NationStates Jolt Archive


Celebrations (A new King, and a new beginning) (Open)

Weyr
26-04-2005, 04:55
Prologue: Commencement
WYe City
Central Pacific
Terra

It was a drizzly day, and the clocks in the command center were showing eight. Technicians came and went, updating reports, bringing messages too important to be transmitted via the Net. High King Kira li'Starhavven stood beside General Markowitz, supreme commander of the Weyrik Self-Defense Force, watching the holoprojection of the battlefield around Wye City. It was not the bloodiest field in the world, but it had taken millions of lives in four years nonetheless. How many had died at Paradigm and how many were just so much dust floating on orbit, was another matter. There were no monuments proper for commemorating two billion missing or dead. The High King did not dwell on the past, not this time. She listened quietly, seemingly not breathing, until much of the command center's staff had forgotten she as there.

"Sir, they're withdrawing."

"Targets out of synch range."

"Lady's grace, we did it," Major Lina Irtayel whispered from behind the King.

"Siegrad reports hostiles out of range."

"Cannon seven out of range."

"Milady, this looks like a full withdrawal. Should we peruse?" General Markowitz inquired, turning in his chair to face the King. He seemed the only one to remember her. The King did not mind; it showed the soldiers were more interested in their duty than in protocol. Protocol was something best left for the civilized world, and thus out of the warzone that had engulfed so much of what was already being referred to as the First Distributed Kingdom of Weyr.

"No, general," Kira responded. "Let them go."

"Geostat function's been restored!"

"On main," the general commanded instantly. There had been to satellite reception over eastern Weyr since the start of the war, four years ago and in what seemed to be another word entirely. For the first time they would be getting a look at the 'occupied' section of the FDK.

"Looks like we have a new mountain range, general," Lina chuckled, as the holoprojection changed.

"I don't believe it, we've finally won," someone whispered.

"Believe it," the High King patted the technician on the back. "We've survived."

****

There were still fireworks going off down in the city; she could see little flares blossom where rockets lanced into the darkening sky. Rumble of guns carried through the twilight air, firing a salute that would light up the island for a night and a day. She liked the upper battlements of the Tower of Kings. No one ever came up here, and midget trees and growth were slowly making their way between the ancient eternastone blocks that formed much of the slender spire.

"We won, Fir," she said quietly, hearing his footsteps, his slightly laboured breathing. He was in good shape; a thousand steps didn't bother him, it seemed. "At least, I think we've won. I don't know what we won, but it's gotta be better than the past, right? Otherwise, why did we bother? If the past was better than the future, why do we always go for the unseen? We know what everything we did results in. Why do we keep poking the universe? We've killed enough people to make a new continent, and we still do it because, I don't know, we just do it. There's no reason for us to make new ships. There's no one who can compete with the translation drives we've had a hundred years ago, but Sirra just dumped twenty billion in a new project. This didn't have to happen. We could've just sat behind our walls, and lived on, and colonized new planets, maybe even left this system once again. We didn't need to waste ten million lives on that piece of shit," she waved her hand in the direction of the new mountain range, rust-red in the light of the setting sun. "I know what I said. It wasn't needed. We could've survived, just sat with better defenses and lost not a single life."

"Do you really think that?" Fir crouched beside her, looking at the lights of Wye City glimmering below, then at her. She was never like this. What had happened in that tent. They had all seen her level the staff, and incinerate the demon leader, but what had really occurred? He wasn't sure. He was right beside her, and he wasn't sure. Neither were the remnant of the Mormegil, as far as he could tell.

"I...." she tried, avoiding his eyes. She looked at the Weyrika insignia on his black uniform armor. "No. Maybe," she shook her head. "I don't know."

"Then why do you ask if it was worth it?"

"Because...because it could've been different. We could've done something," she to stop all this."

"Could we have? I don't know either. But, for what it matters, at least we are free from a million angry demons," he smiled.

"Don't call them demons, please," she glanced at him for a moment, quickly turned her eyes back to the dark plain beyond the city's bounds.

"What should I call them?" he blinked. She never got this angry this fast before, either.

"I don't know, but they're not demons. They're just people, maybe different, but still just people. They've been lied to, and abused, and shoved across the world, but they're people all the same."

"Maybe."

"No maybes, Fir. I know they're just like us. They're what we could've become, would've become if we'd wanted to take out our anger on the world." How could she explain what she had feltthere. Felt, that was the word. She hadn't seen it, or heard it, but felt the reasons for the why and how of this entire mess, for two centuries of pointless fighting. They were driven by the same thing that had caused the First Civil War, until now. She hoped the bastard was gone, but wasn't sure. The Staff wasn't a weapon, had never been meant to be a weapon, no matter how often mortals invoked it as one.

"I wouldn't have become like that."

"Yes, you would've," she turned to him once more. Of course you would have, I would have, too. All of us have it in us. "Except that instead of spears and morphs we would've had terraton cannon and stinkbombs."

"Do you really think we are so alike as to destroy the world for no reason?"

"Do you know their reason?" Kira turned sharply.

"Look," he sighed. "Why don't you tell me."

"Alright. Okay. Really?"

"No, I probably wont get it," he laughed softly. "I am sure they have their reasons, whatever they are. So what do we do now?"

"Will you marry me?"

"Do you promise not to nag all the time?"

"Only part of the time," she squeezed against him. "See, they're actually.....I guess.....they're....well....." it felt so nice to just sit here, the two of them, high above the world. The River Wye vanished into the south; flowers blossomed below and before them; city lights glowed warmly. She wished she could be here all day, with Fir all to herself. "Well," she tried again. "They're us. They're one of the parts of Cloudhavven, the one in the Book of Twilight, thrown into another world and left for themselves...."

***
Chapter 1: Ceremony

"And to conclude the day's news, the High King has announced a date for the official ascension. Timing it with the celebration of the sunreturn festival, the first in four years, Kira li'Starhavven ahs made sure that the ceremony will recieve plenty of publicity. The Octagonal council has voiced its support for the young King, the first aspirant to the Staff of Twilight since the disappearance of High King Alicia li'Starhavven nearly two hundred years ago. Foreign dignitaries may have been invited, although the actual attendance roster...."

Subject == Ascension (Coronation)
Source == FDK.OHK.cnt
Destination == FL.All
Encrypt == none

With the war in the Kingdom finally over, the time has come for the First Distributed Kingdom to

She threw out the draft, and tried another. This was definitely not going well. She didn't want to sit here, writing a letter no one except maybe a low ranking secretary was going to read, when she could be getting drunk off her ass outside, amidst the millions across the small isle in the central pacific celebrating their first ever victory against an enemy of any size and, more importantly, celebrating their continued existence despite repeated attempts by said enemy to wipe Weyr off the map. High King Kira li'Starhavven, for that was her title even if it was not technically official yet, was fairly sure she would get to get as drunk as she wanted later. She sighed, and tried to concentrate, as a slight wind caressed her unkempt crimson hair, carrying with it the tinge of yesterday's little rain.

"This....screw it," she reread the text on her screen. "Good enough." No doubt Foreign Minister Gibbs would read it and add corrections to it anyway. It wan't the greatest piece of international correspondence ever written, but it would do. If a foreign dignitary wanted to come to Kira's ascension to the throne, or the Staff, as it was properly called, they could, and she had at least invited anyone who wished to attend the celebrations.
The Ctan
26-04-2005, 09:59
She would no doubt be surprised by how quickly such a letter reached Mephet’ran’s attention. When one was put on the list of nations the C’tan was interested in, the otherwise unwieldy and slow bureaucracy of his Empire could operate at virtual computer speeds.


To Her Majesty Kira li’Starhavven, High King of Weyr

It is both surprising and delightful to finally see a semblance of resolution to the Wyerik Civil Wars (I would say a resolution, but I'd rather not jinx it), and I would be most pleased to attend the celebration of this joyful occasion at the earliest opportunity.

Mephet’ran, Emperor of the Eternal Necrontyr Empire
Cryhiathva
26-04-2005, 11:45
Hlar Stood, his tall thin form fresh from the fighter. With the Recent Possibility of another War of the Trinity, tensions where high in the Internal Ministry. The External Ministry on the Other hand had not been called to assist in war, so where able to get into a rutine.

"Minister" Came the yell of his Second Wingman. "We have something here for you." He said handing him a Green Crystal Circal. He smiled, reading through it quickly.

"Hm, see if you are able to send Phail." He said offhandly.

"Yes Minister" Came the reply as he hurried off.

We understand you are having a Corination or something along those lines, we are not sure what you Mafari call it, where you officially name your leader. We are requesting to send Phail, pronouced P-hail, not Fail, a Center Wing Pilot.

From the Wishes of Hlar.
The Atheists Reality
27-04-2005, 05:50
<<-To Her Majesty Kira li’Starhavven, Future High King of Weyr->>

Congratulations on your impending coronation, your majesty. I myself am glad to see a return to a semblance of order for Weyr, as are many of my people. The Atheist's Reality shall be sending a senior diplomat to observe these proceedings, and hopefully persue dialogue between our two nations, which, fingers crossed, will lead to a great, and enduring friendship between us.


<<-From Lord Movodor Alarin, current ruler of The Atheist's Reality->>
Weyr
05-05-2005, 22:02
OOC: Apoligies for the bad and possibly confusing post

To Her Majesty Kira li’Starhavven, High King of Weyr

It is both surprising and delightful to finally see a semblance of resolution to the Wyerik Civil Wars (I would say a resolution, but I'd rather not jinx it), and I would be most pleased to attend the celebration of this joyful occasion at the earliest opportunity.

Mephet’ran, Emperor of the Eternal Necrontyr Empire

Datestamp == 05.22.305
Encryption == Null
Destination == Mephet’ran, Emperor of the Eternal Necrontyr Empire
Source == Kira li'Starhavven

The civil wars are most definitely resolved, I'd have to say, at last for the next few centuries. I can't say the Kingdom's back to normal, because peace isn't a regular occurrence here. But it'll be an honor to see you again, milord. I suspect the ceremony will be much simpler than is usual for such things in the world, but there’ll be a smaller reception afterwards which you may find interesting.

We understand you are having a Corination or something along those lines, we are not sure what you Mafari call it, where you officially name your leader. We are requesting to send Phail, pronouced P-hail, not Fail, a Center Wing Pilot.

From the Wishes of Hlar.

Datestamp == 05.22.305
Encryption == Null
Destination == the Wishes of Hlar
Source == Office of the King
Subject == Ascension

The FDK is administered by the two elected legislatures, and has been closer to a confederated republic than a true monarchy for several centuries. The High King is more of a ceremonial title than an official position, although this may perhaps change in the future. Nonetheless, I would be honored to receive your delegate at the ascension ceremony, and would love to learn more about your nation during the recetption afterwards.

Kira li'Starhavven

<<-To Her Majesty Kira li’Starhavven, Future High King of Weyr->>

Congratulations on your impending coronation, your majesty. I myself am glad to see a return to a semblance of order for Weyr, as are many of my people. The Atheist's Reality shall be sending a senior diplomat to observe these proceedings, and hopefully persue dialogue between our two nations, which, fingers crossed, will lead to a great, and enduring friendship between us.

<<-From Lord Movodor Alarin, current ruler of The Atheist's Reality->>

Datestamp == 05.22.305
Encryption == Null
Destination == Lord Movodor Alarin
Source == Office of the King
Subject == Ascension

I would be honored to receive your ambassador. It is indeed good to have the Kingdom somewhat sane for the first time in some years. The proceedings should take much of the day, but there will be a reception for any dialogue you may wish to pursue following the formalities in the Grand Hall of the Tower of Kings.

Kira li'Starhavven

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
[size=1]OOC
Words in blue are spoken in Weyrik
Words in green are spoken in Querik ((Weyrik dialect of Quenya))
Words in black are spoken in English


Wye City rose in tiers on the side of Mt. Weyr, facing south, away from the great north pacific continent of Haven and towards the great south pacific ocean, whose shores touched the lonely island three hundred kilometers south of the city’s edge. Wye River cascaded down a myriad of canals and waterfalls amidst the soaring spires, through locks and between docks and massive overhanging cranes that reached to touch the water, to wind between the scorched Westrealm waste and the blasted Eastgard, nurturing a thin swath of fertile land that was all that was left of Eastgard’s seemingly-infinite grain fields. From the south, it seemed as though the city sprang into being at the edge of the mountain, rising like a single pillar towards the sky until its spires were lost in the clouds. From the north, one had to swing around the peak of Mt. Weyr and thus suddenly come upon the mitaril-steel and diamond towers from the east or west.

The sun blazed down on the top tier of Wye City, promising three hundred and twenty degrees Kelvin before noon for much of the city. The wind that took away the clouds died. Insignia of the fifty odd distributions that made up the Kingdom hung kimply from their poles. The slight breeze that rustled the few trees still left south of the city avoided the tall spires like the plague.

Apple blossoms swept up on the sudden blast of warm spring wind. It tempted the crimson-haired young woman with a promise of something new, then swept away forever. It couldn't last.

She had adopted a sort of mildly interested expression, nodding once in a while, smiling a few times, and trying to look half as bored as she felt after what was not the sixth hour of delegates and representatives giving their speeches, each the same as the next. It had probably been easier when there were eight prefectures and thus only eight people, not the fifty-something distributions with more delegates than they really needed. And, there was the crowd, and the people watching on telecast, and the faces in the windows of the tall buildings facing the square, those still standing after what had happened four years ago. Sakura Square wasn’t made for these things, originally. Originally the entire thing was supposed to have been held in Council Hall, except that structure, too, had been incinerated four years ago. And Kira wasn’t sure even the Grand Hall could have fitted these many people, and it would have certainly sent the wrong message to those who cared. At least the trees offered some shade, and there were more than enough booths with anything from refreshments and up.

Thoughts kept creeping into her head that she didn’t want. They weren’t the thoughts you were supposed to get as part of stage fright. She really didn’t have to be here, not while there was still some doubt she supposed to be the next King, she thought, sitting in the slowly growing shade of the uppermost slopes of Mt. Weyr, which looked not nearly as menacing as it did from the plain two kilometers below. In theory, no one except Skai and maybe a few Mormegil knew, and they would stay silent. But could she really trust them to stay silent. It was the same damn doubt, the one she really didn’t need. And the best part was…

No, that wasn't what she did. She couldn't question everything. It was the price of being human and mortal; one of the prices. She had promised herself she wouldn't ask these questions anymore. So the FDK was changing, and she could maybe nudge it along. There was a nobility, after all, and one that had teeth. She had teeth, too. It was a strange thought. The first High King in generations that had some power, and the ability to change things. What did she want to change, then? Or what was in need of change? The FDK had an amazing historical inertia. But maybe....

"Then, with no Objections, it is my Honour to Announce the Kira ni Alicia i Ash li'Starhavven na Werida, High King of the First Distributed Kingdom of Weyr!” it was strange how you could feel every capital letter in that one sentence. There had to be a speech, or something, and, well, it was what she was born and bred for, Kira reminded herself....

***

Sakura Square still showed signs of the day’s rally, even in the diminishing twilight. Fireworks arced over the city’s towers, kilometers above the plain below, for what was the seventh night in four years.

The Grand Hall seemed full, but really wasn't, because the world was in the Weyrean concept dependent entirely on thought and belief, and if belief dictated that a hall be full, then full it would be. Weyrean relativism was a force in itself, manifesting itself in many things and thus becoming almost unnoticeable and usually unimportant up until Kira walked through a door and fell down three flights of stairs that appeared in her apartment one fine morning to replace a closet.

After the sweltering day, sweltering even by Weyrean standards, the cool of the Great Hall made for a welcome relief. Kira chose to slip in without the fanfare she knew was normally expected. Let them stew, she chuckled darkly. It had been too long a day, though she suspected there’d be complaints about the billions of credits lost to parties across the continent and maybe on Mars as well, or at least on that part of Mars controlled by the FDK. They could all stew as well; it’s been four damned years without a single reason to celebrate anything. If only the southern independents could be relied on to not start lobbing shells at one another and at Falme for more than a year; but she suspected that was too much to ask. She’d need to speak to Nikolai today as well, she noted, stepping quietly past the two Mormegil at the entrance to the Hall. She had wanted to get every person of any importance in the FDK here, if only so they could actually get to talk in person and maybe get into their heads that there was more to the FDK than just their interests.

Lady Iris stalked the shadows, taking a bit of pleasure in making the Mormegil uncomfortable as she passed by. She didn't want to talk to Alvin, despite his advances to let Alvanista handle Ares-bound traffic, commerce, and everything in between. The man was a sleazebag; ready to abuse anything he touched. Unfortunately Alvanista had the resources to enforce its will on her much weaker distribution.

"Milady," she cringed at the voice. Damn. "I assume you've considered my offer."

Lord Alvin was almost her height, and twice her width, which made him all the more imposing in his official uniform. She turned to look at him, meeting his cold eyes. Iris was an artificial construct; her BIOS was a rod logic array. But over that there were infinite layers of krist that made her for all practical purposes human. She felt small, and the logic core told her she was small. Ares was the backwoods of the FDK now. Her millions of nominal subjects were split between two planets, with nothing credible backing them except the good will of a single relatively minor state and the High King, whose commitment seemed marginal at best.

"Milord," she inclined her head. "I have. And the answer is still no."

"No?" he arched one think eyebrow. "No is such a strong word, milady. You have reviewed the documents I had my staff send you?"

"Of course," she nodded.

"Ah, Lady Iris," Kira interrupted. "Just the person I've wanted to talk to. You’re the Iris, yes?”

“Yes,” she smiled despite herself, though wondering why there had been nothing to announce the High King's entrance. “I think. We’ll synch when we’re together at Landing again.”

“Great,” the High King nodded. “You’ll pardon us, milord.”

“Of course,” Lord Alvin drew back.

“Thank you,” Iris whispered. “Spirits, what a bastard.”

“I don’t know why you hate him so much,” Kira shrugged. “He seems perfectly decent. Hungry?”

“Me? Hungry?”

“Damn, I keep forgetting,” the High King scratched the back of her neck. “Well, we gotta do something. We’re a downright pair of conspirators here in the corner. So, everything going according to plan?” she took Iris under the elbow, practically dragging her into the light of the Grand Hall, filled with the gathered dignitaries. Kira had decided if someone wanted to talk to her, they could find her. She’d need to talk to Mephet’ran, and actually sort of wanted to see him again, and the delegate from the Reality, but this couldn’t wait.

“Yes,” the noble currently in charge of the entirety of the FDK’s martian holdings replied. It’d have to change both she and Kira knew, and assumed anyone with half a brain could figure out. No distribution could be as large as the Ares distribution was promising to become. “I don’t like how we’ve sated the locals. We should’ve just went on our own resources and not sacrificed anyone.”

“What’s done is done,” Kira considered the buffet table, one of the several placed between the pillars of the two rows leading to the empty throne at the head of the massive hall, which still didn’t look full, or empty, but somewhere in between. She didn't like what the original colonization council had decided, either, but she hadn't been High King then, either. “But everything else is fine?”

“Well, the engineers are going insane trying to set up a water system, and we’re not nearly ready to be self sufficient, and most of us are living in the old Hornet, but other than that we’re fine as long as the Aumani don’t act on their xenophobia and try to kick us out.”

“Will thirty thousand SDF help with the last one?” Kira inquired absently, considering her drink. She figured she had a few minutes before someone would notice the High King had entered the hall.

“So the rumours were true?” Iris’s eyes widened.

“You’re a part of the FDK now. We don’t like to see our own pushed around,” there was a strange glint in Kira’s eyes for a moment, Iris thought. “I believe the major’s somewhere around here. National policy and all that, but she knows what you’ll be getting.”

“Milady,” Iris bowed. “It’s….”

“Please don’t do that,” Kira muttered. “It’s like I have bad breath or something, that everyone has to turn away from me. It should be enough to pacify Aumanii concerns about our security, and if it doesn’t they can quite honestly piss off. We’re not going to turn the place into a damned military camp; unless your people think differently.”

“It might help with the tyranids…” Iris mused. “Maybe.”

“When pigs fly,” Kira shook her head. “Not before then. Last I checked you’re far far away from them. Now, will it be enough to keep the Aumani happy, or will I need to ship another thousand soldiers?”

“No, to both. It won’t keep them happy because they also want to conquer all of Mars from what my sources tell me, and it won’t be necessary to send any more soldiers because we won’t have the firepower to hold them off anyway. But the have all the diplomacy of a behemoth in rut, so at least they won’t corner us politically.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Kira picked up another glass, leaving her empty one, beginning to slowly circulate through the hall, under the hanging tapestries and banners of various clans, families, and houses that old High Kings had come from. “Not all bullies are idiots. I think they’re planning something, and if they pull it off they’re going to own that much more space.”

“With Mars as it is, their only opponents are NDA and Trium members, and there are not many of those. They can steer clear of the big alliances and still get a good portion of Mars, no doubt about it, but I don’t think we will lack warning when they try for global dominance. Wow, he’s really giving me the eye.”

“Who?” Kira inquired.

“Alvin. Ugh,” Iris shuddered slightly. “He’s like a leech.”

“Well, at least he’ll have something to think about when the news goes public tomorrow,” Kira smiled slightly, before taking another pull from her glass. It wasn’t the small, decorative thing one usually saw at such gatherings, but a real container for storing decent quantities of drink. Practicality trumped show when it came down to such matters as food.

“Spirits, I’d love to see the look on his face when he hears about what you’ve done. I still can’t think of how to thank you.”

“Why don’t you tell him,” Kira suggested.

“That is an idea,” Iris nodded. “Thank you.”

“Don’t worry about it, please,” the High King shook her head again. “But if you could compile data on possible expansion sometime by the end of the year…”

“As you command,” Iris grinned. “So where is the Major?”

“Lina Irtayel, she’s….” Kira looked around, trying to see for a moment over the heads of the various dignitaries. The High King wasn’t nearly as tall as her slender frame made her appear. “Ah, right there.”

“She appears very young,” Iris noted, considering the lolnely figure in the military uniform leaning against a thick column, already drawing back to her formal shell. “Can she handle the job?”

“She’s the reason the right flank didn’t collapse during the last offensive,” Kira responded. “Probably the reason I’m still here. I think she shows promise, and Markowitz agrees. See what she can do. Besides, as you said it won’t matter if anyone with ambition will decide to invade.”

“No,” Iris nodded soberly. “Milady.”

“Milady,” Kira returned the gesture. She sighed, and looked to see if anyone else she needed and wanted to see was within reach. So far so good, and she hadn’t even been particularly bothered. It was easy not to be noticed amidst the heavyweights in FDK politics.