NationStates Jolt Archive

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

Amy Keane, Consul of Klonor, sat within her cabin and read. It was an excellent novel, absorbing even though she’d read it numerous times before, and she was engrossed and oblivious to her surroundings. That had happened quite often recently, ever since her little mental pow-wow she'd been more withdrawn than before, and she continuously found herself completely engaged in whatever it was she was doing. However, the recessions inwards had happened less and less as time moved on, and she was more outgoing whenever she happened to be in public and surrounded by other people. Unfortunately, just as she was getting to one of those really dramatic points in the novel where it looks like you might have reached the climax already, the ship shook briefly and the lights flickered.

What the hell was that?

A normal Sub-Space transition was barely noticeable, nothing more than a slight internal kick that most people didn't even notice. There were never noticeable vibrations or a disruption of ships systems. Concerned, she approached the intercom built into the wall and called the bridge.

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

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

"Okay, I'll wait."

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

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

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

She grinned to herself as she bent to her book again, already half-unaware of the ships vibration as it began to travel towards the interior planets in the system.

Elome Hotel and Resort, EP-V, Epsilon Pegasi, Associated Systems of Klonor

Amy Keane, still using the Eio surname as she registered her room, opened the door and walked into the luxurious sweet that she had checked into for the duration of her stay in EP. It was a grand room, with a warm bed, Vid access, mini-bar, and everything else that a person could possibly dream of. Of course, so did the hotel next door, and the one next to that, and the one next to that. In Epsilon Pegasi, home to the wealthy and decadent of Klonor, it was pretty hard to find a public facility that didn’t have an obscene amount of luxury.

Quickly freshening up and enjoying the ample amount of space, even luxury cabins on a transport not being particularly roomy, she wondered just what it was that she would do for her vacation. She’d been here before, of course, but always in an official capacity, and always on a strict schedule; she’d never had time to play tourist. Feeling a quick internal rumble, however, made her focus on a much more immediate need.

I think a Rory's would do nicely, there was way too much Regulus cuisine on that transport and I need something that includes some form of meat. It's been to long.

Grabbing her novel, hoping to finish it during her meal so she’d have a completely free slate for the rest of the week, she walked to the exit to her suite and pressed a sequence of numbers into the buttons inlaid against the frame of the door. Stepping through, and emerging on the street before the hotel, she slowly turned until she caught sight of one of the ubiquitous information consoles scattered throughout the city, quickly learning the location of the closest restaurant. Walking down the street, preferring the scenic route to the readily available Phase Gate travel, she entered the futuristic equivalent of a Burger King, sat down in one of the booths, and began to tap through the menu display on the tabletop.

OOC:

Ahoy there, this is the third attempt to finally get Amy a spouse, and hopefully we'll get to the end of this one.

The OOC thread is here: http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=518588

The last IC event can be found here, to let you know what Amy's been through recently: http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=407802

The streets were busy today as people bustled up and down as traffic sped past them. Epsilon Pegasi was certainly busy today as it usually was. Atticus Konovski fought to make it through the crowds. He was on his cell phone trying to contact one of his future clients. He finally had to give up and found a small space off the sidewalk. He sat down and stretched his back and relaxed his muscles. It was a long day for the man but so was every day. Just last week he was at a site on another planet, digging up an ancient town. But, he loved his work and was a hard worker.
"Hello, Mr.Landros...this is Mr.Konovski, how are you doing?...Great...Oh, it's been a long day...yes I have to artifact....just got it yesterday...yes sir, I have it with me back at the office...okay, I'll see you later today" and the other end was cut off. Mr.Landros was a very rich man with too much money and too much time on his hand. Atticus was an archaeologist but had to learn to be a businessman as well.

Atticus never cared much for rich people. He prefered a simpler life, which is the kind he lived. It didn't matter, he still had a chance to do what he loved and got paid for it as well. A grumbled eminated from his stomach and he grumbled. Dammit, I should've had something to eat earlier. He searched for some place to eat quickly before his meeting. There was a Burger King across the street. He stood up and dodged the speeding traffic, almost being hit twice before reaching the other side. He stepped inside and surveyed the place.

Reikan Edgeheart smiled happily when the Captain announced that the ship would not be able to continue its journey. Instead, the passengers were given the opportunity to tour the world of Epsilon Pegasi. Of course, he could also take another ship out of there...but for one thing, why spoil the moment? For another, he couldn't purchase his way out of the planet anyways. He only had enough money for food and probably enough to squeeze in a few souvenirs.

Reikan was born an only child to a middle class family back home and went through a fairly good childhood. He had little to complain about in the way of education and the fact that the Empire hadn't put him through specialized training as a child, since most children were put through the millions of boot camps throughout the Empire for several years. Reikan's education consisted of some of the better colleges in Blastonia as his loving parents strived to get Reikan a better life and their child knew it. He worked hard to get scholarships and whatever else he could scrape up so his parents would not wind up living in the slums. And it worked, luckily, as his parents have yet to be evicted.

But the most expensive gift that Reikan's loving father and mother had given him was a minor genetic upgrade. Although it was one of the lower tier upgrades, made specifically for upper middle class, it provided Reikan with a lot more benefits in life. For that, Reikan was eternally grateful.

The tall, messy haired, green eyed man sighed as he opened his wallet, where several pictures of his mother, father, and himself were situated. He smiled briefly before he stood up, placed his wallet back in his pocket, and pulled on a large brown suitcase. Once he had his suitcase leaning up against the back of his leg, he opened the door only to find a river of people slowly making their way through the corridor.

"Looks like it'll be a while," Reikan sighed as he closed his door and sat back down in his chair, picking through a few magazines.

***

Time had flown by once he found himself a good story to read about Telepathy. Back home in the Blastonian Empire, there was a secretive military branch of the mind meddlers, telekinesis, telepathy, the whole spectrum. Luckily, they kept to themselves and were only wielded by the higher ups, usually the Blastit clones themselves.

Getting up, Reikan once again checked the corridor to find the river had slimmed down quite a bit and he now had enough room to finally get out and explore the sites. He picked up his suitcase and walked out at an eager pace, his anticipation growing with excitement.

***

Reikan had finally gone through baggage claim and was now walking with a rather large bag hovering close behind him with his smaller suitcase atop that one. With a startling grumble, Reikan realized that he hadn't eaten for a long time. In fact, he had even missed breakfast during the breakfast hours due to his falling asleep quite late and waking up just after the stewardess brought the breakfasts out for the buyers. I saved money anyways, he thought to himself with a chuckle as he made his way to what looked like a fast food restaurant. He was in the mood for a burger and hopefully this place would have some good ones.

He entered the mildly crowded building and sat down on a booth close to a window, setting his luggage next to him on the booth. He waited for a while, twiddling his thumbs or wistling to himself, hoping a waiter or waitress would come soon. Just as he was about to go around looking for one, a beautiful woman with a book in hand walked by and sat in the booth in front of him and began tapping at the table. Reikan looked on the table and chuckled as he slowly began pressing on the screen. However each press seemed to get him to a place he didn't want to go. Getting more and more annoyed with the machine he continued to push the button he wanted to, however it seemed to only detect him pushing the "Order" button, bringing him to a screen where large words flashed "You have not ordered anything". With a groan he absent-mindedly put his elbow on the table and a series of loud beeps emitted from the screen. With a startled jump, Reikan sat up and frowned at the machine. The woman in front of him seemed to be a professional at the machine so he got out of his seat and sat right behind her, their backs to each other, before he turned around and gently tapped her on the shoulder.

"Ma'am, I'm sorry but I seem to be having a bit of trouble with this device. You see, I'm new here and whenever I push the button I want to, it seems to think I want to order. Could you please help me?" he asked her quietly.

Technology was great and all, hell, he owed his very existence to technology, but...still. Even hailing from one of the most technologically advanced societies ever to have existed, Jerry Ixvitl had found Klonor to be a little...overwhelming.

It was, of course, a cultural thing. Ascended culture was all about using technology to complement, aid, assist...but never to define. This burger joint would never have existed in the Supremacy, not like this. Considering that various forms of nano-fabrication could create utterly perfect meals within the convenience of one's home, restaurants survived because one of the primary Ascended values was craftsmanship -- the knowledge that somebody had taken the time to acquire the skill necessary to craft the meal, then taken the time to prepare the meal...that was what made the meal worthwhile.

On the other hand, there was something to be said for convenience. Jerry didn't even try to fool with the interface, simply placed his left hand up against the display and, well...what little in the way of defensive encryption sheltered the joint's systems was...pretty much utterly negligible, considering the quality of Jerry's info-war system.

He didn't need to do it, and he had no intention of doing anything more than streamlining the ordering process -- skipping the interface and inserting his order directly into the system. Burger, fries, something carbonated, a salad, and three of whatever had the largest content of beef. Or beef-analogue. Or whatever.

He'd left Bosley and Francine with the ship. Neither of them had liked that, but he didn't have a good enough idea of local whims yet -- who knew what the reaction to a silver haired, pale-skinned, red-eyed man walking down the street flanked by a five foot tall pink flamingo and an absolutely massive wolf would be. Bosley was four feet tall at the shoulder and hugely muscled -- Jerry had seen him take down a fully grown Terran grizzly bear without even the slightest sign of difficulty.

His meal arrived swiftly, which was good. As he'd specified, the salad and beef patties were in a to-go bag, while the burger meal was prepared for immediate consumption, which Jerry rapidly got around to doing.

As Jerry was eating, Amy would make her entrance, and Jerry would find himself suddenly swept with an intense feeling of unease. The cheeseburger he was currently eating slipped from his hands to land back on the open paper wrapper it'd arrived in, then his hands clenched into fists.

The feeling wasn't going to pass, so instead, he acted. He ruthlessly beat the feeling into submission, then pushed it off to the side, and all was well again, more-or-less. The feeling was still there, but he didn't have to actually feel it...it was enough that he acknowledged it. Just another source of information.

It was, of course, because of what he was. He was a Lifehand, always had been -- it wasn't a talent you could induce, like Farhand or Biocon. The feeling was his Talent resonating with an individual, the woman who'd just entered and was now engaged in ordering her meal.

That wasn't anything special -- Lifehand let one tap, well, life. Exactly what that meant was a bit difficult to describe, Lifehand was an extremely diverse and poorly understood Talent. Practitioners relied, generally, on instinct. Jerry didn't know how he knew that there was something wrong with the woman who'd just enterred, but she wore her scars like a cloak. She was, presently, almost defined by that ill...and the Healer in Jerry couldn't ignore that.

It was tempting, of course, to simply get out of the chair, seize the woman, return to his ship, fix her, decide what to do with her, then go on about his life...but...that would've been far too easy. Oh, he could do it -- he was Jerry Ixvitl, and the force that could stop him...was far away, and would have been sympathetic, anyways. But it wouldn't have been genuine. Wouldn't have been right.

So, a simple movement of the right hand sent a tracer flying through the air to land upon the woman's neck and bind itself to her skin. Utterly undetectable, mind -- the tracer was small, even for a bit of nanomachinery, and constructed of, well...carbon.

Then he picked up his burger and polished it off in two quick bites.

Sure, he was playing a game. Hell yes, he was playing a game. If that kept him occupied and content, then the universe would just have to play along with him -- because the alternative...well...

Jerry Ixvitl was an Ascended Combat Avatar. He was, as far as he knew, the -only- Ascended Combat Avatar still active. To be honest, though, one living weapon who had toppled empires, destroyed civilizations, and variously wrecked utter havoc and mayhem -as a career- was more than enough.

Chasing a skirt who had no idea who or what he was for little reason other than sheer whim? Considering the potential alternatives, it wasn't nearly as daft as it sounded. Certainly better than being off somewhere killing something.

It probably said quite a bit about Jerry Ixvitl that he'd made his decision to meddle without caring a lick for who it was he was going to be meddling with -- certainly, as far as he was concerned, here was somebody who could benefit from his aid, and that was enough. Being a Combat Avatar certainly gave on an interesting outlook on the world -- it was a very egalitarian one. Having been intimately equated with the fall of quite a few stellar powers in his day, Jerry really didn't give value to politics or, really, any sort of 'societal status.'

Maybe he'd write a book about it some day.

Melcori found the customs of the starship baffeling. It had been seemed to be composed of what the one person who could explained called twelve guage wire, duct tape and chewing gum strapped to an engine that put most ships many times its size to shame. When it had docked at a planet that bore a fairly obscene name, at least when read at face value but was most likely some routine name for the natives, he took the opportunity to disembark. It seemed like a good enought place to spend some time, something he had quite a bit more of now that he'd become Exin.

Tail swaying lightly Mel walked down the path gazing in what might be considered by street vendors as a super tourist. Stopping at a small curio stand he spent a few minutes looking over the objects, ears twitching in greeting as the man spoke in a partially understandable language. As the man continued to attempt to press his items, he bared his teeth in what seemed like a smile but was actually body-language for 'get the heck out of here before I use your blood to lube my innards', it almost resulted in violance before making his meaning clear. Feeling the rumble of the equalizer, he set off for food.

Finding what certainly looked and smelled like an eatery. Taking a seat, he watched the flashing lights with interest as it seemed that there was entertainment to go along with the food that would come when the staff came. Seeing a male tapping a female, or at least from appearence that was thier status, on her shoulder as he faced her, he wondered if they were mated or kin to share such intimacy. It looked like a case of mating but then her actions were most disrespectful if such was the case. It would be interesting and informative to learn of the strangeness of these two. Perhaps they held the laws of hospitality here and if those employed were of a less than prompt nature, he would seek hospitality.

OOC: Well, it's only been a month since my first post, that certainly isn't an unnecessarily long and drawn out length of time.

Sorry dudes, life kinda got in the way and I've been drawn off from my national responsibilities. I'd like to resurrect this, but if you've all already gone your separate ways then don't worry about it (At least this time I can't blame this threads death on somebody else). Just keep posting if you're still in; if not then then I'll see you in another thread.

IC:

Amy looked up from the display screen when the man behind her tapped her on the shoulder, almost (but not quite) shivering at the touch; personal contact was still something that she was getting used to again. Glancing behind her, all to aware that the man must have decided to change seats in order to be on her side of the table, she saw a man who clearly had never been to Klonor before in his life; it was standard throughout the nation for public facilities to require activation before performing a service. Giving him a look which seemed to transcend time and national boundries, the universal expression a native can't help but give a tourist, she gave him a small smile and pointed towards the edge of the table where it joined the wall.

"You need to key-in before you can order, the system needs your characteristic on file. Just place your hand on the hand-print at the end of the table to let the system know this table needs to be activated, standard service request to keep the system from being abused. If you're still having problems you could request a personal attendant, but that shouldn't be necessary."

She'd already keyed-in so she couldn't demonstrate, but Amy assumed he could figure out the next step by himself.

"Just make sure you key-out once you're done, place your hand right on the same spot, otherwise somebody could sit down and order on your characteristic. Always a hassle when...when..."

Her voice wound down as she felt an energetic tug elsewhere in the restaurant, then a brief contact on her kneck, accompanied by the same pulse of energy. Somebody was manipulating sub-etheric energy, and the size of whatever it was he'd thrown at her would have guaranteed that it go unnoticed if she couldn't feel its manipulation. Obviously some form of alien tech, too small for anything except advanced nanotes (Nope, not a misspelling, the "o" is meant to be there), and just as obviously an invasion of her own space that she could not let pass, especially not now. With a brief mental touch she incinerated the skin where she'd felt the contact, easily ignoring the brief prick of pain, and slowly turned back to her table, and muttered something to Reikan about remebering she was in a rush.

She began to quietly scan the patrons in the restaurant, trying to scale back her fear as she wondered who it was had just tried to bug her. To fling a nanote at her meant they'd identified her, and that meant they had just knowingly assaulted Klonor's head of state, something casual criminals weren't in the habit of doing; the odds were this was not going to simply go away once she had removed the tag. She traced the sub-etheric surge to one end of the restaurant, but it had been too brief to follow to its source.

And I just wanted to get a burger.

Automated food-services was a concept so totally alien as to be incomprehensible to Melcori and he was about to try to get further information from the somewhat difficult to understand female, as he'd decided to classify her. She definately acted female, sort of like his sister, and she sort of looked like a female.

He found what seemed like a palm scanner and put his hand on it, causing the screen to light up. Leaping back Melcori sent the chair clattering back as he hissed at the device. Lights were not suppose to spring on at full intensity.

About to break the thing when he noticed that the female was distressed or seemed that way. Since she'd provided assistance, that had unexpected results mind but assistance nonetheless, it was only right that he offer her assistance.

Walking over to near her he asked in badly accented basic, "Help need you?" Articulation in the more common languages was alway troubling both due to unfamiliarity with the language and the shape of jaw and teeth. It resulted in a strange combination of a lisp and a felinic purring sound when he talked outside of his own native speech.

Jerry did not react. Oh, he -knew- about the removal of the tracer -- it stopped being traceable, after all...which meant it had been detected, which was...disturbing. Shouldn't have been possible. It was no different than any old speck of dust, smaller than most...

Which meant that she must have...other...methods of detection. Or she was a mind-reader, in which case he, Jeremiah Ixvitl, would stand out like a sore thumb...as his mind was a fortress, unbreachable, or the next best thing to it. Indoctrination, reflex training, and his own talents made him very formidable defensively, though he couldn't project at all...

Either way, he'd goofed -- he hadn't intended to alert her, yet...and now she was, most definately, alert. She tried to hide it, but...well, her fieldcraft wasn't up to snuff...was putting it politely. He, on the other hand, was...well...hmm. Actually...

It might be amusing to see what she did if she -was- able to identify him...hmm...it wasn't like she'd be able to harm him. After all, he was A. a combat avatar, and B. armed...and even if he weren't armed, it'd be child's play to disable a target from this close in.

On the other hand, it would probably be better to just fade into the background for a time, and act later. Easy enough to do, just become unremarkable -- amazing, consider how distinctive he was, visually...but, Jerry Ixvitl was a master.

The Hinlish was garbled, but still understandable, and Amy had heard much more incomprehensible questions in the past. Still, she paused a few seconds before turning to face the questioning arrival, considering just what was going on and who it was that was suddenly approaching her. Was this the man who had tried to plant something on her? Did he know she'd burned it away? Who was he?

Whatever the answers, she definitely didn't want to get involved in whatever was happening, especially not now. She was supposed to be on vacation, and she was not in the mood to play games.

"No, no I'm fine."

Trying not to sound too rude, in case this person was just some very perceptive patron who noticed her concern, she reached out and quickly flicked off the tabletop menu display and rose from her seat.

"It's just that I suddenly remembered a very pressing engagement. Excuse me."

Walking towards the restaurants exit, discreetly keeping an eye on everyone and everything, she stayed alert for another tug on nearby s-e energy. She knew what a properly motivated telekinetic could do, she knew what she herself could do if she wanted to, and with the bug gone as soon as it was planetd they might have something else on their mind; she wasn't going to be caught unaware again.

Outside, she decided that this was not the time to continue her tourist activities. Glancing around for the nearest Communi-Gate, preferring to avoid the limited-acces Gate in the restaurant, she slowly began to walk down the street, still surreptitiously glancing behind her.

This was not the slow recuperation she was looking forward to.

"When...?" Reikan asked quietly as she dropped the conversation and looked around as she seemed to space out suddenly. Then just as abrupt, she told him she needed to hurry.

Now that was something Reikan could not believe. She seemed distressed in some way- something was bugging her. Yet as he was about to pursue the idea, a strange-talking man came up to ask a much discombobulated sentence that came to the same result.

A previous engagement? Wait a minute...I could have sworn to have seen her on the ship. Maybe once...but I know she was there! he thought suspiciously as she walked out the door. He quickly started the hover-luggage and walked hastily outside to catch up to her.

"Wait! Miss, Wait! I know something is up! Please tell me! I saw you aboard the Manchuria! This is an emergency stop- you couldn't have anticipated it, therefore you didn't have much time to plan out events with other people- if you know any here. Not that you don't, ma'am, it's just," Reikan said as he caught up to her, pausing to catch his breath. "It's just that's how I figured you were troubled. Was it my inability to get my own food? Please tell me...I would like to help."

He smiled as he took a few deep breaths. "Besides, I have nothing else to do other than find myself a hotel."

Amy regarded Reikan with carefully guarded suspicion, wondering what part he played in this sudden turn of events. She didn't recognize this man from the Manchuria, and the odds of them reuniting here were near astronomical considering just how large the planet was, even larger considering there were two planets in the system. Still, odder things had happened, and the energy trace definitely didn't come from this man, it had lasted long enough for her to determine at least that much. Unfortunately, paranoia runs deep, and she'd had more than enough run-ins with conspiracies to avoid underestimating their reach.

She realized, of course, that just brushing him off would only confuse this apparently innocent citizen, and she didn't want to cause any more of a scene than was already aroused. Hoping to quietly extricate herself from the unpleasant situation without complicating it more, she smiled and took a moment to get control over herself. An altruistic politician is still a politician, and she knew how to spin a story when the need arose.

"I'm sorry, but I think I gave you the wrong impression. I planned to disembark from the Manchuria here anyway, my sister's been here for a few years. I just remembered that we agreed to meet for lunch; I guess it slipped my mind until I was already in the middle of ordering."

"Good you be?" Melcori asked to confirm, "Not help need?"

Her body language and spoken word, if he understood correctly, were contradictory. He was pretty sure he had understood correctly and that seemed to mean deception. Her lack of a tail skewed her physical accent and syntax but it was comprehensible to an extent. As he didn't understand her reasoning, he wished to learn more.

"Show where food place be people with?" He asked as he put an almost catch in his voice that the males of his race had generally found very effective in convincing most females, of the humanoid varieties, to render aid. It was a vocal equivilant to a bed-raggled, crying little girl in a muddy sundress clutching a battered teddy-bare holding up her arms to be picked up and taken care of.

Jerry sighed as the woman left, then rose and made his own exit, looking perfectly natural and all that good stuff. This would be, perhaps, slightly more challenging...on the other hand, maybe he could work this...

He stepped out of the way of foot-traffic and activated his burst-trans to his ship. Clever Jenny's AI, also called Jenny, responded in her usual manner...

(Encrypted Burst Transmission -->Encryption Level: Black Diamond, Transmission Medium -> Riftspace)

"Yeah, Boss?"

Jerry somehow managed to no roll his eyes. Jenny was an Ascended Armed Scout, perhaps one of the most legendary ship-types in all existence. There was a saying, very applicable, to that type of ship "Beware they who travel in armed scouts, for they are arcane and quick to anger."

"Heya, Darlin'. How's my Synth supply?"

There was an almost imperceptible pause -- would've been utterly imperceptible, to anybody not having the advantage of Jerry's hyper-perception, then...

"Full stock of Hunter Synths -- you never use those. 'personator Synths are are low, but you have those cheap throw-away ones that you designed a while ago...and they're taking up most of my forward hold."

Jerry nodded, "Alright, darlin'. Go ahead and wake up, say, five of the disposable ones, arm them with zap-guns, and send them down here. I think you know what to do, eh?"

There was laughter in Jenny's voice -- Ascended AI Constructs were very, very good, "Sure thing, Boss."

Then Jerry shadowed the woman for a while, making sure to stay close enough to her so that he'd be ready, when the facsimile Humanoid-Impersonator Synths arrived, but far enough away that she wouldn't key to her shadowing him. Of course, given his stealth skill, he could probably stand on her head without her knowing it -- especially with the help of his integral gravitics....

It wouldn't be long -- the Synths were extremely capable at their function, they just weren't good for very long, unlike real Ascended HI synths, which could function indefinitely. Unfortunately, they were also extremely complex, and given the present lack of a replenishable supply...it wasn't worth wasting them on something like this, and the facsimiles were more than sufficient, since he was just going to blow the hell out of them, anyways...

They moved very quickly, of course, in their undeployed state. They would deploy at a far enough distance to remain relatively unnoticed, assuming their humanoid forms -- in this case, individuals in flowing dusters, wearing sunglasses and floppy hats. They moved as a group, and had a very confident stride -- they were professionals.

They unerringly, mechanically, made their way towards Amy, until she was in their line of sight, then the dusters would fly open and they (there were five of them) would produce snub-nosed, boxy subguns with large drum magazines.

A cry would arise and chaos inevitably ensued, but five Rekrilian Disruptors firing in this close of quarters were...extremely effective. Sure, the synths themselves would likely be lethally radiated, but assassins...well...

Of course, they weren't going to get the chance to fire -- or they were, but their shots weren't going to hit, for even as the lethal bolts of energy burned their way through air, unnerringly tracking their way towards Amy...she was being knocked to the ground, as Jerry Ixvitl executed a magnificent flying tackle...

The bolts would scorch by over-head, leaving the smell of scorched ozone in their wake, to dissipate harmlessly in the air -- the disruptors were incredibly lethal...within their extremely limited range.

"Stay down! STAY THE HELL DOWN!"

Jerry was already rising to his feet, his own long-coat flying open to clear his draw, and a magnificent draw it was - like greased lightning. The weapon he freed was a TIW Variable Ion Arc Jet pistol, from ZMI, and like most of that nation's weaponry, had echoes of Flash Gordon and early 20th century Germany in its design, but, internally, it was pure business.

He kept the gun directly before him, though his smart-link interface gave him incredibly precision with the Speed-of-light pistol...but, like most ZMI weaponry, the Ion-Arc Jet pistol had some...pretty nasty side-effects. Side-effects that his body, being the body of a Combat Avatar, could cope with...but others likely could not.

Jerry picked his first shot carefully, then squeezed gently back on the trigger. The contacts closed, and the world went dark as his third eyelid slammed shut to save his vision from the blue-white beam that suddenly connected the pistol in his hand to the torso of one of the would-be assassins.

The pistol was purely solid-state, with no moving parts, and powered my a micro-fusion cell that would last for tens of thousands of shots -- the only requirement to fire was sufficient atmospheric gas, or a gas canister. From such simple begins, was pure destruction made.

Electronics in the area would short out as ions rampaged around, and the pistol's thermal bloom was enough to turn soil to glass. Incandescent bulbs would shatter, electronics would short out -- Jerry's implants were proof against such things, but, then, they were military-grade implants...Combat Avatar implants. There was nothing tougher, nor more advanced.

The combat synth was reduced to a pile of sparking metals and carbon ash. You could say what you liked about TIW's often un-ergonomic, silly-looking designs...but you could never, ever complain that they were ineffective.

Jerry snapped off another four shots, reducing the other four assassin-synths to similar piles of sparking dust, then safetied the pistol, spun it about his finger like some ancient earth cowboy, and returned it to its shoulder holster -- the holster, in addition to containing significant anti-scan weave, was also heavily lined with thermal resistant materials. Good thing, too.

Jerry spun on his heel and hurried back to where he'd tackled Amy, then reached down and offered her his hand.

"Sorry about that...I didn't think that they'd be willing to attack in public, so I had to move fast. My name's Jerry. Jerry Ixvitl. Captain Jerry Ixvitl. Interstellar Watch. We need to talk, somewhere with somewhat less by-standers, I think."

OOC: Revenia, the posts are great (Seriously, any other thread and they'd be perfect), but the way things are going Amy's going to drop right into the nearest Association office, identify herself, and hop on the next Corvette headed to Deneb. She might want this little vacation, but after a clear assassination attempt she's not going to follow through.

IC:

Turning to Melcori, Amy could not help but raise her eyebrows in clear confusion. She might have experience with badly pronounced Hinlish, but that last interogative, if it was an interogative, was simply unintelligible. It might almost be better if he spoke whatever was his native tounge; she didn't recognize his species, but there was always the possibility that Klonor had had some form of contact with their government and received a language-pattern, if so then it would have been present within her standard translation package. Still, before she could ask for clarification, or even wildly pantomime her confusion, five men looking like they'd come from one of the ancient Cr-Vids her father watched with the Duke appeared and raised what were clearly weapons.

Oh, bloody hell.

She might hold a purely civilian position, and she might have spent most of her adult life behind a desk, but she had still received the standard combat training all Association personnel received at their indoctrination into the government. When the five weapons were raised, clearly with hostile intention, she herself raised her arms and prepared to telekinteically swat aside whatever attack they unleashed. She was already preparing a counter-attack, wondering if she'd need a lethal response or is she could simply disarm them for later questioning, when she sensed an impact coming from behind. It was only Jerry's empty hands, and his obviously non-lethal movements, that kept her from turning and planting a palm, encased in a lethal corona of energy, right into his chest. Well, that and the fact that he slammed her to the ground before she had a chance to even turn around

As energy cracked over her head, washing her with light and heat, she wondered just what the hell was going on. There hadn't been an assassination attempt on a Klonor Consul since Abel Salm had been neturalized nearly twenty years earlier, and even he hadn't tried anything so blatant as gunning somebody down in the middle of the day. For a second the thought that it was Salm crossed through her mind, he had been incorrectly labelled deceased on two previous occasions, but she dismissed it as quickly as it appeared; she had seen his body herself. Unfortunately, eliminating him as a suspect didn't bring her any closer to identifying whoever it was that was gunning for her, she still didn't even know how they had identified her.

Whoever these people were, however, it was pretty clear that her first action would have to be to get the hell out of there. She could identify them later, as well as whatever it was they were trying to accomplish, and her responsibility now was to alert the Association of what was happening. Mary Salm (OOC: No relation to the just-mentioned Abel Salm) would need to be placed in protective custody and the Duke would have to be notified, the Corps would have to prepare for hostile action on a larger scale, and the population at large might need to be informed. When she had been bugged it seemed like her little mini-vacation was drawing to a close, it was now officially over.

Drawing herself to her feet, ignoring the hand of the man who seemed to have been trying to rescue her, she turned and faced Jerry with blatant hostility present on her face. He might have saved her life, or at least not tried to end it, but he was clearly involved in whatever was going on. Taking two quick steps backwards, she raised her right arm and pointed straight at his chest, extending her thumb and index finger as though a child making a gun. However, unlike most children, when she focused intently, the area just beyond her index finger began to shine, the air glowing with the intense energy she was concentrating into an area the size of a pea.

"Don't move, Captain."

She spoke the title as though it disgusted her to do so.

"I am hereby placing you under arrest via section 7.4.19 of the Epsilon Pegasi articles governing civilian violence. You will be detained by members of the Klonor Space Corps until such a time as your role in these events can be determined. Place your weaponry on the ground and do not attempt to vacate the area."

As she spoke she glanced around, checking to see if any of the bystanders had been hit, and waited for the appearance of the local authorities. It had been less than a minute since she had been knocked to the ground, but the Assembly Operatives should have been here long before now; one of the principal reasonings behind the ubiquitous distribution of Phase Gates was to provide government forces with the ability to respond nearly instantly to disturbances across the planet. If they didn't show up soon she would have to flee the scene herself, she was unbelievably exposed right now and simply asking for another attempt on her life, but she wanted to hold out as long as she could. Personal danger or not, she couldn't just disappear.

Noting the female's, as he was now almost absolutely certain she was, appearent confusion Melcori thought about his wording. It sounded right in his head, but then he knew that people could think one thing and say another. An aquaintence of his had been speaking with a foreigner and while she'd meant to say his proposal had merit, it had come out as he a legume called peanuts in his hair. He'd been about to try a different tack when a group of men in strange dress, vaguely akin to his own.

He'd been about to pay them no mind when a couple events occured in rapidly short order. He caught the smell of artificial life and it came from the five. As he wondered at it, the female he was taking with was tackled whilst the group drew weapons and opened fire on the place she'd been. He'd have been in the line of fire as well save for the fact that he had left the ground for the moment.

In mid-air he witnessed the first's destruction, while the cap on his tube was flicked off. From the momentarily inverted cylinder came a thousand tiny shards of metal. As they fell they caught the light in a manner most reminiscent of cherry blossems falling in the spring. However by that time the remaining assailents had been felled.

Melcori noticed that the woman was having issue with her assailent-rescuer, and as she'd aiding him it was only proper he aided her as well. A number of the shards slithered along the ground encircling the man. Should the weapon he'd been holding be drawn once more, the man would find out what it felt like to die.

(OOC: So? Events can very easily conspire to prevent such a course of action. For example, considering the character of Jerry Ixvitl (Combat Avatar and Captain of the Interstellar Watch (That isn't a lie...,) his reaction to being threaten is, six times out of seven, going to probably be to cause whatever is threatening him to become deceased. Unfortunately, this would pre-maturely end the thread. So...)

Jerry's eyes narrowed, very suddenly.

"I have identified myself as an officer of the Interstellar Watch. You have the right to request that I present the proper identification, in the form of my badge. You have the right to request my aid, or, through me, the aid of the Watch as a whole. I am not obligated to grant this request."

He remained perfectly still while he spoke, his face a blank mask -- unreadable, his tone was flat, though there was a...thing...about it, as if he was speaking to child...

"I will not be taken into custody, I will not disarm. These are not reasonable requests. Similarly, it is unreasonable to require me to restrict my movement. These things actively interfere with the Watchman's Obligation, this being, to deal with threats such as the one prior. Before you do anything stupid, such as attempt to assault me, I would note that were it not for my intervention, you would be dead. Rekrillian disruptors are notable for their method of triggering - neural interface, and for the fact that they are optimized for use against individuals capable of manipulating the fabric of reality in, ah, call it 'abnormal' manners. Psionics, magic, etc."

Even though his phrasing had become minorly less formal, his tone remained the same...

"At this time, I would request that you lower your finger, close your mouth, and remove yourself from public view, instantly. The Black Moon Syndicate, once committed, does not back down. It is possible that I am in error, but I would be bet, and I am not, normally, a betting man, a significant sum of money, that without my continued action on your behalf, you will be clinically deceased within twenty four Terran Hours."

At this time, Jerry's head would swivel slightly, so as to bring the hovering Xenocreature into his line of site.

"I would request that you, whatever you are, retrieve whatever the items presently scattered about my person are, before I am forced to presume that your intent is hostile, and take accordant action. Provided that the items arrayed about me are not a singularity generator, given a conflict situation, the probability that it will result in your death and my continued existence approaches Unity."

His head swiveled again, so as to focus his eyes directly in front of him.

"You would do well to think very hard about your wishes for the future before you contemplate hostile action against a Captain of the Interstellar Watch. Unless those wishes consist solely of a rapid and painful death, it would be wise to choose a different course of action."

Jerry's tone suddenly changed, released of that flat quality and again attaining the normal fluctuations of normal speech.

"Listen, lady, I'm just doing my damned job. My actions were performed with the intention of minimizing the loss of life - negating, actually, as the only casualties were the Syndicate assassins, who, you will note, are constructs - resulting from this attack. I would note that Syndicate Assassins have, in the past, usually only made use of weaponry other than weapons of mass destruction when they were assigned to engage a target that might be able to counter those normal methods. A hit of this type - special circumstances - would see the Assassins eliminate the target, presumably you, with the specialized weapons, then detonate some sort of mass-destructive device to 'cover their tracks.' In handling the threat as I did, I was able to prevent them from achieving this result."

Jerry then quirked an eyebrow, "If it is will of the State of Klonor that the Interstellar Watch refrain from saving the lives of its citizens, this is a legitimate request, and one that I would be more than willing to transfer my superiors. On the other hand, if you wish to live beyond tomorrow, I suggest you get real grateful, real quick."

On that note, he ended his little speech.

Reikan nodded, a slight disheartened frown on his lips. "Well, it would be best to get to your sister as fast as you can then. Family always comes first," he said, changing his frown into a slightly fake smile. Reikan had become curious of the woman. There was clearly something wrong, or atleast something strange was going on.

Especially since he would fall to the ground as weapon fire soared overhead aimed at the lady he was just talking to. And it seemed another man had taken interest in the woman. He had seen him in the fast food joint before...

As everyone- minus the strange-talking one- got up, another scene arose as the woman seemed to be threatening the man who saved her.

Yet clearly the woman wasn't happy about this, then again, he wouldn't be if an assassination attempt was just committed on supposedly safe grounds. Then again, he didn't trust this idea of an assassination attempt. If she was someone of assassination material, wouldn't she be surrounded by bodyguards, the surrounding area cleared out, or in disguise? Then again, he didn't trust the man who had "saved" the woman's life.

"Sir, I think it would be wise to go with the Law enforcement. There, tell them what you know and the proper guard shall protect her," Reikan said as he rose from the ground. "Besides, you could have warned the lady in the fast food joint, you were there with a large meal. Perhaps then you wouldn't quite be in this predicament. But that also brings me to wonder, how would you know to look here in the right place at the right time?"

He looked up at the floating man, then at the shards on the ground. He looked harmless enough if not threatened, if a bit clueless.

He was unsure if doing this helped at all, but it may look like he is in charge, perhaps diverting attention from the young lady and to him instead? Then again, if she was the assassins target, they wouldn't care so much about him. He couldn't help but feel a bit smug at the feeling that he had sounded important.

Amy listened quite calmly to Jerry's entire speech, taking notice of the hovering alien as Jerry spoke to him, and considered the impact of everything she had just been told. She then, of course, promptly ignored its entirety. The Interstellar Watch was not a national, political, or economic organization with which she was familiar, and unless this was another one of the Duke's personal playthings (The man has way to many, but this being wasn't displaying any of the usual signs), they had no agreement, officially or unofficially, with the Association to operate within their territory. Klonor was firm in its independence, and it didn't allow alien organizations free operation without significant reason and negotiation, and she would be familiar with either. Unless this organization was so altruistic that they didnt care whose laws they violated, something else was going on here.

Additionally, this all seemed to be a bit too perfectly orchestrated, the apparently random man she had met while dining was quite persistent in his attempts to make contact, and the other alien she'd met seemed to be involving himself, too, though whether those glittering fragments were hostile or not was anybody's guess. It couldn't be coincidence that all three of these men were eating alongside her five minutes earlier, and that Melcori and Reikan were so selfless as to involve themselves in such an obviously lethal situation without an ulterior motive. At least Reiakn seemed to be marginally sane, he was at least pushing for subservience to the proper authorities.

"The Interstellar Watch, whatever that may be, has no responsibility or authority within the Associated Systems of Klonor; and if you were truly aware of a threat on my life it is only logical that you should have informed the Corps, we could have avoided this entire situation."

It had been way too long since the commencement of hostilities; the police should have been here long before now. Average response time was measured in seconds, to think that it had already been a few minutes could not be explained by incompotence, it was bordering on conspiracy.

Of course, so did a lot of what else was happening.

"You claim to be here in the capcity of a protector, a claim which is not directly contradicted by your actions, but that does not change the blatant violation of civilian combat laws within Klonor borders. You will be detained and investigated until your role in these events is clarified, if you were truly only trying to protect myself then you will be released with all due courtesy and apology."

Amy glanced behind her, looking for the nearest Phase Gate. Lack of official response or not, she could not continue to just wait around for somebody else to take a shot at her. Logic and self-preservation were, for once, in complete agreement: she had to leave.

"If there is truly a continued threat to my well-being you can inform the proper authorities and they will take the proper steps, including involving you if it is a necessity. Until that point, I repeat my previous statements: you will be detained. Representatives of the Epsilon Pegasi authority will arrive momentarily to take you into custody."

Without even a verbal "goodbye" she spun on her heel and dashed to the Communi-Gate a few dozen feet down the street, surrounded by a shimmering corona of pearlescent light as she enveloped herself in a shield of protective energy.

Jerry rolled his eyes, and did not bother even trying to get in a response for the woman made her exit. Afterwards, however...

"Well. Just goes to show you that even when you try and save someone's life, all they want to do is fuck you over..."

At this time, Jerry would shake his head, almost sadly, and leave the area. He would shortly duck behind some sort of obstruction...and vanish. In his place was a small 'card,' made of an alien and incredibly durable metallic substance. Upon the card was written: "This has been a sanctioned operation of the Interstellar Watch. Kindly deposit objections in the proper receptacle for immediate disposal into the nearest stellar entity, because we don't care. The Interstellar Watch: Ignoring Sovereignty since before your pathetic race existed!"
--

Onboard the IWPS Clever Jenny, presently elsewhere

"Jenny, my dear...Scotch, if you would be so kind..."

The requested drink appeared in his hand. However, the AI could not restrain herself from commenting.

"Honestly, Boss...I don't see why you bother drinking that stuff. You're physically incapable of getting drunk..."

Jerry smiled and stared into the liquor, "I suspect that it's for the same reason that I bother with pretty women -- it lets me pretend that I'm something normal. At least for a little while."

Then he laughed.

Roughly thirty seconds later, his laughter had subsided...and he had returned to feeling depressed. Vicious cycle.

"At any rate, Jenny, run a couple more Synths out of the 'cator. Go ahead and go to active-stealth, too. No reason to give anything away."

He tossed off the Scotch, then shook his head wryly.

"Darlin', what ever happened to the good old days, when all you needed to do to get a girl was kill something at random? Now, you've got to go through all this...gah. Remind me again why I didn't do the hormone-trick?"

The AI giggled, "Because you're an honorable man?"

Jerry snorted as he refilled his Scotch...seemingly magically. "Hah! Me! Honorable! Funny!"

Jenny's voice reflected a shrug, "I do try."

Landing lightly Melcori watched the female reprimand her assailent, as was proper. The culture he came from was of a matriarchal slant, and that alone was his only motivation. A man was not a man if he would harm a woman or allow one to come to harm if he could prevent it, that was one of the guiding principles to his people.

The shards moved back to the tube as she departed and with a rude gesture that was neither translatable nor understandable outside of those who knew the language at Jerry, he continued his search for food that was served by people. Walking down the street, he paused every so often to sniff the air in an attempt to find the proper smells.