NationStates Jolt Archive

All around Sakkra, and its holdings throughout the system and beyond, a message is heard over the general announcement speakers throughout the lands. News-feed stations relay this announcement throughout the airwaves and throughout C-space.

The figure of Emperor Gorrm walks up to a podium, flanked by eagle-eyed TacSoft Troopers and Hordesmen. His golden mantle of office is highly polished and casts a reflection on his blueish-grey scales.

"Attention all. Attention. The Regional Jugg Matches are almost over, and in one (NS) month, the National Match will once again come to the Kastaa Athletics Complex." Random cheering, hooting and such can be heard throughout the lands.

Gorrm holds up his hands for silence, and continues. "Not only that, but this is an extra-special occasion. It will commemorate our 2 billionth hatchling since we made our presence known. The hatchling will be adopted into the Imperial Line, and given a name suitable of its status when the age is right."

"As a result of this momentous occasion, we will invite any nations to send two dignitaries to attend this. Be warned, it is not a sport for the faint of heart. If your people are sensitive about blood and such, you may wish to avoid this event. Otherwise, send a message to the Diplomatic Corps offices in Kastaa, and a place will be reserved for your dignitaries in the Imperial Viewing Box, which is the best seat in the house."

"That is all. May you walk on warm sands!" Gorrm then turns and exits the podium. All over the holdings of Sakkra, the people go into a hyper-excited state.

On Kastaa Island, Emperor Gorrm sits on a cast-iron balcony overlooking the crystal-clear ocean. A warm and moist breeze carries with it the scent of hibiscus and roasting meats from below. His mind weighs heavily, for much change has occured since he came to power.

It almost seems like the corporations here have more power than the Imperial Throne. I need to reign in all this unchecked influence. But how to do it without sending our economy spiralling out of control? His internal musings are cut short, however, as one of his Servitors enters bearing a crystal pitcher full of chilled Paroo, with a lemon wedge on the rim of the oddly-lipped pitcher. A pair of goblets accompanies the pitcher.

"Thank you Servitor Hhaarg."

"My pleasure, Sire."

Gorrm turns in his chair and leans his head back a bit. "Hhaarg, any word from my elder hatchmate Thress about her attendance to the Jugg Matches?"

The servitor cups a hand to his chin a moment, and then looks up. "WHy, yes Sire. There was word indeed. She has completed her investigations of the Orbital SHipyard, has found the culprit trying to smuggle Anole fighters out of our holdings, and has taken appropo action. She will attend."

Gorrm settles back in his chair as the sun starts creeping over in his direction. "Good news. Good news indeed. Thank you Hhaarg." He takes a sip from the lip of the pitcher, and sighs.

The Jugg Matches have now begun!

In the Sol holdings of the Empire of Sakkra, the island of Kastaa comes to life with the festivities currently being arranged. Military units, civilian Peace Officers and Border Patrol, Emergency Response teams and University Bands are gathered at several locations. Kiosks are set up, which will offer a large variety of goods, from food-stuffs to exquisite jewelery.

In all the hotels, B&Bs and inns across the island, reservations are taken, banquets are prepared and staff is on hand in force. Lights and streamers as well as large, orbate banners, are hung from anyplace that will hold them.

On every possible communications medium in Sakkra, the Emperor holds an address.

"Compatriots, friends and revelers. The Birth Pits of the Black Swamp have just announced the 2 billionth Sakkran born. This being will be adopted into the Royal Line, and will be as my own hatchling."

The image cuts to a steamy, fog-covered swamp, with natural gas bubbles making a *pop* sound once in a while. Mangrove trees and Paroo trees, roots breaking the water level, are thick here, with moss draping off their limbs.

A female Tender, dressed in green robes, holds a freshly-hatched Sakkran, with its embryonic sac still attached to it's stomach. It's still semi-encased in its egg, which is a powder blue color with black specks.

After a few moments, the hatchling's eyes open, and it stands on all four limbs. It then scurries up the Tender's arms, and peers with its over-sized yellow eyes at the camera crew, and makes a loud Urk urk sound.

View switches back to the Emperor. "In 20 years, when she is mature enough to leave the Birth Pits, she will come to the Kargaahl Imperial Complex, where she will be educated and raised as my own child. In that time, a name will be chosen for her. Now, I hereby declare the National Holiday of Jugg, commenced!"

((Post copied from old thread))

Treznor

Ambassador the Honourable James Grant steps down from the shuttle, looking slightly green. Charles Bishop and Catherine Ravon remain close behind him for support. "Don't worry, Ambassador," Catherine says soothingly. "It's over. You'll feel better in a little bit. We'll just get you to your stateroom and into bed as soon as we go through the motions here."

Grant nods slowly, trying to keep his inner ear from unbalancing too much and causing him to lose his lunch again. "Yes, yes of course. Matters of state take precedence over mere personal discomfort. Why, once in the Republic of Kai Lang I was taken ill with a most distressing case of dysentary. It was a challenge to reign it in, as it were, but I forced a smile and..."

The senior official continued to natter on about his intestinal fortitude long enough to forget his space sickness until they reached the Sakkra official designated to greet them. The official looked pleased (as far as reptilian expressions can be deciphered) and perhaps a little excited with regard to national pride. A faint scent of cinammon filled the air.

Unfortunately, it was enough to remind Grant of his stomach's complaints. He opened his mouth to make a quick, formal speech, then closed it again and turned green.

"Oh gods..."

He turned away and bent over as his stomach heaved once again. Charles rubbed his back consolingly as Catherine stepped up to take his place. "Please forgive the Ambassador," she began without preamble. "He had a rough flight."

Sakkra
"It would certainly appear that way. It is fortunate that the Kastaa Medical Facility is near, and we keep a team on retainer here. They have been summoned, and should be here .... ah! Here they are."

A team of six Med-Techs race up with a container and some diagnostic equipment. Using an extarnal diagnostic probe placed upon the head, readings come up on a small flat-screen display. "Post-flight vertigo. Reading imbalance in the inner-ear liquid levels. He should lay down and rest a bit, and the nausea will subside. In the meantime, give him this to drink. It will steel the nerves and aid in keeping nausea dowm."

From the container is produced a naxious blend of local herbs, which are mixed in a hot mug of water. It dissolves into the water, and the mug is offered to Catherine Ravon.

Treznor
Catherine accepts the mug with a slight bow, and kneels to offer it to Grant. The ambassador nods weakly, but recoils at the smell. "By the Lady, that smells like toadstool soup! What are you doing, Catherine, trying to poison me?"

"Please, Ambassador," Charles implores as he strives to assist Grant in standing upright. "Our hosts have been gracious enough to attempt to assist. You wouldn't want to offend them by accusing them of poison, would you?" He winks to the Med Tech to play along.

"Sir, the mission requires you to be healthy," Catherine reminds him. "How can we carry on without you? We'd be lost. Drink this so you can represent the Empire with all the wit and flair you've always shown."

Charles gives her a grin and shakes his head.

"Yes, yes," Grant mutters, slowly accepting the cup. "For the Empire." He grimaces and drinks the liquid noisily, only a small trickle dribbling down his chin. Finally he lowers the cup and gasps. "Ah! Yes. The challenges I face in the service of the Emperor! But you know, it wasn't really all that bad. Certainly not nearly as bad as the time when..."

Catherine and Charles nod to the Sakkra official as they assist their rambling superior to his rooms for some rest. "We'll make formal introductions later, if you don't mind," Catherine suggests.

Sakkra
The official nods his deep-green head slowly. "Of course." As they make their way to the transports, he continues. "We have reserved the Ambassador suite at the Kastaa Resort for you all. There is an onsite hot spring, steam chambers and a number of other amenities."

A resplendent transport awaits the group as they exit the shuttleport. The vehicle conveys them to the resort, with the official giving a bit of the sight-seeing tour monologue. "Over there is the Bay of Hhlaar. Site of a massive battle involving some sea-going denizens and an entire town's citizenry. Very interesting, and odd at the same time. And over there....."

At the island of Kastaa, the people arrive at the Kastaa Athletic Complex in droves. The kiosks selling roasted meat on a stick finds themselves swamped with business. The crowd continues filtering in, and taking any available seating that can be found.

The Complex is a five-story high domed building, with exposed rafters (with obviously updated security features), columns reaching up to the domed roof, and several entrances. It measures 230 meters wide by 450 meters long. The Imperial viewing box takes center in the audience, and is surrounded by armed guards.

The Jugg pit is marked only with two spikes driven into the ground. The rest of it is covered in a dusty soil, and several benches line the sides. A large kettle drum is brought out and laid down on the ground.

OOC: This is the point that folks announce who is sending what dignitary. All foreign dignitaries get a seat at the Emperor's Viewing Box; best seat in the house. Heralds would announce the dignitary arriving. Blah blah..aaaaand....go!