NationStates Jolt Archive

In a bunker in Allanea

“Is everybody ready?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Sheila Dolbanutaya, the new Allanean Acting President In Absence of Alexander Kazansky (APAAK), smiled as she surveyed the techies, peering into their computer s screen. Today, she thought, was going to be a great day for the United States of Allanea.
Nivensky, CEO of Allanean Arms, Inc. looked totally emotionless as he looked at the large screen which took up most of the northern wall of the room. Something was wrong, he thought. He did not know what it was, but it was definitely wrong. For example, this large screen looked just a bit too familiar. Just a bit.
Dolbanutaya took a big breath and started the Big Speech – the one she worked on for several weeks to write and memorize:
“Friends, Allaneans, Citizens!
Today, the United States of Allanea is taking a new step, a step into the future. We are going to fulfil the dream of hundreds of generations of people – that noble dream of rising of the surface of our planet and moving out into space. But this fulfilment of dream is not going to be symbolic only – not just a mere flight to the moon or an astronaut in orbit. This time around, we will do better.
This time around, we will create the possibility for Allaneans – for the ordinary, common man, from the Aissurian farmer to the Allanean city man – to have access to space – to the endless resources of the asteroids, the ore fields of Mars,” she pauses to cough, “the mines of Pluto. Today, Allanea is truly a land of endless of opportunity.
Have you ever dreamed of owning land? Starting a business? Traveling? Exploring? Discovering? Well, today we open to you the opportunity to do all these things. With the mix of the endless opportunity of space and the endless opportunity of freedom, there’s no limit to what we Allaneans can achieve.
I am not a woman of many words. I believe that the most important things can be said in a short form. And thus, without further ado, I announce the Gene Roddenberry SpaceDock!”
The Allanean Arms logo on the screen disappeared, showing a hi-resolution image of the SpaceDock. Indeed, the design was familiar. Too familiar. Nivensky paled. Dolbanutaya gaped at the screen, than blurted:
“Who the fuck let a Trekkie into the design team?”
Nivensky blushed. “Well, Mrs. President, I don’t really know…”
“Well, Mr. Nivensky, what I do know is that under our contract, you have the power to do whatever it takes to punish people responsible for such a thing. Whatever it takes.”
The corporate director scanned the crowd momentarily. “YOU!”
A young man in thick glasses wearing a look-alike Trek communicator on his shirt stepped forth.
“Was it your idea?”
“Well, yes, Sir, but I…” stuttered the young man.
The red dot of a laser pointer lit up on the communicator. The young man paused momentarily, but it was too late. The Acting President’s .50-caliber Desert Seagull pistol belched fire, shattering the communicator with the first shot. Even as the man was still falling, the second shot rung out. Then another one. Sheila kept firing until all ten hollow-point rounds were fired and the man’s chest, throat, and face were nothing but an unrecognisable red mess.
She smiled as she reholstered the weapon.
“I don’t really like Trekkies”, she said.

OOC: The station is not ready. It looks ready on photographs, and it’s ready on all official government reports, even internal ones, but it’s not. The internals are still being worked on, and the station is very uncomfotable to live on.

OOC2: The only thing mass-broadcasted is the speech, not the trekkie's execution.

bump

Earth Orbit

It had been quite a while since they had left earth to explore the universe.

But sometimes, one returns.

In this case, it was Sekhmet, suddenly 'popping up' with his small, but still rather capable craft.

Mhm... Nothing too interesting... There, Menelmacar... Bah, third worlders, need to push it a little, if they ever want to be something greater than a pointy eared amusement... He chuckled a little, before turning around, using surprisingly little energy.

Mhm... Not yet finished, hmmm? Little upstart.

He was watching the Allanean 'project', a bit amazed. To think that we begun on the same level... Ewww.

He cruised a little around this object, idly wondering if they would mind grafitties. But eventually, he decided against it, just resting a little in orbit, watching the work on the crude... object.

God, it's hilarious. Ought to invite friends.

OOC: We wouldn't mind graffiies, bump anyway.

Congratulations! This is indeed a major accomplishment, and the Technate offers its full support behind your peaceful exploration and industrial exploitation of the solar system. Remember: in space, we can hear you scream, so don't hesitate to give us a ring.

Congratulations! This is indeed a major accomplishment, and the Technate offers its full support behind your peaceful exploration and industrial exploitation of the solar system. Remember: in space, we can hear you scream, so don't hesitate to give us a ring.

OOC: Got a storefront?

In a space between the smallest confines of the smallest of inter-planck spaces, beyond time and existance itself, outside powers observed. With casual ease they watched the Ruetian appear, and scoffed, Humm, what hypocracy, commented one, in a way and using concepts that reached so far beyond mortal comprehension as to be more than godlike, godlike to the gods of men, as if they're anything but the kind of slime infinitely below the boot. Not a literal translation of course, due to their lack of boots, but it was close enough.

It was a mere whisper, barely noticeable, but quickly increasing in its sheer presence, and it wasn't too hard to notice it once the arcane technology searched a bit more thoroughly.

Yet, it was already gone, hidden between the quantum foam spitting out time and space, creating the universe as mere mortals know it.

Sekhmet cursed a little, and with but a thought, touched the arcane mechanisms inside his vessel, watching what was hidden, his mind expanding, searching, peeking backwards, into the very foundations of time and space, feeling, noticing, knowing, not bound by the tight physical confinements of the universe as primitive, pre- relativistic societies see it.

Bah. Them. He was all so slightly annoyed, though he had no intention of harming those arrogant, ignorant creatures (Though he had to admit that their mere form had its advantages, but still...)

For a moment, he wondered what to do, then he turned his vessel, all so slightly (Well, not really the vessel... he merely reorganised the structure of its matter), and another moment later, after experiencing the average mindset of the average Allanean, a pink FUCK YOU appeared on the Allanean station.

They probably wouldn't like the pink, but he was reasonably certain that they did like the term itself.

ooc: Yes, the FUCK YOU is there on Allanea's request. Would have preferred something more subtle, but meh

How rude, was the only thought at the insolent effort to notice them. Though it had actually succeeded, which was a surprise. Bored enough, and considering those that were not of their own to have no inherant value, they 'simply' collapsed Creation, and re-ran it to the same point but without that individual. Problem solved.

It all faded away, and for a moment, he (And creation) was indeed, as one could put it, unextant, vanishing in the waves of space and time, manipulated, abused, deleted.

However, even deleting information is information, information that can be found, gathered, used.

That he did, or rather, it did, since he wasn't there, yet. Not coonciously, but that wasn't necessary. Information finding itself, taking what it needs to recreate what was lost, and, after a rather extensive break, returning to that very point in time and space, appearing from the insanity that lies between universes, above them, and beneath them, Sekhmet wondered just when this annoying creatures would give up.

Especially since they weren't nearly as pacifist as he (or his kind) was.

Annoying bug.

Humm, it thought, Runt's survived. Perhaps I should use a weapon next time, it said, having used its equivalent of a gardening tool last time...

Oh well, one more go with this, and then I'll just get nasty

Again the universe was destroyed and again recreated, this time without the entire civilisation of Ruet ever having existed.

Now, lets see if I can return the favour. Sekhmet pondered a little, and contemplated turning his Bimbobox into an actual warship, but decided against. It's capabilities should be enough to deal with this minor annoyance.

Creating a separate universe out of a minor quantum bubble 10^-36mm in size isn't as easy as one might think, and it took him almost a fraction of an infinitesimally short moment of time until he could supervise the result. Good that I learned the trick for the last new year eve.

With the annoyance being trapped inside of it, he hoped that it wouldn't return within the next 10-^25 seconds.

Should be enough for a tea.

Awww, a bubble universe, how sweet it thought, idly expanding the bubble to effectively infinite size, moving everything from the original universe into that one, barring the opponent, who had miraculously survived yet again, and causing the original to cease existance completely.

Ruet, no matter where its (few) people were, Kuiper Belt, Andromeda, the past, the future, somewhere beneath the borders relativistic physics set the less advanced minds, did indeed notice the change, and one begun to worry.

They really need to teach their children some discipline.

More accurately, had it known more, it would have suggested that the Argurians needed to teach their pets a few more manners, but it was unlikely it knew such trivia.

Goddamnit. Sekhmet thought, now getting all so slightly angry. This deserves a spanking.

He was, of course, thinking of a basic reconstruction of his opponent's mind, on a quark- scale.

It had actually been pretty close, but hell... There was a reason for multidimensional splits to exist.

Idly wondering how the less advanced inhabitants of the new universe would deal with infinity, he pondered the results of a few so far unknown equations, and used them in the appropriate way, after editing a few details on his own capabilities.

Outsiders would probably notice a few exotic particles flying around from the place where the skirmish happened, the first signs that it was a little bit more annoying than what one would usually assume.

Imploding a few singularities of various kinds relatively close to this universe, he attempted to turn the very foundations of the being opposing him apart, then ordering them in a slightly different way. Spacedyfrogs are shiny.

It was a bit too simplicistic for Sekhmet's liking, but then, brattyness shouldn't be forgiven, for the sake of the child.

And sometimes, the old methods are still the best.

Of course, the sheer size of quarks on the scale in which the opponent existed precluded such things. With barely a second thought, it reversed the effect, 'restructuring' Sekhmet's relatively primative mind taking it apart and putting it back together as what could only be described as "pathetic mush" (no frogs here) almost instantly.

With a slight metaphorical twitch of a metaphorical finger, it cleaned up the spillage its opponent's clumsy efforts had let loose.

It actually took him several moments (4*10^-32) seconds until Sekhmet could restructure himself, luckily without suffering any kind of significant damage.

Saving your profile in the depths of the existence itself has its advantages.

With a slight chuckle, he entered the very same area, again, searching, finding the bug's presence, it's basics in the very foundations of existence, where everything lies, and, with less than a thought, less than an actual action, made sure that they vanished from this foundations, from an infinite amout of infinite universes, as well as the infinity between.

Of course, as had been demonstrated before, the so called bug operated beyond such puny causality bounds, and created an obscene number (1e+239) of copies of its now unexant physical, if such a thing could be called that, form, around Sekhmet, and sent a slight transmission, "Try something interesting on these ones, you're beginning to bore me-I-us-we who are."

Sekhmet sighed. It's always the same...

And indeed, it was. It was the annoying thing about this skirmishes never ending. Hence, the universe was full of them, and everyone tended to be a little bit busy.

However, having more important things to do, he decided to split a part of his mind apart, a part that was supposed to deal with this annoyance they should have eradicated long before existence became a term that could realistically be used to describe the nothing that had once been.

And, idly watching with a bit of amusement the desperate attempts of both, this minor part of his mind and the annoying amount of inferior existences to spill onto each other, he concentrated on more important things. Of course, not on discovering secrets, for all of them were known, but on creating new ones.

With casual ease, it reintegrated the opponent's mind, not bothering about the little cracks, metaphorical again, appearing around the edges, "Oh please," it said, "as if you get away that easily."

You little...

Some time in the past, just before the annoyance showed its interest, time imploded.

It was a bit cruel, and certainly not too detailed, acting on such a high level of structuralization, high enough for mortals to notice them, but right now, Sekhmet didn't care.

And splitting time from space had its advantages, especially with the annoyance being trapped in said time.

Quickly recreating a new one, and ensuring that the damage done to the timeline wasn't too bad (Though a few splits in the macroskopic world of the mortals could be noticed, but they didn't seem to do too much damage), he nestled in his seat.

OOC: Got a storefront?
Not a storefront per se, but here (http://www.noyuo.com/wiki/index.php?PalladianSpaceTech) is a page outlining the Palladian space force. I'm sure we can reach a reasonable trade agreement!

How much would your 25 mothballed Bodhi cruisers cost?

If one could imagine the timeline as a sheet of canvas, which Sekhmet had rolled up and thrown away, the thing that happened next was quite simple. The old one was returned, and the new one yoiked away, repairing the damage. Causality of course, did not have any effect on the entity opposing him, as he should have noticed before. It simply concluded that he was a little slow. No matter. It added another digit to the exponent of the numbers of false-hims surrounding the Ruetian. "Try again, boyo," it sent.

As you wish was the answer. It wasn't sent, though, the little something should be capable of getting it personally.

Casuality, being as restrictive as it may be, has its advantages. Like, no little & annoying buggers being in the way.

Well, right now, he had to deal with the problem a little bit differently.

With commands and actions based on laws and exceptions far too complicated and insane to be expressed in the languages of the mortals, he imprisoned the annoyance in a something that was, by all rights, impossible (Changing the basic laws of everything can come in handy), yet still there, idly 'calling' its owners, informing them of the rather unruly behaviour and the generally poor training it had.

The entity wondered how long it would be before the Ruetian noticed that they'd switched places 'during' the formation of the something. Not too long doubtless.

A brief dialogue with its owner later, and the Argurian 'smiled' a little, you think it tried to call me?

It thought it had.

Silly critter.

If one would symbolise the insane methods, energies, sizes and areas in which the following happened, one would see the following:

A wide, empty street, in a midwestern town in North America, a few scared people hiding between woodsheds or between horses, and two men standing there, only their fingers moving, as tumbleweed roles by...

And then, an insane fire exchange, not with conventional colts, but with multiteraton nuclear handgrenades, turning all around them into nothing, while both opponents are still standing.

In fact, this symbolisation is the best one could possibly imagine, considering the complete lack of expressions in the mortal languages to express just what happened up there... Between all the different existences, creations, and infinities.

Though it was worth noting that at least one of the wild men scurried around frantically putting everything back together after each explosion.

What a tiny, little mind. Sekhmet thought. It should know that it can clean up afterwards, instead of wasting its time now, while we're at it...

With that, he changed the metaphor, though he wasn't entirely sure if he prefered Samurai or Stalingrad... In the end, he went with Samurai in Stalingrad.

How much would your 25 mothballed Bodhi cruisers cost?
None are actually mothballed at the moment, they are being newly constructed at the Vigho Shipyards in the Eness system. When they are complete, which should be in a few months (ooc: RL days), they're all yours. Check your telegrams for more details.
Palladian Foreign Relations Sequence