NationStates Jolt Archive

AST Manchuria, Sub-Space Continuum, En-route to Epsilon Pegasi

Amy Keane, Consul of Klonor, sat within her cabin and read. An excellent novel, she was engrossed and oblivious to her surroundings. That had happened often recently, since her little mental pow-wow she'd been more withdrawn than before and more willing to sit in the dark while contemplating the Universe. However, the recessions inwards had happened less and less as time moved on and she was more outgoing whenever she happened to be in public and surrounded by other people, she'd grown more appreciative of the companionship that she'd previously shunned. Just as she was getting to a good part, the heroine was about to arrest the bad guy at a meeting in England on Old Earth, the ship shook briefly and the lights flickered.

What the hell was that?

A normal Sub-Space transition was barely noticeable, a slight internal kick that most people didn't even notice. There was never noticeable vibrations or a disruption of ships systems. Concerned, she approached the intercom built into the wall and called the bridge.

"Excuse me, this is Amy Eio in cabin 7W (She was using her mothers maiden name to avoid the hubub that would result if her identity was known). Can I ask what just happened?"

"I'm sorry ma'am, we're not quite sure. If you'll remain calm we're planning on giving a public announcement within the next ten minutes. We'll tell you what we know then."

"Okay, I'll wait."

True to his word, the Captain made an announcement a few minutes later.

"Attention please, Attention. Approximately seven minutes ago you might have noticed a slight bump as this ship made the transition to normal space. I'm sorry to say that the bump was our Sub-Space motivator vaporising itself, Sub-Space travel is impossible until we can manage to repair it. We'll have to dock at Epsilon Pegasi for longer than anticipated in order to commence repairs, we expect to be in this system for at least a week. I'm sorry for the inconvenience. If you are in a hurry I'm sure alternate transportation can be arranged, if you're willing to wait until repairs are finished we will compensate you for the inconvenience. Thank you for your patience. Have a nice day."

A whole week in Epsilon Pegasi......excellent! I've wanted to spend some time here for quite a while but could never get away from Deneb. Maybe a little vacation is in order. I think I'll wait for this ship to fixed rather than booking a new one.

She grinned to herself as she bent to her book again, frowning slightly as John Nike manages to escape Jennifer yet again.

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Elome Hotel and Resort, Epsilon Pegasi, Associated Systems of Klonor

Amy Keane, still using the Eio surname, opened the door and walked into the luxurious sweet that she had checked into for the duration of her stay in EP. It was a grand room, with a warm bed, Vid access, mini-bar, everything a person could possibly dream of.

Not bad, not bad at all. Of course, compared to the Palace it's a ratty little hovel. But, then again, compared to the Palace the White House on Old Earth is a hovel. This will due nicely for my stay.

Quickly freshening up, including changing into a comfortable and revealing outfit more adequate than the stuffy and restricting clothing she'd worn on the ship, she headed down to the lobby looking for a good place to relax and finish the rest of her novel.

I think a Rory's would do nicely. It's been to long.

Walking down the street she entered the futuristic equivelant of a Burger King, sat down in one of the booths, and started to find out how Kate escaped from John Nike.

OOC: The OOC Thread, please keep all Non-IC chatter there: http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=454986

The Previous thread: Just so you know what she's been through recently: http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=407802

Commander Tienet the finest naval officer of his generation, test pilot of the historic first scramjet manned flight and hero of Pantycellen faced a terrible challange more taxing then any he had ever faced before......

How exactly did you order food in this place and more importantly what was all this stuff?

He thought of the food back home, the tasty uncomplicated food of his childhood and his days back at the acadamy and sighed.

Oh well he'd just have to ask someone and hope it went better then last time he asked someone for help (he still wasn't sure what that purple thing he'd ended up buying was and definitly wasn't sure whether he was supposed to wear it, eat it or look at it).

He turned round and asked the young woman behind him "Excuse me miss could you please explain to me how this thing works, you see i'm new to these parts and haven't quite gotten to grips with everything"

Andrew had just headed into the galley of his small personal transport when the auto-chef's warning light blinked on. With a growl and a wack at the machine to see if he could get it back working, he returned to the cockpit and checked the star charts for the nearest inhabited world.

He pulled out a small cube with a screen and buttons and began playing a game while the ship travelled to the world known as Epsilon Pegasi in the Klonor nation.

While battling the final boss for the sixth time, the little beast was tough, the ship entered the system and he shut down the game, making it necessay that he'd have to re-start next time. After he landed on the planet, he headed toward the nearest resturant, which happened to be a fast food joint. He licked his lips at the idea of good greasy food.

Once at the counter, he ordered a large order of fries and a large burgar and chocolate shake. Taking the tray, he looked for a place to sit down. Seeing a attractive lady, he took a seat at a nearby table, and pulled out a small book so he could both read and discretely check her out.

Robert Davis steps off of the landing yacht, Cerino, at the spaceport, briefcase in hand, and begins his stroll to the street to catch an air-cab. People abound in the place, as is to be expected, and Robert (or Casey, as he prefers to be called by his middle name) has to negotiate through the crowd. When reaching the street he notices a cab and begins to bolt forward to catch it, but as he approaches Amy walks by, book in hand, and he stops as to not plow into her. The whole ordeal goes un-noticed to her, but when she is done passing, Casey's perspective cab pulls away with someone else in it. He then approaches the street again, hoping to catch another. After waiting for some time another cab pulls up, blowing him down with dust, and he gets in, annoyed.

"Take me to the Hotel Grand Marque on 8th and Broadborrough," he demands, sounding slightly impatient.

"Aye thar!" the cabbie shouts out, pulling out like as if being pursued by wild dogs.

"SHIT!" he screams as they narrowly dodge other cars, carreening at speeds that either are or should be illegal.

"Here ya goo, thar, sir. That'll be fitty-tree!" Casey reluctantly pays the man before stepping out and walking toward his hotel. The building is dwarved by the other hotel about two blocks to it's left, and not nearly as ornate. The title "Grand Marque" had been slapped on it to attract passers-through and business men who thought they were important enough to stay in something called a "Grand Marque." Obviously, it had worked.

As Casey approaches the building, he notices a Coffee Hut only a few stores down and decides to grab something before heading up to his reserved room. He knew he could very well get coffee in the hotel, but the hotel didn't offer the few exotic flavors of coffee that he did so enjoy.

When he enters the place it is apparent that it does not only serve coffee, as the smell of hamburgers and just about any other fast food item one could think of is in the air. In the Morning Star, Casey's home and where the business had been founded, the combonation of a burger-joint and a coffee house did not sound rediculous, rather efficient.

He approaches the counter and gets out his wallet, pulling out a business ID with his name, picture, and other information on it. As it turns out, Casey is a Regional Assistant Executive of Accent Enterprises, the father company of Coffee Hut, Banana Republic MS, Helzman Shipping, and a few other companies native to the Morning Star that had franchised all around the Raumreich and even as far as Epsilon Pegasi. Casey's job might sound important, but his pay in miniscule in comparison to that of his boss. It soon becomes apparent that Casey's other motivation for coming into this place is the fact that his coffee is free of charge.

As he turns away from the girl at the front counter (who had just handed him his prized Pumpkin Spice Latte), he approaches the door, which opens automatically to allow Amy in, her book still in hand, but she continues walking past the door to the next door Rory's. He doesn't recognise her and continues through the door before hearing "Sir! You forgot your complimentary napkins!" He turned around at the call of the girl, only to be greeted with the automatic door's slamming on his wrist.

"AH!" He blurts out silently, as he can't really be heard through the nearly shut door. He drops his coffee, which spills accross the floor but is instantaniously absorbed by the jani-clean floor. The door then opens, having noticed it has shut on some sort of solid object, and Casey holds his wrist in pain.

"Oh... sir." the girl says quietly, as to not draw attention to the whole incident. "Do you need another tall soy Pumpkin Spice Latte, sans whipped cream?"

He stared at the girl for a bit before saying "No. I think I just need to get to my hotel room." He turned around and checked in at the front desk, which directed him to room H-32, where he proceeded quickly, opening the door and falling on his bed. Defeatedly, but in a humorous tone, he stares up at the ceiling of his comfortable if not lavished room and declares "This trip is doomed."

Alistair de Corean, gentlemen thief.

It had a nice ring to it, it did. He quite liked the way it looked on his business cards. Not that he actually had business cards, but if he did, that would be on it, in big sparkly holographic letters.

'Maybe I should print business cards,' he thought as he ordered his latte and left the coffee shop. 'People seem to like professionalism.' He sipped his drink.

The Divine Stellar Imperium had gotten too hot for him lately, and his angular face, with its silver frame of hair, was now almost as well known in the Hundred Sparkling Points as Captain Adrik Kazonov. He thought that was unfair. 'After all, I've never actually hurt anyone'.

Still, it was best to lie low for the next 10-15 years. Preferrably as far away from men with nasty weapons and Princes with grudges as he could find. 'Hello...' He glanced up at Rory's sign with a slightly sickly grin. 'I suppose I should husband my resources...' When he had fled from the DSI, one step ahead of the executioner's plaz-burst, he had only had time to grab a portion of his takings and his little tool-case. After he had purchased a small apartment, he still had enough money to be comfortable, but only if he lived frugally. He didn't want to return to his usual course of actions here in case the DSI's Ambassador happened to read the news and notice his modus.

With a grimace that he rapidly transformed into a bright smile, he stepped inside the 'restaurant' and waited to be seated.

Jaril Kestal stepped out of the hotel, the Elome, or something like that. Just because he was there to observe the ordinary inhabitants of the Klonorian Empire, didn't mean his mother would ever dream of allowing him to stay in an ordinary hotel. After all...he was a Kestal, the youngest son of the Head Family of the Second Most Powerful Noble House. Second only to Irvandi, but only because the Queen's husband was of that house. Of course, no House was as powerful as the Marils...but they, as the Royal Family, had a tendency to die, and were thus a small house.

He'd slept from the time the sun had been two hours over the horizon until almost an hour before, as he'd spent the previous night walking through the city, observing. He had been a fly on the pavement, so to speak...impossible to miss because he looked so different, impossible to see because he looked so unassuming.

Now it was time to get something to eat. Not something fancy...the restraunts that catered to the wealthy took several hours, even if one was on his own. Maybe he could try this "fast food" phenomenon he'd been hearing so much about. A restraunt called "Rory's" seemed to be a local favorite. The only question was...where WAS one?

No matter. He could wander around...watch people...

*Almost an hour later*

Jaril sighed, and brushed his shoulder-length hair out of his face. He hadn't tied it back before leaving the hotel, as was his custom, and he was quite sure it was in disarray...not at all presentable. He sighed, looking around.

And then he saw it. A big, brightly glowing sign that said "Rory's."

Finally. His ability to get lost was nothing short of incredible. But he had found it. He got in line, and assessed prices. Inexpensive...and he ought to know the value of a Klonorian Floren against a Kaymirilian El...changing currency had been a pain. But maybe, for future visitors, it would be as easy as switching between the El and the Xukuth, a monetary unit utilized by the neighboring country Orion. If he did his job right...or, rather, paved the way for his uncle to do the job right. He wasn't an official ambassador...too young, too inexperienced.

I wonder if all the vaccines were completely necessary... He mused on his trip to Mithdelmar, just a few weeks before. They had innoculated him against all illnesses that he might run into, and a few they were fairly certain he had absolutely no chance of either contracting if he came into contact with it, or coming into contact with at all.

He regarded the options. Nothing sounded even vaguely familiar, so he decided on the meal most appealing to the eyes.

When he had obtained this meal, he looked around for a good place to sit. He chose a seat by a window, where he could watch the other customers as well as the people on the street.

He unwrapped his "burger" and took a tentative bite. A bit greasy...he might pay for eating this later...but not entirely inedible.

He noticed a rather imposing man that was undoubtedly a foreigner by his accent, and another that was entering the restraunt. He looked foreign to this nation...he also had the air of a petty criminal about him. Jaril hoped he wouldn't try anything...but who knew anything, ever?

He also noticed a Klonorian woman hey, wait a minute, you don't know anything about her. You can't assume where she's from that was quite pleasing to the eyes. She was quite engrossed in a novel she was reading.

He moved on to the other people, but couldn't help but wonder about these others...especially that woman...she had the air of a noble...but why would a noble be out in public like this?

If she's foreign, it may well be for the same reason you are, wael.

Amy was absorbed by the novel, flinching at every blow dealt to Jennifer and grinning at every defeat which fell at Johns feet. When Buy was shot she nearly screamed in pain and when Kate finally called Jennifer she almost broke down into tears of joy. But she wasn't a complete moron and she knew that a woman sitting alone without a single thought in the present was just inviting trouble, so she kept an eye on the restaurant around her. Nothing but the usual families out for a mid-day meal, except for this one guy who kept staring at her and another who seemed to be staring at everything.

Great, that's all I need. I'm here an hour and I already have a stalker or two. Dandy. Oh, well, if they try anything I'll simply bisect them slowly and then cook their lower intestine. For all I know these guys might actually enjoy that, the people here are into some strange things.

Epsilon Pegasi's reputation as a Space-born Vegas had reached even to Deneb, and up into the heights of the Vicegral Palace. Getting up from her tabel she paid her tab and walked to the door, planning on a brief walk through the park before returning to the hotel.

It'd be better to simply avoid these people if I can, the last thing I need is the police after me for the murder of two petty thugs.

As she passed Andrew she made a point of staring in the other direction, sending the obvious signal that she had caught onto his little observation, and just continued past Jaril without any indication she even noticed him.

Andrew realized that the lady was not interested, or at least perfered not to be watched, however discreetly. As he finished eating, he shelved his tray and returned to his chair to read. As he finished the chapter, he decided to take a walk in the park.

As he set out, he contemplated the beauty and majesty of a world. Being a space traveller, from birth, and for most of his life, he found planets of any type to be interesting, from the most desolate wasteland to the most vibrant jungle. He watched people walking thier pets, and children playing games. He noticed two older men playing a game of chess and a few ladies jogging.

Finding a kid crying he bent down, "What's wrong little boy?"
"My kite's got stuck in the tree."
"Which tree?" Andrew asked
"That one, could you help me mister?" The boy asked drying his eyes a bit.
Andrew reached out with his TK and shifted the kite down.
"Thank you mister." The child said as he smiled and ran off with his kite.

As he walked, he noticed the attractive lady he'd been eyeballing at the fast food joint walking toward him, or at least in his general direction.

Jaril noted the other people leaving, but it didn't concern him.

He finished about half of the meal (what they served was at least three times more than he was accustomed to eating, and about ten times as heavy), and then discarded the remainders in the way that other patrons had done before leaving.

He took the map he'd purchased out of his pocket and regarded it carefully. Where hadn't he been yet, at this time of day?

The museums...but those were for the "week-end," when they would be the busiest. It wasn't the "week-end" yet.

The park...yes...and it looked like it even had a river running through it. He turned the map the right way and plotted his course.

He hoped that he would see some native aquatic birds...he'd always loved going to the lake back at home to watch the birds...the herons, especially...but it would be good to see some of the funny creatures he'd seen on more human worlds, as well. "Ducks," or something, they called them.

He walked there leisurely, noting much but dwelling on little. This was a beautiful world, he thought...but in less than a week's time he'd be moving on to another part of this empire.

He might return to this planet, though. He had a total of a year to spend in Klonor before he advised the Queen and his uncle as to what he thought of diplomatic ties.

At the park, he watched harried mothers play with energetic children...too young to be in school...or young lovers arm in arm, out to enjoy the beauty of nature, but more than likely lost in the beauty of what they felt.

He leaned on a tree, by the river, and felt a slight twinge of sorrow in his chest. Only a few decades before, his betrothed had been the victim of a minor epidemic that had swept through the nation. By now, they'd probably be married, with a child. But there was no point on dwelling on that, he thought, looking out over the water.

He couldn't change the past...he could only live for the future.

Casey, after taking a short break to rebuild his confidence in the day, sits up and looks around his room. The walls are red with white trim. The curtains are white as well, and the comforter on the bed is conspicuously forest green. He is trapped in a miniature Earther Christmas. The furniture, thankfully, was a dark, welcoming cherry wood, and the furniture’s design was old-fashioned enough to be to his liking without being too elaborate. Inset in the wall to his left is the Tele-comm unit (at least this is what he knew it as, he did not know what the natives referred to it as) complete with NuSpace and Cable capabilities (free HBO, too), and above the waist-high dresser in front of him is a mirror complete with house-keeping’s glass cleaner streaks on the corners.

He gets up from the bed and approaches the mirror, looking at his wrist for a quick inspection of visible injury. It’s a little red, but that will clear. He then checks out his lightly boyish face for blemishes, his teeth for stains, then his short, semi-side parted, nearly black hair for terrible disruption before leaving the mirror to inspect the rest of his room.

The Tele-comm seems nice enough, surrounded by a sitting area with two chairs and a coffee table and other accessories. Beside the sitting area is a desk with stationary and another smaller computer for writing and such. Over by the entrance to the room is the bathroom area, which is the nicest place of the room.

Everything is marble, different shades of gray and black. Two sinks, one bath not meant for just one person… he wonders why a businessman’s hotel would have a Jacuzzi, then becomes slightly uncomfortable by the revelation of how lonely businessman can get. He quickly moves on.

The shower (separate from the bath) is rather elaborate and he makes a mental note to make use of the contraption later that night to see whether or not it feels quite as relaxing as it looks to be. The toilet area is rather nice as well, though he feels no need to explore it too deeply.

When he is done examining the restroom he steps back into what he now mentally refers to as “the Christmas room” and begins to wonder why he decided to show up almost a day early for the conference. The conference had been moved out of the Morning Star, out of the Raumreich even, to avoid the war at home. Casey, himself, hadn’t been too influenced by the war as he himself grew up on New Hope, which when literally untouched by the Ortagan raid. He feels guilty for being so unaffected by the tragic occurance in Hamunaptra and often tries to avoid the subject both in public and private.

In any case, the Accent Enterprises semi-annual progress conference had been moved to some local convention center, of which he could not currently remember the name. It is written down on some paper in his briefcase and he does not feel like finding it at the moment. Instead he decides to curb his boredom by taking a walk; perhaps scouting out a nearby pub he could visit later that evening or some time later in the week, as he would be there all week for the conference. He has all day, and simply searching for one on the Tele-comm would do nothing but bore him.

He steps out of the hotel doors and decides to turn left, in the direction of the large hotel, and make his way toward what looked like should be a busier district of town where he might find his desired pub.

*bump*

I never bump; but the thread is on life support! Yikes!