NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: Anyone interested in welcome to get involved. If you have any questions about Pilon please refer to my Wiki, link in my Signature.

It has been almost 3 months, and they could wait no longer. Teres Simber was dead, CEO of PPC (Pilon People's Corp), murdered by an assassin who even now still was unnamed.

In the ensuing months Mars was stricken by a world devastating event that rendered the entire planet uninhabitable outside of the protective domes most Martian Cities were built in, setting the terraforming process back hundreds of years. In addition PPC was splintered as various factions, representing competing ideologies, and many of the holdings of PPC, including the Hellas Tunnel has fallen to other Megacorps, namely Genesis Corp, now the largest of all Pilonese Corps...



PNN - In a statement released today after considerable debate in the Assembly, a consensus has been achieved on the matter of showing the proper respect for one of Pilon's most influential business figures in history.

A massive gathering of not just the Pilonese, but all who wish to show their respect to Teres Simber, grandson of Headspeaker Pilias Simber, shall be invited to a special gathering and celebration of life on the Orbital Grand Casino of Mars.

Those interested in attending may contact the Pilonese Ministry of Transportation if they require transportation to the casino. Those who have their own means are invited to send as many as they wish to join in the special day of Remembrance.

ooc: Dang... been busy...

ic: Finally the day came for the funeral. PPC had bought out the entire Casino for the day, and representatives from each of the factions were sent to attend, as well as representatives from each of the other Megacorps, as well as a good chunk of the influential Simbers, including Pilias Simber, Headspeaker of the Council.

Security was even more tight than usual, FTLi was ready to be activated at a moments notice, and would likely be able to cut off an invading fleet mid-jump, leaving some of the ships stranded. Also extra space forces were deployed to protect the casino, in total 75% of the entire Pilonese Defensive Force was activated, it was too likely that someone would want to take advantage of this funeral for them to take any chances.

The Casino itself remained unchanged, resembling two giant Mushrooms with short and stubby stipes that had grown into one another. the Pileus at each end shone brightly with flashing lights and advertisments. Each Pilieus was 2km long. The stipe served as the docking area for the casino, however due to the large number of ships already arriving the casino's transports had begun taking on the responsibility of moving delegations in to the Casino.

Within the Casino was a shower of lights, sounds, and smells, all produced to entice people into spending money at the Casino. Most of the most common forms of gambling were available somewhere within the massive structure, and those who did well were sure to be provided with free rooms to stay in at the Casino. Drinks were also free to those who gambled, as were... other pleasures commonly available in Pilon.

Already 3 attempts by Geneticorps to infiltrate the funeral had been foiled. There were few areas in Pilon more secure than a Casino, afterall the richest men in Pilon owned these facilities...

His Illuminated Serene Highness Prince Caurentin Aeron Drakharn was not a happy Roanian. He had gone to Mars seeking fun, excitement, and beautiful women. He had not been happy when he arrived to find that Darsalin Base was little different from home, apart from there being rather less things to spend his personal fortune on. To make matters worst, the visibility in the Martian atmosphere interfered with his one true love. Flying. He had been about to take off to look at the martian surface from his own 'unique' perspective when ArchDuke Damien had reminded him that ambient radiation and dustclouds would almost certainly interfere with his wings.

So that had panned out. All in all, it was a very irritated Caurentin who had made his way to Pilon for this party. Yet once he arrived, he quickly slapped a smile on his face and made ready to work the crowd. And perhaps have a go at some of those slot machines...

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v369/Roania/Caurentin.jpg

This is an odd situation.

Observation the first, Teres Simber was clearly an important person in the eyes of the Pilonese and therefore protocol and allied decency demands sending someone over to pay properly cordial respects. There had been some debate within the DiploCorps on who to send; Speaker-Rrit was still down with Geraux's Tiger Pink-Eye and so was in no condition to ship out even if it would be apropos to send a head of state to visit a dead business leader. Matted fur despite one's best efforts does not a proper image make for the leader of the Segments and the kzinti. Then perhaps sending Nadjiba was in order; it is an issue of International Relations and sending that Section's Advisor would be quite the statement.

Observation the second, Teres Simber was a buisinessman first and foremost. Normally that wouldn't be too much of an issue, but he was a megacorp businessman. Even the relatively enlightened megacorps in the Trium--KarmaCorp TechSystems, IngolfTech, TME Industries--hadn't quite gotten the Segments over their cultural distaste for such things. Couple that into the not at all real public perception of Pilon's more communist leanings on the citizen level and the average Scolopendran citizen sees Pilon as a autocracy-cum-oligarchy made up of the corporatocrats of the Simber dynasty that's co-opted proletariat labor into willing slaves of the money-making machine. Add in corporate competition that borders on sectarian violence and any Pilonese assertions of "virtual democracy" fall on agreeing ears, given that the definitions of the word "virtual" work well for the pun. With this in mind--the Scolopendran people are still not happy about Pilon and not happy that they've found themselves suddenly bound to them by executive act--sending too much of a statement would be highly ill-advised.

Observation the third, the relationship between Pilon and the Federated Segments is currently solely a mutual defense pact. That suggests that any presence should be primarily military in nature. Very respectful, but carrying the flag on a decently sized gunboat will get the point across. Add to that Shodey's insistance that at least a few of the Pilonese oligarchs are decent blokes and one gets that the possibility of trade is open; curiously, this should actually make people happier given that Segments trade policy requires assurances that workers are not abused and every warm-blooded 'Pendran (and most of the cold-blooded ones too) love finding ways to take money from hardcore capitalists.

http://server106.totalchoicehosting.com/~tpjzdd/albums/Starships/arthropleura_fore_001.thumb.jpg (http://server106.totalchoicehosting.com/~tpjzdd/gallery/Starships/arthropleura_fore_001?full=1)
So, after much debate, the newly commissioned Battlecruiser Arthropleura with two destroyers from the pool in tow finds itself in orbit around Mars immediately after shakedown. It doesn't think it's that bad a mission, which is more than either Trade Advisor Jack Kerrigan or PseudoEmperor Julius Razak can say as they sit in extra seats inside Arthropleura's command room. Kerrigan, the once up-and-coming Legislator who found himself given an executive position once his predecessor Spoilsport's shady dealings came to light (and got him murdered), is a young Caucasian man looking approaching middle age in the eye and wondering where the hell his youthful go-get-'em-tiger spirit went. He wouldn't look out of place in the halls of business sometime in the Early XXth, given his center-parted black hair, penchant for styling pomade, and snappy suits. Razak is the same tall, muscularly lean old man he's always seemed to be thanks to a mixture of modern medicine and the fact no one has any real idea what date it is; he's also the same white-haired old man whose current hard smirk is burning the fold lines even deeper into his face. Those who know him well, like Kerrigan to some extent, realize this is an indicator that he feels out of place--Julie has all sorts of smirks to replace the facial expressions most people have. To everyone else, it's the same no-shit-taking-from-anyone hardass they've seen on the news and loved to death. After all, he did invent the Tactical Fruit Basket to give Ma-tek the finger, and so the 'Pendran people got high hopes when Scolopendran Independent News reported he'd be on board.

As the AeroSpace Directorate naval detachment parks itself a polite distance away, the two executive-level leaders are lead down to a room that, just like its fictional counterpart popularized on television who knows exactly how many yedecemi ago, became a constant fitting on starships to save costs. Whilst the two stand on individual metal-grilled hexagons on the platform--serving the purpose both as slight repulsor grids and making sure individuals stand safe distances apart just in case--the technician (officially a 'Transporteer' rating) reports in a Si'lat accent: "Sorry, gentlemen, but we're waitin' on the bridge to say we're clear to beam you over."

Kerrigan's eyebrow quirks slightly. "Beam? Now see here, I remember studying Heisenberg--"

Razak smirks. "No, it's not that. It's just a displacer that actually--"

The transporteer gets a green light and pushes forward the slider bar. The two men get levitated a few millimeters and with a very softly felt wave of air akin to opening a door into a room just a few millibars off from one's current surroundings

* - * - *

they fall back the few millimeters a few dozen thousand kilometers away inside the Orbital Casino. "--swaps volumes around. No messy reducing-to-energy-and-reassembling, even though the Sunsetti have had that down for years. Oh, here we are." Julius' smirk eases somewhat.

"Serves me right for not keeping up on the tech lit," Jack grumbles.

"Eh, you're in marketing and sales. We don't expect you to."

"Hey now. Degrees in communications with later MBAs are just as valid as technical degrees." From the tone of the debate, they've gone over this enough for it to become an inside joke.

"You just keep telling yourself that... wait, someone's coming. Act diplomatic."

"That's rich, coming from Mister TFB."

"Hush. Respect your elders." Razak smirks in a diplomatic way, something that nearly approximates a smile, while Kerrigan goes into salesman mode with almost disturbing ease. He is a politician, after all.

As most of the foreign delegations arrive they are greeted by Casino Representatives (read Very Attractive members of the opposite sex) who personally escort each member wherever they would like to go throughout the Casino.

Pilonese fashion favors complete nudity, however some of the more liberal minded Pilonese prefer to wear loose fitting garbs, usually of thin, soft materials like silk. They favor flashy colors or sea colors in their clothing and by non-Pilonese standards is fairly revealing, though in Pilon it is considered quite modest.

The Casino is divided up by type of gambling, each level also having a bar and an entire level that is a fine resturant (Currently all meals are free to celebrate Teres' life). There are close to 100,000 Pilonese already in attendance at the Casino (limit for the Facility is 250,000) and since its a party many are sporting the latest in Genetic Augmentations to show off to their friends and other attendants. Some of the more common augmentations include wings, fur, scales, feathers, tails, and pheremone glands.

Everyone seemed to be having a good time, the Pilonese knew how to enjoy themselves and were very open about anything that was pleasurable, which was one of the reasons the Grand Casinos were so popular, they specialized in entertainment.

Every floor sported a different gift shop, selling all kinds of exotic plants, animals, foods, drinks, or other tourist items, including used Dice and Cards (all organic as all Pilonese materials are). The exotic plants and animals were customizable, a common Pilonese trait, to a variety of shapes, colors and sizes.

Each floor also had a Node Access Port where communications, information (Read Pilonese Internet Access) could be accessed and, with a proper deposit, Pilonese goods could be purchased.

The strict security measures ensured that cheating was not possible in the Casinos but they were also renowned for being fair, due to the overall odds in the casino, the ganes brought in plenty of money there was no need to cheat their customers.


Among the distinguished guests in attendance were practically all of the Speakers of the Council (Read Executive Branch), CEOs of all the Megacorps in Pilon, as well as most of the wealthiest citizens in Pilon. In addition most of influential people in the Simber Family had attended the funeral including the Grand General and Grand Admiral of Pilon's military forces...


Issac was estatic when he heard of the approaching Scolopendran delegation. He had always envied those in ToY, and the Scolopendrans were among those whom Issac idolized in that alliance. One day he would see a new Pilon forged out of the old, and he saw close contact with ToY as a means of doing that, only this time he would do it without bloody war or further violence.

He was a tall man, almost 6 and a half feet, and was also muscular, he took pride in his appearance, as did many Pilonese favoring Greek and Roman ideals for appearance, and maintaining a healthy diet and exercise schedule. He wore a long star-silk toga of deep purple with splashes of Blue, Yellow, Orange, and Green. As the lights shone on it the colors swirled like a storm reacting to the different lights. As he stood still the colors slowly moved and mixed with one another like clouds floating across the sky. Star-silk was one of the most expensive materials Pilonese clothing could be made out of, and to have as many colors in it as Issac did showed off his immense wealth, a relatively new result of his influence within Pilon.

He waited with anticipation for their arrival, it was one of the first times the Scolopendrans had come to a formal Pilonese occasion and he intended to make sure they would become a more active trade and dilpomatic partner with Pilon, or at least with him and other reformists in the government.

When the Scolopendran Delegates arrived a special envoy had been prepared. Speaker Issac Malisse, a renowned reformist, was waiting for them along with the usual Casino Representatives. He smiled a warm greeting as they appeared and moved forward ahead of the reps to greet them personally.

As he approached them he raised his hands before him in typical Pilonese Greeting.
"Welcome to Pilon, and the Orbital Grand Casino of Mars. I am Speaker Issac Malisse, but you may call me Issac or Speaker if you would like."

The Casino Representatives stood on either side of Issac and stopped.

"These are some of the Casino's finest attendants, they can get you drinks or food if you'd like, Pilon, as I'm sure you know, is quite famous for our exotic dishes and its all free on this occasion, in celebration of Teres Simber's life. Would you like anything?"

He studied them while straining to control his enthusiasm. He didn't want to scare them off. He tried to give off an air of calm and respect but knew that some of the excitement he felt showed in his eyes...


As Aeron arrived at the Casino he was immediately approached by a female Elf Casino Rep.
"Hi! My name is Istruma, would you like something to drink or eat? Also I can show you the way to any games if you'd rather get right into things." She smiled sweetly at him. She wore a loose fitted green and turquoise that brought out the pearl necklace she wore.
"I have been assigned to you for the entirety of your stay to make it a pleasureable one."

Nudity? Expected, and no different from the usual scene on a warm day in the Segments, although there are less holsters than either Razak or Kerrigan are used to. Being there as diplomats requires that they be dressed up in the usual color-coded charcoal 'Pendran uniforms, Julius' crimson plastron and shoulderboards covered with the markings of his old service and Jack's a deep blue and generally undecorated. Growing up in a culture of nearly wholesale body shamelessness makes their eyes dawdle decidedly less than may be expected of outsiders... although Jack breaks bearing the first time an otherwise normal human female except decidedly more fuzzy and equipped with a tufted lion tail walks by. "Now," he says very softly in Arabic, looking mostly at the woman's feet, "that is not natural."

"Bah," Razak scoffs out of the side of his mouth, "you've seen 'retti before."

"That's not a 'ret. Look at those feet. Arch between ball and heel, walking heel-toe-heel-toe... that is an auged woman, I tell you."

"So she hasn't sprung for neko ears yet. Then you wouldn't be able to tell her from someone from GMC--hello, incoming, ten-thirty." Razak has actually forgotten how to smile due to years of having no particular reason to and so smirks cordially as he moves to intercept, combat boots moving silently over the richly furnished, if organically so, floor. The Trade Advisor follows along, trying to get the psychosomatic sense of things being unusually sticky and squelchy out of his head. That's not so hard. This thing looked like a mushroom from outside, sorta... A quick look up at the vaulted ceiling confirms it; it's a microscope's view of a Hotel Ritz version of the spore-filled folds in the cap of a mushroom.

He sneezes.

The old Mobile Infantryman holds back any look of astonishment as the Pilonese gentleman seems to summarily surrender to him, then replies with a polite short bow and a motion of his hand. "Marhaba. I'm PseudoEmperor Julius Razak of the Federated Segments of Scolopendra, and this is my close associate International Trade Advisor Jack Kerrigan of the same. I already know someone who goes by 'Speaker' so I hope you don't mind if I accept your offer to call you 'Issac.' Most people just call me 'Julie' or 'Colonel,' in return."

Kerrigan is at something at a loss. Either Razak is being insulting or being superfriendly, and at this point, he has no idea which. Something more common to the 'Pendran mind would be 'Speaker Malisse' but that wasn't one of the options suggested by the Pilonese... and 'PseudoEmperor Razak' does sound pompous... not like 'Colonel Razak...' so... Jack forces his brain to reboot and think on his feet. This is not the least comfortable situation I've ever been in; stop acting like it. "And I'm Jack." He smiles. Follow the leader, that's how this game goes; if he insists on 'Advisor Kerrigan' or 'Legislator Kerrigan' he'd look rather pompous so it's best just to defer. Meanwhile, Issac literally radiates enthusiasm; this is a good thing, they both guess.

A problem. Now the DiploCorps would've done their homework and checked to see whether they should be cordially somber or breaking bottles and getting jovially drunk (both had been done in the name of diplomacy). Razak forgot to and Kerrigan didn't know to, so the order of the day is to just fake it. Food was the first thing mentioned, and so food will be the first thing addressed. "Ah, we'd be grateful to share a meal with you, I figure," Razak says with an appropriate smirk, "we didn't get a chance to catch a meal on Arthropleura and Jack here is still a growing boy."

Kerrigan suppresses a sigh and scratches the side of his nose to cover. "Yeah. I suppose food would be a good idea. Can't let good hospitality go to waste, no?" He nearly cringes internally, then applauds himself for not going with his first instinct and saying 'free food' instead of 'good hospitality.' Damn. This weirdness is getting me off my game.

Razak looks around; while with most it'd probably be just a simple appraisal, looking at shiny things and nice curvy things, with him he forgets to not make it a situational-awareness sweep. It's very nice if not ever so vaguely reminiscent of old textbook pictures of what happened to Von Braun. No, that's a bad analogy to get into, Julie. Think of it like the scenery in those old cartoons. Y'know, giant oysters for couches and whatnot. "Maybe we can get a friendly game of some sort in during the meantime." Having exhausted anything he can say concerning casinos in his mind, he glances over to Jack.

Kerrigan takes the hint. "We're new here so it's probably best if you lead the way, Issac." There's just the slightest hesitation at using the Pilon gentleman's first name; he smiles sincerely enough, at least.

Transmission
To: Pilonese Ministry of Transportation
From: MAG-1 Spaceplane (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v293/grunt74/NS1/MAG-1.jpg) "Space Force One" in low earth orbit.
"Hello this is Captian Bellmar of the Phoenix Space Force MAG-1 Spaceplane 'Space Force One' carrying Field Marshall Seville and his entourage.
We are on our way to Mars, however at our best speed it will take us 4 months to get there so if you could give us a lift we would appreciate it."

It took several minutes for the Ministry of Transportation to respond.

Transmission
To: MAG-1 Spaceplane "Space Force One" in low earth orbit.
From: Pilonese Ministry of Transportation
Subject: Transportation Information

Good Morning Captain Bellmar. We regret to inform you that the service will likely be over by the time your ship would arrive at its destination. We will honor your request. As such we have dispatched a ship to dock with your ship and transport your delegation to its destination. We will also return Field Marshall Seville and his entourage when they are ready to leave the Casino. Please expect our dispatch soon.

"We're playing taxi driver?"

"Yes," Flag Colonel Rezart Corbajram replies to the two-meter segmented monstrocity that is the ship's avatar, trying to look severe and failing only slightly with the slight smile in his eyes and the corners of his lips. His Albanian-accented Arabic, on the other hand, is all business. "Since we're here and you're fast, we figured we could help our new allies."

"No need to explain, sir," Arthropleura replies in a chittery and almost schoolgirl-ish voice, holding up a dozen short armored legs ending in little manipulator pincers in a gesture for quiet, "they are orders. 'Sides, it sounds more fun than sitting here waiting for Colonel Razak and Legislator Kerrigan to get back. Can we go best possible speed? Can we?"

Rezart sighs theatrically. "Speed is at your discretion, Battlecruiser Arthropleura, but time is a factor. You have your orders."

"Okay!" replies the battlecruiser, and on the outside the surprisingly sleek spear of armor and sleek gun turrets breaks formation like there's no tomorrow, quickly turning off and seeming to shrink to a point as its drives go into high-distort. "Prepare for jump! Ooo boy, I get to see Mars and Earth for the first time on the same day!"

* - * - *

The colonel leans over and presses the public address button on his console. "All hands, prepare for jump--"

"Already there, sir!" Arthropleura sounds unforgivably pleased with itself. "And dry reports simply don't pass along the feel of how busy it is around here! Oh, by the way, I've detected the shuttle we're supposed to pick up. Lucky us, it will fit in the aft bays. Wouldn't be diplomatic if we were to just displace the vee-eye-pees off, would it?"

"Not at all. Comms, hail Space Force One and tell them they're clear to dock in Aft Bay Alpha. They're also free to disembark if they like but because our ship is so eager it may just be better if they wait."

"You did say time was a factor, sir."

"Well, we'll leave it up to them on whether or not they want to talk to the taxi drivers," Rezart replies, "and I'll run down there if they do."

"What about me?"

"Sorry, Battlecruiser, but I get the feeling a talking two-meter roly-poly might freak them out."

"I am not a sowbug," the avatar pouts. Somehow. Must be in the voice because what passes for the head is still an ugly true-to-life bug thing of rigid plates. "I'm an arthropleura!"

* - * - *

The crew of Space Force One will have no trouble with landing in the bay and, as the pleasant-sounding communications officer over Arthropleura reports, the Field Marshall has the option of staying aboard the spaceplane or disembarking as he wishes.

The Captain maneuvered into the docking bay and set the tiny MAG-1 down on the deck. He engaged the magenetic docking clamps, the same which are used to launch the shuttle in the first place from the 600 meter long track back in the desert, and started to equalize the pressure doors.
"You going to step out sir or shall I'll leave the doors sealed?" he asked the Field Marshall who had walked up into the cockpit while they were landing.
"Yes I think I'll go stretch my legs for a few.. I'll be back shortly" he replied.

Field Marshall Seville II glanced at the sensor display one last time to ensure there was a breatheable atmopshere on the other side of the door and then stepped down off the ramp and took a liesurely stroll around the MAG-1 looking at its wings and the underbody, running his finger along the fuselage briefly, he then looked towards a door which he assumed lead to the rest of the ship. He shook his head and walked back into the MAG-1 and pulled down one of the bunks, tossed off his coat and laid down.

"Let me know when we arrive Captian" he said as he covered his eyes with his hat.

Five minutes or so later, Corbajram cycles through the airlock to the hangar deck and looks around, moving slowly so as to cover up any huffing that might result from his forced march through the ship to visit his guests. Said guests are nowhere to be seen and the ship is buttoned up airtight, so... turning around, he tabs the call key of an internal comms station on the wall. "Command room, this is the Colonel. Looks like they're staying inside. 'Pleura, get us back to Mars at best possible speed."

He doesn't wait for acknowledgement before walking back, a bit more slowly this time. Hell, they may even be back before he walks through the door.

* - * - *

After waiting maybe seven minutes or so, the communications officer cheerily announces to Space Force One that they've arrived at Mars and it's been a pleasure, no matter how short, to ferry them. Stand by for launch in two minutes. So on and so forth, and that concludes Arthropleura's very first foreign diplomatic ferry mission.

Caurentin nodded to the young woman who had come to him, and stetched his wings out a little, nearly upsetting a nearby waiter and a small group talking together. "Oh, do pardon me." The prince said, refolding his wings behind his back. Then he bowed low and took the Pilonese woman's hand, gently kissing one of her knuckles. "So, you're here to help me out, hum? Perhaps you can start by showing me around..."

OOC: Genesis cannot post so she has asked me to post something for her, more from me later...

IC:On many worlds death was a tragedy, an eclipse of something bright as it left this world and passed into something unknown. Genesis Simber found herself smiling as she walked through the casino doors, casually brushing aside the escort who tried to attach his self to her arm. She could find her own way around a casino she had originally helped Pilon People’s Corp (PPC) design and watched the construction of and she could quite certainly pour her own drink. The escort, hired by the PPC for the evening, only smiled and moved to the next guest. Behind her, her son shoved bulky glasses back onto his nose and blushed at the young woman who attached herself to his arm. Genesis paused to take a glass of fruit flavored alcohol from a passing tray and Nathan joined her.

“The Scolopendran Delegates have arrived.” Genesis nodded casually towards the two representatives, taking a sip from her drink and watching as the pair somewhat ogle an augmented woman. Within moments, Issac Malisse had swept down upon the two and started hustling them off. “Unfortunate that we missed the brigade that must have welcomed them here…”

Nathan shifted uncomfortably in the evening coat that he had pulled from the closet only an hour earlier, an out of style looking thing for Pilonese culture that was far too opaque to be trendy. He didn’t seem to notice, though his escort appeared remarkably bare in coral georgette when standing beside him. Genesis smiled and took another sip of her beverage.

“Who else have we missed, I wonder?” The CEO of Genesis Corporation rolled back bare shoulders to readjust the nearly transparent swathe of shimmering blue fabric that served as a dress. Reddish brown hair darkly contrasted the dishwater blonde of her son and the dark brunette of the escort.

“Mother, this is a funeral.”

“You’re right.” She glanced around once more. Business could wait, tonight was a night for more pleasurable experiences.

The Captain put on the red warning light (which indicated that zero-g maneuver was about to occur)and the Field Marshall got up from his nap and strapped himself into his seat. The MAG-1 used its plasma rockets to ease out of the docking bay and then flipped around in a graceful spin and engaged the full force of its thrusters. The spaceplane thenguided itself towards the Orbital Casino and the Captain started a routine docking procedure.

Within a few short moments the airlock was opened by a crewman the Field Marshall stepped out and put his hat back on as he cleared the door.
Following him was two plain clothes KOP (bodyguards), Edward Perez (the Head of State Department) and a random executive aide pulled from the office at the last minute named Anna. The Captain would step out for a moment but he would return and stay with the MAG-1, along with his co-pilot and crewman.

Issac stifled another squeel of joy at hearing his visitor’s names. He had extensively studied every report Pilon had on Scolopendra, and its personality files, several of those filed included information on both of the people now standing right in front of him. Better than that however he anticipated the opportunity to add to those files, he would personally be adding his personal experiences with these people to the appropriate sections, the Scolopendran files were somewhat… lacking, something he planned to change.

“It is a pleasure to finally meet you both Julie and Jack.” As he said this he turned to each and bowed deeply. “I am humbled to meet you both after hearing so much about you. I feel I should explain, I uh… somewhat idolize the Scolopendrans. You are an inspiration to me in my long term goals for Pilon.”

Both of the Casino Reps spoke up then, conversing with the Scolopendrans about what exactly they wanted to eat. As they listed items a tri-vid display complete with smells of the listed food appeared before them. There were literally millions of varieties available ranging from the PiFish, also the national animal, to soylent wafers and a sweet flavored seaweed called remist.

They did the same for drinks, listing not just Alcoholic and Non-Alcoholic drinks, but also a variety of “Substance Enhanced” drinks of all varieties ranging from minor hallucinogens to mixtures that would keep you awake for a week straight. Among the drinks of note was the popular Pilonese Soda called PiFizz, which reacted directly with the subject’s chemistry when they drank it, customizing the flavor.

About them it seemed the party was just getting underway and all around Pilonese were laughing, drinking, eating, and heading off in pairs to more private areas in the casino. Most seemed intent on their various games of choice, it seemed that though the more traditional games were available, the popular ones were a bit more interactive in nature, involving racing, acrobatics, or even physical strength.

After pausing so the casino reps could do their job Issac continued. “Lead the way… hmm… please let me know if anything stands out, personally I am a fan of the more traditional games, in particular Craps.” He pointed at one of the supports on the far side of the large room. “The craps table is all the way at the top of the casino, in a more traditional casino setting set up for international visitors to make them feel more at home. We could go up there if you’d like, or if you’re more interested in experiencing something a little more Pilonese I can find some of the more popular games amongst us instead…”



As the Militant Delegation arrived on the casino they were immediately greeted by casino reps. Two of them looked identical to each other, identified themselves as Vela17 and Vela23. They were both naked humans, one had red hair the other blond hair. Isilwen was an elf, also completely naked, with silvery blond hair and eyes that shone like the stars. Finally came Tova and Lezar, who looked like brother and sister to each other, both with brown hair and eyes, physically fit, and wearing orange silk.

They enthusiastically greeted the delegation and introduced themselves then offered to get food and drink for them as well as telling them about the facilities. Just like the Scolopendran delegation they showed off tri-vid displays of the available food and drinks complete with smells.

Though the females all seemed non-partial to who they served, Lezar seemed intent on serving Anna…



Instruma blushed as the Roanian kissed her hand, smiling sweetly at him. “What are you interested in? Would you like to start up a game while I get you something to eat and drink?” She also created a display of the foods and drinks available for Aeron. “Or perhaps you are interested in stretching those wings of yours.” She pointed into the air where half a dozen winged humanoids were happily laughing and eating as they flew through the air. “Like most Pilonese facilities the gravity here is standard Martian G, optimal for your flying enjoyment.”

Seville looked Isilwen up and down, he had heard about and seen pictures of them but this was the first elf he had met. He kissed her hand and then wrapped her arm around himself and introduced his group. After Seville made the introductions he nodded to his body guards who then took the two Vela girls by thier arms. Perez smiled at Tova and went right over to her. When Lezar immediatley went over to Anna the two KOP body guards looked at eachother with a devilish smile. All executive aids, like Anna, are lesbians, otherwise all of the male "executives" would spend thier days engaging in sexual acts with them instead of doing work, or so the theory behind the hiring process. Anna was a particularly hardcore lesbian who hated all men with a passion... except for her son and his father, who happened to be Seville's cousin...
They looked over the vid screens and smelled the samples. Seville then announced that they were all quite hungry and ready to eat, since they had fasted to avoid space-sickness on the way there.

Aeron did want to fly, and his wings ached for the release. However, he also had a position and a reputation to maintain, and with a simple movement he glided to one of the gaming tables. "If it's all right with you, I'll take the game first." He removed some sunglasses from his pocket and placed them over his eyes, the strong lights and gaudiness of the room beginning to affect his sensitive vision.

He watched the Scolopendrans very carefully at the same time, from the corner of those same eyes. Roanians rarely had reason to have contact with Pendrans, and he found them to be interesting, though he wasn't particularly interested in involving himself with either of them at this moment in time. It seemed too much like work, and if he had wanted to concern himself with that he would have stayed back on Darsalin. I should stop at the coffin and pay that clown Damien's respects for him. Caurentin thought to himself, his interest exceedingly limited. The problem between them was that Archduke Damien was an artist. A con-artist, to be sure, but an artist nonetheless. And Caurentin... was a playboy, a fabulously wealthy young man who unlike his father had never had the humbling experience of working for a psychopath. 'I should find a gift for 'lissa'. He spared a brief thought for his sister, but dismissed it just as quickly. "I'm feeling lucky tonight." He finished, watching the various figures of perfect beauty that orbited around him. 'I'm feeling very lucky.'

Razak smirks, glancing over at Kerrigan. "Jestem człowiekiem i nic, co ludzkie, nie jest mi obce. We could see all sorts of 'traditional' casinos back home or even more across the border in Karmabaijan. Whilst we're here... Kuj żelazo, póki gorące."

"I've heard that people revert to their native languages in times of stress," Jack teases lightly.

Just as lightly, without even looking at the legislator-cum-trade-advisor: "Shut up. This is diplomacy, and native proverbs are appropriate. Got a problem with sampling the local color?"

"Not at all, and even less a problem with giving you trouble every so often."

"I make enough trouble for myself, thankyouverymuch."

Kerrigan shrugs, ending the back-and-forth. "Anyway, that works. Some local food, local culture... that's part of the reason we're here, after all. Learning and, uh, making connections with other cultures." The politician starts to wish that he had some sort of formal diplomatic background, then gets back to it and with Razak discusses cuisine with the casino bunnies. PiFish sounds good, but nothing mind-altering because they're technically on duty and all. They politely decline soylent anything.

Genesis glanced up as a winged gentleman pushed in at the gaming table beside her, his escort trailing behind him with a bemused expression on her face. When she noticed the attention, it quickly shifted back to the standard, everyday smile of seduction and sweetness that tended to follow PPC trained lackeys. She set the drink down on the edge of the table and made a note to figure out what she had picked up upon entrance, it was making her mildly light headed. Nathan had slid into a back room with his escort somewhere, taking advantage of one of the more ‘physical’ games offered by the culture. She doubted he would win, but it was money well gambled.

The man next to her came up winner for the third time straight on the table and she started to pay closer attention to him. Without thinking, she picked up her drink again.

Aeron noticed the attention, but said nothing. He lost some, won more back, and then lost a little again. The Prince smiled slightly. "Your glass is empty, my lady." He said, speaking in his melodic voice. Well, isn't this interesting...

Without even bothering to look this time, Aeron placed his cards on the table (OOC: Or rolled the dice, or turned the coloured ball, or selected the hologram. Insert gambling activity here!). And won again.

"Mind if I fill this lady's glass then?" puured a slick Midlonian voice from behind Genesis, he was holding a bottle of champagne.

"Lord DePimsey of the Midlonian Heartland Corporation." he bowed and then gently grabbed Genesis' hand to kiss it. "And might I say its lovely to meet someone such as you Gensis Simber." he smiled his winning smile, showing the small diamond encrusted in one of his front teeth, the short thin grey-blue coat open to reveal a bare well toned chest underneath, and a pair of thin trousers of the same colour, both items were nearly seethrough themselves.

"Champagne?" he smiled again.

Aeron's eyes glinted. "It's an honour to meet you, Lord DePimsey." He took off his hat and bowed. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Prince Caurentin Aeron Drakharn, of the Divine Imperium of Roania."

Having collected the orders of Seville and his delegation the casino reps scuttled off as a group. They returned about 5 minutes later with the selected food and drink as ordered by each individual member. Lezar, it seemed, had noticed the disliking Anna showed to him and had not returned, however a young gnome woman named Yoz had replaced him.

Yoz was rather slender, with long brown hair that fell forward over her chest and dark brown eyes. There was something about her though, she seemed to gaze through you when she watched you and smiled at inner jokes. She was less talkative than the other casino reps and was extremely reserved for a Pilonese.

The casino reps around the casino seemed to stay at the side of their assigned guest as dutiful attaches, waiting to be given requests. If asked they were very informative about the rules of various games and would also show the way if asked where a particular game was. They also offered encouragement as the game was played, this encouragement, and affection, seemed to grow with tips. Especially lucky winners would also merit the special attentions of multiple reps’. The reps assigned to Seville’s delegation waited, making small talk with their individual guests and even flirting a little with them a little.


It only took a few minutes for the reps to return with the Scolopendran’s food. Issac ordered a large purple flower with broad leaves and a red stem, it was called Douleurouge and gave off a strong bitter smell to it. It had several large cooked beetles as sides and a variety of vegetables and a sweet blue colored bread.

The PiFish was apparently a crossbreed between a tropical fish and a trout. From the discussions with the casino reps they learned that it was one of Pilon’s first genetic experiments, back when the original settlement of Pilon was still in the Burmese Lowlands, long before they had integrated their technology with their environment. It was adaptive to both fresh water and salt water and reproduced extremely quickly, one of the reasons it became such a popular food source for the Pilonese people.

The PiFish the Pendrans ordered were freshly baked and topped with a sweet oil that vaguely tasted of peanuts. A rich brown sauce, something called feudoux, topped both it and the sides that tasted extremely sweet, and there was a third, bitter spice, coloquinte that was bright yellow. The combination gave off a strong initial taste with an after taste that was sweet. On the side were half a dozen small petals from an orange plant, these had been roasted and were crunchy, with a texture faintly similar to onions though the taste itself was more akin to a melon. In addition there were 4 types of mixed vegetables, two of which were commonly known earth vegetables, the other two were both red, though they had different textures, and tasted similar to peas and asparagus.

Like the other casino reps, the Scolopendran’s reps made sure to be very informative to any questions asked of them. Meanwhile Issac seemed more interested in prying information about Scolopendran Culture and lifestyle than playing the games around them. It seemed that Pilon’s records had many holes in their information where the Scolopendrans were concerned, and he wanted to single handedly and systematically fill in these gaps with the tenacity of an Anthropologist who had just discovered a new tribe of people.



After waiting politely for Aeron to finish with his conversation, Instruma whispered into his ear.
“The game you are playing is called Qa’ phar, the rules are very simple. You place your bet and then concentrate on the holodisks in front on you. This is a game of dexterity, disks will flash and you will need to grab the flashing disk before it stops or you will receive a neural jolt. It will speed up as you go and more disks will appear. Each round is 1 minute and you make bets on how many you can grab, the game adjusts based on your bets, your displayed prowess, and the resulting bids of the observers around the table. As you increase your bet the neural jolt increases in intensity.”

She then showed him how to place bets and what the various bets meant.

After several rounds of playing the game began to become extremely difficult, adjusting itself to the Roanian’s dexterity and adjusting the odds accordingly. The observers were now rooting for the newcomer, he had made them all a fair amount of money and they wanted to see him continue the play.

It seemed that Instruma had somewhat underestimated the sensation when she used the words “Neural Jolt”. As the game went on the disks began to move about and then rotate and spin randomly, then more and more disks appeared and the time between the flashes decreased.

When missed a stabbing pain jabbed into the prince, emulating first small burns, then increasing, after 3 games the throbbing after effects of the game remained even after the round had ended, though no visible marks could be seen, one in particular felt like a combination plasma burn and knife wound to his lower thigh.

Probably the most frustrating aspect of this game was the random places the jolts were delivered and the distraction each of these jolts became, causing more misses, and more pain. It seemed some of the observers were betting against Aeron too because some of the crowd cheered as he missed and was hit by a cascading series of jolts before the round ended.

Instruma continued to offer encouragement to the prince as he played, and as uncomfortable as the game was, it seemed he had managed to steadily grow the size of his voucher chips.



For the observers to this game the rules were fairly simple. Predict how the player would do based on his bets and past performance. The environment would become more hostile as more observers bet along with the player, and less hostile as they bet against him. Some of the observers playing against the player would call out rude comments in an attempt to distract the player as well, making the game even more challenging.


Genesis smiled in return, watching the winged gentleman win another round at the Qa’ phar table. The thought of cheating crossed her mind, most foreigners didn’t know any better, but quickly vanished as a voice like oiled glass slid up behind her and soft lips found her hand. Involuntarily, she shivered and held out her glass.
“Thank you, Lord… DePimpsey, you said?” An automatic response from an interested party triggered in her node, querying the background of a man who would know her on site. He didn’t wear traditional Pilonese coloring, just as she didn’t, but she had been pursuing outside fashions in the interest of external relations. Her smile was smooth, despite the light headed sensation provided by her original beverage, pearl white teeth lined in perfect rows side by side.
Aeron's eyes glinted. "It's an honour to meet you, Lord DePimsey." The winged gentleman took off his hat and bowed. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Prince Caurentin Aeron Drakharn, of the Divine Imperium of Roania."
She felt herself blink as the nodelink sent off an unnecessary query. More information would not hurt, however. Various information profiles on both people popped into her head, revealing quick facts and useful relevant information to her. “It is a pleasure to meet you both, Lord DePimpsey, Prince Caurentin.”

The Field Marshall's eyes lit up when he saw the naked Pilonese women return with his Jack 'N' Coke and food. After taking a few sips and gobbling up half of his fried bonless rib meat, he burped, excused him self and attached his hand firmly to the posterior of the elf woman.

Anna rolled her eyes at Seville and took a bite of shrimp from her glass. She looked down at the little gnome with an amused smirk and then returned to her shirmp cocktail and followed Seville as he started walking towards the gaming floor.

"Alright now" Seville said as he wiped his mouth with a hankerchief. "I don't know about the rest of my people, but me and my boys here want to get in on a poker game, lead the way" he said while patting the back of one of his KOP bodyguards.

"Do you have roulette? And I don't mean Russian" Perez quietly asked Tova with a wink and a smile as he felt around in his pockets for shell casings(TPM currency).

He nodded and poured a glass for Genesis, then he poured a glass himself and tasted the drink carefully.
"Quite nice." he said simply.

DePimpsey grinned his winning smile again and nodded respectfully to the Prince before turning his head back to look deeply into Genesis' eyes.
"I'm afraid I'm not too familiar with this type of game, any chance you could tell me how it works exactly?" he glanced over at the table and the Prince, then back to Genesis, a very faint smell of spearmint on his breath as turned and smiled at her again. "Mind if I sit and watch? Till I get the hang of it?"

Knootian Courage Shuttlecraft

Former Black Titan and future observer and Freethinker representative to the Martian Duma, Galden Ardan, sat preening himself in front of the mirror located in his small stateroom. Clad in a towel and still somewhat wet from the shower, he ran his hands through his blond hair and muttered to himself as he quickly styled the various strands into a messy look that was currently all the rage back home. Next to him, a graying old ghoul, his long-time friend and adjutant Smith, stood with the air of a Midlonian Butler, though a line of military medals sparkling in the neon lights showed off his own interesting past.

“Great, how do I look?” He asked, flicking the forward lock strategically out of place.

“Like a woman sir”.

“Excellent.” An insult in any other culture perhaps, but given that Galden had in the Second Moonstone war won a traction fight with a steam locomotive he had surprisingly little in terms of strength or skill to prove to others. Built like a tank, in humanform he nonetheless looked about a fifth of his half ton bulk, massive musculature hidden beneath a standard human frame, and his youthful features also hid an age approaching millennia. He took a step back from the mirror and turned to Smith, a questioning look.

“Right, human or combat?”

Smith paused for a second, and then answered.

An hour later, the small craft landed at the casino, touching down with a pneumatic hiss. Out of its hatchway appeared Smith first, in Space Corp finest rig, followed by a dull thud as Galen came up behind him.

But this was not the pretty boy from earlier. This was a combatform Freestian vampire, the first time many of the guests would have ever seen one. Shifting onto all fours as he passed through low doorways, he still raised high above most heads, his wing sockets on the back of his shoulder blades tipping nine feet on the rise, the wings rising even further, two massive membrane flaps that, though tucked back, still awkwardly took up a large amount of space around him. Massive jaws and massive horns rounded off the draconian head, and a twelve foot tail, prehensile and twitchy, extending back out behind him. The size and weight of a decent ground car, Galen made quite an impact. This was going to be a lot of fun.

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v195/The_Freethinkers/vamphead.png

Caurentin's eyes darted across the table, his expression completely blank. He was barely straining himself at this pace, and he wondered if perhaps making use of his fast reflexes was cheating. He glanced across at the Midlonian and the Pilonese Lady, and then without even looking once more his hand darted out and reached for the last disc he needed to grab in order to win this round.

And missed. The jolt shook his arm and cracked open his pleased demeanour. He drew his hand back, but restrained himself from sending the machinery flying. He was conscious of the cheering, and the glow in his eyes brightened somewhat. He remarked, flatly, to Instruma, "I am pleased that your people find my defeat amusing."

Almost casually, Isilwen moved her hand down till it lay over Seville’s arm, then with superhuman speed she twisted the hand away from his body, and turned to face him. Her grip was firm and she seemed to know precisely where the pressure points of the body were, and how to use them. Her expression was still calm. “I am flattered by your affections, but if we’re going to play we should go somewhere private, I wouldn’t want to get your blood on the floor here, someone might slip.” She winked at him and smiled the released her grip on his arm.

Following this little display a quiet voice entered into Anna’s head. “Quite the brutes, aren’t they. They should learn to be more cautious before playing with some of the employees around here… they’re definitely not innocent, nor are they bimbos as he would seem to think, there is rarely a single depth to what you see around here.” About that same time Yoz caught her eye, looked at the elf then back to Anna again, then she smiled.

After Seville mentioned Poker the twins motioned toward one of the supports and pulled the KOP bodyguards along toward it. “There are a couple Poker tables on the top floor, but I think you’ll like the Poker room a lot better, its down a few levels in the grove.” There were no apparent transports or doors in the room, but they seemed to know where they were going.

Tova held back with Perez. After the others had gone she pointed into the air. “I sure do hon. The roulette table is on the top floor with most of the old fashioned earth games, its quite the view up there, tailored specifically for foreigners interested in gambling but wishing to avoid more of the more… eccentric aspects of Piloense culture. Come on I’ll show you.” She grabbed his hand and skipped as she led him quickly toward one of the supports opposite from the rest of the group. The tip disappeared from her hand though there was nowhere apparent she could have put it. Even more disturbing was that it had disappeared with a speed that would make magicians envious.


Like all the other delegations, the Freestian was greeted by a casino rep as he entered. The difference in this case though, was that the rep was a Goutaim. Behind him stood another human female, clothed in a green and white silk shirt that was barely long enough to cover her upper thighs.

The Goutaim were a hybrid Crocodile-Human race that had been bred as elite warriors in Pilon’s military, many still served, mostly in intelligence, espionage, and reconnaissance missions. The casino, however, employed this Goutaim, and as such more notable was its pheromone glands, and its mood based skin tones.

The Goutaim moved forward first, bowing deeply before its guests before giving them both the Pilonese greeting. “Welcome to the Grand Casino! I am Ha’reui, this is Gola. Can we get you some food or drink for starters, or would you like us to show you to any particular games?” After her name was called Gola stepped forward and also raised her hands in Pilonese greeting to them both.
Several of the guests looked at the new arrival with some interest, and more than one whispered to companions in low voices. Several bits of laughter broke out and after about 15 seconds everyone was back to playing whatever it was they were playing before the dragon had come into the room.


Several curses rang out as Caurentin lost. Several voices words of encouragement, but soon after those who had bet against him made clumsy motions in the air, mocking his final move then laughing to one another and raising their glasses in the air in triumph.

Instruma leaned over to speak to him. “Your tone seems to say otherwise. Don’t take it to heart, they are only betting against you because you are a foreigner and they know that the game has studied you enough now to elude your bets, you have to realize many Pilonese spend most of their free time in Casinos like this, its designed to be the center of nightlife for our people, and they love to see new blood come to the tables, usually because you make everyone else very rich.”

She stood behind him and motioned to the dealer, and he nodded. “You can take a quick break now, allow me to relax your muscles a bit.” She began massaging his shoulders with an expert’s touch. It seemed they trained these casino reps well. As she continued the massage she whispered several secrets of the game into his ear, giving him tips he could use to throw off the observers to manipulate the environment.

“Most foreigners think this is a game of speed, but in reality it’s all about the crowd. It doesn’t matter how fast you are, the game will adjust to your abilities and you will reach your threshold before it does, the true skill comes in making the observers think what you want them to think, and then take advantage of their betting to win some rounds, and a bit of money yourself, instead of just making them rich.”

Suddenly an almost snotty nerdy voice erupted form behind the sleek oak doors of the oval office…

“Mr Speaker This will be a perfect opportunity to establish relations with some major galactic powers, we need these relations if we are ever going to make it out in the galaxy”


The doors suddenly opened with a whoosh and rumble the sleek oak doors reflecting the yellowish soft light of the chandeliers over head, a young 18 year old six foot three tall young man in a black suit walked out, his reflective black shoes shuffling on the blue carpet below, his skin was smooth and brownish white, his eyes were dark brown..

He responded with a course deep voice “I know what you mean Bester, infect my idea is to attend this, even though space force one isn’t complete yet Ill have to use one of our new battle carriers…”



The older but slimmer shorter man responded “Wont that send the wrong message”

Rob laughed a bit and responded “No.. Not if we don’t shoot at them or target them with weapons, I’m sure it will be fine.. Now I want to depart as soon as possible, tom witch ships are available?” he spoke off to the side panning a view towards a burly charcter in a blue grey military uniform.

The character responded “ We can get you on the TAS Lexington, the TAS Polaris, or the TAS Vega…”


Rob thought for a second “Ill take the TAS Lexington..”


Later that day … a long sleek 2.5 kilometer battle carrier floated out in to the shimmering darkness of space, its huge gravimetric engines propelled the large beast forward, its dark grey metal shining upon the light and shimmering in the darkness ,its ominous body pushing forward like a sword slashing towards its victims.

The young smooth bodied tall boy stood on the bridge of this ship, the chrome white floor, ceiling and walls reflecting the bight white lights and various colored status and tactical panels of the ship, a visual communications array in front of the entire command staff, in the middle of this spacious antithetically pleasing bridge was the captains chair..


The captain was a older man, about thirty, he looked over to rob, and asked with a deep voice “Shall we depart sir?”

The young man responded quickly “Yes, all jump engines activate…”

Suddenly the quiet ominous large ship began reverberating with engine noises, the loud noise, came form the jump engines, energy began pouring in to them…

Suddenly the huge streaking ship disappeared in to a jump point its body engulfed with colors of blue white red and orange…

Several moments passed.. The huge ship emerged at the other side.. The 2.5 Km behemoth floated along its gravimetric engines spewing a stream of blue and white, its shimmering gleaming hull moving forth over the red crimson jewel of mars..

The ship came up to the orbiting facility, it posed no direct threat, even though It had a full complement of Thunderbolts and weapons… they were powered down.

Rob looked over to the con officer who was taping on a glassy console he spoke with a slightly commanding but professional voice. “Relay a message that speaker Robert Bastidas is coming aboard.. Now Ill be on my way..”

He walked out of the room his body shimmering in the change of lights the change of decks with chrome white and blue lines going passed him.

He arrived at the docking bay in due time and quickly boarded a medium sized modified gun ship, it was almost non militarized accept for a 40 mm pulse cannon, its streamed out of the bay the medium sized gravimetric engines pushing the ship along streams of white and blue flying in to the shimmering void of space…


The pod docked with the station.. .and rob walked out with a stern professional but some what relaxed stance. His feet taped long towards the main conference room, his black suit and grey tie shimmered in the light as the young leader looked around..


( http://img439.imageshack.us/img439/623/battlecarrierlarge1ye.jpg The ship i came in)

DePimpsey grinned his winning smile again and nodded respectfully to the Prince before turning his head back to look deeply into Genesis' eyes.
"I'm afraid I'm not too familiar with this type of game, any chance you could tell me how it works exactly?" he glanced over at the table and the Prince, then back to Genesis, a very faint smell of spearmint on his breath as turned and smiled at her again. "Mind if I sit and watch? Till I get the hang of it?"

Genesis returned DePimpsey's smile, cradling her wine glass. "You try and catch the glowing disk before it moves out of range. If someone bets for you, the game gets harder. If they bet against you, the game will become easier for you and harder for your adverseries." The Roanian took a rather hard shock and his escort began soothing him. His eyes glowed and his wings flexed, entire body rigid as they murmered between themselves. Genesis buried a smile in her champagne, only allowing a sliver of it to pass her lips. Yes, it was good.

"There are far less frustrating games to play." She came out of her glass with a more nuetral expression, smiling fondly at Lord DePimpsey. "Games that leave you less at the mercy of your audience."

DePimpsy snorted slightly with laughter as the Prince was shocked, then recomposed himself and looked back at Genesis.

"Less frustrating? Care to show me these games at all Miss Simber?" he took a sip of his drink and peered at her with a quizically raised eyebrow "This wouldn't happen to involve going somewhere more quiet would it?" he said with a grin.

Galen was pleased to see racial profiling was alive and well in Pilon, but he was willing to overlook this for the moment, merely able to smirk for the time being. Whereas he welcomed the respectful nature of the reptilian’s greeting, he couldn’t quite help but ponder ensuring the next Pilonese delegation to the Commonwealth was greeted by an immaculately dressed chimpanzee. That said, the subservience was nice and the extremely attractive woman, along with most of the scantily (if at all clad) women dotted around were indeed a nice sight for an old soldier.

Smith himself perhaps couldn’t have looked more out of aplace, a military man uncomfortable out of uniform. Hell, it had taken all of Galen’s persuasion to ensure he didn’t bring along his pistol or his ceremonial cleaver. That said, Galen was fairly sure that once the drink and drugs began to flow the old ghoul would spring to life. Ghoulish infantry tended to try and prove their worth at any activity, including relaxation. Ghoul nights out could destroy small communities.

Galen rose to a bipedal stance, placing his great weight on his hind legs as he was welcomed by Ha’reui and then Gola. Though somewhat awkward given the sheer size disparity, the vampire couldn’t help but smile. He nodded to the crocodilian and ordered a full keg of the best local draft. Ha’reui didn’t argue, complying with the request immediately. Galen automatically shifted to Gola as Smith simply shook his head behind him.

“As for games, actually…I must say, quite a crowd tonight.” He tried to look as fetching as possible. For a male vampire combatform this generally involved filling his neck crest with blood to ensure a bright red flow.

“Indeed sir. We have many games avaliable, old Earth styles, private rooms, and if you don’t mind…” She pinched the end of his tail as it slithered up around the outside of her thigh, gripping it firmly in surprisingly hard fingers. Galen jokingly apologised as the alcohol arrived.

Galen smiled again, overtly pleased with the excellent service. He took the keg in his dustbin lid sized hands brought it up to drinking height. Instead of opening the tap, however, he simply opened a finger, extended one of his retractable claws and set to work scoring the top of the keg with the diamond hard talon. When he got ninety percent round the circumference, he pushed the metal top in like an oversized can of soda before cocking his head back and drinking the entire contents of the large container in roughly three seconds.

He had to admit the Pilonese could do good beer. Proper European style with a hint of spice, the mark of a truly decent alcoholic beverage. He looked at the keg for a moment, indicated to Ha’reui for a second, then returned his gaze to the now empty container. Bringing up his second claw he crushed the keg into a fraction of its original size before putting it in his massive jaws. A full dull crunches as his large teeth reduced the metal lump to thin strips before the keg itself dissappeared down Galen’s powerful throat, the thick band of muscle reducing it in size even further as it descended to his stomach.

“Kegs. Good source of iron.” He smiled at Gola. “Although probably not here. Anyway, games, yes those would be…good, looking for something to test my strength on, if you have that.” He grinned again, a full sized smirk that looked at least partially threatening had it not been accomponied by a low booming laugh. He looked out over the room, looking for familiar sights and maybe familiar scents. Large nostrils flared though could the only thing he could really distinguish was the sweet perfumes of the local females. “Surprise me.”

Less quiet? Genesis felt herself chuckle before business manners could find her, a low and throaty sound that only one other person had heard outside of her immediate family. "Anywhere you go inside of this casino tonight will be loud, Lord DePimpsey."

As though on cue a dragon crushed a keg and swallowed it whole.

"Follow me." She led him through a crowd of people, barely noticing the scantily clad and naked bodies that moved around her, she was content to assume DePimpsey would follow. Through another crowd of similarly dressed individuals and past a group that war nothing at all, beyond the Scolopendrans and finally passed the dragon at the entrance and she led him to an alcove concealed by a plushy red curtain. Smiling, she held it aside and jestured for him to enter.

Aeron's lips curled upwards. Just slightly. It was almost a smile, but to the Roanians the facial expression had long lost any real meaning. His eyes burned, and what they showed within would have terrified anyone who knew what they were looking for. "I am pleased," his voice said, as if from a great height, "that my loss enriches your people. Perhaps it is time to play another game?"

He reached for a glass of drink for himself, and picked it up delicately. Perhaps another person of the prince's personality might have acted with less restraint, but Caurentin took the long view of things. And in the long run, they'd all be dead. Not worth killing anyone over; on the off-chance murder was possible here. "Perhaps something more traditional?"

In the meantime, whilst sustenance was being required, Razak had managed to acquire a pack of vaguely leaf-shaped cards the dazzling color of mottled jeweled scarabs; the flat spadelike discs certainly have a chitinous look about them, at least. After some inspection to determine what suit is what--a matter of colored scales on the underside--he carefully disorders them with a Hindu shuffle and speaks with an experienced air. "Name of the game's Assaba-al'-Komi, it's a variant on Basra. Teams of two, whist sitting, teammates opposite each other. Captures are done by matching the sum of one or more cards on the floor, or the type of court card. Capturing the entire floor's a basra and gets you ten additional points. Jacks clear the floor but aren't a basra; the seven of diamonds clears it and is a basra if the floor's made of numericals whose sum's less than ten. As for scoring, the more cards, the better; one point bonuses for jacks and aces, two points for the two of clubs, and three for the ten of diamonds. Here, Jack, cut 'em."

He hands the cards to Kerrigan, who taps them on the table to align them better. The cards, essentially genetically modified beetles with vestigal legs and a grossly oversized (and reinforced) shell, make a noise somewhere between a chirrup and a coo in response. Although the noise is engineered to be soothing and vaguely relaxing, Jack still jumps from the unexpected surprise with an 'ack!' Looking around sheepishly, he gingerly picks the deck up again, splits it in two, stacks it back up and pushes it back to Razak, who deals four cards to each player and leaves four face up on the table. Play commences, with the seating arrangement meaning Julius and Issac are on one team and Jack and one of the casino reps are on the other.

It only took a few minutes for the reps to return with the Scolopendran’s food. Issac ordered a large purple flower with broad leaves and a red stem, it was called Douleurouge and gave off a strong bitter smell to it. It had several large cooked beetles as sides and a variety of vegetables and a sweet blue colored bread.
On the one hand, strong bitter smells associated with food don't seem to put off the 'Pendrans; their cuisine is rather lamb and saffron intensive at times so it's like a slice of home summed up in some sort of crazy alien flower. The beetles are also no great surprise given that genemodded centipedes are the national dish. On the other hand, there is some arching of necks to see what kind of vegetables are in play and questions are asked as to why the bread's blue. That's a new one on them.

They have no problem with eating, playing, and conversing simultaneously; the PiFish goes over quite well whilst Razak seems to enjoy munching on the melon petals particularly. It's nominally hard to tell, but it does appear to make his wry demeanor somewhat less severe.

When it comes to the interrogation, the Scolopendrans reply politely with only the occasional glance at each other. The Arabic and Islamic coloration of the Segments is a matter of public record, given that a full third of the country is Muslim; the nation isn't as technofetishist as most, instead adopting a much more utilitarian attitude towards things. Yes, there are bazaars on street-level Topside and in the Caves of Steel; yes, people have been known to trade goats for chocolate down there. Haggling is customary. Federal culture is 'bland' with its emphasis on streamlining and efficiency on purpose; in the actual cultural salad bowl at the grass-roots level there is indeed a place for everyone and it's reflected in the local color. Scolopendra victualis, the edible centipede, tastes like crab and is traditionally boiled live like lobster. Centipede races are a common thing and yes, it is a betting event although they never individually draw large crowds, being much smaller than horses and hard to see on more traditional tracks.

Julius in particular has no interest in giving out information for free and always counters Issac's questions by making them reciprocal. He's careful to make it polite, in the form of "and what do your people do?" but he doesn't bother to try and hide it, for whatever reason.

DePimpsey smiled broadly when Genesis laughed, it was a beautiful deep chuckle that sent shivers through his body.

He bowed slightly and dutifully followed Gensis, staying a few steps behind viewing various people, naked, not so naked, a strange man in a dark suit that looked completely out of place amongst the naked, semi-naked sort-of-clothed guests. A giant pusedo-dragon chewing on a beer keg caused him to raise a smile and a realisation it was probably a Freethinker Vampire.

Smiling, Gensis held aside a plush red curtain revealing an alcove and jestured for him to enter. He shook his head and grabbed hold of the curtain, breifly brushing Gensis' hand with his own.
"No no, after you." he smiled and gestured himself, that quirky infections smile revealing the small diamond in his front tooth glittering in the light.

The Casino sent a quick reply acknowledging receipt of the TFU message and giving docking instructions. They were also informed that a Casino Representative would be meeting their guest at the entrance as soon as they arrived.
As the Robert arrived on the station a young Orc woman greeted him. She bowed deeply. “Greetings speaker, my name is Ghof, I am here to serve you, can I get you anything to drink or eat, or would you like to get right to the gaming tables?” By Orc standards she was fairly beautiful, her naked body showed off her muscled body.
She had a shimmering tattoo of a black dragon on her lower left leg that moved slowly, an occasional puff of smoke billowing out of its snout.


Seeing how appreciative the Freethinkers were of their alcohol, their casino reps made sure there was a steady supply to satisfy them. There were all the popular varieties from Earth, several from outside of earth, and several thousand new varieties the Pilonese had created themselves, usually taking advantage of their new food types to create unique beverages, however the Pilonese specialized in the production of Beer. The keg consumed was of a common variety in Pilon, called Sudavaire, made from special spices only found in Pilon.

Alcohol was stored in a specially grown carapace that was similar to wood in its structure, different varieties were used to add an extra bit of flavor to the different types of alcohol. They were often served in bone mugs that emulated the properties of pottery, though it was lighter.

When the dragon asked to play a game that would test his strength the reps glanced at each other and smiled. “Right this way, we have just the thing for you.” They headed to a small arena at the far end of the floor. “I think this is exactly the game you’re looking for, the game is fairly straight forward. You get into the circle and they seal it. They raise the gravity levels within to 5g. You will then be faced with a young Manxome Monster and will fight for 2 minutes or first knock out. You score points by landing blows on your opponent and lose points when it hits you. You make a wager on how many points you think you will score against the creature, others can also bet on how you will perform.”

Just then the last round ended, several people ran in and dragged a bloodied body out. The person was 3m tall and rippled with muscles. He was covered in spikes, several of which had a thick black ooze on them. 3 thick claws were shattered on his hands but the rest still looked intact. His entire right side looked as though it had caved in and a thin line of blood absorbed into the floor as they dragged him out of the arena.


Instruma noted the increased agitation coming from the prince and quickly agreed. “The Pilonese are a social people. Many of our games have a built in mechanism to attract more than just the player to the game. Its not meant to be anything personal against you, just the way we are. Perhaps you’re right, maybe it is time for another game. If you would come with me I’ll show you the way to the more traditional earth style games, they are on the top floor.” She motioned toward one of the supports. “This way.”


Issac seemed to be a quick learner. After several games he began to do pretty well at the game, the casino rep following behind but eventually catching on as well. They were enjoying the game, and the company provided by their guests quite a lot.

After the Pendrans finished their food she offered them drinks or more food. Issac orders a glass of Bragirian Wine for himself. The Casino reps both ordered beers and some cheese.

Issac seems eager to answer all of Julius’ questions, going in depth into Pilonese culture and values, some of their technological achievements and discussing economics and trade. He speaks with passion, especially of his hopes to reform the Pilonese government into something that will benefit all of its people instead of primarily the rich. He also alludes to the idea of removing the corporate influences on the Pilonese government.
He also speaks about the recent tragedy in PPC.

“Its part of something big, an organized group is trying to eliminate what they see as only hindrance to true Democracy, the Simber Family. I have reason to believe that they are getting outside support and fear that if they continue their actions they may destabilize our economy, possibly by assassinating Genesis, which would spurn a huge power struggle not just by other people within her Megacorp, but also possibly my PPC trying to win back lost properties. I have my suspicions about who is behind it, but many of the speakers believe it to be solely the work of Geneticorps. I cannot doubt that Geneticorps has been getting aid from somewhere, their recent increase in attacks is definite proof that some force is trying to cause trouble for Pilon.”

Having finished several games Issac finally spoke up. “Being the minister of the economy provides for many interesting opportunities. One in particular I would be interested in getting some support from some of the larger powers in the solar system on. Would you be interested in setting up a meeting sometime to discuss this idea? I cannot go into too many details here, as the council is still debating the specifics, but it will concern interplanetary trade on a massive scale, will greatly benefit those who are interested, and may well help secure my political position as Speaker of the Council.”

Oh, great. Razak continues to smirk in his poker-face way as he looks over his cards. Terrorists.

The Segments has its own 'terrorism' problem; mostly, in that it's an exporter of them. The knights-errant are inevitably 'terrorists' to whatever oppression they oppose, even though the technicality that terrorists enact change through fear and attacks on civilians makes the knights-errant with their honor code not terrorists in the traditional sense is usually glossed over. It's a good cringe word for propaganda purposes, and the Federals keep their noses clean by making militant knight-errantry illegal, also on technicalities. Blowing up an Iraqstani superweapon isn't illegal in the Segments; going AWOL from the Civilian Defense Corps and stealing CDC equipment to do it is. Then there's Dar-al-Din, but Garbo says it's been sealed tighter than a Territorian's ass forever. Quite proud about the letters home about how well the lesser ji'had against the infidels is going, he is.

Then there's dealing with other people's 'terrorists,' especially in this case. What do the Scolopendrans not like? Megacorporatic oligarchies. What are these terrorists opposing? And what are they supporting? A grass-roots democratic movement? The knights-errant had better not find out about this. Hell, Janus may even decide to assist these Geneticorps guys if he figures it's in the best interest of us and our ideals. Slimeball. The last thought has an ironic twist to it. Razak finds himself wondering whether the mutual defense pact between the Segments and Pilon applies this far, then decides that such petty hair-splitting is offensive to the 'Pendran psyche between friends and, well, for good or for ill the Pilonese aren't enemies anymore. "Well... concerning them I think I'll ask Advisor Garbo to get the Intelligence Section to take a look at it. If anyone could root them out, I think SIS could." He glances over at Kerrigan, and remembers the younger man's day job. "I can also get Legislator Kerrigan here to inform the Intelligence Oversight Committee so they can do their own investigations."

It's a cheap trick. Garbo would call him on it, but respect it all the same. I swear, the man enjoys being kept on a leash sometimes.

When trade comes up, Julius defers to Kerrigan without a word or a glance. Jack takes up the banner now that his field of expertise--a few years on the budget-making People's Money Committee does that--comes into play. "We've always been interested in trade, traditionally. Despite the vagueness of the introduction," he says with a chuckle, "I'm still interested. Can you tell me more about it?"

The Casino sent a quick reply acknowledging receipt of the TFU message and giving docking instructions. They were also informed that a Casino Representative would be meeting their guest at the entrance as soon as they arrived.
As the Robert arrived on the station a young Orc woman greeted him. She bowed deeply. “Greetings speaker, my name is Ghof, I am here to serve you, can I get you anything to drink or eat, or would you like to get right to the gaming tables?” By Orc standards she was fairly beautiful, her naked body showed off her muscled body.
She had a shimmering tattoo of a black dragon on her lower left leg that moved slowly, an occasional puff of smoke billowing out of its snout.




Rob grinned a little, his hands fluidly moving to cross them selves at his chest, his grin went in to a smile it was obvious that he was looking at the woman with grate.. “interest” his eyes panned over her body focusing on certain parts, the split second after she said was filled with, thoughts that would be considered perverse by most nations standards and non professional, his mind was immersed in what to say, a few seconds of silence followed until he shivered a bit and jumped slightly responding “Well, I would like to get a drink, I don’t usually do this, but why don’t you join me? There’s always some time to chit chat with other nations leaders later on, and I’m not looking forward to being grilled so soon, but then again I dont want to spend to long looking at such a Beautiful being such as your self… but I suppose a little fun wont hurt, then I’ll have to face the cold faces of sol.., no pun intended..”
he smiled following her and walking beside her, his hands now to his side fluidly and relaxing.

Mean while his head was immersed with a conflict, should he try to get some place with this beautiful vixen, or should he discuss business, surely there was time for both if he got here privet comn channel.. And vice versa he thought his mind looking over the platuids of dating practices, and what he should have done, it didn’t really matter in that Instant since he was so struck with her looks he could hardly think or speak, his tall slightly skinny build shimmered as he walked a little, he stood tall with his hands to his sides his skin’s smoothness was enhanced by the changing of light, he glanced over now and again while waiting for a response.

"Thank you." Genesis smiled and let DePimpsey hold the curtain for her, entering the alcove. On the opposite side was a somewhat secluded room, though if you glanced up you would be able to see a clear viewing window set into one wall. No one stood there now, but should the game become interesting a crowd might gather. "The idea of this game, Lord dePimpsey, is somewhat similar to a drinking game, though more intimiate."

She let the last word hang for a moment, pheremone implants already spicing the room to excite him as she made sure that both chairs and a card table were present in the center of the room. She pulled a third chair from a corner for his escort who smiled a polite thankyou, her own pheremones spiking up in contrast to Genesis'. In minutes, the room would literally be swimming with the proverbial 'scent of a woman'.

"If..." She looked at the other woman for her name."

"Cora." Came the response.

"...Cora would be so kind as to get us the gaming chips, I'll explain the rules." Genesis smiled, pearl white teeth lined up perfectly and the PPC representative unwillingly went to retreive the chips. Genesis would have the stronger edge between the two of them in the game, at least on account of the pheremones, it seemed. "The rules are simple. Cora will return with three trays of gaming chips and a glass. You must bounce your chip once off of the table and then into the glass. If you suceed, you may perform a 'tease' on a player of your choice. If you miss the glass, move from your chair outside of your turn, or otherwise lose control of yourself you lose the wager. New bets are added at each round, which means the prize for winning gets bigger the longer you maintain control."

"Augs?" Cora had reappeared, a dish of black, red and green chips in her hands along with a glass hurricane dish.

Genesis looked at DePimpsey. "Augs should be fine, but I think we should wait on outside toys until we see how he does."

Charles grinned ever so slightly, and immediately crossed his legs when he sat down, and listened to the explanation, a grin splitting widely on his mouth when he heard he could "tease" either his escourt of the lovely Miss Simber.
"Ok, so, that simple huh?" he sighed and picked up a disk and bounced it, it cracked on the table, span and landed into the dish with a gentle crink.

"Not to bad for a first go, huh? Must be beginners luck." he said with a grin, he then got up and gently moved around to Genesis, pressed his lips against hers and ran his hands gently down her barely clothed body, after a moment he breaks away with his smile still in place and sits back down, he then turns to Cora.
"Your turn I beleive?" he asked, coughing slightly.

Galen watched the body being dragged away with a silent gaze, analysing the broken form of the fallen warrior, unspoken thoughts quickly passing through his mind as he followed the trail of blood back into the arena. Whatever had landed the blows had disappeared, waiting for the next competitor. The crowds hissed and hollered, a few luckier souls counting thick stashes of winnings. This was entertainment alright, a seeming tribute to the gladiatorial games of old. Galen flicked his mouth slightly; teeth and jaws bared and displayed as usual, and tongue slowly panting in the heat. A dull footstep behind him brought Smith back to his attention, whom Galen immediately locked into a quizzical gaze.

Smith returned the gesture. “You sure you want to go through with this sir?” He stated firmly, though there was little heart in his clipped words. Galen returned a half-hearted smile.

“I am an apex predator, supreme in both my ability to fight and to kill. I do not retreat from mere shows of strength.” Like reading from a script, he thought. In a relatively remarkable display of emotion Smith raised one his greying eyebrows.

“Sir this is hardly drop-lifting your car for some school kids. A serious injury will not be a useful addition to your diplomatic inventory when you arrive at the Duma.”

“You worry old boy.” Galen tapped Smith on the shoulder playfully, his tone becoming lighter.

“Fine, but don’t expect me to come in and save you.” Smith took a step back. “Well, I’m not stopping you. Go get ‘em.”

Galen smiled and turned, peering at the entrance to the small arena. The crowds watched him with calculating glances, bets being placed and collected as he made his way into the arena. The door shut behind the massive vampire, a dull pneumatic-like hiss as he was locked in. He waited.

(OOC Note: Sorry for the delay, I moved, things have been a little hectic, didn’t have a lot of time to work on this…)

Issac nodded appreciatively at the Pendran offer of assistance. “Any help you can give us will be most useful, so far we have it narrowed down to somewhere in the Northern Ocean, we suspect they are being harbored by either Roania or the Osage as several escaping terrorists were traced to that area of the world, my money is on Roania, they have had dealings with terrorists in the past.”

When asked about the trade he smiled. “I was hoping you would show some interest. As it stands you have some existing relationships with many nations Pilon wants to open up trade relations with, and we are planning to host a conference soon to organize a deal that will benefit everyone who gets involved and we hope to include as many nations, especially the major trade powers around here, as we can. I can forward you additional details if you would like once we have them all worked out.”

Having finished that hand Issac carefully leaned forward and whispered. “Its not being widely spread, but it is known that at the very least the Osage are funding terrorist actions against Genesis Corp. They tried to attack this Casino several times before you arrived, just after Genesis Simber arrived. We caught one of the assassins alive and have it in custody now. He then leaned back and ordered several more drinks and a plate of cinnamon apples. “Another game?”


“The Orc woman smiled at Rob’s flattery. “Is there any particular drink you would like, I would be happy to serve you, in the meantime, why don’t you take a seat over there.” She gestured to a group of lumps clustered in a group. A couple Pilonese were sitting in some of the other lumps, which seemed to have formed around their bodies fully supporting them.


Cora smiled with an evil smirk and picked up three chips. She rotated the ships across her knuckles several times before catching them all in between her fingers she seemed to be getting a sense for their weight. Then she selected one and flipped in into the air a couple of times, letting it flip end over end before catching it. Finally she took the disk between her thumb and middle finger and flipped it. The disk shot against the table and flipped into the air, rotating end over end before finally landing solidly in the center of the cup.


”Ho! That’s a perfect score!” She advanced toward Depimsy a feral look in her eyes. She flexed her fingers and small barbed claws extended from their tips, each about ½ inch long. She circled around him like a predator before finally moving in rapidly. She licked his face as she gently ran the claws across his neck, then lightly nibbled on his ear before stopping suddenly. “Genesis, your turn my dear.”


The entrance to the arena clenched shut, sealing itself. The chamber was fully enclosed with viewports at the top where a number of onlookers could be seen, evaluating the new contestant. Then in unison they began to chant, though the sound was somewhat muffled within the chamber. They were chanting Galen’s name.

The Gravity in the chamber then rapidly increased, reaching 1.5 G in a few seconds and rapidly increasing, until it reached its optimal level at 5 G. Then at the far end the door opened and a large creature came out. It had jagged claws, and long teeth, and resembled a cross between a Lynx and a Moniter Lizard. The monster hissed at the Dragon and began climbing the side of the arena, its eyes always on the Dragon. The cheers from the crowd grew louder.

Auburn red eyebrows rose slightly at the display of chips across Cora's knuckles. She shouldn't surprised at a casino rep, not really. It was just that she hadn't expected DePimpsey to accept the rules so willingly without placing any of his own. Within a few rounds, Cora would likely be flipping multiple chips into the dish and molesting the man. There was no show to her own coin toss, green chip hitting the table with the hollow thunk of carapace against living wood once before the even softer chink of carapace on carapace.

Genesis stood, stretching as she rose and allowing her fingers to trail the back of her chair and gradually fall to DePimpsey's shoulders. Half circling him once, she sat delicately in his lap. Her lips found his, much softer than Cora's, while her fingers absentmindedly found the only buttons he appeared to be wearing. Letting the kiss linger a moment longer, she stood and walked back to her chair, eyes lingering on him.

Assassins aren't generally "it"s. This leaves both of the 'Pendrans quietly wondering for a moment before they brush it aside. "We'd love to get the details when you have them," Kerrigan with a smile that isn't forced and a word choice that is, "thanks. Hopefully our broad relations, as you mentioned, will help." Diplomacy is too many times all about stating the obvious, or taking what someone else has said and repeating it in your own words to ensure understanding. "Unfortunately KIST has been rather inactive, though the trade channels we formed through it are still active and we are making contacts through Machiavelli." Again, Issac probably knows this and such knowledge makes part of the reason he wants to be buddy-buddy with the Segments.

Razak folds his hands like the old colonel he is when the assassin comes up. "I think Garbo will like looking into it, then. I remember we once ticked off Roania with some old floating radio towers; even if they've switched sides officially, they still call for some watching." Genesis Simber doesn't mean much to him beyond a name he's read in a dossier concerning Zero-One's trade connections to Pilon; most of said connections seem to be through her corporation and SIS documented her taking a trip to Sirenum (albeit from public knowledge). The report also suggested travel the other way via C'tan, although the Intelligence Section certainly would not openly suggest they somehow got a tracer onto one of S.H.O.D.A.N.'s more quiet avatars. Julius suspected any hardcopy, if any, on the matter would be in the Filing Cabinet of No Return and maybe Agent Simmias, director of the OPO, might have been involved as well. Just a hunch from how the two have been talking more cordially than usual as of late. "If nothing else, we've our new battlecruiser Arthropleura a stone's throw away. She can start collecting signals intelligence, if you'd like, and coordinating with your spacy with what she finds."

Just a polite offer he expects to be politely turned down as he shuffles the cards. The cards coo quietly in response to the gentle handling. "I'm game. I guess it'd be more polite if you picked the next game, seeing how I sorta barged in and declared mine. Culture-sharing and all."