NationStates Jolt Archive

Taratat snarled angrily. He was having a horrible morning, and, to make it worse, a foreign officer was coming to his warcruiser, the Tortured Soul, and he was not prepared to recieve him.

He slammed his fist down on a control pad, which was, luckily, built to serve the erratic captain's spasms of anger, as he so often had. He had been waiting for six days in port, and the fat little officious port officer had dared, had dared question him, and search his ship, stripping Engineering, and messing up his cargo bays.

He opened a small container, and popped a white pill into his mouth. The chemical imbalance that was present in his body began to settle, and he began to feel very... equitable.

He already had the orders, but double-checked them, in order to make absolutely sure that he had them correct.


Captain. You are to receive the Labule officer, and then take them on a general tour of the Realm, showing them the basic technology, and defense layout we have. You are then to hunt down the pirate frigate Malady, in Sector 73.99. We have a beacon on the ship, so it should be easy to track down, and impress the Labule officer. If you make us look bad in front of an ESUS nation, it is likely that you will want to end your own life before we get to you. For this means, we have given you a rusty hammer. Next, show them a general lockdown on Zeres, and get the shuttles armed, in order to show them how quickly our defenses can respond. I have a huge private bet with a Xanthalian, don't make me lose my money...


He sighed, and order yet another routine check on the engines... If anything went wrong, well, he was sixty, and really wasn't cut out to be a private again...

Cassie Wimbledon rides alone in the Labule Calicke, only the ship's single pilot with her on the vessel, and he seperated from her by the cockpit door. Cassie is nine years old, just over 29 in Earth years. She is human, just under 180 centimeters in height. She is not slim, but still a healthy weight. Her rounded face, short gelled hair, and well-toned muscles are not what would generally be considered attractive, and her lack of makeup speaks of a woman not concerned with her physical appearance. She is a competent officer, well-trained and well-liked among those she serves with. Since completing her education she has been in the service of the Alphin, first as a low-level diplomatic secretary under Wazuka Isayama, transferring to the military shortly after Frederich Dahy took office. She has been serving as a sĕnmon aboard KLZ-563, a Hokäl-class starship, for the past year, and accepted a temporary transfer to the Realm Fleet last month, leading her to her present journey.

The Calicke emerges from planespace almost precisely on schedule, only two minutes early, and immediately moves towards the station rendezvous point. Cassie smiles, looking forward to the rare opportunity she has been graced with, and anticipates what is to come. Meanwhile, the pilot contacts the station at which the Tortured Soul is docked, speaking in Galactic Standard. "This is KMLZ-478, carrying diplomatic military exchange officer on behalf of the Xanthalian Labule. We are coming in to dock. Please provide necessary data and inform the commander of the Tortured Soul."

We are prepared to receive the Labule officer. Please, come aboard.

People scurried around the ship, waiting for the arrival of the officer. The training module was set up, the control indoctrination as well, and everything seemed to be excellent. Amazingly enough, the overproud Emperor had reworked the entire ship, and poured money into it, not wanting to be seen as cheap to his allies.

Almost fifty crew members stood on the ramp, waiting for the exchange officer to arrive. The captain swore indiscriminately at everyone, and then ran towards the communicator.

[Data Transmitted]
[Please Come Aboard Ship]
[Please walk at a velocity of no more than 6 km/hr while moving up the ramp]
[So your vital needs can be established]

A small device embeds itself on a track near the exit of the ship, a comfortable seat upon it. These "Trunners", as they are called, are excellent, adjustable transport throughout the station.

The green-and-purple seats adjust to fit their owners needs, and the relative impatience or wish to go slowly sets the speed. Along with this, it moulds itself to the user's shape, and is possible the most comfortable, albeit expensive, single-person ground transport in the Realm.

The station itself is motley, being a civilian station, and all manner of aliens and the like reside there. However, none of them dare to speak loudly, and, indeed, they seem somewhat hushed.

Further inspection would reveal both cameras, turrets, and electrified walls and floors, although few of these are revealed to the unwatchful eye...

OOC: That's hilarious. The Emperor is really conscious of officials' impressions of the Realm, isn't he? I'm taking a bit of presumptive liberty in the post below. Feel free to reprimand me if I mess up.

IC: Cassie exits the shuttle after it docks and uses the transport chair to carry her to the Tortured Soul. She would rather walk, but considering she does not know the way she conceeds to be guided. She arrives at the docking ramp and walks up it slowly, noding somewhat uncomfortably to the large numbers of crew standing at attention along either wall. When she reaches the Realm ship, she bows formally to the captain then salutes in the Labule fashion, placing her fist to her chest and addressing him in Mirfakan, hoping he knows her native language or, more likely, has a translator with him. If need demands she can speak Galactic Standard, but her proficiency in the galactic language is sub-par at best. "Senmon Cassie Wimbledon, alm Labulal Xanthalal, partios to kufazet." "Lieutenant Cassie Wimbledon, officer of the Xanthalian Labule, reporting for duty."

OOC: Bump. If there is no reply to this thread within one week, I will cancel my involvement.