NationStates Jolt Archive

...was it? Thought the elder scribe as she ran her long black fingers over the scrolls on the desk. So long ago, and being reduced to this. So many mistakes. And yet, now, we have a chance to right at least some of them. Today..or is it Tonight? shall be a time of happiness and celebration, assuming that there is something left to inhabit on the surface... She rests her thumb on the end of one of the scrolls before her, and begins to read to herself in the ancient tongue of her ancestors, being one of the few of her race that still remembers it clearly...

Documentation of the history and technology of the peoples of Tsalinoth, three days after civil unrest began.

(1): Technology: General building styles and city planning.
With sloping tops and sides, including various bright colours, most buildings are what some would call 'eastern' in fashion. Those that are underground are often labyrinthian complexes and temples to the many gods and godesses. Cities are without exception built around the main two temples to the chief god, Asi. The reason for two temples instead of the more traditional one in other nations is that there are two competing religious factions, absent of infighting and strife until three days ago. In a general spiral pattern, with the most important buildings surrounding the temple, then the residential area's, and lastly the industrial complexes.

(2): Technology: Level of technical expertise in all area's.

The general technological level of the nation can be compared to the vast majority of other modern nations, with the exception that we have had a prime position in the realm of experimental space craft. Indeed, the position of one of the top faction leaders on our first faster than light craft was the cause of the bombing that started this unrest. Speaking Military wise, we can be lumped into the same general category of 'modern'. Weapons are projectile based, and armoured vehicles are few and far between. Personal armour, however, is relatively advanced, due to our position atop significant hardy metal deposits. We have less than desirable medical technology, due to the current governments pushing aside this issue in favour of education and religious ones. Automobiles were scarce, even before the unrest, in part due to successive governments wise investment in public transport, and as such, lack more advanced power sources.

(3) Culture and Health: Society of the land and people of Tsalinoth, including basic anatomy.

The majority of the population, being what is referred to as dark elves, include themselves among the two aforementioned religious factions. Though often dark in nature, mostly because of the vast amount of so called 'blood cults' that are to be found, bazaars and the minority muslim community provide a more colourful side to the nation. Physically, the people range from five feet to six foot four, though the latter is very rare, and most often confined to the females. Skin colour ranges from very dark to purple and dark blue, though the purple is confined to those populating the underground. Noone is ever 'fat', due to their species inherent strengths, among them the typical broad disease immunity to be found in elves. This being another reason for the sadly lacking medical framework.

(4) Final notes on current political and religious climate.

I, Asirnoa, being assigned to write this history, because of my lacking membership to either of the religious factions, feel compelled to add one last thing about the current infighting before I flee for my own safety to the underground. I cannot stand to see sisters fighting sisters, mother against daughter. This is happening all across the nation, because of the never to be sufficiently damned attack on our first faster than light spacecraft. Noone has claimed responsibility for it, and thus everyone is accusing everyone else, to the point where, as I glance at the news, that there has been a bombing of one of the main city temples!. Such atrocities cannot go unpunished, though I fear for my safety, and flee to the purple skins underground. If this continues for much longer, I fear there will be no Tsalinoth left to save...

Asir looks up from the scroll and draws a long, lasting breath before turning her eyes to the one thing of pre collapse technology that survived these many thousands of years of isolation and hiding. ...To think that I am the only darker skinned being left in this filth covered underground, though that matters not considering our circumstances. Most of us being somewhat brighter purple, as well. And this contraption is meant to broadcast our plea's for help across the world...We as a race, and as the remnants of a nation can only submit ourselves to the generousity of any foreigners that may still survive above ground...

She leans down to collect the 'contraption', and heads off to join the others, being met along the way by her assistant, the young(for their kind) and ambititious Caela.
Caela clutches the many books that define her profession, and, despite the unwieldly amount of reading materials clings to Asir like a spoilt child. This dirt, this filth, I can stand it no longer. I have to leave this place nooow!
Do not worry, Cae. For soon we shall be free of this unforgiving hellhole that has plagued our people for so long... Remarks Asir as she, and the rest of her party finally reach the great metal(and dirt laden) door of the underground. Here we go...All of you have worked towards this day for your entire lives, and you shall not go unrewarded! For this day is the day our race is finally free!

~~~~

When the last of the party had dragged themselves out of the pit that was their home, and adjusted to the searing light, Asir knelt to the ground and set up, very carefully, the transmitter. She uttered a few words in ancient Tsalinoth, and the device sprang to life, emitting burst after burst of short 'beep!'s. ...And it is done. No longer do we have to deal with the rat infested hole that used to be the temple complexes of our ancestors! For now we forge a new destiny, and bring ourselves to the glory that was Tsalinoth!. Everyone cheered enthusiastically, for they had been waiting and working for this moment for their entire lives. The message sent by the transmitter, the message that people around the world equipped with suitable recievers would be getting, amounted to...

Hello? Are there any nations out there merciful enough to care for a race of fallen elves? We have been waiting for so long...Please help us...

The message was relayed from several satellites in the endless number of commercial and monitoring systems, and sent through to the nearest Menelmacari vessel, in this case the Menelmacari Gravitic Frigate Tinúviel. The bridge, or rather, command and control centre, was a little smaller than those on most Menelmacari vessels, but most of the components were the same, from the double-sided helm station manned by a single (usually) pilot who rarely touched the controls due to telepathic interfaces built into her chair, to a bank of communications experts who ensured that information reached the Ciryaaran and his senior officers, and flowed adequately the other way.

Áracálë was in the habit of wandering around the C&C most of the time, rather than remaining at the commander’s station as was the custom with many of the more conservative officers. The elf leaned over the back of the communications officer’s chair as he listened to the message.

It was translated not by conventional means but by a ‘magical’ device inside the communications systems of the vessel, integrated into optronic systems. “Replay,” Áracálë said, cocking his head to one side, and the message, cleaned of static, played over the speakers again.

The screen before them showed a few rough characteristics of the equipment used to send the message. “Record the message and forward it to Taniquetil, and resend this,” he was cut off by a look from the communications officer.

“Sir, we can’t send a signal back to that device at this range without burning it out. We’ll need to be fairly close, seventeen kilometres, with line of sight.”

Áracálë nodded to the helmself and she delicately touched a black trackball, spinning the ship as the destination appeared on one of the displays at her station, and made a few adjustments with a group of three axial sliders, then twisted another control, applying thrust to the ship, bringing it down into the atmosphere below.


Minutes later, the ship hovered on the horizon of the apparently unclaimed land of Tsalinoth. Though she probably didn’t know it, Asirnoa was being watched from the distant vessel, with her and her companions being displayed life-size on a holographic imaging system normally used for visualising space combat. Áracálë unconsciously leaned down to the communications panel even as he watched the display, though he rationally knew there was no need to do so for the audio systems to pick up his voice, and hopefully translate it before sending it.

“Greetings, this is Ciyaaran Áracálë of the Menelmacari Gravitic Frigate Tinúviel, to whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?”

----
Literal translations of the elvish terms, in case you want to have translation-errors occur;
Ciyaaran: Ship King
Áracálë: Dawn Light
Menelmacari: Swordsman of Heaven/the Heavens (this one probably wouldn’t come out literally)
Tinúviel: Nightingale

Cae, somewhat shocked that they had even recieved a response at all, clung to her books with a passion, mumbling something obscene in ancient tsalinothian. Asir, however, realised that all of her training was finally going to be put to use, and said a carefully prepared line, tempered by her being extremely nervous. The others in the group sat calmly scattered on the grass, merely observing their ancient homeland. Captain Áracálë, you are speaking to Asirnoa, the chief scribe of the Tsalinoth people. I would venture a guess as to you being here to help us? If so, I thank you in advance, for all of my race. She then added an end to the line of her own making. Would you kindly approach us, so that we may look at the person that has come to help us in our time of need? The group as a whole then began to stare at the sky, looking for their would be saviours, pointy ears shining in the sunlight...

The message was responded to quickly.

"That’s the idea, yes," Áracálë said, watching as the holographic images turned their gazes skywards. "We have already located your position, and will be with you shortly."

In the distance, a white and red object detached from the larger golden and scarlet hull of the spacecraft, a Tercáno-class shuttle. It was an uncomplicated but elegant design, with an aerodynamic grace about it, and no visible means of propulsion. It took moments only to change from a dot beyond the horizon to a full size aircraft circling the gathering of locals.

The craft put down nearby in an overgrown piece of archaeology, which had, no doubt, long ago been part of a building. A hatch at the rear folded down, and a pair of tall helmeted figures in grey cloaks that seemed to take on the colour of their environment stepped down, with glinting white and golden armour underneath. After them, Áracálë stepped out. He, like his guards, was taller than any of the Tsalinoth elves, and he wore a long mane of black hair falling down his back in waves. His complexion was paler than most the Tsalinothians would have ever seen, he gazed out over the landscape with shimmering cobalt-blue eyes, and pointed ears poked slightly out between locks of raven hair. He was not as armored as his guards, apparently dressed in a simple but elegant uniform of red with black trousers and boots and golden trim and buttons. Over this he wore a black cloak with red edges and a golden clasp in the style of an eagle’s wings, and on the left side of his shirt's chest was a golden star, eight-pointed...

The others quietly mumbled about their rescuers and Cae hid behind Asir, still clutching her books like they were her only companion. Asir rose to her feet, after a slight pause, to greet their new friends. She certainly wasn't short by any stretch of the imagination, though she would be only slightly above average height for a human. Extending a long, silvery black hand to Áracálë, she spoke in a commanding voice, absent of previous nervousness, something she had not done in far too many years to count. I see you are dressed for the occasion, Captain. Proper respect is something I have not seen for a long time, and I am grateful for it. There are a vast many things to be done here, and giving our people a home is only the very least of them. I hope you can adequately provide us with a solution? She returns the respect shown to her with a short bow, eager to show to the newcomers that they are willing to do whatever it takes to recover what they have lost.

Áracálë frowned, that was certainly an open and interesting question. “Well,” he said, adjusting his hair a little to stop the points of his ears poking out, it wasn’t that comfortable, in his opinion, “That rather depends on what exact help you want. Giving your people a home, you say?” He frowned, looking around, wondering to himself, ‘What’s wrong with this land?’ Instead he said, “Would you like to come to my ship to discuss these things?”

Asir sighs, and everyone around her bows their head in rememberance. This land...suffered greatly, long ago, and lost its material resources. The remains of our ancestors litter this area, and we would not wish to disturb them, no matter how long it has been. We would prefer to move onto a new place, and start anew. But of course, I will accompany you to your ship. She started to walk towards the craft, Cae in tow, still hiding behind her. Everyone else simply began to scatter, to explore the immediate area, and to pay their respects to the long dead.

The shuttle’s trip back to its mother-ship was short, and it rendezvoused with an open port on the vessel’s underside, floating up inside a black launch shaft, illuminated by several green and blue landing lights, the shuttle ascended into the grip of a complicated mechanism that held it, and moved on rails built into the faintly glowing quartz ceiling of the bay.

This carried it away from the shaft, towards the bow of the ship, and set it down, next to one of several fighter-craft of similar size, decorated in a pattern of brown feathers resembling the giant predatory bird they were named after. The fighters actually had sophisticated optical camouflage, and hence blended with their environment when outside the ship.

Áracálë was the first off the shuttle this time, and Asirnoa and her companion could see the shaft through which the ship had descended closing. In all the bay contained five fighters, and another door on its ceiling, apparently containing a larger ship. The captain was onto the ship before the boarding ramp had descended fully. He had a brief conversation with a young-looking blonde haired elf, with light brown eyes, who, while not as tall as most, had an excellent dancer’s poise to her movements.

She was identified, if one listened to Áracálë, as ‘Yára Vanya’ – fully, Vanya nos Thranduil, the princess of the former Royal Family of Bajon, recently qualified as a naval officer - Yára literally translated as ‘Ancient’ a term that had been replaced in most nations by the rank ‘Ensign’ - from one of the five major naval-officer-candidate schools the Menelmacari Imperial Defence Force ran around the galaxy.

Áracálë passed her a device from his pocket, and she walked over to Asirnoa and Caela. She was dressed a little more practically than the captain, and though her uniform was similar – with the golden star on her left breast – it was clearly made of different, more practical materials, with a delicate but functional metal connector at the neck for some form of helmet.

“Hello,” she said, as the other three persons from the shuttle wandered off back to other duties, “The Ciryaran asked me to take you to somewhere more comfortable to talk. He’ll be with you shortly.” She turned a little way, and walked towards the doors, as two other members of the crew started the process for stowing the shuttle in the hangar deck above.

The whole experience of approaching and boarding the ship was certainly overwhelming for anyone who had lived in a virtual hole for several thousand years, and for Caele, it only pushed her to hide even more. Asirnoa, however, merely reassured Cae of their safety and otherwise kept quiet as they were lead through the ship, taking in the sights on the way.
She was a very busy woman, and had only put aside so much time for this occasion, hoping as she was that she could cease working so much from now on, though she knew in her heart that the real work had only just begun...

The local elves were led out of the landing deck, and along a short corridor, past what appeared to be sleeping quarters. While the ship had lifts, there were also extensive staircases. Turning left through an area where a warm inner wall illuminated the silvery-quartz corridor, transparent ports showing conduits of something that shone a bright white light through. At one of these, the port had been removed, the channel inside deactivated, while a crewmember worked busily at it, apparently replacing a burnt section of tubing inside.

The central corridor following was carpeted in red, with more of the same materials making up its rooms. It extended for a considerable portion of the ship’s length, with around fifty doors off each side, each about two point five meters wide. Some of these doors were open, and revealed the alarmingly spacious crew quarters inside. The Tinúviel had the same size crew as some of the older Maglor and Maedhros class frigates, but considerably more internal space to dedicate to transport capability, and comparatively luxurious personnel quarters – private cabins for every member of the crew (though these could be comfortably doubled, and even tripled, to carry extra passengers).

This corridor, however, wasn’t a single area, in places, it branched, and at regular intervals, every five doors or so, it had internal bulkheads, in the present situation, thick silvery bracings about two feet thick at the sides of the corridor that, if one was perceptive, could be seen to close by chromed rails visible through gaps in the carpet. Vanya hopped up another flight of stairs, each step illuminated by a soft yellow glow, after they’d walked about fifty yards down this corridor, revealing another, similar corridor behind them, on the deck above, and bounded with youthful exuberance into a large recreation room.

The room to which Asirnoa and Caele were led was on one of the ship’s lower inhabited decks, part of a larger recreation room that sported five windows of varying widths along its right wall, at an angle of about eighty degrees, looking down on the grasslands below. There were around ten elves in the spacious room variously sitting about reading, watching holographic devices, or in some cases, apparently sleeping on the deeply padded couches, and at Vanya’s gestured insistence, several were shooed out of its rear section.

“Please,” she said, “Take a seat,” A tap of a button on the wall caused a fourth wall to fold out from the inner-wall of the ship. The window itself was around three feet thick, and, though not immediately apparent, it was made of a ‘transparent metal’ – an invention that most people found the science behind baffling and difflicult to understand. Around the room were various sofas and couches, as well as a table littered with books and magazines, mostly in electronic format, and a few trinkets that crewmembers had left behind.

“Would you care for a drink?” Vanya asked, bobbing her head, with its long, straight blonde hair, towards a door at the back of the room, towards the stern of the ship.

Yes...yes of course, thank you. Said Asirnoa, getting to be quite shocked herself. Luxuries, especially ones like this were yet another thing she hadn't seen in a long time. She wandered over to one of the couches and sat down like she had just gotten home from a long days work. She would have said thank you again if it wasn't for her being in a state of complete relaxation. Caele, being unable to hide behind Asir anymore simply sat down next to her, looking decidedly less frightened, which lead her to drop her books to the side and gaze at her surroundings with supreme fascination. Noone could have mistaken them for being anything other than extremely grateful of their treatment so far.

The elf disappeared into the kitchen for a moment, and Asirnoa and Caele were left to their own devices in the opulent compartment for a time. Eventually, the captain, now bereft of his cloak, and another officer entered the room from the side of the stairway. The corridor on the upper-deck of the two had a transparent ceiling, showing a cylinder that pulsed slowly with a wash of blue-white light, travelling every minute or thereabouts from the bow of the vessel to the power nodes and reactors at its stern.

Áracálë tossed Asirnoa a device like the one he’d given Vanya, and disappeared into the kitchen, deducing where the other elf had gone, and shortly after, gave Caele the other translation device, “Keep those with you while you’re onboard please, it’ll let my people understand you.”

Áracálë sat down opposite them, and his minion, whose rank-insignia was identical to Vanya’s, sat beside him, and took out a device that resembled a flat piece of glass, and a pen like object of a sort, and, gracefully crossed a leg, then held the stylus ready. Vanya returned with a tray, setting two ceramic cups of a mint tea down in front of the guests, and a cocktail of some sort in a tall glass; an alcoholic drink not supposed to be served on duty. She stashed the tray in the kitchen again, and bobbed her head as she walked off to return to her station in the landing bay.

Áracálë held his ‘spikey venus’ – named by an unoriginal terraforming engineer on the Menelmacari colony of Eärendil. “So,” he said, “please, tell us, what do you want?” he said, sounding, for a moment, rather sinister as he unconsciously echoed a question that had caused great strife elsewhere and when.

Snapping to attention to take the device from Áracálë, Asirnoa moved into a slightly less comfortable position on the couch, and calmly sipped the tea offered her. Caele continued to stare at the cieling, oblivious to everything around her, short of noticing the enticing aroma of the tea. Feeling somewhat hesitant at the tone of Áracálë's voice, Asir responded in a soft and to her mind, calming voice.
What do we want?...We want security, peace. A sense of being a proper nation, having a better quality of life and being able to live without fear. I only hope your nation can provide that, Captain. As for what we can provide...that is, limited. We have no resources or products to offer you. We have nothing beyond the clothes on our back and the scrolls I have worked for many years to put together. We, as a people, can only rely on your generosity. As to that end, we mean you no harm or bear any ill feelings to your people. However, what I in particular want, is to know you better, as a person. You have shown us the appropriate courtesy up to this point, and that cannot be said of officials from many a nation. I, thank you.
She continued to sip her tea, keeping an eye on Áracálë, and his aide's movements.

Áracálë pondered for a moment, “Security and protection are, believe me, no problem,” he said, “Well, you’ve already said you wanted land. What about food, help with building homes, infrastructure and so on,” he smiled a little, and glanced over to the notes being taken, “what about medicine? Anything really, I can’t decide for my superiors, but it’s best to ask them for too much than too little. And thank you, but I assure you, I’ve done nothing out of the ordinary, yet. But I’m sure I can make time for getting to know you later if you wish.”

Medicine would be perfect, thank you. It was something we failed with even in the old world, I, honestly could never ask for more than we need at the very basic. We have spent so long without even basic things like running water for showers and a dependable supply of food. The two of us you see before you are only so clean and well fed because we have an important place in society, and so get benefits that the majority do not. Though you think you have done nothing out of the ordinary, it is a majorly generous thing for us. She smiled, and her pointed ears perked up a little.
Of course, I'm sure after this you could. The issue of course, is whether I have time to. This can all be decided up later, for now, we have work to do.

From: Ciryaaran Áracálë, MIV Tinúviel
To: Haryon Maglor nos Fëanor, Menelmacari Prefecture of Compassionate Relief
CC: Othaheru Ferinion, Third Fleet Warlord
Attached: Transcripts & Sensor Results.pakge

Please find enclosed the details of the people in this area, and notes of my interview with the (for want of a better term) local leader. I would appreciate advice in further contact with these people, as well as details of the available resources, both personnel and material. I would suggest seeing about acquiring land from the C’tani government, as I understand there is sufficient space on the planet Garm.

----


From: Haryon Maglor nos Fëanor, Menelmacari Prefecture of Compassionate Relief
To: Ciryaaran Áracálë, MIV Tinúviel
CC: Othaheru Ferinion, Third Fleet Warlord
Attached: Details of Conversation with K. of the C’tani Ministry of Foreign Aid and Development, Garmtsal.map3
Interstate Communiqué Code: ENE-PCR-1-2320

Please find enclosed the details of discussion with my C’tani counterpart on land arrangements for the populous, and we have come to the conclusion that (using much of the budget) the purchase of the Garm lands indicated on the map attached will be possible. The main island there is particularly suitable for habitation. In addition, the operations to both move the people and establish them on Garm will cause a defecit in both our budget, and the C’tani budget, beyond planned expenditures on foreign aid for this decade.

Additionally, I deem that security concerns raised by using this land will result in it being necessary to take a portion of the sovereignty that would normally be accorded such a state, specifically, foreign policy would have to be limited, to conserve the seclusion of the Mictlan system. Similarly, a condition would have to be non-aggression towards the other inhabitants of Garm.

Eke, I will see about passing the details of this matter onto third parties whose intervention may be useful in alleviating the costs of the operation you propose.

----

From: Haryon Maglor nos Fëanor, Menelmacari Prefecture of Compassionate Relief
To: High Priestes Elenya Danilahn, The Republic of Turnomess vor Odessa
CC: Othaheru Ferinion, Third Fleet Warlord, Ciryaaran Áracálë, MIV Tinúviel
Attached: Transcripts & Sensor Results.pakge (Int’l Version), ENE-PCR-1-2320 (plus attachments)

Greetings to our friends in Turnomess vor Odessa, we hope that our message finds you well. Bearing in mind your relationship with our [collectively speaking for my necrontyr counterpart] nations, and well known good character, I forward details of a situation our agents have recently discovered in comparative proximity to you, and details of the actions we have so far discussed with the aim of alleviating distress in this region.

If you wish to participate in whatever programme of aid is eventually decided upon (at the moment, we feel that as well as extending the offer as a courtesy to our friends, we do not presently have sufficient manpower, in part due to the recent escalation of the alert level of the MIDF due to interstellar-colonial matters) I urge you to contact this office (either in person or through an intermediary or subordinate more directly related in her¹ employment in such matters) to discuss the matter further.

----
OOC:
¹ Not an unwise assumption, given the gender ratio of Turnomess vor Odessa

While Asirnoa was droning on(at least by Caele's standards) to Áracálë, she looked boredly around the room, eyes eventually coming to rest on him, becoming increasingly interested in his features, and eventually began to repeatedly poke Asir in the side.
Asir shifted uncomfortably mid speech, and halted for a second.
"And as we finish this conversation, I feel the remainder of what we can impart to you can be dealt with by my rather insistent friend Caele here, and there is much work to be done back home now, anyway. I am glad to have had the opportunity to talk with you, and to give my people a new chance to live their lives in peace."
She quietly reaches forward and professionally shakes Áracálë's hand, then gathers her belongings and stands up to leave. Caele shifts on the spot, and stares at him, tapping a scroll by her side.

Áracálë watched Asirnoa leave, somewhat impressed by how quickly the older elf woman had adjusted to the environment. He pressed down slightly on one of his jewelled cufflinks – an extraneous feature of his uniform, which incorporated a skin-tight layer underneath – and whispered into it in a soft voice, giving instructions to have the shuttle ready for her. After this, he looked across the still air of the early-morning (ship’s time at least) light, “So, Caele,” he said at last, rising and stretching, and dismissed the record-keeper with a supple gesture from one wrist – a part of the sign language almost all Menelmacari learnt as children. It was easy enough, once one hit a certain age, to see another elf clearly, miles away, but it was not easy to get one’s voice to carry that far. Hence, even in an age of handheld communications devices with many light seconds range, it was considered a useful skill to have.

“What would you like to tell me,” he finished, taking the moment to finish his ‘spikey venus’ and set the empty glass down just inside the kitchen, the crimson-panelled door, a sheet of iridescent red metal, with redwood forming reliefs on each side, the one that was visible of a long limbed maiden dancing, with a certain flare, in a forest, dark braided hair flowing out behind her, sliding aside obligingly at his approach. He returned and glanced at Caele again, “I take it you’ll be staying for the night at least?” he added.

Chronological note: This post takes place before Siri's, above.

"Why yes, yes I will." Ehehehe., thought Caele. He's mine! "That's quite a beautiful...door you have there." Mumbled Caele as she edged further and further to Áracálë's side. "You dont look too bad yourself. I rather like it..."
She ran her fingers down his back with a soft streak, and whispered ..It's just the two of us in here. Why not have some fun?.. She latched onto his chest from behind and squeezed, hoping to get a favourable reaction out of her newfound toy.
Letting her ears rub against his cheek, she blushed red enough to show even through her purple skin, and practically dragged him to the bed, showing her eagerness to get 'to the fun part', in her thoughts, anyway.

Asirnoa, quietly exiting the ship in the shuttle to return to her literal hole in the ground of a home, winces slightly as she realizes what Caele is probably doing with Áracálë at the present moment. Impatient, scatterbrained woman. She will need to grow up if she thinks she can just grab any foreign official she thinks she wants!. I will deal with her when she returns, but for now, I have organizational work to do.

Elenya was awoken abruptly by repeated beeping of the videophone on her desk at the other aside of her bedroom. The walls, which at the time being looked more, like a down pour of rain in the middle of a thick green forest, which in fact was happening several hundred feet above her head at the very moment, the wonders of technology. She slowly stumbled out of bed wrapping a soft green silk robe around her as she strode across the room; only the lighting being displayed on the wall provided her a means to travel without bumping into something.

Gracefully she sat down behind the synthetic wood desk, adjusting her robe she flipped the monitor inside the desk, nearly forgetting she turned down the volume of the environmental simulation walls as a particularly loud rumble of thunder accompanied quickly by the bright flash of lightning, it must have been located rough directly above the capital. Afterwards she opened the channel and a small elven woman with short black hair stared back at her, “High Priestess, I apologize for the lateness but we have received word from the Allies of the Necrontyr Empire, should I forward it now or wait until the morning?”

“Now would be fine, thank you,” Elenya said as she rubbed her left eye slowly, the channel closed without another word, with a tap of a key the thunder storm raging above returned from it’s silence to it’s full glory.

She stood and stretched staring at the screen as a small window on the screen appeared showing the file being downloaded. While she waited she walked over to the nightstand, again illuminated only by the lightning from the walls. Picking up the glass of water that rested there she brought it to her lips and took a small sip glancing back at the screen, the fire was nearly finished.

She rushed back over to her desk leaving the glass on the nightstand; nearly tripping on things a few times. She sat down muttering to herself as she read through the letter carefully, quickly she began writing a response letter that roughly summed up to “we would be happy to help a friend in need”. To be more Specific that help would entail a large group of preliminary reconstruction teams which would be capable of the basics, getting food, water and shelter up while surveying what was need and where it was needed and small contingent of high guards for security and recon purposes.

Áracálë was most surprised by this behaviour, and frowned a little as she attempted to drag him to the sofa, pulling back away from her, “Err, no,” he said, rather forcefully, but with more than a trace of puzzlement in his voice, “or at any rate, certainly not here and now,” he added. He was painfully aware that the purple elf was attempting to seduce him in a rather public place.

----

From: Haryon Maglor nos Fëanor, Menelmacari Prefecture of Compassionate Relief
To: High Priestes Elenya Danilahn, The Republic of Turnomess vor Odessa
CC: Othaheru Ferinion, Third Fleet Warlord, Ciryaaran Áracálë, MIV Tinúviel

We thank you for your interest in the situation in the Eluaear region, and thank you for the honour you do us in providing such a quick response. We shall see about sending you operational details as they become available to us. With thanks,

Maglor nos Fëanor

Feeling increasingly...active, Caele nonetheless obeyed her newfound prize.
She would have to wait, no matter how much she thought she wanted to move things along. She collapsed on a nearby chairthing, impatiently awaiting Áracálë's ...suggestions, gazing at the charming and beautfiul artwork nearest her..
~~~~
And in the meantime, people began to pour forth from the tunnels and living spaces belowground to gaze upon the, to them, exceptionally beautiful surface world. And directing them all so that they would not interfere in their saviours organization of such a monumental day was Asirnoa herself, doing much as she had for the past several thousand years, only now she could help bring about a great change for her people.

And framing this picture was the majestic form of the menelmacari craft, buzzing with activity and general busyness, full of elves and containing one purple person, getting increasingly frustrated that Áracálë had little time for her.

The Next Day

The arrival of the next Menelmacari vessel was rather showier. Approaching from the distance it glowed as plasma created by the compression of the air before its supersonic passage sloughed off its hull. The ship decelerated from thirty kilometres per second to no forward motion exactly over the entrance to the Tsalinothin compound. The grassland beneath rippled dramatically as the ship shot over it, a patch of the engines’ software that produced the unnecessarily cosmetic effect as it passed over the ground.

The Urulókë cruiser Tirisnér settled down about fifteen centimetres over the ground, managing to do so without disturbing a single blade of grass. Despite the ship boasting large heavy guns on its underside, the entrance to its landing deck was conveniently close to the ground, and it took a few minutes to set up a ramp from the massive forward doors of the landing deck to the ground.

Aboard the Tinúviel Áracálë sat back in one of the elaborate chairs of his quarters, looking at a holographic representation of the other ship’s captain. He frowned a little, “So, what’s the idea here?” he asked, “I’m not entirely sure how many there are, but there must be millions.”

“I imagine so,” the other captain, Mélasoron nos Fithurin, said, “Anyway, I’m here to pick up a bunch and take them to Garm, in order to see if they like it. I’m sure they’ll send some people-movers,” a piece of slang for the MIDF’s altered Vingilot carriers used in mass evacuations and occasional irregular supply runs “to do the rest.”

Áracálë nodded, “I see sir, well, good luck with that…”

The majority of the purple ones followed awestruck onto the ship, with only a few lagging behind, unable to complete their business in such a short time.
The amount of those people were very few, thanks mostly to Asirnoa's superior organizational skills, and certainly not due to Caele, who was still on the ship, waiting for Áracálë to return, ever increasingly impatient. They would most certainly enjoy their new home, for they believed anything would be better than living in their former home, a virtual hole in the ground. The image of Asirnoa directing her people onto the ship was a striking one, and the last of its kind, for such skills Asirnoa hoped she would never need again, eternally tired as she was from the years upon years of leading her people, as much as that meant on living in a filth encrusted hole.

The Tirisnér’s observation deck was a large, single recreation room at the top of the ship, in what was essentially a conning tower, intended to draw fire from the body of the ship, based on the somewhat absurd custom of some nations placing the bridges and nerve centres of their ships in such towers. The massive windows, however, provided an excellent view of the planet Garm as Tirisnér approached.

Her captain was busily talking to the group of elves, “This is the area we’re thinking of giving you,” he said, indicating some cloud covered islands as they descended, “There’s various areas that are highly suitable for colonisation, as well as extensive mineral deposits…” Mélasoron continued in this vein for quite some time as the ship coasted along a few hundred meters above the surface, describing the various features of the island-group to the Tsalinothim, Asir in particular before finally asking what they thought of it.

Asirnoa shifted in place, ever so slightly stunned at this whole showing. Her species had not even seen the sky for tens of thousands of years, much less a clean, and as visually inviting a land as this.
It has...clouds. Cloud covered islands. I have not seen such things on this earth since the cataclysm forced us underground millenia ago. I can not thank you enough for this gift, and mere words cannot express my gratitude sufficiently. And...mineral deposits? Such riches for us to make use of, and we have nothing to offer in return. You have the neverending wishes and thanks of my people, and our prayers shall forever be with you.
She returned to gazing at what would be the site of her new nation, full of hope wonder at such a new direction for her people.