NationStates Jolt Archive

An invitation to his parent’s home for dinner and a few days rest was the one thing that Alakantar O’Neill dreaded seeing again on his office desk. He had been putting the event off for so long, making any excuse to not go because he feared any sort of meeting between his mother and his girlfriend. The two had never met and knew not particularly much of one another – or so he tried to ensure – but his mother was never one to make a good first impression. No, in fact, out of those women he dated, nearly all were terrified of her and broke up with him shortly thereafter. And three of them were nearly killed directly by his mother, with one in so much fear that she landed in the hospital when a severe asthma attack struck her.

Now, as he stood in the stargate terminal in the city of Valacirca, patiently awaiting the opening of access back to the Grummian mainland, Alakantar could not help but ponder whether he made the right decision in finally going along with this. He knew that he would have to do it eventually, but he was more concerned for Arielle more than anything. Would she flee at the first sign of tension or would she stand by his side no matter what happened? Would she be able to withstand any thing that happened during their stay? They had together survived the plague that had stricken the planet Mars not more than a few months ago, and that was a more trying and stressful time than anything Alakantar had faced before. Surely the ever present aura of death that engulfed the planet paled in comparison to meeting a person who hated nearly everyone who came before her. But, in spite of how much logic he tried to apply to this, he still had his concerns but it was only natural to do so in this situation.

With his thoughts occupied with this worrying, he stared quietly ahead at the gate, making no movements other than resting the two suitcases he had been carrying for so long down onto the white marble flooring.

Arielle came up behind him and gently slipped her hands around his waist, kissing him gently on the cheek. For the first time since he had met her, she had actually applied make-up, though it didn't do much to enhance her already ascendant beauty. Instead, it acted to cover her nervousness. Slowly, she kissed him again, drawing him around to hold her. "It will be fine." She murmured, moving her hands up to hold his head in them and leaning forward to kiss her lover on the lips. "I love you."

Her voice trembled a bit, and she looked to the gate. "Oh... looks like it's time to go."

Despite his best efforts to prevent it, Alakantar’s mind disappeared into the ever consuming darkness of worry as it began to permeate all his thoughts. He had cared so much for Arielle, much more than he ever did for anything else. And he truly loved her, there was no denying that. But he always seemed to worry for her safety when it came to these situations. Perhaps he was thinking far too much about it. Perhaps he kept coming up with the worst possible outcome to it all. Though from experience, he had seen the very worst and feared it could happen once again.

Even though he found himself doing this quite a lot lately after receiving that invitation, there always was a hand that managed to pull him out of it. He felt it every time…her warm, soothing touch…the loving gaze that fell upon him…the tender kiss from her lips. No matter what happened, Arielle always managed to calm his worries, but it did not end there. Whatever the universe threw at the two, they were there for each other, no matter what, and at times not even realizing it. Whenever she was faced with some seemingly insurmountable problem, he was there for her. Whenever the stresses of his job, his responsibilities and his life seemed to hit him the hardest, she was there for him, and this was certainly one of those times.

Alakantar held her in his arms, a loving embrace that showed her how much he truly appreciated what she had done for him and how much he would do for her. Hearing her words made him that much more at peace with things.

“It will be,” he replied, finally cracking a smile and leaned in to kiss her on the lips. “I love you, too, Arielle.”

When she pointed out that the massive metal gate before them had just activated, creating the blue-fluid event horizon that led to the Grummian mainland, he just kept his attention upon her, still holding her close to his chest.

“Let them go,” he said, nodding to the heavy streams of businessmen, holiday travelers, and other citizens that flowed around the couple, pressing close together like a herd of cattle, and through the gate.

He smiled and kissed her, the tremendous love for her evident with the passion he exerted upon her. He cared not about the time and just wanted a moment together with her before the pressing matters had to be dealt with. He carried it on for a few more minutes, until the flow of people through the gate slowed to a trickle.

Finally breaking the hold he had around her, he nodded toward the ring. “I think we’d better go,” he said softly and picked up the twin suitcases in his hand. With a smile on his face, he held out an arm for her to grasp and stepped through the event horizon.

The scene upon exiting the event horizon of the gate had come as a complete surprise to Alakantar. Gone was the old terminal that had served the city since the early days of the Corporation. That one had been partially burned down in the war that had taken place here four years prior. Since then, its role had diminished and was primarily used for passenger service to the colony worlds as most of the infrastructure and equipment that had been in use for customs, security checkpoints and basic international travel had all been demolished. It remained an eyesore, a blight on the city, with nothing more than a basic shell to keep its customers from the elements of nature.

But since the time Alakantar had assumed the gubernatorial position on Mars, the dilapidated structure had been demolished – in actuality the entire city block had been leveled – to pave the way for an entirely new terminal that would become a nexus for the entire city’s transportation system.

“Whoa…” the drow blurted out in surprise and awe as he stepped down from the gate. “This is…new…” He walked forward to a metal railing no more than thirty feet from the gate and gazed out into the open space.

Three stories below him, mostly under ground level, had been cleared an expansive area, covering approximately three-hundred thousand square feet. This space was not wasted, of course, as it served as a hub for the subway lines that serviced the entire city and the railways that branched out into the rest of the nation. Running parallel with one another, tracks ran the entire length of this space with elevated light-tan marble platforms between them, bustling with people scurrying about in their attempt to catch their trains on time. Streams of passengers accessed these platforms by means of a stairway on both ends, also of the same material, that rose up to the ground floor which enabled them to leave and enter the terminal at will.

Overhead, harkening back to an era reminiscent of the early twentieth century, the multi-arched roof provided the main source of light for the station through the use of the natural rays of sun; the roof consisted mostly of large glass panes, held together by a carefully constructed framework of steel. This enabled the use of the use of the light fixtures, which hung from the metal support columns and rose up on poles along the platforms, to be lessened greatly during the day. While not only being economical for the city-operated terminal, the light provided a warm, soothing glow on those who passed under that immense ceiling.

And yet, despite the penchant for designing this terminal as one would in a bygone era, from the days of the grand stations of old, there was a degree of modernity built into it. Instead of the old signs, which mechanically flipped the arriving and departing times for a particular train, the schedules all of the tracks were on, and the track numbers, computer screens took their place and were crafted in such a way as to not be easily recognized by the average person for what they were. Behind the rustic lamps and their frosted glass coverings, incandescent bulbs were replaced by the more modern light-emitting diodes. And the security stations were all seamlessly integrated into the surrounding structure so as to not pollute this area with anything that was deemed entirely too modern.

Alakantar gazed down for just a few more seconds, his eyes centering on a newly-arrived train now pulling into the station. Completely plated in chrome and streamlined to fit the design era of this station, it stretched the complete length of the platform where the passengers waited. A whistle blew, a burst of steam shot out from the top of the locomotive. Even though these engines were not fired by any fossil fuels or really anything requiring the use of water, it felt it was needed for nostalgia to incorporate just a small device which condensed water from the atmosphere, heated it, and expelled it once the whistle had been blown. The sound was no different than that of trains from centuries ago and reverberated against the marbled walls of the terminal.

Just a second later, another sound accompanied it, that of a woman’s voice. “Sunrise Express, outbound to Grosland Beach and shore points south, is now arriving at Track Four. Sunrise Express, outbound to Grosland Beach and shore points south, is now arriving at Track Four. Please board now.”

The drow then watched the people stowing away their luggage in the baggage car and climbing aboard into the passenger cars, after which, he turned his attention upwards, towards the glass panes of the ceiling. There, he caught sight of the elegant silver skyscrapers, their construction cranes still busily at work, climbing into the beautiful cloudless blue skies of his homeland. Even with their growing height, they never seemed to block the sunlight that shone down into the station and only increased the amazing nature of this place.

Alakantar smiled happily and contentedly and focused his attention back onto his girlfriend. “Welcome to the Grummian mainland, my home,” he said. “It’s nothing like your own, of course, but it has a certain charm to it. What do you think?”

Arielle looked around, her mouth open slightly in awe. She turned to face Alak, and her expression reflected a variety of things, but nothing so much as her voice. "I love it." She said, and she said it truthfully, throwing her arms up around his neck and kissing him passionately, closing her eyes as she felt her soul well up within her and give voice in this act of pure love.

"Show me around!" She demanded of him, looking out at that great, noisy conglomeration that was Northrop-Grumman, her heart beating within her breast. She had never seen a city like this. Even her brief visit to the Imperial City on Rudan Prime had left her feeling empty, that great quiet place, the only sound the occasional hum of gravcars, not feeling like the 'home' she had always thought it was.

She had thought wrong, though. This was her home. She knew it as soon as she breathed in and out, feeling the air enter and leave her lungs. Arielle parted from her lover and ran to a window, looking out at the city again, and then she turned back and smiled at him, running back to his side and throwing her arms around him, crushing him to her breast. "I love you." She whispered, feeling more and more certain that this was right and that this was proper, that this was who she was meant to be, this was where she was meant to be, and that he was meant to be hers.

The awe and wonder that had befallen Arielle greatly delighted Alakantar, causing a wide grin to form across his face, but yet it had come as a complete surprise to him. He would have never imagined her to have such a reaction toward this land and certainly had never seen as much. Most visitors to the Grummian state rarely ever did, believing that they had arrived upon this seemingly mediocre environment. And others, those that had opted out of a trip over these rumors, took their vacations to places that they deemed to be much more interesting, such as enjoying the ever vibrant nightlife of the Freestian Commonwealth or maybe becoming immersed in the twenty-plus millennia long history of the Eternal Noldorin Empire.

But, then again, it could very well be argued that this mindset was brought about and continued to thrive because business was the primary reason behind most visitors, and they did not have the time or the motivation to explore this expansive city, or the rest of the country for that matter. Nor did the Corporation make any effort to promote tourism from abroad, never once considering the notion of extolling its strengths to any foreigner willing to travel, and never even bothered to provide useful resources to assist any who wished to visit. Though, fortunately for Arielle, she did not need to worry about these pitfalls as she had her very own tour guide in the form of Alakantar, who was more than happy to show her everything he knew about his country.

“I love you, too,” he answered her with a certain light-hearted joy in his voice, his arms wrapping around her warmly in a loving embrace. “How ‘about we get this luggage taken care of and I’ll show you around the city some?”

Upon a nod of confirmation from her, he released her from his arms, stooping down to lift the two heavy suitcases up off of the floor, and now attempted to push his way through the droves of people that hurried up the marble staircases. He kept himself pressed to one side of it, against the wrought-iron railings, trying not to crash is luggage into too many people as he took each step down carefully, not wanting to lose his balance either. Unfortunately, such crowds were common in this terminal as its stargate serviced approximately half of the Grummian population on Earth, being the only one on this side of the vast nation. Even though other forms of travel were, available, such as the commercial space liners, this was always viewed as being the cheapest and much faster and convenient than any others.

Thankfully though, the tremendous numbers of travelers came in waves, leaving Alakantar and Arielle with the entire staircase to themselves after only a few minutes. Seeing this opportunity to get out of the way of the next wave, he hurried down the remainder of the steps and across the ground floor of the terminal, easily dodging what little people there were left. There, he spotted exactly what he was searching for over near the far wall, near the entrance of the main waiting room, and made his way over there.

“Ah, good afternoon,” he kindly greeted the attendant at the counter. “I need this baggage to be stowed away in my car for the evening. I believe it ought to be in the parking deck here…”

An eyebrow was raised, and the man peered up at the drow curiously with a nod. “Very well….may I see some identification, sir?”

“Sure,” came the response from Alakantar but expecting such a request, he had already grabbed his identification card from his wallet and had it in hand. “Here,” he said, swiping it through the reader.

“Thank you.” The attendant examined the details that had appeared upon his screen, assuring that everything was in order for security and privacy’s sake. “And the information about the car?”

“Two-thousand-four Enzo Ferrari, cherry red,” he answered, placing the twin pieces of luggage on the counter to the left of him.

The information concerning the car was also looked over upon the screen, matching the details of the ownership of the automobile to that of Alakantar to be absolutely sure that the two were the same. After all, it was an incredibly expensive car and the terminal staff had a reputation to uphold. Besides, one can never be too careful.

“Everything appears to be in order,” the man finally said, taking the bags from the counter and placing them in a slot on the wall behind him, where they promptly disappeared. He then noticed Alakantar still waiting with his card in hand. “Payment for parking will be done when you pick your vehicle up later on.”

“Ah, thanks,” the drow replied with a polite bow of his head, then swiped his card through the reader again, making sure to press the ‘Tip’ button upon it.

“And thank you, sir,” came the answer with a broad smile once he had seen just what had done.

Now that he was finally free of the burdensome baggage, Alakantar firmly grasped his girlfriend’s hand in his and led her away from the counter, steadily strolling through the entrance into the main waiting room and subsequently the way out of the terminal. Beyond this triple-arched marble opening lay yet another expansive room, designed specifically to hold the thousands of travelers that passed through here hourly. It possessed the same vaulted steel-framework ceiling and glass panes as did the central section of the terminal, with the addition of arched windows of the same material along the outer walls, allowing in sunlight from outside world. In long rows spanning the width of the floor were wrought-iron benches, inlaid across the seats with strips of oak, stained and sealed, to provide some comfort to weary people. They were partially filled with people of all backgrounds – robed elves patiently flipping through a newspaper, humans dressed in suits anxiously poring over information in their PDAs, mothers trying to calm their jittery children who seemed to want to run around than sit quietly. Some visited the refreshment stands at either end of the room for a cool, refreshing glass of soda, while others roamed about the magazine displays, searching for whatever cover piqued their interest.

As he was walking through here quietly watching the people going about their day, he figured that Arielle might be curious about what purpose the service desk served that he had just been at and sought to explain it all to her.

“Those folks are kinda like the concierge desk at a hotel. They’re generally here to take care of whatever needs passengers may have when they come through here. If a businessman is in a rush, they’re more than happy to check into the hotel for him and carry his luggage up so that he doesn’t have to worry about late fees or even losing the hotel room if a meeting runs late. Or if you need a restaurant or hotel reservation to be made and maybe a taxi to get you there, you can simply call the desk and they’ll have it ready by the time you arrive. Or, in my case, if I need to go out for the evening and my car is already here, they can get the luggage taken care of, since they already have the keys,” he explained carefully. “But all of these things to cost a deal of money so there is a small surcharge on all tickets sold, whether you use the service or not.”

Arielle instinctively reached into her purse and withdrew a small amount of currency, then blushed and put it away, instead leaning against Alakantar's arm, sighing happily as she realigned her internal position towards her current role. Her soft body easily melted against his as she snuggled under his arm, content to just stand there silently for a few moments. Then a thought occurred to her. "Alak? When will I be meeting your parents?" She sounded nervous.

That tension readily apparent in her voice easily tugged at his own emotions, stirring back up into his thoughts the strain that he had felt earlier and now shared with his lover. But Alakantar knew that this was not the best time for both of them to be bent out of shape, especially not while there was still some time ahead before the drive back home, for who truly wanted to linger about the train station, worrying constantly, fearful for hours on end of what may lie ahead? So without much further thought, an arm slipped around the small of her back, squeezing her against him in a warm, comforting hold that tried to provide some assurance that all will be well, and to, at least try to lessen her worries as she had always done for him.

“Well, we aren’t really expected to be there until later on this evening,” he answered her, while attempting for move himself beyond his own tensed nerves. “But, not to worry though, that’s still a few hours off, so we’re not in too much of a rush to get back.” Then a smile crept across his face as his arm dropped, a hand grasping at her own. “C’mon, let’s not linger on that too much longer. There’s a whole city out there to see.”

From the gradually filling waiting room, he led her through one of the revolving iron doors, whose heavy frames required mechanical power to constantly keep their weight spinning around the central axis and to subsequently aid in the flow of travelers in and out of this station. With very little effort involved despite the large number of commuters, the two passed beyond the stone walls of this structure and found themselves standing at the front entrance of the terminal. Essentially a portico in construction, it consisted of twelve granite columns of tremendous size supporting a roof that jutted out from the main structure, which provided protection for those awaiting taxies or to be picked up by friends or relatives.

As the couple steadily made their way down the rows of steps, most who passed them by bid them a courteous good afternoon, familiar with, at least, who Alakantar was and accurately guessing that the woman his hands were locked with was his girlfriend, but others, simply in far too much of a rush, nodded their heads politely as they bounded over several steps at once and into the doors above.

Upon reaching the busy street, it became much easier for Arielle to attain an understanding of where the terminal was in relation to the city around her as the openness of the surrounding area provided a clearer view than at any other point. The building itself was situated on the southeastern edge of a traffic circle, which was skewered by a broad street that ran northeast-southwest through the downtown section of the metropolis. While this street was indeed a boulevard in name, it was accurate enough in description for its multiple lanes were divided by a median running down its center that was filled with lush grasses, chrysanthemums of gold and turquoise, and towering oaks providing shade for the cars and citizens that passed underneath their branches.

When one looked up toward the northeastern end of this boulevard, the financial district was the very first thing that came into view. Its towering skyscrapers of silver and cerulean blue metal and glass easily dominated the skyline with their bulky frames, shadowing over the streets below and glistening brightly in the afternoon sun. But despite their incredible height and the careful detail that had gone into them, reconstruction of these buildings had been fairly rapid after the war, with the aid of the Corporation playing a major part in turning this former site of desolation and destruction into one of the more pristine and prestigious districts in the city. In these days, the focus was more on what went on inside of these skyscrapers than the buildings themselves as they now played the part in trying to provide a stable financial foundation to an economy that still was shaking from the loss of lives and capital.

Beyond this district was a more visible reminder of what the past four years had wrought for the population here and manifested itself in the form of the capital building, its once prominent nine half-mile tall towers lay burned out and partially collapsed upon one another. Construction booms had seemingly taken their place and attempted to carefully remove and recycle what remained of this devastated superstructure. Although half of it could possibly be used for offices, all of the governmental activities had been moved into surrounding buildings or even out of the city entirely. None wanted to linger in such a facility, much less face all of the terrible memories associated with it during the war.

Yet there would always be those little reminders of such times, despite how much one would wish for it to pass from their mind. One in particular was in the midst of the busiest section of the city, at the center of the market district’s traffic circle. An obelisk, fashioned from the same material as the nearby train terminal, rose approximately thirty feet in the air, and etched in its stone were all the names of those from the city who had died those many decades ago during the civil war. But several hundred thousand names could not be contained entirely onto this monument and spread throughout the surrounding meter high walls that encompassed this little park. Consistently pruned ivy adorned a majority of these walls and provided a contrast to the grey granite other than the white azaleas that lined the sidewalks into this park. But this area remained almost devoid of people as they reverently stayed away from it, unless they were there to pay their respects to the dead, or just plain did not want to be reminded of such a tragedy any longer. Instead, they kept to the outer edge of the traffic circle, far away from that park, and went about their day in the best manner possible.

But whether this involved catching a train southbound to one of the Grummian shore points or perhaps going on a little bit of a shopping spree, they could always find something to do in the market district. Though one could say that wasn’t particularly hard as the district composed of several square miles of land, consisting of a seemingly never-ending abundance of shopping malls constructed within entire city blocks and interconnected with covered walkways that arched over the streets, and was the location where nearly all Grummian and foreign commerce converged. Often enough, as the Corporation lessened trade barriers with other nations, the first and foremost place where permission was granted for foreign businesses to open was this very city. Products from abroad were always sent through the shipping terminals just south in Newport News and the air and spaceports just outside the boundaries of the metropolitan area and made their way first into these shops. And because of the growth and diversity present in the population, manufacturers often used this district as a testing ground for future products and, if approved for production, sent the newest items to the stores present here.

This, in turn, fostered a heavily capitalistic environment where just about anything could be sold to the population, and as one walked through each of these stores, it could be readily seen. Clothiers from the Dominion, who had managed to set up shop in one of the more upscale locations, attracted more of the affluent segments of society with their intricately woven designs that displayed the care and pride that had gone into each piece of clothing. On the opposite end of the spectrum, Zepplin Manufacturers had taken up a rather enormous sized space in one of the less price conscious areas and catered to mainly those bargain hunters and those who wanted a bizarrely designed product unlike anything one could find in Northrop-Grumman. Elsewhere, department stores were opened by Tsarainese immigrants and sold a wide array of products, such as automobiles, electronics, foods, and medicines, which attracted shoppers from all walks of life through their renowned durability and quality. Easily entering a very little competitive market were the Midlonians, offering a variety of tasteful teas for those unable to find such a thing anywhere else in the nation.

But these were not the only things available for sale in the market district for on the ground levels of a majority of the buildings here were essentially public markets. Primarily used by farmers and other merchants from all over the nation to sell their goods to the public, they harkened back to centuries past with their homemade and grown products being proudly displayed for selection by those purchasing. As one walked through the crowds present here, one could catch glimpses of freshly cut porterhouse steaks, links of sausage hanging from racks, newly caught fish and crabs resting neatly on ice, and the aroma of bread baking in nearby ovens and bouquets of colorful flowers picked from the fields. But while there was an endless supply of perishable goods, non-perishables were also in abundance and consisted of anything from cookbooks composed of recipes handed down through generations upon generations, home-fashioned knickknacks crafted from scrap metal or even wood, fluffy hand-woven blankets, and many others.

However, Arielle was quiet as they entered the market, looking around them curiously. She seemed content to cling to him, not quite trusting herself to speak as they walked, occasionally dotting his cheek with a little kiss, and seeming far more interested in her boyfriend than in the city streets around them. Still, occasionally she found something worth looking at for a while.

One of them was a perfectly ordinary shopfront, advertising a thousand flavors of ice cream. Arielle stood in front of it, her hand latching onto Alak's as he moved on without her, and pulled him back. "What's wrong?" He asked her, going back to her.

"They advertise a thousand flavors of ice cream, and I've never had one." She said, after a moment. "What's ice cream like?"

"Why don't we go and find out?" Alakantar offered, leading her inside.

An hour later, after Arielle had tried every flavor twice, they finally left to sit down on a bench outside. Arielle's lips were covered with chocolate. "Careful, Arielle, you'll get a stomach ache." She stuck her tongue out at him, then leaned forward and licked his cheek. "Hey!" He wiped it clean.

She smiled at him, and then looked at the ice cream. "Maybe I should get my parents a carton of this... ice cream!"

"What? Why?" Alakantar asked, confused.

"Well, I'm visiting someplace new, so..." She kicked her pretty feet for a moment. "Maybe I can find them something nice enough to make them forgive me?"

For the moment, his eyes were mainly focused downward on the particularly difficult chunk of peppermint ice cream he was trying to scoop up with his spoon. "Forgive you? You haven’t done anything wrong and have been doing nothing more than living your own life, making your own decisions and most importantly being yourself. That’s not something that you should feel guilty about or even apologize for."

Arielle kicked her feet again, then rested her heels on the ground and leaned her head against his shoulder, licking the ice cream as if the fate of the world rested on her eating it. "What was it like, growing up in a real family?"

He paused his efforts in trying to chisel out a piece of the tasty treat and instead placed the entirety of his attention over to Arielle, rather concerned where this string of questions was leading. “Well…” he answered her, thinking as he went along. “Honestly, I don’t think I would have been the way I am now if it weren’t for the love and the care that they gave me.

“Sure, when I was a child they provided me with the things I could not: food, clothing, shelter. But they taught me what they could either directly – whether it be certain social skills, physical training, or perhaps something as simple as changing a tire – or indirectly – watching what they did throughout their day-to-day lives and applying it to my own. Though, admittedly there are things that I believe they did wrongly, but I took the mistakes that they made and learned what not to do in my life.

“But I think more importantly is that they gave me independence in what I did, only holding my hand in those times where I needed someone to be there. I could rise and fall based on my own merits and learn from whatever I did wrong. Of course, there were times when they were disappointed in me and let that be known, but they also understood that there was a point where I needed to live my own life and make my own decisions. They would be there for advice and any help if I asked for it, but other than that, I had to be self-reliant.”

Arielle nodded, and rested her head on his arm. After a minute she looked up and kissed him gently on the cheek. "Well, you don't have to be anymore. You've got me." She whispers, smiling. "And I love you." She looked at her watch and giggled. "As nice as this is, if we don't get to your parents soon we'll miss dinner. Remember, your mother said she wanted to see us by 6..."