NationStates Jolt Archive

IC:

A rather stiff, unyielding message is relayed to Weyr via various intermediaries; the message is left open, readable to all, which perhaps is in itself rather...rude.

The message is a relatively simple one; ICEL essentially demands that Weyr send vessels for 'inspection' - specifically, vessels using a propulsion system unusually similar to the drive used by ICEL. ICEL doesn't appear to be interested in the ships, though - just the engines.

[OOC: Bit bare bones, but I can't remember enough to reconstruct the actual message, and I didn't make a copy as I usually do. Or, at least, I can't find it if I did. Bleh.]

OOC: Heh. No problems. As long as it's backed by a good IC reason, I'm perfectly fine with whatever gets thrown at me.

I assume you mean this Magnetic Impetus (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Magnetic_impetus)?

Weyrean EM tech sounds somewhat different from what you use. For one, it doesn't remove atmospheric drag. For another, it's viewed as a nice curiosity that works on a few planets but is completely useless on a lot of worlds. Anyway, Weyr only uses it on planetary shuttles servicing Terra, on transports on a military world in the Jennai system, and on a handful of vessels in Paradigm. Everywhere else it's cheaper to mass-order gravDrive-equipped shuttles and feighters. Anyay....

The Imperial First Distributed Kingdom of Weyr fails to see why it is required to submit to the hostile and threatening demands of a foreign entity, especially when the said entity has had no prior contact with the Kingdom of Weyr.

However, as a sign of good faith, the Kingdom of Weyr will send two (2) magDrive-equipped shuttlecraft to the Iluvuaromeni Commonality of Everlasting Light for examination, along with representatives from the corporate body that has developed the said shuttlecraft and drive mechanisms. The craft -must- be returned in working order, along with the representatives. Please provide the time during which you would like to pick up the said craft and personnel, or a location at which those vessels may be dropped off.

Sincerely,
Weyrik Board of Estimates, Foreign Committee

I refuse to delete my post, and will come up with a rant about my technology and the way I look at ignores based on 'I hear he uses this tech, so I'm gonna ignore him without first finding out if it's true or not' in a few minutes.

http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?p=7619452#post7619452

[OOC: Um. I don't ignore Star Wars/Star Trek-based nations. They simply never existed in the first place, so far as I'm concerned. They're in this whole other universe. Why? Nothing to do with the tech! It's just not compatible with my nation and the way my nation see's the universe. As far as they're concerned, ion cannons would be useless in battle; nadion particles are fictitious at best and don't exist even in imagination at worst; attaining superluminal velocity via an AG system is impossible; and only a handful of known systems have Sentients (although I only accept that because I have allies who used to be based on Sol alone, but then expanded).

Why oh why? Because it's stupid to RP with someone who has a freakin' galactic empire when I have two orbital colonies and a landmass on a planet. According to my NS stats, I would be more powerful than virtually any of the 'galactic empires' that I've seen thus far. Therefore, they don't exist, as, in effect, it's godmoding (relatively speaking!).

I say relatively speaking because if such 'nations' (and they're not nations, but planets, which, in my opinion kinda circumvents the whole point of the game, whether RPing or not) only RP amongst themselves, then clearly they're all on relatively level-footing. But to use several planets worth of resources against a nation which is tied to a single planet, and only possesses a tiny fraction of that planet, is just... well, rude.

So, on the grounds that ST/SW nations have never existed so far as I'm concerned...they still don't. It's not a case of how well you RP. It's just the way it is.

For the record: I like Star Trek. Not Star Wars, though. That sucks. :P

...addition:

Uh - I'm not saying Weyr doesn't exist based on technology. Quite the opposite. I did a quick search on threads that Weyr is involved in; I see lots of involvement with SW/ST nations (I'm not sure which - I don't read those threads in depth ). Those nations don't exist to me. Ergo, Weyr doesn't exist to me. Simple as that. It's not a personal judgement. It's not even an 'ignore'. It's recognition of [i]incompatibility.]

((OOC: Does this mean no one who plays with Weyr exists to you either?))

Which is a tech-based ignore. Meh, up to you. I'm gonna go through it point by point...gives me something to do.....

ion cannons would be useless in battle

Ion cannons were used as EMP weapons (and are used as EMP weapons in SW), and have been scrapped about a century ago from all Weyrean-designed ships because they were damn expensive and not as good as native Weyrean kinetic cannon. You're shooting someone with charged particles. Dunno what's wrong with that, aside from the amount of power required to use such a weapon to do real damage. Ions are plasma, and in space you're not dealing with atmospheric dispersion so you can keep the particles in a more-or-less focused stream. It's possible, just not very efficient.

nadion particles are fictitious at best and don't exist even in imagination at worst

Weyreans don't really care whether or not nadions exist, and I have no idea what the hell they are. Considering that one of the nations Weyr RPs with has a population of vampires, and another uses wooden ships held together by magick to go into space, nadions are one of those things that no-one in Weyr really cares about simply because there's no reason to discover them. Aside from that, I don't think nadions or any other particles would come up in any RP enviroment I can think of. I preffer to keep my tech as "It works, I'm not wanking with it, so leave it at that."

attaining superluminal velocity via an AG system is impossible;

No idea where that came from, unless hyperdrives are actially anti-gravity sytems. In any case, Weyr doesn't use hyperdrives, although some Weyrean corporations might. Anti-gravity repulsolifts are used to get Weyrean ships off the planetary surface, and big ships can repulsolift off of a star's gravity field. Otherwise, most Weyrean subluminal travel is done via ion drives or 'chain drives' -- my version of "it works, so leave it alone".

Weyrean superluminal travel is done via translation, which has no scientific base at all. The closest thing I've seen to it is slipstream travel.

and only a handful of known systems have Sentients

Native sentients? There probaly aren't that many races in the galaxy, as far as I've seen in RPs, or at least it hasn't come up as an issue yet. Weyr originated on Terra/Earth and then expanded. The reason why a race of pseudo-elves wound up on an artificial island in the Central Pacific is another story....

Because it's stupid to RP with someone who has a freakin' galactic empire when I have two orbital colonies and a landmass on a planet.

The Galactic Empire, of which I am a part of only because the alternative was to get destroyed, is actually smaller than the nations who have territories on Mars. IC-ly, Weyr would never call on the GE unless it was faced with a similarly-sized alliance. Weyr doesn't trust the Galactic Empire. OOC-ly, the Empire probably planted some nasty bombs in my population centers in case I decide to leave.

But to use several planets worth of resources against a nation which is tied to a single planet, and only possesses a tiny fraction of that planet, is just... well, rude.

I use my actual NS population, and even there my effective population is closer to one billion rather than the 1.4 billion claimed by NS stats. About one third of Weyr is located on a small landmass the size of New York state in the central Pacific Ocean. The rest are located in the Paradigm system, on the other end of the galaxy, with most of those living either on the planet Paradigm or on a giant space station/trade outpost. A few million odd Weyreans are located on scattered planets in another dozen or so systems, in conditions similar to those described in Red Mars (Robinson). There are Weyreans living in other nations or on more-or-less terraformed planets, but they are fiercely independent and would fire on a Weyrean fleet as easily as on an ICEL fleet. My allies and non-allies can claim what they want, but it would be OOC for Weyr to call on them for help in nearly any case. IC-ly Weyr really dislikes most of its allies and thinks the lot of them are psychotic, xenophobic fools.

For the record: I like Star Trek. Not Star Wars, though. That sucks. :P

It's a matter of preference. I find the idea of using ST technology in NS ludicrous (I'm talking about cannon ST Federation, Klingon, and Borg, not 'future' or 'special' races that pop up for a few episodes and are never mentioned again). No real ground forces, no body armor, no heavy weapons, and no specialized warships kind of put me off. Then again, IMO cannon SW is incredibly easy to wank with.

*Giggles a little as Semir-chan once again goes on before checking details beforehand*

Ahum, yes. Amusing. What did I want here? Oh, right.

Ion cannons were used as EMP weapons (and are used as EMP weapons in SW), and have been scrapped about a century ago from all Weyrean-designed ships because they were damn expensive and not as good as native Weyrean kinetic cannon. You're shooting someone with charged particles. Dunno what's wrong with that, aside from the amount of power required to use such a weapon to do real damage. Ions are plasma, and in space you're not dealing with atmospheric dispersion so you can keep the particles in a more-or-less focused stream. It's possible, just not very efficient.
Not that this is in any way important for RP purposes (Yes, I recognise Ion cannons as working, just as I recognise FTL as working), but... For realism purposes... An Ion cannon fires charged particles, as the name suggests, yes? That is, you strip electrons from the nuclei and fire a stream of either them or the nuclei.

Now, as we all learned in school, what are equal charges doing when interacting?

Right. So, sucky spacedy weapon. Really sucky.

Canon Star Trek is a gazillion times wankier than canon Star Wars. It's not as designed for war but the technology, including the military technology, is far superior. Have you ever seen the episodes where Star Trek forces fight against forces using the kind of weapons used by most other Future Tech settings and by Modern Tech? A full-scale atomic blast leaves a Federation Starship, even the old Constitution-class ones, essentially unscathed. Laser weapony does essentially no damage of any kind. When pressed, the ships can travel through time. They have fairly long range capabilities to transport matter. The Federation has access to a device that makes ships both undetectable and able to pass through solid matter. They can create intelligent life. I'm not saying I think Star Trek tech is wankish. If a good player has Star Trek tech and plays with it reasonably, I'll gladly play with them. But it is more power than Star Wars if you start comparing the actual strength of weaponry instead of just how martial it looks. Also, the specialized Star Wars vehicles are still horrible designs.

On a side note, the basic difference in design between Federation and Klingon vessels has to do with specialization. Federation vessels are designed to utitlize warp engines to maximum efficiency. I could explain how that works but I already feel like enough of a nerd as is. Klingon ships, being warships, are designed to present the poorest possible target by presenting a minimal frontal hull area compared to the overall area of the hull and volume of the ship.

((OOC: Does this mean no one who plays with Weyr exists to you either?))

[OOC: Ooooh, complicated question. I'm in the middle of rearranging my 'RP policy txt file', which used to be a jumble of seperate things I'd decided on in the course of RP. IE, what conditions would I ignore in, how would I react to godmoding, etc. I've not finished rearranging the jumble into something readable yet, largely because I'm trying to fix my computer without a format at the same time...

But to answer the question; no, that does not mean that no-one who plays with Weyr exists to me. In fact, Weyr can exist to me, under other specific conditions; but I wouldn't be the one to initiate the contact, if that makes sense. I'm not going to out-and-out ignore people because they aren't compatible; what I will do is strive to avoid RPing with them in any meaningful way. For example, I might involve myself in a touristy-thread, where an ICEL citizen is visiting a Weyrean settlement, and so on. But I would not (unless by OOC mistake) initiate diplomatic contact, as that could have far more far-reaching results.

* * *

Regarding Weyr's responses;

1. Ion cannons would be useless in battle against ICEL ships, at the least, as they would serve only to provide energy with which the vessels would propel themselves (this would take quite a bit of explanation; suffice to say the radiation-shielding [which is bizarrely missing on most space vessels on NS] is designed to use varying types of radiation to produce electric charge).

2. Nadion particles are fictitious particles which, in Trek canon, make 'phasers' possible. As they realistically don't exist (and actually, if I recall correctly, can't exist), that kinda rules out the possibility of phasers or 'phased energy' weapons in general. Whatever the hell they are. This is part of the reason why I do not interact with ST-based nations; the other reason being shields, of which only one type do I accept - namely, solid-matter shields, or perhaps AG 'wedge' shields which aren't really shields but are deflectors - but I digress...

3. This was a reference to 'warp' drive. Warp drive works by compressing space/time ahead of an object, and expanding it behind. The effect is that the local area of space is moved at superluminal velocity (although nothing is actually moving, presumably, as this produces a tasty paradox), but the object itself does not ever under any circumstances move faster-than-light. In fact, it doesn't move at all, relative to the 'bubble' of space it exists in - which is the 'warp field', the AG field acting upon space to produce the 'warp' effect.

Moreover, due to the paradox, I strongly suspect that this would not really work in the manner described in ST at all, but would instead simply crush the ship (probably almost to the degree of a singularity) at the centre of the warp field. In point of fact, ICEL scientists 'are' working (eternally - they'll never succeed - and this is currently off-camera, soon to make an appearance as a background piece in a thread near you!) on a method of devising point-singularity projectors (PSPs) using this technique.

4. Nono, we've ICly just not encountered any non-Sol-native aliens outside of the Solar system. That's not saying much, however, as ICEL has only been outside of Sol once. Therefore, until such contact happens, any that do exist...might as well not. I can't see any way that that can actually work anyhow; and all attempts I've seen invariably collapse into powerplay alone.

5. It's not about population. It's about access to resources. Owning whole planets is an advantage to anyone who can build robot miners and factories. Set the robots to work, mine a planet, bang. More resources than anyone with less territory. This is why territories were fought over: not to control the populations, but to control the land.

Further, noticing that Sol is overpopulated already and deciding to just take over whole star systems instead of trying to find a way to exploit what's already been RPd into existance or is indeed real in reality is, in my humble opinion, somewhat boring. Anyone can say 'I claim such-and-such a star system!' - but where's the fun in that? Much more interesting, I think, to play inside the established game area. No?

Not to worry. I didn't think anyone would agree on that (or most anything else I have to say) either.

6. See 5.

7. Either/or. SW and ST are just not compatible with NS, IMHO. Not unless everyone uses it, or the RP is done inside a select group who all use similar tech. But that might as well be done off-forum. B5 tech is far more suitable - or around that level - as it allows upwards and downwards compatibility.


As a little note...

Star Trek wasn't really about war, even when it was about war. Therefore, not very much detail was given regarding how wars were really fought by the Federation. But I suspect it's safe to assume that, considering the conflicts the Federation is supposed to have lived through, they did indeed have dedicated warmachines - it's just we never saw them, because they were never critical to the plot. Which is why I don't like Star Wars; in Star Wars, the warmachines ARE the plot. Kinda.

EDIT - For some reason, whilst reading that last coupla sentences over for errors, I 'heard' George Lucas say:

"You can't HANDLE the plot!" Yes, I'm weird. - I heard that, DA.]

[OOC: Anyhow, it occurs to me that this time would be better spent RPing. Thus, since Weyr did go to the trouble of replying - although how they managed to do read the initial post so long after I edited the thread is beyond me - I'm willing to like, be a daredevil and ignore my usual rule. Especially since Weyr doesn't seem to be quite in the bracket I'd thought; I just don't have the time to read all these threads. Which is good, really, but sucks at the same time.

Anyhow, up to you, Weyr. I can ressurrect the original content of the first post in a summary to prevent confusion and, voila!, resume if you wish.]

OOC: You killed the post as I was typing up a response. I'd love to continue this, especially since my entire exchange with Gramal wasn't as threatening as your single message. Then again, Weyr's fleet is busy with the Rebellion, so it can't stand up militarily against anyone at the moment.

IC:

"The Commonality finds the response from Weyr satisfactory in content and intent. This will no doubt be taken into account with regard to the upholding of the Law.

"The course of action suggested is eminently acceptable. The representatives will, of course, be treated in accordance with all the rights and priveliges extended to all Sentients under Iluvauromeni Law regardless of birth class, gender, creed, or species. Further, the craft will, of course, be returned in utterly spotless fashion.

"This transmission contains an underlying unencrypted memetic-sealed data packet, one-read-only. It contains the required acknowledgement code for transmission to ICEL MISAT 44-f-G, currently stationed in cislunar space. Fightercraft will be dispatched to escort the vessels from cislunar free space via the Commonality Earth Space EEZ to the proper installation, of course; microwave or laser-guidance systems are preferable to ensure safety standards are met, although an exception may be made in this instance.

"The Commonality applauds Weyr in its decision to show an exemplary example to the international, stellar, and interstellar community via this display of a willingness to pursue peaceful conclusion to a difficult situation."

~ Empress the Supreme Commander Rialla ux-Rihad II


[OOC: I'll just meander up and rectify the deleted one. Somewhat.]

"Do you ever want to just take a PSP cannon and frag someone's homeworld with it?" Victoria muttered.

"Very often," Josiah Willard Gibbs, Consul-general of the Kingdom, chuckled. "Most of them are based on Terra, unfortunately."

"Honestly, do they think they are dealing with some fools from Mississippi?"

"Maybe. All of these ancient empires have an overblown self-image. We're getting one, too," the consul-general remarked amiably, sipping from his cup of tea. "May I inquire as to what brew you use?"

"Of course," the Regent smiled. They were back to the normal preliminary small-talk. Tea was so much nicer to discuss than some new empire.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The two shuttlecraft rose rapidly into orbit, propelled by magDrives built a decade ago by the soon-to-be-defunct Prisma Starworks Inc. The corporation had fallen on hard times -- there just was not enough demand for magDrive craft in the known multiverse. At two hundred meters long, the two craft were small in comparison to the gravDrive-equipped planetary freighters that were currently carrying cargo from Earthbound Station, placed in geostationary orbit over Weyr. where a massive interstellar freighter had docked some hours ago.

The two shuttles each locked onto the ICEL MISAT 44-f-G, and sent the aknowledgement codes provided in the packet.

Sleek black fighters swept in alongside the freighter almost immediately the acknowledgement code is sent; they are quite odd-looking. Firstly, they are visible only when an image is enhanced, for they are obviously painted with low-reflection black paint; not a single gleam anywhere, nor any lights. When an image is enhanced, however, they can be clearly seen to be vaguely reminiscent of a spatial compass: a spherical centre is surrounded by four structures leaping outwards into ever-so-slightly curved points, each facing a different way; there is the plane horizontal, the vertical, and two diagonals. This appears to be an outer structure sealed to an inner sphere, which is presumably that which houses the pilot. There is no 'front' or 'back'; these are true space combat craft, obviously meant to always be orientated 'forwards' - which is, in fact, every direction.

A scan of the fighters reveal that they, too, are electromagnetically propelled. They have tight little powerful EM fields that flicker and flash into various configurations rapidly, expanding and collapsing in various ways; they are not clumsy nor slow, but sleek - and probably exceedingly deadly in the correct hands.

A friendly female voice which sounds as if it is issuing from a long tunnel fires back a message aimed at what looks like an appropriate comms cluster on the hull of the freighter, in tightbeam-laser: "Welcome to ICEL Space, ladies and gentlemen. I am SSP-1, although my name is, obviously, somewhat prettier than that. - Anyway," the voice is somewhat flippant, which is perhaps odd, "follow us down to 230,000ft, and then follow in the M-wave directional when told to do so by the military air traffic controller. Unless there's a technical difficulty with this, it'd be best for you to stay within fifteen hundred feet of the lead fighter - she's the one sitting off your bow - and we won't interrupt any of the shippin passing through. It's a bit busy at the moment."

Busy doesn't quite cover it; small, identical freight vessels with the letters 'IsnCo' marked on their hulls in several scripts are passing in and out of the little exclusion zone referred to as ICEL Space (which is in fact free to all non-military vessels anyway) at pace, whilst there are only a few larger, obviously civilian, freighters in the area. A massive electromagnetic signature in the area denotes the presence of at least one capital ship - or, more likely, a large number of capital ships grouped close together.

The fighters, perhaps a little reminiscent of strange flying claws reaching out on three axis, move into what is quite clearly a guarding formation around the two vessels.

The visuals were wasted on the Weyrean pilots -- the two freighters didn't have proper viewscreens, and those weren't used for normal navigation in either case. Their passives were another story. The three parasites and the other ICEL craft were showing up on passive scanners beautifully.

"Gotcha, SSP-1. I won't even try to pronounce the tag of this bucket," the Weyrean pilot in the 'lead' vessel responded, although there was no way to really distinguish between the two craft. For form's sake, their superstructures -- the squat things at the 'rear' -- had long strings of numbers denoting manufacturer, designed, and owner. "You could've just told us where to go."

The Weyrean magDrives were quite primitive compared to those of the ICEL parasites, but they did the job. The two cylindrical freighters took the lead parasite's cue, dropped to the designated height, though the pilots had to quickly do a conversion into meters. Nothing to it -- just a few nudges on the controls.

Suri exchanged a glance with the trimensional representative of Sarah, who shrugged, and even allowed herself to note, "The original plan would've been more interesting."

Suri couldn't help but grin; the original plan, put forward by the intel types, had suggested that the fighters roar in at full speed, order the Weyreans to the required height - then knock out their EM fields, sense-blind them with white noise, and drag them down to the base inside the MI fields of the fighters.

Naturally, Command hadn't liked that suggestion. This one was far more dull, but much more...friendly. The Council had been specific: friendliness was the watchword. This was an execution of law, not hatred.

She wondered if the freighters had visual capacity; she had never heard of an Iluvauromeni ship without a TVC 'visor (at least one), but foreigners could be unusual. Perhaps they preferred mere vocalisation.

Giving a sigh, which came out as a disgusting belch in this vile green perfluorocarbon liquid which filled her lungs and provided a higher oxygen-to-blood transfer ratio than simple air, she 'spoke' again to the freighters - although they only understood her because the fighter's onboard computer translated the rather difficult-to-understand gargling into clean sentences.

"The m-wave beam will guide you down. It's all a matter of protocol. There are specific ways we do things, and, considering the air traffic over our territory, it's really a good idea to follow protocol. We've not had an airborne collision in two years, and expect not to have one in at least another fifty. Or so the probability calculations tell us."

On cue, the microwave beam springs into existance, lighting a path all the way down to the ground, where a large strip of tarmac awaits. There is nothing on the surface at landing - nothing constructed, anyway. Nothing constructed and visible. At least, not in white light. IR examination reveals three large structures, roughly one hundred metres to the north west from the western centre-edge of the landing strip; further, there are doors opening, and vehicles issuing out. They appear to be camouflage-toting, open-top, low-altitude (as in evidence by the open tops) skycars - but as they are military vehicles, they also seem to carry some sort of tubular weapon on the rear. It looks like an automated turret of some sort; it looks automated simply because it is unmanned and does not appear to have any method of control. Either that, or its entirely fixed.

The fighters peeled away before the freighters landed; and without even a farewell. No booms announce their departure, so they are headed away at merely subsonic velocity.

"Gotcha," the pilot responded. The forward scanners locked onto the microwave beam. "Nice welcome." she chuckled, watching the activity below on her IR scanners, before switching out of the command Net.

Four clicks sounded on the back of her neck. Small neural links disconnected, separating the alchemist from her craft. She was the only living being on either of the two freighters -- the second freighter was slaved to her own vessel. The master pseudo intelligence system sensed a lack of sentient pilots, found the landing coordinates, rechecked the M-wave beam, took the two cylindrical craft down with mechanical precision.

Hydraulics whirred. The two cylindrical vessels halted to hang a meter above the tarmac, light reflecting strangely off their hulls. Normal Weyrean freighters were built to carry freight modules. These two were made to carry passengers as well as cargo, and thus had a cohesive hull. Polarization switched off -- it was the only shielding the two freighters possessed. Six thick struts extended beneath each hull, touched the earth. Drives wound down, allowing the vessels to settle onto the ground.

"One more [expletive] kinetic and I get to file a pension," Kira chuckled, switching off the drive systems on both craft with the flick of a switch -- no point in having some idiot get fried by touching a loaded conduict.

The airlock seals hissed. The young alchemist pulled on her blue military jacket. It didn't offer much protection against energy blasts or kinetic impacts, but at least bullets could not pierce it. The outer hatch whirred, slid in and sideways. The ground was four meters down, which wasn't that big of a drop for her, not with the slight augs and entrained skills. She landed lightly, black boots thudding on the pavement.

Weyrean alchemists were not real thaumaturgs. They were closer to mundane scientists, studying the same molecular and atomic chemistry as their counterparts across the universe. Some, like Kira, could perform chemical reactions with a little thaumaturgic assistance, but what they did was based on precise science, and not tradition or force of will. Sure, Kira could turn a bit of pavement into a sword, but that sword would be made of the same material as the pavement from which it had come. Alchemy was a science, even if some of it had been adapted for warfare and profit. Making a simple gun, or turning lead into gold took years or decades of study and practice, and even then an alchemist had to pay strict attention to the laws of thermodynamics or risk painful death. The recent economic slump had created a large pool of moderately skilled thaumaturgs, so the Weyrean government was back to sending alchemists as representatives to foreign entities.

#tagged...

The skycars turn out to be more car than sky. They're eminently visible to white light detection - eyes - from ground level, apparently - just not from the air. The strategic implications are obvious; clearly, the white light is scattered somehow - although when they were moving, they were certainly visible as blurs.

Two of the three skycars are occupied each by three individuals wearing brown-grey uniforms made of a soft, almost fluffy-looking material; these are assuredly not designed to restrict visibility. Clearly. Otherwise the individuals would be harder to see. Two of the five individuals - all of whom are female - in these particular two skycars have stunning amber eyes, and marginally pointed ears.

They all wear small patches on their uniforms, sewn in: an anvil and a hammer is the insignia contained therein. Strips of material are attached to the tops of their shoulders, and, presumably, rank insignia is here apparent: only one person has three three-pronged stars on their shoulders (in this case, two on the left and one on the right), whereas four of the six have half of a three-pronged star on each.

The remaining skycar is occupied by two individuals: one wears combat armour of some sort, polished to a dull blue-grey sheen - he wears no insignia; merely the plain body armour (which is an entirely enclosed unit, excluding the head and neck), no signs of rank, branch, or profession. The body armour, actually, doesn't look very functional or useful.

The remaining person - also female, although the armoured one is male - has sharp blue eyes and slightly greying but otherwise auburn hair reaching down around her shoulders. The two men in the other group also have longer hair than one would expect in the military, but not excessively so.

The leading lady, however, wears a full dress uniform; utterly white, the two-piece suit flatters her form admirably - whilst also being cut in a manner that, at least in her own culture, is probably intended to project authority and strength. She wears no sidearm, and wears an eagle's wing on each shoulder; seven three-pronged stars are scattered along the wings. Her right breast is occupied with several campaign medals, as well as what appear to be decorations of some form: a hawk's wing in silver with a single blue ribbon, and two bright white star-shaped medals with two blue-white ribbons

She is not stunningly beautiful. Indeed, she just misses the mark of 'beautiful' at every oppurtunity - except for those strong, vibrant eyes. Her chin is too angular, her jaw too straight, her nose too large and long, her eyebrows too raised and arched by the merest degree - and she has a rather impressive mole on her right cheek, which must be equal to the diameter of the tip of her thumb.

With a soft voice - albeit one with an undercurrent of iron - she greets the Weyrean with an extended hand and a brief vocal welcome: "Welcome to the Commonality. I am Upper Echelon Flight Admiral Lees Duvaril-Dth'gar...and you would be?"


[OOC: Sincere apologies: computer trouble kept me away for a while, and due to lack of warning, I couldn't...warn you. Heh. Obviously. *g*

Back now, though.]

With a soft voice - albeit one with an undercurrent of iron - she greets the Weyrean with an extended hand and a brief vocal welcome: "Welcome to the Commonality. I am Upper Echelon Flight Admiral Lees Duvaril-Dth'gar...and you would be?"

"Alchemist Kira li'Starhavven," the copper-haired alchemist bowed at the waist, her words tinged with a slight accent, white-gloved hand firmly grasping the admiral's. "Currently employed by the Board of [expletive] Estimates." Her dark blue uniform was completely asexual, and maybe a size or two too big, with only the insignia of The Tower -- a mountain with a tower beneath and the rising sun above -- on the right shoulder for decoration. She straightened, reached into her jacket's pocket to produce a thin strip of composite the size of a thumb. "Access protocols, schematics, and a help file."

The Flight Admiral fought the urge to blink quickly; such a high level of compliance was utterly unexpected. Especially as it was...somewhat too compliant.

Surprise swiftly - and naturally, for one involved in military security many days of the week - turns to suspicion. With a dash of paranoia, she admitted to herself - deep down. Somewhat hurriedly, she fulfilled her own cultural obligations by inclining her head to what she guessed was the appropriate Degree of Welcome - which is only a little dip of her chin downwards, in this case. Respect is one thing, for it is earned; welcome is another, for it is expected. She therefore considered - as did all her people - that welcome was the lesser of the two, and thus (ironically) less respected.

She also strove to not allow that faintly disapproving arch of the left-side of her lips which she knew was so close to asserting itself; she strongly disapproved of expletives.

"Very helpful indeed. I presume language datum is also provided? Terminologies vary between nations, after all."

"No clue," Kira shrugged. Her payment depended on the safe delivery and return of the goods, so she had to be nice to these arrogant bastards, and thus kept the small data card extended in her right hand, the black material contrasting with her white glove, although the good admiral seemed to have no intention of taking it. "Prolly the same one everyone else gets when they buy from the IntWeyr -- Anglish, Japanese, Arabic, Weyrik, and Sindarin. Maybe Chinese, Quenya, Russian...." she seemed to trail off, her long, pointed ears lifting slightly in thought. "Oh, and whatever language you guys use." The ears dropped back down to normal -- sticking out more or less sideways and back out of the alchemist's head.

"Mmm," the Admiral acknowledged, somewhat more quietly than the 'norm' established thus far as far as her speaking went.

She paused a moment longer before accepting the proferred object, handing it in turn over to a tech, who hurries off without a word. But her whole demeanour changes once that is accomplished, and she smiles more freely. "Now, then. May I offer you refreshments? I'm sure that such a long journey has taken its toll. And it would be most rude to turn down our humble offer of hospitality."

Her head tilts to one side, her hair slipping over smoothly in line with the motion. An eyebrow arches for a moment. "Oh, I almost forgot."

She reaches into a pocket, and then extends an open hand, a small object showing. "A memento," she explains.

The object is a small coin, golden in colour, with remarkably careful geometric etchings on its exceptionally shiny surface. It's clearly not currency, but a small piece of art - indeed, it bears no value. It's a little more heavy than probably expected, too - perhaps as much as a gram and a half, which is rather weighty for a coin that size - but its not supple, and so its not actual gold. Not pure gold, anyway.

"A gift from the Empress," the admiral adds softly, "in expectation of future gifts from the Commonality to the good People of Weyr."

"Oh, thank you," Kira bowed again, crimson hair flshing, accepting the...gift, and the offer. People generally didn't give alchemists anything. Usually, then would at best not bother an alchemist and perhaps even go as far as not to spit at his feet if they were one-God humans. Perhaps it was a good thing that she didn't get the idea that it was meant for the entirety of Weyr. Why would anyone give something like this to nearly two billion people? In any case, the item disappeared carefully into a pocket.

Lees was glad that the gift appeared to have been accepted as intended; she had felt the wording was too stuffy and too easily misinterpreted - what was the point of sewing seeds in one mind alone? But then the sociologists were ever more hot on this 'pond effect' that they'd been waffling about for decades; the sentence, as with many of her other statements, had been drafted for her. She detested such...such...

The word failed her.

She ignored an urge to sigh - a decidedly Iluvauromeni trait - and continued to smile. Almost on cue (which it was), a more comfortable 'groundcar' (also open-topped but lacking any weaponry) skittered to a halt a few metres away. Motioning slightly, she hopped up onto the vehicle herself, ignoring the scowl that threatened to spill onto her features. She didn't like to be comfortable when sitting; it didn't sit well with her upbringing.

Softly, "This will take us into the installation. You'll be blinded by the security network for about ten seconds - that's the law, I'm afraid - so you might experience some disorientation. I would suggest we go someplace less secure, but there is no such place for some miles, and we can't just redirect a Fancy at will. This is only a short-range vehicle, after all." Her wording is far more relaxed now; it has a quality which has the capacity to make the stiff-sounding earlier sentences sound positively dead in memory.

"Er...thanks for the warning," Kira responded, not a bit confused, following lightly into the car. They offered free stuff, and she had no reason to refuse. Besides, the ride was comfy. The job was technically done, although she did need to bring back the ships if she were to recieve the extra part of her pay.

True to the Admiral's word, vision ceases as the vehicle enters through a dark maw that slowly opens in one of the walls of the buildings. Optical illusion, no doubt, as a tunnel that wide - it had the look of a tunnel - could not be accessed so quickly. That is to say, there's no way a door could give access so fast without the skycar crashing into said door.

The lack of vision doesn't hurt in any way; the Admiral's voice comes through the nothingness of sight gently: "I can't see either. This isn't my official base of operations," strange how military types will always give away where they're not stationed, but not where they are stationed, "so I'm an equal security risk. It's more annoying for me than you, I assure you." And there is an annoyed undertone there: very annoyed. She hadn't expected the loss of sight, it's clear - although that does seem more than a little odd.

But vision returns quickly; a tunnel gives way to a bigger tunnel, and there is what appears to be an airlock. The skycar settles next to this structure jutting out from the wall - and just over there is what appears to be a monorail.

The airlock door cycles rapidly, the outer door (or inner door, from this perspective) opening smoothly even before the skycar settles silently to the ground. "The officer's mess," the Admiral explains, "is deep inside the base. Therefore, we'll not be going there, although it would be far more comfortable. More conveniant, though, to just bring refreshments to you."

The Admiral leads the way through the airlock, which leads out into a corridor. The corridor is, perhaps as expected, completely devoid of any character. Straight walls, straight angles, straight ceiling - dull and flat and grey.

Doors dot the 'landscape' down this boring corridor for some way; the far edge of the corridor curves off to the right, but there are no defining characteristics down there, either. And 'down' is right: the corridor slopes slightly.

"Third door on the right," the Admiral puts in, touching her hand to the wall next to the door and stepping back. It's intended as a polite you-first gesture, and internally, she ardently hoped it would be taken so.

"But didn't you just..." the alchemist blinked. "...I mean, if you don't work here...."

The whole place was so regular. It was like someone took a large vacuum cleaner and suched the life out of the place. She had the sudden urge to do something random, like climb up the wall and transmute the ceiling into a bunch of monkey bars.

"Third door on the right," the Admiral puts in, touching her hand to the wall next to the door and stepping back. It's intended as a polite you-first gesture, and internally, she ardently hoped it would be taken so.

"This one?" Kira asked, already opening what she assumed was the indicated door.

"Absolutely," the admiral confirmed.

The then opened door - which, although the Weyrean would not know this, was a rarity inside an ICEL base, and in fact marked this out to be a very high security installation indeed - reveals a room rather different from the corridor.

For starters, there is furniture. Even a potted plant in one corner, green to perfection, alive and vibrant with light blue flowers poking out between its leaves. It doesn't look artificial.

And there is a wooden table, an assortment of false-wood chairs, and two other doors (these are also false-wood, and white). The walls are, unfortunately, rather drab and grey; but the furnishings are pleasant enough.

"These are..." she paused for a moment, as if searching for the right word, "...guest quarters."

In point of fact, they are prisoners quarters (a fact that was not actually at all obvious) - but the Commonality is not known for mistreatment of prisoners. Thus these quarters are equally apt for welcome guests, as well as for the unwelcome variety.

The lighting appears to come from the ceiling, but the ceiling panels aren't especially bright. The room is pleasantly bright - for someone born in the tropics.

The admiral settles down at a chair, and appears to relax markedly. "I'm rather curious about some things," she 'begins', but then leaves the half-finished question hanging in the air, hesitantly.

"Oh?" Kira pulls up a chair, although she'd much rather be inspecting the plant. It looked so...pretty, and sorta happy. He stomach grumbles at the belated realization of the promise of food. It's not an audible sound, just a minor thing that she's gotten used to by now.

Suri's ears are not Human ones; they hear the growl, if only very faintly even so. She switches tack, unable to keep from smiling. "Yes indeed, but I think I know of a more important question. - What would you like to eat? Just about anything is available; all Crown Guard bases keep well-stocked, for obvious reasons. - No rationing here," she adds with a small, wistful smile.

"Er... Kira thinks for a moment. "Well...whatever you got," she says finally. Food is a serious matter -- you leech off people when offered anything, but with edibles youespecially gotta grab what you can get. It's not so much that there is a shortage of food in Wye, but that eating multi-purpose paste from public dispensers gets sickening after a while.

Suri smiles softly; she remembers days when food was scarce - or, rather, palatable food was scarce - in the Commonality, and very much recognizes the look in the eyes of the Weyrean. Nowadays microfood is much more tasty; the yeasts - not all the foods are made from actual yeast but it's always referred to that way, as yeast is the most pleasant of the micro-organisms used in the vast enclosed hydroponics areas in the AgLands - being grown in far better conditions and with superior...fertilizer.

Her lips move for a moment, and not knowing what Weyrean cuisine is actually composed of - she wonders: should the food be spicy or not?

Several dishes, of course, were already prepared. She decided quickly: two dishes - one a mild cheddar meal with no meat, one more meaty. The lamb roast was particuarly good, she knew; the base chef had been posted at her position at the Primary Nenya Airfield a few years ago.

She speaks silently into the small device sewn into her cheek, which, using laser-light, reads her lips (and the motion of the air around her mouth caused by exhalation) and translates the movements into sounds at the ear of the listener. Getting intonation into the words is tough - not anyone can use these devices, as a certain amount of discipline is required to puff the air out just right.

"The lamb roast and the cheese dish," she 'says' softly, in the High Nenya tongue.

"Well," out loud again, "I'll have a couple of dishes brought in, and you can decide which you like best. Or," she flashes a grin, "possibly both. One is..."

The door swings open as she speaks, causing her to halt. Carried to the table are two ordinary plates (no ostentatious silverware here), one with what appears to be a mixture of potato, cheese, and tomato - and the other with a leg of lamb, brussel sprouts (very green-looking and healthy, and a bit larger than one might usually find), cauliflower, peas...

But no potato on that dish. The aroma of the lamb could well be mouth-watering; there is a hint of mint to the scent, plus a few other smells not easily identifiable - no doubt local spices or herbs - and the gravy looks perfect (that is, without any easily noticed lumps).

The other dish, the cheese and potato and tomato mixed together in layers, has a much fainter aroma. It's clearly a vegetarian option - just in case.

She swallows, hard, already detecting the whiff of what smells like the stuff normally found in Tier One eateries, until it actually comes through the door. Either something is definitely wrong, or this is just their way of treating everybody, Kira thinks for a moment. Considering the events up until now, she shoves the thought away, blinks.

"So which one's yours?" the crimson-haired alchemist asks finally.

Suri blinks, faintly confused, before resisting the urge to take the cheese dish for herself. Nenyar are well known - in some parts - for their desire for the stuff, and the cheese consumption level in the Nenyar-dominated parts of the Commonality speaks for itself...

But that would be rude. She doesn't even look at the dish, not wanting to influence the woman's decision at all. "Both are yours. Of course, you don't have to eat both, and you probably won't really want to," although Suri knew she herself might well have done, if given the chance, "but they're both there for your choice. We weren't sure if you might be vegetarian or not, so the cheese and potato pie was provided as well."

"Thanks!" Kira is certainly not a vegetarian, especially since she grabs the meat-thingie and digs into it, completely ignoring the cheese plate. "So...I assume we're here for something besides food?" she asks, carefully manipulating a plastic fork across the plate, more used to chopsticks than to such utensils.

Suri leans back and relaxes in her chair, carefully averting her gaze from the eating. "No, not particuarly. I promished refreshments, did I not? These are refreshments. We can also provide something sweet to follow up with, if you so wish, and if you aren't expected on a tight schedule, there's a comfortable bed ready, as well. - We would not wish to send you home with our reputation for hospitality tarnished."

It couldn't be that simple.

Surely?

"Er..." she pokes the food a bit more. "Right." More poking. "Most people'd just <expletive> shove me out, so I can't really complain." Did they treat everyone this way?

Suri shrugs a little. Her eyes look everywhere but at the act of eating. "I don't understand entirely why that would be. I mean, everyone is entitled to food. Maybe not other things, in certain places and at certain times, but food definitely." She just doesn't get it. At all.

Why would the provision of food for a guest be unusual?

Suri, however, is not a sociologist. She is a soldier.

At this moment, at this point in time, she found herself glad of that little fact. Her day brightened, actually, marginally.

Or was it just the smell of the cheese, that did that?

Hm.

"It's more of that...well..." she thinks for a moment. Anglish is always a pain in the ass to use. "It's...alchemists are a cheap commodity, you could say. Hell, half the people I know'd do it for half pay." Which is perfectly true, though she doesn't go into the reasons for why that is so. Everyone knows, right?

Mildly shocked that someone would not be respected even if they did a good job at what they did - no matter how many others did it - Suri tilted her head to one side. "Do you mean...people do not respect a good job done, even if many people do a similar but possibly inferior job? Or..."

She cleared her throat, almost about to ask if the woman in question had failed in some respect. She thought quickly - "...is it just your profession that is treated so? The term 'alchemist' certain suggests a position of importance to me... so I must admit to not quite understanding how such a state of events could come to pass...here, we have the Guilds. They ensure that worksmanship remains ever important, and also ensure that everyone gets the respect they deserve."

She considers the admiral for a moment, brilliant green eyes thoughtful for a moment. "Respect?" she snorts. "There's a hundred million people out of work in the Kingdom. It's not like they really need to go looking for labor," she sets down her plate, perfectly devoid of any food. Guilds? Those're like clans, right?

Suri's eyebrows twitch upwards, although she tries hard to keep her expression neutral. "A hundred million?"

The shock in her voice is neatly evident. How could it not be? She doesn't speak for a moment, then-

Very quietly, the first sentence in a tone sounding almost embarrassed: "We have only a few thousand who can be considered unemployed. But that is not to say that a large number are not what you might consider to be unemployed. It is...difficult to explain. Here, we feel that all ought to pursue what they desire. We have the right to a living wage for life; so it is expected that something is provided, some service. It does not matter what that service is, so long as it is legal. The vast majority of the population is employed in small co-operatives - for various functions, some of them perhaps a little ludicrous. There are co-operatives devoted only to writing poetry, or song - although these are in turn often subservient to their Guilds in many ways. Our culture is...confused in some ways. We cling to many of the old ways whilst we reach out to embrace the new."