NationStates Jolt Archive

The ocean glitters deep blue, specked with silver sunlight refracted in a thousand thousand drips and sprays flying off crests thrust high into the air. These waves crash hard against the cool steel pillars and concrete walls on which rest a small city. This city is all grey steel and glass windows, very modern and would be rather nondescript, like every other cluster of skyscrapers and arcologies which litter the world were it not for it's isolation; nearly a hundred miles from the nearest land, Mallbertan Kali sits serenly, anchored to the ocean bed deep below.

On one of the many short landing strips along the edges of this city, Commandante Grant Derrak waits for the incoming tide of diplomats, scientists and their respective entourage; while the enthusiasm from the international community had been mixed, there was no doubting that of the private industries. A tall, somewhat grizzled man, he fidgets uncomfortably with the luxurious designer suit he is wearing; grey and black vat-grown silk, it is far more expensive than his usual Mallbertan standard uniform. Still, if he was to play host, he'd best look the part.

He sighed, glancing at the heavy watch on his wrist; they'd start arriving soon.

ooc- RP in the arrival of your delegates; all are invited.

http://www.nationstates.net/forum/viewtopic.php?p=2212762#2212762

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To: Mallberta Diplomats
From: Vrak Diplomat Corps
Subject: Conference

Regretfully, we cannot send any delegation at this time due to hostilities in our lands. However, please find enclosed 1 million Kronors (about 1.23 m USD) to help with conference expenses and we would request a copy of any and pertinent academic literature. We wish this conference the best of luck.

To: Mallberta Diplomats
From: Vrak Diplomat Corps
Subject: Conference

Regretfully, we cannot send any delegation at this time due to hostilities in our lands. However, please find enclosed 1 million Kronors (about 1.23 m USD) to help with conference expenses and we would request a copy of any and pertinent academic literature. We wish this conference the best of luck.

Your generous support has been noted. We will be more than happy to send you copies of all relevant materials.

I am informing u that i will be attending your conference and should be arriving within the next 2 hours (flight delays i do apoligise) i will be bringing with me 2,000,000 jenkins. As i do not know how to convert my money system to yours i do not know how much this is to you but it is a substantial amount from where i am from. i hope we will meet soon and this conference will go well.
see you soon
Matt leader of BabaMataLonia

Wayden didn't know why he had been sent to this conference; he wasn't a scientist or a diplomat. It was true that out of all the Magistrates on Eurydice he was the most charming and personable, but still, this was not a job that suited a politician. However, the orders had come from Icarus himself, and so Wayden consented to the mission. He left his brother, William Ultran, in charge.

The young magistrate sighed, and looked out the window of his transport. He noticed the bright, shining stars, although they looked darker to him now that he was away from his home. He ran a hand through his light brown hair and picked up a small glass of wine with the other. After a small sip Wayden returned the glass to its previous location, and resumed his watchful gaze. He had often wondered what the heavens looked like from Earth, and now he was going to get the chance.

Seated across from Wayden was Captain Bohort. This older commander had acted as Wayden’s chauffer of sorts, bringing the magistrate from Eurydice to Earth aboard the Star Dreadnought Sown Fortune. Borhot’s ship now rested in earth orbit, under the studious watch of a certain Lieutenant Peters. Even though he knew the ship was in good hands, Bohort could not help but look out his own window. He eyed the Sown Fortune as it passed in front of the sun, its 4 booms looking like the razored teeth of a Eurydian Wolf.

Bohort and Wayden differed in looks greatly. While the former was a tall and well build man, Wayden was small, by comparison that is. The politician had a strong face however, and it emanated a presence that would humble the most insulting man. Still, when Wayden spoke, it seemed as though there were nothing more that he would rather talk about. His words dripped with interest, and his eyes always looked as though he was seeing something for the first time.

The two men sat opposite each other on the transport as it made final preparations for landing. Bohort’s gaze met Wayden’s. ”So Wayden, are you relieved to finally be here? A three day journey is quite the… tedious adventure.” Borhort chuckled as he emptied the glass of wine that had been next to him moments before.

Wayden sighed and shook his head. He was obviously used to long waits. ”Bohort, I am a magistrate, remember that. We have to wait hours on end before a resolution can be passed, what with all the bickering. This has actually been quite the vacation, captain. A relaxing trip.”

Again Bohort chuckled. ”Relaxing indeed!” The empty glass next to him must have been on his mind, for he grabbed the small bottle and poured himself another glass without even looking. The cool liquid rippled as the last drop fell in. ”I’m quite anxious to stretch my legs personally. I hope this convention of sorts isn’t boring. I do hate being bored.”

A warm smile crept upon Wayden’s face. Don’t worry, I’m sure it will be fine. I have heard… interesting things about Mallberta.” That perked Bohort’s interest, and so Wayden Ultran told his friend of the tales as the ship touched down on Mallbertan soil.

[OOC: Just assume we’re here… you can greet them and all that. That is if you don’t mind EB getting in on the biogenetic action, so to speak :wink: ]

The sleek Pilonese vessel seemed to swim through the water as it dove down. It was amazing how similar Mallberta and Pilon were to each other, as Mallberta had only recently caught Pilon's interest they hoped to increase good relations between the two nations over the coming years and this was a fine way of doing it. The Pilonese Ambassador, a Half-Elf named Torrec, thanked the craft as it landed softly on the landing platform. It was a smooth ride as usual. The craft sent back a thanks.

The ship opened on the side and Torrec decended to the ground. He raised his hands in Pilonese greeting to the waiting Mallbertan Commandante. "Hello, we are glad to meet you. My name is Academician Torrec of the Pilonese Hegemony."

Dusanh Sighed as he entered the Trasport Shuttle that was about to head down to the serface The Delagates had been onboard the shuttle for 3 howers and Some of of the delagates In Perticular Science Minister Bibouth

Bibouth oobserved as the emperor boarded the Shuttle "Finnaly we can get on the way it is bad enuff we have to travle down to a surface world and deal with the Mud Turtles waiging in this stiffy transport is simply In tolerable"

As with the rest of the impereal Clan Dusanh was a man with Verry little sence of humor infact the intire clan's tendancy towards Violent anger gained them noterity umungst Terrins as being the most "Abh like" of the Root Famalys. And he Deffintly was not Going to take guff from a lowlely Admeral This resulted in a condacending look "Admeral You do relise we are on a Mission of Diplomacy If you Dare use the term Mud Turtles in refrance to our hosts or thire race i will have you placed thow in the brig do you Understand me oh wich reminds me if the translater messes up and causes an incadent i will be holding you personly responcable"

With that the Transport shuttle left the Spacce nation To Dusanh The Stars Were a welcome site For to long he had been behind a desk shuffleing paper This was whare the action was, This is whare The kin of the Stars Belonged In space amungst the stars unfourtuntly all injoyable things and voyages must eventuly end as this one did

As the Ship entered A low leaval orbit The piolot Raidioed Down to Mallberta area Controll
"Area Controll This is The Keleke of the Patrolship Fatuner Plese come in" thire was no ansure
"Area Controll This is The Keleke of the Patrolship Fatuner Plese come in" .

The static finaly Broke "This is Malberta Area Contoll please state the nature of youre visit"

The pilot spoke once agin "We are requesting permition to land I have on board the Politcal and Scientific Diplomats for the forth coming Bipmachanics Summit"

The thought Drove home to everyone onboard. They were about to Step foot on a serface world for the first time in thire lives. The thought Broght fear to the Delagates on board.

THis however was brought to a close by a call back over the comunications termanal "Confermed Delagates of Bar Frybarec you have permition to land in sector 10230010"

The pilot responded "roger" the landing was a uneventfull one however some commady was invalved as the wake form the laninng Transport Slung watter into the Waighing Malbertin Diplomats.

Dusanh walked to the door took a deap breath of the air he knew as the door began to open this would be the first time he has ever seen a terrin in person. As the toor of the craft finaly opend Both the Malbertin Diplomats and the Diplomats of Frybarek looked at eachother in belilderment. The Malbertins in perticulr looked Most puzzled at thiire Guests Prehaps it was becouse it was thire forst time seing members of the abh race it was imaginable thatthire Aperance was Shocking to them it must have been supricing to look upon thease Blue haird Humans Who were quight slender and Thin boned, Or it was prehaps becoouse none of them
looked a day over 25 years. They Seemed in perticular to be Most Shoked at Dusanh's apperance As he was the most aliean loking of the delagates Poseesing ears that jetes strait out form the side of his head a good 4.5 inches and tapering to a bluint tip.

Dusanh Just stood in the door for a moment gaging how upset his hosts were by the Soaking "my applogies for the shower we do not land in planets much so desining landing craft is not a priority for us however we were not expecting that large of a splash alow me to make it up to you by buying you a refreshment and pay for your Cleening bill"

As he was Talking to the Delgates one of the delagates of The Eastern Bloc walked over
"So Those are the Abh I've Herd Rumers Like that the dont age and that they are al concidered to be Beutafull Ive also hurd they clame to be the Sons of earthlings except they Slightly Modified thire Genes."

Dusanh wakded down form the Ship and Shook the Delagates hands "actuly the Modified part is not corect we do preform cheks to keep the race as we were engenerred but we will explane that during the talk about gentic technology"

Dusanh looked at the Mabertin Delalagate his ship soaked "i do beleve i owe you a drink"

Having dropped off its cargo the Pilonese ship took off, though it sent one last mournful goodbye to the Academecian before leaving, the ship loved its Pilot and missed him when he was off on diplomatic missions such as this.

Dol James didn't much care for air travel, but this was different. The APT didn't rock, it didn't shake and vibrate and rattle on the verge of falling apart. It didn't vibrate with the massive thrust of modern jetliners or transatmospheric planes on takeoff. It was quiet, smooth, like the mag-lev trains or a regular elevator.

A gentle ride. He preferred this... at least when it came to air travel. One of the benefits of working for the Conglomerate was getting to use their latest gadgets on a mission. A minor benefit in the long run, but much appreciated now.

"We're coming up at the landing site, sir, you might want to make any last minute preparations," said the pilot, about two meters away beyond a narrow alley to the cockpit.

"Thanks, I think I'm good though," he replied.

He still marvelled at the advanced propulsion as he tried to figure out when they had landed. He hadn't been able to tell when they were moving, and the APT, being an essentially military transport, didn't have much in the way of windows. Not that he was the sort who preferred rapidly moving scenescapes, anyway-- no loss.

Profit, loss. If you looked at it the right way, the entire world could be boiled into that basic duality. If you looked at the entire world that way, most things were easier.

"We're here, sir."

Dol James, President of Disaster Relief, Incorporated, stepped off the ladder to the floating city. He blinked as the salt of the air stung his eyes for the first time, adjusting himself to the new climate-- he had just come from a relatively mild summer day in Lompoc.

Following closely were Conglomerate researchers-- or intelligence agents, he couldn't tell which yet-- not part of his company (DRI was hardly in the biomechanics business, after all), but sent to do most of the grunt work. He was the 13th of his group, and had the most important job of all, of shaking the hands, making the impressions and getting the deal done.

He had no silly superstitions about the number 13, though. His first job, working for PrattCo back before the Conglomerate, he had gotten at age 13. And, his first office was numbered 13. Without these 13's, he might have been just like every other asshole, wearing a mask to work or letting the ITDO transform you into the corporate soldier, or not even working, maybe slopping a life for himself selling organs until he died or was captured.

His group mulled about, chattering to each other excitedly and chattering in the cold. He commanded himself not to shiver and was ready.

steph lacey steps out of the arrival lounge, and into the cool air. a breeze catches her overcoat and whips it slightly around her ankles. she is dressed in fairly conservative, and non-military, outfit. only her footware suggests something other than a successive academic and researcher.

a full colonel in the fis. armed forces, and head of the cybernetics research division, she had been delegated to attend this conference. after the night of cyan fire there had been increased interest in her division, especially in the area of limb replacement. this conference may help in that regard. it may even help with various other projects.

she pushes her glasses up her nose. she lifts her suit case, in her left hand, with deceptive ease. she walks over to derrak.

"biomechanics conference," she asks him.

Commandante Derrak watched the smooth descent of the EB vessel with a certain amount of distaste; he wasn't used to dealing wth foreigners, much less important diplomats, generals and the like. His ettiquette training had been cursory at best; he was certain he'd make a fool of himself. It was at ltimes like this he envied the drones: devoid of consoiuness, aware of nothing but the task at hand, they were blissfully content to attend to any task put before them. That kind of detachment would be nice at times.

AN itching in the back of his skull, in the fungal implant which connected him to rudimentary MALLNET node buried perhaps a kilmoeter beneath him heralded an incoming message. He shivered slightly; a direct feed from the node itself was always somewhat disconcerting: there was a certain level of xenophobia buried deep in him which profoundly resented these intrusions, and he'd never grown used to sensing the very fungus itself, below him, around him, even in the air itself. Inside him even.

They arrive. Be calm.

Then a string of numbers; coordinates of the incoming crafts poured into him at nearly incomprehensible speeds before he felt MALLNET disconnect.

Turning to the small group of Commisars gather behind him, he projected his own message:

They arrive. Prepare the transports. Be sure all is ready.

He watched as they scattered like leaves; he'd laced the message with a strong imperative; none would so much as hesitate until their task was complete.

***

Wayden and Bohort stepped out of the craft into the nearly blinding daylight, reflected off waves and structures, salt and moisture immediately lightly covering them.

Derrak apporached, somewhat hesitantly, before extending a hand in greeting. His speech has somewhat slurred, a strange amalgamation of dialects and accents altogether foreign, yet clearly understandable. His voice skipped from Cockney to Brooklyn to New Orleans without missing a beat.

'It's a... pleasure to meet you... I am Commandante Derrak, your... host today and tommrow, and after that as well.'

The wind whipped at his expensive-looking suit, muffling his voice and causing no small discomfort.

'If you'll just follow my... subordinate, we'll take you straight to your quarters. You'll be... debriefed? there.'

A tall, heavily muslced man in an equally luxiorous suit beckoned towards a black luxury hovercar which, surrounded by it's twins, lurked somewhat menacingly at the far end of the landing strip.

***

ooc- The rest of you can assume similar treatment. You will be brought to a luxury suite in a glass building near the center of the town, over looking the ocean, and given time to unpack. The rooms, while nicely appointed and with all the amenities, are somewhat spartan and totally brandspankin new. I'll post again in 6 hours or so if no one has anything to add.

The ride was smooth and uneventful. The short trip did give Wayden and Bohort time to view the assorted spire like structures that seemed to stand in defiance of the various deities that occupy the high heavens. (OOC: I’m assuming you have a few tall buildings.) Those buildings rivaled that of the Eurydian palace Rigard, renowned for its beauty and height.

While Bohort was content with staring out at the scenery, Wayden mentally sized up the man who had greeted them. He had never heard a person talk quite like Derrek, it was almost as though he was mixed up as to what dialect he should speak. Still, you cant really hold the way a person talks against them, and so Wayden decided to disregard the mans speech as merely a “Mallbertan quirk.”

Wayden attempted to fill the ride with idle conversation, but within a few short minutes their final destination had been reached. He was anxious to get out of the car and into his room; three days of being cramped within a Dreadnought, transport, and now car would make anyone a bit jittery.

Wayden glanced to the building in front of him, and he was instantly taken in. The buildings Wayden had previously admired were reflected perfectly. The entire city was seemingly captured within the windowpanes, creating a painting of unrivaled beauty that was unbelievably created by human hands. After a couple bats of an eye, Wayden came back to reality.

The two Eurydians were ushered into the building and up to their suite. It was a quaint room by Eurydian standards, but Wayden didn’t mind. The view of the ocean made up for the relative bareness of the room. It was a sheet of blue, flat and tranquil without a blemish or hint of white to speak of; it was unusually calm for the Pacific.

Wayden continued to look out over the water waiting for someone to call or knock, signaling the true start of the convention.

lacey steps in to her hotel room. she crinkles her noise a bit. the sharp smells in the room assult her senses. she smells the various chemicals that are still outgasing. "it's better then some of the wards, i've had to visit," she thinks.

there had been something slowly nagging at her since she met derrak, the word "berserker" keeps running through her head. she sets her suitcase on the table. she opens it and starts unpacking. the inside of the case looks to be slightly smaller than it should, but an observer really can't be sure. picks up the data pad that had been packed in the case.

she turns on the datapad, and puts it on the bed.

"okin-san," she says.

"yes, mistress," the pad responds.

"establish a data link with home."

"shall i retrieve all messages, mistress?"

"no, conference protocols."

"yes, mistress. i shall notify you when i have finished."

she continues to unpack. the speech of "okin-san" has exposed the nagging thought about derrak.

"okin-san"

"yes, mistress"

"data requests; information 'berserker speech', broad history on mallberta. priority over messages."

"yes, mistress. i shall notify you when i have finished."

-----------

she sips a cup of coffee. she reads over the broad history of mallberta. she reflexivly reaches behind her head to feel it where the skull meets the neck.

she shakes her head. "they wouldn't be as foolish as to try something like that," she thinks to her self.

"okin-san"

"yes, mistress."

"what is the first law of conspiracies?"

"if you look, you will always find one."

"it's not that i'm paranoid," she thinks. "it's just creepy, that's all."

*double post*

Torrec followed the lead of the Mallbertan Hosts. He had only a few belongings with him, most anything he needed could just be transported to him via the Nodelink MK-II anyway, though we wondered if he needed anything. He gazed longingly out at the sea, Torrec missed the underwater arcologies of Pilon and the sea only made the longing stronger. This longing, which was beginning to be called Pilonese Entrapment was becoming a big problem recently as more and more Pilonese citizens developed what was at first a longing then actual physical withdrawals when not close to home.
He hoped the conference would not take too long...

Verana urged her shelcoof to greater speeds. 'Weres had been unlucky enough to have evolved in an area devoid of any metals. In lieu of mining and other metallic industries, her kind had grown what was needed. Lately, they had even begun working on living vehicles, such as this. Unfortunately, due to the lack of swift communication inside their nation, the scientists of the Gaea's Armory project hadn't known of this conference until only a day ago. Verana hoped that she would make it in time...