NationStates Jolt Archive

A while earlier

Professor Marius Takashi looked at the screen, watching the vast Moontian fleet (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=430908) depart, leaving nothing but empty buildings, a few pieces of infrastructure, and possibly a few toys behind.

"Well... it's going to be empty here, for sure..."

"Could change that. Besides, I'm certain that half the system will suddenly show up, wanting to claim space to show off the capacities of their erectile tissue." answered a somewhat metallic and slightly feminine voice next to him.

"Good point, SMD 11/51. Hrm. Well, lets see what happens."

A few days later

SMD 11/51's prediction proved to be surprisingly correct. Only a few days after the Moontians had finished their move to... Well, wherever they were going to (As far as the Angstians in Neptune/ on Triton and inbetween were concerned, they were entirely free to go to hell), the first requests had been noted.

Of course, while DA did now supposedly have the largest holdings in the Neptune system, it most certainly didn't claim jurisdiction over the entirety of it. And even if it had claimed jurisdiction, it would have been somewhat hard to enforce.

Still, DA (Especially DA Neptune, for reasons closely related to a desire to stay alive) was somewhat interested in 1. the right neighbors and 2. neighbors that wouldn't stir up shit between each other, like it happened so frequently on Mars.

And nobody needed a second Mars. One Mars was more than enough. Indeed, according to some, it was already to much.

The diplomatic drone, DD 01/09, sighed. "Okay, then. Yes, yes, I will do it... Please, director... YES, for gods sake. I will try my best... Well, if I'm too polite, it might sound dishonest. We have a reputation for being assholes... Bye. Yes, have a nice evening. Happy bonin- Err, partying."

"Bastard."

It checked its notes, again. Quite a couple of interested parties, a few of them having a rather high profile, the Federation of Sentient Peoples represented by ambassador Bruce Reynolds, Britmattia with... Well, generally speaking, 'a lot' of rather important, interested parties. It just screamed 'work'. But then, DD 01/09 could hardly help it.

Having finished the initial briefing, it was only a matter of minutes to write and send the required messages to the (At least for now) five nations interested.

From: Poseidon, Semi-Sovereign Entity of DA Neptune, The Hypocrisy of Der Angst
To: The Federation of Sentient Peoples, The Kingdom of Britmattia, The Divine Imperium of Roania, The Planet Mars Corporate Colony of This United State, The House of Tulcakelumë (Taurenor)
Subject: Neptune (Re)colonialisation

"Following the rather surprising departure of Neptune's local, 'native' inhabitants, your governments have expressed interests in acquiring assets within the Netune subsystem (Neptune itself as well as the moons Naiad, Thalassa, Despina and Galatea, Larissa, Proteus, Triton and Nereid).

"Given the surprisingly high level of interest expressed, as well as the potential risks of conflicting interests and claims arising, but also, on a more positive note, the potential advantages cooperation between the different interested parties in recolonialising this potentially prosperous subsystem holds, we would like to invite you to Poseidon in order to essentially negotiate/ decide over the future of Neptune and its moons, guaranteeing a politically stable Neptune, a constant, positive development, and a generally friendly, good 'neighborhood' in the region.

"We hope that you will decide to attend and enjoy our hospitality, to forge the future of this planet and to serve the interest of your people just as well as the interests of Neptune."

Sincerely,

~ Professor Marius Takashi & SCD 1/1, High Council of DA Neptune, under the authorisation of the High Council of the Hypocrisy

Even later

Poseidon, DA's floating City inside Neptune's atmosphere, was the exact opposite of DA's 'colony' on Triton. Whereas the latter was little more than a hub for criminals (As far as 'criminals' existed in DA, anyway) and shady dealings, Poseidon was rather close to a technocratic (And only mildly corrupt) paradise, and in parts resembling an oversized research center.

Certainly, the war had resulted some rather unfortunate events, and the damage (Not to mention the casualities) had been significant. Still, the damage had been taken care of, and while it certainly didn't fit pre-war standards, it was still nice enough to look at, with its clean corridors and polished drones floating inside said corridors. Even the environment was... Well, clean, and while DA's flora was certainly odd, it was still nice to look at. If one wasn't a botanist, one could almost think it was actually normal.

In orbit, two largish stations were floating around, orbiting Neptune, essentially DA Neptune's ports, together with a few dozen spaceships, rather small spaceships in fact, spheres and ellipsoids, most of them with entirely symmetric surfaces (Something one would notice inside Poseidon, too. Well, in parts of it, anyway).

The people were a little odd, though. Not hostile (They were certainly friendlier than the average Angstian), but odd... Slightly diffused minds in labcoats were almost the norm, and the drones weren't much better, although the occasional, decidedly odd cybernetic implant looked a lot less odd on them than they did on the human population (But then, they were hardly cybernetic implants when used in a drone). Poseidon had been the place where they started granting the drones full sentience/ sapience, and with the recent, excessive decline in population (Which did, incidentally, result in the city having surprisingly significant amounts of space available), they made up about 50% of the population, which helped their self-esteem quite a bit.

Granted, so did the massive payments they had received after suing their former owners for years of slavery...

Nonetheless, in the end, Poseidon was a surprisingly nice place, a place even non-Angstians could stay without being thoroughly engrossed (Or poisoned). Essentially the best choice that had been available.

Err.. no?

<Rezo> One could of course organise a multinational neptune federation to piss Boris off <.<
<Yamatto> I wonder if the Giant Pointy Earred Ego will awake to claim it..
<The_Rep_of_Komokom> Get Siri to do it. Once she claims it, NO ONE is in any position to dispute ... and as she posts so rarely ...
<Yamatto> heh
<Yamatto> OUT OF MY HEAD.
<The_Rep_of_Komokom> XD
<The_Rep_of_Komokom> Sorry, but its true.
<The_Rep_of_Komokom> <Rezo> One could of course organise a multinational neptune federation to piss Boris off <.< <- Oh god yes.

Just so everybody is aware of the OOC motive behind this.

It was, to a fair enough degree, just what the Directorate had been looking for ...

It was at the edge-end of the system, so it'd be quiet, well, more so than Mars could ever be,

( Really, a planet named after the god of war, and yet Market Research, hidden deep inside the Commerce Directorate and usually quite good at its job, hadn't figured that maybe just, there would be a fair bit of that going on now and again ... Well, Market Research had gotten a new Head of Research since then, hadn't it ? ... Not that it didn't stop T.R. Kom from kicing his own arse over it any-way, as you do when you're The Man Keeping Every-one Down, heh ... )

It was all to be " arranged " by a people which the Administration of This United State had done very important business with in the past, which was a good enough start. They also kind of, sort of, liked them too, which is always a help ...

( Except in that 1 instance where some elements in their over-liberal media had slandered T.U.S. ... But that was in the past, of course, and any-way, libel suits can grant an un-wanted air of reality to such claims, so it was all just swept under the rug by the C.D. P.R. Dept. and no one was litigated into early death over it ... )

Finally, it was the right time to secure a deal over Neptune, in specific, some of its moons, though not the ones you might expect ...

( Well, if you did guess, they'd be surprised. It was hardly the most likely set of choices, especially in an age when most countries no matter the size, still tried to extend the national wang'age with " Oh, shiny " of all sorts ... )

But that could wait till the ... conferance ? ... Well, it could wait.

The point was, it was hard to miss an entire civilisation just de-camping and going exo-system, even from as far back towards the system core as Mars, and it was a great chance to add some more diverse holdings to the small, and precise, sphere of influence of This United State wanted to build in the long term. So, T.U.S. had sent out " feelers " to the one remaining " power " of Neptune, and it had paid off, as luck would have it.

So, Poseidon got itself a very positive response, and one very lucky captain of a small luxury, high-performance freighter got very rich when he was made an offer he couldn't refuse by the Banque de T.U.S.

So, a short while later, after a quick once-over and a lick of fresh paint, and a new transponder, in fact, quite a bit of modding, but all done very quickly, a new, obviously diplomatic class of vessel, from T.U.S. took about 3 representatives from each of the 4 T.U.S. Directorates, and a gaggle ? flock ? herd ?

No, a murder of lawyers, from the Office of The Directorate ...

So, in total, 30 or so people went aboard, and and conequently, went to Neptune. Some of them wondered if the Poseidon blooms would be in flower.

Not that any of them were at all that far educated into botany to take too great an interest ...

( That was probably a good thing, unless they actually tried to touch something ... )

OOC : Looking to politely negotiate for Thalassa, Despina and Galatea, for arcologies / industrial stations, trade ports, etc, which to put that to scale, are of a radius each of 40, 74, and 79 km respectively, more like asteroids than moons. Actually, the sizes seem to depend on the web-sites you look at ... but none are larger than 200 km, at least. I think ...

1. It is generally considered impolite to use the fact you ignore a nation to lay claim to their land.

2. It is generally considered equally impolite - and in fact contrary to rather OOC rules - to start a thread, RP or otherwise, for the sole purpose of pissing $person off.

CentGov Buildings, Royesse, The Kingdom.

Mentathiel FitzWarwick pushed a braid back into place, tucking the recalcatrint brown rope of hair behind her ear again, sighing and returning to studying her sensible shoes intently, the practical leather little distraction from her internal miasma of worry.
The worry didn't show of course, Menta was a diplomat by training and choice, even if she'd never had an assignment yet, so the only sign of her stress was the frequent disassembly of a braid, then it's retying, slim fingers mindlessly performing the intricate task while the brain got on with worrying about what task the King would find his wife's too-staid sister.
Mentathiel sighed again and looked at the heavily carved door of the King's office and wished she'd wanted to be something somewhat less demanding.

Meanwhile, inside the office...
Owen Warwick, King of Men, is grinning like a small boy in a toy-shop at the piece of lace his wife is waving into the holo-cam built into her phone.
"Heh, alright, sure, yes!"
Arwen smiles contentedly.
"That's good. Now, aren't you meant to be meeting with Menta now?"
Owen looks briefly guilty, eyes flicking to the grandfather clock in the room's corner.
"Ye-es, but.."
Arwen smiles, putting down her little bit of lace, then pushing her river of dark hair back from her face. "Still haven't thought of an assignment for her?"
Owen nods, "There's nowhere worth her time that I'll risk her and she's rather more talented than she thinks, or so Arlois tells me, so be damned if I'll waste her on a consulate in Bumfuck, Nowherestan."
Arwen, looks thoughtful for a moment, green eyes vague, index finger tapping on her lips, and Owen is distracted enough by this picture that he doesn't hear his wife's next statement.
"You're not listening are you?"
"Sorry. Thinking about the lace thing."
Arwen colours slightly.
"Ahem. Anyway, I said that you could send Menta to the summit at Neptune. It'll be good experience, no one who's a threat and the Angstians there aren't that bad."
Owen considers, then makes a face.
"But they're still Angstians."
Arwen laughs, the sound like silver bells.
"Exactly, but not that Angstian. It'll be good for her. Take her out of herself and so forth."
Owen reaches into his desk and pulls out the inevitable packet of jerky, which he slices open with his boot-knife and pops a stick into his mouth.
He chews reflectively for a moment, then,
"Alright."
A shrug.
"She has to go out into the world some time. And.."
He leers impressively at his wife.
"I will see you and your little lace thing later."

And this is how Mentathiel FitzWarwick comes to find herself on a Marchant Class Yacht heading at a respectable speed to Neptune.

OOC incidentals :
1. You did exactly the same on Mars, die.
2. The fact that this annoys you is a happy accident, this is to prevent GPE fluids all over Neptune, die.
3. Lastly, when it comes to making dubious territory claims, I guess you're an expert. DIE.

The Imperial Fleet had been stationed around Neptune to guard the planet until the treaty with Allanea had been fulfilled, and had noticed the extra communicational activity coming from Poseidon.
This being duly reported to the Emperor on board the Allanean capital ship for the signing of the treaty; the fleet received the orders to upgrade their alert status to code orange and form a defensive pattern around each moon, with particular emphasis on Nereid, Thalassa and Larissa.
In the meantime, a message was sent from the Fleet to Poseidon

Greetings Neighbours.
You may have noticed that the Moontian Empire is vacating the Neptunian system. This is because of the crowding and overpopulation within this star system. We are relocating our people to another of our planets, but we are handing over control of our claims to Allanea. NO other nation may attempt to colonise here without Allanea's permission, or it will be viewed as a declaration of war against the Moontian Empire.

In the words of a great man: so long, and thanks for all the fish.

OOC:

I never used my ignore of a nation to claim their territory. I claimed the territory of OOC dead nations, yes. Entirely different and much less dubious.

OOC: Actually, NO. You have never previously mentioned your 'transmission' having been encoded before. Far as anybody is concerned it's en clair.

Further, using a sem-OOC parting message a player has posted during a moment of OOC confusion and low spirits and later retconned to make any kind of IC point is err... low.

P.S. I don't see how it would be so hard for you to at least have the common courtesty to RP blowing up the 3 Allanean ships present before you get to burn the crops and take the proverbial women and children into slavery.

DD 01/09 blinked. Well, this was an issue he could deal with all by himself.

Still, it was somewhat odd... Of course it hadn't sent its transmissions en clair. That would be incredibly stupid and not according to the standard diplomatic communication protocols. It hadn't even sent them as encoded tightbeam transmissions. No, it had used QE comms. And while there was a mild security risk during the trip from the DA Earth receiver to the invited nations, highly encoded tightbeam transmissions to the DA representative in the nation in question usually took care of such things *.

So it supposed that the Moontians were talking out of their collective asses. And why the hell they spoke of a nation that had long ago vanished in a truly tragical disaster (http://www.necrontyr.plus.com/forumpics/allanea.jpg)... Well... Whatever.

It answered.

From: DD 01/09, DA Neptune
To: Moontian Fleet
Subject: Your concerns

"Frankly, we don't really care about why you're leaving. It's entirely your concern, really. And while there seems to be some odd multiversial split that results in certain... Nations existing in your reality that don't exist in ours, I must ask you just how you got the idea that anything is happening with regards to Neptune's geopolitical structure. Personally, I'm not aware of any such thing, so, I must ask you to be a little less paranoid, if possible."

Sincerely,

~ DD 01/09, Diplomatic Drone, DA Neptune

* 17th in the world for IT, 98th in the world for smartest citizens. You would spend about, oh, a decade or so decoding it.

(OOC: if you want to undermine someones claim for a system, even for the.... weak reason that you don't particularly like them, you could at least have the courtesy of doing so ICly. Even more so when Moontian has said that he has transferred control of his holdings to Allanea.)

Primary Military Complex, Jordaxian space on the outskirts of the Sol system.

Technicians, junior officers, and other staff of the Jordaxian military complex were watching Neptune intently. it had recently been the space of ally Moontian, but it had been transferred over to the control of Allanea, another ally. As such, the Eternal Empire had an interest in seeing that the transfer went smoothly and without un-necessary violence. Their proximity was a boon in the matter, it would be easy to supervise the proceedings.
Sitting in a cramped, red-lit meeting room just off of the main processing area, admiral Daibai mused with his fellow Judges about what they would have to do, to contribute to any Allanean pressure in the area. It was after all, their land. as a member of the warrior caste Judiciary, it would fall to Daibai to safeguard the Empires interests.

Let us begin this meeting with a question. Is our support of the Allaneans in this matter unanimous? Daibai asked.

The other five judges nodded their head in assent.

Good. As our ally, we are required to support them in this simple.... transaction of land. Doubtless, due to the strategic value, however, simplicity is the last thing we expect. As such, we should be prepared to defend Allanean, and Jordaxian interests with force if necessary. However, I say that we should not attempt to escalate the situation. But we must make our presence felt.

More murmurs of agreement came from the other collected Judges.

Daibai smiled. Things were always much simpler when the Caste agreed on something entirely

Good, then it is settled. I shall assemble a small detatchment of ships, led by the vessel "Harsh Language", and we will wait within our own space until such times as the situation is resolved. I will communicate our standing to the affected parties so that they may take into consideration just how strongly the Eternal Empire feels that Allaneas treaty with Moontian regarding these lands should not be compromised.

Several hours later, the last craft in the Jordaxian defense mini-fleet arrived, the huge bulk of the Harsh Language. A Hagar (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v639/Guo2/HagarCarrier.jpg) class carrier of the Jordaxian navy. From the observation deck, Daibai glanced over the fleet. From the extreme left of the window, Daibai could see the two Boomstick (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v639/Guo2/S-martworkingtitle.jpg) Heavy Anticapital ship weapons, and scattered around between, and in front, were the shapes of one hundred tiny Nonsequitor destroyers, still the workhorse of the Jordaxian navy despite centuries of use. All in all, this was the most versatile force the Eternal Empire had ever fielded. Part of Daibai wished for combat just for the pleasure of advancing into battle, but he knew that it would be best for all if this remained peaceful.

The small Stiletto class destroyer (http://www.deviantart.com/view/19251699/) thundered through the ether, on board were a couple of diplomats and the security force necessary for such a delegation, the new drives had got them there rather swiftly, however these diplomats were not used to Space travel and were eger to get back onto Terra-firma (so to speak).

Hopes had been pinned on claiming Proteus, infact it was more than likely that the Destroyer with a compliment of an armour brigade or so could have accomplished this on its own, however the Midlonians had decided to go to the table and negotiate. Though why land that is empty and for the taking had to be negotiated over quite escaped some of them, netherless.
Not much could be done except beg their case and hope for the best.

The Angstian message was greeted with skepticism and contempt. The officer in charge of communications decided to have a little fun while doing his duty and sent a reply using old Angstian encryption
Angstians,
We know that there would be a bit of change in the Neptunian geopolitical structure simply by us leaving, since we are the largest nation in this planetary area. As for all the messages from various nations, it's not all that hard to pick up, since we are such close neighbours.
If we're being paranoid, then we get extra pay. If not, then we're ready, and we still get the extra pay.

You're probably wondering how we managed to decode your broadcast so quickly. Since we're leaving, I may as well tell you. We've been neighbours for such a long time we already know about your encryption methods and have spent the time figuring it out. I'm sure you've done the same with ours.

Aboard the USS Miriel nos Feanor

While the Allanean military presence in the area was minimal -as was the Allanean military, in general - the USS Miriel nos Feanor was present in orbit - it was supposed to be used to relocate Moontians. As it was, the Captain of the USS MnF simply turned to the Moontian passengers, whispering Buckle up, folks, going to be bumpy - and tried to position his ship between Proteus and the incoming Midlonian cruiser, transmitting his warning message.

This is the the USS Miriel nos Feanor Rescue and Evacuation Vessel. - please identify yourself ASAP.

Immediately, warnings were transmitted, and the major ships of the Confederate States Stellar Navy began to prepare to transit to Neptune.

All twenty of them.

OOC: Yes, I am sending an application to both Poseidon and Allanea. I don't want to cause trouble.

Approx. 1,800 miles away from Proteus, Neptune
The Eighty-Third Expeditionary Battleship Fleet, the USF of Tiburon

At the same time, a fleet of eight Dominion-class battleships (http://www.mahq.net/mecha/gundam/seed/dominion.jpg) were well on their way to Proteus for... well, exactly the same thing, carrying Secretary of State Ainterya Tsulakia for negotiations. Empty land around Neptune was sure to give them a stronger foothold on the outer reaches of the solar system than either their Saturnian colonies or their independent colonies in Kuiper and Oort.

The USF forces could clearly see their Midlonian counterparts on course for Proteus, and decided not to make a mess of things- why unnecessarily fracture a hardened alliance? That energy could be spent on claiming Naiad, a secondary objective.

On the holoscreen, General Halsey generated a secure Concordat line to the Midlonian fleet.

"This is General Matthew Halsey of the USF 83rd Expeditionary Battleship Fleet, calling the Midlonian commander. I have a proposition, as it seems both of our nations have an interest in settling Proteus. Since our alliance remains strong, we will have no inhibitions in making an agreement that can result in a massive border. Since our fleets are nearing the Protean space, perhaps we would be able to split the moon? I was thinking that the USF would claim the Western Hemisphere of the moon, while Midlonia would claim the Eastern half. Agreed?"

To: Poseidon, Semi-Sovereign Entity of DA Neptune, The Hypocrisy of Der Angst
From: The 83rd Expeditionary Battleship Fleet, The United Solaris Federation Aerospace Force, The United Solaris Federation of Tiburon
Subject: Negotiations for Neptunian Land

Professor Marius Takashi,

The United Solaris Federation of Tiburon formally wishes to submit its application for its claim on Proteus and Naiad. We shall be sending Secretary of State Ainterya Tsulakia as a representative from the United Solaris Federation to the conference on Poseidon, and we strongly hope that our claim can be maintained, especially on Proteus. We are encouraged by the number of nations that have responded to the offer of Neptunian land as an opportunity to increase relations with all nations involved, and we strongly hope that this can be the first step in the USF increasing its already warm relations towards all governments involved.

Sincerely,
Secretary of State Ainterya Tsulakia,
The United Solaris Federation of Tiburon
-----------------------------------------------------------
To: The Confederate States Congress
From: The 83rd Expeditionary Battleship Fleet, The United Solaris Federation Aerospace Force, The United Solaris Federation of Tiburon
Subject: Securing Claims on Neptune

The United Solaris Federation of Tiburon formally wishes to submit its application for its claim on Proteus and Naiad. Given the long history of cooperation between the USF government and the Allanean government, we strongly hope that we will be able to secure such an arrangement, for the mutual benefit of both our governments.

Sincerely,
Secretary of State Ainterya Tsulakia,
The United Solaris Federation of Tiburon

OOC: Link to claim thread for anybody's perusal http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=430908.

IC:

"We would like to note that from a legal standpoint, this 'Proteus' thing you're referring to is CSA property. Please apply to the CSA for land grants, which shall be parcelled out according to CSA foreign policy and with permission of the CS Congress."

OOC: Personally, I find nothing wrong with screwing with someone simply because you don't ICly like them; goodness knows it has precedence in history. Messing with them simply because you don't like them OOCly is a bit different, but I find that IC animosity often leads to OOC animosity as well. I don't really see any wrong-doing on anyone's part; this looks like a standard "he said, she said, he shoots her" thread. Also, sorry if I don't get everyone's plural or possessives quite right.

IC:

Nothing much came out of the Gamma Quadrant these days. A few transports of Brahmin meat, the occasional small corperate ship on its way to business negotiations, but little more than that. The local superpower, the Skeelzanian Sternreich, had almost completely dropped off the radar since its last disastrous incursion over the border and the subsequent events. Now, one democracy, Vendetta retraction, and bloody Imperial Restoration later, the powers that be felt it was time for Skeelzania to reassert itself.

A sub-etha transmission, un-encoded and written particularly "loud" so as to make sure everyone heard it, soon arrived at just about every national capital or consulate in the Sol system. Most would throw it out immediately, since they rightly had nothing to do with the situation, but others would find it quite relevant.

<Imperial Foreign Ministry Official Declaration>
Nations of the Sol System currently involved in the latest land-grab, greetings from the Gamma Quadrant and the Skeelzanian Sternreich. We have been monitoring the current situation with some interest, as it reminds us of past tribulations in Sol and one of our few allies is deeply involved. Although Skeelzania no longer has any claims on the Sol System, we feel that we are obligated to express our dissatisfaction with Angstian actions on Neptune.

Imperial Lawyers have reviewed the situation, from the original Moontian claims all the way to the latest maneuvers, and we must side whole-heartedly with the Allanean claim. The Moontian claim has been recognized by Skeelzania for well over three hundred years, and when that august nation decided to withdraw from Neptune, it unquestionably transferred ownership of its lands to Allanea. The actions of Der Angst, in our opinion, are nothing more than maneuvers to deprive Allanea of its soverign rights by unlawfully annexing, in effect stealing their new Neptunian territory.

We feel that, as allies, we cannot allow this blatant thievery to go unchallenged. In the strongest possible terms we condemn Der Angst and its actions, and demand a complete stand down of their forces from the Neptune Situation. The same is asked of their allies. The land in question was undeniably Moontian and is now undeniably Allanean, no amount of bullying can change that fact. If Der Angst and its allies do not stand down, Skeelzania will be forced to act in the best interests of Allanea.
<End Transmission>

To make this as simple as possible: Fractal Universe Split. Everyone who recognises Allanea's existence: That way ---> (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=430908).

Everyone who doesn't and fails to see why Neptune should end up being an empty wasteland just because a nation that (In their universe) sunk into the mantle suddenly holds the majority of Neptune: They stay in here.

End of story.

I know it sounds wanky (Hell, it is wanky) to simply ignore $nation having a legal grip over $territory and carving it up under themselves, but Me, Britmattia, Sentient Peoples, Roania, This United State and Taurenor all ceased to recognise Allanea long before Neptune became an issue, so there isn't really a 'OMG I WANT THIS!' intend. And while I admit that there is undoubtedly some gloating about the issue among us, the simple fact is that no matter if this happens or not, nothing changes. Allanea has its universe, we have ours. It's as simple as that.

DA Earth, Hollow Island

The Council members present (Few) found the message vaguely amusing. Granted, given the Multiverse's usual attitude with regards to territorial areas suddenly ending up being 'free', it was, in fact, likely that a good number of nations would try to grab $Territory. As such, it wasn't exactly hard to jump to conclusions.

Still... Nothing was known, and why they should care about an entity that existed only in some bizarre dimensions of the fractal multiverse they lived in was beyond the High Council, just as it was beyond the average citizen.

The communication that followed... Well, actually, that was a little problem, given that DA had no QE ties with Skeelzania, and no other FTL communications system was available (Spacedy Third World, they were). The only reason they had actually received the transmission (After a while) had been some friendly neighbors (Well, that or foreign news services).

In any case, they would try to bounce the reply off by way of Moontian or Jordaxia. Perhaps it would actually arrive.

From: The Hypocrisy of Der Angst
To: Skeelzania
Subject: Complains about... Well, actually, we're not really sure about what.

"Once more, we're puzzled by the foreign reactions to... Well, something we're not entirely (Well, actually, not at all) aware of happening. This time, due to your transmission (Incidentally, next time, please send a ship, or alternatively, organise the exchange of a QE line between our two nations, so we can talk directly. Much more... Suitable, that).

"Now, first of all: What actions? We're living here, and that is essentially all we're doing. Nothing else. Do you want to sue us for, well, breathing? That would be most unfortunate.

"Second: You, like many others, seem to exist in a slightly different dimensional plane of the universe, obviously allowing you to interact with a plane that features a slightly different timeline. Again, we cannot be held responsible for what happens in such special cases, as the events are, essentially, not within our might to even remotely control or influence.

"Third: We have no intentions whatsoever to expand our current Neptunian holdings (A floating city in its atmosphere. A small outpost on Triton. Two spacedy stations. The floating city and the outpost are inside the spherical areas of 0.2% of each celestial bodies' surface area (In the case of Neptune: Upper limit of the atmosphere) that are essentially the standard colonial territory DA uses in its off-world holdings. We see no reason to expand beyond this, no matter the presence or lack of neighbors. We have always been freindly towards any newcomers and have a history of firmly standing against exclusive planetary claims. And while we're the Hypocrisy, we're not that hypocritical.

"Fourth: Again: What actions? What forces (It isn't exactly a secret that given a certain civil war, our forces aren't exactly in their best state)? What allies? We're not aware of any of the things you're mentioning/ claiming. Mind to elaborate? Perhaps you have a clairvoyant. Of course, knowing what he knows would help us form a more efficient froeign policy, and as such, we would gladly accept his or her insight into the matters of the future."

Sincerely,

~ George Tamiya, High Council, The Hypocrisy of Der Angst

The beautiful thing about diplomacy is that it's all about lies. And by god, the reply was full of them (Of course, not only with them).

Luckily, it was rather unlikely that this lies were known as being lies, just yet. It would take a few more days to notice this particular fact.

OOC: I suggest you remove Taurenor from that list - he just told me he wouldn't participate.

IC:Official announcement of the Confederate States of Allanea

1. Under the authority vested in him by the Constitution of the Confederate States, President Demarque offers these terms of peace to the United Solaris Federation

2. Naiad and Proteus shall be handed over to the USF within the next 24 hours. The USF shall recognise the rights of the Confederate States to the rest of the territories accorded to it by Moontian.

OOC: Well I heard from many players Allenea is a troublesome player sometimes and this multiverse thing has popped up in II far too often as well I think it's best for me just to follow the other players here. DA, can you recognize this (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=9220612&postcount=10) being directed at you? Don't really want to stand at the sideline staring at people who recognize you on Neptune, with me floating around.

IC post pending while waiting for reply.

Well, assuming that Í have some way to catch an FTL signal due to you preparing transmission over secondary sources nearby, and assuming that I can use the same route to send a message back, yes.

A sigh (DD 01/09 was kinda glad that it had undergone the necessary changes to be able to sigh). "Well, sucks, but what can I do?"

From: DA Neptune, The Hypocrisy of Der Angst
To: Sirens of Titan, Christmas, Gliese 710 System
Subject: Possible Neptune colony

"Well, the situation is a little... Complex, and slightly, shall we say... 'Hot', but generally speaking, such a thing is certainly possible. Generally speaking, if you're interested, paying us a diplomatic visit would certainly be a suitable option, in order to streamline various interests."

Sincerly,

~ DD 01/09

OOC: Being unable to formulate a good IC post right now, I'll do an OOC one. In short, I do not buy your Fractal Universe Split, and will not accept it simply because you say so. I do not practice selective ignoring as a means towards acquiring territory, and only use IGNORE to rid myself of very troublesome n00bs. And even then, that is an IC exercise as Skeelzania has a few Star Goats stashed away somewhere, which are unleashed on the n00b in question.

The fact that many Solar nations have ignored Allanea does complicate the matter. Standard practice during these Ignore Triangles is to continue interacting with Nation A and Nation B simotaneously on the same reality, even if Nation A has ceased to acknolwedge Nation B's existance in any plane. Since Skeelzania plans to establish a base on Neptune (or in orbit) with land taken from Allanea, things are going to get very iffy if Der Angst claims ownership of the entire planet.

OOC: Skeelzania, I agree wholeheartedly. Is it possible for you to temporarily pull back whatever forces you have deployed?

OOC: Skeelzania, I agree wholeheartedly. Is it possible for you to temporarily pull back whatever forces you have deployed?

OOC: No forces have been deployed. If they had been, it would of been apparent.

With the typical star burst and gravity ripple, a Skeelzanian ship popped into real-space on the far reaches of the Solar System, roughly a light minute from Neptune's position. A Dosadi-R class battleship, it had been selected due to the fact that it was one of the few ships capable of near-instantaneous communication with the Sternreich.

After quickly raising shields and going to yellow alert, the ship began broadcasting a steady radio and sub-etha stream to Neptune. 'Written' in English, it was hopefully clear enough to be understood. This is the SKZ Creon, of the Skeelzanian Sternreich. We have been dispatched to act as a liason for Imperial interests for the remainder of the Neptune situation. Please refer all further messages to the Sternreich to this ship, where they will be relayed. That is all.

OOC: Okay, my position on the issue is somewhat screwy, but that's to be expected.

(1) I do not ignore Allanea. There have been times when I have wanted to just ignore him and be done with it in order to make my life quite a bit simpler, but that won't happen.

(2) IC-wise I've tried to make it common knowledge without being obnoxious about it that Weyr is looking for extraterrestrial territories. This is due to a variety of IC reasons which I may or may not go into here. I will certainly go into them when/if I expand into Haven. So this is not a random move on my part.

(3) I will also be prodding the Confederate States of Allanea IC-ly about securing the rights to the same things I plan to ask to be able to do from Der Angst. Namely --the permission to construct and freely operate materials collection and refining stations in Neptune's orbit. I couldn't care less about the moons because quite honestly most of them are just glorified asteroids. So this (hopefully) will allow me to continue my current position.

(4)For the record, remember that it's quite expensive to maintain fleets all over the galaxy, and that sending one of those fleets to the backwaters of Neptune does not invite a particularly welcome or diplomatic response. It takes around thirty minutes to travel from Terra to just Mars at the speed of light, not to mention Neptune. Space is big, and travel times at anything except FTL should not be measured in minutes this far away from the more settled area of Sol.

Weyr did not let its military handle diplomacy. The concept of letting someone with the power to raze a continent at his fingertips handle negotiations was a scary thought. Such a person was always liable to forget that the other guy might have bigger guns. Granted, the only ships operating this far out were stock frigates on regular patrol of commercial columns, but that just meant the skipper would be bored out of her mind and more interested in talking about the solar wind than politics.

Although military ships were not seen as useful for diplomacy, they were certainly perfect for signal relays, which was why the communication source to the Hypocrisy’s Neptune-based holdings was probably pegged as Unnecessary Cleavage, whose outsystem-bound patrol route would put her quite a few billion kilometers closer to Neptune than Weyr's Earth-bound stations.

"Communications, receptions," the entire officer complement of the Cleavage was sitting in the CIC, listening to the message. There wasn't much else they could do, with subEtha traffic off limits for reasons that defied explanation. In theory, using a subEtha netlink made a ship incredibly visible, but so did a pair of fusactors, never mind ones as old as those used by the Cleavage. It was sort of interesting to watch two nearly identical messages go out across the fractal realities, both of them asking for rights to set up shop in Neptune's atmosphere extracting gasses, in one case under Angstian supervision.

OOC: Well. I am proceeding, and I'm hoping that you will all understand if I say 'the person who causes the most OOC problems for me will be ignored by me'. With the deepest respect for both of you, this is childish and foolish. It's a planet. It's a large planet.

I'm sending in the Divine Imperial Stellar Trade Coster. And if I deem it neccessary, I willsend in a fleet to clear the area of certain individuals who are trying to hold back the progress of trade.

You know who you are. *glares at everyone except Rezo and Weyr, regardless of his OOC or IC attitude to any of you. Decides to come up with a new word: N-OOC (Neptune-Out of Character).*

N-OOC: Rezo, I'm assuming that since the DISTC will only be placing trading cities with a small guard section, this will be okay:

IC:

Ambassador James, the 15th Baron Lan, stepped into the marbled halls of Pinnacle2 from his shuttle. The asteroid was being moved into place by freelance captains. While he waited, the man looked around the sumptious entrance hall. The headquarters of the Divine Imperial interStellar Trading Coster (a subsidy of the Imperial Trade Guild) had been fitted with what deemed absolutely neccessary for a fitting quality of life. "What news from the planet's surface?" He asked the nearest guildsman.

The robed merchant elegantly shrugged. "The Der Angstians are having difficulties of some sort. Hopefully it will be sorted out by the time we are in orbit and ready to launch Lakutika." The fat man waved a ringed hand and smiled obliquely.

"I don't need to tell you the Imperial Government will be displeased if this goes bad, guildsman." Lan snapped.

"All will be fine, and the city will be launched in about...an hour. Barring accidents."

Lan nodded. Around his neck the necklace hung, a necklace that held a rather interesting device. If anyone fired upon this vessel, he would be able to call in a fleet. No one may attack the Firebird Cross with impunity.

OOC: This is absurd. The reason DA started another thread was to keep this seperate for the people who ignore Allanea. I've ignored Allanea for something approaching 8 months now, so frankly, accusing me of selectively ignoring to justify a land grab is utter crap.

As Allanea DOES NOT EXIST for me or the people DA invited to participate in the thread, when Moonistan withdrew, it opened the moons up to anyone who wanted them, as a treaty cannot exist with Allanea in this reality. Anyone who wishes to only interact with one side or the other will have no problems accepting a reality split. If you wish to interact with both sides, Neptune has 20-odd moons now.

DEAL WITH IT.

I hope that's clear enough. Now stop whining and RP. As Allanean RP is not welcome (due to the ignore) I would suggest he stop and go back to the original thread, but it's his choice. I'm sure DA would be delighted to have an excuse to ask a mod to remove Allanea's posts.

I'll IC post in the morning. Too tired (and thanks to y'all) annoyed, to IC post now.

OOC: Roania, certain points:

a) I don't WANT all of the bloody thing (though). I want to be able to keep Nereid and bits of Triton so they will be acknowledged in all realities [empty land in Rezo's, settlements in mine.

b)As you see, nobody had a problem when Moontian held the same territories, but when he gave them to me the bickering started.

c)As for FSP's comment, while his IGNORE is not selective (though silly), using it for this purpose is still err wrong in my humlbe opinion.

(...)OOC: Aye, thanks!

IC:
From: Sirens of Titan, Christmas, Gliese 710 System
To: DA Neptune, The Hypocrisy of Der Angst
Subject: RE: Possible Neptune colony

::We are very pleased with the positive response to our message. We are looking forward to a betterment in the very limited relations between our nations. We will send a group of skilled cybernetic diplomats. With your permission, we will saddle up and go to Nepture right now. We wish you luck in your future quests to make the tense situation a little less flammable.::

- Cybernetic Diplomacy Unit swets-blackwell

On Christmas, the Sirens of Titan standard space envoy began to ready its ships to head for Neptune. For the first time in thousands of years after the Russian and Dutch people who already colonised parts of the Sol system between Mars and Jupiter were fed up about Sol matters and headed for Gliese 710, the decendants of these people would return. None of them were afraid, rather, they were anxious to see how Sol would be after so many long years.

A week or so later, the ships were ready. The only thing that remained is Der Angst's confirmation. It won't take long... We hope.

OOC: snip

OOC: I've already said I think the whole "multiverse" idea is silly and do not incorporate it into my interactions with other states. I try to find an IC alternative that results in more or less the same effects.

To that end, I have accepted DA's invitation to his conference on the condition I make no real allusion to Skeelzanian-Allanea relations. I'll just pretend your people so hate them that any mention of that nation causes them to fly into either a towering rage or sink into implerplexity, thus they will not be metioned.

IC:

The Creon hummed to life, its relayers locking on to the Der Angst signal and flashing a message.

We are delighted at Der Angst's invitation to establish relations with them in Sol. We hope your long history of friendliness to new comers will ease our already-rocky transition from galactic backwater to a friendly entity of Sol. To that end, we will be sending an envoy to meet with Der Angst representatives, and participate in some sort of resolution to the Neptune Situation.

Imperial lawyers felt quite smug after trapping the Angstians with their own satirical message. The Foreign Service wasn't quite sharing their feeling of elation, as they had the task of picking an envoy, acquiring transport and supplies, and then getting him the 40,000 light years through hyperspace to Sol. Eventually the envoy, one Count Serrat, was bundled onto his destroy and sent hurtling towards Sol. The DA had approximately two weeks to prepare for his arrival.

[ooc: This is a freeform RP game, which essentially means that you can do whatever you like as long as the people you RP with accept and acknowledge it. Therefore, if the people who RP with Allanea believe that he owns the land, that is for them to use in their RP world.

On the other hand, people who do not acknowledge or RP with Allanea do not have to put him or his storyline into theirs, which means potentially, two nations can occupy the same space, as their RPs will never cross.

Personally, I hate all this claiming of real life space, as it always leads to arguments over who owns what and all the usual flamefests that follow. No one on these forums RPs with everyone, and I admit that lots of the nations that appear on Nation States, unless I have direct contact with then, tend not to exist in my universe until I cross their path.

So, let us see an end to this argument, where people who use the same reality as Der Angst continue to RP in this thread, and those that have the same reality as Allanea continue to RP in their other thread. And those that acknowledge both will just be a bit confused when they look up at Neptune.]

Pinnacle2 floated quietly in space. Its simple exterior, studded with the occasional communication device, belied its garish and ornate exterior. Even in the depths of the void, the guild preferred to maintain its lifestyle. But there was one large (massive) room where all was functionality.

Pinnacle2 was where the cities were built. And now, in its immense storage hold, one completed city was waiting. The first of a group that would eventually hold millions of souls.

Lakutika.

(Glorified IC taggishness from Roania's Neptune Nation. I want to note now that I have every intention, as befits a merchant, of maintaining neutrality on Neptune for as long as I humanly can.)

OFFICIAL(ish) MODERATOR STATEMENT

Selective ignores, the multiverse, and fractal realities are not only commonly accepted practices in NS, they're damn near required for the consensual role-playing. There are plenty of people on NS that I largely ignore, simply because their nation doesn't "work" with mine. I don't run around trumpeting it, but it still exists.

Much like Gehenna stated, these things can cause confusion with people who interact with both parties, but people have managed before (like Nathi and HVS both being in 'Italy'). They can work it out for themselves.

Just as it would be unreasonable to forbid Allanea to come to Neptune because DA ignores him, it's unreasonable to expect DA to leave the Neptune system empty because someone he ignores has a claim (or force him to accept Allanea).

Those who accept Allanea and his claim, go to that thread. Those who don't accept Allanea and his claim, stay here. There's been just about enough OOC bickering over this. One group can't force the other to accept what they're doing, so stop it.

DA didn't barge into the Allanea thread, they kept it here. Allanea, please have the same curtesy.

Oh well. I don’t like split universes. I believe they cause more trouble, bickering, and frustration for everybody involved than they are worth. I don’t believe in the fractal universe concept at all. It’s a ridiculous and farcical one, and I believe there was a time in the history of this game where IGNOREs on the basis of ‘I don’t like their nation’ were not considered to be a good thing. Me? I ignore exactly two people, and I remind them of it when I have to. I solve the multiple RL locations problem much simpler than Fractal Reality - I simply believe that the surface of NS Earth is nearly infinite, and for some reason there’s an insane amount of Italian peninsulas, North-American continents, and Antarcticas on it. Don’t ask me why - the NS universe is insane as it is. But, to return to our point, I don’t believe in fractal universes. That’s just silly IMHO. RP is consensual - I am free to my own version of NS cosmogony and NS RP etiquette. This is my version. It works for me.

Now, I didn’t need or want Neptune - as all of you would have discovered if you waited for 15 seconds before starting it this - silly thread. Yes, I have arguments agaisnt it existing even in Rezo’s "universe". But you know what? I am going to avoid the bad blood, the arguments, and everything else. I am going to defractalize my universe as much as I can. I am going to leave Neptune to you people, and I am going to allow you to spend resources on it, or benefit from it, stage character RP’s or NidWarZ, build uberweapons and point them at Io, or to blast young nations because they want a bit of land. This your choice. I hope you don’t mind. I would like to thank Moontian and everybody else for trying to help me here.

I like you people - even those of you who really don’t like me. This thread - and the channel logs predating it- proves once more that you people really don’t like me. I do like you though - all of you.

I like Der Angst with his hat-full of various interesting nations - how many different, detailed, and sometimes even funny nations do you even have, dude? Kremlings, Zh’adum, Ruet, Der Angst, anything I don’t know about - yes, Der Angst is a great RPer. Even though I don’t always like what he does OOC.

I like the Sentient People’s player - even though he does RP a nation of uppity fascists, they are uppity fascists with style and he’s good at it. I did end up learning from him - just when he got out of the hobby of ‘schooling’ me. Which is the way it always happens, I suppose.

Yamatto - the Britmattian player - I don’t really know well. I know him from IRC and he’s a nice guy.

So I am not going to argue with you. I don’t want you to hate me more than you do already. And I don’t want to do the fractal universe dance, because I hate it to the depths of my soul and I will not do it for the reason of gaining some territory only to give it away to nations I like. I respect you people as players and I hope one day you will learn to reciprocate this.

Speak of it, this has enticed me to start leaving Sol RP for a while. So long. Thanks for the fish. I would like to use this opportunity to thank:

1. The player behind the Federation for helping me - unwittingly - understand what Allanea was all about and RP it vastly better.

2 . Der Angst, for saving Allanea once. I wonder if he remembers it now.

3. Roania - for the Tea Party idea. I know he didn’t do it for my benefit, but for some plan of his. It still worked for me. Thanks, Ro.

Neptune

T.U.S.

As secret as the initial contacts between the various interested parties and DA Neptune had been, with the craft being about to arrive, with preparations (Accomodations, communications, the likes) starting (Or rather, finishing) and some very understated understatements regarding the future from the governing body, a few small bits of information could hardly be hidden from the general public, the disadvantage of DA's rather invasive media.

And while the civil war on Earth (God alone knew how DA could stage this two things at the same time. Apparently, Angstians were used to critical balance acts. Or at least, liked to risk them) was of course receiving most of the media coverage, some news about Poseidon being the choosen place for some high-profile negotiations about something (A something that really wasn't hard to guess) simply began spreading, anyway, to the annoyance (But not to the surprise) of Professor Marius Takashi & SCD 1/1.

Well, it didn't really matter. For now, the only noticeable effect were a few floaty drones and a few less human journalists waiting for the T.U.S. delegation at port #4, invading the arriving delegation with a hail of questions while shoving DD 01/09 out of the way.

Fortunately, the T.U.S delegation was holding numerical superiority, and the murder of lawyers proved to be surprisingly effective when it came to escorting the delegation towards DD 01/09 & the hallway leading to the quarters prepared for the various delegations.

"PLEASE! A Q-"

"CAN YOU GUARANTEE MY CLIENTS SECRECY?"

"NO, I, Errr... ACK! NO! PLEASE STAY!"

"WHAT IS YOUR PURP-"

"ANY KIND OF INFORMATION FROM MY CLIENT IS CONFIDENTIAL AND CANNOT BE USED AGAINST HER! OUT OF THE WAY!"

After a few brief moments of equally brief, wrestlingesque communication, the (Large) delegation stood in the hallway, for now safe from the journalists (The advantage of the now sealed door), with DD 01/09 floating in front of it, a little confused but quickly regaining its senses. "Well, Errr..." It glanced at whom it supposed to be the leader of the excessively numerous delegation. "Welcome on Poseidon, I hope the scene a minute ago wasn't too disconcerting... Oh, and I'm DD 01/09, Diplomatic Drone, certified sentient according to the Poseidon Protocol. Ahem. We will make sure that our journalists will be somewhat less, ah... Invasive in the future. In any case..." It glanced at the thirty-odd people in the hallway, all of them significanly taller than DD 01/09 itself. Floating on eye height, it continued. "Well, that's a lot of people... More than we expected. Still, if you would follow me to your quarters, and we will, errr... Organise a few more, later today. Incidentally, you're the first to arrive so you will have time to get used to the surroundings. You're of course free to visit the city and all that, and we also have some nice barges, so if you want to toy a little with Neptune's hurricanes, that is certainly a possibility. As for the conference itself, well, the hall... well, room is on this level, ah, yes..." It nodded to its right. "Down that passageway. Impossible to miss."

The group continued along the corridors, most of them rather clean and white/ grey, sometimes metallic, sometimes more organic looking, passing by the occasional human, drone, or domesticated fauna (Hard to imagine a DA settlement without psionic magpies), the whole thing looking almost unreal to a person that had already visited other DA settlements. Of course, given the usual nature of DA settlements, this was a good thing.

Eventually reaching the quarters by passing along a few paintings of surreal-apocalyptic and technocratic-cold content (And a Hello Kitty image), DD 01/09 turned again, ending its previous, sightseeing-touresque torrent of words, nodding slightly by way of tipping forward, a little. "Well... Any particular questions before or while you're getting settled?"

Elsewhere, the delegation's package was taken care of.

Britmattia

The sight Mentathiel FitzWarwick could enjoy when the Marchant Class Yacht arrived at Neptune was decidedly unimpressive. A few remaining Moontian ships, a few more DA ships, the very same ships that had watched the Britmattian fleet fighting at Neptune without doing all that much to help them (Which said something about their motivation, or rather, their lack of said motivation).

The Absence of Common Sense chuckled, remembering the fight.

<SEU Absence of Common Sense> Well, there they are, again. Ok, a slightly smaller fleet, this time. Errr... A barge... Yacht.
<TEU Technically a Pacifist> Hrm. Cute, they look. Ah, they're docking.
<SEU Absence of Common Sense> Apparently. Not much time visiting the system, it seems.
<SEU Space Gnome> To be fair, there's not much to see here.
<SEU Absence of Common Sense> Point. Wonder if they remember us. I think our inaction resulted in a few ten-thousand Britmattians dying in order to secure Scylla.
<TEU Technically a Pacifist> If they do, they might have problems fighting their urge to shoot us.
<SEU Space Gnome> Luckily, it's a Yacht, not a cruiser.

The conversation continued for a while (Well, actually, it never really stopped), but that was not really an issue for Mentathiel FitzWarwick, who eventually entered Poseidon.

Quite unlike the T.U.S. arrival, no journalists whatsoever were present, courtesy of the Britmattians chosing a far more restrained (And as such, less noticeable) approach. Only a lonely- looking human lacking any kind of visible implants or alterations (Something diplomats were generally urged to do, in order to not upset potential partners), with the exception of her glasses, unnecessary but fashionable (Of course, unlike the glasses-fanatics, she hadn't undergone alterations to reduce her eyes' capacities. This would have been a little too much for her).

"Good afternoon. I'm Isabelle Koyomi." Said the asian-caucasian mongrel with her slightly chirpy voice. "Welcome on Poseidon. If I may show you the accomodations prepared for you...? Oh, and if it isn't too delicate a question, what are the Kingdom's interests in this particular issue?" A mischivous smile showed on her lips, for a second or two. "It always helps to be informed beforehand, and as DA itself doesn't have any intention of expanding beyond its current boundaries... Ms.?"

Midlonia

The Midlonians were essentially received the same way the Britmattians had been received, although Frederick Gustavson, their assigned mongrel of a diplomat and an accountant, was slightly mystified by them arriving with an actual warship. Granted, DA was slightly... Well, not militaristic, but still with a good amount of guns running around (Literally running around, given ts style of army), but there was a reason for diplomatic missions generally not being run with warcraft, if only to make the right impression.

And as far as as Frederick was concerned, the Midlonians had already managed a first, wrong impression.

"Your quarters." He pointed at the doors, behind which rather nice rooms, including aquariums and (In one case) a friendly kitten waited for the delegation. "I'm sure you can find your way around. Anything else I can do for you before the conference starts?"

Tiburon

The two-or-three-dozen warships DA still had stationed at Neptune looked warily at the Tiburonese battleships, not moving, but still contacting their graserdrones and organising some preliminary options. It was, of course, all rather theoretical, but still, showing up with such a fleet wasn't something SCD 1/1, The High Council in general, or DA Neptune in general were particularly fond of.

There weren't communications per se, only three SEU's changing their orbit, moving into an orbit about 500000 kilometres higher than the Tiburonese battleships, constantly burning bits and bytes of their fuel, while an equal amount of TEU's stayed a little closer to Neptune, in an orbit equally high, but about 3000 kilometres spinward to the Tiburonese battleships, watching.

Finally, one of them did the metaphorical 'knocking'.

<SEU Irradiated Junkyard> Say, don't you think this is a little excessive?

From: Poseidon, Semi-Sovereign Entity of DA Neptune, The Hypocrisy of Der Angst
To: The 83rd Expeditionary Battleship Fleet, The United Solaris Federation Aerospace Force, The United Solaris Federation of Tiburon
Subject: Negotiations for Neptunian Land

"Well... There seem to be a few missunderstandings regarding 'Claims', 'Offers' and the likes, given that we don't offer anything but our assistence in preventing hostilities between different parties, as well as that right now, 'claims' aren't exactly something we wish to hear about, as the conference is supposed to prevent conflicting interests turning into open hostilities, so we perfer to talk about interests rather than claims, and we would consider it to be rather useful if Tiburon chose to adopt the same terminology.

"Nonetheless, Secretary of State Ainterya Tsulakia is of course more than welcome to partake in the negotiations regarding Neptune's future, and we would be more than happy to accomodate her for the time being."

Sincerely,

~ Professor Marius Takashi, High Council of DA Neptune

Given the slightly negative opinion the DA diplomats had about Midlonia showing up in a mere destroyer, their feelings with regards to Tiburon showing up with eight battleships were comparatively easy to imagine.

Still, both, the journalists and Irene Perosteck were rather careful with regards to actually articulating their... Displeasure (Perosteck) or surprise and outright discomfort (Journalists). The journalists asked a few questions ("Eight battleships and no support? Huh?" - "Isn't this a bit much, given the rather peaceful occasion?"), Perosteck answered a few in place of the Tiburonese delegation ("Given the outright threats we have received, I think the Tiburonese concerns are valid, and their move is entirely understandable.")

But in the end, it was all fairly civilised, and once Irene Perostec had made sure that Ainterya Tsulakia got familiar with her quarters and the general mood of the station, the waiting for the, well, opening round began.

To be fair, there was more than enough literature and autiovisual entertainment available to make the waiting acceptable. Granted, it was possibly a bit of a faux pas to add a collection of adult 3D movies to Ainterya Tsulakia suite, but, well... Perhaps she would oversee them.

Skeelzania

"Well, better than nothing."

"You think so?"

"Yes."

The two men were playing a game of chess and not paying all that much attention to the communications and transmissions they received via implants or through the options excessive biogenetic modifications offered them. Of couse they had noticed the Skeelzanian transmission. Of course they had noticed that it was another warship, annoyingly (Although they had to be fair: Given the acts of violence Skeelzania had suffered from in the past, this move was actually understandable. But then, so was Tiburon's move, given the hostility of certain nations. The bad impression remained).

A pawn moved, followed by a queen, a bishop, another bishop...

"Fuck. There goes my queen. Oh, and your king. Checkmate."

"... I hate you. Anyway... Back to work."

This said, he quickly logged into a local network, accessed some medium-range installations, and replied. En clair, of course, given the lack on code-exchanges with Skeelzania.

Understood. "Hrm. Actually, I think I should identify myself..."

"Yes, you should."

Oh, and this is Poseidon, Neptune, DA. Well, you should be able to backtrack it, anyway. If you've something important to say, just shoot... I mean, metaphorical shoot, of course... We will be as attentive as humanly possible.

A few moments of silence followed.

Want some tea?

Weyr

The Weyrans (One of the few societies Angstians actually had respect, rather than mild disregard for) were of course offered a place in the negotiations, too, once they asked about a place to build their... 'Mining bases' (Odd, that, given that DA found it to be far more comfortable to produce the gasses in question on Earth, but hey..). Of course, technically, DA didn't actually claim jurisdiction over Neptune (As it would be impossible to enforce), so the Diplomats found the request mildly odd, but they certainly weren't complaining. After all, it would only help their reputation. Of course, they couldn't see just how problems would arise with regards to mere stations, but then, well... International relations tended to be odd, at times.

Most of the time, really.

Besides, it would probably give the wrong signal to grant Weyr instant-clearance while requiring (Well, offering, not requiring, but still) negotiations with and between everyone else. Last but not least, given that the DA diplomats considered Weyr to be vaguely sane (Although they were quite possible alone with this opinion), it would probably be helpful as a mediator between the other interested parties, and given the sheer amount of interests that were about to clash, every help was more than welcome.

All the Weyrans had to do was to arrive, and while the Weyran fleet was hardly what one would consider 'numerous' or 'powerful' or 'Anywhere above a state of disrepair' (Very unfortunate, that, given the theoretical technological capacities Weyr had, which far exceeded DA's own technological capacities. Alas, fate had choosen to hit Weyr even worse than DA. Or at least, equally worse), they would surely manage to find one ship to arrive.

Roania ***

The SEUs & TEUs (Also a few (Very few) Carriers, but no OACs at all) orbiting Neptune looked curiously at the object, having little trouble in finding out who was the source nation.

Certainly not a society an Angstian would (Under normal conditions) be fond of.

Still, that alone was hardly a reason to go in all badass-like. It was however, a reason to be mildly annoyed. A good deal more annoyed than with, say, the Tiburonese.

Eventually, the SEU DEAT on Sight took it upon herself to 'knock' on what she supposed was a quick way to get into contact with someone important.

<SEU DEAT on Sight> Say... Could I perhaps talk to whoever's in charge of this operation? I guess Roanian diplomatic isolation resulted in a few... Mistakes regarding the present situation. Given this, it would be a good idea if we could... Clear up said mistakes before someone missunderstands the intentions of the other side, which would be exceptionally tragic.

It hesitated, checking some information it got from Poseidon's core.

<SEU DEAT on Sight> Actually, I've been wrong, my apologies. Apparently your government is more or less well informed about the multinational negotiations regarding Neptune that are supposed to take place. And while I, personally, am having no problems whatsoever with your coosen course of action, I feel that my superiors, as well as possibly several foreign governments either are or might be annoyed with your somewhat quick actions. Thus I have to wonder. Would it be particularly problematic if you could do the first step before the second, and wait like everyone else? Such would be much appreciated, and it would most definitely help Roania's international reputation.
<SEU DEAT on Sight> Oh, right, I'm not even sure if I'm talking to the right person. If not, I'm sure you will relay it, yes? Thanks in advance.

Sirens of Titan

The diplomatic drone (DD 01/08, this time) chuckled a little at the phrase 'Very Limited Relations'.

Must be an euphemism for 'Zero', heh.

Well... It was their choice of words, and DD 01/08 could hardly complain. It could, however, answer, and that it did soon enough.

From: Poseidon, Semi-Sovereign Entity of DA Neptune, The Hypocrisy of Der Angst
To: Sirens of Titan, Christmas, Gliese 710 System
Subject: Neptune

"Skilled, hm? Well, we will hope for the best. Anyway, after checking back with the local and the overall council, yes, permission granted. Although I would note that such was already inexplicitly included in the first message, but nevermind.

"Bon voyage."

~ DD 01/08, representating the High Council of DA Neptune & The Hypocrisy of Der Angst

Skeelzania #2

"Tamiya is an idiot."

"Hrm?" SCD 1/1 looked at Takashi, confused.

"His wording. The Skeelzanians took it as an invitation."

"... Oi."

"Oi indeed. Well..." Tamiya sighed. "We will have to deal with it, I guess. And them, of course. Don't want to look like the bad guys."

"Annoying..."

"Yes. Quite so. Worst case scenario would be the shooty freaks from ZMI or the Midlonians opening fire on them. Then we would have a wonderful war, and most likely here, despite neither of them having a presence in the Neptune subsystem."

"Yes, I see. So?"

"Well, we will have to accept them. Their diplomats will of course have diplomatic immunity when inside Poseidon or Scylla/ Charybdis. Not sure what our 'friends' will do to the Skeelzanian ship, tho."

"Wanna make a bet? A trillion Platin Coins on them being blown out of the sky by ZMI." *

"Deal."

---

The two men were still playing chess (A new game, though), and took their time to reply. About an hour, in fact (But then, this was partly due to a short circuit slowing things down). But still, they replied.

Well, one replied.

You're certainly welcome, and your envoy will be met with all the courtesy we're capable of (Although we would advise you to be careful, as we suppose that some of the other participants wont necessarily have our own courtesy).

As such, he or she may arrive at any time, and we can hardly wait to achive some more in-depth contacts between our two nations. Should additional security measures be required, we would of course be perfectly willing to offer those, too, be it a ride or non-sentient bodyguards.

"You know, there is still the question if he will make it in time."

"Indeed. Crossing half the galaxy.. Oh well. We will see, no?"

"Indeed. I mean, the Cream managed it, soo..." **

"Creon."

"Oh, right. My bad."

ooc: * 100% inflation, so... Not exactly the value of a trillion Euro. Perhaps about a million... Oh, and Platin Coins just have the name. No real platin. It's mostly virtual, anyway.

** Fluid time is, of course, perfectly acceptable. Have him arrive in the next post, if you wish to do so.

*** I've trouble connecting your first and second post together. It's either that you're as good as ready (And preparing) to launch the city, or that you're still a couple (dozen?) million kilometres away. My post is based on the first option because it was, well, more amusing to write, although it might be a bit unfair. If issues arise, -> irc.

Reports and Instructions to IRD2

- HA satellites report increase in space launch frequency from GPE military facilities…

- Sentient Intelligence Resources within ZMI confirm major sale of first generation space hardware, military…

- Orbital Traffic Monitoring reports high density orbital intersection between ZMI/GPE orbital units at S3…

- Commerce Network Monitoring reports major funds transfer: GPE to ZMI…

Conclusion: GPE major purchase from ZMI is first generation space hardware. GPE attempt to become global/interplanetary power. Likely expansionist. GPE remains no direct threat.

Recommndations: Increase GPE to Intelligence/Threat Level 3. No military or diplomatic action recommended.

-Orbital Traffic Monitoring reports removal of all Moonistan orbital assets at S3…

- Outer System Array reports heavy transport activity in S8 subsystem, centered on Moonistan claims…

- IRD reports Der Angstian (Neptune) concerns of possible disagreeable elements moving into S8 subsystem. Requests assistance/counsel…

Conclusion: Valid concerns about S8 subsystem security are raised following unprecedented Moonistan total withdrawl, concerning raider/pirate activity and ESPECIALLY concerning recent GPE developments.

Recommendations: Redeploy PFTG to vicinity S8. Dispatch IRD2 to Poseidon Base (DANep) to council, RE: Move to prevent claims of Moonistan facilities by non-friendly powers, secure possible friendly/allied/Federal colony/basing facility. Use all means required to prevent GPE foothold in S8 subsystem.

End reports

Bruce –

Here’s the synopsis. Raw data is attached if you want to look at it. I agree with the conclusions CID has drawn. I know you were looking forward to a break after Britmattia, preferably somewhere warm, but I swear you can have a two month vacation after this. Full authorization. Use your judgement. If you need me, the shuttle is tied to TacNet. I trust you.

~D’ron

* * * * *

Bruce sighed as he wiped the last bits of sleep from his eyes, and refocused on the message the President had appended to the bottom of the report. Damn right I’m getting a vacation. Rebecca and I and a beach and that’s it. He leaned back in the comfortable chair in the VIP shuttle, lost in his own thoughts before a voice broke into his pensive moment.

“Mister Ambassador, you might wanna come look at this.”

Dragging himself up out of the chair, he ducked into the cockpit and looked at the screen. Some of the things he could read, like the display showing nearby ships, including the eighteen ships of the nearby Patrol Fleet Task Group. He knew if queried, the computers would tell him which group it was, but he did not care enough. Instead his attention was focused on the main screen, which seemed to show Neptune and its moons. But it was blurred, almost. “What is it, Lieutenant? Is the screen blurred?”

“No sir, we seem to be observing some sort of reality split covering most of Neptune and its moons. It’s warping space-time, which is why gravitics and our other sensors can pick it up.”

“It looks like the moons are doubling, to me, and the second set is vanishing.”

“Yes sir, that’s exactly what the sensors are telling us. I’ve seen this before, but at this scale, it seems almost unreal.”

“It certainly does,” Bruce agreed. “Make sure you get full recordings. I’m sure someone is very interested in this phenomenon. But we appear to be in range of DANep. Ask for permission to approach. Tell me when we arrive.” He headed back to the passenger area, thoroughly impressed by the visual of the reality dysfunction…

* * * * *

As the small, purely defensively armed Eagle-class diplomatic shuttle swooped closer to the outer gas giant, a radio message speared out. “This is FSP Diplomatic Transport Eagle Nine Seven, requesting approach instructions to Poseidon Base.”

The FDK expected nothing less from the Angstians, but they would nit be arriving on a ship, at least not for the conference. Work was started on the Blue Girl project, for the moment an embryo team working on concepts and the mission needs document that would be sent to an as of yet nonexistent technical team. But that part was not yet important. What was important to both the Ministry of Economy, Trade, and Industry and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, was that there was a trusted person handling the diplomatic aspect. With no non-military ships available for rapid transit to Neptune, it was decided that the Weyrean delegation, at least, would communicate via a remote uplink. It was cheaper than borrowing a military cruiser, and less dangerous.

Ambassador Lan, after delivering a sound series of painful kicks to the posterior of the Guild Captain on the Pinnacle2, grabbed the commwave from him and glared at every single person in reach. "You weren't speaking to the right person before, but you are now. The Roanian Government has authorised a private company to begin trading on Neptune, despite my...profound objections."

The ambassador sighed and bowed shortly, to absolutely no one in particular. Then he drew his cape around himself and nodded. "For the time being, though, this is an Imperial venture and I will handle negotiations. Forgive them, they are... rather jumpy here. I shall take a shuttle to Posiedon immediately."

OOC: The second post was more of an IC tag, and I was going more for just 'here we are and this is what we intend to do' than any actual action. Your first impression is indeed correct. Sorry for the problem.

OOC: Adult 3D movies? 0_0;

IC:
From: The 83rd Expeditionary Battleship Fleet, The United Solaris Federation Aerospace Force, The United Solaris Federation of Tiburon
To: Poseidon, Semi-Sovereign Entity of DA Neptune, The Hypocrisy of Der Angst
Cc: <Mailing List=Prospective Nations of Neptune>
<Mailing List=News Organizations Assembled at the Conference>
Subject: Negotiations for Neptunian Land

Professor Takashi,

The USF thorougly apologizes for any confusion, inconveniences, and disturbances caused by the present fleet. Because the fleet was sent before we learned of the development of this peaceful conference, as well as because of concerns with security that had previously arisen centering around the conflict with Skeelzania as well as those that have arisen, we could not recall the fleet before it carried out its mission. However, having accomplished our mission in delivering Secretary of State Tsulakia to DA Neptune, we agree that our military presence here is unnecessary, and shall disband the 83rd Expeditionary Battleship Fleet (which existed solely for the mission previously stated) and return seven of our eight battleships to USF territory. The one remaining behind, however, is necessary, given that it contains most of the equipment needed to preliminarily survey the area that we will have after the conference.

In addition, we apologize sincerely for the unease that we may have caused by using the term "claims" instead of "interests", and agree that the latter is a more preferrable term to use during the negotiations.

Sincerely,
Secretary of State Ainterya Tsulakia,
Brigadier General Matthew Halsey,
The United Solaris Federation of Tiburon

OOC: Adult 3D movies? 0_0;
OOC: When did I start trading with DA: Neptune? o_O

Things were getting rather tedious on board the Creon, especially after having spent 10 months on station before being ordered to Sol. Sitting alone, in a de facto hostile system, far from support, was beginning to wear on nerves when the SKZ Ridder arrived on the scene. Looking very like a younger brother to the battleship, the Nidhogg-class destroyer followed its example by rapidly bringing its shields and weapons online. Colored lights began playing down the two ship’s hulls, flashing semaphore messages to one another. After a rather garish red flash, the Ridder’s engines burst to life, propelling the ship towards Neptune, apparently ignoring the ‘probable-hostile’ warships.

Reaching a slightly more reasonable range, the destroyer released its cargo. The black-and-red shuttle ‘dropped’ from the underside hanger, and blasted its way towards Neptune and Poseidon. A message arrived from the Creon almost simultaneously, informing Der Angst that the Skeelzanian representative would be arriving in less than hour.

Just before DD 01/09 had finished speaking, the entire 30 person delegation in the hall, all dressed in the finery of sharp black or dark-grey business-wear of various but conservatives cuts, went into what can only be described as action ...

( Even more so then defeating an entire host of journalists, even ! )

The 3 Justice Directorate team members " stormed " ( In a very restrained, as a sign of respect to their hosts ) the 3 suites set aside for the use of their delegation, and within seconds had checked each room and given a nod to the murder of lawyers in the hall. They then re-entered, and in as an un-obtrusive fashion as possible, began to check for listening, or other such similar, devices.

And " stray " magpies ...

( None of the female members, nor some of the male, of the delegation were likely to at all enjoy their designer-minimalist, titanium alloy jewelery being levitated off while they weren't paying attention, were they ? )

The 6 Commerce and Education Directorate members stepped into the suite which was the furtherest away from the hall entry, and began to make them-selves most comfortable, as well as trying not to get in the way of the lone Justice Directorate member still sweeping the room they'd since chosen. From within suit jackets, folders emerged and were examined, while the odd luxury-leather attache case was opened and more documents, used more for their old-world charm than any actual practical features, spilled out onto work surfaces. These were backed up by various hand-held personal, electronic .. well, things. A low murmur of conversation began to cycle into the hall, though this was nothing compared to the flurry of secure communication via their implants. One of them located the " gear " in the suite to make a nice cup of coffee, and the aroma soon filled the room.

By then, the 2 other Justice Directorate members stepped in from the pair of suites they'd since given the once, twice and thrice over to and joined the crowd, bumping it up to 9, though it was still more cosy than cramped.

Each of the 3 Defense Directorate " advisers ", all of whom were 20-something and of lean body and steel-rod-straight backs, took up a " gurard " position out-side of each door. Obvious purpose ? Yes, but they could always communicate with the delegation over their implants, so it was no big deal for them not to attend, really. It was also a measure of security for the delegation, both physical and mental.

This left about 18 or so people ( Not counting the D.D. / Body Guard detail standing in position ) in the hall, all of which were the murder of Lawyers, 9 of which then made their way towards the direction that DD 01/09 had indicated would hold the conferance, while 8 made their way into the suite, though some did by then have to lean against the wall or sit on the floor in the lounge area to be able to fit ...

So in a period of less than a minute, the hall was near empty ( Compared to the last few long moments ) save the Detail and the departing legal-eagles, and so the last, and yes, most senior if still just as anonymous lawyer in the hall with DD 01/09 stated :

" Well, yes, first off, when do you serve lunch ? "

There were other questions of course, though this was most immediate in their mind ...

In high orbit 10,000 km beyond Nereid, the Imperial Fleet gathered for a meeting between the commanding officers and the Emperor, to take place about the Imperial Heronmark.

"What's going on with Der Angst?"
"Sir, it appears they're organising a little meeting between leaders of several nations. It's probably to work out who gets what, since they don't recognise Allanea's existance."
"Hmm, that's interesting. If they don't recognise the existance of Allanea, then our people have decided to go on non-existant spacecraft, which would mean that our people are still there on the largest moons. Anyone wishing to annex the territory would need to get through us. This could be fun. How's the rest of the fleet coming along?"
"Sir, the Tritonite Force will be arriving from Alpha Circini within one Earth day. The Nereidan Taskforce will be here from Lambda Ophiuchi three days after that, and the Dionnian Armada should be here in a couple of hours."
"It's a good thing we don't have any major enemies coming at our other systems. Very good. Let's get back to our defensive pattern. Dragorans and smaller to take the tiny outer moons, Heronmarks and Aiel to coordinate defense of the major inner moons, Estreens to handle the small inner moons. Send the orders to the other fleets when they arrive."

OOC : Moontian, read again ;

Moderator (ish) Ruling ... (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=9224681&postcount=35)

Allanea actually pretty much resolves entire issue ... (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=9225072&postcount=36)

Gehenna made a good point, too.

So post - IGNORED - thankee ...

OOC: As I understand them, Mods don't have any jurisdiction over RP matters, unless of course you went off and called someone a poopy-head in a clearly OOC fashion. Maybe I'm wrong, but thats how I see it. In that light, Hack's "Moderator (ish)" ruling is more akin to respected advice that need not be taken, rather than a fiat.

However, I would like to ask Moontian, as a former ESUS member, to not muck this up by reversing your entire stance. This is probably my last, best chance to establish relations in Sol without starting a bloodbath. Of course, you are under no obligation to fulfill my wishes as you are, of course, your own man and can do whatever you want in this regard.

In that light, Hack's "Moderator (ish)" ruling is more akin to respected advice that need not be taken, rather than a fiat.Yesss... but it's advice that really should be taken, especially since continued OOC bitching or snide IC comments could easily be termed spam, which could result in post removal, warnings, and... well... far better to not go there.

OOC: As I understand them, Mods don't have any jurisdiction over RP matters, unless of course you went off and called someone a poopy-head in a clearly OOC fashion

Actually, we do. You'll notice certain RP topics are banned, for a start.

I repeat my statement, for Skeelzania (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=9225072&postcount=36)

oocness, hopefully the last bit of oocness we see in the thread.

Moontian: Check TG's. You should receive/ have received one from Allanea, too, as he seems to agree with the suggestion, at least he did so on irc. I'll thus disregard your last (Poor) ic post and hope that the next one runs according to what I suggested in the TG/ was accepted by Allanea.

Oh, and I will request the purge of any and all purely ooc posts as soon as the bickering stops/ the posts cease to be needed for reference. Could people please stop making them? Less work for whomever I'm going to whine at...

Neptune

Sentient Peoples

"This is Poseidon, A moment, please..."

A few second of silence, followed by a brief burst of data, including weather patterns in Neptune's atmosphere, approach vectors, local traffic, clearance for landing on (Well, in) port #3 and a 'Welcome to Neptune' message. The minds controlling DA's installations tended to be rather informal, and Poseidon's mind was no exception to the rule.

At port #3, DD 01/04 was waiting, patiently, looking through the window at the blue that surrounded the entirety of Poseidon and its surprising lack of horrible storms. A good time to arrive. Makes flying a little easier.

Rising a little, its tie hanging loosely from its case, it looked in the general direction of the hallway the Ambassador was supposed to come from, waiting.

Weyr

Weyr's decision was generally viewed with... Well, annoyance. Not that anyone really cared, as the general consensus was 'If they're not present they will miss the important parts and end up being fucked over', but, well, Weyrs decision.

As such, all Poseidon did was setting up the necessary links, connections and security measures (Few), and waited.

Just like the Weyrians did, it supposed.

Roania

The SEU DEAT on Sight looked curiously at Pinnackle2, its sensors catching EM emissions, ions, the approximate mass, penetration by cosmic background radiation & the sunwind, etc. A somewhat odd, if mildly boring construction.

... Well, it didn't actually have time for this, so it replied.

<SEU DEAT on Sight> I see. Well, this is unfortunate, but I'm sure that things can be worked out. After all, it's only a gesture of profound arrogance, combined with a distinct lack of consideration, nothing more. And... A second, please, stupid lightspeed lag... Ah, yes. Poseidon's of course delighted that you choose to come aboard, joining the negotiations. Have a nice day.

Of course, a diplomatic drone would wait for Ambassador Lan and show him the quarters, just like it was done for the other delegates. Standard procedure, really.

One could almost assume the DDs would get bored with it. Luckily, with nine different DDs available, such problems did hardly exist.

Tiburon

From: Poseidon, Semi-Sovereign Entity of DA Neptune, The Hypocrisy of Der Angst
To: The 83rd Expeditionary Battleship Fleet, The United Solaris Federation Aerospace Force, The United Solaris Federation of Tiburon
Subject: Negotiations for Neptunian Land

"Apology accepted, and no offence taken. Your position is doubtlessly understandable, and as mentioned before we're delighted to have Ainterya Tsulakia take part in the conference.

"This said, the only other thing I can think of as being a possible addition to this message is 'Welcome'."

Sincerely,

~ Professor Marius Takashi, High Council of DA Neptune

Skeelzania

Poseidon noticed the shuttle, and, sending a brief burst of unencoded data comparable to what the Sentient Peoples' shuttle had received (Including an 'I sincerely hope that none of the other nations present will try to shoot you down. I wish you luck!' message), waited for the whole thing to commence. Technically, it could bring the shuttle in on its own, in at least three different ways, but doing so would be terribly impolite.

In port #2, a human diplomat, Rei Osami, was waiting, rather curiously so, as she was exceptionally interested in what the Skeelzanians were like, person-to-person (She had trouble with getting the 'Sentient Crocodile' image out of her head). She had heard a few things, most of them culminating in 'Less diplomatic skill than Angstians' (Which said a lot), and the general assumption was that their individuals wouldn't be much different.

For her, it wasn't only a diplomatic job, it was more, well, kind of like a sociology (Or biology) project, observing a wholly foreign thing to learn more about it.

The only sad thing was that she couldn't really observe it in its own, natural habitat, but well, perhaps she could change this after the conference.

Meanwhile, in space, the TEU Improper Behaviour accelerated a little, moving towards the SKZ Ridder, while another TEU, the Pleasure of Discipline made the sightly longer trip to the SKZ Creon.

Both ships would, of course, stay way away from the Skeelzanian ships, at least 500000 kilometres, their weapons being as inactive as they had been before, as inactive as they were now. Both ships would properly introduce themselves, exchange a few polite phrases ('I'm here to make sure that the other participants recognise Skeelzanian diplomatic immunity and don't suddenly start shooting at you, which would be an infinitely tragic development. I hope you don't mind?') and generally be a pain in the ass, should conversation commence.

And both ships would use every available passive sensor to record any and all emissions of the two Skeelzanian vessels, every change in the immediate environment, everything they could 'see' without actually being invasive (Which would be a somewhat hostile, and not particularly nice act).

The Moontian ships were a well-known (And not particularly serious) factor. The Skeelzanian ships on the other hand interested the DA vessels, and knowing more certainly wouldn't hurt. As such, using this chance was certainly a good idea.

This United State

DD 01/09 blinked, watching the T.U.S. delegation... Acting.

Savages.

Inside the quarters, no listening devices were to be found, mainly because there were none. Well, at least for now. DD 01/09 was already contemplating certain options, though... If only as a reply to the apparent (But, given the general attitude of nations throughout the multiverse, not entirely unjustified) attitude of the T.U.S. delegation.

And it would be somewhat hard to detect a gnat recording audio data for a few minutes, just to vanish in the ventilation shaft, again.

A few levels below the quarters of the T.U.S. delegation, an older female (Apparently in her fifties, although the truth was that she was closer to her seventies than her fifties) looked up, noticing some odd traffic inside 'her' city.

I guess it would be impolite to record their own conversations.

Thought it and cut out the noise the implant-to-implant communications beteen the T.U.S. delegates made before she would become too invasive.

A few levels higher up, DD 01/09 was simply, well, glaring at the chaos, the distrust and the general... Insanity? of the T.U.S. delegation, idly thanking god that given his form, his glaring would go unnoticed.

He turned around, looking at the lawyer in question, rising a little above said lawyer's eye level (It was comforing to be looked up at). "Errr... Lunch? Anytime. Basically, well... Communication opportunities are available in your rooms, so you use them, log in, check what is available, and order it... Translations are of course available as well. So, for the time being..." It looked in the direction some of the lawyers had taken, vanishing from his sight. For a moment it wondered where the hallway led to, worried as it was. After all, a few foreign guests just vanishing somewhere wouldn't look good on his track record. "That's it, I take it?"

OOC: I would be OOC annoyed with the IC people, but it's my own fault for IC tagging in such way, of course. *shrug* Post tomorrow, of course. Sleep now.

http://photobucket.com/albums/v643/Yamatto/Kingdom%20Stuff/?action=view&current=otherb.png

Mentathiel smiles opaquely, unsure if the Angstian is asking her name or intentions, being a practical girl, she gives both.
"Mentathiel FitzWarwick, but call me Menta and ignore the last name, I'm only an adopted member."
She glid into step with the Angstian woman, a white-uniformed bodyguard falling in behind the pair as Menta shrugged.
"Our intentions? I don't see any great need to obfuscate over them, we want only a few things, firstly a naval base that's ah..."
The brunette purses her lips thoughtfully, struggling for the word.
"Subtle? I think will have to do. Having the Fleet in parking orbit over Ns is the complete opposite of this, and I'm told it's not very flexible tactically either."
A shrug, House Warwick dress blues wrinkling appealingly.
"Not that I'm a military buff of course, but still, it's obvious enough. The second reason isn't much more complicated. We want somewhere we can park Drop Bear and not bugger with tides. There were apparently complaints last time it came near Ns-Orbit, swamped some lower-lying country or something. Nowhere important in the great scheme of things, but not something we want to repeat either you know?"
She smiles disarmingly.
"Other than that, well, it's always nice to have options, and acquiring rights to Neptune space will increase the options we have."
An other smile.
"I hope that was what you wanted to hear? I'd be a terrible diplomat if it wasn't."

OOC: Final OOC note from me. DA, whats the proper way to refer to you and your people? Der Angstians?

IC:

Hurtling through the atmosphere with the cavalier attitude typical of Skeelzanian military pilots, the shuttle veritably slammed into the docking port. It simply hung there for a few moments, before its onboard computer figured out what to do and grabbed a-hold of every thing it could get its claws around. With a distinct thud the craft locked onto the station.

Various thuds, hisses, and clicking noises could be heard through the bulkhead separating the Skeelzanian craft from the station interior. After about a minute of this, the exterior hatch slid open. From the darkness within the shuttle stepped a giant.

Stooping to get his seven-foot frame into the Der Angst station, the Skeelzanian quickly straightened himself as soon as he was able. His uniform, black trousers and black tunic with red piping, was immaculate, as were the rows of medals over his left breast. A leather belt with the Spoot Star worked into its silver clasp looped around his waist; from this hung a dark leather scabbard containing a sword that looked anything but ceremonial. His boots were polished to a mirror shine, and Rei Osami could clearly see her reflection in them. The man himself was of average build, for a Skeelzanian, with moderately wide shoulders and a body obviously kept in peak physical form. His face was clean shaven, with a small scar running underneath his squarish jaw. Dark hair, blue eyes, and a roman nose filled out the face.

As a small team of Foreign Service agents followed their leader out of the shuttle, the first Skeelzanian seemed to notice the woman for the first time. Bowing deeply with an ostentatious swinging of the arms, he spoke. “My lady, I am Montague de Serrat, Count of Balaric and humble servant of the Skeelz-Kaiser. We were sent to seek a resolution to the Neptune Situation; I assume you are to be our liaison. But please, what is your name, so that we may be fully introduced? And do not mind my companions, they are simply clerks.”

Back out in space, the two Skeelzanian warships sullenly acknowledged the Angstian's presence. Their answers rarely exceeded "affirmative" and "no". For a good while both ships hung silently in space, their hulls tar-colored with the Isotropic Coating. Eventually they started up another conversation, continuing to use the semaphore system. As they were talking in Skeelzanian Battlespeak, it was hoped the fremden would have no idea what they were saying.

Before the supposed head honcho lawyer could reply to poor DD 01/09, a ... wolf whistle ? ... floated down the corridor, followed by a,

" Well, are you coming ? "

The lawyer, sort of, well, rolled his eyes, hard, and putting an arm around DD 01/09, pulled him along. Before, you know, DD 01/09 could even try to resist the forced locomotion.

Sure, it might've been a little rude, but to each their own. They were guests, after all. And sorry to say, but the lawyer was sort of taking a shine to the " pretty floaty ". Along with most of T.U.S. he respected " Drones " as people, the sentient ones, that is ...

( The sentient Drones, not all people seem sentient, you know ... )

" Why, thank you, I'm sure the Directorates back there will like that, I'm Mr Smith, by the way. In fact, we're all Mr Smith. Or Ms Smith. All of us. No relations, though. Funny thing, that, actually ... "

He picked up his stride until the 9 or so lawyers, he didn't think they'd lost any quite yet, were in sight again, still supposed to be heading to the conferance room to give it a once over and maybe hang around for a bit ...

" Now, where ... where was I, ah, yes, of course ! I do have some more questions actually, now we've got that out of the way. Oh, by the way, we're sorry for all the show back there, it isn't that we don't trust you and the rest of Der Angst, we have to, what with all the mind-reading birds and such, it is just that we don't quite expect we should trust any-one else here the same. Not that we don't trust you to keep our security and privacy intact, just that we don't trust any-one to not try to get around you. Not that we don't trust you to stay on top of that, but, well, it is our policy to do our best to save you all the trouble, where we can ... "

It was almost like he didn't need to take a breath ...

" Now, questions, questions, yes, well. First, who can we expect to see here ? Very nice of you to have us, by the way. The Director was most pleased at how quickly you Der Angstians were on the ball and got all this rolling, too. Rolling, ball get it ? Ha, so has any-one actually moved to ... grab any of the items in orbit, yet ? That'd be quite rude of course, so I hope it doesn't happen. These pictures are lovely by the way, we really do need to find out what House you buy out of, that stylised kitten I saw on the way in was so cheerful ... Oh, and while we're here, we're most interested in learning about you ... Drones, is it ? Heard you've something like half the entire population now. It really is smashing to see sentient electronic intelligence like you out here, we've a great respect for you all back in T.U.S I can tell you ... "

Just before DD 01/09 could managed a retort ( Or escape the mans grip by then ) Mr Smith paused and said

" Oh, I think we're here - "

- as the 9 other lawyers dissapeared into a door-way ...

Back in the suite, several of the Directorates and the lawyers had been talking about how much they liked the city, or what little they'd seen so far, when they realised they'd forgotten something very important. After they'd all sat down with a coffee, or some sort of snack from " room service ", they pulled out black, slim-line, cables, one or two each, from their various suit jacket inner-pockets and plugged them into miniscule wrist or neck plugs, instantly securing their silent communications with a shielded, physical integrity, each thus linking to the person next to them, setting up a sort of circular, circuit based system. When one wanted to step into the privacy of the bath-rooms ( Hardly Top Deck district in This United State, 5 Star worthy-class, but good enough for the children of the upper crust of a Plutocrats Paradise all the same ) they'd have to d/c and do what had to be done, then return and re-link. Annoying, but they didn't want wind up ...

Disturbing the neighbours. You know, like switching off a mobile phone in a hospital. No, really ...

The Sirens of Titan diplomacy team was, as soon as they received the message from the Der Angstian drone, off to meet them on Neptune. The team, made from the best parts of humans and cybernetics available in the whole system have been made ready to get the base for free, to rent it or to buy if possible. Whichever they choose what we offer, it'll be fine. As long as Sirens of Titan has a small base in Sol, everything will be fine.

The communication uplink with Der Angst was terminated until the spaceships reach Neptune, so they have a few days to work out the plans once the crew has clearance to start building - or even better, occupying buildings Angstians have assigned for SoT use. It will be the same for all of them in the end. After a few days of travelling, traversing the starts and going past many planets and dust clouds, the diplomatic vessel and accompanied security has a clear view of the Sol System on their detection suites.

Captain J. Van Riebeeck wrote in his log:
'...I cannot believe we have returned to this forsaken place. God has clearly guided us, shown us the right path on Christmas, but this mission has the words "apocalypse" written all over it. I hope I will not be promoted as leader of this base, for it will mean my death and my crew's...'

It was one of the biggest steps that the Empress had taken, not physically but in a nation leaping way, her interest in this particular gathering was somewhat unique. She had never thought of looking off world before, and it was only due to the kindness of an ally that she was able to even send a member of her staff to participate. What had prompted her decision interest was unknown to anyone but herself, and if anything came from it, she would be pleasantly surprised. But she had always been told if nothing ventured nothing gained, and it was because of this that Ambassador Caitlin Finch and her assistant Hannah Murray sat on board a Marchant class yacht belonging to Britmattia, along with their own representative.

For both women, this had been their first attempt at space travel, and despite the slight differences, it had seemed little more than a trip on a plane. They had spent the journey usefully, taking the time to read up on everything they could relating to not only the planet and its moons, but also some of the people that would be showing up. They had the advantage of meeting Mentathiel FitzWarwick face to face, as she had been their companion.

As the ship docked safely, and Mentathiel had stood and made her way out of the vessel, the two Tartarians had gathered together their belongings and followed her, their eyes flicking around them, getting their first view and experience of somewhere other than on earth.


[ooc: with permission from Der Angst and Britmattia]

"I'm sure this is an abuse of valuable military resources."

"I'm sure it is. Seven?" the captain was perched in the back of her crash couch, actually floating a few millimeters above it due to the lack of gravity. The Unnecessary Cleavage's auto-pilot was bringing the ship and her two escorts in a wide arc that would bring them slightly closer to the Angstian station, making the light-speed limit almost insignificant. A few seconds weren't exactly important in the grand scheme of things. Gravity went on and off depending on power requirements. Rather than increase fusactor output, the drive engineers had decided to just turn off artGrav for an hour or two.

"Fish," the pilot responded, before taking his eyes off his cards to glance at control displays. The Cleavage and her escorts were quite small as far as ships went, about the same size as their wet counterparts.

"Damn. Okay, so what do we do besides test the lag?" the scanner tech poked a few more switches, almost at random, drew a card from the deck, which floated slowly through the cockpit bound by a rubber band.

"Nothing," Master Sergeant Ilmer responded. "PI handles everything else."

"I miss the old days," the tech sighed.

"No you don't. You hated having to do all the trig by hand," the pilot laughed. "Eight?"

"Bastard," the tech gave up her pair. "That's what you think. I had a real job back then."

"No, you just punched in numbers," the captain considered her hand.

"Stuff it."

"Aye, warrant officer," the CO of the Unnecessary Cleavage gave off a mock salute, the sudden motion sending her off her 'seat.'

"Very nice, skipper," the Master Sergeant was grinning from ear to ear.

>>Loading definitions...
>>Connecting...
>>Port trace complete...
>>Implementing additional instructions...
>>
>>Bounce.open[stream]{ Ping? }

Ambassador Lan stepped off the shuttle and looked around for the diplomatic drone, his weapon ring sparkling as if had just been used. He'd say one thing for the Guild, they were expert miniaturisers. And the expression on that idiot captain's face when it had been turned on him and the launch process cancelled...

Of course, that was about all he could do. He couldn't interfere with the actual operation, the Roanian government didn't have that kind of control over guild affairs. The most he could do now was what he was going to do. With that rather cheery thought, he deactivated and pocketed his ring. If the Angstians wanted to confiscate it, he could easily get another one on his salary. "Ah. A...drone." Lan spoke in a neutral voice, and bowed his head slightly. "Of course. I am Ambassador Lan of the Divine Imperium of Roania, and I represent His Most Divine Illuminated Majesty Tsar Adrik Alexei in this matter."

Behind him stepped a taller, more elegant figure, dressed in fine silks and a warm scarf. His ears reached to a slight point which became more evident as he bowed low. "I am Maradas Ilenia, Elf of Alaitoc and Guild Representative. We would like to be directed to our room now."

Ze oocness for ze Skeelz: Just Angstian(s). The 'der' is superficial and pointless.

Britmattia & Tartarus

Isabelle chuckled a bit, thinking of Drop Bear. "I can feel your pain. And, yes, that about sums it up. Well, should make for a relaxed position during the negotiations, which is a good thing. I suppose we will need it."

For the two Tartarians, the view was most likely boring, if a little odd. Port #1 was hardly different from the average naval/ airport on Earth, if one disregarded the sealed doors and hangars and the lack of an open sky (However, some windows allowed a rather nice view on Neptune's generally blue and turbulent atmosphere, as well as on a few barges trying to deal with said turbulent atmosphere, quickly flying (Or trundling) past or away, being little less than dots in the sky).

If anything, the hangar and everything else looked a little cramped, full, small. A little surprising, given that they were in a city of sixteen times sixteen times eight kilometres, but given the size of DA craft (Or DA citizens), nothing more was actually needed.

Looking over Menta's shoulder, Isabelle eventually noticed the two women. "Oh... Ah, yes, the Tartarians. Welcome." A smile formed on Isabelle's face, a slightly embarrassed one at that. "Actually, I think Poseidon forgot... Nevermind. Welcome. Ah, well... I guess I should show you your quarters, then. Oh, right. Any particular questions you might have? Oh, and I forgot..." She bowed slightly (Again). "Isabelle Koyomi, your liaison. You?"

She was obviously nervous, a little. It was less obvious just why she was nervous, though, just because she had the social skills of the average Angstian or because there was some particular problem.

Skeelzania

Rei blinked, seeing the, well, giant (Angstians tended to be comparatively small, usually below 180cm) in front of her.

Definitely a predatoresque frame. Most likely from a highly competitive society. Possibility of the male specimen using violence as their primary means to attract females, male/ male violence as primary mating ritual. Although potential homoerotic tendencies (Muscle cults) cannot be ruled out. I wonder if I can get some test results from him. Testosterone concentration or brain wave functions.

Bowing back (Slightly less excessively so than Count Serrat, but a little deeper than was common in DA), Rei wondered if she should look up at the person in front of her, but eventually she decided that it would be more dignified to talk to the Skeelzanian's chest.

"I'm Rei Osami, diplomatic corps..." She hesitated. This man was making her uncomfortable. A little, anyway. And the medals on his chest were dazzling her, she had to blink and eventually decided to keep her eyes only a slit open, protecting her eyesight from the shinyness. "Honoured to meet you."

Might have slightly magpieesque instincts. Attracted to shinies. Perhaps connection to the elvish races in the distant past? Cultural implications interesting, to say the least. Although they're certainly polite. Or, well, at least he is. Just a little bit scary. Come to think of it, I hope the magpies don't spot his medals. It would be terribly embarrassing.

"So, essentially, yes, liaison fits the job description, Mr, I mean, Count Serrat?" She was a little unsure. While nobility did of course exist in quite a few nations, some of which DA had in-depth contacts with, DA itself didn't have one, and as such, nobody was really sure just how to address a noble, and nobody really cared, as a nobility was generally seen as a thing of the past, not to mention as a mild sign of a societies' lack of social development (A point of view that had resulted in some cases of embarrassment in the past. Lavenrunzians could be so uptight...) and inventiveness.

For a second she glared at the Foreign Service agents, then she looked at Count Serrat's chest, again. "Well. Ummm. If you would follow me to your chambers? The conference hasn't started yet, so you will have ample time to get used to the station and, well, its inhabitants, if you wish to do so."

Walking through the corridors towards the (Relatively close nearby) quarters for the Skeelzanian delegation, Rei couldn't help but to wonder about her guests. They were certainly odd, a little pompous, but significantly less militant? than she had expected. She was certainly doing an interesting job. "So, ummm... Are there any specific questions you have before the conference starts? Or any particular needs?"

This United State

DD 01/09 shuddered. This is just too much. it thought, equally surprised and wondering. The next time foreigners complain about DA diplomats I'm going to send them a T.U.S. delegation.

Dragged along, its lack of friction making said dragging an annoyingly easy task (Although its ellipsoid casing lacking opportunities to actually get a hold on, disregarding the tie floating in mid-air, was something of an issue. It could easily slip away), it was all so slightly worried about the lawyer, but then...

Well, it was unlikely.

Although the idea of being abducted for its sheer shinyness was... Disconcerting. Sure, it could deal with the magpies, but...

"I, Well, I see. Ok. Mr Smith." Their desire for security is a tad excessive. And given that we could just search for it in their minds... Oh well. Leave them their toys, I guess. Everybody needs a hobby. "So, is there any particular reason for... Ah, there they are. Phew."

It was, of course, referring to the Lawyers getting in sight, again.

Of course, it wasn't quite certain if this was a good thing, but it (And its fellow drones) had had some rather profitable deals with lawyers in the recent past, so why not?

"And, ummm. Yeah. No problems there. A little bit of paranoia is certainly justified in every situation, I guess."

It wasn't quite certain if the (Still talking) 'Mr Smith' was actually listening to it, but went on, anyway.

"And, erm, yes, I'm sure your help will be appreciated. I mean, I appreciate it..."

Oily skin. I'll have to polish myself again. Bah.

"Ah, well. Hm. So far, a second please, let me check..." DD 01/09 hesitated, accessing, well, not a network per se, but simply Poseidon herself.

*Pokes*

Here. Together with notes from the liaisons.

Ah, I see, thanks.

"So far, we expect, or have already received, delegates or delegations from Britmattia, Midlonia, Tiburon, the latter two being slightly militaristic, or so it seems... But I guess it will work out, Skeelzania, I'm sure you remember them from Mars, Sirens of Titan, whoever they are, I'm quite curious myself, really... Weyr... Well, actually, not really. Weyr just wants to link or something. Somewhat impolite, but what can you do? Roania, although it seemed to be a little.. Eager, but I guess a metaphorical bucket of water or two will help... Sentient Peoples, very high profile, that, I suppose their interests will be quite revealing... And Tartarus. A little surprising, that, but why not? And don't worry. You outnumber them all together."

It chuckled. "Well, thank you. And, uh. Well, a few tried, I guess, but so far, they seem to be content with our conference-offer, so, where it was tried, aborted. I hope so, anyway.

"The pictures... Uh... Well... I could check the databanks, I guess, if you wish for me to do so. A second... Ah. A variety of pop artists. You want a list? Anyway, to explore a more interesting topic... That is, me.

"Well. Approximately half of the population are drones, yes, although it varies. There is this trend among the human population todronify oneself, just as there is a trend among the drone population to adopt human forms, including fully functional biology. Both groups are, of course, minorities, but still..."

It hesitated for a moment, floating a little closer to 'Mr Smith', lowering its voice. "I have a friend who went so far as to conceive biological children. Quite odd, that, really. But she seems to like it."

A chuckle followed. "Anyway. Well, yes, I heard that T.U.S is a somewhat technophile society... Although I don't think that you gave the drones Daedalia sort-of-constructed for you full sentience? But then, if I remember correctly, it were degraded models where it wouldn't make much sense, anyway."

It stopped. "We're... here. Yes. Well. Hrm. Why are we here?"

Sirens of Titan

Of course, lacking any kind of communication from or to Sirens of Titan, Poseidon didn't do much, or, well, anything at all. The ship still being... Well, not nearby, there was no need to do anything, either.

As such, all Poseidon (And the local diplomats) did with regards to Sirens of Titan was, essentially, an exercise in waiting.

Weyr

{ Ping? }

{ Ping! }: 348 micsecs

<Poseidon (Core)> Hrm. You need bandwidth? Ebps's possible, if required. Don't think that's necessary for a simple real time audio transfer, though...

Roania

Diplomats with weapons. How... Inappropriate. DD 01/03 sighed as it saw Ambassador Lan entering. It quickly 'straightened' its tie, a pointless gesture, of course, but it liked to do it, anyway. There had to be some reason for it to be equipped with exotic EM field emitters, no? Apart from sounding shiny and high-tech, of course...

"Welcome on Poseidon, Ambassador Lan. Yes. Yes, a drone. You aren't a carbonophile, are you?" DD 01/03 didn't sound menacing, merely hurt. Interesting title they have for their... Ruler. I wonder how short it is.

It floated a little lower as it saw the 'Overrigged' elf. "And welcome, Maradas of Alaitoc. Well, yes. Please follow me."

Travelling through the hallways was uneventful, if one disregarded the flock of lawyers they met at one point, but as the lawyers seemed to be busy with something else and simply walked past them, one could disregard them easily, although DD 0103 couldn't help it and chuckled a little, thinking of 'Poor 01/09'.

The room prepared for the two Roanians was... well, a somewhat odd mixture of simplicity and luxury, not entirely tasteful but almost certainly sufficient.

"Something else I can do for you before the conference begins?"

On board the Imperial Heronmark, the communication system had a malfunction, causing it to never be switched 'off,' meaning that everything said in the communications room was sent in the continuous beam.

"Um, sir?"
"Yes, bannerman? What is it?"
"The comm system was on, sir. They heard everything you said earlier. We're receiving a lot of complaints about it from the conference."
"Damn. Can't they take a joke at the logic of their ignorance procedures?"
"Apparently not sir. How shall we deal with this?"
"Well, we're just going to stick around and wait for the conference to finish. If they end up making a reasonable offer for all that space, we'd be fools to turn it down, so we want to leave this star system anyways. If someone decides they can just take it without payment, then we will blast them to pieces. It's a matter of honour, after all."
"Yes sir..."
"Is there something else, bannerman?"
"There is, sir. The comm won't switch off, no matter what I do."
"Where is it being sent?"
"Straight to the conference, sir."
"That should be alright for now, but we'll have problems when we go home."

As DD 01/09 and " his " particular Mr Smith neared the door-way at some speed of stride, the last of the lawyers made their way into the conferance room, and Mr Smith again burst into his animated, near monologue ...

" Good, good - good ! So, we're all here and all in one peice, I think ! Was that the Roanians back there ? Didn't say much. Still, time for that later. They didn't say much, I mean, but you were having a jolly good rattle on ... Imagine, half the population, just wonderful ... - "

He paused for just a second, then :

" - Dronify you say. Well, nothing wrong with that at all, in fact, well, "

And with a very shark like grin :

" Client confidentiality you must understand, which I couldn't dare break, but I'm sure you'll be hearing from them soon enough ... "

Then, with a sharp tug, DD 01/09 crossed the thresh-hold into the conferance room as the lawyers fanned out about the room to do some " scounting " ...

" Wouldn't know, I'm afraid, but being as sorry as I feel for those three stiff-suits out-side our rooms, I don't think I would want to be sentient if I had to do that and more, twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, twelve months a ... well, how ever long you do have them around here. Nice place in here, ... "

At this very moment, with the heavy matters of the present interior decor and how it compared to his wide experiance of such, and his next visit to his dermatologist on the mind of the Mr Smith, DD 01/09 found himself free'd just long enough to almost wind up in the arms, and more so, of one of the female lawyers, a woman with wild, firey red hair, and a bust that looked as formidable as ( And could likely challenge with some ease even, ... ) a small military vessel.

If DD 01/09 was armed in any way, one could say they just had ...

" My you are such a gorgeous little fellow aren't you, we simply MUST talk before the conferance ! Ms Smith, charmed, I'm sure ... "

Admiral Jacob Cornwall
Commanding Officer
Second Battle Fleet

You are hereby requested and required to take the following actions. 2BF is to depart S3 orbit within 36 hours for extended deployment in the outer system. Preferably, this deployment will occur at or approximately at SO7, even in OP and AV with S8.

As such, should the situation at S8 at any time look to be approaching a negative conclusion, you are to provide all support requested of you by civilian leadership in the form of IRD2 currently present in S8. This is under policy CPME. Any local Federal forces will of course be automatically subordinate to you for this operation.

Further, should IRD2’s mission be successful, be prepared to detach at least one HTG for an extended period until a more permanent presence in S8 can be established.

You will operate under RoE: Baker in S8.

Signed: FADM Anson Farragut, CO-FSPSN
Neptune

Bruce Reynolds strode down the hallway, a long nanoleather trench coat taking some of the chill from the air. While it had been cold in Britmattia, he had been on the shuttle long enough to unfreeze, so the ambient temperature of the base buried in Neptune’s atmosphere brought a slight puckering of the skin of his face and hands. The rest of his was warmed by his nanofabric clothing, a dark blue business suit with a light grey mock turtleneck under his tan coat.

The landing had been smooth, the only noticeable jolt coming when they finally were down in the docking bay. Of course, a drive field that vaporized matter in came into contact with helped keep the flights smooth, wherever the shuttles happened to be flying.

As Bruce came around the final corner, he heard the flight crew entering the corridor well behind him, as they would certainly not be spending all the time on the ship. He had made them sleep there in Britmattia, not that they had really wanted to come out and freeze, and he knew that one would stay on watch aboard ship no matter what. But he would let them wander about, as long as they caused no havoc.

He stopped dead in shock. Or it seemed that way to those who knew him well. It was merely the briefest of hesitations at the sight of the floating, necktie clothed ellipsoid robot.

The computer in his head hurriedly provided him with the information he was seeking, though, and he realized that this was a diplomatic drone, and therefore, his welcoming committee. But handshaking as normal might be a problem. He would follow his host’s lead on that. He stopped about a meter and a half away. “Bruce Reynolds, Ambassador of the Federation of Sentient Peoples.”

<Poseidon (Core)> Hrm. You need bandwidth? Ebps's possible, if required. Don't think that's necessary for a simple real time audio transfer, though...

<UCleave (Op)> Dunno, they're probably expecting a full data feed. Anyway, let's see how much you can handle on this pipe first. I'll send you a stream, you send back whatever. I'm pretty sure this compression protocol is universal...

Which was a polite way of saying 'We don't need to measure our bandwidth.' The communications tech, having lost the card game and now waiting for everyone else to finish, sent a few seconds of a high-definition holo-stream from a particularly disturbing Weyrean metal band record over the link.

Eyes finally giving up their examination, both women moved over to where Mentathiel FitzWarwick stood, Caitlin slightly in front. She gave the Angstian a pleasant smile, and mirrored her bow in greeting. “I am Ambassador Caitlin Finch, and this is my assistant, Hannah Murray.” She indicated the woman behind her, who also inclined her head slightly in greeting, her smile almost matching that of the Ambassador. “It is a pleasure to be here.”

It was not hard to realise that something was wrong with Isabelle, and Caitlin could not get over the strange feeling that they had arrived somewhere unexpected. But they were there now and whatever was troubling their liaison would either disappear or reveal itself in good time.

“We have no questions.” She said, in fact her mind was still reeling from her first ever space flight to really be able to focus, and she knew that she would have plenty of time to ask any questions should they arise, which she was sure would be the case.

“I assure you, the honor is all mine.” Flicking his hand forward, Serrat and the ‘clerks’, joined by the shuttle pilot and his kit bag, as well as several porters carrying trunks, followed Res Omani to their chambers. Noting a slight hesitance in her speech, he guessed what it was. “Please, call me Serrat. Although there are those among us who would disapprove, we certainly can’t expect our gracious hosts to know all the proper ways to address Alders. In any case, my title is non-hereditary and of little consequence, other than adding a few more letters to my name. These birds are quite curious, are they simply for ornamentation?”

The Skeelzanians had, of course, noticed the birds flirting about or simply staring at them. A few of the agents were getting uncomfortable, and more than one had to resist the urge to lash out and snap one of the annoying creature’s neck. Their discomfort would no doubt be significantly increased if they had any inkling of the bird’s psychic abilities; thankfully, a genetic mutation that nullified psychic manipulation of the Skeelzanian body (while simultaneously ensuring there would never be Skeelzanian psychics) kept them blissfully unaware.

Eventually they reached the rooms, with Serrat ducking in first. “Oh,” he murmured, “this will be bothersome.” He would probably wind up sleeping on the floor, unless he wanted his legs sticking out over the ends of the bed. Ah well, trials and tribulations in the name of God. Stepping back into the corridor so as to allow his assistant’s access, his gaze swung back onto the Angstian women. “The furniture is rather small and awkward, but that was somewhat expected. I’m sure my men would appreciate it if you could inform me of meal times, though I would settle for knowing when the conference might start.”

Inside the apartments, the Skeelzanians were settling in. One of the clerks, chasing several magpipes out of his room with a shirt, grumbled bitterly in Skeelzanian. “Fine hosts these are. No pilot for landing, misshapen furniture, and the damn rooms are filled with these birds. Just my luck to land a gig in Sol.”

“Yeah, but you have to admit,” remarked another agent, “that is one fine piece of ass they sent to greet us. Of course, I’m sure you didn’t notice, being into boys.” At this point Serrat reentered the room, ending the conversation and the imminent brawl.*

*assume he would simply enter the room after getting his questions answered.

OOC: Yeah, it's not the greatest of posts. Then again, the actual thing hasn't started yet, so this is all side randomness.

Having unpacked with the help of Irene and (fortunately? unfortunately?) having missed noticing the movies in question at her room, Ainterya laid back in her bed and stared up idly at the ceiling for several minutes, not wanting to go to the conference just yet. It was going to begin soon, though... *sigh*

Taking her SDPC (standard diplomatic personal computer) with her, the two went towards the conference room, making the standard smalltalk that courtesy dictated. As they walked into the room, she noticed a sizeable crowd from the TUS side, which rather took her unawares- they needed this many people to represent their interests? ...Regardless, Ainterya booted up her computer, took the seat behind the placard marked "TIBURON" with a small Tiburonese flag, and motioned Irene to sit next to her, as courtesy dictated. Ainterya waited and watched idly as the rest of the delegations began entering the conference room.

The two diplomats looked at each other, Lan and Maradas's eyes meeting. As one they both shook their heads. "No, thank you. Just let us know when the convention starts." Lan said, finally. He slumped into a chair, noting with disapproval the spartan surroundings.

Maradas sat as far away from Lan as he could, the two of them not speaking a word for what felt like hours. "What does the Chancellery really want, Lan?" He asked, finally.

"Maradas, you know as well as I. I think all the Tsar wants is to get you Guilders out of his land, really." Lan rubbed his high forehead and sighed. "And good riddance."

This United State

DD 01/09 sighed, slowly stopping to actually listen to (Or at the very least, interpreting) what this 'Mr Smith' had to say.

"Uh, yes, whatever you say... Err... So, no, continue, I... Hello? Are you actually listen- Apparently not. But yes. Errr... I see. Say, is there a point in hinting when it is confidential? I mean, the hints are a little... Explicit, so you just gave a secret awa- Whatever.

"Well, to be fair, it is fairly easy to pass the time when being on duty, I heard. That's what comm implants are for, really... So it isn't really that bad. Just the work itself, but so long as you can distract yourself... But then, I don't know what TUS' stance on discipline is. You might have guessed that DA's stance is a rather, well... I think our 'soldiers' are insulted when someone suggests discipline. Anyway, I think, I, ah, why exactly... HUH?"

DD 01/09 blinked, being kind of... Trapped in an oversized bust.

"I... Interesting anatomy, Ma'am... DD 01/09... I'm sure you... May I move a little? Thanks. Yes, very. Talk about what, exactly?"

Sentient Peoples

DD 01/04 'bowed' (That is, it bobbed its front compartment a little). "DD 01/04, Diplomatic Corps and your liaison. Honoured to meet you. I hope you had a nice flight? Oh, and here, please..."

It turned, slowly floating ahead (Or next to Bruce Reynolds, depending entirely on Bruce's ability to trust the drone not to explode, or poison him, or stab him, or something), informing the ambassador about the progress, namely, who had already arrived, who was still being expected, Moontian... Annoyance Factors (Not that the Moontian military was seen as something even remotely approaching substandard, yet alone quality) and the likes.

Arriving at the ambassador's designated quarters (Not particularly luxurious, but fitting their purpose, with access to all the libraries and data sources one could possibly need), it turned again. "So... Any particular questions, interests I and the council should know about, the likes, or is it... Satisfactory, so far?"

For the crew of the Sentient Peoples shuttle, things were a little simpler. The station was pretty much open, and while security measures existed, they weren't particularly invasive (Or even noticeable), so the city was essentially 'Open to all'. Granted, The hangar/ port wasn't particularly interesting, but the city itself had its interesting parts... After all, DA was all about decadence (Well, not only about decadence, but it played a significant part in its day to day life, anyway). Granted, Poseidon less so, given its status as a scientific commune, but still.

Weyr

<Poseidon (Core)> Hrm. 'k. Lesse...

The female-in-her-sixties blinked, upon receiving and interpreting (Read: watching, in a sense) the record.

<Poseidon (Core)> You have more of that?

The message came a few microseconds before her own datastream followed, a 'scientific' approach on the mating rituals and techniques common in Hell Bovines. Only a few seconds, of course, but they were seconds with 'action'.

Gehenna Tartarus & Britmattia

Isabelle lived up, a little, her nervousness fading, slowly. Fairly pleasant people. "Pleased to meet you. Now..." She hesitated for a second, sending a (Slightly) annoyed message to Poseidon.

You know, you could have given me some help. I thought it was one liaison/ delegation. A little rude to run the ones from Britmattia & Tartarus with me only.

What can I say? One ship, one liaison. I thought, anyway. Look, it wont happen again, ok? Besides, it's hardly as if you're having tons of works, just think of poor DD 01/09.

Ok, ok. Just... nevermind.

"Well, no questions... Good, then. If you would like to follow me?"

The walk through the hallways was the usual one, with Isabelle giving something approaching a sightseeing tour (Without the objects of 'interest' actually being visible), pointing out the general direction of the various 'political' institutions (High Council, Subcouncils, Various Megacorps, a few semi-religious groups, the military), the science sectors (Poseidon was the center for DA's spacecraft propulsion research (Not for their production, though)), the less official and more entertaining parts of the city (It would have been superficial to detail those out. Sufficient to say, in a society that had drugs almost entirely legal, where changes to ones' biochemistry and/ or software architecture to achive more 'pleasure' were common and where sexual taboos were essentially non-existant, the entertainment possibilities were somewhat more varied than just 'Cinema', 'Show', 'Casino', 'Theatre' or 'Brothel'. Not that Isabelle would have dared mentioning the latter to foreign dignitaries, anyway), the likes.

"- -Although the Chez Joey's is hardly appropriate for the more dignified kind of people so I guess it is, well..." She blushed prettily. Oi. Talked a bit too much. "Anyway, ah... Here we are." The rooms for the three delegates had a vaguely 'Imperial' style (In the case of Mentathiel with a slightly rough undertone), although it was perhaps not entirely fitting (Neither room was particularly spacious). "Well, so far... I think that's all... Is there anything more I can do for you, right now? Oh, and it seems that the conference will start soon... For some reason... Well, the conference room is that way, about a hundred metres from here." She pointed to her right, along a second hallway.

Incidentally, Isabelle was quite curious as of Tartarus' reasons to attend, but thought it to be a little impolite to just ask in the form of a blunt 'Why?'. Well, she would surely learn more, in time.

Skeelzania

"Oh, why, thank you." Rei smiled a little, prettily, but shy. "Well, that certainly makes it easier."

Surprisingly non-authoritarian. He's either a very good diplomat, or the data we have about their civilisation is somewhat biased. Their society might also be a little more meritocratic than feudalistic societies usually are. They seem to be almost civilised.

"Oh, the birds... They just are... Well, almost everywhere, disregarding countermeasures like closing the windows. Or, well, in Poseidon's case, the doors. Semi domesticated, so we happen to like them.. Oh, I would be careful with them, though, they might... Well, I'll organise some basic brainwave encryption for you. Actually, there should be some in your chambers. Standard issue." *

Arriving at the room, Rei nodded, blushing all so slightly. "Well, yes, we didn't exactly expect gian- I mean Delegates of such impressive size... We are, admittedly, somewhat used to larger sizes, but three metre tall fully augmented cyborgs aren't particularly widespread in DA, and we're certainly not having them as our average foreign dignitary. As for the meals, well..." She glanced through the door, pointing at a terminal. "English translation is available, and the meals, well... You order whatever you want, whenever you want, and half an hour later, it's here. Of course, restaurants in the city are available, too. A somewhat more appropriate ambiente, I guess."

She sighed a little, then shrugged. "As for the confernece... Frankly, not sure, it depends on when everything, or rather, everyone is ready, I guess. We would of course inform you immediately."

She hesitated, checking back. "Hrm. Actually, it seems the delegates are faster than we are. I guess you can come anytime. The conference room is..." She pointed to her left, along the hallway. "That way, then right."

After Serrat had entered the room, Rei sighed with relief. They are a little odd. I can hardly resist sending a gnat or so in, for surveillance... But Poseidon would kill me. Bah.

Tiburon

DD 01709 looked at the Tiburonese delegate, quickly looking up the name and rank, and praying that it would distract a few of the lawyers.

I wonder if his computer can selfdestruct. It could take a few of them with it...

Irene nodded politely, and, with a quick bow to the TUS delegation, I really hope we're keeping them on holovid. this is just too... Good. sat down.

"Well, shouldn't be too long, then."

Roania

"Well, good then." DD 01/03 nodded. "Well, some delegates are already entering the conference room, but I guess it will take a while until it actually starts... Still, it might be a good idea to visit it."

With that, it left the two alone, idly wondering if Poseidon should possibly change its 'Keep their privacy' policy towards a slightly more security-approving point of view, at least listening in the rooms of the Roanian and Skeelzanian delegations.

Alas, doing so would probably be too much.

More oocness! * Given that DA psiwank is essentially long-range (And excessively detailed) electroencephalography, Skeelzanian psychic nullification stuff is kinda unlikely to work perfectly (Except of course that Skeelzanians are plant/ mushroom like. Not having a nervous system that transmits electric impulses makes my teeps somewhat pointless. I.e. Warhammer 40K Orcs (To take one example) would indeed be immune to my 'telepathy', given that they're mushrooms. Or they (The Skeelzanians) generally fuck with electromagnetics, but I imagine that the effects on things like, say, mobile phones or computers would be more dire than the positive results. Oh, and they could eventually destabilise the city, given that it floats on $Electromagneticwank.

Of course, basic tinkering with brain wave functions and electric impulses by way of fucking with the DNA would certainly make it significantly harder for my 'psi'wank, assuming that it is essentially 'encrypting' the impulse. But seeing as even simple magnetic fields and electric currents effect my psiwank, it would be a somewhat overcomplex way to achive the result, given things like jamming and so on existing. In any case. 'Psychic energies', 'Psychic fields', 'Psychic Dimensions' and the likes one usually sees in NS (And elsewhere) play pretty much no role whatsoever. Well, absolutely no role whatsoever). Hence, why all delegations are generally issued a little PDA-sized thing with a little interface (Think a little band to run around your head) to encrypt brain waves, for a while.

And yes, it's BStechwank, but I like it.

<UCleave (Op)> Okay...yeah. Interesting. Okay. I'm sending the stuff with the diplo-stream.

The communications tech put the returning feed on screen. It was going to be processed on the Unnecessary Cleavage for transmission along the subEtha, with the help of her two destroyer escorts if her alogic arrays couldn't handle the load, so everyone in the control center could as well see what they were bouncing.

"Whoa," was the more or less collective response of those who caught a glimpse of the test feed from the Angstians.

"Want me to ask for more?"

"That's like....watching a troll stripper."

"Where've you seen a troll strip?"

"I didn't know you swung that way, skipper."

"Aaaanyway," the communications tech added the diplomatic line to the constant transmission. For the moment it was a person -- actually a not-unattractive woman in very early twenties moving paper and drinking something out of a very big mug. For a few moments she was dressed in a fluffy bathrobe that in some societies might have shown too much skin, but then she reached beyond the edge of the feed, and in a flicker switched into a more or less conservative business suit.

Caitlin listened intently as Isabelle pointed out the various areas as they made their way to their rooms. Not being an overly good tourist and not really seeing anything of too much interest, she barely spoke as they walked along, other than making the odd noise that indicated she was still listening, even if she was being overly quiet.

Reaching her room, Caitlin disappeared inside, having answered in the negative that she had no questions for Isabelle. She looked about her, not sure what she had been expecting, but knowing it was not what she had been given. The rooms were…well rooms, and other than having the usually items, there was nothing overly to write home about. In fact, she was so caught up in why she was there, she really had little thought for anything else.

Some time later, she was attracted to the door. Opening it, she was greeted by the smiling face of her assistant, Hannah. “Are you ready to go, Ambassador? The conference is set to begin shortly.”

Nodding her head, she gathered her things together, and both women were soon heading off in the direction indicated earlier by Isabelle. This time Caitlin allowed herself to take in more of the details around her, more so that she did not lose her way about the place.

They finally came upon the room, and with a quick glance inside, they entered and looked about them, as they waited for the others who were going to attend. Hannah walked over to a chair and sat herself down as she ran over some last minute details. Caitlin milled around, more interested in who was attending than getting ready for proceedings to start.

At the drone’s introduction, Bruce returned its bow, stiffly from the hips, and then moved along side it in the hallways. Once he realized what it was, he had no problem trusting a near or completely sentient electronic intelligence, he was not sure which, but he was fairly sure it was one or the other.

As the Moontians were mentioned, Bruce scowled slightly, and then hid a grin as a transmission bringing him up to date on certain movement orders was forwarded to his secure communications implant with light (n+1) encryption. This was a message it would not matter if the Angstians knew as well, after all.

Second Battle Fleet could intervene at Neptune in less than four hours time if things began to go poorly, and the Ninth Patrol Fleet Task Group was hovering in a very high orbit of the eighth planet. Both would respond however Bruce set their policy.

The other information the drone presented him with was interesting, and he filed it away inside his skull, wrapped in the computers which stored so much information. The nice thing about those computers was that in addition to being encrypted something fierce, they had been in Bruce’s skull so long they had adapted to him, and took his nearly active concentration to access. That did not count the implant that would alert him to interlopers. Just from being here, he could already feel the implant at its minimal level, pumping out drugs that counter-acted the manipulation of brain waves patterns, and made his thoughts more difficult to read by absorbing the EM radiation from his skull.

He turned to the drone once they were in his quarters. “These seem as much as I’m used to on trips like this. Most satisfactory, thank you. And unless you want to hear everything we’re interested in right now instead of waiting until the council, I’d prefer just a bit of wandering around to stretch. It’s quite the long flight here, and that shuttle’s small.”

As for the two crew of the shuttle, the young petty officers (their commander took first watch), they ‘hit dirt’ in the dress uniforms diplomatic shuttle crews were always required to have. Knowing Angstian law, they did carry sidearms as well, which regulations required to them to carry whenever diplomatically possible. The lightweight flechette weapons would chop people up easily enough, probably would not damage drones, and more importantly, would not punch through Poseidon’s skin, unlike the pulse pistols they normally wore. They were merely in search of entertainment, though they made sure to travel together as they lost themselves in the crowds.

The Ms Smith, she of a big, full head of frizzy ( and dare I say, near primal and lusty ) red hair, a tank-busting class of, well, bust ... and with a voice that could switch from Matron of the Ward to over-excited school-girl, while simultaneously pulling off the noise that finger-nails make when they scrape down a black-board, replied,

" Why ! You pleasently silly thing, talk about the ... hold on dear, you've a mark on your shiny - "

- So before, again, poor DD 01/09 could get so much as a chance to splutter his indignation or avoid what was to come, she'd carefully spat onto a near magically presented silk hand-kerchief from one of her suit-jacket pockets, and industriously removed the oily residue from the last encounter DD 01/09 had had with the Mr Smith, within the space of about 2 seconds or so, -

( She was a lawyer ... after-all, and liked to think she was yes, both expensive, but, efficient )

" - All better ! My, you are a cute one, say, do you - "

But, no sooner had she gotten this far when the same Mr Smith of before had simply popped up beside them and ( Mercifully for DD 01/09 one could later think ... ) with a clear nod of authority to Ms Smith, drawn DD 01/09 away by his convieniently hanging tie,

" Say, old boy, we're going to need more chairs, I think, for the delegation, we've got nine here, yes, but we'll need a good, well, nine ... another eight ... say seventeen total, more allocated to us, do you think you could whip those up for us in the next few minutes ? Wouldn't want any of the ladies left standing, now would we ? - "

One could fairly expect that were any of the ladies to be left standing, by virtue of the mysterious pecking-order one can see in some groups of women now and then, it'd be that Ms Smith whom DD 01/09 had just encountered who'd be the closest to DD 01/09 for the duration of the conferance session ...

Then, while directly appraising the relative size of DD 01/09 to both Ms Smith, and some certain kinds of live-stock of days past, and with a near mock conspiratorial whisper, though being quite serious, and leaning in close to DD 01/09, as one would lean in close to another persons ear of choice to do so, even if one had to sort of guess as to where and what DD 01/09's ears were, he said :

" Say, young Hilda there, she didn't happen to mention her love of saddles ... did she ? "

...

While this had been going on, the other 8 T.U.S. lawers in the room began to sit down and settle in, to get the feel of the place, gave the odd nod of polite greeting to the Tiburonese, and were soon to be joined by Hilda herself, a bit sad her little new friend was being distracted by the business of the day, she supposed. Mean-while about 17 ( 9 being from the Directorates, 8 or so being the other lawyers in the delegation ) other members of the delegation from T.U.S. began to " dis-connect ", gather up their tools of the trade and make their way down the halls at speed to the conferance chamber. There was going to be a total of 27 T.U.S. delegates in there, and they wanted to be in position before most, if any, of the other guests had arrived to the chamber. Aside from the Tiburonese, of course, whom it was nice to meet, if only to nod to. As they saw it, they'd gotten there first, so they may as well avoid making any-one else wait for them.

This left the 3 figures of the Defense Directorate men on duty together back at the rooms, glaring straight at, well, at ... ( nothing ? ) ... for the time being, I suppose.

* shrug *

Neptune

"YES!" Marius Takashi jumped from his seat, almost throwing it to the ground, leaving SMD 11/51 kinda, well, mystified.

"Yes... What? Mind sharing?"

"Just got the note. Moontian accepts the payment, so we got rid of them."

"It was hardly necessary, all things considered, though."

"Pft. Cheaper than a missile salvo."

"Oh? Well, good then. I guess SCD 1/1 is happy as well, yes?"

"Of course." Takashi was almost beaming with pleasure, happyness being all over him. "Now that this is out of the way, we can continue without any more of those annoying interruptions."

"Well, our guests might-"

"... It's pocket money."

"It is...? Ah, yes, a billion standard units. It is, indeed."

"And now... It seems that our guests are particularly eager of starting. I guess I should get down there."

Weyr

Poseidon quickly directed the more personal transmission to one of her (Many) databanks, and concentrated on the matter at hand.

<Poseidon (Core)> Hrm. You're cute, you know?

At the same time, she organised the necessary datafeeds, connections and the likes, and soon enough, the hologram of the Weyrean woman appeared on her 'place' in the conference room, almost indistinguishable from a 'real' person, if one diregarded its lack of a hard, 'touchable' presence (Of course, Poseidon could actually have taken care of this particular issue, albeit in a rather crude way, but then, there was no need to do so).

Of course, the data that arrived on the Unnecessary Cleavage was a little less perfect. Being a little annoyed with the Weyreans using this kind of appearance, Poseidon made sure that the holovid stream she sent back was a little less perfect when it came to things like facial expressions, infinitesimal movements, sweat glancing on a delegate's face or the likes. All of those things were essentially unnoticeable to the Weyreans.

The woman-in-her-sixties smiled inwardly. I've always said that a physical presence has its advantages. Like, not being dependent on me.

Gehenna Tartarus

The hallway was, well, a hallway, and rather uninteresting, disregarding a kitten strolling around, mewing at the Tartarians and following them, for a little while.

The conference room itself was a little less... Uninteresting, though. In fact, more chaotic than uninteresting, given the presence of the TUS delegation (Well, a part of it) as well as the others. Of course, making sense of it could prove to be mildly difficult, but hopefully this would change, once the conference actually started.

For now, a drone-attendant (Pointless, but well paid) approached Hannah. Not a particularly polite one, as all it did was fiddling a little with circuits in the table and placing two glasses of a dry (But supposedly tasty) alcoholic beverage on the table in front of her, uttering an apologetic "Things proceed surprisingly quickly. May I... Ah, thank you. Oh, and yes, the drinks are for you." as it fiddled with aforementioned circuits. "So... Ah, good, now it works again."

Sentient Peoples

"Perfect, then." DD 01/04 nodded. "Well, just wanting to streamline proceedings, if possible. But sure. Understandably, I guess. Although I, personally, well, stretching isn't much of a problem for me... Nevermind. Good day for now, then. The conference room is that way-" It nodded into the direction in question. "And, well, it looks like it will start soon. But Poseidon will surely contact you wherever you are, early enough so you wont be late, no matter what."

With that, the drone turned, leaving to have a little bit of time for itself.

The crew of the shuttle, quickly directed the right way by the surprisingly effective guidance system present, well, almost everywhere, soon found itself a few levels lower, in the midth of a (Small, perhaps twenty- or fortythousand sentient/ sapient entities) crowd concentrated within perhaps three levels of exceedingly surreal architecture.

While the diplomatic areas were of a relatively normal, perhaps a bit small, clean and, well, symmetric design, down here, chaos reigned. Pink, blue, yellow, red, green, black, white, orange, violet and other colours everywhere, ludicrous and hilarious mixtures and patterns all over the place, ellipsoid, spikey, potatoesque, flat, high and utterly deformed forms, merging into walls and ceilings, their roofs usually serving as the bottom of the higher levels.

Transparent walls allowing everyone to see what happened inside the buildings or outside the city (Where turbulences in the air created dream-or-nightmarishesque images as Neptune's blue skies were enriched with a number of different colours, all of them being equally odd and fitting (Or unfitting, depending on ones' mood and preferences, not to mention the direction one looked at).

Around them was a chaos of drones of varying forms, humans, some of them with minimal, others with excessive 'augments' (It was object to discuss if this augments were actually useful, though), small vehicles, holographic designs (Some of them with physical manifestations, courtesy of EEMFs Poseidon created in the right time and place), paintings, coloured walls and ceilings, the likes.

Inside the many buildings, the activities did at least seem to be comparatively boring. Some were essentially gaming halls, occasionally providing medical services to those who lost their consciousnes inside a game, forgetting that it was a game (Usually, such was wished for, though, so they merely cared for the bodies' continued functioning, rather than waking it up).

Others were the equivalent of (Expensive, and eqipped with a truly fantastic ambiente hinting at upper-class lounges with a slightly irreal look) opium bars, with a significantly greater variety of products available, be they chemical, biological, programs or thoughts.

Again other buildings housed 'Shows', brothels, restaurants, tournamentesque sports (Of those, there were only a few, though, as they tended to be kept on Triton, where microgravity allowed for additional twists), even art galleries and the likes, but also shops, be they for clothes, music, implants, transcorporation from a human into a drone (Or the other way around), tissue, robotics, minor medical services, genetic alteration, mechanics/ optronics maintenance, religion, minor furniture, computers, souveniers, whatever. And from any and all of this places, different kinds of smells, scents, sounds, music, colours and forms came, mixing with each other.

Of the people in the crowd around the two officers, only few were carrying weapons. Sure, it was legal, but nobody saw the point of doing it. Otherwise, variety reigned the day. Drones, floating or walking, with two, four, six or eight legs, or alternatively, wheels or tracks, (Even the occasional, odd triped could be seen, working his, her, or its way through the crowd) walked or drove past, occasionally carrying drinks or what looked like a really tiny CD player, most likely with a good number of pleasure algorithms on its optic harddisk (Of course, music was equally possible) in their arms, whose number varied about as much as their number of legs. Humans, some of them essentially normal, usually a little smaller than the FSP officers, busy talking or consuming food or occasionally trying to hit on a sufficiently attractive member of the opposite (Or, occasionally, same) gender. Some were even doing the occasional business deal or simply buying whatever they desired, be it a new suit or getting rid of an annoyingly large tumor. Others were somewhat odder, featuring rather unfashionable but impressive implants in bodies that occasionally exceeded three metres in size and were almost as varied as those of the drones around, and finally the occasional neko or drow (The latter being an exception, as they generally kept to themselves, not to mention that they tended to stay on earth), looking almost lost in the chaos, yet finding their way to their respective coiffeurs or glared-at religious cults nobody but the drow claimed to understand.

A few of the people in the crowd looked a little more closely at the FSP officers, but for now, nobody choose to care enough to actually start talking, if one disregarded the constant bombardement of advertisments, invitations to join this brothel or that mall, buy this shirt or that mechatronic arm...

But then, the advertisements were usually done by subsentient entities, so they could hardly count as 'conversation'.

TUS

She's scary. I want to get out. NOW! DD 01/09 shuddered, trying to get away from this woman, a woman whose bust it suspected of being able to crack its casing like an eggshell.

It was already to late to prevent her from.. Dirtying... DD 01/09's shell. This is... SEXUAL HARASSMENT!

A few internal circuits suddenly teemed with life, and it was just about to run a sufficiently high current and voltage through its casing to knock Ms Smith out upon skin contact when Mr Smith dragged it away, mercifully so, although the tie almost slipped from DD 01/09's casing.

"Uh... Yes. Chairs. Hrm. Actually, I think... Chairs.. Delegation... You saw the size of the other delegations? And, anyway, I think... SADDLES?"

DD 01/09 blinked, and for a few moments, said absolutely nothing, instead thinking of its shell, and the horrible image of it being cracked like the aforementioned eggshell, its very expensive optronic circuits, EEMF emitters and sensors being ripped out of it...

"Ahem. Anyway. No. I think, well, you see, no other delegation has more than three delegates. I would think that even nine chairs are a little much, although I'm willing to let it slide if this particular Ms Smith will stay in your quarters, rather than inside this room. Comprende?"

And while a stampede of lawyers was making its way through the hallways, a small fGCD lacking any kind of its usual armament (If one disregarded its more ceremonial equipment, anyway) came along the TUS quarters, glaring at the Defence Directorate employees.

"Hrm. Also in the defence business, huh?"

Hannah looked at the drone, unable to hide the look of puzzlement and surprise that it had instilled in her. She opened her mouth to speak, but stopped when she realised she was not at all sure what it was actually doing, or whether it was even expecting a response. At the mention of the drinks, she gave it a strained smile. “Uh…thank you. Thank you very much.” She looked at it for a few moments and then picked up one of the glasses and took a sip, finding the contents most pleasing to the palate.

Caitlin, who had been standing nearby, watching the rest of the delegates enter, moved over to the table and picked up one of the drinks; having seen the drone serve it. She gave it a cursory glance, before tentatively bringing it up to her lips, making the same discover that Hannah had only moments before. “It seems there are a few people here.” She said conversationally. “This could be an interesting event.”

Nodding her head, Hannah agreed, but she felt somewhat out of her depth this far from home. “Let’s hope that this is as interesting as it gets. You hear so many stories about what happens out here.”

“Out here?” Caitlin suddenly smiled, realising what Hannah meant. “This is a peaceful conference, there is no reason for you to be alarmed.” She looked at the seat beside her companion, but remained standing. “I don’t know what is going to come out of this, but at least we can tell our grandchildren about it.”

Hannah laughed. “That is indeed true.”

OOC: Skeelzanian psychic nullification was originally developed to fight off the horde of Jedi nations that cropped up a few months ago, as it specifically blocks just about every Force-driven action against Skeelzanian bodies. Their physiology is also a bit different from your normal human, so I would assume an Angstian wouldn’t be able to read them as well, though you’d still get a general idea of their current mindset. Basically its just some of my own psiwank designed to force other psiwankers (Jedi) to fight the war I like, i.e. World War One redux.

The Skeelzanians spent a few days settling into their apartments before the actual conference began. With nearly a dozen large men sharing relatively cramped quarters, a number of them wound up sleeping on the floor or sprawled diagonally across their beds. The pilot, for his part, chose to return to the shuttle, where he spent much of his free time guarding his craft from fremden meddlers. For the most part the delegation stayed in their rooms, ordering meals through the terminal and rarely requesting anything.

Eventually Serrat made his appearance, wearing the same uniform he had arrived in. Accompanied by two Foreign Service minders, he swept into the conference room past the other delegates, apparently ignoring them. Settling himself into his chair, he noticed the Skeelzanian flag was of the old style: red Nordic cross on black, with the iron fist at the cross joint. I’ll have to dig up one of the newer ones he thought.

Following the require landing procedures the pilot of the small Iraqstani Mining Corporation, a corporation run and goverened by the state until recently had been stuck on earth itself looked over his shoulder at the Major Shareholder's Representative, the shareholder being the Iraqstani Reich. A government official granted the power to negotiate and accept agreements on behalf of the Iraqstani Interstellar Mining Corporation and the Iraqstani National Socialist Union.

With a gentle thump, the fairly rough looking shuttle sets down, it's occupants heading towards the rear of the ship the hatch irising open and the boarding ramp sliding down with only minimal complaint. Stepping off the ramp Baron Aden Kleinburg greets the reception party and allows them to lead the Iraqstani group to their rooms.

Taking note of the extreme lateness of their arrival Aden changes form his flight suite into an official Iraqstani uniform, Black with Red stripes and the Iron cross on either shoulder, checking to ensure his briefcase contains the required items he rushes to the conferance.


Walking with a quick pace into the conference room he looks about him at the gathered delegates and grimaces slightly at the number of people More of a turnout than I expected. Oh well IIMC needs this for future operations.. He thinks to himself as he nods in greeting to delegates who glance his way as he tries his best to integrate silently into the gathering crowd of people.


OOC: above post done with permission from Der Angst. W00t

With the agreement made with Der Angst, the Moontian Empire began its final stage of withdrawal, by bringing in the satellite platforms in high orbit above Neptune. Once this step was finished, a final message was sent to the conference using the faulty communications system aboard the Imperial Heronmark.

Thanks for the offers, Der Angst and Allanea. We hope you enjoy your new territory in the Solar System. Farewell.

The comm channel was finally able to be switched off, and the ships of the Moontian Empire left the system. In a few weeks, they would arrive at their new home to settle back into a peaceful life.

Maradas and Lan rose to an unknown signal, and both started to idle their way towards the conference room. The elf strode powerfully before the human, his eyes darting around and pricing everything they could see.

Behind him, Lan almost slouched, his distaste for being off Terra only matched by his dislike of the elf walking with him. The two of them both moved into the conference room without a word being spoken between them, or to any others.

Mr Smith, for once paused and seemed to give the matter some real thought,

" Well, I suppose we could just manage with the nine seats ... we could have the nine Directorate members sit, and nine of the lawyers could always stand behind them ... "

He looked at DD 01/09, then Ms Smith, then DD 01/09, then Ms Smith, and back again to DD 01/09. With a near ... smug ! ... tone, he said :

" Yes, I suppose that would be wise. Wouldn't what you to get ... distracted ... you cad you ... "

He gave DD 01/09 a leer and a wink before he went to sort the lawyers out, ( literally ) both those sitting, and those in the same party as the Directorates, who'd just come into the room from their short travel from their suite/s.

In a series of a few very active seconds, the nine representatives from three of the four This United State Directorates, thus three each for the Commerce, Education and Justice Directorates in this case, were seated, while nine or so Lawyers were lined up behind them, one behind each Directorate Rep, each one holding a legal pad, an active personal ... electronic ... well, thing ... or some other device or material item they may need during the conferance and looking spick and span, and, well, very well qualified while they did it. All eighteen of them had also re-connected via their slim, black, shielded and thus secure data cables, forming a slightly gothic looking human circuit.

( Mind you, with the dark, elite of the elite fashion-house designed, conservative cut suits, the stream-lined titanium alloy jewelery, and the ... gray skin, it wasn't as if they'd have to try hard to look so, on reflection )

The rest of the lawyers, mostly women, were thus to be saved from the near-indignity ( By T.U.S. standards, at least ) of being made to stand at a formal event, and made there way back to the suites they'd been given, to decide the chances of a T.U.S. business expense funded " commercial research cycle " in Poseidon proper ...

Though, this was not before on her way out, " Hilda " had looked up with bright eyes and gave a hyper, little-kid sort of wave to DD 01/09 and mouthed the words -

" I'll be in my room ... if you need me "

- from across the room, before she left.

The Mr Smith whom DD 01/09 had dealt with by then had gone too, and the T.U.S. delegation was ready ...

- Back at the suites, the 3 Defense Directorate " representatives ", now waiting for the lawyers to return, eyed the drone (?) and after a second or so of consultation with each other, via more directly focused communiction, an operation which took place on a level of encryption several orders of magnitude above than the civilian variant the lawyers had been using, they all three replied at once in the same monotone,

" Yes. Why do you ask ? ", and with the same blank stare ...

Gehenna Tartarus

The drone didn't really realise just how puzzled Hannah was, mainly because it was busy fiddling with circuits rather than looking at Hannah. "No problem. Anyway... Fixed. Bye. Oh, and I hope the drink's are... Sufficiently perfect."

Said it, and vanished in the crowd.

It was quickly replaced by Isabelle, though, who eventually showed up, giving a quick nod, smiling. "A little busy, I see..." She chuckled a little. "I just hope our guests from This United State wont try to get all of the planet by using their numerical superiority to their advantage. I would hate being overrun by Genghis- Chanesque hordes of lawyers."

Skeelzania *

The Skeelzanians certainly had short days, given that the speed with which the TUS & Tiburonese delegations had acted meant that the conference was about to start shortly after the Skeelzanians had arrived on the station (And indeed, Rei had told them so). Of course, the surprising shortness of the Skeelzanian 'day' (A few minutes) was noticed, and Poseidon thought about switching the lights in their quarters on and off in a rythm appropriate for her guests from the gamma quadrant, but eventually decided against it. After all, it would have been rude to suggest that a Skeelzanian probably wasn't even able to switch the lights on or off.

Still, doing so every few minutes sure was some work. **

In the conference room, Rei was already waiting, politely, and smiling, eventually whispering to Serrat. "Welcome... Yes, it's a little crowded here..." She glared at the TUS delegation. "Some people just don't have... Manners. Well, it should start soon, now... I just hope it wont end up being a shouting match."

Iraqstan

Marius Takashi had been unable to resist the temptation and given the 'Racially Pure' (At least that was what the Iraqstani claimed they were) a neko as liaison. Said neko, Karin Ryuji, with striped brown fur, had accepted more than willingly. She liked irony, and that she was possibly the wrong person to make a sufficiently 'Pure' impression didn't really matter to her.

Well, it did, but not in the way one would usually expect from a diplomat's point of view.

For now, everyone was (Still) waiting for the last delegates to arrive in the conference room (Not to mention that the host had to show up, too), so things were comparatively unimportant. And with Baron Kleinburg being as silent as he was, chatter was unlikely, to say the least.

Well, at least alcoholic beverages were available, so he would surely manage to pass the remaining time with some 'meditation', if such was necessary.

Roania

Again, a silent couple, not much to be said and even less to be done for its liaison. Expensive alcoholic beverages being available, things went about as smoothly as they possibly could. The interesting parts (Most everyone Angstian was curious about the Roanians. They tended to dislike the Roanian society, regime, and just about everything else, and wondered about the Roanian style of diplomacy that would show soon) would come later, anyway.

This United State

"This is-" Actually, I wanted only nine of your guys in here. Not eighteen. "-Acceptable."

DD 01/09 then, well, stayed silent, merely watching the things the TUS delegation did, being mildly mystified (Not too much so, though. After all, comparable (But slightly less extreme) attitudes had been almost common in DA not all that long ago) and at least equally amused.

<DD 01/09> Hey, 01/03. What do you think?
<DD 01/03> Absolutely hilarious. I wonder if the other delegates will die of laughter.
<DD 01/09> Well, I certainly wouldn't rule out this option... Might be planned, to get competition out of the way.
<DD 01/03> Heh... They would be a good deal smarter than I expected them to be, then.
<DD 01/09> Good point. Makes the whole scenario slightly unlikely.
<DD 01/03> Mind you, with their gray skin, they're outright sexy.
<DD 01/09> ... I wont comment on that. Pervert.
* DD 01/03 cackles.

Here, DD 01/09 caught a glimpse of 'Hilda' waving. If it could have shuddered, it would have done it. Had it been a tree, it would have lost all its leaves, instantly.

<DD 01/09> This sensible audiosensors be damned. I could understand every word.
<DD 01/03> And? Going to?
<DD 01/09> ... I'm almost convinced that I should use her bust to crack your casing. In any case... Well, a little present to apologise for my lack of presence might do.

---

Back at the suites, the fGCD pondered for a moment or two. "Hrm. Looks like... Yay. My services wont be required."

It had originally come along to make sure that the majority of the TUS delegation would leave the conference room, just in case, but now that things had been settled, it was hardly necessary.

"Uh... Well..." Creepy. "Small talk, I guess. Ummm. Hrm. Well... You're taking this business rather serious, I guess, yes? You certainly look-" And act. "-Like it."

Poseidon

Marius Takashi walked downwards, eventually reaching the conference room, sighing a little, relieved that he wasn't the last one to arrive. Well, that and the precence of sufficient amounts of alcohol wasn't bad, either.

He nodded politely in every available direction and at every available delegate, heading towards his own seat in the large, circular arrangement of chairs and desks that had been made, and, with a murmured "Well, so far, so good...", sat down, glaring at the TUS delegation and quickly assessing the menace it could be, eventually deciding that it was comparatively low, despite its numerical superiority.

Elsewhere, the delegates that had yet to arrive in the conference room were politely reminded that the conference would soon start. Not that many were missing, but it would have been a terrible faux pas to have them arrive a minute late.

* Well, generally speaking, the biggest problem would be the operating system (I.e. Language). Hard to read the mind of someone when you're not understanding what he or her thinks. Sure, you can get some images, but generally, this is insufficient. Anyway, yes, different physiology, though not making it impossible, makes it a little... Well, one has to get used to it, and one might have some constant problems as well.

** Posted in jest, to be taken down after a proper edit

Mentathiel hummed softly, tapping away on the holographic keyboard of her PDA with a light stylus, swing playing quietly on a tiny portable stereo set up on the small bureau next to the equally small bed.
Menta didn't mind, she'd lived in much smaller quarters, though like most of the rest of her sisters she was almost totally free of the memories of those days. For now she was emailing one of those sisters, who as a journalist accompanying an independent squadron, was almost as isolated from the group as Menta.
Tapping the "Send" glyph, she angled her neck round at a knock on the door.
"What is it?"
"S'time ma-am." the bass voice of her Queen's Own escort came.
Menta automatically looked at her watch, then stood up and went out to the smaller room the white-uniformed trooper was waiting in, air-mattress in one corner, while Der Angst was considered a friendly nation and Poseidon was a safe area, the Queen's Own took their job seriously, hence the trooper, a heavily moustachioed Bathamian named Graves, who rejoiced in the nickname of "Fills", being near at hand at all times.
Graves looked her over, nodded firmly as she matched his standards of what an Ambassador-at-Large should look like and then fell into a quarter-speed march behind her down the corridor, keeping a close eye out for any members of the T.U.S delegation, who rumour had pegged as bloody weird, even when compared to Angstians or Feddies, and hence to be avoided unless one wanted one's electronics...handled. As it were.
A swift walk later and the pair slid quietly into the conference room, calmly taking their seats, nodding warmly to their allies, politely to the rest and, in Graves's case, glaring at the Iraqstani delegate, Menta contenting herself with merely reducing "politely" down to "coolly".
This accomplished, the two conversed quietly between themselves whilst waiting for the conference to formally convene.

Caitlin turned from Hannah and smiled at Isabelle as she spoke. “We were just getting ready for the conference.” She hoped that they had not been overheard in their conversation. Appearing to expect trouble did not look too good, and the last thing that the Tartarians wanted was to present a negative attitude. They had a bad habit of saying things that they were thinking and coming straight to the point, regardless of what those around them might think, of course, they also knew when to keep their cards close to their chests.

Letting Isabelle’s words sink in, she suddenly began to wonder if Hannah had not been right. “I’m sure there are ways of ensuring that not all of the horde make it too the conference. I’m sure there are ways of making people lose their way, most of the corridors look alike, after all.” She smiled, revealing herself to be joking on the matter. “Still, the last thing we need is trouble, even if it is of the law abiding kind.” Lawyers were not called the Devil’s Advocates for nothing.

Bruce calmly wandered the corridors, not wandering far in the diplomatic section. Mostly he stared out of a large window into the clouds of the blue planet, the piercing color reminding him fondly of home, of Rebecca’s eyes.

He missed her; this was the first time he had been away for an extended period since they had began their relationship. And it sucks, he thought. Checking his internal chronometer, he sighed, and headed to the conference room by way of his accommodation, picking up a data pad on the way.

Walking through the doors, Bruce looked around the room and grinned slightly at the TUS group. Don’t they look silly. I bet their sheer size causes more problems for them than it solves. A coherent negotiating strategy will be oddly synthesized, I think, from them. Oh well. Most of the group he could place, be it by bearing or manner or accoutrement, but there were a couple of women he could not. He decided he would sit by them until it was time to start, as they seemed to share his amusement with the TUS delegation. Always best to find out who exact was here, if he could, especially since he thought he knew all the powers with space interests. As humans were sometimes wont to do, he forgot to consult his built in memory of the drone listing off the attendees earlier.

Extending his hand as he walked up to them, he smiled. “Bruce Reynolds, Ambassador of the Federation of Sentient Peoples. Mind if I sit next to you?”

Elsewhere in the station, the two noncommissioned officers had found their way into a theater, and opening up the diplomatic credit account available to them, bought some tickets for the next show.

Hannah rose from her seat as the man had arrived, and had greeted him with a smile and shook his hand. She instantly registered his name, recalling some details of the Federation that she had floating in her mind. She would do a better search once she could return to her notes. “I’m Hannah, Hannah Murray, PA to Ambassador Caitlin Finch of Tartarus.”

She indicated the woman nearby, who altered her position slightly to be able to address both Isabelle and Bruce without cutting either with her body. She took hold of his hand and shook. “Ambassador Reynolds, it is a pleasure to meet you.” She matched Hannah’s smile with one of her own. “We would be honoured for you to sit with us.” She suddenly remembered her manners. “This is Isabelle Koyomi, our Liaison.” A frown marred her features briefly before her smile returned.

A few members of the T.U.S. delegation couldn't help but notice the almost imperceptible reactions of a couple of the other delegates, but quickly put it down to them ( The other delegates ) having either a brief fit of nerves or just simply not taking the the conferance seriously enough ... really, some of them only had two representatives, and good grief, just the one in some cases ... was this how they all did business ?

( Amatures ... )

Also, the drones and that Der Angstian fellow who'd just walked in, seemed worried about something ... from the way they clustered together now and again, was there going to be enough air ? They, the This United State, delegation all knew that Der Angst had had some troubles in the past, to say the very least, but surely they had enough oxygen for all the guests, after all this time ? While on some core mercenary level they wouldn't mind all that much if the other delegates did drop dead of ashpyxia, they, deeper ( Much so ) down, wanted the other delegates to be just as comfortable as they were so this meeting could at least be productive by virtue of making contact with other groups / governments and the like.

Also, if they all dropped dead it might look a bit odd ...

( Though it'd still be good for them, no risk of competition this time around ! )

Though, if there was not enough air, they still didn't mind -

( See the above, of course, though there was also the fact that ... )

- Before leaving This United State, they'd all been rushed into a Medical Clinic ( Though not the Directorate of Defense guys, it turned out they had more than enough stuff packed into them ) for some ... augmentation work. It turned out, the very same head of research who'd managed to fail to connect a planet named after the God of War to a habit of ... conflict on said planet, had also managed to link a colony on / in Neptune called Poseidon to the possibility they'd need to be able to breathe under-water, or at the very least, in low-oxygen conditions. While said researcher had since been promoted " side-ways " while the delegation had been on their way to Poseidon, the work was complete and the " damage " so to say, had since been done ...

It was all quite pain-less for the most part, barring the need to be jabbed by a " huge " needle and injected with ... invisible stuff floating in a chilled saline solution.

The stuff itself had in fact been, a " horde " ( Far too many to even bother counting here, really ) of nanite / capsid "hybrids", if you will. These hybrids are then set upon entry into the body to replicate in two stages. The first stage is a viral stage, where host cells of the structures produce new capsid proteins and then proceed to package them into new, various types of viral structures and get ready to send them off. In the so-called " early days ", before the technology was fully refined, one could develop a flu like set of symptoms while the body tried to adjust to the changes, and no doubt millions of dollars, and, millions more of the prototype nano-units, were lost in nasal mucus alone ...

There were some side effects now and again, depending usually on the batches of the stuff being made, but more often than not these were minor troubles and soon enough to be gone.

Next is the nano-tech stage, in which a microscopic receiver-transmitter array and programmed CPU construct ( Very, very, very tiny and once upon a time a real bitch to make in the lab, as they're coded to the users DNA for pre-and-post-sale security, aside from the fact we're talking mass replication on nano-scale building blocks and programming alone ) are also duplicated and inserted into the protective viral structures we read of being made just before-hand. These then remain in the host cell or " swim " off to where they're required in the body, depending on pre-programming, site of injection, etc.

These augmented cells and these new semi-artificial cellular sub-organs in them are activated by way of rapid, precise chemotherapy and a ( supposedly ) one-time, encoded microwave transmission to the receiver-transmitter array mentioned before. This cut down on the risk of boot-leg product getting loose, it was thought.

A 3 teir system of upgrades exists, facilitating " new " features and different ... levels of use, depending on the ... position which one holds in society.

( And just how much one can afford to blow on such " cool tech " ... )

For example, certain occular implants could range from basic x2 magnification over normal sight when requested, on user demand, to this plus IR / night-vision at tier-2, to a whole host of other features, usually reserved for military class black-ops and the like of which ...

Now, the upgrades exist by way of a string of ROM modules - shaped a little bit like the average donut - that diffuse into the blood upon injection and soon attach to a " spinal mount " on the nanite organelle ... things ... These extra bits are just hard-ware which contain new soft-ware " upgrades ", which I mean in the most direct sense of the word. They're also encoded in the lab to the users DNA, and once " connected ", will then give the organelles the information to order the selected " tame stem-cells " in the augmented location of the body to generate the new features, usually, by creating special cells or churning out some basic, or not so basic, kinds of nano-machinery add-ons, much like was done in a lab in a series of so-called " molecular lathes " to create the stuff that started all this off ...

( But, I do digress more than I mean to ... )

In the case of the delegates from T.U.S. it was a matter of giving them tier-3, the highest grade in the tier system, " aqualungs ". Specifically, these were something to do with sacks of " this molecule " made of " these elements " attached to the usual miniscule air sacks in your lungs and mine, or is it in them. Something like that. They made the whole carbon / oxygen exchange thing work better, and cut off the instant gag reflex one would usually have when they get out of a pool of water with a chest full of water sloshing around ...

However, according to the Education and Commerce Directorate lab-coated lackeys who ran the clinic, they weren't allowed to drink any booze for the next 36 hours. In light of the drinks now being set out before them all, this sort of ...

Sucked ...

They had of course noticed Marius Takashi enter, and frown, hence the discourse on present and projected oxygen levels above. But they figured he'd speak when the other delegates had turned up.

( Lazy bastards )

Mean-while, back in the hall ...

The lawyers had made their way back to the 3 suites, past the 3 cold-fish ( pity ) who'd come with them to Poseidon and the " new " drone, ( Who itself collected a fresh leer from Hilda ) and went back to drinking even more coffee in the previous used suite and planning where they'd head off to, to " research ", a.k.a. shop like crazy-bitches, because they could. Being absolute technophiles, they'd soon gotten the console to give them the requisite information and were about to head off. Except, of course, for our Hilda / Ms Smith, who was making good on her offer and waiting to see if that sleek little metal fellow wanted to ... drop by for some coffee ...

( In a, shall we say ... Grand Theft Auto, San Andreas fashion ... )

Until then, she was examining the full " pastry provision array " of the room-service and engaging in an in-depth taste analysis ... as it would say on her expenses log ...

I said " Back in the hall " itself :

Simultaneously, again ... the three young D.D. men stared right at the drone, and as another long second went by, agreed on a response which was directed to the drone in the same simultaneous monotone :

" We are trained to both " take " and apply ourselves to our duties to the fullest. Our style of dress and our manner has been calculated to suit the present situation of our assignment, if this is what you mean by our " look " ... "

By now, that supposedly " blank " stare had seen more than enough of the drones " (?) " electrical and magnetic emissions, this being realised via a far more " deep, deep-black " kind of " aug ", to work out it was in fact a drone, and was definately part of security. All 3 ever-so-slightly became more stiff in their posture in response, though this was more a masculine pride thing than any sort of definitive response to the information, though that was of course factored into the usual on-going threat assessments ...

you see, while minor side effects from a " batch " of aug-work wasn't all that un-common, even now, in this case a far more rare case of such had turned these 3 fine male specimens into ...

Raging homosexuals.

( Off duty. Usually. )

'Bored. Bored, bored, bloody bored.' muttered the young man in a shirt.
the older, just greying gentleman whapped him around the side of the head.
'Would have been easier to just annex the damn moon and then told them to sod off when they came knocking.' muttered the younger man again.

'Look Edward, if we did that they'd have probably wasted us before we got here. We'll sort this out, claim the moon and then we can start sorting things out.'

'Meh.' muttered David as he rounded a corner and the headed back towards their quaters.

Sirens of Titan Corpse Diplomatiqué Space Corvette

'So,' Captain Van Riebeeck started as he looked through the pannels, into space at Neptune 'we have finally reached our destination.' He scratched his chin, took a sip of coffee and returned to his luxurious quarters. In there he settled into his comfortable leather chair, something rare on SoT vessels. There he grabbed the first book of a shelf and started reading.

Looking at the cover, and the pages of yellowish paper he wanted to put it back but couldn't. Somehow the crumbling pages, the old dust and the smell of tealeaves and cardboard were too attractive. How I loved all these old things. They are getting more rare every day, and I own them. 'Good thing I'm a rich man' Van Riebeeck thought as he thumbed through the book, yet he couldn't focus on the text. He mind was too busy with Neptune and the Der Angstians that would be there, grand them a colony if everything works out.

The Hypocricy of Der Angst, as a nation, was quite the mystery for Sirens of Titan. In fact, virtually all the nations are a mystery to Sirens of Titan. It wasn't too long ago that the homeplanet of us was a "nothing" in space. A place nobody cared about, just letting it be the way it is. No more. The leaders, under heavy influence of the CEO, started up small explorations to the outside world. Not without a purpose, but to what end? It has something to do with Sol. Clearly.

Van Riebeeck ordered the communication team not to send out a call to Der Angst; instead they wanted to observe for a short while.

Huh. Wonder why they ranked an organic. Or even if the Angstians differentiate that way. Not that I particularly care, but it might be something for the D Section people back home to worry about.

“Pleasure to meet you, Miss Murray, Ambassador Finch.” The Liaison he merely nodded politely to, as well, she was just an underling, and not his assigned underling either. He briefly wondered where DD 01/04 had wandered off to, but then dismissed the consideration as he sat down in the comfortable chair, looking consideringly across at the TUS delegates.

He turned back to Hannah, indicating the black dressed crew with an angling of his hand. “They seem to be… overly prepared.”

Hannah’s gaze followed in the direction that Bruce had indicated, a frown marring her brow. “Either that, or we are very under prepared.” She laughed lightly, as she made herself comfortable in her chair, he eyes still focused on the group ahead. As she watched, she tapped a few details into her palmtop, making a note to look up details not only on the Federation, but on the people across from them.

She turned her head slightly towards the Ambassador. “You have not brought anyone with you.” She said as she suddenly noticed that he had entered the conference room on his own. “You must be organised to be able to do everything on your own?” She wondered if her question was too blunt, she was not the diplomat after all, but as Caitlin was busy with Isabelle, she felt that she should at least attempt to make some conversation to fill up the time.

Eyeing the Angstian delegate with disgust carefuly controled Baron Kleinburg cleared his throat and leanded foward "I am curious, of some things, mainly how many delegates there will be at this conferance and the process we will use to negotiate our claims?" He asks calmy, his drink barely touched in his hand before him.

If it comes down to a bidding war Iraqstan will win.. He thinks resolutely to himself, as he brushes an unseen speck of dirt from his Uniform carefully.

OOC eww short post.

Neptune

Gehenna Tartarus

Isabelle chuckled “Well, I guess we’ve found a way to restrict their numbers, slightly... Sufficiently.” She glared at the TUS delegation. “I hope. Hrm. In the lower levels, we could indeed…” Of course, she wasn’t any more serious than Caitlin, but she had to admit, the thought was a pleasant one.

She nodded politely when Bruce Reylond ‘arrived’, and that was about it. Really, it should begin any moment, now…

A few levels down

For the two officers, things went considerably… Interesting.

Granted, there was the language barrier (And why the hell middle Angstian was still used when the original ethnic group had long been sponged by those who came later was a question that could hardly be answered to anyone’s satisfaction), but language was hardly necessary to understand the troubles of… Well, what exactly?

As impressive the staging was, with its colours, movements, sounds and (Surprisingly enough) actors, its neverending ‘action’ (In a sense, anyway) and lack of order, it was somewhat hard to make out what exactly it was all about.

But then, this was understandable, given this odd mixture of Genesis, Hamlet, and the invasion of Knootoss back in 1800, involving a lost orphan and a clown.

This United State

While the conference was about to start, with the TUS delegation being vaguely quiet and not as annoying as DD 01/09 feared it to be, some of the less involed individuals (Most notably the ships around) glared at the means of transport the TUS delegation had used, almost jealous.

<SEU Absence of Common Sense> You know, an average of about 0.2c… It’s rather, well, wow.
<TEU Technically a Pacifist> To be fair, ain’t they building this new thing?
<SEU Absence of Common Sense> Well, yes, but I don’t think it could compete with this. I mean, really… They were almost like a second sun, out here.
<SEU Space Gnome> Heh. Yes, it was rather shiny. I dunno, perhaps someone in there will ask them about it. C fracs would be neat. I hate being a spacedy snail.
<SEU Absence of Common Sense> Hrm. Yes, would be neat. We will see, I guess.

In the conference room, DD 01/09 glared at nobody in particular, pondering Ms Smith, eventually getting an idea.

<DD 01/09> Hrm. SMD 4402/660?
<SMD 4402/660> Yes?
<DD 01/09> I have a favour to ask. Listen…
<SMD 4402/660> I will. Just be quick, I’m a little busy, down here, lots of customers.

About a quarter of an hour later, a delivery arrived at Ms. Smith room.

“Yes. Yes, it’s free of charge. A present from… A secret admirer.” The man holding the package chuckled knowingly.

Of course, it looked almost as if he was slightly scared by the somewhat, well, not particularly normal (Even for DA standards) Hilda.

In the hallway, the fGCD just… Blinked. “I… See.” Drones usually took their pride in being as individualistic as possible (No surprise there, the same was true for the biological citizenry of DA), and they would avoid acting… Simultaneously at all costs, even though, or rather, especially because it was almost outrageously simple to form a hivemindesque construct.

As a result, this three almost machinesque men scared the fGCD. That its own capacities were in all likelyhood an order of magnitude above those of this three men didn’t matter. “Well, uh… Ok. Now, since my services don’t seem to required, well... Have fun, I guess. I’m sure you love your work. Uh. Well. Bye then.”

With that, it turned, backing away, slowly, to avoid making this three Carbon-based robots nervous.

Creepy.

Midlonia

The Midlonians could certainly enjoy the more or less sterile, symmetric, well… It was either the beauty or the boredom of the hallways, depending on what ones preferences were. Granted, it wouldn’t really help them with finding the way to the conference room (Which was essentially what they were trying to do), but it was definitely better than nothing.

Of course, a liaison would have shown them the way, so would other people in the hallways. Then there were the signs and displays one could check to find the way, and finally, all the rooms the delegates stayed in were rather close to the conference room to begin with, and this was disregarding the occasional stampede of TUS lawyers one could follow, but, well…

They would surely find a different, unique way to acquire and interpret the necessary information.

Poseidon was most certainly amused by watching them. It alone wasn’t enough to make her day, but it certainly helped to get rid of her boredom.

Sirens of Titan

The TEU Technically a Pacifist glared at the Corpse Diplomatiqué, utilising passive as well as active sensors. Not having had any contact whatsoever with Sirens of Titan, not knowing their ships, and lacking anything even remotely resembling identification, it was rightfully… Well, nervous would be a little much. Sure, it was only a Tactical Engagement Unit, but still, its ‘Peacemakers’ should be sufficient. In any case, it didn’t know who this was, what it was, what it wanted, or anything else that could possibly be of importance.

<TEU Technically a Pacifist> What the fuck are they thinking? Whoever they may be.
<SEU Space Gnome> Poke ‘em.
<SEU Absence of Common Sense> Poke ‘em.
<TEU Technically a Pacifist> Hrm. Ok then.
<TEU Technically a Pacifist> *pokes*
<TEU Technically a Pacifist> Ahem. Unknown ship, may I ask who you are and what you want here? Neptune’s currently a little, well… Undergoing some changes, so we are somewhat paranoid…

Needless to say, while Technically a Pacifist wasn’t the most impressive ship, to a corvette, it still looked vaguely menacing.

Especially given that it was now kind of pointing into Corpse Diplomatiqué’s direction, which meant that it could concentrate most of its firepower on it, should the need arise.

Iraqstan

Karin giggled a little as she watched Baron Kleinburg’s attempts at controlling his disgust for her. Still… She had to at least try and keep a straight face. Looking almost serious, her furred tail curling up next to her legs, she eventually replied. “Well… About… Ah, yes. Eleven delegations are expected. Two haven’t arrived yet, though, and one…” She giggled, being kept up to date by Poseidon. “Well, lets just say that Midlonians are truly fantastic at getting lost. I’m not sure… Has the National-Socialist Union ever had dealings with them?”

She hesitated. “As for the proceedings… Well-“ She stopped, watching the front table with Marius Takashi behind and a few plants to the let and right of it. “I think he will clear this up, in a moment.”

The Conference

Seeing as (Almost) everyone was present, and those who weren’t had either not arrived (At least Marius thought they hadn’t) or were failing to reach the conference room due to their own… Well, essentially speaking, it was ineptness, Marius Takashi eventually decided to begin what he hoped wouldn’t end in a bitchfest of random, personal attacks, like so many other conferences and negotiations.

“Hrm. Ahem.” He coughed a little. “Welcome on Poseidon, and to this hopefully mutually profitable and enjoyable negotiations that have attracted so many interested, and partly unexpected, but most definitely fascinating participants. Now that we’re essentially complete…” Not that the Midlonians are particularly popular. Although I would love to see them and Serrat fighting it out on the floor. “I think we can begin. First of all, a little update. As some of you might know, the Moontians, in all their lack of military glory and industrial capacity, now that they wasted their resources on switching systems, were apparently a little more territorial than expected… We could clear the matter up by way of paying a negligible sum of money, though. Nonetheless, this means that for whatever territory you will eventually acquire, a more or less symbolic payment to us will be necessary… Not much, though, I suppose that generally speaking, triple digit millions… Yes, millions, we don’t intend to makea profit, here.” Not much of one, anyway.

Takashi blushed slightly. Given the assumptions he had organised this with, this change wasn’t necessarily for the best, and he hated to look greedy. Still, this was what the council had decided to run with.

“For the future, this means that in all technicality, we hold the entirety of neptune. Not that we intend to keep it forever. Well, except certain parts.” He tried to laugh, albeit a little poorly so. “Anyway. As monetary as this may look like, we do not intend to make this a ‘Bidding War’, given the very bad experiences various nations have had with this kind of action, in the past.

“Not that money wont be able to help a little, of course, but it isn’t the only, nor the most important piece in the puzzle. Generally speaking… The idea of this conference is to avoid a second mars. We’re essentially interested in a stable-“

Very much so, given that right now, we don’t even have the means to hold the entire subsystem. Meh.

“-neighborhood. Friendly and profitable relations, essentially a ‘Neptune Block’ that is more or less capable of acting together. Or, well, at least not against each other.

“As such, the first thing I would consider… Useful, would be to see what everyone wants. If claims conflict we can negotiate, if not, well…” He chuckled. “A short conference, then.” Here he stopped, until DD 01/09 politely glared at him, reminding that this wasn’t everything.

“Oh, right, and of course, we, well, everybody would like to know what everyone else intends to do with the acquired holdings. It is rather obvious that we’re not particularly eager to have the major fleet base of a regime with a particularly zealous foreign policy here.

“Following this, if the proceedings are smooth enough to suggest further success, we could then perhaps negotiate about possible multilateral ties in order to define the future of neptune’s, ah… Multilateral relations, essentially. Well, this was superficial… Nevermind. Nonetheless, for now, to sort out who wants what, well, yes, that’s the question.”

Nodding Baron Kleinburg watches the neko's tail curl up with a slight look of disgust before continuing. "Only eleven delegates, interesting. No unfortunately we've had no dealings with them. I gather their reputation for getting lost is quite the amusing one." He says with a slight chuckle.

Listening to the start of the conference Baron Kleinburg clears his throat at the end and speaks up. "Greetings my fellow delegates, I'm sure most of you are aware of The National Socialist Union, but many are not aware of the corporation I represent.

A short brief is the Iraqstani Mining Corporation has for many years now been restrained to mining asteroids for resources and selling them back to our trade partners. With a recent relaxation in trade laws in the Union we find ourselves... To simply put it, capable to extending our operations further out. In such IMC would like to place a claim down for the moon Nereid. We are acting both as Iraqstani Mining Corporation and on behalf of the Iraqstani Exploratory fleet whom wish to set up a refueling and resupply station on the moon along with our desire to exploit the moon for it's most prominant resource which is ice.

Many of you may think that Iraqstan is looking to expand militarily into the region but no, we simply require a last stop depot in our quests for further exploration of the universe. We would hinder no nations and would accept quite happily any nation wishing to use our facilities. That is about all we want, we have been contemplating a further claim to the obriting bodies S/2002 N1 and S/2003 N1 as well as Nereid for housing of exploration drones. I trust this is what the conference or the owners of neptune are requireing to know? We are of course capable of paying the required fee as well."

Finishing the baron takes his seat and takes a large sip of his drink.

Maradas took some notes and marked off one of the moons on his pocket map, his eyes darting to check some statistics that filtered across his networked computer assistant. Nereid goes to the Iraqstanis. Sounds...suitable.

Beside him, Lan looked almost asleep. But inside his head, thoughts whirled quickly. Iraqstan looks to be an interesting power, despite the...lunacy of its leadership.

The elf and the human shrugged and waited their turn.

'Conference room, conference room,' muttered David Dring as he straightened out his suit and checked the small brass Dove on his lapel. He was staring at a data terminal cycling through a map of the complex, when he finally found the conference room, both of his eyebrows raised.

The door was right behind him.
'Son of a..'

He quietly entered the room and listened to the Neko finish.

“Following this, if the proceedings are smooth enough to suggest further success, we could then perhaps negotiate about possible multilateral ties in order to define the future of neptune’s, ah… Multilateral relations, essentially. Well, this was superficial… Nevermind. Nonetheless, for now, to sort out who wants what, well, yes, that’s the question.”

He then let the gentleman Baron Kleinburg talk.

After that he cleared his own throat.

'My name is David Dring from the Midlonian Economic and Diplomatic corps. I am here to lay claim to the moon of Proteus, we intend to use it for syphoning off some of the planet's atmosphere to be used as fuel. We do intend to have a small fleet presence in the area, mainly to defend our assets and keep our trading runs safe, this is a joint claim made by the Concordat of Hermes. Nothing to serious I hope.'

<Mariah Lee> Thanks. Ooh...nice connection. What's your pipeline? Gotta be a gig at least.

The Weyrean representative, unlike the communications technician, actually had to work with non-Weyrean data systems, which perhaps explained why she knew the term. That she cared about the bandwidth on the other end was a different matter. She was essentially holding two conversations at once -- listening and watching the delegates and reading the text conversion from Neptune Core.

The woman pulled an antique-looking typewriter closer to her, making its image a part of the data stream and thus in theory visible to everyone, so she didn't look like she was fiddling with invisible things. She pondered getting up for some food from the fridge, and was about to press the 'idle' button when Marius Takashi began to speak. So instead, in a few keystrokes she adjusted her hair color to hot pink, which still somehow looked natural and turned on a small nameplate that actually told the others present at the conference that they were speaking to Mariah Lee

Yes, Iraqstan is going to build a exploration base. I assume the nukes are implied? Nevermind that there's nothing much to mine unless you go out to the Kuiper. Okay, so we got two armed camps already. Figures, she thought, in so many words, noting down points to follow up on later. The beauty of remote-conference was its ability to record everything on the data stream without bein invasive about it. Granted, the quality wasn't as good due to the dual translation and high-level compression that allowed the data to be sent to and recieved from the Unnecessary Cleavage, mostly felt through the lack of fine inflections and gestures, but the risk-benefit analysis did not favor putting a physical delegate on Neptune.

"Weyr, for the forseeable future, is interested in securing materials extraction facilities within Neptunian atmosphere," perhaps a dozen rapid, silent keystrokes, and Lee's hologram turned translucent, replaced with a representation of a small gas extraction and storage facility with a three-axis scale.

"The actual management and construction willbe handled by independent concerns, but the Ministry of Economy will be overseeing at least the initial stages of development." The facility gave way to a ship that, according to the scale was a hundred-eighty meters in length.

"There will be periodic visits by Stock Frigates," and depending on necessity a permanent port facility, but considering the relative militarization of Sol as a whole the Self-Defense Force's presense will hardly be felt." Lee's hologram became solid again, merging with the ship.

The Conferance Room

While Mr Marius Takashi began the proceedings, the TUS delegation would tend to nod along, smile or chuckle very quietly, when-ever it was expected to be appropriate, of course. Perfect examples of trained diplomacy. It would have been quite natural looking too, had they not all done it in so ... synchronised a way ...

" Not much ... Yes, millions, we don’t ... "

Though all eighteen of them had in place blank faces, and polite smiles, a single thought, well, a few actually, but all of which would run on the same basis, had being sent to each of them, from each-other, if you see what I mean, and it was :

Pocket Money ! ! !

They then listened to the Iraqistan representative, having decided to test the waters with the other delegates before stepping into it ... hopefully, no one would piss in the pool, so to say, before they got in ...

" IMC would ... for the moon Nereid .. . S/2002 N1 and S/2003 N1 ... "

Consequently, various comments flashed across the links between the T.U.S. delegates ...

[CD1] Do we know them ?
[ED1] We know of them, I think ...
[JD1] Bit of a credit risk, you might say, but nothing too serious if they're being honest.

( logged )

[CD1] Are they being honest ?
[ED1] Well, he can't tell you straight off the bat, you know, it takes prior -
[JD1] Hush, we'll see ...

Midlonia was next, of course, despite having just walked into the room :

" lay claim to the moon of Proteus ... atmosphere to be used as fuel ... "

Of course, by now, the 3 Directorate of Defense / Defense Directorate / D.D. lackeys were listening in too, and were able to comment.

[CD2] Tardy and rude ...
[ED2] Fuel ? Cost effective, much ? Something we don't know I guess ...
[JD2] Ours is not to reason why ... Well, it is, but sometimes who can be bothered with that sort of thing ?

[DD1] Don't forget, they want a fleet here ...
[DD2] Don't forget, they want a fleet here ...
[DD3] Don't forget, they want a fleet here ...

( logged )

* DD1 slaps self about for for leaving Simultaneous.exe running ...
* DD2 slaps self about for for leaving Simultaneous.exe running ...
* DD3 slaps self about for for leaving Simultaneous.exe running ...

( DD1, DD2, DD3 {access[remote link]method} have been reset, error : tripped flood detector. )

* CD3 snickers

...

Then there was the Weyr talking over that ... long distance remote link ...

" Weyr ... securing materials extraction ... atmosphere "

[LEGAL] We know them from Mars ... fleet again ? Some people and their need for ...

Also, since T.U.S. didn't presently have any interest in Neptune itself, they didn't really have much to say to each other about it.

[LEGAL] Our turn, boys and girls ...

...

The Purchase (?)

By this point, one of the less obviously ... plugged in of the Delegation, of the Mr Smith kind, had stood to address the conferance.

" Hullo, I'm Mr Smith, and I'm here on behalf of the Director of This United State, T.R. Kom, along with the rest of my associates here, "

* And so insert mildly disturbing, simultaneous nod from such here *

He gave a quick glace at some small palm-cards in his hand before he moved on, and this was when something rather amazing happened ...

When Something Rather Amazing Happened

( Quite so. )

At this very moment, one of the other Mr Smith members of the delegation, stood, and pulled from his pockes a variety of small objects, which all bore quite an accurate semblance to the very moons and orbiting objects of Neptune them-selves, which he began to, of all things, start to juggle ...

And quite well, if I do say so.

" Now, " said the first Mr Smith, " imagine that my associate, Mr Smith here, "

That might've been a bit confusing, but he hurried on,

" - We're all Mr or Ms Smith by the way, but we're of no relation, anyway - "

That of course wasn't just confusing, but bloody weird, but he moved swiftly along, plucking out with some mild skill the three objects of which the Iraqistani had noted interests in, and Proteus, too, placing them on the table in a cluster,

" - is Neptune itself, and these here " (pointing!) " are the four moons and, or, objects all-ready claimed, if you will, "

He plucked out three more, all perfect replicas of -

" Thalassa , Despina, and Galatea, which I note I state in order of their orbit out from Neptune itself - "

The juggling Mr Smith gave a crowd pleasing smile to the conferance chamber,

" - No, not you. Errr, yes, those are the three that we'd like to negotiate for. "

In a period of say, five seconds, the four claimed moons / objects that'd been on the table, and those that'd been hanging in mid-juggle, had " fallen " or been swept off into the pockets of the just-now-juggling Mr Smith, and he'd sat down, looking quite plain again. Well, as plain as he'd been the first time. The talkng Mr Smith joined him in sitting, and placed the 3 " toy " moons in front of him on the table.

" Now, ummm, what we'd like to do is drill into each of them, hollow out a largish carvern, treat it, toss in a simple ecosystem, and generally colonise them to expand our selective population base. We project we should be able to, over time, cram a few hundred thousand of our people into each with relative comfort to that of our our present city-state on Mars. On the out-side, we'll set up mostly auto-mated production plants, research labs, cargo storage yard, port facilities, the usual, if you will. As for defense, we're looking at mostly static emplacements, or tethered, if you will, satellites. Usual, low key stuff. We're not very militant and we believe that Neptune should be able to get along with itself without too many troubles, really. "

He blinked, while sparks in the software sent by other members of his delegation, were prompting him to say :

" It isn't, mind you, that we're adverse or unable go about to killing things, its just that we'd rather not have to. That is all there is to say about that, really. "

He " cracked " each of the three little toys open, showing small and finely produced little white-diamond cities dug into the rich ochre insides, and an extrodinary looking little ecosystem cavern-sphere in each one, full of lush greenery, lakes, and a glowing " sun " in the core of the empty space of the cavern-sphere. It was all very magical, in a hand-crafted artists way.

" Ultimately, we'll be just another series of Neutral trade ports, like T.U.S. New London is, but to serve the Neptune community, and to house our slowly expanding population. We'd be using mostly in-house funds and labour, with a lot of automation to boot ... "

He popped the little things into his own pockets, and stood again,

" So, yes, we expect we should have no troubles with the ... fiscal arrangement raised by Mr Takashi, and barring our having a conflict of interest with any other party here, we'd be willing to pay today, if that shall be okay with you, Mr Takashi. "

He sat down, and the entire delegation smiled as one to the conferance.

Creepy, yes, but trying to be nice.

In The Hall ( But not of the Mountain King )

Of course, while all this ... sheer odd-ness had been afoot, some equally disturbing events had been taking place back in the corridor out-side the suites.

As the delivery fellow, and the security-floaty, made their way, well, away, Hilda shut the door of the suite, various colours and ... scents of pasty-filling around her lips.

The three Defense Directorate " muscle " men on guard out-side then observed some very ... well, they heard and saw things. Thing-things.

There was the sound of muffled questions, muffled noises of a box been torn open ... muffled shouts of glee from Hilda, one assumes ... ( un-identified noise ) ... Hilda was heard to shout, though muffled, testament to her lung power, " OH, TENTACOOD-CUTE ! ", muffled screams, and as one, the entire population of the room, barring Hilda, and what ever had been in that box of hers, left the room at speed and set off slightly early on their way to do some serious mind-and-sanity-saving-shopping.

The door sealed shut tight, as various ( And mercifully so, still muffled ) noises of joy and battery operated, plushy material covered, mechanical .. never-mind, were still detectable to even an un-augmented human ear.

The three D.D. men sort of paused, and shrugged at each other. It was Hilda after all, and it'd be hypocritical for them to say to each other then that it wasn't as if they weren't thinking of bunking off just about then into the opposite suite for something definately other than assigned duties with each other, un-clothed I specify, now that security drone-thing was creeped-out enough and had left. Granted, they weren't sure if the empty suite between the one Hilda was in, and the one they were planning to soon use would be able to silence the present ... noises, but, they could still hope and pretend so.

And so before the door to the opposite suite shut behind them, one could have heard,

" - last love, I'm just dying for a good sha - "

...

* o.o;

Maradas marked off those moons as well. Concordat. A dangerous and warmongering alliance. He thought to himself, tapping his foot against the ground as he listened, bored, to the Statesians and Weyriks. Beside him, Lan shifted in his seat.

Maradas nodded, and rose to his feet. In slightly accented english he began. "Greetings. I represent the Imperial Trading Guild." The elf studied his 'papers' and frowned, smoothing back his hair. "We, unlike many of the other groups represented here, do not wish to claim a moon."

He placed his machine down, and a holographic projection appeared in the air of Neptune and its system. At an orbit roughly within the inner section of the moons, a light blue sattelite was indicated. "We would instead like to keep Pinnacle2 in orbit, and, of course..." Several blue dots appeared on the atmosphere of the planet, "We would like to set up floating cities. One at first, with possibly 2 more to follow." Maradas glanced around once more, bowed at the waist, and sat down.

Lan rose to his feet, said the usual perfunctory words about how his government will support the Guild's colony until it gets off its feet, and how "I hope that on Neptune, a model of peaceful cooperation between nations can be formed." Then he too bowed and sat down.

Serrat sat through the first several proposals with a blank face, playing a solitary game of guessing what each nation wanted. His guesses for Weyr and Midlonia were fairly close to the mark, but no information he had on T.U.S. prepared him for the…performance that took place during their presentation. He recovered from the bare-faced shock just in time to learn his guess of “A gigantic golden floating Mosque that shoots lightning at disbelivers” was completely off for Iraqstan, bur that’s what you get by going off of names only.

As soon as the Roanian delegation finished, Serrat stood and addressed the table. “For those who are not aware, I am Count Montague de Serrat, head of the Skeelzanian delegation here. I was tasked by God to put forth Skeelzanian plans of expansion in the Neptune system, and here they are.

“Like Roania, we do not wish to claim a moon, although any this conference sees fit to give us we would gladly accept. Instead, we hold a rather modest goal of two floating barges in Neptune’s upper atmosphere, as well as…” he reached into a pocket and withdrew a flat, black object. Setting it on the table, he pressed a few buttons and slid it towards the center. A holo-image of Neptune’s planetary weather phenomena, the Great Blue Spot, popped up into the center of the room. And within that spot was a gigantic fan.

“As well as a power-station that, we hope, would provide all the energy the Neptune system would ever need. This construct, dubbed “the Mill” by Skeelzanian scientists, is not dissimilar to your basic hydroelectric turbine, such as you would find on terrestrial windmills. Truth be told, the Mill really is a gigantic windmill turned on its side and placed within the storm. A turbine at the center generates energy, which is then beamed via microwave to a geosynchronous satellite, and to the rest of the system’s installations from there.

“Skeelzania has the means and materials to construct this Mill, as well as maintain it indefinitely. From there we can supply the rest of you Solars with all the energy out here you would want. Much more reliable than any other energy source, and significantly safer than antimatter or fusion. Of course, we would require a third, much more substantial station to monitor the fan. This can be an orbital barge like our other two bases, or built on one of the larger moons of the system; say, Triton. This base will also serve the double purpose of trading and diplomatic post between Skeelzania and Sol, and of course will be in full communication with the Sternreich proper.” The implied threat there, of course, that if someone felt like moving against it they would have a Skeelzanian battlefleet rammed down their throats in two weeks.

His presentation done, Serrat clicked off the holodisplay and settled back in his seat.

In the stunned silence that followed Serrat's pronunciation, Lan raised his hand. "Excuse me, may I?" Without waiting for a response, the ambassador stood up. "While of course we are...gratified by the offer of the Skeelzanians, we feel that it is only fair to point out that the Great Blue Spot, according to our scientists and exploration crews and the collected knowledge of all intelligent lifeforms in Sol, is not a storm, but rather, a hole in Neptune's atmosphere." He adjusted his robes, and continued in his most boring and pedantic voice, "We thank you, on behalf of all the prospective dwellers in the Neptune system, for your offer."

He sat back down and leaned in his chair to stretch. Maradas, meanwhile, did nothing but brush back his hair to show his pointy ears, than glare at Serrat as if only diplomatic niceties kept the man alive.

N-OOC: EDIT: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Great_Dark_Spot <===Linky

As the Skeelzanian took his seat, Menta rose fluidly, twitching the seams of her dress Blues, casting a cold look at Serrat.
"Whilst we must offer appreciation for the spirit of offer, the Kingdom will be first in registering it's complete abhorrence for relying on such an unstable and notedly speciest power as Skeelzania for anything, let alone power for space installations."
She pushed her braids back away from her ears, the tiny bell-earrings in their tips glinting slightly.
"We would encourage the rest of the delegates to follow this line, but the Kingdom is, unlike some, not given to throwing it's weight around at the slightest provocation, so if you feel that you must acquiesce to this...proposal..."
She shrugs, face emotionless.
"Aside from registering our disquiet at the presence of a power which is most noted for it's recent...adventures, shall we say, near Mars, the Kingdom simply wishes to acquire the moon Larissa."
Menta folds her hands in front of her on the table.
"I won't dissemble, we intend to turn Larissa into a sizeable military base, but we believe that this will probably be a positive for Neptune, having a stable power having a major military presence in the area."
She smiles opaquely and takes her seat.

As the other delegates spoke out concerning what they wished to get out of the conference, Caitlin listened intently. It seemed that everyone had come here with a good reason to ask for land, though some seemed to be forgetting that at the moment, this was merely a proposal meeting, and nothing definite was yet decided. She rose from her seat as the room went silent, and spoke, having taken a sip of water before doing so.

“I am Ambassador Caitlin Finch, and I am here on behalf of her Imperial Majesty, Empress Gehenna and the Empire of Tartarus.” She paused to a moment, giving the others time to place where and who she was. “As to my purpose for attending this conference, I am here purely because the Empress has decided that it is time for the Empire to expand its position in the world…and off of it.

“For many years, the Empire has kept itself to itself, not willing to play any part of in the international community. The opening up of the Neptune and its moons, gives us the potential to change some of that, if we are granted some space here. We are not looking for more than some land, on any of the inhabitable moons, where we can have a colony, which will help us in our experiments into space and its mysteries.

“We have recently begun working with another nation to enable us to move freely through space, and we will be looking for other nations to supply us with the equipment and other items that we will need in order to expand the Empire into the stars.” She paused again. “We understand that this will cost a considerable amount, and we are also looking to work closely with other nations, who would be willing to share their knowledge and help us.”

Her eyes moved around the room, flicking between each of the delegates around the table. “We only ask that Der Angst considers our request. We are not here to have a major military existence, nor are we looking to mine or do anything that will endanger our potential new neighbours. Thank you.”

She lowered herself back down into her chair, glad that that was over and done with. She picked up her glass, and took a long sip of the alcohol that the drone had delivered earlier.

Ballocks. Serrat gave, for him, a small shrug. "Guess our information on Neptune is somewhat out of date. After all, we haven't had any real presence in this system in 500 years, and our traders aren't the most scientific types.

"I would also like to comment Britmattia's proposal. Aside from their railing against us, they wish to turn the Larissa moon into a military base, believing it positive for Neptune to have a stable power having a major military presence in the area. We Gammites are a simple people and acclamated to a tough existance, but even I find your proposal somewhat dubious, seeing that Neptune has gotten along just fine without any real military presence at all. Perhaps it is only some latent paranoia on your part manifesting these threats, but we don't really perceive them or whatever benefits the military base will provide."

The Conference

Marius Takashi listened, making a few notes, sighing only occasionally. A little interruption by the Midlonians, but that was expected.

He pondered DA Neptune’s own, rather undefined plans, courtesy of not having thought about expanding the present holdings, and then suddenly owning the whole damn planet and its moons. Well, he would have to make something out of it.

He glared at TUS juggling, not really sure what he should think about it (After all, holograms would work just as good), for a moment wondering if this whole thing was filled with insanity from the various involved parties, before eventually giving up this particular line of thought.

After all, Poseidon being Angstian, insanity was to be expected.

The Roanians were next. Takashi was surprised by the apparent sanity of their interests, which was kinda at odds with Roania’s history, but then, well… It didn’t really matter. After all, there were still people remaining who would have to voice their interests. Nonetheless, for now, he noted the Roanians down as a more or less suitable partner.

Of course, some additional agreements would probably be necessary, given Roania’s tendency of being assraped by foreigners, and he didn’t really want such a situation resulting in Neptune’s balance being tipped.

Ack, religious freaks. Takashi sighed at Count Serrat’s ‘tasked by god’ comment, something that striked him as more than just ‘a little’ odd. Still, their interests were moderate, and while the microwave cannon was an odd thing (And given the ludicrous amounts of energy most nations produced, kinda pointless), well… He could deal with it.

Britmattia was, of course, not an issue. Granted, Britmattia wasn’t as stable as as Menta claimed, but it had been useful in the past, and while Takashi was very keen on keeping Concordat members & Skeelzania at Neptune demilitarised (He supposed that he wouldn’t have problems with Skeelzania, given the ‘Two weeks’ comment), a Britmattian military presence would, in essence, be useful.

Not that he would admit this openly… After all, he had to acknowledge the egos of certain delegates, be they Midlonian or Skeelzanian.

Finally, he was positively surprised by the Tartarians, almost managing a smile in the middle of apocalyptic nightmares regarding another clash of Skeelzania versus Midlonia and friends.

“Hummm. Thank you. Well, so far… This should work out easily enough, given a sifficient amount of securities.” He hesitated, sort-of-implying that he wished the discussion to continue for a little while. He was quite interested in learning what his (Potential) future neighbors were thinking, and listening to them and their bickering would be most helpful to do so. “As for Tartarus, I’m sure a nice spot on Triton or the entirety of a smaller moon can be found, we do, after all, have enough of them. I hope that such would be… Useful enough? We would certainly be glad to be of assistance to Tartarus, given its exceptionally impressive diplomatic records.

"Oh, and Count Serrat... You would be surprised by the currents of powerplay in sol. A military base by a stable, local power can be exceptionally useful, contrary to what logic tells us. I know, it's odd, but... It's the truth, Mercury being the prime example. And given that Britmattia has in the past given military assistence to us when we required it, it would be somewhat arrogant from us to deny them such a thing. After all, they didn't try to take us over back then, despite being able to do so, so I doubt that they are a threat. Quite the opposite, I believe that Britmattia can be exceptionally helpful."

Subtle Subcommunications

<Poseidon (Core)> Heh… More than enough, believe me. Although it doesn’t seem to be perfect… Oh well. Nothing’s ever perfect. Aside from you, of course.

---

oocness: I’m a little pressed with time. A post consisting of more than fillings of little importance will follow tomorrow.

Bruce grinned at the female aide. “Organized? Not especially, though certain elements of technology make it easier for me to keep up. But mostly, my military escorts keep me on time for things, and when I need to store information, there is always this,” he produced a small black box as he spoke, which he set on the table.

It was not shiny, but matte, and revealed no visible interface. At least, not for a second. Then, above it, a holographic panel appeared, on which Bruce pressed a couple of buttons. “Ah, looks like we’re starting,” he murmured. Smiling at Hannah, he turned his attention to the Angstian representative.

Silently, as the Angstian finished the first bit of his opening remarks, Bruce opened a link to the shuttle, and slapped a hold on five hundred million of the IRD discretionary budget over his direct linkup via TacNet. It was rather nice to be second in charge of the third most funded directorate. That much money was… the expression ‘chump change’ came to mind.

Listening carefully to all the presentations, Bruce smiled as the Angstian finished up his summary. Then he stood calmly, taking in the assembled group. “The Federation is most interested in the Neptune Subsystem for three primary reasons. Firstly, unoccupied real estate in this system is becoming very rare, and we are seeking such to establish a colony to help relieve some of the population pressure in the homeland, though considering the location, I can’t personally imagine more than one in five hundred eligible people making the choice, and while far, Neptune is not as far as another system through the warp point. Secondly, like many nations, the Federation depends heavily on trade, which we would like to establish with peaceable nations in an uncluttered and secure environment, unlike Earth. Third, we are hoping to prevent certain destabilizing influences from gaining purchase in the outer system, though,” his gaze lingered on the Iraqstani Mining Representative, “that may be less of a problem than I thought, seeing as the nations we were truly worried about declined to arrive or failed to be invited, I’m not sure which.” Speaking softly, he muttered under his breath so that it would take extremely good augmented hearing to listen, or be sitting right next to Bruce, “Assuming milord Baron isn’t lying.”

He spoke back up to the room. “To this end, we wish a moon which could be turned into a colony and possibly a Fleet base for our anti-piracy operations in the outer system. I’m sure milady from Britmattia would not mind her future allies sharing Larissa.”

As he sat down, he added, almost as an after thought. “We would of course like to establish a permanent fleet presence to protect a future colony, and were we to get a presence here, we would be interested in joining some sort of Neptunian League, for, ah, mutual cooperation, if one were to be formed.”

* * * * *

After four hours of the play, the Petty Officer First Class Jason Dawes was sound asleep, despite the noise. The utter confusion of the play had totally undone him, and he had shut off his audio inputs to his processing centers to be spared the pain, as his younger crewmate seemed to be enjoying herself.

And Petty Officer Third Class Margo Gathon was enjoying herself, at least, as much as she could. Despite the relatively small salary of an E4, she made a point of enjoying theatre when in Griffin as much as she could, and this was far more… original than anything she had ever seen there.

She made a note to remind someone that they needed language downloads when they were going somewhere that did not routinely speak common, though.

But four hours in, she decided she was hungry and had had enough. After all, with the IRD footing the bill, they could always come back later. Shore allowances for Diplomatic Shuttle crews were… generous. She shook PO Dawes awake and they quietly departed.

Hopefully, in this utterly strange place, they would be able to find something resembling normal food.

For the record, since Tiburon is currently unavailable, I'm essentially negotiating his part for him, as (Kind of) agreed to on IRC.

The Conference

Lesse... Tiburon... Naiad and Proteus. Iraqstan... Nereid, S/2002 N1 and S/2003 N1. Midlonia... Proteus. Hrm. Well, they are allied to Tiburon, so this should work out. Weyr goes for... Just a little orbiting station. Well, that's no problem. And given Neptune's sheer size, the mining shouldn't exactly be a traffic problem for our barges. Of course, Weyr tends to blow up, occasionally... But so do we. TUS... Well, that's greedy. Three moons. Thalassa, Despina, Galatea. Oh well, if nobody else wants them...

Roania. Takashi shuddered briefly. Oh well. Another orbiting station is hardly a problem, neither are a few more floating cities. Could even be interesting. And the guilds should be somewhat more acceptable than Roania proper. Skeelzania... Well, I don't think that anybody will need their energy, but they're certainly free to try and sell it. And two floating barges are hardly a problem.

Britmattia. Larissa. Well, perfect, I would say. Sentient Peoples... Meh. Why not. They can come to an agreement with britmattia on their own. Hopefully.

"Well..." Takashi said, in a somewhat neutral voice. "I can't see many problems, here." Okay. There is this thing about possible conflicts between Iraqstan and Sentient Peoples. But meh. I suppose that Iraqstan is a minor problem. "Generally speaking, we're quite willing to grant essentially all requests... I hope that the delegates from Tiburon and Midlonia, as well as Iraqstan, realise that one can hardly claim what is currently owned by us, though. Of course, one can ask for it."

He hesitated for a moment, taking advantage of the alcohol available on his desk. "Now, a few minor problems... First, I suppose that Midlonia and Tiburon may want to discuss the Proteus issue with each other, rather than wanting to have us as a referee. Given that your two nations have rather excellent relations with each other, I suppose that you'll quickly come to a mutually acceptable agreement.

"Second, I take it that not everyone is fond of the idea of Iraqstan having a presence in the Neptunian subsystem." He hesitated again, for a moment glaring at Karin, who had her tail toying a little with Baron Kleinberg's legs.

How inappropriate. Well, I guess she likes having fun.

"However, considering DA's past, and rather positive experiences with Iraqstan, we're generally inclined to honour its requests."

Usually, Takashi would have required demilitarisation, but given Iraqstan's not particularly impressive space capacities, he didn't really see the need to mention it.

"Neither do we see a problem with Weyr's interests in the region, and would be equally willing to grant the request. The same goes for Roania... Although in this particular case, some additional agreements would be necessary. While I recognise the Imperial Trading Guilds... Unique position inside Roania, we would still require the Roanian assets to be demilitarised. Which is to say, not complete demilitarisation, but merely limiting them to fixed defences on Pinnacle2 and the floating cities, but lacking offensive assets, read, a constant presence of warships.

"With regards to Skeelzania, we don't see a problem, although given the more recent history, a demilitarisation comparable to what we expect from the Guilds would, again, be required. Incidentally, the same goes for Midlonia. It would be a somewhat, ah... Tense situation to have Skeelzania and/ or Midlonia being capable of shooting each other in the subsystem. No offense intended, this is just a basic fact of the more recent history. Once your two nations manage to have somewhat more civilised relations with each other, those terms can be changed, though. For te time being, DA Neptune would guarante the security of your holdings, just like we would guarantee the security of Roania's holdings.

"As far as This United State is concerned, we don't see any problems, although three moons sound, well, a lot. we just hope that TUS is capable of using them properly.

"With regards to Britmattia and Sentient Peoples, we would of course be honoured to have them as neighbors. In arms. I'm sure that your two nations, just like Midlonia and Tiburon, can come to an agreement with regards to Larissa."

Another bit of alcohol. The new turbo livers really were worth something.

"Oh, and one more thing. I think it is quite obvious what rampant selling/ giving up/ reselling and the likes can do. The prime example would be several nations giving up their Mars assets and selling them to the Imperium, which resulted in a nasty war and Mars being nuked, as I'm sure we're all remembering.

"As such, we would... Like it if nobody in the Neptune subsystem would just offer military bases, sovereign holdings or the likes to nations not present in the Neptunian subsystem without our consent. In the same way, should a nation present in the Neptunian subsystem decide to give up its holdings, we would simply... Buy the territory back, for the same value it was acquired by the leaving nation, rather than seeing the territory just being given to some other, potentially hostile, nation."

Takashi smiled, a little uncertain, perhaps even nervous. "I know, it is essentially... Infringing on sovereignity, but given past experiences, we consider it to be a rather useful idea to keep the Neptunian subsystem quiet and profitable. And given that we're essentially giving up territory at zero profit, I would consider it to be a fair deal, although you might of course have reservations we might not have thought about, in which case we would of course be intrigued by hearing them to... Accomodate individual interests. Comments? If not, we can continue with the point Ambassador Reynolds raised, with regards to a... Neptunian League of sorts. Hopefully something more effective than what we know from Mars..."

A few levels down

"Beautiful, wasn't it?"

Jason Dawes and Margo Gathon had eventually found a suitable (If somewhat expensive) restaurant, with quite edible menus, if one disregarded the general spicyness of the food that was possibly a little much for foreigners, although it wasn't as excessive as it could possibly be.

As chaotic as the society, as well as the people themselves, including their bodies, were, the basic necessity that is food hadn't developed as excessively. Granted, not every individually grown (Or constructed) body could digest everything, and a few things could be poisonous, but generally speaking, a basic standard was (Usually) followed, and this standard happened to be (Mostly) digestable for baseline humans, too.

Still, the cuisine was varied enough, a general mixture based on what had once been of french, chinese or japanese origin, with the occasional german- or english piece of dry-bread equivalents thrown in, as well as some remnants of what was generally considered 'ethnic' cuisine, essentially 'native' Angstian food, long ago being assimilated and dissected by the foreign influences that had overrun the country centuries ago.

If looking up, the two officers would eventually recognise a woman who had been behind the two in the theatre, apparently in her early twenties (Which essentially meant that she was no older than in her late thirties), smiling down at them. "I definitely enjoyed it. Ah... I suggest menu #17 and #33. Well, perhaps #58... All of them truly brilliant, if a little too varied. They never manage to keep it clear of influences from the other side of the globe, really. So... What did you think of the main characters' representation? I found it a little odd, but nonetheless innovative. Maxim's always one for experiments in his roles..."

Some people just happen to be born as natural annoyances.

Ambassadors Lan and Maradas studied one another, and then nodded. The human rose effortlessly to his feet and bowed low at the Angstians. "On behalf of His Most Divine Illuminated Majesty Tsar Adrik Alexei Daniilevich, I accept your terms. With the request that should an incident..occur," Lan delicately said, "that His Most Divine Illuminated Majesty's chancellery be kept informed."

He then returned to his seat. Maradas also stood up, bowed to the Angstians, and placed his holoprojector back on the table. "With the permission of the Angstians, I would like to inform Pinnacle2 that they may finish the launching procedure for the city." A thought struck him. "Would the other delegates care to watch it be launched? As a symbol for a new future? Ordinarily we would wait a few more days to make sure of the drop location, but the one we currently have our sights on seems reasonably comfortable."

Menta rises swiftly, nodding politely to the Roanian delegate.
"An excellent suggestion, but perhaps...not right now? We do still have things to cover after all."
The elf-woman waits a heartbeat, then continues.
"Among those things is this 'Neptune League', which is an excellent idea."
She ducks a shallow bow at the Angstian representative.
"I feel compelled to back it in the strongest possible terms, and to thank Ser Takashi for both his kind words and his suggestion, His Majesty's government is very much committed to avoiding an other Mars, and the strong ties between a small-enough-to-be-managable group of nations this league would create would be a major help in achieving that goal."
She grins slightly.
"Of course, unlike Mars any nation who didn't feel bound to obey whatever strictures the majority enforced would be invited to take their displeasure up with the ah...appropriate authorities...shall we say?"
Her P.D.A suddenly pops up a rotating hologram of H.M.S Drop Bear, Menta never taking her eyes off the delegates, her smile widening, continues to speak.
"Still, we're open to suggestions if anyone wishes to offer a...palatable...alternative to the Angstian proposal before we continue into the details of the idea?"
Taking her seat, Menta turns and smoothes her constantly falling-forward braids back again, smiling toothily at the Skeelzanian representative.
"Ser Serrat, you would be surprised where threats come from in this system, even the weakest nations seem to suddenly acquire delusions of adequacy and oh, I don't know, declare vendetta on superpowers?"

Once the room had again fallen silent, Ambassador Caitlin stood and addressed Takashi. “The Empire would be honoured to accept either some land on Triton or a small moon, whichever is available and best suited for everyone.” She knew that they could hardly throw their weight around, knowing they would be crushed before they could even launch their space technology. “I am almost grateful for the kind offer from Der Angst, and would be more than willing do discuss with the relevant parties at a later date your offer of assistance.”

She paused for breath. “As to the other matters that have arisen at this meeting, like others, we would prefer not to see Neptune turn into another Mars. This is a good opportunity for all of us in this room to prove that peaceful existence can be achieved and more importantly maintained.”

She retook her seat, smiling. This conference was going better for the Tartarians than she had actually expected. She settled down, and listened to the rest of the meeting as Hannah sat beside her busily typing away, logging information, and quietly composing a report that would be sent to the Empire at the earliest convenience.

After the Tartarian had finished speaking David stood again.

'I find it, strange, if not alarming that Neptune has had such a lack of fleet power and arms and done perfectly well, yet you stand here before us with this lovely little schematic of Drop Bear, surely by placing this insane amount of arms in the sub-system you are provoking others to do the same, we all intend to work co-operatively and peacfully. Surely a more, balanced policing force would be more suitable for defence, rather than relying on one or two nations. There is also the small matter of wishing to keep Neptune tidy, if somebody, sub-system wise, wishes to address a greivence, surely a less violent responce would be approriate? Threatening them with this,' he motioned to the floating schematic, 'would only create or escalate a conflict of either intrests or arms. I do see defending the Neptunian sub-system as important, and keeping the status quo as paramount.'
He then cleared his throat.
'In regards to this, our own "fleet deployment" will consist of two Patrol corvettes and a single frigate, we hope that our 'request' will be allowed.' he then bowed to the delegates and sat back down, sipping a little on a whiskey.

"d'Oko wa..." Mariah stood, sort of, once David was done. Battlefleets. Yes, you'd just love to wave your phallic death balls around, don't you. Humans, honestly. Grow up. Actually, she remained sitting, while the avatar being sent stood up. Just another minor benefit of teleconferencing. "I believe we are straying from the true purpose of this particular conference, which is to agree how the physical resources of the Neptunian subsystem will be divided, not to wave around thinly-velied threats. If the parties here want to work out a defensive or economic pact for the Neptune sphere, we should do so afterwards. That said, Weyr is fully prepared to compensate the Hypocricy for its troubles with Moontian."

Another shrug at the elf. "The Vendetta was declared in the twilight of the Old Regime, then repealed by the short-lived Democracy. Just becasue God has not chosen to reimplement it doesn't mean we think it to be an unwinnable situation; Skeelzania could quite handily decimate the inner system. Rather He would prefer a path of diplomacy, in order to secure this...front, shall we say.

As for Der Angst's terms, I find these acceptable in the eyes of God. As soon as this conference adjourns, I will relay the terms back to Skeelzania Proper and we will set about with our colonization plans. We are quite willing to have our barges de-militarized, but with the Midlonia wish to station a task force in the system, I must ask that we also be allowed three destroyers to act as a deterrant. I don't think this will drastically upset the balance of power in the outer system."

'Three destroyers?' muttered David, 'good greif, we don't even intend for three Frigates, let alone destroyers..' he shook his head and drank some more out of his glass. 'Ridiculous, those Patrol corvettes are not front line combat units, they do what they're meant to do, patrol.' he shook his head like a pendulum and refillled his glass.

'Three destroyers?' muttered David, 'good greif, we don't even intend for three Frigates, let alone destroyers..' he shook his head and drank some more out of his glass. 'Ridiculous, those Patrol corvettes are not front line combat units, they do what they're meant to do, patrol.' he shook his head like a pendulum and refillled his glass.

Serrat turned slowly towards the Midlonian. "You will admit, good sir, that Skeelzania has a distinct disadvantage in securing any outpost in Neptune. These destroyers are not only a deterrant against your forces within the subsystem, but also against any nearby Midlonian battlegroups. In the event of a hostile exchange, you can draw up reinforcements much quicker than we can. Three destroyers might give us a local superiority, but they are still nothing compared to Midlonaian strength in the system as a whole. Furthermore, you will have the support of all your allies within the system, who we can safely assume will side against Skeelzania in the event of conflict."

Bruce glanced over at the Angstian delegate and host, and decided the previously demonstrated trust by said person would let him get away with this. He stood slowly, and with great deliberation spoke loudly and clearly, without shouting.

“That is quite enough.” He glared at the Midlonian and Skeelzanian delegates in turn. “We are here for the purpose of not destabilizing the Neptune Subsystem, while you fools can do nothing more than play a game of brinkmanship over a conference table. The nation of Der Angst will decide on what level of deployment they are comfortable with each of us having, and we should declare it now, immediately and upfront before everyone. If they are uncomfortable with it, they can choose not to provide the land. If Der Angst is comfortable with it, then the matter should be settled. If you don’t like what the Angstians think is appropriate, there is a door.” He pointed at it.

“Furthermore, I’m sure the Angstians can secure the Neptune Subsystem with their own forces should anyone attempt something untoward, until such time as an agreement on how to prevent such things should be reached. The Federation and its forces will cooperate in any way we can. Now, can you, my good Serrat, stop playing like your nation is a threat to the military power of Sol, and my good David, would you please stop playing alarmist where the Skeelzanians are concerned. We know you don’t like each other, but I think for the Angstians to allow you in, you’re going to have to pretend to get along.” Bruce sighed. “Even though you both seem intent on turning this into another Mars, I, like many others, would prefer it did not.”

“Now, as I proposed that we all list our exact military deployments, I’ll start. Should out requests be granted, the Federation would emplace an Alpha Base of Marines and fighter craft, as well as positioning a Colonial Fleet Heavy Task Group in orbit, as is our policy for all colonies. For those of you whose intelligence gathering is not up to the task, that is two dreadnaughts, two battlecruisers, four heavy cruisers, four light cruisers, and eight destroyers. Further, the Fleet Base would serve as a port for Patrol Fleet, which would likely mean at least one Patrol Fleet Task Group in the area at all times, of the same composition, minus the dreadnaughts.” On the table, his little black box whirred another hologram to life, this one displaying a list of nations attending the conference, and the apparent deployment desires of each nation that had expressed them.

“Maybe this will help,” Bruce muttered. Another second and another hologram appeared, displaying everything he had heard about desired claims so far in the form of a picture. He hoped he was not stealing from the Angstians’ thunder. Areas or moons featuring contesting desires appeared to glow. “Perhaps we should try and work these things out, for a moment, before moving on to other business, as the Angstians do seem willing to accede to every reasonable request so far.”

Initiate CommandKey \\:\\:extrncomm\\tightbeam:Poseidon_Station
Return //://:extrncomm\\tightbeam:Poseidon_Station Successful

I realize that you have already largely finished your conference on land distribution on Neptune. I apologise for my tardiness, but I also wager that nobody has a claim that mirrors mine. It is rather... unique.

As I'm sure you're aware, I have conducted numerous experiments with extreme temperatures and pressures. From early Hack experiments with the Earth's core, to my own with the Sun and its "surface".

I would like to construct a small "barge" that will float in the upper atmosphere of Neptune. It will likely be no more than 100 yards square, give or take. From there a specially constructed LiME will conduct experiments with the "surface" of Neptune.

Since the pressure at that level is so great that it will rain diamonds, we would be more than willing to give you a portion (say, 20%) of every load we bring up. They'll likely be useless for jewelry, but I'm sure they will have industrial uses.

If this is acceptable, I will begin plans for our arrival. Should someone at this conference actually have the audacity and ability to reach the core, then we will negotiate land holdings. However, I find this less than likely.

- Elijah

Initiate CommandKey \\:\\:closeroute
Return //://:closeroute Successful

The Conference

"Well, it would be... nice for Roania to wait until some sort of official document regarding this is signed, really... We can make one in a minute, though. I'm sure we have standardised forms. But anyway, perfect."

Turning to the Tartarians, Takashi nodded. "Well, given engineering issues, I would suppose that Triton is the somewhat more appropriate place. I suppose that 1% of its surface area, that would be approximately 229000 square kilometres, would be appropriate for a long-term project?"

Takashi listened on. He had to quietly agree with the Midlonian delegate, the 'Show of force' that was the Drop Bear representation had been a little... Inappropriate, but Midlonia quietly ignoring his request regarding demilitarisation was even more so.

Especially given that Roania had already agreed to the terms.

Bah.

He gave a quick nod towards the Weyrean... Well, hologram, essentially giving his ok, and...

Uttered a snorting laugh.

Decimate the inner system? Well, I knew that they were having delusions of grandeur... Well, ok, there are the likes of the Suncritters, but he's hardly a multicubickilometre plasma blob.

Still, for now he resumed listening to what the others had to say, only occasionally chuckling, a little (And wondering what Rei was thinking about her sociology object).

"Well. Yes, that is pretty much... An accurate description." He nodded at Ambassador Reynolds in agreement. "In essence, I'm somewhat unhappy with Midlonia thinking that they can simply wave away our... Request, although I think that this request has just turned into a definite requirement. Given that the bickering just displayed does more than enough to prove that allowing any kind of non-stationary militarisation between Midlonia and Skeelzania puts the local peace at risk, I'll now reiterate the point a bit more clearly:

"The nations we require demilitarisation from are of course free to keep some self-defence measures, specifically, fixed weapon systems placed on their holdings. Excluded are fighters as well as full scale warships, which means that no interplanetary-capable warcraft whatsoever of the nations in question may enter the Neptunian subsystem until such a time that normalised relations minimise the risk of armed conflict. This isn't a request, this is a requirement, if you wish to possess holdings in the Neptunian subsystem. Is this understood? And, more to the point, accepted?"

Poseidon

Bah. I'm not even a trained diplomat. Oh well, everyone else is busy or high. The woman-in-her-sixties sighed, reading through the transmission from The Caloris Basin and quickly getting clearance from Takashi (Who was busy and didn't really care, his reply being 'Yeah, sure').

From: Poseidon, DA Neptune, Hypocrisy of Der Angst
To: Elijah, The Caloris Basin
Subject: Colony on Neptune's surface

"Intriguing proposal. It certainly raises my interest. Unsurprisingly so, given that my... Extended body is located in Neptune's atmosphere, albeit at less extreme levels than your barge will be.

"Anyway. Given the conditions you're offering, I do certainly not see any problems regarding your offer, neither do my superiors, so your proposal is entirely acceptable. Permission granted.

"I would have one rather personal request, though, for a time when your plans have become real. Specifically, I would like for me (Mindstate or specifically constructed body) to visit the barge one day. I'm sure it will be intriguing."

Sincerely and with outright curiosity,

~ Poseidon (Sandra Mikogami)

Initiate CommandKey \\:\\:extrncomm\\tightbeam:Poseidon_Station
Return //://:extrncomm\\tightbeam:Poseidon_Station Successful

Excellent. I'm pleased that my offer is acceptable. I'll begin work on the specifics on my end. You'll know when we arrive, no worries. In case your superiors are concerned, we will not be bringing a fleet. Just a LiME to head research and some misc. drones for various tasks on the barge. We are scientists, after all.

And speaking of the barge...

The barge itself will be no lower in the atmosphere than any other floating installation, as we'll want to experiment before diving down to the core. However, since a craft will be required to make the trip, you are more than welcome to accompany the Research Administrator on such a journey. I doubt your avatar would survive outside such a craft, but we could probably design a temporary avatar for you to use should you wish to "walk the surface".

- Elijah

Initiate CommandKey \\:\\:closeroute
Return //://:closeroute Successful


---

Work started even as the message was being sent. There was a lot of work to do, after all. A barge to be built, a ship to carry it, a drop ship to reach the surface, and, of course, the LiME itself.

Elijah once again found himself deep in the bowels of the planet, preparing to perform his Frankenstein routine. He chuckled softly as he mixed the exotic metals that would be the new body for the sixth citizen of the Basin. He idly wondered what the new LiME would be like. He never forced their development, he simply fed in their responsibilities and let them form organically -- as it were.

It would certainly be interesting. Mercury was towards the upper end of their tolerances, Neptune would be towards their lower end. He found himself rather thankful for the Hack's tendancy to overengineer.

---

The LiME's mind grew quickly this time, faster than previous LiME's had. Habakkuk was the closest, but even he was a couple days slower. While things were far from ready, indeed the avatar was still "cooking", the AI already had a name for itself. Herself, actually: Esther.

[A Pleasant Chamber

The room is pale wood, green plants and pleasant smells of incense and clean sweat; designed to appear more spacious than it is. It's a tranquil place, sandwiched between the diamondoid bones and surrounded by the light-conductor arteries of a great beast.

The woman wears white, not at the moment flaunting regulations as much as she usually does. Aside from color, her clothes are military khaki; there are no attractive aides about or even some pet from Black Operations. It's a step out of style for Guards Major Jaqueline Servalan, and like all her steps it's a reasoned one.

Slight constriction of gelsuit, chair ready to enclose her in battle mode; trappings of soldiery. They do help her concentrate. Data ripples through the distributed brain of the ship, enfolding organic minds. Patterns emerge.

The longscan net around Neptune, old but functional. Spiders and ferrets in assorted nets.

Messages reach out. An acquaintance's acquaintance in Shiny Metal Inc. Radioactive Substances, Import/Export. A sad tired man's contact in Brandon & Dulles, Steam & Metal.

A queue of internal actions, messages, gambits. Command hierarchies grind on, placing authority in Servalan's hands. One piece to be moved; her physical body.

"Leftenant Taggart. Find us an excuse to be about Neptune, if you please. In a good ship."

She could do it herself, but young Taggart likes to have something to do. He'll find something military and phallic and she'll pretend displeasure that it isn't a palatial transport.

Womb of War Station, Space

Schemes roll on. The Gae Bolga moves across the System, slingshotting the photosphere because she can, to arrive with an ordnance pod full of replacement longscan sats. Shakedown cruise, civilian work. Plans within plans. Check in with Neptune on arrival, express Sphere interest in real estate.

When the ship has just made turnover, the Angstians go public. All that subtle work wasted. Public information!

Inside a Shocked Mind

Perverts.

At least young Taggart is a comfort. Such a resilient boy.

The early starter arrives late, trapped at high velocity, tesseract jumps useless. A clean, gleaming ship requesting approach instructions and a contact for negotiations, on behalf of the Territory Co-Prosperity Sphere.

OOC bit: sorry for the long intervals between replies, I'm quite busy. Short post, but you get the idea.

//From: Sirens of Titan Diplomacy Unit
//To: The Hypocricy of Der Angst, Neptune
//Subject: Clarification

}}Message - communication uplink established.
::Apologies for the lack of communication, but as you can notice in the header of this message, we have came here on behalf of the Sirens of Titan leadership, personally sent forth by the CEO and Czar. We have monitored the situation closely, but we see no objections of not having a base on Neptune - however this is speculative since we do not know your stance. Until we are given clearance to land, we will discuss these matters with you. We are looking forward to seeing you,

Respectfully, Captain and Commander Van Riebeeck::
}}Message - communication uplink terminated.

David's face twitched slightly. The he sighed and looked at his glass.
"Fine, though we do request that a small wing of fighters be employed for anti-pirate measures, we'd like to be able to intercept something, namely pirate vessels before it is in orbit of what we request to be our holdings, probably landing or destroying things. It is an eventuality that I would not like to see.' he sighed again.
'However in the spirit of co-operation and peace we shall accept the requirement of the Angstians.'

"Skeelzania, likewise, also agrees to these terms."

Dawes stared at the woman for a moment, his hand unconsciously drifting towards his holstered weapon for a second before he remembered himself. “I found it somewhat difficult to follow. The colors and affects were amazing though, for a stage show.” He ordered number 35, not quite trusting the odd woman.

Margo, on the other hand, did, somewhat. She did not reach for gun, anyways, and ordered number 58. “I can’t say that the role was particularly innovative in it’s portrayal, but then, I’ve never seen that particular show before. I will agree it was very well done.” Whatever it was.

Both of them tried to answer in tones that indicated they would rather be left alone, but Petty Officer Gathon's actual enjoyment of the just witnessed production definitely leaked through.

* * * * *

Bruce glared at the Midlonian representative. We agree to abide by the request by in the sentence before ask for permission not to abide by it? Do they really think someone will miss that?

“The Neptune Subsystem will be plenty secure against pirates,” he muttered under his breath to the Tartarian woman sitting next to him. “If they’re not careful, the Angstians are going to see how well our friend David here can breath Neptune’s atmosphere.”

Absently moving his legs from the offending tail Baron Kleinburg glares slightly at his Angstian Liason before nodding towards Takashi respectfully. "Of course, forgive my ignorance, we are indeed making a request not a claim. And we also thank you for your kind words onbehalf of the Union.

It seems many wish to place their own military hardware within the sphere of neptune influence, and I cant help but wonder how many of my fellow delegates really do appreciate the political value of Iraqstan herself, but as a show of faith, we will divulge our entire list of space assets that IMC has control of, which is not surprisingly twenty small unmanned exploration drones and three aging destroyers that have seen more time being repaired than they have being used.

That is IMC's personal stock of space assets, the Iraqstani Exploration fleet obviously is much more sizeable but is quite happily outside our zones of control. We will not be placing anything of military strength except our own security forces in what ever places we might be granted in our requests." He says barely loud enough to be heard as the voices of others bicker amongst themselves, the bickering he has pointedly ignored as if it mattered not to the plans of IMC itself.

Caitlin nodded and in a level as loud as that of Bruce, she replied. “Some people like to stamp their foot and get everyone telling them how big and strong they are, when all they can do is hide behind a huge military presence, which unfortunately does just the opposite.” She shook her head sadly. “I know these kind of things need to be covered, but by making it one of the first things that you mention, just puts everyone else on tenterhooks, wondering why they need all this weaponry and fire power.”

Excusing herself for a moment once Baron Kleinburg had finished, Caitlin once more addressed the Der Angstian, Takashi. “I would like to take this quiet moment,” she said, as she flicked her eyes between the Midlonians and the Skeelanians. “To formally accept your grant of land on Triton. The size and location is perfect for our needs. And as previously stated, I will be approaching the appropriate parties in order to begin negotiations on the assistance that you have offered.”

She smiled, and sat back down turning to Bruce. “It’s always good to get the formalities out of the way.” She picked up her glass of water and took a sip.

" As ... This United State ... don't see any problems ... three moons ... a lot ... hope that TUS ... using them "

All that hatchet-job display of the Der Angstian, some-times loose grip with diplomactic phrasing, purchased for Mr Takashi, was a long and affronted moment of solid glare from the 18 members of the This United State delegation ...

Still, their faces were soon reset to the usual facade of polite neutrality. They were confident enough that their " bid " would be validated with little or no trouble, though they didn't actually know why, but then it wasn't quite their place to, any-way.

At least one of the Mr Smith characters was gently waving a small, gold, credit-card analogue ( Though slightly thicker than its " ancestors " shall we call them ) at desk level to catch the eye of Mr Takashi, all the while with the other delegates were still rattling on.

For all which one does focus on hard currency these days one must remember it was a mostly digital currency market in these times, and a small but respectable portion of a national treasury can make tracks across the solar system in nothing more imposing than a specially secured microchip ...

( It was also plug and play ! Sort of ... )

David sighed, he was becoming frustrated, and the glare from the FSP delegate was hardly making him feel better, he turned as the delagate whispered into the ear of the Tartarian, what was her name? Katline? Cate, something anyhow.

'I beleive I can understand the stare, sir. I also understand the irony of our asking for a single wing of fighters when we have just been told, but if you also note on the time stamp, here...' he produced a small tape recorder that was hanging from his belt and rewound it slightly.
"However in the spirit of co-operation and peace we shall accept the requirement of the Angstians."
'What I meant by this was our agreement and my resignation to no interstellar craft or fighters within the Neptunian subsystem.' he smiled, a smile that regardless of wether it was real or not, looked permanently like a shark's maw and looked around at the other delagates reasuringly.

The Caloris Basin

From: Poseidon, DA Neptune, Hypocrisy of Der Angst
To: Elijah, The Caloris Basin
Subject: Colony on Neptune's surface

"Perfect, I would say.

"Hrm. Actually, I was merely thinking of watching from inside such a craft, but if a body sufficient to keep my mindstate save outside the craft is possible... Muchos gracias. I certainly wont forget it."

Sincerely and quite intrigued,

~ Poseidon (Sandra Mikogami)

The Territory

A sensor drone here, a little TEU there... The reconnaissance net around Neptune is surprisingly tight and in the process of being expanded, as the more recent acquisitions require it to be even tighter.

A tiny ORD gets the drone-equivalent of an orgasm, watching the gleaming point of light speeding towards Neptune at impressive, yet slowly decreasing velocity, the TEU sighs, wondering why drones are actually constructed to feel this way.

It doesn't matter. Poseidon is already transmitting the approach vectors and linking the initial communications to Takashi, who refuses to split his mind into even more pieces, and tells Poseidon to take care of the problem.

Even more work to do. Bah.

From: Poseidon, DA Neptune, Hypocrisy of Der Angst
To: The Territory Co-Prosperity Sphere, Gae Bolga, Guards Major Jaqueline Servalan
Subject: Real Estate, Neptune

"Heh, we were already wondering what that flightpath meant. Well, now we know.

"In any case. Well, it's getting full, now... Still, S/2002 N 3 and S/2002 N 4 lack interested parties, for now, and Triton's surface is largely ignored. The same goes for Neptune's atmosphere.

"So, if one or several of those areas interest you, a deal can be done quickly enough. You're welcome."

Sincerely,

~ Poseidon (Sandra Mikogami)

Sirens of Titan

<Poseidon> Well, Pacifist. Looks like they didn't really backtrack the initial comm from you.
<TEU Technically a Pacifist> Frustrating. Damnit. If I were a SEU...
<Poseidon> It's ok. *Snuggles* Now, to go back to this problem of yours...

As busy as Sandra Mikogami (The woman-in-her-sixties) was with, say, running a city built to house four million people (By now, it was actually capable of housing almost twice that, though), she had the necessary resources to stage a bit of (Additional) multitasking. After all, the entire city was at her disposal, with a few thousand processing units available to her. The one she carried in her head... well, it was merely doing a bit of coordination.

As such, replying to the Sirens of Titan craft wasn't a particularly challenging task for her (If one disregarded her lack of diplomatic experience, that is).

From: Poseidon, DA Neptune, Hypocrisy of Der Angst
To: Sirens of Titan Diplomacy Unit
Subject: Clarification

"Well, welcome, then. A bit late, perhaps, but that shouldn't be a problem. Although I'm not quite sure as of just what you intend to do... No objections to not having a base? Certainly not, as it would hardly concern us.

"Anyway, given that the conference already started, I suppose that you wish to enter me, yes? Clearance is, of course, a given, providing that the basic security checks (The mild increase of background radiation you might notice just now) are clear." **

Sincerely,

~ Poseidon (Sandra Mikogami)

The Conference

"Well, perfect, then." Takashi almost smiled at the Midlonian delegate. "The fighters would for now remain excluded... Fighters tend to have the annoying tendency of carrying nukes." Ours do, anyway. "But as mentioned before, once normalised relations occur... Besides, Piracy has never been a problem in the subsystem, and given the general presences in it, I don't think that pirates could become a problem, even if they wanted to.

"If you're especially worried, I believe that some defence contractors in DA are still for hire." A short grin appears on Takashi's face Can't forget business. "Oh, and interplanetary warcraft. We don't expect you to arrive by way of floating from Uranus to Proteus."

Karin chuckled, being quite satisfied with the reactions of Baron Kleinburg. This was, indeed, very amusing. I love my job.

Otherwise, no problems. In fact, Iraqstan 'suffered' a decided lack of problems, much to Takashi's pleasure.

He nodded at Caitlin. "Perfect. So, now that this is covered..." He glared at the TUS delegation. Creepy. Still, the TUS interests had been secured (With a little pressure from Mars resulting in somewhat odd under the table agreements).

"In any case. So... If this is covered... With the exception of Proteus and possibly Larissa?" A short glare in the general direction of the Britmattian & FSP delegates followed. "But I guess that those are secondary... We can prepare the contracts, then. Once SMD 11/51 finishes printing them, that is. In a few minutes." *

oocness: * Too worn out to write the things up just now, as noticeable by the general poorness of this post. Those and the bit about $Annoying_Female follow tomorrow.

** I suppose they are, so just come in.

The Gae Bolga comes roaring in in the least subtle manner imaginable. Not only does it run radar transponders, it also points all its heat dumps in the general direction of Neptune. Not only that, but the ship calls in to the old longscan net that is its flimsy excuse for being here. It's not like some slow tub of an autonomous freighter couldn't do the job.

Efficiently and securely, data packets return to Poseidon; a triple xor with the strands following radically different paths.

"Delighted to make your acquaintance, M Mikogami. You are of course correct, were it not for current events I might not be here and the longscan net wouldn't be serviced by this ship.
My purpose in coming is indeed to make such an agreement for land, atmospheric mining rights and the right to set up certain space facilities, and furthermore to offer certain services in order to help stabilize the Neptune system. Perhaps we could work with some of the more stabled Involved.
In any case, Triton would seem to offer the best opportunities for the creation of a port, and later a colony.
Looking forward to meeting you, I remain,
Guards Major Jacqueline Servalan"

The gleaming black spindle-shape makes Neptune approach, detaching a shuttle and a large drone. The drone begins to busy itself with the management of assorted space traffic control sats left in place since an abortive colonization effort by extra-Solars long ago, and the shuttle makes a brutally precise aerobrake maneuver to approach and landing.

The Territory

The Subtle Surgery 'looks' at the Gae Bolga, curiously, attracted to the sheer amount of radiation coming from it. Unfortunately, duty calls, and it continues its slow course around Neptune, following a polar orbit lacking anything remotely resembling thrill or fulfillment.

Well, perhaps she will poke the Territorials later, when she has time.

Poseidon just chuckles softly at her little sister's (Or rather, daughters, but those terms are somewhat superficial to begin with) reaction while replying, already sending the appropriate liaison down to port #4.

From: Poseidon, DA Neptune, Hypocrisy of Der Angst
To: The Territory Co-Prosperity Sphere, Gae Bolga, Guards Major Jaqueline Servalan
Subject: Real Estate, Neptune

"The usual, then. Hrm. I notice that DA is quickly becoming the Territories' major real estate source. Not that there's anything wrong with it.

"Given the, ah, complex nature of my future neighbors, I can't help but to agree. Certain stable elements would certainly help the situation. Frankly, I'm surprised that the council is putting up with this chaos instead of carving Neptune up between friendly nations. Well, might have something to do with market expansion or something.

"As far as your interests go, I'm certain that it will work out... Ah, yes, it will. The necessary documents are almost finished, I believe.

"Well then, welcome to Neptune."

Sincerely,

~ Poseidon (Sandra Mikogami)

In port #4, Major Servalan is received in pretty much the same way the other delegates have been received, with a little difference: Given the proverbial attraction Territorials have for guns, Poseidon decided that it would be more appropriate to wait for the Major in an infinitesimally more martial way than usual.

Which is to say, several hundred kilograms worth of armour, miniaturised fission/ fusion reactors, and phallic weaponry in dim black standing on four fat-looking limbs supporting a surprisingly slim frame.

The hGCD bows slightly, its mindstate just having been transferred into the local hardware, still trying to get used to the somewhat complex construction it is now located in, and looks down at the Territorial female, eventually deciding that it should bow a little deeper to get on eye-level.

"I'm GCD 6/09, honoured to meet you. Welcome on Poseidon, Guards Major."

The Conference

Left... right, right... right... No, wait. Left. Left... Whoops, missed it. Back. Ah, there.

SMD 11/51 floated through the opening door to the conference room, keeping a stack of papers elevated in front of it. Sure, more shiny ways to keep records of the whole thing were available, too, but Poseidon was taking care of those, anyway. And paper was still considered the most appropriate medium for this particular kind of thing.

"Well, here I am... Ah, yes." It deployed the stack of papers strategically in the middle of the table, while its casing was floating on top of it, mildly inappropriate so, but it would do.

"Well, what do we have here..."

Transfer of Territorial Ownership, Neptune
Transferring Party: The Hypocrisy of Der Angst
Receiving Parties: This United State, Tartarus, Iraqstan, Skeelzania, Roania, The Caloris Basin, Weyr
Receiving Parties (Pending confirmation from mutually involved parties): Tiburon, Sentient Peoples, Britmattia, Midlonia

1. Conditions (Overall): The receiving entities may not transfer ownership of parts or the entirety of their holdings to a third entity, nor allow the establishment of military bases of a third entity, without the Hypocrisy of Der Angst agreeing to such a transfer of ownership/ establishment of a military outpost by a third entity.

In the case of the transfer of ownership (Sellout) of holdings being intended without the Hypocrisy agreeing to the third entity in question, the Hypocrisy guarantees to retake the holdings in question in exchange for a sum of money with a value equivalent to the value at which the territory was originally sold by the Hypocrisy of Der Angst. In the case of the Hypocrisy of Der Angst disagreeing with the establishment of a military base of a thrid party, the Hypocrisy of Der Angst will work to guarantee all defensive needs of the entity in question (As defined by DA defence standards), free of charge.

2. Conditions (Specific): Skeelzania's, Roania's and Midlonia's defensive means will be restricted to fixed weapon emplacements on their holdings. No Interplanetary-Capable warships may enter the Neptunian sphere (As defined by the average radius of Neptune's outermost moon's orbit times two, 97 million kilometres from Neptune's core) until such a time that all three involved parties have normalised relations (Exchange of ambassies) and mutually agree that neither side is worried about possible aggressive tendencies from the other (two) side(s). Once the latter is recognised by the Hypocrisy of Der Angst, full militarisation will become an option for all three involved parties.

For the time being, the Hypocrisy of Der Angst will work to guarantee all defensive needs of the entities in question (As defined by DA defence standards), free of charge, should aforementioned entities request such a move.

3. Transferred Territories: The Hypocrisy of Dr Angst transfers ownership of the following territories/ Grants the right for the placement of orbital constructions in the Neptune subsystem to the following entities:

The ownership of the moons Thalassa, Despina and Galatea is transferred to This United State for $Sum_Of_Money

The ownership of 1% of Triton's surface area at X/Y coordinates is transferred to Tartarus for $Sum_Of_Money

The ownership of Nereid and S/2003 N 1 is transferred to Iraqstan for $Sum_Of_Money

The Ownership of Larissa is transferred to Britmattia/ Sentient Peoples, pending a bilateral agreement between the two entities in question, to decide which entity receives what, for $Sum_Of_Money

The ownership of Proteus is transferred to Tiburon/ Midlonia, pending a bilateral agreement between the two entities in question, to decide which entity receives what, for $Sum_Of_Money

The ownership of Naiad is transferred to Tiburon, pending confirmation by Tiburon, for $Sum_Of_Money

The Ownership of 0.01% of Neptune's surface area (Measured from the upper limit of Neptune's atmosphere) at X/Y coordinates is transferred to The Caloris Basin, in exchange for 20% of Caloris' annual natural diamond mining in Neptune.

The Ownership of 0.01% of Neptune's surface area at X/Y coordinates is transferred to Roania, additionally, Roania may keep Pinnacle2 in orbit around Neptune, in exchange for $Sum_Of_Money

The Ownership of 0.01% of Neptune's surface area at X/Y coordinates is transferred to Weyr, in exchange of $Sum_Of_Money

The Ownership of 0.01% of Neptune's surface area at X/Y coordinates is transferred to Skeelzania, in exchange for $Sum_Of_Money

4. The Hypocrisy of Der Angst reserves the right to add signatories to this document, as further transfers of ownership are made. Any amendments to the document that change the legal status of signatories require renegotiations and mutual consent.

Signed:

The documents were handed out, SMD 11/51's EEMF's quickly distributing the papers (While Poseidon recorded essentially the entire conference).

"Well, that would be it, as far as the simple transfer of ownership is concerned, including limitations. Anything not included in the conditions is, of course, entirely within your rights. Oh, and..." It glared at the hologram from the Unnecessary Cleavage. "I'm sure Poseidon can link your datastream so you have access to the local EEMF emitters, so signing shouldn't be a problem."

Caloris would, of course, be able to sign upon arrival.

[oocness: I might have missed something. If yes, poke me. Oh, and the treaty is standardised for latecomers to be added on sight (They will pay somewhat more money, though). $Sum_Of_Money is essentially what DA neptune paid to the Moontians, times two, distributed according to value (Moons cost more than the planet). Given the initial billion USD equivalent, low triple digit millions are the upper limit for people to pay. Essentially, pocket money nobody needs to care about. X/Y coordinates refer to $Wherever_You_RP_Your_Territory_Being, be it at the poles or the equator. For the record, my territories in Neptune/ on Triton are equatorial. Oh, and I assume that a 'What is below it belongs to the owner of the surface area' legalese stuff like it exists (Existed?) IRL is in place for local DA laws, so the mining is taking care of by the surface ownership transfer.]

A few levels down

"Indeed. Although I was out of my little pills. I think they made it so that you would catch the undertones only when you're high... or down, although the effects would be quite different, then. To the audience, I mean. Oh, and that is... Nevermind." Poor choice.

Actually, not that poor a choice. Granted, #35 wasn't exactly looking impressive (Disregarding its sheer size. As the average Angstian required loads of energy to keep his or her augmented systems running, micronised fission/ fusion reactors were one choice. The other was to simply consume ludicrous amounts of food), but it tasted surprisingly normal, and it wasn't poisonous, either.

Of course, how normal taste fit with the general less-than-normal environment around was another question.

The woman looked at Margo, seemingly pleased, and eventually sat down on the officer's table, idly ordering #17, an odd mixture of squid, rice, a seriously huge amount of meat of undefined origin, an equally huge amount of vegetables, more spices than the average cook knew about, a few mind-altering substances, and a fried snail on top of it.

Compared to this, Margo's menu, mainly a variety of fishes with white noodles and only slightly less spices (And almost no mind-altering substances) was almost unimpressive, although it was probably better suited for the non-native palate.

Ignoring the 'subtle undertones' the two officers used in the conversation to eventually get rid of her, and generally displaying the average less-than-pleasant attitude of the average Angstian everybody loved to get rid off, the woman went on. "Oh, and by the way, I'm Anita. Hrm. Well, perhaps you've had some experiences closer to the way Maxim portrayed the role... We're a little limited, here, at the edge of the system. Well, seriously limited. Now I wonder. What did it remind you of, when you say it wasn't particularly innovative? Perhaps I'm going to enjoy it, too."

Anita stopped for a second, as a non-sentient (And not excessively expensive, as the drone was equipped with limbs, walking, rather than floating about) drone came over, eventually serving the three meals. One could say whatever one wanted: Non-sentience had its advantages when it came to paying for services: Nobody needed to be tipped.

//From: Sirens of Titan Diplomacy Unit
//To: The Hypocricy of Der Angst, Neptune
//Subject: Reponse to Der Angstian Communication

}}Message - communication uplink established.
::We thank you for your invitation, and our apologies for being too late. We have had some problems with our horrid bureaucratic system, but now everything's solved. If a base isn't optional anymore because of the other nations also interested in obtaining land on Neptune, we are satisfied with a permanent space station in orbit with guaranteed connections to the planet surface.

If the possibilities of a base are still open, we would like to purchase a small piece of land of your choice. Location does not matter to us, or the kind of trade we carry out. We remind you, our intentions are peaceful, we seek no quarrel with other nations. Our business is based on mineral alteration, creation of highly advanced nanomachines, the study of alien species and to other high-tech diciplines. Why we have chosen Neptune is pure coincidence, Neptune was the first oppertunity we got - and we took it. Anyway, thank you for your attention and your efforts to make this profitable and joyful for both of us::

Respectfully, Captain and Commander Van Riebeeck::
}}Message - communication uplink terminated.

As soon as the relevant document/s, was/were, placed before the delegation from This United State, the Mr Smith holding the small, gold, credit-card analogue ... thing, was then seen to hold something over, and close to, the document/s. Mere moments later, an accurate replication of the signature of T.R. Kom himself was " burned " into the surface/s at the required place/s marked. The something was then secure again, hidden back in what-ever pocket it'd come from.

The document/s, along with the small, gold, credit-card analogue ... thing, made a path directly back to Mr Takashi, for him to check over himself, and make sure a cool 300 million units of the currency of the day was " cashed " in the correct name ...

Granted, " cool " in a poor mans eyes. The token gesture of it was really worth more, in this case ...

In return, the resultant Proof of Purchase document/s ( and more ) were fast to be recovered, and quickly dispensed into an anonymous, Smith-held attache-case.

Elsewhere

The 3 D.D. men were back in position outside the suites yet again, not a single crew-cut hair out of place, and naturally enough, fully-clothed. Though, a decent enough pheromone detector wouldn't be too hard pressed to detect the ... after effects, what have you.

As for the room Hilda was last ... heard in ( By chance which, the walls had been thick enough to save the sanity and mood of the 3 Defense Directorate stooges ) it would be a case of " just of point and watch alarm go off " ...

Mind you, Hilda was also spick-and-span again, and the " consumer marketing research trip " and what ever else would be written into the liberal enough expense logs by all the other T.U.S. members, was complete, with each member of which even then heading back towards the suites, each packing at least one shopping bag full of goodies to take home ...

Back in the suite with Hilda was a re-packaged, well, package, with a little note attached, for DD 01/09.

So sad you couldn't make it dear, maybe next time ?

P.S. Sorry about your present dear, but it seems to have broken near as soon as I started playing with it ! Maybe you and I could work with some T.U.S. Material Lab and devise a better model with some ... quality research time together?

Call me,

HildaThough, by now Hilda was pretty sure he wouldn't call her. The poor little fellow might've been a closet case. Who could resist her ... curves, after-all ?

Of course, if DD 01/09 would be brave enough to later open the box the note was then attached to, well ...

Never you mind ...

Some things just aren't meant to be known by man or machine ...

Servalan, dressed in not quite regulation pure-white khakis, flexes as she steps off the shuttle's assault ramp. Getting the feel of the ground, checking corners, looking genetic-human-female frail beside the stocky lieutenant on her right and the chitin-faced Commando on her right.

"Thank you, M GCD 6/09," she replies with a somewhat shallower bow, pronouncing it 'm gee-cee-dee six-slash-o-nine' with no hurry. Pleasant voice, eyes briefly locking on the drone in greeting before flicking on, slightly ridiculous smile as a wide grin is moderated by a cultural imperative of not showing teeth. "This is Lieutenant Taggart, and Corporal Jove's Bloody Wound. If you might take us to where we need to be?"

This time the message to Sandra Mikogami goes straight from Servalan's head into station nets, after a flurry of security negotiation. And there is a lot more data - basically, augmented reality cues for a handwritten note and visualizations indicating needs and preferences.

There certainly is not, M Mikogami; so far, it appears that the practice has been mutually satisfactory. I can see no reason not to continue.

The complexity of the situation may actually be for the best, in providing a competetive environment. In any case, we will have to live with this environment, and I believe that it can be moderated in a satisfactory manner.

Our interests are not enormous. An area on Triton's equator, somewhat smaller than 200,000 square kilometers; there is some preference for a few of the alternatives. Atmosphere mining rights, and as long as most of Neptune remains unclaimed no claim is necessary. Some orbital facilities, but that is a traffic-control problem.

I believe that Neptune will prove an environment where the cost of acquiring these assets will rapidly be recovered.

Looking forward to meeting you, I remain,
Guards Major Jaqueline Servalan

Serrat reached out and grabbed one of the copies, conjuring up the image of a snake latching onto its prey. Quickly skimming over the legal mish-mash and sections relating to other signatories, he focused in on the 2nd condition and the sub-section relating to Skeelzanian claims. After a few moments of silence, the Count grunted. "This is satisfactory. I will relay this treaty to Skeelzania, where I am sure it will meet with swift approval. I expect our payment, in the form of gold bullion, will arrive in the next month or so. As for our barges, well, certainly not this year, perhaps the next."

Pushing back his chair, Serrat stood, folded the treaty, and placed it in his breast pocket. "Gentlemen, and ladies, if you would excuse me I must return to my ship. I would like to thank our hosts for their hospitality and willingness to host this event. Good day." Turning on his heel, the Skeelzanian marched out of the room. A few minutes later he had returned to his quarters and started packing.

With their leader impatient to board the Creon, they finished their packing with remarkable speed and piled onto the shuttle. With a rather brusque farewell they blasted away from the station, docking with the battleship a few hours later.

Taking the document handed to him Baron Kleinburg reads swiftly over it, focusing mainly on the parts concerning IRaqstan and nods contently. "Excellent." He whispers to himself as he produces a gold plated pen and signs his name at the bottom of the agreement, and smiles at his Angstian liason.

"I'm sure the Hypocrisy would be most eager to transfer the funds from our holding account to their own, so perhaps when it's conveniant we can organise the transfer." He says whilst sliding the document away from him and settling back in his chair, a glass of alcohol in his hand.

"The Iraqstani Mining Corporation and the Glorious Reich appreciate the kindness of the Hypocrisy in granting us our requests. We are once more indebt to our honourable partners in Der Angst." He says loudly enough for everyone to hear before offeringh is glass in salute to the Angstians present and drinks deeply from it.

Maradas and Lan sat quietly in their seats, as if bored with the whole matter and desiring nothing more than to have done with this convention. The elf was looking at the Skeelzanian, his eyes filled with hatred and scorn. But he said nothing, content to allow the Midlonians and Brittmattians to threaten and cajole the man for him. Alys isn't going to like this... was all he thought. Of course, his greed as a guild officer outweighed any sense of Elfy solidarity, and the idea of not trading with the Skeeks, if they had anything worth trading for, never occurred to him.

Lan, on the other hand, had long decided that he wanted to leave the Neptune system, filled as it was with an army of lunatics. Amusing himelf with pleasant daydreams of poison gas wafting over trenches filled with aliens, if anyone was speaking to him he would be quite content to just let someone else answer for him.

Maradas was now paying rather closer attention to his watch than to anything around him. Lady Alysandra will arrive at the Pinnacle2 in half-an-hour, and after that the optimal launch window for the chosen location lasts for about 2 hours. This shouldn't last that long... then he blinked. He was being asked to sign something. With a weary sigh, he examined the document before him. "Lan? You're going to write up a contract transferring ownership to the Guild after we sign this."

"Understood, yes, yes." The two ambassadors signed together.

The two Skeelzanian warships, sulking in space since the conference began, suddenly lit up. As the Ridder slowly began to turn away from Neptune, and towards deep space, the Creon flashed a series of messages to Poseidon.


SKZ-Creon to Der Angst Installation "Poseidon";

Treaty ratified by Ziad and approved by Skeelz-kaiser. Imperial barge construction reported under way, ETA is 24 standard months.

We will be leaving a relay satellite in this system; it will take up orbit around the planet Neptune over the next few days. Any and all messages to the Skeelzanian Sternreich should be beamed to this satellite, from there they will reach our ears. Hope to establish full diplomatic relations in the near future.

The Creon's captain gave a sigh of relief as Serrat mounted the bridge. "Glad that's over. Bloody tedious work, sitting out here with a bunch of fremden and Keeblers in shooting distance. Hope you nabbed us a good deal, Count."

Handing the captain his copy of the treaty, Serrat pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one up. "Probably the best we could hope for. I'm sure your bosses won't be too happy, seeing that we're not allowed to station and warships out here. Maybe they'll give you administration over the barges."

"Bugger that. The Navy isn't going to play nanny to a bunch of Myrms and whatever poor bastards they assign to them."

"As I recall, the Navy does an awful lot of 'playing nanny' with my creations. This ship has several dozen as I recall."

"Fuck your creations, Count. Most like you FS boys will get the job of running the barges. I'll stick to frontier patrols if you don't mind; the enemy out there are easier to kill. Man would go mad out here."

Serrat chose to remain silent, puffing steadily away as the Creon began its hyperjump back to Solomon.

David's messanger bleeped in his pocket, he grabbed it from his pocket pressed a button and saw the face of the ship captain.
'Yes? What is it?'
'Auspex is confirming two warships just decloaking in the neptunian subsystem, both are of a Skeelzanian built pattern.'
David's face froze, he then looked up, the conversation could be heard by most if not all of the deleagtes.
'Breaking the treaty before the ink is even dry, what treachery!' he hissed.
'Report this back to fleet command after all of this, make sure that those two are logged ontop of whatever else has been logged against Skeelzania.' he spoke quietly and rapidly, then turned back to the delegates as a whole.

'I see that on this treaty our claim for Proteus is still pending, we must have forgotten to send the memo that stated that we are both claiming this moon as ground for the Concordat of Hermes. An alliance, where all of us technically rule the moon. Thus a definition of borders is pointless.'

Caitlin let out another audible sigh, which she was sure that Bruce could possibly hear over the noise of the other delegates. She shook her head, wondering just what the Empire was getting itself into. Most of those around the table seemed to be here for the good of their own nations, but there were a few she felt were too busy trying to show off their prowess. She suddenly had the image of two wild animals prancing around and attacking each other to prove which one was the most dominant male. No wonder Gehenna had sent women along.

“This vying for power is really going to escalate into something bad.” She turned to Bruce, her brow creased in a frown. “Why do these people feel the need to wave around their military might? This is a peaceful conference, which has been handled very well by the Angstians, who I might say, have generously agreed to everyone’s request. It would be nice for these flyboys to calm down and stop all this infernal bickering.”

Sirens of Titan

From: Poseidon, DA Neptune, Hypocrisy of Der Angst
To: Sirens of Titan Diplomacy Unit
Subject: Another Response

"Bureaucracy has to be the same everywhere, then, heh.

"In any case, to the best of my knowledge, space for bases is still available. It's limited, but better than nothing.

"I am, of course, not on top of the legislative chain, but nonetheless. For your interests, I would suppose that a piece of Triton is most appropriate. A standard of 1% of its surface area, equatorial, would be... Satisfactory? If yes, welcome aboard, the signing procedure shouldn't take longer than a few minutes.

"Of course, alternatively, I could arrange for a diplomat to visit yur vessel so the necessary business can be done on your ship, if you deem this to be more appropriate."

Sincerely,

~ Poseidon (Sandra Mikogami)

The woman-in-her-sixties chuckled a little. For some reason, her latest visitors seemed to be a little... Scared? of entering her. The idea was certainly interesting, though... She liked to think of herself as being slightly scary.

This United State

As all was said and done, there wasn't much more than a few polite gestures and 'Good luck' comments between the Angstians and the TUS delegation.

Except of course with regards to DD 01/09 and its 'acquaintance'.

Witch. was the first thing that came to mind, the second was How the hell did she break it?

Well, apparently, TUS people were really tight... Or so well trained that their relevant muscles crashed even this...

But then, it had been a mere toy, a battery-powered plushy for children, and it had never actually been intended for this kind of (ab)use.

Perhaps being moist breaks it. Hrm.

The Territory

The hGCD nods (As far as a machine created to kill rather than to be pleasant company can nod, anyway. The results are slightly amusing), and, wasting perhaps a tenth of a second in looking a little more closely at the Tigran (Being a GCD usually results in the mind in question having quite a bit of interest in the various militaries around, and 6/09 is no exception. Logically enough, the somewhat odd formations throughout sol, the Tigrans being among the first, attract a lot of interest. Seeing one of Io's inhabitants is, thus, quite intriguing for the GCD, and the thought of messing around a bit with it crossed its mind. Not for long, though. It has a job to do), turns around, the metal and ceramics clinging a little, the sounds only occasionally damped by plastic- and the occasional, rare biological parts.

"Please follow me, then."

While the group slowly walks in the general direction of the conference room, the drone talks only a little. Like most GCDs, it's shy when it comes to simple social interaction. Of course, it's also curious, so it doesn't stay entirely silent all the time. One question in particular raises its interest. "I wonder... We've heard a few rumours, but... What exactly happened to the force we had stationed on Io?"

6/09 is half certain that Corporal Jove's Bloody Wound has eaten a few of them, but, well, it doesn't hurt to ask.

And in time, they eventually arrive in the midth of the slowly shrinking group of people that were present during the initial talks.

From: Poseidon, DA Neptune, Hypocrisy of Der Angst
To: Guards Major Jaqueline Servalan
Subject: Real Estate, Neptune

"Indeed.

"Well, we are of course used to competitive environments, given given the recent past, I tend to be a little less enthusiastic about it than I was in the time before the cataclysm. But we will see. I certainly wont mind a 'Best Case' scenario.

"Well, 1% would be about 229000km^2, this would be satisfactory, then. Equatorial is no problem, we could actually make the Sphere our neighbor, if you wish.

"The rest, equally simple. Given our close relations, I suppose that the fees will be nominal at worst. Given all this, I suppose that your visit will be of a mainly cosmetic value, as signing a piece of paper will hardly take weeks.

"On the plus side, that's efficiency."

Sincerely,

~ Poseidon (Sandra Mikogami)

Skeelzania

A few drones and diplomats can't help but to giggle as Serrat eventually leaves. Be it his somewhat odd movements or Skeelzania apparently using gold as a currency (More than one person wondered if the Skeelzanians were trapped a few centuries in the past, and nobody could explain how their economy was supposed to work), but, well, overall speaking, they were still a rather positive surprise, given the things some of the more pessimistic diplomats had expected from them.

And with the deal done, there really wasn't much more one could do.

Iraqstan

Karin nods, quickly, for once keeping her tail to herself. "Certainly."

Takashi smiled as well, once Kleinburg finished. Granted, he wasn't quite certain if this was a good thing, after all, Iraqstan stood pretty much alone in the world, but nonetheless, he, like most others (Disregarding the drones) raised their drinks in return. "It's a pleasure to cooperate with the Glorious Reich, for our mutual benefit."

He even managed to say it almost without irony.

Roania

Again, with the deal done, things were essentially perfect, and there was not much more to be done (Except perhaps trying out some of the more intoxicating substances available on Poseidon).

Well, at least both sides were mutually satisfied, which was an admirable, and definitely appropriate result.

Skeelzania #2

From: Poseidon, DA Neptune, Hypocrisy of Der Angst
To: SKZ-Creon
Subject: Stuff

"Perfect. I'll keep it in mind. Fully formalised relations will certainly be useful, too.

"Otherwise, well, have a nice trip back home."

Sincerely,

~ Poseidon (Sandra Mikogami)

Midlonia

Interesting enough. Poseidon started taking notes as she listened to the chatter in the conference room and the hallway in front of it.

Of course, the Skeelzanian ships had never been cloaked. They had, in fact, been quite noticeable, with two DA ships staying rather close (500000km) nearby. What this said about the Concordat sensors was obvious enough.

Crap. They need development aid. Really.

Neither had the contract been violated, given that the warships had merely been used to bring the delegates to the Neptunian subsystem, before the contract had been signed.

Just like a certain Midlonian frigate, heh.

Meanwhile, Takashi nodded at the Midlonian. "Well, I'm sure we will have confirmation from your partners soon enough. It should work out perfectly well."

The part where he wondered about Concordat coordination and the chaos it seemed to spawn was left unsaid. Nonetheless, once again, it was interesting to know about it.

"Of course, Midlonia and Tiburon. ZMI would hardly be... Appropriate, pending possible renegotiations between them and us."

Overall, Midlonia had been a surprise, the opposite of the Skeelzanians. Where the Skeelzanians had been surprisingly diplomatic and even friendly (At least publicly), the Midlonians had been surprisingly... Complicated, actually slowing down the (Still fairly fast) process the conference had been supposed to control.

And again, this would be kept in mind.

Gehenna Tartarus

Isabelle said nothing as she listened to the exhchange between Bruce and Caitlin. Still, she couldn't help but to agree.

But then, some 'diplomats' tended to confuse multilateral conferences with ancient mating rituals where the males had to impress the females by way of ripping each other apart with their claws and teeth. One got used to it, eventually.

Unfortunately, nowadays, claws and teeth tended to be warcraft capable of burning down continents, which made this kind of mating ritual a somewhat costly alternative.

Conference

Freezing an image of the document in his mind, Bruce relaxed, and hoped that the Angstians would not be upset by the directional high frequency broadcast that cascaded out of his skull and skittered back to the waiting shuttle. It was, fortunately, short range, and just barely could hit the shuttle through all the metal. Military grade communications implants were not designed for this sort of thing, really, but they could make do.

Sitting quietly while the Tartarian responded to him, he smiled pleasantly, knowing that TacNet was forwarding the document straight to the Imperial President’s desk. He grinned as she turned back to him. “Out of the way? The formalities are the fun part.” His light voice and flashing eyes revealed the joke in his mind. “But yes, the guns tend to come out at diplomatic things like this, especially out here beyond the Earth’s hydrosphere. Sometimes things get a bit rougher than they do on Earth. War is, after all, merely a continuation of diplomacy by non-diplomatic means.” He grinned more broadly as his misquotation, then his eyes widened slightly as a message came back in his head.

You didn’t need to ask for permission. I’d’ve just fired you later if I didn’t like it.

~D’ron

The informal tone of the signature gave away to Bruce the fact that his boss’ boss was joking, and he hid a sigh of relief he did not need. Bruce signed the document with his a special golden pin produced from the pocket of his shirt, though it signed in black, slightly metallic ink, before turning it over to the odd little drone puttering about the room. Whatever money the Angstians sent a request for would be automatically transferred from the funds he had set aside earlier in the day.

Down Below

Both military people felt the subtle warning in their heads after the first few bites as anti-toxins kicked in, neutralizing the drugs in their stomachs before absorption. Fortunately, their enhancements also required fuel like the Angstian ones, and so, the huge meals were not so huge as they began to consume them. Dawes continued watching the woman silently, and his eyebrows shot up as she sat down with them. Switching his fork to his left hand, he let his right remain under the table, in theory in his lap.

And it was, sort of. Just moreso on his right thigh, inches from his weapon. He did not like the woman, and he had learned more than once to trust his instincts. While he doubted there would be actual trouble, many times it could be ended without violence if one side was fast enough to pull a weapon. He was pretty sure it would not come to that.

Gathon’s face became slightly flushed as the woman sat down, though part of that was an effect of the rapidly spiraling upward chemical levels in her bloodstream, but most of it was at the astonishing rudeness of the woman for being seated without being invited to do so. Other than the slight color change, she managed to reveal nothing, though. People who could not control themselves did not make Eagle shuttle crews, after all. But as she reviewed the woman’s conversation, she quickly reached the conclusion she was either not paying complete attention or was naturally stupid.

“I didn’t say that it wasn’t innovative, only that I couldn’t say. I’ve never seen anyone else play the role, so I have nothing to judge by. He can’t be innovative if he’s my standard, now can he?” The tone was definitely rhetorical, and invited the woman not to respond, though Margo had a feeling she would anyways. Both petty officers sped up eating, though.

Bridge, S.P.S. Lest Darkness Fall, Fearless-class Heavy Cruiser, Fifteenth Patrol Fleet Battle Group, Eighth Patrol Fleet Task Group, Very High Orbit, Neptune

“Lieutenant?”

“Yes, Petty Officer?” The tactical officer, who had the watch at the moment, turned toward the station normally his and the young woman sitting there.

“Watch the Skeelies on the main plot, sir. They just dropped that weird EM field they were generating that was making it slightly harder to maintain passive weapons lock.” It was not as if something the size of a cruiser had an insignificant mass shadow, even when ‘cloaked’. Admittedly, maintaining a weapons lock by the navigation radar was proving a little more difficult than normal, but combined with gravitic input, surprisingly simple.

“Odd.” The officer of the watch continued to study the plot, then smiled as they turned away. “Looks like they’re leaving. Maybe that means we can stop playing babysitters out here soon. That would be nice. I much prefer hunting pirates to orbiting a ball of nearly frozen blue gases.”

“If the Lieutenant will permit me, sir, I believe I’ll agree with him.”

The young man grinned. “Of course, Duncan.”

As the conference came to a close, Caitlin turned to Bruce with a smile and shook his hand. “It was a pleasure meeting you.” She then let her eyes wander around the rapidly emptying room before her attention turned to Isabelle. “When will formal talks begin concerning the possible Neptune League or other important items that might need to be discussed?”

Beside her as she spoke, Hannah was busily taping away at her palmtop, checking details that had been agreed previous to their leaving Earth. The terms that they had been offered by the Der Angstians were well within the realms of acceptability. She turned to Caitlin. “Ambassador, it is perfectly acceptable for you to sign.”

Caitlin, who had known what the limits to the deal had to be, nodded briefly. And once she had been answered by Isabelle, she took her pen, and scrawled her signature at the bottom of the document.

Captain van Riebeeck was indeed scared, but not of Der Angst's diplomacy drones, no. The Corporation was the thing that scared him. All these humans could be the potential target. Good grief, why did they want to do it here? A horror was stirred within Van Riebeeck's head when he thought about it, and it made him cold. He ordered his navigation officer to set course for a stable orbit around Neptune, give 'em a call to let someone come to us, despite what they think about us. Sign everything, shake hands and if possible, kick that old bint from our ship with a fruitbasket. I don't want to stay a single moment longer than necessary with those people. I hate looking someone or something in the eyes when it will die, most likely because of us.

Once the base on Triton is established, I don't care what the Czar or CEO orders me, I'm out of there and on my way to Christmas Island on earth. Nobody from our homeplanet will look for us there, and the ones who don't want to stay will be silenced. For good, I am afraid. I cannot allow loose lips among my men. With shaking hands he walked to a cold storage unit - the only one on the entire ship, activated it with his finger prints and entered the access codes.

A few minutes later a normal "human" being steps out. Although he's naked, he did not care about that or about Van Riebeeck looking at his, shaking and with his hands held up like some sort of slavish figure.
'He... here are your clothes. They're from the diplomatic department...' The shaky voice of Van Riebeeck said.
'Go and see Der Angstian women...' The poor man was so frightened he could barely form a sentence. He whispered words between things he said to the man. His right hand kept on going to his holster, he balled his fist and looked up again.
'I will.' The man said, put his clothes on and walked to the conference room. Van Riebeeck almost fainted, but he could reach a bottle of "Junior's Gin" just in time. While he was intoxicating himself, a message was sent to Der Angst by the communication officer:

//From: Sirens of Titan Diplomacy Unit
//To: The Hypocricy of Der Angst, Neptune
//Subject: Reponse to Der Angstian Communication

}}Message - communication uplink established.
::It will be fine if you come and visit us on our spaceship. You can taste some of our culture, our products like the finest wine we produce in the universe. We will toast to the future, and the start of a most prosperous cooperation between The Imperial State of Sirens of Titan and The Hypocricy of Der Angst. Again, we thank you.

Respectfully, Captain and Commander Van Riebeeck::
}}Message - communication uplink terminated.

The ship (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v251/Tindalos/DoGA%20Work/esther1.jpg) lumbered into Neptune-space. It was a painfully boxy affair (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v251/Tindalos/DoGA%20Work/esther2.jpg) with little to offer the eye by way of aesthetic sensabilities. Of course, in the blazing world of Mercury, function was far more important than form. And this ships function was to bring a considerable amount of raw materials to Neptune. The ship itself would be cannabalized and turned into the barge that Esther would be using as her base of operations.

Initiate CommandKey \\:\\:extrncomm\\tightbeam:Poseidon_Station
Return //://:extrncomm\\tightbeam:Poseidon_Station Successful

Hello! Just wanted to let you know that I'm in the area and ready to set up shop. Is there anything you need from me, or shall I just get to work?

~ Esther

Initiate CommandKey \\:\\:closeroute
Return //://:closeroute Successful

A few levels down

"Well, yes." Anita nodded, somewhat slowly, deliberately disregarding pretty much every 'hint' that she was, well, unwanted. "But some vague resemblance... Nevermind." She digged into her food, slowly beginning to talk... Less, the effects of the mind-altering substances being surprisingly pleasant... Not only to her, but also for the two officers, albeit for different reasons. A few giggles and whispered comments here and there, apparently, Anita was quite well known for her… attitudes.

Gehenna Tartarus

Isabelle shrugged. “Actually, given the rather, ah… wide variety of nations now present here, I have my doubts regarding it. I guess we’ll wait until everyone established the necessary basics in-system, possibly with a few of the new inhabitants becoming a little less hostile to each other. Hopefully. Until then, it would only be a talking club for extraordinarily aggressive gentlemen, anyway. And other things…” Another shrug. “We’ll see what comes up. Actually, I’m rather curious of the problems we will… well, might soon have.”

Sirens of Titan

From: Poseidon
To: Sirens of Titan Diplomacy Unit
Subject: Re

“Perfect. I’ll immediately send a representative.”

Sincerely,

~ Poseidon (Sandra Mikogami)

The craft was small, a mere shuttle, quickly accelerating, then equally quickly decelerating in the direction of the Diplomacy Unit.

The shuttle itself was essentially automated, the ‘guest’ on board being more or less bored to death. Bloody Machines..

Still, eventually he arrived, leaving the shuttle and entering the Diplomacy Unit through the next available airlock, slightly nervous. Diplomats were discouraged fom changing so far as to be capable of surviving in space, unprotected by a suit, as said changes tended to look slightly menacing to the unsuspecting visitor. And Nishino White wasn’t particularly fond of suffocating while freezing to death in a vacuum that was pulling him apart.

He looked around for a moment, wondering who or what was waiting for him.

The LiME And temporal confusion!

From: Poseidon
To: Esther
Subject: Smalltalk

“Welcome! Perfect, I was wondering when you would arrive.

“Though, no, nothing we would specifically need from you, so feel free to start your project. I’m always here, anyway, should you need something.

“Well, almost always.”

Yours,

~ Poseidon (Sandra Mikogami)

OOC: You have arrived at the SoT ship alright? I'll start the meeting right away.

IC:
The Meeting

So finally Der Angst has responded. About time, and now it is time to put our plan into action. The 'thing' from the cold storage awaited the diplomat from Der Angst patiently. Sitting in complete silence with his eyes glaring at the door from which the diplomat would come. The procedure was easy enough: shake hands, tell him something about the traditions and culture on Christmas, our very 'earthly' ways of living and then jump to the subject of the base on Triton. Sounds simple, and it is.

A few moments later the diplomat from Der Angst was welcomed aboard by a servant of Captain Van Riebeeck. He excused himself and Van Riebeeck not being available to welcome her. A most unfortunate illness has struck our beloved captain was the lie, and the docter ordered him to stay in bed. A better ruse for the captain's absence couldn't be created but the Der Angstian diplomat wasn't stupid or anything. While the servant was telling her all sorts of stories of little to no importance regarding her mission she was led through the maze of small corrdiors with the air filled with small talk still coming from the servant. Eventually she was led into the meeting room. Furnished with wood, real wood and overall a cozy and comfortable place.

The manlike create stood up, as he saw her entering the room. Invisible to her, the servant winked and without showing the creature understood it. He raised his hand, hinting to the Der Angstian to shake hands, a tradition on Christmas to the start of every great friendship. With his right hand raised, his overly friendly smile he looked at the Der Angstian and waited for him to react to this quite unexpected form of meeting. Or was it unexpected? There's so much unknown about Der Angstians. Perhaps they were surprised the people from Christmas use the same way of greeting.

"What in the Universe..." Maradas looked around for the annoying buzzing sound reaching his ears. Lan was sitting unconcernedly down, playing with a small game device. Maradas's ears twitched, but then he decided that the sounds of 'Die, Alien, Die' were not what he was hearing. Then he slowly reached up to his ear and pressed the small metalic cylinder.

A headphone extended down to his mouth, and then the elf said, "Maradas here." Then his eyes widened. "She is? Launch time is when? An hour? Very good."

~~

"What a ghastly place." The young woman grimaced as she inspected her surroundings. Her emerald tiara flashed in the weak light of the shuttle as she slowly stepped out of her seat and stretched, making the men around her look away as she did. Slowly, she leant to the sides, then twisted her spine in both directions. "...Okay, let's launch as soon as we can."

The door slid open and the stairs extended, and the woman walked down them. She glanced around once more, and frowned. Her expression of distaste deepened when a fat man in a robe ran over and literally slobbed on her hand. "Miss Ellestrea! We're so glad you..."

Alysanndra raised a hand and narrowed her eyes. The emerald flashed again, before she made a quick gesture. The man was sent flying through the air. "...touch me again with your disgusting lips, Merchant Lord, and I will have them sliced off." Damn that Ver'chan, sending me up here.

The Merchant Lord pulled himself up and retreated behind a bulky object. "Welcome to Pinnacle2, Miss Ellestrea."

Welcome. And I can't wait to leave. Alysanndra checked her watch. Only an hour to launch...

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v369/Roania/Allysandra.jpg

It was half-an-hour to launch, and Alysanndra was still recovering from her trip. She stood in the shower she had commandeered from one of Pinnacle2's inhabitants and slowly slid the soap up and down the soft curves of her body. It felt so good to let water fall over her that she almost purred, feeling all her stress slowly melt away. Hopefully, this will be a caretaker appointment and I'll be able to get back to Earth.

As she slowly brought the soap across her breasts, her face twisted into a frown for a moment. It had been an interesting series of events that had brought her here. Just two days ago she had been just one Burgher on the Novy Archangelsk council amongst many. Then someone had spoken well of her to Ver'chan, and here she was, catapulted to being one of the top members of the GuildBoard. Alysanndra smoothed her hair away from her ear, purring as she brushed the sensitive points.

Of course, she had it planned out. She'd do her best here, rise to the top of the national consciousness, and then maybe quit the guild and go for politics. If my namesake could manage it, so could I. Alysanndra slowly moved the soap along her legs and waist, and then... "EEEEEEK!" She shrieked, almost falling backwards in her rush to cover herself as the black tile in the wall was unexpectedly revealed to be a communications screen.

"Marcus, we need to know where Miss Ellestrea disappeared to. Launch is in 15 minutes and we need her to be re..." the young man on the other end looked up from his papers and stared in disbelief. "...um. Glad we found you?" He said, his eyes darting around to look anywhere but where he had been a moment ago. I told the communications people that 'constant contact' was a mistake when they installed it a week ago.

"I can't say I am." Alysanndra snapped, her cheeks bright red with embarassment as she tried to crouch low enough that only her face could be seen.

"Err... I meant, We are glad we found you, Miss Ellestrea." He coughed, blushing hotly as he looked away. "We need you ready in 8 minutes. I'll just go and...I'll just go." The screen shut down.

Alysanndra managed to start breathing again, and quickly turned the water off and activated the heater. I definitely need a career change. And there better not have been tapes of that!

~~

Seven minutes and fifty-nine seconds later, Alysanndra was being shuttled from one end of the cavernous 'workroom' to the other. Her guide prattled on as she looked around with interest. "When the main engines kick in, so will the distorters. Those will pump up the matrix and start the organic clock. Within an hour of the artificial sun's processes beginning, a biosphere will start to form using the already packaged plants and animals. Now, the power supply will be..."

Alysanndra had already decided she wasn't overly interested in the technical details of how her city's life support and organic systems worked, so long as they did. That wasn't what she was paid to do. Her job was to manage the people. And her experience had told her that if there was one thing you could never plan for, it was running a city.

Especially a city that would have millions of people living in it and its sisters. Well. If nothing else, Lakutika will be a challenge.

OOC: *Gives his RP time chronometer a spin*

IC:

Several years after the conference concluded, the Skeelzanians arrive. (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=436414)

Sirens of Titan

"Of course, of course..." Nishino White nodded, understanding, and idly wondered... He looked down along his chest. No. All normal. Why does he think I'm a 'she'? Well, perhaps their females are particularly ill-equipped...

Otherwise, he listened to the monologue of pleasantries and unimportant stories coming from his attendant, occasionally nodding, until they eventually arrived at... Well, the meeting room, or what counted as one.

He took the.. 'Man's' hand, shaking it, a little insecure, perhaps (After all, in DA, bowing was the common form of greeting, and it was generally considered a far less dirty form, too. After all, all the microbes on another person's skin, all the dirt and scents and... Ewww), but nonetheless.

"Nishino White, honoured to be on board. You're...?"

For the person Nishino was now talking to, Nishino was pretty much baseline human. Well, looked like it, anyway. Definite technological implants were, if not utterly lacking, still well-hidden inside his body, and if one disregarded the rather excessive DNA-mix that defined most of him, he was pretty much... normal. "Oh, and, just to come right to business... I've been told that you're mainly into a bit of Triton, yes?"

With Hilda, the lawyers and the rest of the delegation still running around on Poseidon some-where ( I don't know, nor do I care. They'll find their own way home or demonstrate the process of natural selection, that is to say the lawyers will, even space has enough of those guys. The rest will get back, on that faster-than-sanity luxury / frieghter they purchased / stand-over-tactic bought out ) it was a good thing they'd been briefed to have the luxury vessel they'd turned up on fire off a strong signal to begin ...

T.U.S. wasn't wasting any time, and had definately, carefully planned out their making good on their investment (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=434946) as soon as they could do so ...

OOC: Well, this is embarrassing. In my absence, I appear to not yet have ratified the treaty on Page 8.

Official Message from the United Solaris Federation of Tiburon

The National Assembly of States has approved the Treaty of Poseidon in both houses, and the appropriate legislation has been signed to make the treaty into effect within the entirety of the United Solaris Federation of Tiburon. As agreed by the Midlonian frigate and the Tiburonese fleet, the United Solaris Federation shall take sovereignty over the western hemisphere of the moon, while the Greater Kingdom of Midlonia shall do so over the eastern hemisphere.

OOC: Apologies for the long wait Der Angst.

IC:
Der Angst - Conference

The creature, frighteningly manlike gave the women a firm handshake. Not too hard that might be called painful, but not soft. A tiny sting from the palm of the creature's hand pushed into Nishino White's hand. A small sting with a needle, you can feel it, but it's something one does not pay much attention to such thing. Everybody has such feelings once, do they not?

"Greetings Mrs White, I'm Mr Cleg, the official Sirens of Titan diplomatic representative. I'm sent forth to clear the way for you, rid ourselves of all the bureaucratic nonsense and get on with the diplomatic part. May I offer you a seat?"

The overall kindness of the man, the creature, as astounding. Without hesitation he walked for her, gave her whatever she needed. Then, he sat down and began a story why exactly the SoT CC and Czardom want a base and trade post on Neptune, and diplomatic relations with Der Angst. As he continued his most interesting and detailed story, the small sting of ten minutes earlier began to do its destructive work. Cell by cell the structure of the women was reorganized to become a Titan. She wouldn't feel a thing until it's too late, when she realizes resistance is futile, and when it knows the time is ripe to sew more of its destructive cells into the bodies of humans.

'Frighteningly manlike' was, of course, something of an oxymoron. If anything, 'manlike' was common, and with Nishino White coming from a society where genetic manipulation and cybernetics were about as common as dirt, well, even if Mr Cleg hadn't been manlike, it wouldn't have been much of an issue.

Besides, when you're capable of hacking a mind and shutting down a nervous system for shit and giggles, you're rarely scared by mere physical intimidation.

"Ow. Careful, please." Handshakes practically unknown, stitch unexpected... Yes, the 'ow' was understandable, or at least Nishino hoped it was. "But certainly." Taking his seat, he wasn't astounded by the kindness Mr Cleg showed. While Angstians were known to be less-than-polite, they were so in slightly more sophisticated ways than the common 'Piss off' or 'Get it yourself', and besides, for diplomats, different rules applied. Behaviour like that displayed by Mr Cleg was expected.

Well, actually, some preferred to have attendants to attend to simple tasks like serving drinks, but this varied and often depended on how intimate the diplomats in question were with each other. After all, you can't have the attendant show up in your bedroom...

... Except of course that you're gunning for a threesome. But this wasn't the case, here (Well, some exchange of bodily fluids, or the equivalent thereof, had taken place, but the context was rather different, and in any case, unknown to Nishino).

Now, all that was needed was to follow through the 'Interesting Story' of SoT's interests and needs with regards to Neptune.

Nishino yawned.

Inside his body, an interesting conflict took place. His body, although comparatively untouched by DA standards (As was proper for a diplomat), wasn't a particularly easy target. Whatever had been introduced into his body had to deal with a rather excessive DNA mix and a somewhat above baseline human immune system assisted by the occasional standard nanite inside his bloodstem or his lymph system. Nothing especially impressve, nothing particularly amazing. DA standard for even the simplest of individuals, plus a few slightly more expensive extras supposed to streamline search-and-destroy molecular command lines and nanoscale-surface structure recognition.

Add to this a slightly edited nervous system, a slightly odd body chemistry, and lots of microscopic, optic circuits and networks wrapped around said nervous system, just in case that someone took it over with soft EEMFs, and it was an impressive, if hidden machinery.

Still, while the advance of the... Change was slowed down, rather significantly so, it wasn't stopped. Unsurprisingly, given that whatever had been introduced to him was capable of acting in (At least) pretty much every carbon-based lifeform. Possibly a slow start, but certainly exceptionally versatile.

Of course, with his nervous system, Nishino could feel it a good deal earlier... Like, minutes after it started.

This did, of course, not mean that he actually knew what happened (Just like you don't know that you've having skin cancer just because it itches), but he knew that something, well...

Itched.

Nishino scratched his right hand a little. "By the way... I don't want to drop my pants, but... I can assure you that I'm male. So... Would it be particularly hard for you to use 'He' instead of 'She'?"

The two petty officers had finished their meal quickly enough, communicating silently their displeasure with the woman.

I wonder if they’re all this rude.

Probably. Those UN reports have to have some basis.

True enough. But still… Can you believe what all is in this food?

Nope. I’m pretty sure at least half of these substances are either illegal or, at least, monitored tightly back home. At the very least, there ought to be a warning on the menu.

Well, we’ll remember to recommend adding it to the diplocorps file on Der Angst and its subsidiaries.

Definitely. Are you done yet? This woman is beginning to creep me out.

In a minute. Try to refrain from shooting her. The Ambassador would never forgive us, and I like flying with him.

Me too.

Dawes spoke as they stood up, having finished the meal. “A pleasure, Miss. If you’ll excuse us, we must return to our ship.” The two military personnel did their best to vanish into the crowd without waiting for a response.

* * * * *

Meanwhile, throughout the Fleet, orders were passed quietly and quickly by TacNet ansible. Within two hours, twenty ships, a Heavy Task Group, had detached themselves from the Second Battle Fleet and were inbound towards Larissa, the discussions with the Britmattians surprisingly simple. Two fifths to each nation, with the last fifth being distributed to Allied endeavors.

About the time those ships coasted to a gentle stop in a zero-zero relative intercept with the small moon, something much more massive began to move from the asteroid belt. Far slower, and far larger than even the Capella-class dreadnaughts now keeping station on the moon, the automated combined industrial station and asteroid miner was moving slowly towards its new assignment.

Hollowing out a moon.

A few levels down

"Mhmm... Hmmm... Mhmhmhmmmhm." It was rather obvious that Anita hadn't used (Or didn't poessess) the parts of her that would have helped to reduce the effect of the mindalterning 'spices' in her menu. With good reason, as her... 'Ascended' (In a sense) state of mind seemed to suggest. "Give it my best regards." She giggled hopelessly. "Perhaps we'll see each other again. I'll... Make... cert... Senti... peo... ...isit."

Neptune System

It was something of a largish fleet, certainly larger than what one was used to with DA vessels, about threehundred and fifty craft, with a whole cloud of drones and sub-ships all around (Or inside) them, closing in, and eventually starting to orbit the object in question, approximately 22.5 million kilometres away from Neptune.

A rather large project. Granted, with a diameter of 48 kilometres, S/2002 N 2 was significantly smaller than Thebe, but then, Thebe had been three nations working on the whole turning-into-habitat business. In this case, it was just one. Or more to the point, a fraction of one.

Much muttering between some of the vessels. The Economic Disasterstan dislikes the whole idea, the Stockbroker's Nightmare wants to move the moon now, rather than after the construction is complete, and the Insignificant Profit Margain is a nuisance, as usual.

Eventually, Stockbroker's Nightmare gets its wish, seeing as it is, for once, actually rather practical.

A few hours later, the towing of roughly 9e16 kilograms of mass begins, general direction: Neptune, the intended orbit being somewhere at about 177400km from the planet.

<Stockbroker's Nightmare> SHIT! Ninety teratons. I feel so heavy. Accel?
<Insignificant Profit Margain> Not too bad... one centimeter per second. Only due to the subcraft, tho. Without them, it would be about half of it.
<Stockbroker's Nightmare> ...
<Insignificant Profit Margain> Hey, it'll be over in less than a year!
<Stockbroker's Nightmare> Yes... With us being busy... Nevermind. This just... sucks. They could have given us twice as many ships, ya'know.
<Insignificant Profit Margain> Only with a drastic reduction of supplies for the colonies. Impossible.
<Stockbroker's Nightmare> Bah.

It would take its time, certainly. But they would make it. Eventually.

The Commando exchanges a glance with Servalan but no detectable signal, then as she nods projects a set of augmented reality tags toward GCD 6/09; a Territorial man, swarthy, strong-faced, wearing a loincloth and carrying a club set with shards of obsidian. He speaks in Nahuatl, with an accompanying reference to a nonsapient AI translator from that language.

"They came to our burning lands in peace, and soon they learned that isn't our way. And there was a sickness, a malady, a madness that killed most of them regardless of strength, and so not just the fat, weak ones died. But they died soon after. In the Burning Land your arm is always Jove's, and when the time comes you give it up.

"They'd brought warriors with them, though, and the warriors fought. Fought well, fought strong, killed many defending their tame slugs. And a few just fought. We say to others 'may you find your rage', but so few, so very few do. Some did, though, and they fought and they died, and they do even now in many of the tribes. Even some of the slugs found La Tigra's rage, and one lives even now as one of the People in body and spirit.

"You seem more like one of the Leopard Sow's folk, Armored Foot Warrior Six Nine, soldier, disciplined, and you won't see the truth of this, but you do have strength. And a few of the soldiers did live, and showed great strength, and La Tigra herself honored them. Some of our tribes have skill in creating things, and they made a ship for your countrymen.

"We of La Tigra's tribe made them great gifts of gold and cocoa, and set a skull rack with all they killed on the gem innerhull, and they went on their way with Her blessing. They made good account of themselves, and Burning Mountain blesses your culture, Armored Foot Warrior Six Nine."

The three move along the passages to the conference room, entering with the hGCD. A woman, slender, human from her looks, in a white uniform, pale with short, shaggy black hair, nametape reading SERVALAN. A Territorial man, dark and slender for his stocky race and graceful, walking close to her, an aide from the look of him, nametape reading TAGGART. A Tigran, clad in his chitin-like armor skin but otherwise naked except for gear adhered to skin and covered with softly luminous tattoos; one white on chest reading JOVE'S BLOODY WOUND like a nametag.

The translater is certainly useful, as GCDs tend to be less than impressive when it comes to languages, most of their processing power being supposed to do other things.

An interesting monologue, certainly. is the first thing hGCD 6/09 thinks. Certainly a rural charme of sorts. Looks better with the chitin, tho.

Of course, the content is mildly disconcerting, if comprehendable (Which, given that it was presently talking to a La Tigra.. thing, is a positive surprise).

In the end, a note is made, and a few seconds (Not to mention a rather complicate trip through vaguely defined administrative labyrinths) later, an inquiry is on its way to Jupiter, regarding traffic from Io in the last few months.

Can't be bad to know a little more about the ones who have not been assimilated by La Tigra's people. For the ones who have, well... Can't do much with them, barring the option of having some contacts within the insanity, which is better than nothing.

"Good. They certainly fought well, to find La Tigra's rage, joining your tribes. I'm proud of them."

Socialising with them? Freakish... hGCD 6/09 tries to keep its sentences on a level vaguely comparable to what the Tigran said, but it is quickly dissatisfied with itself. Too different a culture, and thinking. Well, Better than nothing, it guesses.

Lacking a number of assorted facial expressions, the hGCD continues with a mixture of amusement and uneasyness not showing in its actual gestures, disregarding its four legs moving it forward a little faster, now. Finish this!

"Leopard Sow is surely spreading the strength he learned from La Tigra's people, as well as the strength he inherited from his own, on his journey." Good god, what if they start randomly blowing stuff up? On the other hand, could be useful.

Something almost resembling a bow follows. "Jove and its burning world have teached them, I'm sure, as expected from La Tigra's world."

Fortunately, it doesn't need to continue any longer, eventually arriving at the conference room, allowing for the doorframe-filling GCD to live up a little. Takashi is already standing, and walking towards the new arrivals, bowing as it is custom (And certainly being a rather interesting switch of stature when compared to the hGCD, seeing as his relatively weak, organic form and features resembling your average middle-aged office worker are hardly matching the martial look and overall massiveness of the GCD) and releasing a string of words and loosely connected sentences, apparently slightly overworked. "Guards Major Servalen. Welcome. I'm Marius Takashi. Well, the first delegations are already leaving, so we're having plenty of time... Triton, wasn't it? At least Sandra said so. Any specifications?"

The Nahuatl gurgles on like a peaceful brook, odd goven the Corporal's appearance. "You do us honor, grace us, illuminate us, Armored Foot Warrior Six Nine, but please, there is no need to adapt, to dive into water that is guarded by tigers, not leopards. You are a soldier, stranger to us, but we honor some soldiers, like your countrymen, like the African folk, like the Rheans. Speak as you will, Armored Foot Warrior Six Nine."

Servalan returns the bow gracefully - an odd grace for a Territorial citizen; blend of the sensually feline ond the more mechanical cyborg. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, M Takashi. I hope to be seeing more of you and M Mikogami in the future." Public access AR cues blossom, showing scematics of the Neptune system. The longscan network is apparent, as is a gas-mining operation in international parts of the planet.

"Indeed, and I believe that an equatorial placement bordering your nations's holdings on Triton would be ideal." A slim hand caresses the image of Triton and an outline lights up in a warm orange. "Manufacture and safety coordination, rescue, defense, et cetera." A smile. "As I've mentioned in correspondence I expect the Neptune sustem environment to be competetive, but there is ample room for multilateral gain in cooperation. Don't you agree, M Takashi?"

"Oh..." The hGCD contemplated the option to say a little more, but it wasn't quite sure what. Being a combatant generally meant that you were somewhat less versatile when it came to conversation.

Besides, the Tigran's presence was unsettling it. Nonetheless, it could at least try. "Your kind words honour me, though I tend to try to use the expressions of our guests, to... learn, Corporal Jove's Bloody Wound."

And yet there was this strange fascination with it... He certainly wouldn't mind learning more. Well, 'learning'. Living like it. Just the amount of drugs it would require to get into the right mood would be unsettling.

Meanwhile, Takashi nodded in Servalen's direction. "Oh, I'm sure that will be considerably easy..."

<Marius Takashi> Hum. You got friendly with our guests, hrm?
<Poseidon (Core)> A little. Why?
<Marius Takashi> Want to see more of you. Well, and me.
<Poseidon (Core)> So? *Chuckles* Wonder if they mean me or the city...
<Marius Takashi> Supposedly you. The aged woman, that is. Well, possibly both.
<Poseidon (Core)> Hrm. Lemme see... ah, yes, some free time can be arranged, once you're done with the transfer. See you. Oh, and are you sure that she doesn't mean it in a more... extended timeframe sense?
<Marius Takashi> No. Anyway. Mind cooking?
<Poseidon (Core)> Oh, for the love of... Shut up.

He gave the schematics only a little attention... owning most of the system generally meant that he was aware of them as well as of the stuff that floated around it at considerable distances, so it was not much more than a little reminder. "Well, let me see... We're going to expand our effective, that is, used holdings on Triton to roughly 1% of the surface... So this should fit in nicely. And given the already significant level of Territory/ DA cooperation, especially with regards to defence and manufacturing, organisation should be a comparatively simple task."

Of course, there was the issue about DA Triton being filled with semi-criminals, lacking any kind of serious productivity, but this problem could be taken care of. Migration was in the process of starting up again, anyway, and subsentient installations were hardly socially incompatible. "As for competition, well, we'll see, I suppose that some of the potentially competitive neighbors may turn out to be somewhat inactive... But generally I agree, yes. Now..." Public access is a good thing, the image shifts and changes a little, now displaying a little map of the equatorial area next to DA's (Future) installations on Triton, equally-sized. "This should be sufficient? Considerable craterisation, and not overly dense... but, well, nothing on Triton is."

Neptune

Ten hours after initiating warm up, translucent, white jets shot from the maneuvering array located on the tip of the 'forward-oriented' cargo truss. It attempted to go 'right'. Inertia of the millions of tons of cargo and scaffolding behind it pushed it 'forward'. Assisted in the choice of action by additional thruster arrays on the other three cargo trusses, the ship slowly began to rotate. Sir Isaac Newton had governed its course for nine months, and would continue to do so for a while longer. Forward, in this case, was Neptune's position a few days. The ship wasn't aiming for Neptune, but rather for its orbital space.

The turquoise planet had grown from a bright star into a wondrous ball, taking up the entire visual display in the ship's control center. She stumbled into that space, legs stiff and weak, still groggy from five months, eight days, twelve hours, and sixty seconds of cryo. Wet hair plastered across her forehead, she dropped into the solitary crash couch at the heart of the ovoid space. Strategically placed instrument displays, detecting her presence, flickered, awakening from their own sort of slumber. Their backlights glowed azure. She shivered, turned the temperature up ten degrees in the control center, wishing for a cup of coffee, or tea, or something warm.

It would be a while before she could get anything besides nutrient paste. Even if her stomach could handle something real after months of vegetation, the compilers in the mess weren't online. Nor would they work until her ship was safely in Neptune's grasp. Like the rotation, everything was handled by the ship's central intelligence. She headed back into the shower. If there was one thing her ship had plenty of, it was water. It was only a matter of poking hydrogen and oxygen from the fuel tanks into a combustion chamber, and routing them into the shower, from where they'd go into another fuel tank and from there into the fusactor.

In truth, it would have been cheaper to scrap the human component altogether, if the coders and engineers who had designed her ship had been able to predict all possible events. They settled on the next best thing -- a human controller awake during those stages where there was a significant possibility of unpredictable events. Namely, from the time the ship entered the Neptunian planetary system to infinity. She considered this for not the first time under the continuous stream of hot water. It didn't require many resources to build and maintain a heat exchanger between the shipwide cooling grid and the habitation water supply.

"Updated telemetry received from central control," a professional voice announced from a speaker somewhere behind the pearly white overhead of the shower stall. She gasped, in the moment before realizing it was just the ship's intelligence unit. "Data integrity verified," it added while she was drying off. Presumably, it had spent the time between announcements running checks. It was a good thing the computer had done that, she decided. Worms and viruses were uncommon in extraplanetary communications, but they were possible. The last thing she wanted was to get stuck going at twenty-four kilometers a second towards the outer solar system with no computer systems. "Integrating system data."

Stomach churning and working at the nutrient paste, full but not content, she returned to the control center to find red and gold text scrolling down the communications controls console.

>Rec: Contact Angstian Neptune.
>Rec: Contact Sundry.

She sighed, realizing there was nothing better to do anyway.

>>Src: FDK-WIS-HFS No.972FD61A6 'La Blue Girl'
>>Trg: Poseidon <Core>
>> ( : This is a space : )
<La Blue Girl> *Poke*
<La Blue Girl> How's life?

The formerly 'forward' cargo truss had changed its position, as the ship rotated about face along its axis. More thrusters fired in steady streams, stabilizing the ship, which resembled nothing more than a tripod, or a giant methane molecule with the ship's core the carbon and the four cargo trusses the bonds linking it to the hydrogens. "Orientation complete for orbital insertion," the Blue Girl's intelligence system announced.

The approaching... Monstrosity is duly noticed, scanned, identified, catalogued, and forgotten by the local civilian surveillance, and only occasionally looked at by the nowadays not-so-minor traffic all around.

Definitely a monstrosity, and many a ship or drone spends a couple microseconds to wonder just why a nation as known for its considerable amount of excessive hightech as Weyr tugs around such, well, how to put it...

It's simply ugly as hell.

On the other hand, it's supposedly cheap. Very cheap. Actually, make that excessively cheap, thus fitting Weyrs... Not-so-impressive financial resources.

It took a while, weeks, months, for the monstrous and slow construction to arrive, but eventually, it did (Almost to the surprise of some of the local ships and a few dozen drones). Sandra was less surprised, though, for now running her main body on a subroutine and concentrating on her work in various bits of computronium more-or-less evenly spread throughout Poseidon.


* Incoming... Identifying Source... FDK-WIS-HFS No.972FD61A6 'La Blue Girl'
* Replying...
<Poseidon (Core)> Ow! Keep your tentacles to yourself!
<Poseidon (Core)> Anyway, as usual. Actually, rather bored, now that the Factory Craft departed for the cloud. Rather significant a comms drop.
<Poseidon (Core)> So, as you're going to arrive in the forseeable future... I hope that you've had nice dreams?

<La Blue Girl> Sorta.

She went over the controls, his time in detail. Low velocity made armor and screens against micrometeorites unnecessary, but the lack of those shields and armor meant anything big enough that had not been plotted had a good chance of destroying something important. The damage controls showed everything was operational. She hoped it stayed that way.

<La Blue Girl> I think.

She wasn't really sure if she had any dreams. Cryo invlved more than turning someone into a meatcicle. It was closer to hibernation, but with lowered temperature to slow metabolism. She tried to remember what it was that actually happened in cryo, because she definitely didn't remember anything after the intelligence unit in charge of the cryo module pumped her full of some many-coloured liquids.

<淫獣学園> Mhm, boredom is bad. Very bad. Oh, and I have a datalink for you.

She prodded the upload link function. The data had come from the comms officer on the relay ship during the negotiations a years or so back. She didn't really want to know what was on it. It probably involved footage of something relating to her ship's namesake.

<淫獣学園> Okay, here we go. Couple of hours and I'll start deploying. Doesn't look like there's anything in the way...

And once she got to deloying the orbital baggage associated with any Weyrean establishment, she could get a hyperlight link back to the subEtha network back home.

It had finally arrived. And in the mean time, twenty ships had arrived for permanent station above what would become the Federation of Sentient Peoples’ fourth off-Earth colony, this one the smallest of them all.

It took approximately two months, but eventually, the moon was hollow, and coated with a thick layer of battlesteel on its inner surface, reforged from the raw material of the moon itself.

Of course, by the time this was done, the moon had a one kilometer hole parked at one end, which was the entry way. But holographics concealed this fact from the naked eye, and as the miner had landed at an equatorial position, the location was hopefully concealed well enough, both by the holographics and the fuzz of electronic countermeasures which currently flooded the space about the moon, deployed from the warships which swung about it in tight orbit.

Larissa, for all anyone could tell, could be being turned into a massive fortress. Or maybe it was just a very expensive mining operation.

All that was immediately obvious against all but the most obscenely powerful sensors at very close range was that ships entered the field of jamming and scanner blocking, a cloud of silicate dust everywhere, construction ships, freighters, and the like, as well as military vessels, and did not come back out again.

And this continued for months.

This was not the way things were supposed to go.

"What the hell hapened there" That was heard most frequently throughout the space vessel, when somehow a mechanic restored image and the whole happenings were visible throughout the ship. The Angstian delegate, of unknown gender to the crewmen, stood there while the SoT diplomat began to make spastic movements, throwing up foul slime and other bodily fluids, hissing out blood from his eyes and the growling sound of a legendary and mythic monster from deep space. The Thing just stood there transforming itself into a copy of the Angstian 'wo-man'. Suddenly, like a clap of thunder coming from nowhere Van Riebeek stormed in with his antique revolver drawn.

"Get down lady" he yelled and began to shoot the head of the Thing, or also known as a Titan.

Nobody knew what happened exactly or what caused this, but Captain Van Riebeek knew, and he was stopping it. He emptied all chambers, and when he was done, he reloaded it and began firing round after round into its head.

It became quiet and lifeless. And by the looks of the Angstian women, she wanted to ask a question or two. But that's how drunken Van Riebeek saw it, perhaps she just wanted to puke and then leave.

OOC: Once again, apologies for the long interval between my posts. I've been busy to RP the MT establishment of Guffingford (and later on, FT as well) on the NationStates forum. I should have posted earlier, sorry.

Neptune

Eventually, with many pains, S/2002 N2 arrived in its intended orbit, a bit faster than planned, mostly because they had eventually started the reconstruction process while still being underway... And (Temporary) weight reduction, combined with occasional help from other ships (Scylla and Charybdis, formerly spacedy-stations in Neptune Orbit, now factory craft that took the refining of moon matter upon itself, proved to be quite effective) had eventually resulted in cutting down transfer time.

One by one, the ships disconnected. Readjusting the orbit wasn't seen as a possibility, the whole process being far too complex to do it again without some serious bits of frustration.

They were lucky. +/- 1000 meters... the accuracy was sufficient. And watching the 'rock' finally moving as it was supposed to move, where it was supposed to move...

<Insignificant Profit Margain> Pfew. I think we've earned a few drinks.

Of course, where FSP and TUS were already near-done, DA Neptune still had to do most of its work.

But at least it could now finally start with it.

Weyr

<Poseidon (Core)> Sorta? Ah, well.

For a moment, Sandra wondered about Weyrean travel accomodations. She'd heard a few odd things... And coming from someone who had grown up in a nation where the pilot was occasionally uploaded into computronium banks or had his/ her body floating in semiconducting liquid, being considered 'odd' suggested less-than-pleasant accomodations.

<Poseidon (Core)> Well, shoot.

Information was gathered, sent, received and looked through. Looked through again. And again.

<Poseidon (Core)> O_o Ummm... Have you actually looked at this? I'm not sure you sent the correct file...

Even for Sandra's admittedly not too sensitive taste...

Gross.

Sirens of Titan

Nishino watched almost disinterestedly through the proceedings. Admittedly not very tasteful proceedings, but he'd seen worse.

A few seconds of silence followed, then he walked over to the corpse, now slightly more interested, seeing his own features - Well, the remains of a few of his own features - in the bloody mess of broken skull and spilled brain. "Well, I need to start a diet, anyway... Now's as good a time as any, I guess."

Turning towards Van Riebeek, he sighed audibly. "So... First of all, are you familiar with the terms 'Male', 'Man', 'masculine', the likes? And while we're at it-" He gestured in the direction of the corpse. "What was this all about? And yes, I'm interested in the details."

His hand still itched.

<La Blue Girl> Uhm, nope. Not really looked at it, but I'm quite sure it's the correct file. I'd rather have not even transited it. Just thinking about the possibilities makes me feel dirty, and I'm not even part of the system. >_<

She had nothing better to do than sit and wait for the computer to start the preliminary insertion run. It was a glorified arc around the planet, well within its innermost satellite's orbit, and quite safe as long as no one placed a stealthed object within her ship's path. The Blue Girl was never designed for high-velocity impacts, after all.

Artificial gravity went offline; there wasn't much sense in wasting computation cycles on it. Her stomach decided it didn't like the nutrient paste after all.

<La Blue Girl> So what's the deal with all the construction? It's not like there's anything useful this far out...

Well, that's certainly a reaction, Sandra thought, amused.

<Poseidon (Core)> Hehe. Well, I'll survive, so will you, I guess. Well, I might have problems sleeping after seeing landsquids in the garden... Nevermind.

Sensors tracked the movements of innumerable objects in Neptune's rings, dislocated moons, ships, orbital installations, the likes. Surprisingly, not a single bit of battle debris: A rare exception in sol.

Still, no matter how many objects there are, no matter how many transmissions are sent, it's all very boring, and soon enough, she continued with her conversation (One of perhaps a dozen she was having right now, not counting more-or-less official business. Being the core of a sentient installation had the nasty tendency of requiring annoying amounts of work...

<Poseidon (Core)> Well, depends. I'm... Well, we're certainly a technology centre for DA, especially as we got out of the war way sooner than the people on Earth, so for us it makes sense. For FSP, it's mostly a strategic concept... The others, don't ask me. Not that I'm complaining. I don't mind the action, really.

The Blue Girl unsheathed a cargo truss. Stationkeeping thrusters flared for what she suspected would be the last time. Its first orbit left behind a trail of debris that would for the most part fall into the blue giant's atmosphere, and incinerate. Sixteen satellites amidst the junk fired their own thrusters. Neptune's geostationary orbit was significantly less crowded than Terra's, even with the increased activity. A handful of small spheres powered by 'primitive' fission piles did not promise to cause much disruption.

"Deploying alpha extractors....now," she may have pressed a button, or entered a command on another ship. Everything in La Blue Girl was handled via computer. The intelligence unit was significantly better at timing than any organic. The pilonese and their ilk may have claimed they could gengineer better, but until they did she was perfectly happy to let the cybernetic core of her ship do all the work. More supercontainers opened their ports.

In space velocity remained constant; newtonian physics were fairly reliable at the velocities involved in orbiting a planet. Pre-assembled drones slowly thrusted out of their containers. They latched onto components stored in yet other containers, and following a preset path locked them together. By the time the next orbit would be complete, eight gas extraction modules would be online and dropping through Neptune's atmosphere, linked to La Blue Girl via just-released satellites.

<La Blue Girl> Strategic interests? 0.o
<La Blue Girl (SysOp)> NOrbSatCom 01 -- 16 online
<La Blue Girl (SysOp)> Forwarding locations....
<La Blue Girl (SysOp)> Granting global permissions....
<La Blue Girl (SysOp)> You are cleared to employ NOSC systems relays
<La Blue Girl> Gargh...spam. Apologetics. Well, whatever it said. *mutters*
<La Blue Girl> What's a landsquid?

Flocks, clouds of ships and drones watch the slow and rather complex arrival of the Weyrean ship and its various bits and bytes of equipment and installations, slowly spreading out and taking up positions in what is supposed to be a vaguely accurate maneuver.

Almost violent chatter ensues. Drones are subtle, and easy to excite.

<Poseidon (Core)> Well, I believe it has to do with FSP's out-of-system interests.
<Poseidon (Core)> Ehehe... Why the hell does it have access to open comms? o.O Anyway...
* Filing name change: Poseidon (Core) - Sandra Mikogami
<Sandra Mikogami> Ah, better. I hate this soulless official crap.
<Sandra Mikogami> Ummm... Well... You know squids? Good. Imagine a surface-dwelling version. I could show you one, if you want. The plushies are incredibly popular with the girls.

"Quite, quite..." The slim hand moves, lightly touching the augmented-reality model, twisting as it expands, showing the relevant part of Triton, overlaid with slices of four-dimensional Neptune space showing prospective growth, infrastructure expansion, militarization; still more arcane geometries and topologies representing resource harmonization, logistics; information flowing into mind like a drop into a sea, exquisitely designed for the organic, letting animal-brain comprehension race ahead of machine for once.

Face flushes with heat of RF transmissions and computation and the caress of a world's future, smiling softly; soft gurgling of Nahuatl behind her, and the hand moves like a surgical tool, certain, calm, slow, not a nanosecond wasted as installations light up under it and geometries unfold. "Perhaps... something along these lines, M Takashi?"

Outside, in the frame of the Gae Bolga, a trillion babbages cease their clacking.

Inside, Jove's Bloody Wound bows slightly to hGCD 6/09, as far as vigilance permits but no longer; his augmented reality representation does bow deeply. "I would bow down before you clad in the meanest robes before you at the honor you do my people, my language, Armored Foot Warrior Six Nine. As I am a tiger walking with leopards, are you a leopard who would walk with tigers?"

<La Blue Girl> Ooh! Plushies!
<La Blue Girl> How much do they go for?

Diplomatic 'contact' was never as formal as textbooks made it out to be. Plushies were as good a beginning as any. In truth, it was better than Weyr's usual experience of needing an assault flotilla to guarantee the safety of its people outside its territories. She watched the drones assemble extraction units on external cameras. Their lidar and radar eyes swept hemispheres of space, augmenting the Blue Girl's own scanners. They watched for micrometeorites; larger debris was not frequent in Neptune orbit She hoped it would stay this way.

Each complete unit's systems got checked by the main intelligence unit, which now handled the drones, ship functions, and a myriad of other tasks without even the slightest stutter, to her surprise. She signed off on the extractor units' status and let the roughly ovoid constructs plummet towards the blue planet's atmosphere, nudged by minute thrusters. Their fusactors ignited ten kilometers 'down'. Magnetic fields came online. Reaching a preset altitude, they stabilized under the planet's magnetic influence. Internal intelligence units checked for interference and damage. Finding none, they sprouted tubules, and began siphoning gas into large, armored storage 'bags'.

The Blue Girl was not the only ship to have been launched toward Neptune. In the silence of interplanetary space, Urotsukidôji shot along a ballistic course that would intercept Neptune.

She considered what other work she had left. The extractors were dropping right on the mark. Collection units would follow; they would be parked in orbit and recieve 'deliveries' of hydrogen from extractors, filling up until emptied by equipment that would arrive on the Urotsukidôji, or by a ship requiring fuel and packing credits for the gas. There wasn't much to do, anymore, besides take long naps and watch the planet, and talk to whomever was on the other end of the line. Maybe she could drop by Poseidon during the next pass...

ooc: extended from DA and my negotiations thread...

Neptune

Ninety-three million miles from Neptunes core the five escort ships slowed to a halt as to not enter the Neptune sub-system. However, the ten major colonization ships and hundred smaller transports continued speeding towards Neptune to begin construction of the floating city that would soon form the heart of Largentian holdings on Neptune and within its system.

Their journey began thirteen hours and 2.4 light-hours ago on Earth. It had taken over a day to load the ships, some over 7 kilometers long, with the unimaginable amounts of materials needed to construct the city in the upper levels of Neptunes atmosphere.

The ships descended into Neptune's atmosphere slowing to a halt shortly, still high up in the atmosphere. The massive ships soon deployed thousands of gravships to lay down materials that will create a base for the city to that civilian workers and drones could begin constructing actual structures on. It was hoped that the city would be fully functional withing twelve months and the Triton colonization would be finished withing 18 months. However, it was still a little early to give accurate projections but it could never hurt to be optimistic.

The gravships dragged preconstructed pieces and connected them to for a first layer about eight square miles and a mile thick. The gravships activated machinery within the city alowing it to float while the gravships disconnected and pulled away returning to the main ships to reload with more materials and now workers to begin actuall construction.

Trition

A few smaller ships broke off from the main fleet and turned their attention to Triton. No real colony was ready to be established immediately but some outposts were going to be established on the gigantic snowball while colonization took place on Neptune.

It was mainly going to be used for scientific research and testing but it would be some time before any real construction was to take place so for the time being only the bare minimum was to be done. Very basic laboratories were to be constructed with materials that could be stuck into extra space on the ships. But even then it would be almost a month before any scientists would arrive to replace drones that would maintain the facilities until then.

The Territory

A little much for the human brain to handle. At this speed, anyway. And the computing power all around Takashi is of little use with this made-for-meatbags simulation.

No problem. He gets used to it, and carefully engineered and meddled-with neurons take care of the information flow while build-in - Though not military grade - security briefly glances over the incoming information flow. Nothing nasty in there, the first level, the second, the third...

A few dozen milliseconds delay, then it's through. A fairly dangerous way of communicating, come to think of it, if something nasty gets moved through. Of course, in this case, nothing's happened... And Takashi's too polite to specifically react to this brief flash of knifeplay from his Territorial counterpart.

He's always been the tame type.

Sandra, who is observing from a few hundred metres distant, giggles quietly to herself.

The information itself... Guns and the logistics thereof. Nice enough to look at, but Takashi's a civilian, or more to the point, a scientist, not a warship-mind. Still, relaying it works fast enough, and several high-profile ships (All of them Strategic) give their - Almost enthusiastic - approval. Unsurprisingly, given the amount of influence Territorial miltech has had on DA's own developments.

"Along these lines, yes." Takashi's still calm, businesslike, vaguely friendly. Granted, there's been a potential assault on his mind, but these tend to happen all the time - Not explicitly targetting him, given his relatively protected existence, but they're kind of a social phenomenon - and are hardly unusual. Sure, a military-grade one with actually dangerous content would probably have wasted him... He wasn't actually aware that the Territorials play with this kind of thing, too. He'll make a note of it. "Though this is a little..." Details are changed, somewhat more detailed knowledge regarding some of the occupants and structures is superimposed, integrated, quickly becoming a part of the whole. Grows over time changes, becoming faster here, slower there. Directing actions of several governmental strcutures are anticipated, and some variables regarding sol's inherently unstable structure leave some space for simple guesses. "That's better. I suppose that this prospects would be well within your desired parameters?"

The hGCD, towering over the Tigran, looks down curiously, at the same time jacking itself into some of the less well regarded networks available on Poseidon. Being a machine lacking any kind of, say, hormones, or basic body chemistry, it has to resort to slightly different means when it comes to 'Getting into the right mood'.

Lesse...

Scrolling through simple 2-D lists, searching for finished products... The variety is excessive, every 'official' product having at least ten offshots. The private consumers' dedication can be impressive.

There.

A millisecond's delay for the download, then the programs run - Much to the frustration of the more conservative military minds around, some of which actually recognise certain terms, such as 'Discipline' - and inside hGCD 6/09's consciousness, something changes.

Nice Timing, it thinks, registering both, base- and augmented reality, returning the gesture, though in its case, it looks slightly awkward - Or menacing, depending on one's point of view. It can be hard to conceive multiple hundred kilograms worth of mass murder as 'awkward' - , given its bulky frame. It's intended for combat, not for exchanging pleasantries.

"As you are a tiger walking with leopards, who would I be, honouring you like I did, were I not a leopard who would walk with tigers? Yes, I would - will - walk with them."

Weyr

<Sandra Mikogami> Oh, just a few PCs.

Which, given DA's rather inflated currency, meant a few ten-thousand of them, but its real value was still relatively insignificant.

Elsewhere, dumb searching algorithms figured out the next few transports heading for Neptune. Origin: Weyr. Name: -

And here some slightly less dumb sentients clutched their heads and banged them on their desks. And people said DA ships used tasteless names...

However, back at Neptune, nobody really cared.

<Sandra Mikogami> If you want, I'm sure I could organise one for you. Interested?
<Sandra Mikogami> As a present for my new neighbors, of course. Have to keep up a somewhat more civilised approach than the average, don't you think?

Largent

An impressive fleet, certainly, just going by sheer numbers. And especially considering that a bunch of DA ships had just recently finished their job - Moving a smaller moon - and left the subsystem... Still, there are enough left to watch.

Inside Neptune's atmosphere, barges - The Windbreaker and the Methane Surfer among them - watch, exchanging more-or-less witty, encouraging, or just plain arrogant comments among themselves or with the new arrivals.

Nothing really important of course. Just general chatter of the more light-hearted nature.

And in orbit? Essentially the same, just add a few thousand drones of varying kinds - Of course, only about every tenth of them has a mind located in its photonic core - and a hell of a lot more chatter.

Granted, they are impressed with the acceleration the Largentian ships manage, but such things hardly stop a proper Angstian from being an arrogant ass, cluttering communications with nonsense.

The week turned out to be interesting. The minds behind Weyr's Neptune project went for efficiency. The remaining two ships of the project dropped into Neptune's orbit two days apart a half week after La Blue Girl finished her preparations. Controlled by the ship's cental intelligence, everything went off perfectly, and went rapidly downhill when a drone's fusactor blew on ignition as it exited its container aboard Urotsukidôji. Four dozen superdense, hypervelocity projectiles went through everything in their path, not hitting anything important except for the Urotsukidôji's entire shiment of construction droids.

She dropped through the command levels. Two days of adding programs for droids to clean up a mess that was supposed to never happen, she was finally able to relax. The remaining drones flirted around the Tsukihime. They worked in shifts, dropping away closer to the planet's atmosphere every twenty-four hours to replenish hydrogen stocks from storage tanks constructed just days before.

A seal failed in collection module twelve. High-pressure gas ignited from a drone's drive flare. The two constructs turned into a high-explosive flare visible from a million kilometers away. She sighed, looking at the screens in the control center and struggling to wake up after only three hours of sleep. There wasn't any sense in sending salvage drones. The people back on Terra were going to throw a fit.

<La Blue Girl> As long as there aren't a lot of guns pointing at me, I'm happy.
<La Blue Girl> Plushies!
<La Blue Girl> ;;^____^
<La Blue Girl> If it isn't too much trouble ....

Poseidon

Diego had just left his meeting and wandered back towards his shuttle. Although the meeting was over, he was far from finished as far as his workday was concerned. He would now be transported to the LNS Endeavor to over see colonization. The Endeavor was by far the largest ship however it contained very little. Most of the supplies were stored on other ships but at least one ship had to serve as a floating command center. Now, Deigo would command that command center. Essentially, he organized all colonization.

The shuttle landed on the Endeavor and the two linked up. Diego was met by a smiling crewman who bowed and greeting him. "Good evening Mr. Estaban. Please follow me." Diego never really enjoyed using times of day while in orbit. It was so subjective however he said nothing.

The two walked through the ship for several minutes, really only covering a fraction of the ships length, but Diego was ready to sit down by the time he reached the door to the bridge. Once the door opened he saw men running all over in a sort of organized chaos. He soon found Admiral Swartz at the top level of the massive area and sat next to him. In front of them a fourty foot high window showed them a view off all the hustle and bustle of ships down on Neptune.

"How are things progressing?"

"Quite well actually. Except for one thing." He leaned over and flicked the switch to a transmission device and Diegos ears were immediatley assaulted with constant chatter where nothing could be understood. "Been like that all day. Were trying to tell the fleet to change frequencies but we're having trouble getting through."

"Where exactly are we in the process?"

"Further than expected. We have a base layed down and we have managed to get drones onto it to start construction of a few more layers and then the necissary buildings will be transported. The basic ones are being preconstructed and will be put down last. We still need things like sewers and such before we make the city habitable. People can start placing orders for homes and offices in about two months."

"And when will it be totally finished."

Swartz laughed. "Finished? Never. It is a constant process. However, the colonization will be finished in about ten months. Much better than originally thought."

Diego nodded. There was little left to do for the day unless a problem arose, but for now he would go to his quarters and catch up on some much needed rest.

Weyr

<Sandra Mikogami> Well, not specifically at you... But anyway, no, no trouble. It'd be a pleasure ;)
<Sandra Mikogami> Just mention it when I can send it over. Or bring it personally. I suppose that'd be a little more appropriate.
<Sandra Mikogami> If impractical. Looks like you have a few issues, there... Perhaps wait until you're firmly established is more practical...
<Sandra Mikogami> And safer.

Neptune

Disregarding the debris spread in orbit by slightly careless Weyreans - Nobody really minded it, as one was generally capable of dealing with debris - and the surprisingly significant activities of the Largentian colonists, there wasn't much to do. Well, there was S/2002 N2 - It was slowly receiving a new form, becoming entirely spherical while its density changed a little - In favour of a slightly increased diameter.

A rotating mass supposed to manufacture, to allow for a fair amount of habitation, and to shoot across solar systems. Nothing special there, disregarding a few bits of overengineering and a few other bits of casual sloppyness within the construction - Nothing major, of course, but still... Well, surely the toilets would start to work, one day.

House Warming Party

It had taken quite some time for them to organize, and the tugs. They flowed gently through space, the wires hanging out from far behind the vessels as they hauled the modular chunks for the new installation that was to go around the moon. [ooc: I forgot which one, pathetic, neh? :\] The tugs continued their little journey as the two Stiletto destroyers peeled away, a message immediately began to fire out essentially outlining the what’s, who’s, where’s and “Can you baby-sit us?” repeated out until a response from either the Angstians or the Britmattians was received.

The modular chunks that were being towed belonged to the Golden Sunset the second Midlonian Shipyard to be built, it had bays that could effectively build war vessels, however this was not part of the current political agreement and as such it’s bays could only be used to make more Trading vessels, and perhaps manufacture a few more star scouts. Otherwise, unless relations were normalised [not very likely] or the Skeelzanians were forced from the sub-system, there were to be no military vessels built in her. Simple as.

The tugs continued to screech out the message and awaited some form of reply from someone.

The Vorpal Sword was the last of the first batch of five Corporate Cruisers that T.U.S. had built at the Thalassan Yard. All-ready, the Mark II version, with some minor improvements in design, was being crafted in the same construction bays that had birthed this ship and the others. As it was, The Vorpal Sword was the only T.U.S.C.C. active around Neptune at the moment, usually on a patrol that took it around Despina or Thalassa, with a random tour around Galatea now and again for variety.

It took a moment to synch things, but ...

Attn : Midlonian vessels. Be advised that T.U.S. Corporate Cruiser The Vorpal Sword offers to escort you to your destination within the Neptunian sub-system, in support of any other friendly force whom may assist you or in place of any other friendly force whom may other-wise assist you. Please respond ...

- T.U.S.C.C. The Vorpal Sword

In other words, if they wanted an escort, they could have one. While if they wanted The Vorpal Sword to come along, even if some-one else was escorting them by the time it got there, that was fine too. Midlonia was a member of a certain alliance, after-all, and since T.U.S. was friendly with a member or two of which, it shouldn't hurt to be friendly with another, just for the sake of being friendly, even.

ATTN: The Vorpral Sword, this is Tug leader Ulyssis acknowledging your signal, co-ordinates for the destination is shown..now. Approach when you're ready, Ulyssis out.

The hulls of the tugs flared slightly as a course correction was made, behind them a few seconds later, the modules flared and followed their nanny along the same course, a rough copy of the route was sent to the T.U.S. cruiser and the trio of Tugs continued at a steady pace, the wires trailing spaggetti like behind them into the ether. The three large portions of the station floated behind, their modular design showing off some of Midlonia's engineering techniques, ok, it wasn't exactly anything brand-spiffing-new but it still looked rather impressive all the same.

Attn : Tug Leader Ulyssis please be advised. We are now making our course correction as you've provided. Be aware of pending local-space event as we are activating our trip-drive. We will be in close proximity to you all in a moment, Ulyssis ...

- T.U.S.C.C. The Vorpal Sword

And, a moment later The Vorpal Sword had torn a hole in space, fallen into it, and dropped out of space near the convoy of tugs, and had then taken up position beside them as they crossed local space. Simple enough a process.

One of the wires on the tugs snapped and fluttered lazily about before just being dragged behind, it didn't really matter, there were plenty such cables hauling the chunks of station/shipyard behind them., it just meant a couple of thrusters would have to work slightly harder, nothing big or special.

Hail there The Vorpral Sword, this is Tug Leader Ulyssis, good of you to join us on our little road trip.

The tug's onboard computer vectored a slight correction in course again and ordered incresed thrust power to thruster number 23 of section C of the Station modules. It seemed that this was simply going to be a quiet journey with the T.U.S cruiser trundling with them.