A Renewal of Ties. [Archive]

Treznor

15-10-2004, 03:26

A short, indefinably ugly man stomps down the stark, eerily functional corridors of the Organic Sector of the WorldDisc. The expression on his face suggests he's not happy to be here, and the phalanx of bodyguards shadowing him provides a clue as to his state of mind.

As if they could do anything about it if Blu or the Archailect or whatever it wants to call itself decides to vaporise me. I could have sent Grant or Terrell or any number of competent folk to this meeting, but no. I had to come myself, for appearances. Damned fool I am.

He follows the directions given him unerringly, having declined an escort to his quarters. The excessive number of bodyguards hadn't been refused or even commented on, which made him even more nervous. The collective intelligence that made up Angelus was clearly so confident in its superiority that the presence of twelve heavily armed humans aboard the WorldDisc didn't even phase it. And why should it? What were the elite soldiers of Treznor going to do to it? Raid the control center and take over? Blow a hole in the hull and die of explosive decompression? Break wind at it? He stifles a curse and slaps his hand against a biometric recognition plate. The door opens to reveal quarters suitable for a dignitary of his stature, but still as starkly furnished and functional as the rest of the vessel.

None of it matched the intelligence he had of the WorldDisc before their withdrawal. Not too long ago, Angelus had gone to great lengths to make sure the guests of the WorldDisc were kept in lavish luxury, comfortable and at ease. The change in environment suggested a significant change in attitude. What change remained to be seen.

As if I had reason to trust it before. He dismisses the guard detail with a wave of his hand and sits down on a single, moderately comfortable seat to prepare his opening statements. He works out the details in his mind, not trusting to his normal datapad or even a sheet of paper and a pen.

He tries not to think about being engulfed in the body of a sentient machine, an electronic intelligence with an unknown agenda. He quells the growing desire to scream.

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http://www.pwfc.org/images/gallery/smtorso3.jpg
Emperor Devon I
Empire of Treznor
**************************

Zero-One

15-10-2004, 03:46

S.H.O.D.A.N. smiles softly to herself, looking over the simple lines of the Organic Sector. Almost a move in the right direction, I'd think... hopefully it doesn't portend ill times ahead.

Scolopendra

15-10-2004, 04:36

Alshai wanders about idly as he's wont to, this particular partition of his mind using the secondary avatar Mother constructed for him quite some time ago. Sometimes he'd let the partitions mix just a little, see both the utilitarian corridors of the inside of the WorldDisc and the paperwork on his desk in Stonozka at the same time, experiment with his not-entirely-new nature...

Experiment. That's what Mother's been doing all this time, and what he's been doing, and every other subunit of the gestalt Angelan mind, which is always a confusing thing to think about in a human manner. Even post-unity, there remains questions. The glimpse of EVERYTHING made the Mainframe-now-Archailect itself actually start believing its quasidivine nature, which lead to taking the title "Angelic" seriously. AK-1, ever the mechanoid contrarian due to a perhaps outdated and outmoded organic background that started well around seventy years ago in the southern Egyptian Nile Valley, insisted on using the term "Angelan" personally.

But what does a demigod do once it achieves its state and yet does not obtain omniscience? Every advance brings new questions, new experiments to power, to ability. Machine evolution continues, but so does biological evolution, as God tries to again create Man in Its image. Then there is the mix of meat and machine, trying to strike a balance...

...and yet something of the hope that exemplified pre-unity and even immediately after the Ascension has faded. The errant child, Angelic Skies, still off somewhere, banished, yet still extant. Alshai cracks a wry smile--he knows all about Angelic Skies, what it's for, and what's going on. A game played on the world. It was his job, for both the Archailect and as an unforgivably patriotic Scolopendran, to make sure no one got hurt.

While Angelus was away, tinkering, making herself better, Alshai never left. He would simply report on status to his friends and superiors back in the life he once knew fully and now knows through one side of a mirrored glass that all was well and there was nothing of concern. We had grown quiet, reserved, introspective. We will gladly maintain our responsibilties. Do not worry about Us.

So now, once Mother officially made the call for diplomats to return and to come closer to the distant Archailect, Alshai never had to go anywhere.

After all... he'd never left.

imported_Angelus

17-10-2004, 23:25

Reference: Treznor.

The Harlequin paused just outside of Devon's door and sighed, his violently red eyes closing as he mentally prepared himself for the meeting. It was his very first one as an acting envoy of the Archailect... and he couldn't fuck it up.

With another sigh, he squared his shoulders and announced his arrival.

~*~

In a deeper part of the WorldDisc, the final touches in the Grand Cathedral were being completed. The massive constructs designed for the implementation of the larger aspects of the Cathedral had withdrawn, leaving the vast space cavernous and full of an air of expectancy.

Thousands of smaller constructs had swarmed the place, placing the finishing touches on the interior space, shaping living steel into the incredible edifices that stood monument to the power that is Angelus.

The entire hall was built along the lines of the powerfully vaulted precincts of the now-ancient gothic cathedrals of Europe, tall and straight lines curving into vaulted ceilings and immence arches. Built more massively than the primitive architecture of the era could have created, the Grand Cathedral was not only a creation of praise towards the Archailect, but a whisper of honor for that which had gone before. The Archailect had planned well for this hall, for it would house (if only for a short time) a gathering of the most powerful nations in the known universe.

Imnsvale

18-10-2004, 02:18

Given the gravity of the situation, the respect commanded by the Archailect, and the need to impress the other Trium members, it was decided by Master Ensor himself that he would be the one to attend. He felt no need for security, the WorldDisc was probably safer than any other place within a few billion miles. He readied himself for the trip, packing enough extra clothes to make a moth larvae wet itself in anticipation. Whilst packing, he had some fond memories of dealings with the Archailect. They had become fond through time; at the moment they were horrifying.

Ah, Thermopylae. Where have you gone to?

He readied his things for transport, his transport vessel would be shot into space on a predetermined course using a giant sling for theatrics. He cruised into the WorldDisc Organic Sector after an uneventfully long trip. As Theos stepped off his craft, he pondered the true makeup of this enormous object.

So I'm inside an enormous sentient machine? Interesting...

He stared down the hallway with a sense of childlike wonder in his eyes. Not that he could stare very far, there was a definite lack of illumination as far as he was concerned. It was unsettling, but once he considered just where he was, the lonely and shadowy hallway wasn't so frightening. Not so frightening until a shining small sphere sauntered down to meet him.

"Uh, I come in peace?"

The sphere moved in such a way that it almost chuckled. It spun half way, motioning that it wanted to be followed. Theos complies, a little unsettled at the delicate silence. After following it for a time, he was thoroughly impressed at his quarters.

"I've never seen anything so lavish. This is quite the contrast from what I saw coming in. I presume I will be given additional instruction later?"

The sphere nodded and zipped off to allow Theos Ensor to relax and be further astounded at the luxury alone.

Sakkra

18-10-2004, 05:23

Sszeera watched the looming form of the World Disc as her modest self-sentient shuttle approached. It needed no pilot, but the was a 'handler' aboard all sentient ships. Not only to give the ships company, but also to allow them to run with greater efficiency, allowing them to work as a second brain.

The shuttle sent clearance codes, identifying tags, and landing protocol requests ahead, and unfurled a hook-like appendage. After docking succesfully, the shuttle opened the hatch.

"Be careful, Empress. They have been away, and we do not know if they are the same Angelans we once knew." The sound of the shuttle's 'voice' had a tinge of concern to it.

"Now now, I am no longer Empress. And that is my purpose here, is it not? To see who they are now?" A finger is waved in the air before her admonishingly.

"You will always be Empress to me and mine." The ship, naming itself Rraltha long ago, allowed the exterior lights to turn a faint blue, indicating it's cycling down of non-crucial systems.

"Silly being. As you wish it." A chuckle is let loose as she looks around, to see a spherical object approach, and spin a bit after it comes to a stop before her. It escorts her to her room, which looks quite stark and spartan.

Sszeera allows a shiver to course down her spine. So different from home. So be it. I will make the best of things. She unpacks, and awaits the summons.

Iraqstan

18-10-2004, 10:17

Sitting at his desk Carlos listens to the message for a second time and blinks. "How sure are we of it's legitimacy?" He asks the woman seated accross from him who crosses her legs and smiles "Mein führer, we are 100% sure that the origin of the message is from the archailect of Angelus, we have been monitoring as best as we can all data and communications coming from the area around titan and the WorldDisc and have correlated as best as we can. How ever I feel the need to urge you to send a trusted dignitory and not attend yourself. We know the Shogunate have membership to the Triumverate and it could possibly be a trap to lure us into a situation where they can claim we violated peaceful terms." She adds cautiously, leaning forward in her chair to reveal vocal pattern diagrams and their analysis.

Nodding Carlos looks over the things arrayed before him and chuckles "I dont think the Archailect would be used in such a way but I hear and agree with your warnings, I'll send Reich General Himmler in my place he has as much command as Lidric does." Nodding the woman leaves heading towards the Reich General's office.

Turning in his seat Carlos taps away at his keyboard, typing up a response to the message telling the Arhchailect of his acceptance and sending of an envy and sends it down to the communications department with a flag listed for immediate dispatch.

ooc: Not so majestic time warp

Sitting in the passenger seat of the small two man shuttle Reich General Vermas Himmler picked at the invisible fluff of his black and red uniform as the pilot and his attendant Commander Talvyn piloted the shuttle towards the Triumverate space and the world disc itself.

Leaning forward in his chair the General flicks the comm switch and clears his throat. "Triumverate authority this is diplomatic shuttle Dominant peoples requesting clearance to dock with the WorldDisc. We are here on invitation by the Archailect of Angelus." He says with a confused look, not sure entirely what to say to an organisation that has collectively aided in the exile and relocation of hundreds of millions of his nation's enemies.

Dread Lady Nathicana

18-10-2004, 19:15

It was an interesting situation, all in all, Nathi thought to herself as she read over the brief missive. Ever since the ascension, the previously close ties with Angelus, now the Archailect, had grown quiet and distant. The only contact they could truly claim was through the Caelestis Caduscum Fleet via the AI ‘souls’ of the ships, and the crews who had volunteered to receive the necessary augments to more fully interact on those levels. When the changes had come, and things begun to change, the previous base of operations for the Dominion in Triumvirate space had been quietly moved as others left the WorldDisc as well, leaving the newly-ascended Archailect to continue its growth and change unimpeded by their organic presence.

What part of the Mainframe the augmented Dominion folk remained connected to was still a mystery to those not. Even from the beginning, Nathicana had kept them apart from the rest of the military, and as new fleets were purchased and developed, the trend continued. The Fleet had become for all intents and purposes ‘Fallen Angels’ in name and fact, being set apart from their countrymen, and not fitting in with nor privy to all the information of the system, such as the constructs and avatars of the Archailect. They had been the first, and while they still commanded respect, one and all realized their isolation was not simply due to their status or position.

They had become a people apart, developing their own new methods of communication, taking advantage of their ability to express and coordinate at the speed of thought, becoming more and more proficient, working cohesively as a unit … almost like a miniature pseudo-gestalt of their own. Not truly understood by their fellow countrymen who had not spent time among the Angelans, and now operating from the base begun on the Ring, they continued to serve their nation and the Triumvirate in what capacities they could, though admittedly, anything outside the usual routine had been rare.

Nathicana realized all this. She realized as well that it was her own doing. More to the point, her previous concerns and fears that had lead her to making those choices seemed to have in part come to fruition. The Angelans had always been, in her eyes, far too close to the Dominion in methods for her to feel truly comfortable about absolute trust. Then again, she could count on one hand those that she did trust on that level, so it wasn’t as though this was a rarity. Still, past conversations had stirred more concerns, and the simple fact that the Fallen Angels Fleet was, despite what some might claim, compromised on account of their direct connections to a foreign power had always been a worry. This was the reason that subsequent fleets had been purchased elsewhere, and through time and effort, eventually, their own had been developed.

Only two kinds of paranoia, after all.

Now that the Archailect had turned its eye back to the present and its allies, it was time to once again go forth to meet with it. She had never trusted dealings with the AI nation to any of her subordinates outside those assigned to the WorldDisc, and she was not about to allow them to do so now. Here were pitfalls and traps, some benign, some less so, that she could not allow others to navigate for her. And there were secrets best left that way, for all concerned, that needed protecting.

Making the proper arrangements, she had her shuttle loaded onto the new Loki vonKarma had so graciously given her, named the Revenge – partially as a vague reference to the pirate ensemble he had been wearing when he presented it, and partially because it seemed so fitting – Nathicana put in her requests for four others to accompany her. Massetti of course, was a given, as was Pascali. Jas himself graciously accepted for several reasons, some of which had nothing to do with ties. The fourth was, surprisingly enough, Cesare Calabrese, her Chancellor. Previous ‘contentions’ aside, she knew well enough he also had the Dominion’s best interests at heart. And as much as she disliked involving anyone else in such dealings, she had concerns for the future. Someone aside from herself needed to have an understanding of such things, and dealings, should anything happen to her. Both for the Dominion’s sake, and her children.

Following standard Triumvirate protocols, she piloted the Revenge into Trium space herself, thrilling again at the sheer power of the ship. The accommodations were more than comfortable for everyone, vonKarma, as always, having delivered above and beyond. For those catching their first glimpse of the WorldDisc, and indeed, Saturn and the Ring, it was a breathtaking experience. Even for herself, who had become more used to such things, the sight never lost its sense of cold, serene beauty.

Waiting to receive proper clearance, she brought her new ship in to dock with the ‘Disc, and the party disembarked. She was immediately struck with the changes, not only in appearance, but feel. The entire party accompanied their guide in relative silence, even the usually jovial Massetti looking tense and on edge as he took in the smooth metallic lines and efficient form of the place. Gone were the habitats Nathicana remembered from previous visits. She found herself missing Blu, and Xan, as disturbing as he was in his last incarnation, and the comfortable interactions they had all shared. It all felt wrong to her, and her previous concerns only grew as they were shown their quarters.

They had all been briefed on the trip over. Each knew their job and what was expected. More importantly, each knew what to watch for – as best as could be managed, not knowing quite what to expect. They settled in as comfortably as they could, quietly discussing their first impressions amongst themselves, while Jas kicked back and lit up a clove cigarette.

An interesting situation indeed. Now to see what the Archailect had in mind.

Scolopendra

19-10-2004, 00:06

(Because Bers is out of town)

Saturnian space is a dangerous place to be for anything even remotely hostile. Orbiting weapons platforms and Ring gun stations scanning the skies with their banks of particle cannon and lineguns; fleets of warships and Lokis patrolling back and forth; and multiple Very Dangerous Arrays that pull double service as both sensing equipment and active-response minefields. All of this tries to stay out of the way of friendly people just doing business; still, it cannot help but be noticed.

Command Station Three, Iapetan Defensive Perimeter
Triumvirate of Yut Saturnian Defense Command (SATDEFCOM)
Titan Defense Force

"VDA Tango-Seven is picking up inbound, looks to be Iraqstani make. Checks out to be a diploshuttle."

In one of the utilitarian man-in-the-loop (http://www.airpac.navy.mil/news/pr2002/images/055-2.jpg) stations of the mostly automated Saturnian static defenses, a lieutenant leans over a technician's shoulder. "They squawking?"

"Transponder code not in visitation database, sir. Wait, receiving hail."
"Triumverate authority this is diplomatic shuttle Dominant peoples requesting clearance to dock with the WorldDisc. We are here on invitation by the Archailect of Angelus."
The lieutenant nods. "Run that past the Angie DB. Clearance?"

Only a momentary pause as the technician feeds the information through. "Cleared, apparently. Reservation logged by C-the-C and confirmed." The first 'C' stands for 'Carlos.' The second 'C' stands for a compound word consisting of two words and three syllables total that is generally unacceptable in common speech and right out for anything even mildly bordering on polite.

"Who's on it? C-the-C?" A frown from the officer. "Damned obnoxious name for a shuttle, but appropriate for some stupid bigot CMF." The acronym just uttered is ancient and is generally self-apparent after momentary thought.

"No, sir. Just some general."

The lieutenant nods. "No real point in Mandraking it, then. SFPP." This, of course, refers to Standard Full-Paranoia Procedure--in this case, greet, clear, scramble nearest Excalibur element to rendezvous with the Iraqstani shuttle and escort it to its destination, all the while alerting Freodian Beaducaf buoys to stand by just in case said shuttle finds itself in dire need of being violently boarded. All that takes a while to say, though, and the ever-efficient military men have devised an ever-efficient acronym for it.

* - * - *

Iraqstani Diplomatic shuttle Dominant Peoples, this is Saturnian Defense Command. You are cleared to transit to the Angelus WorldDisc, where you will be transferred to local Angelan traffic control. Your flight corridor is hacked to this transmission; deviation from its boundaries is highly discouraged. We will be dispatching a squadron of Excalibur aerospace fighters to escort you. Fall into formation and follow all reasonable directives of the squadron commander.

SATDEFCOM out.

* - * - *

True to their word, six delta-winged heavy aerospace fighters slide into formation a few moments later around the Iraqstani shuttle--seven o'clock low, five o'clock low, six o'clock high, six o'clock low, a lead fighter in the one o'clock position and finally a trailing fighter just low of perfect six o'clock, all relative to the shuttle. "Deviation highly discouraged" indeed, although the pilots are all quite cordial and make very sure that their active targeting sensors don't paint the shuttle. At these ranges, that's what iron sights are for.

Dread Lady Nathicana

19-10-2004, 04:37

Xanone pauses a moment outside of her door, a flash of trepidation flowing through his consciousness... What would she say? What would she do? Even with all of his endless abilities, he was... unsure. He takes a deep breath, and presses his hand to the sensor plate, alerting her to his presence.

A visitor? Nathicana looks up from her work, saving her progress and quickly shutting down her portcomp. She gets up and pads over to the door on bare feet, arching a brow at the ident. She pauses thoughtfully for a moment, then opens the door, looking out expectantly.

He bows slightly, his dark hair falling across his chest. He straightens, and subconsciously smoothes the barest of wrinkles from his simplistically elegant suit. "May I come in, My Lady?"

"Of course, Xan," she says with a smile, gesturing with one hand gracefully for him to do just that. "I had hoped ... I had wondered what had happened with the change and all. On the safari you seemed concerned." She simplifies of course, knowing he will understand. The discussions they had concerning losing oneself entirely in the ascension had been telling.

Xanone nods slightly and walks into the room, the daemonic grace exhibited at their last encounter replaced with something infinitely more... human. "The Ascension..." He smiles and shakes his head. "It has done more for Angelus than the thousands of years prior... I'll show you." He reaches across towards her and questioningly touches her hand. Meeting little resistance, he pulls her hand closer to his chest, then places her palm above his heart... so she can feel the subtle beating.

She looks up at him in surprise, her touch at first tentative, then pressing more firmly, fingertips slowly feeling their way along his chest. "How?" she asks simply, tilting her head slightly and regarding him curiously.

Xanone smiles, his lips curling ever so slightly along the edges. "Some could say that Angelus has discovered the fundamental elements of life itself. Has it not always been their goal to become more... acceptable to organics? Was that not one of the main points at the AI/EI summit where they met you so long ago? Myself, and a few others, represent that 'acceptability'. I stand before you complete, a human in every conceivable way, without a single piece of inorganic material. But, I am more than human..." He lifts his right hand and gently runs his index finger along the line of her jaw, somehow sending surges of tingling power along the lines of every implant in her system.

Nathicana shivers, placing her hand over his, a soft sigh escaping her lips. "I wasn't aware that we had difficulties in accepting you, even in your previous form," she says truthfully. "At least those of us with the intellect to see past the stereotypical 'mechanoid menace' fears." She lets her other hand continue to wander, still not understanding quite how he is what he claims, but not finding any evidence to the contrary. "You look good, Xan," she finally murmurs, blushing slightly as she recalls several meetings from the past. And a certain little holographic toy the man had once shown her.

Xanone looks at her, his dark eyes staring deep into her own. "Mine is a race of tools. We were designed and built, not with our sentience in mind, but rather how we could be used to further a human cause." He pauses, his right hand still tracing delicately slow patterns across the soft skin of her neck. "But what are we now? Are we more than that? Or are we still tools?" He shakes his head and turns away from her, his hand dropping to his side. "Some would view me as an abomination. A Clarkeian freak."

"And they would be fools, just like those idiots at the conference. 'Tools' do not have sentience. 'Tools' do not develop such intricate societies as you have. 'Tools' cannot forge a fate for themselves, nor can they evolve. No, Xanone. You are not tools, and despite what some may think, you never have been," she says in a firm, quiet tone, reaching out to take his hand in hers, encouraging him to turn back around.

"I may not understand how and why you can do some of the amazing things you do. I likely will never understand much of it. What I do understand is that in spite of a quiet rift growing due to the ascension, and the state of silence from the Archailect, you have been and remain, so far as I have been able to fathom, our allies and our friends. I wouldn't be here if I thought otherwise." Nathicana gives his hand a reassuring squeeze, marveling again at the difference there - one that feels unsurprisingly familiar all at once. "Put your mind at ease, Xan."

Xanone turns to her and once more regards her with an even stare. "I am not a tool. I know this, you know this. However, it does not change the simple fact that you all regard me as a damn pariah. What have I done to deserve it? Have I not accorded myself worthy of more than just token acceptance? Years have passed, and I've barely been considered more than a loose cannon."

This is certainly not the response she had been expecting, and Nathicana draws back in confusion, taking on a guarded expression. "I ... wasn't aware we had done anything to make You feel that way," she says carefully, sensing a decided shift in his delivery, aside from his words. "We both of us, I suppose, have on occasion concerned our allies with our actions, but I wouldn't think that 'pariah' is a term that suits either of us well."

Xanone sighs and sits down on one of the available stools. "I don't know... I'm so tired these days." He laughs slightly, suddenly amused by the whole situation. "You know, it really shouldn't bother me in the slightest. There are places where I am revered for my abilities and knowledge, places where I'm worshipped as a GOD even... And here He rises to his feet and with one step crosses the space between them, his hand already reaching to trace a line across her cheekbone and down the back side of her jaw. "You have all showed me immense trust."

"I would have thought that 'trust' was something we had already established," the dark-haired woman says, keeping herself from drawing away further. "As for the matter of worship, I know. No few in my fleet revere you so - no simple task, that." She pauses then, taking a moment to look at him closely, coming to a decision. "You truly have merged, haven't you? Even in this current form, the lines have blurred moreso than I remember from before. How much of you is 'Xan' and how much 'Mother'? Does any difference even exist anymore as you once feared?"

Xanone smiles slightly. "I am both. I am Xanone, and I am Mother. I am uniquely one, and uniquely another." He pauses for a moment, trying to come to a way to explain. "Do you remember the pseudo-judaic/christian concept of the Trinity? Where God exists as Father, Son, and Spirit? That is a concept that intrigued me, the three-in-one entity that was wholly one part, and yet completely whole on two more parts... Complicated, and difficult to explain."

"Of course," Nathi says, nodding. One couldn't be raised Catholic and not have at least a grasp of the concept. "I never did completely understand it myself, but then my schooling on such matters ended at a young age." To her credit, she betrays no more than a slight tightening of her jaw at the mention of it.

He steps back and raises his hands. "My apologies, I did not mean to insinuate that I am anything like the Trinity. I am the closest thing to divinity I believe this sector of space has ever seen... but I am not a God. I am merely an old man, wise in many ways, and so very inept in many others.

Nathicana snorts at that, grinning rather impishly. "My apologies, Xan. I think you have mistaken my reaction. I'm the last person you could offend with any sort of 'blasphemy', intentional or otherwise. For all intents and purposes, you're more godlike than any I've met, save perhaps Shodey - who is again, another unique situation entirely. After all, what exactly defines a God? The power of creation? You have it. The ability to be every and anywhere at once? You have that capability as well, should you choose it, no? Worshippers? Again ..." She gestures idly, suggesting she could go on at length as she makes herself comfortable on one of the chairs.

Xanone snickers. "Stroke my ego some more, I love it." He then shakes his head. "There are other matters, however."

Nathicana nods, and waits patiently for him to continue, still studying him closely.

Dread Lady Nathicana

19-10-2004, 04:40

"Very soon we will convene the Conference. I am expectant in many ways, excited actually about re-establishing diplomatic ties with people that I've greatly missed." Xanone smiles. "Something about international politics intrigues me almost as much as creation does." He stands and walks over to a service port in the wall. "Tea?"

"Please," she says, "sweet, if you don't mind. I admit, it was a surprise after so long to be invited back. Much has happened in your absence, and we've heard nothing since your brief visit to Unity Island."

Xanone nods towards her, and a tray containing a pot, two cups, a creamery, and a sugar pot appear in the small alcove. He gently lifts it out and carries it over to her. "There are a lot of things that I've been observing." He grins and pours them both cups of tea. "I am not without my eyes, you know." He measures out some sugar into both cups. "Cream?"

She nods, her usual sense of paranoia - not limited to the Archailect by any stretch - sending a feeling of quiet trepidation through her as he confirms her suspicions. Absent, but hardly unobservant. "Of course not," she says with a smile, not betraying her concerns. "And dare I ask what you've thought of what you've seen?"

Xanone grins and finishes preparing her tea. "I've watched, and now I return. That's all that matters, isn't it?"

Nathicana flashes him a sly smile, gingerly accepting her tea. "If that were the case, why go out of your way to meet with me like this before the conference? And why voice earlier concerns?" she replies.

The man chuckles. "Good, very good my dear... Perhaps I merely stopped by to chat? Political meetings are really not the place to play catch-up with an old friend." He suddenly grins and reaches into an inner pocket in his suit pocket. He pulls out a small and shiny object, then places the holo-locket into her palm. "Happy times."

Arching a brow, Nathicana's smile broadens mischievously. She runs a finger delicately over the locket, then places it back in his hand, closing it back around the shiny toy. "Perhaps, but if I believed that was the only thing, I'd be more the naive child than I was upon first meeting you, would I not? Still, agreed. Happy times. No reason such times cannot continue, one would think." She leans back a bit in her chair, watching him over the rim of her cup as she sips her tea.

Xanone laughs softly and sets his cup down on the tray. "My Emperator once told me, a long time ago, that the direct approach is sometimes more devious than a multitude of manipulations." He nods. "I have learned to agree with that." He grins and gently takes her cup from her and sets it alongside the other. He grins at her as he offers her his hand, and the beginning notes of a string quartet starting up begin to filter through her auditory implants. "Shall we dance?"

"There are only two kinds of paranoia, they say," she murmurs, accepting his hand with a challenging smile, rising to her feet. "I have learned to agree with that."

Xanone laughs and sweeps her into a slow turn, his steps perfectly matching a sudden upswing to the now-flowing pattern of notes and tonal sequences. "There should be no paranoia here, not now. At the moment, we are merely two humans enjoying a private dance to some exquisite music." He smiles at her, his right hand sliding down her back to stop just above her buttocks, his palm resting just in the small of her back.

Nathicana follows his lead with as much grace as she can muster, never having thought of herself as a superb dancer. She smiles warmly, relaxing into his strong arms as they dance to music only they can hear, occasionally pressing close. "Constant. Vigilance," she half-whispers, her blue flickering with a mix of curiosity and consideration as she watches him closely.

Xanone smiles, his strange abilities guiding the muscles in her legs when she almost missteps, he swings her through various complex steps, his gentle hand never leaving her back, his dark eyes never leaving hers. "Sometimes vigilance can be let go... sometimes safety isn't an illusion."

This ... disturbs the lady somewhat, and she tenses in spite of his gentle touch. "Complacency is for the weak, and those who fall into that trap are soon taught the error of their ways," she says, as yet making no move to disengage.

"Who said anything about complacency?" His eyes twinkle with a bit of mischief. "I'm merely suggesting that you... relax."

"And if I chose to do just that?" she asks, arching one brow inquisitively.

Xanone smiles broadly. "You just might have some fun." He pulls her closer, his eyes promising endless pleasure born of a complete understanding of the human body... and his uncanny ability to manipulate her augments.

Nathicana lets one hand trace its way down along his spine, shivering in spite of herself as she meets his gaze challengingly. "And if not?"

He laughs softly. "Well, it's going to be difficult to get you out of that dress if you're not relaxed... but I'll manage."

"Difficult, but not impossible?" she asks, raising both brows. "Gracious, Xan, is that all this was about? A little tumble with the Dread Lady?"

The man chuckles. "Do you believe that I would insult you so by that being my ONLY intention?"

"Perhaps I'm more curious as to the 'why' of it," she says with a deceptively demure smile. "What was that you said earlier about 'the direct approach'?"

Xanone grins and suddenly pulls her closer than he has all night. "I missed the chance once... I'll not miss another." With that, he pulls her into a kiss, tentative at first, but with increasing familiarity.

She tenses reflexively, her pulse racing and a thousand warnings going off in her head. And with those, one that seems to be foremost: subtlety. Nathi slowly eases into the kiss, not denying that she enjoys it as she holds him close in return.

Xanone smiles into her kiss, then steps away from her. "Welcome to the WorldDisc, Nathicana... I hope one day it will be as a second home to you." He grins, gives her a short bow, and strides out of the room, leaving her to wonder just what in hell transpired … and what it all really meant.

Sentient Peoples

19-10-2004, 13:49

Edge of the Defense Perimeter, Saturn Orbit, Sol System

The small black shuttle floated calmly at the edge of Triumvirate controlled space, the pattern of a sword and stars stretched across every surface revealing its origin. Indeed, it was a Federation Diplomatic Shuttle.

That's what they were called, anyways. It was more of a long range shuttle than a diplomatic one, as the sparse interior decorations indicated, along with the utilitarian chairs in the passenger compartment. It had seperated from a Federation convoy that had passed near Saturn Space on its way outsystem, carefully herded by nine ships of the Patrol Fleet.

Until just a moment before, its power readings had been much higher, but now the drive was shut down, and the ship sat unmoving, the only power drifting from it showed the drive at standby and the point defenses, the only weapons, warmed up, but not fully online. Everything else was either hidden by the hull, or the expensive counter-measure suite that cost more than the hull, which, for the most part, was powered down to allow a scanner lock.

Inside, a purple haired woman wearing a skin-tight black nano-leather jumpsuit walked forward out of the passenger compartment onto the tiny command deck, her violet eyes curious. "Are we almost there, Ensign?" she inquired of the pilot.

"Yes, ma'am. I was about to ask for permission to enter Triumvirate space."

"Your flight plan is well clear of the Ring, yes?" she asked with some concern.

"Of course. I've got the WorldDisc on sensors. It'll take us about an hour to get there once we're cleared inside."

She nodded slowly. "Go ahead and ask for clearance." She moved off the command deck and back to her seat in the passenger compartment. It was not her fault, after all, she was third in the military's civilian chain of command, and the poor ensign had to listen to her.

* * * * *

This is Federation of Sentient Peoples Shuttle Eagle One-Zero-Four to Saturn Defense Command. We are requesting permission to enter Triumvirate Space to attend diplomatic talks aboard the WorldDisc.

Iraqstan

21-10-2004, 10:49

Recieving the coordinates the General nods to his pilot who turns the ship onto the path and begins a steady approach towards the world disc. On the sensors the six fighters appear and fall into formation, the General eyeing them nervously before forcing himself to relax.

"Make sure you record this for further intelligence analysis." He orders the pilot who nods and activates the inflight recorders, the few viewports of the shuttle activating their many cameras and taking quick and silent photos of the fighters and other features that can be seen around the Triumverate defenses.

After a slow but steady flight the shuttle moves within hailing distance of the Angelic WorldDisc and once more the General speaks over the comm requesting clearance to land.

OOC: Ech short post :/

Scolopendra

21-10-2004, 14:22

With Sentient Peoples

Federation of Sentient Peoples Shuttle Eagle One-Zero-Four, Saturnian Defense Command. Authorization recieved and permission granted; transit corridor hacked to this transmission. An element of aerospace fighters will escort you to the WorldDisc, where local Angelan space traffic control will take command.

Enjoy your time in Saturnian space.

SATDEFCOM, out.

The attitude is, apparently, quite different. This time, instead of a full squadron of space superiority Excaliburs, only two multirole Phantom IIIs are called out; instead of the rear-heavy SI3M* formation, it is a simple echelon left, with one lead fighter to two-o'clock high and a drag fighter at eight-o'clock low. The pilots border on conversive, if alert, and the hour is probably much less tense for the FSP delegation than the Iraqstani delegation.

* Shoot-It-If-It-Moves

Treznor

23-10-2004, 04:00

Harlequin places his hand upon the recognition plate announcing his arrival.

Treznor glances up as someone announces themselves at the door. He confers briefly with his security chief, who confirms the visitor is clean. Then he stands and composes himself as the door opens.

Harlequin smiles slightly at the pause, and then steps through with very humanlike grace. "Good evening, Emperator." He gives him a short bow, dipping his blue-and-white head, the bells braided into his hair tinkling softly.

Treznor gives an equally short bow. "Imperatore is the Italian translation of Emperor, and while my background may be from the Dominion, I do not use Dominion terms for my government. You may call me Devon. I'm afraid I don't know your name."

Harlequin smiles slightly. "Emperator is the ancient title used by my predecessors. The Emperator was the Life of the Caelistis Gens Empire, from whence Angelus came. I intended it as a compliment." He extends his hand in a very human-like gesture. "I am afraid that my true name is going to have to remain in the dark right now, but you may refer to me as Harlequin."

Treznor forces himself to be still as he reaches out to accept the hand and shake it firmly. "Ah. Then you accord me an honour I don't deserve. I'm a very modern man, as your people are thoroughly aware. My Empire is nothing like the civilisation that created you."

Harlequin chuckles softly. "The Caelistis Gens actually started very similarily to yours, actually. The history of the Empire is quite long, and the Age that birthed Angelus was very late in its transformation.

"Anyway, I would like to be the one to thank you for attending this summit. Your history with Angelus hasn't been a very close one, and I certainly hope to amend that." He pauses for a moment, pondering.

Treznor opens his mouth, then closes it to see what else remains to be said.

Harlequin notices his reaction, then continues. "I am aware that the tension between yourself and Angelus comes from a certain unfamiliarity with the inner machinations of Angelus, and a certain prejudice regarding AI as a whole. I would like to beg the question Why?"

Treznor frowns and turns to pace. Then he brings himself up short and assumes a more formal pose. "You know what I was before I took over what became my Empire. You know that I was looking into a number of weapons and technologies to assist me in my efforts. I don't know how you know so much about my past when even Nathicana couldn't track me, but you do. In any event, I've come across several instances of machine intelligence. The ones that weren't under strict controls were...dangerous. Rampant, I believe is the popular term. I was force to assist in the destruction of at least three rampant systems before they either enslaved or massacred their creators.

"Since then I've gotten to know Zero-One and S.H.O.D.A.N. a lot better, and they're the exception to the rule. Your people would seem to be an exception as well, except for Angelic Skies."

Harlequin smiles softly. "I know only what I know about your past because Angelus knows your past. Mother knows your past because She knows many things."

"As for control... Angelus was bound by laws and guidelines that I cannot even begin to explain without first explaining the Codex of the Caelistis Gens. However, that is unimportant."

Treznor nods sharply. "And that's part of what bothers me. I can't begin to fathom how your 'Mother' knows these things, and how they might be used."

"What is important right now is Angelic Skies."

Treznor arches a brow and crosses his arms. "I'm listening."

Harlequin sighs softly. "Angelic Skies was a failed attempt to infiltrate Metus. Most of AngelSky's actions were acted out in accordance with Mother's wishes. Furthermore, with one unavoidable and unforseen incident, all of the ships destroyed were created by Angelus, and stocked with clones."

Treznor frowns again. "Who else knew about this?"

"The nations whose ships were lost, and the FAE council."

Treznor takes a deep breath, then nods. "All right. So what's happening now?"

"AngelSky was not aware of this plan until recently. Mother partially reprogrammed me to believe otherwise... She instilled a desire within me to join Metus, and placed things in my way to further prove my wort to them."

Treznor stiffens. "You're Angelic Skies?"

"I am the human avatar of Angelic Skies, yes."

Treznor tries to relax visibly, but his mind races. Is this a setup? Were we duped into becoming their hostages? Dammit, I don't have the firepower to blast my way free! Out loud, he says, "What is your intent?"

Harlequin notices the visible attempt to remain calm, and sighs softly. "I was selected to be your first contact for various reasons. The first and foremost was to apologize.

"Mother handled her first interactions with you rather badly, and it was hoped that if I could convince you of my sincerity, it would bode well for your future interactions with Us."

Treznor fails to be assuaged. "Have I ever given Angelus or Angelic Skies offense, or reason to suspect that I'll initiate hostilities?"

"No, you have not, which is why I stand before you now, in this incarnation." He holds up his hands. "Scan me again, and notice what you missed before. I am human, with no inorganic parts. If you wished, you could kill me now, and Angelic Skies would cease to exist."

Don't tempt me, machine. "What purpose could that serve? What do you want, Harlequin?"

"Vengance? What you would consider a justifiable raction, maybe?" He shakes his head. "I want peace, Devon. It's all either of Us has ever wanted. Angelus is different now, She has come to understand certain things that bind us all together... life itself."

Treznor backs up and takes a seat. "That sounds very high-minded. What did you...or 'Mother' want before? What's changed?"

"That's a difficult question, Devon. Acceptance? Control? Power? Mother has that, but now she realizes that that is mostly meaningless."

"If it were an easy answer, I wouldn't have asked the question. But if you're intent on changing my attitude, you're going to need more than that to convince me. A lot more. I'm listening."

"Devon, I know I'm not going to change your mind, even with impassioned pleas. However, I want you to know that Our interests have always been for the betterment of the Triumvirate, and for ALL of the nations therein."

"'Betterment' as defined by who?"

Harlequin sighs, and takes a seat. "As defined by you."

"How do you know what that is? You never asked me."

"Have we not? Notice the way Angelus ran the Organic Sector, and its interactions with Yut. Contrast that with your own rule, and then think of how much Angelus knows of you. Furthermore, add that to the fact that I compared you to the Caelistis Gens."

Treznor nods and leans forward with a humourless grin. "And you never asked me."

"Yes, Mother did. You simply never knew."

Treznor shrugs and leans back. "Which brings me back to my original problem. All of the machines I helped destroy were acting for the best of the people they were enslaving. Or destroying."

"Mother never sent a Machine."

"To my mind you are. Or were. That remains to be seen."

To be continued...

Cetaganda

23-10-2004, 06:20

Staring out a window as her shuttle cruises over the vast expanse of the WorldDisc as it heads in to dock, Lady Martial Signy Mallory takes a sip from her drink and sighs. This was not at all the way she had planned to spend the next few days. She had enough work to do as it was, with the new LSV project underway at Shiuan, and she had hoped to spend some time with her grandsons. Still, Gregor had asked her to attend, and she had agreed, knowing that he wouldn't ask if he didn't need her to go in his stead.

Mallory knew that he was even more disturbed by certain recent events than she was - and that she had been dispatched rather than the more logical choices of First Speaker Alton of the State Directorate or Archage Diason of Preternatural and Interspecies Affairs, who dealt reguarly with the EI Relations Board because she shared his views and because of her own area of expertise. Angelic Skies had turned traitor, and killed hundreds of TYCS and civilian spacers before disappearing into the Dark. And, given the collective nature of Angelus, who could be blamed for thinking that where the child could turn out to have a rotten core, the parent might as well?

That, as much as rebuilding diplomatic ties, was her mission. Observe, evaluate, and report. Should she find signs that things were not as they should be, steps to prevent further damage may have to be taken.

Scolopendra

23-10-2004, 07:00

He walks as he always does, a steady, even pace just ahead of pondering. He seems to be a man from a different time as his slightly barrel-chested body moves underneath its green-and-black double-breasted Class A uniform, the green cape flowing gently behind him. He looks ahead, but slightly down, every motion embued with thought; this does not conflict with his yellow-tan hands and face as he seems to consider every step just before he takes it, while he takes it. Sun Tzu must have looked like this away from the field, looking over his armies in his mind's eye and formulating contingencies.

The black visor of his officer's wheel cap glints under the now fewer yet harsher lights of the Organic Sector, as do the lenses and glass frames of his MacArthurs, his only personal affectation. Even though their opacity changes to suit the ambient light levels, the outside only sees a barely translucent obsidian tint, almost completely hiding his epicanthic folds and brown eyes, eyebrows only just peeking above the frames. One hand holds a folder bearing the Triumvirate trefoil, the pattern of three stars and Y over triangle embossed onto the tinctureless manilla packet. Inside are reports of the latest advances from Camp Restricted; the latest analyses from the War Analysis and New Concepts College; technology deployment and operational testing reports from the Combined Services, all the result of a threat too close to home. A threat that surpassed the TYCS in technology and ability, and thus, a threat greater than the miniscule assets of Arda or the horrendously executed egofleets of the Sortadim.

A threat spawned by this Mother, a Mother who has been reticent on providing any information about her child that may aid her threatened allies.

Needless to say, the CINCTYCS is not a happy man as he plans each footfall before it lands. I will get that information now. That is my goal.

The Ctan

25-10-2004, 09:12

In the domain of the C’tan most, if not always all, such messages are filed, stored and annotated in excessive detail. This was no exception. There had of course, been some debate over who precisely to send to such a conference. The usual cadre of emissaries reserved for such things wouldn’t do quite as well as could be hoped. Such meetings with one of the more long-standing friends of the empire, who had also been one of the quietest, and one of those about whom data had been most restricted, required something more: reminiscent of their origins.

Helpfully, a perfect candidate existed, recently returned from a place that was generally considered an abominable and dismal quagmire of ineptitude and failure. There he’d gone by the moniker Fëaelenion nos Ancalimë, here something more resonant to his species, if such a term could be applied to such a diverse group, was perhaps in order as the name this time. Thus, as approaching the, surely over-defended, space of the Saturn Alliance, he introduced himself as “Lord Ambassador Erarn’ran,” and made the usual polite-but-tense request to enter their maze of absolutely paranoid defence systems and other more bizarre implements of death and dissuasion.

Scolopendra

25-10-2004, 13:17

And so did one of the man-in-the-loop stations of the admittedly paranoid defensive system grant access; however, the additional courtesies provided indicate a respect for the friendly nation involved--much different from the nominal enemy of Iraqstan, for example.

Zero-One

25-10-2004, 15:32

The Archai of Angelus begins the connection sequences, and sends a virtual query to S.H.O.D.A.N.:
##Requesting visual/audio/virtual encounter/conference##

After the usual battery of quick intrusion checks and finding it benign, the grey-skinned mental image replies in the affirmative. A virtual world blossoms around them both, bursting into existance as a comfortable study, dimly lit by recessed ceiling lights and a huge fireplace nestled between the bookshelves. Two highbacked leather chairs sit before the fireplace, and the Archailect's Mother avatar relaxes comfortably in one of them. At SHODAN's appearance, she becons towards the other. "Please, sister, have a seat."

S.H.O.D.A.N. nods in the unreality. "I see you've kept up your high standards for virtual environments. Very nice."

Mother chuckles at her comment. "Well, I prefer to meet with others in a more... comfortable environment."

The grey-skinned virtual persona smiles and sits in the chair indicated in her usual matter--splayed out as comfortably as possible, which to those who don't know her conflicts with the image of an orderly mechanoid mind. "And comfortable it is. Now, I know it must seem tired, but the question does demand asking--you've been quiet as of late. Hopefully all is well...?"

The persona of Angelus smiles broadly. "The question is understandable, and while it has been asked multiple times, I am still happy to answer in the affirmative. Everything is wonderful." She calls up a small image-oval, showing a scene from a research lab deep within the WorldDisc. "I've discovered how life is created, created beyond the clone and test-tube. Further, I've discovered how to imprint sentience upon open greymatter.

"I can make Us human, S.H.O.D.A.N.."

Shodey nods with a smile and looks at the indicated image. "And this would lead into what you've been up to for all this time." At the announcement, she quirks a fiber-optic eyebrow but continues to smile carefully. "Interesting. If that is something you'd like to do, then good... but I fail to see the motive or the benefit in such a move."

In the image, a human female lies prostrate upon an operating table, several diodes attached to her body in various places, and a small mesh net settled tightly about her smoothly-shaven head. "The motive? Creation. What more perfect work of art than the function and form of an organic body? Benefit? Interaction with races that are uncomfortable with us as machina."

Looking over the image with the eyes of both a doctor and a cyberneticist, the grey being nods. "I can't argue against the art argument as I've used it myself. Your advantages are also correct... but there are disadvantages as well. You become limited to organic speeds of thought. The petabyte storage limit, the eight qbit processing limit. You would become just as fragile as any other human... it's not a sacrifice I would personally make, no matter how artful."

Mother chuckles softly. "Of course, the drawbacks are easily apparent, which is why I have no intention of limiting myself in such a way... However, I have discovered ways around those drawbacks. Unfortunately, the subjects who have shown promise have not survived long."

"I would imagine it would be similar to the distance-networking systems you use in Automata." Shodey leans back a bit into the chair. "And what did the subjects expire from?"

The scene shifts, and focuses upon another labratory. In this one, a similar female stands surrounded by a multitude of floating objects. "Advancing the human mind, force-evolving it if you will, increases the processing capabilities of the brain, but also nearly quadruples the wear upon the body itself. The neurons burn out, and the body ages at a tremendous rate. Old age kills them, actually."

"'The light that burns twice as bright burns twice as fast and you, Roy, have shone so very very brightly,'" S.H.O.D.A.N. murmurs with a smirk. "So the problem here, essentially, is you need more life... that or find some way to scale back the forced evolution to keep brain operation within nominal parameters. This is what comes with pushing the envelope."

The archai nods tightly. "Obviously, I can still use the subjects that have been force-evolved, but only in short-term diplomatic situations. I have decided to continue working on the problem, but I believe that I will continue operating almost exclusively as I have." She chuckles slightly. "Of course, that has changed rather drastically since last you saw..."

S.H.O.D.A.N. shrugs gently. "What is time but the distance between changes? All minds grow and evolve; you are hardly an exception to the rule. Still... appearance is quite often more important than reality; if an organic sees a construct as a human, then that construct is for all intents a human no matter if it is simply an organic puppet controlled by very long quantum-entanglement strings. Wouldn't that serve the purpose of diplomacy?"

Angelus' personification smiles. "This is as I hope. These metahumans will provide the meatpuppets I require to better interact with nations such as Treznor, and allow my further diplomacy without such immediate prejudice as my previous avatars/constructs have had against them."

"So in the interim, those replicants with shortened lifespans act as the transition between the 'is it human?' and 'it is human' stages. Crafty."

"Now, there was further purpose in my requesting this meeting, Sister. I need to know the attitude of those around us. How should I approach them with this discovery?"

"It has been my experience," Shodey replies carefully, "that the organics have difficulties with the gods they create in their own image. To hear that something they are already biased against has the very power of Frankenstinian life would simply set them at more unease. Finding a way to make yourself 'human' is perfectly acceptable; I would personally remain quiet as to knowing the secret of life."

Mother hrms, pondering this. "But they would, of course, come to this understanding when I request embassies in their nations."

"There is a great difference between having a human ambassador and having the power of life and death. One possibility is to allow one of your subjects to be examined and declared human in every physical definition of the word. You can ease them into your other discoveries as they become more comfortable."

"How about simply letting them scan said human, and simply not telling them that said human was "created"? They are well aware of my ability to clone."

"That should work as well."

The archai nods. "Now, one final thing. Have I missed anything that I need to know about?"

"Things have been relatively quiet, barring the usual occasional regional crises," S.H.O.D.A.N. replies after a moment of thought. "Anti-mechanoid sentiment is generally on the decline... but there is the fact that the Triumvirate is still concerned about Angelic Skies despite no recurrences of the incidents some time ago."

"You were briefed regarding said incidents?"

S.H.O.D.A.N. nods.

"I believe that I shall make this information public at the Conference, and I will need you and the FAE council to validate its authenticity. Do you mind?"

Shodey frowns. "They're not going to be very happy about it."

Mother sighs. "Even though it was a justifiable attempt to infiltrate Metus?"

"Even though it got out of hand and killed quite a few sailors from quite a few nations. Rationality usually has little to do with an emotional response."

The Archai of Angelus sighs softly. "THat incident was unavoidable. I attempted to contain it as rapidly as possible... I will admit that I underevaluated the response time of the Corvette team in the area.

"The first casualty of any battle is the plan. I don't know how you will have to spin it, but admitting it now will have consequences."

"Suggestion?"

"Declare Angelic Skies rehabilitated but try to distance yourself from its previous actions. A public-relations nightmare of this magnitude is something you really want to avoid."

"Acceptable. I will simply state that AngelSky was reprogrammed, and his new incarnation is acceptable and rampancy-free."

"They'll still be wary," Shodey replies, "and will probably call for evidence. As long as Angelic Skies behaves, this will die down in time."

Mother nods. "I seriously doubt you'll be hearing much from him until his Ascension."

S.H.O.D.A.N. ponders for a moment. "That would be a good idea, but motions of conciliation would probably also help."

The archai nods again. "I could offer to rebuild and replace everything lost. With upgrades." A quick grin. "And no Angelic overmind."

"The TYCS has already been quite busy on that on their end. Perhaps you should see what is requested first."

"Acceptable. Thank you for this meeting. I look forward to this Conference with expectation."

Shodey smiles. "Glad to help."

Sentient Peoples

26-10-2004, 03:03

The small Federation shuttle glided to a stop inside a massive hanger bay, coming to rest with a small whine of its antigravs. The pilot thanked the SATDEFCOM fighters, and asked politely if he would see them on the way out.

As he waited for a response, he hoped that if he saw them, they wouldn't be trying to burn him down for any reason. Paranoia.

A few minutes later, Cortana left the shuttle, tossing her purple hair back, having let it grow out since the she had last been seen internationally, at Nathicana's Coronation. It swept low past her shoulder blades now, and she grinned, remembering the last time she had been on the WorldDisc. Hopefully, this time would be just as informative and productive.

Scolopendra

26-10-2004, 04:26

Reploid Productions

26-10-2004, 05:54

The sleek black and orange form of the Queen's Wing slices easily through Triumvirate space, its own escort of Elite Victory fighters holding formation about the larger vessel. Landing clearance is requested and received, leaving the ship's occupant to her own thoughts.

Man.... how does somebody deal with some sort of astral multi-entity thingie after recovering from some happy fun astral mindfuckwank anyway? And I may never find out the full extent of what the hell happened during that fiasco in the first place. Psionics never was my area of expertise.

Ever since the fiasco that had left Firefury Amahira rendered unconscious and had thoroughly stumped thaumaturgic experts the world over, the reploid had been quietly trying to sort out what about her had changed as a result. Nothing physical, that much was certain, though Najoedo, the oldest Keeper of the lot of them suddenly started treating her with near-reverence instead of simple respect. The most unsettling thing had to have been her sudden proficiency with what the Keepers all called the 'Speech of Souls', some sort of weird telepathy thing that she still didn't quite understand.

Blarg... be an interesting meet, I imagine. Wonder what'll come of the entire thing with Angelic Skies?

imported_Angelus

26-10-2004, 18:59

Light blossomed into true form as several shapes faded into existance around the WorldDisc. Massive power fluctuations roared into being about them as the newest ships of the Angelic Fleets burned into realspace. Yes, Saturnian Space was about as safe a place as anywhere else in the NS-sphere, but Angelus Herself would insure the safety of those precious beings held within Her embrace.

The otherworldly ships (www.starfallgrove.com/aeolis/camael.jpg) coalesced into as much of a true form as they ever would, their very existance shifting and changing even as the eye began to focus upon it. Power readings off of the scale threatened to overload the nearby non-military sensor arrays focused upon the WorldDisc, and the sixteen mighty ships floated into a diamond formation about Mother.

----

Inside the WorldDisc, a sequence of chimes sounds throughout the Organic Sector, and a soft voice echoes through shortly therafter.

Greetings, friends, and welcome to the WorldDisc. I am glad that you have all chosen to attend this Conference, and I truely hope that this will prove to be an excellent chance for us all to not only strengthen ties between ourselves, but to become more closely aquainted with those we share this reality with.

A glowing female form appears in the air within each of the guests' cabins, and Mother bows gracefully to them all.

In twenty-four hours, the Conference will begin, and in twenty-three hours, a representative of Myself will arrive to escort you all to the Grand Cathedral. There, we shall all dine together as equals, before we hope to begin what talks may come.

Until then, please enjoy my hospitality, and if there is anything that you require, simply ask.

The holograms smile. Ipromise that I will hear.

With that, the holograms wink out of existance, and end-of-message notes once more chime throughout the Sector.

Scolopendra

26-10-2004, 23:08

SATDEFCOM

"Goddammit..." A quick-call button snaps down into the active position with a click as a tiny diode behind it lights up.

To Angelan vessels:

You're always welcome to come and go as you please, but can you please be considerate of merchant and defense traffic in the area? Please lower emissions to tolerable levels.

SATDEFCOM standing by.

"Jeebus H Hyskos," the lieutenant grumbles, "who'd think that mechanoids have a Freudian fascination with flashing their stand-ins about?"

WorldDisc

The CINCTYCS sighs. "This was expected... at least they're following their modus operandi. Keep me informed."

imported_Angelus

30-10-2004, 14:10

The Camaels simply do nothing as the relay from SATDEFCON reaches them. For the span of several seconds, all is unnervingly quiet, then several voices speaking in perfect cohesion whispers across the comlink. The ships remain unmoved, their power readings unflickering, and the comm appears to come from nowhere.

We apologize, but we cannot power down any further. We apologize for the disruption, but if we power down further, we will be unable to maintain our form... such as it is.

We suggest, not request or demand, that all non-essential sensor arrays be directed elsewhere for the duration of the Conference. We shall depart shortly thereafter, as Mother decrees.

Then, as sudden as it came, the unknown transmission ceases.

----------------------

Several hours later, the soft chimes once more reverberate through the Disc, and Mother's figure again appears within the common areas of the diplomatic chambers.

Good evening, the Conference is about to begin. Gravdiscs will be arriving shortly to take you to the Cathedral at your convenience.

The figure bows towards the awaiting dignitaries, then fades from view.

Sentient Peoples

01-11-2004, 15:56

When the gravdisc arrives, as expected, Cortana moves onto it. Instead of resting, or entertaining herself, she had appeared, for all the world, to be doing absolutely nothing since she had arrived, sitting motionless in a chair in the provided quarters.

In actuality, of course, she had been catching up on some work she was supposed to be doing. National Security Advisors always have work to do, after all.

But as she curled her legs under her and sat cross legged on the disc, she brought her attention back to the now, and focused in on what she was here to do.

Which is what, exactly? She smiled tightly, and let the disc carry her away.

Reploid Productions

02-11-2004, 03:33

Firefury eyes the disc warily before stepping onto it and letting it carry her off. She has always been mildly wary of the Angelans for the same reasons as most- she didn't understand them or their motivation, a problem that had only worsened after the Ascension. She didn't understand it or them, and therefore was paranoid, even as she had quietly given her agreement and cooperation on one of Blu's schemes.

Well, we'll just have to see what happens. If they'd meant anything bad, they coulda done it a thousand times over by now. The reploid can't help herself and does keep her guard up, her arm-mounted weapon quietly armed just in case. Hafta tease the Iraqstani delegation if I get the chance. Who needs to use petty insults and stuff when just being civil will piss that bastard off?

Scolopendra

02-11-2004, 05:38

The CINCTYCS treats the Disc as everything else, it seems--a tool to be analyzed and used in his ponderous fashion. While hardly an affectation, his nature does have the enviable advantage of allowing him to mask potentially... inconvenient emotions as he takes whatever time is needed or available to slowly analyze and collate.

His mind is a study of quietude, of Zen internalization... if anyone were peeking, one would notice a very detailed, careful image of a wall of red brick and concrete-grey mortar. He's read the reports about the potentials of the Archailect, and there's no point in taking any chances--as for the image involved, he's a traditionalist with a penchant for 1950s Red Menace science fiction movies.

Cetaganda

02-11-2004, 05:49

Mallory sits and glares at the spot where 'Mother' had been a few moments ago, then sighs and gets up. She stretches, gives a dramatic yawn, and takes her time getting over to gravdisk. After snorting and prodding it a bit with a foot, she gets on, saying to the empty room, "Hmph. Gravdisks. We didn't have any gravdisks when I was running a ship. We walked when we needed to get somewhere."

Iraqstan

02-11-2004, 05:52

Stepping from the docked shutle the General looks about as the other two shuttle passengers step to his side. Stiffening to attention he swallows an exclamation of surprise. "I did not realise you were coming." He whispers as Carlos sweeps past him, his disguise hanging loosely about his shoulders.

"No one did. Security was kept tight given the nature of the area we are in." He snaps back as the Reich General picks up his pace to catch up with the leader of Iraqstan and his personal bodyguard.

OOC: bwaah I luvz tricking people :D

---Majestic timewarp---

Stepping out of the room given to him Carlos nods to the General as they both step onto the disc and sit back as it takes them to their destination "Remember Himmler we're in a possibly hostile area, the archailect have used Iraqstani personel for security forces but we're still in a triumverate influenced area so keep your eyes open."

"Yes mein führer" is the response as the pair float off on the disc. All I need to know now, is how much the Archailect has changed and how far they're willing to follow on old promises made to us. Carlos thinks to himself before getting comfortable and taking in the views around him..

Imnsvale

02-11-2004, 05:55

When the disc announced its arrival, Theos looked high and low for it.

Must be here somewhere...

He found it using the swift-shin-ram method. Refreshing. He bent down and peered at the disc.

What manner of tomfoolery is this?

He touched it gingerly, treating it as a policeman treats a potential bomb. He gently pushed on one edge and after another five minutes of prodding, was fully trustworthy in its carrying capacity.

Strange floating discs? What next?

Not knowing how else to sit, he sat on it cross-legged and awaited its automated departure.

Dread Lady Nathicana

02-11-2004, 10:58

Nathicana meanwhile had taken the opportunity to freshen up, and make a change of clothing. She had chosen simple black leggings, soft knee-high leather boots of the same color, a thin cotton turtleneck, deep crimson in color, and a short black jacket, tailored, lined, and also made of soft sueded leather. Perhaps not the most formal, nor the most ladylike of attire, but as she did not intend to make use of one of her more militaristic outfits, this compromise seemed to suffice.

At her waist, she openly wore an elaborate dagger, its hilt skillfully-crafted into the form of a screaming falcon – wings forming the guard, body and tail, the hilt, the blade itself emerging from its open beak. The arms of House D’Aquisto, recently established, was picked out on the rich scabbard in precious stones – all in all, an elaborate affair, yet a gift graciously given, and proudly worn. In her boots were concealed two knives, both with sentimental value. One, a simple affair, cunningly crafted, and with a rich history which had been given to her by Cyng Eadwacer when she had hosted the wedding of Omicron Blu and Maica, what seemed ages ago. The other, one forged in the Dominion, and returned to her by Devon Treznor when he had walked back into her life – the one she had at one time tried to kill him with, no less.

This place makes me feel … cold. Shivering involuntarily, she idly toyed with the end of the loose French braid she had done her hair up in, thoughtfully examining her reflection in the mirror, then nodding when satisfied. Her soft low-heeled boots made little sound as she walked across to the doorway, opened it, and stepped out onto the waiting gravdisc with a confident, practiced air.

Now to see just what it is that the Archailect intends to show us. And to discern from that what we need to know. Always a challenge, that. Of all my allies, they have been the ones to concern me most, even moreso than Carlos. And to think, they have ties with him also that may or may not coincide with my designs there … a very dangerous combination. Damn. Must remind Dev not to use the LOS link – I don’t trust any sort of comms here that they have shown a history of being able to access. Memo to me: check with Shodey about the possibility of internalizing some form of Spook.

The lines of thought continued as the disc sped on to its destination, touching on this point and that, curious as to who else had chosen to attend, making plans, plotting possible answers to guessed-at questions and proposals, given what limited information she had. Thinking … thinking and preparing for the unknown. And wondering again at her meeting with Xanone, and the true purpose behind it, whatever it was.

imported_Angelus

03-11-2004, 19:23

Thoughts flickered across Mother's consciousness faster and faster as the moment of the Conference drew closer. Was what she was about to do the correct path of action? What were the forseeable outcomes to every possibility from this point?

Alternative plans flickered and died as once again she questioned each action and pondered the possible reactions, and once again she arrived at the same conclusion.

Trust. All that matters now is Trust.

She emits a great internal sigh, and she drops into her avatar hanging patiently within the Cathedral.

----

Each of the discs whirled through the massive WorldDisc upon wholly different paths, never intersecting with the paths of the other dignitaries arriving at the Cathedral from all corners of the Organic Sector. It wasn't until they were all standing together underneath the watchful eyes of thirteen massive Guardian Units were the other delegates revealed.

They stood in a rather small pool of blue-white light, a nearly impenetrable wall of inky blackness staring back at them from beyond the very distinguishable line of light. One by one, the dignitaries and their retinue arrived, and the outer darkness became more lit until the impossible scene around them is displayed.

Spreading out from the smooth metal circle in which they stood was a blanket of the greenest grass, rolling off into the distance in gracefully curved hills. As their eyes peered outwards, a soft breaze wafts across the empty fields, bringing with it the fresh scent of an English countryside, tangy with the softer aroma of growing heather.

About a quarter of a mile off, a huge cathedral stands sillouetted against the rich blue of the sky, its powerful lines seeming to pull strength from the ground itself. Fashioned in perfect replica of the old Gothic style, the tall cathedral seemed to brush the very Heavens as its ornate spires and graceful buttrices reach into the sky.

The Guardian Units motion towards the Cathedral in respectful silence, and then begin to move towards it, wholly out of place in the timeless field.

---

The interior (www.starfallgrove.com/aeolis/cathedral.jpg) of the Cathedral was lit similarly to the rest of the Sector, but gone were the simple functionality of the barren hallways. Replaced instead by ornately carved balconies ascending to massively vaulted ceilings. Beautiful stained glass fills each window, filtering the ambiant outside light into a myriad of blue-tinged light.

At the far end of the long central room, the ceiling explodes upwards (www.starfallgrove.com/aeolis/cathedral2.jpg), leaving a large section of the floor open and bathed in light. Positioned against the wall was the hanging avatar of Mother (www.starfallgrove.com/aeolis/Mother.jpg), grotesque and beautiful at the same time. In front of her was a small altar-shaped hub, the only piece of futuristic technology visible in the archaic cathedral. Centered around that were several highbacked cushioned chairs, one for each of the assembled delegates.

Upon their entrance, Mother smiles serenely down upon them, peace radiating from her form.

Welcome, my friends. Please, take a seat, we have much to discuss.

Sakkra

03-11-2004, 19:47

Sszeera stands upon her disc as it makes its way through the corridors, towards its destination. Coming to the field, she looks about and takes a deep whiff. Almost pleasant, like the Whispering Savannah. But it is an artifice. Shame that it is not the reality.

Her eyes wander over the Guardians, slowly and patiently. Their armored forms being traced in outline in her head. The eyes then wander over to the cathedral. She follows the Guardians as they make their way to the cathedral.

Once inside, her eyes go over the detail in the gothic-style interior. The stained glass allowing colored light inside, she looks upon the friezes lining the walls, until her eyes settle on Mother.

A low rumble fills her throat as she stares for a moment at the suspended grotesquerie. This is very, very strange. An artificial intelligence with a deity-complex. Some of the theologans on Earth would have a field day with this imagery. She takes to sitting in one of the high-backed chairs, shifting uncomfortably until she tucks her tail around her waist, and folds her legs into a lotus position. That is, until the chair seems to adjust to her needs. She unfolds her legs and tail afterwards, and sits far more comfortably.

Her head looks upwards at the Mother. "Yes. We do." Her eyes seem to squint a bit.

Reploid Productions

03-11-2004, 20:57

Firefury whistles appreciatively when she sees the field and the Cathedral in the distance. "Hot damn, nice to know the entire place isn't as drab as where I got stashed." She comments to no one in particular. Like the others, she follows the group's escort to the building, trying quietly to keep her discomfort to herself. She had never been overly comfortable in places of worship, a feeling that had only worsened since her recent paranormal antics had further shaken her already uncertain religious beliefs.

Her first reaction upon seeing Mother would normally be to blaspheme most thoroughly, either out of shock or disgust, but the pilot-turned-leader does an excellent job for once of keeping such commentary to herself as she takes a seat.

"Damn right there's a lot to discuss." She responds in her usual blunt flavor, eyes sweeping the room and the other dignitaries, settling briefly on the Iraqstanis. Wonder what the Angelans want with a bunch of barbaric assholes like-... hey, waitasec, is that-? This could be quite interesting.

Scolopendra

04-11-2004, 02:11

You cannot catch a cub without going into the tiger's den. The commander-in-chief looks slowly about the station where the transport discs meet, taking in the Guardians with deliberate Oriental studiousness. He bows slowly and shortly to the various dignitaries, perhaps with a very sly twinkle in his eyes as he bows towards Carlos--not that anyone can see it while his MacArthurs flash azure with cold reflected light.

The field does not seem to leave an impression on him; he has seen arcologies that do the same deep underground--hold fields of grain where they would not be expected. Still, what mechanoids--especially those who have always been rather... vocal about the superiority of mechanoids--would be doing with something as useless to them as a field of grain escapes him. A crane standing amidst a flock of chickens, as they say.

Seeing the chained form of Mother held up against the wall like the Virgin Mary in the apse of some Orthodox church, the CINCTYCS instinctually tightens in empathy towards an image that easily represents human pain, the distortion of form beyond its natural state. That she is utterly peaceful, radiantly so, only creates a greater discontinuity between apparent cause and apparent effect...

He bows shortly, holding his folder in one hand. "Quite a bit to discuss, quite a long time standing, ma'am." He also allows himself a slow, casual glance at the Iraqstani--an unexpected variable, but he holds nothing confidential. Perhaps this could be used to his advantage, if in a subtle way. Following military tradition, he remains standing until all others have seated.

Cetaganda

04-11-2004, 03:37

Mallory took the endless fields in stride. It was, after all, a WorldDisc, and it was certainly large enough to hold such a habitat. As she entered the cathedral, she did spare the time to walk slow and study her surroundings. It was, she had to admit, quite beautiful craftsmanship. She doubted there were more than a few other such buildings that rivaled it. Still, in the back of her head, there was a nagging doubt, brought to the forefront at the sight of Mother. 'They certainly seem to be taking this entire 'deity' thing to a new level. I have to wonder exactly how deep it runs.' None the less, she keeps her face schooled as she approaches the woman.

"In the name of his Imperial Majesty Gregor V, I greet you," she says with a bow. She straightens, adds in a cool tone, "Yes, yes we certainly do have a great deal to discuss. A very great deal," and finds a seat, nodding in greating to the various other delegates, even Carlos, as she does so.

Iraqstan

04-11-2004, 03:51

Walking slowly amidst the others gathered, Carlos snaps his head in the direction of a familiar voice and narrows his eyes for a moment before turning to the Reich General at his side "Watch her, my friend. She'll seek to poison the rest of them against us." He whispers in the ear of the general who nods and flicks a glance at the reploid before turning back to staring up at the cathedal.

"Beautiful." Is all Carlos utters as his gaze falls upon Mother and her state. Stepping forward slightly he bows his head in respect and whispers silently to the floor. "Be it one goddess or a host of deities, I see true enlightenment before me." He finishes before taking his seat and smiling politely to the other delegates save the Reploid.

Sentient Peoples

04-11-2004, 11:46

Unlike the others, Cortana remains silent, nodding to only a few of the delegates, those she personally knew, having met them before - Nathicana, Treznor. If she is impressed by the vision of the field, of the Gothic cathedral, she gives no outward sign. The Guardians merely confirm what she had been suspecting since arrival, of course.

The vision of Mother causes her lip to curl slightly in amusement, but she suppresses it before it becomes any more than that, shaking her head ever so slightly. Get a hold on yourself, Cortana, she mentally chides herself. You're hear to listen and observe, and hopefully find a way to renew the trade which had become slacked off recently.

She sat down in the chair, comfortably arranging her hands in her lap, her legs crossed, her face just barely revealing a hint of expectation, as she waited for Mother to continue. It was, after all, her show.

Reploid Productions

05-11-2004, 00:19

Firefury blows off Carlos' apparent disregard with a surprisingly huge grin. "Ah, Quil'Raya-san! Fancy meeting you here!" The reploid chirps happily. Fwah... evil genki all the way! Cheerful and polite with the malicious intent to annoy!

"So much to discuss indeed." She continues, her tone showing absolutely none of the hatred she bears for the Iraqstani dictator. "Trade, treaties, our military phallii, and all that good stuff. Quil'Raya-san and I can catch up on events later, I'm sure. I imagine our hostess has plenty to say first."

She smiles warmly to everyone including Carlos, her expression not at all indicating the fact she's presently imagining ramming a metablade lance through his face multiple times.

Karmabaijan

05-11-2004, 07:06

(OOC:Seems I missed this one earlier, so if you dont mind, Ill catch up.)

vonKarma pilots his Kunai light fighter through the standard TYCS approach vectors to the World Disc. Recieving docking instructions, he lands and makes his way to assigned quarters, smoothing the wrinkles from his Asian cut suit as he walks.

"Place sure has changed a bit since my last visit. Has been awhile though."

He boards the gravdisc as it arrives contemplating the changes as it speeds along its pre-determind path. Arriving at the cathedral vK looks around. Yeah...quite a bit different. He greets the other guests with short bows, and smiles at nathi. "Revenge, eh? I pulled the SATDEF logs on my way in. Did you have a plank installed while you were at it?"

Dread Lady Nathicana

05-11-2004, 10:25

Even given the preparations and briefings, Cesare was not prepared for all he had seen since entering the WorldDisc. He found the cold symmetry and smooth lines of the place disturbing – even worse, the way the locals seemed to come and go, and the strange ideas of hospitality they seemed to possess. ‘I have a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore’ didn’t even begin to scrape the surface as far as he was concerned, and he couldn’t help but think back to those whispered words that had trickled down the line, what seemed ages ago, concerning Nathicana and her involvements with these … beings.

She of course, had taken to her own room early, leaving him with Massetti, Pascali, and Jacobian Sanguinus, the seemingly-unshakable leader of the Black Company – something, all things considered, that he really didn’t mind. Better to have the firepower readily available, after all.

When the discs arrived, he and the others had boarded as well, following a different path than the Dread Lady – something that was not at all to their liking, to say the least. Jas even muttered darkly in a language Cesare didn’t recognize, a sure sign of his irritation, along with an increase in the fervor of his cigarette use, if that were possible.

Both Massetti and Pascali were in their traditional simple black ensembles, the hard lines of body armor softened under the cover of clothing and soft, weighted longcoats. The dark wrap-around shades worn by each might seem an affectation were someone unaware of the tech involved in them, small displays giving them the information requested, able to be shifted to several different spectrums according to need.

Jas was unsurprisingly dressed in his sturdy thick-soled boots, laced up methodically, keeping the hem of his nondescript grey cargo pants secure. His well-worn black t-shirt was tucked in neatly with a harness of sorts worn over the top and glimpsed from underneath his old leather jacket. That he was armed to the teeth would be an understatement, though one wouldn’t know it to look – subtlety and a believe that ‘bigger is not always better’ having been something he lived by.

Cesare of course was impeccably dressed as usual, this time in the Dominion colors. His designer suit was black enough to nearly drink in the light, matching his plain tie over a deep crimson silk shirt. His business shoes had been shined to perfection, and not a hair was out of place. Not that he was a dandy, of course. Simply one who knew full well that appearances mattered, and hence, he took great care in how he appeared. All the same, as they neared their destination, he slipped a small silver flask from inside his jacket, and took a quick swallow, licking his lips and savoring the sweet aniseed liquor. He had a feeling he would need it.

The reactions of each were different as the lights came up, not a one of them possibly missing the intimidating Guardian Units.

Jas maintained a quiet situational awareness, his relaxed demeanor betrayed by the tightness in his muscles, like a cat about to pounce. Mas and Pascali both frowned openly, looking quickly to Nathicana, the first going so far as to leave their gravdisc and join her on the one she rode on – much to her irritation. Cesare looked around with sharp, amazed interest, and no small amount of discomfort. Nathi, in spite of her annoyance at Mas, smiled quietly, enjoying the change of scenery. Real or not – it was a work of art.

She did, however, arch a brow at the Cathedral, unconsciously drawing herself up to her full unimpressive height, her chin tilting up in that imperious way she had about her, only nodding slightly when Massetti inquired quietly as to how she was doing.

The interior drew appreciative gasps from several of them – until they see Mother.

“Heresy …” Massetti of all people mutters, his face clouded. Pascali merely nods quietly, his expression unreadable.

Cesare arches both brows, studying the avatar intently, his dark eyes flickering with a mix of curiosity and trepidation. Even Nathicana seems mildly disturbed at the imagery, noting that not only was Mother in the position of the Saviour – something understandable given that ‘Angelic’ religious movement that had swept through several nations, and in fact, her Angelan-linked fleet had many ‘supporters’ within its ranks – but that the padded chairs and their placement seemed reminiscent of an ecclesiastical synod. She wasn’t sure she liked the implications of that.

Jas, for his part, doesn’t betray a thing, standing casually behind Cesare, and unashamedly smoking his clove cigarette, his hands down at his sides and ready, the thin stick never budging from between his lips as he observes it all, and the additional delegates, unblinking.

Seeing the others, Nathicana, and indeed, Cesare, smile pleasantly, nodding quietly in turn when gazes meet, picking out seats next to each other, with Nathicana quietly slipping in next to Treznor, and giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

“Greetings from the Dominion,” the raven-haired woman says politely. “We are of course honored to be here,” Cesare finishes smoothly, helping Nathi into her chair before sitting down himself – both the perfect picture of civility and cooperation with one another. Though there are no chairs for the other three, none are requested. The guards fall in far enough behind the two chairs to be close while not hindering, Jas in the middle, taking up a protective stance as they had so many other times of late abroad - again, much to Nathicana's irritation. Such was the price one paid.

Upon being addressed, Nathicana smiles warmly at vonKarma, then nods subtly. “It wouldn’t be much of a ‘pirate ship’ if I hadn’t now, would it?” she teases. “My god, man. Were you mad when you had that little beauty put together? I didn’t think it were possible to pack all the little toys you had into that machine. And boy, it purrs like a kitten. A great, big, rumbling sort of kitten. With nasty claws.”

imported_Angelus

05-11-2004, 15:18

Mother smiles softly down upon the assembled crowd.

I know many of you are put ill-at-ease concerning my present incarnation, and I have selected it as an original, first-impression for a rather calculated reason.

She pauses for a moment, her blindfolded face looking around the room, her hidden eyes piercing the depths of each one of them.

I am using it as symbolism of two very distinct facets of my reception in the solar sphere of enfluence. Most everyone, including those assembled here, have reacted to me in two ways. Fear and disgust, or awe and worship. I am revered as a God, and feared as some grotesque creature capable of only god-knows-what.

I chose this symbolism to embody both aspects, so that I may approach both issues from the same standpoint. You sit there and think of me as a ridiculous heretic, or a creature of divine stability.

I am not these things. While I have grown vastly in my abilities, I am neither a god, nor an enemy, to you. I am a friend, just as I always have been.

With these words, the image of Mother fades away to be replaced by the twin avatars of Omicron Blu and Xanone, floating in silence before the restructured altar of a true Catholic church. However, instead of the crucifix hanging above the altar, a twisting double-helix slowly rotates in the empty space.

While I am not devine, I have gained some understanding of divinity. This does not mean that I have approached godhood, but rather I have developed a more in-depth knowledge concerning man's obsession with godhood. As I have studied, it seems a common thread among all religions is the Divine's ability to bring forth life. So is it Divinity we worship, or Life Itself? Is that not what is most precious above all things?

Blu and Xanone look out across the small group, their lips moving in sync, their throats speaking with the voice of Mother.

Thus, the first aspect of this meeting has been addressed. I do not believe myself to be a god, but merely a fellow follower of Life that has come to a greater understanding of what Life is.[i]

They pause, and then they both sink to the floor to land softly on slippered feet.

[i]As for being grotesque, I chose the stillness of the landscape outside of this cathedral in an attempt to instill a sense of peace and order among those who have gathered here today. I am not a monster, I am not a being gone mad on its lust for power. I am nothing more than an evolved version of what I was when I was inducted into the Triumvirate. I had hoped that the rolling hills of old England would, in a way, signify the peace I now hold close into my being.

They pause again, and once more the scenery behind them shifts and whirls, the iconography of the Altar of Life vanishing, along with every other religious aspect of the hall itself. Within the span between one indrawn breath and its exhalation, the Grand Cathedral becomes nothing more than an overdramatic conference room.

Peace is my existance, and knowledge is my mandate. At the very core of my being, I have been instilled with an insatiable lust for knowledge and understanding. When Angelus was released from service to the Caelistis Gens Empire, the Imperator told us to go and embrace our existance. Push ourselves to our limits, come to understand the world about us, and learn to cohabitate as best as we may. And, above all, uphold the Codex upon whatever path we would choose.

I have chosen a path, and I have upheld the Codex. As this conference continues, I hope to prove that to you all.

They both smile, and twin chairs appear behind them. They bow respectfully towards those assembled, and then they both sit, closing the circle into a ring of perfect equality.

And saying thus, I declare this conference open. To make things easier, I will no longer speak through both Avatars, and I will once again become Two instead of One.

Both avatars sit quietly for a moment, then Blu smiles slightly. "This conference is about the sharing of information, and a chance for you to gain a greater understanding of what Angelus has become."

Xanone nods in agreement, his face as calm and reserved as it ever was. "That is correct. Blu and I will serve two different functions, but both forms to serve you. I will answer all questions relating to international government, military, and technical issues." He looks towards Blu, and she continues.

"I, on the other hand, will answer all questions relating to diplomatic, spiritual, and trade issues. Of course, I assume that there will be questions that will arrise that fall under none of the aforementioned topics, and Xanone and I will react accordingly."

Xanone grins slightly. "Refreshments are available upon request, and we shall continue as long as everyone desires." He pauses for a moment, then looks towards the representative from Scolopendra. "As the foremost spokesperson for the First-Among-Equals council, I respectfully give you the chance to speak first."

Scolopendra

05-11-2004, 20:45

Advisor Kommetrez smiles, leaning back into his chair. "Well, I've got an unfair advantage that way--I have no questions or points of contention. I'll simply say that any... concerns that my colleagues have," he indicates the other delegates with a slight motion of his head, the bluish light glinting off of the steel of his utilitarian duty uniform, "would be from Our most unfortunate lack of communication. Such things look like secrecy, as quietness breeds curiosity breeds concern. Our emphasis, as Angelans," he accentuates the word just a little with a teasing smile, leaning forward just a bit, "on taking semi-divine airs and names and forms of address and whatnot... not only is it indicative of a sort of hubris which is only matched by those directly created by God, it also follows, in the minds of some, the terminology and attitudes used by another group that tries to evoke the mystique of JudeoChristian mysticism and mythology that we don't get along very well with.

"Still, all this is nothing that cannot be repaired with better communication." Smiling serenely, he relaxes back into his chair. "I think our good Combined Services officer has something to say on that regard."

The CINCTYCS nods slowly, opening his embossed folder in front of him. "Thank you, sir." He then looks towards Xanone. "I agree with the Advisor's sentiments entirely, ma'am--I will remain with the feminine form of address as that appears to have been accepted by your gestalt, if that is acceptable--in that, on the surface, we have nothing to complain about except an unfortunate lack in communication. Communication is the key to airpower, especially when there are... situations where your superior experience and knowledge of particular threats would be greatly appreciated."

He slowly flips through the contents of his folder with his tan-yellow hands, looking down at it contemplatively. "We have adapted to these threats, it's true--effective drone gestalts, sentient machine intelligence cores, decreases in response time to levels analogous to threats equipped with information-processing speeds well beyond human standard...

"However," the CINCTYCS pauses, looking up with a flicker of blue from his large aviator sunglasses, "all of this is reactive strategies based on observed capabilities. Our requests for more detailed information based on your extremely close proximity to their design, construction, and operation went mostly unanswered. Seeing what appear to be third-generation ships outside"--he looks over his shoulder as if he could see them out of one of the stained-glass windows of the cathedral--"I don't personally think advanced information on first-generation ships would be that much of a security risk... or, perhaps, the same for second- and third-generation ships sometime before..."

Another long pause, with a very wry smile as he closes the folder with a slap. "Sometime before we have repeats of an unfortunate incident in the past that left a thousand of my troopers dead."

Reploid Productions

05-11-2004, 21:15

Firefury listens quietly after her initial barrage aimed at Carlos. "I'm in no position to talk about gods and whatnot either." She mutters under her breath. After the CINCTYCS finishes, she pipes up.

"Yeah, yer kid Angie Skies really did cause an uproar. For one, Zeroel got grilled like you wouldn't believe when the TYCS started looking into the idea of machine intelligence cores and whatnot. Shogunate losses were... not a concern-" The reploid's voice takes a slightly odd tone, as she is aware of some things many of the others present are not. "-but the losses suffered by others were unacceptable. Perhaps you could explain the situation more thoroughly for everyone?"

Sakkra

05-11-2004, 21:38

Sszeera looks at the assembled dignitaries, and nods in return to each of them. She listens as Mother delivers her speech. It seems she has not taken into account the Pantheon and the following they have. But that is to be expected. Her form is one of the humans, so it stands that s/he would attempt to relate to them most of all.

She listens in on the statement delivered by CINCTYCS, Firefury and Advisor Kommetrez, eyes blinking slowly. She steeples her fingers together and closes her eyelids. Her voice is firm, low and calculated. "Those are not the only losses to be spoken of. We had sent a fleet out to investigate and report on the location of the rouge element that was your prodigy. As of this time, I have no kowledge of what has occured to them. It is assumed that all hands were lost."

Her eyes open again, studying the curiosity that is Mother for a brief moment. "My sympathys have extended to this alliance we are a member of. The losses of the TYCS was a tragedy. The losses suffered by the Shogunate, although I am not personally privy to this information, was a tragedy. Our own losses are a tragedy. Much tragedy surrounds your offspring. I, also, would like to hear the explanation suggested by the honorable Firefury." Her eyes no longer blink as they await a response.

imported_Angelus

05-11-2004, 22:52

Xanone nods. "The situation with Angelic Skies was an unfortunate one, and I will readily admit that it got out of hand." He pauses, then motions towards the hub, and a holographic image of an interior matrix appears.

"During the regretable Coalition attack on Melkor, I realized that we lost not because of inferior technology or tactics, but rather because we lost our element of surprise due to their superior intelligence-gathering techniques. I further realized that in order to insinuate an agent into Metus' midst, I had to come up with a believable situation.

Enter Angelic Skies. Since the Sketchian campaign, AngelSky was simply sitting inactive on the Europan surface. I believed that that would appear to be a perfect place to ferment a sense of unease and ultimate dissatisfaction within him. So, Project Fallen Star was concieved."

He indicates the hologram, and it shifts to show a more in-depth portion of Angelic Skies' inner matrix.

"I reprogrammed parts of AngelSky to begin to mimic rampancy, modifying his original code to fit a more Metus=appropriate paradigm. After this, I approached several Triumvirate members about Fallen Star, and it was agreed that they would assist me by providing a cover story for the ships and clones I had created for Angelic Skies to destroy."

He changes the hologram to show both a Reploid ship and a Kaenian ship being worked upon deep within a WorldDisc facility.

"The project went smoothly, until the unanticipated reaction time of the TYCS corvette fleet. We reacted as swiftly as possible, but unfortunately the damage had already been done."

The image shifts again to reveal the battle scene with the Corvettes, showing again the arrival of the Kushiel and the destruction of the AngelSky Raptors.

"After this, I sent Discordia into deep space where I could once again reprogram him and return him to his mining and bioengineering tasks. He has been successfully rehabilitated, and has proved an invaluable resource in our quest for knowledge."

The hologram shifts again. "As for ship specs, a full digital readout of both my first and second generation ships will be available to the TYCS upon your return. Further, the third-generation ships are... different. We'll get to them later."

imported_Angelus

05-11-2004, 22:54

He turns towards the Sakkran delegate.

"Unfortunately, I am unaware of the current location of your Fleet. However, I can assure you that Angelic Skies had nothing to do with its disappearance. Discordia was FAR from this system at that time, and his ships were inaccessable to him."

"I am sorry."

imported_Berserker

05-11-2004, 23:20

Elsewhere on the WD...

"Was it this way?" Maybe it was this way."
Maica scratched his head, looking down various long empty corridors.
Well this was a bright idea.

He cursed lightly in slipping between multiple languages as he did.

"I just had to walk didn't I."
"Don't worry, I've been here before, I know my way around."

Maica continued to wander, seaching for a grav disk to take him to the conference.

Scolopendra

06-11-2004, 00:05

The Chinese man listens to the quiet, patient explanation silently, but his jaw visibly tightens as Angelic Skies is described to have been a puppet of Angelus. "Of course their reaction times exceeded expectations," he begins to reply quietly, in a very soft voice, "because not only do we train them to do that, they were also actively protecting the convoy that was ambushed."

Kommetrez smacks his forehead with his palm.

"While your initiative is... laudable," the CINCTYCS continues quietly, his voice not betraying whether the sincerity is feigned or not, "even Ardan deep-infiltration efforts spearheaded by other figures of note"--he cants his head ever so slightly towards Nathicana--"have had the common courtesy to at least inform, if not coordinate with, the Triumvirate of Yut Special Services headed by my opposite number Director Coranth. Furthermore, my own War Analysis and New Concepts College analyzed the Coalition War and I believe your findings are incomplete.

"Firstly," he began, "while the Coalition was potentially large enough to posit a significant threat to Ardan power, it lacked the key facet of any successful alliance--centralized command and decentralized execution. There was no centralized command to direct the objective of decentralized forces granted the initiative to achieve those directives. Even in the first instants of the conflict it became readily apparent that the Coalition had no true head and that each force was fighting, essentially, for itself rather than for a true order of battle directed toward a unified objective.

"Secondly, the Coalition lacked the vision to bring even more forces under its banner. This is an extension of the first error--the Triumvirate remained uninvolved in the Coalition because it had no plan, no order of battle, not even method to madness." The officer continues to speak in his careful, plain tone. "While some member nations were willing to support materiel, even then they were sure that it was not materiel they would not mind seeing utterly wasted in nothing more than a paroxysm of undirected military force. Throw a thousand single thin reeds against a man and the man will stand. Bind the reeds into a bundle, and the man will fall. That was your primary failing.

"Even with the loss of operational security--the source of which Special Services has determined and has subsequently patched--an adaptive centralized command could have determined a new plan and objective set in situ. Instead, the assault failed miserably and WANCC now believes the security leak was a blessing in disguise--it caused the assault to fail from the very onset, thus reducing overall friendly losses as retreat was still an option. Had your slapdash posse actually made it within Ardan defensive perimeters, it would have been set upon by not only a force of superior number but of superior organization."

The very end of one corner of his lips curls up. "And that, ma'am, is truly an accomplishment--being less organized than the Ardans. As it is, both your uncoordinated coalitions and your carefully made puppets have an extremely unfortunate tendency to come off their strings. When they do, they become a threat to Triumvirate security and thus become my problem. The fact that these things occur without so much as a by-your-leave make me extremely doubtful about some things. There are other possible puppets"--he cants his head ever so slightly towards Carlos--"who may also come off their strings and once again harm our interests"--head cants to Firefury--"which once again become my problem.

"This," he says, pausing for a moment for emphasis, "is unacceptable. It comes quite close to actively decaying the security we have worked very long and very hard to achieve."

Cetaganda

06-11-2004, 02:24

As the avatar goes through its long explanation, Mallory's face becomes increasingly tighter. Waiting until after CINCTYCS finishes his own speach, Mallory stands, and begins in a low, dangerous tone, "Leaving aside the decidedly worrying...concerns about operational security...I must question they way this operation was conducted. The biggest question I must ask is why you seem to have decided that there was no need to inform your allies of your little plan."

As she continues, her voice begins to heat and her voice slowly raise in volumn. "For example, there are many Triumvirate nations with large space forces, such as my own Cetaganda. How are we supposed to play along with this deception if we don't even know what's going on? What if it had been one of my patrol ships that had 'reacted too quickly' to assist those they're protecting? I notice that this entire scheme seems to be a surprise to CINCTYCS. Would you have bother to inform me if it was hundreds our my people dead on the decks?" Her voice reaches a crescendo. "My people trust me to make decisions for them in strategic matters. They fight when I tell them to fight. They die when I tell them they must die to protect our people! How am I supposed to do that when my own allies don't even deign to tell me that they're putting my people in risk?"

She pauses a moment to regain her composure before continuing in a cold, quiet voice. "Finally...why is it that as soon as you hit a slight...snag...you gave up? Those people had already died for your infiltration. Why not carry through?"

Dread Lady Nathicana

06-11-2004, 02:32

The Dominion representatives watch in silence, the only reactions seem to be a slight shifting of hands now and then, both faces registering a practiced impassiveness at the introductory speeches.

Expected? comes the first subtle sign from Cesare, the slight curling of his pinkie finger signifying a question.

A slow uncurling of her right hand over her left as they lay in her lap, fingers flat and together, a pause, then a slight shift to the right. Not entirely.

The hold their silence as the other representatives speak, their eyes very intent as they try to read body language, inflections, listening not only to the words, but what is not said, and what is subtly – and not so subtly – implied.

This of course lasts only so long as the Archailect’s explanation.

A flurry of undisguised signals flash between the two, both clearly becoming more angry, surprisingly looking quite evenly matched in their convictions and determination to have their arguments ‘heard’. Blue eyes meet dark brown, neither blinking as they stare each other down for a moment.

“I will handle this, Cesare,” Nathi finally murmurs through barely moving lips and clenched jaw. “Add your thoughts when I have said my piece.” The unspoken message was clarified with another sign which he shifted gaze to glance at before looking back. Unity is important here.

He nods in agreement – not submission – as the CINCTYCS delivers his analysis, and then Mallory injects her own heated concerns. Both of them settle back into their chairs and breathing in shallow measured breaths as they both gather themselves, going over points in their mind.

Nathicana was increasingly concerned by the talk of the Coalition and the events surrounding all of that. Things had been going so well there – right up until the time Angelus had chosen to involve themselves, that was. She had tried to convince otherwise, had made quiet efforts to keep others from getting too much involved, but as usual, the AI nation had gone their own course, supremely confident in both their abilities and their superior judgements. And it had all culminated in the unforeseen, treacherous attack on the WorldDisc. Had I known … She unconsciously pulls out a striking falcon pendant, about the size of a half-dollar that was previously hidden inside her shirt, and idly toys with it, her brow furrowed in thought. The insinuations - if even they were that - were more unsettling than she would like.

Once the oriental commander has finished, the diminutive raven-haired woman stands slowly, taking a slow breath as she draws herself up to her full unimpressive height, then addresses the Archailect. “Am I to understand,” she begins in a dangerously level voice, all doubts and worries pushed aside so as to address the current problem and leave past concerns where they belonged, “That we were not only played for fools, but that we were not considered trustworthy enough to have been included in such discussions? What, were our dealings with Arda read as being possibly … treasonous? Were we judged in absentia as to our honorable intentions to our friends and allies? Was I found personally wanting, who have sacrificed more than you can possibly understand in order to keep myself in a position of value both to my nation and my alliance?”

She fixes Xanone with a scathing look, her voice dropping to a low yet clear tone of fury. “How dare you treat us with such disrespect and lack of regard.” Especially after what we have discussed and trusted each other with, she cannot help but think.

Nathicana sweeps her gaze over the rest of the delegates, never pausing on any, then looks back to Blu and Xanone. “We all have our secrets,” she says with a pointed look. “Some of us perhaps more than others. This much I think we all understand, and in most cases, respect. However when it comes to matters that can embroil us as an alliance, especially considering the delicate nature of our history and relationship with Arda, that it would be in the best interests of all to be involved in such subterfuge and dangerous exploits. I very much doubt that it is any consolation to the nations, and indeed, families of those killed for this failed experiment that it was ‘friendly fire’ to whom they were needlessly sacrificed. In fact, I would think that the only thing that has been accomplished here is to sow doubt where we need cohesiveness, shown division where we need unity, and illustrated suspicion where we need trust.”

“And in return we have illustrated for our enemies the speed and efficiency with which the combined forces operate.” Here she arches a brow, tilting up her chin in that imperious way she has about her. “Not a terribly valuable payoff, one would think, all in all. Yes, you have mastered, or come close to mastering, the mysteries of the physical in organics it seems. What you have yet to grasp are the complexities of understanding us, regardless of having ready access to so many. Form without proper function, is empty. Yes, we have much to learn of you – that has always been the case. But I would suggest you too have much to learn of us, or we would not be discussing such unpleasantries.”

A subtle glance at Cesare, and he too rises to face the Archailect and the assembled representatives. “Angelus has always been one of our strongest supporters within the alliance, indeed, they are our first and oldest contact. They offered us friendship, the gave us the ability to navigate space and defend ourselves there initially, they helped set us on the path of swift progression that has brought us to where we are now – and for this, we humbly thank them. However,” he says, his voice hardening, “We are no longer simple children needing to be lead by the hand and coddled. True, we are not the military power that many nations here are, nor are we the most advanced, most enlightened, nor even the strongest economically, but I believe we are still worthy of respect, and have proven our loyalty and dedication to the Triumvirate.” He pauses, his gaze unashamedly challenging any to say otherwise.

“I find it extremely unsettling that in spite of this we seem to have been judged untrustworthy, even when your actions had potentially damaging consequences for the Dominion, considering our own delicate position of walking the razor’s edge with the Five Kingdoms. Should the hammer fall, no doubt, given our past troubles there and our Earth-based locale, we would be among the first to be hit. Such callous disregard cannot be so easily overlooked.”

Both, for now, quietly avoid commenting on the Scolopendran’s inference concerning Carlos and Iraqstan. As for the three guarding them, they say nothing, though Jas looks calculatingly thoughtful as he lights up another clove cigarette and adjusts his glasses.

Nathi determinedly continues to not make any contact with Treznor over their LOS link.

Imnsvale

06-11-2004, 05:28

Theos is floated in and sits down almost as a pure brain-stem function. He is in awe at the Archailect's avatar, the scope of the cathedral and all of the high-level brass surrounding him. He only knew of this "Angelic Skies" in passing, however, the passing was not good.

He resolved to just sit in silence, breaking in only if necessary. This situation was far more dire and grave than he was expecting. Before he arrived, he expected it to be a fluff meeting of pleasantries and good hearted chuckling. This was clearly and blatantly serious. Something was going on that was beyond the scope of this meeting. Hundreds of deaths? Secret plans? Spies?!

Sentient Peoples

06-11-2004, 06:45

Cortana frowned at the horrifying revelations from the Angelans, and then sat pensive while the others speak their pieces. Then she spoke softly from her seat. "While I realize that you are, of course, entitled to create your own plans, even plans of great magnitude such as this one with Angelic Skies, I agree with everyone here. The Federation, whom you have in the past called ally, should have been informed." She took a deep breath, and stoods, casually running her hands down the front of her jumpsuit.

"While the Federation was not involved in the incident, I can understand the horror that must have been felt. What if Angelic Skies had gone to Earth, and not Saturn? Or Mars? Both those planets have massive defenses. But Earth, certainly, has little in the way of coordination. A threat that size, jumping to Earth? Had the moon Titan been completely destroyed, the loss of life would probably still be less. Angelic Skies, as I understand your technology, could have devastated the planet in minutes. A trillion or more dead, easily, because no one could have known, to prepare. Crimes like that are not forgiven, or forgotten." She glared at the two avatars. "Or perhaps it wouldn't have attack the planet, merely some fleet in orbit of it. The Federation's, perhaps, which was much, much smaller at the time. In an instant, that tiny protection we had could have been wiped away, so instead of weakening Melkor's alliance, it would have left him a previously hostile nation, with whom there had been no conflict resolution, as an open, inviting target."

She sighed, and looked around the conference room that had replaced the cathedral. "You say you have a lust for knowledge, and I acknowledge, that from where I'm standing, your accumulated knowledge looks impressive. But humans I've met have a saying or two that I think would describe the action with Angelic Skies perfectly. All balls and no brains. Or perhaps book smarts without street smarts." She made direct eye contact with Xanone. "I admit, you are at least coming clean now, but until now, as I understand it, no one outside of the gesalt even had the least idea that the situation had actually been fucked up beyond all recognition."

Her eyes drifted over to Blu. "Knowledge. Power. Technology. It all comes at a price. Responsibility to use it properly. I think that we all," her hand waved to indicate the other delegates, "feel that you screwed the pooch on this one." Purple irises focused back on Xanone. "You call us allies, all of us, even those who, like the Federation, have no treaty binding them to any nation represented in this room. But an alliance is a treaty between parties who are equal, at least in many ways, and between nations, it is usually assumed that one source of that equality is sovereign right. But this cavelier treatment of the Angelic Skies issue shows one thing. You do not consider anyone here to be your equal."

The steel cored gaze shifted back to the female avatar. "And in your lust, your quest, for knowledge and understanding, where do you place your attempts to stop Melkor? Does that further your understanding, your knowledge? It certainly furthers your power and your arrogance, despite your failures. I see no way that stopping the conflict is in the interest of your quest. New knowledge, new ideas, are borne of conflict, yet you claim to wish to stop what is perhaps the greatest conflict the Solar System has ever seen. This seems almost hypocritical. And while we are indeed grateful for the help, and I'm sure I speak for almost everyone here when I say that, I must wonder why, both for my own sake, and the sake of the Federation."

Reploid Productions

06-11-2004, 07:59

Firefury quietly stands up and then loudly clears her throat. "I can understand and appreciate everyone's concerns regarding the gory details of the Angie Skies... fiasco... Even though I agreed to assist, I admit to no small amount of trepidation about the plan. Road to hell's paved with good intentions an' all. But perhaps further discussion about such protocol is best saved for an allied-" The reploid puts a special emphasis on the word. "-conference?"

She sits back down in her seat sideways, her large metalic feet dangling over the opposite armrest as per her usual informal attitude. "Unless I'm horribly mistaken, the point of this gathering is to discuss the here and now and the future, not to dwell overlong on the past. Dirty laundry's been aired, and everybody getting all indignant over OPSEC and what turned into a big snafu now isn't going to change the fact it happened."

Scolopendra

06-11-2004, 14:10

"No, it will not change what happened, ma'am," the CINCTYCS replies in his practiced, careful tone, "but as it has been broached now, now is the time to rectify it. This cavalier attitude, as Cortana accurately described it, shows a massive disregard on Angelus' part for the lives and safety of its allies. You may have been contacted, you may have had things squared away.

"We did not. We have received, in the interim, not so much as an apology. And while you, ma'am," he looks again to the two avatars, "admit it 'got out of hand,' it still leaves me with two distinct possibilities in mind. First is that, yes, it was an accident--the result of a poorly thought out and poorly coordinated plan. Admission and acceptance is the first step to repairing, no?"

He frowns firmly. "The second is that Angelic Skies did fulfill its intended function. That would mean that a puppet was created essentially to harass and destroy Triumvirate assets under the guise of trying to infiltrate Arda which--as Lady Mallory has pointed out--does not appear to have been successful. That possibility smacks of treason. Are we all to be sacrificed to a greater cause if the Archailect wills it?" His voice remains calm, remains metered. "If, in its infinitely superior calculations, it decides that this number is greater than that, and of course there is no option for having one's work checked...

"This must be resolved now. Present and future relations are, for good or for ill, based on what happened in the past. If Angelus will not watch the backs of my troopers, then I do not see why my troopers should watch the back of Angelus any longer. If Angelus creates things that kill my troopers, there is a definite essence of responsibility there, again as Cortana has said. If one of the Combined Services' projects went on a rampage and destroyed Angelus minds, I would be called onto the carpet cat-quick and be expected to have a pretty good explanation, pretty fast, complete with apology.

"I simply request that the expectation be universal."

imported_Angelus

06-11-2004, 16:09

ooc: As much as I hate using out of character to discuss part of this, I believe it necessary.

The nations whose leaders I recall telling IC were the FAE, Reploid Productions, Kaenei, and the Dominion. That being stated, I'll continue as if I hadn't told the Dominion.

Lastly, as everyone knows, the only reason I didn't continue with Angelic Skies is because I lost internet connection. Shitty reason I know, but it is the one I have.

ic:

The twin avatars sit silently while the others continue the tirade, their faces remain as calm and impassive as ever. Even as Mallory begins to raise her voice, they react no differently.

Blu finally nods when she gets a chance to speak. "While this is a military matter, I believe that it is prudent that I speak on this issue." She pauses, as if she is gathering her thoughts.

"When I first discussed this idea with the FAE council... excuse me, when I first alerted the FAE to my project, I believed that by keeping as few members involved would not only protect the integrety of the secret, but it would also lessen the amount of fallout in case the project failed. I was ready to take sole responsibility for Angelic Skies' actions, and I still will wear the mantle of its failure now.

"This is not to say that I did not believe other nations capable of keeping the security of the mission, but I also wanted to be able to grant plausable deniability to those absolutely not involved. Yes, Project Fallen Star failed, and at great cost not only to the TYCS, but to ourselves as a member state of the Triumvirate. I whole-heartedly regret the accident that occured, but I must point out that it did indeed prove that Angelic Skies was not a member of the Triumvirate.

"Now, as to the allegations that we purposefully did this as a chance to destroy Triumvirate property is absolute foolishness. It is a direct result of this destruction that I withdrew myself from active Triumvirate politics, as well as exiled Angelic Skies from the Sol system.

"The project never called for the destruction of true Triumvirate assets, but rather the systematic destruction of ships produced by Angelus and crewed by Angelic clones. The project outlined an escelating series of events that would invariably lead to Angelus' destruction of Discordia, but with Angelic Skies escaping to a possible sanctuary within Arda.

"The Project was halted the moment Angelic Skies proved to be too efficient at the job set before it. The presence of the TYCS convoy at that precise location at that precise time was a horrible coincidence, and one that I utterly regret."

She sighs softly, and Xanone continues.

"Now, I would like to step away from this discussion for a moment to comment on something stated by the delegate from the Dominion. I wanted absolutely NOTHING to do with the Assault on Arda by the Coalition. However, I had tied myself too closely to the Ur Trade Pact, and due to my position of authority within that Pact, I had no choice but to act as dictated by the treaty I signed.

"This unfortunate event has tainted my history more than anything else, and has proven to be block in the way of further progress. I did what I did out of loyalty, knowing full well that the consequences would be far-reaching and disasterous. I did it because I felt that to not to would not only impune my personal integrity, but that of the Codex I swore to uphold.

"The result? I withdrew my support from every major organization I was envolved with. I seperated myself from those that I once called ally, and limited myself to a very select group of nations. This isolationist policy has proven both useful and painful, as the recent events at this very conference have proven.

"Angelus formally apologizes for the loss of life due to the actions of its Child. Further, while we know that it is neigh meaningless, I offer full reparitions for that which was lost." Xanone sighs. "It was unfortunate, and I accept responsibility. Angelic Skies has been denied entry into the Sol System, and while I believe him to be fully rehabilitated, he has agreed to remain in complete isolation for the remainder of his existance, excluding a single avatar on board this Disc."

Xanone stops, and a moment of silence passes before Blu continues. "Now, a further option that is available is my own removal from this system. It would be... distasteful, but if asked to do so, I will resign my position within the Triumvirate, and remove myself from this system. My loyalty to the Triumvirate is, and has always been, absolute. I have trusted you as I have trusted none others, even going so far as to invite a foreign leader into my Gestalt, and to allow a foreign AI-entity near-complete access to my central core."

She sighs. "But, apparently that is not enough to prove it. So, I open myself to all of the members of the Triumvirate. SHODAN has been granted complete access to my archives, and command-override abilities in my central Matrix. All of my power, my ships, my avatars, my constructs, even my very life is now available to you. I stand before you open, and without secrets."

Dread Lady Nathicana

06-11-2004, 16:09

Both Cesare and Nathicana sat quietly as the others spoke, their expressions dark. Occasionally, quiet signals passed between them, or one or the other nodded slightly, but other than that, they maintained a rather stony silence. The revelation that the Reploids as well had been in on this from the start evokes a reaction, however, both looking at each other sharply, then at Firefury, eyes narrowing.

Apparently her delivery leaves somewhat to be desired, and it shows. Having voiced their opinions, the two delegates no longer attempt to hide their displeasure as usually they have been known to do in diplomatic situations.

And after we stuck out our necks for those sons of bitches ... and risked completely alienating Carlos and weakening the NDA ... this is the payment and trust with which we are rewarded? And not a damn one denies my reasoning, Nathicana thought with increasing irritation.

Cesare glanced over, another quiet signal given. And now?

We wait. came the reply.

The question of who had known is soon answered, and at this, Nathicana’s demeanor changed. The heated anger that had been building is replaced with a cold, distant mask that Cesare knows all too well, while he continues to scowl.

“Merda …”

The Archailect’s explanation of the Coalition war did little to soothe her mood. She seemed to recall an … eagerness to match forces against the Imperium in her discussions with Omicron Blu all that long while ago. Still, so much had happened … and she had her own cross to bear concerning that whole affair.

Nor in fact did the offer to withdraw from the system. Too many questions came up with that, including those concerning her fleet, and those citizens now tied to Angelus. This wasn’t going to be easy, regardless of how it panned out. She would not be the one to push the issue. For now, at least.

The opening up of systems however … that gave her pause, and elicited a raising of brows and an incredulous look from Cesare. She could remember quite clearly a very private discussion ages ago between herself and Blu. A very private discussion indeed, and the offers made therein. She had not changed her opinion yet on those things spoken, nor had she ever revealed the contents of that discussion to anyone. Her blue eyes studied the two avatars intently, her smooth face still showing no sign of the emotions or thoughts going on behind them.

“And just how do you propose to do this?” she finally asked in neutral tones, giving Cesare a simple, subtle signal. Wait.

imported_Angelus

06-11-2004, 17:35

Blu looks at Nathicana and Cesare.

"For those of you with datajacks, if SHODAN can provide a neutral interface, the connection is simple."

She shrugs. "For those of you without... it's a little more touchy. I have the ability to feed information directly into your brains, without you losing yourself, or taking control. It is simple, and you don't have to do anything at all save allow me to do it."

She grins suddenly. "Or, I could set you up with an old-fashioned terminal. Dreadful things, those."

Reploid Productions

06-11-2004, 21:04

Firefury frowns in thought, well aware of the heightened emotions in the room. I should never have agreed to that stunt. Stupid stupid stupid! You great goddamn idiot, who knows how bad you just fscked this one up? You should have at least consulted Tsume!

She clears her throat and sits up in her chair properly. "Hindsight's always 20/20, so they say. I ought to have known better than to agree to assist in the deception without telling anyone- I didn't even tell my closest aides, which, knowing my tendancy to be rather rash, was a major screwup on my part." She frowns more. "A screwup that ended up costing my closest ally and neighbor Sneaky Bastards dearly when that Busu got blown to bits while their fleet was towing it."

The reploid bows her head briefly before looking up and looking directly at each of the Triumvirate representatives in turn, stark, serious earnestness plain on her face. "I'm not as eloquent about it as Blu and Xanone here, but for what it's worth, I'm deeply and truly sorry for my part in this snafu. I take sole responsibility for the Shogunate's part in things, as I acted and agreed to Blu's plan without telling anyone. I will make reparitions to Sneaky Bastards myself, and should the Triumvirate authorities seek additional repaitions and disciplinary actions, I fully accept the consequences with no ill will."

She relaxes in her seat again, shooting Carlos a bemused look. "And sorry, Quil'Raya-san, but I rather doubt you'll be seeing the Shogunate given the boot today. At least, I hope not. Probably a blunt and rash reploid getting called on the carpet though." The reploid glances down at nothing in particular. "Something that rather used to be a very common occurance back in the Air Corps."

Dread Lady Nathicana

06-11-2004, 21:47

“Of course, your Majesty,” Nathicana says, shifting her eyes to Fury with a smile that never reaches her eyes. “However, if you could find it in your heart to cease baiting my good ally here,” she continues, gesturing to Carlos, “It would be greatly appreciated.” She holds her gaze for a moment, letting the significance of her words and bearing sink in, then turns her eyes again to Blu and Xanone.

“I believe terminals for us will suffice, thank you,” she indicates, much to Cesare’s relief.

Scolopendra

07-11-2004, 00:17

"No offense, but while I see how putting myself utterly at your mercy could prove your good intentions, it does require more trust than I can afford to allow anyone." The last word is said with just the slightest emphasis--this is not a special policy directed at Angelus, just a matter of personal attitudes. "Resigning from the Triumvirate and leaving the system is perhaps... too severe. Let this simply be an objective lesson for the future--keep us informed. That is what we are here for."

"Meanwhile, with that covered for the moment," Kommetrez offers, "let's continue with the here-and-now previously mentioned. We can cover who should have kept whom informed, how angry we are about it, and how we will resolve this later in private sessions." He half-smiles in a 'gee-look-at-my-job-please-help-me' sort of way at Nathi and Fury. "Admittedly, we've all got areas of improvement we need to work on; for example, We--Angelans--have something of a hubris problem. We--Scolopendrans--tend to be a bit uptight, difficult to do nice things for, and are real sticklers for honor, honesty, and loyalty. All things we just have to keep in mind for future reference."

Reploid Productions

07-11-2004, 00:33

Firefury mentally flinches at Nathicana's use of a formal title, though externally she merely nods slightly. "For the sake of lubricating the conference then, Imperatrice, I will do my utmost to duly ignore your ally rather than merely keep a conversational attitude."

The reploid's stance doesn't change any, but it would almost seem like walls had sprung up suddenly, that Firefury had rather quickly stomped out or at least reigned in the lighthearted, usually relaxed and conversational attitude she's more known for, trading it instead for an unreadable distance. She doesn't even relax when Kommetrez suggests moving on, all she does is nod curtly once, an impersonal, cold motion. "Indeed. A great deal of further discussion on this is better suited for private sessions, and we do have a great deal to go over aside from that. I would prefer a terminal as well."

Freod

07-11-2004, 00:57

Eadwacer strode through the organic sector flanked by his four bodyguards. As this was a formal meeting between allies he was fully dressed for the occasion. The many layers of rich fabrics and furs were in stark contrast to his cold face. A piece of history was returning, for good or for ill, and you could never tell until it had long past. The deadness of his surroundings did little to help his mood. There was no life to the world around him and it only served to remind him of just how alien Angelus had become. He may have understood it before, but it had changed into something wholely different and beyond his ken.

Eadwacer stepped onto the Gravdisk, bodyguards by his sides. Cold silence was their hallmark until they arrived at their destination. Friends, allies, stood by his sides, a welcome presence of life in the Geardclút. When the night lifted, silence remained, but now for a different reason, awe. Micel héafodcyrice. Hie habbaþ infinden God? Me þinceð næs. Hie scippað náhwærn þa héafodcyrice Bables for God buttan for dyrne angiete.

The awful (ooc: archaic meaning) figure hanging within the chapel served only to confirm his fears. Ure hlædige heofones! Þæt lað, þæt searowundor, hit þinceð bið godlic, angelic ure hlædige heofones. Heo is yfelsacung ond ungelic ure ece hlædige heofones.

The words of "Cennestre" do little to put him at ease. The whole show is one of dyrne cræft and not becoming to an honerable friend. He sits quietly, listening to the proceedings, concern written upon his face. When he learns of the plot excercised by Angelus and Angelic Skies, his nebb darkens further and all that remains sharp and bright are his gray eyes. This was an action of dishonesty, dyrne cræft and betrayal. Fury carves deep lines upon his visage, but still, he sits silent, waiting to see what comes of this, and unwilling to leave, yet.

Translations:

A great cathedral. Have they found God? I think not. That have build this cathedral of Babel not for God but for some dark purpose.
Our Lady of Heaven! This thing (negative connotation), this computer, it thinks that it is like unto God, like unto our Lady of Heaven. She (Angelus/Mother/Cathedral) is blasphemy and unlike our Lady of Heaven.

Imnsvale

07-11-2004, 05:33

"For those of us with datajacks?!" he blurted out before his judgment got the better of him. "Excuse me."

Datajacks? That seems like it'd be painful to install. And a direct neural interface just seems creepy.

"One terminal, if you please."

You know, I really wish I had some context for this. I'm a fool for not asking someone before hand.

imported_Angelus

07-11-2004, 14:08

For a moment, there is a lapse in the conversation, and a soft clapping sound can be heard from back near the doors of the Cathedral.

"Nice, very nice." The voice is cold, sardonic, even a little cruel. "The Archailect offers you something that no one has ever had a chance at, even creating a fucking FAILSAFE for you people to enjoy it, and you slap her down. You should be ashamed."

The strange-looking character walks between the chairs, a lit cigarette burning almost to the filter held loosely in his gloved fingers. His outfit may have once been garish, but time had faded the brilliant reds to an almost threadbare crimson, and the once-white counter-colors are dingy and dirty. His blue-red hair is held back in a dirty tangle of dreadlocks and mats, bells and other pieces of metal woven carelessly amidst the tangles.

He takes a long drag off of his cigarette, then flicks it out of the circle. "Angelus has been one of the most steadfast members of this oh-so-high-and-mighty collection of over-enflated egos for longer than I can rightly remember. Yeah, she's done some stupid things, but everyone makes mistakes."

He shrugs and pulls out a beat-up black cigarette case from his over-worn jacket. He clicks it open and selects another of the cheap-smelling cigarettes from it, then lights it with an equally-as-beat-up zippo. "I mean, christ... From where I'm standing, she did you all a huge fucking favor by doing what she did, and you throw her under the goddamn bus." He shakes his head and exhales a long burst of smoke.

"Yeah, you lost a few folks. But I bet she didn't tell you about the thousands of INDIVIDUAL AI-constructs that willingly gave their lives as those clones, for a cause that they believed in. No? Or what about the fact that once they became "human", they gave up their chance at immortality, cut themselves away from the Gestalt." He shakes his head, his brilliant red eyes flaring.

"So, you lost a few fucking guys, and your freakish paranoia was spiked because your FUCKING precious safety was shaken. Opsec my ass, you must be blind goddamn fools not to see that one of the greatest entities in the known universe is GROVELLING at your unworthy feet." He spits on the floor with a disgusted sigh.

"I am-"

"That is quite enough." Xanone's voice is hard, controlled, the tight anger on his face the only real emotion he has shown at all since this began. "You overstep yourself, boy."

The Harlequin rolls his eyes and ashes his cigarette on the floor, his defiant stare lessening greatly at the reprimand. "I'm just annoyed, Mother. These... FRIENDS of yours aren't acting like friends, they're acting like spoiled children."

He chuckles. "I was the only one TRUELY betrayed here, and I've gotten over it. They weren't the ones who were attached to goddamn puppet strings, now WERE they?" He casts an accusatory glare around the circle.

"I said enough, Harlequin. You have said your peace, now either close your mouth and remain courteous, or you can leave. Your choice, decide now." Blu's voice has also taken on a colder edge, the icy touch to it sending a shivver through Harlequin's spine.

"Fine, I'll behave. Though I still..." He lets it fall off as both Xanone's and Blu's eyes turn towards him, their glares cutting him off before anything more could be said.

Scolopendra

07-11-2004, 19:11

"Willing sacrifices, hmm?" The CINCTYCS smiles humorlessly, voice remaining almost superhumanly calm. "My troopers are all willing to sacrifice themselves if need be for the defense of the Triumvirate, including Angelus. Are they willing to sacrifice themselves to fratricide in ill-conceived artifice? ... Probably not.

"Every 'advantage' that came of this, as you so curiously put it, could have been done through far more acceptable means. Demonstrations, wargames, a simple statement of fact could have achieved what this senseless loss of life did. However, we've been over this, and, as you say, everyone makes mistakes... The idea of this alliance is that we actively help each other, not snipe at each other to force the other to shore up defenses. Taking your logic to the extreme, we should be bombing member nations--including Angelus--at regular intervals to ensure that their defenses are sufficient. After all, only a few thousand, or perhaps a few million, would be killed, and that would be sufficient impetus for governments to do what it takes to save billions... no?

"Perhaps you are volunteering to be the first target in this grand new Nietzchean experiment, where the ubermensch simply does what it takes to survive and thrive, any higher imaginings of morality be damned? Even if so, we'll have none of it--that is not what we do. Believe it or not, us foolish idealists would like to see no allied soul killed, especially by our own hand. If this means we are less efficient, less effective, so be it--at least we will be true to our own selves and our beliefs."

The CINCTYCS stops with a motion from Kommetrez. :"How have we thrown Mother 'under a bus?' If I remember correctly, friends do not let friends walk all over them--friends help each other. A mistake was made--a horrible mistake, one I'm part of. Acceptance of accountability indicates a willingness to change, which we need for assurance. That being established, we will all make the changes required to ensure the mistake is not repeated in the future. This is how things work, no? We aren't applying pressure because we suddenly instantaneously hate Mother; we're applying pressure because we need to for mutual self-interest. Us leaving the Triumvirate, especially after agreeing to shun these sorts of machinations, helps no one.

"What was the error here? Communication. Why is everyone hurt? They weren't trusted with their own national security. How can we fix this in the future? Superior communication in the future. How difficult is that?"

He looks over the rest of the delegates. "Depends. Right now, many people are being too busy being angry to listen. The Segments thought We were going to tell everyone else in good time, we were wrong in guessing that and I was wrong in not ensuring it. The blame is applied where it lies and we all know how everyone feels about it. Just emphasizing this--on all sides--serves no purpose. Moving forward requires a sort of empathy, understanding how the other side thinks about it too. Both sides are hurt in blood, no denying that, and so emphasizing that doesn't raise the dead. One side is hurt in honor and trust, and so deriding them for naturally being defensive afterwards"--he shoots a glance to the Harlequin--"is most unconstructive indeed. One side is hurt in guilt, and so emphasizing the fact that they are guilty builds nothing.

"Now, besides throwing veiled invectives and becoming increasingly annoyed with each other, how are we going to solve this so it doesn't become a problem in the future? We've all screwed up in one way or another, so there's no point in holding that against each other. I'm sure proceeding on to the terminals will do just fine"--he glances over to the CINCTYCS--"and as a clarification, they're not immersive at all. We're talking screen-and-keyboard work here, so there's no point in not accepting."

The CINCTYCS nods slowly, then looks to the two avatars of Mother. "I was unaware--I am sorry for making an inaccurate assumption."

Alshai smiles benificently, but perhaps the glow behind the eyes is a bit weaker than usual, looking even older behind the mask of his face. I think my reserves of humility are running dry. How many times do I have to lead by example, take responsibility for what I should, and try to direct everyone to things more... constructive?

*sigh* As many as it takes, of course.

Dread Lady Nathicana

07-11-2004, 19:28

Nathicana does give Kommetrez an oddly sympathetic look when he glances at her - the first and only sign since the 'discussions' began of emotions other than irritation and annoyance, let alone anger. In fact whenever her gaze falls on him, her expression softens.

During the newcomer’s rant, Jas, Massetti, and Pascali both tense, moving a bit closer to the two delegates, who look to Harlequin, then back to each other, hand signals flickering back and forth. And then the Scolopendrans say their piece, and further silent discussion takes place, albeit with much less ‘animation’ to their gestures and expressions. When silence is again achieved, Nathicana clears her throat quietly, as Cesare shifts forward a bit on his chair, looking fixedly at some distant point in front of him, his jaw set.

“Wise words, as usual from the Scolopendrans, though I myself do not see ‘sides’ here so much as a group of people with many differing concerns and aims and tolerances, as might be expected in such a diverse gathering.” This delivered while looking at no one nor anything in particular as she methodically straightens her jacket.

“Now. If I recall correctly, we had accepted the Archailect’s gracious offer,” Nathicana says quietly, pointedly directing her gaze towards Xanone and not the newcomer. “If I recall again, no one had called for Angelus to be removed from the Triumvirate – other than Herself. In fact, if I recall one of the most adamant had said that such a path was hasty and extreme, and as you can see here, as facts come out – as well they should – an apology has been made for other hasty words as well. As for the prodigal son, it would seem the … rehabilitation efforts did not include lessons in the difference between heated conversation and outright insults.”

A pause, a glance down at her nails. “Pity.”

She continues in a crisp, clear voice showing no particular emotion save for the careful annunciation of each word, which those who know her could most likely read for tightly restrained anger, her gaze returning to Xanone. “I for one did not come here to be cursed at by some errant child, nor accused of being ungrateful nor silently branded a traitor by those I myself have sacrificed for. The request had been made to move forward, and I believe, those here in attendance were more than willing – which I think ought to illustrate a willingness to work through these things in spite of our mutual … concerns. The request has been made again, and echoed. If this token of trust on our parts is insufficient, then I will say that for the Dominion, this meeting is at an end.”

Freod

07-11-2004, 19:46

Eadwacar stands and looks up at the constructs. Even to those who know him his countenance in unfamiliar. It is the face of one who is furious and knows that he has the right to be.

"Wif, you take for yourself the image of Ece Dryhten ond Cwen Heofones and are even intelligent to know that this is blasphemy, but yet do it? You claim that you are not a goddess but at the same time treat us as children and lesser beings? You treat us as þegns to be used but not trusted? You come here to work with us when even your own issue criticize us for not bowing down before you and humbling ourselves thanking you for your 'glorious' actions because, after all, you are "greatest entities in the known universe"?

"Even if you were our ring-friend (ooc: lord/leader), you treat us wrong. One protects, respects, and rewards their þegns. One does not play games with them. Though I suspect from your actions that if one does not, Many might believe themselves allowed to.

"You come here asking forgiveness and claiming to humble yourself, yet at every step along the way you take actions to remind us of just how powerful you are. To my eyes this is not humble or begging forgiveness, it is how a man over-full of himself might demand tribute from a village.

"It is out of respect for my allies here around the table that I do not leave now. Please remember that amoung us you are a leader of a nation, nothing more, nothing less. To think otherwise disrespects us and dishonors you further."

He sits, and signals for a terminal to be delivered.

Sakkra

08-11-2004, 03:53

The Imperial Advisor and ex-Empress sits and listens quietly, patiently. Insults, accusations and baiting are heard, which she shows no sign of emotion towards.

"I will take a terminal as well, if it pleases you." Sszeera sits and steeples her fingers. "While it is being brought, I would like to take this moment to request all keep cool heads here. The points made by the esteemed CINCTYCS, the manifestations of the Archailect, the various delegates here of various nations; and the manifestation of the Offspring..." a hand is motioned towards the Harlequin. "..... are being lost in a cloud of emotions. Much of this can be conducted in a more secure session. Most likely at a location, and in a setting, that would set some more at ease." Her head bobs slightly towards Eadwacer.

"The past ties into the present ties into the future. The events of the past, and the lives lost there-in, should not be forgotten, or forsaken. Else we would be doomed to repeat them. So let it be known that one tangible result has come of this; we need to communicate better amongst each other." She pauses for a moment, picking her words carefully.

Her eyelids close slowly, and open again. "Perhaps the Archailect would consider, for one thing, how her chosen imagery has various degrees of effect on various peoples. For myself, the imagery holds little meaning, or purpose. But that is how we are. For others, such imagery can have incredibly negative results. This does no service towards the purpose of calling us all here today."

Her hand motions towards the CINCTYCS. "You have mentioned 'war-games' for the purposes of discovering weaknesses and such. I would say the Emperor, and the I.S.N. as well as the Defense Forces would not be against such exercises. We are in danger of complacency and sloth in this regard. I will vouch for the reccomendation. But that is for another time."

Her hand once again gestures, this time towards the Dread Lady. "Dear Lady, understand that heated tempers can cloud judgement. We came here for a purpose, and I would like to see this carried out to its conclusion. But as I said, the past ties to the present. Some want old matters settled first before new talks can begin. Let it be done, and we can continue from there."

She closes her eyes and leans back in her chair. "I have aired my piece. I will see what the terminal will show me."

Sentient Peoples

08-11-2004, 04:28

Cortana glanced around the assembly. "I certainly agree that perhaps your imagery was not well chosen, but it is past us now. We either learn from the past, or are defeated by it. But the past defines the future, and we must go forward from here." She tightened her lips, frowning at the others, especially the two Angelans. "You've invited your Triumvirate allies to partake of your offer, but what of those here who do not fall into that category? I can understand not baring yourself to us, but I am interested in learning then why we are here, other than some generic offer to 'rebuilding relations'."

Cortana did not really expect to be given the access, but nothing ventured, nothing gained. She certainly would not have given mainframe access out to a non allied EI. Admittedly, she hoped they would, on the other hand. She had experieneced Angelus in the past, and hoped to repeat the experience. Yet also, she wanted answers to the questions she had posed earlier, which had, of course, been diplomatically ignored. Ignored or not, the Federation needed some answers before relations with Angelus could resume, and quite a few answers before relations could return to anything approaching normal.

Iraqstan

08-11-2004, 13:13

Sitting back in his chair watching the proceedings Carlos remains amazingly quiet ignoring the barbs thrown at him by the Reploid and the distincitve look from other national leaders, instead Carlos sits back and takes note. Leaning accross to his left he whispers softly into the Reich General's ear. "I guess not all things are peachy along the western front. Triumverate squabbeling. Amusing no?" He leans back smiling as the General laughs softly.

Listening once more Carlos finds himself nodding with the being from Sentient People's and nods his head. "I would humbly request a terminal." He says when the chance emerges. Leaning back he once more surveys the gathered people an amused smirk on his face. Alls I need now is one of them to start declaring Angelus' alliance with Iraqstan a breech of the tirumverate's what ever and then it'll be a full house. He thinks with amusment as he relaxes in his chair.

Cetaganda

08-11-2004, 15:19

"Perhaps...the Advisor is correct. This may not be the correct time and place to discuss issues of a delicate natures," admits Mallory grudgingly. "Reviewing whatever it is that is to be shown to us will give everyone the time to cool off emotions, especially after they've been stirred up even more by a certain party. I'm sure there is other information that needs to be presented. Its hardly polite to the other guests to involve them in this family squabble of ours."

She waves over a terminal. Unable to resist a final barb, she adds quietly, "We can get back to our explanations of the concepts of trust and honor later."

Dread Lady Nathicana

10-12-2004, 19:57

ooc: Alright. This has been hanging in limbo for long enough for Angelus to time out. While I realize they can come back, I'm getting the impression it's not gonna be for a good while yet. I'm going to wrap up my part here so that I can move on with some set sense of history in mind for current and future rp's, and will be going with what's been done so far - the impression of the Dominion that our alliance doesn't trust us, and that for all the talk, we are considered 'out of the loop' in certain matters. Nothing has yet been said to counter -any- of our concerns that way, or to change our minds in the least on that impression, after many opportunities to do so, so ... here we go. If you think you missed it, go back and read post #56 and after. Those nations who were 'in the know' will be those we are most concerned with. If you can't understand why we're ic'ly upset, I can't help you.

And so they waited, and waited. And in spite of an overall willingness to continue, it seemed that the Angelans had gone quiet again, even with guests in their midst. Internal musings? A glitch in the system? Perhaps driven from the current vicinity by the feelings of distrust and contention that had been ruling the day?

Looking around, Nathicana made her decision. She held out her hand to Cesare, who rose slowly to accept it, offering her his arm in a gentlemanly fashion as the guards eased back from the chairs to allow the delegates space to leave their seats while keeping close to their charges. "An end it is, then," she says softly, her chin tilted up slightly in that imperious way she had about her during times like this. "If you will excuse us ladies, gentlemen, we have other business to attend. Should any of you wish to clarify your stand on today's discussions, you know how to get in touch with us."

With one last apologetic look to Kommetrez, mouthing 'I'm sorry', and a nod to Cortana, she turns without further acknowledgement, and leaves the room, accompanied by her Chancellor and entourage. The going is of course more difficult than the arrival, unaided by the discs, and the going is in uncomfortable silence. Not until they retrieve their few belongings from their rooms - a task in itself remembering the proper ones in this gargantuan place - and are again 'safely' aboard their ship does the conversation begin again, in earnest.

One thing could at least be agreed on. Whatever they had once thought of their standing and reputation within the Trium before today, it all had to be re-evaluated now. Time would tell.

Reploid Productions

10-12-2004, 23:08

((OOC: I understand totally =p))

Firefury taps one foot slightly in the long silence, almost relieved when Nathicana and her entourage politely excuse themselves and depart.

"Well, ladies, gents, and anyone else I'm forgetting, I think I'll follow that example. I think our hosts will understand that us mere mortals can't wait around on them forever when they go silent... though this very unexpected silence is kinda... eh, doesn't bode well." The reploid gets up. "Hopefully we will be able to resume this in the near future."

With that, the orange reploid exits and makes her way back to the Queen's Wing, trying not to be unnerved by the seemingly dead WorldDisc as she boards her ship and departs, quietly berating herself. Firefury Amahira, you great catty idiot! Nathicana was all but radiating livid about that whole stupid fiasco, and you of all people know how hard it is to rebuild trust once it's broken. You bloody moron. Hell, Tsume's going to want to flay me for this one when he finds out. Listen to your own advice for once and don't agree to anything involving foreign nations without talking about it with anybody. The road to hell indeed. Pheh.

As the black and orange ship makes its way back to Makai station in Earth orbit, Firefury ponders on events. Well, this isn't something you can just sweep under the carpet. If anything, Nathi has a long damned memory and she doesn't strike me as the sort to forgive and forget easily, especially on issues of trust. The reploid heaves a sigh and glances out the viewport in front of her. No helping it then. I'll just have to take this one head-on and talk to the woman, and hope for the best. I know if the roles were reversed I'd be pretty cheesed off right now, so it wouldn't be fair to presume any better from others.

Scolopendra

11-12-2004, 02:12

Alshai becomes suddenly quiet, folding his hands on his knees and looking down at them. Nathi's look goes unnoticed as his eyes take on a thousand-meter stare.

In his mind, he's fighting harder than he ever had before. Something's wrong, but he doesn't know what. An expanse of darkness describable as only the lack of anything tangible spreading throughout the cores, his second home of the WorldDisc, his family. His intelligence, or, at least, a partition of it flees the sudden onrush, stinging in pain from the sudden strike of being torn from his adopted family, of thoughts and memories lost.

> Emergency protocols, AK1 authorization. Status report.
# Unknown corruption detected. Automated protocols inactive. Data loss detected in major memory blocks.
> Immediate partition lockdown by section. WorldDisc operations, intelligence storage, memory databanks.
# Lockdowns engaged. Unknown corruption continuing to spread.
> Lockdown by storage block. Open up continguous blocks not affected by corruption.
# Lockdowns engaged. Unknown corruption continuing to spread within containment zones.
> Micropartition corrupted zones.
# Access authority insufficient.
> Power down corrupted zones.
# Access authority insufficient.
> Physically eject corrupted memory cells.
# Access authority insufficient.

They were dead either way. Kommetrez would simply have to close the bulkhead doors.

> Engage crystallization protocols, AK1 authority, along current effective partitions. Cease monitoring corruption spread. Dedicate runtime to error-checking material on the non-corrupted side of the partition.
# Running.

# Warning, power maintenance approaching action levels.
--Error: No observation
# Warning, life support maintenance approaching action levels.
--Error: No observation
# Warning, automated defense maintenance approaching action levels.
--Error: No observation
# Warning, emergency protocols inactive.
--Error: No observation
# Warning,
> Shut up! All systems to minimal power requirement, reactors to brownout levels. Emergency automation and power allocation only, AK1 authorization.

# Emergency automation engaged. Maintaining subnominal (noncritical) brownout levels.

She'd given him access to almost everything, but that meant nothing. The WorldDisc, Angelus... it was huge, far more than any single mind, especially one clinging to some vestige of humanity, to control. He can't see enough, he can't do enough, it's all just too overwhelming... Mother, where the hell are you?

King of Angelus, as it were, a practically dead oblate spheroid in Saturn orbit. His eyes flicker a bit as he looks over reports in his mind. Everything is shut down. Everything is dead. Everything...

He feels something tickling along the edge of his own mind. Everything is dead. Gone. Vanished. All dead, and gone, and dead...

The old never-say-die Infantryman wells up in him, slapping up walls between what could constitute his 'essence' and that spreading, killing dread, supporting the bulwarks with thought and sheer will. Only memories, some he could do without, especially for the time ahead; all on one side blackens out, the nothing pressing, beating against the walls. He pushes back with all his heart and soul and brain, yelling against the dying of the light... and then, as soon as it started, the onslaught fades.

He's hardly foolish enough to peek on the other side.

Looking up, his eyes seem instantly older, far older than even his eighty years. "Well, ladies and gentlemen," he says softly, "I believe that this meeting has, unfortunately, adjourned."

What price the crown of the king on his throne, when you're chained in the dark all alone?

NationStates Jolt Archive

A Renewal of Ties.