NationStates Jolt Archive

Governor Seerak looks out over the third tier of the capitol of Sslaa 5, Palaai, at the sprawling complex below. Marvelous. A testament to our architectural efforts. The construction crews below drape several massive cloths over the entire structure in sections.

The complex spread for 1000 yards long by 400 yards wide, and stands 10 stories high. Numerous support pillars keep it off the ground at first-tier level. Inside were four oval-shaped arenas, multiple kiosk stands, seating in the tens of thousands and Jumbo-tron sized holo-display screens.

Okay, it is time to let the people know. Seerak turns on his black-scaled toes and withdraws to his personal offices, where a message is composed and sent over unsecured civilian bands.

[code:1:c81f4479ca]
It is with honor that I deliver this message to you all today. The Palaai Athletic Complex, 10 years in the making, is complete. To celebrate the grand opening, there will be a series of bouts staged in 1 (rl) day's time. Jugg teams from all the Sakkran holdings will compete in exhibition and regiional bouts including the newest team, the Palaai Pulpers.

If it is required, several civilian transports are standing by at Eeorouh Spaceport to accept passengers. Each ship can carry 500 passengers, and four ships are awaiting at their berths for all interested parties to come and attend. The shining stars of the Empire, Emperor Gorrm and his hatchling Ssaree, Advisor Kraah and Advisor Sszeera as well as CEO Kargaah have already confirmed their attendance.

Teams from Titan, Earth and Sslaa are slated to play, and the level of mangling promises to be high.

DISCLAIMER: These matches are not for the faint of heart. If you are prone to sensitive sensibilities, please remain at home.

Governor Seerak
Imperial Seat of Sslaa 5[/code:1:c81f4479ca]

Seerak leans back in his chair after sending the message. Alright. Let's see who responds.]

"Sakkra? Jugg Matches? Again? Merciful Lady, what have I done to deserve this fate?" Ambassador the Honourable James Grant held the Imperial Missive in his hand as though it were about to bite him. Or already had.

"Perhaps it's the way you amused one of the Emperor's hatchlings at the last festival," suggested Catherine Ravon dryly.

"She wasn't one of the Emperor's hatchlings, she was a sibling," corrected Charles Bishop. "She was one of Advisor Kraah's hatchlings, Thress I think."

"I don't care if she was the Emperor's mother!" Grant cried out in dismay. "It's a barbaric world for a barbaric race! Surely my service speaks for itself! Why the Emperor would waste my talents on such...appalling people I cannot imagine!"

Charles and Catherine exchanged a quick, carefully concealed glance.

"Very well. As the Emperor commands, so I obey. I'll put on my best suit and brightest smile and they'll never know how barbaric they are from my lips. Charles, do you have the sunscreen? I burned horribly last year."

"Yes, Ambassador."

"Excellent. We'll need transportation. First class this time, Catherine. Not like that abominable freighter we travelled in last time."

"I'll see to it, Ambassador."

"Now, about my schedule..."

Eeorouh Spaceport

Engineer Jouuha looked out over the spaceport from over his old office from before he retired from Imperial Service. The current Chief Engineer of the Empire, Llhaa, was an understudy of his at one time, and rose in the ranks of the Eeorouh R&D department.

The heavy transports encompassed the majority of the view. Jouuha looked at the massive heavy transports that were outfitted into star-liners. Hundreds of Sakkrans were boarding the star-liners, measuring into the 1,000 mark. "What is the rate of efficiency in the operation of those monstrosities?"

Llhaa looks out the window, standing next to Jouuha. "Since being refitted, they have proven reliable. A 1.7% margin of operational error exists, which is acceptable, yes? Redundant systems are designed to take over in the event of pilot error, though, which reduces that to .5%."

"Acceptable. It would be a real tragedy if that .5% ever became a reality. Survival pods are stationed aboard those ships?"

Llhaa nods slowly. "300 per liner. How goes your new line of work?"

"It goes well. The R&D facilities at H&K are about to come online. I've been working on the first product to be released, and it looks promising. I'm currently wearing it now, for testing purposes." He presses a small candy-like button on his sleeve, and the black robe shifts and whorls in colors, and then settles in on a cobalt blue.

Llhaa looks on, and nods as he feels the fabric of the robe. "Fascinating. It should be a hit among the neonate club crowd."

"Yes, I think that is what we are betting on for now. Local markets, and then foreign markets with word-of-mouth and placement marketing. But that is not my area of expertise. I'm working on color-memory retention of the material."

A soft *pweep* sounds on Llhaa's messenger. "Ah. It seems your personal transport is now ready. I would love to attend the Grand Opening myself, but, you know....." He nods over to the Imperial R&D facility at the spaceport.

"Yes, I know all too well. The call of duty is strong, and relentless. Don't let your job become your life, Llhaa. It took mine, and i'm only now beginning to feel like my life is mine again." He turns, and leaves the room to board his transport.

Llhaa watches Jouuha go, then looks out the window some more. A long, low sigh is all that is heard.

Imperial Palace, Kaer Askavii
Cetaganda, The Ring, Sol VI

"A Jugg match, eh?" muses Gregor Vetinari to himself. "HEY, TARVI! Wanna go to-"

"No," comes the reply from across the room.

"Why not?" says Gregor, puzzled. "I haven't even told you what it is."

"'It' is no doubt that Jugg match on Sslaa. While a Jugg match would be fun, I direct you to the date, and then at our schedule."

"Can't we reschedule? I'm the emperor, you're the imperial consort, surely-"

"And none of that matters to either your father or my parents. It was hard enough to get this trip in our timetable as it is, with the big event getting so close."

"But we have to send someone, it would be impolite not to! Emperor Gorrm and Kraah and Kargaah are all going to be there."

"Send someone else." Seeing the glare the other man was shooting across the room, Gregor wisely kept his mouth shut. 'Who would have the seniority and station appropriate for this?' The term 'senior' immediately brought First Justicar Vorsythe to mind, but that thought was quickly dismissed by the thought of the trouble the less-than-diplomatic old man could cause. Then inspiration struck.

Kelmikan Fortress (ImpMil HQ)

"I'm going where to see what?"

"Trust me, Aunt Signy, you'll have fun."

Legnerihes Mantresni walked into the dark throne room of the Dictator. To be summoned like this was nothing unusual; it had happened many times in the six millenia he had served the Infernal Lord.

However, this time, something was different.

The Dictator, Dorusceronis peered down at the Death Knight, and spoke.

"Legnerihes", his voice boomed. "The nation of Sakkra has organized a Jugg tournament to take place soon."

"Jugg, my lord?" Legnerihes queried.

"It is a sport. Atanracnad and I shall be spectating, as will Thintaedkran. Accordingly, I have chosen you to rule The Underground City in my absence."

"I will do as you command", said Legnerihes. It was a large responsibility, but he was confident of his ability.


"Excellent. We shall inform the people."

Several hours later, Dorusceronis, Atanracnad, Thintaedkran and Legnerihes, stood atop a balcony, watched by thousands of The Underground City's inhabitants.

"People of The Underground City", Dorusceronis began, his voice amplified by an enchantment. "As you know, the nation of Sakkra will soon begin its Jugg tournament. I expect many of you will be spectating.

Also spectating will be our minister of defense, Lord Thintaedkran Anrusnya, my brother, the Infernal Lord Atanracnad YlimNeicna, and I, your Supreme Dictator."

There was a murmur in the crowd.

"To keep order in the City, I have appointed Death Knight Legnerihes Mantresni to acting dictator, for the duration of our absense."

With a nod from Dorusceronis, Legnerihes stepped forward.

"I am Legnerihes Mantresni", he announced. "As many of you are undoubtedly aware, I am the second-in-command to Lord Thintaedkran Anrusnya, a Death Knight of the highest order. For the last six millenia, I have served The Underground City. It was I who led the army that reclaimed the City after the LuceEternan invasion. If there are any among you who do not believe me competent enough to take on this role, make yourself heard."

For a few seconds, there was a deathly quiet. Legnerihes smiled.

"Thankyou."

Dorusceronis stepped forward once more.

"You may return to your business", he said, and walked through a large door into the castle to which the balcony was attached.

Atanracnad looked out at the City for a few seconds, then walked through the door too.

Thintaedkran approached Legnerihes.

"Do you need any advice to aid you in this task?"

"I do not think so", Legnerihes replied. "It is a task with dire consequences upon failure, however to fail would require a severe lack of intelligence or exceptionally bad luck".

Thintaedkran smiled, and went on to discuss everyday matters pertaining to the City's Necromancer Academy.

<tag> out of town at the moment, and don't have time to post

<<BUMP>> for visibility. Reserve your seating now! Seats are going fast!

So, how about that local sports team?

Grant nods with satisfaction as he sips the wine in his glass. "Now this is the proper way to travel, right Catherine?"

"Yes, Sir," she replies dutifully. "It was kind of the Sunset people to give us a ride through their gates." And expensive, too. They're definitely capitalists.

"It's a sign of maturity, Catherine. When they say 'First Class,' they mean First Class! Their ships are certainly a cut above ours."

"Yes, Sir. They've certainly had the opportunity to devote to more luxury appointments," Charles says. He taps out a command on the pad in front of him, and the viewscreen switches to the approaching gate. "We'll be in the Sslaa system in a little over two hours."

Grant nods and breathes a sigh of relief. "Thank the Lady! A far more civilised method of travel, let me assure you. That FTL method our scientists developed gives me the willies!"

"It does that, Sir."

"Now, Catherine. I see that my schedule includes attending the dedication ceremony for a new Hatching Ground. I think it would be good for you to attend that function solo, to stretch your muscles a bit as Junior Ambassador."

Catherine shakes her head. "I'm sorry, Sir. I won't be joining you and Charles on the Sakkran homeworld. I received new orders a few hours ago, requiring me to stop off at our colony on Sslaa VIII. I gather they've had some difficulty adapting technology to the extreme conditions, and morale is low. I've been ordered to make an official appearance to remind the colonists that they haven't been forgotten."

"That's outrageous! Such an important mission, I should handle those duties!"

Catherine hides a grin. And get out of dealing with Thress, of course. "I'm sorry Sir, but my orders are clear. You're to continue on without me."

"But who will run interference for me! Who will handle the minor tasks to clear the way for my work? This is preposterous!"

"I'll do my best, Sir," Charles puts in. He doesn't look much happier than the Ambassador. He looks almost envious, in fact.

"You're not an ambassador, Charles, even a junior one like Catherine. Oh, you're a fine aide, but you're just not qualified for this! I must speak with the Emperor at once! This must be remedied!"

Catherine and Charles give an identical sigh of frustration as they prepare to dig in and convince their erstwhile "superior" that it's rarely wise, or healthy, to buck orders from the Ministry. The fact that they can't really explain why Catherine is being diverted to their tiny colony only makes the task harder.

Aboard a very much different ship, Lady Martial Signy Mallory is travelling in her own version of style. That is to say, she was currently striding about in an observation room of a General Contact Frigate that had been planning on dropping through the system in any case to pick up a load of Sakkran resin bound for Ivrel. The guest quarters she occupies (not the VIP quarters, at her own insistance, and no one was willing at argue) would likely not be quite up to the level of quality expected by Minister Grant. She, on the other hand...

"And another thing, lieutenant. You have no idea the kind of luxury your generation enjoys. Why, look at this!" She gestures about the room. "For us, even on an exploration ship the recreation deck would be half this size, and there'd only be the one. And the size of the corridors and quarters! When I made my middy voyage, full-g artificial grav was new, and we had six people in a room half the size of yours."

"Yes, ma'am. Quite interesting." Her aide, Lieutenant Ivan Patril, replies in what he hopes is an interested tone.

Mallory looked at him for a moment, then continued. "We didn't have nearly so much EI assitance. We practically flew and shot by the seat of our pants."

"Mmm-hmmm."

"Am I boring you?"

"Actually, ma'am," Ivan replied hesitantly, "I know for a fact that half of what you've said in the last ten minutes is completely false. Norway, for example, had ten riders, not six, her main battery was a third larger than you stated, and she had second-generation defense screens as opposed to none at all."

Mallory narrows her eyes and suddenly her voice becomes far more clear. "I see. Hmm, I think you'll do. It took a twice as long for my last aide to catch on." She drops herself into a chair and takes a sip of tea. "I never can seem to get the 'remeniscent old lady' act on without going overboard."

"I think you jumped the shark about the point when you started in on the, quote, 'new-fangled gravy guns,' m'lady," replies Ivan with a slight grin. "Still, I'm sure someone who hadn't done the research I had while growing up would be suitably impressed."

"I know I am," says a voice from a nearby floating remote. "Lady Mallory, we've entered orbit, and will be ready to send down your shuttle."

"Thank you, Stephan," Mallory replies. "Well, lieutenant, we should be off. Musn't be late to the, what is it? Horribly-Violent-Ball?"

"Jugg, Lady Mallory."

"Is it anything like tennis?"