NationStates Jolt Archive

Lady Fíora was laying on the bed in a white dress with golden rope belt when Inbhailígh entered their bedroom.

"Dear, I've been having second thoughts about that vacation we were planning. First it was the Southern Erg, then the Rainforests, now you've decided on Kasei."

"If you're worried about distance, instantaneous jump drives make that a non-issue."

"No, it's not that, it's just that-"

"Ah! You're worried that I'll change my mind again."

"No, not that, either."

"You want to go somewhere else? No? Then what?"

"It's Galan." The Steward's mouth opened as he was about to say something, but he was quickly shushed. "Now, before you say anything more, let me get a few words in. Of course, there's the issue of Calypso Royen. Maybe it would ease his nerves to see her for a bit, but if we go, and they never get to meet up, it could be something lurking in the back of his mind, giving him a bad mood and ruining it. There's something to be said for 'out of sight, out of mind,' y'know."

"There's also something to be said for 'absence makes the...' er, I mean distance makes... something. Um... you know what I mean. they stay apart, they miss each other, they really do fall in love later."

"Or they meet up much later and discover that they don't like each other any more."

"Yes. Well. Hey, shouldn't that've been one of my arguments?"

A wry smile played across Fíora's face. "I think we'd need a third party to fit that in."

"Well, I think that's enough of discussing our son's romances. I've had enough politics for today." He flopped onto the bed beside her with a sigh, kicking off his boots as she giggled at his attitude. "So, what else is there?"

"More Galan, but nothing to do with girls or anything of the sort."

"Politics?"

"I'm afraid so."

"Bleh... well, let's get it over with."

"I'm concerned that he's losing track of his roots. This whole nation was founded on Celdr and Scyldr cultures, and it's been that way for all of its history, all of our history. The only deviations are House Ur, and House Royen, that little bit of Serik, or whatever they call it, from the Erg. I have no idea how he got into it, but he's been increasingly moving towards Southern decor, clothing, music... everything! And pulling Neasa along with him."

"I see what you mean. And Aidean, well... he's unique, I'll leave it at that. But, he's been like that since he was five! Why wait till now to worry?"

"Because he was five! I guess I always just thought that it would pass. Every little boy goes through something like that, right? Dinosaurs, lizards, Superman...."

"M-hm. Or computers, stealth, and cyberdecking."

"Oh, come on, I'm serious. We're talking about Galan, not Aidean."

"Well, I don't know what I'm supposed to do about it. Let me guess: you're worried that taking him to Kasei, and exposing him to more of that Southern culture will contaminate his tastes beyond recovery? Well, if that's the direction he's going to take the Empire when we're gone, so be it."

"You're not concerned? You've got one of the most solidly Celdr bloddlines there is!"

"Why should I be? Sure, I'm proud of my ancestry, and I may be a bit sad about it, nostalgic, but I doubt I'll live long enough to see any major alterations. And I expect Achaíría, or Achaíría's successor, as the case may be will keep him in check for the most part. We'll just end up with more evenly distributed demographics."

Just then, Galan ran by the slightly ajar door, yelling something in Celíminé, decked out in leather boots, leather pants with chain mail leggings, a chain mail shirt, a robin-hood hat, and an emerald necklace for decoration. Skidding to a stop, he stepped back and peered through the door. "Um, sorry if I'm disturbing something, but I'm going down to the river with Naíbeulan. Amharcu!"

Fíora and Inbhailígh turned to look at each other, and spontaneously burts into giggles.

"Well, I guess that settles that. I think we can risk a bit of Royen culture."

Everything was good. They were here, on the shuttle, about to arrive at Mars, Achaíría and Lord Moiríartí were taking care of things back home... it was good. For once, the Royal Family would be out of the public eye, and Inbhailígh wouldn't have to worry about politics for an entire month.

This was definitely very, very good.

Suddenly, the videoscreen on the front wall of the passenger compartment of their small shuttle lit up, signalling the exit from warpspace. The view from external cameras was projected onto the screen, as though it were a large picture window. In order to save time, they skipped orbital insertion and went straight on into final descent, relying entirely on aerobraking and a low initial velocity.

They entered Martian space above a newly forming body of water. In a few months, the reservoir discharge would turn it into a full-fleged inland sea. http://home-1.worldonline.nl/~veenen/terragen/mars/hesperiaplanum22t.jpg

Down and down they went, faster and faster, racing over over the landscape below. They passed over the edge of the fledgling Hellas Seas within minutes. http://home-1.worldonline.nl/~veenen/terragen/mars/hesperiaplanum17t.jpg

From there, they passed over some quite boring landscape. Nothing but desert and aquaduct for thousands of kliks, finally reaching the forming ocean. Soon, they'd hit the borders of Bajon at the edge of the Boreal Sea and have an up-close-and personal view of Mons Olympus. http://home-1.worldonline.nl/~veenen/terragen/mars/mons18t.jpghttp://home-1.worldonline.nl/~veenen/terragen/mars/mons17t.jpg

On over Menelmacar, and the three volcanos. In the distance, on the horizon, a thin line could be seen, topped by dark blotches- the stem and leaves of Yggdrasil. Now they were over Sunset, with a nice view of Labyrinthus Noctis. http://www.physics.adelaide.edu.au/~pmcgee/tform/labnocsm.jpghttp://home-1.worldonline.nl/~veenen/terragen/mars/ieg0062tc18t.jpg They had lost a great deal of speed and altitude, and the shuttle began to act more like a plane than a ballistic missile. Still, in the thin Martian air, the wings were more for very slight steering than for generating lift.

Up next, perhaps the second greatest scene of the journey. Valles Marineris: http://home-1.worldonline.nl/~veenen/terragen/mars/marineris5bt.jpg Finally, the shuttle lost too much speed, and began to drop more rapidly. With the EK lifters taking over, a last spectacular shot was afforded them on their way out of the Valles.
http://home-1.worldonline.nl/~veenen/terragen/mars/marineris7at.jpg

The small craft took a sharp turn north, following the coastline of the Chryse Gulf. Finally, they found their destination: Kasei

http://home-1.worldonline.nl/~veenen/terragen/mars/fossae4at.jpg

"Hm. That island with the big crater lake looks like a good place for a city. But that little bity one might be good for a capital building, or maybe the large projection in the back would be safest. Well. I'll have to discuss that with Martin later."

The shuttle quickly landed at the small airospaceport that served the Foundation for Law And Government complex, known to many of the residents as Flagstaff. The craft taxied into a large hangar, and bright sunlamps came on overhead as the hangar doors closed behind them. Muzak and landscape images played in the few minutes it took to suitably pressurize the hangar, at which point the Royal Family exited the craft.

As they stepped off the boarding ramp and onto the hangar floor, they were met by a man in a waterminer's desert suit.

"Greetings! Lord Royen is occupied at the moment with negotiations for the Martian mutual defense treaty, and so I have been assigned to meet you and escort you to what little housing we could afford. Lady Royen will be with you as soon as possible. In the meantime, my name is Gansarek."

Galan thought on that a moment. Gansarek. Definitely a Serikats name. Peaceful river? Interesting name for a man of a desert planet.

Gansarek led the family to the exit of the hangar, into the tunnels of Flagstaff. Though constructed of old oil drums welded together, the inhabitants of the city had managed to beautify the walls somewhat.

"Um, I believe that the Royen's set aside 3 rooms for you, if I can just remember where... ah!" Gansarek skidded to a stop, hopped back a few steps, and turned down a side tunnel. "This way!"

He stopped the group of them outside a doorway a bit down the tunnel, and handed Inbhaílígh a magnetic card.

"That'll open the door. The other two rooms are the next ones down the hall. This one is a master bedroom, the next I think is the kitchen, and then another bedroom. They're connected inside, as well, of course. Ah, sorry for the rather rustic reception, but I'll try to get everything worked out as soon as possible. If you need anything, just give me a call."

(OOC: MIDAS stuff taking too long, so I am invoking Time Dilation, so as to be able to get on with this.)

Just a few minutes after getting settled in, a chime sounded, and a feminine voice was calling through the door.

"Dala! Go dhal raí gan? Ta raí Araphalaí Royen."

"Come in!"

The aluminum door slid open, and Lady Royen stepped through to find Lord and Lady Crzleídzí sitting across from each other on opposite sides of the counter, warily eyeing a bowl of fried termites, Master Galan reaching between them to grab a handful for himself, Mistress Neasa flopped out on a bed, and Master Aidean flooped right next to her.

Inbhaílígh looked up at Lady Royen.

"Dala, Araphalaí Royen. Could you tell em what these are?"

Galan looked at his father strangely. "Daaad! They're termites! Try some. They're like sunflower seeds."

"I think I'll pass. Well, do you know when Martin will be available?"

"Not definitively. I would expect he'd be back within another two hours, though. In the meantime, perhaps a tour is in order?"

It was, of course, the usual boring sight-seeing tour that you would expect in any city. About halfway through, Galan seemed to mysteriously disappear, but it's not like that's very unusual. Especially since it happened near one of the parks.

In any case, by the time they returned, Martin Royen was waiting for them.

"Martin!"
"Inbhailígh! Good to see you again. Say, I've got a couple of things to talk to you about."
"As do I. How were the MIDAS talks?"
"Good, good. I think we've got something we can work with."