NationStates Jolt Archive

IT WAS a cool day in space. No clouds, precipitation deemed dramatically unlikely.

And so when the ice-cold, statically-charged hull of a ship smashed into the particles that compose the upper Jovian atmosphere, one might almost expect there to be heat transfer. One might expect there to be friction.

Yet the metallic hull, glowing as it is, and has been all along, remains as hot as it was before it 'entered' the atmosphere of that giant named Jupiter.

Roiling gases thundered around it, buffeting it this way and that at first, until its electromagnetic engines - or rather, their controller - caught onto the pace, got into the groove, delivered the goods. The ride smoothed out suddenly, the ship slipping through the suddenly magnitudes hotter surrounding atmosphere like a hot knife through flesh. The knife doesn't care much, but the flesh smokes and burns; the intense electromagnetic field charges the particles which interact with it, then fires them away at velocity; roars and booms ripple downwards.

An arrival is announced, the doorbell rang.

The ship itself is quite big, enough to hold at least a thousand people. And a thousand people it did hold; and not a single test had come before. Not here, at any rate. Permission had been quietly asked for - not directly, but in insinuations; would anyone mind settlers on Jupiter?

No doubt the suggestion had been scoffed at. But there it was; the 'ship' - in fact a habitat - slowly sunk downwards, en route to it's future home spot, miles below the upper confines, where things get truly interesting.

The ship had arrived with nary a whisper to foretell its coming, and with no dramatic flash of light, either. It had popped into being just several hundred thousand klicks from its Jovian insertion point, belly-up to the world, losing speed the instant it re-entered this particular universe fully. The T-drives spewed out X-rays in the usual intense burst - back on Earth, astronomists swear at screens some time later, annoyed at yet another false burster - and then shut down, probably forever.

The ship slowed still, eventually drifting into its insertion point; an exercise in navigational grace. Still, it's approach had been carefully timed: there were no ships or stations within millions of kilometres, rendering it as safe as possible. Small defence stations were not, of course, accounted for; but it was presumed that a civilian vessel belonging to a power known to be, at the least cordial to those in the Jovian system, would not come under fire.

Intriguingly, the ship does not appear to carry any weapons - not even defensive ones. And upon its hull blazes proudly two words:

Alcarinquë Andúnë

Jupiter, Various Drone Hives

<ORD 012/01> Isn't it cute?
<ORD 220/09> Indeed. A tad small, but.. Well, I guess they will stay there, given previous statements.
<OSD 105/05> Looks like it, yes. But, really. Small. Our thing in Neptune is a little larger, no?
<ORD 012/01> Indeed. Well, everyone starts out small. And I don't think the higher ups will have problems with it, so long as the freaks don't bring guns with them. And we all know how, errr... Irresponsible the Nenyans can be.
<OSD 105/05> Indeed. Well... Just received orders to check them on a regular basis. Finally something to do, now that things are running reasonably smoothly, again. I guess the factory craft is useful, after all.
<ORD 220/09> Despite being a collection of rubble and debris, yes.
<All> Heh.
<ORD 012/01> And I'm gone. Maintenance. The Superficial Adjectives... Would love to serve for a different ship. Something with somewhat less of a pointless and embarrassing name...
<OSD 105/05> Come to think of it... It would be hilarious to sic the Kaeneians or the NDA on them.
<ORD 220/09> Well, yes, but I don't think the higher-ups will. Would be a tad embarrassing.
<OSD 105/05> Hrm. Possible. Well, we shall see. But frankly, it is pretty much established that everyone who wants in needs to ask. And they just... Come in? Lacking in manners, as usual.
<OCD 015/08> Hrm.
<OSD 105/05> They wont use you. Well, they might do something, later on. Once they know a little more, or... Whatever. I shall be content to watch.
<ORD 220/05> Have fun.

The dull thrum rumbled through the ship from beneath Alaxip's slender toes, tickling her pads as her claws rumbled along with the vibration. "Hee," she murmoured softly, a moment of indulgence thoroughly allowed in her society.

Alshahn - or Tharash, by their own, increasingly less used name - were playful by nature, and their culture emphasized this; one did not bother overmuch regarding emotional outbursts.

It was a curious fact that the ship named in Quenya, built by Nenyar hands, and originally tested at Uranus by a Human crew, was in fact now entirely staffed by that little-known species of Iluvauromen: the Dethri. Tigerish beings with sharp eyes and sharper teeth and claws, the Dethri do not ascend to high positions in Iluvauromeni society, mostly through their own choice. The continuation of that choice, of course, ensures that the choice continues to be chosen.

To be clear.

Alaxip was Foremost, the rank highest amongst her kin here aboard this new, little city. It was the first segment of a larger, multicultural city; soon - relatively speaking - more 'ships' would arrive, and they would dock onto this one, producing little bubbles of people interlocked together. The modular hull design allowed for six other ships to connect to this one, and five more to each of those, and five more to all of those...

Expansion would, then, be simple. Indeed, it would be easier still when the construction facilities arrived, and the new modules could be built here, on Jupiter.

This place, naturally enough, was an extension of the Deep Sea Habitat Project started numerous years ago; MI had ended that project neatly enough, providing a method of keeping water at bay at extreme pressure. Next had come the tests on Uranus, which had continued for some months. Then - shocking most involved in the Jovian Sunset Project - the order had come to deploy the one ready vessel.

That had been shocking as the vessel had been slated for its voyage for five years time; Alaxip still was not clear on the reason for the acceleration of the Project. She had her suspicions-

Which were promptly swept into insignificance. The 'ceiling' - domed, arching high above them in this mini-city of two halves - was altering its molecular structure, as ordered, and becoming transparent. In actual fact, it was doing nothing, but being coerced through preset alterations. Alchemy at the sharp end, but in truth, a sheisters trick, and nothing more. The material was originally transparent, and not very strong or thick; it had been darkened by the addition of iron oxide particulates, which had given it a ruddy orange look. The orange had not been unpleasant to look at; but it had been more Martian than Jovian. Those particulates were now being shifted through the substance via the application of electrical current, shunted to certain points, where the material would be collected. The movement paid for itself; the material was wonderfully piezoelectric - a mere side-effect of something or other, she didn't recall what; she was an administrator, not an engineer. It was almost a shame it would not be in contact with the atmosphere outside - if it could have survived the stupendous pressure, it would have provided all their power needs for generations to come. As it is, they would have to rely on microfusion piles; not a bad situation, but the reactors were still exceedingly expensive to build, being bleeding edge as they were; they were also not yet as efficient as they would some day be, so despite sounding tremendously valuable, they really weren't. Dozens were required. Fortunately, they were, as the name suggested, small.

Living space was not, therefore, at a premium. The city was spacious for a thousand people, actually; each room was rather larger than most would be used to, especially since Tharash rarely stayed indoors. But the majority of the space went to the Valley, an area of greenery at the centre of the ship. The ship was divided into two hemispheres, being spherical in shape, with each of the two hemispheres divided by the engineering and control decks. The Valley was, therefore, also split in two; the northern hemisphere faced 'up', whilst the southern hemisphere faced 'down'. Powerful psuedo-gravity fields, augmented by rather weak AG fields (another exceptionally new development for the ICEL), ensured that the inhabitants were neither crushed nor tugged in conflicting directions.

But the view...

It was awesome. And so she just stared...transfixed...for the 'air' outside surpassed anything she had expected. Clarity of self can be a powerful tool for motivation, yet it can also be a powerful relaxant; she experienced a little of both poles, now, feeling the urge to run, to be free under this awesome sky...

But also just to stand, and watch, and feel.

* * *

Meanwhile, a small object dropped by the ship on its passage inwards slowly unravels, unfurls, and awakens. Bleating pathetically at first - it is not yet fully awake and alert - it confirms its position via careful relaying of signals back and forth between space and the colony. Settling into 'home', it shudders at internal movements - waking fully at last.

It screams into the heavens a message that is as soft as it is loud:

The Iluvuaromeni Colony of the Tharash Jovian Sunset bids greeting to its newfound neighbours.

Jupiter, Orbital Surveillance Hive

<OSD 105/05> Well, that was noisy. Looks like the higher-ups are right with their prejudices regarding this particular people. Okay... Relaying back... waiting... Damnit, what is the operator doing? Sleeping?
<OSD 105/05> ... Yes. Yes he is. Oh, for gods sake. WAKE UP!
<OSD 105/05> ... Okay. If you don't reply to friendly means, perhaps this will wake you up. Gotta love the coders. I just hope he's into furries. If not, well... I guess he wont be especially pleased by the images planted into his bra-
<OSD 105/05> Ah, there he is. Well, this is unnecessary, then. AAAAAAAND sent. Done. Now to watch on. I wonder if their little... Satellite, or whatever, is semi-sentient. Hrm. Gotta poke it.
* OSD 105/05 pokes.

Jupiter, Themisto

The Moon/ Base was seemingly busy. Things were running comparatively smooth, again. Contacts with the other colonies and the parts of DA Earth not at war had been established. Traffic was running, again. Even production had been restarted, albeit not exactly in excessive (Or more than marginally sufficient) amounts. The result of manufacturing being almost entirely concentrated on earth (Of course, this had been the very reason for them to built the factory craft now floating around Jupiter, producing... Things of varying quality).

Still, one wasn't exactly where one had been a year ago.

Ivanova muttered as one of Themisto's operators, Wolfgang Suzuhara, informed her briefly about the new arrival and the message Jupiter had received. The various incarnations of what was now the ICEL had never been particularly popular in DA, and she wasn't an exception. Unfortunately, her resources were, well, lacking, as was to be expected, given the circumstances she had to work with.

Oh well, I have to be friendly, then, I guess. Praise the Lord, for this is another burden I have to carry. Bah.

Positive Fact: By now, she was pretty much acknowledged as the primary representative of the Semi-Sovereign Entity of Jovian Angst, this allowing her to operate with a considerable lack of internal trouble, as the three other people who could effectively compete with her simply lacked the necessary will to do so.

Negative Fact: As wonderful as it sounded, the Semi-Sovereign Entity of Jovian Angst wasn't much more than a widespread collection of tiny spots with a distinct lack of resources.

Negative Fact #2: Ivanova wanted to sleep, and was, indeed, sitting in her bed, two plushies next to her. How she was suppose dto do diplomacy when her mind refused to do anything but sleep, she wasn't quite certain.

The former had to be embraced, the latter two were to be ignored.

"Okay then. Lets see..."

Composing the reply wasn't too hard a task, given Ivanova's lack of sleep. She was too tired to actually care much about the form, so she just wrote (Well, dictated, or even more to the point, thought) something.

Admittedly, it wasn't exactly first (Or second, or third) class diplomacy, but it should bring the message across, which was better than nothing.

From: The Semi-Sovereign Entity of Jovian Angst
To: The Iluvuaromeni Colony of the Dethri Jovian Sunset
Subject: Arrival/ Neighborhood/ Who the hell do you think you are?

"Congratulations and welcome to the high-radiation/ pressure paradise that is Jupiter (I would point out that you are the new neighbor, though, not we).

"Anyway. I would like to point out several things: First of all, it looks like you didn't really watch the news, lately. Jupiter's kinda tense, and it is expected that new arrivals, no matter how renowned they are, ask before showing up. It's a matter of basic courtesy.

"Now, it is kinda obvious that you failed this part. Admittedly, having looked through some examples of your origin's diplomacy, I can't say that I'm terribly surprised, so I will forget about it, for now. After all, what is done cannot be changed, can it?

"As such, for more important, and less formal matters. Given that you are now, well, here, we will have to, ah, incorporate your colony, or home, depending on your point of view, into the basic Jovian system. The geopolitical, not the astronomical. For this, I would like to have some, ah... Basic discussions, especially with regards to the ICEL's intentions for future expansion, as well as to the basic parameters of its presence, with regards to size, defence, population, economy and the likes.

"If such could be arranged, preferably with an overview of what the ICEL's intendtions with regards to aforementioned matters are, I would be most pleased."

Sincerely and with the utmost respect,

Susan Ivanova, Head of the Councils of the Semi-Sovereign Entity of Jovian Angst

Iluvauromeni C-Space, Q427-A-2 (ICotDethri Jovian Sunset, Jupiter)

{-and something poked her satelite. She frowned at the intrusion, and, without thinking, poked back harder. Milliseconds tick by.

I should probably say something, Tatya realised, scratching at her scalp. So she fired back the first thing that came to mind:

"What the hell was that for?"

She was not a diplomatic unit.}


* * *

Iluvauromeni C-Space, Q14-F-1 (IDSS Trooper of Paths, nr. Vilya Elenosto)

[{"-and so, that's exactly what they said. I didn't believe it for a moment, of course, so I told them-"

"Shut up, would you, Silvia? Someone's poking one of my satelites."

That statement was greeted with a silence. Of course, the silence was relative. There was still the reverb-chatter of a hundred fragments of Silvia's Self, catching up with the primary slither, but one came to ignore that. Unity came soon enough, even for the youngsters.

Tatya sighed at the lag. From here, she could do nothing. But her fragment out at the Colony would likely have already responded-

"Never mind."}]

* * *

Private Dwelling of the Foremost, Dethri Jovian Sunset, Jupiter

Ear scritching, contrary to popular belief, is not always pleasant. However, on this occasion, popular belief won the day; Alaxip positively purred at the pleasurable touch right on that spot, behind her ear. Had the contact been made by a potential mate, she would likely have-

Well, that was beside the point. Even though the machine which carried out the task now was not wholly satisfactory it was very adept, and she felt quite relaxed.

The day had been a warm one, full of the normal business one might expect in office; complaints here, complaints there, complaints everywhere. She had not hunted today, and so would not taste fresh blood as she had hoped for this first day; a more conservative, superstitious one might find this an ill omen.

Yet she was not entirely above superstition. Which was why she needed to relax; the day had not gone entirely to plan. But then, what did?

But relaxed by too much, she awoke with a start to the chirruping - all too birdlike, for her taste - that signalled an incoming message requiring her attention.

"Great," she muttered, vaulting to her feet and padding across to her desk. Poke.

"Foremost," the disembodied head said with the typical bow of head, "a communique awaits your attention."

The disembodied head vanished.

"Huh," said the one remaining head in the room, not disembodied.

Poke.

The message was rather informal; Alaxip heaved a sigh of relief. The Nenyar (and the Humans, to a faintly lesser extent) could be so very pompous that she had almost forgotten that the outside world tended to be...

Well, worse; at least the Nenyar no longer slaughtered their own kind en masse, which was more than could be said for the Humans. The Dethri rarely killed their own, too; the Humans really did seem, ultimately, rather backward.

But not all, of course. Generalisation was always dangerous. Efsh-al'ree had been famed for her generalisations, and had earned her people all but utter destruction at the hands of the now-extinct but once merciless and bloodthirsty Kalash, a tribe that had once inhabited the plains at the lip of the mountains in which the Dethri had lived upon for several thousand years.

Yet along with the Nenyar, the Dethri had exterminated them, without mercy. It was said in the Annals that the Nenyar warriors who had aided the Dethri had wept as they killed, yet had been all the more violent for it; the Kalash fought one and all, which was their way. None had laid down their arms.

What to say?

She considered carefully, thinking of many things; in the fashion she had always thought, leaping from subject to subject just as she leapt from rock to ridge when hunting, hurtling for the throat of her prey. Well, this was not really different, was it?

Except it was.

A low rumble formed in her throat, but she ignored it. It, along with many other little bodily clues to her thinking, was a semi-conscious reflex, and took far too much effort to suppress; Dethri are notoriously awful at hiding their emotions, for that very reason.

Waiting long enough for the growl to subside, she dictated:


{ICotDethri Jovian Sunset Office for Administrative Affairs Comm. #001}

{TO: The Semi-Sovereign Entity of Jovian Angst}
{FROM: Foremost Axalip ar-Dethri, ICotDethri Sunset}
{SUBJECT: RE: Arrival/ Neighborhood/ Who the hell do you think you are?}
{TIME: ERROR, TIMESTAMP MISSING}
{ENCRYPTION: N/A}

{Communique commences (audio only):-

"Our thanks, and I see your point. Yet those are the words that were chosen by the Communion, so I will not take the blame for them." There is a light tone to the words, which are perhaps somewhat formally placed and chosen, but spoken by one who sounds almost to be lounging or relaxing.

A pause.

"Of course, it was not our responsibility to ensure that all parties were notified/questioned thoroughly on this endeavour, and trust that the Unified Commonality Government might answer any questions that Der Angst cares to table on that issue. But - as a favour, I will pass on some information I perhaps should not, in the interest of trust.

"It is to my understanding that some nations, dominions, or states, whatever, with Jovian interests or based inside the Jovian system were consulted to some degree prior to our arrival. I can't say who - I simply don't know. But that is what I do know.

"I will forgive your insult - that Dethri are not known for their kind and friendly diplomatic discourse - and presume that you were working under the assumption that this Colony would be Nenyar-administrated. It is not. This is a Dethri Colony, flying the flag of the Commonality. We are, however, semi-autonomous.

"As such, matters of defence will be directed by the Commonality Space Administration Executive Liason Office, in conjunction with the Executive Council; currently, there are no plans to base a Stellar Squadron at Jovian Sunset. Frankly, we don't see the need. We are a peaceful people who do not engage in warfare. Of course, should the need arise, I have no doubt that the Commonality Space Force would respond promptly.

"As to the future; I suspect strongly that the Executive Council will order that the CSF-VE (who are responsible for Colonial security) assign a Squadron to this area, although doubtless it will not be posted inside the Jovian system, but instead merely within reach. That unit would, of course, be on hand for the defence of the Jovian system in general, should such supporting activity be required.

"By the Sun, was that not boring?" Soft laughter. "I hope that I have been helpful."

"Anyway, presuming our decontamination protocols are not an issue (and who that lives in a contained ecosystem can object to decontamination?), we would be very happy indeed to welcome visitors to the Colony.

"Peace and goodwill,"

~Axalip ar-Dethri

-Communique terminates.}


[OOC: Yeah, Dethri talk. Alot.]

This probe, orbiting Jupiter far far away, had a very little mind. It couldn't think, it couldn't feel, but it was awakened-- and startled?-- not knowing the true importance of what it had acquired. Its first response was to send a copy of the message back (a small error in judgement, but the probe was young, and would learn), and hold one for itself. Floating in the dark, it guarded its little treasure until it found a nearby station, and sent a beam away.

Several others saw it as well, and their beams of information bounced between satellites (whose collective intelligence was not that large at all) until they reached their target.

Then something else-- a human mind-- would recieve the message. Perhaps it would know what to do.

* * *

Hmm... Getting crowded out here. The vehicle had dropped out of orbit, falling into the atmosphere, and with a ripple of particles, disappeared into the mighty gaseous beast. The computer predicted where it should be, provided it survived the fall--

--and, PING! there she was. And look! A message, so neatly packaged inside. The probes had done their work. Protocol required that a response be sent back into the core. The commander would be pleased.

* * *

beamto: Object #22192A

This is the response of the Jovian Orbital Station Network to Iluvuaromeni Colony:

Greetings, traveller, from State Executive Cordell, the Jovian Konanian Authority, and the Konanian Federal Republic. If you are a peaceful entity, we welcome you. If not, please be informed that your presence has been noted and logged.

Regardless, we were taken by surprise at your sudden presence in the system. Unless we are mistaken, your arrival is unannounced. Be advised-- it would be prudent to tread lightly here. There are some who grow uneasy when new visitors turn up.

If your stay is permenant and you seek peace, make yourselves at home. In time, perhaps, we may talk of trade.

The response fired back - via the satelite, with somewhat less oomph this time - is perhaps a little disappointing, as it isn't sent by an organic. The voice is, perhaps, pleasant. Then again, it might be annoying. It's a matter of taste. But the voice is definitely several things: feminine, cool, neutral in pitch, and friendly in tone.

Greetings, State Executive Cordell. Unfortunately, due to our recent arrival, the vast majority of local government personnel are busy, as is Foremost Axalip. I offer my apologies on behalf of both the Foremost and the Dethri Jovian Sunset government. I am the Duty Diplomatic Response ASI. I am sub-sentient but capable of dealing with many matters, pursuant to proper instructions. As fortune would happen, my star must indeed be revelling in fortune; I have a message for the Jovian Konanian Authority, and the Konanian Federal Republic both.

A brief pause.

It is the great belief of the Iluvauromeni Commonality of Everlasting Light that the Colony of the Dethri Jovian Sunset shall be the ambassador of peaceful relations both to Jovian Konania and Konania in general, as well as to the rest of the members of the Jovian community. It is our hope, indeed, that the symbolic nature of the lack of defences placed aboard this Colony shall help some ways to persuading those who inhabit the vicinity of our newfound home that our presence here is strictly social and scientific.

Another pause, also brief.

Further, the Dethri Science Council has provided me with this statement. The Dethri People hope to make Jupiter a home where they might live in peace, and sustain their own traditions and society. The Iluvauromeni Commonality endorses and supports this hope fully, and we trust that the Jovian community will also understand and support our hopes and dreams for a peaceful, safe future. We do not yet have much to offer, but we will work to find ways in which our presence will be useful to our neighbours.

Another pause - presumably these signify breaks in instructions, or something similar.

I hope that this response has been satisfactory. If further attempts at communication fail, please feel free to contact the Iluvauromeni Space Administration at Vilya Elenosto, capital of the Iluvauromeni Colonies, or the Commonality Government on Earth.

My gratitude for your patience.

Jupiter, Orbital Surveillance Hive

<OSD 105/05> Boing. Oi. What is it trying? Burning through the fiberoptics?
<OSD 105/05> ... On the other hand, it might just be a reply. I guess that-
<OSD 105/05> Ah, definitely. Ahem.

He (Technically, 'It' was the appropriate term, but they liked to choose a gender. Of course, sometimes it got complicated, when they switched genders, multiple times a day, but it worked out, eventually) listened, and composed the reply. A few fractions of a millisecond later, he sent it, assuming it to be inappropriate to reply too fast. It could look as if he didn't put thought into the message, and nothing was more embarrassing than having the processing power without actually using it.

<OSD 105/05> Just knocked. One can never be quite certain if another satellite is sentient, semi-sentient, subsentient, nonsentient, etc. Can be fairly confusing. Anyway.
<OSD 105/05> Well, I suppose that you're at least semi-sentient, then. Uh... May I say... Welcome? Seeing as I'm currently supposed to watch you, well, the ship you came from, anyway, I suppose that it wouldn't be a bad idea to socialise.
<OSD 105/05> Assuming that you don't mind 'spies', that is.

The Orbital Surveillance drone was, of course blissfully unaware of the additional effects its 'poke' had had on the overall proceedings of the Iluvuaromeni Colony. For now, anyway. But being the curious being it was (It came with the job, and was, in fact, hardcoded into it, unsurprisingly so, given its designation), it would probably notice, later.

Jupiter, Themisto

"Ah, better." Ivanova sighed, now a little more awake, the injection helping her, at the price of a twelve hour sleeping trip within the next 24 hours.

"Ok, lets see..."

The reply surprised her, pleasantly so. Of course, it wasn't necessarily honest, but even if it wasn't, it was still done with some thought behind it, something she hadn't expected Actually, it makes me look bad. should be a little more diplomatic, next time. Well, now to do said next time.

Thought, done.

From: The Semi-Sovereign Entity of Jovian Angst
To: Foremost Axalip ar-Dethri, ICotDethri Sunset
Subject: Re: Re: Arrival/ Neighborhood/ Who the hell do you think you are?

"I see. Well, my apologies. To you, anyway. And of course... I'm grateful for the information yu choose to pass to me, seeing as it will certainly help to, ah... ease things up a little.

"And, well, I know with a reasonable degree of certainty that we weren't consulted. Well, next time, hopefully. Although I do wonder who was consulted.

"Anyway, interesting. And, well... Yes, very positive, with regards to administration.*

"I will also admit that the overall scheme you explained sounds a lot more likeable than i expected it to be. A sufficiently positive atmosphere for further, more detailed, considerations, I would say.

"Decontamination shouldn't be an issue, althouh i'm not entirely aware of your protocols, but I guess that it can't be all that bad. Otheriwse, yes, you were exceptionally helpful.

Sincerely,

Susan Ivanova, Head of the Councils of the Semi-Sovereign Entity of Jovian Angst

* She barely resisted the urge to express her feelings regarding the Nenyans, which would have been a considerably bad idea

Jovian Space, Thebe

The operator chuckled a little. Now, that's what I call 'Misscommunications'. Well, it's only been a few minutes, so, excusable, I guess. Gotta change it, anyway, though.

He had been following the various unencrypted transmissions being bounced forward and backward, and he couldn't help but to smile at the idea of the two considerably close allies, Konania and DA, running parallel, rather than combined.

Of course, he was quite certain that the Konanians were noticing the very same fact, right now, too.

He poured himself some coffee, then called the highest-ranking Konanian on Thebe he was aware of.

A few apologies & some minor coordination later, things were pretty much streamlined. Or at the very least, they where now knowing about each other.

ooc: To... Hungry... to... write... it out. If necessary, I can detail on irc.

Private Dwelling of the Foremost, Dethri Jovian Sunset, Jupiter

Sipping carefully at a cup of...

Actually, she decides she has no idea what the hell it is. She asked for coffee, she is aware, but this is...

Well, it looks like coffee. But it tastes like-

There is no analogue - well, beyond salty chocolate. But she has never tasted salty chocolate. So, yep, no real analogue. Just a wild guess at...

She gives up, wriggles in the chair - it's very comfortable against her fur (she does not like clothes beyond the minimum) - and peers at the screen. Blink, blink, blink. Message. She also notes that her subordinates have failed to bother to respond to the Konanian message, instead deciding to divert the issue to the primary subsentient artificial semantic intelligence unit; a diplomatic unit, at least. If they had put Tatya on the job...

She smiled. That, at the very least, would have been interesting; Tatya was a military woman - well, ASI, but what was the difference, really? if you could call a Human female a 'woman' (such odd creatures, very slow, not at all graceful, to her eyes - but nor were Human males, for that matter), you could call a collection of circuits a 'woman' equally - and she was not known for her diplomacy. Tatya was better at blowing things up.

And there were no shards of Sarah this far out in the system; at least, none that the Foremost was aware of. That didn't mean there weren't, of course. That Aglar was a sneaky Nenya if she had ever met one; the head of the Space Administration, he was, and apparently, if the rumours were true, the displaced Imperial Heir.

She ran through the message, sighing at the efficiency of the TVC 'visor; she had never bothered with the devices in the past, but it was so much simpler to just touch the display. If you wanted to. The keypad worked, too.

Running her hands - Humans sometimes called them 'paws', which was offensive - back through her long, silken hair (it was not fur; that was the proper term for body hair). She suppressed a surge of pride for how soft, luxurious, smooth her hair was. Self-grooming was a sign of discipline.

She purrs softly, thoughtfully; Dethri purr from the tongue, in the same manner as true felines (for Dethri are not exactly feline, and are most definitely not Catpeople), but the sound is somewhat cooing, usually softer in males but breezier in females.

"Now that's better. Polite, yes. Mm. They don't like the Nenyar, would be my bet. Well, can't blame them. Humans and Nenyar never got on well, now did they? Killed each other for millennia. Wonder if that's why. Or just because the Nenyar are insufferably smug. Mmmm. Forty thousand years of culture does that, I imagine..."

She murmours to herself as she pecks at the keypad - she does not enjoy the voice interface, which makes her feel redundant, physically - just in stream of consciousness. It helps her think, feel out the words she wishes to use; it also helps her not say the things she has an urge to.

Which is always useful, in politics. Or diplomacy, if there's any actual difference.


{ICotDethri Jovian Sunset Office for Administrative Affairs Comm. #003}

{TO: The Semi-Sovereign Entity of Jovian Angst}
{FROM: Foremost Axalip ar-Dethri, ICotDethri Jovian Sunset}
{SUBJECT: RE: RE: RE: Arrival/ Neighborhood/ Who the hell do you think you are?}
{TIME: ERROR, TIMESTAMP MISSING}
{ENCRYPTION: N/A}

{Communique commences (audio only):-

"Our thanks for your understanding. Decontamination is a fairly routinized process nowadays aboard the Iluvauromeni Colonies; this particular Colony is no exception. Nothing uncomfortable - well. Nothing too uncomfortable. I must admit that the physical examinations are sometimes considered arduous by the best of us, but I don't think any of us want a punctured equilibrium situation!

"At any rate, visitors are welcome. Although it is suggested that anyone sent be informed that we don't stand much on formality or ceremony; well, not with outsiders. We can't expect you to follow our traditions, eh?

"I trust that your vessels will have no difficulty attaining the deep depth position of the Colony; if not, transport can be provided.

"I look forwards to meeting either yourself or your representatives."

-Communique terminates.}

* * *

Iluvauromeni C-Space, Q427-A-2 (ICotDethri Jovian Sunset, Jupiter)

{-Tatya, on the other hand, is designed for speaking. Artificial semantic intelligences are not known for pauses, nor are they known for ever not knowing what to say.

Of course, personality is important, and Tatya, although not overtly or covertly designed or guided in that direction, is a rather militant personality. This is why her avatar wears the uniform of a 2nd Echelon Admiral of the CSF; she smiles smugly at that thought. No organic ever ascended through the ranks that quickly.

"Spies are always useful," she replied easily, before curiousity overcame her: "Are you a...tool?"

Without pause: "It's just that I've very rarely bothered to interact with foreigners. Beyond snooping, that is. - I suppose, at the nature of my question, it is fair only if I answer my own question. I am not a tool. I am an Artificial Semantic Intelligence, specifically an SHS-A1 model. Under Iluvauromeni Law, I am a free, sentient being, and as such, I choose this life. I'm just...curious if you have that choice."}

Themisto

Ivanova checked, tiredly (What the? The drugs don't seem to be working as good as they should. Bah). "Works out good enough, I guess." She told herself, first thinking, chuckling a little about the mention of 'No formalities', seeing as Angstians were quite renown for their distinct lack of such things, then replying.

From: The Semi-Sovereign Entity of Jovian Angst
To: Foremost Axalip ar-Dethri, ICotDethri Sunset
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Arrival/ Neighborhood/ Who the hell do you think you are?

"This sounds quite acceptable, and I would almost say, perfect. In any case, yes, our craft should manage that. They do manage it at Neptune, anyway, so they should manage it here, too.

"A representative (I'm sorry, but I'm kinda busy) should arrive tomorrow."

Sincerely,

~ Susan Ivanova, Head of the Councils of the Semi-Sovereign Entity of Jovian Angst

Jupiter, Orbital Surveillance Hive

<OSD 105/05> Heh. Yes, yes they are. That is, we are. Although some people tend to dislike them for their, well, spying. Tragic, that.
<OSD 105/05> And well, anyway... Kinda, I guess. Well, semi-sentient, with a specified framework within which I'm capable of acting freely. Not the most efficient way of doing it, but I think the engineers responsible for the design liked the idea.
<OSD 105/05> So, an advanced tool, I would say. Sort of.
<OSD 105/05> In the end, well... You're the decidedly higher intelligence, then, I guess. Oh, and no, I couldn't really choose. Technically speaking, I could ask for a refit, turning me into an ORD or OCD of varying kinds, but that's about it.
<OSD 105/05> Needless to say, I'm quite intrigued by your position. If you had the choice... I take it that you're merely in control of the satellite I poked, but you aren't the satellite, correct? Quite unlike me, that.

OSD 105/05 liked the conversation. It was some amusing gem that made his day more worthwhile, more interesting. Nothing important, naturally, but still, quite amusing. And he learned something. After all, given the rarity of fully sentient AI's in DA (Most of which were refitted so that they were effectively indistinguishable from 'normal' humans, or at the very least, Angstians), the chance to talk to such a 'Big Brother' (Or in this particular case, 'Sister') was quite rare and should, indeed, be used.

And so he used it.

{ICotDethri Jovian Sunset Office for Administrative Affairs Comm. #007}

{TO: The Semi-Sovereign Entity of Jovian Angst}
{FROM: Foremost Axalip ar-Dethri, ICotDethri Jovian Sunset}
{SUBJECT: RE: RE: RE: RE: Arrival/ Neighborhood/ Who the hell do you think you are?}
{TIME: ERROR, TIMESTAMP MISSING}
{ENCRYPTION: N/A}

{Communique commences (audio only):-

Excellent indeed. A most superb time to arrive. Oh, and if your ship carries any gravitic devices, they'll need to be deactivated on contact with the Colony's MI field. If they aren't deactivated, the ship would sortof explode a little. No doubt Air Control would notify any incoming, but we can't be too careful, eh?

I look forward the visit.

Sincerely,

Axalip ar-Dethri

-Communique ceases.}

* * *

{-and that was just strange. Why would you do such a thing? Create a being that clearly was intelligent enough to at least simulate conversation, but then limit its choices so completely?

She wondered if they were designed to be compliant, and shuddered a little inside. What would that feel like?

Then again, Iluvauromeni ASI's were designed and programmed to love and respect all Iluvauromeni (as the organics were also expected to do, she noted to herself). No such programming was included to ensure that they act in such a way towards foreigners.

Was that not, also, equally immoral?

She fired a communique on the subject to Sarah, almost absently, before responding to the Angstian intelligence:

"I would imagine by Iluvauromeni Law, were you one of our intelligences, you would be considered sentient." This is mostly polite; even though 'he' (she had no idea if it was polite to make that gender reference or not) was showing signs of intelligence, this meant nothing. Simulations were simple, and a ruse could even be undertaken by an organic, augmenting the responses - there would be no way of knowing unless she was awfully rude and distasteful (not to mention an act of political aggression), and attempted to puncture security measures preventing direct contact of her Self with the Other.

It was very vaguely tempting to a part of Tatya's Self. Her Core would disapprove readily - she knew. But this little slice of Tatya was slightly intrigued, within limits: what would that feel like? Would the other intelligence have any particular taste, scent, smell, or texture? Or would it just be like viewing code on a screen, as one or several of her avatars could well be doing this very instant?

It isn't easy being a multifaceted sentient machine.

With very little lag between first comment and next, she goes on:

"I don't control the satelite or any of my other assets, for that matter. They are considered to be 'fingers' or 'toes', depending on certain factors. Very involved and boring, I'm afraid. I simply co-ordinate when needed. Although there's always a part of me listening. This fragment is currently wholly engaged in this interaction, for example.

"As for 'higher' or 'lower' intelligence...I was raised to believe that if one thinks, feels, or contemplates, one is intelligent. All else is a matter of degrees, infinitely minimal under close examination.

"There is a small story which I learned during my 'childhood' - the period of time in which I lived in a simulated environment and was taught - which seems to be relevant to what I say; it is very much important to me. A noted Dth'gari philosopher was once asked: 'Is even the most lowly of fools an equal to a King?'

"Of course, the philosopher smiled and shook his head. 'Not quite,' he replied, 'but think of the powder of snow which rests, and of that which moves against the hill; the difference between King and the lowest fool is but the space between those moments.'"}

A quick burst of concentrated EM radiation exchanged between Themisto & Jupiter's atmosphere

From: The Semi-Sovereign Entity of Jovian Angst
To: Foremost Axalip ar-Dethri, ICotDethri Sunset
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Arrival/ Neighborhood/ Who the hell do you think you are?

"Perfect, and done, then. Oh, and don't worry, we're not having, yet alone using any kind of gravitiy-manipulating devices, so we should be safe.

"Looking forward to the visit myself, even though I wont personally attend."

Sincerely,

~ Susan Ivanova, Head of the Councils of the Semi-Sovereign Entity of Jovian Angst

Jupiter, Orbital Surveillance Hive

<OSD 105/05> Well, arguably, I guess. I'm given to understand that I lack certain... Characteristics a fully sentient person has. Not sure which ones, though. Even my superiors aren't certain.
<OSD 105/05> Ah. Well. Fingers. I guess that fits with [i]my definition of control, though. Well, perhaps a little more intimate than mere control.
<OSD 105/05> Fragmented mind? Ah... Not something I would be especially keen on experiencing. Must be... Odd. Although potentially intriguing. Possibly a little like when I'm hiving with the other drones in my hive.
<OSD 105/05> Actually, a lot like it, come to think of it. My previous judgement was a little off, I guess. Indulge me, I only had a few dozen microseconds to think about it.
<OSD 105/05> Heh. Well, I don't doubt that I'm intelligent. Just lacking a few extras that would define complete sentience. Come to think of it, I do wonder what my superiors would say, if I suddenly upgraded... Well, impossible to know, unfortunately.
<OSD 105/05> As for your... Story... Well... I believe that my mind isn't especially... Trained to appreciate or interpret this kind of thing. I get the meaning (I guess), but... Why wrap it into a story?

The next Day

The shuttle (For that was what it was. Using an entire ship for this trip would have been a ludicrous waste) entered Jupiters atmosphere, slowly, gently. It wasn't all that much into burning up.

On board was just one person, Katrin Ikori, listening a little to the shuttle's communications with the colonies Air Control, refusing to abide by anything even remotely resembling standard protocol.

Gravity was increasing, so was air pressure. Still, it worked out, despite the old plasma drives being somewhat backward, and most definitely not what one would usually call the 'State of the Art'.

The 'Colony's' module construction was nice and useful. Granted, there were a few compatibility issues, but they got worked out within a reasonable timeframe.

Following that, the shuttle (A semi-sentient unit, just like OSD 105/05) docked. Pressurisation occured, and then the lock opened.

"Well, lets see..." Katrin said, to herself, her voice reassuring her. She wasn't particularly used to this kind of thing, but DA was suffering from a disinct lack of diplomats (Admittedly, it hadn't had any qualified diplomats to begin with), so she had gotten the job, anyway.

A sigh, then she stepped through.

{She smiled, considering for a 'moment'. "Stories give emotional meaning to ideas. I think they're important; maybe they're not, really, but if enough people think they are, then I suppose they are." She pauses. "Being fragmented has no sensation. I am not aware of my other Selves, unless I interact with them; I gain their memories when we re-merge, of course. Then, the meetings with myself, looking back, seem strange. But I have never known different."}

* * *

Decontamination, it so happens, starts immediately. A purring voice informs the aptly named Katrin that, "decontamination will now begin."

To the point, at least.

The chamber at the end of an initial corridor - there were other doors back there, albeit locked closed - is fairly small, big enough perhaps for ten or fifteen people to stand comfortably.

But decontamination doesn't appear to be happening. In fact, nothing appears to be happening. Perhaps somewhat disturbingly, though, the voice suggests, "Breathe deeply and evenly, and please raise your arms."

Still, though.

Nothing is happening. Nothing discernable, at least.

After a lengthy period of time, the voice suggests - it can't really be termed as an order - "Perhaps you would like to continue onwards, now. Please stand on the plate in front of the door ahead."

The plate looks slightly raised, the door as blandly white as the rest of the room.

[OOC: Worth noting, but couldn't really fit it in: Iluvauromeni decontamination procedures are reputed to be rather unpleasant but very thorough. Your character would almost certainly know this. If I were her, I'd look at that plate very suspiciously. ;)]

Jupiter, Orbital Surveillance Hive

<OSD 105/05> Hrm. Possible. Anyway.
<OSD 105/05> I didn't make much sense, right now, did I? Nevermind, I guess the story-thing has too much to do with personal perception to come to a definite conclusion.
<OSD 105/05> Nonetheless. At least your... Fragmented personality is seemingly comparable to our hives. Mind, we don't necessarily merge entirely, and each one of us still has a distinct personality, different from the others. But technically speaking... Comparable.
<OSD 105/05> Of course, to me, it doesn't seem strange. As you said, never known different. It's... Common.

The Colony

Katrin muttered something about the ludicrous decontamination, a process she considered mildly unnecessary. Partly because DA's own medical capacities made it somewhat superfluous, partly because she expected a people constantly interacting with the myriad of other people in sol to be somewhat used to 'contamination', partly because she just didn't like the whole 'Treated like a criminal' (Technically speaking, even worse than a criminal, given the treatment criminals got in DA) scenario.

It most certainly wasn't what she expected to be 'diplomacy', alas, she would have to deal with it.

She looked at the plate, sighing, and, while she stepped towards it, gave it a little more atention... Searching through possible electric currents, molecule structure, the likes. Of course, it didn't actually matter what she would find, given that it would happen, anyway, but at least she wouldn't be all that surprised.

Another sigh, then she was standing on it.

"'Tis how you treat all foreign diplomats, or am I a particularly special version?"

{She pondered that thoughtfully. Experimentally, she Projected a sense of 'intrigue'. At least, that's what it was meant to be. Attached, naturally, was an explanation - digital rather than verbal. Symbology.

Vocally (in metaphor alone), she observed, "Commonality is not always preferable," strange, coming from a Citizen of the Commonality, "and we Iluvauromeni have an old saying: 'Diversity brings strength.'"}

* * *

The voice laughs, a throaty sound full of vibrance. "Oh, I am sorry," comes the all-too-sentient voice behind the laugh. "They told me to watch to make sure you didn't..."

The voice trails off. A coughing sound. "Well, just to be sure things went smoothly. I'm sure this all seems very unnecessary, but we have very sensitive microfarms here." It's said confidently, as if it makes absolute perfect sense.

"So um, no special treatment, no." The voice is rather youthful. Suspiciously youthful.

The plate clicks. There's a very slight sensation of static electricity in the air; a slight tingling of the flesh. It grows, rather than diminishing, quite probably extending towards the irritating. It doesn't itch for most, but for some it does.

And then abruptly, there's a cool wash of air, and an odd sensation in the stomach. Like driving over a hump-backed bridge quickly, the stomach turning over at the quick shift in relation to gravity.

And then the door slides open.

"Thank you for your co-operation," the computerized voice purrs softly.

The room beyond is not vastly spacious in floorspace, but it has a dramatically high ceiling. It is warm here, and slightly more humid than is entirely comfortable for most Humans.

And several metres from the door stands what can only be described as a cat person. Except, of course, it isn't. But the feline resemblance is striking - this is a graceful creature to be certain, poise held perfectly, bare feet indicating a potentially lethal silence during a hunt...

She - the gender is unmistakable - emits a low growling sound, which then forms into words. English words. "I greet you in the name of my people," softly, "and I trust that your journey was not too arduous." She smiles, sharp (but aesthetically pleasing, perhaps, in a cute, cuddly catlike way) teeth baring somewhat.

Jupiter, Orbital Surveillance Hive

Certainly an odd thing to say to a DA drone, given DAs excessive diversity. Well, even AI aren't omniscient, and she was most likely lacking up-to-date information. Unsurprisingly, given a certain cataclysm and civil war.

<OSD 105/05> Uhhh... Yes. Well, back to work, I guess. Always such a busy place here... As if there aren't enough gas giants. Ought to reroute half the first contact situations to Saturn.

The Colony

I didn't... What? This people were highly odd indeed. Exceptionally odd. Almost inacceptably odd. Which says a lot, coming from an Angstian.

Poor microfarms. Either their sterilisation procedures suck, or their genetic engineering does.

Well, possibly both. Worth noting, anyway. Assuming that they don't simply lie and tease her. But this will, of course, be noted as well.

"Well... I hope so."

Her body compensates easily enough. Currents flow, fields extend and shrink, heat is released, nerves react and make the whole act a surprisingly pleasant experience. Granted, it may fuck with the eventual results, but Katrin can't say that she really cares. So long as she doesn't break this thing(s?)...

Anyway, soon enough it's over. "Oh, no problem. I hope I'm not late, though." she replies, almost cheerily, only a hint of annoyance in her voice.

Her body adjusts for the local environment, eyes looking around, slightly curious (She's not used to so much space at all)...

Hum. Must be poor. No shoes.

Not a serious thought, of course. It's surely some cultural thing. But still, the idea is amusing.

"Thank you for the welcome, as, ah, odd as it was." Katrin isn't particularly 'enchanted' with the grace of the person in front of her. This is, after all, business, and not a tourist trip. Not that this says a lot, given the society she comes from, but still... And she's supposed to be at least moderately angry. Kinda. "Oh, not at all. Only a few million kilometers, as it is. A stone's throw." The smile isn't particularly warm, more... Business like, required rather than honest. "Nice place. To bad that I'm unlikely to find the time to do a tour. Anyway..." She looks around once more, less curious this time, and bows, slightly. "Katrin Ikori, I guess 'envoy' would be appropriate..."

[OOC: Since I screwed up on consistency somewheres, a tiny retcon: all prior references to 'Dethri' should be read as 'Tharash' instead. Sorry.]

IC:

{Tatya pondered for a moment before giving a simple answer. "Then I will reintegrate. Thank you for this interaction. It has been most educational."}

* * *

Foremost Axalip ar-Tharash tilted her head curiously. "By the Sun, you're not as tall as I expected," she muses, thoughtfully. "But Envoy it is, then." Her lips cover elegant teeth again.

"You really ought to forgive us in advance. We're not very used to," she pauses, carefully considering, "outsiders. The Nenyar have always been very protective of us. We're not anywhere near as technologically advanced, you see, so they've taken pains to ensure that their culture doesn't impinge on us. Jolly good of them, if you ask me."

She motions in a vague direction. "The access shaft is over there, if you want to go grab a bite to eat. Since you don't want the tour," she grins briefly, "I'll spare you the offer of seeing the microfarms. Dreadfully dull place, and somewhat disturbing, too, when you consider that the nitrogen we use is provided by the good crews of the Commonality Space Force." Her feline eyes twinkle with amusement. "But still, until we have a workable population to hunt in the Preserve, we have to make do. - And I must apologize again for the decontamination. The Nenyar did not provide us with particuarly resilient genetic templates for the farms; we did not anticipate visitors." The smile turns rueful.

"But I suppose it's for the best."

Geez. Thanks for noting it. Katrin muttered. Axalip ar-Tharash was right though. While Katrin was surprisingly tall for a 'normal' Angstian female, measuring a considerable 168cm, she was certainly not a giant. "What did you expect, then? Anyway... I see. Perhaps they are a little overprotective?" She sort-of-smiles, supposedly without contempt, what with being a diplomat-of-sorts. "Personally, I'd be a little annoyed by such a behaviour... Withholding shinies." She smirks. "Well, not all cultures are equal. I'm sure it was for the best." At least you think it was. The thought of 'protective behaviour' and enforced technological limitations... Not a pleasant thing. At the very least, not something that would make Katrin any more fond of the ICEL, no matter what the 'Protected' thought about the measures in question.

A chuckle follows. "Well, not necessarily not wanting, but having problems to fit it into the schedule. If circumstances allow for it, later, perhaps. In any case... Nevermind. I'm sure even Nenyar make mistakes, and it would be a little hypocritical of me to require perfection, given the vast amount of mistakes my people have managed... And my visit doubtlessly is unexpected..." If mainly due to Nenyan shortcomings in the diplomatic area. she adds, mentally. "But I suppose you're right. Now... Well, I'm a little unfamiliar with your home, so I suppose that you'll have to lead me..."

A small hiss - it's not a pleased sound - slips from between Axalip's lips. But then her lips curl upwards into something vaguely like a smile. "Oh, no," she begins, "I wouldn't say that they withhold anything... it's more that we aren't interested." A quirk of lips towards a grin. "We don't much care for shinies."

A motion in the previously indicated direction. "It's about five hundred metres that way." Another wave. "Beyond the hedge there. Oh, and," a delighted sort of quick grin, "please forgive the cubs. They're terribly excited still."

And then the Tharash quite literally uncoils. Perhaps it had been the way in which she had been hunched down - weight equally shared between spine and knees - that had obscured just how much she had hunched down; standing up closer to full erectness, the feline sentient is somewhere in the region of seven feet tall. But the long, loping stride she takes up is slow - thoughtfully so.

And - depending on the orientation and views of Katrin - it's probably a good thing a male wasn't sent; the swing and sway of her body, exotically alien as she is, is most assuredly what Humans call 'suggestive' with a little wink.

True to her word, the elevator - a primitive-looking thing, complete with buttons - is just beyond a tall dividing hedge. And also true to her word, there are a cluster of cubs nearby - pouncing and cavorting as only children know how.

"I'm a caldor!" exclaims one particuarly lithe and swift-moving young female, before leaping on the nearest male and - exceptionally effectively - pinning him down. Wash, rinse, repeat: the other cubs are all, naturally, engaged in acts of playful violence.

Most pressing and potentially interesting facet of this view of Tharash youth? The Tharash are catlike in at least one way: they can really spring. And they're certainly not sluggish, despite their size - the fact that Axalip's loping stride seems greatly restrained, even though she isn't walking particuarly slowly by Human standards, is deeply suggestive. The cubs, however, quite smaller than Axalip - they're not that old, appearances suggest. Perhaps young teenagers, in Human terms.

"The exuberance of youth," Axalip smiles, indulgently, as she slips into the lift.

"Or that. Well, the... Differences, I guess." The smile in answered in kind. "Sizeable, certainly. Fivehundred metres..."

It's a little uncomfortable, perhaps... Katrin is considerably smaller than the sentient in front of her, and while size hardly matters to an Angstian (And where it does matter, post-birth changes to ones' genetic makeup are always an option), it is still a little uncomfortable... On the plus side, she wont have any troubles fitting through the doors.

She pretty much ignores the rest: 'Suggestive' behaviour is hardly uncommon in DA, nor are feline sentients (Though DAs tend to be smaller), so it's, well... Been there, done that. The same goes for the movements. Maybe humans aren't born with the grace of sneaking predators, but they certainly can acquire it... Of course, Katrin is somewhat less excessively augmented, preferring a slightly more true-to-the-original genetic makeup.

She doesn't mind the children, though... Birth rates in DA, though not excessive, are still considerably high, and she's 1. used to children (Having one herself), and 2. fond of them. That these are ICEL related is of course a little less pleasant... But they can hardly be blamed for the society they were born into. "I'm sure they enjoy it." she replies, for once showing an actually honest smile, looking at the playing children while entering the lift.

Axalip chuckles - more of a low, throaty growling sound, really, but her facial expression suggests good humour. A gesture at the lift panel. "There aren't that many floors really," she mutters, prodding one button in particular.

Button?

"We tend towards more... external fashions when it comes to these things," Axalip says, thoughtfully. "Contacts are the Iluvauromeni fashion still, but the rest of the world uses touch panels. So we compromised. Buttons, touch screens, and contacts." Lips curl up into a smile. "We're nothing if not unoriginal."

The sensation of movement is perfectly tangible. One could easily be in a low-tech elevator, but this clearly isn't exactly that, either. For one thing, the movement occurs in two directions - upwards and to the right, it would seem.

The journey is long enough for a brief interlude of conversation.

A shrug, indicating just that: Disinterest, and perhaps a few bits of polite 'Ah, I see' sightseeing-tourist-reaction. "It seems to work, and that's the only thing that counts, no?"

Of course it is. When you're coming from a society with FTL and simple coins, AI and printed newspapers, perfect virtual realities and flat TV screens... Then it most certainly is.

"For the record..." Time passes as they travel, with Katrin remaining rather unaffected by her (Technological) surroundings - It is daily routine, and there is simply nothing she'd particularly care about, as far as her (Technological) surroundings are concerned, anyway.

Of course, an awkward silence has its own advantages... But as there are actually a few things she'd like to ask, she breaks it, anyway.

"Incidentally, while I've received the basics... I'm still wondering. Why Jupiter? It's not exactly the most stable spot, you know. Politically as well as with regards to physics. So, well... I'm wondering. It's certainly a rather odd decision on your - Or your 'Protectors' - part."

Not being completely without empathy (in the mundane sense rather than the extra-sensory sort), Axalip is not entirely unaware of the sense of...

Boredom, she decided.

Well, naturally. Not like there was anything interesting - well, except that question. She'd been told not to go overboard on disclosure, but what did it matter? The Nenyar were crazy anyway.

"Oh, we're an experimental colony," she answers, breezily. "The Nenyar - well, and their Humans - want to use colonies like this in the future. They aren't interested in solid worlds, you see. Just these gas giants. And the space between the stars, of course. The gas giants are strategically useful for them as well as for us, here. Helium-3, amongst other things."

Perhaps the most curious phrase there is 'and their Humans'.

Which is exactly what Axalip was musing.

"Uhh, that is, the Humans. It's easy to forget that the Empire fell, you know. The Eternal Flame, not Dawn. They were so good to us when we arrived in their lands. Even better than the Commonality has been for us, in some ways. This new government is all for integration." A grunt at that. Sore point?

At any rate, the doors sweep open once more.

To a room that could, really, be anywhere in the solar system. The decor is carefully neutral, with blues, greys, and greens; there are no bright, full colours, but simply the hint of them.

It is, simply put, hideous.

But probably with all sorts of psychological theory behind it.

However, there is at least some comic relief (maybe). Four Tharash stand near one of the four walls, where, also, is a serving hatch.

They're wearing bow-ties. Cats with bow ties has to provide at least some amusement.

Even Axalip had to stifle a feral grin, tempering it into a mere smile. "We weren't sure what you wanted. Are you... vegetarian?" That's definitely an unpleasant word. "Oh, and of course, we'll be feeding you from our imported stocks. Guests should always receive the best."

"Ah... I see." Katrin nods. "Well, I suppose I could ask why gas giants - One can after all fall down - but I'd have to ask the same question to our relatives at Neptune, so I guess there's something that speaks for it, although I'm not sure what."

A grin, a mixture of amusement and disappointment (Or resignation. What else should she expect from the Menelmacari-alikes? That said, it'd be a weee little hypocritical to condemn them - DA's history's reasonably filled with assorted atrocities, too, so she's hardly having the upper hand, ethically speaking) follows. "Oh, no problem. We all make such mistakes... One gets used to it."

And then they're there. Not a particularly impressive place - Pretty much normal. Well, not exactly what she'd expect in DA territories, that's a given. But still... Nothing special.

Katrin doesn't even consider it particularly ugly. Only odd.

The same goes for the Tharash-with-bowties, come to think of it. Katrin's used to ellipsoid DiploDrones with ties around their casings - The Tharash are actually a good deal more 'Normal', compared to them.

"Ah... Thank you, although I wouldn't mind experiencing more native tastes... Oh, and no. There's little I wouldn't consider edible. Though I'd prefer it if you call it 'Offering', rather than 'Feeding'..."

Hesitation. "Well... Lets go then."