smiled to think of what his wife would say at the lean shape he was in. He looked forward to the day when light-minutes would no longer separate them.
The plaza chamber was just as brilliantly lit as the corridor and he could see everything quite clearly. A few Ilosians hung off delicate stands of carved silver and chatted. Rather more zipped through the chamber on some errand or other wearing the light environmental suits the Ilosians favoured for vacuum work. By far the largest number was a flock of school children being minded by a single young teacher. They were clambering all over a meshwork of white plastic in the shape of some sort of crab. As he heard their hoots and hollers he cringed to think of the term another of the ambassadorial party had coined spiderlings. For the children were too young to have jets or panels or the other add-ons that made the adults look like wings but still had adult-sized manipulator legs grafted onto their tiny lower backs. The resemblance was hard to unseen once seen. He chastised himself and focused his gaze on their tiny elfin faces with the white blond hair and silver highlights. They were as human as he was after all. He managed the transition into the corridor on the other side of the chamber with rather more grace. He was glad to feel more like a sleek eel than a blundering elk for once.
The meeting room was close to here he half remember from a much earlier trip he had made to Phaeton. It was one of the few places in the whole habitat made into a proper box with a distinct up-down arrangement of furniture. The Ilosians kept it to put visitors from mesogravity and higher environments at ease. Theyd used it for some of the preparatory discussion with the Order he recalled. Before the Ilosian diplomats had returned from the Unbreaking Wave and seen how the Delugers shared their little regard for up-down arrangements. The Chief Negotiators had had a good laugh over the whole thing over drinks. Maybe the Hankish would be the same way but it was better to overreach on the politeness front than put them off their ease. This may only be a preliminary meeting between junior diplomats to set the agenda but the niceties still needed to be observed.
He entered the room and nodded at his Ilosian opposite number. He had worked with Vstinen on a number of occasions and they got along splendidly. Since they were on Ilosian ground Vstinen would be the one leading the meeting. There were several types of chair and gripping surface on the rooms floor but the room was dominated by a single basalt table. Carved from a single rock it anchored the room with its weight and mass. For negotiating with baselines it helped provide perspective and safety. Despite their light and slender main bodies the Ilosians actually took up an intimidating amount of space with their wings and robes and his own considerable bulk went without saying. Letting them fold themselves away behind the large table made them seem smaller and more approachable to the other side. That was the idea anyway. He found a nice grip patch and coiled his tail under the table. Only his solid and clothed upper body would be visible.
Vstinen looked at him with a raised eyebrow and he nodded in reply. A tiny blue light flicked on and off in some of the metalwork on the Ilosians silver spine. Hed always found voiceless communication a bit creepy but it had its advantages during diplomatic pageantry. One of Vstinens assistants was doubtlessly guiding the Hankishman through the antechamber within seconds of the signal. Seconds later the door did open and the new arrival to the system stepped through. Hed dealt with Dathic before and this man seemed archetypical apart from some oddities. The surface impression was tall and impossibly handsome with an immaculately turned out suit. But when you dived past the surface you saw the pain in his eyes and the strange accruements he had. The boots were tough and hard wearing rather than formal. Around his neck hung necklaces in place of a tie with scraps of metal and closed keepsakes. Possibly some sort of memento for what he has lost? It would be something to think on later. Vstinen was concluding his introduction and it was time to say his piece. His deep bass of a voice was a strong contrast to Vstinens light and lilting tones. There were advantages to having extended lungs and a lowered diaphragm when it came to making a strong impression.
Thank you Negociator Vstinen. It is very pleasant to meet you Mr Toong. I am Assistant Ambassador Hei Nocommas and will be negociating here on behalf of the Most Exalted Order of the Infinite Deluge
Weightlessness should have been easier.
Every time he had been in space before it had been easier. That was on the ships and habitats of his own people though. Here everything was just slightly not right in agonisingly little ways. The corners and the wall equipment were too sharp. The lights were too bright and too numerous. Although the air was easy enough to swim through the lack of water made him feel sluggish and ungainly. Most of all everything was just slightly too small. Keeping the tail rather than swapping in his legs was something he was regretting every day of his time here in Phaeton.
*Crack!*
He winced at the sound. Hed thought hed coiled his way round that last corner very gracefully but something must still have caught on his skin as he went past. The integument of a Deluger was a hardy and thick thing and it wasnt much more than a dull ache of pain. He quickly pulled his tail round and inspected it for abrasions. The sudden movement startled a few of his hosts at the fair end of the brightly lit corridor. Their wings and spines drew them close to the wall gripping sockets far more elegantly than he had. He paid them no mind as they were far too polite to mention the damages he was causing. His green and grey skin seemed unmarred by any sort of cut or scrape for which he was thankful. He uncoiled it and smiled at his Ilosian handlers.
No harm done! Just caught on something
They nodded their pretty little faces and started down the corridor again. He knew they could sprint or even jet down the octagonal shafts much faster than they were moving now. The politeness was appreciated. It was for politeness sake that he wore this ridiculous shirt and hat in the Dathic style for he knew that some clades got hung up on such things. The Ilosians certainly had before theyd gotten used to the exposure of the glorious Deluger form. Not that they were overconcerned with formality of clothing for their various on robes and coveralls often fringed on the idiosyncratic. The new arrivals however were known to be much more pedestrian in their mode of attire. He chuckled at the relic word that was so little employed by his people but so apt now. Most spacefarers did not bother with shoes but as he understood it these Hankish were very in touch with the dirt and roughness of planets.
He turned as the shaft bent and joined a much wider chamber. The air was thinner in this airy volume and the Phaeton atmosphere was hardly a heady broth to begin with. He surreptitiously opened a few of the vents in his tail and ran the airstream over his exchange surfaces as they crossed the chamber. Hed not expected it on this posting but he had received quite the daily work out on the course of his duties. He smiled to think of what his wife would say at the lean shape he was in. He looked forward to the day when light-minutes would no longer separate them.
The plaza chamber was just as brilliantly lit as the corridor and he could see everything quite clearly. A few Ilosians hung off delicate stands of carved silver and chatted. Rather more zipped through the chamber on some errand or other wearing the light environmental suits the Ilosians favoured for vacuum work. By far the largest number was a flock of school children being minded by a single young teacher. They were clambering all over a meshwork of white plastic in the shape of some sort of crab. As he heard their hoots and hollers he cringed to think of the term another of the ambassadorial party had coined spiderlings. For the children were too young to have jets or panels or the other add-ons that made the adults look like wings but still had adult-sized manipulator legs grafted onto their tiny lower backs. The resemblance was hard to unseen once seen. He chastised himself and focused his gaze on their tiny elfin faces with the white blond hair and silver highlights. They were as human as he was after all. He managed the transition into the corridor on the other side of the chamber with rather more grace. He was glad to feel more like a sleek eel than a blundering elk for once.
The meeting room was close to here he half remember from a much earlier trip he had made to Phaeton. It was one of the few places in the whole habitat made into a proper box with a distinct up-down arrangement of furniture. The Ilosians kept it to put visitors from mesogravity and higher environments at ease. Theyd used it for some of the preparatory discussion with the Order he recalled. Before the Ilosian diplomats had returned from the Unbreaking Wave and seen how the Delugers shared their little regard for up-down arrangements. The Chief Negotiators had had a good laugh over the whole thing over drinks. Maybe the Hankish would be the same way but it was better to overreach on the politeness front than put them off their ease. This may only be a preliminary meeting between junior diplomats to set the agenda but the niceties still needed to be observed.
He entered the room and nodded at his Ilosian opposite number. He had worked with Vstinen on a number of occasions and they got along splendidly. Since they were on Ilosian ground Vstinen would be the one leading the meeting. There were several types of chair and gripping surface on the rooms floor but the room was dominated by a single basalt table. Carved from a single rock it anchored the room with its weight and mass. For negotiating with baselines it helped provide perspective and safety. Despite their light and slender main bodies the Ilosians actually took up an intimidating amount of space with their wings and robes and his own considerable bulk went without saying. Letting them fold themselves away behind the large table made them seem smaller and more approachable to the other side. That was the idea anyway. He found a nice grip patch and coiled his tail under the table. Only his solid and clothed upper body would be visible.
Vstinen looked at him with a raised eyebrow and he nodded in reply. A tiny blue light flicked on and off in some of the metalwork on the Ilosians silver spine. Hed always found voiceless communication a bit creepy but it had its advantages during diplomatic pageantry. One of Vstinens assistants was doubtlessly guiding the Hankishman through the antechamber within seconds of the signal. Seconds later the door did open and the new arrival to the system stepped through. Hed dealt with Dathic before and this man seemed archetypical apart from some oddities. The surface impression was tall and impossibly handsome with an immaculately turned out suit. But when you dived past the surface you saw the pain in his eyes and the strange accruements he had. The boots were tough and hard wearing rather than formal. Around his neck hung necklaces in place of a tie with scraps of metal and closed keepsakes. Possibly some sort of memento for what he has lost? It would be something to think on later. Vstinen was concluding his introduction and it was time to say his piece. His deep bass of a voice was a strong contrast to Vstinens light and lilting tones. There were advantages to having extended lungs and a lowered diaphragm when it came to making a strong impression.
Thank you Negociator Vstinen. It is very pleasant to meet you Mr Toong. I am Assistant Ambassador Hei Nocommas and will be negociating here on behalf of the Most Exalted Order of the Infinite Deluge
Kraznaya
Princeps
The commentary was really about clauses, not commas, but you knew that already.
Disenfrancised
Beep Beep
The commentary was really about clauses, not commas, but you knew that already.
I'll clause your eyes out!
Symphony D.
Deity
Inconspicuous
[tab]The swirling stripes straddling the girth of the local great Jovian (the Banded Cathedral) loomed in their entire splendor outside the transparent metal window. The planet was not close enough to present a curvature-less wall, but it nonetheless dominated what scenery there was. The station’s orbit was such that the Cathedral’s terminator made it seem gibbous, and lightning storms snaked and flickered silently across its night-side. Inter-station traffic flitted nearby on low power, and far away above the clouds of the Cathedral burned the occasional drive torch--the volatiles shipments of the acerbic Valk Irinate 45 being launched to orbit for consumption across the subsector. The station managed a rotational gravity analogue that, while not quite up to standard levels, was more comfortable than zero-g. Its orbit and rotational rate coincided to make views of the planet long and lingering.
[tab]The window composed one wall of a space dock terminal that was sparse but not entirely unpleasant, decorated in monochrome shades coupled to imitation-wood frames. The occasional splashes of color served to lighten the mood, as did the ubiquitous display panes flashing feeds and advertisements everywhere. A combination bar and café was against the wall facing the window, and between the two laid a large and orderly formation of dining tables split down the middle for easy through-access. It was a quaint all-in one job. In its totality, the feel of the place managed to vaguely resemble what had once been known as Scandinavian modern, although it was well over five millennia and going on a thousand light years removed from that relation.
[tab]The terminal was deserted except for a pair of people and a hopelessly border server.
[tab]She was of rather standard Cosmopolitan stock, albeit with a twist, her bronzed face capped by hair a straight sandy blonde rather than the typical black, and her eyes a dark hazel. She wore a no-nonsense gray tunic with honeydew accents over sage pants, and a nametag reading “Amante;” a uniform denoting her as one of the customs and immigration officers of the Chandelier Commonwealth--a truly impressive polity comprising the entirety of the station. She was rigid in a way that was all angles, and seemed intently focused on something behind the other person.
[tab]He was a trim giant of a man with a stark and sharp face beneath an effortless forward swept faux hawk, his skin was a pallid white. Occasionally what almost seemed like black lines of code would trickle across it vertically, like living tattoos. His clothing, while appearing brand new itself, was in a style tracing its roots back as far if not farther than the room’s: a deep space black suit, black tie, a shirt even whiter than his skin, and a pair of prim, rectangular sunglasses. The Cathedral’s weak red parent star of Lipsid Beta was a distant ember half a rotation away, and the windows filtered its glare even when it was up--this last fashion item was purely an affectation. He was the tip of the spear, the first multifunction liaison to visit this place on behalf of the Praxzen Bureaucracy. His pose was easy, a small durable black case in one hand.
[tab]“Your identification, please?” she asked.
[tab]There was the slightest of shudders as the inter-orbital taxi which had delivered him undocked from the terminal. He produced for her a petite datapad seemingly from nowhere without missing a beat.
[tab]She took it cautiously. It was of course not in any format she had seen before, no one from his world having ever (officially) visited the Chandelier Commonwealth. Nonetheless, it was intelligible enough and seemed to check out, noting him as an agent of the Foreign Relations Bureau, whatever that was. She copied the data--the hardline protocols were curiously ancient but serviceable—into local systems before passing the datapad back. “And the nature of your visit, Mr. Kashani?”
[tab]“Business.”
[tab]She made a note of it, adding “What sort of--”
[tab]But he cut her off, saying “This is rather quaint décor you have, quite impressive considering. I was just beginning to tire of all the neo-brutalist-functionalism. It’s quite refreshing.”
[tab]She faltered for a moment at this, and the silence that hung in the air was sufficient for him to progress onward.
[tab]“How well do your recycling systems handle excess chlorine compounds?”
[tab]“Excuse me?”
[tab]He shook his head slightly, “Sorry, you wouldn’t be the person to ask about that.”
[tab]“Sir,” she now seemed perplexed, going on suspicious, “I’m going to have to ask to scan your baggage.”
[tab]“Oh, of course,” he said, holding it out.
[tab]She took it and ran it through a miniaturized scanning device at her side, designed to peer through containers using various frequencies of electromagnetic radiation and sound, and to sniff for certain illicit or dangerous chemical traces. As it turned out, the case was opaque to all such investigations. It sat before both active and passive scanning as an inert enigma. It was concerning.
[tab]“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to open the case.”
[tab]“Oh, no, I wouldn’t recommend that.”
[tab]“I’m sorry?” with now deeper shades of concern.
[tab]“I’m not sure the contents would respond well to a containment breach,” he said with a blasé note, apparently intensely interested in one of the dining tables.
[tab]“Sir, I must insist,” she said sternly, a hand creeping toward the security alert button on one wrist.
[tab]Although her motion was quite well practiced and natural, at this action his head slowly pivoted to face her like a turret, his brow furrowing.
[tab]Her eyes widened a fraction.
[tab]He reached a hand up and delicately held one lens of his sunglasses, pulling forward with it while also tilting his head back, sliding them off in a well-polished motion. Their absence revealed the dark patches around his closed eyes, which suddenly snapped open. They were entirely of the deepest black, and despite the lack of reference, she could tell that they seemed to be looking straight through her. He leaned in a few degrees, suddenly towering over her. “Do I look like a two-bit terrorist to you, Ms. Amante?” he said, with slow, ireful indignation.
[tab]She found herself grasping for words.
[tab]While she struggled, he deftly replaced his sunglasses and picked up the case, keying it open with the ease that comes from rote memory before opening it and holding it open just centimeters from her face. “Sandwiches,” he said without irony, “do not touch.”
[tab]As she stared into it there did indeed seem to be various food stuffs in precisely segmented and individually sealed containers. He closed the case with a sudden snap in front of her, it hissing as it sought to reestablish its normally much lower internal pressure. He brought it back to his side and resumed his impossibly easy-going pose.
[tab]“As to your question, my business here is that I intend to lay the groundwork for a convention. Given your performance thus far in treating the representative of a foreign government far your better, I would prefer to speak with your superior about accommodations.”
[tab]She continued to struggle to comport herself, frozen for a moment.
[tab]He gave her what under any different preceding circumstances would have been an exceedingly winsome smile, and waited only a moment before adding the politest “Please,” she had ever heard.
###
Disenfrancised
Beep Beep
Hah, good story.
THIS IS YOUR 23 HOUR DEADLINE. ORDERS FOR THE ORDER GOD. STORIES FOR THE STORY THRONE.
THIS IS YOUR 23 HOUR DEADLINE. ORDERS FOR THE ORDER GOD. STORIES FOR THE STORY THRONE.
Kraznaya
Princeps
o.o wouldn't the deadline properly be 12 PM, then?
Disenfrancised
Beep Beep
...indeed!