NationStates Jolt Archive


The Slow Rebirth of a State

Wazzu
17-03-2006, 12:01
Sol, Mars, Southern Elysium, Wazzu Foreign Affairs Center

"I can't believe your keeping a lid on this! We could be saving lives right now!" Gaea Biosystems Researcher Dr. Bradly Jeffers was less then pleased at the mement.

"You mean we could have foreigners buying up our resources, our companies, your competetion?" Foreign Affairs Officer Alfred Wayne tacked on the last two words without so much as a blink. "Or is it an Ortagan attack you want?" those words definately came out in a more accusitory tone, though both representatives knew it was not true. It was however most certainly a threat.

Dr. Jeffers got the point, and didn't have to show he didn't like it. He showed so anyhow. "Don't pretend to hold all the reprocussions. When people learn you didn't let us tell the-"

"The people will live," Wayne cut Jeffers off, "and to be honest, we've enough large problems that they won't pay too much attention. Sure, it'll be interesting that there was no plague, that it was all inherited genetic disease, but they will be too glad it's over for now and worried that it doesn't happen again to target people in my position. Unless of course they are directed..." The FAO's tone got accusitory again, "I think its best for both of us not to play that game."

The GB Researcher felt steam comming from her ears, but stayed silent. It was a truce she could not afford not to take. "You will let us know when we can release this information then?"

"Of course!" Now a smile spread across Alfred Wayne's face, as if the whole conversation never happened. "You'll be the first to know. Really, it was quite an achivement, and I'm sure it will earn your new company quite a bit of face value. I am very glad you understand Doctor. Now, if you will, I'm a very busy man these days. Have to keep those other nations out as we rebuild and all. Good day!"

"Yes, good day." Dr. Jeffers replied, and left the office still slightly shaking.




Raumreich Space, Praecipua System, Planet Kif, Regent's Throne Room.

Therian Regent Aan listened to the reports of his advisors, the news wasn't good. There wasn't any rioting, nor demonstrations, nor even quiet protests, but production was down and dropping. The humans were getting lazy, and fled or faught back rather then worked harder when he sent down harsh reprisals. "WELL?!" he asked the various lords sitting around the table, "Any suggestions?"

For a moment, all was quiet, everyone seemed to be as frustrated as the Regent Aan himself, and no one wanted to become the object of the interm sovereign's creul eye. The Regent wouldn't rule forever, but he had enough power now for that not to matter. But eventually, one did speak, and the voice was that even Aan wouldn't strike.

A small, old, weak Therian stepped from the shadow of a corner. In ordinary Therian life, it would have been practically worthless, but this one had attained a certain respect, not for itself but for the spirits of those it carried inside it. "Yes Regent," the frail religious vessel bowed low in great respect, "the ancestors have a suggestion."

The Regent himself bowed back...low...even the Emporer in his time would have to respect the Emissaries, even if they didn't take their advice. And when Aan heard the suggestion, he himself considered doing likewise.

"Humans would best know how to control humans." The small alien announced, "The spirits suggest we give a few land and title."

Give those animals equal status?!?! the thought rang through the head of most every Lord at the table, though none dared say it aloud. Instead, one voiced another question. "Tradition requires sight and power of our nobels, do the Terrans even have such?"

"Funny you should use the Protoss term," answered another, "Some that we call human do, as do some of their...varient subspecies. It is often associated with insanity."

Many laughed, such a thing would not be tolerated in Therian society, any such being would be mercifully killed at birth. The Regent Aan for his part did not. Leaning back on his tail, he thought for a moment, and spoke up. "A control mechanism." His eyes burned.

It took the others a moment or two to catch on, but catch on they did, for this was the Regent Aan's council, and like their master the lords themselves were manipulative and dark. Had the Therians of any other ship been present, it would be likely they would find the impression that filled the room less then desirable.




Yalta, 0.5ly From System Gravitic Center, 60 Degrees Below the Ecliptic

Therian Shiplord Krtss looked out from the bridge of his ship, but could not see the misshappen fleet around him but for shadows against the many stars. This far away from the system, there was too little light for eye-turrets to catch reflections, and it had been long since he'd seen the last wave of Protoss warpings.

"Shiplord," an officer hissed in the alien language, "the Protoss report they have rejuvinated."

"Very well." Krtss dismissed in his own language, then spoke to his human companion in strange English, "You sure, these Valinon know we here?"

"Their leaders know, and assure us they will call when we are needed." an old General Raven answered.

"Soon, may-be," Krtss returned, "May-be best you go back your ship."

The old General nodded agreement, but took the dismissal. Really, he was an administrator, not a warfighter, it wouldn't matter where he was when the battle started, he wouldn't be commanding. But perhaps anywhere was better then in the way.

So Raven followed his escort back to a small bay, and left the venerable Therian warship.
Wazzu
19-03-2006, 13:22
Sol System, Mars, Southern Elysium


Khristian Scientist Kale Drake looked over the Chasma Dominia "ProdClone Unit" with some amount of pitty, and with some amount of disgust at his own disgust. "Poor bastard couldn't even think before himself when something else deigned to take that away," he muttered, "God be merciful."

"Whats that?" his assistant, Loraine Sands asked.

"Err, nothing." Drake responded grufly, "Just feel sorry for him is all. Cloned, labotimized, mind controlled. He never had an innocent childhood, never had an oppertunity to love, never had the choice to do God's will."

"Do you think we can give him that choice?"

"I don't know, I just don't know. If we take out all this wiring, maybe with guidence he could live a simple monk's life."

"Lets hope so," Loraine said with sympathy, "because there are a lot more where he came from."




******
******

Brenard's Star, Megan's World, Surface Colony 5


Dr. Candice Fletcher looked over the corpse, wondering how anyone expected her to figure out a cause of death with the antiquated tools available in the colony...especially considering the alien flora and fauna outside. As if the unbreathable atmosphere wasn't enough! the thought crossed her mind like a firestorm, though she knew had she stayed behind in Sol she might well be dead.

"Curses! He may as well have fallen in a pool of acid. I'll never figure this one out!"

Then the thought occured to her, a step above mere existance. So simple! She covered the corpse, took off her coat and gloves, washed her hands, and wrote a note with a simple pencil on a simple peice of paper.

Lobby Magistrate to form exploritory teams.



******
******

Sol System, Luna, Derkesthai Complex

"Well, it's ten past," announced Oren Moore Inc. spokesman Lisa Hapsburg, "I have to imagine that everyone who is comming is here already. If not, we can't wait for them anyway."

"Perhaps now you can tell us why we've come?" asked Lucas Gebbart, Lisa's counterpart in TransCorp.

"Yes, sorry." She said, "I think we all understand we had to meet before the Regent takes our assets here as well, but we couldn't risk tipping him off...."

Nods followed Lisa's words around the room, but Lucas kept initiative enough to speak the next obvious question aloud. "Both of our companies, and others here have fractured. If we write off our losses, and accept competition from our former branches, what's to ensure he won't just just take us anyway?"

"Nothing," the word came from a spokesman of one of Luca's companies former assets, Jammie Lodds was spokesman for the newly formed Integrated Dinamics Ltd, "but if you fight us instead you'll guarentee him."

Tension filled the room as the two traded looks that sharpened their soft words, but Lisa wasn't about to have it. "Enough." the words were again soft, but definately held authority. "The Therians are consolidating power, the Protoss are consolidating power, our own buraucracy is consolidating power. If we don't shape up, they will consolidate us. If we want continued buisness, cheap labor, and our own control of our own companies, we don't have a choice. And we all know it, or we wouldn't be here."

Jammie looked smug, Lucas gritted his teeth, but both stayed silent.

"What do you suggest?" This time, the voice came neither from Jammie's cohorts of newly independant companies, nor from Lucas' collection of old school mega-corps. Rather, it was the voice of a company newly formed from scratch, Gaea Biosystem. Adiir Mahew sounded considerably more calm, though it still seemed as if something else were grating on her.

"We once had an Executive Council that kept the nation under our control, I suggest we start it up again." Lisa Submitted.

"And of the companies not here?" Jammie and Lucas asked at the same time.

"They can join the Advisory Council, or stick it out alone. We'll leave it to them...."
Wazzu
16-04-2006, 08:56
Praecipua System, Kif, Outskirts of Imperial Capital City Thraka

Johanas Marker looked upon the line with disgust, not all of it directed away from himself, and more then a little of it a poorly disguised self pity. Was it really all that long ago that he was a young man, quickly working his way up through the TransCorp corporate ladder? Was it really all that long ago that he became a scape-goat and was fired, never to be able to find employment again? Was it really that long ago that he moved to Kif to get a new life, that the plague hit and made life hard, that the Therians came and made this world, and Marker himself, theirs?

Marker looked at his hand, the wrinkles, the now thick calluses, the sun-bleached hairs over the sunburnt skin. Maybe it was so long ago. he thought to himself. But then he turned away from himself and once again looked upon the valley with disgust.

Not far away, people formed a long line, snaking out of an unfinished mansion, and coughing and jerking it's scales made of dirtily clad humans. The whole thing stunk of poorly planned bureaucracy, a "all-in-one-day event" thought up by a new human "noblewoman" installed by the Therian authorities to help keep order. Marker had to admit, if all the humans were here trying to beg better jobs off their new landlord, then they weren't out mixing and brawling with their Therian counterparts, at least for today.

God only knew what tomorrow would bring though. The Therian surfs were landing day by day, comming out of their great worldships in orbit to populate the new capital, and fights between themselves and the humans were commonplace. The Protoss seemed to be doing their best to keep the peace, but it hadn't been enough thus far.

Marker's thoughts returned to the line in the valley below him and he began to wonder how HE would avoid manual labor. For an aging man like himself, 16 hour days on the farm or in a factory were a quick way to death, especially without the life-extending medicine people here no longer had access to.

Did he really want to sell out? Give the Therians all his knowledge of Dominion technologies and design practices? No he thought, that would only quickly end my own usefullness, and I'd soon be back here. It was not an appealing option. But if I kept my knowledge to myself....

Johanas Marker got up and headed into the human part of town, away from the line. Standing at the end of line now wasn't going to do him any good, and he needed time to think his new plan through. It wasn't going to be easy.

-----

Johanas Marker: http://www.members.cox.net/sincityraiders/images/People/JohanasMarker.jpg