NationStates Jolt Archive

The Socialist Republic of Xanthal, after establishing preliminary contact with the nation of Scolopendra, has invited their counterpart to send a representative to Xanthal so that the Socialist Republic may familiarize itself with the culture and government of Scolopendra and that the foreign representative may gain some knowledge of our own nation to bring back to his/her country. From this first meeting we may better assess how to best establish formal relations between us and hopefully lay out a plan for an exchange of ambassadors and possibly a basic treaty to cement relations.

Undisclosed Location

You do know you're treading on shaky multiversial ground, right?

Diplomatic Officer Magnus Hesche nods, flexing his left arm out and watching the light play over the ornate and arcane metallic tattoo that runs over its length, seemingly embedded into his skin. Yare, yare. That's why I'm the one going in, right, boss? Same reason I got sent to Dragonqueezya, and I think I didn't do too poorly on that one.

Agent Simmias sighs, tapping a contact on his monocle display, clearing it of all its constantly-scrolling information, then folds it out, locking his brown eyes on Hesche's sea-blue ones. Just take care of yourself, okay? Connection with this r-brane is tenuous at best, and I don't want to see you fall off the face of reality.

Hesche grins smugly, perfect teeth almost blindingly white. "Hey, I'm The Magnus Hesche. I got it covered."

TYWS-FCC Bolo
Several hours later, Sol System

"So, Cap'n, where we off to today?" Magnus leans against the back-rest of the seat at the apex of the small bridge officers' semicircle, smiling broadly at the sandy-haired man sitting in it. Said sandy-haired man, Lieutenant Commander Daniel Samson, was quickly tiring of his guest and looks up with a wry smile.

"New system, actually," he begins with over-sweetness, "'Aellis,' twenty leeches out. Looks like the GEC skipped that one."

"The GeeCee skips a lot of systems. 'S a big galaxy." Hesche looks up at the spherical strategic indicator projected in the air at the fore of the bridge. "So, when do we get jumping? I've never been out of the system."

Samson sighs. "I've already set jump stations... why aren't you sitting down? Give it a mo"

Aellis System

"ment. See, here we are." Now get the hell off my ship.

* - * - *

Xanthalian authorities:

This is the Triumvirate of Yut corvette Bolo on a diplomatic courier mission carrying Diplomatic Officer Magnus Hesche. We request direction so we can drop him off.

Lieutenant Commander Samson
CO, TYWS-FCC Bolo

General system information:
The Aellis system (13): Xanthal claims the entire system, which forms the core of its operations and houses its capitals. Heavily developed and well defended, the Aellis system hosts four inhabitable planets and most of the population of Xanthal.
-Aellis I (uninhabitable, molten).
-Aellis II (uninhabitable, molten).
-Aellis III (uninhabitable, barren rock).
-Aellis IV (inhabitable, detention planet, subtropical very dry forest).
-Aellis V (inhabitable, capital planet, warm temperate climates).
-Aellis VI (inhabitable, homeworld, cool temperate climates).
-Aellis VII (inhabitable, Armada/Military planet, polar dry tundra).
-Aellis VIII (uninhabitable, ice planet).
-Aellis IX (uninhabitable, gas giant, thirty-six rings).
-Aellis X (uninhabitable, gas giant).
-Aellis XI (uninhabitable, ice planet).
-Aellis XII (uninhabitable, barren rock).
-Aellis XIII (uninhabitable, barren rock).

The Aellis system is a bustling place, both on its four inhabited planets and in space. The majority of traffic is between the fourth and seventh planets, and moves in "lanes" designated by electronic markers. Several lanes lead out of the system, allowing egress to ships leaving and entrance to those arriving. There was no FTL travel possible in the system itself, as the Xanthalian government had completely wiped out hyperspace and subspace within the area long ago as a safety precaution to prevent an enemy from bypassing the heavy defenses orbiting just beyond the seventh planet. Though many international signals can be read among the throngs of traffic, most of the ships seem to be Xanthalian. Several large starbases both in planetary and solar orbit can be found throughout the system, and the pride of Xanthalian technological achievement, the giant golden ring known as the Infinity Gateway, can be seen floating in its orbit between Aellis V and VI. The Bolo is promptly contacted by system traffic control as it passes the orbit of Aellis XIII.

Transmission from Aellis system traffic control to the Triumvirate of Yut corvette Bolo:
"We have you on sensors Bolo, and you are expected. The Triumvirate sends its regards. We are sending you coordinates now for the New Krytan spaceport on Aellis Five. Please merge with traffic in lane one-four and follow that spaceway to lane nine-zero, then follow lane nine-zero to the surface. Once you enter the atmosphere, tune to frequency six-one-nine and contact New Krytan landing control. You're new here, so we've also transmitted full data on all traffic lanes in the system for your convenience. STC out."

"Merging into traffic... in interplanetary space?" The lieutenant commander frowns.

"Doesn't that sound just a bit more dangerous than monitored free-flight?" Hesche asks, recieving a curt nod in response from Bolo's commander. Chuckling, Hesche cracks his knuckles. "I gots me an idea. Comms, heat up the horn."

This garners him only a strange look from the communications officer. "Go ahead, Comm," Samson offers.

* - * - *

Question:

What is the Xanthalian stance on diplomatic immunity for minor non-violent offenses?

--Diplomatic Officer Magnus "Robot Fighter" Hesche

Response:
The Socialist Republic's legal system contains no provisions for diplomatic immunity, and violaters of Xanthalian law must report for trial. However, sentencing procedures for foreigners differ from that of Xanthalian citizens. They are as follows:
Class four offenses (disturbing the peace, littering, etc.): Formal warning from a Xanthalian judge.
Class three offenses (minor assault, minor theft, etc.): Monetary fine.
Class two offenses (manslaughter, armed robbery, etc.) and repeat class four and three offenses: Expulsion from Xanthalian territory.
Class one offenses (murder, rape, torture) and offenses of any kind by expelled people/parties: Life imprisonment in a Xanthalian facility.
-The Xanthalian Ministry of Justice

"I could deal with a traffic ticket or two," Hesche muses to himself, "but a formal appearance before a judge wouldn't look quite proper in my record. Well," he says more loudly, "Cap'n, look like expediency and logic must unfortunately take a back seat to diplomacy. I'll just nip to the hangar and take out a shuttle so you don't have to take the whole corvette in."

Lieutenant Commander Samson nods. "Thank you. That'll make both our lives easier, I think."

One very legal flight later

Hesche taps a contact on the hemispherical HOTAS stick control in his right hand, engaging the flight comms. "This is Shuttle Sierra-Bolo-Alpha, Diplomatic Officer Hesche piloting, requesting permission to land and vectoring information from New Krytan landing control."

"This is New Krytan spaceport, you are cleared to land on pad two-seven. Spaceport information and vectors are being fed to your computer now. Be aware current temperatures are nominal. Cloud coverage is solid to one-six hundred meters, clear skies below. Your entry will take you over the city, so keep an eye on your altitude. It wouldn't reflect well on us if you smashed into a building. Would you like a tractor-beam assisted landing?"

Magnus scoffs. "Any pilot worth his salt doesn't need to have his bird brought down for him." He flips a switch, and his goggles switch to computer-enhanced imaging mode. "Synthetic-apeture radar activated; clouds are not an issue. Will stay above city-top level"--like only makes sense...--"and vector in for vertical landing."

http://www.weirdozone.0catch.com/projects/compyart/tmbscarab-landed.jpg (http://www.weirdozone.0catch.com/projects/compyart/scarab-landed.jpg)
Simple enough. Follow the standard procedure, come in over the port at approach altitude, land. Follow taxi directions to clear the pad, park, and spin down the engines. Post-landing checklist complete and coleopteran craft firmly affixed to the ground, Magnus pulls off his pilot goggles and hops out of the pilot seat. Nodding with a broad smile to the senior flight sergeant in the copilot's seat and the technical sergeant in the flight engineer seat, he checks his uniform in a pocket mirror, shakes himself out, and cycles through the port-side airlock, stepping out with a broad smile.

Walking assertively to whoever seems to be in charge, he grins broadly in a way that oddly fits his face--dirty-blonde hair well-kept but ruffled in an outdoorsy way; muscular, tanned face; broad teeth so white that one would doubt that they absorb -any- light; and a broad chin that could crush diamonds. "Diplomatic Officer Magnus Hesche of the Federated Segments of Scolopendra, at your service." Short bow, then another flashing grin. "If it isn't too forward of me, take me to your leader."

The officer on duty in the small private arrival area, one of over twenty in the massive spaceport, looks at the visitor oddly. "Hmm. I can't do that, but if you're supposed to meet someone they're probably waiting for you at the main terminal." He points to the tram arriving beyond a set of clear steel doors a few meters away. "Take that tram. It will be at the main terminal in about twenty minutes." The doors open, allowing access to three of the tram's ten cars. Inside the tram it is spartan but clean, rows of seats facing forward, backward, and sideways. The digital display above the doors outside and inside the tram flash the tram's current position, its line number, and its next destination. Inside each car and outside the tram, a beautiful digital map displays itself boldly, showing the route the vehicle will follow.

Hesche grins broadly. "Fair enough," he says cheefully, before pivoting effortlessly and walking almost smugly to the tram. He blatantly ignores the map, preferring to watch through the windows. Pfft. Not meeting people on the tarmac. What has happened to professional customs and courtesies nowadays?

OOC: Xanthalian customs procedures, to be frank. Once you enter a Xanthalian spaceport beyond the outer terminal Xanthal's computer systems consider you out of the country until you come back through. People don't like to deal with customs just to go out to the tarmac, and no one is excluded from checks, no matter who they are. Well, you'll see more on that later no doubt. I'm just going to ask, would you like me to hurry it up to the actual diplomatic meeting, or don't you mind the trip being fully RPed? I don't mind either way, I just don't want to bore you.

IC: The tram tours its route, picking up and dropping off passengers all along the way. Finally it arrives at the main terminal and the doors open into a horribly crowded space with windows looking back to the spaceport behind and a blank wall cut through by twenty portals. Ten of these are marked with green arrows above the doors, ten are marked with red Xs. Through the doors marked with Xs people come through into the inner terminal, heading for the tram. In front of each door marked with a green check is a line of people, taking turns checking in with the officer standing by the door and passing through into the outer terminal. Every few minutes one of the people passing through any of the doors would be halted in their tracks by forcefields and an alarm, after which they would be searched and sometimes taken aside. The portals are, in fact, the housings for Xanthalian machinery that checks each person passing through for weapons and disease, as well as verifying their identity from any records of DNA, fingerprints, blood type, brain scans, etc. They are marvelous machines, the guardians of the Xanthalian border.

(OOC: Your country; I'm easy. The below things are actually pretty common for immigration and border checks.)

Subject: Contact #2C0AD5-927A1C-83B2CD
---DECLARED INFORMATION---
Declared Name: "Hesche, Magnus"
Declared Profession: "Senior Diplomatic Officer, Scolopendran Diplomatic Corps"
Declared Purpose in Xanthal: "That's odd, I thought I was invited for a diplomatic discussion."
Declared Duration of Stay in Xanthal: "However long your government keeps me before my dashing good looks fills your women with desire and your men with envy, I guess."
Declared Answers to Questioning:
--Do you have any diseases? "Other than being shamelessly erudite and dashing? None."
--Do you declare any personal weaponry? "One standard-issue diplomatic corps ice needler, equipped with tranquilizer juice. It tickles."
--Are you carrying any produce into Xanthal? "Nope, I'm single and without children."
--Are you carrying any drugs into Xanthal? "None other than my personality."
--Do you plan on committing any crimes in Xanthal? "Depends. Is just being one damn-fine hunkahunkaman a crime?"
--Do you recognize the authority of Xanthalian authorities on Xanthalian soil? "Oi, I didn't expect the Spanish Inquisition. Of course I do. Can I go now?"

---SENSOR DATA---
Species: Human, Non-Engineered
Cybernetic Augments: None
Cosmetic Augments: One tattoo, stretching length of left arm. Metallic, exact composition unknown. No sign of surgical implantation.
DNA Scan Results: Standard human, no genetic deficiencies or cogenital defects.
Pathogen Scan Results: No pathogens detected. Microbial levels actually below nominal.
Biometric Scan Results: Despite unusually 'clean' pathogen scan, immune system appears extremely resilient. Extremely healthy individual.
Brain Scan Results: Structure nominal, minus a slightly enlarged prefrontal cortex and hippocampus--well within standard deviation. Detailed examination inconclusive.

---COMPUTER CHECK---
Identity:
--DNA: Unknown.
--Biometric: Unknown.
--Brain Scan: Unknown.
--Voiceprint: Unknown.
--Fingerprint: Unknown.

* - * - *

Magnus looks down at his digital watch, then looks back up, flashing an easy-going grin. "You know," he says in his chummer-chummer friendly voice, "I've got an official DiploCorps ID card and a Little Orphan Annie monogrammed decoder ring if those will help prove my identity."

The customs officer, by now rather annoyed with this customer, simply grins charmingly and says "That's okay, pass through the portal and we'll record your sensor data. That way it will be on record the next time we have the pleasure of your company." Beyond the door is the outer terminal, an equally crowded but much larger space. Here are the phones, phamplets, information desks, and transporter pads. Outside the main doors there is a dirty-looking temporary walkway and mounds of dirt. The reason is not apparent to those arriving, but if one were to inquire about the massive mess just outside they would be told that that was the remains of the spaceport's train station. Upon further inquiry, one might learn of the nation's centuries of reliance on hovertrain networks for planetary transportation; and the new global transporter system that had proved the death-knell of Xanthal's old system. After all, in the name of progress the new must come and the old must go. Next to one of the transporter pads stands a well-dressed Than holding a sign that boldly proclaims "Scolopendra representative" in dark letters. The creature was visibly bored, if one could read the facial expressions of a Than; not an easy task. The Human-sized bug people known as Than spoke only in their native language of clicks and hisses, mostly because that's all their voice-boxes could do. Through the wonder of technology though, when they spoke it was always understandable, no matter what language the listener was educated in. The presence in the spaceport was heavily Xanthalian, but there were many other races as well, from A to Z. Xanthal's reputation as a place of diversity and acceptance preceeds it for most.

After waving to the nice customs man, Hesche walks up to the insectoid--Hey, kinda looks like a Gurlanai. I remember them.--and peers at the sign, rubbing his chin. Pulling a black indelible marker from his left hip pocket, he uncaps it and writes a quick, neat "n" in at the end of "Scolopendra" on the sign. Capping the marker and returning it to his pocket, he nods with a broad, close-lipped smile, extending a hand in greeting.

"Magnus Hesche of Scolopendra. Before I go into my usual diplomatic 'Hi, glad to be here' schpiel for the third time," he hardly emphasizes the word, cheerful as ever, "I inquire, quite humbly: Are you another link in the chain that leads me to whatever official may or may not be awaiting my arrival, or are you said official? Either way, pleased to meet you."

IC: The Than looks at Hesche, then emits a deries of clicks which are translated into a hearty laugh. Her voice is translated masterfully by the voice synthesizer she wears, and the end result is almost indistinguishable from natural organic speech. "Glad to meet you Sir. I'm afraid I'm only one more link in the chain. Fortunately, I'm the last rung of the ladder until you meet your first actual official." She bows in the Xanthalian fashion of greeting, then extends a hand. Leg. Hand. Whatever. "As long as I'm here though, my name is Night of Firey Sky. I have some titles, but those aren't important. I am an official diplomatic grunt of the Xanthalian central government."

OOC: Where do you live, out of curiosity? It's going on 1 A.M. where I am. Well, I've gotta sign off for tonight but if you have time to kill you can feel free to look over my nation's factbook, TUXEDO (http://www.nationstates.net/forum/viewtopic.php?t=101823). Since its a public record IC you can use it as knowledge your character(s) has/have too, if you wish. If I were you, I'd focus on the first post. The Armada and Military statistics are mostly numbers. As long as I'm speaking OOC though, humour me and let me know how you like my roleplaying. You're a mod, so I guess your opinion is fairly important :P . See you later!
-Zeke Zabertini: "The player behind the legend." ...sorry. I couldn't resist. It's the sleep deprivation.

Magnus accepts the extremity easily, shaking as is appropriate. "You too, eh? Diplomatic Officer--read, 'official diplomatic grunt,' as you put it--here. At least you are some sort of official." He chuckles as he shakes his head, speaking in a friendly, jovial tone as he follows the insectoid. "Just between you and me, my first impression of official Xanthalian hospitality leaves just a little to be desired. Here I am, come twenty leeches to a new star system, to be greeted by space traffic control. 'The Triumvirate sends its regards.' Well, that's nice. Could just drop a line and say 'hi.'"

He shakes his head wryly as he continues. "Come over to this strange new world--nice place you got here, by the way--land, and there's no one to talk to but the ground crew, which is less than conversant. Not even a government mook like you or me to say, 'oh, come this way' and to make getting through customs easier. Now, I'm a really hard guy to offend," he smiles, "but if that's the standard you guys are going to annoy a lot of people right off the bat, and that's never a good thing. Y'see, we're quite Arabesque, and hospitality dictates making it easy for the guest to transition to his new surroundings."

"Not to sound like a whiny brat," he chuckles again, "because I know it isn't your fault or the customs officer's fault or the crew chief's fault. I'm just unloading on you 'cause I figure you can appreciate my middle-rung complaints and hopefully won't be offended. Now that that's out of the way," he broaches with a smile, "where to next, ma'am?"

(OOC: Well, you're dealing with Hesche's odd quirks, which is a plus. Will admit that some of the peripherals are glaring, but that's a matter of taste.

As for where I live... muahahahaha.)

The Than shrugs. "I know. I've often thought that myself. There's really not much anyone can do though. The Ministry of Transportation is quite strict regarding border matters." She steps onto the transporter pad. "Climb aboard, and behold the wonder of Xanthal's new transportation system."

"Well, it's not even a matter of strictness of border matters. There could be some friendly face standing on the tarmac, at least. The visitor would still go through customs but have some assistance along the way. Just trying to help you guys out here."

Magnus looks down at the wonder of Xanthal's new transportation system.

It's the scanning and dematerialization pad of a teleporter, or a "transporter" as those crazy Sunsetters like to call them. Sure, they worked nine-hundred-ninety million nine-hundred-ninety thousand nine-hundred-ninety times out of a billion, but that billionth caller definitely got more than a few free musicwares and a backstage pass to the Oboe Osobists. That never was the problem with Scolopendrans; the problem always was, in their minds, that it was overly complex (more parts to break) and ludicrously inefficient energy-wise. Just because one has the energy doesn't mean one should throw it about all willy-nilly. It's fine if one absolutely has to get some place instantaneously and is willing to spend for the energy expenditure... but how often is that, really?

But, hey, that's the opinion of one man in a sky-blue-and-black uniform looking at a transporter pad. The fact that the opinion was created and reinforced by the culture he hails from is irrelevant at this juncture.

"Ah. A teleporter. Sorta snifty, I guess." Hopping onto the platform, Magnus camps it up true to form: Legs apart, arms akimbo with fists on his waist, body twisted to seemingly shoulder his way through the air, as he looks off into the distance with a smug grin. Magnus Hesche, Envoy to New Worlds!

"It's tradition," he explains mildy.

Night of Firey Sky is keenly amused at this point. She tucks the corrected sign under one of her arms. "Indeed. Alpha. New Krytan. District one. Ministry of International Affairs headquarters." The string of instructions complete, the pair shimmers and disappears from the bustling spaceport. Five seconds later they reappear in the lobby of the large, imitation Roman-style stone building that was the headquarters of the Xanthalian international affairs ministry. Night of Firey Sky steps from the platform, offering a hand to her guest. The lobby is is huge and signs, both permanent and temorary, are affixed and set about everywhere. In the center of the area is an information clerk. At first glance she appears to be Human, but closer examination reveals that she is an android. A chobit. The lobby itself has little furnishing except the ministry crest engraved in the floor and a few couches, chairs, and tables for those waiting or wishing to rest. Behind the pair is the main entrance, and ahead is the plaza entrace. To both sides are several doors marked with signs written in Xanthalian, and a pair of elevators. The area is dotted with officials and tourists, but is by no means crowded. Magnus' escort announces their location. "Welcome to the headquarters of the Xanthalian Ministry of International Affairs. This way, please." She starts off down a hall.

"Breeewwweeewweeewweee... eee... *cough*" Hesche's eyes dart about the room, half-smiling. "Wow, those supercarrier error-checking beams sure are noisy, eh? I have that effect on these things."

Stepping off the pad, he catches the glance of the clerk, snaps his fingers and winks jovially at the chobit with a short "Chi!" before turning easily on his bootheels and walking beside his escort with his usual martially assertive stride. "So, what's in store, Madam Night of Firey Sky?"

The Chobit doesn't even blink at the old joke and sighs, returning to work. Hesche's escort replies as the two stop at a door on their right. "Now you meet Jill Harumov, a diplomat of significantly higher status than myself. She's been appointed to give you any information you want on our nation and to give you a tour if you so wish. She'll be your main contact during your visit." Night of Firey Sky opens the door and motions Magnus inside. The office is a bright one, with a large outside window looking out onto the plaza. Outside the window, a few of the other ministries that ring the area can be seen. In the center of the plaza a stage can be seen in front of a giant statue of Zeke Zabertini, behind which towers the central government headquarters building, known commonly as Xanthalian Government HQ. The building is made of concrete, steel, and glass; and houses the central government and ministry cooperation offices, as well as the Triumvirs themselves.
The office itself is well-furnished with carpet, chairs, a couch, and abstract paintings hung on the wall. In the back of the 5x7 meter room, by the window, is a single, large desk topped with a computer and an array of documents. Behind it, a slender female Xanthalian stands up and greets her guest. "Hello, I'm Jill Harumov. Xanthalian diplomat, first class. You, I presume, are Magnus Hesche?"

OOC: Don't think I've forgotten about your man's odd appearance, Xanthalian diplomats are trained to ignore looks. It's necessary when you have to speak with species from across the galaxy and even the universe.

Magnus waves to the Than, then stands at an easy modified parade rest in front of Harumov's desk. You assume correctly, Doctor Stanley... All business. *sigh* How am I supposed to answer that? "No, of course not. I'm the Multiverse's Greatest Spy!" These people really need to work on their first-impression training. Honestly, I think Firey Sky back there has been the best impression I've had so far. Other than her... yup, stuck in a machine.

"Senior Diplomatic Officer Magnus Hesche at your service, Diplomat First Class Harumov." Hesche bows shortly, speaking in a level tone, far more formal than previous. "How does this day find you?"

http://www.weirdozone.0catch.com/projects/nationstates/scolopendra/magnus_hesche-big.jpg
(OOC: Odd appearance? And I don't recall Hesche boggling at the insectoid, you man-of-the-world you.)

OOC: Mmm. Good point. Well, everyone has their thing.

IC: The Thanic escort closes the door behind him and walks on to her next business. Jill moves around the desk and returns the bow. "You've learned our greeting already, I see. I am quite well, thank you. How about yourself?"

"I like to think of myself as a quick study," Hesche says evenly, "and the fact that our cultures seem to have such greetings in common is utterly irrelevant." Slight smile. "I've been better, but I've also been worse. My compliments to your escort staff."

Jill raises an eyebrow. "Thank you. I think." She smiles. "So, did you bring any documents on your nation, or did you plan on a verbal exchange of information?"

--1--

Hesche grins broadly, head tilted down just a little bit so it seems like he's peering from under his browns, then straightens up with a smile. Spreading his open hands, he shakes his head wryly. "Sorry, no papers. I was afraid they wouldn't make it through customs. Will that be a problem?"

Tag, don't mind me

Jill shakes her head. "Don't worry about it. I have some information for you to look at anyway, a general summary of our nation and its history, along with armed forces status." She hands him a folder containing TUXEDO (http://www.nationstates.net/forum/viewtopic.php?t=101823).

Hesche looks at the cover page then flips through the folder, yawning slightly. "Sorry. Rather dry reading." He hands the folder back. "Other than official languages and a few percentages concerning the religious leanings--or lack thereof--of your populace, I don't see much in the way of culture, which is always more interesting than metrics on this starship or that.

"Still," he shrugs, "you offered up a bit on your country." Or at least a pre-packaged pamphlet you had little to nothing to do with... hell, I could've sent out for that from a public library or off the 'mesh or something. He grins. "What would you like to know from me?"

"Xanthalian culture is... complicated. There is very little of it visible to the casual viewer. Most of our culture is tied up in devotion to the state and furtherance of the community. The values that our society was built on are taught to each new generation without fail. If we failed to teach our youth the values that we hold so dear, many would fall prey to the false promise of capitalist societies. We do not shield our children from the realities of life though. It was not too long ago that a few of our brothers and sisters left us to create their own society based on values of free market and political freedom. It... did not turn out well for them. Now a small, rich upper class exploits the nation's poor for the furtherment of their own wealth. It is a great sadness to us, but we have a policy in the Republic that we have held since the fall of the Empire: We do not interceed to alter the development of other nations unless they pose a direct threat to us or our allies. It keeps us at peace when others are drawn to war..." The Xanthalian sits back down behind her desk and motions her guest to take the chair in front. "I apologize, I've not given you a chance to speak yet. Before I take you on a tour of my nation and answer any questions you may have, I do have a few questions for you, some from my superiors and some to satisfy personal curiosity. First, how is your nation spread? I gathered from what little data we have on Scolopendra that you are still relatively new to space. Where are your Sol system colonies, and do you have any outside that system?"

"My nation spreads easily, like buttah or warm cream cheese," Hesche replies easily with a slight Cajun accent. "As for newness to space, 'fraid your intel's wrong there." He smiles wanly, taking a seat and looking very much comfortable in it. "As for our Sol system 'colonies,' as you put it, that's available from any decent public library or manilla folder." Wry, humorless grin and beat. "Do we have any outside the system? Yes. Will we tell you where they are? No. That's considered a matter of national security... and I don't even know where they are, to be honest."

Hesche sighs softly. "Just closing that line of questioning before it begins. Other than military, industrial, or security secrets, what would you like to know?"

OOC: I don't have a public library or manilla folder! I need you to tell me!

IC: Jill looks slightly deflated. "Your space colonies are secret?" She pauses. "Huh. Well, I certainly don't want to intrude on your nation's secrets. What do you think I should know about?"

Hesche chuckles softly. "Of course they're secret. Colonies are by their very nature outlying and more difficult to protect than the homeland. Preventing others from finding out where they are is an added layer of protection."

"Actually," he smiles a bit, "diplomacy is like making a friend. You don't grill them for facts or try to show off your shiny toys--that doesn't make real friends--you try to find out who they are. What they're like. Their goals, aspirations, likes, dislikes, opinions. So, honestly, I think you should know and be interested in our culture, history, relations, goals, and ideals. For example: The Segments evolved from a Mediterranean Basin society. We have an Arabic plurality, and thus Arabic culture permeates us completely; this includes the basic rules of hospitality. If you invite someone to your home, you meet them at the door to make them feel welcome. If we invite someone to Scolopendra, we meet them on the tarmac to help them get accustomed to the society, get through customs, feel more at ease.

"We do not fling them unsupported into our strange land. Honestly, Night of the Firey Sky was the first person in your country to talk to me like a real person other than just another face or another pack of meat to process. I think your diplomatic corps can learn a lot from her. I don't mean to offend, but your system is in dire need of work, Diplomat First Class Harumov.

"My final complaint... if you invite someone into your home, do you shove the coffee table book into their hands and say 'read this, it's my family history?' Honestly, transmit pamphlets while in transit. Talk to them when you're face to face.

"Then again," he says with a wry grin, shrugging softly, "if all you want to know are the metrics of our shiny steel space penises and how many cubic meters of aluminum, steel, titanium, and composite armorplate their guns can penetrate, then I should just turn around now, go home, and have the Combined Services send you a copy of Jayne's All The Multiverse's Warships."

Jill sighs. "You are right, of course. The system is not warm to its visitors. I and the others like me are the only ones who can make it thus; and we do what we can. But enough of this criticism for now. Tell me, what do you wish to know of our nation? I will answer any questions that I can."

"Like I said, no hard feelings. Just the critique of one professional to another," Hesche says in an easily jovial voice. "As for what I want to know, just the things I mentioned. Still, that's quite a lot... so for starters..."

Magnus leans back in his chair, smiling broadly. "Oh, this one's always fun: What are the moral norms of your culture, and what, if any, taboos go with them? For example, in Scolopendra, a sort of laid-back but respectful attitude towards others is key; we have no nudity taboo but we do have a sort of national discomfort when talking about particular historical events."

Morally we are fairly normal. We are opposed to needless death, and capital punishment has been outlawed here. Our people are taught to appreciate the economics practiced here, and to see the benefits of socialism. Most of them feel a strong allegiance to the government, but they are not afraid to step in and make changes when change is needed. Most of us have a distaste for capitalism, but we try to understand that it is a choice that each nation is entitled to and our government maintains positive relations with many capitalist nations. Public nudity is illegal, mostly because of an old law that no one cares enough to repeal. There's very little that's taboo here, but it is worth noting that it is illegal to discriminate, and to do so even verbally is a class three offense. Our history is fully taught to all citizens, so there's usually not a problem with discussion. There's a general feeling of discomfort surrounding Xanthalian history in the twenty-third century though. The days of the Empire were not our best, and the civil wars that occurred both before and after it were not helpful either. That discomfort stems from the regressive nature of that period of our history. Xanthalian is highly progressive, and regression is something most of us despise. Thus, it is unflattering to us that our nation took that path at one time."

"'Fairly normal,' eh? Everyone thinks they're 'fairly normal.'" Hesche chuckles slightly. "Us? We're utterly mad and proud of it. We've managed to get so many curious individual subcultures to get along without actually assimilating them. Certainly there's been mutual adaptation, but we have stable 'cultural salad' down like no-one's business.

"I do find the concept of 'verbal discrimination' curious." Magnus frowns. "So if someone, speaking in general, says 'a police officer should be ready to give her life in the line of duty,' is that discrimination because the officer could be male or female? If it is illegal to discriminate, how do you get anything done? If a quadruplegic opts out of replacement limbs and wants to be in the infantry, do you let him in like everyone else? Do your teachers not assign grades in classes, as that is discrimination? If someone is solely heterosexual or homosexual, is he or she fined for discrimination?"

The Xanthalian laughs. "I have a list that would span the radius of this planet if I printed it out defining what's punishable by law in that department. To summarize though, it's all about prejudice. Basically what it says is that you can be punished for denying someone who is able to do something the right to do that thing. Of course, that doesn't apply to things banned by law anyway, but you get the idea."

"Say one needs to hire a single employee to fulfill a task and there are two applicants. Both are able, but one is better. Picking the one who is better qualified is admittedly discrimination based on merit. Unacceptable?"

Hesche chuckles. "That is the problem with speaking in absolutes."

Jill shrugs. "Jobs are assigned by the government here. Every business operation is a government-run and -monitored affair. Essentially, everyone in our country who works is a government employee. It's not unlike capitalism the way we operate, it's just that the money goes through the government rather than the people. Everyone who fits a category the law defines as 'working' is placed in the job their filed personality and skills would best facilitate. Sometimes people don't get their first choice, but that's because we need people to fill positions in every field. There are very few who are unemployed, and those who are usually aren't for long. The government sees that everyone does their part. Our twenty-five trillion quinault GDP is proof of that."

OOC: By the way, Q1=$2; so basically $50 trillion is our GDP. That's what the calculator tells me, anyway.

Menelmacar: OOC: What are you doing here? And yes, it is. The difference is that there's no central planning. Everything is developed as it's needed, and supply and demand work just as they do in a capitalist society. The thing is that the supplier is the government. I think this is the first time you've bothered to talk to me. Does this mean you're finally willing to open relations?

Hesche continues to smile easily as he listens.

Jeebus H Hyskos. It's like Soviet Communism.

"I'm glad the New Economic Plan is working for you, comrade diplomat," he says breezily, "but we've found that the natural distribution of interests, combined with slot-filling caused by simple causality and people's contingency plans, seems to work well in our pseudosocialist system that incorporates enlightened capitalist personal- and corporate-trade practices to increase total wealth." He chuckles softly. "Or, at least, that's what it said in my old introduction to economics textbook when I majored in political science so long ago. I've Got a System, it was called, by M. Minderbinder. Great book... actually made socioeconomics interesting, even if the math was a bit confusing at times."

"Still..." he smiles softly, "the question demands asking. How are your jobs assigned... by computer, or a commissariat of economic growth, or by decree? And if your job was assigned... do you enjoy it? You mentioned first choice--I imagine it's a lot like a military officer's 'dream sheet' where they pick five and then get assigned one as per the Needs of the Air Force or the Needs of the Mobile Infantry or what have you?"

Jill thinks a moment. "That's not really my department, but to the best of my knowledge all the jobs are picked by an officer of the Ministry of Economics after an interview with the new worker, a review of their education, and an assessment of their skills. Then they look up on a computer where workers are needed and place the worker in the one that most closely matches their desired profession and skills. Of course, more than a few people don't get placed exactly where they want to be; so if there are no close matches the worker is usually called upon to make a choice based on what's available. If nothing appeals to them they must go to work anyway, but they will be rostered for a transfer to one of their professions of choice when a position becomes available. Like I said though, you'd need to talk to someone from the Ministry of Economics to learn the exact procedure."

"Do you enjoy your job?" Hesche smiles.

Jill smiles. "Yes. I do. Unless I'm dealing with a particularly annoying group of people. I think that's the bane of every diplomat though."

"Lessee... the Gurlanai, the Dragonesians... I always got stuck with the obnoxious ones." Hesche shrugs slightly. "Maybe they've rubbed off on me a bit; hopefully I'm not too much trouble. Do you have artists--I don't mean graphic artists so much as true artists who make a living off of unofficial creativity? I'd think that'd be hard to quantify in a controlled economy."

Jill shakes her head. "No full-time artists. There are plenty of people who express themselves through art outside of work though, and for some of them it serves as a second source of income."

"How can they if the economy is controlled and all monetary exchage goes through the government?" Hesche asks.

"All money goes through the government, but not all money stays in the government. What's left after it has funded all of its operations is redistributed among the citizens to spend as they wish. It's really only between twenty and one hundred quinaults a month that people recieve, but since none of it has to be spent on food, water, a home, utilities, transportation, etcetera, which are all government-provided, it goes a longer way then most would think. Most of the money finds its way back to the government when people buy things from stores which are, naturally, government-controlled; but a lot of it is distributed between citizens in private exchanges as well. Anything that someone buys with the money they recieve in their paycheck is their personal property. It works out very well for us, as long as people play by the rules. Most of them do, and the rest are brought to justice by our omnipresent police. It helps our economy by providing incentive to work harder to earn a bigger paycheck, the amounts of which are determined on a bell curve based on job duties and preformance, and allows for a small private market to provide for artists and hobbyists."

"Heh. Payment inequality based on meritocratic discrimination." Hesche winks. "Still, if it works for you, that's all that really matters... but enough on economy. What major ethnic and cultural groups make up Xanthal?"

"The irony isn't past me. What the government has done with that money in terms of redistribution is technically illegal. No one has brought it to court yet though; and the entire discrimination law is on the agenda for an overhaul by the Ministry of Justice." Jill pauses and takes a drink of water, pouring a glass for her guest and offering it to him. "Xanthal is made up primarily of Areligious Xanthalians. The Than are our next biggest species group. Comparatively small groups of Elves, Saurians, Humans, and Catpeople live here, along with a smattering of pretty much every other known species. There are no real cultures, most of us kind of get shoved into the mold of the nation at large, but there are of course the minor traditions specific to certain species. The biggest cultural divide is in the area of religion, but that doesn't cause many problems for us. We get along fairly well."

Magnus quirks a brow, accepting the water with a nod. "That's the first time I've heard 'Areligious' used in the context of a species. What makes 'Areligious Xanthalians' different from other species?

"Sorry to hear that everyone's essentially the same." Hesche shrugs. "Back home, the culture varies from block to block, and the neighborhoods get some interesting mixes. Street bazaars and vendors are always fun, really, and it's great to watch business signs change from Mandarin to Greek to Swahili from street to street. Still... if there's no real sub-cultures, what about the national culture? What makes it different from other cultures?

"We've got almost every religion ever heard of, and they get along just well. There's no need for that to cause any 'problems...' but as you mentioned, you don't have 'many.' That suggets a 'few.'" Hesche grins. "What kinds of problems do you have?"

"Xanthalian is a species. Areligious is a mindset. There are three primary classifications regarding religious belief in Xanthal; religious, areligious, and antireligious. These can be applied to any population, but as far as I know we're the only ones to log citizens in those categories. The national culture is characterized by loyalty to the state more than anything else. We also have a strong sense of justice and morality. Of course, that applies differently to different people; but there are no distinct 'groups'. As for problems between religions, they mostly consist of legal disputes over space in the Church of Xanthal. There's always some debate over which religions are to be granted their own sanctuaries in each district. Obviously we can't accomodate everyone though. And as far as I'm aware its never escalated to violence. Its better than the ban on organized religion we had in our nation until the twenty-fourth century. The Church of Xanthal does a very good job of seeing that all religious groups are accomodated."

Hesche allows himself to blink. "So even your religions are managed by an overarching government bureau-church? Still, that doesn't answer how a Xanthalian differs from, say, a human or an elf or a catperson."

"A Xanthalian is a hybrid species, a product of interbreeding. We may look mostly Human, but we have a slight exoskeleton, and our physiology is... Well, let's just say it's complicated. In some ways we're superior to the individual species we originated from, but in others we're inferior. Xanthalians have physical abilities equal to that of a Human, it's brain functions where we differ. For example, a Xanthalian brain has an immense capacity to reason compared to a Human one, but operates much more slowly generally compared to that of a Human. In short, we can think better, but not as quickly. There are variations of course, just as with any species."

Magnus nods. "Odd," he says, prefacing before taking a slow sip of water, "it was my understanding that most sentient species with a few rare exceptions cannot interbreed due to chromosome counts, genetic misalignments, et cetera. It's like trying to zip together a bunch of zippers of different designs and sizes, is how it was explained to me. I know the Territorians got around that with their posthumans through genetic manipulation... are Xanthalians a biproduct of direct genetic contact between species or are they genetically engineered?"

"We are the product of romantic relationships between members of different species, the procreation between which was facilitated by genetic manipulation chambers. So yes, to be crude, we are genetically engineered. Indeed, with the same technology used by the Teritorans. We acquired that from them, and it forms the basis for most of our modern medical technology."

Hesche decides to not think overmuch about how "romantic relations" and "manipulation chambers" of any kind go together and simply accept the fact that, apparently, it must work somehow.

"The Territory Co-Prosperity Sphere doesn't quite use something like that, but I haven't been keeping up with the gengineer trade. We've got several nonhuman species, but only metahumanity and some other close-relation humanoids are mutually compatible. The kzinti... hell naw. I know there's been some posthuman attempts at incorporating their genetic code but 'romantic relations' would probably end up being lethal for someone in the mix unless both involved were very, very careful.

"So, on to economics. What kinds of things do you have to import and what things do you export? What is the concentration of your industry, and what technologies do you use?"

"We import technology and consumables. Our exports are mainly the same. We have very little industry, and it decreases as replicator technology continues to advance and allow the replication of more and more complex materials. We use too much technology to list... Do you have any particular area of technology you're interested in hearing about?"

"Not really, no," Hesche chuckles, "I'm a diplomat, not a technologist. I'm more interested in what effect this technology is having on your society. While industry shouldn't be reduced by any particular sort of production technology--items are still produced, no?--I can see how technological solutions to production will marginalize working labor. How does your society address that and the common physical adaptations to a highly technological low-labor society?"

"I apologize. Industry has a functional meaning in my language not recognized by the translator. It refers to factory manufacturing. Our society usues every bit of labor it has. Replicators can't assemble complex machines, and they have to be moved and installed. Plus, most of the technology we use needs some form of sentient monitor or operator. Then there's the things that pure manpower is needed for; things like our Military and staff for our Armada. We may not have many people in manufacturing compared to other societies of our size, but there are plenty of other jobs to fill. In the occasions where there is a surplus of labor, those with no job are provided for by the government until they can be assigned to a function."

OOC: The Xanthalian language is a bitch to translate, so I blame all my errors of speech on it.

"I see," Magnus replies before taking another sip out of the glass of water, "but it cannot be denied that as a culture modifies its environment and lifestyle with technology that culture's physicality adapts to conform with the least expenditure of energy in that lifestyle. As more and more production and assembly work is taken over by replicators and robots, there is less need for physical labor and, as such, people begin to atrophy, not needing to exert themselves physically so much. How do you deal with that?"

Jill shrugs. "We don't. There have been no problems yet. It's not as if we sit around and do nothing all day. Few of us are what you'd call buff, but we get our share of normal excercise in everyday activities. And some professions require excercise, like the armed forces. We're not atrophying any more than the average white-collar worker who sits in an office all day. If problems surface in the future though, we'll deal with them then. Our goal is to keep up with our progressive nature. We're in a constant behind-the-scenes struggle to adapt our society to embrace newer and newer technologies. As I've said; our state is one of the galaxy's most progressive. We don't save our past for posterity. As soon as there's something better, the old things get destroyed. I suppose that's another reason why the arts don't seem to play much of a role in our society. Of course, burning our bridges after we cross them has led to problems for us more than once in the past."

Hesche chuckles softly. "Thoreau must be spinning in his grave, then. I suppose that redundancy is frowned upon?"

"Redundancy is frowned upon here only if it's not necessary. Besides, some things just work well. We don't throw away a superior old for an inferior new... Well, usually we don't. Every once in a while someone makes a mistake with something like that. By the way, who is this Thoreau you speak of?"

OOC: I know who he is, but Xanthalians generally aren't very well versed in old Earth things, especially writers. Chances are good most of them have read the stuff, there's just absolutely no emphasis on authorship in Xanthalian schools. Kinda a socialist thing I guess...

"Philosopher, stuck himself in a rotting wooden shack next to a pond so he could bitch about modern life." Hesche grins. "Hated complex systems and lifestyles brought about by new technologies. Certainly a useless fellow to a progressive society such as your own.

"How do you deal with information overload and the constant drain of destroying and replacing obsolescent systems, as well as constantly training the entire populace to new systems?"

"Well, with the technology and workforce we have keeping up isn't usually a strain on resources unless something is discovered that will change our infrastructure. Those projects are usually gone over by all concerned ministries and put on a timeline between ten and one hundred years, depending on the scale of the change. Training isn't really an issue most of the time. For new public systems, such as the planetary transporters you used to get here, basic instructions are posted near the sites for users until everyone's used to them. Mostly though, we self-train; just as you would when, say, you got a new operating system for your computer. It takes a few hours, but its not difficult to pick up. And it's not as if we don't print instruction manuals. Really, only a few people must be trained; namely those that would cause major problems if they didn't get it right the first time, like emergency dispatchers or facility engineers."

"Ah." Magnus nods, smiling softly. "Now that I see how the emerald city works, I guess I should change the tack of my investigation. You obviously have... pardon, had other cultures that you subsumbed into yours; what difficulties did you face?"

Jill shrugs. "Sorry, that was way before my time. I could look up a historical record for you, but I got the impression that you didn't like reading when you could talk. I could tell you what little I know, if all you want is an overview."

"I'm not looking for a doctoral thesis," he replies with a grin of his almost-too-white teeth, "a quick summary by someone who glossed over it for a month in class several years ago will do nicely."

Jill shrugs. "Most of our integrations weren't problematic, as those that immigrated to our nation did so by choice. There were some cultural clashes, but nothing major. The biggest controversy of a cross-cultural nature was over the Than system. The Than were the first species Xanthal encountered in its early exploration of our corner of the galaxy. Both nations got along famously and signed several pacts, but it became quickly evident that the Thanic government was collapsing. Without consulting with any officials from Xanthal, the Thanic government signed itself to Xanthalian control once it became evident that its end was imminent. Faced with the choice of leaving Than IV and VI in chaos or interceeding at great personal cost, the Xanthalian government chose the latter. The result can't be explained, even to this day. Not a peep of resistance was heard from the Than, the nation quickly regained its feet, and the Xanthalian government was ratified as the legal government of the entire system. For all intents and purposes, a miracle. Problems didn't develop until much later, in the days following the fall of the Empire and the rise of the Republic. Than VI seceeded from the Xanthalian nation and declared war on Than IV. The Xanthalian government did the only thing it could and defended Than IV, quickly defeating the enemy forces and occupying Than VI to keep the peace. The order held for only a decade before Than VI revolted under the leadership of... Ah, I can't recall his name. Anyway, he led the revolt that drove Xanthal's beleagured government to evacuate Than IV and abandon the system. For twenty years the system was ruled by the leader of the revolt, who crowned himself prince of his own principality. He was cruel and unconerned with his system's welfare, and when he died the Than welcomed Xanthalian investagative teams with open arms. The Republic took back the Than system and began to rebuild, though it took almost one hundred years to undo the damage done to it in thirty. We've had a rough time, and there are still political isues between Aellis and Than, but today the two systems live in peace under the Xanthalian government, and there's every indication that things will only get better."

"Easy come... easy come..." Magnus grins. "Everything just keeps coming up roses for you. I mean, government control of everything and everyone happy with it, a self-sustaining culture that has absorbed all that it has set out to, creating naught but happiness and contentment in its wake. Constant progression of technology that doesn't drain your resources as the people's democratic republic forces its way ever foreward!"

A soft chuckle as he drains his glass. "Speaking of the republic, how does your esteemed state govern itself? Are those tasks also determined to be necessary by computer and filled with officers of the state?"

Jill smiles. "We've had our problems, just as any other nation. Government corruption has been a major problem in the past, especially during periods when political freedoms were low. Thanks to our new system of checks and balances though, combined with increased political freedoms and a broader spread of power, we're doing better than ever before. Decisions are made by officials of the central government and of the ministries, all of which work together to ensure an integrated approach to policy decisions."

"Oh, that's good... that you worked through your problems," Magnus says cheerfully, "what are these checks and balances, freedoms, and how broadly is power spread?"

"In the new government power is shared by the Triumvirate and the Council. All citizens are obligated to vote, and primary power in the government is spread over the three Triumvirs and the twelve Ministers."

"Obligated to vote?" Magnus chuckles. "Brilliant! That way no one is excluded from the glorious democratic process. How many people are they obligated to vote for? How do the Triumvirs and the Council check each other? What are their duties and responsiblities?"

He leans foward, resting an elbow on his knee and his chin on a lightly balled fist. "I'm quite intrigued, really."

Jill sighs. "I'm not going to go through our entire political process, so I'll give you the summarized version. Each citizen has one vote when electing a Triumvir elect, which is done each time the previous T.E. either takes office to replace a dead, impeached, or retired Triumvir or when that previous T.E. dies or resigns their position. On each ballot are two choices, selected by a primary election between the original candidates, of which there are usually between five and twenty. Majority wins the position. Ministers, the leaders who make up the Council, are elected by the employees of the ministry they work for when the previous Minister leaves office due to death, impeachment, or resignation. The primary and final election of a Minister is carried out the same way it is with a Triumvir Elect. Triumvirs and Ministers are elected for life, but can be removed from office, impeached, with a majority vote from their electing bodies. These impeachment votes are held when either 30% of the body's voters express their desire for such a vote or when a majority of the Triumvirate or the Council orders such impeachment votes to be held."
Jill pauses and takes a drink of her water, offering the pitcher to Hesche. "Generally speaking, the Triumvirate decides issues regarding international matters and the Council makes decisions on issues closer to home. Anything passed by either the Triumvirate or the Council by majority vote, with the exception of a constitutional amendment, is legal. Either institution can veto a decision made by the other institution with a certain number of opposition votes. If a bill passes the Triumvirate with a 2/1 vote, the Council can veto it with a 7/5 vote. If a bill passes the Triumvirate 3/0, the Council needs a 10/2 opposition vote to veto it. The same numbers work in the converse instance of a Triumvirate veto."

OOC: You're really giving my hands a workout... Good questions though.

Magnus gently holds up a hand at the offer of the pitcher. "How is the judiciary handled? If you have a constitution, then you need a faction to evaluate and interpret it so you have an authority that says 'this is constitutional and this is not.'"

"The Ministry of Justice manages domestic law, but not the constitution. There is no sole interpreter or group of interpreters to determine constitutionality; the Triumvirate and Council are expected to check one another on that as well."

"How? Having two seperate groups with two seperate interpretations that enhance their own power is almost asking to create a schism."

"We haven't had any problems over the constitution so far..."

"That's quite unheard of," Hesche replies with a quirk of the eyebrow, "every constitutional state has had issues concerning its constitution. That's the whole point of it being constitutional--as the situation changes and people have appropriate grievances against the current state of the constitution, the constitution is changed to meet the new needs of the modern situation.

"Having two distinct entities that are theoretically supposed to check each other over the constitution that defines them both is asking for trouble, if I say so myself. The Triumvirs will naturally attempt to edit the constitution to better suit them and their power bases; the Council will do the same to try and enhance their own power. As each side strikes down the favoritist amendments of the other, it creates a rift, a sense of 'us versus them.' Conflict emerges within the government, soon reaching a point where the dichotomy is so severe nothing can be accomplished because there can never be agreement or compromise."

"When the constitution needs to be changed, the government has always worked together to change it. Power struggles do not occur in our government."

OOC: As odd as that sounds, it makes sense. Leaders that have tried to do those kinds of things in the past have been hounded from office so fast you wouldn't believe. Couple that with the acceptance and cooperation values drilled into everyone here and you get a system that works. The Xanthalian government has peacefully shifted power not just from one person to another, but between entire institutions without major incident. That's the magic of it. Everyone works together to achieve things because that's what the society is designed for and that's whst they were taught to do. I don't know why it works, it just does. I don't like RPing a nation in chaos very much; so I make my characters cooperate. When I want trouble I stir some up for myself. And believe me, we get our share of trouble. You're just asking the wrong questions. For instance; the two civil wars we had in one century.

Magnus half-grins wryly. "Fair enough." No wonder Simmias is worried about me. "What is your education system like, to produce such citizens?"

(OOC: "Magic" is right. The problem with socialistic and communistic system are that people are greedy, no matter what they've been taught; we can thank three million years of human evolution for that. On small scales it is not a factor; on national scales there are sufficient greedy people to not play by the rules and ruin it. Power also has a severe tendency to corrupt any official... and corrupt officials are not hounded out of office by complacent people. If things have been, are, and will always be good, then the populace is more like than not very complacent and so a little bit of corruption will go unnoticed: 'Things like that don't happen here.' By the time it actually registers, it's often far too late.

Still, it's your nation and your call.)

IC: "Every Xanthalian child begins school at the age of two, and attends up to the age of twenty. After that, they enter specific education or job training depending on their assigned career field, along with general advanced education. The time spent in school for that depends on the career they are headed for, and can take from one to five years. From age two to age four children are taught basics of life, like names, numbers, and recognition on an ascending level. From ages five to ten they are taught basic math using addition, multiplication, and devision and advanced linguistics. At this age they are also educated on the economics which are so important to us. They are tested on their knowledge of varius political and economic systems. From eleven to twelve the focus is on science introduction. Starting at age thirteen they are moved on to higher education comparable to other nations' high schools and are taught in a wide rang of fields, from math to science to social studies to foreign language. The school day runs from nine in the morning to four in the afternoon. Class size will always vary of course, but by law it cannot exceed ten students in first and second level education, fifteen in third level education, twenty in fourth level education, and thirty in fifth level education."

OOC: I know. The system I designed can work with real people, but much less smoothly than it does with my robots. Keep in mind that our Human population is fairly low... Who's to say what those other species' traits are?

Hesche nods, leaning back. "Why don't you teach the children foreign languages when they're two to five, when the language and speech centers are formative? Waiting for such an advanced age makes it more difficult."

"Because linguistics isn't important to teach with the automatic translators we have. To learn a language that you can 'speak' using a translation device already would be redundant."

"Then why teach languages at all in the thirteen-plus category?"

"Why indeed? Mostly because many people have a desire to actually learn and know the languages of others rather than just depend on a translator. Foreign language is kept in the curriculum because of the fact that people who have a basic knowledge of other forms of expression have a higher overall broadness of thought. If one is exposed only to one language all their life, they tend to be limited by it. At least, that's what research has shown."

"So... you don't teach languages when it's easier for people to acclimate to them because it's 'redundant,' and yet you allow that redundancy at a later age because it makes them 'broader?'" Hesche shrugs. "That doesn't really make sense to me, but, then again, very little does."

"It's important that one chooses whether or not they wish to learn a foreign language and that they choose which based on their ambitions. If we simply taught a random language to each student when they were two, there would likely be no application for the student later in life. The importance of learning is the desire when it comes to language, especially in a world where you can communicate universally with only one language."

"Then given how your culture disdains redundancy, I really don't see why anyone would arse themselves to do so," Magnus replies breezily, "and I very much doubt the languages would be random. We have two 'official' languages, so children learn Arabic and English. Each subculture also continues its own language... the subcontinental Indians speak Hindi, the Chinese speak Mandarin, and so on and so forth. Some children with multicultural parents learn four or five languages simply through immersion. It hardly holds them back, and I've never heard any worthwhile complaints... it just becomes part of the person."

Definite r-brane disconnect threat.

"What's your stance on multiversal politics?"

"What's a multiverse?"

Hesche frowns. "The odd form of alt-reality in which we live that fails to conform to some of the more basic rules of reality we may or may not have grown up with. Like the entire surface of Earth being claimed and inhabited a hundred times over with a pastiche of nations. Millions of people blinking into and out of existence, with entire nations falling off of maps as reality is redefined by the observer or the observed. Where even the basic laws of physics seemingly need not apply for some.

"Y'know..." Magnus waves a hand around idly, indicating the room and then some, "...that thing."

OOC: I always assume that NS Earth is much bigger and includes more continents than the real Earth. Nations that disappear have done so for a reason (such as governmental collapse), but their people still exist. They're just non-aligned. Over time they filter in to other nations along with the normal population growth. Nations that make godmodish claims are lying. It's not hard to account for these things in a realistic sense, you just need to not interpret the game literally.

IC: "So basically... The universe? We're willing to speak with and interact with anyone, so long as they're not shooting at us."

"What are your greater goals in the international scene?"

(OOC: Well, I don't. Making a planet 'bigger with more continents' doesn't really help much, because it'd have to be constantly expanding to boot. Also given the different world-views, backstories, and physics of various nations, they are impossible to reconcile "in a realistic sense." IC, our history doesn't have elves and starships and Galactic Empires.

Thus, IC, reality must be broken, and I'm going to stick to that.)

"Our current foreign policy calls for the establishment of as many friendships as possible, as well as a connection to at least one alliance other than the failing IDI. We've temporarily halted expansion of our armed forces, as their current draw rate of resources is at the limit of our ability to accomodate. We're providing help to any nations that ask for assistance into space, both for personal profit and establishment of alliances. Our current policy calls for caution and avoidance of established enemy nations, as we are currently seeking to prevent conflict which would necessitate a diversion of funds to the armed forces."

"Difficulties concerning the military-industrial complex, I see. Well understood. What is Xanthal's history on the international scene? You see, we aren't overly interested in sharing technology except with our closest friends, as knowledge is power." Magnus smiles. "Also, what do you expect out of any potential future relations with the Segments?"

"Our history is fairly good, though you'll find a black blemish on our record during the days of the Empire. Generally we've been concerned only with personal defense, though there are several notable instances of our defending others. The most recent incident occurred about fifteen years ago, and that was the total breakdown of relations with a former ally of ours, the Great White Holy Empire of Kecha. Our defense of New Xanthalian trading rights led to the running of a Kechan blockade by the Armada. The Empire's ships fired on ours, and the rest is history. After an all-out war was narrowly averted by the new dictator Zelda Zabertini the Republic called for negotiations but was ignored. Neither government has had any known formal contact with the other since."
Jill sighs and leans back in her chair.
"If we successfully establish a friendship or alliance with you, the Xanthalian central government will most likely seek relations with other Triumvirate of Yut members. If we can accomplish that, they will probably seek admission to the alliance itself. In the mean time, the Republic will seek the opening of several fronts. Trade agreements will be pursued, along with a possible general alliance and/or treaty. Exchange requests for technology will follow, and mabye some offers of joint efforts."

"Others, most notably the Empire of Sketch, tried to use alliances and treaties in order to get in good with us only to betray us later." Magnus smiles wanly. "What guarantee can you give us that Xanthal will not?"

"I can't. No one can see the future. Xanthal has betrayed an ally in the past, after all. The Bisons. That was an infamous nation for many years before they faded away into obscurity, partially due to our actions. When they and their allies, along with us, plotted to attack a nation innocent of any transgression, Pilot, we gave the attack plans to that nation so they would have time to rally their allies and defend themselves. We will not betray our devotion to justice for any ally. If you are fair and true, you will most likely enjoy a lasting alliance with us. If your government turns to senseless violence, however, we can not in good conscience stay behind you."
Jill sits up.
"And that's how it is and how it's always been. If you don't feel comfortable with that, we can still maintain a friendship short of an alliance. The Republic is highly moralistic, especially in this day and age. Our people will not tolerate corruption, and so neither can our government by decree of our greatest unwritten law: that the government shall always serve the people, never itself."

"Have you seen our motto? 'Idealism at Any Cost.' Diplomat First Class Harumov, you are preaching to the choir." Magnus chuckles. "Still, I personally find your lack of faith in our ability to keep true to those ideals quite disquieting, and I have a definite suspicion my superiors could feel the same.

"Thank you for arranging this meeting, as it has been very informative." Quiet smile. "I remember there being mention of a tour; perhaps we should adjourn for now so we can confer with our respective superiors and prepare for whatever other activities you have planned." Broad grin.

Jill smiles. "Trust must be earned, Mister Hesche. I can't have faith in someone I've only just met. That's why we're here though, isn't it?" She presses a button and the Than that escorted Hesche earlier enters. "We're done for now. Please escort our guest to his hotel so that he may orient himself and contact his superiors."
Night of Firey Sky nods, and motions Magnus out of the room. "Of course. This way, Sir."

Magnus quirks a brow, maintaining his even smile. "Indeed it does, Diplomat First Class Harumov, but someone has to make the first step. I believe my very presence here implies some sort of trust."

Nodding curtly to the diplomat, he waves cheerfully to Night of the Firey Sky. "Greetings once again. How have things been?" Chatting idly, he follows the insectoid along.

After a short trip through the building and the transporter, they arrive at the hotel. Grabbing a key from the clerk, the Than leads Hesche into the elevator. "...and he didn't recover from the shock for nearly a week. As you can imagine, uncle Valor never used the sonic shower again."

Magnus chuckles. "Poor guy. I suppose he should've read the instructions first, no? But where's one going to find a water-based shower in Xanthal, the Land of Progress?" He shakes his head, looking down momentarily as he flexes his toes inside his boots. "Well, it's been a relatively productive day, if not a little bumpy at times... but it's the bumpiness that makes things fun."

He looks at the Than and grins. "If everything came easy, there wouldn't be much point, would there?"

Night of Firey Sky chitters with laughter as the car begins to ascend. "So true. If everything came easy I wouldn't have a job. Speaking of which, I've been slated for promotion to a fourth class diplomat. It's only a secretarial position, but promotion to third class is usually quick for fourth class diplomats."

"Outstanding," Hesche says with a grin, "that probably means that your days of ferrying about obnoxious foreigners--present company included--are numbered!" He continues to smile. "I really do wish you the best in that regard. You'll do wonders for Xanthalian diplomacy."

If Than could blush, she would have done so. "Oh please. Really Mister Hesche, you're such a flatterer."

Not seeing a blush, Magnus doesn't associate the connotations thereto. "I'm quite serious, actually. If you remember to keep talking to others like real people, I'm sure you'll do better than a First Class or two I know." He grins, examining the architecture of the elevator. "Don't fall into the mechanistic trap and you'll do just fine, I think."

The elevator's glass doors open into a bright hallway made of an appealing blend of wood and metal and carpeted with a deep red, knitted cloth. Night of Firey Sky leads Hesche to the door to his room and hands him the key. "This is where you'll be staying. You'll have full access to the Xanthalian computer network as well as a private line to your government. You won't be charged for room service, so feel free to ask for anything you want. When you're ready to return to the Ministry, either tonight or tomorrow, call the front desk and I'll be summoned to come and retrieve you. Have a pleasant evening Sir."

"Have a good night, ma'am, and take care." Smiling, Hesche lets himself into the room and locks the door behind him--Interesting that the doors have locks in a perfect society...--before unclipping a blocky multicommunications device from his belt. Should have the range...

Flopping down easily on the nearest soft object and managing to look as sloppy as comfortably possible, he pokes the destination code for Bolo into the multicom with a finger. Quantum entanglement link established, he types in a quick encoded message, molecules inside his communicator spinning about molecules back on Bolo.

[code:1:80c071633f]TO: BOLO
FR: DO HESCHE
SJ: WHAZ HAPPENIN

WHAT UP CAPN <STOP> HAVE MADE CONTACT <STOP> WILL COMPOSE REPORT AND SEND THROUGH ON STREAM <STOP> MET SOME NICE PEOPLE <FULL STOP>

MY JOB IS HARDER THAN SOME MAY THINK <FULL STOP>

LOVE AND PEACE <STOP> THE ETERNAL THORN IN YOUR SIDE <STOP> THE ONE AND ONLY <FULL STOP>

MAGNUS[/code:1:80c071633f]

That being done, he types up his report which consists first of a factual account of everything that happened then a short analysis and statement of expectation. That should just about cover it. Now to see what these sonic showers are like.

The room is large and comfortable, with a central room containing a sitting area with TV and computer, a small kitchen and bar, and a sliding glass door leading out to a balcony. To the left is a midsized bedroom with an attached bathroom. The bathroom is small, with a water bath, sonic shower, toilet, and sink.

OOC: I'll leave the specifics of furnishings up to you, mostly because I'm lazy in room descriptions when I'm only going to use the room in one RP.

Magnus doesn't really do anything notable except prepare for the night and then zonk out on top of the bed. Waking up at the crack of dawn the next day, he once again prepares to be Magnus Hesche, Envoy to New Worlds, and waits to be summoned.

OOC: You do realize that no one will be coming for a long while. Hesche was told to call the front desk when he was ready.

Magnus checks his watch. Perhaps I forgot something...

(OOC: Adapt.)

OOC: Of course. I was just making sure.

IC: It was noon before the phone rang, a call from the hotel's front desk.

Magnus sits upside down in the most comfortable chair in the room, back resting on the seat and legs draped over the back, just because he can. Reaching out and snatching the phone off the hook, he puts it to his ear backwards. "Hullo?"

"Mister Hesche, this is the front desk. I'm checking in with you to see if you are prepared to depart."

"Um, sure."

(Feel free to fast-forward to something requiring actual interaction of some sort. :D )

OOC: Whee!

IC: ...Hesche arrives back in Jill's office about an hour later. He is greeted cheerfully. "So, would you like to spend more time in conference or would you like to start our tour?"

Magnus tries to think of potential lines of questioning and comes up empty. "A tour sounds good. Two days of inquisition in a row usually isn't a good idea for building acceptable relations. Lead the way, ma'am."

OOC: I hope this turns out better than my last two tour RPs...

IC: Jill smiles. "Certainly." She makes it to the front desk before the Chobit there calls out to her.
"Miss Harumov! I'm sorry, but Triumvir Quoss would like to speak to you." Jill pauses.
"Drat... Okay, plan B. Mister Hesche, would you mind greatly if it was Night of Firey Sky who led your tour? She seems to have taken quite a liking to you, and she's a knowledgable official."

Hesche nods with a smile. "Works for me. Her knowledge will be my guide. Good luck with the Triumvir, Diplomat First Class Harumov."

Jill sighs and has a few parting words with the front desk Chobit before exiting through the back door to the plaza. The android eyes Hesche suspiciously for a moment, then motions to one of the sitting areas. "Feel free to relax. It will take a few minutes until your escort arrives."

Hesche cants his head slightly at the suspicious look. "What? I won't bite or walk off with the fine china. I admit it was a bad joke made in the attempt to be cute and will avoid any such actions in the future." Magnus smiles genuinely, then bows shortly before turning to walk to the sitting area. Note to self: Sense of humor unappreciated.

Sitting down quietly, he amuses himself with little mind puzzles, hands folded neatly on his knees.

After a little more than five minutes have passed, the familiar Than appears in the foyer from a side door. Spotting her target, she makes her way over.

[this double post brought to you by Air Force News, which, in the words of the great Karma, has "the [crappiest] music ever."]

Hesche looks up, sees Night of the Firey Sky, and stands up with a wave. "Good afternoon, ma'am. How are things going for you today?"

She bows. "Quite well. Please, call me Sky. It'd crimp my style to have you calling me ma'am for the whole trip. Speaking of which, we're late. Come along Sir." She exits through the front door and sits in the back seat of a private hovercar that resembles a limousine.

Magnus grins. "Sky it is, then, Sky," he replies with a chuckle, "but only if you stop calling me 'Sir.' Hesche or Magnus will be fine."

He continues to chuckle as he settles into the hovercar, ignoring the thought that it's a bit too fancy for his liking. "'Sides, we can't have any crimping of style. 'Twould be a crime."

Sky (because I'm sick of writing it out, curse the Thans' phrased names) chitters. "Fair enough. Mister Hesche, would you like to tour the capital first, or visit some other locations?"

Hesche chuckles. "I suppose the capital first would be best, Miss Sky, seeing how we're already here. There's plenty of time to see whatever you'd like to show."

The car lifts off and starts forward at an easy thirty kilometers an hour circling the central plaza. "We'll start close to home. The buildings along the outside of the square are the Ministry buildings. There are twelve of them, one for each Xanthalian Ministry. They were built to resemble old Greek archetecture from the outside for aesthetic effect. The plaza itself you'll notice is not unlike a park. The paths leading from each of the ministries to the central highrise are used by staff and for formal occasions. The central building's outside is made mostly of clear steel windows and is reinforced duranium pillars that help support the superstructure. The building was made cylindrical to create a sense of balance with the circular plaza." The vehicle rounds the building and a stage before a gigantic human statue is revealed. "That stage is used for inaugurations and other public ceremonies. The statue behind it is made in the likeness of the nation's founder and our national hero, Zeke Zabertini." As she speaks the name, her head bows slightly in respect.

Magnus nods, clear blue eyes taking in the scene as Night of the Firey Sky describes it. "Quite interesting, really," he says at the colonnades and structures resembling Athenian temples, "back home we tend more towards the utilitarian Art Deco with an Arabic flair. Generally geometric lines with Moorish arches being commonplace." Noting the statue and the Than's obvious respect, Hesche takes on a suitably respectful air. "What is he known for?"

(OOC: Perhaps it may be easier if we covered conversations in some sort of IM program. If you're willing, TG me.)

Sky smiles. "Zeke Zabertini, as I said, founded our nation. He was appointed emperor of the Shi'in Ra state after its warriors had unified the Zithalian continent. He renamed the country Xanthal and put in place the policies that guide us to this day. He also established the elected dictatorship system that has been our government's leadership profile for most Xanthalian history."

Hesche nods, thinking momentarily. "Any particular reason he changed the name to 'Xanthal?' I don't recognize the language or meaning."

"Xanthal was a made-up name as far as can be determined. If one looks, it's discovered that there was a book and a company called Xanthal at the time, but neither one seems to have been a source of inspiration. Mostly the name change was meant to be a symbol for the inhabitants of Zithal. Zeke wanted to convey that he was leaving the feudal days and old customs behind and starting anew with a progressive society. As anyone who's gone through school knows, there's a lot in a name. Zeke saw that, and used it to help rally the support of those who had been taken under the rule of the Shi'in Ra state by force."

"Understood. It was more of something to call the new order rather than a throwback to the past or some old word of power. Makes sense, really, given the national tendency towards progress. What happened to the old imperialists who probably opposed the reforms?"

"They formed an army to oppose Zeke after the continent was renamed and his policies were made public. About two thousand of them marched on the capital, but Zeke was ready. They faced the Xanthalian army outside the city. The fledgling government army only had about a thousand members at the time, but they had access to the first imports of modern weapons to the nation. There was no contest. The resistance was massacred."

"So it didn't quite classify as a bloodless revolution." Magnus nods. "Not many do."

Sky sighs. "True. But that battle had an impact on Zeke for the rest of his life. He became convinced of the importance of maintaining order in Xanthal. To that end was created the large police force and military that endure to this day. It was no easy task bringing people that had known only feudalism for over two millenia to bay, but he did it. It wasn't always pretty, and there were many cases for the first twenty years of people being exiled or even executed for opposing the state. Fortunately, once the nation's infrastructure was put in place Zeke knew that he could afford to give freedom back to his people, and he declared the founding principles of this nation in 1980. Freedom, Justice, and Equality. Those three words have been the guides for the Xanthalian government ever since, and our leaders' mission is to keep those opposing forces in balance."

"What do you think are the biggest threats to those ideals today?"

"That's just the problem. A threat to one is usually a furtherance to another. That's what makes the balancing act so tricky. Our current national motto is 'Justice, Freedom, and Equality. Harmony and balance.' That shows our current order of priorities. They shift from time to time, as our situation changes. At the moment, Justice is the most valued stone. Freedom is next, and Equality is taking a back seat. Although it's obvious that all are still working towards the policy decisions our government makes, the more highly valued values get the most consideration. 'Harmony and balance' conveys the government's goal of not forgetting any of the three, but increasing some at the expense of others for harmony's sake."

"Makes sense. One always has to balance their priorities. Why does justice take precedence now?"

"Mostly because the public has demanded it. The Xanthalian justice system is highly effective, and our rehabilitation rates are stellar. However, the system hasn't been greatly altered for over two hundred years. Some of the practices of the rehabilitation facilities have been called into moral question."

Magnus quirks up an eyebrow. "Such as?"

"The main dispute is over the last-resort rehabilitation technique, applied to approximately 32% of the system's inmates. It involves the complete neural reprogramming of a subject. In essence, brainwashing."

"Hrm." Magnus nods slowly. "Then it's not really rehabilitation, is it? I suppose if the convict was utterly beyond rehabilitation it could be justified, but with a third being put through maybe it's just too easy to categorize someone and 'solve' the problem expediently."

"That's exactly the problem. It's the magic key to the effective reintroduction of former criminals into Xanthalian society. But the cost is being disputed as too high. Some are even arguing that it's unconstitutional; that the Ministry of Justice is effectively 'killing' inmates by giving them new personalities and memories. That argument hasn't gone far, but that hasn't lessened the dispute. The Ministry of Justice is opposed to any changes, and the implications of banning the practice are... unpleasant for the Triumvirate." The car completes its circle and proceeds down the street, walled in on both sides by highrises cut only by crossroads.

"Maybe your system of morality needs to be updated, or perhaps you need a find to actually rehabilite people. Those are the only two adaptations I can think of at the moment," Hesche says with a mild shrug.

"Morality isn't updated like laws are. It's our morality that started this conflict. If it wasn't for morality, this would never have been brought to issue."

"All things change in time. Obviously, in the past, it was considered morally acceptable to do this. If that has changed, then either it needs to be changed back or actions need to be changed to meet new realities." Magnus smiles. "Adapt and conquer."

"If morality alone was our guide the system would have been changed long ago. Unfortunately, there are other factors to consider. If we ban the practice of neural reprogramming, that immediately creates approximately one million people that must be disposed of or stored by the justice system. Since the constitution cuts out the option of just killing them, that means that we'd either have to build prisons that just keep them alive until they die on their own or find another nation willing to take convicted criminals in."

"What seems to be the difficulty in rehabilitating them?"

"Sorry, that's not my department. I guess it's just a matter of resistance to changing their way of life."

"Fair enough. Other than that, what issues plague the Triumvirate? Anything good?"

"The Kechan Empire... That's certainly a hot potato. No one wants to deal with it. Even the Triumvirate is trying to avoid making a decision on how to proceed."

"Why?"

"It's just too touchy. The Kechans were our allies and friends for five hundred years before the Two Day War ruined everything. Since the Republic's initial offer of diplomacy was ignored neither government has said a word to the other. There are Kechans in Xanthal that can't even go home because of the issue. It's been plaguing us for two decades."

"What's the Two Day War?"

Sky almost laughs. "You really didn't read the documents they gave you, did you?"

Hesche does laugh. "Hell, she was right there, standing in front of me! If they wanted me to do homework, they should've sent the assignment ahead and told me what chapters to summarize and what problem sets to solve."

Sky groans. Well, actually it's more of a low hiss combined with a warble. "Okay, you'll have to take my summary then. The Two Day War occured in March of 2490. New Xanthal had just announced a new opresive policy, and Kecha's space navy blockaded their home planet in an attempt to compel the New Xanthalian government to change the policy.

"Xanthal's dictator, Vladimir Museveni, ordered the Xanthalian Armada to cut the Kechan blockade with a convoy of merchant vessels. The Xanthalian fleet was fired upon by the Kechan blockade, sparking a battle which the Kechans lost miserably. Fleet Admiral Telemachus Rhade ordered the Xanthalian Armada to advance on Kecha for a full assault at one in the morning that night.

"The next morning, Museveni was found dead of natural causes. The nation's dictator elect, Zelda Zabertini, violated protocol by immediately seizing the position of dictator, but it was a wise move. She ordered the fleet to halt, and the number of Xanthalian vessels loyal to Rhade was too small to attack the Kechan homeworld. The attack was called off less than an hour before the assault.

"Rhade was removed soon after, and the Xanthalian government made two attempts to contact the Kechans, but both messages were ignored. The rest you already know."

Hesche nods. "Thanks. Still, its odd that the dictator decided to assist a splinter state whose policies are far different from Xanthal's." Hesche shrugs slightly. "Thanks, however, for fixing my deficient education."

"New Xanthal may have been a radical splinter state, but at the time of the war they had just been formed. Ties that deep die hard. If Museveni hadn't defended our comrades he would have likely lost his office. Of course, we know that he was going to die anyway; but the point is that he didn't know that."

"Fair enough." Hesche smiles. "I hope the Kechans do accept your advances someday. What other diplomatic situations are there?"

"None of anywhere near the significance of that one, but there's the effort to make friends with your people, and that's a big concern for the Triumvirate right now."