NationStates Jolt Archive

Palace du Nuit has been chosen by Tanaara to be their Royal Residence & Embassy for the span of the conference, given it's proximity to the Grand Library. The Grand Library is the primary confrence hall on the International Isle. The Palace du Nuit is not the largest palace available but it is the most elegant. It sits on nearly a square mile of exquisite gardens, glades of trees, a fifty acre lake, countelss statues, ponds, and fountains

HRH Mercedez Merrideath Hex, better known to her friends and family as simply Mercy, looked over the last details concerning the Fatal Terrain Regional Conference that Tanaara was hosting at Fatal Terrain's International Isle. The Conference was over two years in the making and the assorted details, both large and small, had been enough to have various people pulling their hair out. Some had decided to simplify matters by shaving their heads.

"Tarlachia, as founder, really should have hosted this not so little nightmare" One of the half dozen secretaries tapping away at their PDA's complained. It was a complaint that had fallen ever more frequently from people's lips as the headaches multiplied exponentially.

"Would never have gotten this far, not with Aeris needing to try and get Tarlachia on any sort of reasonable footing." Mercy shook her head in firm disagreement with the notion that Tarlachia could have been the host for the conference. The decade long war had all but reduced the once proud nation of Tarlachia to a mere shell of itself. And now, a mere two and a half years later, while Tarlachia was rebuilding faster than most thought possible -Tarlachia and their young empress Aeris, just didn't have the time to devote to hosting the first regional conference in a very long time. "Be glad that they are even sending a delegation."

The invitations had gone out eighteen months ago, as was normal to try and schedule busy heads of states to any gathering. RSVP's had been recieved, the whole other nightmare of security for said heads of states had gathered its own unique cluster of problems. The International Isle's airport, and it's port, available for those that prefered to arrive by boat, were swarming with military - to satisfy every one, Tanaara had approached the Empire of Tanara to handle, coordinate and oversee all aspects of security.

Individual heads of states might have their own national or private security forces, but those would be inside their 'bubble'. Each's 'bubble' would be further surrounded by agents of the Empire and all the future tech, magic and psionic goodies they had available. Mercy had no intention of anything even remotely resembling a security incident even thinking of rearing it's head. The Empire was even putting one of their warcraft and a hospital ship in geosync orbit, with aerospace fighters flying highguard constantly.

The various residences, palaces, mansions, castles and confrence centers, banquet halls, ball rooms, exhibition halls and such had all been thoroughly secured, their staffs vetted, etc, etc, etc...all part of the trillion and one details that HRH Hexx required be 'picture perfect'. And very effeciently the Queen had gotten what she required, in the matter of the conference at least.

"Mercy, how are you and Rob Ryan settleing in?" Robyn, one of Mercy's private secretaries, and close friend asked concernedly. The queen who was a busy working monarch, could have delegated much of the work on the conference - and she had - but she still insisted on giving the final stamp of approval personally and taking final responsibility as well. She wasn't the sort to shirk hard work, or hard decissions.

"I slept like a log, fortuantely we just went what, two time zones east?. It could have been worse."

"Kazuma's with Rob Ryan right now exploring." At eighteen, and just formally invested as Crown Prince, Robert Ryan Fortier Hexx was a bundle of energy and had been his mothers right hand in setting up the Regional Conference.

OOC: Aeris, not Arleni.
IC:

In all of the places there were possible to visit around the region alone, the International Isle was one place that Aeris had never been to. A click and hiss indicated the multiple locks holding the wide ramp of one of the newly designed SkyWolf class space-faring ships. Yes, even with the rebuilding efforts exceeding most expectations, Tarlachia's best and brightest still had opportunity to improve or create better things. The costs would be high for now, and debt would be an issue for a time, but proper budgeting, proper care of the nation of Tarlachia and its assets would ensure that everything would be paid off within a ten to fifteen year plan.

The SkyWolf fleet were battleships, to put it simply. A sleek exterior allowed for smooth transmission through atmospheres, and its interiors, well, they were still tightly guarded as to exactly what was held inside. Tarlachia had its rights to hold some of its own secrets, and it chose to do so now. The SkyWolf fleet schematics was one of the large files that were kept very well hidden, free from technological intrusion, protected in such a way that should unauthorized persons approach, the file would simply relocate. A simple spell really, but no one other than a privileged few knew just which of a insanely high number of places possible the file would appear.

Closing her eyes for a moment to savor the warm sunshine that bathed the on-ramp in a soothing glow. She inhaled, pleased to smell fresh earthly air, a welcome change from the processed air that the ship produced. Then, at last she moved forward with confident steps and laid foot upon the earth. She gazed about at the strong Tanaran security detail that seemed to permeate the island, and smiled.

"Nothing to make you feel more at home than in the company of friends." she said to herself. She continued forward, a small security detail in tow along with several assistants, some carrying luggage, others holding various other important items. She noted the arcane elements being employed harmoniously with Tanaran security and shook her head approvingly. Mercy was a smart woman, smart to know when certain things would be necessary. It had been Aeris' pleasure to provide the assistance to fuse the arcane technology with some of the Tanaran technology. Together, they were stronger, more defensive, although each were quite strong already in their own regard. Now, it was simply a very minuscule chance that such an enhanced system could be disabled or destroyed by hostile forces.

Aeris and her envoy passed through the security gates of the Tarlachian private port, a humming noise indicating the active screening devices were working. A series of light beeps indicated all persons had been scanned for weaponry. There were also arcane inhibitors stationed throughout the island, a personal contribution by Aeris as a defense mechanism against all who were capable of wielding magic. These inhibitors were set up to disrupt all arcane channels of energy, diverting them harmlessly away from the island. Those that relied on magic to actually live on a day to day basis would be able to use just enough for that, but otherwise be just as restricted.

A series of doors opened in the mansion before her, allowing her to pass the many servants standing at attention inside the doors. She immediately moved to her private room, but not before leaving instructions for small tasks. "Leave me be for an hour." she had instructed once she was finished. "No one is to disturb me unless they are other heads of state."

Loosening her hair, she shook it free in the comfort of her room, scanning the furniture that had arrived surreptitiously by Tanaran command. Slowly, each garment that hung from her body was dropped to the floor or a nearby chair as she neared the bathroom and the inviting walk-in shower. Within minutes, hot steam could be seen inside the shower, billowing out for a moment as she opened the glass door and slipped inside.

Hot, but not scalding water poured over her as she enjoyed her first earth-bound shower in six months. She had traveled directly from a distant Tarlachian outpost, having made inspections on colonial progress and exploration of nearby planets. So far, everything was moving smoothly enough. Then, the letter from Tanaaran Queen Mercy arrived via zip-beam, a relatively new process of small item transportation over vast distances such as space. It worked quite similar to a portal or wormhole, but to manage a larger entryway such as one large enough to accommodate people, would have been extremely difficult. It was also another joint technological creation.

Emerging from the shower and promptly drying herself off, Aeris dressed, then collapsed upon the bed that beckoned to her with soft calls. It wouldn't be for a few hours until the opening reception would be held. Until then, she had every intention to gain as much sleep as possible.

The Boeing 747 touched down on the tarmac, bouncing once before the pilot began to ease her to taxing speed. The airplane was completely white spare for its red tail and black markings along the hull. The seal of the Republic of The Golden Simatar was on either side of the front of the plane. As the plane began to taxi towards the terminal, a flight of four of grayish-blue F22 fighter planes circled overhead, watching as the 747 reached the terminal before they began to make their landings.

President Catherine Zhao waited patiently in the aircraft as her personal security checked the immediate area. Along with her usual security, six paratroopers were with the group. They would not travel with the President; their purpose was to only act as embassy ground guards while the Tanarans handled the outside.

Catherine Zhao was fifty-seven years old, but there were only a few minute signs of aging on her skin. Her black hair was fading, but she kept some coloration in it, but her soft green eyes were still full of life and vigor. She was somewhat short, standing just less than 5’10, but during her time as a Representative and briefly as a Senator, her opponents could attest to her holding her own and beating them down.

Zhao was a new president, only two years in office. She had taken over from Paul Mirren, who had served during the decade long demon conflict and after that he did not go for reelection and simply opted to retire to his country estate. Zhao was fairly popular with the people of the Golden Simatar and Democrat. This was the largest thing she had done so far in her Presidency. She had been planning to go on the customary tour of allied countries, but when the invitation came for the meeting, this would substitute.

So far back home she had worked hard to keep the Golden Simatar’s economy booming and also she began work to upgrade the Golden Simatar’s military. After the demonic wars, the military leaders decided it was time to make a transition of technology. The Simatarian military had received some older model and used machines from the Tanarans, but there were less than fifty of them for the whole military. The Leopard 2A6E still made up the bulk of the armor force. But, Zhao had granted funds to the Department of Defense to begin research of homegrown vehicles and small arms, though it was still in development.

Zhao looked over at her Secretary of Defense Nicholas Lussier, who had commanded the whole of the Simatarian Military during the demon wars. After that, he had left the military, but Zhao had scooped him up to be her Sec. Def and knowing that military might come up in the meetings; she would keep an ear open to what he was saying when he sat next to her.

The clear given, Zhao and her group departed the aircraft while ground crews loaded their luggage into waiting vehicles. Meanwhile, Mirren and her group went to another set of vehicles; she got in the front limousine with some of her aides while others got in the luxury sedans and limos to follow. As they road, she stared out at the window, she was slightly nervous about this as she was still a new president and had yet to meet the other leaders of Fatal Terrain. She only hoped it wouldn’t play a big part in anything.

After a twenty minute ride, the convoy pulled up to the wrought iron gates of the Simatarian Embassy. The gates slid open and the vehicles proceeded inwards. Zhao looked out the window and smiled as the saw the large mansion appear in front of her. Done in a Victorian style, the mansion was perched upon a hill and its lands were surrounded by a thick hedge that wrapped around the traditional fence. Though it looked easy to get through, the hedge did have numerous security sensors inside. Inside the sprawling building were a small indoor pool, a small gym, a large library, offices, kitchen, and dinning room, everything that was needed for the comforts of home. In the back was an Olympic size swimming pool, some gardens as well as just down the hill from where the mansion sat, horse stables. Zhao had no use for them, they had been put in there by a previous president and only used a few times and now was just used for storage.

When they pulled up to the large, marble stairs, Zhao got out and smiled, it should be a good day. The embassy staff head came out and introduced himself before the rest came out and unloaded the luggage. Two of the Simatarian Paratroopers were dropped off at the guardhouse at the front gate; both were only armed with pistols and a single shotgun. The other Paratroopers went to the main house to take over the security room.

Zhao supervised everything being moved inside, making sure everything is where she wanted it for maximum efficiency. After nearly an hour, she was satisfied that her staff could handle everything else before she went out to the back, marble porch and stared out across the thirty acre area of grass and trees. She would have to make a note to get the pool up and running so she could take a swim after the initial meeting.

Going back inside, she got the staff head to give her a tour.

"Should we really be here?" the man asked as he withdrew his gaze from the no-nonsense Tanaaran soldiers that awaited him at the end of the gangplank. "I mean, after all, this isn't really our arena."

"Nevermind, that. It'll be fun." replied William Claybrook, Caebhersiobh's Praetor Eilthir. He stepped onto dry land and stopped, pausing a moment to breath in the sea air. Looking about at their honour guard, he asked, "A bit paranoid, don't you think?"

"You're nuts." Parliamin Lucias Pawley said as he shuffled by toward the sedan awaiting them. "Sitting around a table with a bunch of glittery diplomats for hours on end discussing border disputes is not fun. And no, with this number of important personages in such close proximity, it's perfectly reasonable to employ a high level of security." He stopped at the car and turned to beckon his friend on. "Now come on, the sooner we're out of open air the safer I'll feel."

Claybrook grimased but complied with the request. "Well you signed on to this trip." he said reproachfully as they entered the vehicle.

"The Missus wanted to do some antiquing." Pawley replied, letting out a mournful sigh.

Claybrook grinned broadly and clapped Pawley on the shoulder. "I didn't know Betty was to join us."

"She'll arrive a bit later. Schedule conflict; some literary committee thing. In the meantime," Pawley looked into Claybrook's eyes with a sobering stare, "we have to deal with Imitora's expansionary intentions, Tarlachia's mounting debts, new leadership in Golden Scimitar, and lord knows what else will crop up."

"Like I said," Claybrook replied, "fun."

Pawley silently shook his head and looked out the window as they made their way across Internisle. They were a disparate pair, physically as well as in personality. Claybrook's broad and imposing build to Pawley's wiry figure; graceful ease to deliberate movement; light, soft features to dark, finely chiseled ones; outgoing charm to inobtrusive reservedness; sumptuous silks to a somewhat disheveled tweed. Nevertheless the two had formed a friendship that extended beyond their official capacities as members of Caebhersiobh's Senate and Parliament respectively.

"Isn't that our residence?" Pawley asked, as they passed an elegant country manor.

"Yes, but we won't be stopping yet." Claybrook said. "I thought we might first pay a visit to our gracious hostess, Princess Mercedez. You know the old saying: strike hard..."

"... strike first." Pawley concluded.

"Mom. security says that the Empress Aeris has arrived, as well as the President of the Golden Simatar, Ms. Zhao and Praetor Eilthir Claybrook of Caebhersiobh." Rob Ryan informed Mercy as he strode into her private sitting room with Kazuma trailing slightly behind. While the tall, and exceedingly handsome Crown Prince went to give his mother a hug before dropping gracefully on to the couch beside her, Kazuma went over to his Lady Robyn and gave her a light kiss on the cheek.

"The GeeSeer's have a stables on the grounds of their embassy, but it didn't look like they had any horses." The Crown Prince continued.

"Well I'm sure some of the delegates like to ride, we just have to find out which ones. The Queen like to ride but prefered fast cars by just a bit more. With her son, his half Imitoran heritage had it running evenly divided. He was already a highly skilled driver, having been through several special courses of training, and he'd been riding since he could walk. His last birthday had seen a double whammy of birthday presents, his choice of a horse from the Tanaaran State Stud, one of the finest breeding establishments in the world horse and his mother's cherished Present, the one of a kind supercar that Robert Fortier, his fathe, had made just for her.

Before they could discuss the possibility of a mounted jaunt, Security announced that Caebhersiobh's Praetor Eilthir William Claybrook of Caebhersiobh and Parliamin Lucias Pawley had arrived and requested an audience.

"Oh I'm gload they've come over, I've never met them. Caebhersiobhians don't seem to travel much, and other than the official welcome of their Ambassador to Court, I've never met any. Please escort them up and bring a tray of nibbles. I'm sure that Chef Sung knows some Caebhersiobhian delicacies, but mix in some of our favorites too, they may want to try the 'exotic' stuff." Mercy adivsed the aide, then dismissed all but her personal secretaries - Robyn and Kazuma, and Sinjin and Khadri.

The foursome often got labeled as Her Majesties Unofficial Cabinet by the press, but the five had been more than just friends forever - They were closest thing to family Mercy had - and didn't mind it a bit, especially as it was very true. Sinjin headed over to the massive antique wet bar, he enjoyed being the bar tender, though none of the four were heavy drinkers.

Mercy stood to go look in a mirror, she didn't want to present a disheveled appearance to her first guests.

"Mom, you look fine. All my friends tell me you look hotter than any of the girls out there, and they are drop dead envious of me." Rob Ryan teased but there was truth in his words.

Mercy had access to0 the finest medical treatment that the Tanaran Empire had to offer, as good as the Tanaran Empress herself had, and while she was nearly fifty she certainly did not look it or act it. The Empire's potent technology had lengthened her life span as well.

Mercy loooked no more than perhaps thirty six, with a clear creamy complection that set off her bright golden blonde hair and dark blue eyes perfectly. Her waist was slender and her moves as graceful as a dancers. Her build was definitely feminine - in common slang, the Queen was stacked. Though she no longer wore the all but painted on leather pants and midriff bareing tops, some of her formal outfits did nothing to hide her physical assets.

She shook her head at her unrepenetant son and returned to the sofa. "If you say so." While his friend's compliments pleased her, she really prefered to hear if she was doing a good job as monarch.

The two men walked briskly up the steps into the Palace de Nuit's atreum hall. They were being led through the palace's corridors by a Tanaaran that Pawley very much suspected, in spite of the perfectly innoculous ceremonial garb, had ten or twelve years armed service experience behind him. The pace gradually quickened to the point that their procession was lent a dignified aire of urgency as a battle of wills ensued between their guide, who was intent not to appear pushed, and Claybrook, who was intent to subtly lead. Tap, tap, tap! Claybrook's walking stick struck the ground with each step, markedly announcing his presence to any passerbys.

'God damn him,' Pawley though to himself, not exclusively for the small cramp developing in his hip. 'He's going to use up any good will due us if he keeps acting as if this were a game!'

"If you will kindly wait here, Sirs," the guide said as he ushered them into an antechamber, "Her Highness will see you shortly." The man bowed and exited backward. Pawley politely thanked him for his service as Claybrook made a beeline to the mirror.

"How do I look?" Claybrook asked as he fussed with his tie and straightened his clothing. He wore an elegantly cut charcoal pinstripe suit under a ceremonial blue cloak trimmed by grey fur. The walking stick at his side, a common affectation among Caebhersiobh aristocracy, was carved of solid maghogany and topped with a bronze knob. At sixty-four he still appeared strong enough to crush skulls with his fists and the grey hairs that had entangled their way onto his carefully groomed blond head managed only to lend a distinguished quality.

Pawley, knowing his opinion wasn't really being sought, did not even bother looking in his friend's direction when he answered, "Immaculate."

A period of still silence lasted between them. Claybrook finally said, "Don't you want to know how you look?" Rolling his eyes, Pawley asked the question requested of him. Claybrook took a moment to ponder over the appearance of his friend and then, after a dramatic sigh, answered, "Adequate."

"Thank you," Pawley said nonplussed, "now can we move on?" He continued to sum the basic points in brief of the Tanaaran Queen and her inner circle.

Claybrook grumbled. "Our intelligence of our neighbours is woefully lacking." he said.

"Yes, well," said Pawley, "that is one of the things we're here, -you're- here, I should say, to deal with." To this Claybrook merely grinned wolfishly.

The doors to the antechamber began to slowly open as the two men were admitted into the presence of Queen Mercedez. They quickly fell into line, abreast with Pawley a step behind, and proceeded through. When they had closed the gap to ten feet of the Queen, both bowed respectfully, though not deferentially.

"William Claybrook, Your Majesty," he introduced himself, his voice lowering to a resonating bass as he extended his free hand with the palm out in a sweeping gesture of honesty and openness, "imperial representative of the Republic of Caebhersiobh." Pawley smiled inwardly. Of a sudden, his oft time silly friend had transformed into a being just as regal as the monarch they stood before. No, Caebhersiobh might not have the might, or the clout, or connections that the other nations of the Fatal Terrain community were endowed with but in terms of gravitas, Claybrook at his best could match anything the other delegations threw at him.

"And may I introduce my colleague, Mr. Lucias Pawley," Claybrook continued, "who is attending as an observer for the Caebhersiobh Parliament." Pawley nodded at the introduction but said nothing.

"We are delighted to be a part of this historic moment, and wish to express our appreciation personally for the tireless effort your Majesty has made to bring about this grand convocation of regional sovereigns."

Nancia navigated the atmospheric flight with the grace and ease that she exhibited in space. Upon entering the restricted zone she sent out her message and clearance request.

"This is FN-935 of Central Worlds courier service. I bring delegates for the conference. We are an unarmed, I repeat, unarmed vessel. Aboard are Queen Lauralin Silverlief of Dragonsreach, King Turquine Buccannah of Highport. Viscountess Fritti Lightfoot of Vastnear and president Anita Chung of Central Worlds and we request clearance to enter restricted space."

Upon receiving the clearance Nancia made for the airport where her charges would be taken to the Mansion for the Highport delegates. None were sure if the mansion for Dragonsreach was still around. After the death of Aversin it stood vacant as Lauralin attempted to reign in the nation that had been left behind.

Vastnear had never participated in any conferences before since it was a mix of various Baronies. Viscountess Lightfoot, often called tailchaser, was the most powerful of them. Baroness of one, Overlady of another. Leader and head instructor for the fighters guild, she also had the support of the mages guild and the healers guild. Her alliances with three other baronies and her friendship with a fourth placed her in a high position. Only one would not speak with her, or any of the others and it was that one that was the greatest threat, with it's propensity for assassinations.

Central Worlds held no position here either. Only the fact that it was within an area of space with which they were aware drew any attention. That and the fact that another nation had already shown spaceflight to Dragonsreach, and the attempt of the nation to reach out to the stars was better assisted than left alone.

Forister and Micaya were busy playing Tri-chess as Nancia approached thier destination. Forister, or Frost, as Micaya liked to call him, had been a special operative for most of his life. Semi retired, he accepted what he wanted, typically working with Micaya on special assignment.

Micaya, or General Micaya Quester-Benn, was in the special divisions section of Central Worlds Legion. It was her job to secure the mansion along with the cyborgs she had brought along. Anything outside the perimeter was the pervue of Tanaran security. Anything inside was hers to deal with, and she didn't deal with intrusion lightly. The engraving along the barrel of her pulse plasma magnum said it all: 'Here's my idea of negotiation'.

Lauralin, watching the game with interest, absorbing the way in which the two masters played, suddenly reached forward, her staff appearing on summons and gripped it tightly. Forister looked in alarm as her eyeteeth slid from her gum sheaths and reached over to tap Micaya on the hand to get her attention, only briefly disrupting the holographic chess board.

"Are you alright?", he asked.

Lauralin took a moment to answer as her father laid aside the information on the nations that should be attending and moved toward her.

"Magic is dampened here. My preternatural link is becoming more difficult to control, but I shall manage", she said as she forced her eyeteeth back and suppressed her thirst for blood by sheer force of will. She closed her eyes, gathering her what magic she was allowed and used it to bolster her resistance to the vampiric thirst.

Though he meant well, her father, a holy knight and an avatar of his god, was only making things more difficult for her as her dark nature tried to rebel against his presence.

Fritti uncurled herself from the reentry couch and moved away. Though she liked Lauralin, vampires had always been a nuisance in her realm and the Queen still made her nervous.

President Anita Chung sat at one of the consoles, reviewing her own material and glanced back, fascinated by the transformation. She had heard of the Queen of Dragonsreach, but had only met her on this trip. Vampirism was a tale told to children in Central Worlds, as was magic, at least she had alway thought it only that.

Upon landing Micaya stood and moved to the ramp, followed by a dozen of the legion cyborgs. There meters in height they had an air cooled .50 caliber gatlin gun with explosive rounds on they're left arms, fast recovery lasers mounted on the right arm and two shoulder launchers with micro missles on the right and grenades on the left. They're combat chasis was high density duralloy, able to sustain pretty much anything but a direct missle strike and had a full onboard combat computer, an array of vision and scanning equipement and ECMs built into them. These would be the guards for the mansion.

Once deployed they secured the area around the craft as Micaya scanned the area. Micaya, herself, it was said, was more machine than human, though no one knew for sure. Well into her fifties her salt and pepper hair was cut short, ending at the base of her skull. She had an athletes body, all quick strength and flexibility and a no nonesense look forged by over thirty years of military service. Arrangement had been made to take the delegates directly to the mansion, surrounded by the borgs and the Tanaran forces and Micaya made sure that the arrangements were set. She did so in a crisp and efficient manner. Rude, some people might say, but she cared nothing for what people thought of her. In all her time she had never lost a battle or a charge and she had no intention of starting now.

Forister ran a hand through his own greying hair that still showed some brown. Older than Micaya he was still sharp and still in good shape. He would stay with Nancia on the FN-935 to keep her company while the others handled the conference.

Lauralin, leaning somewhat on her staff for support, was a buxom and curvacious woman. She looked young, though she was close to forty, appearing to be in her early twenties. She wore a pack on her back and for traveling, favored her light blue silk tunic with her golden sash. On the right shoulder of the sash was an emblem. It was a silver oakleaf, inside it was a ball of flame and seeming to punch throught the flame was a fist. On the leaf, under the ball of flame was one word. 'Defenders'. She wore leather breeches and high, soft leather boots. She wondered, now, if she could summon the clothing she had intended to wear and made a point to enquire about clothing shops, if any were available. The less power she used at this point, the better off she was. She already regretted summoning the staff, but it had been a reflex action.

Lauralin stood five and half feet tall. Flame red hair cascaded down her back, ending only an inch above the ground and seemed to float about her as she moved, as though the flame of her natural sorcerous power enveloped her like a halo. Her skin was pale and she had small, slightly pointed ear and thin lined eyebrows, showing her elven heritage. If her feminine figure didn't catch the eye, or her long hair, then her bright emerald green eyes normally would. Those eyes were scanning the area, like a seasoned soldier, rather than a pampered queen.

Turquine, who followed closely behind her, gave no doubt about his status as a warrior. He wore full plate armor, with his helm held, currently, under his right arm. His chain coif and padded hood was pulled back, showing iron gray hair that was cut in military fashion. On the right side of his black armor, with an emblazoned red dragon, diving and breathing fire, was slung his sword. Retribution's voice was a holy blade, forged by his god for him to carry in his name. A crystaline sword, it was harder than any metal known to dragonsreach and highport and pulled only in defence of himself or others.

He stood just slightly taller than his daughter and his age was indetermenate. Because he looked young, but because in his battle with a black dragon over a century and a half ago, the flesh of his face had been struck they acid, causing it to run in rivelets and leaving it deformed. His glacial blues eyes, however, showed a gentleness that could would change quickly in the advent of an attack and altered them to a steel gray when angered. His body, when it could be seen as it could not be now, was all hard lines, with thick, almost steel like cabled muscle rippling beneath the skin. His eyes, too, scanned the area, searching for a threat that didn't appear.

Next came Tailchaser. Known to those here as Viscountess Lightfoot she padded down the ramp in a sleek and silent trot. A catfolk, she had a sveldt feminine form with a deep black, almost blue black fur and dark green eyes. Her tail twitched as she gazed about her unfamiliar surroundings in a form of agitation of an unknown area. She carried no weapons, her claws and teeth being all she would need in many cases, though she carried, and was familiar with an array of melee weapons. Though she scanned the area as well, she sniffed the air to seek a possible threat more than relying on her sight. Though perfectly content to leave her dignity to her fur she wore a silk shirt, short skirt and a leather vest, out of respect for the preference for clothes the most, if not all, of the other delegates would wear.

President Anita Chung came last, tapping out something on a PDA. She had what could be considered an oriental cast to her. Her hair was a deep brown, almost black, though it seemed to have some red highlight in the sun and her eyes were a chocolate brown. She was tanned, often spending time on various worlds and stood taller even than the King, about as tall as the Viscountess at just under 5'10". She didn't seem to pay any attention to what was around her, relying on Micaya to handle any situation that came up.

They were taken to a vehicle that was provided, which Micaya had already scanned, which would take them directly to the mansion for Highport. As they entered the vehicle, Micaya put a contact button on each of them, so that Forister and Nancia could monitor them. The button would allow them to see and hear what was happening and even speak throught the button if the need arose.

"We are delighted to be a part of this historic moment, and wish to express our appreciation personally for the tireless effort your Majesty has made to bring about this grand convocation of regional sovereigns."

’What a wonderful voice he has’ Mercy thought delightedly. The Queen had risen as the Caebhersiobhian dignitaries had been admitted, her son and friends rising as well. Her dimples appeared as her lips curved in one of her brilliant smiles. 'I am so glad to meet the both of you, and so pleased that you could come and be a part of the Conference" She replied as she dipped in a tiny but equally respectful curtsey.

His youthful features alight with friendly curiosity Rob Ryan made a slight bow, as did Mercy's friends

Mercy (http://www.atddm.com/mmx1.gif) stepped forward, taking Williams extended hand in both of hers - her grip light, but in no way weak. "Please, might I call you William?" Eyes twinkling, her dimples flashed again as her dazzling smile returned. Then she turned to Lucias. "And you Lucias? Please, I don't wish any formality here, so could you just call me Mercy?"

She hoped she was making the two men feel at ease, as she drew them towards the comfortable chairs that were across from the sofa. Mercy stood on protocol only when it was absolutely necessary.

"Let me introduce my son and heir Robert Ryan Fortier- Hexx.”

Rob nodded as he waited to seat his mother. Once she was comfortable he sat beside her, but not crowding against her.

“And these are my dear friends Sinjin Lord Kincannon (http://www.atddm.com/sinjin.jpg)" She indicated Sinjin, standing at the antique wet bar, ready to take any drink requests. In his late thirties, he was just under six foot, slim with black hair and dark grey eyes that danced with good humor. "Lady Khadri Van Maartin (http://www.atddm.com/34.gif)," Lady Khadri was almost the height of her consort and moved with a gymnasts, or martial artist's, limberness. Her light bronze hair went well with her deep tan and light blue eyes.
"Lord Kazuma (http://www.atddm.com/Tomo1.jpg) and Lady Robyn Shimada (http://www.atddm.com/robyn1a.jpg)." Lady Shimada was an inch taller than her husband and her smile was as warm as every ones save Kazuma's. He, as his name suggested, was Japanese, while Robyn was definitely Caucasian. His look was politely neutral; one got the feeling that he did not smile easily. All of them were keenly observant, and very lethal - they were not only Mercy's inner circle, they were her last line of protection, and all of them had killed to protect her in the past, and undoubtedly would again. Their titles were not simply empty, they had all earned them and continued to every day.

“Would you care for something to quench your thirst, or something potent?” Mercy enquired once introductions had been made.

[William Claybrook, Palace de Nuit]

"Of course, Mercy." Claybrook said magnaminously as the Queen offered him familiarity. "I too prefer to engague in a more casual setting whenever possible. Protocol can, indeed, be at times stiffling."

To Prince Robert, Claybrook nodded his head respectfully upon the introduction. To the others, he spared a thoughtful glance and polite smile. The royal heir was worth his attention; underlings were not. Pawley, meanwhile, offered each a quiet murmor of greeting.

The two sat down at the proffered chairs. Claybrook set aside his walking stick and leaned his body back, one arm resting casually on that of the chair while the other lay on his thigh. "Scotch." he said, at the offer of refreshment while his companion quickly added, "Bourbon." Pawley was sitting straight in his chair, his legs crossed and both hands resting loosely on his knee.

Claybrook wasted no time in taking the initiative and began to speak. "Although it is my desire to see Caebhersiobh's relations strengthened with all of our neighbours through the course of this summit, I hope that this marks but the first of many meetings between us, Mercy, that we may discuss, with the advantage of candor and privacy, issues relevant to the region, our respective nations, or..." His eyes never left hers as he raised a hand to make a shallow, sweeping gesture, adding in a more ambiguous tone, "what-have-you.

"I feel it would be beneficial to take the time to get to know one another, our cultures and traditions, so that come the time of assembly, Tanaara and Caebhersiobh may stand aside each other equal in understanding."

It took a while for the Callisdrunians to set up shop. Princess Bente, who would succeed her father on the Iron Throne, was representing the nation, but traveled more slowly than those using air or space transport, though her vessel was considered fast for what it was. The battle cruiser Ithtyr was quite modern, but Callisdrunians paid attention to aesthetics even on military hardware, so the sleek ship had the look of an era gone by. The face of the vampiric goddess for whom the jet black ship was named adorned a raised figurehead at the bow, fangs bared. First used on the longships that terrorized the seas a millenia ago, figureheads, often very similar to the dragon visages on those ancient vessels, continued to adorn the ships of the Callisdrunian navy.

It had always been the intention to arrive by ship, symbolizing Callisdrun's seafaring way of life, and all had been pleased that the preferred building for their embassy was right near the shore.

They must think we're quite odd thought Bente as she arrived at the semi-derelict (by outward appearances) Castle that she had selected. The overgrowth of the grounds had been cleared to better reveal the most lucky coincidence about the site: the giant Oak tree in front of the Keep.

This brought a smile to Bente's face when she saw it. It was perfect. The castle itself was not black like Callisfjord Castle, but it was similar enough. There was a road going in, but paved only with gravel. In its entire atmosphere, it seemed that the castle hadn't been used in years, and even when it had, it was no palace. That was fine by Bente, for in Callisdrun, the royal family did not live in a palace of any sort, but an ancient fortress. Their home was Spartan, by the standards foreign royalty was often used to, but they found it comfortable enough.

Inside, Bente was pleased to see that the building had been refurbished nicely. Tapestries imported beforehand adorned the walls, and there was a rug to walk on in the middle of the hallways. "Your chambers will be this way," a staffer said upon her entrance. She followed him up the stairs to a spacious room overlooking the grounds, high enough to be above the Oak tree, massive as it was.

"Thank you, send word of my arrival please." The staffer made his way out the door, leaving Bente alone in her chambers. Ever one for practical matters first, she sat on the bed, testing its feel. Pleasantly satisfied, she went to the window to reflect on the long journey and admire the view. The crown princess, after about five minutes, unpacked her luggage, putting it away in various drawers. A deep blue gown she left out. This one she liked quite a bit, as it was sleeveless, which should show off her two shoulder tattoos quite nicely. It was good that she liked her country's national color so much, as she had to wear it anyway, by custom. Callisdrunian royalty always wore blue at a first meeting with someone if they were representing the nation.

Bente made a little prayer to the gods that this would go well, and lay down on the couch to take a nap before she was inevitably invited to meet her counterparts.

Silence reigned just outside the orbit of Earth, the space having being declared a no travel zone for at least an hour as an Assingtonian Cruiser was expected to deploy out of sub-space. Sub-space travel was a relatively new method of Faster-Than-Light space locomotion within Assington and thus the accuracy of the timing was not particularly great, yet.

If one happened to be observing this empty patch of space at the right moment they would witness what appeared to be a tear in space seemingly rip itself open, allowing a massive Cruiser to pass through before sealing itself once again. This particular Cruiser was known as Inferno, named after Assington's most famous President. Whilst there was no denying he had been a competent President, most of that fame lay in the fact he'd been crucified along with his brother by a radical movement within the church. Despite the tragic deaths, over twelve years ago, Assington had moved on and whilst it had undergone a dark age for ten of those twelve years, everything was finally being set right again.

President Boris Lepedius stood upon the observation deck of the Inferno, gazing upon the blue planet that had been his first home. For ten years Boris and his family had hidden on the outskirts of the Sol system, moving between Assingtonian military outposts and even joining exploration crews. It had not been an easy but Boris always knew his day would come. Despite the many deaths and cover-ups, Boris and his people had finally gathered the necessary evidence to impeach Mark Kulstov, proving his father and himself had been involved in the murders.

Knowing full well Mark had the power to circumvent the legal system, he'd opted for a far more direct approach to removing him from office. A bullet through the skull. With the backing of the military and most government officials, Boris cleansed the government of all those within Mark's pocket and assumed the Presidency himself, since he technically won the election that had been rigged in favour of Mark, all those years ago.

And so for the last two years Boris had been working hard to maintain stability within Assington, devote more attention to off planet projects and re-establish diplomatic connections with nearby nations in the region, hence his attendance at the summit. Now at the age of sixty, Boris preferred to keep his head shaved as he was grey and balding and figured he looked better in that appearance anyway. He was obviously a man that had endured years of exercise and military training, still standing tall over six foot and thickly muscled.

Distracted from his reflection of the past, Boris turned to see a low ranking officer enter the observation deck.

"Sir, we are ready to beam you and your party down to International Isle. Are you prepared?"

Boris nodded as he looked back at the planet. Energised transportation was another pet project of Assington, although this one had been around since before he left Earth and was very nearly as reliable as any mundane form of moving oneself.

"Yes, I'm ready to go. Have the necessary people on the ground been informed of our arrival?"

"Yes sir."

"Alright, thankyou."

Boris hadn't brought a large staff with him for this trip. Himself and the Minister of Defense, Peter Durden were the ranking officials whilst everyone else were either Presidential staff or a mixture of ASA agents and military BCS bodyguards.

A tingling sensation indicated Boris was about to be transformed into a contained beam of energy and directed onto a landing zone upon International Isle. Closing his eyes, Boris quickly exhaled before the process was complete as he found one always gasped from the shock of the transportation afterwards.

The sense of brightness disappeared and Boris opened his eyes, now standing within one of the specially designed transportation rooms built into the International Isle Spaceport. Peter stood next to him, as did fifteen ASA agents, a further fifteen BCS units and another fifteen Presidential staff.

Peter coughed and spluttered whilst Boris took several deep breaths before turning to his colleague and good friend.

"Still not a fan of it, are you?"

Between splutters Peter managed to reply.

"No, really... I love it."

"Well, we could stay here all morning going up and down but we do have some business to attend to. We'll go find the small palace they call our embassy and get settled in, then we'll see who else is lurking about."

Anyone that had spoken to Boris more than once knew he was a simple man. He was practical, loyal and had no taste for extravagance or unnecessarily expensive furnishings. Whilst rarely formal, Boris was a serious guy when it came to matters of importance and he didn't take crap from anyone.

The party were led through security checks and all the usual before the reached a car park that had been cleared in order to accommodate the Assingtonian vehicles. Each 'car' was large, black and very sleek looking. Their defining feature was the fact they didn't sit upon the ground but hovered inches above it. Such vehicles were very common in Assington and none hesitated to get inside for the quick road trip to the embassy.

Whilst Boris and Peter were too busy discussing the region to notice the embassy appearance, all ASA and BCS men gazed over every visible inch, in the case of the BCS units their augmented eyes took in more than the standard human eye. The property was surrounded by a large sandstone wall of no particular design and once inside one had to drive by a football field worth of lawn before reaching the main building, sporting marble columns and other features characteristic of ancient Roman design.

Stepping out of the car, Boris whistled at the towering pillars before him.

"I bet the cost of this thing could outfit a small frigate."

Peter chuckled.

"Not really, but it does look respectable."

"I'll give you that... now let's get inside."

With that said, the entire party made their way inside and began the standard setup procedure.

The 'underlings' took the subtle dismissal in stride, they were used to foreigners dismissing them as 'just staff', and unimportant. The fact that they were, collectively, the second most powerful entity in Tanaara was understood by their fellow Tanaarans, and thats where it mattered - as far as they were concerned.

The Monarchal tradition and form of Government may have been less than twenty years old in Tanaara, but it had come about by public referendum - it had been carried by 99% of the voters. And in Tanaara, if you were a citizen, you voted. Said citizens, being well armed, by law, and well trained in those arms and military skills, again by law, had every right to take a monarch out who's actions and policies they disapproved of.

Mercy was an even more popular queen than Holli Golightly had been and there had been no dificulties or demurals with her assuming the throne when Holli had been killed in the opening salvos of the recent war in Tarlachia.

Sinjin set about pouring fine Lagavulin 16 year old - the smooth, refined, peaty, smoky, iodine-flavoured pure malt Scotch whisky from the southern coast of the island of Islay off the west coast of Scotland. This almost the perfect whisky had to be smuggled out in diplomatic pouches. Then he turned his part of his attention to selecting a bourbon, finally chooseing one from America. Woodford's Private Reserve, a twenty five year old bourbon that was rich as midas, smooth as silk and didn't hit the stomach like a fireball. Both he served neat in cut crystal rocks glass, leaving room for the two men to add ice if they chose. He set the tray with the glasses and ice bucket on the table between the men, making sure that the scotch was closest to William and the bourbon by Pawley.

Rob was served a stein of Tanaaran Bright Amber, considered a national treasure that was never exported. The Saison style brew had a luminous orangey-blond color, and made with a secret mix of herbs that give it an addictive earthy taste and an agreeable bitterness. Mercy took a smaller stein of metheglin, whose fragrant hibiscus aroma was subtly perfuming the cool ari of the room. It had been made from honey produced by Mont Royals own bee hives.

"I feel it would be beneficial to take the time to get to know one another, our cultures and traditions, so that come the time of assembly, Tanaara and Caebhersiobh may stand aside each other equal in understanding."

Mercy nodded understandingly. The better the two nations understood one another the easier it would be to work together.

While Sinjin was busy with that an aide entered with a tray of finger foods and prodeeded to offer the guests their choice of nibblets.

"Please don't hesitate to decline. It's a Tanaaran habit to eat several small meals rather than three large ones." Mercy offered "Fine food and eating it is something of a national past time, second only our being mostly horse mad, and tied neck and neck to our love of fine cars." She went on in a museing tone. And there's our addiction to weapons, which our custom weaponsmiths take full advantage of. While Imitora may out do us on the sheer scale of contract military personell outsourcing, I think we have the edge in arms manufacture."

She turned the subject back to Caebhersiobh, for she wanted to know as much about them as they did about Tanaara.

"William, if I may ask, what made your nation decide to join the UN?" Tanaaran distain, in fact near hatred of the United Nations, United Noseyness, as it was often derisively called by Tanaarans- was a known fact.

The long, sleek Airbus, done up in Imitoran livery, powered through the clear sky, a modern ship in the modern sea. The flight had been not to long, but long enough for all on board to get a good rest, and some time to think. Despite the rather large aircraft being used, there were only twelve actual passengers, not including the pilots and support crew. The choice of aircraft was for the bennefit of said crew, who wouldn't disembark, but keep the aircraft prepared at all times for an emergency take off. The Airbus was flanked by four Imitoran F/A-86 Archangelsks, keeping close watch on surrounding skies.

It cleared a landing, and put down with little pomp. Such was the Imitoran way. Unlike many, they requested no bands, no greeting parties or crowds, and wanted not but instructions to the place of the conference and where they would be staying. Seeing as they were staying at a pre selected site not to far from the conference center, a simple hotel, it was easy to get the two desired pieces of information.

First off the aircraft was the standard set of protective agents, an eleven man Imitoran State Department Diplomatic Team. In the past few months, the ISS had proved unable to handle protection of principles off post, and the more military like ISD Protection Team had been chosen. Unlike the ISS agents that wore well tailored suits and looked more like the sterotypical body gaurd, the ISD unit was dressed to kill: litterally. Each wore the new fashion of tactical operators, well fit polo shirts and kahaki cargo pants. Over those polo shirts were Eagle Rhodesian Recon vests, loaded with pouches full of magazines for their weapons, med kit pouches, and CammelBack units. Each was armed the same, a Noveske Diplomat, the super compact Noveske take on the traditional M4. It marked the ISD as the first Imitoran agency to not use IMI or UMAC equipment. Strapped to thighs were Blackhawk Serpa thigh rigs, each holding a Sig Sauer P226 chambered in .357SIG.

The last man of the protection outfit stepped off the Airbus and onto the tarmac, and did one good long look around. He was large, exuding power, and indeed he was powerful. Agent Arron Irving (http://www.bbc.co.uk/drama/faces/images/dennis_haysbert_large.jpg) held a radio up to his mouth, taking one last look, and spoke. His deep, bass voice echoed over the open channel, demanding respect. "Griffin Two is clear, bring out the principle."

His voice belayed no emotion, he was all business on operations like this. The man had at one time been a team leader with the elite 1st Special Forces Group-Special Operation Application Detachment in the RIA, and he had sworn long then that he would demand perfection by showing it to his men.

With the all clear given, a young lady, easily overshaddowed by the eleven large, well armed men stepped off the plane. A casual cocktail dress hung on her well built frame, and dark brown hair seemed to defy the wind and maintain its hold. First Speaker Cara Rydell (http://www.sandrabullockguide.com/images/main.jpg) maintained her grace and poise as she made her way down the ramp and to the small fleet of BMWs waiting for the Imitoran deligation. As requested before hand, three Saphire Black BMW X5 SAVs flanked a similarly colored 335i sedan and 750iL. Cara was led to the 7, and most of the team took up seats in the X5s. Irving took the shotgun seat in the 335i, modified in Imitora for even more power to serve as a chase car with added protection in the former of bullet proof glass and a roll cage, with a more lightly armed IDS protection shooter taking up the driving position.

Once satisfied, he rolled down his window, held out his hand, and circled his finger in the universal "roll out" sign. Untill the actuall confrence started, he was in control of this mission, and comanded the operation.

The drive to the hotel was uneventful, and within minutes, the IDS team had the reserved floor locked down. Cara was escorted to her room, her expression doing little to hide her distaste with the protective measures.

"Ya know," she said, settling into her room, looking out the window, "I'm sure the Tanaarans have things under control here.

"Can't take that risk, ma'am," Irving responded. "Its my job to make sure you stay safe, and I'm going to do so."

"Indeed," was her only response.

"Don't worry ma'am, I'll be changed and we'll be a bit more low key come time for the conference. Would you like me to let you know if anyone comes looking for you?"

"Yeah, that would be great, I need to look over some things, anyways. Just give me the heads up."

Irving nodded, and slipped out of the room quietly to the room set up for the IDS team. It was already full of computer gear, video moniters hooked into the hotel's feed as well as the feed provided by cameras set up earlier. He changed into a fresh Polo, leaving his vest and rifle on the bed. He adjusted his own Serpa to a hip mount, and went to his job, watching the video feeds from the hotel, and scanning all the news outlets for any updates.

'How in all the universe do I get stuck with these things? Ten years of war and then two more as liason and I get this as a 'present'?" General M.M.Hexx snarled to herself. She'd been just a Captain when the Empire had sent her to Earth to help out the Tarlachians. But she had been 'the' Captain of the 501st. And 'the' Captain of the 501st was equal to a general in any other army. It had been interesting, coming back so to speak to Earth, even if it wasn't the Earth her distant ancestors had left in 2175. 'It was a hoot dealing with technology that was old when 'they' left and was over seven hundred years behind ours. And to meet 'myself' in both name and face. Merideth shuddered at that memory.

Those that had founded and forged the sprawling Interstellar Empire of Tanara- home based in the Hoag Object, a galaxy some six hundred million light years from Earth- had left their Earth in 2175. When they made recontact with the Earth of the universe they had ended up in, they sent some of their people back to create a possibly needed foothold on Earth.- Even if it wasn't their Earth. So some one hundred and seventy five years ago they founded the nation of Tanaara, and broke off all but the most clandestine of contacts.

And one of those founding families, in fact one of the most prominent, were the Hexx's, but the meeting of the two branches was unexpected. Baroness, the Captain M. Merideth Hexx and Princess Mercedez Merrideath Hexx were nearly identical. And that made the Princess very uncomfortable, as just a few years ago her own identical twin had tried to kill her during the time of the Tanaaran Coup. 'Fortunately my accents completely different and we're both just psionic enough to 'know' the difference between me and that thank-the-universe-she's-dead psycotic bitch. The General realized how tired she must be to be thinking on that, and turned her thoughts back to the Conference and the report her aide was giving her.

"Assington has arrived via their cruiser Inferno, and made landfall via transporter." The General shuddered a little at that. The Empire had long had the technology, and used it widely, but Merideth never had felt comfortable with beam technology. She knew how easily data could be lost or scrambled and when said data was a person...

Her aide knew her foible well and hid a slight grin as he continued "Dragonsreach, High Port, Vasnear, and Central Worlds all arrived together via one of Central World's 'brain ships' and most of their security is made up of cyborgs. It was the lieutenants turn to hide a shudder. The Empire on the whole did not much care for cyborgs. They had some very bad history, and a couple of viscious wars that engendered such reaction. "And Dragonsreach's Queen is indeed a vampire, our dossiers are correct on that. We might want to ask the University to send in a Xa Cz'inni to be part of the laison team as the Vasnear seem to be of feline derivation."

"We should have taken that into account already, so see to it double time. Also find out the brainships name and offer him, or her the use of an avatar. Perhaps he would like to see the sights in person." Merideth took a sip of her favorite mint tea and nodded for him to continue.

"The Callisdrun battle cruiser Ithtyr is a peice of art, but the castle they are setting up shop in is apparently all but derelict, and the key word is apparently. " He continued as the General nodded approvingly.

"The Imitorans have arrived, the first of our problem children"

"and we can always hope that what ever lives under that bedamned dome in the waste lands decides not to put in an appearance." General Hexx broke in with a snort. "Has R&D come any further on that advanced nova weapon. I'd really like something I can use to blow that energy bubble with out cracking the planet to do so."

Her aide consulted with Mykke through his neuro link with the AI. "Nothing since the monthly update two weeks ago."

The General sighed heavily and brushed a stray lock from her face. "And that was just a 'no confirmed break throughs' waste of words. Oh we'll deal with them if they show up. The Empress of Tarlachia's majickal dampers should be a real fist to the face for them."

The lieutenant nodded. Most of the 501st and their psi mech were on the island - or gbeneath the waters surrounding the island, and they had beaten the heck out of demons before and weren't afraid to do it again.

[Palace de Nuit]

Pawley chuckled as the hors d'oeuvre platter was set before them. "For a politician, ma'am, it's more a matter of one long meal from morning to afternoon as we hop from one lunch to another. Learning how to eat as little as possible without offending your host becomes an art." he said, as he picked up a cucumber slice topped with dill creame cheese.

Claybrook chuckled he leaned forward to place an ice cube into his drink. "Dear Lucias has his constituentcy to please and they are most demanding in feeding him."

"Most demanding." Pawley agreed.

When Mercy brought up the issue of UN membership, Claybrook favoured her with a grin. "Why," he said, "for the same reason we attend this summit. We believe that an organisation may best be served from within than without. True, very few of the proposals submitted before the UN are to our liking; however, that does not remove our moral obligation as civilised beings to respect the overall will of the community at large.

"All governments must accept the fact that from time to time, in spite of every intention otherwise, they will be proven wrong. As a republic the Caebhersiobh are more aware of this than most," He chuckled, continuing, "for seldom do we find ourselves wholly in the right.

"Yes, the United Nations may be overrun by those who pander to the lowest common denominator but that does not allow us, as a responsible nation, to abandon the international community to these radical leftist demagogues. Fewer than one third of the world's nations subscribe to the UN; if more took Caebhersiobh's example, I believe we would see a dramatic change in the legislation promulgated by this body." He took a much needed sip of his Scotch. "Why, I have seen resolutions that have been won or lost by a margin Fatal Terrain alone could have overcome."

Pawley cleared is throat. "The people of Caebhersiobh find it paradoxical, ma'am," he said evenly, "that their neighbours in Tanaara should show such a high degree of voter participation on the local level yet decline to apply this virtue to the global scale."

The people of Caebhersiobh find it paradoxical, ma'am, that their neighbours in Tanaara should show such a high degree of voter participation on the local level yet decline to apply this virtue to the global scale."

"Because we refuse to be dicatated to by a tyrany of strangers who know nothing about us, and have the gall to presume to dictate how we must live. The doings of the Unmitigated Noseyness's is regular fare in our various newspapers and video channels." Mercy shook her head, a small moue of distatste crossing her face for a moment "Some of the various resolutions that have been proposed and passed have made our people froth at the mouth. I am a nearly an absolute monarch, I do not have to listen to heed anything the Tricamera proposes but if I even suggested that the honoured Councilors consider joining, ther'ed be a revolution before the day was out."

Tanaaras tricameral system was not so much a system of legislature, but a system of elected Councilors, who served as advisory 'boards' for the Monarchy, and saw to it that all governmental bureaucracy was kept to an absolute minimum. Councilors were elected ostensibly for a minimum of five years but the reasons for recall were so simple and vague that some felt that recalls and elections were the national past time. The Councilors recieved no pay for their efforts, and few if any perks - they served out of their sense of duty - in a manner most reminescent of Jeffersonian ideals - citizen statesmen who serve their term honorable and with best of ability, then retire back to private life.

To outsiders it seemed bulky and inneffecient, but it worked very well for the Tanaarans, as they prefered to handle what ever they could on a personal level. 'The common defense, basic education sanitation and health, immigration, good roads, and protective tarrifs.' were the limits of the national government.

Then there was The Societe d' Orchidee - an uniquely Tanaaran ...custom. Their power rivaled the legenday courtesans of the city-state of Venice at the height of its power centuries ago. They moved among the the powerful with assured and easy elegance. A part of the most exclusive of worlds but not ensnared by it, seperate and secure. Only a fool dismissed them as anything resembling prostitutes or 'common'. Entry into that powerful and exclusive comitatus was harder than becoming a Tayu, the premier Geisha of the Floating World of Japan of the early seventeen hundreds. And it was an open secret that they acted as emmisaries for those that could persuade them. Many considered them a shadow government...and they were correct.

Holli Golightly, had been one, and she had been the first Tanaaran Monarch. It was not known for certain if her heir and suscessor, Mercedez Merrideath Hexx was a member of the Societe, but she had never married. Though marriage, in what ever form it took and there were many different forms in Tanaara, or the lack there of said little. Though her sons name was Robert Ryan Fortier - Hexx and than was a surname that linked him to one of Imitora's greats... And it was an open secret that Robert Fortier of Imitora was instrumental in foiling the Tanaaran Coupe of some thirteen years ago.

Else where in the Palace du Nuit, the staff scurried about making sure the final preperations for the eveings event that the Queen was hosting - a meet and greet dinner for those delegates that had already arrived.

Delicacies from all over the region were being prepared by Chef Song and his band of talented underchefs. The gardner was making the final cuttings of various flora and greenery to go into the arrangements, the major domo was sitting back and smiling as his highly trained cadre of footmen made sure every thing else was in hand.

Security could never relax, even with trusted allies taking care of the outer perimeter - the inner limits were theirs and the Imitorans were comming. The last group on the planet they wanted to look shoddy or slipshod in front of. Despite the general Tanaaran habit of not useing tech too far in advance of others in the region, they shamelessly used every techno and majical device they could get their hands on. If it boggled the minds of some of the delegates, security didn't give a hoot. That wasn't their perview. The safety of their beloved Queen and her guests was all that mattered

"And is that same response accepted on a local level as well?" Pawley continued, "Would Tanaarans who, say, froth at the mouth at your policies and regard your rule as the tyrrany of an individual out of touch with their own needs have the right to seceed from the Kingdom?"

At fourty-seven years of age, Lucias Pawley had the appearance of an older man. His brown hair was dashed by premature grey and stress wrinkles had formed on the forehead and around the eyes. As a third-term parliamin, though, he understood the importance of cultivating an image and used this trait to his advantage.

Sporting a brown tweed hunting coat over a green sweater vest, wire frame spectacles donning his nose, and slightly mussed hair, Pawley had the appearance of an earthy scholar. His aloof demeanour and quiet, polite manners suggested an untold wealth of knowlege resting behind his twinkling eyes. Pawley's political power rested in large part on his ability to feed off of other's insecurity over their own ignorance. On more than one occasion had Claybrook seen his friend win debates solely on his capacity to challenge the validity of fact and make theory appear as truth.

"Lucias is a renown intellectual." Claybrook said, by way of apology for Pawley's directness, "Always asking questions and scribbling facts and details into his notebook. It's what makes him a superb public officer; we're fortunate to have him in Parlaiment."

"I wish the rest of Parliament saw it that way." Pawley responded and the two chuckled.

"But I feel we've highlighted an important difference between Tanaaran and Caebhersiobh ideals." Claybrook said, "Your people would draw on revolution as a means of social change while we prefer a more conservative approach. The Caebhersiobh live as a united body and recognise that the needs of the individual must sometimes be overruled by that of the whole in the interests of national stability and order. Change, when it comes, is slow and deliberate. We do not expect change to occur overnight so we are not disappointed when it doesn't."

When they arrived at the mansion Micaya entered first, checking over the entire area and checking the security to see what updates might be needed. She decided that a miracle would probably be good, but never one to rely on divine intervention she instructed the guard to bring in all the equipment they had and allowed the delegates to enter.

The mansion was small. Three bedrooms on the first floor. One bedroom, a bathe, library, security room, living room, workout room, sitting room, dining room and kitchen on the ground floor. The lower bedroom would be Micaya's. Laura and her father would share the master bedroom while Anita Chung and Fritti Lightfoot would each have thier own room upstairs.

A cleaning detail had already been through, though there wasn't much. Neither Laura nor or father believed in lavish displays of wealth. They were the servants of the people in thier minds and the money would be best spent elsewhere.

Once they had settled in thier rooms Lauralin went to the sitting room and closed the door. She began her meditations, focusing her psionic power and weaving it with her natural arcane ability to bolster her defenses against the tidal flood of the dark powers that corrupted her. There she would remain until summoned for the conference.

Turquine took a seat in the library, reviewing the rest of the information on those who would attend and wondering if ShadowSpawn would make an appearance. His rival, and leader of the Skullkingdom had recently attacked Highport and Dragonsreach. Since ShadowSpawn cared nothing for his environment his advances in technology surpassed those of his and his daughters nations. In fact, were it not for the timely intervention of the Indoans and Central worlds, that battle could have gone far differently. His daughter had lost her wife in that battle. Her marriage to a woman being the reason she had left the U.N. since when they had removed the right for same sex marriages.

Fritti went back outside rather than remain cramped indoors and studied the surrounding area of the mansions land.

"Would Tanaarans who, say, froth at the mouth at your policies and regard your rule as the tyrrany of an individual out of touch with their own needs have the right to seceed from the Kingdom?"

Always asking questions and scribbling facts and details into his notebook. It's what makes him a superb public officer; we're fortunate to have him in Parlaiment."

Mercy's eyes twinkled and her smile said no apology was necessary. "I can see that, and you are fortunate indeed to have Lucias working for the good of your people."

"Yes they are welcome to stage a revolt - if those who are in agreement with my policies allow them to get that far. We're very much a 'your rights end where mine begin' and dueling is legal, as long as it is carried out according to the law. It has been remarked by visitors that we have a very 'Texan' feel - rugged individualists working together to get things done - while we may argue vociferously and with many an over-the-top insult we do manage to get things done...of course we've also been compared to the better aspects of the Drakka."

Mercy's smile cool as she mentioned the famous, or maybe it was infamous, alternate history civilization created by S.M. Stirling. Tanaarans had dueling, penal slavery, the death penalty, they were hedonists by any definition of the word, there was universal federal or military service, however they were not expansionistic nor did they hold any master race notions. Though all Tanaarans tended to have a Texas size national pride.

Elves, Vampires, Shape shifters of various sorts, dragons, and other non humans combined to make up about thirty percent of the population, and they would have in no way tollerated as being treated as any sort of second class citizens.

"But the needs of the individual must be taken as seriously as the needs of the whole - not necessarily counted as important, but at least taken as seriously." Rob Ryan said softly, " For what good is it to trample a person underfoot when by exalting the one you inspire and save the whole."

"The question is not," said Pawley as he turned to face the Prince, "a matter of priority between the singular and the collective. To each individual, their own needs will usually take precedence over those of another. But instead the manner of dealing with the eventuality of multiple individual's needs coming into conflict with one another. Conflict is, after all, inevitable in the course of social interaction."

"Or we'd all be out of the job." Claybrook mused.

Pawley smiled at his friend's jest and elaborated. "Indeed, the sole purpose of good government is the regulation of conflict to the end that its negative consequences are mitigated." he said. "It is an evil, yes, noone chooses to pay the costs of overhead; however, the positive externalities of this evil, order and stability as my colleague puts it, outweigh these costs when applied to the societal level.

"Therefore, Prince Robert," Pawley continued, "in any scenario involving two or more individuals, a degree of trampling becomes unavoidable. The matter becomes who to allow trampled and under what circumstances."

He then returned his attention to Mercy. "But I am not speaking of revolution, coup, or any means by which you or your government are directly attacked, ma'am." he said, returning to his original question. "Instead, I speak of secession. Let us say, for example, a city or a region decides that it no longer wishes to remain part of the Tanaaran Protectorate, does that entity have the right to declare independence without interference from your government? Would they act with your blessing, so to speak?"

Would they act with your blessing, so to speak?"

"Perhaps." Mercy replied seriously. "However one has to take Tanaara's origins into account when discussing wether part of the protectorate might ever be inclined to seperate. Our origin is perhaps unique in the region, if not the world. Tanaara is a created nation, created by an off Earth Empire, populated by those who volunteered to live on and in a world where their technology would be limited to not much more than the general over all level of Earth at that time."

She shrugged. "We are as we are and we like who and what we are. There is a collective gestalt has arisen despite our fierce and prickly independance. We're all going the same way even if we each walk our own paths."

"Willian, Lucias I hate to end this conversation so soon." Mercy said appologetically, as sahe glanced up to nod slightly at an aide that stood discretely in the door way. "But apparently those in charge of how I spend my time, think it's time they got their hands on me. I do hope you will return this evening for the dinner party I am hosting. Invitations have ben sent to those national leaders and delegates that have already arrived. It's nothing formal. I think we're going to get our fill of pomp and circumstance soon enough." Mercy rose, a gentle dismissal, and held out her hand to first Willian, then to Lucias for a warm hand clasp as she had given earlier.

"Rob Ryan, would you see our two honoured guests to their security team." She requested of her son.

"Certainly Mother." Rob steppoed foreward to escort the two Caebhersiobhian's out.

When the invitations were delivered the envoy was stopped at the gate. Scans were made of the invitations for everything from nanites to known poisons and stored in the borgs memory, just in case something should happen the chemicals could analyzed. Once clear it sent a low band transmission to the security station that Micaya was putting the finishing touches on and the envoy was escorted to the front door of the mansion as the delegates were assembled.

Lauralin looked the same as she made her way to the foyer to accept the envoy, as did Anita and Tail. Turquine had removed the heavy battle armor, leaving his chainmail on. He didn't see much point in changing until he knew what he needed to change into.

Once the envoy was escorted into the foyer, the four leader were lined up to meet him. Lauralin and Anita stepped forward, Turquine allowing his daughter to speak for them both and Tail unsure about protocols. The foyer was bereft of any ornamentation, Turquine and Laura not one to put out any undo expense.

Laura gave a shallow curtsey while Anita smiled and nodded. Once the invitations were handed over, three to Lauralin and one to Anita and the envoy escorted out, Turquine sighed. "Informal. Gods be praised", he muttered as he took his and retreated to the room he shared with Laura. Lauralin figured she was dressed fine and told Tail that her clothing should suffice. Anita went to change into an informal dress that looked nice but wasn't overbearing and then they, once again, waited, preparing themselves in thier various ways for the appointed time.

The over extended royal aide sighed happily as he left the mansion that the representatives from Central Worlds, High Port, Vasnear, and Dragonsreach were occupying. They had been polite, and prompt. And they all seemed freindly. The leader of Vasnear reminded him of one of his good friends back at the Universal University. She'd been as balck of furr as the Viscountess Fritti Lightfoot had, though Naruua's eyes were bright copper.

"And her Majest Lauralin is nearly as lovely as our own Mercy. Though could that be vampiric wiles?" He asked himself concernedlyh. He'd been trained in the traits of various types of vampires but had never met any personally, and found he had been more than a little apprehensive in her presence.

He set his museings aside and headed on to his next destination, the Embassy of the Golden Simatar.

~~~~ International Isles Airport ~~~

Else where another royal aide approached the CS brain ship FN-935, Nancia. She activated the portable commo unit she had been assigned.

* May I please speak with Nancia, FN-935 of the Central Worlds.*

The external speakers quietly opened up. "You don't need to use the comm if you don't want to", Nancia replie, I can pick you up just fine. Shall I send the lift down for you?" she asked. Before there was an answer Forister had stepped out onto the lift and was riding it down to greet thier guest.

Once at the bottom Forister stepped off, smiling and extending his hand. "Forister Amontillado y Medoc. I'm Nancia's brawn", he stated. "My girl would like to have you up, if you have the time. She sent me down to welcome you personally, she's just a lovely young Lady that way." His smile and voice was filled with warmth for Nancia as he spoke about her.

She sent me down to welcome you personally, she's just a lovely young Lady that way."

The aide, a raven haired lady of maybe twenty five took the hand he extended and shook it firmly but gently, then made sure she looked towards the speaker grille then toward Forister. "Why thank you mi'lady Nancia, mi'lord Amontillado y Medoc. I am Justine Winters, and I have the priviledge of being one of her Majesty Mercedeza of Tanaara's personal aides. I've come to invite the both of you to a small, informal dinner gathering that her Mjesty is hosting this evening." The young lady replied with a smile that was as warm as his.

"Also I have been aske to relay to you, milady Nancia, that there is an Empty Avatar available should you care to attend in person." She looked back towards the external speaker grille.

"The mixture must be just right General, or else it won't be...just right." Zhao said, her attention firmly on the iced filled glass in her hands.

Lussier watched as she carefully poured soda water into it before adding two shots worth of orange syrup. Zhao was an interesting president, for the first part, he only saw her drink once...and that was only at a dinner party and even then it was a half glass of wine. But the thing that surprised him the most, was that she listened to her military advisors.

Previous presidents usually selected civilians to hold the top offices in the Department of Defense, but Zhao had been adament to have nearly half of the important positions held by former military officers. This had been a bit of a shock to everyone as Zhao in her younger years supported bill after bill to slash military funding and even now was trying to tighten gun control. But, the military had breathed a sigh of relief when she had given them funding and selected Lussier to be the Secetary of Defense.

Lussier swirled the glass of Flint Firebrand Whiskey (also refered to as "drinkable napalm" by some) and sipped some of the volitile amber liquid as Zhao sat across from him in a large chair. The pair were in one of the sitting rooms on the main floor of the mansion. The wall behind Lussier was glass with several doors leading to the large back deck. A fully stocked bar sat in the corner near the doorway and most of the non-glass walls were covered in paintings and the floor had various sculptures on it.

"Right, down to basics." Zhao said as she sipped her drink. "I think everyone knows I'm the new kid on the block and..."

"Ms. President." The voice of her personal secetary, a young boy named Yonni Kemp, caught her attention. She looked up to see him standing there. "There is an envoy from the Tanaarans, shall I show him in?"

"Of course." Zhao and Lussier stood as Kemp disappeared and returned a minute later. The enovy's entrance into the embassy was the same sort he had recieved at that of Central Worlds, he was scanned and everything was checked to make sure he was clean before being allowed to proceed to the main house.

The President smiled and extended her hand to the man as he walked in. "Greetings, I'm President Catherine Zhao and this is my Secetary of Defense, Nicholas Lussier. What may I do for you?"

"Greetings, I'm President Catherine Zhao and this is my Secetary of Defense, Nicholas Lussier. What may I do for you?"

The Royal Aide, one Thomas Meecham, took the Presidents hand and bowed over it. "Madame President, Secretary Lussier a pleasure and honor to met both of you. I've come to extend her Majesty's welcome and an invitation to an informal dinner gathering this evening at the Palace du Nuit. Her Majesty hopes that if you have no other plans that you and your entourage would do her the honor of attending."

He offered the official invitation card, a elegant but simple linnen heavy bond paper with the invitation written in the Queens own hand.

"We have no plans, we'll be sure to come." Zhao said as she took the invitation from Meecham's hand. This would be a perfect chance for her to meet the other regional leaders and get herself out there so they could now meet her in person.

Zhao looked at the messanger. "What time should we be there and is there anything else?"

"What time should we be there and is there anything else?"

"Seven p.m., Madame President." Thomas Meecham repleid. "And I know her Majesty will be please to hear that you will be coming. Now, if you will please excuse me?"

Thomas Meechan made his farewells and proceeded on to his next destination, the Hotel Solara, where the Imitorans had reserved a floor and the Tanara's had reserved the three floors below and the three above, as extra security.

Else where other Aides arrived at the Assington embassy, with invitation for President Boris Lepedius, and his Minister of Defense.

The mansion where the Empress Aeris of Tarlachia was residing at recieved a visit from an invitation bearing royal aide as did the rather ramshackle castle that the Callisdrunian Princess Bente and her retainers were staying in.

And though the Caebhersiobhian Praetor Eilthir and party had already met with Mercy, their elegant country manor also recieved a visit from yet another royal aide bearing an invitation to an informal dinner gathering set for that evening.

"My lady."

A light sleep-laden growl was given in reply as a single eye was opened. Aeris lay upon the bed on her stomach, an arm under the pillow with her face facing outward to the side. "Yeah...Yes?" she replied again, bringing herself quickly to consciousness as she recognized Toreli, a young elven maiden whom served as her personal assistant.

"An invitation has been delivered." Toreli answered, holding out an card with raised lettering on it. "From her Majesty Mercedez Merrideath Hexx."

Taking the card after downing some water in a glass sitting on the nightstand nearby, Aeris read it over once and set it down next to her on the bed. She stretched her neck to relieve the kinks and ran both hands through her disheveled hair. "Get something... casual yet refined enough for me, please from the closet." she instructed as she rose from the bed, "Something carefree and yet authoritive." Her hands flowed exaggerating down her side, outlining the contours of her body.

"Of course, my lady." Toreli smiled, "I know just the thing." She disappeared into the closet, returning a few minutes later holding two dresses on hangers for Aeris's perusal. One was a light green color, an elven version of a summer dress, whereas the other was a slightly more formal style, yet carefree enough in its design. Aeris pondered a moment, then chose the second dress, stripping quickly to don it. She stood before a mirror and admired the dress's seemingly unearthly white fabric. A finger ran along the edge of her plunging neckline that revealed enough for the purpose of the dress, yet not to make her appear less than the empress that she was. It's length flowed smoothly to her ankles, giving just the edge of her feet exposure. The dress accented her feminine features, yet did not hug them tightly.

All in all, it was a dress fitting for the "casual" meet and greet that would be held shortly. Aeris would comply with the "casual" bit as she saw fit, and that was to ensure that first impressions made of her would be noting of her mastery of her position, a stark contrast to her earlier, more rough ways that she had been in the first days of her rule. Surely enough, the guidance of the Tanaran empire on matters of composure, appearance, diplomatic encounters and more had made an appropriate impression upon Aeris. In her eyes, she saw them as they really were, a nation that was in reality far ahead than Tarlachia and most other allies. She envisioned Tarlachia embracing a respectful model for matters of its own advancement, learning upon the successes and failures of a nation that had simply already tread the path they sought now.

Before long, Aeris found herself walking through the foyer of the Palace du Nuit, alone save for Toreli trailing behind her a measured three steps. Noticing that there were a few security details posted throughout the palace as well as outside, Aeris took the time to approach several of them clustered together as they discussed in ever so quiet tones matters of security. A smile and greeting was exchanged, their bows returned with a nod of the head. She inquired as to their well-beings, their families if any, and their tenure as soldiers. One proudly recalled his service in the war, receiving a pat on the shoulder and a measure of respect given by Aeris as she relayed her appreciation for his willingness to sacrifice for the greater good. Then, she left them to their private discussion and continued on her way to the end of the foyer.

She halted briefly before being shown into another room, a room that was momentarily only occupied by a few last of the workforce, whom upon seeing her, finished their tasks even more quickly and seemed to disappear into the very woodwork.

Looking about, Aeris noticed the various items of each culture that came from Fatal Terrain, from the choice selections of food to the decorations and even to the medium sized tables that sat in strategic locations throughout the room. No plate or drink would need be held for long if their temporary owners did not wish.

"So here is the informal meeting and yet none others have arrived at this time." she whispered to herself, minding not. It allowed her to appreciate the work taken by the workforce to ready the room.

Music suddenly emanated from discreet speakers in the walls, playing the first notes of music of a Tarlachian song. A smile was given to no one in particular as Aeris allowed the musical notes to soothe her and loosen her limbs and muscles enough for a small, personal dance. Elven words sang of harmony and peace amongst friends, spawning prosperity and culture.

It was a soothing remedy of memories that occasionally reminded her of the atrocities of the war. The war would never be forgotten by her, not until the day she died. A few calm elvish words uttered from her lips under her breath as she heard the song ending and another unfamiliar one beginning moments later.

Samantha cursed at the wind. The strong gusts from the west kept pushing her and Elanderval off course, and she knew that they were indeed going to be late. Despite all her planning in the weeks leading up to the conference, the numerous schedule rearrangements, the fighting with the security staff, and the training of Elanderval for such a long flight, they had still somehow screwed up. Even though they were drawing near the island, she was having second thoughts on not bringing a security staff or even other members of the government, and arriving in a more traditional style through plane or ship. However, she felt that because of how inactive BAP had been in the regions conflicts and discussions in the past, she needed to send strong messages that she meant business from the get go. So coming in on one of the last pure white dragon flights, donned in the traditional battle armor of the country, might of been overdoing it, she would feel proud none the less. Now she only wished they would arrive for this conference, before her sense of pride would quickly be put down by the established powers of the region.

It was bad enough that the region needed to make this conference now, as BAPs internal affairs were reaching a boiling point. With the elves in the east demanding more recognition for their efforts in protecting the borders from the demon raids, the dwarves and gryphon’s requesting a battalion for protection after goblins had destroyed one of their tunnels, and then the usual conflict between the vampires and lycans vying for control of the under cities. She was just happy that the humans and hybrids were finally maintaining a sense of peace when compared to the rest of the region, and that the great dragon clans allowed her the reprieve to hide amongst them when things became too stressful.

The perils of her homeland were whisped away when the great white dragon that was her mount awakened her from her thoughts announcing they were within minutes of landing. An elven angel though she may be, she was far from perfect, and felt like she was letting her heritage down. Still, this could be the changing point of all that, a successful showing here, getting BAP the recognition it needed, and perhaps some good relations with its' neighbors, and she could be well on her way to becoming bigger than the nations founder. All she needed was that comfort that she could do what she needed to do when the moment was right.

As the beast began its' decent, Samantha made sure she looked the part of a head of state. These customary robes made her feel very uncomfortable, as the fabric clung to her skin, showing off her trim figure, and her well rounded curves. Adjustments had to be made so that her wings were allowed to come through the back and fold neatly, but this made things even more unsettling as her back felt like it was being wrapped too tightly. She would welcome the night gladly, and the opportunity to be out of this wretched garment. At least she was able to leave her long blonde hair down, though the tips of her ears were clearly poking through them, but her dark purple eyes mystified even those who spent every day around her. Eyes that color and so full of hope in the world would make even the lowest person feel a sliver of hope or joy when they looked upon her.

With Elanderval kneeling down onto the ground, Samantha demounted her mystical pet, and gave the great beast a pat as she looked around for her escort. She knew little about this island, with the only information provided to her was that they would be staying in a small Greeko-Roman styled mansion near the conference hall, which we was quite happy to have, as that architecture was one of the best to ever graced history in her opinion. Now she merely needed the party to bring her there, so that she and her pet may have some time to gather themselves before what was sure to be hours on end of debate.

Once Justine Winters said that Forister looked back and up. He wasn't looking at the speaker grill, but somewhere else. Nancia knew he was looking in the direction of her central column, something that he had an uncanny knack for finding whereever he was inside or outside the ship.

"N n n no", Nancia stuttered, terrified by the prospect. Though she understood the concept, the idea of being 'outside of her shell' in any way terrified her as it did most shell people.

Forister stepped over, placing a hand gently and lovingly on the hull, "Now, now my girl, don't get upset. It's just a polite offer and you only need to control the avatar. You could leave at any time you feel too uncomfortable. Isn't that right?" he asked, turning back toward Justine.

"Your dance is lovely Aeris." A familiar voice spoke softly from behind the Tarlachian Empress. "and good evening, Toreli. You look lovely as always."

Michiko Jones, the Dowagar Empress of Tanara smilled warmly at her young protégé as Aeris spun about. "And your dress is lovely. Looking for a husband?" Michiko asked with a teasing gleam in her eye.

She head up a hand to sue for peace before Aeris could reply.

"I'm covering for Mercy. Kazuma and Robyns daughter Melody died just an hour ago, very unexpectedly and they are just..." Michiko's voice trailed off. How does one describe the agony of parents who have just lost a much loved child. "Mercy went with them back to Mont Royal, one of Cats Keep Stepped them there and they'll Stepp Mercy back in a bit, but they need her more now than we do."

You could leave at any time you feel too uncomfortable. Isn't that right?"

'Yes sir. milady Nancia, Ma'am you can be connected to the avatar via radio telemetry, via psionics, if you are 'gifted', or via majick if you are 'talented'. You just experience every thing, reality, as if you were right there, with out ever really being there. It is full conscious interface...Oh dear, I do aopologise if I'm being confusing." Justine looked flustered.

"Please let me contact..Oh I know just who, he understands avatars intimately, being one himself. I saw the MMX just now at the secuity gate."

Quickly she made contact with the Tanaran security forces, and less than a minute laer a trim looking man approached at a run. A run that was covering ground at a speed of at least sixty miles an hour.

Aeris spun about, pulling a smile onto her face as she looked upon her mentor and friend. "Thank you." she replied simply to the compliments before listening to the sad news of death. Her face relayed her anguish over the death of a child, and she moved closer to the other empress. A gentle hand was laid upon her arm, "Oh, I do hope they can recover. I'd hate to hear of any worse news." An inquiring look was given, "What took the child, do you know?"

Just then, a butler arrived as silent as a wraith and holding a platter with water atop. Aeris took one glass absently, giving Michiko her full attention. "If there's anything I can do, please...let me know."

"I'm afraid that I don't know what you mean", Nancia replied, "other than radio telemetry. I'm sure it's safe, it's just that most shell people are afraid of it. It's the experience itself. We've always experienced everything through the neural links of our ships or stations, cities or planetary systems. It's the idea of feeling like we're outside our shells, even knowing we aren't. It's a fear of vulnerability."

"Nancia, my girl, your my favorite niece, I wouldn't let anything happen to you."

"I know, Uncle Forister, but it's just the idea", Nancia replied.

"You joined the courier service to meet people and experience things. This would be a wonderful experience, and besides, I would love to have my niece at my side for a change."

"Lady Winter?" Nancia asked, "would I still be able to monitor the others?"

When the white dragon and it's rider had approached the island they had picked up an escort of aerospace interceptor fighters, and after many minutes they had managed to communicate telepathically with one another and discover that the pair were emmisaries from the Blue Anthem Project.

Queen Samantha was met by a honor guard and there was a small convoy of armored luxury SUV's waiting to take her to her temporary residence.

"Your Majesty, I'm Colonel John Carter, and I'd be pleased to act as the head of your security detail. If you don't wish a protective escort, can I offer the services of one of our drivers and a vehicle?" The full bird colonel wqas a distinwuieshed looking older man, his dark sable hair graced liberally by silver white strands, and his eyes had many laugh lines despite the solemn look he wore.

"Lady Winter? Would I still be able to monitor the others?"

"Might I answer that?" The running man had arrived. "My apologies, I am the MMX, though when I'm in an Avatar" His had gestured down the length of his body. " I go by Max."

He looked up and raised his hand to direct their atternion the sleek psi mech that was sweeping down on silent antigravs from on high, currently in full aeorspace mode (http://www.atddm.com/mmx1.jpg). As he neared, the psimech shifted shape with liquid smoothness into a very human appearing battle mech that stood some forty feet tall.

The voice that issued from the battle mech was a deep but soothing bass. "In this form I am officially the MMX."

The Avatar took up where his other self left off. "Yes you will be able to do anything you can now and more. You already know how to multitask, I would guess that it's almsot instinctive now for you. Being in an Avatar is just another task, that you can devote as much or as little of your interest too."

Cara looked over the invitation to the dinner, and nodded. She called in the ISD team, and had them all sit.

"Listen," she started, "I understand you have orders, but at this point, I am recinding them by Executive Command. Tonight, I do not want a bunch of tattooed ex military shooters flanking me and measuring mine, and everyone else's, every move. So, tonight, Agent Irving is the only agent comming along with me tonight."

Voices of protest were met with a wave of dismissal. "No questions. Irving, can you dress for this?"

"Yes ma'am," the large man responded. "I have some casual dinner clothes packed in a go bag just in case."

Cara nodded her approval. "Excellent. We'll leave shortly, I should go change."

As Cara left the room, Irvng turned to the other shooters. "Ok, heres the deal. This is good. We have an entire floor of this hotel to ourselves, so lock and load, and start drilling. Room clearing, rescue, you name it, I want it practiced. Never hurts to be ready."

A set of nods were made, showing understanding. "Good stuff. Its our job to protect her, so it doesn't hurt to be ready here."
__

Cara arrived with Irving at the dinner just moments after the invitation advised too. She was dressed casually enough with a pair of kahki slacks and a tastefull black blouse. Irving, on the other hand, was only slightly more dressed up, a polo and slacks underneath a navy sports coat.

"Don't follow to close, go ahead and mingle. I think we are safe enough here."

Irving gave a simple nod, and broke away to speak with other guests.

Zhao sat quietly in the limosine, read over documents. She was wearing a pair of navy blue dress pants and jacket with a white undershirt. Lussier was going with her in a casual black suit, the same went along for her small group, including her secetary Yonni Kemp and two security guards. Both of them had armor underneath their clothes and pistols.

"They will eat you alive ma'am."

Zhao looked up at Kemp. Kemp was fairly young, not even thirty, but he was passionate about his work and she had selected him out of a group of nearly two dozen canidates as his memory seemed the sharpest. "Who will eat me?"

"The so called 'Moral Majority'." the young man said.

Zhao chuckled as she sipped on an iced Diet Coke. A bill that would allow gay marriage was currently slogging its way up through the halls of the Simatarian Congress and she had made it public she would pass it when it crossed her desk. This had made her fairly unpopular with some, but to most Simatarians it wasn't much of an issue as some tried to make it out to be.

"Well, I don't give a damn about them Yonni. Now about this little meeting, anything about the other leaders?"

"Not much ma'am. I met Queen Aeris only briefly, nothing more than a handshake and hello, after the victory over the demons. I don't know much about the Assingtonians, that bunch I always found a bit nutty. The Imitorians...the same." Lussier commented.

Zhao simply shrugged and drank the rest of her coke as the limo pulled up outside of the palace.


Zhao entered the main hall, where she heard some music coming from hidden speakers, she didn't recongize it but it was nice. Lussier and Kemp were behind her and her security brought up the rear. She turned to them. "Well gentlemen, enjoy yourselves...I have going ot see if I can make myself known."

Departing the group, Zhao walked around for a minute before spotting a woman admiring some objects that seem to come from the various lands of Fatal Terrain. The President studied her for a moment before the named clicked, Aeris.

Zhao walked up to her and gave a smile, offering her hand. "Your Highness, I am sorry we have not met before. I am President Catherine Zhao."

Nancia took a long moment to consider. Finally she came to a decision. "Alright, I'll try it. What do I need to do?"

Forister smiled like a proud father, nodding his head in approval.

What took the child, do you know?"

" It was a cerebral aneurysm. Meldoy had just finished a short swim, and was toweling off, when she just ...dropped. They teleported her immediately to Primary Medical, but too much of the cerebral cortex had been destroyed." Michiko answered her voice sad and no little haunted. She'd almost lost her own son a few years back and well remembered how terrified she'd been.


"If there's anything I can do, please...let me know"

"Thank you Aeris, I'll pass that on.. Ah, we have more arrivals." Michiko looked up at the sound of unfamiliar voices. "If you will excuse me a moment Aeris, let me go gather up our newest arrival. I believe that is First Speaker Cara Rydell of Imitora."

"Don't follow to close, go ahead and mingle. I think we are safe enough here."

Michiko moved over to where Cara was entering the room and looking about. "First Speaker Rydell, I don't think we've met in person. I'm Michiko Jones, the Tanara Ambassador. I'm replacement hostessing for Mercy for a bit. She was unavoidably

Before Michiko and Cara reached the Empress of Tarlachia, another guest had made her way to Aeris's side and was introducing herself.

The President studied her for a moment before the named clicked, Aeris. Zhao walked up to her and gave a smile, offering her hand. "Your Highness, I am sorry we have not met before. I am President Catherine Zhao."

Michiko paused for a few moments to let the Empress respond to the young lady, the Golden Simatar's new President Catherine Zhao.

Then she stepped forward, and introduced Cara to the two ladies.

"Aeris, might I present First Speaker Cara Rydell of Imitora. Cara, might I present her Imperial Majesty Aeris Greenwood of Tarlachia." Michiko continued "Cara, this is President Catherine Zhao of the Golden Simatar. Catherine this is First Speaker Cara Rydell of Imitora." She did the introductions in order of precedence, then quietly explained the reason for Mercy's absence.

"And President Zhao, I am Ambassador Michiko Jones of Tanara. I'm covering for Mercy, who has been momentarily detained." She was pleased to see that every one was coming dressed as casually as their individual natures would allow. She herself was in a tailored tunic top, the rare, deep jade hued spider silk nearly hidden under the intricate embroidery and sumptuous bead work of semi precious stones. The matching slacks were plainer save for a hem band of matching hand work. The jewelry she wore was the fienst creations of the jewelers art, subdued and elegant, the stones, native to distant Tanar reflecting the hues of the tiny stones that beaded the tunic.

Rob Ryan entered and made his way quietly over to the Dowager Emperesses side. Michiko excused herself from the three women and stepped aside to speak with the Crown Prince in low tones. Once their convesation was done, Rob Ryan stepped over to the trio of lovely ladies while Michiko moved to greet more incoming guests.

"Your Imperial Majesty" Rob Ryan bowed gallantly to Aeris. He'd known her for years, but enjoyed teasing her by being excessively formal with her.

He gave equally gallant bows to Cara and Catherine. " I believe I have the honor of being in the presence of the Imitoran First Speaker and President Zhao of Golden Simatar? Unless the briefings and dossiers were unutterably wrong." The Crown Prince's smile was warm and open, but they could see the sadness lurking in his still reddened eyes. Melody had practically been his little sister. His chest hurt from the deep sobs that had been wrenched from him but he would mourn further later, for the moment he was needed here.

"Alright, I'll try it. What do I need to do?"

"You are already useing a full audio and visual link through your remote contact devices, right?" Max asked, then contacted Nancia over internal frequencies.

"You'll need to reconfigure your array to this frequency, and if you have a booster available I find it often helps to bring it on line when working around certain technologies." He explained as another part of him contacted Central Security and had them bring the empty Avatar on line.

There you go, you are ready to link up. She currently looks like this (http://www.atddm.com/nancia.jpg)." Max gave Nancia an external view. "If you don't find that pleasing we can have the features and coloring reset, though it would take about two hours."

"That's fine. Uncle Forister did a solido based on DNA factors, but I've never had a form that I've known and my own is deformed, which is why I was shelled."

Nancia activated one of her booseter and configured one of her arrays to the proper frequency. The avatar suddenly moved a bit jerkily at first as she adjusted herself to the bipedal locomotion. She then looked around. She intentionally kept her functions to normal human limits to experience it.

"Oh Uncle Forister."

"Yes, my dear?" he replied.

"I'm so sorry", she told him and he looked up toward her column. "Soft shells are so LIMITED. How do you live like this?"

Forister chuckled, "We manage", he told her. "So why don't you bring her around and introduce me to the 'new you?'"

Samantha gave off a small polite smile and curtsey as the captain explained the situation. Had she been so distracted that she failed to realize that she and her companion had received the escort? It was possible, but she didn't like the thought of not being able to maintain control of her own thoughts and awareness. She was an elf, an angel, and most importantly the head of state in Blue Anthem Project, and leaders simply should not lose their train of concentration and awareness in such a manner. Still, she made the frustration hide best she could under the smile, and gave Elanderval a pat along the side to calm him as she responded to the captain.

"Greetings Mr. Carter, please I am to have you made your acquaintance. I appreciate the offer of you and your details services, and would be more than happy to have your protection by my side whilst I am here. I have but one simple request, and that is Elanderval here be taken good care of. He represents the noblest species of dragons in BAP, the majestic white snow dragons, who are all but extinct now, and I would be very much displeased if my fond pet and dearest companion were to come to any ill will during our visit. His needs are rather simple, an hour or so of flying a day and the usual food and water supply. Grant me this and then let us be on our way."

Samantha stroked the great beast and pulled her hair back behind her ear, giving the captain a clear look at the beautiful folded wings behind her. Muffling a small chuckle at the expense of the guardsmen stares, she strode towards on of the SUVs, and situated herself in the back, giving the driver a small flick of the wrist, and they were on there way. A soft sigh escaped from the dried lips of the woman, obviously chapped from the wind on her trip here. For being such a creature of grace and beauty, she did little on her own part to keep that image sustained. Perhaps it was the elven part of her and their love of nature, but she far preferred to do little as possible to maintain "proper" appearances, instead focusing on what to do and the best ways to do it. She was already planning her words carefully for the conference that she failed to spend the time to observe the beauty of the island, and the majesty of its' buildings.

Cara nodded politely, a slight head bow to each of the dignataries as she was introduced, offering a polite greeting.

I believe I have the honor of being in the presence of the Imitoran First Speaker

"Indeed, Your Highness," Cara offered, bowing slightly more than she had previously. "The pleasure is all mine."

Cara was somewhat new to these style of conferences. In a past life, when Imitora had been a member of the once powerful APTO, the regional conferences often ended in near conflict as stubborn heads colided, with the Imitorans, Pantarans, and Freeks rarely giving ground in anything. However, this seemed to be the sort that would hopefully go smoothly.

Cara accepted a glass of a local red, and took a sip of the wine, offering a sad smile to the Crown Prince.

"Miss Jones informed me of the recent tragedy. It is always sad to loose a young one, taken before their prime."

When the Tanaaran aide arrived he was promptly passed through a security check by two BCS units before he was escorted up to the embassy proper. Boris had already instructed his staff to accept any invitations regarding other members of the conference as he had somewhat expected something of this nature to occur before the serious discussions.

Upon being informed of the event Boris muttered something his idea of casual being a singlet, shorts and some rubber thongs. Whilst he half entertained the thought of turning up in such a manner, it probably didn't convey the kind of image a President should. Opening up his personal closet, Boris pulled out a pair of smooth black pants, a long sleeved pale blue shirt and a sports jacket of a similar colour to the pants. There wouldn't be a tie involved with this concoction and Boris didn't really care what shoes he wore.

Of course it didn't take long for Boris and Peter to get ready, being typical Assingtonian males meant they could be prepared for any event within ten minutes. Peter wore a similar outfit yet his jacket and pants were navy blue and his shirt emerald green. Neither had bothered to tuck their shirts in yet they weren't particularly long so they still appeared somewhat respectable. Boris took a moment to evaluate himself in front of a mirror before turning to his companion.

"Alright, let's go. Who did you pick out to come along?"

"Lieutenant Bilrow and Agent Miller."

Boris clapped his hands together as he noticed the two men standing in the embassy lobby, waiting to depart with him. Both were dressed in rather common coats and shirts, which looked highly amusing on Bilrow as he was almost never out of his military garb. Bilrow was a BCS unit, the culmination of Assingtonian research into bio-mechanical augmenting and genetic manipulation. Bilrow was a solider one hundred percent of the time and whilst he appeared very much human, he was something much more.

"Alright gentlemen, you know the drill. We're not expecting trouble tonight or at all during this conference but I'm sure you two and the men under your command are more than capable of dealing with any situation."

With that said, Bilrow, Miller and Peter followed their President out of the embassy and into the sleek vehicle designated to transport them to the event.
__________________________

Several well placed staff directed the Assingtonian party towards their destination and thus the four men arrived shortly after the Imitorans. Boris had never met any of these leaders or representatives since he spent most of the last decade on the outer edge of the solar system whilst all their nations fought together against a demonic menace. Internal issues had plagued Assington for that period and thus no support had been offered. Of course now that Boris was in charge, that wouldn't happen again.

Bilrow and Miller spread out and began to mingle, although it was reasonably obvious they weren't there to socialise. Boris gazed around at the finely decorated hall, keeping an eye out for a bar.

"What do you think the chance of this place serving a decent Assingtonian Ale are?"

Peter only chuckled.

"Why don't you ever try a foreign beer?"

"Because they're all rubbish."

The Minister of Defense was about to counter but realised he would only start an argument that he could not win and thus merely nodded.

"Let's go find the Tarlachian. They've been long time allies and we should probably get back into bed with them, even if they have been knocked around recently."

"Alright, lead the way."

Aeris listened as Michiko informed her of the situation regarding the child, then turned as Zhao approached. She shook the hand politely, meeting her gaze with her own strong one. "It is a pleasure to meet you President Zhao. I do hope that you and I can continue the close friendship Tarlachia and the Golden Simitar has held for many years."

Within moments afterwards, she had been introduced to Cara Rydell of Imitora, and greeted her with a slight bow of her own. With a slight smile, she commented, "I imagine your security detail are crawling inside the walls here, no? I'm a bit surprised they not surrounding you, ten men deep on all sides." She glanced to sole agent with Rydell, "Although, I'm sure this man here is more than capable of protecting you if the need ever arose."

The Tanaran Crown Prince approached and greeted Aeris politely, although subtly a tease. She turned her head, then her body to face him as she replied, "Crown Prince." A sly smile was on her lips for a brief moment. As they exchanged their familiar smiles, a single thought passed its way into the Prince's mind, Do come and visit me after this event.

"Let's go find the Tarlachian. They've been long time allies and we should probably get back into bed with them, even if they have been knocked around recently."

Although distance between the Empress and President Boris was a room's length, her sharp hearing still caught the tail end of their conversation. Turning her head to locate the owner of the voice, she soon saw Boris approaching. Excusing herself from the Crown Prince and others, she made her way to the Assingtonian and halted before him.

A serious look was plastered on her face. "The only ones getting into bed with me are those whom I favor personally, and even then, that's at great risk to those lucky few." Several moments passed and still she retained the tense locked jaw and piercing gaze. After seeing them shift ever so slightly uncomfortably, she finally let out a light laugh and shook the President's hand.

"It is good to meet you, President Boris."

Peter shuffled a little at Aeris' comment, hiding his surprise at her hearing their conversation. Boris on the other hand knew this game well. She was of cause taunting him, though he played along and pretended to be embarrassed until she finally released a light laugh, at which point Boris unveiled a deep chuckle.

"I can tell I'm going to like you, Empress Aeris."

Boris returned the hand shake before indicating towards Peter.

"This chap here is my Minister of Defense, Peter Durden."

Peter stepped forward and also shook the hand of the Tarlachian Empress.

"You'll have to excuse me ma'am, Boris and I tend to speak very casually amongst ourselves and are known to use a range of what some may deem... inappropriate metaphors."

Boris chuckled once again.

"I always quite liked that one..."

His needs are rather simple, an hour or so of flying a day and the usual food and water supply. Grant me this and then let us be on our way."

"Certainly your Majesty, I'll see to it that Elanderval is properly handled."

Colonerl Carter made a respectful bow as Queen Samantha was driven away, careful to keep his thoughts off of his face ' Mister Carter? Do they even have a proper military in that place? Probably not given how chaotic it's supposed to be there currently.' He thought, smarting at the insult.

Then he turned to the great crystaline white dragon. "Well, Elanderval, I'm John and lets see about getting you a comfortable place to stay. Out here on the landing field, while it might be good for launching and landing on, might tangle you up with the fighters."

He set to work figuring out where Elanderval would be the most comfortable.

The SUV that was transporting Queen Samantha arrived at the grecian style villa that had been retained as her residence, pulling up the long drive to glide to a silent halt before the front portico.

Do come and visit me after this event.


Rob Ryan, like his mother, was only minimally gifted; without the 'boost' of a psimatrix, a 'starstone', it would have been unuseable by him. However his signet ring held a small one and he was able, at so close a range, to reply similarly. 'So I will Aeris. It would be good to spend time with you again. You've been so busy of late.' He took a second to watch the Empress move off, knowing that something someone had said had caught her attention.

Then he turned to the Imitoran First Speaker, his right hand unconsciously caressing the wide, blackened titanium mourning cuff he wore on his left wrist.

"Miss Jones informed me of the recent tragedy. It is always sad to loose a young one, taken before their prime."

Rob struggled with his composure for a moment, his youthful tenor thick with suppressed grief. " Sadness is." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly
"Melody was my Ahrree" Rob clarified. "Closer than friend, sister of the heart." Intense familial loyality without the debts and obligations of blood. Bonds forged because of Mnhei'sahe, the Ruling Passion, by the acknowledgement of something so right, so certain that to deny it would be to deny ones own existance. Very few non natives truly understood the complex relationships that permiated Tanaaran culture. It was the way the Tanaarans managed to work together without sacrificing their fierce individuality.

Rob Ryan turned the subject to soemthing less emotionally charged, asking Cara. "I know that most Imitorans aren't in to equestrian sports, but perhaps we could arrange an impromptu road rally on one of the free days."

He drew Catherine into the conversation as well. "I noticed that your embassy grounds sport a stables, though it did not look currently in use. Do you ride? Perhaps another day we could plan a cross country ride if you do."

"I wouldn't have it any other way." Zhao said to Areis. The Golden Simatar had a lot to owe to the Tarlachians, even before the Simatarians came upon the existence of vampires and other creatures of the night, the two countries had been allied for centuries.

She shook hands with the Imitorians and gave them warm smiles. Though from what she heard the Tarlachian Queen say, apparently they were a hyperparanoid bunch. Zhao also offered her greetings to the Tanaran Prince and in the back of her mind thought if she was younger, she would go for him.

She was distracted for a second as Aries moved off towards of group of tough looking men. It took her a bit to recongize one of them as the Assingtonian President, they had never met but she had exchanged a few phone calls and seen his picture.

Zhao turned back as Ryan addressed her about the out of use stables.

"Those were put in by a president decades ago...haven't been used since and since we barely keep a skeletal cleaning staff here, its used mostly for storage nowadays. I don't ride personally, I tried to as a teenager but got knocked off quite a number of times and hurt my back a bit so...never have picked it up again. Though I have heard that you are somewhat of an accomplished racer or something."

Though I have heard that you are somewhat of an accomplished racer or something."

Something changed when Catherine said that, an ever so faint stiffening of the Crown Prince's spine, and a cold gleam in his eyes that made him suddenly seem older than his years, and a man -not anything resembling a boy - a very dangerous man at that.

"Yes, some say I am a decent driver. I guess I get it from both sides. My father was Robert Francis Fortier the third, of Imitora. He was, during his life time, Imitora's foremost driver. He founded the Imitora's Players Run, and my mother helped break him out of prison." Hisw gaze was locked on the First Speaker of Imitora, and his tone of voice did not bother to hide challenge? defiance? What ever it was, there was a not so deeply buriied emnity there within Robert Ryan Fortier - Hexx for the Imitoran leader.. "I also have every bit of a Tanaaran's love for horses. I enjoy both greatly, driving and riding."

I know that most Imitorans aren't in to equestrian sports, but perhaps we could arrange an impromptu road rally on one of the free days.

Those were put in by a president decades ago...haven't been used since and since we barely keep a skeletal cleaning staff here, its used mostly for storage nowadays. I don't ride personally, I tried to as a teenager but got knocked off quite a number of times and hurt my back a bit so...never have picked it up again. Though I have heard that you are somewhat of an accomplished racer or something.

Cara followed the conversation about the horses breifly, she had never been much into riding. However, when the talk turned to auto racing, she perked right back up.


Yes, some say I am a decent driver. I guess I get it from both sides. My father was Robert Francis Fortier the third, of Imitora. He was, during his life time, Imitora's foremost driver. He founded the Imitora's Players Run, and my mother helped break him out of prison.

Cara noticed the change in voice with Rob Ryan, a voice that she herself had oftened heard at drags back home. She herself took part in racing, but not so much as of late. The First Speakership was far more important, but she did participate in the occasional back road romp.

"A road rally, yes, maybe." She thought about it for a moment, and would need to make a few calls to possibly get a car up here. A good friend of her's from college, Andrew Lutz, now owned the new premire tuning house, an aptly named Bat Shit Crazy Tuning. While not as, polished, as say the former Northampton Import Automotive Specialties or Courthouse Motors, BSC was already well known.

"I'm not sure I ever met anyone named Robert Fortier, but then again, my racing days were limited at best. I looked less for racing, more for a spirited drive every now and then. However, I will admit," she paused, taking another sip of wine, "I haven't rode a horse for near twenty years now. At least."

"I can tell I'm going to like you, Empress Aeris...This chap here is my Minister of Defense, Peter Durden."

"Only one of my charms, sir." Aeris replied momentarily before she smiled politely and greeted the minister with a shake of the hand.

"You'll have to excuse me ma'am, Boris and I tend to speak very casually amongst ourselves and are known to use a range of what some may deem... inappropriate metaphors."

She waved it off as if it were inconsequential. "Believe me, I've heard worse. But, I suggest you watch your tongue around here. I might not mind it much, but there are others here who are more likely to do so, and whatever results from this conference might not be as favorable for Assington." A quick, relaxed smile, "Just a warning is all."

Stepping forward between the two men, she spun about and placed a hand on their backs to usher them forward gently, "Come, meet the others."

As they approached, Aeris called out, "Ladies and Gentlemen, if I might be allowed the introduction of Assington's leadership." She awaited as they turned to look at the trio, "President Boris and Minister Peter Durden."

An arm gestured to the nearest of the others to begin counter-introductions, "Dowager Empress Michiko Jones of the Tanaran Empire, ambassador to Fatal Terrain...Crown Prince Robert Ryan Fortier-Hexx of Tanaara...President Catherine Zhao of Golden Simatar and First Speaker Cara Rydell."

She looked around at each of the faces, studying their expressions and their body language. Each were different, some nervous, some relaxed, and others simply just formal. She hoped that such distinctions would be overcome in the debates and negotiations to come.

A small cough from the driver caught Samantha's attention, and she realized that they had arrived already. Feeling quite couped up in the stuffy SUV and the ridiculous outfit she had been requested to wear, she was quickly out and making her way inside the beautifully crafted structure. She adored how the Greeks, and later on the Romans, had made their coumns. Such skill in those pillars just struck her as the closest the human race would ever get to perfection, but it was quite the sight to behold. She only lamented that the many of the great Greek works at the Parnethon were destroyed or broken, for the works their were supposed to be the pillar of Greek craftsmenship, and if this were but there ordinary works, then what would their best of been like?

Upon entrance, a elderly man, bearing some sort of royal ensignia handed Samantha a small envolope. Her content smile turned to a frown when she read its' contents. She was in no mood to go to a meet and greet party, and she badly wanted to get out of the cermonial robes, but the politician in her knew she had to go, and had to look presentable. Thus she had to stay in the outfit at least awhile longer, for she did not bring anything that would be appropiate in the party atmosphere. Resigned to the fact, she put her things in the master bedroom, and made her way back to the SUV, instructing the driver to take her to the Palace du Nuit, but to make it slow. Afterall, what is the rush to get to a place where she did not even wish to be?

Out side of the Palace du Nuit a patch of shadows was empty no longer, for Shalamar (http://www.atddm.com/Shal1a.jpg), the Lady of Cats Keep had just Stepped from her Tower to the palace grounds. On eather shoulder of the specially padded black velvet doublet rode her Bond and Familiar, MBC (http://www.atddm.com/mbc.jpg) and Smug (http://www.atddm.com/flapcat1.jpg) respectively. The Lady thought for a second and her form shifted slightly, easing back into an appearance that was fully human.

"Dead Demons! Aeris has those dampers turned up high. I don't think I could weave a light spell" Smug proclaimed unhappily as he twitched his irridescent black wings open and flitted from Shalamar's left shoulder.

"It's not a problem for me." MBC snickered as the he too launched himself airborne.

"We'll settle this later, back home little brother." Smug muttered as Shalamar gave them a small frown.

The Lady of Cats Keep straightened the full, flowing sleeves of her silk shirt and shook her head, tossing her nearly waist length mane of wavey auburn hair back from her face. She'd long ago given up trying to tame it, and now mostly tried to keep it out of her face. The crystal, sliver, blue and gold of a starstone, a psi matrix gleamed at her throat, alerting all who had the knowledge that a Tenerista, one who had the mind gifts and was a fully trained adept, walked among them.

Her majical abilities were only moderate but, Shalamar Lady of Cats Keep, was one of the strongest psionics on the planet, and there were many who would see her dead because of those donas. Abaddon had wanted her dead for other reasons as well, but she'd survived him - and worse. She was nearly twelve thousand years old and had long ago since left 'human' behiind.

Her pants were soft suede leather that slid into soft, nearly thigh high suede boots with buffalo hide soles that gave her a completely soundless walk..

There had been time enough for Laura to bolster herself with her powerful psionic talents. Enough so that she could use a small bit of magic to summon the clothing she deemed appropriate for the informal meeting. She had chosen a diaphanous dress that was red at the low cut neckline, lightening to yellow at the skirts that was just hazy enough to hide her body, but tantalizingly sheer enough to make the mind wander and knee length, white strap sandals. Her father now wore a light blue tunic that matched his ice blue eyes and black silk pants and black leather boots. Steel cable muscle slid beneath the skin of his arms, his flesh seeming to melt away in his old age, though his strength and vitality continued to serve him. To Tailchaser she gave a soft gray, suede shirt and skirt, leaving out footwear as was the Viscountess desire.

Anita wore a pants suit of light tan with a white shirt and light tan blazer, preferring a more professional look. She strapped on a wrist comp and waited while Micaya reaffixed the contact buttons that would keep them in constant contact with Nancia.

“I would prefer to go along”, Micaya told her.

“I am sure you would”, Lauralin replied before the president could answer, “I am sure others will have security with them. We have not really interacted much with anyone and I would prefer not to go to this preliminary meeting dinner with a show of force. It is a show of trust I seek. Besides, Father, Fritti and I can handle ourselves and we shall see to the Presidents safety.”

They walked out of the mansion, Laura’s father close at her side.

“Are you sure you’re up for this”, he asked in his deep rumbling voice.

“I have no other choice.”

“You have”, came his barrel chested response, “you’ve not had time to grieve.”

“The time to grieve for my lost wife will came”, came her reply, “duty to the people must come first and the last emergency was beyond putting off.”

“Do you think the skullkingdom will show after attacking us and killing Arleena and our people?” he asked.

“That remains to be seen. If they do, it their right. All were invited”, replied.

“This is your first major meeting since you left the U.N.”

“This is not the U.N. father, I left for good reason”, she stopped and looked at him. “I shall be alright. Fear not for me.”

He smiled and shook his head, “Your like your mother”, he told her. “Funny that I as a holy knight and your mother as a high priestess should end up with a daughter who is a vampire”, he said as he started walking toward the horses.

“I took the curse willingly in order to secure the defeat of Orcus. I would do so again.”

“I know”, he replied, “but your never going to tell me how much you sacrificed are you?”

‘No’, she thought to herself. How could she tell him that if she were destroyed then her soul would be wholly consumed and that she would never see her mother or him in the afterlife. “Perchance. One never knows what might be”, she replied.

He lifted her easily into the side saddle and looked over at Tailchaser and Anita. While Lauralin settled herself in he moved over to the president, the viscountess seeming quite at home on the horse.

“Allow me to assist you, Madam”, he offered as he approached Anita, “and let me beg forgiveness for our accommodations. There is still time to request transport.”

Anita smiled, “No. I’ll ride. It’s just been awhile, but I’ll take that help.” Turquine lifted her into the side saddle, having anticipated that she would be wearing something other than pants. “My husband rides all the time, but I’m afraid my career doesn’t make time for it.”

Turquine nodded, “True. Leadership rarely gives time for pleasure.”

The other ready, Turquine swung easily onto the horse he had chosen the four made their way to the palace.

Once they arrived and dismounted they were surprised to see Forister standing beside a woman.

“Colonel?” Anita asked, “I thought you were staying with Nancia?”

“He is, Mrs. President”, the woman replied. “The Tanaarans were kind enough to offer me an avatar to use so I might participate.”

“How wonderful”, Anita said smiling. “I’m sure it must be thrilling for you.”

“It’s …. Different”, she replied. “It just takes some getting used to and don’t worry, I am still monitoring everything from my ship.”

Anita nodded, still smiling as they headed in. Lauralin had taken her father’s arm and they led the way. Anita and Fritti followed him while Forister took Nancia’s arm, slid it in his, and followed the other inside.

"A Paladin and a vampire in close proximity to one another without engaging in mortal combat. Interesting." Shalamar's voice was amused, as she turned about to watch those who entered the spacious entry hall of the Palace du Nuit after her. One eyebrow was raised and a half smile hovered over her lips. She was well used to guaging power to a fine degree and knew that at least some of those in the newly arrived group could see her true form.

Then her eyes lit on the black furred felinid form of the Vicountess, and she nodded her head and inquired in Falaneese "Greeting's lady of fur and fang, was the ride here enjoyable?" The faint scent of horses was about them. And besides Smug and MBC had already apprised her of the fact that the latest arrivals had come a horse back.

Lauralin, Turquine, Tailchaser and Forister looked around the room with the seasoned experience of warriors, locating entrances, exits and other possible means of entry and egress that could be noted, as well as gauging the capabilities of those around them by the way they carried themselves.

Anita looked around with the eye of a seasoned diplomat, taking into account the potential skill of the others there as fellow diplomatic envoys rather than thier skill as combatants.

Nancia looked around in wonder, having only seen pictures of the insides of buildings, aside from shell school where she scooted around in her pre-ship shell and learned her lessons.

Lauralin's eyes locked on Shalamar's for a brief moment, seeing a shifting of the woman's form and making a note of it so that she could inquire about it should the chance arise.

Fritti gave a toothy smile, that to those not familiar with catfolk looked more like a baring of teeth in threat.

"Greetings", she replied in kind, though the languages were a bit different, they were both understandable enough. "May your claws never grow dull and your sight never dim", she said, giving her own peoples more ancient greeting. "The ride was slow, but passing fair. It's good to see that there will be reasonable folk around", she said, twitching an ear in amusement.

Michiko winced slightly at Rob Ryan's reaction to the Imitoran First Speaker's implied dismissal of his father. While she was full apprised of the events currently unfolding between Tanaara and Imitora, he hadn't been yet. Mercy's decission to spend these greif fueled hours with her dearest friends, instead in close proximity to a woman she might not be able to restrain the urge to kill, was probably a good one. Mercy's rage when she was given the information in the Winston files, but a few hours before the equally aweful news of Melody's death, had been of unimaginable porportions. 'In way horrible way Meldoy's death did avert a declaration of war.' Michiko thought sadly. 'However Rob is too observant not to deduce that his mother has some very personal hatered for Imitora'a government. And I don't know how much he over heard earlier. Voices got very raised.' She snorted mentally. 'Raised? Deafening was more like it' Her internal musings ended when she heard the voice of another one of the acknowledgedly 'difficult people'. Her sigh was an audible one, if very quiet.

She turned from the introductions that Aeris had been making, pleased at how the young Empress was doing, and headed for the entry. She could see Shalamar was already talking to one of the new comers.

"The ride was slow, but passing fair. It's good to see that there will be reasonable folk around",

Shalamar laughed and replied impishly. "There are many who think me most unreasonable, but I think it's just a clash of personalities." Then she looked over to the just arrived Michiko..

Michiko smiled at her and turned her attention to the others
"You Majesties Turquine, and Lauralin, Viscountess Tailchasser, President Chung, Colonel Forister and..." Her memory brought up the Colonel, but not the lady he was escorting then an aide sent her a mental message, and she beamed delightedly "Lady Nancia! So please to meet all of you. I am Michiko Jones, the Tanaran Empire's Ambassador to Fatal Terrain.
Then she turned to Shalamar with a wry look "I thought you said not to bother you even if there was another war. But it's still good to see you Lady Shalamar. Have you introduced yourself yet?

" Yes I did say not to bother me, but for once things were running smoothly for me. An No, not really" Shalamar advised aloud, then continued in the privacy of mental contact 'One's a vampire, the other a paladin, and How is Mercy doing? Kazuma and Robyn? And I cam because if things get out of hand there well may be another war' Shalamar added.

'Later!' Michiko made the introductions between Shalamar and the other's who'd just arrived. "Please, come in and meet the others." She led them over to the group the group that Aeris was speaking to.

OOC: If I am too late to enter I can delete, or if not can I edit my post?

They greeted Michiko with respect and awaited her brief exchange with Shalamar. Upon thier introduction to Shalamar Lauralin couldn't help but stare at the woman as she seemed to shift in her vision. Once the others had greeted her in turn they politely excused themselves to follow Michiko a group of people.

Lauralin, Turquine, Anita and Forister were taking things in stride, used to functions such as these.

Nancia was still looking around in wonder, analyzing the acustics of the building, the play of the light on the various textures in the room and the cacophony of sound that she rarely heard within her own walls.

Tailchaser was having the worst time of it. With the number of people there already she was beginning to feel vulnerable and looked about to find shadowy corners in which she was particularly adept at hiding in, but continued to moved with the others with outright determination.

Zhao arched an eyebrow as the Prince mentioned that his mother aided his father breaking out of prison. A very strange bunch I have to say. But, thats love for you I guess. Zhao herself had been married for a brief time in her early years and didn't have the intention to remarry.

"Mrs. President?" Lussier appeared next to her and handed her a glass filled with ice and an orange colored liquid. He had a glass with some kind of a scotch. "Found a servant to get you something to drink."

"Thank you very much General." Zhoa took a sip as she looked over at Aeris as she began to nudge the Assingtonians overs. "Oh they don't appear that pleased with her...as memory serves you apparently yelled at her."

Lussier nodded. During the demonic wars, one of his divisions was being torn to shreds, they had the upper hand in the battle until waves of demon magic began to sweep over them. It had taken a very firery called to Aeris to get the elves to help save the Simatarians from obliteration. "Yes well....thats war for you."

Zhao smiled as the Assingtonians arrived and offered her hand. "President Boris and Minister Durden, a pleasure to finally meet you both. Oh, and this is our Secetary of Defense, Nicholas Lussier."

"Vicountess Tailchaser, we both might be more comfortable out on that terrace." Shalamar's observant and knowledgeable eyes had caught the Vasnearean's well hidden lack of comfort. "We can snag plates of nibbles and a couple of goblbets of drink - and let those smart enough to know to come looking for us, find us." She indicated the several wide french style doors that had been thrown open to allow the sweet scents of night blooming flowers be wafted in on the evenings breeze.

The palace's servants were laying out a moveable feast, decorative platters and other serving dishes guests could select their preferences from. More circulated with offerings of finger foods from all the regions cultures, and still others offered a vast variety of beverages, intoxicating and not, chilled or steaming. The long bar along one wall was well stocked

Tail smiled and nodded, grabbing a plate of as raw a meat as possible and some water and moved out to the terrace with Shalamar. Once outside she seemed much relieved and inhaled the scents of the night air. She crouched near one of the doors, close, but not to close and watched Shalamar a moment.

"Upon what spaces do your peaple roam?" she asked.

********

Nancia wasn't sure if her 'body' could handle food or drink and so simply abstained, while Frost took a glass of ice water himself and gazed around.

"What is the point of this meeting?" Nancia asked him.

"To get to know the other peoples. See what thier like. Hopefully resolve any possible points of contention, that sort of thing.

"Why not just send messages?" she wondered.

"Because in getting to know a people it's best to meet them face to face. Sometimes the voice, mannerisms, body language and tone can tell more than just words."

Nancia nodded, tucking the information away for later consideration.

********

Anita stayed close to Frost and Nancia, taking a light wine for herself and some crackers with cheese. She was adding information almost constantly into her wrist com. People, names, countries, attitudes toward things that she heard them speaking of, anything that she could get.

********

Turquine found a good elven wine and heaped a plate with various things, then looked at Lauralin.

"I doubt they serve what I need", she said in a low voice. He frowned but nodded, eating heartily.

"What now?" he asked.

"Not much, tonight. This is just a meeting of the delegates. Many will seek to gain favor this night, or hope to anyway, thus perchance adding weight to the talks that will most likely begin upon the morrow", she replied.

"But we won't", Turquine stated.

"No. If favor rules over wisdom, then it is not worth my time."

He nodded and glanced about as he ate.

Cara brushed off the Prince's attitude as nothing more than racer's bravado, something all to common in Imitora. That, or possible ego boost. Either way, the two were related in some way. She followed Aeris and her introduction to some of the other dignateries, but returned her conversation to Rob Ryan.

"So, Your Highness, have you ever had the chance to race in Imitora? I know we often have many foreign visitors comming to race with us, on many fronts. Its our primary tourist industry, and a number of our smaller, private businesses take much advantage of the situation."

She took another pull from the dark red wine, her eyes flicking over to Irving, who was off examing some piece of art of sorts.

Boris smiled as he shook the hand of the Simatarian President. The Golden Simatar was also another long time ally of Assington and the two nations had cooperated significantly on issues such as supernatural threats to their population, namely vampires.

Whilst Assington first realised it had a vampire problem long before the Golden Simatar even realised there were such creatures out there, their neighbours had provided a unique insight into dealing with vampires and even shared many technologies of their own that had been developed with such a purpose in mind.

"President Zhao, it's an honour to meet you. I hope we can continue the close relationship that has existed between our nations all these years."

Peter was first to shake hands with Lussier, keen to meet his Simatarian counterpart.

"Mr. Lussier, I've been meaning to talk to you about your latest encounter with those creatures that live within the wasteland to the north of your nation, I'm sure you can understand that I'd like to have our military prepared if they ever have to fight them."

"I hope for the same, you and Tarlachia have been our most valuable allies since the time of horses and wagons." Zhao said as she shook the hand of the Assingtonian President. She had been to Assington once when she was new to the political arena as a Represenative, but hadn't ventured further than the embassy walls...the Simatarians were hyper paranoid about vampires after their discovery.

"I trust all is going well at home?"

Lussier shook the hand of his Assingtonian counterpart. He hadn't met Durden, but briefly knew the man before him. During the Demonic Wars, the Assingtonian military had played a more minor role as apparently they were heavily occupied with their own troubles.

To the north of the Golden Simatar, there was a waste land caused by the wars and at the moment the Simatarian military patroled it constantly. Attempts to replant trees and make it vibrant and green again had failed in most of the place, mostly brush and thorns were there. In a way it was a bit of a blessing as it gave a clean area to test out the military hardware the Simatarians were working on.

"You'll be one of the first I'll call. So far nothing is out there...a few desert snakes and lizards but that is about it. We are testing out various new toys out there, tanks, planes, guns...a lot of fun. What has been going on with Assington these days? Anything new with your vampire problem?"

Boris nodded at Zhao's question, it had taken a while but things were finally starting to settle down back in Assington.

"I'm sure you've been briefed somewhat but the last President was not exactly put into office legally so there's been quite a bit of internal strife over the last decade. Things are starting to settle down once again though, thankfully. I trust the Golden Simatar is doing well?"

Peter nodded his appreciation. He felt it had been a bad move not to lend a more significant military force to the cause of fighting those demons but he hadn't been anywhere near in charge of military affairs back then.

"Fortunately one redeeming factor of the old President was his lack of tolerance for vampires. They're practically shoot on sight these days. Some think it's a little harsh but sometimes extreme measures need to be taken. New toys are our focus too at the moment, mainly in anticipation of what these demons can do. I heard some nasty stories about battles on the Simatarian front line."

"Upon what spaces do your peaple roam?"

Shalamar had found a garden chair and eased down into it with a plate heavily laden with a variety of foods. "We left our home world many thousands of years ago to settle in the Shadows. Then we were attacked and to get us to safety, I brought us here. But most of my people prefered to return to Shadow so they did. Only I and a few stayed. Cats Keep is a very small holding nestled inbetween Tarlachia and Tanaara, in a small mountain valley. I raise horses there among other things." She took a sip of spiced mint tea, savoing the tangy flavor. " And you lady? I know of several races of felines, but you are are not part of the races I know."

~Else where in the room~

A servant approached Lauralin with a tray bearing a gold goblet. "Your Majesty, Ambassador Jones advised us that you might prefer this to other drinks. We do keep a stock on hand, Master Frost, one of Her Majesty's secretaries is of your race." He said discretely.

Its our primary tourist industry, and a number of our smaller, private businesses take much advantage of the situation."

The Crown Princes cool demeanor did not unbend, but his voice and words were polite. " No Ma'am. I've not had the pleasure of racing in Imitora. Mother wouldn't allow it when I was a minor, and I have been too busy to race at all in the last couple of months."

His grin, so much like his fathers - Fortiers quick cold lip curl and flash of teeth, that was in no way a smile, when he was amusedly furious - flashed briefly. "However mother gave me Spell Breaker on my birthday. It was the last car Black Owl Customs ever built." He went silent for a moment then stepped closer to the First Speaker, his words for her ears alone.

"And when you declare someone's death, and his service to the last to his nations, as never having happened, you might want to think of the consequences."

Zhao had heard of Assington's rather problematic change of power. She always found it a bit depressing that some people were so power hungry they are more interested in making a grab for a high seat no matter what the cost to their people. The Golden Simatar had drifted slightly from Assington during that time period but once the old President was booted, they came back.

"We are doing fine. I am taking a lot of heat from the right about a gay marriage bill that I am supporting. We haven't had much of an internal problem, economy is doing well...trying to find a way to shift to a bit more of a peacetime economny without hurting it too much. I can say the military was nervous about me taking over as I put my weight behind a bill that would basically put massive firearms restrictions on the civilian populace the second I got in...but after sending a bit of cash their way and selecting Lussier as my Sec Def, they have settled down. Suprising to me we are actually getting vampires into our country. None are registered...and since about six years ago I think it was that we started to have vamps settle...average about hundred deaths a year to vampires at the start. But most are caught and killed within a week or so of arrival and the number has dropped to about fifty or so."

Zhao didn't mention to Boris that a large bit of credit of the drop in the number went to Stephen and Nicole Malone. Stephen was TGS's first vampire and was about 1,500 years old. He had been captured almost by accident and studied...Nicole was one of the assistants and over Stephen's several month imprisonment, they had fallen in love. After being set free, Nicole left with him and he turned her and even married her. The pair was now living in secret in TGS working to help hunt down vampires who plague the country and they were damn good at thier jobs, taking down most of the vampires within a week or two by themselves or contacting the head of the VIB of the vampire's locations. Only Zhao, Lussier and the head of the VIB knew of thier existance within the country. Aeris was the only other national figure to know the pair as her uncle and past King Sigrun Greenwood had been a close friend of the pair, though this was something Zhao didn't know.

"Overall my country is doing rather well. Could be better, could be worse. Course Tarlachia is worse off than us both put together. First demons attack, then that huge ass earthquake and then demonic takeover for about a decade. Some places are still apparently wasteland last I heard."


Lussier nodded to Durden as he mentioned Assington's rather strict policy on vampires. He couldn't blame him, dispite the fact there were two legal vampires in the Golden Simatar who were indeed allowed to feed upon the human populace as long as they didn't kill thier prey....Lussier still thought they only good vampire was a dead one. Though, that wasn't his department and he was forced to admit the Malones had kept the vampire problem at least smaller than Assington.

"Well my friend, sooner or later your vampires are gonna try to make covens in our country again. While your VP is good...we hauled in tanks the first go round it happened and that has scared them off for a while. Personally I would like to see them completely eradicated, even the few legal ones in your country or others.

"Right now we are working on a new assault rifle that fires a big ten milimeter bullet, caseless, that is suppose to punch through the thick demon hide. We are also working on our own Mech or Metal Gear designs and blending that with new age tanks...most of the armor guys who have played with the Mech we were given don't like them very much."

Lussier gave a small smile to Durden as he sipped his scotch. "Yet so far we haven't put any money in X-Wings or Star Destroyers...let you and everyone else play laser tag up there."

The driver drove as slowly as he could without causeing a traffic snarl, and given that the traffic was light this evening, was rather slow indeed, barely idling along at a mere twenty miles per hour. However eventually he pulled up the long drive that led to the Palace Du Nuit, and then to the circular drive before the entry way.

He slowed to a stop, and cleared his throat again. "Your Majesty, we have arrived ." He softly advised Queen Samantha as a foot man stepped forward to open the door for the Ruler of the Blue Anthem Project.

Cara offered a polite nod.

"Well, you must make some time to visit, and possibly enjoy some of the races. I myself was never able to take charge of a BOC car, hwoever, I've known a few individuals to own some. Mostly the custom Corvettes they were so fond of turning out.

She took a quiet sip as Rob Ryan leaned in, offering a cold, cool smile.

And when you declare someone's death, and his service to the last to his nations, as never having happened, you might want to think of the consequences.

Cara returned Rob Ryan's smirk with her own, and leaned in towards him as he spoke. As he finished, her voice took on an almost Southern twang, even though her voice remained cool.

"Son, I'm sorry if you feel personally hurt over some agent or Marine or Soldier dying while doing his duty. But you'll have to understand. I'm rulling over a good eight plus billion people, and a good portion of them are in the military. Active duty, reservitsts, assistant logistics, guard units, all those good things. That doesn't even begin to take into account contractors, State Department operators, ICI and FCI specialists, or my own ISS detail. So, I'm sorry if I can't personally remeber the name and or date of everyone who died doing what they were told to do. And if your father's death was deemed a non issue, then I'm sure that the powers that be regarding such work have a damned good reason."

As the last words slipped out of her mouth, Irving noticed the possible confrontation out of the corner of his eye. He began to move in, placing his ice water down as his jacket flaired from his movements. It settled quickly, but quick eyes would have noticed the Galco Miami Classic holding a black Wilson Combat Comp and two extra magazines. Even in his casual mode, Irving would rather be dead than unarmed.

Just as the word reason left Cara's lips, Irving came to a stop by her side. His smile was polite, partially sincere, and his voice calm yet apprehensive. "Every thing ok over here? Your Highness," Irving concluded with a bow, "don't believe we've had the pleasure to meet."

“Vastnear”, she stated, “east of Skullkingdom and Highport beyond the mountains that stand between us”, she told Shalamar, not sure where any of them stood in relation to the places mentioned by the woman.

“We are still baronies there, despite my best efforts to unify us. One in particular stands in the way. The problem is they are across the great waters where most of us won’t go.”

********

Lauralin flashed a smile at him, taking the goblet. “Please thank Ambassador Jones for me, if you would be so kind. This is much appreciated”, she told him in her beautiful, musical voice. Laura was known to be a very good singer, though she, herself, denied it.

Turquine eyed the goblet and saw her eyeteeth slip from their gum sheaths as she raised it to drink. He looked away, feeling the old pang of failure in his heart, wondering how he could have let his daughter come to this.

********

Nancia leaned close to Forister, “What do we do now?” she asked in a low tone.

Frost looked at her, “Well, being as I’m not a diplomat and only attended functions such as these after being drug kicking and screaming to them, I tended to just stand in corners and talk to plants.”

Nancia laughed out loud as she pictured her uncle in a corner holding a discussion concerning the best way to break into the latest security systems with a fern.

********

Anita continued taking notes on the persons around her, jotting down various things that were said to loudly for further consideration as she wandered about, looking at various pieces of art and décor.

then I'm sure that the powers that be regarding such work have a damned good reason."

Rob Ryan ignored the security agenst presence for the moment as his father's grin returned once again." I guess that leaves you too busy to keep up with your nations recent history and what your intellegence agencies are doing."

Out on the terrace Shalamar abruptly looked inside, her eyes going directly to where the Tanaaran Crown Prince, the Imitoran First Speaker, and someone who simply screamed 'protective detail' stood having a conversation. She couldn't over hear it, the distance and interveining other noises were too great now that the reception room was abuzz with not only soft music but other conversations as well. But she could not ignore the emotional spike that the Prince was sending up, no matter how calmly polite his face and bearing appeared. "Excuse me a moment please Vicountess Tailchaser. I may be needed in there." With alacrity she stood and moved into the reception room heading purposefully toward the trio.

Rob Ryan continued. "If I recall correctly your last elected official that held the title of President was Amanda Ormsby, who was assassinated. Then just a few years later during Imitora's brief monarchal period, Queen Anna Fratelli was also assassinated. Thomas Gibson, who was First Speaker immediately before you...Now you worked for the state department for how long? I believe your dossier said for ten years before becoming First Speaker? You might ask your intellegence agencies who all three of those people have in common, and what projects Cat, Edge, and Breach have to do with your nation's interfering with my country."

No, Rob Ryan had not heard everything earlier that afternoon, but he had heard just enough to have him angry and confused. He had intended to confront his mother over the bits and pieces he had inadvertantly oiverheard. However before he could, the terrible news of Melody's death arrived, and untill he had been reminded, via the President of the Golden Simatar's comment, he'd forgotten his questions.

His voice had never risen above a conversational level, but it was firmly authorative. He was not going to back down from the older, more experienced woman. He was fishing, hoping for answers but some part of him knew that when he got them the results might be irrevocable.

Looking between Zhao and Boris with an alarmed look, Aeris made her move to step closer to the two of them and speak to them under her breath. "I understand you two have animosity against vampires and such...but it might be better if you save that particular category of conversation for another time and place. You two obviously have not observed that there is a vampire in a position of power in this room. You're lucky you haven't been confronted yet."

She glanced at either of them with a determined look, "So, another topic, all right?"

Out of the corner of her eye, swift movement caught Aeris' attention, causing her to watch as a familiar figure strode across the room, her focus entirely on the duo of the Tanaaran Prince and the Imitoran President. Near the two of them, another stood, obviously security detail, his own expression neutral, yet causing enough stress in the facial muscles to indicate something was happening between the two, something just not right.

She returned her gaze to Shalamar, sending a thought her way, I'm nearby if you need me. She knew the feline would recognize the mental wavelength and the voice that accompanied it.

Aeris cast her gaze around the room, committing to memory who was where, and with whom. She located Mercy by mindlink and informed her of the potentially hostile situation brewing only sixty-some-odd feet away from her. Then, she finally returned her gaze to the two standing next to her.

"Anyway, reconstruction efforts are doing well back home." She gave them both another look, one that was more teasing, "Thank you for asking." A slight smile crept across her face before it disappeared again. A hand reached out to her side as a servant walked up behind her with a tray of drinks upon it. Without looking, she grasped a goblet of wine, caring not for whence it came and took a sip. If this had surprised either of them due to the servant not once having come in her range of direct sight, she gave no reaction. She had after all, heard him coming, and she had noted that all the servants wore a particular shoe style, giving them a distinct footstep.

Boris shrugged, conveying his agreement.

"I've nothing against vampires that don't lurk about the streets of Assington killing my people. Would I offend you, lady of Tarlachia, if I mentioned there are some pesky Elves south-east of Emerald City that have been putting arrows into the chests of those that wished to wander the forests?"

It was evident Boris' comment was a jest and despite barely knowing Aeris he felt she shared his sense of humour. Taking note of Aeris' skillful acquisition of the goblet, Boris could only grin. It was a big world out there and despite considering himself a worldly man, there was a lot unknown to him and his people.

"I was just getting to reconstruction... honest. On a more serious note, if there is anything we can do to help you only have to call. We've got a few handy toys that may make logistics and general reconstruction a little easier for you."

Peter couldn't help but grin at Lussier's reference to the Assingtonian space fleet. Whilst there had been some form of spacecraft under the Assingtonian banner for a long time, progress with the technology was erratic as some Presidents chose to designate more effort and funding towards it than others.

"I can understand why, I don't think I'll ever get used to being transformed into a contained field of data-energy and beamed from orbit onto the planet, gets me everytime. Although I think you'll find in this day and age it's just another necessary aspect of the military, just like the navy or airforce."

If I recall correctly your last elected official that held the title of President was Amanda Ormsby, who was assassinated. Then just a few years later during Imitora's brief monarchal period, Queen Anna Fratelli was also assassinated. Thomas Gibson, who was First Speaker immediately before you. Now you worked for the state department for how long? I believe your dossier said for ten years before becoming First Speaker? You might ask your intellegence agencies who all three of those people have in common, and what projects Cat, Edge, and Breach have to do with your nation's interfering with my country.

Cara restrained a sigh.

"I'm affraid what ever little conspiratorial or trivial connection they share is of little concern to me. If anything, it was most likely private, and in Imitora, the people and press respect the private lives of their government officials. What one does outside the office has no bearing on their leadership skills whatsoever, and if no problem is found, then it is often left alone."

Cara hardly remebered Ormsby, the former President had an administration laden with issues, from the ANH issues, the Deazemani masacre scandle, and other problems. Fratelli's reign, from First Speaker to Queen to assasination, had been nothing but a joke. And Gibbson, well, she had met the man twice, her position in the State Department having been an relations assingment, and she hardly ever worked with the First Speaker.

"Now," she said, taking one last sip of the wine and finishing off the glass, handing it to a near by waiter, "if the ICIA, INSA, FCI, or the E-I-E-I-O have any operations undergoing review at the moment, I'm sure it is done for good reason. One thing you will eventually learn if you ever do become a leader is that you need to trust those around you. I give my agencies enough leway to allow them to act in the best interest of the nation with out wading through red tape or worrying about acting in a politically correct manner. It is a tennant of Imitoran society to solve problems before they occur, not wait till they happen to look back."

Irving had relaxed slightly. The Prince had looked edgy, and that caused his movement. However, upon realizing it was not more than a simple, heated political discussion, he allowed himself to take a few steps back, and observe from a close distance. He wouldn't leave the First Speaker's side until he was specifically dismissed or the confrontation ended. His hope was for the former of the two. He stood by, nursing his glass of water.

Cara, aware that the Prince was obviously upset, wasn't going to back down. It was a trait in all First Speakers, a strong will. Ormsby, Oliver, Ngyuen, Gibbson, and all others, had never backed down from any challenge. They had gone to war numerous times over a comment made by a First Speaker, but it was nothing that the Imitorans minded.

"Now then, again, I'm sorry if the loss of your father has turned you against us. But you must realize that many more have died, and many more will die, in service of Imitora. Your father is just one of many. If he was involved in operations that deemed secrecy, disavowment at failure or capture, or any other side information, then he took such mission on his own accord, and was well aware of the situation he was getting himself into. All operations that are of a highly covert nature, be them diplomatic or military, are often kept as non issues at failure."

Irving overheard this, and added a sad nod. There were many men he had led at one point or another now dead whose death was marked by a simple gravestone. However, it didn't bother him of their eventual fate. When one took oath to serve in IMSOCOM, or one of the intell agencies, one knew the risks they were accepting. They were all honored in thier own way.

However, this acceptance of her words did not stop Cara. She allowed a slightl pause, but before the Prince could respond to her last statement, she delivered one last set of words.

"And if you think your title, your birth right granted through winning the gene pool, is going to change the policies of how we handle such information, then you are sadly mistaken."

Lauralin began moving toward Aeris, Boris and Zhao.

'Perhaps you should see to the President', she sent to her father mentally as he rose to follow her. He turned, found Anita and moved closer to her. He was sure what to make of the woman, so he stayed nearby, looking at the artworks and decor himself, moving as she moved.

Once Lauralin closed the distance to a conversational level she flashed at smile at them. "I must admit that our own vampire situation seems not to have been nearly as bad as your own, but we do have our uprisings", she stated in her beautiful musical voice. "Were it not for certain allegiences I am sure the problem would be worse. As it is now, we've not had an upsrising in some time."

She looked at Aeris, "I would much prefer to know thier stances on such things so that potential difficulties might be addressed up front. Though often the political arena does not allow for it, I do prefer honesty."

She went back to addressing all three, "I did not, exactly, become a vampire by choice, nor do I hunt the innocent. It might also interest you to know that my father", and she gestured toward Turquine, "is a Holy Knight. My mother, deceased before I got to know her, was a Priestess. Not to mention that two of my senior staff at home are also Holy Knights. There is an anti-paladin in my staff as well and my advisor is also a vampiress. My head of security for my mansion at home is a half-orc who had been a slave and then fought for an enemy. My head city defense is a barbarian.

I gather those who would be of greatest benefit to me. They serve willingly, none are forced. And they offer skills that are varied. I do what I must to help my people and others opinions be damned. They can like or dislike me or my choices as they wish, but as long as my people are happy and safe then that is all that matters.

Oh ... and I am told that I am rather forth right in my opinions", she finished, smiling.

One thing you will eventually learn if you ever do become a leader is that you need to trust those around you. I give my agencies enough leway to allow them to act in the best interest of the nation with out wading through red tape or worrying about acting in a politically correct manner.

Shalamar glided soundlessly up behind Cara and waited until the woman finished her speech to Robert Ryan. That comment would come back to haunt Cara in just a few more moments.

"And if you think your title, your birth right granted through winning the gene pool, is going to change the policies of how we handle such information, then you are sadly mistaken."

Oh, Madam, I certainly don't think that at all." Rob Ryan replied with noticiable cynicism.

"However Madam First Speaker, you might not want to be so trusting of your people, especially when their actions might well get war declared against your nation. It's generally considered the sitting administrations fault when their underlings get them embroiled in assassinations of other nations leaders, backing coupes in supposedly friendly nations and murder of one's own citizens." Shalamar's voice was cool, she was far more experienced in handling women of Cara's sort than Rob Ryan was. His mother had raised him to be polite.

Aeris nodded briefly to Boris, acknowledging his expected support for Tarlachia's reconstruction efforts. However, before Zhao could speak anything as well, Aeris heard another voice speak up, preceded by soft footsteps. She listened as Lauralin addressed their conversation, and chuckled as she heard Lauralin's last words.

"Blunt, indeed!" Aeris returned the smile, then introduced Boris and Zhao to the vampiress. Once that was finished, Aeris returned to the conversation.

"I too have a habit of being up-front, although at times when situations require, I will tread softly. Sometimes, soft words can unravel a tense situation better than harsh words." She took another sip from the goblet before continuing.

"Although vampires helped to destroy my country, I know that those ones were of bad company. I am well aware of other vampires that are...more lenient on society around them." The hand holding the goblet indicated toward Lauralin, "Like yourself."

She looked to Boris, "As for your elven scenario you mentioned earlier, I'd only have a problem with you if you decided to eradicate all the elves, guilty or not. It is not like the single bad apple in a barrel of good apples scenario. One does not make the rest go bad."

The hour was a bit advanced when Bente finally arrived. She had fallen asleep on her comfortable bed, and somehow no one had seen fit to awaken her. But that was done, there was nothing anyone could do about it.

Upon arrival at the Palace duNuit, she stepped out of the same car she had gone to her place of residence on this isle in. She quickly made her way to the entrance, her boots making sharp but soft thuds on the paving stones. Though her promptness might be criticized, her appearance hopefully would not. She wore the sleeveless deep blue gown she had picked out earlier. About the tattoos on each shoulder it exposed, she was completely unapologetic. The practice was normal and common in her country, and all members of the royal family at least had the Pendrunsk family emblem scribed in their skin.

Hopefully, security would not demand that she take the axe from her belt. Perhaps it was old fashioned, mayhap Callisdrunians were barbarians, but Bente would travel to Nifleheim before compromising her people's traditions for some officious guard. With luck, that would not be the case, however. Well, that's that, I suppose she thought, stepping into the gathering.

Michiko wouldn't have dreamed of interfering with the on-going...discussion betwen Tanaara and Imitora. She didn't have that high of an opinion of that nations government anyway. And Shalamar could handle Cara. Better a huge embarrasement now than a war not so far in the future, especially since the Tanaran Empire would come to the aid of their daughter nation.

However she knew that Mercy had too much common sense, and too much concern for her people and others to start a war over what Imitora had done, no matter how much what had been revealed hurt her personally. Mercy was a good ruler, and perhaps a better friend than the Imitoran's deserved. But then again from what she understood of the Imitoran's, perhaps a bloody war caused by a government that didn't hold it's people responsible for their actions might said government revamped. Some times revolutions were good things.

But this wasn't her world, and she would keep her thoughts to herself. Until asked directly.

She noticed a new arrival, a young lady in a deep blue gown, the sleeveless style showing off tatoos on each shoulder. Michiko's moved toward her, she looked slightly anxious, though about what Michiko wasn't sure. A moments thought brought up who the young lady was. Her Royal Highness Bente of Callisdrun.

"Princess Bente, I am the Ambassador from the Tanaran Empier to Fatal Terrain. Unfortuantely Her Majesty Mercedez can not be here tonight. There has been a death among those closest to her and her family, so she asked me to step in. Please come let me introduce you to the others."

The ride had given Samantha the time she needed to collect herself and get in a good enough mood to make the evening tolerable, if not maybe enjoyable. With the foot man opening the door for the empress, she set one foot out, slid her hair out of her eyes, and pulled herself of the vehicle and into the waiting hand of the foot man. She had seen a woman in a blue gown striding in before her, and chuckled satisfactorly to know that she was not the only one who was taking their sweet time in arriving to the event. She took one long deep breath in before striding into the grand Palace de Nuit. Entering through the corridor, it was only by the purest of luck that she was able to hear some commotion coming from the room on the left, and was able to figure out that was were the reception was behing held. One final swipe of the hair, and then she entered and was immediately baffled at the wide variety of races assembled.

Then again, I shouldn't be too surprised, it is a gathering of the regions heads of states. Best be on my best behavior, and just enjoy the company for now.

Giving a smile as she entered, she made a slow stride to where an elven looking woman, another woman, and a man were engrossed in conversation, passing by two others on her way to the group. She just managed to hear the last bit of the conversation, and it seemed as though they were in some sort of debate over elves and vampires, but she dared not to make assumptions. Taking a glass of white wine, she merely took a sip, and prepared herself for an eventful evening.

Zhao looked at Aeris when she suddenly appeared next to her and Boris. She thought it a little rude that she would interupt the conversation, she really couldn't say much. The Simatarian President gave a bit of a surprised look as Aeris reached behind her and grabbed a goblet without looking, but then again, she was not human and so it was understandable she could do this.

Zhao arched and eyebrow as the Assington President mentioned elves in his country killing people wandering around in the forest. This was news to her and the reaction from Aeris was expected.

Before she could speak about the Simatarian aid to the Tarlachian rebuilding effort, she was distracted by another woman who joined the conversation. As she spoke, Zhao listened intently as she rambled off apparently several species and or ranks she had never heard off, but she was even more surprised that this woman was a vampire.

"Well, our views on vampires are very simple." Zhao said. "If you come to our nation with the notion of disturbing the peace and doing harm, we'll smash you right into the ground. And if you run, we'll hunt you down. We are still hunting for the Golden Simatar's first vampire...he's been number one of our most wanted for years. Our first big thing with vampires was about three years before the Tarlachian Demonic Wars when several hundred vampires attacked our capital, brought in a whole armored division along with numerous regular army troops to eradicate them. We really haven't had any vampires come to our country with anything but feeding upon the innocent...so I can't really say what we would do if we did."


Lussier shivered at the thought of teleportation. It seemed overly dangerous to him. You might be on the ground in one piece and when you pop out someplace else, you're missing half your body and organs. The Golden Simatar had always viewed space as a neutral place where battles and wars shouldn't be fought, but its view wasn't shared by many.

Lussier looked up from Peter and saw a very striking woman walk into the room wearing a deep blue gown. He was curious as to the tattoos on her arms, but his eyes were instantly drawn to the axe at her belt.

He spoke in a hushed tone to Peter. "Good Lord, that woman has a bloody axe with her..."

However Madam First Speaker, you might not want to be so trusting of your people, especially when their actions might well get war declared against your nation. It's generally considered the sitting administrations fault when their underlings get them embroiled in assassinations of other nations leaders, backing coupes in supposedly friendly nations and murder of one's own citizens.

"I'm sure, after all, as the First Speaker of Imitora, you must know so much about our government and customs and culture," Cara countered. She had been tempted to push the bitch persona a bit more, and add oh wait, thats right, you aren't and don't, but left the comment as it was.

Irving remained stoic, ready to move at any moment should he need to. This wouldn't be the first time an Imitoran First Speaker had caused an international incident at a conference. It had happened much before, and Irving felt it would continue to happen again. Imitoran's had some what of a problem of caring little of what others thought about their nation, and had no problem speaking thier minds when it came down to it.

"Listen," Cara started, unappologetically, "I'm sorry that some sort of perverse hero worship of one or two people has unfortunately claimed your opinion of Imitora. But please, before you protest the death of one person who knew what he was getting into, remeber that millions of other Imitorans have died in service, and there has been no complaint, no question, no outcry from their families and friends over their death. If you two have any formal complaint, then there is a process of making such. However, the fact remains, what you have is nothing more than speculation of a conspiracy steming from feelings of wrong doing. And attempting to have me question my staff or administration over baseless claims with no root in logic or fact is honestly quite disturbing."

*Shal, before responding, please contact me on MSNM, I have some info that may proove pertinent in your next post

However, the fact remains, what you have is nothing more than speculation of a conspiracy steming from feelings of wrong doing. And attempting to have me question my staff or administration over baseless claims with no root in logic or fact is honestly quite disturbing."

"Oh I have plenty of fact." A soft, sure voice stated gently as a tall woman - Queen Mercedez stood just below six foot when in two inch heels - joined the group. She had moved briskly but unhurriedly and had not let her arrival be announced.

The somber shantung silk cocktail length dress she wore was so perfect on her that one knew without a doubt that it fell into the catagory of 'if one has to ask'. It showcased her figure perfectly, announcing her feminity in a whisper that one could not but heed. Her brilliant golden hair fell in a silken wave down to below her shoulders, and her make up was understated, letting her features speak for themselves. She carried herself regally like the monarch she had become.

The only jewelry she wore were two small pins and one ring. One broach was her monarchal signet, worn when she chose not to wear a crown of any sort and worm on the right shoulder. The the other was crest shaped broach worm over the left side of the heart, and was of blackened titanium, set with 'life diamonds'. Some of the 'life diamonds' were Indigo in hue, and others Canary, save for the solo stone in the center, of deepest blood red. There were more of the blue than of the yellow. Blue for those she had lost, yellow for enemies slain directly, and the blood red announcing a Life Debt. The broach matched the ring she wore on the forefinger of her right hand.

"No, Lady Shalamar, I thank you for your information, which just reconfirms that which I had already recieved. I can answer the First Speakers comments." She put a gentle hand on Shalamar's shoulder forestalling any more words from the Lady of Cats Keep.

She moved over to the Imitoran First Speaker, as Rob Ryan and Shalamar both stepped back. She slid her arm into Cara's and as they walked she spoke in a low conversational tone, her words carrying not beyond the two of them.

"I have sworn depositions from still living witnesses, I have files from the ICIA own computers, from the personal computers of David DeMonthams, your Director of Intelligence. I have proof that your military, or maybe it was an intellegence operation used an EMP weapon on one of yur own citizens. That one of your agencies have sent assassins into Tanaara to try and silence the witness, after your Mister DeMonthams was told quite firmly by the Tanaaran government not to do any such thing."

I have sworn depositions from still living witnesses, I have files from the ICIA own computers, from the personal computers of David DeMonthams, your Director of Intelligence. I have proof that your military, or maybe it was an intellegence operation used an EMP weapon on one of yur own citizens. That one of your agencies have sent assassins into Tanaara to try and silence the witness, after your Mister DeMonthams was told quite firmly by the Tanaaran government not to do any such thing.

Cara simply scoffed.

"Your highness," she responded with mock respect, "I'm quite positive that I have no idea what your talking about, and that you may need a serious overhaul of your intelligence agencies, and bring them up to speed on current affairs."

Iriving followed the two, not to far, but neither to close. He was near enough to move if he had to, but far enough to give the First Speaker her privacy. It was one of the requirements of the job: he wasn't to get to close, to allow private conversations to take place. However, to get to far would put Cara at risk, and he couldn't allow that, either.

"First, if you are speaking on this Darren Winston affair, then I would recomend you take a close look on the files that I authorized my CSA to provide you. He has a history of mental instability, numerous poor psych evaluations, and a number of administrative reports that show a lack of enthusiasm in his work and a possible connections to anarchy groups. And even if you do have information from DeMontham's computer, I would like to see under what legal pretense within Imitoran law such information was obtained. Which Federal Judge did you get a warrent from?"

Cara paused for a moment, checking back on Irving, who followed closely. "Further, if a weapon was used by our government against one of our citizens, then please, tell me, what business is it of yours? Do you have jurisdiction over our nation? Do you decide how we as a nation handle our internal affairs? If so, please, again, inform me of what right you have, so that I can exercise the same over your nation."

"As I stated earlier, as a First Speaker, I have allowed certain members of my administration a level of freedom to operate without pointless oversight that will do nothing but delay the process of intelligence gathering and put the safety of my nation at risk."

Cara paused her walk, yet held the arm lock. "Now, I have authorized in the past week a number of training scenarios in numerous nations for recent recruits into a number of programs. The training operation is a simple Counter Intelligence exercise, a sort of final exam for the recruits. To combine the skills they have learned up to this point. We authorize the exercise to take place in other nations in order to remove the familiarity of an exercise here in Imitora. It requires them to think faster on their feet."

Cara looked Mercedez directly in the eyes, her own gaze unwavering. "Further, should DeMonthams really be involved in sending an operation force into Tanaara, I question why you would have problems with this. Afterall, you are, by deduction, detaining one of our citizens, who is considered a criminal and on the FCI's top ten most wanted list. Instead of questioning him, you should have returned him to Imitoran custody by this point."

Lauralin turned to look toward the figure in question.

"She is indeed", Lauralin said simply, "excuse me."

She made her way over to the woman with the axe and smiled, curtseying carefully, so as not to spill her drink and stood up.

"Greetings. I am Lauralin Silverlief, of Dragonsreach. Might I ask of whom I have the honor of meeting at this fine affair?"

Instead of questioning him, you should have returned him to Imitoran custody by this point."

"You know lies and misdirection will get you no were in this Cara. You may not accept evidence gathered by psionic means, but that does not mean that it is non-extant, or invalid. I can promise you that there are many nations in the Fatal Terrain Region who accept and use psionics on a daily basis. However I have far more compelling evidence than that."

"Point one. " Mercy took her reply in the order in which Cara had brought them up "The information you have on Darren Winston. I think you might ask who created this information. And how true and factual is it. You wont' believe this but the people who have met him, and yes some are highly respected professionals, say that he is intellegent, sane, not disaffected, not inclined towards violence. He felt so strongly about what he found that he knew the only way to bring what was done in Imitora's name to light was to bring it to the people that were hurt by said actions."

"Cara, you aren't stupid, I know that, and I know well how much delegation
and trusting one has to do to run a nation. But your people are pulling the wool over your eyes, and doing things in your name, in your nation's name, that will make you and your nation look very shabby, if not out and out criminal."

Mercy shook her head, exasperated at the younger woman's willfull stupidity. "Think a minute. How long would Darren lived if he'd tried to get the information to you? He'd never have made it any where near you and the information would have vanished forever."

"And as for wether I spoke to a Imitoran Federal Judge. Oh come on! It was a gift to me and my nation. No Tanaaran agent had any part in it's aquisition untill it and he reached Tanaaran soil."

Mercy did not opposed Cara halting their slow stroll, turning to face the Imitoran First Speaker "And concerning the "graduation exercises" You authoirized. It is generally not accceptable to send governements agents into another country to enact exercises, even of a training nature, without permission from the government of the country you've sent them into. It's generally considered not only bad form, but can be used as gounds for breaking off of diplomatic relations - acts of espinage generally are violations of national soverginity and security, and some would consider it an act of war, or cause for war to be declared. I think you'd feel the same way if I were sending agents to operate within Imitora."

"As for you murdering your own citizens, no, it is none of Tanaara's business, save that it speaks very poorly for your nation. And it has the effect of making my country question wether we wish to be associated with such a nation. Groups such as Amnesty International tend to get rather...excited... over such actions, as it is a rather blunt human rights violation. And one has to wonder how your own citizens feel about their government murdering them.

"And as far as detaining a Imitoran citizen? No he came to us. He can go where he pleases and if we chose to give him sanctuary that, as you so tend to put things, is OUR business, not yours."

Mercedez voice was cold. "So do you want to see the truth, or go on being blind?"

Giving a smile as she entered, she made a slow stride to where an elven looking woman, another woman, and a man were engrossed in conversation, passing by two others on her way to the group. She just managed to hear the last bit of the conversation, and it seemed as though they were in some sort of debate over elves and vampires, but she dared not to make assumptions. Taking a glass of white wine, she merely took a sip, and prepared herself for an eventful evening.

Yet another set of quiet footsteps was heard before they fell silent several feet away from where Aeris and the other two stood. She heard a Simatarian mutter under his breath "Good Lord, that woman has a bloody axe with her..." She turned discreetly enough to follow the man's gaze and looked upon the woman dressed in a blue gown, with tattoos revealed, and oddly enough, an axe at her side. Odd choice of ensemble. she thought to herself. The woman did not appear to be threatening however, and her body language indicated the same.

Looking finally to the one whom had approached earlier, Aeris rested her eyes upon Samantha, smelling a distinct draconian scent to her. She smiled at this and nodded politely, "Dragon-rider, I see." she commented with an appreciative look. Her hand held out a moment later, "Aeris Greenwood, Empress of Tarlachia."

from a previous post:["Princess Bente, I am the Ambassador from the Tanaran Empire to Fatal Terrain. Unfortunately Her Majesty Mercedez can not be here tonight. There has been a death among those closest to her and her family, so she asked me to step in. Please come let me introduce you to the others."

Before Princess Bente could reply to Michiko's greeting, Michiko became aware of Mercedez's arrival. "My apologies, Her Majesty has indeed arrived..." She looked over at where the queen of Tanaara and the First Speaker of Imitora were in soft voiced but intense conversation. "I am sure she will be over to greet you herself soon."

"Greetings. I am Lauralin Silverlief, of Dragonsreach. Might I ask of whom I have the honor of meeting at this fine affair?"

Michiko turned and smiled at the Queen of Dragonsreach as she approached and introduced herself to Princess Bente

Boris nodded at Lauralin's comment about being forthright. For years he'd been surrounded by politicians that loved to play underhanded tactics and never say what they truly meant, it was a relief to be around upfront and blunt people.

"I wouldn't have it any other way. It's a pleasure to meet you, I'm President Boris Ledpidius of Assington, although I don't mind if you bypass the title and simply call me Boris."

As for your elven scenario you mentioned earlier, I'd only have a problem with you if you decided to eradicate all the elves, guilty or not. It is not like the single bad apple in a barrel of good apples scenario. One does not make the rest go bad."

Boris offered Aeris a brief smile

"Of course, I'm not really one for mass slaughter or genocide. I'm just not a fan of having my people skewered and those within the forest don't seem to want to talk about it."

Peter calmly turned around to take note of the woman bearing an axe. He wasn't all that startled, considering almost every seconds person within the hall was likely to be part of a security detail and thus probably packing weapons for more troublesome than an axe.

"So she is... and I thought they'd gone out of fashion."

It appeared Lauralin had also noticed the axe woman and moved off to investigate, thus Boris turned his attention to the woman that had approached Aeris.

"Dragon-rider, I see." she commented with an appreciative look. Her hand held out a moment later, "Aeris Greenwood, Empress of Tarlachia."

A quaint smile lit her face as Aeris graced her company. This Aeris must have quite accute sence of smell, to pick up the faint smell of dragon that her long ride had undoubtly bestowed upon her she commented to herself after the woman's comments. Taking Aeris' outstreched hand in her own, she spoke very proudly of her origins. "Samantha Grey, guardian angel and Empress of Blue Anthem Project. Pleasure to have made your aquaintance Empress Aeris." She took a step back and stood tall and proud as she flashed her folded wings. The light blue robes complimented her pure white wings nicely. She expected that Aeris and the others were about to question her about how a guardian angel was a head of state as well. That always was the first question anyone asked when they met her and exchanged names and titles.

Aeris looked upon the woman's wings for a moment. In that moment, her eyes shifted colors subtly, and momentarily studied the woman's aura. It was calm, relaxed, though a slight tension was noticeable at its core. Likely from the location, she surmised. Switching back in a millisecond, Aeris smiled. If only Samantha knew. She however, did not think that such display of power was necessary at this time.

God knows there's more than enough of it as it is. she mused momentarily. In response to Samantha's introduction, she replied simply, "And it is my pleasure to have finally met you as well."

"Tell me, are dragon clans in your nation a common sight, or are they on the fringes of society like they are in Tarlachia?"

Rob Ryan knew that his mother would handle the Imitoran situation, though it grated on him that the Imitoran First Speaker was so quick to assume that he and others were lieing. He had no reason to lie and nothing to be gained by simeply alienating the Imitorans. Perhaps the governemnt is less trustworthy in Imitora. Roby Ryan thought to himself after looking over at where his mother and Cara stood. Then he turned away, letting his frustration and grief subside. His Ahrree deserved better than for him to taint his grief for her with anger at unworthy others.

The Tanaaran Crown Prince noticed that others had arrived, and mindfull of his obligations as his mothers son, moved to Aeris's side to introduce himself, nodding to the lady that Michiko was speaking to as he passed. He'd introduce himelf to the axe carrying lady in dark blue robes in a moment.

Noticing that the Angel whom Aeris had approached had spread her wings the better to dispaly them he nodded appreciatively. His only methods of flying were by aerospace vehicles, or upon the Tanaaran orbital habitat flying in microgee with 'Heinlein Wings'. Rob Roy let his admiration for the spectacular wings and the lovely lady who bore them show in his face as he slipped his arm through Aeris's and politely waited for a opening to introduce himself.

A long drawn out depressing sigh replaced the bright smile that had been upon Samantha's face at the mention of the dragon clans. Despite her love for the creatures, there were far too many people who thought them nuisances or hunted them down for the illegal bounties that were placed upon their head.

"I'm afraid the clans are indeed on the fringes. The species that I rode on are amongst the hardest to find. Of the dwindling dragon population, the white mounts are only among three percent of those. They have been hunted down by poachers to near extinction. It was only by chance that I was able to come across my companion. I was hiking through the hills and came upon the egg, apparently abandoned by its' mother or a lost treasure of the poachers. It's sad to say despite the laws against the hunting of the creatures there is still a large niche in my country who love to engage in the activity. I would try to crack down more on it, but with the other troubles my nation has on a daily basis, it slides down the priorities, as sad as that is to admit. Dragons are the purest and noblest creatures in my opinion. If you befriend one, they are your companions for life. And unlike the other sentient life, they are loyal to you until death as long as your actions are right in their sense of honor. Is it the same with the dragon kin in your nation?" Samantha remarked, studying the features of Aeris and the others. Aeris seemed a bit intrigued at the display she had graced her company. She wanted to know what might the lady was searching for, but she dared not upset the mood, and slid the question to the back of her mind for now, making a note to try and discern its' meaning later in the visit.

A small grin brought out a gleam in her purple eyes as a handsome young man had walked over to Aeris' side. She could tell by the way he had made his way over that the young man was likely royality. A hint in his eyes also tipped her off that he had also taking into admiring her wings.

Such silly people. It was if they have never seen an angel before. I'm not all that spectacular. Well, the point of this evening to meet, greet, and enjoy. Perhaps this might just be that oppurtunity.

'I am sorry to hear that you are having such a problem with poaching, mi'lady. Please let me introduce myself. I am Robert Ryan Fortier - Hexx of Tanaara, and I am very pleased to meet you, your pictture in the dossier does not do you justice Queen Samantha." Rob Ryan bowed gallantly then gave Aeris a small conspiriatorial grin.

"In Tanaara the hunting of intellegent species, unless an individual has gone rogue, is forbidden, and if criminals are crossing into Tanaara to avoid your law enforcement agents, you have but to let us know and they will be apprehended. We don't want such in our country any more than you want such in yours."

He smiled "The dragons who live among us may be relatively reclusive, but they wouldn't tollerate being hunted for sport or bounties. It's nothing more than deliberate murder."

Aeris listened as Samantha told the history of the draconians in BAP. A concerned look crossed her face as he heard of the woes they faced constantly. "Dragons are not hunted in Tarlachia, for they are considered a part of our society, capable of sentient thought, and thusly to kill one is murder. Not that it wouldn't have been murder otherwise, but you get the idea."

She thought a moment as she ever so slightly tightened her grip on Rob's arm, "I can deploy a few of my draconian friends to your nation to assist in defense against poachers if you wish. Some of our draconians are able to shift forms to a more human-like appearance, although they don't appear fully human. Dramen, they are called. Nevertheless of their appearance, they can help you improve your security around them."

Looking at Rob, she smiled warmly. "Nice to see you'd rather stick to less...threatening conversations." she noted, indicating she had heard parts of, if not all of the tense arguments between certain hostile parties.

"Nice to see you'd rather stick to less...threatening conversations."

His return smile was equally warm. "It does Melody no honor to stain my grief with anger at others." Rob Ryan spoke in a whisper. He'd taken her hand into his as she'd made her offer to the Monarch of the Blue Anthem Project. The generosity was so much like Aeris. "She would be the first to scold me for my actions tonight. Buit I am done with that."

He spoke up to both Aeris and Samantha. "Your Majesties, might I escort you to the buffet, or send for something refreshing to drink?"

"I appreciate the offer from the both of you, and I'll consider it and let you know before I leave the conference." As an appreciative smile lights her cheeks, she peers deep into Rob's eyes, testing to see if her eyes still held the charm they had a decade ago. Ten years had it been since her love had fallen, ten years ago when her hair was jet black. Since then she had not even considered trying to make friends outside her dragon companions. However, with people like Aeris' and Rob Ryan here, and the healing time had done, she was ready to toss away the title of being friendless. Perhaps even a deeper relationship could be found, or at least those type of feelings rekindled for the first time in a long time.

"I would be honored if you would fancy getting my a glass of ice water if it is not too much trouble. I picked up that wine earlier by mistake. I dearly hate all forms of alcohol and am severely parched."

"Your Majesties, might I escort you to the buffet, or send for something refreshing to drink?"

Aeris gave a moment's thought before responding positively, "Actually, some food does sound rather appetizing at this time." She looked upon Samantha, briefly noting the lingering gaze she gave Rob. Her own eyes narrowed for the briefest of moments. You wouldn't dare...

Rob had inherited the full measure of his fathers roguish charm and his mothers subtler charisma. He'd not been spoiled or bullied as a child and was outgoing and naturally trusting, despite him well knowing that given his position that most of those he would meet would be trying to use him. However, he made friends easily and his intrinsic good nature made him pleasant company. Rob Ryan hadn't had any traditional type girlfriends though and was oblivious to the whatever else might be going on.

I dearly hate all forms of alcohol and am severely parched

"Actually, some food does sound rather appetizing at this time."

"Queen Samantha would you like any specific type of water? I know that they have every thing from plain bottled water, to glacier water, to various fizzy waters. Perhaps you should accompany Aeris and myself and chose for yourself. I'd hate to bring you back something you didn't fancy." He offered Samantha his free arm, while drawing Aeris closer so that she would be comfortable. He knew that he'd have to be careful to match his strides to theirs.

Smiling politely to others nearby as the three of them made their way to the foods and drinks. Aeris took a small plate, heaped some fruits on top and a small choice selection of Tarlachian treat, one that was guaranteed certain lively effects. It was an interesting effect, one that Aeris like to have when she felt nostalgic in formal situations like this.

Even though she had been trained well, she still preferred more casual settings, casual the the point of getting dirty amongst the peaceful settings of forests and rivers, thinking nothing of it.

"Here, Rob, try this." she offered, holding the treat out to him between her fingers. "Trust me, these are good!"

A momentary narrow gaze was flashed over to Samantha.

Samantha chuckled softly as though the answer should be obvious.

"Just regular bottled water would be fine thank you, and perhaps you would be kind enough to get me one of the peaches from BAP? They are especially delicious this year, as the gardener used some sort of magic to make them sweeter and larger. However, there have been reports of some side effects, but none have been confirmed."

A sly smiley masked the devious intentions behind her words, as she knew full well that the magic used on the peaches made the peach more of an aphrodisiac than anything, but there was no reason for her to spoil the surprise yet.

from a previous post:["Princess Bente, I am the Ambassador from the Tanaran Empire to Fatal Terrain. Unfortunately Her Majesty Mercedez can not be here tonight. There has been a death among those closest to her and her family, so she asked me to step in. Please come let me introduce you to the others."

Before Princess Bente could reply to Michiko's greeting, Michiko became aware of Mercedez's arrival. "My apologies, Her Majesty has indeed arrived..." She looked over at where the queen of Tanaara and the First Speaker of Imitora were in soft voiced but intense conversation. "I am sure she will be over to greet you herself soon."

"Greetings. I am Lauralin Silverlief, of Dragonsreach. Might I ask of whom I have the honor of meeting at this fine affair?"

Michiko turned and smiled at the Queen of Dragonsreach as she approached and introduced herself to Princess Bente

"Pleased to meet you," Bente said to Michiko (whose name she did not yet know. Her accent was strong and somewhat sing-song, though it was not hard to understand her speech. Her large eyes observed the other woman, perhaps sizing her up, or maybe just trying to form a mental imprint of her greeter for future reference.

She then turned to the second woman who had greeted her. "Bente Pendrunsk of Callisdrun," she said in response to Lauralin's question. Callisdrunian royalty rarely used their titles when introducing themselves unless they were actually the sitting monarch. It was seen as pretentious. "And the honor is mine, it would appear, since, if I understand it correctly, you are a reigning monarch."

Shalamar watched the interplay between the three with a small smile upon her lips. Rob Ryan might well be oblivious to the interchange between Aeris and Samantha, but then again he might not. Tanaara was a culture that embraced polyamory whole heartedly. Monogamy was Not the norm, nor was his mother's single parenthood.

Her inner circle - Mercy's Four Horsemen as they were some times called - Lord Kincannon stood as consort to Lady Khadri, Lord Shimada was married to Robyn, and all four were part of a Di'Catenas union she didn't even pretend to understand the complexities of and was considered even more binding than a marriage. Mercy was part of aspects of the Di'Catenas but not others. Only Tanaarans fully understood the relationship, and she suspected positively delighted in baffleing others with those quirks and complexities.

She knew that Rob Ryan had always expected for Melody to be his consort someday. They had grown up together, and there was barely four years age difference between them.

However Rob Ryan is oblivious she decided to herself as she watched him interract with both women. With a small laugh she turned away and headed back to the terrace where she had bee chatting with Vicountess Tailchaser.

"Trust me, these are good!"

Rob Ryan looked at the Tarlachian delicacy with hidden reserve. Meldoy had more than once ambushed him, gastronimically speaking, with those exact words. He was not especially adventurous where his palate was concerned, but he trusted Aeris completely. He lifted her hand and carefully bought the deep purple hued flower to his lips. The floral treat appeared to be related to a rose but he didn't knwo enough about Tarlacian flora to be certain. Cautious not to let any crumbs drop on to the etherial white gown the Empress wore hie took a bite of the fleshy petals.

As the flower all but dissolved on his tongue, a burst of clean tart lemon, with just a hint of sweet filled him mouth and his eyebrown went up. As it dissolved more the taste altered, becomeing complex, richly herbal with a barest hint of spices. Once he'd swallowed he hastened to assure Aeris that it was indeed very tasty. "Thank you for introducing this to me." He kissed the fingertips that had held the flower for him.

However, there have been reports of some side effects, but none have been confirmed."

Rob Ryan signalled for one of the staff to bring Queen Samantha the water she desired, as he loooked over the dishes laid out on the many tables, searching for the peaches she had requested. He was beginning to think that they had some how been over looked, when his dark blue eyes lit on a simple but elegant presentation of fresh peach slices, their rich honey rose hue garnished with dolops of snowy white whipped cream.

"Are theese the peaches to which you are refering your Majesty?"

Lauralin smiled. "Lady Pendrunsk, it is a pleasure", she said. "I beg forgiveness if I"ve interrupted your conversation?" she asked, "though to answer your question, according to my advisors, I am the reigning monarch, though I wonder sometimes." She smiled.

****

Tailchaser had remained outside, as was her preference, enjoying the food.

****

Turquine continued to follow the president as she moved from place to place, observing and listening.

Smiling at his appreciation of the treat, Aeris then eyed the peaches with hidden caution. Something about them wasn't right, but the arcane inhibitors on the island would not allow her to inspect them in such a manner. She glanced to Samantha momentarily, watching her subtle expressions, the one that lay beneath the one she displayed openly.

Hmm...

She looked back to the peaches, her mind reaching out in vain to discern what her gut told her was different about them. A slight frown, only milliseconds in existence flashed on her face before disappearing.

"Those actually look good." she commented with a polite smile, though somewhat forced. "I think I shall have some myself if they are indeed from your fair nation." she added, while turning her attention to Samantha. We'll find out soon enough why you seem to be favoring these peaches for more than just nutrition.

Rob Ryan nodded for the server to put a small portion on a delicate crystal plate and once the stirling silver desert fork had been added Rob Ryan handed it to Queen Samantha with a demi bow.

"May they be as delicious as you are lovely." He declared gallantly. Then he turned back and requested for another serving.

Looking at Aeris he offered her the second plate, smiling down at her and once again teasing her. "Your most gracious Imperial Majesty, I beg of you to partake of these " His dimples flashed "slices of tender succulent flesh. For most certainly they are fit for such gace as thine."

He'd always enjoyed bantering with Aeris on her frequent visits during hte war. He'd seen her so deeply worried and worn so many times, he'd always sought to make her smile and for at least a minute or two forget the harsh realities facing her. He'd grown up during hte war, it had lasted over half his life, and though little of the war had actively come to Tanaara, he'd seen what it had done to a nation that both his mother and 'Aunt' Michiko admired deeply.

Aeris chuckled, a slight blush coming to her cheeks as she accepted the plate and replied, "You tease. You should be careful. Might make me think you're actually interested in me." Her eyes searched his for a moment, then turned down to her plate to pick up a peach and take a bite.

She closed her eyes, focusing her attention on the sweet taste of the peach, and after several moments, she smiled as she swallowed the food. Looking to Samantha, she commented positively, "Why, these are absolutely wonderful! I think I'll have to set up a trade agreement with your nation."

She looked up at Rob, "These are really good. Try some." She held her plate up to him for his choice selection.

Might make me think you're actually interested in me."

Rob Ryan blinked at that, quickly hiding a stunned look and inner feelings of complete astonishment.

"These are really good. Try some."

He took the fork and used it to nip a slice of peach in half, then offered half of the slice to her. "Only if I may share with mi'lady."

As she leaned forward to take the bite of peach he leaned forward too and in a voice meant for her ears only "Aeris, it is I who should ask you if you are interested in some one you've seen head to toe mud, and offering you a mud pie. And not that much later all splotchy with chicken pox." He grinned and added "I caught unholy hell for slipping out of my sick room to see you that night. But I didn't mind, you looked so sad, and I was able to make you laugh."

Aeris merely looked at Rob with a raised eyebrow as she took another bite of the peach. To him, she spoke silently by mind-thought. Rob Ryan, I may be older than you in actual years, but honestly, you are no muddy-faced boy...even if you did ruin my gown by "offering" me that pie... A small smile crossed her lips as she shook her head.

A giggle escaped her lips, "You did look like a plucked chicken though..." Her hand shot up to her face, covering her laugh as best as she could while looking at him for a few moments and turning away. "Very plucked!"

Rob eased her hand aside, and used a finger to tilt her chin up, so that she looked him in the eyes. Then very slowly he leaned in and laid a gentle kiss up her lips. I shall have to make up for ruining that gown. You always looked so elegant, so regal, even after the mud.' his thoughts replied as the kiss lingered.

Without taking his eyes from hers he took the plate from her fingers and set it aside. Dance with me.

"If you will excuse us your Majesty" He bowed slightly to Queen Samantha, but never took his eyes off of Aeris.

Gently he enfolded Aeris's hands in his and led her away from the tables laden with delecacies. When they reached an unoccupied section of the hall, he swung her gently but firmly into his arms, as the musicians played louder, seeing that they had a couple to play for now.

The kiss, she had to be honest, surprised her, for it wasn't particularly something he did often. In fact, he had never done that with her before. However much it surprised her, it also pleased her, even challenged her in a way.

Bowing slightly in respect to Samantha, she locked eyes for a moment, silently smirking while not showing anything visibly. It didn't last long though for she was swept away to a vacant part of the room and spun about into Rob's arms.

Her arm swept along his fingers until hers met his, straightened in response, and felt them curling slightly around them. Her other hand moved to his shoulder, delicately holding on as he led her through the beginning motions of the quickstep.

Mercy had made sure that Rob Ryan had learned to dance, though in earlier years he had fought this to the bitter, but ultimately futile, end. Now he appreaciated those once much loathed lessons. He guided Aeris lightly though the steps, enjoying her inate gracefulness.

He whirled her though a turn, taking advantage of the move to draw her ever so slightly closer to him. Several bars of music later, Rob's hand on her lower back also urged her to cuddle in close as they glided across the floor.

"I think this is more comfortable, deon't you?" He whispered in Aeris's ear just before he took her into a dip. A wicked grin flshed his dimples as he proved his strength by making the move look easy. with no hitch or jerk, just a smooth flow of action.

Aeris looked and felt weightless.

The feeling of weightlessness, although momentary, was something that Aeris couldn't even truly capture in even her angelic form. A warm smile replied his question as he pulled her out of the dip and into the next few steps. Ooh...suave, and skilled... she thought tastefully to herself with a slight smile. The white fabrics of her dress swished about gracefully, as if it too danced of its own accord.

She felt her spine tingle from his touch, and instinctively arched her back, pushing her torso closer to his as he led her expertly. Her hand that had once been resting on his shoulder now curled lightly around and up his back. Another spin was completed without flaw, to which she now moved even closer to him, the hand now resting on his chest while her head lay beneath his chin. She breathed deeply to catch her breath, and also smell the cologne he wore.

Just then, the final notes of the song floated through the air. Somewhat reluctantly, she parted their embrace and with a smile, gave a bow to her partner. "You are an excellent lead, Rob Ryan. Thank you."

Rob didn't want the music to end, he felt so comfortable with Aeris nestled against him. It felt right, and was no dishonor to his Arhee, Meldoy would have approved. He didn't know when his and Aeris's relationship had begun to change, but tonight he could not ignore that it had. And Rob found himself glad that of that change.

He nuzzled her hair, taking a breath to draw in the scent of her and the barest hint of perfume that she wore. He could identify her own unique scent beneath the parfume and found it heady, intoxicating.

'Does it have to end my lady?' He asked silently as he claimed her lips for another gentle kiss. Deeper than the first one, but not demanding, allowing Aeris to choose when to end the kiss.

Aeris closed her eyes as he kissed her again. She listened to his question and upon opening her eyes, she nodded ever so slightly, replying likewise, For now, yes. Remember where we are, who we are.

Stepping back, she gave him a reassuring smile, "Thank you again, Rob Ryan. I look forward to another dance another time."

Oh I hate being Empress at times like this. she thought to herself as she forced herself to turn away and moving through a pair of french doors leading to an empty balcony. There, she lightly gripped the railing, looking upward to the stars in the night sky. If only I didn't have to worry about nearly seven and a half billion people... She sighed silently, If I had the luxury of caring for only one...

She knew she liked the Crown Prince, but she also knew she had her responsibilities as Empress, and like it or not, she had no choice but to make sure those responsibilities remained first and foremost. Everything else came second.

"Are theese the peaches to which you are refering your Majesty?"

Samantha took a moment to carefully examine the peaches. She was appalled that the hosts had placed unneeded whipped cream. The peaches themselves were sweet enough to leave anyone satisfied, they needed not any additional sweetner. Her smile, as brilliant as it was, was obviously fake, and she nodded to the Ryan.

As Aeris' and Rob Ryan both sampled her nations' delicasy and then moved onto the dance floor, she treated herself to two slices of peaches, after disposing of the cream. As she watched the couple glide magnificently across the floor, she couldn't help but think back to when David used to treat her like that. He would whisk her off her feet and make her melt into his arms as they moved in harmony across the floor and then the dance between their bodies later in the evening. She couldn't help but shed a few tears as the two performed, and she quickly turned away to keep herself from bursting into full blown tears

As she wiped the tears from her eyes, she couldn't help be feel the chill of being alone for soo long hit her all at once. She could feel a good cry coming on and look around fruitlessly for the restroom. Please, not now, not in front of everyone. Let me be strong until I leave, please not now. But her willpower was not enough, and the tears came flowed unhindered, her only blessing was that no one was looking at her for the time being...

Shalamar had stopped to watch the young couple dance, smiling softly, remembering how she and Corwin used to dance. Her eyes dimmed for a second then her chin went up and her eyes cleared.

Watching Aeris and Rob Ryan part, observing the set of the young angel elf's shoulders, and the Crown Princes suddenly awkward and stiff bow. wondered what had suddently gone wrong between the two. She watched as Rob Ryan turned away, his pace slow as he moved over to mingle with others, and Aeris retreated to one of the terraces.

If only I didn't have to worry about nearly seven and a half billion people... If I had the luxury of caring for only one...

'If you don't seize that so called 'luxury' with both hands what sort of exaqmple will you be to your people. If love isn't the basis for every thing civilizing I don't know what else is' Shalamars mind voice was crisply tart.

'Nothing comes before to you having what you need to make you a whole and happy person. How can one be true to others, be thoughtful of others with out being true to themselves, being thoughtful of themself, being whole and happy.' Shalamar continued with the experience of thousands of years of ruling behind her. Can't rule others unless you can rule yourself- and that means taking care of yourself, your emotional wants and needs, your fullfillment, your wishes - all with in reason, just like you'd do for those you rule.

Her parting shot was the sort of thing Michiko would have said. 'Ruling just cause you have some "self imposed" duty to do so is just going to make you a hollow woman. Duty is wonderful, but you can't ignore yourself'

~~~Elsewhere in the hall

Lauralin smiled. "Lady Pendrunsk, it is a pleasure", she said. "I beg forgiveness if I"ve interrupted your conversation?" she asked, "though to answer your question, according to my advisors, I am the reigning monarch, though I wonder sometimes." She smiled.


"Pleased to meet you,"

Michiko found her lilting accent most pleasant to listen to, and realized that she'd forgotten to give Princes Bente her name. "My apologies, my name is Michiko Jones. We're aren't standing on much in the way of formalities tonight. Would you care for something to drink, and Chef Song has prepared a wide variety of delicacies." Michiko drew the Callisdrunian's attention to the side tables laded with offerings.

Aeris turned as Shalamar's voice continued through her mind, speaking its wisdom. She finally spotted her off to the side, near shadows as she would have expected of her. Their eyes met and lingered just as Shalamar finished saying her piece. Aeris hung her head and shook it, I don't know. I mean, I want to explore everything he has to offer, but I'm afraid in doing so, I'll neglect my duties as empress.

She looked upward again, meeting eyes once more for a moment before she turned back to the night landscape. I can't fail my people...it simply cannot be risked...and as much as I hate it, perhaps its best that he and I just stay away from each other.

As she thought this, recent memory brought up Shalamar's warning of becoming hollow. Her mind suddenly left the present and embraced a vision of herself standing in a rebuilt grand hall in Turath, her gaze strong and confident, and yet, she sensed that inside she felt like she were dying, rotting from the inside out. Outwardly, she was stronger than ever before, and yet it was also her greatest weakness, and a weakness that threatened to cause her to implode on herself and destroy the last remnants of her soul in her despair.

A blink later, and she fell to a knee in shock, her hands still holding the stone railing as her hung head low. She was breathing heavily now, and tears slid unwittingly down her cheek and splashing on her gown draped around her knees.

I don't want that...I don't want to die and yet live a shell... She rose and pulled a chair from nearby closer and sat in it, still looking outward. Can I do it? Am I capable? Will I fail my duties?

Her mind sought Shalamar's once more. Did you ever struggle with this yourself? she asked quietly.

Did you ever struggle with this yourself?

Shalamar's mind voice was soft 'When Seanna left and dumped it all on me without one word of warning, oh I played the strong woman for over four centuries until the one I love nearly died, and I nearly lost a chance for joy such I had never known before or since. Self Sacrifice is generally a piss poor idea, especially when it's not necessary.'

She went over to Aeris and helped her stand and spoke aloud. "You are a strong person, capable of standing on your own two feet, and your people, your nation, is just like that. Oh, both of you are feeling more like Rocky Balboa than like a World Champion, but you both have what it takes. And the best thing you can do for you people is not to do too much for them. They need you, but they aren't children that you have to supervise every moment of every minute. Sit back and let them do the work, you just guide."

She sighed and laughed "Though doing that is harder than you might think. But you survived Michiko, you can survive watching your people do for themselves."

She returned to mind speech 'However if you are interested in Rob Ryan, you need to be aware that he is young, he has not been raised with monogamy as a standard or 'norm' and that he has much of his father in him. He is attracted to danger, to pushing himself and things to their limits. And he knows full well that to rule Tanaara, he has to earn that right. It will take work between the two of you, but it could be something wonderful between the two of you, something solid.'

With some of the others moving off to get some food, Boris wandered back towards his MoD, keeping an observant eye upon everything around him. Despite being in a relatively peaceful environment, Boris would forever be looking over his shoulder. There was no assurance that he'd crushed all his enemies within the Assingtonian political scene and he'd rather not catch a knife in the back.

"It appears some people have more than just diplomatic intentions."

Boris arched his head backwards slightly to indicate the dancing couple of Aeris and Rob Ryan. Peter merely nodded with a slight grin.

"Keep in mind not everyone is a married old man like yourself."

Boris couldn't help but chuckle, sometimes he'd rather give away this life as a leader and simply find a nice place to settle down with his wife and watch their two children worry about things. Unfortunately that wouldn't be happening any time soon, not until a suitable replacement turned up.

Excusing himself from Lussier's presence, Peter bridged the space between himself and Boris.

"How about something to eat?"

"Yeh, might as well."

With that said the pair moved over to the many tables decorated in foods from all over Fatal Terrain. Boris went straight for a plate of Assingtonian rum balls, not being particularly adventurous with his food whilst Peter took his time to look around, attempting to identify everything before he made a choice.

As his search continued Peter noticed a young woman beside him, tears rolling down her face. Obviously something had distressed her, yet he wasn't one to pry. Picking up a napkin, he offered to the the upset woman.

"Perhaps this may help? We wouldn't want everyone around to think my presence upset you that badly..."

Peter had no idea if his mild attempt at humour would be lost on deaf ears but he genuinely didn't like to see others so distraught and so he'd do what he could to help.

Lauralin moved back toward her father, sliding up beside him and watching Anita as she moved around the room.

'She continues to tap upon her bracelet', he told her in a low voice.

'Probably one of thier devices, for what intent I know not', she replied, glancing about.

'There is much that is odd here', he told her.

'One becomes accustomed to such things in time.'

********

Nancia continued to study the various pieces of art as Forister kept an eye on her. Her critique didn't end at the beauty of it but a detailed analysis of the structure itself, checking for flaws.

"My dear niece", Forister said, once he realized what she was doing. "Art is for appreciation, you don't need to go beyond that."

She smiled at him and nodded, "Just wondering about the materials here."

"Don't. Your not here for that, relax and enjoy yourself."

"I don't see you mingling", she told him.

"That is because I would rather rip out my fingernails than attend a diplomatic function", he replied.

********

Tailchaser, her black coat hiding her in the shadows of the balcony watched Aeris curiously. The woman seemed upset and Tail almost moved to her as she went down to her knees, but the woman, Shalamar, had come to her and assisted her. Obviously being attended to Tailchaser remained in her place.

Outside the palace walls, the air seemed to grow thicker, stagnant as if it had been sealed in a small container for centuries and any value it once had to living creatures had long since departed. Unless one was standing directly within this small patch of space they would not notice anything out of the ordinary. Of course, if they continued to linger upon this space that would soon change.

Lord Arithon stepped out of the abyss, as if he'd merely moved through a doorway and was now visible to all watching. In a sense this was true, this doorway just wasn't visible to those not of his demonic breed. Today Arithon had chosen to stand at a towering six feet eight inches, quite taller than his usual human form. His skin was quite dark, bordering on being of African blood and this covered a body bound in muscle, which of course was just for show as Arithon's real strength went beyond the condition of his physical shell.

Sporting his usual shoulder length straight hair and a crimson robe decorated in golden patterns of a demonic nature, Arithon casually strode towards the building that was obviously the centre of the night, where all the leaders and diplomats from various nations had gathered. No doubt there would be many that very irritated to see him, but he was never one to base his actions upon the feelings of others.

As he approached the vast building that was housing a gathering of leaders, Arithon found himself confronted by a young man, probably in charge of keeping track of which guests had arrived and such. Arithon wouldn't have been surprised if he was armed, of course that was little threat to him. Evidently the young man appeared somewhat nervous, if not from Arithon's sheer physical presence then the aura he tended to carry with him.

"Arithon."

Despite his unease, the young man was able to perform his duty and nodded his understanding.

"Yes, you're on the list Lord Arithon. Welcome."

Arithon raised an eyebrow, somewhat surprised. He figured there would have been measures put in place under the assumption he may turn up, but to expect him as an official guest was somewhat... odd.

"Thankyou."

Making no noises as he navigated the vast hallways of Palace du Nuit, Arithon had little trouble finding the room full of conversation and evidently the other leaders and diplomats. Stepping into the light of the room he immediately took in everything around him, the number of people, those that were not simply humans and those that were even familiar to him.

It promised to be an interesting evening.

Shalamar's head had whipped around the minute she sensed the energies of the Step, it was close to the form that she used but different and it took her but a second to recognise it. "Damn it to the Basilica! didn't think he be interested." The Lady of Cat's Keep muttered to herself as she stepped away from Aeris's side.

"Better collect yourself quick. Our least expected national leader has decided to put in an appearance. And no killing him ...killing whichever body he's wearing woudln't do a damn bit of good. 'Scuse me while I go run interfearance." She gave Aeris a speaking glance and strode into the reception hall, mentally reaching out and advising the Tanaran's of whom had just arrived.

"Mercy, Cara, quit your wrangling. Lord Arithon has arrived and he'd eat the two of you for breakfast. Don't give him the chance." Shalamar snapped firmly as she passed the two women.

Then she was reaching out for Queen Lauralin Silverleaf mentally. 'Lady keep your father advised, and under control. Lord Arithon has arrived and he is a Demon.'

Then with a brilliant smile - and every mental defence she had up- Shalamar stepped forward to greet Lord Arithon as he entered the reception hall and stood taking everything in.

"You are looking quite handsome tonight Lord Arithon. I didn't think that a regional conference would interest you. Let me introduce you the others here for the conference."

Allowing a thought to exit her shields, directed at the demon lord This is going to put a wolverine in the hen house. Her mental grin was wicked 'Arithon, it's been awhile, probably not long enough and while I'm fully aware that your goals and Abbadons were not the same, others here might not want to recognize that. Be careful, my lord demon' Her mental voice had gone from amused to deadly serious, though her smile and unruffled air never faltered as she looked up at the demon lord.

It had been an interesting evening, it was about to be more so, especially as Shalamar found herself oddly pleased that Arithon had shown up.

The moment Arithon came within range of Turquine's abilities to sense him he set down his plate turning in the general direction of Arithon's location. Lauralin had already sensed the arrival, her own power different from those of her father and was mentally preparing herself. That it wasn't Orcus, the demon Lord who's enmity both her father and she had earned, each from having desroyed his corporal form, her father over 100 years ago and she but 20 years ago, it was still the presence of a demon Lord and not to be taken lightly.

She was already begining to feel her father's power responding as the powerful Holy knight looked for the threat. His avatar powers were begining to stir and Lauralin stepped away, his presence becoming more uncomfortable to the vampiress and she found herself wishing she had full access to her own powers and wondered if the demon was as bound as she seemed to be. Or her father, for that matter, as his powers came from his god and not from magical forces.

Then she was reaching out for Queen Lauralin Silverleaf mentally. 'Lady keep your father advised, and under control. Lord Arithon has arrived and he is a Demon.'

Lauralin stepped back toward her father immediately and gently placed a hand on his arm, a touch that was almost painful to her by this point.

"Father, be at ease", she said.

"I sense.. ", he began.

"I know, I also. "Lord Arithon is a demon. Apparantly he is part of this comfrence, which means he is welcome to participate, as Shadowspawn would be were he here."

"And I am to tolerate his presence?", Turquine asked louder.

"Would you dishonor our Hosts with your actions?", she asked in the same loud tone, surprising him since she almost never raised her voice in anger.

Turquine looked around, shame written on his face. His powers began to slowly bank as he reached up to place a hand on her cheek. "You are right, Princess", he said, using his pet name for her, "I beg forgiveness."

"None is needed of me", she replied, keeping her hand lightly on his arm to help keep him calm as Arithon entered.

Robert Ryan had looked up from his dark musing as Shalamar strode brisky through the room, and others began to react as well. He didn't know at first what had caused the stir, but when she spoke the new arrivals name, his curiosity turned to shock.

He knew well who this Arithon was and had never even guessed that he might show up. "Of all the gall" Rob Ryan snarled under his breath, and he wheeled about looking for Aeris and Mercy. The Tanaaran Crown Prince had no intent of letting the co leader of the enemy forces from the recent war get anywhere near Aeris, or his mother, without them having all the protection he could provide.

He was already moving as his eyes searched the room, noteing where his mother stood, still engaged with the Imitoran First Speaker, who might also be a target of the demons spite. Then his eyes caught Aeriss' as she moved to enter the room from the terace, slowly trailing Shalamar. In but a few heartbeats he had reached her side and with a flourishing bow offered her his arm.

"You are looking quite handsome tonight Lord Arithon. I didn't think that a regional conference would interest you. Let me introduce you the others here for the conference."

Arithon couldn't help but flash an amused grin as he gauged the reactions of everyone around him, none of them particularly happy. Almost immediately he recognised Shalamar as she approached him. She was somewhat of a mystery. Arithon had never encountered a being of her nature before. It was obvious she possessed considerable power but she was neither demon nor angel, something else. It was a big universe of course but that didn't stop him from being particularly curious about the woman that had opposed him in the past.

"Shalamar, I'm always interested in the happenings of our fair region. It's nice to see Abaddon didn't do away with you, that would have been quite a shame."

'Arithon, it's been awhile, probably not long enough and while I'm fully aware that your goals and Abbadons were not the same, others here might not want to recognize that. Be careful, my lord demon'

Arithon maintained his pleasant exterior whilst replying in kind, his mental abilities unhindered.

"I'm sure more than a few guests at this little party are thrilled to see me, but I'm not here to kill any of you, there is nothing to worry about."

Arithon's tone was one of confidence to the point of being arrogant. He knew full well that if any attempted to kill him he could be back within minutes, he wasn't tied to this world like many of them were.

"Shalamar, I'm always interested in the happenings of our fair region. It's nice to see Abaddon didn't do away with you, that would have been quite a shame."

Shalamar laughed gaily. "Obviously I failed. Falied to be suffeciently annoying that is. Or perhaps I was better at defending myself than he expected." She shrugged and tucked her hand into his arm. "However it was, he's gone and I'm here."

She began to guide him towards Mercy and Cara while replying to his mental comment about not being here to kill any one. 'I didn't think you were. And it will be very good to see an entirely unique view point represented at the conference. I'm glad that I was able to remove that curse from you' She smiled at the near arrogance he projected 'Don't look but there is a Paladin in the room, and I do believe he has the ability to make things very unpleasant for you. I don't know which of you I'd place my bets on, particularly as his daughter is here as well and she is no push over in her own right.'

Aloud "Let me introduce you first to the hard working organizer and hostess of the conference, Her Majesty Mercedez Hexx of Tanaara."

Like Shalamar, Aeris had noted the presence of the demon lord Arithon as soon as he had entered the palace. Shalamar's words, although well-meaning, were unnecessary for she was already moving with guarded haste toward the dark lord. Shalamar took the initiative first, and to Aeris's surprise, it was civil and even sounding pleased.

Aeris, behind her fortified mental shields, mused on this with concern, suddenly unsure of what to think of Shalamar. She halted some distance away, only a short distance from Turquine, whom she sensed was gathering energies to his control despite the inhibitors. Inwardly, she cursed her failure to set up barriers for other sources of energy. Turquine drew from a holy source, and at the moment, she was both pleased, and not so pleased about this.

Without taking her eyes off the demon lord, Aeris sent a guarded message to Turquine, You draw power not constrained. If anything hostile occurs here of the demon's doing, you have my personal permission and approval to do everything you can to destroy him. I will assist as I can. She let her eyes narrow to the demon lord. I hate him and others like him...

Finally, she gave notice to the man standing next to her, his arm having swept her hand into the crook of his arm. Looking up, she met Rob Ryan's eyes and she made no attempt to hide the hatred and anger that was brewing rapidly within her toward the demon lord. Silently, she mouthed to him, I'll kill him if I must. Although she was momentarily inhibited in the arcane sense, she knew that Rob Ryan had at the least seen her, on video footage, in the midst of battle during the war. Her strength was strong, much stronger than one might assume of her somewhat petite form.

Her eyes returned quickly to watch Arithon's every move like a hawk its prey. Silently, her mind reached out slowly in a passive manner, locating whom was where, allies and neutrals alike. It would serve well to know where one's friends were.

Shalamar was well aware of Aeris's reaction and her thoughts reached out.

'Hatred without understanding is blind and foolish. There are a billion shades of gray, and you should not be surprized to learn that there are misconceptions and falsehoods ion both sides of the 'line'. He's not as evil as you think he is, and you are not as 'good' as you believe yourself to be.

Her mind voice gentled itself 'To counter him effectively, you must understand him, and you can not understand him with out knowing him.'

'e has honorably kept bargains in the past, can you say that he will not again?'

I know more than enough of him. she countered Shalamar with a bit of hostility in the tone of her mental voice. She continued to maintain the glower reserved for Arithon. And as far as I'm concerned, he's an enemy of the state. He gave assistance to Abaddon, and that makes him guilty by association. He will pay for that.

She shifted her eyes to Shalamar, whom had not looked at her even though her back had been facing Aeris. And I care not for his so called bargains. They are covers for deceitful lies, even if they've been "honorably kept."

Her gaze returned to Arithon while still speaking to Shalamar, He will get nothing from me. His hands are covered with the blood of my people, and we are a people that never forget such crimes.

The intensity of her gaze magnified a hundred-fold. Ever.

With that, her mind locked down completely, allowing none to enter or probe her. She was furious, and although externally she made every attempt to curtail such expressions, it was clear she was still disturbed by the demon lord's presence.

Turning to Rob Ryan, she whispered just loud enough for him to hear. "I've enough of this night. I'm leaving." Her tone was edged with suppressed fury.

Then to Turquine, she nodded to him, allowing her mind to open up long enough to send him a mental message, I'll not be far.

Finished, she stormed straight for Arithon, her anger in her eyes quite evident as she neared then shifted course slightly to pass him. However, as she passed, she growled aloud to him, "You have some damn nerve to show up here." Her angelic half rose to the surface of her hand as she reached out and slapped him hard across the face.

Her eyes remained furious, and she stormed out of the room. The silence she left behind bothered her not. Inwardly, she seriously wished to unleash her full strength against Arithon, but there were rules in place for a reason and even she was obliged to follow them. However, it didn't mean she wouldn't be allowed to express her thoughts on his presence as she wished.

It just so happened to be transmitted through the hand.

Mercy had shot Cara a speaking glance as Shalamar warned them to set aside their differences for the time being. That glance promised the Imitoran First Speaker that the discussion between them was only delayed, not forgotten.

It was hard to wrestle her already simmering anger under further control, but she managed as Shalamar and Arithon approached, and Shalamar introduced her to the demon.

"Let me introduce you first to the hard working organizer and hostess of the conference, Her Majesty Mercedez Hexx of Tanaara."

"Lord Arithon, Mercedez , Mercedez, Lord Arithon..." She added more in a language that Mercy, and most of the others in the room couldn't understand. Shalamar wondered if Arithon would be surprized that she spoke his native tongue.

Mercedez offered the demon lord her hand, unsure of the exact protocol of meeting a demon. 'Isn't it usually over the barrel of a really big gun?' she wondered with a mental laugh Well, Shalamar has promised that he'd behave, and he doesn't look that...appearances can be deciveing! She scolded herself.

She looked up at Arithon; Mercedez was a tall woman- and taller in the heels she wore- but he had all but a foot on her, and spoke honestly. "Lord Arithon, I'm not sure wether to be pleased to make your aquaintence or not. However those are merely my personal doubts. All points of view are welcome at the conference, for we all have to live together and what affects one in the ends affects us all.

He will get nothing from me. His hands are covered with the blood of my people, and we are a people that never forget such crimes.

'Tell that to the Tanaran Emperess. She's forgiven your people of her blood on their hands. Or does it matter that she managed to survive and was just one person.'Shalamar's mental voice answered immediately before Aeris sealed her thoughts away, but Shalamar was unsure if she heard, or bothered to consider her reply.

"I've enough of this night. I'm leaving."

Robert Ryan sighed heavily as Aeris stormed out of the room. He couldn't blame her, but he also knew that she might well need to temper her anger. He wasn't sure how, for he knew that his dislike of the demon lords presence was enough to turn his stomach.

Aeris passed Arithon, and slapped him, leaving a tsunami of shocked silence behind her. A glance at his mother and at an almost imperceptable nod her took off after Aeris.

Michiko closed her eyes for a second and shook her head. Then her lips moved silently and a subvocal message went out for the Empress's Hand.

Without taking her eyes off the demon lord, Aeris sent a guarded message to Turquine, You draw power not constrained. If anything hostile occurs here of the demon's doing, you have my personal permission and approval to do everything you can to destroy him. I will assist as I can. She let her eyes narrow to the demon lord. I hate him and others like him...

Turquine glanced first at his daughter, the only one present who had ever spoken to him through thought, then realized his mistake and found Aeirs. He gave a shallow bow to her and replied in thought, his speech pattern as ancient sounding as his daughter's, 'Fair Lady, should ill befall, know you that my life and all power I possess are at your disposal.' His message was brief, his own mental abilites severely limited compared to Lauralin's.

Then to Turquine, she nodded to him, allowing her mind to open up long enough to send him a mental message, I'll not be far.

'I shall keep you apprised of the situation, should it be required', he sent back. However, having permission to act had the effect of at least putting him more at ease. He was still wary, and prepared, but less tightly strung than before when he knew his hands had been, figuratively, tied.

Lauralin was unaware of the exchange. Though capable of reading most if not all the minds here, she considered it rude and would not do so unless they were a proven enemy, or was given permission. Though she believed in actions proving the person, she was still nervous. The demon wars of thier own region had not been so long ago and the Demon Lord of the undead, Orcus, was a mortal enemy.

********

Forister noticed the reaction to the entry of this new person and took Nancia's arm. 'Come with me', he whispered to her, and moved closer to the President. As Aeris walked past and slapped the man Forister's head jerked in sympathetic reaction, having no idea of thier history or even of who they were. 'Well', he muttered to them both, now that the President, Nancia and he stood together, 'looks like he really pissed off THAT young lady.'

********

Tailchaser had stood up and went to the doorway of the balcony, looking inside at Aeris. Something had been wrong with her and her curiosity had been peaked. As Arithon entered she looked him over from her position just outside the room. She didn't know who or what he was, but her senses told her that it was something wrong and unhealthy. The reactions of many in the room only served to support what her instinct told her. She padded quietly into the room, placed her plate, long since finished, onto a table and moved silently behind Turquine and Lauralin.

"Perhaps this may help? We wouldn't want everyone around to think my presence upset you that badly..."

Samantha chuckled mildly and graciously took the napkin and dried her eyes from the stream of tears. Once the tears had faded away she turned towards the man whom handed her the napkin. It turned out to be the man that she thought had been called Peter. She took a step over to the gentlemen and wrapped her arms tightly around him and whispered in his ear.

"Thank you soo much good sir. The last thing I needed was to show some weakness around all these heads of state that I'm supposed to be negotiating with. I'm indebted to you."

She gave him a peck on the cheek and then turned around to see where everyone was. Her eyes were immediately fixated on the new arrival, and her skin crawled at the presence of the demon. Not hiding her emotions at all, a death glare was clearly painted upon her face. How dare one of the foul kind make their presence at this conference. This night was quickly freefalling into what she thought it would and the exact reason why she didn't want to come in the first place.

"Obviously I failed. Failed to be sufficiently annoying that is. Or perhaps I was better at defending myself than he expected." She shrugged and tucked her hand into his arm. "However it was, he's gone and I'm here."

Arithon nodded, somewhat amused at Abaddon's mistakes.

"Indeed you are. I don't believe I've run into him since the war."

Allowing Shalamar to guide him, Arithon's large black eyes swept over the room, noting the distaste of many as he grew closer. The entire situation was quite hilarious in his opinion but he managed to keep a steady composure.

'I didn't think you were. And it will be very good to see an entirely unique view point represented at the conference. I'm glad that I was able to remove that curse from you'

Arithon couldn't help but mentally laugh at that comment, he doubted his opinion would weigh in on those that had nothing but malice for him, especially Tarlachians.

"Ha, I somehow doubt they're interested in what I think. Although perhaps they should be. And yes, I'm much obliged for that. Of course there were other means but there are some in this universe even I dare not anger."

'Don't look but there is a Paladin in the room, and I do believe he has the ability to make things very unpleasant for you. I don't know which of you I'd place my bets on, particularly as his daughter is here as well and she is no push over in her own right.'

Arithon's gaze turned to the Paladin, giving the man a cool stare that wasn't particularly hostile yet not friendly either. Distaste was evident in Arithon's mental communication.

"Unpleasant lot, those holy warriors. No matter though, I've yet to come across one that's stopped me so far and he is not the only one that can claim a god to his name, if necessary."

"Let me introduce you first to the hard working organizer and hostess of the conference, Her Majesty Mercedez Hexx of Tanaara."

Arithon offered his hand and a pleasant smile.

"A pleasure to meet you, Mercedez."

Despite popular belief, Arithon was more than capable of being charming and civil to those around him, even if he was a demon. Upon hearing Shalamar speak in his own demonic dialect, he turned to her with appreciation in his eyes.

"You get around, don't you? One is unlikely to pick up that language anywhere close by."

"Lord Arithon, I'm not sure whether to be pleased to make your acquaintance or not. However those are merely my personal doubts. All points of view are welcome at the conference, for we all have to live together and what affects one in the ends affects us all."

Arithon couldn't help but like Mercedez to a degree. She was honest, something he found rare in most lower beings and whilst he didn't hold honesty as an all important virtue, it usually made things simpler.

"You wouldn't be the first to regret meeting me, young lady, but I assure you that I shall cause no trouble at your conference."

At that point Arithon couldn't help but sense the concentrated fury focused upon him. Before turning around he could only assume it was a Tarlachian and this was soon confirmed as he coolly stared down Aeris. She was furious, anyone in the room could tell whilst Arithon remained quite calm.

Whilst not expecting to be slapped, Arithon didn't budge under the contact. It certainly did sting, more from the fact she was part angelic than the physical force, but he'd gone through far greater pains than such and was not particularly phased.

"I see the young ruler of Tarlachia still has something to learn about decorum."

Ignoring the fading sting, Arithon returned his attention to those around him.

"Thank you soo much good sir. The last thing I needed was to show some weakness around all these heads of state that I'm supposed to be negotiating with. I'm indebted to you."

Peter was pleased to see Samantha was feeling better and yet hadn't expected to be pounced upon. Returning the hug in an appropriate manner, he replied to her thanks.

"It's not a problem, sometimes the best of us have our moments. I hope you're feeling better."

Soon afterwards Peter's attention was drawn to the front of the room as silence reigned over the hall. He caught the back of Aeris storming out and everyone gazing upon a newcomer. He was a giant of a man and something about him gave Peter an uneasy feeling. It wasn't the fact that he looked like he could pound Peter into a cube, there was something about his sheer presence.

Boris had obviously noticed the man as well and approached his MoD.

"Any idea where that guy comes from?"

"You wouldn't be the first to regret meeting me, young lady, but I assure you that I shall cause no trouble at your conference."

Before Mercedez could thank him for that reassurance, Aeris had swept by and slapped Ariton soundly. A quick glance over to Robert Ryan and he followed her out. She also could not help but notice Michiko apparently summoning discrete reinforcements. Ready to be courteous to him as long as he was civil she was dismayed by the others open hostility.

"I won't, I can't, apologise for her actions. You were an invading enemy only a short time ago. And you are a demon, though to be honest I know little of demons." Mercedez sighed "Nor am I part angel, with their natural antipathy towards demons. I do thank you for not responding to her assault."

She half turned to the Imitoran First Speaker "Lord Arithon, please let me introduce the Imitoran First Speaker Cara Rydell. My apologies again Lord Arithon, I thhink what Shalamar said was either a proper title for you or part of your name. In any case I mean you no insult by not mangling the words in my ignorance."

Shalamar waited quietly. She'd have a chance to speak with Arithon at some length later, unless the others combined to drive him away. But some how, given his internal mirth, she doubted he'd allow such to happen. At least untill he was good and ready to go.

It had taken Rob Ryan some minutes to find the Empress, but she had left a trail. Not of bread crumbs, but of toppled chairs, a broken statue here, a door agape, and then there were the curses she was hurling into the night at volume. Fortuantely she was deep enough into the extensive gardens that he doubted that any one but he heard them.

A mimosa, it's soft fluffy pink and amber flowers blooming riotously, was the victim of her wrath, and it was sturdier than it appeared, though the gnarled trunk was shaking at each furious blow. Many of the feather like blooms were drifitng on the nights gentle breeze, shaken loose by Aeris's assault on the tree.

"Areis, Aeris, dear heart, the tree isn't that offensive." Rob Ryan caught Aeris's flailing fists. Turning her to him and pulling her close to him, so she could beat her fists against his chest if she so chose.

"Calm, calm, I know" He wanting to hold her until her fit of fury had passed, not even thinking she might hurt him.

"I won't, I can't, apologise for her actions. You were an invading enemy only a short time ago. And you are a demon, though to be honest I know little of demons."

"No need to apologise, Aeris is more than capable of being responsible for her own actions and I get the feeling that was a rather reserved one."

Embarrassment wasn't really an issue with Arithon. He could have launched Aeris across the room if he really wanted to but he didn't feel compelled to prove his strength, many of the surrounding people knew first hand what he was capable of. Offering his hand to the Imitoran, Arithon continued as if nothing had even happened.

"Good evening."

Turning back to Mercedez, Arithon shook his head with a brief smile to indicate it was no problem.

"Arithon is fine, I am the Lord of none within this room."

Rob Ryan's words were lost, yet his decision to turn her from the tree would be one he would live to regret. Whirling in her fury, Aeris let her fist tighten once more and solidly strike in the heart of the Prince's torso. The resounding oomph and the resulting collapse of his body after being thrust back a number of feet was enough to shock Aeris to cease her furious assault.

Breathing heavily, her eyes widened in shock as she took in the details. Flowers still fluttered downward on the slight breeze, some nestling atop Rob Ryan's body. She heard his anguished moan and shook her head in disbelief. "Oh...oh that's not good..." she said worriedly as she dove to his side and lifted his cheek to inspect his face. He was still breathing, but it was clear he was hurting, and none-too-lightly either.

"Oh Rob, I'm so sorry!" she rushed as she placed a hand on his chest and closed her eyes. Several moments passed before she opened her eyes again, cursing aloud. She was unable to summon her healing mana to her aid.

Looking up quickly, she glanced around for someone, anyone. "Hello!" she called out loudly, "Someone get a medic!"

She looked down again, picking up his head and holding it in her lap, her fingers caressing his face and hair. "I'm so sorry..." she whispered, the previous fury momentarily forgotten. "I'm so sorry..."

Looking up again, she called out with a louder voice, "Someone get a damn medic!"

She could have tried to carry him, but she was worried for internal injuries he might have sustained, and without her healing powers, she would also be unable to scan him as necessary. So, they remained where they were.

Robert Ryan was unconscious, the massive blow having momentarily paralysed his vargas nerve. However by the time Aeris knelt besidfe him the medical nanites had restarted gbreathing and heart beat.

Someone get a damn medic!"

"We're here, Lady Empress. Though your benighted devices do hamper us, some more than others." Adoni's deep voice sounded as her ten occassional personal bodyguards eased out of the nights darkness, surrounding the pair.

Thoth and Amasaratu dropped to their knees and both laid hands upon Robert Ryans body.

"His Highness's sternum is broken, as are several ribs on both sides, the peices of which have peirced both lungs, and the percardium." Thoth said dispassionately as his psionics gifts let him catalog the Princes injuries.

"He'll need major healing, either psionic or Empire level technology." Amasaratu added as sher exerted her gifts to keep Robert Ryan from going deeper into shock and to ease his pain. Identical pairs of dark amber eyes met, and they shook their heads simultaneously, long sooty black hair being absent mindedly being pushed back froim their faces. Though they were fraternal twins it was hard to tell them apart. Thoth and Amasaratu had the strongest psi gifts of any of the siblings/

"You need to go get Michiko and Queen Mercedez." Adoni helped Aeris to her feet. He looked down at his siblings and they shook their heads negatively "Fast" His deep voice commanded. "Shade, Shiva, Dar go with her. Watch Arithon, but do not aggravate him."

Aeris nodded somewhat, the news of Rob's injuries scaring her more than she would have liked to admit. She had whimpered slightly as the last of the injuries was reported.

No sooner had they instructed her to seek out Michiko and Mercedez was she gone, her feet pounding the pavement and floors of the palace. She swept past servants cleaning up her mess from her earlier flight, only to startle them once again, sending all the items crashing to the ground again.

Although she did not look at them, they exchanged shakes of their heads, remaining wisely silent.

Bursting through the doors into the main room where the conference was being held, she sought the faces with haste until she met the gaze of both Michiko and Mercedez. "There's been an accident..." she began, worry etched in her face. "He's hurt!"

She cared not for the dramatic entrance or the alarm that was sure to be raised. She just wanted to end this night with something good to come of it. Rob Ryan's health came at the top of that list.

Shade (http://www.atddm.com/shade.jpg) who looked fully human, blonde haired and emerald eyes, and Shiva and Dar (http://www.atddm.com/son1.jpg) -the twins true black skin gleaming like onxy, and their lambent fire green eyes that looked nothing like Shades -followed hard on Aeris's heels. They were intent on protecting her should Arithon try anything amiss. That they were half demon did not make them any sort of natural allies of his.

Shalamar spun around as Aeris, followed by some of Perigrine's children entered, worry flashing across her face. She knew that Perigrine would not have sent the siblings down without reason.

Michiko too went cold as she saw them follow Aeris into the hall, the Emperess clearly distraught.

Mercy felt a chill pass over her, thoughshe knew not why until Aeris caught her questioning gaze and cried out.

"There's been an accident...He's hurt!"

Mercedez knew at once exactly whom the Empress ment, and her face blanched. Not realizing it she stumbled forward, her eyes blazing with sudden anger "Where is he? What did you do to him?" She grabbed Aeris's arm tightly and shook the Tarlachian.

Michiko was already informing security who were in the process of trying to advise her that the Crown Princes medical alert had activated.

Dar and Shiva gently pried Mercedez and Aeris apart "Come with us your Majesty." Gently the two tall half demons, they both stood nearly as tall as Arithon - they were fully six foot seven, and were every bit as strong if not being as broadly muscular as the demon lord.

In but moments Aeris found herself left with Shade by her side, as Mercedez and Michiko disappeared from the room, escorted by the twins.

Shalamar raised an eyebrow at the Empress, her face gone stern, and she did not reach out to her mentally. She had already gained a summary of the events from Astarte. Her displeasure with Aeris was quietly evident.

Aeris met Shalamar's gaze for a moment, catching the displeasure. Instead of responding, she just shook her own head, raising her hand to dismiss the moment as she turned away to leave the room again. She looked at Shade, tears now stained her cheeks.

"I can't believe I did that...I have to see to him. I have to!"

In her mind, she kept replaying the dreadful moment over and over, trying to think of ways she could have avoided it. However, it was done and gone, the damage was dealt.

The rage that had been meant for Arithon, or better, Abaddon himself, had been unleashed with such fury upon the one man whom she suspected she was developing feelings for, deeper than the friendship they had shared for years.

"Shade...please, take me to him." she pleaded as she halted and lightly grasped his arm. Her eyes begged him, all sense of self-respect lost at this time.

In different circumstances Arithon would probably have taken great delight in Aeris' self inflicted predicament and no doubt voiced his opinion of the young woman. Instead he simply remained silent, watching her and the half-breeds as they escorted Mercedez out of the room.

Walking over to Shalamar, Arithon took a stance beside the woman, close enough so they could speak to eachother with relative ease.

"I'm impressed, who's idea was it to steal their DNA?"

Arithon knew quite a lot about cross-breeding as that's how many of his demons had come into existence today. They were the product of his demonic blood infused into the genetic makeup of creatures he'd come across from all over this realm of existence. Some experiments had failed, others had produced great success.

"Shade...please, take me to him."

Shade listened in for a second on the mind link that he and his siblings shared. "Ama has him stablized and they're going to put a psi stasis field around him then Stepp him directly to the Inner Lights main thoratic trauma section." He spoke of the Tanaran Empires massive hospital craft which was in geosync orbit above. "It's going to be a few before they'd let you into to see him. Let me take you home first and you get changed into something comfortable." He offered kindly. He and all of his siblings had taken wounds during the war, he knew well the anxiety that filled you when friends and closer were harmed.

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Jones."

Michiko's attention had been drawn away by Arithons arrival, and Aeris's furious response to his presence made her turn away from the conversation between Lauralin and Princess Bente. When Aeris had rushed back in, as Michiko offered some of the various delicacies to the Princess, she tendered her apologies and hurried to Mercy's side. She had Mercy had flown from the rooms as if they'd had wings.


"I'm impressed, who's idea was it to steal their DNA"

Shalamar moved closer to Arithon, to keep their conversation even more private. "The dark haired beauty who left with Mercedesz? You haven't been introduced to her yet, but she is the Tanaran Empires first Dowager Empress and currently the Empires Ambassadress to Fatal Terrain. Her chief henchwoman, a Neitzschean by the name of Perigrine Omega, obtained DNA samples from Abaddon, Lillit and their child. Her race is highly advance in genetic manipulation. Homo Invictus, Nietzscheans, are a created race, with Human DNA as their base. Believe in perfection of genetics, and 'succeed and survive' above all else. Very interesting culture."

Shalamar stopped herself "Getting off course there. She used her own DNA and fused in what she considered the best of the Demonic. Put ten embryo's in uterine replicators and six months later 'birthed' ten incredible children. Would you believe that they are less than twelve years old? Fully grown, physiologically wise, scarily intellegent. Three sets of twins and four singletons. They were quite effective against your's and Abaddon's forces. If the Imitoran team hadn't gotten into the Black Castle first, the siblings would have captured Abaddon, Lillit and their son, I well believe."

Aeris wanted to continue to press the issue, but she also was well aware that it would do no good. Shade would not do as requested until the time was right. With a shake of her head, she replied, "I honestly don't care about the clothing, but let's go anyway."

With that said, they were soon in the Tarlachian embassy palace where Shade remained in an outer room while Aeris closed the door behind her. Sighing heavily, she wept a few more tears before wiping them away with the back of her hand and moving to the vanity. She sat in the chair and placed her elbows on the edge of the counter, resting her head in her hands.

"My lady." Toreli spoke quietly from her side. A soothing hand was placed on Aeris's shoulder, "Are you all right?"

"No..." Aeris sobbed quietly, still not looking up at the handmaiden. "I hurt him bad. It was an accident."

Toreli hushed the empress with an embrace, "He is being taken care of, yes?" She received a nod in reply. "Then do not worry." She did not know of whom Aeris was speaking of, but it was not her place to ask. Not at this time.

Aeris tried to take the advice, but she just simply couldn't stop worrying. She wouldn't stop worrying until she saw to Rob Ryan herself. Looking up to her handmaiden, she instructed, "I need something other than this dress. Something more casual. I'm not returning to that party tonight."

"Yes, my lady." Toreli acknowledged before moving to the closet and soon pulling out a silver-gray blouse and matching slacks. The fabric was once again, distinctly elven and yet showed an influence of modern tastes.

As Aeris dressed herself, she instructed Toreli to send word to the command ship of the SkyWolf fleet, instructing them to increase enviromental and energy scans of the island and the area surrounding it for hostile forces that might be lying in wait. "I don't trust Arithon." she stated, bringing Toreli to a halt as she heard the name.

"He's here?"

"Yes." Aeris replied, "And I really don't like it one bit. Now get going." she instructed as she finished dressing. Opening the door she saw Shade standing off to the side, looking out a window toward the direction of the Palace du Nuit.

"Anything yet?" she inquired as she drew closer.

Cara was prepared to tell Mercy off in a fashion befitting an Imitoran, but was interupted as she was pulled away. It made little difference to her, if the Tanaarans wanted to meddle in Imitoran affairs, they were more than welcome to. However, she quietly wondered if they would be able to handle dealing with Imitorans at the basest level.

Irving escorted her over to the buffet, where she took a small sample of the finger foods, another glass of wine, and simply watched as the events of the night unfolded before her. The arrival of some leader was ill met, and the Taralachian delegate looked rather upset about it, even going as so far as to leave in a rather imature huff.

"See," Irving started, pointing out the exchange, to Cara, "thats why when we fight, we kill everything. That way, you don't need to deal with things like such at the next conference."

Cara chuckled, offering a slight smile. "Listen, the rules are in full effect tonight. Any conversations that take place are to do so from teh plane, nothing in the hotel. Understood?"

Irving nodded. He was more interested in the conference than even Cara, and would make sure nothing would hurt the Imitoran position. He smiled, and continued his prefered hobby of watching.

She nodded politely with a smile when Mercy introduced her to the one that had just been recently slapped.

Good Evening.

"Lord Arithon, the pleasure is mine," Cara offered, no hint of anger or distaste in her voice. "I must say, though, I think it was less of a pleasure for that Aeris. You would think, though, that a national leader would have far better manners than such displayed."

Previously to Shalamar's and Arithons conversation...

"I must say, though, I think it was less of a pleasure for that Aeris. You would think, though, that a national leader would have far better manners than such displayed."

Shalamar had spoken before Arithon could answer. Her voice was icy, and the look on her face showed even more displeasure than the one she'd visited on Aeris. "Tactful aren't you? And you might give some small consideration to the fact that Arithon worked freely with Abaddon to slaughter nearly seven billion Tarlachians and worked with Abaddon to destroy the heartlands of the Fatal Terrain mainland almost beyond recovery. Or hadn't you paid any more attention to the war your country participated in than you pay attention to what people are doing in your and your nations name?"

With that she walked away before Cara could reply....


Some fifteen minutes later the Dowager Empress of Tanara, Michiko Jones, Ambassadress to Earth and specifically Fatal Terrain returned to once again tender HM Queen Mercedez's apologies.

However the Tanaaran ruler would not be returning and bid every one an Adieu, and a wish that they continue the gathering, going on without her. She would make the opening address of the conference as scheduled.

http://atddm.com/bar11.gif

The Great Hall of the Grand Library.

Aides inspected the vast rfoom one last time. The side tables laden with thirst quenchers of all sorts - non alcoholic of course - and easily nibbled on finger foods were ready, that which was to be served hot, was hot and would stay that way,. and the cold equally so.

The round table gleamed softly under the lights. It had been chosen so that none was 'above' the others, save that currently extra lights shown on the haning above the Tanaraan section, for HM Mercedez would be speaking first to open the conference and lay out a short summary of the regional concerns that would be discussed at this important conference.

The table was divided into 13 sections, one for each nation expected to be present. Theodra and Grazhkjistan had already sent word that they would not be participating due to situations with in their nations. Caebhersiobh had sent word before daw that they were withdrawing, the Praetor Eilthir having been summoned home due to internal emergencies. The nation of Skullkingdom had made no response to the invitation, and the TMZ wasn't really a nation, but a coalition of military forces. A spot for Arithon had been made over night, the aides working overtime to see to all that was needed

The participating nations were seated alphabetically. Starting at an arbitrary twelve o'clock position, and thier backs to the center of the east wall...

Arithon
Assington
Blue Anthem
Callisdrun
Cats Keep
Central Worlds
DragonsReach
Golden Simatar
Highport
Imitora
Tanaara
Tarlachia
Vashnear.

The table was large enough that each nation had a spacious wedge, and each section had sound systems to filter out white noises, to add in pink noises so conversations with in the national wedge could be made privately and yet allow a speaker to be heard by all without the speaker to have to speak any louder than their normal speaking voice.

The lighting was non directional natural hues- no floursecents to cause headaches or eye strain - and not eye wearingly bright.

Each nations section had recessed ports for plugging in lap tops, PDA, and other electronic accessories, as well as pens and paper at hand. The pads of paper each carried the nations crest, as the pens, drinking crystal and other necessary accutrements..

All was in readiness, waiting for the delegates to arrive.

Mercy sat in the Tanaaran section, sipping a much needed cup of coffee and nibbling on the last bit of a croissant as she once again perused her opening statement. Her Majesty was nearly exhausted, but she didn't indend to let any be aware of that.

She wore a flowing black on black brocade silk kimono style over robe, a hand embroidered Tanaaran Golden Phoenix its threads of pure gold covering the back completely, that draped to her knees. The softly flowing, full legged slacks she wore were of black Charmeuse silk that had been cut on the bias and all most touched the floor, hiding the fact that she was wearing black ballerina flats. A demi tiara (http://www.atddm.com/tdt.jpg)- barely larger than the length of a ladies hand -of diamonds set in platinum graced her upswept tresses.

Her make up was flawless and her expression serene, as an attentive aide refilled her cup, and she thanked her in a soft voice.

There was a beautiful sunrise in the east, it's stellar glow reflecting off the ocean waters as if it were a pheonix rising from the ashes of night. And fittingly, the night's darkness fled the terrifying power of the star that dominated the daylight hours.

Aeris was back on the island now after having spent some time with Rob Ryan while he remained in the care of Tanaran physicians. He had spoken little to her, his mind and body drugged with painkillers. Now, she sat on the island's eastern beaches, the waves sweeping just to the reach of her feet before returning to the ocean time and again.

She was better now, knowing that Rob Ryan would be right as rain in due time. She had hurt him, but not beyond the healing abilities of well knowledgeable physicians. Distanced from the spell inhibitors while on board the spaceship Inner Lights, she too had bequeathed upon Roby Ryan a prayer of her own, a spell in itself that would hasten his return to full health.

"My lady, it is time to get you dressed and to the conference. It begins in an hour's time." the voice of Toreli was heard from behind. Toreli stood barefoot in the sand, having also spent some quiet time on the beach. Though she was Aeris's personal handmaiden, she was allowed to live her own life as if she were amongst friends who were not in a position of power. Aeris considered her a good friend as well, furthering that idea.

"Very well. Let's return." Aeris replied as she rose to her feet, swept the sand from her bottom and returned to the embassy in no hurried pace. She swept her hands through her hair, scratching her scalp for a few moments before continuing to loosen the knots that had formed courtesy of the brisk morning wind. One might have even thought that she dreaded attending the meeting at all.

---------------------------

"Her majesty, Empress Aeris Greenwood." a doorman spoke aloud, holding the door open for Aeris to enter the grand hall. The empress entered wearing a pure white pair of loose fitting slacks and blouse that hugged her features lightly, yet still bore elven design for it seemed to flow off her limbs almost like water. It swished in near silent movement with each muscle twitch. Around her slender neck hung an elegant elven necklace (http://www.newline-shop.com/nlc/lotrnbnke.jpg) which signified her rightful rule. Aeris gave him a polite nod, then turned her attention to all in the room as of yet. Another servant moved forward, bowed respectfully and spoke, "Your seat is over here, my lady."

Aeris nodded and followed, soon seating herself in the chair pulled out for her. Toreli had accompanied Aeris to the meeting, and now stood back directly behind her empress up against the wall. She would remain here and carry out any duties that might arise during the meeting.

Aeris in the meantime withdrew from a hidden pocket a small blue crystal and placed into the scanner. Instantly, it glowed for a moment, then darkened once more as the information within was uploaded and displayed on a hologram screen just off to her right. It was the type of screen that was only seen by her, and not seen from the opposite side. In fact, from the opposite side, it appeared as if nothing were there. A pad of paper was pulled closer, and the pen remained resting upon it. Glancing down for a moment at the pen, she raised her hand, holding it outward as if to push it away, and watched as it shook at first, then rose to an upright position and wrote the day's date on the upper corner of the pad, all without her physical touch. Pleased to see she could at least tap this much of her arcane abilities despite the inhibitors, she allowed the pen to rest once more. She knew she wouldn't be able to do much more than that in the arcane sense. Such were the protocols of security.

Looking up again, she nodded politely to Mercedez, speaking at last. "He'll be all right. I'm sorry for what happened. I don't think it's necessary to explain why it turned out as it did..."

She kept her face composed, though it was clear that behind her eyes, she cared for Rob Ryan, and she also cared with concern the relationship with Mercy that she suspected might have been shaken greviously because of her actions.

With the news of the Crown Prince's misfortune, Samantha took the oppurtunity to leave without drawing too much attention. As soon as she had found her way back to the vallet, the driver was already starting the car. Appearntly he had heard of the arrival of the foul demon and had anticipated Samantha's departure soon thereafter. Grateful, she made her way into the backseat, and was on her way back to the comforts of her residence for the trip. Her beauty sleep was going to be needed, as just a few shorts hours later they would all be assembled again, this time to discuss the serious matters that the conference was called for in the first place. She barely spared herself the time to slip out of her formal robes and into a light pink silk nightie that hung loosely around her frame before making her way into bed, and falling comfortably asleep just seconds after her head touched the pillows.

----------------------------------

A loud yawn manged to escape from the fair maiden as she had entered the Grand Library that would serve as their conference room. Gladually taking up a glass of sweet tea, she shimmied over to the area marked off for her and collapsed into her seat. She was happy that aides had allowed her to come in the white, loose skirt and blouse as opposed to the indigo business suit that they had been insisting on all morning. With her hair up in a ponytail, she presented a much more innocent look than that of the night before and her eyes were all the more visable for the full use of manipulation if need be. With Aeris and Mercedez already present, she smiled and waved at the two, and prepared for the long process that this conference was doomed to become.

"He'll be all right. I'm sorry for what happened. I don't think it's necessary to explain why it turned out as it did..."

Mercedez's face showed little, merely her lips compressing, bu there was a pale line around those lips and it wasn't one of pain. She closed her eyes, fighting down a mothers fury at what had happened to her son. When at last she opened them they sparkled with anger, but her voice was calm and even.

"Yes he will. He has the best healers and physicians Tanara has to offer. And I thank the universe that they were here, for if they weren't I'm not sure my son would have lived." She closed her eyes again for just a moment, and now her voice was flat, and there was no warmth in her eyes. "Aeris, if you intend to rule, you first must rule yourself. If you ever strike my son again save in self defense, I will kill you." It was no threat, no promise, just bald statement of fact.

"Thank you for being sorry, regretting what you did." The thaw in Mercedez's voice was minimal, but discernable, barely.

Her attention was claimed by the next arrival, and her lips thinned again, this time in certain disapproval as Samantha danced into the confrence room, clad in nothing appropriate to her station or the solemnity of the proceedings. And the noisy yawn scarely endeared her to Mercedez either.

When Samantha waved at her, Mercedez merely nodded and returned to her final perusal of her notes. Thulvar Verde, Lands held by the Private Corperation of Mercinary Soldiers, Kazar Tiyon, Atros, Valleah, Stickwood, Baqss Funk, Raxhep, Angeleo, New Roan, Mikatopia, Outer Heaven II, Argonia, Natallah-Rim, Dougalich, Gorgamin, Velmora...Somany nations had fallen, been absorbed by other nations, or now lay in ruins... Mercedez shook her head appaled by the magnitude of what needed to be dealt with.

Aeris met the gaze from Mercedez with resolve, not once looking away when she glared at the Tarlachian, then relayed her threat. No matter how she intended it, it was still a threat, and one that Aeris would not forget.

Glancing toward Samantha whom had come into the room dressed in quite casual clothing, she raised an eyebrow as she watched the girl seat herself and yawn. She looked back to Mercedez, transferring her thoughts to mental speech. Your anger is understandable, but honestly think for a moment. Would killing me make you any better? Not to mention the international and intergalactic repercussions that would bring.

She waited until Mercedez met her steeled gaze before finishing up, And, it would be very difficult on your part to kill me. I won't simply roll over and die. You should know that by now. Her gaze softened, But, I sincerely hope it never comes to that. You are a close friend, whom I highly respect and admire.

She tapped a few screens on the holoscreen, pulling up various information, inputing some notes on them, and then minimized them once more. In between two of the screens, she paused and looked back up at Mercedez, And as much as this might sound crazy...I really do care about Rob Ryan, more so than you might realize... She let it trail off, averting her gaze to a window in which a bird had settled on the windowsill, it's song silenced by the pane of glass. She sighed to herself.

Your anger is understandable, but honestly think for a moment. Would killing me make you any better? Not to mention the international and intergalactic repercussions that would bring.

Mercy met Aeris eyes with no lessening of the intensity of her own, replying as Aeris had 'One day when you are a mother you will understand that I don't really give a damn about reprecussions in this matter. She chuffed in amusement, both mentally and under her breath It's a mother thing -I didn't understaqnd either until I became a mother - and it took me a long time to realise that there is NO rational explaination for the 'mother thing' - it just... well, some day you'll have the blessing of dealing with it. And I'll commiserate with you then'

And as much as this might sound crazy...I really do care about Rob Ryan, more so than you might realize...

Her sigh matched Aeris's.

Mercy sighed and replied 'Why do I have this ridiculous impulse to wonder about age differences? Just please remember that while he is incredibly mature for his age, he is still terribly young.

Aeris took in Mercedez's commentary about the difference in ages and she shook her head slightly, He may be younger than me, but that is nothing we can control. However, I will wait. More for his own growth needs in terms of world experience. When the time is right, then we'll perhaps see where it leads.

She watched as the bird flew away from the window, then turned her attention to the clouds, looking for weather patterns that would indicate the day's weather. She had not bothered to look at the satellite uplinks earlier that morning, but then again, she only needed to look at the skies herself and make her own judgment.

To herself and now with her mind locked down, Aeris thought about Shalamar's words the night before regarding Rob Ryan. Well, another thing to not follow up on this. I've nearly killed the man. Now, he'll not want to be near me ever again.

Anger surfaced in her mind now, anger at herself. She let it simmer for a moment before pushing it down again, burying it deep within. She wouldn't let it get to her now. Now was the time to worry about the future ownership of the lands of fallen nations within the region.

Looking back into the room at last, she looked around and shook her head. "Where the hell is everyone? They were supposed to be here by now." she growled, impatient now to begin the discussions. She didn't want to be here any longer than she had to.

The Imitoran delegation arrived shortly after the Tarlachians. Cara was still well dressed, wearing a tastefull pant suit, her hair done in a professional, respectfull manner. Irving was done up similarly, a black on black suit, dark red tie, and the well polished Miami Classic over the shoulder, holding the Wilson 1911 and two extra magazines. He had reviewed the tapes of previous conferences that Imitora had attended, and wouldn't risk any sort of happenings.

However, the rest of the State team was less done up. Most wore their gear over black tshirts with rolled sleeves or wife beaters, revealing well muscled arms, covered with tattoos. Jeans or cargo pants were held up by belts in some cases, and all had the standard Sig P226 strapped into a Serpa holster on their thigh. They looked less like a professional security team monitering the First Speaker, and more like a group of rag tag mercenaries fresh out of a war zone. They followed Cara into the building, but stopped short, and returned to their vehicles, monitering the outside situation.

Inside, Cara and Irving made their way to the table, and took their seats at the conference table. Her attaché case held all the needed documents she needed for the conference. Irving went to the table, grabbing to glasses of water, leaving the food for later. He stood close to Cara, analyzing every angle of the room, ready for just about any thing. Well, almost anything. Cara remained quiet. She would let Aeris and Mercy chat now, she was far more concerned with the business at hand.

She looked up at Irving. "We have the Thor files, right?"

He nodded.

"Excellent," she replied, and checked her watch.

"Where the hell is everyone? They were supposed to be here by now."

"Aeris, I know you've probably had no more sleep than I've had, but " Mercy drew a breath, she'd almost told the younger woman to shut the hell up, but that wasn't in the least diplomatic. "Please, it is still not yet the listed time, and here come the Imitorans."

She looked over at Cara and Irving, her smile polite but frosty. However before she could speak there was a small comotion at the door, and then a tall man was pushing past some of the aides. A battered fedora hid most of his face, but Mercy appeared to recognise him instantly.

Mercy's face lit up when she saw him, despite his somewhat disheveled appearance. "Raven!" She exclaimed softly, obviously pleased to see the newcomer. Pushing her chair back, she stood and moved to meet him part way, her steps quick, but not hurried and ever gracefull.

Raven (http://www.atddm.com/raven2.jpg) went to one knee before the queen, sweeping his hat off. Taking her hand gallantly he pressed a gentle kiss to her palm as Mercy glowed, as if lit from within and tugged him to his feet. "Raven!" Her tone mock chastized, but it was clear that Mercy didn't give a whit that there were others present. "And as grubby as ever."

"Ah, if I had but known I'd be bringing this directly to you, I would have found a way to shave." He stood, keeping hold of her and and drawing her close. He slipped her a data crystal and whispered something for her ears alone.

"No you wouldn't" Mercy shook her head, but her smile said that his not shaving was perfecty acceptable. The shake turned into a nod as she listened to his whisper and the smile faded somewhat. "No you must come sit with me today. With Rob Ryan still recovering I don't have a co-delegate, and I insist."

Raven mock sighed and aquiessed "If I must." but in a tone that, like hers, spoke of very different feelings, pleasure certainly not the resignation the words conveyed.

"You must!" came the playful command.

Mercy stopped where Aeris sat. "Your Majesty, might I introduce my dear friend Raven?" At Aeris's nod and stood she continued "Your Imperial Majesty, the Empress of Tarlachia, Aeris Greenwood, this unshaven wrtech" Her brilliant smile took any sting out of her words " is His Grace, Duke Izanami, Lord Raven Helstrom. He was assigned as my liason by the Tanaran Empire at the beginning of the war, and since decided to stay."

Aeris would easily remember that Izanami was one of the oldest and major star systems in the Tanaran Empire, and that by introducing him in the way Mercy had meant that he ruled the entire system, or - and more likely since he had been assigned here - it meant that a council of regents ruled in his stead. And the tone Mercy used meant that Raven was more than 'just' a friend.

Raven bowed deeply and with a sophisticated flourish kissed the hand that Aeris prooffered. "I can see why my young friend Rob Ryan is smitten, your Imperial Majesty. It is my complete pleasure to be made know to you." He let the formality that Rob liked to tease her with fall away. "It truly is my pleasure, and I am sorry we have not had a chance to meet before now, but during the war my greater duties kept me occupied elsewhere."

The representatives of Central worlds, Dragonsreach, Highport and Vastnear arrived a short time later, entering the room and looking about.

The president of Central Worlds had chosen a severe, business style pants suit of soft grey and came with her ever present wrist comp. Lauralin chose a soft blue gown of satin with her defenders symbols on the right shoulder. Her father, after some discussion and no little persuasion on his daughter's part, had forgone the typical armor that such conferences would have called for in thier own lands and accepted a somewhat old styled, though charming, court suit. Tailchaser had been left in clothes similar to the night before, being the most comfortable for her particular physique. Neither Forester, nor Nancia, were present for the proceedings.

They stopped just inside the doorway and Lauralin pointed to the place for the Baroness. She moved to her seat, while the others did the same, Laura's father following his daughter and seating her before moving to his own place one section over from her.

Close behind the rulers of DragonsReach, Highport, Vashnear and Central Worlds came Lady Shalamar. Today she was in the full regalia of a Leronis, a Tenerista.

Hidden from head to toes, even her face was veiled save for her eyes, and her hands gloved. The heavy crimson silks moved about her, never still as they reacted to the power of her psionic gifts which swirled about her like an ill-constrained vortex. Coming too close, much less touching her was not advised, and the robes hue a warning, the silk insulating not only her but any about her from her.

Her Matrix hung openly at her throat.

For those that had the gifts to See... a sword of crystal so black that it swallowed light hung across her back and in one hand she grasped lightly a healers Caduceus, the jewel scaled asps twining leisurely up and down the length of the lightening struck oak, the wings and ankh of beaten gold.

MBC and Smug were in midsized form, their shoulders reaching her waist. They paced on either side of her, wings furled close, ears and whiskers perked as they glanced about with barely restrained curiosity.

Shalamar took her seat after aquiring both drink and plates of delicacies, nodding good morning to those already arrived, but clearly not interested in small talk. The Flap Cats curled up on either side of her chair purring as she shared the snacks with them.

The Great Hall of the Grand Library, some few minutes after the scheduled commencement time

Miercy stood without fanfare. She didn't need it. What was about to fill the center of the vast circular table would be enough...

Her voice, soft but clear - reverent, prayerful - carried easily through out the vast hall, filling every corner.

"Angeleo
Argonia
Atros
Bass Funk
Dougalich
Gorgamin
Kazar Tiyon
Mikatopia
Natallah – Rim
New Roan
Outer Heaven
Raxhep
Stickwood
Thulvar Verde
Valleah
Velmora
And the lands held by the Corporation of Mercenary Soldiers.”

It was a solemn roll call that could not be answered.

A roll call of the dead.

And in the center of the table …The holograms displayed, an uncaring march, a relentless visual dirge…

A funeral of nations, their peoples, societies, cultures.

History in the form of Archival footage from both inside and outside the no longer extant nations...

The Argonian civil war as clan fought clan and the weapons became those of mass destruction...

Argonia, Dougalich, Mikatopia and the western end of Stickwood now apart of Tarlachia, the remainder of Stickwood held by Golden Simatar.

The last of the Elvin population of Stickwood dieing in the toxic swamp that their fragile ecosystem had become at the hands of Abaddon’s demons..

The Corporation announcing its bankruptcy and dissolution as they over extended themselves to participate in the war.

Massive starvation in New Roan, bringing that nation to it's knees and ending civilization as anything resembling a ‘nation’.

Kazar Tiyon entering his volcanic tomb never to be seen again as his people committed mass suicide...

Grazhkjistan now holding the lands of the failed corporation of Mercenary Soldiers as Caebhersiobh held part of Kazar Tiyon, Golden Simatar holding some of the rest

The island nation of Atros dissolving into civil chaos under the strain of the recent war as did another island nation, the much smaller Valleah.

Velmora and the machines it's scientists and mages had designed to free them from all hardship... the once self aware machines now sat crumbling in to indistinguishable piles of decay, as dead as the those that created them. Those they had slaughtered.

Bass Funk and Outer Heaven become part of Tanaara. Blue Anthem holding some of the lands that once were the nation of Raxhep

Thulvar Verde, and Gorgamin- they too fell, if but more slowly,shattered economies, decimated popluations, land rendered poisonous by demonic weapons of war.

Imitora swallowing the collapsed Velmora, and Natallah – Rim. Valleah become apart of Assington,


The staggering cost that time and war had brought to Fatal Terrain.

As Mercy called out each name the giant holographic projection of the region of Fatal Terrain morphed, showing the changes, Then showing Fatal Terrain as it was today (http://www.atddm.com/ftmapnew1.jpg)

And when it finally was over, blessedly over, there was silence for a long time. Then she spoke, her voice still soft, but harder now, not praying but ready to stand and deliver.

Good morning every one, if one can consider good a morning where one must consider what I have just laid bgefore you." Mercy's smile was was. She had spent weeks studying the situation in Fatal Terrain, and it still affected her powerfully. "I am, on the whole, dispensing with formality, for I feel that what we need to accomplish is too important to become bogged down in needless titles bowing and scraping. I do wish to thank all of you for taking time out of your busy schedules to come and discuss, and hopefully resolve, some of the thorny issues that lie before our great region.

"I’m going to speak bluntly, and I hope no one takes offense at that bluntness. Less than two years ago Tarlachia managed to emerge victorious from a decade long war that began as a civil war, but ended as one where most of our nations provided more than just monetary aid. We provided troops and materials, each according to our various abilities. It, frankly, was the only thing we could have done, for if the Demons that were doing their best to destroy Tarlachia utterly had won, I doubt that most of us would be here today.

"It was a terrible conflict, that affected every nation – every single nation in Fatal Terrain - to one extent or another. Some nations no longer exist, their governments having fallen, and anarchy taken over. Whole cultures are now gone, cities vacant, the countryside emptied. People surviving in whatever meager conditions they can find."

"Some nations in the region have expanded their borders, taken in these survivors, yet other areas, other people, are still struggling to survive. For more than just humanitarian reasons these survivors, these fallen nations, these abandoned lands, must be dealt with. Yes, I know that much of the terrain has been blighted, waters poisoned, the once efficient national infrastructures now little more than wreckage that must be removed before anything resembling rebuilding can occur. And those inhabitants are little more than scavengers, bands of the strong preying on the weaker. Growing lawlessness that threatens to gather strength with the next generation, a generation born in the midst of the war, a generation that knows nothing of civilization, education, and more."

Aeris said a silent prayer for each of the deceased nations as a whole, wishing the departed souls a clear path to a bright afterlife. She listened as Mercy gave details as to which nations would be annexed by the surviving nations. When she was finished, she spoke up at last.

"First, let me say that my people honor the dead of other nations as if they were their own kinsmen. Many died in a war they should not have been caught in, but were. Sadly, there is nothing that can be done for those gone, but we still have time to help those who have survived."

She looked around at the heads of state in attendance, meeting each gaze with respect, save for that exchanged with Arithon. To him, she narrowed her eyes and shook her head ever so slightly before moving on to the next.

"On behalf of Tarlachia, I would like to thank each of you who have had a hand in preserving what was left of our homeland and stopping the-" she turned to glare at Arithon once more, "demon filth that invaded our lands."

She keyed something into the panel nearest her, bringing a hologram of her hand next to the map that was in the center of the table. "I suggest, as a regional alliance of powers, that we leave lands aside, lands that will be cleaned up, made presentable for other nations who wish to lay legitimate claims in our region. We'll help them as we can, but they will be ultimately responsible to continue their own existence to the end of their days."

Samantha took every word in as both Aeris and Mercy made their statements. She was intruiged to learn that when BAP was settled that they were taking over lands once belonging to a nation that had since fallen in on itself and essaence had been wiped from the face of the planet. She couldn't help but look a bit flustered during the words of the war, because truth be known, the military of Blue Anthem had hid in their own lands with their tails tucked between their legs like scared little puppies. Vastly ashamed of their lack of involvement in ridding the demon scum from the lands of Tarlachia, Samantha stood straight up and addressed the audience.

"Friends, representatives, and "honored" guests, it is a grave misfortune to have these numerous events transpire in our lands. Even worse still is the fact that some of us were either unable or not willing to assist in the cleansing of the filth. However, time allows everyone of us to make better on whatever actions that transpired or we were too afraid to make so. This is that time to do so. Rising costs for maintance and protection of our lands is evident in my country, and I would be willing to bet that it is so in many of your own. My suggestion is that we all do our part in stabilising the regional economy so that these costs can be cut down and that the formation of a regional defence alliance should be created, so that our efforts may be better coordinated when the drums of war beat loud again. Though the idea may not seem ideal to you now, think of what benifits it will bring to each of the member nations when conflict besets your borders. Wtih demon raids and population on the rise, and differences that eventually lead to battle, I see no better way we could use our funds to make a difference in the present and future. This is our time to secure our reputations and safety for generations to come."

She sat back down, and only hoped that she did not just make a huge fool of herself.

Boris and Peter arrived seconds before the conference officially began. A team of ASA agents spread out amongst the room, sticking to walls and other out of the way positions within the room. The BCS team had been stationed outside and throughout the rest of the building in case their presence was needed.

Boris wore a pair of jeans and long sleeved, collared shirt whilst Peter had chosen a t-shirt, partly hidden by a brown leather jacket and also accompanied by a pair of jeans. Evidently the pair were not the kind to dress formally when they were not required to.

Both plugging in Assingtonian laptops, the pair began opening relevant files, fully employing the use of the latest ILD screens. The screen itself was actually a quicksilver like substance composed of nanites, programmed biological cells and various electronics in the background. The screen allowed the user to simply place a finger into the screen and it would act as a cursor, navigating the computer by sheer mental will.

The list of past nations was long and whilst unfortunate to see so many nations fall, Assington's number one concern was itself. The war in Tarlachia had been secondary to the internal turmoil surrounding fixed elections, a tyrannical president and a long line of murders.

Leaning over towards Peter, Boris spoke quietly to his MoD.

"What are we doing with that land below our borders?"

"Nothing at the moment."

"Hmm, that should change."

Any mention of the demons were of particular interest to the Assingtonian pair. So far they had not come up against these creatures and the destruction in Tarlachia was obvious cause for concern.

Arithon appeared quite suddenly shortly before the Assingtonians. He didn't bother with any theatrics or attention seeking tricks, he simply stepped into his allocated space and sat down calmly. He appeared just as he had the night before, wearing the exact same clothes, changing didn't really seem necessary in his eyes.

The fact that he was at this conference was quite amusing from his perspective, hence his attendance in the first place. Evidently more than a few were not happy with it yet he cared little for their opinions.

"On behalf of Tarlachia, I would like to thank each of you who have had a hand in preserving what was left of our homeland and stopping the-" she turned to glare at Arithon once more, "demon filth that invaded our lands."

Arithon merely stared back at Aeris, a mild grin stuck on his face as he sensed her bottled rage. A million responses flew through his mind, any number of cutting comments could halt the conference before it even got started but Arithon chose to remain silent, simply maintaining his smile as Aeris continued to speak. Well aware that many of the eyes within the room were upon him, Arithon's gaze did not shift, although his awareness noted the presence of Shalamar in particular, she was hard to miss to those that possessed less mundane senses.

I suggest, as a regional alliance of powers, that we leave lands aside, lands that will be cleaned up, made presentable for other nations who wish to lay legitimate claims in our region.

Shalamar nodded at Aeris's suggestion concerning setting aside lands, and a regional alliance to over see them, though she had som modifications to offer when she spoke.

"that the formation of a regional defence alliance should be created, so that our efforts may be better coordinated when the drums of war beat loud again

She agreed with Samanthas' thoughs but she would reserve speaking on that subject until later. She definitely had some ideas there, and also a good notion of who would reject such a defence pact out of hand. Some nations just thrived on being difficult....

Once Samantha had finished speaking she stood and spoke her thoughts. "I agree with Aeris, those lands should be set aside, and administered by an oversight board comprised of those nations willing to donate funds to the repair of those lands. I think however that those people who can be rescued and removed should be, especially this generation born during hte war. They are but children and deserve a better life than eeking out a mere survivalist existance."

She turned to Arithon. "Arithon, as partner to Abaddon, I think it would go far to redress the harm done to the region - which you have a stake in as much as any other nation - if you voluntered funds, substancial funds, to repair damaged to the ecosystems and other necessary works."

Her voice held no acccusation, no condemnation, just a even toned sternness. Shalamar might not hate Arithon as some here did, but she did not excuse him of his share of the blame for what had happened.

"To aid in the recovery of the lands, I am willing to donate my time and energies towards repairs, and I will donate funds as well. Cats Keep may be the smallest nation in Fatal Terrain, rather resembling Litchenstein in Europe, but I did some review and I feel that Cats Keep could take in as many as three thousand refugees in as many months." Shalamar's donas, her psionic gifts could remold and cleanse the lands made foul.

It wasn't much she knew against the many hundred of thousands of scattered survivors, but when a nation's arable land holdings were a mountain valley less than hundred square miles. 'Though I could build 'within' my mountains, do a primarily sub surface archology..' She mused and nodded to herself.

"Actually upon reflection, Cats Keep could taken in ten times that many with in the next two years. Though I know that even thirty thousand or so is but a drop in the bucket. Mercy, do you have any figures on how many refugees are out there?"

Mercy, do you have any figures on how many refugees are out there?"

"Yes some rough estimates." Mercy replied as the hologram changed to a detailed list. "I've sent it all to your data terminals, but roughly close to twenty million are living in perilous conditions in regions unclaimed by any extant nations." She highlighted the areas where the greatest numbers of refugees lived.

"Here, in the lands betwen Grazhkjistan and the coast, more here south of Assington, northeast of Tarlachia and Golden Scimatar. Those are the arreas with the largest populations of refugees."

The Tanaaran monarch looked around the table. "I know that a mere twenty million seems to be a drop in the bucket to those nations whos'e populations hover in the billions. However we can not just allow this to continue."

"I am allocating roughly fifteen percent of Tanaaras GDP, some 1,7 trillion decans to this effort. I have projects underway to take in roughly one million of the refugees,primarily families and orphans." She added before acknowleding the next nation to speak, and returning to her seat.

Aeris tapped the holoscreen in front of her, bringing the area northeast of Tarlachia into focus. She studied the surrounding terrain. Mountains bordering Arithon's hellish lands, ancient forest to the east and northeast, and oceans to the north. A lot of land, but I think it could be done.

She touched various areas on the map, highlighting them with colored markers and putting notes down on the screen as to their designations. Construction efforts here...here...and here. Food supply depots scattered about. Security and military units stationed within and surrounding the mountains.

She paused her thoughts, returning them to the conversation at hand, although she had never once stopped listening. She liked the idea of a regional defense organization, though she had some reservations, particularly underhanded manipulations within the organization. Unless there were a system set up to somehow alter loyalties directly to the organization only. Remove outside influence.

Taking her moment to speak once more, she tapped the button that lit a small bulb directly in front of her indicating her desire to speak. "Tarlachia will allocate what funds it can to tend to the needs of refugees to the northeast of Tarlachia. I expect that our economy will be able to support such even as fragile as it is."

She looked around the table for a moment before stopping at Samantha, "I support the idea of a regional defense organization, but before I voice my thoughts on that, I will wait to see if more of us are open to the idea as well."

She keyed the button again, and the light turned off, giving up time for another to speak.

Cara listened, and would deal with the notion of a defense organization at a later time. Flicking on the noise generators for her station, she leand over to Irving, discussing the situation at hand.

"Refugees. Lovely. Bunch of freeloaders coming to live off the land, eh?"

Irving offered a slight chuckle, followed by a nod. "We could always send them to the Farabund testing grounds, use them like we used the surviving Daezemanis way back when."

Cara had an almost sinister smile. "Indeed. I saw the military tapes of that. I don't even know why they wasted time hiding it has a "round effectiveness test."

Turning off the generators, she offered her peace. She was about to start with "let the refugee's fend for themselves, like normal people," but instead used a more diplomatic approach.

"We can deal with refugees as they come to our nation, but our general way of handling customs would most likely mean we'd be dealing with boat people, as such. We are in the process right now of eliminating all publicly funded operations outside of needed government functions, such as security. That should free up a healthy chunk of cash for assistance. We don't have numbers now, but we can have them shortly."

Peter and Boris pulled up several maps and figures regarding the land south of Assington and the refugees spread throughout. The notion of taking in several million people for a free ride was not appealing, yet they had a solution in mind. Examining the geography, Boris conversed with his MoD.

"Well, if we want to expand into that part of the region, why not set up temporary camps and shelters for these refugees to live in and also give them jobs in the colonisation and reconstruction process. Of course we'll send down our own engineers and such, but that may appease the people if they have a hand in rebuilding their homes and such."

Peter nodded, having considered the very same idea. Alerting the others that Assington wished to comment, Peter indicated Boris should make the statement. Getting to his feet, Boris gazed around all the faces that had recently shifted attention from the Imitorans to himself.

"Assington is willing to handle the land to the south of it and play a major role in the re-civilisation of the area, with the cooperation of those that used to live there. Resources are not an issue and we shall allocate what is necessary to rebuild on the condition this land will become a province of Assington."

The pair were not sure how the other members of Fatal Terrain would take to such an idea but they believed it would be most beneficial for all parties involved.

Aeris responded to Boris with her light flicking on a moment, "I don't see a problem with that, so long as you, as well as any other nations, do not try to force refugees to take the respective citizenship against their free will."

She waved a hand to eloquate, "Let them remain for a time, then give them an option to remain and begin citizenship process or depart for their intended homelands after the initial residency time has expired. Let them get back on their feet, then present the options to them. At all times, refugee's rights should be respected and kept in mind. Though they are displaced at this time, they still are sentients and deserve the right to choose their own fates as they can."

She looked around at the faces, "Otherwise, you'd be no better than the ones that displaced them in the first place."

She keyed the button and the light flicked off once more.

"Arithon, as partner to Abaddon, I think it would go far to redress the harm done to the region - which you have a stake in as much as any other nation - if you voluntered funds, substancial funds, to repair damaged to the ecosystems and other necessary works."

Arithon considered this for a moment. There was no denying whatsoever that the majority of the damage done to Tarlachia and the region was caused by those under his command, although he didn't personally care for the people, perhaps there would be other benefits in such.

"I don't exactly keep a large pile of gold lying around, but I could very well remove the demonic taint upon the lands of Tarlachia and surrounding areas quite easily. I have no interest in Tarlachia, that was Abaddon's focus and with him gone, it no longer concerns me."

Whilst sounding somewhat cold, it was completely honest, although Arithon doubted that most would appreciated that fact.

"I don't exactly keep a large pile of gold lying around, but I could very well remove the demonic taint upon the lands of Tarlachia and surrounding areas quite easily. I have no interest in Tarlachia, that was Abaddon's focus and with him gone, it no longer concerns me."


Shalamar gave Arithon a speaking look for his comment about large piles of gold laying about. Mounds of gold had gone out of fashion, save among the Draconic kind age ago.

However she hoped Aeris was listening to what the demon lord had said aboutg having no interest in Tarlachia, and would accept his offer to remove the demonic taint. Though she knew that if it was accepted it would be with gritted teeth, hands tightened into fists, and scant - if any -courtesy.

Aeris listened as Arithon spoke, her eyes widening for a moment as his offer was made in regards to the demonic taint in the lands closest to the demonic nation. When he was finished, she inhaled slowly, her eyes downcast for several moments as she surveyed a few thoughts in her mind.

Finally, she looked up and caught Arithon's gaze. Her hand triggered the light switch. "Accepted. It's a start for now. I know you can't bring back the dead, so I suppose there are other ways you could atone for their deaths. However, I have a question for you. You say you had no interest in Tarlachia before or after Abaddon's reign. Obviously, you used him to set your nation into the region permanently. Why didn't you just approach us before and simply ask for land? We might have been more willing to accommodate you somehow then. Why go the route you did? Why cause the death and suffering of countless individuals?"

The light flicked off as she kept her gaze locked with his, expecting an answer.

Sounds like us, Cara mused, mentally. Imitora had oft acted the same way amongst its many holdings. When they wanted or needed something, they took it. Social Darwinism at its best. If the people they attacked couldn't fight back, couldn't hold the land that the Imitorans wanted, then why should they have it? That mentally had started wars in many a small country that had some sort of natural resource, and the Imitoran military had plenty of experience in dealing with the modern concept of an insurgency solely because of that mentality.

Cara leaned back in her seat, nodding to Irving, whom she knew was thinking the same thing. He had a sort of off smile on his face, with serene eyes, as he too awaited Arithon's answer. It was intriguing that the Tarlachians, a group he had thought of as fighters, would resort to a sort of petty bickering when more important things were to be discussed. He especially looked forward to Cara's response regarding a regional defense force, something many a First Speaker had opposed, and presumably she would oppose as well.

He stifled a chuckle at the wording of the Tarlachian Empress, and took a sip of the water he had acquired at the start of the conference.

"Why go the route you did? Why cause the death and suffering of countless individuals?"

Arithon considered his words carefully. He had no reason to lie but sometimes it paid to word things in a particular manner.

"It was simply a means to an end. Abaddon provided the necessary strength and abilities to allow myself a permanent foothold within the wasteland. I did not steal land from anyone, that wasteland has been under my influence since before many of your nations existed. If there had been another means of doing such that did not require the effort of invading Tarlachia, I would have chosen that path."

With a permanent presences now established on Earth, Arithon could only wonder what his master wished to happen next. This had been the first planet that presented a deity strong enough to beat back Arithon's approach and this realm was beyond the physical reach of his creator. The next tasked would no doubt be interesting.

Samantha peered over the map, and the different regions around the nation. The mountains along the eastern border effectively made accessing BAP from ground impossible, as the forests north were too thick to navigate through efficiently, and the rest of the nation was enclosed by the ocean. In essence, the nation was by itself in the corner of the region, giving Samantha some leeway.

"I will absolutely not house these refuges. I feel sorry for these individuals, and I will donate what funds I can, but my nation cannot take on any of these people. To do so would complicate already difficult conditions in my nation and would create more tension amongst the different races who call my nation home. We started as a nation of hybrid refuges, having been forced from the lands where we called home because of cultural prejudice and unwillingness to accept others outside the norm. Many of these people who would have us take in are the same type of people who forced us out of their lands to begin with. So why would we harbor them? Why would the oppressed harbor their oppressors? No, I will not dishonor the nation in that way. I'll give my support in the financial backing, but that is it."

Samantha relaxed back in her chair, with her cheeks a deep cherry red, obviously flustered at the idea of having to take in refugees. She had come here to negotiate and make friends, but she would not be made to do anything that she did not want to. She simply refused to become a puppet for these stronger nations, even if it would mean any negotiations along the road would be hampered by doing so.

When those around the table had sat silent for a long secnd after Samanatha's out burst... Mercy stood, and spoke..

Mercy looked evenly at Samantha, her recognition of the angel's hypocricy obvious. "So a nation of refugees won't take in any refugees." Her vocie contained no censure, merely an amused coldness. "Thats fine, your people will be what they fled from. I've seen it happen often enough."

Her nation had little room to throw stones, the refugees they allowed in would be very carefully screened, and would be mostly children, the better to mold them to the Tanaaran way.

"I know that refugees are a thorny problem, but if we don't do something about it, they will just grow and multiply, and become an even bigger problem. I happen to know that the Tanaran Empire has several newly opened to colonization planets. Perhaps they would offer some of the refugess a hard, but ripe with potential, life among them. And those that chose to remain, we coulds use the contributions to rebuild infrastructure in the most promising areas, so that the refugees might try to form into new nations.We could offer further funds as no interest loans to the governments that develop." Mercy suggested before returning to her seat.

Shalamar looked at Cara, then at Samantha, then on to where the empty chairs of the delegation sat forlorne. She shook her head in disgust at the non appearance of the President of the Golden Simatar, and the equally empty seats set aside for Callisdrun.

Her tone was hard as she turned back to the Imitoran delegation. " Your nation may be an island, first speaker, but that doesn't protect you from tides of boat people, and you can't kill them all. Genocide and even plain old mass murder, is so terribly disapproved of, not to mention illegal."

She turned cold eyes to Samantha "And you claim to be an Angel? I can well guess you got kicked out for failing your kindness, charity, tolerance and comforting the oppressed exams."

"It seems that few care what become of our region. Aeris, Mercy when you all have had enough of this uselessness, come talk to me and we'll get the problems taken care of on our own. And if the rest of the region doesn't like how it's handled, well they should have taken the time to come and participate. To make usefull suggestions instead of protesting that 'we can't do it or sitting silent as stone" and that laser scalpel look was directed at DragonsReach, Highport, Vashnear and Central Worlds.

"Lord Arithon I hope you come and visit some time."

"Peter, Boris, I think your claim to the remainder of your island, provided you allow the survivors to have a participation in the reconstruction of their homes, and a claim to said homes, is an excellent notion, and I fully support it."

She stood in a swirl of crimson robes, Smug and MBC rising flank her, then she Stepped the three of them and was gone.

Your nation may be an island, first speaker, but that doesn't protect you from tides of boat people, and you can't kill them all. Genocide and even plain old mass murder, is so terribly disapproved of, not to mention illegal.

Cara nodded, a slight, curt nod. Clicking her own speaking button, she offered first a polite smile. "Indeed, but for a nation that shares increasingly close ties to one who speaks so ill of the UN, you talk much like they do. International approval and legality have never been the concern of the Imitoran people, nor will it be in any name of the refuges. Our ICE and Border Security Agency have managed to keep the tieds of boat people away in the past, I doubt that any more would phase them much." A click, and her voice was hidden away again.

"A little stand offish?" Irving asked, leaning in close.

"No more than usual. Besides. They are refugees, they don't have a home. But they wont have one in Imitora. Not my fault they didn't fight harder for their homes, or thier distaste of their own home drives them away so." Cara's words were suprisingly cold, but not when considering they were comming from an Imitoran.

As the Tanaran left, Cara simply shrugged. "Standard diplomatic affair. Can't get their way, so they storm off in a huff. People say we are difficult."

"Peter, Boris, I think your claim to the remainder of your island, provided you allow the survivors to have a participation in the reconstruction of their homes, and a claim to said homes, is an excellent notion, and I fully support it."

Boris and Peter simply nodded in response. They didn't have anything to add and Assington was more than able to manage the situation itself without the help of other nations. More likely than not they would gain many more citizens and resources with this expansion. Some of the land would also prove useful for weapons testing facilities and other such designated scientific areas.

Watching as Shalamar simply disappeared, Boris and Peter gave eachother a questioning look. Peter finally spoke.

"Does it bother you somewhat that we're dealing with people that can simply disappear at will?"

Peter nodded.

"Yeh, it's something I'm afraid we'll have to get used to. Us normal humans seem to be a minority these days."

"Oh well, at least we managed to show up. I guess we'll just sit back for now and see if anything of significance happens."

"I think this settles everything for now." Aeris spoke, "Unless someone else would like to say something?"

She thought about Arithon's latest reply. She wondered just how much more his greed would urge him to take hold of other lands and possessions. She didn't like the idea of a permanent foothold on this world for demonic entities, but she also knew, and especially with the results of the war as it ended, that it was possible to restrict their movements, restrict their growth.

As she looked around the table at each person, wondering if they'd take the time to speak, she made an oath to herself, an oath that so long as she and her kin were alive, there would be absolutely no more growth of demonic holdings.

"Unless someone else would like to say something?"


Actually, Aeris, I had several more points of concern that I wished to bring up to the region" Mercy stood and waited for a second as the others at the table focused on her. "I wished to bring up the subject of the volcanic island in the center of the Indotenaur Sea"

She used the elvish name - Heart of Fire - for the great inland sea that reached deep into the heart of the Fatal Terrain continent. "The island lies outside conventional oceanic limits and I'm not sure if any Fatal Terrain nation should claim it. I have been approached by an interantional body of scientists who wish to see the region place the island under protected statuss, as an International ecosystem preserve. They are very concerned about the state of the island and the effect that the Dark War had on it."

She hoped that she could get the other nations to agree to signing a treaty that would declare the island such. 'There are the papers they have prepared and their suggestions for implimenting such a plan at each nations section. Might I suggest we break for lunch before discussing this proposal?"

"Actually," Cara interjected, "why wait? We have finger foods here, no need to really dismiss for a meal when we can discuss the island issue now."

She didn't recognize the name used, it wasn't in any of the languages she knew, but then, very rarely would something going by its native name be in a common language. However, what ever it was called, it could be usefull and a point of possible profit.

"Research is good and nice, yes, but what about other options? Possible resort grounds for the beaches, maybe a bit more inland a good game preserve. Good hunting for that which one wouldn't normally get on their own turf. I'm sure there are more possibilities to vote on than just research. Maybe divide up portions of the island for individual use, give a small bit to each nation to use how they see fit."

Mercy looked at Cara "I am ameniable to not recessing for lunch, if the others agree." However the rest of Caras proposal had her eyes growing stern. "I don't think that dividing the island up into parcels for nations to exploit is adviseable. The eco-system there is not that hardy - it was badly damaged during the war."

"if you'd review the studies you'd see that useing it as some sort of canned hunting ground would not really be feasable." Her tone carried a world of digust. Canned hunts in Tanaara were anathema, and the predators in Tanaara had nearly as good a chance of bagging said hunter as the hunter had.

Upon mention of the island in question, Boris brought up all relevant information he could find upon his computer screen, scanning over a brief description and whilst Peter gazed upon a map of the region. Deciding he'd read enough, Boris waited for his MoD to complete his study of the map.

"I can't foresee us having any particular use or interest for the island. I'm sure some group of scientists would be overjoyed if we threw it at them."

"Agreed, we'll need to see the details of this proposal though."

"Of course."

Activating his speaker, Boris managed to squeeze in a few words before Cara replied to Mercy.

"Assington would be happy to sign off on such a document, assuming it is to our liking. We have no intended use for that island and are happy to see it preserved for research purposes."

"Far from a closed hunt," Cara replied, but she wouldn't push that specific issue further.

"I just don't see a need to turn over what could be perfectly good land to use over to a bunch of scientists to learn what they could learn in the Arithonian waste lands or any part of Tarlachia that was infected. How about sending them into the Black Castle, our strike teams made fairly good work of securing that specific site."

Irving's eyes went somewhat dim at that mention. He had been their, he had led one of the three Detachment teams that had gone from room to room, killing anything that wasn't a human, looking for Abadon or the other marked opportunity targets. He had lost two men in the clearing, among the other Imitoran dead. His brother had been amongst the Pathfinders sent as the primary engagement force, and had lost a leg in the battle. He was working well with the new prosthetic, but still.

"Basically," Cara cut back in, "I just feel that we could find a good chunk of land as such to be far more usefull than just for studying. Put away a small parcell, by all means. But as a whole, lets not throw away an opportunity here."

"So a nation of refugees won't take in any refugees." Her voice contained no censure, merely an amused coldness. "That’s fine, your people will be what they fled from. I've seen it happen often enough."

"My people Empress, have already done more than plenty than those they fled from. In their lands, our presence alone was punishable by death, and yet here in our lands, we allow all sorts of races to live. However, I refuse to jeopardize the well being of my nation for these pathetic souls."

She turned cold eyes to Samantha "And you claim to be an Angel? I can well guess you got kicked out for failing your kindness, charity, tolerance and comforting the oppressed exams."

Samantha look defiantly into Shalamar's eyes, and with a cold voice she addressed the lady of Cats Keep, "Milady, I was not cast out of the heavens, I was ordered by the powers that be to descend into the lands following Parcellow Grey to make sure that the nation did not descend into chaos. I am to remain in command until the nation stabilizes itself to a point where they can hold elections once again. So speak softly of these accusations you would cast, for all of us are made of glass, and it is not the best course of action to cast stones that are easily returned."

She used the elvish name - Heart of Fire - for the great inland sea that reached deep into the heart of the Fatal Terrain continent. "The island lies outside conventional oceanic limits and I'm not sure if any Fatal Terrain nation should claim it. I have been approached by an international body of scientists who wish to see the region place the island under protected status, as an International ecosystem preserve. They are very concerned about the state of the island and the effect that the Dark War had on it."

With the lady of Cats Keep now gone, Samantha was feeling a little less edgy. Though Arithion remained, she could at least take him for what he was, a demon lord, and could expect him to act accordingly, but she wasn't sure what to make of Shalamar. Regardless, she was feeling slightly hungry and was keen on correcting that.

"I agree with Cara, with food readily on hand, there is no need to break. As for the island, the benefits of the proposed research I think outweigh any profits that would come if we were to split the land into individual sections and do with them as we would. I am behind the team getting the island one hundred percent."

"I don't see a problem with setting up half the island for pleasure hunting, and creating a buffer zone for a safety feature. The other half can go to scientific studies. If they have justifiable cause to have need to go into hunting lands, then they will show such and go at their own risk. However, I think that whichever side visitors choose to use, they must respect and help protect the ecosystem. All visitors must register their presence and intended use of the island with the offices to be set up on each side of the island."

Aeris looked around at the others, then stopped at Cara. "The black castle no longer stands. Your people made quite sure of that. Turath is rebuilt anew. Plus, I was sure as hell not going to have any remnant of Abaddon's reign."

Her intended speech finished, she sat back and held a slight hand up for Toreli to approach, and a whisper given into her ear. Within minutes, the handmaiden had returned with a plate of cut fruits, of which Aeris ate at slow pace.

Arithon didn't really care for the island in the slightest. He'd been mildly aware that his actions had influenced it in some manner, but he simply considered that a little collateral damage, not that there wasn't already enough of that. Not bothering to use his microphone, Arithon simply projected his voice across the room once the others had finished speaking.

"If the land has been tainted my a demonic presence, I would suggest you do not turn it into a hunting reserve or before long you'll find yourselves being the prey. Of course it's up to you, if you want to send your people to their deaths then by all means, go ahead."

Whilst it wasn't necessary to warn them about the possible dangers of such a venture, Arithon was attempting to come across as at least somewhat reasonable, even if on many occasions he was not.

The potential for animals to mutate if they lived in a land tainted by demonic essence wasn't that likely, usually they would just die. Of course the possibility existed though, in which case it the island may be of some interest to Arithon.

Mecy had been making entires unobtrusively upon a data pad while the others spoke, but stopped as the signal that she a message caught her eye. She opened it, read the information within and sat back frowning for a second,then sent a reply

Apparently a return reply came quickly for when Arithon finished speaking she stood and addressed the others. "I have recieved an offer from the Tanaran Empire to purchase the island from the nations of Fatal Terrain. If we have questions there is a representative of the Empire waiting in the antechamber who would be glad to respond to those questions."

She sat back down and Raven leaned over, his voice a whisper as he looked towards the sealed doors "Who?'

"Perigrine" Mercy answered back her voice as soft. The Tanarans had not once raised the privacy shields and thus those with exceptional hearing could have over heard.

Raven flinched at her reply. even he was not that comfortable around the Nietzschean.

Cara spoke up quickly at the notice, making sure she knew the situation fully.

"Exactly how much is being offered, per nation?"

Peregrine. Strange she would show up now to claim an island that has no discernable interest to the Tanaran Empire beyond preservation means.

She looked over at Mercy, thinking to herself for a moment as she also listened to Cara's inquiry. It was a good question, but there was still another question to also be answered.

"Show her in. I'd like to know why the Tanaran Empire wishes to secure the island for their own use." Aeris instructed. Although she was friends with Peregrine, she was one of those kind of "shady" characters that she could not truly discern the objectives swirling within her mind.

She is Perigrine Omega, and here that is ever all that has been important. She needs no other defining names or labels, though she carries them.

She is Nietzschean - Homo Sapiens Invictus- and that is power sufficient unto any day, any universe. She is the only pure blooded Nietzschean in this universe, the only scion of a race created by man to out do man -and did, as humans- mere Homo Sapiens Sapiens - learned to their destruction and enslavement in her universe of origin.

She sat calmly in the chair waiting to learn if there would be a favorable response to her offer. Her posture was erect but not stiff, and there was about her a profound stillness. Not the purposeful stillness of a predator waiting to strike, for the truly aware would sense that, if but dimly. Samadhi, the stillness of mind and body in perfect harmony, an infinitely deep pool that took in all but reflected nothing back that would impinge on the awareness of others. A mind discipline ingrained in her from birth deep into blood, bone and the oldest recesses of the mind by training that would have and had killed those lesser than she. Perigrine had waited for days steeped in that perfect nothingness for targets to enter her range, and not a one of those targets had ever been aware of her in the last instants of their lives.

Neitzschean senses picked up the vibrations of her commo unit before the audio signal engaged, and she tabbed the bracer on her left forearm. Upon reading the message displayed she stood with unhurried, fluid grace.

Crossing to the previously sealed doors she strode into the conference room, keen eyes missing no detail however minute. Her movemnets were those of what she was, an apex predator moving midst those she knew down to her very soul were not her equals. A superiority that was so inherently natural that there was no arrogance about her- but then again she was a Nietzschean and apparently didn't bother to notice how such affected others - and any one who thought that didn't know Neitzscheans.

She wore comfortable clothes of excellent tailoring, and did not bother to conceal the weapons she carried. Amber eyes, with oval pupils like those of a great cat gazed levely at the rulers of the various nations of Fatal Terrain as she stopped at a comfortable distance. She nodded in greeting to Mercedez and Aeris, both of whom knew her from their dealings with the Tanaran Empire.

"Peregrine Omega." Aeris began as she looked upon the Nietzschean with an equally cool and calculated look. She had previously encountered the superiority complex that Peregrine either consciously or unconsciously flaunted, and let it slide without challenge. She was indeed of a unique race, but Aeris had her own thoughts on the actual definition of superiority. Now, however, was not the time for that discussion.

"Please inform us why the Tanaran Empire seeks possession of the island in question."

A map hologram appeared in the center, and a light yellow glow surrounded the perimeter of the island in the center of the inland sea.

With a brief, regal inclination of her head the Nietzschean agreed to respond to Aeris's question. Her stance was not military in any way, nor was it in any way slouched. She stood as she had sat earlier, erect but not stiff, and still, with no fidgeting or unconscious movements. So perfectly proportioned was she that she seemed less than her six foot three height.

Perigrine addressed Aeris, and the others. "Thank you for agreeing to allow me to present my case." Her voice, a cool alto with but the faintest traces of an alien - and attractive - accent, projected easily through out the room without being raised. Perigrine was comfortable within herself, undaunted by being the focus of attention.

"The Dowager Empress, Ambassadress Michiko Jones was somewhat imprecise in the wording of her message. The Tanaran Empire does not seek possession of the island. I do. The Empire shall be merely providing the purchase price once it is agreed upon." Her glance swept over the group.

Hmmm. Politicing with the best of them, Cara mused.

"Thats well and interesting, but you haven't answered the question. Well, in theory, if you are to play the smart ass, then yes you have. But, you didn't answer the question that was meaning to be asked."

Cara paused, taking a sip of water. "Why do you want to purchase the island? And again, exactly how much are you offering? I understand the the price has to be agreed upon, but lets get at least a base line minimum offer. We can work our way up from there."

'If it was meaning to be asked then why wasn't it'Pergrine thought with a mental shrug. The Nietzschean merely cocked her head slightly as the Imitoran First Speaker continued, questioning the why of her, Perigrine's desire to own the island. She'd give them reasons they could comprehend.

"I wish a place for my family and I to live in peace, undisturbed by and undisturbing of others. additionally, It would allow my children to study the on going affects of various forces on the islands geological, biological and botanical features."


"And to the best of my knowledge there is no 'again'. " Perigrine looked towards Mercedez. Her smile at the Imitoran's greed was all internal, never disrupting the composure of her features. "Your Majesty, did the Ambassadress make an initial offer?"

"Mercedez, shook her head. "No no offer has yet been made" She looked over at Cara, and raised an eyebrow at the First Speakers impatience to make a profit off something that was in the end neither hers or her nations. She did have to wonder at why the Empire hadn't just claimed it willy nilly, and then wondered if they weren't prepared to do just that if things went south.

Aeris nodded as the clarification was made. She looked around for a moment, then spoke with her gaze meeting Peregrine's own. She keyed the switch.

"Considering that the Tanaran Empire has not requested any sort of repayment, and this being the first request for anything out of this region, I don't see this as an unreasonable request. In lieu of the aforementioned plans for the island, I propose we as a region accept this rather humble request and take whatever payment we all decide upon, to be split evenly."

Cara seemed to nod an an unheard comment. "Its acceptable, should the payment be acceptable. Since you seem to be the type who must be asked everything, for not mroe than the sake of simple feeling superior, I'll give. What," she said, almost sarcastically, "are you offering as payment, per nation."

Perigrine gave Cara a serene look, ignoring the sarcasm completely "Given the nature of the island, that of a ..." Sensitive Neitzschean senses picked up the first minute tremblors "Early" She said under her breath, then in her normal voice "...No longer dormant volcano"

Now the second ripple in the earth hit, not strong enought to do more than make the hanging lights sway gently, and the crystal water tumbers dance in place.

"There was roughly five hundred and seventy six thousand acres of at least minimally arabale land on that island. I am making only a minor assumption in thinking that acerage has just diminished, and not insignificantly. " Perigrine said drily "I am still willing make an offer of five million seven hundred and six thousand total to each nation that has shown enough concern for their region to participate in the conference."

Cara looked over at Irving, who whipsered something in her hear. Math had never been the First Speaker's strong suite, but Irving had always been able to do quick calculation directly in his head. "Nine ninety an acre?" Cara asked. Irving whispered a few more words to her.

"Thats it? I would think you would offer something a bit more than just ten an acre. I understand your offering to each, but if you are dipping into the coffers of a nation as powerful as it is, I think they could dust more off the books. Afterall, even used military testing ground in Imitora sells at around 1900 an acre. And that is land that is far from areable. I think a more appropriate amount would be, say, four hundred an acre. After all, I could match and beat the amount offered per nation, and the land means nothing to me."

Boris half kept his attention on the ensuing conversation whilst he scribbled down notes for Peter to read. Neither of them really cared for the squabble that appeared to be growing with each word and Assington had no particular interest in the island either. After several minutes, Boris finally spoke.

"Let's just go along with whatever happens, the sooner this island is not an issue the better."

"Agreed."

With no argument between the pair, Boris promptly activated his speaker and addressed the others.

"Assington has no interest in this island and will settle for whatever everyone agrees upon. To be honest it's not really a concern of ours at all, we've never considered it part of our nation and thus not ours to sell."

Boris was quite aware that his words may lead to Assington not receiving any payment from the sale of the island, but he wasn't too concerned. Five million was pocket change to the Assingtonian economy so he figured it wouldn't make much difference either way.

Perigrine inclined her head to acknowledge Assington's Presidents comments. However inside she was wondering if all but Mercy and Aeris were exceptionally unobservant. Mercy was making hasty entries into her data interface and looking towards Aeris with concern in her eyes. Perigrine knew that the Tarlachians and the Tanaaran's would be sensitive to it as only those who'd survived the grazer created mega quake that announced the the true start of the Dark War.

A third sine wave rippled through the room as Perigrine began to frame her reply to the Imitoran First Speaker. She began by requesting a hologram displaying the data feed from her ship currently in a low earth lagrange position. The visuals of the eruption of Barad Dur Naur were spectacular, rivalling anything Mauna Loa ever produced.

Barad Dur Naur, Elvish for the Tower of Dark Fire...Rising gradually to more than five kilometers above sea level, Barad Dur Naur is the largest volcano on the planet, and the largest individual mountain, over 26,000 cubic miles. However it is one of the least known by the general public, given it's remoite location, and it's long dormancy. Barad Dur Naurs long submarine flanks descend to the sea floor an additional six kilometers, and the sea floor in turn is depressed by Barad Dur Naur's great mass another eight kilometers. This makes the volcano's summit about nineteen kilometers - nearly fifty seven thousand feet- above its base. The enormous volcano covers half of Barad Dur Naur, and it was readily apparent that there were multiple now active craters. The summit crater had data available - it coverd roughly four square miles and laser probes had put the caldera as being over five thousand feet deep.

"One billion Imitoran credits or the equivallent in Empire technology. " Perigrine Omega stated calmly as with interested eyes she watched the spectacular eruption. "Each" She clarified, and her attitude said that was her final offer. She didn't really care about the price, money didn't much matter to her, and the funds were available. She was tired of negotitating with Cara.

Raven, who'd been sitting quietly next to Mercy, had merely shifted his center of balance slightly when the seismic activity caused by the volcano's erutpion shuddered through the Grand Library. However Perigrines offer of 'one billion Imitoran Credits or the equivallent in Empire technology' brought his eyes flashing to the Neitzschean.

He spoke up, his tone sharp, in a language that other than Perigrine none there spoke. "Nill r'Mid'guard, nill r'Karasu? M' rianov mnhei'sahe..."

Perigrine's lips drew back in that move that imitated a smile, but any other predator knew as a threat, and answered in English as one long finger tapped her heart, as a fencer acknowledged a hit. " Careful Grendel, but you are correct...for mnhei'sahe I offer technology that is purely and solely mine. Including the terraforming technology, but not" and there she turned and looked at Arithon "The genetic. " She refused to let the demon lord get his hands on that.

She'd seen, on the battlefields of the Dark War, examples of his various experimenting. It was hit or miss to a great degree and she didn't want him to have any access to technological refinements because of her.

Their flight had been a long one, not to mention dangerous. While the fledgeling Argonian government had been able to scramble a small Gulfstream aircraft for the flight to International Isle, despite warnings to the contrary by numerous field commanders in the Argonian National Army, it had nearly been shot down by a captured Stinger SAM. Since Red Dawn International had gone belly-up, caches of high-quality arms were suddenly appearing everywhere, a gunrunner's wet dream. While the government had taken advantage of the everything-must-go prices, so had the anti-modernist insurgents.

Being a newly-developed government, there wasn't much of an international relations department. Instead, they'd sent one of their brightest Captains to do what he could. Still dressed in worn tiger-stripe fatigues and hastily-shined jungle-boots, Captain Soto Reeven had been in the field some eight hours earlier on a patrol with his infantry company. As a matter of courtesy, he'd left the body armor, assault rifle, and sidearm back at headquarters. His escort, however, a powerfully-built Argonian Sergeant First Class named Kreets, still had his third generation Glock 21 holstered on his thigh. He'd tried, but nothing short of a direct order was going to get that thing off of his person, and Kreets wasn't under his command. Standing a bit taller than CPT Reeven, Kreets also wore a slightly matted green beret. Nearly everthing the Argonian National Army did was patterned in some way, shape, or form after the workings of the US Army, it seemed.

Why they'd stuck a Special Forces soldier with him was beyond Reevan, they were better suited to fighting the insurgents on their own terms and not doing protective details with travelling officers. After all, he'd seen some heavy combat and could take care of himself.

Soto knew they were going to be late before they'd even left the ground. It had taken the grounds crew an hour to prep the damn thing, and even then his chopper hadn't dropped him off at Grayrock International Airport until an hour later. The missile attack hadn't helped things, but at least the plane had landed in one piece. The unlikely pair hustled from the airstrip at something less than an airborne shuffle, trying in vain to make up for some lost time. Calling ahead was out of the question apparently, judging by the way they'd yanked him out of the field and thrown him on a jet the government didn't have some twenty-eight hours prior.

As they reached the entrance to the most magnificent building Soto had ever seen, he paused to inquire about the location of the diplomatic event. The two of them headed for the main library, which seemed a logical choice for such a meeting. Soto's mind had been mentally kicking himself in the tail for not even asking about wearing his dress uniform, instead of rolling into a high-profile meet-and-greet looking like he'd just stepped off of the front lines. The sad part was that that wasn't far from the truth.

Soto just hoped that they'd avoid turning any heads too far as they tried their best to make a discreet entrance...

The General had been advised that a jet, IFFing the nation of Argonia had entered the International Isles airspace, and had landed, depositing a pair of Argonians. Argonians who seemed to be fresh off the battle field. "I though Argonia had dissolved into clashing tirbes, family clans." She swore to her aide.

He double checked with Mycroft and nodded that is the last reliable data we have, that the survivors seemed to be making hteir way to the southern edge of the mainland in small family groups."

"Don't let them into the Grand Library until I get there! I want explainations and assurances before they get anywhere near the delegates."

"Yes Ma'am, orders out and acknowledged." Her flag lieutenant as he mentally reached out and passed the orders along to the troops on duty at the Grand Library."

Before the two wandering Argonians could get close to the vast double doors leading to the Conference room, numerous Tanaran troops had appeared and blocked their way. The senior officer, a captain of obviously elvin extraction andvised the pair that they would need to wait to be vetted.

"Captain, Sergeant, I am Captain Santa'al of the Tanaran Empire and we are acting as security for the conference. I must ask you to accompany me to a waiting room. The General will meet with you there. I have been advised that she is enroute and will be with you momentarily."

Before he could escort them into the side room that he had indicated a trio appeared out of thin air. The General Merrideth Hexx who was The Captain of the Five oh First, her aide, and a very tall gentleman who stepped forward first and spoke in Argonian. "Are you of the Hands of Makaal or a follower of theirs?"

His tone was wary and his manner was that of one for whom this first exchange was very important. A large matrix, crystal, silver, blue and gold, hung at this throat. Daveed Arial Roth had fought along side the modernist forces for a time, and had been very saddened to learn that Argonia wracked by civil war had fallen under the hands of Arithon and his demons.

His abilities would now tell him wether the pair spoke the truth and their intent towards those in attendance at the conference.

Captain Reeven was surprised, more taken aback than anything. This man, or elf, as he appeared, spoke better Argonian than he, he'd been speaking English for so long...

"Makaal? It seems my homeland has been in isolation for far too long. I speak English, too, if that's any easier..."

There really hadn't been much contact outside of the marshes for some time...

"There was a modernization effort about five years ago, an attempt to bring our people out of the stone age and into a state where we could hope to defend ourselves against foreign invaders. That sparked a civil war between the followers of the 'Old Ways' as they call them, mostly Makaalites, and the new government which we represent..."

The Captain paused...

"But I forget my manners, sir. I'm Captain Soto Reevan of the Argonian National Army, Twenty-First Mechanized Infantry Division. This is Sergeant First Class Ryker Kreets, First Special Forces Division. We've been dispatched to learn a bit more about regional politics. According to the brief dossier I read on the flight over the only documented visits to foreign nations have been by former Longhunters and the renegade Whiptail Longtail. The current president wishes to change this, to take a more active role. We, and by we I mean the military, would like to know why we've got what look like demons wandering over our northern borders..."

Reevan remembered that his silent shadow was still packing...

"Is he going to be okay wearing that thing around?"

The Captain gestured at the .45 Glock on Kreet's right thigh...

"I'm not really sure myself why they assigned him to me. Usually Keyton Kerrich's folks are more at home hunting insurgents in the swamps at not on diplomatic protection detail..."

I'm not really sure myself why they assigned him to me. Usually Keyton Kerrich's folks are more at home hunting insurgents in the swamps at not on diplomatic protection detail..."

Daveed switched to English "Pleased to meet you Captain Reevan, Sergeant Keets. I'm Doctor Daveed Arial Roth. I worked with Drill Sergeant Keyton Kerrich and Lieutenant Ulkeen for a time about five years ago. His people I trust completely." He then introduced the Tanaran officers, explaining that the Instellar Empire of Tanara had been asked to provide the security as they were a neutral party but had interests in the region due to their extensive participation in the Dark War.

"And don't worry about weapons, Perigrine Omega is in there now and if weapons were a problem." Daveed shrugged. Catching their looks he half explained "It's against a Nietzschean's religion, or would be if they had one, to go unarmed.

He turned to the General "I think our information on Argonias demise is more than a little premature." He concentrated, his eyes glazing slightly with a 'far and away' look that vanished after a few seconds. He'd contacted Lady Shalamar and gotten assurances from her that the volcano's current erruptions were slowing for the time being. "I think thats the last siesmic tremmors we're going to have for a while. Barad Dur Naur is tired for the day it seems"

"And our two newest delegates should be taken into the conference." He turned back to Captain Reevan. "You all missed some small quakes, the island in the center of the inland sea is not as dormant a volcano as they thought it was."

The General nodded but turned to the Argonian Captain "Captain Reevan, would you come speak to me after the conference ends for the day? If you have demons on your northern borders we really need to know about this, and such small tidbits of information as to where the Argonian people have set up being a nation. The last information we has was that your lands were along the west, north west rim of the Arithon waste, and when that border expanded the Argonian lands were swallowed. I'd like, and I think the other nations of Fatal Terrain would like, to be able to update the maps.

Reevan had heard a few stories about this Roth character, mostly from his first platoon platoon sergeant, SFC Artek. It seemed that Roth had run some operations with Kerrich in the past...

"Last I heard of DS Kerrich he was the chief instructor at the new special warfare school. I'll be sure to let him know you survived. And about the demons, it's not much of an issue. M2 machine guns usually work better than holy water anyhow..."

As for the map question, he had no idea. They'd flown outwards on an easternly quadrant, so he figured they'd settled in the west. Pirates were becoming an issue, especially since they'd allied with the anti-modernist insurgents...

"We've been getting reports of pirate activity along our coastline, if that's any help. They've gotten in pretty well with the rebel insurgents recently, but we're currently trying to get a navy up and going to combat this threat..."

Argonians were more at home in the water anyway, and what few reports he'd read were promising. That sector of the special operations community was going to be something to be reckoned with...

"Can we start towards the delegation, now?"

The Captain seemed anxious to get started with the diplomatic portion of the meeting. He'd recently recieved an associate's degree from the Univeristy of Pheonix Online in Diplomatic Relations, and while not exactly known for such courses of study, it was the closest thing that the Argonian people had to a university at this point. The capitol, Grayrock was in the process of getting a college set up, but like most of the ambitious projects the government had in mind, they couldn't be completed in a timely manner unless the insurgency either ended or slowed down enough to get contractors on site...

Daveed gave the General a subtle nod. He'd found no falisty or danger in his unnoticeable psi-scan of the two Argonians. General Hexx made minute shooing motions with her left hand and Davieed's smile was broad as he answered the Captain's question.

"Can we start towards the delegation, now?"

"Certainly. The Great Hall is just down this hallway." He answered as he began escorting the pair along the magnificant broad corridor lined with museum quality dispalys of art and artifacts. Behind them the General's aide hastily contacted Queen Mercedez of Tanaara (http://www.atddm.com/mmx1.gif) to advise her of the Argonina delegations arrival.

In the Great Hall Mercy's eyes widened and she flashed the information to Aeris. Then she issued sotto voiced orders to her aides who sprang into discrete but frantic activity. They selected the section that had been originally reserved for Calisdrun- the Calisdrunian Princess had decided to not attend the conference and had sent word just as Mercy was set to nmake her opening presentation. Hastily they placed fresh packets of information, blank PDA's, pens and paper tablets, and reprogrammed the display information, but left it blank for the moment.

Out in the hallway Daveed nodded to the double pair of guards who were present at the vast doors, and threw them open, stepping aside so that the Argonians could enter.

Mercy stood as they did, hiding a smile as the others in the room didn't know where to put their attention- they quiet but hurried actions of her aides, the last offer of Perigrine Omega, the mesmerizing hologram of the volcanic eruption - though that seemed to be dieing down - her standing up or the entry of a pair of Argonians.

"Lady Omega, my apologies, but...Friends, delegates, neighbors, it seems that my opening presentation was inaccurate. Captain Soto Reevan and Sergeant First Class Ryker Kreets have been sent to be delegates by the Argonian government." Queen Mercedez (http://www.atddm.com/mmx1.gif) walked over and extened her hand in greeting, a warm smile lighting her face.

Aeris had felt the first sets of tremors from the far-away island and even now she registered concern in her mind. The island was much closer to Tarlachia than this international isle, and thus, if there were an eruption, there was a strong likelihood that Tarlachia would be affected somehow.

Glancing at a smaller screen in front of her detailing the volcano's geography, courtesy of Tanaran terrain scanning devices, she processed a few thoughts regarding the matter.

The offer of one billion monetary units caught her attention by surprise, although she had been giving an ear to the discussions. Looking up at Peregrine, she raised an eyebrow. That's...a hell of an raise...

A few moments later, the arrival and subsequent introduction of the Argonians was made known, and Aeris stood to greet them with a silent nod. Argonians...I thought they had all but died out?

Watching as they took their seats, she seated herself and keyed the holo-screen in front of her, pulling up the latest information on the Argonian society. Close enough. she realized as she surveyed the information. But it appears they have a knack for survival.

With their position clear, Boris and James continued to pay attention to the conversation as the browsed through files regarding several other issues, many to do with the nature of the demons and how best to combat them. Whilst many other nations of Fatal Terrain had some, if not extensive experience when it came to combating this foe, Assington had none and they had no intention of being caught with their pants down if it came to a fight.

Going over a detailed file of the basic demonic grunt encountered throughout the recent war, Boris promptly directed his full attention back to the conversation at hand when he heard mention of such a large sum of money.

"That is strange..."

Peter nodded, his attention also focused upon Peregrine.

"Makes me wonder about what is so important about that island."

"Indeed."

Following the references to the volcano and noting the tremors, Boris pulled up a real time satellite image of the island, noting the eruption and various geological activity.

"I can't see it being of any real use anymore."

At that point, the conference was introduced to two newcomers, Argonians. Boris and Peter had never seen an Argonian before and were somewhat fascinated. There had been reported cases of the lizard-like creatures visiting Assington before, yet they were quite rare.

"Today is just full of surprises."

Peter simply nodded silently as he watched the pair move further into the conference hall.

"but not" and there she turned and looked at Arithon "The genetic. " She refused to let the demon lord get his hands on that.

Arithon merely flashed Peregrine a somewhat smug grin, not bothering to say anything for several moments. He was well aware she'd been able to clone several little pets out of Abaddon's DNA, that didn't mean she knew the first things about demonics though. To begin with, Arithon's creatures were an entirely different breed and far older than the demons tied to this planet.

Whilst one would certainly be able to clone an Arithonian demon, there is only so much one can falsely replicate. A lot of Arithonian breeds drew their true power from their connection to the world of Arithon, not from particular combination of genes.

"If I wanted a room full of microscopes and expensive toys, I could acquire them myself. I'm far more content with my means, it adds a personal touch that is not possible with your... machines."

It was obvious from his tone of voice that Arithon didn't hold technology in high regard, even if it posed the biggest opposition to any of his operations on the planet, he'd existed four countless millennia without it and would continue to do things his way.

The arrival of the Argonians was somewhat interesting for Arithon as he considered the possibilities of fusing some of the warrior lizard's traits into some new demon breeds.

Captain Reevan extended his own hand to meet that of the Queen's, using the other to quickly remove the patrol cap from his head and stuff it into a cargo pocket...

"M'lady, it is with great pleasure that I recieve your friendship. I also wish to introduce my accomplice, Sergeant Kreets..."

His other hand, now free, gestured towards the silent soldier behind him...

"I'm afraid he's not much of a talker. Trust me, I tried on our way over..."

Jokes were a way of breaking the ice, but then again the Argonian people were never known for their sense of humor. Kreets remained silent throughout the exchange, reguarding the Queen with a solem nod. Reevan was there for the talking, Kreets had just tagged along to make sure the good captain remained breathing long enough to make the needed diplomatic connections and then return home to report his progress...

"Are these the other delegates?"

The Captain returned the nod of the Tarlachian delegate, he'd never set foot in their nation before, nor did he know of anyone who had, but that might soon change. The odd-looking man further across the table must be Arithon, if the dossier he'd reviewed was current. He was eyeing Kreets in an odd fashion, probably wondering what he was capable of. Perhaps speculating on genetic possibilites? There had been trials in the past before the modernization reguarding that sort of thing with mixed results. Reevan didn't look forward to dealing with that sort of thing again, at least this time there was an army to stand up to the likes of such mutations.

The two Argonians seated themselves in their appointed place, Reevan beginning to stare at the volcano in the middle of the room, which appeared to be a hologram, but highly detailed unlike any sort of projection he'd ever seen. He imagined Kreets was wondering about the sort of weapons technology these people posessed...

Mercy's eyes had twinkled at Captain Reevan's comment concerning Sergeant Kreets silence.

"I'm afraid he's not much of a talker. Trust me, I tried on our way over..."

"Oh it's my experience that the silent ones are the most observant and the most dangerous."


"Are these the other delegates?"

Mercy waited to answer that until the Argonians had seated themselves and she returned to the Tanaaran section of the circular table.

"Yes. And I'll start at the front of the alphabet. We decided that it was the most diplomatic way to handle things.”

She turned towards Arithon…

This is Lord Arithon of the Arithon Waste.” The demonic being resembled a man. He had chosen to stand a towering six feet eight inches, and his skin was quite dark, bordering on being of African blood and covering a body bound in muscle. Arithon’s straight hair was shoulder length and he wore a crimson robe decorated in golden patterns of a demonic nature.

Mercedez continued…

“From Assington, President Boris Lepedius and his Minister of Defense, Peter Durden.” Both men were clad in very casual clothes. President Boris wore a pair of jeans and long sleeved, collared shirt. Peter had chosen a t-shirt, partly hidden by a brown leather jacket and he too was wearing jeans.

“Her Majesty Samantha, Queen of Blue Anthem.” The young angel was in a casual loose skirt and blouse in white that matched her wings, and her hair was up in a loose ponytail.

“Lady Shalamar of Cats Keep is currently absent” Here she was interrupted. “Oh I’ may not be present but that doesn’t mean I’m not paying attention to whats going on.” Came a voice out of thin air. Mercy shook her head, but a faint grin graced her lips.

Mercy moved on introducing the President of the Central Worlds, Anita Chung. She wore a severe, business style pants suit of soft grey and her ever present wrist comp. Queen Lauralin Silverleaf of Dragons Reach was a curvaceous emerald eyed vampiress with all but floor length flame red hair. She was clad in a stunning gown of pale blue satin. Her Defenders symbol - a silver oak leaf, inlaid was a ball of flame and seeming to punch through the flame was a fist. On the leaf, under the ball of flame was one word. 'Defenders' was on the gowns right shoulder. Her father, Turquine Buccannah, King of High Port, a broad shouldered older man, with much grey lining his hair but still hard with muscle wore a somewhat old styled, though charming, court suit.

“From Imitora, First Speaker Cara Rydell ( http://www.sandrabullockguide.com/images/main.jpg ) and Mister Arron Irving ( http://www.bbc.co.uk/drama/faces/images/dennis_haysbert_large.jpg ) ” First Speaker Rydell wore a tasteful pant suit, and her hair done in a professional, discrete manner. Irving was done up similarly, a black on black suit, dark red tie, and the well polished Miami Classic over the shoulder, holding the Wilson 1911 and two extra magazines.

Mercy turned to the section past Tanaaras…
“Her Imperial Majesty Aeris Greenwood, of the Tarlachian Empire.” The Emperess, though not in her angelic form, was regal in a pair of loose fitting slacks and blouse pure white that hugged her features lightly, yet still bore Elven design for it seemed to flow off her limbs almost like water. Around her slender neck hung an elegant Elven necklace of silver set with emeralds (http://www.newline-shop.com/nlc/lotrnbnke.jpg) , significator of her right to rule. Her thick mane of deep golden
hair flowed softly about her shoulders, but parted to show an Elvin ear, revealing the other part of her heritage.

Viscountess Fritti Lightfoot of Vashnear was a catfolk, her fur a gleaming ebon, making her deep green eyes stand out. She wore a soft silken blouse and matching skort. Her long tail twitched with restrained curiosity.

Mercedez wore a flowing black on black brocade silk kimono style over robe, a hand embroidered Tanaaran Golden Phoenix its threads of pure gold covering the back completely, that draped to her knees. The softly flowing, full legged slacks she wore were of black Charmeuse silk that had been cut on the bias and all most touched the floor, hiding the fact that she was wearing black ballerina flats. A demi tiara- barely larger than the length of a ladies hand -of diamonds set in platinum graced her upswept tresses.

She finished with “and this is my co- delegate, His Grace, Duke Izanami, Lord Raven Helstrom ( http://www.atddm.com/raven2.jpg) of the Interstellar Empire of Tanara.” He was a tall man with the build of a martial artist - somewhat over six foot with dark hair and intent dark eyes. He wore a linen shirt and slacks of dark hue and a fedora sat on the table next to his place. A shoulder holster contained something long and slender of unrecognizable metals and crystals - an energy weapon of some sort. He nodded at the two Argonians in a friendly fasahion.

Reevan rose again to his feet and did his best to acknowlege everyone as they were named off, taking note of the oddly similar setup of the Imitorian diplomatic crew to their own...

"Please, continue with whatever you were discussing, I apologise for interrupting..."

The two seated themselves, Kreets' eyes rarely leaving the Wilson under the shoulder of the Imitorian. While he revered the 1911 as any disciple of combat pistolcraft would, his Glock had about double the magazine capacity of the older model handgun, and the new 'short-frame' models of the 21 were even more promising in terms of accuracy than previous incarnations. Even still, it was a professionals' tool, and probably shot a lot better. The Argonian soldier threw a respectful nod in the wearer's direction. Humans liked the shoulder rig for some reason, and so did a few Argonians, but by and large the thigh rig was the most popular. Kreets patted his plastic sidearm fondly out of habit before resting his hands on his lap.

Reevan, on the other hand, was surprised to see such a presence of weaponry at an otherwise peaceful gathering. He'd need to make note to bring his issue Para Ordnance Tac-Five along next time, if only for the purpose of fitting in. He was more interested, however, in seeing what this holographic volcano had to do with a continent-wide diplomatic conference, and why the Tanarans were so protective of their genetic technology, especially from the likes of a powerful demon lord. Reevan's paranormal encounters ended at gunning down lesser demons on the northern borders. Well, he didn't actually do the gunning, despite having a fondness for old Ma Deuce. Such things were left to the enlisted troops, and enough about that. He would need to focus on the task at hand if he was going to do his people any good. Rallied foreign support could end the civil war in the new government's favor and bring about a new age of prosperity and peace in the marshes. New enemies, however, would stretch them too thin and bring about a swift resolution in the form of total destruction of everything his race had fought so hard for over the past few years.

He would do well to keep his head in the fight before it metaphorically got shot off and literally ruined any chance of outside assistance...

Irving caught Kreets' nod, and returned with the slow, respectful nod of a fellow warrior. While they had little contact with the Argonians, many Imitorans had read stories or heard of them in battle, and held a healthy respect for the strange creatures.

Cara nodded a polite nod to the Argonian delegation as well, and greated them profesionally and with curtousy. "Captain Reevan, Sergeant Kreets, the pleasure is mine."

After the other delegates offered introduction, Cara keyed her microphone. "We find Perigrine's offer, sufficient, and acceptable."

Aeris keyed her switch a few moments later, "I find it sufficient as well. That is all for now."

The switch turned off, and she resumed studying constantly refreshing personal holograms of the island's geography. It was undoubtedly becoming active again, and a study of past activity from Tarlachian geological archives showed it spiking after the mega-quake had been detonated.

The curse of mankind. Destroy everything that has been granted to them. My people have tried to keep them from doing so, but look at them now! A number of offworld planets rumored to be destroyed beyond any use other than military tests, dead orbs that once thrived with life.

She glanced to the Imitorans for the briefest of moments, If I didn't know any better, I'd say that humanity is the scourge of the universe, the unchecked cancer that threatens to destroy the universe bit by bit.

Mercedez looked over at the Assington delegation, then at Lord Arithon before turning her attention to Queen Samantha and others around the table.

"Does that meet with your approval?"

President Anita Chung of the Central Worlds, Queen Laualin, King Turquine and Viscountess Lightfoot had said little during the earlier parts of the conference and they kept that remoteness up now as they each merely nodded their agreements.

Shalamar gave her reply, her voice again falling from empty air. "Sounds reasonable to me, especially as the island, in the end isn't any of ours - legally, and precedently, to profit from. ANd the Argonian's deserve an equal share, I think they could use it."

Once the opportunity presented itself, Boris activated his microphone and spoke.

"It is a more than generous offer that we shall accept, such funds will contribute significantly to the rebuilding of the region south of Assington."

Deactivating the mic, Boris returned his attention to Peter as they both continued to gaze upon images of the volcano.

"It may be worthwhile to keep an eye on that island. The idea that someone would pay so much for an apparently worthless piece of land is somewhat troubling."

Peter nodded, sharing many of the same thoughts.

"Indeed, I don't particularly trust this woman or her intentions."

That being said, the pair trusted Arithon even less and couldn't help but wonder why he was being treated like a legal nation ruler. His domain didn't resemble anything of a nation and his demons were certainly not ideal citizens.

Arithon found this entire charade highly amusing. He was quite aware that most, if not everyone in the room, wanted him dead and his demonic presence far away from Fatal Terrain. And yet they persisted in treating him as if he was any other political figure within the region.

"The island holds no value to me at this point in time and your money is of no value to me. I do not purchase what I want."

The meaning of said statement was quite clear and Arithon awaited the response of those around him. He'd become tired of playing the diplomat and it was now time to have a bit of fun, at everyone else's expense of course.

"The island holds no value to me at this point in time and your money is of no value to me. I do not purchase what I want."

Perigrine looked at him and gave him the same non smile she'd given the Grendel. "You may not pay money, but you pay anyway, Demon. You got your portal, but you paid for it. The lives you spent may mean nothing to you but that does not mean they were valueless. Count the cost, not the price. And as to the island not having any value to you?"

The predators baring of teeth held more than just an edge of savagery "Just remember I've come away the winner in each of my encounters with Abaddon, and I nearly sealed your portal with a Star Killer. I know now why it failed."

"And next time it won't." Her voice was cooly remote as if she were discussing somthing of the moist minimal importance. Nor did she bother to mention that the wweapon would do to the planet what it was designed to do to a star...destroy the gravity well. And the damange to the planet would be unsurviveable. That was an issue that most here probably would have taken exception to, but collateral damage had never stopped a Nietzschean yet.

"The lives you spent may mean nothing to you but that does not mean they were valueless."

Arithon gave Perigrine a smug grin, one that said he didn't take her word particularly seriously.

"Value is a subjective notion, I got what I wanted out of the situation and the cost was more than acceptable, and easily recuperated."

"Just remember I've come away the winner in each of my encounters with Abaddon, and I nearly sealed your portal with a Star Killer. I know now why it failed."

This time Arithon visibly chuckled, he wasn't quite sure if she was meant to be worrying him or simply throwing out some words and hoping they seemed coherent.

"I'll give you a hint on this one. I'm not Abaddon... he is a demon of this world and of no relation to myself. I existed long before him and will exist long after, your encounters with him mean nothing. And as for your little toys, that will not happen again."

Arithon was well aware of what the weapon had done and knowing such, would not allow it to touch his domain again. It wasn't so much that it would stop him, it was simply a nuisance that he did not need. When it came to his realm, trivial matters such as physics did not bind him, everything operated on his whim. Whilst such was not the case for the world outside his borders, he was working on that.

Cara indulged the discussion at hand, allowing Arithon and Perigrine to debate without interuption. It was always interesting to her to watch politicians bicker, offer empty threats, and make great claims, many of which never came through. Her own purpose now was set to regulate and direct the money that the Imitoran government would soon be recieving. There were some projects that need funding, and they were not the type of projects one openly campaigned for.

However, such debates had, as her research had shown, ended far more confrences on a sour note rather than accomplish anything. Cara had taken the policy that while in her personal life she could relax, her political life would be all business. She keyed her microphone, took a sip of water, and spoke.

"Please, I understand that everyone loves a good pissing match, but are you two honestly accomplishing anything? For two persons who just love to appear pragmatic, it seems that you have forgotten the purpose of such a conference. If you two would like to out side and compare the size of your egos, feel free. Those of us in here would like to get some work done."

Before Perigrine could reply Shalamar returned to the spot she'd Stepped from earlier. She ignored Cara comments, and addresssed Arithon.

"Arithon, you were invited at my request. Because legitimate 'national ruler' or not, you are a power and a presence in Fatal Terrain. And those here who haven't faced you before needed to get a good look at what you are." She said aloud then continued mentally, the sharp thought directed at Arithon alone "And you aren't the only one who is an adept at shaping reality."

And his presence her allowed her to get close to him, scanning him undetectably with her psionic senses - as well as allowing Tanaran Empire technology to get their own readings of him. He might be wearing a human suit but sensors created during the Dark War and advanced in the two yeares since then would be able to detect, recognise and analyse his unique energy signature.

She walked, her movements silent and graceful, to stand between the Tarlachian and Tanaaran sections, " And you tried us once, and while you may have gotten your portal, you haven't faced us directly. We may have differeneces among ourselves, but we will band together to take you down should we need to."

Shalamar could have advised Perigrine that Arithon wouldn't be interested in the highly advanced, even beyond the Tanaran Empire's, Nietzschean genetics technology, but then again she hadn't thought that Perigrine would offer it. The offer had her among those wondering why the Nietzschean was so interested in the island. SHe made a mental note to investigate later.

Captain Reeven's eyes narrowed during the exchange. He didn't know what a 'Star Killer' was, nor did he care to know. It didn't sound like something that needed to be used anywhere near his homeland...

"I agree with Lady Shalamar, that we would be better served to band together to recover from this god-forsaken war. I am well aware that none of our soldiers were part of the conflict, and with good reason. We have our own problems to deal with, and any assistance would be greatly appreciated, minus the demons, which we've already had enough of and will not tolerate any more of..."

He felt so small, a common captain addressing a room full of international leaders, like a child addressing a congregation of old men. Why should they consider his views on international politics? He was a soldier, a field officer, one who both gave and recieved orders, not a politician. This would be interesting...

"But back to the matter at hand. Bickering leads to more bickering, more bickering to violence, and violence to open warfare. While we are a less significant presence militarily than most, having just put down the spear for the rifle some years before your 'Dark War', we are also affected by your actions. I ask that you consider the consequences of your actions before you undertake them. Perhaps after our own problems are resolved, we can return the favor. A military build-up would be much easier if we weren't loosing a few dozen soldiers a day, and hundreds of potential recruits fighting and killing our own brothers. An outside attack, whether intended or accidental, could spell the end for my people..."

His piece spoken, Reeven fell silent, fiddling with the unfamiliar microphone in an attempt to deactivate it...

Cara clicked on her own microphone. Part of her wondered why the speaking devices had been choosen at all, it took the fun out of these sort of things.

"If the Captain would," she started, "explain the situation, I'm sure that the Imitoran people would be more than happy to help. And true, we would agree that the lesser the demons, the better. Annoying creatures, though easy enough to kill according to my friend here," she said, motioning to Irving.

"If nothing else," she concluded, "it would allow us to move on our way to a new topic."

Perigrine just rasied an eyebrow at Cara's complete misunderstanding of the exchange between her and Arithon.. Both of them had valuable insights into the other and she'd gotten her assignment done with a minimum of fuss and bother. That she'd obtained something she desired was just an added bonus.

"If you will excuse me, then I shall begin the transfer of funds to your various nations. Or as I offered, you may contact me later about techology." She nodded to those at the table and turned to leave. The nano probes had done their work just as the scientists had planned and her bracer's screen showed that all the units sent out had returned. She was already wondering how the genetics would test out.

Upon Cara's comment, Arithon simply turned to the young human and delivered her a flat stare.

"Close your mouth human, your superiors are talking and it is rude to interrupt."

Arithon did not offer any threats to Cara, yet his manner was one of complete contempt. He had no love for humans or their completely unearned high opinion of themselves.

"Arithon, you were invited at my request. Because legitimate 'national ruler' or not, you are a power and a presence in Fatal Terrain. And those here who haven't faced you before needed to get a good look at what you are."

"And so your true motives are revealed..."

Arithon said this with a sly grin, indicating he was not surprised in the slightest. He of course already knew this but he was happy to indulge Shalamar, she was a character that somewhat intrigued him and despite somewhat being on the other side of the fence most of the time, they got along.

"but we will band together to take you down should we need to."

"And what would that involve? Surely you are aware that you cannot kill me, and that's no boast, it is fact."

As Perigrine began to leave, Arithon scowled. Whilst Shalamar was able to hide her probing from him, the various sensors and various forms of technology were not so subtle, and yet Arithon had only noticed them once it had finished. More irritated with himself than Perigrine, Arithon clenched his fist and slammed down upon the desk before him, not realising the strength he had applied until wood splintered everywhere and his fist moved through the desk.

"Perigrine, I'm sure you will soon learn there is a vast difference between Abaddon and myself."

What Arithon spoke of was the fact that his demonic power had nothing to do with genetics, neither did any of his breeds. Once could obtain the physical attributes of his demons by cloning them, but a clone lacked the special connection with the realm of Arithon that only he could implement. Now amount of microscopes or lab tests could simulate that.

Taking note that others were speaking, Arithon sat and fell into silence once again. He was growing weary of this conference and the so called national leaders. In the end, they were all insignificant.

Captain Reeven addressed the Imitorian, giving up in his attempt to shut off his mic...

"Some time ago, as I mentioned, the leaders of my people saw fit for the race as a whole to leave behind what we called the 'Old Ways', and start forward on a course for modern living. Many of my people embraced this change, spurring it forward towards completion. Our efforts have been somewhat successful. The capitol is the size of some of the world's smaller cities, complete with an international-grade airport and some of the finer qualities such as excellent resturants and broadway entertainment.

There were, however, many of my people whose connection to the 'Old Ways' ran far to deep for them to sever so quickly. They took up arms against the new government, and for a while their rebellion was controlled by our superior force of arms. Until gun-runners contacted the Insurgency, supplying firepower on par with our own and turning the tide in their favor. While we have armored vehicles and aircraft, their cunning use of explosives and guerilla tactics has cut our advantage immensely. With their alliance with the pirates on the coast, their supply lines have been greatly enhanced. Our fledgeling navy is still too small to adequately patrol the entire coastline, and the army too busy with the interior to post any sort of effective watch..."

Reevan paused for a moment, considering his next statement and allowing any of the gathered diplomats to offer their insights...

"Perigrine, I'm sure you will soon learn there is a vast difference between Abaddon and myself."

The Nietzschean's eyes blazed with wierdling light and as she moved past him to leave the chamber she paused and spoke low, carrying just to Arithon. "And you will learn that there is a vast difference between Homo Sapiens Invictus, Nietzschean and Homo Sapiens Sapiens Human. You may think yourself indestructible, but nothing is."

She'd enjoyed the exchange with the Demon Lord, and was regretful that he'd probably be disinclined to meet with her again. He was some one she could consider an equal. And the potential within him was incalculable...and nearly irresistible.

She was Nietzschean, and to a Nietzschean power was the greatest attractant of all wether the Nietzschean was male or female. She had been trained since childhood, by the women of the Pride, to assess and nurture potential and power. For mating and pairings among Neitzscheans were not about love, they were about seeking out the best possible genetic matches with one's own genetics, the creation of offspring greater, more perfect than oneself. And while the outer universe saw mostly Nietzschean males going about their accumulation of power and wives, they little realized that Nietzschean women ran Nietzschean society. And Perigrine had been raised to rule - as ruthlessly, as absolutely, as dominantly as any male ever had. The one she chose to partner with would have to be able to be her equal in every way.

Shalamar had been willing to explain as much as she knew about Arithon, and offer her speculations as well. The Leronis had had much interaction with life forms from other realms, and thus her speculations were educated ones. She was quick to point out that despite what Arithon chose to look like one could never forget that he wasn't human, and must never be assumed to react in any way with which Perigrine had had experience. "From the information you've given my about your home universe, you're well used to dealing with non human intelligences, but there nothing in your universe to compare."

Perigrine kept the exchange to that one sentenc, and once the Argonian captain began to speak she moved on past Arithon and quietly left the room.

Cara would find a later time to tell Arithon, in no polite way, that he could go fuck himself. However, she had more pressing matters at hand than killing more demons. All the magic in the world hadn't protected the supposed "superiors" from the Remmington 6.8mm SPC rounds used by IMSPECWAR. They had done it before, an Imitorans would, if needed, kick ass again. She simply ignored the comment and temper tantraum from Arithon.

Instead, she turned her focus to the Argonian delegation, ignoring the demon "lord".

"So it would seem that your dealing with one of those nasty little insurgencies. The do tend to be problematic. The real question I have to ask is what level of outside involvement would be appropriate for you and your nation to accept? I would hardly want to authorize sending in a full force if all you are seeking is assitance. Nor would I want to mobilize a full fleet, when you would be more comfortable operating ships on your own, which of course we would be glad to lend."

Irving offered a slight whisper to Cara, and jotted a small note down on a piece of paper. A set of numbers, insignificant to anyone outside his previous family. She nodded, and pressed on.

"In a more simple way to ask, how can we help?"

The Tanaaran queen had let Shalamar speak for her in the reply to Arithon's taunting. She would thow the might of Tanaara against his forces any time the demon cared to test them. And she had the complete and utter backing of the Tanaran Empire on that concern.

So she turned her attention to the Argonian Captain, nodding as he spoke of his nation's dificulties.

Mercy began going over figures, and when she'd completed her assessment of the current standings she too spoke up.

"Captain Kreets, I know what trouble civil wars, coups, and unethicial arms dealers can bring." She shot Cara a venemous glance, then went back to ignoring the Imitoran First Speaker. However much she loathed the woman she wouldn't let 'personal and private' interfer with national matters, and Tanaara would offer to help as quickly as the Imitorans would. It was in her nation's nature so to speak.

"And Tanaara also offers you what aid you may need. We can also offer more than just military aid. We have advanced medical technology and other that we offer freely to our neighbors in the region."

Aeris listened as the others bickered, and yet she somehow kept herself from lashing out at Arithon. It would serve no purpose now. She looked over at the Argonians.

"I can send some assistance if you wish to deal with those pirates. I can have a deployment of ships patrolling the mouth of the inlet into the regional sea. If we catch them with stolen goods from your nation, you'll have priority on criminal charges, followed by ours if we choose to prosecute."

She looked at the map which had changed now to accommodate the discussion. "Otherwise, we'll deal with them as we see fitting for criminals caught with dirtied hands."

OOC: Been in the field for a week, sorry.

IC:

Captain Reeven reguarded her with a somewhat confused look when the topic turned to criminal charges...

"Up to this point, we have found it easier to simply kill them when we find them, to stop those we catch and discourage further participation on the part of any other potential pirates. We've got some small patrol and attack vessels, but nothing large enough to be intimidating other than the knives we issue to the new special ops troops we have deployed in the area to re-take captured ships (See Inner-Beast RP in International Incidents)..."

And back to the Imitorian...

"Nothing more than advisors would be acceptable at this point, madam. We can't have your troops dying in someone else's war. National opinion on such things tends to be a no-go..."

The support offered was indeed welcome. He didn't know, however, how benefical technology in the healing field would be to soldiers blasted apart by explosives or large-caliber gunshot wounds to the head, but they might serve their intended purpose better than he might grasp. Any new technology donated would be one less device his own people would need to develop on their own...

Nothing more than advisors would be acceptable at this point, madam. We can't have your troops dying in someone else's war. National opinion on such things tends to be a no-go..."

Mercy's eyebrows wwnt up at ther Argonian capatin's reply to Cara. Nations were all too often willing to let somebody else do the dieing.

And she could understand his slight lack of understanding at Aeris's comments on criminal charges. Tanaara hadn't had a problem with pirates since afew years after the nation was settled. The Tanaran reaction to pirates was to find them, and kill them. The few that they caputred became slaves. And while the Domination's laws dealing with slavery had changed somewhat over the years, no one in their right mind wanted to be a slave.

Trials were short, the appeals process all but nonexistant, especially now that they had enough fully trained psionics who could mind scan. Punishment carried out with equal swiftness and very publicly.

"Captain perhaps we could talk after the conference has adjourned for the day." Mercy offered.

Shalamar smiled behind her veil and asked Captain Reevan "Can the term 'Advisor' be stretched to include 'intellegence agent'?"

She prefered the term spy herself but people often got upset at her lack of pcness. But however you cut it, those of Cats Keep who had the ability to Stepp and listen where ever there was a shadow, made them the premier spies in the region. And the simple ability to read minds and communicate telepathically also shared equally in that formidible reputation.

She knew why Mercy was all but vibrating with anger, and every bit of it was directed at the Imitorans. She wondered how Myriad was progressing with his plans. She'd have a good laugh when he was through. She wouldn't have been as dipolmatic as Mercy was being, but in the end intra regional warfare wouldn't change anything, and would harm far more than just the two nations directly involved. No the change had to come from within and she didn't know how likely that was.

She also had her douts about the direction the once Protectorate, now quietly renamed Domination, of Tanaara was heading. But that was definitely a case of wait and see.

Cara nodded at Reaven's advice.

"I fully understand your position, and respect where you are comming from. While the Imitoran military would have no problem mobilizing in full, we will gladly comply with your desires. However, should you require more assitance, know well that Imitora will not be hesitant in offering such."

She wondered if the Tarlachians or any of the other nations would be so quick to send their own soldiers to die for someone else;s cause. There had been little fan fare when Imitoran Marines and soldiers had mobilized to take back parts of captured Tarlachian land, and was even less when they came back. All in a day's work. In fact, with little attacks comming from the outside since the short days following the Imitoran withdraw from the APTO, there hadn't really ever been a war against Imitora. Sure, Imitoran forces had mobilized numerous times to take up someone else's campaign, but had seen little in the way of fighting for themselves.

Still, it bothered Cara little to send Imitorans to help the Argonian government, and be it in the guise of the 2nd or 5th Special Forces Group as advisors, the 1st Special Forces Group-Special Operations Applications Detachment as a counter terror and insurgency force, or mobilizing full scale, she would be glad to help.

Irving, during the exchange, said little if anything, and all quietly to Cara. He had caught the numerous stair's offered against him and Cara from the Tanaraan delegation, and was almost tempted to call Mercy on it. Another note to Cara, and he simply went back to what he did best: watching.

Raven laid a gentle hand on Mercy's knee, and caught her eyes with his, warning her that her control was slipping.

She sighed and took a deep breath. She was so tired, having had no sleep in over fortyeight hours as of the time the conference had started. Her anger was personal and had no place here.

Then a thought intruded that wasn't hers, and she nearly burst out laughing at the mental image that pressented itself.

"In international news, Cara, the leader of the nation of Imitora has been found dead, pied to death with hundreds of blueberry pies. Local Imitoran youngsters are suspected to be responsible." A newpaper with a full half page picture, above the fold with the 'mourning' band across the upper right corner. A pair of feminine legs sticking out from beneath a mass of broken pie crusts painted with gobs of thick blue goo and liberally strewn with gently steaming blue berries - A sudden gust of mental air brought her a whiff of hot blueberries, then vanished.

Biting her lip so hard it nearly bled she whipped her head around to look at Shalamar. Lively amber eyes twinkled at her above the crimson veilo that hid the rest of her face.

Both Her Majesty Holli, Tanaara, and Her Imperial Majesty Kaylinde, Tanara, had sent forces into Tarlachia to protect and defend before the Tarlachian government had made any request. They had had troops in Tarlachia before the grazer weapon had ever ben fired. In fact Mercy had been touring the refugee camps in south western Tarlachia at that time, well within the war zone, with only the at that time thin screen of the 501st protecting the camps. None could question either nations willingness to fight on behalf of others, without stint or hesitation.

Boris and Peter weren't heavily concerned about the plight of the Argonians. It's not that they didn't care at all, but it was quite obvious there were multiple nations already willing to aid their lizard-like neighbours and Assington had many other things to deal with, primarily the expansion of territory into the south and dealing with all the refugees.

The display Arithon had put on was somewhat amusing, although Boris and Peter took his tough talking a little more seriously than Perigrine had, who was a somewhat mysterious figure in her own right. Whatever was going on between the pair, Assington had no intention of stepping in.

Pulling up a list on his laptop, Boris scanned over several issues that he intended to bring up in the conference at one point or another. As always, vampires was an issue and since Assington was home to a large population of the menacing creatures he felt it necessary to be on the same level with everyone in the region. Besides that, Boris was somewhat concerned with the amount of regional crime since the demonic war. Many people displaced from the war had turned to hijacking and robbing regional travellers, which was something he and presumably everyone else did not appreciate.

Pointing this out to Peter, the pair muttered to eachother whilst keeping an eye on the current conversation.

"If the matter of the disposition of the island has been settled to every ones satisfaction, then perhaps we should move on to the next subject of our agenda" Mercy commented firmly, though her lips still quivered at the mental image.

"Queen Samantha brought6 up the next matter on her own, though it was the second point I had intended to lay before the region. Or should I say she brought up half of the subject." Mercy tapped her controls and once again the regional map was projected holographically over the center of the circular table.

"Given the displacement of people and the fall of various nations resulting from the Dark War, the figures collected from around the region shows that over all crime is on the rise, not just within nations but every where with in the region. Criminals are crossing borders freely, as all too often the nation they are entering has no knowledge of theri criminal status and acts else where." Columns of statistics gather and compiled from publicly avialable sources were displayed next to the map.

"I know that each nation has their own laws, and I certainly have no desire to change that. However if we shared data on criminals, formed a agency comprised of agents from every nation, we might be able to keep the problem from getting worse. Our own version of Interpol."

Mercy paused to let others speak up and express their thought on the idea.

Reeven nodded in agreement. Most of the arms supplied to the rebels were bought with drug money from their neighbors...

"Once the insurgency is crushed, we would be more than willing to aide any of you, reguardless of your participation. I'm sure the Argonian Intelligence Service would be more than willing to aide this regional INTERPOL in any way possible. Their agents are probably looking for something different to do than hunting down insurgents in the cities..."

It wasn't widely known, but most of the AIS agents were former specialized hunters from the old days, vampire killers from the Order of the Silver Claw and the like, Longhunters who'd spent their days sneaking through the Marshes in pursuit of untold horrors, Shadowscale assassins with dozens of kills to their credit. While the agents of the AIS all now shared the Shadowscale title, they still retained their former skills well. You could take the Argonian from the hunt, but not the hunt from the Argonian...

"It would be the least we could do..."

Boris nodded his approval to no one in particular as Mercy brought up the subject of regional crime and how best to deal with it. Crime had been something Assington was known to be tough on and had no particular reason to cease doing so. As a result, Assington had one of the lowest crime rates in the region, despite the vampire issue.

Bringing a document onto his screen, Boris confirmed it was the file he wanted before addressing the rest of the conference.

"Assington thoroughly supports this notion and would be more than willing to become a driving force in tracking and cataloguing regional criminals. I have just sent you all a document regarding the nature of Assingtonian laws and how they deal with criminals. Some of you may see them was unnecessarily harsh, some of you may not. Either way, they are effective."

Taking a brief moment to pause, Boris retrieved several other files regarding the laws of other nations.

"I understand that on occasion national laws will come into conflict and whilst we are willing to negotiate extradition agreements and such, if the crimes committed within our borders are of a grander scale then they take precedent."