NationStates Jolt Archive

“I don’t know, Raahmid. You are taking an awful risk here.”
The Grand Vizier shrugged, shoulders rubbing deeper into the plush leather of his chair. “With the retirement of Badria Nazanin al-Dalal and Shandara Muktar al-Dalal to private life, the harem stands empty. That may be a condition Sinjin can consider normal. However,” he put down the Havana Coronado with a wistful sigh, “our nation is founded on tradition. And the tradition of the Hareem is sacrosanct.”

The General did not answer immediately, but played with the rim of her wineglass while ostensibly considering the Tiffany lamp hanging above. She waited until the precise moment Raahmid’s hand edged towards his still-smoldering cigar.

“We are not the nation we were three years ago, Raahmid. Sultan Vaada Kivaa al-Din – Allah rest his soul – reigned over a nation which teetered on the brink of going backwards to the dark ages. Since his death…” she gestured at the lights.

“We have moved from fluorescents to LEDs. Concrete sets in minutes, not days, not hours. Our monorail system sits on pillars less then the thickness of my leg,” – she paused here to stretch – “yet with greater strength then the logs they sat on before. And the people rejoice – food has gone from something doled out and worried about to a commonality, even an entertainment! Tomatoes weighing in at a good kilogram, eggplants four times that – food we grow ourselves! Who would have believed this possible?”

Raahmid tapped his cigar. “It remains true; our Sultan is responsible for much advancement. More, it could be argued, then was gained from his cousin’s acquisition of that book, or our unearthing of those Lodisian modules, or even that gained from raiding the UN databanks. Or the Schultarians. Or any of the acquisitions of Ghost Wind.”

“All of which, directly or indirectly, our Sultan played a part.”

“Most true. All the more reason,” he lifted the cigar to his lips, taking a long satisfied puff before reseating it. “He should be attended by a proper harem.”

Riva shrugged. “We return to the question of… requisitioning simple stock from the populace. There are dozens if not thousands of young, available women who would leap at the chance…”

This gained her only a dismissive gesture from Raahmid, a gesture which scattered bits of ash onto the dark oak desktop, splintering a few displays. “We are an international power. The harem should reflect this truth. Do you remember the funeral of Crown Prince Louis Cessar of Hamptonshire?”

“Of course. Sinjin directed that I be his escort.”

“Which forced me into that most ridiculous excuse of a chest cold as a reason not to attend. It simply would not do to have three of the heads of Vastiva…”

“The State of Vastiva, and two of his councilors,” corrected the General of the Vastivan Armed Services.

“…to be in the same place at the same time.” If Raahmid heard her interjection, he made no sign. “It would have been entirely proper for him to have been escorted by Badria or Shandara or Francesca.” Iquaa had already retired by that time he nearly said, but did not.

“Francesca was already a diplomat at the time. One could hardly recall her from her responsibilities in IDF to act as an escort. Far too great a… step upward for a mere diplomat.” She took a drink, adding a mental note to add more casks of Schultarian Apple Juice to her cellar.

“She is now most obviously more then a mere diplomat.”

“So true, in the now. Would that it were true then as well. Alas, it was not.”

“The point, however, remains.”

Riva acquiesced simply by remaining silent.

“Then you agree.”

“Let us say, I shall not oppose you in this.” but I will not say the HSI will not hear of this, nor will I say I shall not be keeping close tabs on developments, Raahmid. It would not be the first attempt at a coup from within.



OOC: Badria Nazanin means “Moonlight Sweetheart”. Dalal - Treated or touched in a kind and loving way. "al-Dalal" is the final addition to the name of anyone who has been in the Sultan's service in any intimate way.

The office of the Grand Vizier was plush beyond imagining, dwarfing every other office – including that of the Sultan. This was by design; the Sultan had very little to do with the bureaucratic squabbling of day to day government, and could easily take months off with no great effect on governance.

The Grand Vizier, on the other hand, was a 24/7 office – it was not unknown for a Grand Vizier to live in their offices for months on end. “Vacations” were few and far between, usually limited to the State Mandated two weeks in local summer if that. The term “working vacation” had probably been coined in Vastiva.

There were many good reasons most Grand Vizier’s remained unmarried, childless, and retired as soon as possible.

Raahmid, however, was determined not to be one of those. He had already survived two Sultans, which made him somewhat of a living legend in Vastiva – most did not survive one, particularly in the period of the Red Sultan when Eola Sinitii al-Din “dismissed” five Grand Vizier’s in as many weeks.

Ancient history, he mused to himself. A check of his appointment book showed a long clear spell, nearly four hours long. Excellent.

His computer flipped on instantly – the advantages of better technology – and flipped through several checks of the room and itself in seconds.

A message first to the Tree Hugging Lesbians about their treaty obligations…

Encrypted message, couriered to the nation of Tree Hugging Lesbians

To: Queen Alexandria, Tree Hugging Lesbians
From: Raahmid Javani, Grand Vizier of Vastiva

Ab-shalom and Greetings;

In the interests of brevity, the pleasantries shall be dispensed with.

At this time, our 7th Expeditionary Army is within your nation, in the interest of maintaining the defense of your nation. Vastiva also continues to maintain two distinct defense fleets in international and your territorial waters in the interest of the defense of your nation. In addition, the sum of two hundred billion USD in various aid packages has or will be channeled to your nation to aid in economic and military development.

We trust you will perceive Vastiva has maintained her end of our treaty obligations.

If I could direct your attention to Article 26, section 2, paragraphs 8 thru 45 of our treaty, you will note there are particular obligations which your nation assumed in becoming signatory to this pact, and while we do not believe them to be onerous or unfair, we do believe the time is near – if not present – for your nation to put forth a candidate apparent for the position of courtesan within the harem of our Sultan.

Of course, we would not be adverse to a longer discussion of the various characteristics and knowledges said candidate should or might possess, such that she would become an asset in fact, as opposed to something of a decoration.

We do await your response, and are grateful for your discretion in and attention to this matter.

Namaste,
Raahmid Javani
Grand Vizier,
Humble Servant of His Magnificence, the Sultan of Vastiva

Official Reply from Queen Alexandria

Well, perhaps you could give us some further detail of what your Honorable Sultan would like in the candidate apparent, such as personality, looks, age, past, etc.


Also, we would like to inquire as to rather it matters if the candidate is in a postion of power or not, as their are many willing ladies within the Queen's guard, and indeed, within the civilian populace.

Though we're not really involved in this, Emperor Josef would like to point to his sister, The Lady Marlene Emmerich, as a candinate for the Harem.

you could shoot for my sister

High commander Laura Keller

OOC: Relax, folks - this particular thread of "How to Screw Up A Nation Without Really Trying" will be open to the general public soon enough. It is not quite what it seems; have a look here for some OOC details. (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=407478)

It is, however, somewhat serious. This is backroom politics of the worst kind, combined with a power grab.

Official Reply from Queen Alexandria

Well, perhaps you could give us some further detail of what your Honorable Sultan would like in the candidate apparent, such as personality, looks, age, past, etc.


Also, we would like to inquire as to rather it matters if the candidate is in a postion of power or not, as their are many willing ladies within the Queen's guard, and indeed, within the civilian populace.


Ab-shalom and Greetings;

Many thanks for your quick response.

It is rather difficult to name all things; our Sultan, as has been reported with some trepidation in our media, has made no prior effort to make additions to the harem. At his inception, he did make note he was not disposing of the old harem - as has been done, though infrequently - but did make them his own. None of the three are close to his age - the youngest is currently 39 - but I could not say there was a particular fondness nor displeasure with the question of age, or looks for that matter. I have not known him to be overtly choosy on outer appearances; he appears more to value the intelligence and abilities of those around him, as could be assumed by his promotion of Francesca Berenstein al-Dalal first to the consulate staff for the Ottoman Khaif Empire, then to our diplomat to British Morocco, then to IDF before her eventual promotion to our Vizier of International Activities.

In the other consideration, both Badria Nazanin al-Dalal and Shandara Muktar al-Dalal were allowed to retire to private life, their fortunes assured but their futures their own. So he does not force their destinies, but is not adverse to aiding them.

That said on looks and age, the matter of "past" emerges. Our tradition where the hareem is concerned is one akin to birth - what was before, is not considered judgemental, as acceptance into the hareem is considered much a pardon of past action. Indeed, during the onset of the reign of the Red Sultan, Eola Sinitii al-Din, many officers and strategists of the former sultan voluntarilly accepted places within her harem - and thereby avoided prosecution and executions.

Which is not to say the past is completely unimportant. Obviously, some concept of decorum and realpolitik is desired, and few if any of our Sultan's have ever shown an interest in mere decorations - one notable exception being the reign of Sultan Aaleyah Shazmah al-Din, who in 1398 decreed all her hareem to have their tongues pierced for her pleasure, and the lips sewn shut of any who displeased her in the least way. There was also Sultan Thaquaf na-Sadeed ben Lajlaj, who declared in 1817 only French would be spoken by members of the hareem - with a penalty of having the tongue torn out at the roots for the meerest slip, but such is considered something of a trivia rather then a constant.

I would ask your pardon for the digression. Let it suffice to say, a past makes for good tales in most cases.

One’s history plays a part in what one offers; certainly, all skills have some application, and a member who has no skill other then that of being a good listener is something of a constant in our mythology. So again, no particular skill set is required, though as a matter of course, if an understanding of the world as it is is not currently within the realm of knowledges of a candidate once accepted, time would be spent in the education of such things. We also most certainly will endeavor to teach Vastivan to an accepted candidate – and certainly a knowledge of tongues would come in handy there… or perhaps not, as our language takes on a life of it’s own, and does seek to make use of words for our own ends, rather then that of the original language. This is perhaps the secret of its complexity, and at least a good part of the reason none outside of Vastiva – save for one particularly odd bard from the land of Camel Eaters – has much knowledge of our native tongue, save in the most peripheral of understandings.

As to property, titles, and the like: upon acceptance in the harem, the citizenship of the candidate becomes Vastivan – dual citizenships are not unheard of, though it would be somewhat impolitic to believe one could serve in such a role and remain such – and their properties are held by the Sultan. Other titles and duties are considered secondary to that of their service, and as such are usually dispensed with in a swift manner.

They are not, of course, required – and as you appear to have a great many who would apparently seek this position, we would not be adverse to reviewing their applications.

We are unaware of conditions within your nation concerning such; most certainly, we are not adverse to a candidate reassuming her robes of office after retirement. During her period of service, however, all other commitments would be in abeyance at least. A preference is, of course, for one who understands this – the harem is not a vacation nor a time share.

It is my hope this missive answers most if not all of your questions; in return, we would request the answer to a single query – that of, if we are to understand your nation’s ways, why this position is apparently a popular consideration among those of your nation, considering what the duties entail, at least in part.

It is hoped this reaches you in good health; if I can be of further help in clarifying, please do not hesitate to ask. My personal thanks again for your discretion in this matter.

Namaste,
Raahmid Javani
Grand Vizier,
Humble Servant of His Magnificence, the Sultan of Vastiva

The Position is Popular because a good deal, if not all of our citizens, feel it would be some sort "Thanks", as Vastiva took the young nation of T.H.L under it's wing a short time after the nation was formed.

All of our citizens cannot deny this could have possibly influenced other, less liberal nations, to back down from any aggressive plans they had with our nation because we are so "different" from many nations in the world.

And due to the fact, as still a relatively young nation, you have persisted in remaining our ally and providing use with economic and military assistance we would perhaps not other wise be able to gain access to.

I will begin personally interviewing all of those whom wish to assume the role of candidate, and from this, she will choose whom ever she feels would be best suited for the said role in your nation.

Peace be with you,
Queen Alexandria, Grand Priestess of the the Xel'La'Tothian faith, grand duchy of the city of New Lesbos, And Queen of the realm of T.H.l.

(copied from this thread. (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=407705&page=2))

Francesca Berenstein al-Dalal fiddled with the fit of doeskin leather holster to her leg. The Sparrow palmgun was an old friend – the same one she had received upon her induction into the diplomatic corps. Her main “defense” had been upgraded to the Sparrow-F: at close range, the flechette rounds would penetrate modern body armors like a blowtorch through soft cheese. She’d already checked and double checked the six round magazine and seated that technological piece in… her primary location.

But her original Sparrow still held a place near her heart. Or rather she chuckled to herself, under my leg.

Once again, she checked her hair and makeup – a rather pointless exercise in view of the four hours of flight still ahead of her, but habit was habit and there was nothing wrong with working to impress Sinjin for the next four hours.

At this thought, she smiled and gave a small sigh. It was obvious why her presence had been called for – once again, the Sultan of Vastiva wanted it made perfectly clear he was not in the market for any sort of companion, that this visit was a social nicety and little more. All the common courtesies would be observed, but the undertone would be met with a friendly-but-firm “thank you, but no thank you”.

Fortunately, she did not mind in the least being portrayed as a “social excuse”, regardless of the truth. It may have ruffled Raahmid’s feathers not to be sent on official junkets with any regularity - but then again she mused, how would it look to have a sixty-two year old man hanging on Sinjin’s arm?

Her primping completed – save for a touch there, a touch here, oh that’s enough… I hope – she stepped back into the planes spacious main compartment – made all the more so as on this trip the 74SL would carry only five passengers. Even with the addition of necessary flight crew, far more room was present then necessary.

Ah, yes, but diplomacy loves its smoke and mirrors, as well as it’s peacock displays. She unconsciously ignored the view out the window of two of the four F-137 Firebirds on escort duty for the flight; instead she worked her way forward to where she had left Sultan Sinjin Lefkowitz al-Din.

Unsurprisingly, he had remained just where she had left him – seated at a plain desk, reviewing names, facts, figures, all relevant data from Vastiva’s emergency aid to Htrae Miseria following that rather wet catastrophe which had all but devastated the island nation. True, Vastiva had not been the only responder – but there’s nothing like a nudge to remind the nobility – we were there, and in force, when you needed us. She gave a predatorial smile. Particularly if we ever get into trade negotiations.

She sat discreetly to one side, but it was evident after few minutes he had no intention of addressing her, or even recognizing her presence. She rested her head against the cushioned seatback, careful not to crush her hairdo, and closed her eyes.

The figures were not difficult – they never were, particularly with the new software. Work had become more a matter of data manipulation then cutthroat contracts. Not that in this country it ever was.

Vizier Voyate Shumash ben Allen watched impassively as VALOREC’s daily production (actual) tallied with projections; accounts payable clicked out funding, accounts receivable took it in. Shipping schedules remained a comforting shade of green, even when taken to within five percent of expectations.

He muttered as the computer showed the sizable chunk which would vanish from his display and into the Sultan’s pockets.

For a few minutes, as he did every day, he toyed with the idea of diverting just a little bit, moving a touch of profit from, oh – say VALOREC and Frogleg Import and Export – into another fund, something to help cover the next year…

Treason, yes, but also good business sense. Voyate grimaced his way through another swallow of hot tea. At his fingertips, a monopoly on goods and services: vertical, horizontal, diagonal, any which way he wished to exercise his power. In any other nation, anywhere in the world, this much power would make him a very rich and very feared man.

He finished the cup. But here?

On the one hand, Voyate Shumash ben Allen was the fourth richest individual in Vastiva, arguably one of the top one hundred richest individuals on the planet.

On the other – until he retired, all the fruits of his labor remained the de facto property of the State. Oh, yes, he could use his own money – a large estate could be his on a word, a fancy car required less then an eyeblink. A thousand courtesans – sign here sir, their contracts are yours. A million rubies, more pencils then there were stars in the sky…

And until he retired, penultimate ownership would remain that of the State of Vastiva.

Sultan Sinjin Lefkowitz al-Din.

Even in governance – all the years before meant little. Were VALOREC – Allah forfend – to suffer a long string of failures, and their budget for the year drained to naught, it would not be from their long husbanded fruits they would draw succor – but from a beggary from the State!

”Oh, sir, please, may we have back some of the money we earned?”

The thought sickened him.

Momentarily unable to complete his daily review, he opened another file, a simple one which monitored incoming and outgoing mail through the VSERV node. On occasion, this had resulted in a good trading tip or two – more rarely, it disclosed those who were a bit more then slightly interested in his position, or those of the other…

Hello, and what is this?


Ab-shalom and greetings;

Many thanks for your quick response.

It is rather difficult to name all things; our Sultan, as has been reported with some trepidation in our media, has made no prior effort to make additions to the harem. At his inception, he did make note he was not disposing of the old harem - as has been done, though infrequently - but did make them his own….

Voyate tagged the index for copying to his private file, sending a worm through VSERVs records….

Curious indeed. Whatever are you up to, you old fossil?

Skimming the letter, he unconsciously took a sip from the empty cup, not noticing no liquid moved, and setting it down again.

Another touch of keys, and a copy of the treaty between Vastiva and Tree Hugging Lesbians came up; he sped through those parts going to THL and put his concentration to those parts relevant as trade concessions from THL…

An hour later, Vizier ben Allen leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled at his chest, the first inklings of a plan coming to mind.

Possible… surely, possible. But when? And how? Surely, the Herald will check with the Sultan, and at most this will become a small event…

A “memo/minder” blinked on; he almost deleted it, chose to read it instead.

Ahh, I see. The Herald cannot check with the Sultan if the Sultan is not here – and is not in contact… fascinating…

He tapped his intercom. “Amany, cancel my appointments for the rest of the day.” I am working on something rather… special for our Sultan he almost added, but chose instead to laugh once the connection was no more.

To: Queen Alexandria, Grand Priestess of the the Xel'La'Tothian faith, grand duchy of the city of New Lesbos, And Queen of the realm of T.H.L.
From : Raahmid Javani, Grand Vizier of Vastiva

Ab-shalom and greetings anew;

We are most pleased for your attention to this matter – and your personal involvement insures it shall indeed be a most successful endeavor.

Please, do not feel limited to a single choice, we are most happy to… entertain several candidates for a time. Indeed, if there is not a limitation on how many can or will accept, who knows what our Sultan will decide upon?

My personal thanks are again yours for your attention to this matter; Vastiva is most happy to remain an ally of such a thoughtful nation as your own.

Namaste,
Raahmid Javani
Grand Vizier,
Humble Servant of His Magnificence, the Sultan of Vastiva

Memo to the First among the Palace Servants

All fifty-one chambers of the harem are to be cleaned and aired. Scented linens are to be used, save in the rooms of the favored, where fine silks are required, with equally delicate perfumes to be used.

In addition, all fountains and baths are to be…



Memo to the Palace Seneschal

Stock sufficient for an additional fifty-one mouths is to be added to the larder. In addition, stock sufficient to outfit the new residents appropriately – dresses, shoes, undergarments, and the like – is to be added to stores, such that new projects may be begun by the seamstresses, tailors, cobblers, and such with the finest materials available. A supply of spun silver and spun gold is not inappropriate.

It should also become evident a full study of the cuisines and cultures of several nations should be studied forthwith, chief among them….



Memo to Guard-Captain Therassi

As you may already be aware, there will be soon arriving a bevy of candidates for various positions within the palace. In the interest of pleasing our Sultan with their presence, and insuring their security, you are hereby authorized to implement the following additional measures, particularly within the harem itself…



Memo to Major Abdus-Sabour ibn Jokela, Air Customs Security , Gardemeister Aeroport , Sisu Vaari

As you may already be aware, there will be soon arriving a bevy of candidates for various positions within the palace. In the interest of pleasing our Sultan with their presence, and insuring their security, the following procedural changes in Customs and Security are requested….

Tag, Pending character approval.

Tag, Pending character approval.

OOC: Easy, there's been no public announcement of the opening - yet. Should be completed tomorrow. This is the internal build, and backstory.

What's your thread about?

I can send a woman to join your Harem.

What's your thread about?

I can send a woman to join your Harem.

OOC: Please keep OOC out of here - this is the IC thread. Read it for whats going on, ask OOC questions in the other thread. Thank you. :)

OOC: Please keep OOC out of here - this is the IC thread. Read it for whats going on, ask OOC questions in the other thread. Thank you. :)

Oops!

''I would like to go to the Harem and meet the Sultan.'' said Janet while brushing her hair.

''We've already told the Sultan you are interested in going to the Harem.'' said Father John. Father John was her private Orthodox priest.

''Thank You for telling the Sultan of my interest.I hope God Willing,He accepts.'' she said back to him before getting up to grab her homework.

''I have to go now,bye.'' said Father John.

''Before you go,who is the founder of Islam?'' she asked while doing her homework.

''Muhammed.'' He said.

''Thanks.'' she said.

OOC-Is this good?

OOC-My girl would love to meet the Sultan.

After a few (Rather stressful, may I add) days, I believe I have found the proper candidate.

Her name is Belle Madello. She is an intelligent, well mannered woman. She is twenty-four years of age, and has graduated college with a major in History, Literature, Chemistry, and Math.

She is the daughter of a well respected professor at the national college of our nation, and grew up a privileged life, this does not mean she is spoiled or snooty in the slightest, how ever.

In her past, she has payed several visits to less fortunate nations as an aid worker to children of the afore mentioned nations. Concerning appearance, she has auburn hair, and deep blue eyes. She is also a well shaped, curvy woman(Might I note pretty much all of the women in our nation are so, considering we have an extremely healthy diet).

I do hope she meets with the Sultans approval.

Always a friend,
Queen Alexandria.

The Tower of Law and Justice sang with activity, deep within its recesses. Several dozen members of the Council of Kjik argued incessantly; those of the Council of Kjak helped nothing by adding their voices within the inner chambers.

All around, Judges sat and heard cases, remaining – for the most part – ignorant of the proceedings, as was proper.

Things were finally decided with the unpacking of many of the older records: precedent was discovered and read. This satisfied the Council of Kjik.

The Council of Kjak required four more hours and nearly seventy gallons of tea before the bickering ceased. They too agreed with the decision, though it did come down to a vote, several threats, one duel, and a second vote taken secretly.

“Pass the word to the Heralds. There is to be an announcement made.”

***

Nivia Alix von Cohen once more ascends to the podium. She nods once to the international press before reading her statement.

“Ab-shalom and greetings to the members of the international community. Be it known,
with the retirement of Badria Nazanin al-Dalal to private life, the last of the harem of the prior Sultan has been properly… retired.

“As such, Vastiva is announcing to the International Community its desire to add new members to our Sultan’s harem.”

This caused something of a stir.

“It behooves us to mention, as we wish this made clear: these positions are not simply of… accompaniment, but of escort, and often are advisory positions. Those within the harem are oft privy to the inner workings of Vastiva, and no few of our Sultan’s have used advice taken from members of the harem to shape policy – nationally, regionally, and internationally.

“We further ask that the international community not restrict their understandings to the law that a position in the harem is for life. Consider the tale of Francesca Berenstein al-Dalal, who “retired” first to the position of diplomatic ambassador to the Ottoman Khaif Empire then to British Morocco, and even now stands as our Vizier of International Activities. Then there are those such as Badria who have retired to a more private life, and they are of course welcome to do so with the full blessing of the Sultan. It is a position understood to be the last served in – though this, as is obvious, is not always the case.”

She shuffles her notes, and rubs her eyes once. “Your pardon.”

“Applications are available from our governmental website, and can be forwarded to the office of the Grand Vizier. We ask that they be as complete as possible for initial review. If selected as a potential candidate, the applicant shall be flown to Vastiva for further testing and interviews.”

A reporter raises a hand. “How many positions are open?”

Nivia cracks a smile. “It is unknown how many will be filled in total. The chambers of the harem are fifty-one in number. Traditionally, five of those are restricted to membership by Vastivan citizens only.” She looks a bit uncomfortable as she continues: “Were there more questions?”

To: Queen Alexandria, Grand Priestess of the the Xel'La'Tothian faith, grand duchy of the city of New Lesbos, And Queen of the realm of T.H.L.
From : Raahmid Javani, Grand Vizier of Vastiva

Ab-shalom and greetings anew;

Most certainly we shall be pleased to review the candidate: I shall have a suitable conveyance dispatched immediately to conduct her to Vastiva.

From your initial words, it does sound as though she will most certainly fit all requirements, and one does hope this matter will satisfy the issue in total.

Many thanks for your personal attention to this matter.

Namaste,
Raahmid Javani
Grand Vizier,
Humble Servant of His Magnificence, the Sultan of Vastiva

To Namaste,
Raahmid Javani
Grand Vizier,
Humble Servant of His Magnificence, the Sultan of Vastiva...

Rommelwood would like to send Princess Claudia to your Harem.
She is very interested to meet the Sultan.
She is 15
Height-5'11
Weight-110
Religion-Orthodox

We can change her age.

Yours,
Rommelwood

To Namaste,
Raahmid Javani
Grand Vizier,
Humble Servant of His Magnificence, the Sultan of Vastiva...

Rommelwood would like to send Princess Claudia to your Harem.
She is very interested to meet the Sultan.
She is 15
Height-5'11
Weight-110
Religion-Orthodox

We can change her age.

Yours,
Rommelwood

Rommelwood is quitting NS and the Forum forever.

I am a family friend,so he said I can take this girl and use her.

To Namaste,
Raahmid Javani
Grand Vizier,
Humble Servant of His Magnificence, the Sultan of Vastiva...

Rommelwood would like to send Princess Claudia to your Harem.
She is very interested to meet the Sultan.
She is 15
Height-5'11
Weight-110
Religion-Orthodox

We can change her age.

Yours,
Rommelwood

Raahmid began his day as he always did - with the mail.

He was entirely unprepared for the snowstorm which awaited him. Well over twenty-seven hundred applications had been forwarded to him, personally. Even as he gaped, another two hundred added themselves.

"Borhze Moi!"

Three hours later, he had managed to wade through what amounted to a varied shoot for a porn centerfold. More arrived even as he did.

He shook his head and sent a request to the kitchen. This would take more work then he had put aside.


To: Father John, Rommelwood

Ab-shalom and greetings;

As you are most obviously aware, we are indeed taking applications and reviewing applicants for positions within the Harem. Indeed, we are most happy to accept her for review in country at this time.

However, we are somewhat curious as to how her age can be changed, as we have found no method save time passing to accomplish such a goal. Perhaps you will enlighten us?

We will also give some clarity where we have most obviously given confusion. "Namaste" is not a title, nor a person - it is used in our land as a way of saying "good day". I believe one translation to be "the holy in me acknowledges the holy in you".

It is hoped this clears up the confusion.

Please contact our office again, should you have further questions. We are also interested in arranging transportation for your Princess to Vastiva.

We do give notice, there is no assurance of acceptance at this time.

Namaste,
Raahmid Javani
Grand Vizier,
Humble Servant of His Magnificence, the Sultan of Vastiva

Raahmid began his day as he always did - with the mail.

He was entirely unprepared for the snowstorm which awaited him. Well over twenty-seven hundred applications had been forwarded to him, personally. Even as he gaped, another two hundred added themselves.

"Borhze Moi!"

Three hours later, he had managed to wade through what amounted to a varied shoot for a porn centerfold. More arrived even as he did.

He shook his head and sent a request to the kitchen. This would take more work then he had put aside.

Rommelwood is quitting NS and the Forum forever.

I am a family friend,so he said I can take this girl and use her.

Just say Byzantinia instead of Rommelwood.

Thanks.

Murhaba,

My name is Duchess Asiya Saleh and I write you to convey my grand niece's wishes to join the Sultan's harem. For what reason I can personally not fathom, but she has completed her basic schooling and has demonstrated to me, as the head of the family and the House of Alexandria, that she posseses enough maturity to make this decision for herself. As such, and with the Empress' blessing, I ask that at the very least she be granted an audience.

Now that basic introductions are over I shall start describing my niece. First, her name is Sadira Saleh. She is 16 years of age, is roughly 5'10" tall, 145 pounds in weight, and her measurements according to my seamstress are 36-26-34. She is a master in Aikijutsu and is just beginning her training in Kenjutsu. As I said earlier, her basic schooling is complete; her linguistics, foreign relations, and world history I would rate as excellent, while she is above average in all of her other topics. She is fluent in the following languages: English, Danish, Arabic, Chinese, and Russian. She also knows bit and pieces of another forty or so dialects and distinct languages.

Finally, onto a couple of special requests. Because I have never had any children I have designated her my heir and by Imperial law she must remain a citizen of the Imperium; she has voiced no desire to give up her position and indeed has expressed interest in following in my footsteps once she retires, if there is a problem with this I would request something be said now while we can still negotiate. Second, I request that she be allowed to take long-distance study courses from the University of Alexandria, it is needful that she continue her education if she is to have a future after her service to the Sultan. Finally, if you have a certified Sensei available in the art of Aikijutsu I request that she be granted access to continue her studies in that art as well, if you do not Sensei Ueshiba is willing to travel with my grand niece.

Ma'salama,
Duchess Asiya Saleh

To: Namaste,
Raahmid Javani
Grand Vizier,
Humble Servant of His Magnificence, the Sultan of Vastiva...

From: Office of External Contact and Affairs, Rogue Nation of Cadillac Gage c/o Director Suze Randall, Undersecretary of External Contacts and Affairs

Re: This office has agreed to forward a rather peculiar request from a citizen of Cadillac Gage to your excellency. Attatched is the Personnel File and Official State Records of a citizen of this country, whom is petitioning for permission to interview for the position of... I can't even type this... 'Harem Girl'.
Because this position places one of our nationals into a permanent position outside both home border, and Jurisdiction, I am obligated to serve as the initial contact... I am obligated by my duty to forward the request, personnel files, and any further information your nation requires to bring this... business to a satisfactory end.
I am obligated also to obtain from your offices a complete listing of what attire, personal effects, and sundry items Ms. Stahlhaver will be advised to bring with her during the processing and interview period, and what sorts of personal effects Ms. Stahlhaver is advised not to bring with her.

Upon confirmation, I am further required to pass on whatever diplomatic documentation will be necessary to facilitate her travel, including identity documentation, visa-issues, etc etc.

On a personal note, I find Miss Stahlhaver's application somewhat distressing, and sincerely hope that, should her application be denied, you will have the good manners to assist in her speedy and safe return.

Attatchment below:
http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?p=8554479#post8554479


Director Suse Randall sighed, and hit 'send'. Maybe they will take one look at her, and deny it?? the thought was both forlorn, and sadly hopeful. No one should be sent off to a foreign land alone. Especially to be placed in some...Monarch's private bordello... she looked up at Jason Stahlhaver. "Okay, I did it... give me back the tapes." her tone was imperative, as she added, "Selling your daughter off like that..."

Gordon shook his balding, gray, head, "Suze, Suze, Suze... here are the tapes, and for your information, this is the best I can do for Engred, if she gets in there, she will never have to worry about being poor-when I and her mother are gone... besides, she understands."

Suse took the tape, "This is the only copy?" she asked.

he nodded, "May I draw the Almighty's attention if it is not-your secret is safe enough now."

A message is sent, written in flowery script.

To the government of Vastiva,

I am most interested in appearing for review before His Magnificence, if that is at all possible. I am a bit on the small side, standing at only 5' 6", so I hope that is not a problem. I recently graduated with a degree in International Politics from the University of Valak, and I have spent several months awaiting a diplomatic post. However, the opportunity to live in the land of Vastiva is far too wondrous to ignore; I must at the very least see your nation in person! I await your reply most anxiously and I thank you for considering my candidacy.

Lady Medea Lakat

Maintaining an outer-most orbit around the planet Jupiter in the Sol System, the Krowemohian Comm Relay Station was a space station built for three purposes. Gathering information and intelligence, intercepting transmissions sent from any planet in the Sol System, and acting as the center focus point for all Sol System news sent to the Corporations on planet Krowemoh. It featured a live-in crew of five hundred Vector Industries employees, as Vector Industries alone owned the rights to manafacture Communication Relay Stations, and hasn't yet opted to include Gowa Industries or Ultor Corporation employees in staffing the stations.

Each station featured an advanced, Self-Improving Self-Learning AI Matrix, usually designated 'Mother.' This AI Matrix is the center of the comm station, its processing power greater then anything the Nekos could ever hope to achieve. The AI was needed to process the endless transmissions intercepted hourly.

Within the main Communication Blister sat ten computer terminals in a semi-circle around the Mother AI Matrix Terminal. As usual, two Vector employees staffed the blister, reviewing transmissions Mother gives them. One such transmissions was the Vastiva request for Harem girl.

"... Oi... This is interesting. Some Sultan or another wants a new slew of Harem girls." The female communcation technican noted, flagging the Vastivan transmission, forwarding it to her work shift partner.

"Eh... Well, hell. Good for him. I need my own Harem. This kind of work builds up stresses only a Harem could relieve." He sent the transmission back to the orginating terminal.

"Blah. Who'd wanna be in YOUR Harem?" The first spat back, preparing the transmission for relay back to Krowemoh.

"Plenty of people."

"I bet none of them are real, and your hands don't count... Anyways, Mother, please flag this message and relay it to the Department Head of Foriegn Relations at the Vector Industries Corporate Headquarters on Planet Krowemoh. Better give it Gate Gen priority."

Mother had already learned to associate 'Gate Gen' with Gate Generator, the massive ring shaped object near the Comm Relay Station which acted as a means of near instantanous travel between the Nameless Star System and the Sol System. Sending a signal to the Gate Station, Mother copies the transmission into her digital Storage Matrix and sends the transmission through the Gate.

A full day passes before there is a reaction to the transmission.

A Ultor Corporation VIP Shuttle passes through the Gate Generator, relaying it's intent to the Comm Relay Station.

~~~~~~~~~

Official Reply to Vastiva
To: Grand Viser Raahmid Javani (Email Unknown/Hidden)
From: Junior Advisor Kera Light (KLight@GowaIndustries.corp), Handmaiden to Diplomat Zukie Irawata (Email Withheld)
Subject: Application for his Sultan's Harem

Greetings and Salutations. I am Junior Advisor Kera Light, personal Handmaiden to Diplomat Zukie Irawata, representing Gowa Industries, of the Corporate Empire of Krowemoh.
I have been tasked with relaying the decision of Gowa Industries, one of the three Mega-Corporations governing the Corporate Empire of Krowemoh, to submit a suitable female for admission into the personal Harem of the Magificant Sultan of Vastiva.
Gowa Industries wishes to extend one of our talented members of the Diplomatic Staff as a token of good will with no underlying obligations, with the option of diplomatic and business relations in the near future.
We expect that it shall take a day before our shuttle arrives in Vastiva. Please feel free to respond and ask questions concerning Maiden Irawata, Gowa Industries, or one of the other two Mega-Corporations. I shall be honored to answer any questions you may have.
May you walk on warm sands.

-Kera Light

Pressing the 'send' button, the young blue haired catgirl smiles, cracking her knuckles. "Now, we wait..."


((OOC: Please take note, Zukie's "Email address" isn't 'ZIrawata@GowaIndustries.corp,' so if you decide to try and contact Zukie directly, you'll get a message undeliverable notice. :D Letting ya know...))

Stretching her arms, Kera stands and accidently BUMPs her head against the bulkhead. "OW! Geez, that's gonna leave a mark..." She says, rubbing her forehead tentatively with one hand.

The only other occupant in the Shuttle lounge at that time, a Neko Lawyer who works for Gowa Industries, stifles back a chuckle...

This inconspicuous (aka subliminal) BUMP is brought to you by Geico. A fifteen minute call to Geico can save you 15% or more on your car insurance!

(OOC No need to bump, luv, I post nearly every day somewhere and this thread has my attention. It's just labor-intensive)

***

Murhaba,

My name is Duchess Asiya Saleh and I write you to convey my grand niece's wishes to join the Sultan's harem. For what reason I can personally not fathom, but she has completed her basic schooling and has demonstrated to me, as the head of the family and the House of Alexandria, that she posseses enough maturity to make this decision for herself. As such, and with the Empress' blessing, I ask that at the very least she be granted an audience.

Now that basic introductions are over I shall start describing my niece. First, her name is Sadira Saleh. She is 16 years of age, is roughly 5'10" tall, 145 pounds in weight, and her measurements according to my seamstress are 36-26-34. She is a master in Aikijutsu and is just beginning her training in Kenjutsu. As I said earlier, her basic schooling is complete; her linguistics, foreign relations, and world history I would rate as excellent, while she is above average in all of her other topics. She is fluent in the following languages: English, Danish, Arabic, Chinese, and Russian. She also knows bit and pieces of another forty or so dialects and distinct languages.

Finally, onto a couple of special requests. Because I have never had any children I have designated her my heir and by Imperial law she must remain a citizen of the Imperium; she has voiced no desire to give up her position and indeed has expressed interest in following in my footsteps once she retires, if there is a problem with this I would request something be said now while we can still negotiate. Second, I request that she be allowed to take long-distance study courses from the University of Alexandria, it is needful that she continue her education if she is to have a future after her service to the Sultan. Finally, if you have a certified Sensei available in the art of Aikijutsu I request that she be granted access to continue her studies in that art as well, if you do not Sensei Ueshiba is willing to travel with my grand niece.

Ma'salama,
Duchess Asiya Saleh

As-salaam alaykum,

It is indeed an honor to have a representative from our long ally, Scandinavian States, apply for a position in the household of our Sultan.

Our first concern is propriety. In Vastiva, the age of consent stands at fifteen, as we do have a mandatory conscription program at eighteen, which leads invariably to military and/or civil service, during which period further education is available while in service. At the moment, our factbook does not express the “age of consent” or “age of maturity” for your nation, and we are hesitant to create any sort of international incident. We would state, for clarity, that being beneath this age would not immediately disqualify her, but merely change her status should she be accepted.

Most certainly, her schooling will be seen to, should she be accepted. Vastiva has several excellent universities, several of which will be instrumental in assuring proper education of all accepted candidates – my apologies, but our history, and at least a refresher course in diplomacy and etiquette are required. If accepted, we will make arrangements for tele- or holo-courses from your nation, or any other medium you deem acceptable. We shall also be most happy to accommodate Sensei Ueshiba, at reasonable salary, for the completion of her training and perhaps some trading of technique with our local practitioners.

As to citizenship; due to the nature of the problem, perhaps a temporary dual citizenry would be a compromise both could live with? An understanding that, should our law be broken, extradition would be granted, save for treasonous offense?

We shall require a copy of her vaccination and other medical records, a full copy of any foreign travel, and such. You may outfit her however you like, we shall see to any particular needs. We are not currently restricting contact of any sort with any NATO power, so she will have complete freedom of access - I shall have to allow the technophillic of our staff to discuss protocols and the like with your staff, but her contact with you will not be restricted at this time.

In the interest of keeping a level playing field between all the potential candidates, we shall be sending a VAL 74SL to your nation to pick her up and deliver her to Gardemeister Aeroport, along with the other international candidates. Will a week be sufficient time for her to make necessary arrangements?

Please do contact me directly with any concerns you may have, I have appended my direct line to this communication.

Namaste,
Raahmid Javani
Grand Vizier,
Humble Servant of His Magnificence, the Sultan of Vastiva

Set off from the bustle and towering constructions of Nova Hope Proper is Kanku. Uncommonly green for this country Kanku was a hybrid and a contradiction of sorts. The feudal Japanese architecture was illuminated by oil lamp. The streets were hand laid cobblestone, yet just beneath those coble stones rain high bandwidth fibre optics. Disguised in the protective gargoyles were microwave transmitters. The settlement produced no emissions, negligible light pollution, and yet had at the same time all of the conveniences of any of the other modern Polis in Nova Hope.

The President always felt out of place here, he seemed too informal. The man was wearing a suit worth 2,300crds, yet when he stood beside even the lower orders here in Kanku he felt that some of the dignity of his stature was lost, though they were the ones bowing so deeply. Looking about the Presidential VTOL as it gracefully touched down in the courtyard the President could see the Daimyo Kenji Kamigawa standing between the stone pillars that lead the way into his antechamber. As soon as the light signaled that the VTOL was safe to exit the President moved briskly from his seat and into the open air courtyard. Approaching the Daimyo he reciprocated the deep bow. The Daimyo was many years the President’s senior, it seemed almost odd that he had an undying loyalty to serve the President. The Daimyo’s warm voice rolled into a slow Japanese dialect.
“Hello Mr. President, welcome back to my humble fiefdom.” Without missing a beat the President retuned in the same dialect, though with less comfort as he spoke traditional Japanese, as apposed to this regionally developed dialect.
“Hello Daimyo. I am honoured to return, though my time is short.”
“Of course, we will see the girl now then.”

Walking in past the antechamber and into the decorative throne room the pair quickly made their way into the main hall, only to turn into the private residences where the girl in question sat in perfect pose.

She was geisha and done up entirely in the formal attire. Looking up but not breaking her pose the girl continued to sit as if they’d not entered the room. The President took slow strides about her in a circle as he sized her up. Addressing her in the same dialect he began to ask questions.
“What’s your name?”
“Shizuka.”
“You’re prepared.”
“Yes sir.”
“How are you trained?”
“Very well, I have degrees in Anthropology and mastery of several languages that may prove especially beneficial.” Looking up at the Daimyo the President nods approvingly,
“Send her with the letter.”

(more to come, after sleep...)

To: Namaste,
Raahmid Javani
Grand Vizier,
Humble Servant of His Magnificence, the Sultan of Vastiva...

From: Office of External Contact and Affairs, Rogue Nation of Cadillac Gage c/o Director Suze Randall, Undersecretary of External Contacts and Affairs

Re: This office has agreed to forward a rather peculiar request from a citizen of Cadillac Gage to your excellency. Attatched is the Personnel File and Official State Records of a citizen of this country, whom is petitioning for permission to interview for the position of... I can't even type this... 'Harem Girl'.
Because this position places one of our nationals into a permanent position outside both home border, and Jurisdiction, I am obligated to serve as the initial contact... I am obligated by my duty to forward the request, personnel files, and any further information your nation requires to bring this... business to a satisfactory end.
I am obligated also to obtain from your offices a complete listing of what attire, personal effects, and sundry items Ms. Stahlhaver will be advised to bring with her during the processing and interview period, and what sorts of personal effects Ms. Stahlhaver is advised not to bring with her.

Upon confirmation, I am further required to pass on whatever diplomatic documentation will be necessary to facilitate her travel, including identity documentation, visa-issues, etc etc.

On a personal note, I find Miss Stahlhaver's application somewhat distressing, and sincerely hope that, should her application be denied, you will have the good manners to assist in her speedy and safe return.

Ab-shalom and greetings;

We are most sorrowful the descriptive term you did choose to use caused you such distress. Perhaps using a different word, such as “courtesan”, would be less offensive? Our Sultan oft uses “Dalal”, which in our language means “treated or touched in a kind and loving way”. Indeed, many of our citizens refer to their children as “dalal”, with the ‘capitalized’ version being a more… friendly reference to those in the harem.

As it could be inferred you have a dim view of our nation, I have attached a copy of the last World Factbook Entry (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Vastiva) for Vastiva; we do freely admit it is neither complete nor current, but you can be assured there are members of my staff working upon correcting those errors which exist, or have come to exist.

We will also give some clarity where we have most obviously given confusion. "Namaste" is not a title, nor a person - it is used in our land as a way of saying "good day". I believe one translation to be "the holy in me acknowledges the holy in you".

It is hoped this clears up the confusion.

We shall require a copy of her vaccination and other medical records, a full copy of any foreign travel, and such. A passport and like materials would be of great benefit, most assuredly we do thank you for the offer. Should her citizenship be altered, does your nation require these materials returned, or is notification of their seizure sufficient?

You may outfit her however you like, we shall see to any particular needs which are excluded. We do advise against any item which could be inferred as a toxin, or other such “subtle” means of…. Ah, but I am most certain you do perceive the sort of things which we do not allow. A personal weapon is, of course, approved if she so desires, though it is by no means required.

We are currently arranging transportation for your citizen, Engred Stalhaver, to travel to Vastiva; a VAL 74SL shall be her personal conveyance from your nation to ours and I shall indeed make it my personal pleasure to introduce her to the Sultan.

If my office can be of any further assistance, please do not hesitate to contact me.

Namaste,
Raahmid Javani
Grand Vizier,
Humble Servant of His Magnificence, the Sultan of Vastiva

Tag

Wa alaykum as-salaam,

The Imperium's age of consent is 16 years and since she is verging on seventeen any legal objection I might have raised went out the window. Were it otherwise, I would have not allowed it and neither, for that matter, would the Empress.

Sadira has expressed her thanks in being allowed to continue her education and would be a more than willing subject for any tests the Sultan requires. As she has already paid for a full semester of summer courses, it is probably best that remote access be set up for the upcoming semester at least, although she has mentioned to me that it is not out of the realm of possibility that she might transfer to a university in Vastiva for convenience's sake.

Sensei Ueshiba sends his gratitude to the Sultan for being allowed to continue the tutelage of what he describes as, "a most promising student." However, he wonders what concerns your Palace Guard might have with there being Katanas with live blades around the Sultan on a regular basis. He also wonders if the Sultan is a student of the martial arts and if perhaps he would honor the Sensei by his presence in the dojo.

The arrangements you have suggested are adequate, although my niece wonders if the Sultan would be willing to grant something more permanent. Our laws do not expressly forbid members of the nobility from holding dual-citizenships, just so long as they are citizens in good standing of the Imperium.

As for the travel arrangements and documents, that is all fine. I thank you for allowing me regular contact with my niece once she arrives in Vastiva, I imagine it will ease the pains of seperation somewhat.

Ma'salaama,
Duchess Asiya Saleh,
On Behalf of Lady Sadira Saleh

A message is sent, written in flowery script.

To the government of Vastiva,

I am most interested in appearing for review before His Magnificence, if that is at all possible. I am a bit on the small side, standing at only 5' 6", so I hope that is not a problem. I recently graduated with a degree in International Politics from the University of Valak, and I have spent several months awaiting a diplomatic post. However, the opportunity to live in the land of Vastiva is far too wondrous to ignore; I must at the very least see your nation in person! I await your reply most anxiously and I thank you for considering my candidacy.

Lady Medea Lakat

Ab-shalom and greetings, Lady Lakat.

We are most happy to accept your application. We would ask for copies of your medical and vaccination history, a copy of any foreign travel you have undertaken, and a short biography to be forwarded to our office, along with a recent photograph – a copy of your passport will most certainly do, though it is of course always a good thing to have other views of such things.

You may bring with you whatever you like – rest assured, Vastiva will outfit you with any lack, or desire you have; indeed, these items shall remain yours whatever the outcome.

A Vastivan Air Lines (VAL) 74SL shall be dispatched within the week to convey you to Vastiva - travel documentations will follow under separate cover, with a copy available at any VAL counter - it is sincerely hoped six days is enough to tend to your affairs. Rest assured, financial concerns are not a concern, and the Sultanate will gladly take upon itself any considerations which would impede your travel. We do realize a plane of that size may seem excessive, but the Sultan would wish for you to enjoy your travel to our nation, as good beginnings make for good voyages.

Namaste,
Raahmid Javani
Grand Vizier,
Humble Servant of His Magnificence, the Sultan of Vastiva

Official Reply to Vastiva
To: Grand Viser Raahmid Javani (Email Unknown/Hidden)
From: Junior Advisor Kera Light (KLight@GowaIndustries.corp), Handmaiden to Diplomat Zukie Irawata (Email Withheld)
Subject: Application for his Sultan's Harem

Greetings and Salutations. I am Junior Advisor Kera Light, personal Handmaiden to Diplomat Zukie Irawata, representing Gowa Industries, of the Corporate Empire of Krowemoh.
I have been tasked with relaying the decision of Gowa Industries, one of the three Mega-Corporations governing the Corporate Empire of Krowemoh, to submit a suitable female for admission into the personal Harem of the Magificant Sultan of Vastiva.
Gowa Industries wishes to extend one of our talented members of the Diplomatic Staff as a token of good will with no underlying obligations, with the option of diplomatic and business relations in the near future.
We expect that it shall take a day before our shuttle arrives in Vastiva. Please feel free to respond and ask questions concerning Maiden Irawata, Gowa Industries, or one of the other two Mega-Corporations. I shall be honored to answer any questions you may have.
May you walk on warm sands.

-Kera Light


Ab-shalom and greetings;

Would you be so kind as to inform us as to the nature, and person, of this applicant?

If your shuttle will first inform our Tudrussel orbital platform upon your arrival, so we can arrange for regional and local defenses to be suitably informed of your presence, we would greatly appreciate the gesture.

Admittedly, we are confused – is the diplomat supposed to be the applicant, or do we read more into this?

We await your response.

Namaste,
Raahmid Javani
Grand Vizier,
Humble Servant of His Magnificence, the Sultan of Vastiva

Greetings Honorable Sultan,

Though the Reich is currently in an extremly shaky political situation, with the Reich on the verge of civil war, the Emperor gone, the Royal family away, and our ever growing plans under-handed to destroy our sworn enemy Guffingford, we our interested in growing relations with your nation.

So, it is with hope that I propose a noble lady, Josephine Wyklansia, a maiden of the imperial court to add to your harem. She has brown hair, is about 5'6', and has blue eyes. She has a vibrant personailty, and enjoys such things as classical music, flowers, and fine art.

We await your response.

A portrait of Josephine: http://www.napoleonguide.com/images/josephineb1.jpg


General Willhelm Reinhard,
Devoted to the utter destruction of Guffingford.
http://www.diggerhistory.info/images/uniforms3/Waffen-SS.jpg

Belle drew in a deep sigh as she heard they were entering Gardemeister Aeroport. She was currently clad in a loose fitting white t-shirt and jeans, not exactly suitable for the cold weather of Antarctica, nor for the eyes of the Sultan, but she'd brought a more proper dress in her suit case, so she would just change later.

Still, she was rather nervous about the whole thing. It kind of did go against her sexuality to be in the Harem of a male Sultan, but what ever. She always wanted to see the world and stuff, this was probably a good way to do it. She buckeled her seat belt as the plane screached into the airport and began to slow to a halt.

Looking out, the Aeroport looked like an assortment of red igloos, nothing like she thought, but again, what ever. She drew in a deep breath, and unbuckeled her self, and sat up from her seat, grabbing her luggage from the over head apartment. After the portable stairs had been set up, she proceeded out the plane.

Officialreply to Vastiva
To: Grand Vizier Raahmid Javani (Email Unknown/Hidden)
From: Junior Advisor Kera Light (KLight@GowaIndustries.corp), Handmaiden to Diplomat Zukie Irawata (Email Withheld)
Subject: Re: Re: Application for his Sultan's Harem

Pardon, I wasn't as clear as I thought I was in my privous message.

Zukie Irawata, a long standing member of Gowa Industries' Diplomatic Staff and a First Class Citizen of Krowemoh, has volunteered to apply for the position, and CEO Kwinzinka Gowa has approved her request. As her Personal Handmaiden, I am bound by contract to accompany her. I myself am a Third Class Citizen and as such it is improper for me to hold the same job as a Higher Classed Citizen. So while I shall remain her Handmaiden, I am prevented by Krowemohian Codes of Conduct to apply for this position. I trust this will not pose any problems?

Krowemohians are a breed of Nekos, or more commonly refered to as 'catpeople.' In a nutshell, we are humans with cat-like traits.

I've attached a copy of Zukie's Corporate Database Personal Information File. The file includes her work history, background, an up-to-date file photo, birthdate, and other information gathered by the Corporations for employment. Please be aware that information within the file that is deemed trade secret or which could be harmful to Corporate profits in the wrong hands will be censored.
Also, I shall advise our pilot to contact your Orbital Platform before our arrival.

May you walk on warm sands.

-Kera Light

~Corporate Database Personal Information File Attached~
~~Decrypted for Raahmid Javani's Eyes Only~~
Name: Zukie Sol Irawata
Birthdate: May /13 /178 ACU(After Corporate Unification)
Age: 20
Citizen Class: Exectutive First
Citizen Barcode Number: 01-1085-695-7290-93-01
Corporate Barcode Secqencer: *CENSORED*
Corporate Affilaite: Gowa Industries
File Photo: Zukie Irawata (http://premium1.uploadit.org/BetaVerisonX//1085695729093.jpg)
CEO General Notes: Zukie Irawata is the daughter of Chairman of the Board *CENSORED* Irawata. As such, she had her pick of any job within Gowa Industries, but choose Diplomancy as her career, centering on Foriegn Employment. An outstanding citizen with no negative marks on her file, Zukie enbodies all the traits of a First Class Citizen, and should be used as the standard for which Citizens should try to role model after. Zukie Irawata comes with the personal recommendation of CEO Kwinzinka Gowa, of Gowa Industries.
CEO Notes on Education: Zukie Irawata graduated from her Secondary School ahead of her class with honors, and attended the Krowemohian Advanced College for Exectutives, receiving a degree in Public Administration, Diplomatic Reasoning, and Foriegn Policies.
CEO Notes on Employment Histroy: Zukie Irawata has always worked for Gowa Industries, having been reserved a job of her choosing from the day of her birth. Before switching to the Diplomatic Staff, Zukie worked as a General Administrator for Internal Communications.
CEO Notes on Kera Light: Kera Light is bound by contract to serve the Irawata Family until such a time that her debt to them is repaid. It was decided by the head of the family that Kera would serve as Zukie's personal servant through-out the duration of her contract. Kera Light is a Third Class Citizen of little consenqence and even fewer skills, but is loyal to Zukie and her contract through and through.


((OOC: Actually... That's probably more confusing... @_@ lol I forgot about the different Citizen Classes in Krowemoh. Next chance I get, I'll add it to the World Factbook entry. >_> Oh, and all Krowemohian citizens (Except for the CEOs of the Big Three) have barcodes on the back of their necks. :D))

Wa alaykum as-salaam,

The Imperium's age of consent is 16 years and since she is verging on seventeen any legal objection I might have raised went out the window. Were it otherwise, I would have not allowed it and neither, for that matter, would the Empress.

Sadira has expressed her thanks in being allowed to continue her education and would be a more than willing subject for any tests the Sultan requires. As she has already paid for a full semester of summer courses, it is probably best that remote access be set up for the upcoming semester at least, although she has mentioned to me that it is not out of the realm of possibility that she might transfer to a university in Vastiva for convenience's sake.

Sensei Ueshiba sends his gratitude to the Sultan for being allowed to continue the tutelage of what he describes as, "a most promising student." However, he wonders what concerns your Palace Guard might have with there being Katanas with live blades around the Sultan on a regular basis. He also wonders if the Sultan is a student of the martial arts and if perhaps he would honor the Sensei by his presence in the dojo.

The arrangements you have suggested are adequate, although my niece wonders if the Sultan would be willing to grant something more permanent. Our laws do not expressly forbid members of the nobility from holding dual-citizenships, just so long as they are citizens in good standing of the Imperium.

As for the travel arrangements and documents, that is all fine. I thank you for allowing me regular contact with my niece once she arrives in Vastiva, I imagine it will ease the pains of seperation somewhat.

Ma'salaama,
Duchess Asiya Saleh,
On Behalf of Lady Sadira Saleh


As-salaam alaykum,

Our universities shall be at her beck and call, should such become her desire. We do note, however, that the staff within the Palace is more then adequate, and any professor is more then willing to submit to the honor of teaching one within the Palace grounds.

We would note, for her own sake, a view from near my office – this is the last week of sun we are to have for the next six months. (http://www.geocities.com/askeptic1c/NACREOUSCLOUDS7.jpg) It is much hoped she can endure the five months of darkness which are to come – though I would urge her to be not dismayed, as this does give Vastiva a most ample opportunity to show off her night life.

Our Palace Guards are aware of many guests who have occasion to be armed while in the Palace – the right to carry weaponry is one of our fundamental. In view of this, it is often the case one finds oneself disarmed in the presence of His Magnificence.

Please do convey our appreciation to Sensei Ueshiba for his kind offer, I shall forward it to our Sultan when he returns from abroad. To be sure, he is likely as not to agree to an exchange of technique; he does have an interest in such things, though you will excuse if this is not discussed in depth. I also ask your understanding if the want for “something more permanent” is not completely understood – if this could be made more clear, perhaps a better answer then my own confusion could be found?

We thank you for your niece’s documentation, and shall see to her safety as one of our own.

I thank you personally for your response, and your concern. If there is any manner in which I may allay your fears, please do but ask – I am entirely at your service.

Namaste,
Raahmid Javani
Grand Vizier,
Humble Servant of His Magnificence, the Sultan of Vastiva

Belle drew in a deep sigh as she heard they were entering Gardemeister Aeroport. She was currently clad in a loose fitting white t-shirt and jeans, not exactly suitable for the cold weather of Antarctica, nor for the eyes of the Sultan, but she'd brought a more proper dress in her suit case, so she would just change later.

Still, she was rather nervous about the whole thing. It kind of did go against her sexuality to be in the Harem of a male Sultan, but what ever. She always wanted to see the world and stuff, this was probably a good way to do it. She buckeled her seat belt as the plane screached into the airport and began to slow to a halt.

Looking out, the Aeroport looked like an assortment of red igloos, nothing like she thought, but again, what ever. She drew in a deep breath, and unbuckeled her self, and sat up from her seat, grabbing her luggage from the over head apartment. After the portable stairs had been set up, she proceeded out the plane.


Even from high above, Sisu Vaari stands out against the bleak landscape, a series of marbles on the snow-laden plain. Each and every building is either glassed and crystaled to within an inch of its life – leading to several thoughts about disco balls – or painted in kaleidoscopic fashion.

Approach to Gardemeister Aeroport shows a continuation of theme. Each building is painted dominantly in red and orange, with decorative paintworks added to the lower edges. Ground crew wears combinations of red and green striping, red and orange striping, red and yellow striping, or solid red. Each and every appears to be designed for maximum visibility – even in the limited light the sunset (http://www.geocities.com/askeptic1c/NACREOUSCLOUDS7.jpg) allows, the ground crew stands out from a fair distance.

As the plane taxied towards the gate, the pilot is repeatedly warned “Do not open the outer door until the tramway is firmly affixed to the plane”.

With a jar, it meets – with a hiss, it seals itself to the side of the plane with a simple vacuum.

“Welcome to Sisu Vaari, where the local time is 1154 am, the local temperature a balmy -36 degrees Celsius. Local weather calls for fog, to be followed by…”

…but she is out of the plane and through the concourse.

As she steps into the airport proper, she is confronted by three women. Two – those flanking – wear simple green robes, green cloth covering their face, and green headcloths. Both also wear scimitars on one side, FN90P submachine guns on the other.

The central figure, however, wears a loose fitting burnoose, at first appearing to be of deep blue cloth richly embroidered with silver runes and patterns; but as she moves the inside and lining became more in evidence as fur and leather cunningly worked to allow full freedom of movement with little availability of the wearer to the elements. Her boots are decorated with a double strand of silver thread woven into patterns mimicking those on the burnoose; a double looping anklet of small silver coins and runestones adorns her left boot. Topping the ensemble off, a blue-white headcloth with silver ribbon entwined within and without.

Wordlessly, she smiles, then with her right hand touches her forehead, heart, then spreads her hand as she gives a courteous bow.

“Ab-shalom, and greetings, candidate. I am Drayaa Kiilgalen, deputy to the Grand Vizier. I welcome you to Vastiva in the name of our Sultan. Was it a pleasing flight?”

She makes no move to introduce her escorts, nor does she draw any attention to the black-clad figures on a higher level, looking about with determination as the crowd mystically parts around the four. Other visitors to this nation are herded to the many customs desks, where red-jacketed individuals listen, smile, hand out pamphlets, and make the beginning of the stay as pleasant as possible.

“Your luggage will be seen to, have no fear,” Drayaa continues. “And most certainly, if your attire is comfortable there is no great need to change it. Though, of course, we have much time to peruse the local shops, if you have a wish to look to see what there is to offer. Perhaps some sightseeing – or are you tired from your journey? Famished? Parched?”

She gives a nervous smile and another short bow. “Many apologies, candidate, but indeed your presence – it is a little overwhelming to a simple servant of our Sultan. Please, but indicate your preference, and we shall attend to your pleasure."

Ab-shalom and greetings;

We are most sorrowful the descriptive term you did choose to use caused you such distress. Perhaps using a different word, such as “courtesan”, would be less offensive? Our Sultan oft uses “Dalal”, which in our language means “treated or touched in a kind and loving way”. Indeed, many of our citizens refer to their children as “dalal”, with the ‘capitalized’ version being a more… friendly reference to those in the harem.

As it could be inferred you have a dim view of our nation, I have attached a copy of the last World Factbook Entry (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Vastiva) for Vastiva; we do freely admit it is neither complete nor current, but you can be assured there are members of my staff working upon correcting those errors which exist, or have come to exist.

We will also give some clarity where we have most obviously given confusion. "Namaste" is not a title, nor a person - it is used in our land as a way of saying "good day". I believe one translation to be "the holy in me acknowledges the holy in you".

It is hoped this clears up the confusion.

We shall require a copy of her vaccination and other medical records, a full copy of any foreign travel, and such. A passport and like materials would be of great benefit, most assuredly we do thank you for the offer. Should her citizenship be altered, does your nation require these materials returned, or is notification of their seizure sufficient?

You may outfit her however you like, we shall see to any particular needs which are excluded. We do advise against any item which could be inferred as a toxin, or other such “subtle” means of…. Ah, but I am most certain you do perceive the sort of things which we do not allow. A personal weapon is, of course, approved if she so desires, though it is by no means required.

We are currently arranging transportation for your citizen, Engred Stalhaver, to travel to Vastiva; a VAL 74SL shall be her personal conveyance from your nation to ours and I shall indeed make it my personal pleasure to introduce her to the Sultan.

If my office can be of any further assistance, please do not hesitate to contact me.

Namaste,
Raahmid Javani
Grand Vizier,
Humble Servant of His Magnificence, the Sultan of Vastiva


Suse Randall took a deep breath, let it out, and began...


To:Raahmid Javani
Grand Vizier,
Humble Servant of His Magnificence, the Sultan of Vastiva

From: Suse Randall, Director External Contacts and Affairs, Cadillac Gage

RE: Enclosed is the vaccination and travel history for Engred Stahlhaver, per your request. My apologies for the tone of my earlier communication. At that time, I was unaware of your National custom. Neither the shot records, nor Miss Stahlhaver's travel folio is a 'return item' should her citizenship alter.

I must explain myself, I presume you are a discreet man...
I was quite upset at the time over the nature of the forwarding of her request, and the person I was and am angry at is quite untouchable for a number of reasons. While I am satisfied that your intentions are honourable, I can not say the same of others- Miss Stahlhaver is being used as a pawn, in my opinion, in a subtle conflict within her family, and I do not trust the motives or motivations of her Father in the least. Nor, I believe, should you. I have met with Engred, and while quite intelligent, I fear she is also quite naive in many ways, do keep an eye out for her, will you?

Your craft has landing clearance at the number four runway at Detrojtja National Aerodrome, and we have reserved concourse D, which is used for military and government craft, Gate 2, this should be, I hope, suitable for your purposes as it is fully enclosed from the weather, insulated, and heated.
do advise your aviators to be cautious on their approach, as this time of year the weather is fully 'in' and there may be fog or other problems

Again, I apologize for the tone of my earlier communque'.

The President of the Assembly, Gregir Halvorssen has requested that I forward to your government the offer of an embassy to prevent future mistakes. I have agreed to do so without reluctance. Please contact me with your reply, and any specifications you may have on this, separate, matter.


[ooc: Engred's shots are up-to-date for most common illnesses. Like most of her people (noted in the Factbook I posted earlier), she's never been out of the country-her homeland has few foreign contacts at all, and currently only two foreign embassies on their soil, and one under construction. "Provincial" doesn't begin to describe it in comparison. Factbook Entry: http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=409150. Some of it is still incomplete, but time issues...]

OOC: I love being ignored.

OOC: I love being ignored.

OOC: Do give me a little slack, I shall reply to you tomorrow. Promise you are not being ignored, I am simply planning on getting more then an hour of sleep.

OOC: I love being ignored.

((OOC: Umh. You NOT being ignored. He just writes long arse posts. He's prolly writing the reaction to your post RIGHT NOW. >_> So, wait for a few minutes, okay?

EDIT: lol Oops. Not quite as fast as I should have been. Okay. Well, see you later Vestiva. I gotta get some sleep too, least I resemble the waking dead tomorrow... >_>))

Laying back on the comfy seating, Kera sighs and pushes the seat back, forming it into a bed, of sorts. This she lays on, and closes her eyes. If she recieves a reply, her laptop will beep excessively loud, thus waking her.

"I'll just... Take a wee lil' kitty nap..." She whispers, closing her eyes and drifting off...

OOC: Yeah well I get paranoid when people dont respond to me, for fear they ARE ignoring me. I know I am not the best RPer there is, but I dont warrant an IGNORE cannon.

Greetings Honorable Sultan,

Though the Reich is currently in an extremly shaky political situation, with the Reich on the verge of civil war, the Emperor gone, the Royal family away, and our ever growing plans under-handed to destroy our sworn enemy Guffingford, we our interested in growing relations with your nation.

So, it is with hope that I propose a noble lady, Josephine Wyklansia, a maiden of the imperial court to add to your harem. She has brown hair, is about 5'6', and has blue eyes. She has a vibrant personailty, and enjoys such things as classical music, flowers, and fine art.

We await your response.

A portrait of Josephine: http://www.napoleonguide.com/images/josephineb1.jpg


General Willhelm Reinhard,
Devoted to the utter destruction of Guffingford.
http://www.diggerhistory.info/image...3/Waffen-SS.jpg


Ab-shalom and greetings;

Vastiva would be most honored to host your candidate, particularly in view of our recent decision to exchange embassies, and in view of your… “Devotion”.

We shall require a copy of her vaccination and other medical records, a full copy of any foreign travel, and such as is normally forwarded during a visa application and foreign travel. A passport and like materials would be of great benefit, but are not required.

You may outfit her however you like, we shall see to any particular needs which are excluded. We have appended a copy of our copy of our factbook (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Vastiva), which we sadly admit is a touch dated, though the climate information is still accurate.

Vastiva shall be sending a VAL 74SL to convey her to our land in a week’s time, which we do hope shall be sufficient to conclude any personal business outstanding.

On a more personal note, as we do most certainly believe in “the enemy of my enemy is my friend”, Vastiva would be willing to forward an aid package to help in the solidification of your nation, if such a thing would be… helpful in the furtherance of your devotion?

We await your response.

Namaste,
Raahmid Javani
Grand Vizier,
Humble Servant of His Magnificence, the Sultan of Vastiva

Officialreply to Vastiva
To: Grand Vizier Raahmid Javani (Email Unknown/Hidden)
From: Junior Advisor Kera Light (KLight@GowaIndustries.corp), Handmaiden to Diplomat Zukie Irawata (Email Withheld)
Subject: Re: Re: Application for his Sultan's Harem

Pardon, I wasn't as clear as I thought I was in my privous message.

Zukie Irawata, a long standing member of Gowa Industries' Diplomatic Staff and a First Class Citizen of Krowemoh, has volunteered to apply for the position, and CEO Kwinzinka Gowa has approved her request. As her Personal Handmaiden, I am bound by contract to accompany her. I myself am a Third Class Citizen and as such it is improper for me to hold the same job as a Higher Classed Citizen. So while I shall remain her Handmaiden, I am prevented by Krowemohian Codes of Conduct to apply for this position. I trust this will not pose any problems?

Krowemohians are a breed of Nekos, or more commonly refered to as 'catpeople.' In a nutshell, we are humans with cat-like traits.

I've attached a copy of Zukie's Corporate Database Personal Information File. The file includes her work history, background, an up-to-date file photo, birthdate, and other information gathered by the Corporations for employment. Please be aware that information within the file that is deemed trade secret or which could be harmful to Corporate profits in the wrong hands will be censored.
Also, I shall advise our pilot to contact your Orbital Platform before our arrival.

May you walk on warm sands.

-Kera Light


Ab-shalom and greetings;

Our first question would be – should Zukie be accepted into the harem, are you then both… available? Or what is the protocol of your culture?

We would also mention, the citizenship of the applicant, if accepted, is changed to that of Vastiva. This would, as a matter of due process, alter both of your citizenships in the case of acceptance, and Vastiva does not have multiple layers of citizenship. So this must indeed be discussed, as there may indeed be methods of equalizing positions, with some adjustments.

In either case, a copy of your file would appear to be in order.

We would also ask for a copy of your cultural protocols, as available.

We await your response.

Namaste,
Raahmid Javani
Grand Vizier,
Humble Servant of His Magnificence, the Sultan of Vastiva

Detrojtja National Airport, Cadillac Gage...

"...passport, identification documents, personal hygiene items...Yeah, I'd say I'm ready to go." Engred said with a smile.
"You don't Have to do this, I mean, it's such a long way, and in a foreign country." Sharon, her room-mate for four years at the uni said.
Engred shrugged, "Sharry, this is an Adventure, I promise I'll be careful, okay?"
she patted her friend on the arm, "Besides, this way you can invite whatsername, Gladys? to live in the room, so that you don't drive your next roomie crazy coming in from a date hammered and frustrated."

Sharon sniffed, "They're going to miss you at the shelter." she said.

Engred shrugged, "Marta and Magritte can handle those problems as well as I did-better, in some cases... besides, if I'm not going to meet guys anyway, I might as well not-meet them as a Lady of the Court in a faraway land, as not-dating here at home... and besides, he's cute."

Sharon rolled her eyes, "You know, I could juice off some of those excess hormones, if you'd just be a little more open to your, ah... options."

Engred giggled, "Now, Now, sharry, you know I don't go for that-you can try your wiles until the sun melts the mountains, and I will be forever immune to your feminine charms. I like boys, even when they're afraid of me."

Sharon sighed and rolled her eyes, "Your loss... you don't know what you're missing... I think your flight's here."

Engred looked over, and saw that the door was now under guard by a pair of gentlemen in quite exotic uniforms. "So it would seem...don't worry about me, worry about Naalstrom's Physics exam next week. I'll write you when I'm safely in Vastiva, and have a few minutes to pass on an update."

Sharon nodded, handed the carry-on to Engred, "YOu do that-or I'll gather a force of sisters, and we'll come to pry you out of that tower, you hear?"

Engred waved, "Farewell" and headed to the gate, pausing to check the temperature outside, before pulling her parka closed, and showing the men her I.D.

-45 degrees (F).

"Engred Stahlhaver?" one of them asked.

"Yes." she said, adding "See?" she held up her passport.
The man took it, examined it, and said, "right this way, your transport awaits."

And through the door she went.

Ab-shalom and greetings;

Vastiva would be most honored to host your candidate, particularly in view of our recent decision to exchange embassies, and in view of your… “Devotion”.

We shall require a copy of her vaccination and other medical records, a full copy of any foreign travel, and such as is normally forwarded during a visa application and foreign travel. A passport and like materials would be of great benefit, but are not required.

You may outfit her however you like, we shall see to any particular needs which are excluded. We have appended a copy of our copy of our factbook (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Vastiva), which we sadly admit is a touch dated, though the climate information is still accurate.

Vastiva shall be sending a VAL 74SL to convey her to our land in a week’s time, which we do hope shall be sufficient to conclude any personal business outstanding.

On a more personal note, as we do most certainly believe in “the enemy of my enemy is my friend”, Vastiva would be willing to forward an aid package to help in the solidification of your nation, if such a thing would be… helpful in the furtherance of your devotion?

We await your response.

Namaste,
Raahmid Javani
Grand Vizier,
Humble Servant of His Magnificence, the Sultan of Vastiva


We've sent the required medical and travel records, and the time frame is acceptable, we thank you. And onto the matter of the aid package, we accept of course. We will need all the help we can get in destroying the evil nation of Guffingford. As we speak, the Reich is still preparing for war, training soldiers, making weapons and such.

Though we are smaller then Guffingford, we have no fear of them. They shalt be destroyed by the almighty sword of justice.

OOC:

I thought I'd give this a try, and I appreciate you inviting me in. :D

=====================================
Area 7, deep inside the Rocky Mountains located somewhere in the former state of Utah.

A hand reached out, and groped blindly for a moment, trying to seek any type of soild reality. As the hand finally found purchase on a metallic railing, a small groan is heard. The sound carried through the small room, reaching an auditory organ, which translated the sound into an tangible language.

"Uhhh..."

A woman sat in the room, watching the entity whose the groan originated from. The entity was lying in a bed, along with several wires, needles, and arrayed computer displays. The entity had the appearance of a man, with a generous amount of bandages on the right side of his chest.

The man tried to speak, summoning every ounce of consciousness to do so.

"Whaaat?"

The woman put her hand on the man's hand, and began talking in a soft voice.

"Rand, I have news."

Rand gradually regained full consciousness and alertness, and tried to sit up, but the medical apparel prevented him from doing so.

"What news, Mina?"

Mina smiled as she continued patting Rand's left hand.

"There is news regarding one of our allies, Vastiva. They are apparently sending out invitations for some sort of diplomatic thing regarding women."

Rand gave off a small grunt.

"Vastiva, eh? I remember the whole Trudussel platform incident, as well as their friendly overtures in cultural and technological exchanges. They also spoke highly of our nation when Sharina applied to join NATO.

We must continue to court their favor, and maintain strong friendship ties with them. Friends are more precious and valuable than gold or platinum."

Rand closed his eyes, and breathed out deeply, as the effort of speech exhausted him. One computer display showed his heart rate slowing by a few heartbeats, signifying him sinking into a state of rest.

Mina nodded once towards Rand, even though it did not matter as Rand was asleep once again. However, she had to reassure herself that Rand was still alive after the assassination attempt. The assailants were believed to be from the Union of Federal Socialist Republics, in an attempt to destabilize the Sharina government. The attempt backfired, as Sharina citizens have become far more patriotic and fanatic about protecting their nation.

Mina rose up and left the room, deep in her thoughts.

=====================================
Several hours later:

Mina sighed as she finished composing the comminque to Vastiva. She slumped back in her chair, weary from the trials and demanding busineeses of running a large Technocracy.

Vastiva. A valuabke friend.

=====================================
Comminque to Vastiva:

Greetings.

I have heard that you are seeking some sort of diplomatic exchange, and that it is preferable for women to attend. As a friend, Sharina would like to inquire into the details and procedures that may take place in this diplomatic exchange.

I personally would very much like to continue our friendship, and develop even stronger bonds between our two nations. Friends are worth more than gold and platinum.

Please inform me of the specifics, and what Sharina can do to aid this diplomatic endeavour that you are holding.

Live well and prosper,
~President Mina Veristek

[i]Official reply to Vastiva
To: Grand Vizier Raahmid Javani (Email Unknown/Hidden)
From: Junior Advisor Kera Light (KLight@GowaIndustries.corp), Handmaiden to Diplomat Zukie Irawata (Email Withheld)
Subject: Re: Re: Application for his Sultan's Harem

Hmm... After a lengthy consultation with the Irawata Family lawyer, it has been decided that if Zukie is accepted for the position, then my 'availabilty status' would be decided by Zukie, as I, more or less, do belong to her.

Also, I mentioned to him the prospect of my citizenship being changed, and the lawyer said that even if I were Vestivan, the terms of my contract would still be binding. He is coming with us, so if you have any further concerns about my contract with the Irawatas, you should address them to him while signing the Corporate Release and Legal Indemity Forms.

I'll attach my Corporate Information file. Because I'm a Third Class Citizen, it won't be as flashy as Maiden Irawata's.

May you walk on warm sands.

-Kera Light
~Corporate Personal Information File Attached~
~~Decrypted for Raahmid Javani's Eyes Only~~
Name: Kera Von Light
Birthdate: September /20 /182 ACU(After Corporate Unification)
Age: 16
Citizen Class: Third
Special Citizen Class: *CENSORED*
Citizen Barcode Number: 01-1065-609-5552-82-01
Corporate Barcode Sequencer: *CENSORED*
Corporate Affiliate: VersaLife Corporation
File Photo: Kera Light (http://premium1.uploadit.org/BetaVerisonX//1065609555282.jpg)
CEO General Notes: Kera Light is the daughter of a VersaLife Corporation general laborer. However, due to her special status as a *CENSORED*, she is uneligible for employment.
CEO Notes on Education: Kera has attended and graduated her Secondary School with no remarkable or noteworthy actions, rewards, or achivements. 3.0 Grade average.
CEO Notes on Employment Histroy: *EMPLOYMENT HISTORY CENSORED BY CEO OR CORPORATE MAGISTRATE.*

~TEXT FILE ATTACHMENT (http://premium1.uploadit.org/BetaVerisonX//Codes-of-Conduct.txt)~ This Attachment is Varied Virus Free by Vector Industries Brand Anti-Virus Program!
Vector Industries. Making life a better place.



((OOC: Oh, and umh. Just so you know, Kera's Employment History is censored because, in a nutshell, she's collateral against a loan. The CEO of Gowa Industries had decided that this information would cause International Unrest in the wrong hands, and so Censored the information so that Corporate Productivity would not be interupted. But, ICly, you don't know that. Just letting you know OOCly so you don't get the wrong idea about Kera.))

Ab-shalom and greetings, Lady Lakat.

We are most happy to accept your application. We would ask for copies of your medical and vaccination history, a copy of any foreign travel you have undertaken, and a short biography to be forwarded to our office, along with a recent photograph – a copy of your passport will most certainly do, though it is of course always a good thing to have other views of such things.

You may bring with you whatever you like – rest assured, Vastiva will outfit you with any lack, or desire you have; indeed, these items shall remain yours whatever the outcome.

A Vastivan Air Lines (VAL) 74SL shall be dispatched within the week to convey you to Vastiva - travel documentations will follow under separate cover, with a copy available at any VAL counter - it is sincerely hoped six days is enough to tend to your affairs. Rest assured, financial concerns are not a concern, and the Sultanate will gladly take upon itself any considerations which would impede your travel. We do realize a plane of that size may seem excessive, but the Sultan would wish for you to enjoy your travel to our nation, as good beginnings make for good voyages.

Namaste,
Raahmid Javani
Grand Vizier,
Humble Servant of His Magnificence, the Sultan of Vastiva

Dear Grand Vizier Javani,

Enclosed are the documents you requested. Also, I have added a photograph of myself with two of my friends. I am the one in the center, with the long black hair in a red ribbon. I find my life unremarkable, though if one such as the Sultan is interested, I suppose I will attempt to include sufficient detail to keep his Lordship's interest. I was born and raised in the city of Valak to a Catholic missionary, though my father lost his faith during the darker times between the death of King Sylvan and the ascension of Lord Raijin's Commandership. I attended school there as a child and briefly sought employment in Torokara during the new government. A career in diplomacy was closed to those without the appropriate degree, however, so I returned to the University and studied international politics. My graduation was two years ago this June.

The reason for my abrupt decision to emigrate is that my parents suffered an accident while piloting a hover vehicle on their way to a friend's home last winter, and the complications proved fatal. As such, there is nothing to bind me to my home, unfortunate as it is to leave. The possibility of leaving behind much of my life's struggle and settling down, even if the one with whom I would live cannot give to me his undivided attention, is something that I can no longer ignore. I will be turning twenty-six next month, and I fear further delays in my selection of a partner and career will only worsen my situation. I apologize for being so terribly blunt, as this letter likely makes me look both rash and calculating at the same time, but the Kriovalian tendency to brutal honesty seems to have taken root in me totally.

I hope this information is of assistance.

Lady Medea Lakat
Valak City, Krioval

We've sent the required medical and travel records, and the time frame is acceptable, we thank you. And onto the matter of the aid package, we accept of course. We will need all the help we can get in destroying the evil nation of Guffingford. As we speak, the Reich is still preparing for war, training soldiers, making weapons and such.

Though we are smaller then Guffingford, we have no fear of them. They shalt be destroyed by the almighty sword of justice.

The huge VAL 74SL arrived in Tocrowkia, riding far heavier then an empty plane of it's size should have - indeed, if not for the skill of the crew, even the longest runway would not have been enough.

The pilot had called for an escort by members of the government, and the military - on arrival it became evident why.

The VAL plane unloaded fifteen tons of platinum from its cargo hold, all of it stamped with the Sultan's crest; an additional load of two hundred thousand FN-AS 5.3mm assault rifles, each with fifteen thousand rounds available, was unloaded directly to the military.

Finally, the pilot handed over documents giving Tocrowkia access to economic and military aid packages amounting to some fifteen billion USD.

With a salute - and a bit of fussing to be sure their passenger was aboard, safe, and comfortable, the box-wing plane took off, far lighter then it was before, but with no less a precious cargo.



OOC: Wanted to be sure you know you aren't being ignored - connection issues here. :D

In a period of seventy-two hours following the public announcement, the office of the Grand Vizier had processed just over a quarter million applications from all over the globe.

They had also hired two seamstresses and a chef by fiat from the various applications.


The Council of Viziers had voted – unanimously – to make the following Monday a State Holiday, in celebration. This, of course, would allow for the arrival of even more applications by those with sudden free time.


So far, Vastivan Air Lines had flown three hundred and eighteen “Special Flights”, logging over seven thousand flight hours. Crews were reportedly holding lotteries over who would serve on the next flight crew. Pilot Eileen Garrett was the current record holder with six – and she had been reported as saying she was hoping to make it to ten.


The Tower of Law and Justice issued a summary, conditional pardon for all those scheduled for execution that weekend. All six were given plane tickets – one way – to anywhere VAL flew and a liberty grant of 10,000 PC with which to begin their new lives.


All throughout the country, impromptu celebrations broke out – ranging from gatherings of sobbing women draining cases of wine, to students suddenly free of class and deciding to hold orgies, to a few demonstrations in support and a few in dissent. A candlelight vigil was held at Gardemeister Aeroport, where many hoped for a glimpse of the candidates.


The first set of collectable trading cards showed up two days later, giving name, nationality, measurements, a brief (and occasionally accurate) history – and the current odds.


Throughout the entire nation, its holdings, and many of its allies and “close neighbors”, there was a sense of celebration, of impeding change, of things to come. Everywhere one went, this feeling was palpable, a strong presence even in unrelated conversation. The question on everyone’s lips – “Who will the Sultan choose?”


Perhaps a better question might have been “When will the Sultan find out he has to choose?”

To:Raahmid Javani
Grand Vizier,
Humble Servant of His Magnificence, the Sultan of Vastiva

From: Suse Randall, Director External Contacts and Affairs, Cadillac Gage

RE: Enclosed is the vaccination and travel history for Engred Stahlhaver, per your request. My apologies for the tone of my earlier communication. At that time, I was unaware of your National custom. Neither the shot records, nor Miss Stahlhaver's travel folio is a 'return item' should her citizenship alter.

I must explain myself, I presume you are a discreet man...
I was quite upset at the time over the nature of the forwarding of her request, and the person I was and am angry at is quite untouchable for a number of reasons. While I am satisfied that your intentions are honourable, I can not say the same of others- Miss Stahlhaver is being used as a pawn, in my opinion, in a subtle conflict within her family, and I do not trust the motives or motivations of her Father in the least. Nor, I believe, should you. I have met with Engred, and while quite intelligent, I fear she is also quite naive in many ways, do keep an eye out for her, will you?

Your craft has landing clearance at the number four runway at Detrojtja National Aerodrome, and we have reserved concourse D, which is used for military and government craft, Gate 2, this should be, I hope, suitable for your purposes as it is fully enclosed from the weather, insulated, and heated.
do advise your aviators to be cautious on their approach, as this time of year the weather is fully 'in' and there may be fog or other problems

Again, I apologize for the tone of my earlier communque'.

The President of the Assembly, Gregir Halvorssen has requested that I forward to your government the offer of an embassy to prevent future mistakes. I have agreed to do so without reluctance. Please contact me with your reply, and any specifications you may have on this, separate, matter.

Ab-shalom and greetings,

It is the desire of the Sultanate of Vastiva to open and maintain strong diplomatic and economic relations with all nations desirous of such. As such, acting as I know our Sultan would direct, one acre of land shall be put aside in Sisu Vaari, our capital city, for your usage in building an embassy. I have also made arrangements for the emplacement of a Weyker Dome over your land grant. This regional technology has the advantage of allowing the manipulation of the climate within the dome’s strictures, from tropical to temperate. All power requirements for the Dome itself should be adequately handled during local summer months by the exterior, which is made photoelectric. We would add, you are free to induce color into the dome; the enclosed schematics of the control panel include a tutorial for such “homely” touches. We assure you, a color change will have no effect on the power capacity of the Dome.

We make no promises for the climate outside the dome and would forewarn you that our land is known for its bitterly cold winters.

It is our sincere desire that this be the beginning of a long and mutually advantageous relationship between our nations.

At this time, I find I have great trust in our native aviators. Conditions they are oft forced to land in include 200 mph winds, with no visibility and limited availability of instrumentation due to climate. Our 74SL is a box winged craft, approximately the size of a 747 in general dimensions though our range is much further. At some future point, perhaps we can put our aeronautical engineers in touch with yours, or work out a trade arrangement for the design. We have found it to be superior in stability even in the foulest weather, and the box wing has an additional advantage in keeping the plane afloat in the case of a water landing due to construction. Admittedly, I am not aware of why this is the case – but I assure you, it is.

On another note, it would be well appreciated should you explain in more detail the machinations of which this particular candidate is an… unwilling pawn? Rest assured, this shall not influence her suitability and is for my edification. Arrangements will be made to keep a subtle watch upon Engred in any case.

Namaste,
Raahmid Javani
Grand Vizier,
Humble Servant of His Magnificence, the Sultan of Vastiva

Sharon sighed and rolled her eyes, "Your loss... you don't know what you're missing... I think your flight's here."

Engred looked over, and saw that the door was now under guard by a pair of gentlemen in quite exotic uniforms. "So it would seem...don't worry about me, worry about Naalstrom's Physics exam next week. I'll write you when I'm safely in Vastiva, and have a few minutes to pass on an update."

Sharon nodded, handed the carry-on to Engred, "YOu do that-or I'll gather a force of sisters, and we'll come to pry you out of that tower, you hear?"

Engred waved, "Farewell" and headed to the gate, pausing to check the temperature outside, before pulling her parka closed, and showing the men her I.D.

-45 degrees (F).

"Engred Stahlhaver?" one of them asked.

"Yes." she said, adding "See?" she held up her passport.
The man took it, examined it, and said, "right this way, your transport awaits."

And through the door she went.

The two green-robed guards followed discreetly; even unarmed their presence was a sudden breath of cool air down the back.

The smiling stewardess who met her was their diametrical opposite. “Ab-shalom, Ms Stahlhaver. It is most certainly our pleasure to conduct you to our Sultan. Please, choose any seat you wish.” She touched her heart, lips, and forehead as she bowed her head, the smile never losing its luster.

The pilot and copilot stood just within the spacious hallway; they too greeted her the same way. “Ab-shalom, and welcome.” The pilot’s visage was not quite as warm, but perhaps that was the absence of the delicate uniform in favor of what was probably body-armor, and definitely a sidearm. “It shall be our honor to make this flight as… uneventful as possible. We estimate our flight time to be ten hours, depending on weather patterns. Please, feel free to enjoy what our bird has to offer.”

Professionally, courteously Engred is directed to the middle of the plane; many comfortable seats await. As she chooses one, one of the three stewardesses assigned this flight gives her the required speech about the plane’s safety equipment and emergency gear – including an emergency ejection pod in the rear of the plane, where she is to go in an emergency. “Short of being dropped directly into a live volcano, you will land safely, and we will find and recover you, have no fear”.

That a plane has movies, meals, a fine assortment of literature and periodicals, and an entertaining selection of wines and other beverages could be expected. That this one also holds space for a king-sized bed with silk sheets, a small hot tub, a tanning booth and massage table were only the beginning of the entertainments aboard.

In answer to her question, the stewardess – Frieda – shook her head. “No, this is only one of our fleet used for the Viziers or Ministers. The Sultan’s plane is truly luxurious. Please, if you would wait until we are at a stable cruising altitude to explore, it will be my pleasure to show you around and answer any questions you have about us.”

Comminque to Vastiva:

Greetings.

I have heard that you are seeking some sort of diplomatic exchange, and that it is preferable for women to attend. As a friend, Sharina would like to inquire into the details and procedures that may take place in this diplomatic exchange.

I personally would very much like to continue our friendship, and develop even stronger bonds between our two nations. Friends are worth more than gold and platinum.

Please inform me of the specifics, and what Sharina can do to aid this diplomatic endeavour that you are holding.

Live well and prosper,
~President Mina Veristek~



Ab-shalom and greetings;

Would that our Sultan were here to address you directly; as this is not the case, we first attach a copy of our press announcement.

In shortest form, it has become necessary to add a variety of advisors and escorts to the Sultan’s private staff, because of the expansion of our borders and reach. Traditionally, the harem is seen from outside as a mere frippery. This gives many the chance to underestimate its usefulness – as is indeed its intent.

It was with our Red Sultan, Eola Sinitii al-Din, when we learned how best to have those… who did not have our best interests at heart underestimate us. As members of the harem, those who we know now to be the generals and architects of the culture which was to come were considered to be nothing more then “arm candy”. Their access was therefore unrestricted as many paid attention to the plumage, and not the substance. As such – by surviving records – fifteen attempts at coups were defeated before they began. Changes were made where all prior Sultan’s had not considered a need – and the result speaks for itself.

As such, Vastiva has made a gesture which appears on its surface to be one of frippery, the gaining of a bordello for our Sultan – and naught more. From the reports we have from our HSI operatives in several unfriendly nations, this ruse is already bearing fruit. We are most happy to wear the guise of the fool – for is it not truly the Fool in their Motley which brings Truth?

But I digress.

It would be a pleasure to entertain a candidate from Sharina for a position within Sinjin’s harem. It is hoped this short missive gives a greater understanding of what is desired – both in appearance and substance.

If I can be of any further aid in clarifying, I have appended my direct line to this communication.

Namaste,
Raahmid Javani
Grand Vizier,
Humble Servant of His Magnificence, the Sultan of Vastiva

[i]Official reply to Vastiva
To: Grand Vizier Raahmid Javani (Email Unknown/Hidden)
From: Junior Advisor Kera Light (KLight@GowaIndustries.corp), Handmaiden to Diplomat Zukie Irawata (Email Withheld)
Subject: Re: Re: Application for his Sultan's Harem

Hmm... After a lengthy consultation with the Irawata Family lawyer, it has been decided that if Zukie is accepted for the position, then my 'availabilty status' would be decided by Zukie, as I, more or less, do belong to her.

Also, I mentioned to him the prospect of my citizenship being changed, and the lawyer said that even if I were Vestivan, the terms of my contract would still be binding. He is coming with us, so if you have any further concerns about my contract with the Irawatas, you should address them to him while signing the Corporate Release and Legal Indemity Forms.

I'll attach my Corporate Information file. Because I'm a Third Class Citizen, it won't be as flashy as Maiden Irawata's.

May you walk on warm sands.

-Kera Light

Ab-shalom and greetings;

We are rather curious why a lawyer is interested in applying for a position within the harem, but we are egalitarian enough to allow for any applicant. Indeed, my office has processed what is nearing a half-million applications, and that of a lawyer would hardly be the most… interesting.

We appreciate your allowance for our humor in that paragraph.

Your… representative shall be afforded suitable quarters, but out of propriety cannot be allowed within the Hareem proper. We have no objection to any ceremony or signing which may become necessary, with the understanding such will have to be reviewed by representatives of our Council of Kjik and Council of Kjak before such signing could take place.

We do, of course, accept the condition of a prior contract superceeding social niceties and a change of citizenship. We do note, however, that induction into the harem does include the transposition of property from the candidate to the Sultanate for, at minimum, the time spent within the harem itself. This, of course, is negotiable at this juncture and I shall be happy to discuss terms with you or Zukie’s lawyer to bring this to satisfactory terms.

Thank you again for your time; I shall endeavor to meet you directly upon your arrival, though – alas – the duties of my office do not always coincide with my wishes.

Namaste,
Raahmid Javani
Grand Vizier,
Humble Servant of His Magnificence, the Sultan of Vastiva

…I apologize for being so terribly blunt, as this letter likely makes me look both rash and calculating at the same time, but the Kriovalian tendency to brutal honesty seems to have taken root in me totally.


I hope this information is of assistance.

Lady Medea Lakat
Valak City, Krioval


Ab-shalom and greetings;

Many appreciations for your swift response; it is hoped this poor attempt at responding can be of some use.

It is unfortunately a cultural reality that the history of our Sultan remains much a State Secret during the period of their reign; this was begun with the reign of our Red Sultan, Eola Sinitii al-Din, who though originally a miner did bloom into her Sultanhood. As she found it all too often necessary to… firmly suppress improper interest and/or allusion to her heritage, she did pass an edict by which all Sultans to follow should have their histories to that point made confidential, to remove the possibility of further misunderstandings and… less then diplomatic commentary by those who did come to our nation.

You shall indeed find a tendency to brutal honesty to be of benefit within our nation, though I must warn you our language tends not to have such constructions readily available. Yet this should not be a great concern, as English is most certainly spoken by all our citizens, and is used as a common tongue among foreigners in many situations. Indeed, if you search for most any language, you shall find it spoken somewhere in Vastiva – though, truthfully, the oriental languages are only recently enjoying a resurgence.

Given your situation, we would remind you, the full space of our plane is to be made available for your use. We will gladly include a small staff to aid in your moving any items you find of value – real or sentimental – either aboard, or in temporary storage until such time as a proper transport can be arranged. Once here, you can be assured, your possessions shall be taken care of as if they were the Sultan’s own.

Have faith – your honesty and openness has indeed touched the heart of this rather withered bureaucrat, and our Sultan is far more perceptive of character and potential then this one can ever hope to be.

It is our hope you enjoy your flight; if it were proper, I would invite you to supper to discuss your history further upon your arrival. Indeed, should your candidacy be approved, perhaps it shall be.

I shall look forward to meeting you in person. For the moment, please accept this small token. The Tabu Nekku, or Lucky Cat, is our national animal. It is often traditional to give tokens bearing their image to those to whom one does wish for good things to happen to. As it is of finest gold, we would request but not require you carry it in a safe place.

Namaste,
Raahmid Javani
Grand Vizier,
Humble Servant of His Magnificence, the Sultan of Vastiva

Shizuka put the PDA back into the folds of her robe. She’d just composed and sent a message to the Grand Vizier. Lookin out the window of the plane she admired the sparkling blue pacific and wondered how long it would be before they’d be far enough south to lose sight of the sun.

The message

Greetings Grand Vizier Raahmid Javani. My name is Shizuka Kamigawa and I have been offered to serve the Sultan Sinjin Lefkowitz al-Din.

As I write this my plane is on route to Vastiva. The plane’s call sign is Gold Dragon and we will land at the airport instructed. My pilots have been told to radio in a twice the normal range to receive any instructions you might leave for us.

My Daimyo has felt that this would be an appropriate gift as not many girls in Nova Hope would understand what it means to have the honour of servitude. Geisha understand this better than anyone. A great westerner once said that behind every great man is a great woman. While it is obvious that the Sultan is a great man it is by duty to offer myself as that great woman.

With more than one woman filling the position I should quantify what it is you will gain from me. I have been formally trained in service. I have had the finest finishing schools perfect my poise, grace, drink serving, and of course traditional Japanese dance. While it is not normally polite to mention I feel that my breech can be accepted considering the position; I have had formal training in certain sexual art forms as well. Other practical considerations are my degrees in economics, anthropology, and classics.

Having me in the Sultan’s service will give him access to information about Nova Hope that your government was not previously privy to. While I am not offering anything expressly classified I do offer a knowledge of the internal bureaucracy and political attitudes that would be invaluable as the Sultan, and your government as a whole, deals with Nova Hope.

As for what I am willing to do, as I’m sure there is some question in your mind as to the validity of this offer. Nova Hope has in the past admitted to you that they spend a fair bit of money on intelligence gathering, I assure you that as a point of personal honour I am not working for the Noviet government. I do have certain loyalties to my clan but I can assure you that these will not interfere with my responsibilities to the Sultan. Once he accepts my offer of service and I am sworn to him I may not violate the trust of my danna.

Attached are my credentials, recent history, and medical records.

"So this Medea Lakat is looking to join the Sultan of Vastiva's harem?" Raijin asked, bemusedly. "This could be interesting."

"Uh, Raijin? How do you that, unless you've been reading her mail?" The Diplomatic Director looked confused.

"Koro, you're still new to this, I see. I'm not exactly in the habit of letting letters to foreign leaders from private citizens go unscanned." Seeing the look on the younger man's face, the Commander continued. "Don't look at me like that. How many times has Melena brought you that 'oh so valuable piece of information' you needed to force a treaty? She can do as she pleases, so long as our national security isn't compromised."
---------------
Ab-shalom and greetings;

Many appreciations for your swift response; it is hoped this poor attempt at responding can be of some use.

(snip)

Namaste,
Raahmid Javani
Grand Vizier,
Humble Servant of His Magnificence, the Sultan of Vastiva

Dear Grand Vizier Jahvani,

I depart at your convenience, though I request at least two hours' notice to arrive at the airport and clear security. At present, I will leave my personal effects in Krioval, pending His Magnificence's decision on my status, whereupon I will make final determinations. I have lived in accordance with Kriovalian efficiency for so many years now that it does not cause me discomfort to travel with only the necessities - especially when I am to be surrounded by such luxury. I will begin packing now.

Lady Medea Lakat
Valak City, Krioval

Official Reply to Vastiva
To: Grand Vizier Raahmid Javani (Email Unknown/Hidden)
From: Junior Advisor Kera Light (KLight@GowaIndustries.corp), Handmaiden to Diplomat Zukie Irawata (Email Withheld)
Subject: Re: Re: Application for his Sultan's Harem

Oh, heehee. You misunderstand. The lawyer isn't applying. He'll be leaving with the VIP Shuttle and returning to Krowemoh once all the proper forms are filled. He's just to supervise the signing of the Corporate Release Forms, and to verify our identities upon arrival, which I suspect will be soon now.

Besides, I highly doubt that the Sultan has that kind of interest in men. Teehee. =^_^=

At any rate, our shuttle just passed Mars, and I've been informed that our ETA will be three hours. Perhaps we will be able to meet upon our arrival, or if not, then perhaps again at a later date.

May you walk on warm sands.

-Kera Light


Ultor Corporation VIP Transport Shuttle

Strapping herself into her seat, Kera sighs as she presses the send button, folding her laptop up and sliding it into a side compartment on her seat.


As the shuttle nears Earth, it broadcasts a message to the Tudrussel orbital platform, informing them of their identity and purpose. "This is Ultor Corporation VIP Transport Shuttle, Regeal Flower. We are delivering the Krowemohian applicant for his Magnificant Sultan's personal Harem. Requesting permission to pass and land. Over."

The shuttle slowed to a crawl, waiting for the reply confirmation before proceeding to land at Vestiva...

Sadira sat quietly in the sedan as it pulled up to the massive Vastivan airliner, it's wings and size reminding her faintly of the transports the Imperial Air Force favored. As the car came to a stop she looked over to her aunt and smiled, the expression conveying both excitement and sadness. Soldiers poored from two pairs of utility vehicles in front and behind Sadira's ride and formed a protective barrier that almost looked like a Roman phalanx, the bright colors of the Alexandria Duchy Guard upon their battlearmour almost completing the picture.

As she, her aunt, and their guards began approaching the aircraft she noticed Sensei Ueshiba already waiting. It almost made her want to break through her protectors and go hug the old man, but she knew such an effort would be as silly as running headlong into a wall and the display of impatience would only exasperate her teacher. She heard the scuffle of two people running in dress shoes and looked back to notice two officers trying valiantly to catch up to them, one dragging along a couple bags worth of clothes and necessities and the other protectively holding her sword and its accessories.

"Well," said her Aunt, "I do believe it is just about time to start your new adventure. Behave, know that if something comes up I'm only a call away, and that the Sultan will be your lord and confidant with all that entails. Sensei Ueshiba is both your protector and teacher while you are away from me. Oh, and learn well," the wink that went with her Aunt's last statement gave her meaning away and Sadira blushed deeply.

Dear Grand Vizier Jahvani,

I depart at your convenience, though I request at least two hours' notice to arrive at the airport and clear security. At present, I will leave my personal effects in Krioval, pending His Magnificence's decision on my status, whereupon I will make final determinations. I have lived in accordance with Kriovalian efficiency for so many years now that it does not cause me discomfort to travel with only the necessities - especially when I am to be surrounded by such luxury. I will begin packing now.

Lady Medea Lakat
Valak City, Krioval


Ab-shalom and greetings;

VAL flight 506 has been sent to Krioval; our transport staff has made all necessary arrangements, and the 74SL has been instructed to depart whenever you are ready to leave.

I look forward to introducing you to our Sultan.

Namaste,
Raahmid Javani
Grand Vizier,
Humble Servant of His Magnificence, the Sultan of Vastiva

Ultor Corporation VIP Transport Shuttle

Strapping herself into her seat, Kera sighs as she presses the send button, folding her laptop up and sliding it into a side compartment on her seat.


As the shuttle nears Earth, it broadcasts a message to the Tudrussel orbital platform, informing them of their identity and purpose. "This is Ultor Corporation VIP Transport Shuttle, Regeal Flower. We are delivering the Krowemohian applicant for his Magnificant Sultan's personal Harem. Requesting permission to pass and land. Over."

The shuttle slowed to a crawl, waiting for the reply confirmation before proceeding to land at Vestiva...


~Regeal Flower, this is Tudrussel Orbital Platform. Transmitting passage coordinates now. Please be advised, do not deviate from approach, our regional neighbors tend to be a little trigger happy to that which they do not understand or anticipate. We will transfer navigation to Nassanuella Air Command, and trust you will not be too discomfited setting down at a military airfield. Welcome to Vastiva. Tudrussel Orbital Platform out.~

The two green-robed guards barely seemed to notice their passage through the tramway – though it would be doubtful to think they had fooled Sensei Ueshiba with their passiveness.

The red uniformed stewardess was another matter entirely. She gave a deep bow, her smile still radiant, even as she touched heart, chin, forehead. “As-salaam alaykum. You are most welcome, Sadira Saleh, Sensei Ueshiba. Your escort awaits within.”

She stands aside, allowing her passengers to pass – and the two green-robed guards to escort their escorts to where the remainder of the baggage is to be stowed.

As she enters the luxurious main cabin, a woman rises from a seat neither too close nor too far. Her stance is relaxed, hands folded before her; the rank insignia upon her uniform marks her as a Sirdar of the Vastivan Armed Services.

She gives a slight bow. “Candidate, Sensei Ueshiba. Vastiva bids you both welcome to our land. It was the desire of General Riva Sola al-Din you receive special attention on your flight, should you have questions or concerns. We find it most pleasant for one of our allies to… ah, but I forget myself. Many apologies.”

She gives another bow, this one with the three touches. “Sirdar Catrina Follette, Vastivan attaché to NATO, currently on detached duty. You could say I had been planning a vacation – but this opportunity is simply too much to miss.”

“Ah-hem?” The copilot clears his throat behind the two passengers. “Sirdar, if it would not be an imposition, our pilot informs us our escort is airborne, and we have permission to take off.”



OOC: Sirdar – Divisional Commander. Ask whatever you like in PM on NATO, read the rest of the posts here before responding.

~VAL flight 506, this is Gardemeister Tower, you are on scope. Please proceed at current altitude on course one-six-four, next contact in four minutes, please acknowledge.~

~Roger, Tower, VAL flight 506 speed constant course one-six-four, confirmed.~

~ VAL flight 702, this is Gardemeister Tower, you are on scope. Please proceed at current altitude on course one-six-eight, next contact in four minutes, please acknowledge…. Attention Hummingbirds, Nassanuella Air Command forwards following – you are requested to change course to nine-seven and return to base. ~

~ Gardemeister, please repeat. ~

~ Roger, attention Hummingbirds, Nassanuella Air Command forwards following – you are requested to change course to nine-seven and return to base. ~

~Confirmed, Gardemeister. No flyover? ~

~ Not today, Hummingbirds. ~

~ Gold Dragon, this is Gardemeister Tower, you are on scope. Please continue on course one-nine-four, altitude two thousand. Runway Yellow-C has been cleared for your use, please follow beacon. ETA six minutes, confirm. ~

~ Pepperdyne flight two-two-six, new course one-one-six altitude three thousand. Escort ETA two-eight seconds, confirm.~

~Roger Tower, course change in progr…~

~ Achtung, Achtung, Gardemeister Tower to all flights – Wave off, repeat, Wave off. Advise fuel situation, you are to be redirected to Breathed Cargo Base or Tampana Airfield. Say again, all flights wave off, redirection will be to Breathed Cargo Base or Tampana Airfield. DC approach protocol in effect ~

~ Hummingbirds, advise, return to escort, condition red, repeat, condition red.~

~ Roger, GT, gloves off advise bandit? ~

~ Negative, Hummingbird. Switch to TacCom-D, Tower Out.~

[crackle] ~ Gold Dragon, come immediately to course one-one-zero, Escort ETA nine-zero seconds. You are being redirected to Nassanuella Air Base. Please do not deviate from course given. We will be transferring control to Nassanuella Air Command. Tower Out.~

~ VAL flight 506, come immediately to course one-one-zero, Escort ETA nine-four seconds. You are being redirected to Nassanuella Air Base. Please do not deviate from course given. We will be transferring control to Nassanuella Air Command. Tower Out.~

~ VAL flight 702, come immediately to course one-one-zero. You are being redirected to Nassanuella Air Base. Please do not deviate from course given. We will be transferring control to Nassanuella Air Command. Tower Out.~




OOC: Those on those flights (Scandinavian States, Nova Hope, Krowemoh, Cadillac-Gage, Krioval, Tocrowkia) have been redirected to Nassanuella Air Base (part of a 300 mile long port and military complex on Vastiva’s north shore), and the candidates have been removed to a secure military barracks for their protection for the time being. So you can consider that you’ve got quite an opportunity to meet each other.

(excerpted from VNN Channel 722 broadcast)

… curfews have been called and will be enforced throughout the coastal area.

At this time, Candidate Semiu Adenaji is listed in critical but stable condition. Her two escorts will receive burial with full honors. Of the other victims of the blast, two remain hospitalized, nine were treated and released pending further questioning.

No additional fatalities were recorded.

Major Abdus-Sabour ibn Jokela of Gardemeister Air Customs Security issued the following statement:


We assure all citizens and foreign travelers, all elements of our security forces are on alert and we have neutralized the three individuals responsible for the attempted missile attack on the conveyance of Candidate Shizuka Kamigawa. Our perimeter has been reinforced and the breech has been closed. Additional troops from Nassanuella have been brought in to secure the larger perimeter.

At this time, we are still researching the identities of the two suicide bombers responsible for the attack on Candidate Adenaji. We expect arrests within the hour.


At this time, we advise all travelers from Vastiva to give themselves an additional hour to pass through security. Autogyros have been banned from the security perimeter for the time being.

Baseball fans will be happy…

(Partial excerpt of an anonymous message, virus-distributed on Vastiva’s Intranet System.)

“….sexist travesty will not be allowed to continue! We will not allow our nation to return to the dark ages of slavery and hypocracy! We of Janus Bin Toto do swear this will not be the last time we strike against the oppression of tradition and ignorance! Hippanoco, the death of foreign women, this is only the beginning! Rise, free yourselves of the chains of…”

Medea got into her five-year-old Varos Blaster. It was the basic model hover vehicle, but it still got the job done. And like every other Kriovalian driver, she went as fast as the craft would allow, frequently using quite unladylike language to demonstrate her frustration with those who refused to go at least 200 k/h. There was no airport in Valak, so her journey was to Telekar. While not nearly as nice an airport as the one offshore of Torokara, Telekar's airport was easier to travel from. The trip took ten minutes, at the end of which she tied her hair up with red ribbon, to make herself recognizable to her escorts.

The guard at the terminal asked politely for her identification. When it was displayed, he looked up at her, a bit surprised. "Lady Lakat? Please come this way. Your plane is already here."

She was ushered through security with only the most cursory of inspections, more to keep up appearances than actually check her for weapons. As she walked to the gate next to two security officers, Medea was struck by a sudden pang of regret - she was leaving her home, quite possibly never to return. It took all her willpower to not show her sadness, which she rationalized would fade in time. She also reminded herself that her appointment was not yet final.

Whatever feelings of anxiety she may have felt dissolved when she arrived in the aircraft itself. Such luxury was practically unknown in Krioval, save for the upper classes, who could afford to sacrifice a ton of money for the tiniest bit of extra space. Face to face with a Vastivan for the first time in her life, she decided to introduce herself and see what happened. "Hello. I am Medea Lakat. Is all of this just for me?"

EDIT: (OOC) I'll just jump ahead to my arrival.

OOC: Krioval - you might want to read your TG and the rest of the messages - particularly the end of #69 - then edit that.

She awoke from her deep slumber only to realize that something was horribly wrong. While not a functional psionic in the Kriovalian sense, she was gifted with a strong ability to puzzle out strange situations. Medea had never felt this off-balance before, and she was certain it wasn't due to simple homesickness, or even being brought to an arctic climate from a tropical one. Maybe it had something to do with being in a military building and having absolutely no memory of how she got there.

Something was horribly, horribly wrong. She just couldn't figure out what was going on, and while a rational being at her core, Medea realized that nobody was necessarily going to be forthcoming unless she got their attention. So she started screaming her head off. She could always blame it on PMS later.

EDIT: (OOC) I think that continuity is still all right. Let me know.

They had all been led - under heavy guard - to a recessed barracks. More soldiers were everywhere; inside was plain, furnished, and warm. The simple needs of life were there - and one of their escorts assured them anything they needed from their luggage or from anywhere else would arrive in short order.

That the windows had been armored did not increase anyone's feeling of absolute security. There were twelve beds here, and two doors - it was a safe bet both would be heavily guarded.

The television, for now, was off. And at least the hysterical young woman they had placed on one of the beds had stopped screaming.


OOC: Just fer you, Krioval. :D

"Well, this is interesting." she sat down on a bunk, and said, "Whoever he was, he's not here to bug you, dear." she dumped her Parka and mukluks* under her chosen bunk, and got down to her "indoor garments". The "de-bundling" process took three or four minutes to reach the point of tee-shirt and shorts, what serves as the "Minimum" of personal modesty back home.
Engred then reached into her carryon-bag, and pulled out a pair of chocolate bars. "Here, you'll feel better with something inside." she offers Medea one, and tears the other one open, "By the by-I'm Engred Stahlhaver."
she grins-like a thirteen year old at a slumber party. "S'you suppose they'll let us know what's up?"

[*Mukluks: heavy, bootlike garment usually made with a fur-lining out of sealskin, quite warm, and considered fashionable outerwear in Cadillac Gage during the late-fall through early spring-has been for the last three hundered sixty years, or thereabouts-given that the appropriate season lasts almost nine months out of twelve.]

Shizuka looked about the apprehensive women. She had to admit that she as quite worried herself, though she would not allow any outward sign of it. Indeed she steeled herself against the apprehension and took this as an opportunity.

Calling for her luggage she began to work rapidly at preparing a green tea with honey dropped flavoring. Though she may have gotten odd looks from others her logic was sound. I may calm myself in the familiarity of the routine and the tea will calm everyone else enough to talk.

Once the tea had boiled she produced a small stack of bone china tea cups.
“Ladies, if you would be so kind as to come closer I would b deeply honoured if you’d sit to enjoy my tea.”

The Regeal Flower continued on its approach vector, maintaining the course they were given. However, just prior to nearing the airport, they were advised to land upon another airbase.

The shuttle drifted through Vestiva airspace, redirecting to the requested airfield.

As the shuttle makes it way, the co-pilot begins to turns some dials. "We are recieving a tight-beam encrypted transmission form the Cori's Gift. I'm putting it through, now."

"Regeal Flower, we're picking up some weird transmissions from Vestivan Intranet. Seems like death threats are being made against forieng women. Advising activating and using the Weapon Grade Realians and proceeding with caution. Over."

The pilots nod slowly.

The trip to the Nassanuella Air Base was thankfully uneventful. The Shuttle lands on an unoccupied parcel of landing space, being a VTOL craft it doesn't require a runway. The massive Ring Drive at the end of the craft sets lightly on the ground, as two 'arms' unfold from along the frontal body, placing three digited 'hands' on the ground to brace the craft from rolling. The ship's drives power off, the heated metals pinging softly as they cool.

From the center of the craft, a large, ten-feet by ten-feet pad drops to the ground, yet makes no sound upon impact. This pad glows orange for a brief second, then there is a flash within itself, a small squad of four blonde haired, red suited humans appearing. They each bear small automatic weapons (Think MP5, but slightly larger) in the present arms position, yet appear to be able and ready to move into a firing position at any given moment.

The Realians step from the pad, one in each direction and hold their position. A few seconds later, the pad flashes again, and a blue haired catgirl wearing all black appears. Shaking her head slowly, Kera steps off the pad, and is followed by another Neko, this one a male in a blue business suit.

Finally, the last passenger, Zukie appears within the telepad. She wears a simple, crimson red sun-dress. Her blonde hair is braided neatly into a nice, single pony-tail, and her tan-furred tail sweeps back and forth slowly. She holds a shade umbrella in one hand, resting on her shoulder. "Hmm..." She said as a group of Vestivan soldiers came up to them...

Skipping ahead...

Kera and Zukie sat upon beds besides each other. "Well... This is positively dreary." Zukie spoke.

Their Realian escorts had remained with the VIP Shuttle, while the Lawyer was taken somewhere else with his forms, presumably to the GRand Vizier, or to someone else who is authorized to sign the forms.

"Ladies, if you would be so kind as to come closer I would be deeply honoured if you’d sit to enjoy my tea." Zukie tilted her head at the woman offering the tea, then shrugged.

"Kera, keep an eye over our items. I think I shall take up this woman's offer."

"Yes ma'am." Kera bowed as Zukie moved from the bed and walked over to sit with the Nova Hope woman. She extended a hand. "Hello. My name is Zukie Irawata, an Executive-First Classed Citizen of Krowemoh. I would love to share some tea with you. Perhaps, even some warmed milk, once our luggage passes through security." She smiled brightly, her catears perky and up-right.

"Well, this is interesting." she sat down on a bunk, and said, "Whoever he was, he's not here to bug you, dear." she dumped her Parka and mukluks under her chosen bunk, and got down to her "indoor garments". The "de-bundling" process took three or four minutes to reach the point of tee-shirt and shorts, what serves as the "Minimum" of personal modesty back home.
Engred then reached into her carryon-bag, and pulled out a pair of chocolate bars. "Here, you'll feel better with something inside." she offers Medea one, and tears the other one open, "By the by-I'm Engred Stahlhaver."
she grins-like a thirteen year old at a slumber party. "S'you suppose they'll let us know what's up?"

Medea's face immediately turned into a mask of total calm. In Krioval, it was routinely said that the laws of thermodynamics seemed to not apply - blood boiled or froze at room temperature. Of course it was merely a metaphor, but some caught in the transition could believe otherwise for months. "Thank you," she said, accepting the chocolate. "It's been a very long day. I'm Medea Lakat, by the way. From Krioval. I never imagined it could be so cold anywhere, even in space!" Medea nibbled at the chocolate bar before attempting Engred's question. "They'd better tell us. Otherwise it's ka-pow," she made a punching motion with her right arm, "and send me back!"

She couldn't help but laugh at the idea. "Imagine that, though. Me, in this dress, swinging and clawing at a Vastivan guard! Oh, goodness." A few seconds of giggling later, Medea had regained her composure. "So, Engred, why is it that you've come to Vastiva, beyond the obvious?"

Kera tilts her head towards the two women sharing a chocolate bar. "Nyo..." She makes a soft noise, watching them eat, suddenly realizing she hasn't had anything to eat since yesterday. Sighing dejectedly, she turns around on the bunk, and crossing her arms over her chest...

Medea's face immediately turned into a mask of total calm. In Krioval, it was routinely said that the laws of thermodynamics seemed to not apply - blood boiled or froze at room temperature. Of course it was merely a metaphor, but some caught in the transition could believe otherwise for months. "Thank you," she said, accepting the chocolate. "It's been a very long day. I'm Medea Lakat, by the way. From Krioval. I never imagined it could be so cold anywhere, even in space!" Medea nibbled at the chocolate bar before attempting Engred's question. "They'd better tell us. Otherwise it's ka-pow," she made a punching motion with her right arm, "and send me back!"

She couldn't help but laugh at the idea. "Imagine that, though. Me, in this dress, swinging and clawing at a Vastivan guard! Oh, goodness." A few seconds of giggling later, Medea had regained her composure. "So, Engred, why is it that you've come to Vastiva, beyond the obvious?"

Engred's grin widened, "That would be funny... I think you'd take him apart." she drew her knees up, and munched on the candy, mulling over the question. "Hmmm... well, let's see... back home, I'm kind of a joke-I'm not quite smart enough for Military Intel, have no interest in being a doctor, or a nurse, and I'm too tall to be a fighter-pilot. Add in that on the Corporate side, I'd be constantly dealing with daddy's reputation...and government service is out. Well, if y're gonna be a housewife, it might as well be an adventure-right? This is my big chance to get away from Dad's reputation, Mom's constant matchmaking, the parochial attitudes of my former countrymen...and have you seen pics of the current Sultan? Dude is like awesome-handsome... besides, being Dalal is probably better than spending my free nights keeping wifebeaters off their former victims at the volunteer shelter... and you-wait... what's that I smell..."
she sniffed the air. "Mmm...tea. C'mon, let's go see if we can get some-"

[ooc: If Medea has any training in psychology, she'll recognize the ferret-shock style behaviour as a defensive mechanism-apparently, Engred's used to having to put people at ease in her presence...kind of the way that really big men talk with high, meek-sounding voices.]

"Oh. I wonder if that's the case for all of us. We just don't quite fit in at home? And yeah, I saw the pictures. I figured I'd rather just get the whole marriage thing out of the way now. I'm tired of all those idiot men, and of course, all the good ones are gay."

Medea looked around. "Tea? That'd be good about now." She turned and placed half of the leftover chocolate bar near to a woman she swore had spoken moments earlier before turning back to Engred. "Where is it again?"

(OOC: True fact - male homosexuality in Krioval is between 20 and 25 percent due to genetic enhancement of various other traits. Single straight women often lament this fact.)

Striking a beehive with a stick results in angry bees, ready to sting anything before them.

Attacking a candidate had much the same effect on Vastiva. The only difference, Vastivans are trained from birth to be polite to a point often far beyond others tolerance.

That they were… politely offended, made the threat they embodied no less real.

In the few short hours that had passed, Vastiva's Intranet sang with theories, with threats, with oaths, with long threads of debate of who was behind the attack. Names such as “Dumpsterdam”, “Aust”, and “Safehaven2” were repeated many times – the call to war was sounded many, many times, subdued only by the lack of proof.

The more bizaare theorists used names of nations toppled by the actions of HSI operatives; these were usually shouted down, but some listened...

Weapons were much a fact of life in Vastiva – moreso since the introduction of polar bears, and the carnage they had wrought on the region. In the day following the attacks, several stores sold out – and police were called up in droves to contain any potential problems before they started.

In the Burj Singinkatu, hotel security had been tripled – no incidents had been reported, or even suggested, but several guests remarked the presence of “armed security” made them feel safer. No one felt the need to inform any foreign visitor who was not already aware, the Fichetti pistols the guards carried were far and away overpowered by that which you could pick up at a local liquor store. With the passage of the “last sunset”, the hotel readied itself for less foreign guests, and more local ones.

The VAS had responded, as promised and then some. Cheetah LAVs had been deployed in every city; reservists found themselves on semi-active duty, tending armored vehicles and cleaning weapons. A few hearty souls decided to create an “escort service” for travelers – and made quite a mint after the governmental licensure bureau decided not to require documentation, though there was some confusion between the armed sort and the other sort of escort service commonly available.

Weather reports had gotten worse, but not shockingly so. Already, external temperatures had dropped towards -60 and were likely to keep falling. As a result, the number of riders of public transportation (monorail, bus, even taxis) had doubled and tripled. And so had the number of transit police.

Gardemeister Aeroport now hosted the 199th Flight Wing – and two F-125 Gyrafalcons escorted in and out every plane at a minimum. Few tourists departing the nation would notice the W-3 fleet, keeping watch far below the waves for any sort of shenanigans.

Collectively, Vastiva vibrated between anger, anticipation, and anxiety. The sole bright spot in many lives – the candidate had survived. And the others were still uninjured. A first-printing Shizuka Kamigawa fact card reportedly went at auction for 2,800 PC – but most savvy traders held on to theirs, in hopes of a choice being made, and the value increasing.

Engred led the way over to where Shizuka was making tea. As they walked over, she continued to converse. "Um... 'gay' as in happy, or 'gay' like into-other guys?"
Medea indicated the second meaning.
She wrinkled her nose, and said, "That's really sad. Men aren't usually much good if they don't have a Woman to keep them from getting stupid."

Her eager friendliness covered a deep nervousness-like most of her people, she was ill-at-ease in the presence of so many strangers from other places-and many of the others were somehow... smaller- at least, in appearance.

She stopped at the edge of the small gathering, and her mask of hyper-active friendlness faltered, revealing, for a moment, the awkwardness within.
"um... hi." she said.

"Where you're from, your men need women to keep from being stupid? In Krioval, it's usually the other way. The guys who go for other guys are usually the smarter ones. Eh, at least that's not going to be an issue here."

Medea made her way over to the woman pouring tea. "Looks pretty good," she said. "What kind?"

Zukie turns up a smile at the other two women who came along. "Hello. I'm Zukie Irawata, of the Corporate Empire of Krowemoh. And you are?"

"What Kind?" The second woman asked, inquiring to the tea.

"I'm not sure. But, as soon as my luggage is through security, I plan to make some warmed milk for us all." She grinned again, her catears swivialing slightly to split her attention betwen the tea maker and the two new comers.

"Where you're from, your men need women to keep from being stupid? In Krioval, it's usually the other way. The guys who go for other guys are usually the smarter ones. Eh, at least that's not going to be an issue here."



Engred shrugged, "maybe in Krioval, that's true. back home, men are...well, they usually mean well enough-but they never seem to think everything through, it's always action-action-action, I swear, most men think doing the wrong thing immediately is better than thinking it out and doing the right thing-and they never seem to understand that there are consequences..."

they reached the source of the smell...


Medea made her way over to the woman pouring tea. "Looks pretty good," she said. "What kind?"

Engred, on the other hand, was distracted again. peering at Zukie with a look of odd concern.
"Hello. I'm Zukie Irawata, of the Corporate Empire of Krowemoh. And you are?"


"I am Engred... why did you shave your fur?" she asked, looking confused, adding, "Aren't you a bit small for one of the Hrrowl-Rhett?" the last word was at the very limit of human ability, sounding more like an imitation of a feline growling than anything human.
A clever observer would note that Engred's stance altered ever-so-slightly, feet apart, as if expecting attack, and her hands dropped down near her waist-and the look of utter alert focus-the posture of someone who is too near something dangerous.

Zukie blinks several times at the speaker. "Shave... My fur?" With one hand, she reaches up to one of her ears, rubbing it between her thumb and forefinger. "Umh... Nothing wrong with my fur. It's still there. Had me worried for a second."

"Aren't you a bit small for one of the Hrrowl-Rhett?" The woman spoke again.

"The Who-Does-What-Now? I'm sorry, but you must have me mistaken. I am a Neko. Umh... For a Neko... I'm about average... Erm... Engred? You okay? Expecting an Assassin Grade Realian to drop you or something? I wouldn't worry about it. Gowa Industries wouldn't send me here if they knew that Vector Industries was purging someone..." She waved one hand dismissively, trying to set the other woman at ease.

"I've got the distinct impression I'm missing a bit of history here," the Kriovalian woman said, with a note of exasperation. "Do the two of you know of each other already?"

Engred flushed deep red, and stammered, "I-I'm sorry...I... um... my mistake. you looked like...Igottago."
she fled back to her bunk, looking horribly embarassed.

Zukie shook her head. "Don't think so. This is my first time leaving the Nameless Star System. The only person I know here is my Handmaiden, over there." She points towards Kara, who is currently busy sneaking a bite of the chocolate bar the Kriovalian woman had left. Zukie shrugs, "And then there's my family lawyer, but he isn't here right now."

She smiles at the woman who had spoke, "I don't think I caught your name?"


Then, Engred fled. Zukie blinks, then raised one hand, as if that would magically make her stop, "Wait! You don't have to... Go..." With that last word, her hand drooped. "And, there she goes." She tilts her head up towards the Kriocalian woman. "Was it something I said?"

Engred huddled on her bunk, embarassed beyond words. Well, there you go, making an ass of yourself, again. the "Cat People" were almost extinct, highly tribal, and had even less interest in the goings-on of Human societies than the Humans of her homeland. one of them certainly would not be here, much less shaved down, and surgically altered...and I've read about Nekos, it's not like the differences weren't absolutely apparent!!!
still, reading about something, and meeting one, were totally different. HrrgrhChmee would have cuffed her for making the mistake she'd just made-and he would have been right to do so-the Neko smelled wrong enough.
I'm an idiot cub...dammit.

Shizuka took in the scene as it unfolded around her. She smiled internally as she appraised each candidate. As the women came closer and inquired Shizuka gave a bow, acknowledging each one.
“The tea is green.
“If milk would be your pleasure I do have some cream here, though I must admit it is rather rich.”

As Engred tensed up, as if for combat, Shizuka stepped between the women. Bowing deeply she offered up the tea.
“Forgive my interruption but it has been taught that all decisions should be made within the space of seven breathes.” Shizuka remained impassive. She hopped that the comment would catch a nerve and inspire distraction, but not too much. It was impetuous to do such an action but all of these women had relegated themselves to the position of harem, where they were equal to her and not worthy of the same adulation as her superiors.

Zukie blinks as she redirects her attention to the Tea Offerer. "Creamer? Er... I've heard of Creamers. Fourth Class Citizens use it cause they can't afford real milk. No offense, but I wasn't born into an Executive-First Class family to end up drinking something that Fourth Classers drink." She makes a small disgusted face. "Yeck..."

As Engred tensed up, as if for combat, Shizuka stepped between the women. Bowing deeply she offered up the tea.
“Forgive my interruption but it has been taught that all decisions should be made within the space of seven breathes.” Shizuka remained impassive. She hopped that the comment would catch a nerve and inspire distraction, but not too much. It was impetuous to do such an action but all of these women had relegated themselves to the position of harem, where they were equal to her and not worthy of the same adulation as her superiors.

Medea was nonplussed. "Seven breaths, huh? On Krioval, that might just get a person killed." Her voice was completely neutral, almost as if delivering a rather boring weather report. "Green tea? I'll take some of that, if you're offering, that is." She then turned to the more feline of the women in appearance, though cattiness in expression seemed to be contagious. "Gods, you have different classes of citizenship?"

Zukie nods slowly, speaking as if what she said was the norm to which all nations acted by. "Yes. Fourth is the lowest one can go, and Executive-First is the highest. But, one can't simply BECOME an Executive-First Classer, one has to be BORN into the Executive-First Class. It's how the rich stay rich, and the poor stay poor. After all, Only the Rich can Prevail, and the poor... Well, they do have uses as entertainment*, I guess." She flashed the other woman a wide, friendly grin.


((OOC: * Note: I will be making a Reality TV Show-esque RP thread in the feature revolving around this very phrase. "The poor make a good source of entertainment." :D))

Elsewhere in the complex, the Krowemohian lawyer is lead down another series of armored passages to a smaller office. Two guards are at the door, which makes four in the passage.

Inside, another guard, and a largish man taking up most of the far side of the table. A hookah smoulders slightly, its scent rich in sandlewood and mint.

As if unaware of the lawyer's entrance, he takes a puff, blows smoke rings to the ceiling.

"Ah, you must be the one with the contracts. Forgive me for not rising, an old injury prevents it from being as... graceful as custom would demand."

A simple glance shows the edge of his wheelchair, it's armrests and controls made slight, but glowing in the rooms softly greenish light.

"Vizier Conrad Jessup, deputy Vizier of Domestic Activities. With long service in our Council of Kjik, so you may consider me a lawyer in my own right. Please, do have a seat" - he gestures towards the only other seat available, which is well-padded and plush - "I simply do not enjoy standing on ceremony. Shall we on to business? Ah, but I again forget myself"

He looks at the guard. "Coffee, two of them. Cream and sugar - or do you take lemon? Last month, we had someone who insisted on two pats of butter and a shock of pepper. It does make it somewhat more palatable if hot, though I found the bite to be unpleasant. Would you care for something more sustaining?"

Another long draw off the hookah, Vizier Jessup smiles drowsilly and waits.

The Lawyer took the preoffered seat, declining the offer of coffee. "No, but I wouldn't mind a cup of warmed milk. That would be more then sufficent for me." He nods slowly.

He craned his neck to one side, as if cracking out a crink, then he set his briefcase next to him, folding his hands in his lap. "Good evening Vizier Jessup. I am Frank Harrigen. I represent the Irawata Family of Gowa Industries." He introduced himself, then simply waited for either the milk to come, or for the Vizier's reply.

Once Shizuka’s tea had been taken and the possible conflict averted, though as quickly as it had almost happened, she turned to Zukie to smile and nod knowingly.
“Ah my apologies miss. I had not realized that hand churned and skimmed milk cream was an offence in your culture. I shall bother you no further with it.” With that Shizuka busied her self with the tea. After a moment’s pause she came with some tea for both Engred and Kara.

Setting the tea down for Kara she addressed only Engred.
“Would you like anything added for your tea?”

Kara gives only a small 'thank you' as she accepts the tea, looking towards Zukie. "May I?" She asks.

Zukie nods slowly. "Yes. You've been a good girl. You've earned it."

"Thank you Maiden." Kera bows her head, then proceeds to slowly sip the tea, savoring it immensely.

Zukie nods to Shizuka as she herself takes a sip of the tea, breathing in deep the vapours. "Ahhh. It is good." She purred to herself, holding the cup in one hand. Perhaps too good for that little Third Classer... Ah well, I'll let her enjoy this one thing. It isn't my tea, after all.

Vizier Jessup takes in another puff and waves away the guard, who all but vanishes.

"Warmed milk. Indeed, would you not prefer cream? Ah, so sorry, a small jest of mine, you may forgive."

Another puff.

"But down to business. Please, explain if you would. Are we purchasing these girls, or their contracts, or what? I wish to be... better informed before we proceed. You may include all options open."

Once Shizuka’s tea had been taken and the possible conflict averted, though as quickly as it had almost happened, she turned to Zukie to smile and nod knowingly.
“Ah my apologies miss. I had not realized that hand churned and skimmed milk cream was an offence in your culture. I shall bother you no further with it.” With that Shizuka busied her self with the tea. After a moment’s pause she came with some tea for both Engred and Kara.

Setting the tea down for Kara she addressed only Engred.
“Would you like anything added for your tea?”

Engred struggled for a moment, and fought her embarassment and recrimination down, before answering, "Just tea, thank you." in a small, meek tone.

The Lady Lakat was oscillating between righteous indignation and cold fury. Not only had her earlier comment gone completely unaddressed, but she had been denied tea as well. "Gods, it starts already," she said, and walked to the other side of the room. "Thought of dating in Krioval's starting to look good about now," she grumbled.

After pouring for Engred Shizuka came up to Medea offering the tea. Smiling at the reaction in the woman she gave no outward appearance that she noticed the ripples of emotion.
“Should a person stop that long they forfeit their opportunity. One would hope that should a quick situation arise you’ve prepared in the way of GI. Should that be the case they could not be faulted for their decision, regardless of the outcome. Tea?”

Frank nods slowly. "These contracts are for Zukie Irawata only. The Light girl... Well, we'll discuss her rather unique situation a little bit later. If by purchase, you mean treating her as property, then no. Simply put, the Corporate Release forms grant Zukie Irawata a partial citizen release. Basically, while Zukie Irawata will no longer be an official Krowemohian Citizen, she shall remain a member of the Irawata Family, a rather influencal family in Gowa Industries, and as such she'll be granted special, unalienable priviledges, such as her continued worship of the Goddess Cori, maintaining the wholeness of the barcode on the back of her neck, and others, as defined in the forms. By signing these the Corporate Release Forms, you acknowledge that as a member of an influencal family, Zukie Irawata may be entitled to the special privileges I mentioned."

Frank clearts his throat, pausing for a moment. "The Legal Indemnity form is just that. By accepting Zukie Irawata from Gowa Industries, she is to be treated as a Corporate Product, and as such, your government may not file any sort of lawsuit against Gowa Industries for any action she may make."

With this, he opens the briefcase and presents a rather small stack of forms, some paged denoted with sticky 'sign here' tags pointing to lines where the signer must put his signature. The forms all are pretty standard. Jessup need only put his name here and there to have Zukie officially become a Vestivan Citizen, and grant Gowa Industries the ability to write off her accumulated earnings as a loss against next fisco year's taxes.

Besides what Frank said, the only other specific priviledge beyond a few basic 'human rights' is the right to keep any non-weapon Corporate property given to her as a gift by her family. It also states that during her term as Courtisian, options for business relations with Gowa Industries alone are open, but once her term has expired, then business oppertunities with the other two Corporations become open. Once signed, the forms become legally binding...


((OOC: Umh... Crap. I'd never be a good lawyer... >_> If that sucked too much, just say so and I'll see if I can't try to fix it, okay? But right now, I gotta go. Later, Vestiva. Tomorrow we can do the things concerning Kera Light, kay?))

After pouring for Engred Shizuka came up to Medea offering the tea. Smiling at the reaction in the woman she gave no outward appearance that she noticed the ripples of emotion.
“Should a person stop that long they forfeit their opportunity. One would hope that should a quick situation arise you’ve prepared in the way of GI. Should that be the case they could not be faulted for their decision, regardless of the outcome. Tea?”

The Kriovalian stretched her arms above her head, letting the stress drain away. She then regarded Shizuka. "Perhaps." She grinned. "We're actually taught as children how to kill using only our bare hands. So far so good, unless one is Lord Raijin...you have a cup?"

“But of course.” Shizuka produced the cup and began to pour.
“You seem proud of your combat ability, may I ask why?”

Frank nods slowly. "These contracts are for Zukie Irawata only. The Light girl... Well, we'll discuss her rather unique situation a little bit later. If by purchase, you mean treating her as property, then no. Simply put, the Corporate Release forms grant Zukie Irawata a partial citizen release. Basically, while Zukie Irawata will no longer be an official Krowemohian Citizen, she shall remain a member of the Irawata Family, a rather influencal family in Gowa Industries, and as such she'll be granted special, unalienable priviledges, such as her continued worship of the Goddess Cori, maintaining the wholeness of the barcode on the back of her neck, and others, as defined in the forms. By signing these the Corporate Release Forms, you acknowledge that as a member of an influencal family, Zukie Irawata may be entitled to the special privileges I mentioned."

Frank clearts his throat, pausing for a moment. "The Legal Indemnity form is just that. By accepting Zukie Irawata from Gowa Industries, she is to be treated as a Corporate Product, and as such, your government may not file any sort of lawsuit against Gowa Industries for any action she may make."

With this, he opens the briefcase and presents a rather small stack of forms, some paged denoted with sticky 'sign here' tags pointing to lines where the signer must put his signature. The forms all are pretty standard. Jessup need only put his name here and there to have Zukie officially become a Vestivan Citizen, and grant Gowa Industries the ability to write off her accumulated earnings as a loss against next fisco year's taxes.

Besides what Frank said, the only other specific priviledge beyond a few basic 'human rights' is the right to keep any non-weapon Corporate property given to her as a gift by her family. It also states that during her term as Courtisian, options for business relations with Gowa Industries alone are open, but once her term has expired, then business oppertunities with the other two Corporations become open. Once signed, the forms become legally binding...


((OOC: Umh... Crap. I'd never be a good lawyer... >_> If that sucked too much, just say so and I'll see if I can't try to fix it, okay? But right now, I gotta go. Later, Vestiva. Tomorrow we can do the things concerning Kera Light, kay?))

As the steamed milk and coffee arrive, Vizier Jessup looks over the stack of documents with a near casual glance, nodding at the phrasing and wording.

In a few moments, the stack is signed. He passes back only a single sheet, one of citizenship transfer, acceptable and bound by any previous agreements between the two nations.

"Now, about the other one?" He takes a sip of coffee, shrugs. "A rather indifferent flavor, really." Some cream and sugar are added, but he does not drink.

(OOC: Gah class soon, need to write essay, ciao)

“But of course.” Shizuka produced the cup and began to pour.
“You seem proud of your combat ability, may I ask why?”

Medea looked the other woman over. "Why not?" It was an honest question. Nobody in Krioval would have wondered why combat was valued. Combat was the means through which power was generated, and moved from the weak to the strong. And strength was the height of virtue in Krioval.

Shizuka set the tea set down. Turning she sat on her bed with her legs under her as if in a meditative posture she took a moment to contemplate her answer.
“Pride serves no purpose, so it is a wasted action in and of itself. Your ability to kill me where I stand is no greater because you tell me it is so.”

sipping her tea quietly, Engred tried to regain the control her first teacher had worked so hard to drive into her.
Sadly, this was proving more than difficult, she could smell tension in here-tempers near flaring.
the room stank of misunderstood gestures, and near-faux-pas like her own colossal mistake.
"Compounding error with inaction is stupid, kits freeze to death when the parent mourns the cold instead of building fires." Hrowllchmee's guttural voice told her in the back of her mind. That summer had been the best she'd ever spent...
Engred stood up, and walked over to the Neko. "I apologize for my outburst." she said, "You were not at fault, I was... surprised."

((OOC: Blarg... I'm such a sucker. Okay, last post for real this time, then off to bed... I swear. >_> ))

Frank nods. "Kera Light is a sensitive subject. What I tell you is strictly for your ears only." He waits for the Vizier to dismiss the guards. "What I tell you cannot be used in any way, or form against the Corporate Empire. Such actions would have dire repercussions, trust me..." He lets his words sink in, before continuing as if nothing had happened, "She is, by all means, Corporate Property, the result of being a collateral token against a large loan from my clinet. Being as the loanee failed to meet the minimum payments three times in a row, she was claimed, and remains the private property of the Irawata Family. At age 11, she was given as a gift to Zukie Irawata, and has remained with her since." He takes a sip of his milk, then continues. "I will be blunt, if Zukie is accepted for this position, and the Sultan wishes to have 'relations' with Kera, he will have to clear it through Zukie first, as she is the sole authorized member of Gowa Industries to clear such uses. Kera IS Corporate Property first. Any unathorized uses of Corporate Property will have repercussions."

He shifts his weight, "However, should the terms of her contract be fulfilled to satisifaction, then she shall be immedaitely extracted from Vestiva and returned to Krowemoh, where she'll attend College and hopefully, become a productive member of the Krowemohian workforce. However, having seen Mr. Light's paymen-" He halts suddenly, realized he had spoken too much. He clears his throat, and continues, "... Ahem, I mean the terms of her contract, I can safely say that no such occurance will be happening. At all." He nods again. "And, lastly, should, Goddess Cori forbid, Zukie Irawata die, then Kera Light shall be extracted and returned to the Irawata Family. Depending on the cause of Zukie's death, business relations with Gowa Industries may close or remain open."

sipping her tea quietly, Engred tried to regain the control her first teacher had worked so hard to drive into her.
Sadly, this was proving more than difficult, she could smell tension in here-tempers near flaring.
the room stank of misunderstood gestures, and near-faux-pas like her own colossal mistake.
"Compounding error with inaction is stupid, kits freeze to death when the parent mourns the cold instead of building fires." Hrowllchmee's guttural voice told her in the back of her mind. That summer had been the best she'd ever spent...
Engred stood up, and walked over to the Neko. "I apologize for my outburst." she said, "You were not at fault, I was... surprised."

Zukie blinks, tilting her head. "Nya? I do not understand, but I accept your apology. But really, there is no need for such... Rigid formalities. Come, sit. I do not bite." She smiled warmly, patting an empty spot next to her on her bunk. "I took no offense to your outburst. You will find that us Krowemohians are a very forgiving and understanding people."


Except when it comes to debts. Kera mused darkly...

((OOC: I can do one more post... Maybe, but then after that. I gotta go... Seriously. >_> ))

((OOC: Blarg... I'm such a sucker. Okay, last post for real this time, then off to bed... I swear. >_> ))

Frank nods. "Kera Light is a sensitive subject. What I tell you is strictly for your ears only." He waits for the Vizier to dismiss the guards. "What I tell you cannot be used in any way, or form against the Corporate Empire. Such actions would have dire repercussions, trust me..." He lets his words sink in, before continuing as if nothing had happened, "She is, by all means, Corporate Property, the result of being a collateral token against a large loan from my clinet. Being as the loanee failed to meet the minimum payments three times in a row, she was claimed, and remains the private property of the Irawata Family. At age 11, she was given as a gift to Zukie Irawata, and has remained with her since." He takes a sip of his milk, then continues. "I will be blunt, if Zukie is accepted for this position, and the Sultan wishes to have 'relations' with Kera, he will have to clear it through Zukie first, as she is the sole authorized member of Gowa Industries to clear such uses. Kera IS Corporate Property first. Any unathorized uses of Corporate Property will have repercussions."

He shifts his weight, "However, should the terms of her contract be fulfilled to satisifaction, then she shall be immedaitely extracted from Vestiva and returned to Krowemoh, where she'll attend College and hopefully, become a productive member of the Krowemohian workforce. However, having seen Mr. Light's paymen-" He halts suddenly, realized he had spoken too much. He clears his throat, and continues, "... Ahem, I mean the terms of her contract, I can safely say that no such occurance will be happening. At all." He nods again. "And, lastly, should, Goddess Cori forbid, Zukie Irawata die, then Kera Light shall be extracted and returned to the Irawata Family. Depending on the cause of Zukie's death, business relations with Gowa Industries may close or remain open."

The Vizier sipped from his coffee again, making a grimace. "I shall have to have the chef flogged later. How much debt? Seeing as it may be in our interests to pay the loan and have its contract moved to our nations... care, it would seem knowing such things would be of some value."

He takes another sip, adds more sugar, sips again. "Of course, this does not have to be... revealed to either female at this time, being entirely a business dealing between you and I. And who we represent."

Frank's smile did not falter. "I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to discuss any other Corporate Business pertaining to the Irawata Family besides that which directly concerns the applicant Zukie Irawata. The ammount of the Light Family debt is neither here nor there, and I highly doubt the Irawata Family would accept payment of the debt from any source other then the loanee. Such actions could breed bad business."

He leans to one side, "If there is nothing else to discuss, then I shall sign these forms, and our business will be concluded."


((OOC: Urgh... Okay. For real, going going this time! Good night everybody! See you all tomorrow!

EDIT: I removed a section of text, as the actions I decided were out of character for Frank Horrigan.))

The Vizier took a last draw and puff.

"There is only the one form from us. Once citizenship is conferred, all our laws fall automatically. It does make things rather simple on our part. Just sign there... and there... and initial there. And a thumbprint, if you please. The paper will keep a bit of skin and oil, just so you are aware. We do want to be sure your signature and affixion of her to this is legitimate, as you do have power of attorney over her.... yes, it affirms that at the bottom. We do want to make absolutely sure you know what you are getting her into."

He pushes aside the coffee. "Definitely not what it seemed to be. At first, a repast - but indeed, not at all what it seemed to be. Ah well, there are always other things to enjoy." Another smile. "Is there more business? If not, Olaf will show you out. I trust we both will keep our copies safe."

While the other girls chatted Sadira kneeled, in a concession to the dress she wore, as if meditating, her eyes closed and her face expressionless to complete the illusion. In truth she was contemplating what the situation could possibly be. For an aircraft to be waved off during landing meant something had gone wrong, but for all of their aircraft to have been waved off meant that something terrible had happened at the airport. The fact that they were now in a bunker or fortification of some sort meant that whatever the threat was, it had been directed at them.

Sensei Ueshiba had also some to much the same conclusion long ago. It explained why, at the moment, he looked like a guard dog, constantly looking for threats. It would no doubt be a deterrent to anybody who was not heavily armed and armoured, but a lone man with a sword was not adequate protection for somebody of Sadira's importance, especially after a threat had tried to do harm to Lady Sadira. Little did he know, that was already being taken care of.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

TO: Grand Vizier Raahmid Javani
FR: Duchess Asiya Saleh
SUB: Concerns
ATT: intercept.flac, transcript.txt

Vizier,

You can imagine my surprise when I was given intercepts from one of the ESS' recon satellites, intercepts that originated from your country. After all, even in my exhalted position as Director of the Foreign Service, I am a mere diplomat. However, after hearing the intercept and then reading the transcript I couldn't help but be a tad worried, especially after that same satellite reported a major explosion and fire at one of your airports. Obviously I did the only thing a sensible guardian would do, I attempted to contact both my grand niece's and Sensei Ueshiba's mobile units, and failed to contact either.

Now, at this point I am rather upset and I sincerely hope you don't take offense to what I'm about to say. That said, just what the hell is going on?! I demand to know the status of my niece and Sensei Ueshiba. Furthermore, in the future when something important happens, I would very greatly appreciate it if you would be so kind as to notify myself or the Empress when it happens.

I await your explaination
//End

[Sorry if I took some liberties with the intercept, however I have an idea that should further the development of the characters. Sadira has, so far, been somewhat of a mystery and doing what I intend to do would help keep the separation somewhat.]

TO: Grand Vizier Raahmid Javani
FR: Duchess Asiya Saleh
SUB: Concerns
ATT: intercept.flac, transcript.txt

Vizier,

You can imagine my surprise when I was given intercepts from one of the ESS' recon satellites, intercepts that originated from your country. After all, even in my exhalted position as Director of the Foreign Service, I am a mere diplomat. However, after hearing the intercept and then reading the transcript I couldn't help but be a tad worried, especially after that same satellite reported a major explosion and fire at one of your airports. Obviously I did the only thing a sensible guardian would do, I attempted to contact both my grand niece's and Sensei Ueshiba's mobile units, and failed to contact either.

Now, at this point I am rather upset and I sincerely hope you don't take offense to what I'm about to say. That said, just what the hell is going on?! I demand to know the status of my niece and Sensei Ueshiba. Furthermore, in the future when something important happens, I would very greatly appreciate it if you would be so kind as to notify myself or the Empress when it happens.

I await your explaination



[NATO Encrypted, sent several hours later]

Ab-shalom and greetings;

Many pardons for the mobile units not working - to the best of my knowledge, only hardlines work through armor plating of that thickness.

But I get ahead of myself.

As our news has already begun reporting, two suicide bombers entered our main international airport and attempted to jump - quite literally - one of the candidates. One was killed on site by our security before detonation, the other was prevented from getting close by her personal guard. However, the detonation was not preventable. This caused minor damage to the entryway, minor injuries to several, and killed both guards. The candidate in question was not greiviously injured, as has been reported, but was swiftly removed from the area and is being taken care of in a secure facility.

External security at Gardemeister detected a tracking radar and gate breech in an unauthorized location and deployed a team to investigate. A short firefight was engaged in, in which another three fanatics were killed, this with no other losses. In their possession was a SMX man portable SAM, a rather old design but still effective. The only plane near was not that of your neice, though it would not have mattered as the missile was not fired, and in any case our AMS system there is more then adequate.

It was thought to be prudent to remove all candidates in transit to a secure location - they are currently within the Nassanuella military complex, in a well armored site, surrounded by half a dozen or so divisions of our military. The situation is well in hand, we simply have thought of their safety foremost. They are not injured, and are in the best of hands.

Do understand, this is only the second time any sort of terrorist activity has occurred in quite some time. It is rather shocking it got this far, though as usual, there was no significant action on their part. So, in point of fact, there is nothing significant to tell you or the Empress - they are quite well, our situation is stable, we are seeing to their safety. Regular notifications of this condition have not been sent anywhere as of yet at the request of our HSI, but in this case, I do not see the difficulty nor danger in sending something to allay your fears.

I shall talk with the base commander about activating a land line in their location, though this likely will take longer then it will take for their transportation to move them to the Palace.

Would your concerns be allayed by opening your embassy here, and installing someone who could monitor your neice's location more often? We could most certainly install a monitor station, connected to our security grid. That would allow you to watch her in most every non-secure location she went to - though, as sunset has already occurred, it would be mostly useless for the next four months in any external location.

Your pardon for the tardiness of reply, matters at hand took a higher priority for the moment, but should anything occur again, most assuredly I shall insist on keeping you abreast of the situation as it unfolds to my office.

Namaste,
Raahmid Javani
Grand Vizier,
Humble Servant of His Magnificence, the Sultan of Vastiva


***

Directly after pressing "send", Raahmid wondered on his tone, decided either his concern or his tone - possibly both - was the result of sheer exhaustion. Fortunately, the couch in his office had been designed for such a need... and he was soon asleep.

Shizuka set the tea set down. Turning she sat on her bed with her legs under her as if in a meditative posture she took a moment to contemplate her answer.
“Pride serves no purpose, so it is a wasted action in and of itself. Your ability to kill me where I stand is no greater because you tell me it is so.”

"Directness is a blessing," Medea said. "Krioval is known for being a completely open society, and conspiracy is practically unknown there. Besides, a verbal display of strength can save actually having to show it later."

[NATO Encrypted, sent several hours later]

Ab-shalom and greetings;

Many pardons for the mobile units not working - to the best of my knowledge, only hardlines work through armor plating of that thickness.

But I get ahead of myself.

As our news has already begun reporting, two suicide bombers entered our main international airport and attempted to jump - quite literally - one of the candidates. One was killed on site by our security before detonation, the other was prevented from getting close by her personal guard. However, the detonation was not preventable. This caused minor damage to the entryway, minor injuries to several, and killed both guards. The candidate in question was not greiviously injured, as has been reported, but was swiftly removed from the area and is being taken care of in a secure facility.

External security at Gardemeister detected a tracking radar and gate breech in an unauthorized location and deployed a team to investigate. A short firefight was engaged in, in which another three fanatics were killed, this with no other losses. In their possession was a SMX man portable SAM, a rather old design but still effective. The only plane near was not that of your neice, though it would not have mattered as the missile was not fired, and in any case our AMS system there is more then adequate.

It was thought to be prudent to remove all candidates in transit to a secure location - they are currently within the Nassanuella military complex, in a well armored site, surrounded by half a dozen or so divisions of our military. The situation is well in hand, we simply have thought of their safety foremost. They are not injured, and are in the best of hands.

Do understand, this is only the second time any sort of terrorist activity has occurred in quite some time. It is rather shocking it got this far, though as usual, there was no significant action on their part. So, in point of fact, there is nothing significant to tell you or the Empress - they are quite well, our situation is stable, we are seeing to their safety. Regular notifications of this condition have not been sent anywhere as of yet at the request of our HSI, but in this case, I do not see the difficulty nor danger in sending something to allay your fears.

I shall talk with the base commander about activating a land line in their location, though this likely will take longer then it will take for their transportation to move them to the Palace.

Would your concerns be allayed by opening your embassy here, and installing someone who could monitor your neice's location more often? We could most certainly install a monitor station, connected to our security grid. That would allow you to watch her in most every non-secure location she went to - though, as sunset has already occurred, it would be mostly useless for the next four months in any external location.

Your pardon for the tardiness of reply, matters at hand took a higher priority for the moment, but should anything occur again, most assuredly I shall insist on keeping you abreast of the situation as it unfolds to my office.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
#include<msgset.h>

void crypset(NATO)
{
//
TO: Grand Vizier Raahmid Javani
FR: Duchess Asiya Saleh
SUB: RE: Concerns

Thank you for informing me of my niece's whereabouts and overall condition. While I'm comforted that you are taking her safety so seriously, I'm not so certain the measures taken are entirely accurate. Once upon a time and many moons ago, I was a Colonel in the Imperial Marines and I commanded Kraft Opklaring regiment. Our primary missions were to conduct small-scale amphibious assaults, scout ahead of an invasion, and infiltrate behind enemy lines to take out targets of strategic importance.

To be perfectly frank it sounds as if the "candidates", as you call my grand niece and her fellows, are these terrorists' strategic targets and it sounds to me as if they're determined, if not [i]yet competent. While I do not doubt the general skill of the men in your armed forces, divisions are unlike to detect a small, somewhat competent, and determined commando force. If they were to get inside the base or wherever the candidates are housed, I fear they couldn't be stopped before they managed to get to the candidates.

Therefor, until such time as Sadira is officially accepted into the household of the Sultan, I must insist that a 5-man team from the Särskilda Skyddsgrupp be assigned to her. For the sake of the comfort and privacy of the girls, the team will consist entirely of woman. Obviously the team's primary mission will be to protect Sadira, but it will also have the secondary mission of protecting the other girls, unless and/or until that mission conflicts with the primary mission. The team can be on its way if/when you give a go and will arrive within 3 hours, but I will need an airport and AFB that can accomodate sub-orbital aircraft.
}

void endcryp(crypset)
{
call crypset(NATO);
}

Shizuka appraised the woman again. She had to be careful not to forget herself as she found this boastful ideology to be intriguing, but it was a distraction she had to be careful not to stray to far into.
“Directness is a blessing as the teachings of SHIN tell us. We are in agreement.” Shizuka smiled at the consensus before continuing.
“As for the boast saving action two questions arise.
“You base your strategy not on your strength but the enemy’s perceived weakness; as you assume that they do not have the mettle to test your boast. What is it you use to accurately predict your enemies’ weakness at all times?
“But more to the point a single boast not carried through invites attempts on your position; thus pride has led you to your sword. Would this not make pride, for the purposes of peace, a deception in itself? If you were truly open and you are open now: is avoiding physical shows of strength really of importance?”

[Just a message to let Vastiva know I've finished my post. Vast, can you get on NATO's parachat so we can talk about what I have in mind?]

Engred accepted the Neko's tone, and statement for what it was-she had to, there was simply no way to Know.

"Thank you, I..."
Something is wrong with the door.
she looked up, briefly wondering if there was a draft or something.
she set the cup down, and stood up.

"Okay, they're opening the door, Jamil, are you ready?" she heard men's voices.

The door opened, and a young lady with two Vastivan guards came through.
The girl was beautiful, smiling, and laughing.
Two men (where did they come from?) rushed forward, and Engred could see.

She jumped at the men, as gunfire thundered. (NO) Her hands passed through one of the men, as his comrade fell.
she tried again, grasping. She caught his coat, revealing white sticks of explosive wired on his vest.
she pulled back, with all her focus and strength, halting his triumphant leap and pulling him away from the doorway.

White Flash

Engred woke up on the floor, near the bunker door. No dead guard, no dead terrorist, no girl...and some of the other candidates looking at her.

Her right hand hurt. she looked at it, as she sat up. "Where did they go?" her hand was burnt-blisters rising across her fingers.
"What just happened?" she looked around the room, stunned-there were no dead bodies, no bullet-holes, the door was closed and unmarked by any kind of explosion.
The only evidence of anything was her right hand-which was covered in second-degree burns.

"ow." she stared at it, and then, at the room.

[what everyone else saw- Engred got up, walked over to a space about five feet from the door, screamed, and fell down.]

Shizuka was quick to move from her curled position into one of uprightness. Checking the girl all over she spoke slowly as she examined her hand.
“Are you okay Miss? What happened to your hand?” Turning to the others in the group she spoke again,
“Does anyone have clean cloths, bandages, and or ointment?”

Engred was shaking, and her skin was slick with sweat. "I... you didn't see them?" she was clearly somewhat disoriented. "Two men, and the bomb...they were going to blow her up-" the room stubbornly refused to show any sign of what she'd just experienced. "It was very hot, and bright, white light from greasy white sticks sewn to a vest...I tried to pull him back before he reached her-You didn't see that?"

Shizuka shook her head.

"it was right Here. Just now..."

Engred looked around the room, "Did any of you see it?"

Nonplussed and confused looks.

"I'm not mad-It was real." she muttered.

Shizuka appraised the woman again. She had to be careful not to forget herself as she found this boastful ideology to be intriguing, but it was a distraction she had to be careful not to stray to far into.
“Directness is a blessing as the teachings of SHIN tell us. We are in agreement.” Shizuka smiled at the consensus before continuing.
“As for the boast saving action two questions arise.
“You base your strategy not on your strength but the enemy’s perceived weakness; as you assume that they do not have the mettle to test your boast. What is it you use to accurately predict your enemies’ weakness at all times?
“But more to the point a single boast not carried through invites attempts on your position; thus pride has led you to your sword. Would this not make pride, for the purposes of peace, a deception in itself? If you were truly open and you are open now: is avoiding physical shows of strength really of importance?”

"First, it's not a boast. It's a technical fact. I simply said that I was capable of the act. I could explain the historical significance, or how I was trained and under what conditions, but that would take time I am unwilling to spend. So I indicated the fact without all the backup, trusting that the idea would be transmitted." Medea sipped at the tea. "It appears that I have succeeded, mostly. Efficiency is also emphasized in Krioval."

The Kriovalian woman had paused, as if to consider her next response, but decided that enough had been said. Then Engred had had her...vision?

Shizuka was quick to move from her curled position into one of uprightness. Checking the girl all over she spoke slowly as she examined her hand.
“Are you okay Miss? What happened to your hand?” Turning to the others in the group she spoke again,
“Does anyone have clean cloths, bandages, and or ointment?”

Medea wheeled and grabbed her emergency kit. "In here," she said simply, handing the box to Shizuka. "I think there's enough cloth between all of us to bind the dressing in place."

Administering first aid to the hand Shizuka looked over her shoulder at Medea. Making a quick assumption about the type of person who carries a med kit she spoke softly, as not to order. Given the conversation the two were having diplomatic tones seemed appropriate.
“Would you check her eyes and what have you for signs of concussion please? She seems confused; she may have struck her head.”

Administering first aid to the hand Shizuka looked over her shoulder at Medea. Making a quick assumption about the type of person who carries a med kit she spoke softly, as not to order. Given the conversation the two were having diplomatic tones seemed appropriate.
“Would you check her eyes and what have you for signs of concussion please? She seems confused; she may have struck her head.”

Medea did so, quickly and efficiently. "She should be fine, at least in terms of head injury. You have much experience with this sort of thing?"

The burns were serious-and not the sort you get from scalding water or electricity. it was as if Engred had stuck her hand into a blast-furnace-or too near a detonating explosive.
seek calm...seek calm. still waters under the sun. Engred closed her eyes, and forced her breathing to slow down. "ow... no, I don't have frequent experiences witnessing a suicide bombing." she opened her eyes, "It's not the sort of thing we see a lot of, back home-except on the international news telly. The first thing I saw, was there was something...wrong with the door. Then, it opened, and two guards-like the guards that were on my flight, but different, as well-they were dressed in lighter clothing...they stepped in, with a girl, like one of you...and two men came out of the shadows and tried to attack all three-only I think the girl was the target. They hurt one guard, and one of the men went down- I was trying to pull the other one back, to stop him-but I couldn't."
Her eyes met Medea's, "My hand reached through-I tried again, and I had him-only I was...late. There was a white flash, and considerable heat... then, all five were gone, the door was fine, and I was on the floor-and my hand is burnt. I think I would like some water now."

Shizuka nodded as she put the finishing touches on the gauss wrap.
“I am trained in first aid yes. It comes in handy back on the island where I live.” Turning to Medea she spoke again,
“Please help me get her to the bed without jostling her. Does anyone know if she has any medical conditions?”

Once Engred began to make conversational sense again Shizuka stopped talking over her and included her in her conversations.

Medea looked back at Engred. "Is this sort of thing normal for your people? I mean, if anything, it's cold here."

Medea looked back at Engred. "Is this sort of thing normal for your people? I mean, if anything, it's cold here."

Engred shook her head, "what sort of 'thing'? I don't think it's 'normal' anywhere to see things that nobody else is seeing, or pick up a severe burn out of nothing... but there are stories-sometimes in a village or..." she trailed off, thinking for a moment. "...there are stories. people who 'see' events far away, or just make good guesses out of the blue. It's all mulch, of course-lucky guesses and bad dreams." her tone was doubtful, like she was trying to convince herself it was not real, that she had not experienced anything remarkable.

"Huh." Medea wasn't about to discuss the pervasiveness of Kriovalian psionics here, as she was barely a latent metabolic, and while she could occasionally "sense" strange occurrences, it was usually just before or as they happened. It wasn't a secret, just something she wished to avoid. "How should I know about these sorts of things?"

The burns were serious-and not the sort you get from scalding water or electricity. it was as if Engred had stuck her hand into a blast-furnace-or too near a detonating explosive.
seek calm...seek calm. still waters under the sun. Engred closed her eyes, and forced her breathing to slow down. "ow... no, I don't have frequent experiences witnessing a suicide bombing." she opened her eyes, "It's not the sort of thing we see a lot of, back home-except on the international news telly. The first thing I saw, was there was something...wrong with the door. Then, it opened, and two guards-like the guards that were on my flight, but different, as well-they were dressed in lighter clothing...they stepped in, with a girl, like one of you...and two men came out of the shadows and tried to attack all three-only I think the girl was the target. They hurt one guard, and one of the men went down- I was trying to pull the other one back, to stop him-but I couldn't."
Her eyes met Medea's, "My hand reached through-I tried again, and I had him-only I was...late. There was a white flash, and considerable heat... then, all five were gone, the door was fine, and I was on the floor-and my hand is burnt. I think I would like some water now."

OOC: Events as they happened: Both bombers entered the airport main area and set off a herd of quiet alarms. Two snipers sighted and fired on the first, killing him immediately. The second slipped past that trap and ran at the candidate. One of her guards tackled the man, the second moved in front of her - and the bomb went off. The first guard became a fuzzy red mist; pieces of schrapnel caused the other injuries. The second guard was killed by pieces of the first guard entering his head at supersonic velocities, but his body armor took the bulk of the blast. This left a significant hole in the floor, two dead guards, one candidate with injury to her legs, and two very dead terrorists. She was removed quickly by airport security.

Engred found her tea, and sipped it left-handed quietly. okay, if it was a hallucination, where did it come from? the tea smelled fine, and nobody else had 'pitched a fit' in the room. Psychosomatic? but what would cause that? she looked at the cloth wrapping her hand pensively.
"Did they tell anyone why we were diverted here?" she suddenly asked, loudly enough for the others to hear the question over their conversations.
The thought was a longshot-but Aunt Therese had introduced her to HrowllChmee that summer at the Homestead...

No way in hell I'm reading all through this thread. What happened? Who got wounded?

No way in hell I'm reading all through this thread. What happened? Who got wounded?

[ooc] Well, Scandinavian States' young lady was attacked at the Vastiva airport by terrorists before most of the other candidates landed. The rest of the candidates were concentrated into a "safe" bunker by Vastivan authorities while the investigation went on. Several hours after that, Engred (my character), who didn't know why she was diverted, had what amounts to a vision of the past-one vivid enough to leave her right hand severely burnt (explosives generate a lot of waste heat energy), and her mind reeling.

So... two people are wounded right now by one act-the first directly, as it happened, and the second for no reason she can possibly fathom, several hundered miles from the site, and several hours later... the vision wasn't "100%", but Clairvoyant experiences rarely are.

Summary of Action so far below:


Grand Vizier has a wish to repopulate the Sultan's harem. Originally limited to just someone from a nation with treaty obligations, this has become an international invitational. Many were invited to come and be "candidates" for the harem from many nations - and many more applied.

As the candidates enter the country, two terrorist teams attempted to "take out" two of them. One attack - a suicide bombing - went off, but failed. The second team planned on launching a SAM at an incoming plane, but they too failed.

The candidates who were coming into the country at that time are now confined to a barracks at the Nassanuella Military base, as it was the closest secure landing site.


(Highlight it to read it)

[ooc] Well, Scandinavian States' young lady was attacked at the Vastiva airport by terrorists before most of the other candidates landed. The rest of the candidates were concentrated into a "safe" bunker by Vastivan authorities while the investigation went on. Several hours after that, Engred (my character), who didn't know why she was diverted, had what amounts to a vision of the past-one vivid enough to leave her right hand severely burnt (explosives generate a lot of waste heat energy), and her mind reeling.

So... two people are wounded right now by one act-the first directly, as it happened, and the second for no reason she can possibly fathom, several hundered miles from the site, and several hours later... the vision wasn't "100%", but Clairvoyant experiences rarely are.

OOC: No, the candidate from South Africa was the attempted target of the bombing. Scandavian States candidate is in the room with you - and her sensei.

[No, it wasn't my candidate. If you'd've been paying attention, you'd know that she's right there in the room with the rest of the girls, but sitting apart from them with her katana-armed Sensei/watchdog. Go back two of my posts and read it in its entirety.

Engred found her tea, and sipped it left-handed quietly. okay, if it was a hallucination, where did it come from? the tea smelled fine, and nobody else had 'pitched a fit' in the room. Psychosomatic? but what would cause that? she looked at the cloth wrapping her hand pensively.
"Did they tell anyone why we were diverted here?" she suddenly asked, loudly enough for the others to hear the question over their conversations.
The thought was a longshot-but Aunt Therese had introduced her to HrowllChmee that summer at the Homestead...

Medea walked up to Engred, sat down, and as quietly as possible, asked "Which is is, you think? Past, present, or future?"

Therefor, until such time as Sadira is officially accepted into the household of the Sultan, I must insist that a 5-man team from the Särskilda Skyddsgrupp be assigned to her. For the sake of the comfort and privacy of the girls, the team will consist entirely of woman. Obviously the team's primary mission will be to protect Sadira, but it will also have the secondary mission of protecting the other girls, unless and/or until that mission conflicts with the primary mission. The team can be on its way if/when you give a go and will arrive within 3 hours, but I will need an airport and AFB that can accomodate sub-orbital aircraft.

Raahmid shook his head, beginning the letter for the sixth time. Nuance measured against necessity – in the end, he decided on directness.


NATO Encrypted Reply

Given the sensitivity of the subject, this would appear to be an adequate precaution, particularly as it will allay your fears – and those of your nation.

Nassanuella is the best locale to accommodate a sub-orbital; it will be necessary for your team to “go through normal channels” to keep this as quiet as possible. I have no intention of involving the VAS in this, nor creating a… butting of heads over security.

Transmit appropriate documentation to my office, for appropriate filing and processing. I shall have it done with before your team arrives.

Goodness knows what should happen if… but I digress. The members of the team are quite on their own, to do their best in all parts of their mission and their disguise.

Namaste,
Raahmid Javani
Grand Vizier,
Humble Servant of His Magnificence, the Sultan of Vastiva

Frank Harrigen

Frank nodded slowly, sighing where needed, then giving his thumb print. "Then, we are finished. Gowa Industries thanks you for your time, and looks forward to future relations." He quickly finishes his milk, then stands, bows, and is lead out by the one called Olaf, taken back to the VIP TRansport Shuttle and the four waiting Realians...

~~~~~~~~~~

Kera Light and Zukie Irawata

The two Nekos watch the happenings with vieled curosity. They first made a move to help the young woman, but once the other two were on her, they halted any such actions and waited.

"Did they tell anyone why we were diverted here?" Engred asked.

Zukie shook her head. "Not I. Kera, did they tell you?"

Kera shook her head as well. "No. We were told to come here in the first place. I thought nothing of it." She shurgged helplessly.

Zukie sighed, silently wondering if Engred was some sort of pyschic...

((OOC: My posts are defiantly going to be few and far between in this thread. I'll try to squeeze in a post per day, but dont count on it.))

The hiss of the outer door being disengaged caught most if not all by surprise.

There was a pause, the clank of metal, another hiss. A light above the door went from red to green.

Then the inner door hissed loudly, and swung slowly open.

The VAS officer entering first looks mildly nonplussed, a slight embarrassed smile on his face, he has his head lowered just a tad, just in case. Behind him, a slimmer woman dressed entirely in white pulls a white covered cart into the room, straining a bit with the load.

The officer stops, gives a slight head nod. “Your pardon for your accommodations. It was the best we could do on such short notice. I am Giap Risaldar Barr Seif al-Siraj, of the Nassanuellan Permanent Guard, Fourth Unit. It was imperative to see to your safety first. Fortunately, that measure is accomplished. If you would…”

He nods at the woman, who uncovers the cart and opens it, unfolding and setting it just so. A steamer, fresh milk, a pitcher of plain tea, coffee urn, and several bottles of wine are evident on the exposed side.

“We were unsure of all your preferences, so our mess did the best it could on short notice. We hope this will be sufficient, though we are more then able to entertain requests if nothing here meets your standards.”

A single plate is piled high with yufka boreks, fried mozzarella sticks, and several small cheese soufflés. Another proves to contain a mozzarella and tomato salad; steam rises from the tray of hot wings; the last contains a variety of stuffed mushrooms.

Several salt-grilled sea bass appear on a platter, accompanied by smoked prawns; another plate proves to contain several pan-seared rib-eyes – yet another, a herbed flan topped thickly with caviar. Bulgur lentil pilaf with tahini-herb sauce shares space with coconut shrimp in a peanut sauce; a marinated crab salad seems to have been added as an afterthought.

Several cheeses make their appearance, laid out festively for any to choose from, from cheddar to edam to feta to swiss to a fine stilton. Several roasted figs with gorgonzola and rosemary are plated beside the cheese, just in case.

Large chunks of ekmeh and kunife are set out; she breaks a few, leaves the rest whole. A pot of torba yorgodu, one of suzme yag, and another of honeyed butter is set beside them.

Small pots of chahneh, hosafi, kayisi, salsa verde, torba yorgodu, and toom are made available; a plate of baklawa still steams even in the room’s pleasant temperature; she cuts into a fresh coconut pie and lets it breathe.

The woman finishes by setting out several bowls, flat plates, mugs, and silverware. With a slight flourish, she uncovers a steaming urn of yayla corba, fills a bowl and offers it to Medea.

“As you dine, I have been instructed to answer questions as I may.” He gives another shy smile. “It will indeed be my pleasure to do so for the time you have here. The Palace has assured us, it will not be long before they will remove you to more... fitting surroundings.”

(Curious about the menu? Click here. (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Diet_in_Vastiva))

OOC: those really curious, his name means “Just Sword from the Light”. A Giap Risaldar is approximately a Captain.

Medea walked up to Engred, sat down, and as quietly as possible, asked "Which is is, you think? Past, present, or future?"

The question carried a weight-and sounded a lot like something HrowllChmee would ask over the fires. Engred surrendered to it. "It was vivid, but it felt... unstoppable. like watching the Hrrgghhsss in the dancing flames-you reach out to it, but..." her eyes were misty with fatigue, "You can't stop it." Her voice was very low, a confidence, "It was something that is already past. I haven't had one hit me like that since I was eight..." the doors opened, and a VAS officer was speaking, but Engred's whisper continued, "...and never without the proper preparations. This one hit without so much as a candle."

She stood up, and accepted a small plate of fish, and the simplest greens she could find amongst that kingly feast-but it was difficult, trying to manage her plate with one injured hand.

The woman in white is quickly at Engred's side; with a quick smile, she carries her plate for her. Gesturing, she indicates each dish - if a nod or such is received, some is added to the plate, if not then none is.

The woman in white is quickly at Engred's side; with a quick smile, she carries her plate for her. Gesturing, she indicates each dish - if a nod or such is received, some is added to the plate, if not then none is.

Engred sighs in deep appreciation-her hand hurt quite badly enough to accept the offer of help. She indicates the sea-bass, and certain other dishes. Most of her selections seem guided by smell than appearance, and she steers away from cheeses and creams.
"Thank you." she finally says, and commences to eating.

Engred eats like a starving wolf, barely able to restrain herself from rudeness.
It's like she hasn't eaten in days.

OOC: As a side note - cheese is just short of a religion in Vastiva.

Medea helps herself to the sumptuous foods arrayed before her, taking care to select several of the cheeses. She had paid close attention to Kriovalian books dealing with the subject of Vastiva, as well as United Nations memoranda on the issue of cheese production in that nation. After choosing modest yet filling portions, the Kriovalian woman sat down, offered a quick silent prayer to the Gods, and began to eat slowly, tasting everything carefully.
---------------
Meanwhile, in Krioval, a bureaucrat had just been demoted. His sin? He had neglected to notify the Commander of the terrorist attack in Vastiva until several days after the fact, considering it to be of minor to moderate significance. When Raijin had found out, he had exploded in fury, tempering it long enough to compose a message to the stricken country.

Grand Vizier Javani,

The knowledge of this attack reaches me late. I apologize. Is there anything that Krioval could do to assist in the investigation of or the reconstruction following this tragedy? Also, there is a Kriovalian woman who applied for one of your job offerings. Is she safe?

Commander Raijin Dekker

The note was informal, considering the damage done, but Vastiva and Krioval were at least somewhat friendly toward one another, and Raijin wanted to make sure that his citizens were in good hands. An international incident at this point could prove disastrous, and the politicians would be howling within hours if there weren't answers to their questions.

Grand Vizier Javani,

The knowledge of this attack reaches me late. I apologize. Is there anything that Krioval could do to assist in the investigation of or the reconstruction following this tragedy? Also, there is a Kriovalian woman who applied for one of your job offerings. Is she safe?

Commander Raijin Dekker

Raahmid nodded at the message and began to type... but stopped. Too often had he read reports from Suleman about their ability, propriety - and downright sheer chutzpah.

He removed a black case from the center drawer, a sheet of parchment, a shaker of fine sand. And he began to write.


Commander Dekker,

We thank you for your concern; I apologize for not informing you sooner of the lack of need for such. The terrorists were eliminated at scene; there were few injuries and the only deaths were those laid down their lives for their causes, or their duties.

At this time, it is physically impossible to construct anything externally in Vastiva - the weather is a formidable opponent, particularly in winter. The internal damage from the bombers was - fortunately - not structural, only cosmetic.

I also assure you, personally, of your candidates safety.

If it would not be of great consequence, a casual inquiry into the group calling itself "Janus bin Toto" would be of benefit, should some tie into another nation reveal itself. Truly, you need not trouble yourself, but if you find the need, there is our want.

My apologies again for not writing sooner.

May Allah smile upon you, and the twenty-ninth step not be taken lightly.

Raahmid Javani


He considered the letter, sanding it lightly and puffing to dry the ink. When acceptable, a courier would be called for hand-delivery.

Perhaps, nodded Raahmid,that will make up for our earlier lack of courtesy.

"Mmm....wonderful!" she said, finishing her first plate.

Engred finished her serving, and went back for more-this time asking for cheese-dishes.
She ate each separate item one-at-a-time. but it didn't help-she was... Starving. Each bite seemed to sharpen the pangs of hunger more.
She forced herself to slow-down, and taste the food, but the wonders of the different, foreign flavours mixed with the pangs of hunger to make it almost torture to do so.

"yes..yes mmmhh.. yum..." Second plate

Compared to most of the others, Engred was eating with a ravenous desire, and she was eating more than the others-many of whom were already violating diets just with the small portions they had.

by the fourth plate, she was drawing amazed looks from the staff. Engred was Loudly appreciative after eating each dish-and she seemed to now be committed to eating one of every dish brought-unless someone else got to it first.

Vastivans pride themselves on their cooking (or so it is said), and if so, Engred Stahlhaver was the kind of appreciative audience one rarely encounters. She started with a full serving of meats and fishes, worked her way through vegetable dishes (and not small portions of either), then, when it seemed she would ignore the cheeses and creams, began working her way through those. One-by-one, in order, eating each individual portion before moving to the next.

her eyes reflected almost a mad appetite, the look of one denied food for a long time.

"Hollow leg", "Bottomless Pit"... easily, Engred had consumed and complimented as much as any three other 'guests'.

and she was still hungry.

After her fourth plate, she just... stopped. "Thank you, it was very good... now, why were we diverted here, if you please, sir?" she asked, meek as a mouse again-the only evidence of this incredible, unbelieveable appetite being the nearly-clean (sterilize cycle at most) dishes, she prodded, "There was an attack, correct?"

Giap Risaldar Barr Seif al-Siraj nodded, his embarrassment spreading a bit as he does so.

"Indeed. There was an attempt to... remove a candidate at Gardemeister. Two, in fact. The first by a suicide bombing, the second with a rather dated missile. Neither succeeded. Our internal security is well at work, though I am informed there is no further significant threat."

He shrugs. "It does not matter. The weather gets worse, which removes external threats. Inside this complex, you have the better part of a half-million watchful eyes, if you do not include civilians. Have you been outside, Ayid?"

Giap Risaldar Barr Seif al-Siraj nodded, his embarrassment spreading a bit as he does so.

"Indeed. There was an attempt to... remove a candidate at Gardemeister. Two, in fact. The first by a suicide bombing, the second with a rather dated missile. Neither succeeded. Our internal security is well at work, though I am informed there is no further significant threat."

He shrugs. "It does not matter. The weather gets worse, which removes external threats. Inside this complex, you have the better part of a half-million watchful eyes, if you do not include civilians. Have you been outside, Ayid?"

She sighed, "Thank you, for the answers... I was not quite sure... Um, we can?" she asked, adding, "Go outside, I mean...it is permitted?" her eagerness was hard to disguise-so she took the simplest course, and did not.

The letter arrived in Krioval. The Commander looked up in surprise as it was hand-delivered. Bemusedly, he reached into his pocket, withdrew a 50 kTr note, and handed it to the courier, following with, "Don't spend it all in one place, ya know?" Then he looked at the letter itself.

Commander Dekker,

We thank you for your concern; I apologize for not informing you sooner of the lack of need for such. The terrorists were eliminated at scene; there were few injuries and the only deaths were those laid down their lives for their causes, or their duties.

At this time, it is physically impossible to construct anything externally in Vastiva - the weather is a formidable opponent, particularly in winter. The internal damage from the bombers was - fortunately - not structural, only cosmetic.

I also assure you, personally, of your candidates safety.

If it would not be of great consequence, a casual inquiry into the group calling itself "Janus bin Toto" would be of benefit, should some tie into another nation reveal itself. Truly, you need not trouble yourself, but if you find the need, there is our want.

My apologies again for not writing sooner.

May Allah smile upon you, and the twenty-ninth step not be taken lightly.

Raahmid Javani

"Handwritten. Damn. Now I'll have to write one back."

"They going to be able to read your writing?" Darvek quipped. "I'd hate for them to think it's a declaration of war or something."

"Shut up, Darvek." Raijin withdrew a sheet of vellum and a pen, and wrote.

Grand Vizier Javani,

Thank you for your prompt reply. It is unfortunate to hear of domestic strife in your nation, though I am personally satisfied to see a quick resolution to the crisis. I am also gratified to hear that the Lady Lakat has suffered no undue stress in the matter, though I daresay that she is probably capable of self-defense should the need arise. I pray that the injured young woman recovers swiftly, and am willing to send several Kriovalian doctors to her bedside should intervention be desired.

As for the organization you have mentioned, there were no hits in our database, however, we have ordered the detention of any person whose involvement in that group is suspected. Krioval abhors terrorism and will make every necessary preparation to root it out. On an unrelated note, I recently requested an investigation into the trade status between our nations, and was horrified to see that some ancient legislation had actually enacted trade protections against Vastiva. Suffice it to say that the problem has been resolved, to our mutual benefit.

May the Great Gods bless us both!

Lord Raijin Dekker Darklighter, the Light
Commander of Krioval
High Paladin of Solokaro

"Gods, that took for friggin' ever!" Raijin took the delicate paper and placed it into a large envelope, added a formal-sounding document that set tariffs against Vastiva to zero, and sealed the whole thing. Looking around for a delivery person, his eyes landed on a rather bored-looking guard. "Yo. Uh...Hal, is it?"

The man practically jumped to attention. "Yes, Lord Commander!"

"I need you to take this to Vastiva. Do you have a coat?"

She sighed, "Thank you, for the answers... I was not quite sure... Um, we can?" she asked, adding, "Go outside, I mean...it is permitted?" her eagerness was hard to disguise-so she took the simplest course, and did not.

Medea looked at her. "Cold. Cold, cold, cold, cold. In Krioval's it's ninety degrees warmer than this."

OOC: Temperatures in Celsius, just for reference.

She sighed, "Thank you, for the answers... I was not quite sure... Um, we can?" she asked, adding, "Go outside, I mean...it is permitted?" her eagerness was hard to disguise-so she took the simplest course, and did not.

That got a blink from the Giap Risaldar.

"As you are candidates, very little should be refused you. This, though... "

He stops, uncomfortable. "Candidate, the current temperature outside is minus sixty celcius. Winds are around forty miles per hour - which, in truth, are not bad for this time, almost unseasonably calm. There is nothing to see, as there is no light outside - the base is blacked out, and the sun will not rise again for at least four months."

"If you truly wish to see outside, it could be arranged... but it is muched hoped you will not take the twenty-nine steps. Have you ever been in a polar environment?"

That got a blink from the Giap Risaldar.

"As you are candidates, very little should be refused you. This, though... "

He stops, uncomfortable. "Candidate, the current temperature outside is minus sixty celcius. Winds are around forty miles per hour - which, in truth, are not bad for this time, almost unseasonably calm. There is nothing to see, as there is no light outside - the base is blacked out, and the sun will not rise again for at least four months."

"If you truly wish to see outside, it could be arranged... but it is muched hoped you will not take the twenty-nine steps. Have you ever been in a polar environment?"

"My homeland is quite near a...different...pole. We get about four hours of daylight midwinter, except in the reaches-where my Aunt and someone... special once lived, which recieve about two. I would dearly love to see the stars, and minus sixty is... within my realm of experience-though I admit I have only seen the southern constellations in books-is there a clear sky?"

Zukie herself treated herself to several helpings of the fish, and a light smattering of greens and a few thin slices of cheese, complete with the largest glass of milk. While she ate nowhere near as much as Engred, she herself did have a fair bit more then the other candidates. On her second trip, she brings back two servings of the sea bass, giving one plate to Kera, who bows.

"Thank you, Maiden." She says, whispering a prayer to the Goddess Cori before setting in to eat.

Zukie smiles, tossing in her two cents. "On Planet Krowemoh, it's about 67 to 88 degrees all year round. Planet Jun is hot all year around too, on cool days pushing triple digits. I think planet Lago is the only planet that's even remotely cold in the Corporate Empire, and that's only because its in the later stages of terraforming. Mmmhmmm."

Her ears perked up, humming to herself as she sets back into her meal.

The woman in white merely smiles, winks at Engred, and continues her service, tending to plates, moving the offerings around as they slowly empty.

Barr Seif al-Siraj shook his head. “There is currently no sky. But I will see what I can do. You will not mind if your equipment is checked out beforehand?” His attention turns to Zukie for a moment. “It is good to see you eat well, be sure she is well fed. A normal day here, outside, can burn up a good eight thousand calories.”

To Medea, “If your transportation is delayed – as it may be – we will be sure to bring in very warm blankets for you. Each bunk has a kit beneath it – if there is a breech, remove it and crawl inside the emergency shelter. They are rated beyond what we can reasonably expect – though they are a bit cramped.”

And finally to Zukie “Our climate fluctuates between the low eightys in some parts during local summer and… very cold. We have recordings of temperatures as low as minus two hundred and six degrees, but not in recent history. It is unlikely the temperature will go beneath minus eighty five or so. Though, that does not take into account wind chill,” he adds thoughtfully, “and I have been wrong before.”


OOC: conversion: -60C = -76F. At this temperature, the skin of your face freezes solid - if it moves it breaks. And warming it afterwards is very painful.

Zukie nods. "Okay. Well, I don't plan on going outside anytime soon. Umh... I assume that once we're able to, we'll be taken to the Sultan, or at least where we'll be living for the rest of our term here?"

Engred got another plate after hearing this, as she did so, she said, "Sure...actually, it's usually a good idea for someone else to check your gear before going out into the weather after dark."

“Yes, Ayid. Transportation is being arranged. If the Palace believes it is safe, we will move you there when your transport arrives. Though – and I do apologize – our Sultan is currently not in the country.”

At that, he removes a device from his belt, clicks it once, and speaks rapidly into the air before him. It twitters back in a long string of what could be words, but arranged in no logical sense. He answers back, sharply, and clicks it again.

“Our commander states the Palace wishes you to arrive tonight, and we are to convey you there. A bus should be ready in an hour at most – though we would know if you wish to be driven all the way there, or take the shuttle?”

The woman in white begins looking over Engred’s gear, a look of critical examination on her face. This doesn’t take longer then a few minutes – she stands up and shakes her head at the Giap Risaldar. He shrugs and addresses Engred.

“Ayid, if you would, we would be honored to give you a set of military gear for the time being. Our driver can wait a few minutes before we depart, if you wish to walk about before leaving?”

“Yes, Ayid. Transportation is being arranged. If the Palace believes it is safe, we will move you there when your transport arrives. Though – and I do apologize – our Sultan is currently not in the country.”

At that, he removes a device from his belt, clicks it once, and speaks rapidly into the air before him. It twitters back in a long string of what could be words, but arranged in no logical sense. He answers back, sharply, and clicks it again.

“Our commander states the Palace wishes you to arrive tonight, and we are to convey you there. A bus should be ready in an hour at most – though we would know if you wish to be driven all the way there, or take the shuttle?”

The woman in white begins looking over Engred’s gear, a look of critical examination on her face. This doesn’t take longer then a few minutes – she stands up and shakes her head at the Giap Risaldar. He shrugs and addresses Engred.

“Ayid, if you would, we would be honored to give you a set of military gear for the time being. Our driver can wait a few minutes before we depart, if you wish to walk about before leaving?”


Engred caught the look, and interpreted it. "Um...yeah, that's fine." she cast her eyes down, "I'd like that very much."
It was a little bit embarassing-the clothes were the best she could get back home-but she'd seen some of the Vastivan troops-and theirs looked much, much, more advanced. Too long isolated from the world, but what choice did we really have? She would adapt. Engred folded her things and put them away in her case, keeping out a few small items she knew she would need on her walk outside.

Hhrowwl-Chmee's firestones, a ptarmidgan feather she'd found and kept for all of these years, a small, chipped knife of obsidian that she'd made, and the ancient one had placed a blessing on, her "Protection-Luck bag"-there was no word she knew in any human tongue for it, but like the other items, it was precious enough that even when she'd tried to cast aside what she'd learned from that year to embrace the world of technology and hard reason, she kept it-clung to it, something she'd made under her oldest teacher.
To others, even back home, it was just random, no doubt childish, knicknackery. But Engred could NOT let go of it.

Zukie nods slowly. "If by 'the shuttle' you mean the Regeal Flower,, then yes, I would probably like to ride there in that then on the bus. No offense to present company." She tilts her head to one side, planting a single fingertip on her chin, "In fact, those Ultor VIP Shuttles are designed to transport a good deal of people at once, and can do so very comfortably, I might add. If need be, I can get the pilots to transport everyone here to the palace in our shuttle. Umh... That's assumming it's still here?" She blinked quickly, that particular thought hitting her at last... "Anyway to check if it hasn't left yet?"

~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, with the last of the Weapons Grade Realians onboard, the Regeal Flower retracts the telepad and begins to power up its drives, the Ring Drive humming as it began to recieve energy from the ship's reactor...

OOC: A Quick Note to inform everyone - a summary of events will be appearing in the OOC Thread, and I'll be adding it to the bottom of all my posts as a reference.

Please note, this information is OOC, so the players can keep up without reading everything in here.

If anyone wonders why there aren't many long posts by me - this was the major project for today.

Click here for the link to Summary #1 (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=8639980&postcount=42)

Barr Seif al-Siraj clicked his M-TCOD again, and spoke rapidly. The device warbled an answer.

“Unfortunately, that is not possible. But, if it would please you, Ayid, we will suffer to do our best for you. Our monorail system - accessing most if not all of Vastiva - has a private car for your usage. We refer to it as a shuttle.”

He gives a warm smile and a bow to Zukie before addressing the rest of the room as well.

“As to the remainder of your luggages, they will be loaded aboard the bus, whatever has not already been transported. You need not dress warmly, the bus is heated and airlocked appropriately, though it would not be untoward to have warm footgear. We will have quickcoats stocked and at each seat, should you find a need for warmer clothing. If you are hungry, eat what you will – we can also pack extras if you wish for the trip, though it will not be that long.”

He stops a moment. “If any of you would like a look around, we can have additional military suits brought in?”

After the suit arrives...
Engred finished closing the fasteners on the Vastivan suit, and allowed the silent one to check her over. A few faint tugs, and the silent lady nodded.
If you are intending to live here, it's a good idea to see where you are intending to be...

[Sorry about being so late to reply, Vast.]

#include<msgset.h>

void crypset(NATO)
{
//
TO: Grand Vizier Raahmid Javani
FR: Duchess Asiya Saleh
SUB: RE: RE: Concerns
ATT: Imperial Editct A23020408-1
Grand Vizier,

Attached is the Imperial Edict dictating the terms of Sadira's security arrangements until such time as she is in residence in the Sultan's Palace. A copy will be presented personally to the commander of Nassanuella Base. Should they object the soldiers will have with them another edict; this one signed by the Empress, myself in my role as her guardian and Duchess, and the Primus of both the Upper and Lower Houses of the Senate authorizing her removal from this program should you or the base commander object.

While I dislike playing diplomatic hardball and dislike upsetting my grand niece even more, this is a matter of the utmost importance for Imperial internal security and integrity. The Imperium cannot ignore this threat to somebody of such importance and if we cannot adequately protect her we will remove her from the vicinity of the threat, which means removing her from Vastiva.

}

void endcryp(crypset)
{
call crypset(NATO);
}

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Nassanuella Base Tower, this is Helios 9 coming in sub-orbital and requesting permission to land, sending NATO authorization codes now. Please advise atmospheric conditions," Captain Kashani almost rolled his eyes as he said this. Sub-orbital rarely had enough fuel to make a round-trip without landing to take on more fuel, so if Nassanuella tried to wave him off he'd have no choice but to declare a low fuel emergency and land anyway.

Encryption Key: For the benefit of both

Gad-Nicle-Gat- Zander
-----------------|
Zin-Galt-Los-Veldene
----------|---------
Kol-Yq-Fvpqr-Nicheleteron

To: Grand Vizier Raahmid Javani
From: The Foreign affairs office

We have heard about your offer, we would've responded sooner but we've been having "problems." The candidate from this country will be Vivian Vagqu, of the Tqu ethnic group. She shall have the same document as in
KL0-7&$-DAQ-MAND-AUTH
Also, we've heard about the recent incident, and so are sendind our own A/SOHSS to transport her, along with a heavily armed escort of
Dry-Sun-Old-Thrack
-----|-------------
Heavy-Force-Blast-Light
---------------|-------
5 men equipped with LECI Rifles Mk. II and handheld Gauss Cannons.
---------------|------
Heavy-Force-Blast-Light
-----|------------
Dry-Sun-Old-Thrack

We will not tolerate her death.
[Downloading File MAND
Error
Error
Corrected]

The thick cream notepaper, the copperplate handwriting, the careful superscription, all proclaimed a small, old-fashioned state.

The content of the letter did not.

My dear Grand Vizier,

I attach, with this note, all the necessary documents regarding Myfanwy Mhairi ap Hughes, a young woman of Findhorn who wishes to apply for one of the harem positions you recently advertised internationally.

From these you will find that she is educated (MA Hons Pol Sci), physically fit (hang-gliding) and talented (acclaimed folksinger, professional storyteller for computer games). None of these documents will tell you why we value her, or why you should too. That is the purpose of this note.

She has been brought up as a Child of the Goddess at the Abbey of Findhorn. This has given her an awareness that we all climb the same mountain, but each must find her own path. Thus she honours all faiths to the extent that they are honourable. She can be trusted not to force her beliefs on others.

I have watched her grow for 23 years. I am aware of her strengths and weaknesses. Her strength is her indomitability. She will always bounce back, no matter what life throws at her. She may seem to bend, but will not break.

Her weakness is her empathy. She is so determined to be fair that she tries to see every situation from the point of view of all concerned. Sometimes this is useful, as it helps her see an enemy as a potential friend and, conversely, see why friends can become enemies. Sometimes, however, it can immobilise her -- as when she is faced with a decision that will assuredly benefit her, but may cause problems for others. In such circumstances it is usually enough to point out firmly that she must decide, as her dithering will cause even more harm.

I am uncertain from the terms of your advertisement whether she will be expected to bear children for your Sultan. She is fertile and her genetic inheritance is almost abnormally normal. However, be aware that if conditions in your nation are at any time unfavourable in her eyes, she will not be able to conceive.

We find her wilful, tender, capricious, funny, sagacious, eager and delightful. None of us can fully understand why such a person should seek the position you have advertised, which would seem to require a certain meekness and a habit of obedience. Nonetheless, we trust her to know her own mind and so commend her to you.

Yours Faithfully,

Mirrim, Abbess of Findhorn.

For an insight into the circumstances that have influenced Myfanwy's decision, go to http://www.forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=411350

[Sorry about being so late to reply, Vast.]

#include<msgset.h>

void crypset(NATO)
{
//
TO: Grand Vizier Raahmid Javani
FR: Duchess Asiya Saleh
SUB: RE: RE: Concerns
ATT: Imperial Editct A23020408-1
Grand Vizier,

Attached is the Imperial Edict dictating the terms of Sadira's security arrangements until such time as she is in residence in the Sultan's Palace. A copy will be presented personally to the commander of Nassanuella Base. Should they object the soldiers will have with them another edict; this one signed by the Empress, myself in my role as her guardian and Duchess, and the Primus of both the Upper and Lower Houses of the Senate authorizing her removal from this program should you or the base commander object.

While I dislike playing diplomatic hardball and dislike upsetting my grand niece even more, this is a matter of the utmost importance for Imperial internal security and integrity. The Imperium cannot ignore this threat to somebody of such importance and if we cannot adequately protect her we will remove her from the vicinity of the threat, which means removing her from Vastiva.

}

void endcryp(crypset)
{
call crypset(NATO);
}

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Nassanuella Base Tower, this is Helios 9 coming in sub-orbital and requesting permission to land, sending NATO authorization codes now. Please advise atmospheric conditions," Captain Kashani almost rolled his eyes as he said this. Sub-orbital rarely had enough fuel to make a round-trip without landing to take on more fuel, so if Nassanuella tried to wave him off he'd have no choice but to declare a low fuel emergency and land anyway.

~Helios 9, this is Nassanuella Air Command Tower One. We have you on scope. Advise, conditions are zero visibility, temperature minus six-zero and holding, winds fluctuating between three-six and four-two knots from the South, course 82 from beacon. Home on beacon three, feed on channel six.
Emergency units are on alert.~

***

Tabu Colonel Wafik shook his head. "Are they aware they will only be here, an hour or so - maybe less?"
"I am sure such considerations did not enter into their particular order of... controlled panic. It is not often Vastiva entertains any sort of dictatorial note from any nation, even if that one is a NATO ally. But in this case," Raahmid leaned back from his screen, his image copying his move in miniature," you may consider it a diplomatic overture, Commander."
"I see. And as such..."
"You need not trouble yourself with anything save refueling their transport, showing them what is going on, and continuing as usual."
"No need to... inform anyone else, I suppose."
"Of course not. Many ears may be listening. And we would not wish to inform them of any goings on."
"Ah, no, there is that. Would you transmit that order?"
"But of course."
"I am rather curious how they will protect her in transit..."
"Realisticly, that is not your concern. We do our part, they do what they wish, and this... series of unfortunate events will be a part of history."
"Of course. If there was nothing else?"
"Not at this time."

Encryption Key: For the benefit of both

Gad-Nicle-Gat- Zander
-----------------|
Zin-Galt-Los-Veldene
----------|---------
Kol-Yq-Fvpqr-Nicheleteron

To: Grand Vizier Raahmid Javani
From: The Foreign affairs office

We have heard about your offer, we would've responded sooner but we've been having "problems." The candidate from this country will be Vivian Vagqu, of the Tqu ethnic group. She shall have the same document as in
KL0-7&$-DAQ-MAND-AUTH
Also, we've heard about the recent incident, and so are sendind our own A/SOHSS to transport her, along with a heavily armed escort of
Dry-Sun-Old-Thrack
-----|-------------
Heavy-Force-Blast-Light
---------------|-------
5 men equipped with LECI Rifles Mk. II and handheld Gauss Cannons.
---------------|------
Heavy-Force-Blast-Light
-----|------------
Dry-Sun-Old-Thrack

We will not tolerate her death.
[Downloading File MAND
Error
Error
Corrected]

Encrypted Reply

Inasmuch as we do seek relations with all nations, our interest in having armed troops on our land is minimal at best.

We absolutely do not allow them in the Palace proper.

You may transport your candidate if you wish. We do not accept your troops, and request they remain on your transport as mistakes of intent could easily be made, and we are certainly not interested in an international event occuring.

OOC: In about seven hours I'll have up the transit, to give people a chance to decide who wants to look around, who doesn't, and give everyone a chance to catch up.

***

Tabu Colonel Elliot Wafik looked about as happy as a braised clam at the arrival of the Scandavian troops – that much could be seen through his clear facemask. He met the orbital at the runway, stepped aboard as soon as allowed.

“Greetings.” He takes the ultimatum, nods without reading it. “Thanks, I’ve seen the advance copy."

He flicks open his M-TCOD, displays a map. “Here’s where they are right now, here’s us and this is the way through that ridge you see between us – two doors and a short passage, two more doors. This is the course they’re going to take off base and towards the Palace – should take about two hours to get off the base, another five in transit maximum, unless they go by monorail, where it will take less then one. These green dots are our spotters. Traffic has been completely cleared from the area – no real problem, this weather is fersheiss and everyone is on public transit if they’re thinking of going anywhere.

“You can deploy around their location, use any vehicle you thought to bring, or I can loan you some Polar Bears to follow in. I've got an SV-206 IFV near, though it can carry only six. I'll even loan you the driver.

"Oh, yes, and as you're going to be traipsing around my base - If your suits have IFF, use today’s NATO code. If they don’t, we have slap patches for your uniforms. Choose neither, and we accept no responsibility when our defenses turn you into burnt toast.”

Encrypted Reply

Inasmuch as we do seek relations with all nations, our interest in having armed troops on our land is minimal at best.

We absolutely do not allow them in the Palace proper.

You may transport your candidate if you wish. We do not accept your troops, and request they remain on your transport as mistakes of intent could easily be made, and we are certainly not interested in an international event occuring.

We will accept that.

Being in the battlearmour as she was, Captain Turunen could not show any emotion, but the amusement in her voice projected well over the speaker that acted as the suit's mouth, "Honestly Colonel, do you take us for bufoons to do something so stupid as to run around a foreign base without any identification? At any rate, Sadira will be taking the monorail, it is the shortest path to the Sultan's palace and allows us to be by her side in the event of another attack against the candidates."

After standing up, checking her gear, and inputing the waypoints into her armour's map system, she continued, "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to get my team on to Sadira's side ASAP"

With that she saluted the Colonel and led her team past him at a trot. After exiting the craft they went to a full run, which was somewhat faster than a non-suited human could do.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Some while later the Captain and her XO were standing in front of the Duchess-to-be explaining the situation. Sadira, to her credit, looked both embarassed and angry. Finally Turunen had no choice but to level the ultimatum, "Either you cooperate with your Aunt's wishes and accept this for a few hours or you go home. Those are your only two options."

After giving the Imperial Army officer a baleful look she said, "Fine, I'll go along with this rediculous notion, but on one condition."

"What would that be, Lady Sadira?" the Captain asked.

"Get out of my sight," the words were nearly bitten off.

If the helmets the soldiers were wearing would have allowed it, Sadira would have noticed the three in the room smiled, "No problem at all, milady."

The three soldiers stepped back against the walls, two on either side of Sadira and another facing the entrance to the room, and litterally disappeared. Nobody would've notice their presence unless they were wearing something that allowed them to read IFF tags. The two soldiers on either side of the door to the room had also done the same, but since they weren't in the room proper it was unlikely anybody inside noticed.

Sadira had known something was odd about the soldiers when they walked into the room, besides the fact that they wore powered armour that made them look like 6'5" tall women. Their weapons, barrel and body, had been encased in a synthetic covering that never went past the stock of the weapon in the normal rifles. The fact that both the soldiers and weapons had disappeared visually so suddenly confirmed her base suspicion, but she was still surprised for she had never heard of the Imperial Army developing anything resembling active camo.

We will accept that.

Encrypted Reply

Excellent. Perhaps we should also inform you, should she be inducted into the harem, she shall be conferred Vastivan citizenry - in which case, she becomes no longer your worry.

We shall clear you for landing at Breathed Cargo Base.

Engred's walk was interrupted for a moment by the passage of a number of large objects headed back the way she'd come. More wonders... even the sense of life was muted-though the immediate-threat feeling (that warning your gut gives when a car on the hill above you slips out of gear and rols silently in your direction) was very strong for a moment.
Through the advanced-synthetic of the Vastivan boots, she could still sense something deep under the snow and ice, dormant and resting, waiting the ages out until the plates slide once more.
she found an open-area that was not a road or path, and had some shelter from the howling of the wind.
Normally, she would wait until some private hour for this, but she had the feeling that this was about as 'private' as her life would be-at least, for a while, and the Ritual of Introduction had to be done.

The spirits of this land have already made me know their power... the vision had been so bad she was still burnt-and that meant that there was a lot of power here-and it did not want to be ignored any longer.

As she laid the firestones in a circle, she hoped she wouldn't have to face a Hunt-somehow, the thought of confronting the local version of a Polar Bear did not seem to be altogether wise-the local species was clearly altered, and whatever malevolent entity did the work probably left marks behind... the kind that could not be reasoned with or placated.

She knelt in the snow, and focused, chanting quietly in a tiny pocket of absolute calm.

[Observation by anyone bearing witness-probably the Vastivan guards: The snow is building up on one side of an 'invisible' barrier about a meter in diameter, and there's a definite heat-plume around where she's kneeling-about -30 C instead of -60, which is enough to register on thermals.]

Well... there goes my image of the science-geek... the dormant power didn't 'greet', but it acknowledged her-the way an Oliphaunt might acknowledge a shepard's dog instead of stepping on it- or a King might acknowledge another Lord's Serf in peaceful times.

For another minute, she felt herself regarded, and then, dismissed.

The circle folded in, and she collected her stones, and checked the time.

Ten minutes... not bad. I'll have to watch my step if it's this accessable-the local practicioners must be formidable as hell...

She finished cleaning up her 'debris', walked back over to the guards, and said, "I'm done, let's go inside."

Once again, Raahmid removed pen and parchement, and composed a suitable answer:


Ab-shalom and greetings to the Abbess of Findhorn,

It is hoped this missive finds you well and in good health.

Vastiva is currently in the throes of winter; the season is just beginning, but the systems – I am informed – have the potential for brutality. We are therefore sending a VAL 74SL to pick up your candidate at the airport of your choosing.

We have found, in our nation’s time of existence, our weather has shaped our people. To some, we may appear meek. To others, quiet. To still others, tenacious. All are, potentially, true – but any one view is incomplete.

As such, we have found any singular view of anything to be… incomplete.

I do invite you to tour our nation in Spring. It is most beautiful then. I would offer summer, but our beaches are rather packed then, what with the tourists and the various offerings from our cruise lines… but I digress.

We shall be pleased to, at the least, entertain your candidate for the time she is here. At the very least, she shall hear songs not heard before, and perhaps learn things which few outside our nation know.

We would finally mention, we are not looking for brood mares of any race – Vastiva’s Sultancy is not inherited by progeny, normally. It has happened, but not for the simplistic reason of sharing the same genes with the former Sultan.

At least not in the last four hundred years or so.

I thank you personally for your response, and your concern. If there is any manner in which I may allay your fears, please do but ask – I am entirely at your service.

Namaste,
Raahmid Javani
Grand Vizier,
Humble Servant of His Magnificence, the Sultan of Vastiva

Barr, to his credit, paid even less attention to four armed and armored figures walking into the barracks then he did to most members of the Palace’s green-robed guards. Then again, perhaps it was because he of all those in the room knew in advance what was coming – courtesy of his M-TCOD and a chirp in his ear.

Somewhat further away, there was a distinct “ACK!” as the technician on monitoring duty watched all four vanish from her screen – for a time. She was given a slight reprimand; more to her chagrin, her outburst would likely be repeated as a screensaver for some time to come, courtesy of her fellow technicians.

“Everyone going out suited up?” Barr waited for the nods. “Anything you want, place near the foot of the bed and we’ll move it up. Or,” - he gave a characteristicly Vastivan shrug – “you may carry it yourself. The rest of you, proceed directly up the tramway, if you would.”

He paid particular attention to Sadira’s choice

His M-TCOD extended a probe, which he touched next to the door, then pressed a key. With a hiss – and the illuminating of both green and red lights – the door swung open, revealing a clear “plastic” walkway, sealed tightly to the barracks and extending upwards at a slight slope. Pale green lighting fought off the black night, but only barely – a row of glowing golden lights inset in the floor showed the way up.

A slight puff of mist littered the bottom of the tramway – it had not been warm long.

The two guards at the bottom – one wearing the insignia of a Vastivan Naqqua, the other of a Daffidar – both carry FNP90 submachine guns, but strapped as they are they are hardly an immediate worry. With as little fuss as possible, they move the luggage not carried up into the “bus” – a transport vehicle with tires higher then a man is tall – and settle everyone in place.

“Oh! Is that real fur?”
The Daffidar nods. “Yes, Ayid.”
“Very warm. What kind?”
“Polar bear, Ayid. We try to use as much as we can.”

The doors close with a hiss behind the woman in white.


Barr removes several short cords from his outer pocket, attaching them from his belt to a D-ring on the belt of each candidate going outside. “These allow you ten feet, no more.”

He steps to each and plays with the belt for a moment; the clear plexi-masks glow with the same ghostly greenness the tramway demonstrated a moment ago, for just a moment.

“Your air recirculators are aided by movement, though certainly movement is not necessary. You will also note the masks do not cloud up – and they will not, even underwater.

“If for any reason you find yourself in straits, simply pull on the cord or follow it back to me. We will not be going far… particularly in this weather” he adds under his breath.

He steps them into the airlock – and the far door opens into blackness. There is, quite simply, no light at all; only the howl of the wind and the pressure of it’s kiss on the EDU. Looking in any direction does no good – there is no light to be had, no sight to see... the stars themselves have gone out… there is only wind… and endless cold…

Barr's voice chirps in their ears. "You do not need to step out of the airlock - the tramway will connect back when the last is ready to board... It can be overwhelming at first, but it is only dark - and you are quite safe."

A slight ‘click’ and the faceplate’s green glow returns – along with a twilight green view of the area. Four VAS troopers are standing around the small group – and they are no more then a few paces to what appears to be a large RV with wheels nine to ten feet diameter. “As you can see, you are quite safe. Take a look around if you will – but please do not wander.”


OOC: EDU – External Duty Uniform. See the OOC thread for a summary and notation of Vastivan Rank Structure. (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=407478&page=4)

Barr, to his credit, paid even less attention to four armed and armored figures walking into the barracks then he did to most members of the Palace’s green-robed guards. Then again, perhaps it was because he of all those in the room knew in advance what was coming – courtesy of his M-TCOD and a chirp in his ear.

Somewhat further away, there was a distinct “ACK!” as the technician on monitoring duty watched all four vanish from her screen – for a time. She was given a slight reprimand; more to her chagrin, her outburst would likely be repeated as a screensaver for some time to come, courtesy of her fellow technicians.

“Everyone going out suited up?” Barr waited for the nods. “Anything you want, place near the foot of the bed and we’ll move it up. Or,” - he gave a characteristicly Vastivan shrug – “you may carry it yourself. The rest of you, proceed directly up the tramway, if you would.”

He paid particular attention to Sadira’s choice

His M-TCOD extended a probe, which he touched next to the door, then pressed a key. With a hiss – and the illuminating of both green and red lights – the door swung open, revealing a clear “plastic” walkway, sealed tightly to the barracks and extending upwards at a slight slope. Pale green lighting fought off the black night, but only barely – a row of glowing golden lights inset in the floor showed the way up.

A slight puff of mist littered the bottom of the tramway – it had not been warm long.

The two guards at the bottom – one wearing the insignia of a Vastivan Naqqua, the other of a Daffidar – both carry FNP90 submachine guns, but strapped as they are they are hardly an immediate worry. With as little fuss as possible, they move the luggage not carried up into the “bus” – a transport vehicle with tires higher then a man is tall – and settle everyone in place.

“Oh! Is that real fur?”
The Daffidar nods. “Yes, Ayid.”
“Very warm. What kind?”
“Polar bear, Ayid. We try to use as much as we can.”

The doors close with a hiss behind the woman in white.


Barr removes several short cords from his outer pocket, attaching them from his belt to a D-ring on the belt of each candidate going outside. “These allow you ten feet, no more.”

He steps to each and plays with the belt for a moment; the clear plexi-masks glow with the same ghostly greenness the tramway demonstrated a moment ago, for just a moment.

“Your air recirculators are aided by movement, though certainly movement is not necessary. You will also note the masks do not cloud up – and they will not, even underwater.

“If for any reason you find yourself in straits, simply pull on the cord or follow it back to me. We will not be going far… particularly in this weather” he adds under his breath.

He steps them into the airlock – and the far door opens into blackness. There is, quite simply, no light at all; only the howl of the wind and the pressure of it’s kiss on the EDU. Looking in any direction does no good – there is no light to be had, no sight to see... the stars themselves have gone out… there is only wind… and endless cold…

Barr's voice chirps in their ears. "You do not need to step out of the airlock - the tramway will connect back when the last is ready to board... It can be overwhelming at first, but it is only dark - and you are quite safe."

A slight ‘click’ and the faceplate’s green glow returns – along with a twilight green view of the area. Four VAS troopers are standing around the small group – and they are no more then a few paces to what appears to be a large RV with wheels nine to ten feet diameter. “As you can see, you are quite safe. Take a look around if you will – but please do not wander.”


OOC: EDU – External Duty Uniform. See the OOC thread for a summary and notation of Vastivan Rank Structure. (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=407478&page=4)

Engred settled up into the 'bus' behind the others. Barr barely noticed her as she climbed up into the machine, and plunked down with her rather-small-for-this-company baggage.

she looked around for Medea, or Shizuko, but didn't see them immediately before she found a "window" seat and plopped into it.

OOC: I'm pausing posting for 24 to give anyone else a chance to catch up. After that... no promises. :D

Medea looked around. Cold and darkness. Two things that most Kriovalians never experienced wholly, and seldom both at the same time. "Cold", to a native Kriovalian, was anything below 15 degrees, except in some of the mountains, were snow occasionally fell in the dead of winter. Some of the colonies on various planets were said to experience more temperate weather, and that included blizzards, but again, that type of weather was restricted to wintertime. As for total darkness, the closest was when Valak lost power in a hurricane almost twenty years ago. But now, most cities were active to some level even in the middle of the night, and Torokara was extremely so. So Medea regarded both the frigid temperatures and the expansive darkness, and resolved to find as many opportunities to travel in June as possible.

As she boarded the transport vehicle, the Kriovalian looked for familiar faces, but temporarily seeing none, she selected a seat near the middle of the bus. Medea set down the pack she had insisted on carrying herself. What are you without strength? echoed in her head, a reminder of Krioval's brute efficiency - the weaker elements of society could wake one morning to find that society had effectively passed them by. As another homage to Kriovalian culture, Medea had packed the barest of essentials: a medical kit, personal hygiene products, and three days' worth of clothing. Vastiva had said it would provide. Besides, what good would the thong bikini been in such an icy place?

Tag. May be joining.

Zukie returns the bow and smile. "Then yes, the Monorail shuttle would suit me perfectly fine." Zukie stands when the 'order' to move out comes, and gather up the little carry-on she had brought along. "Come on Kera."

"Yes, Maiden." Kera said, she too picking up the small carry-tote she had, falling into line behind the others. They are loaded into a bus, a look of utter disgust crossing her face. "Sigh... Kera... Oui nasaspan ruf du cbayg Gnufasurian, nekrd?" She spoke quickly, switching from English to a Krowemohian dialect.

Kera blinked quickly, the words registering to her. Her cheeks flush beet red. "I can understand, but I never learned to speak it."

Zukie nods as the two find a pair of seats towards the front of the bus, obviously wanting to be as close to being the first off as possible. "No matter. I was only checking at any rate... Guess there is no helping it, then."

Highly encrypted e-mail:

From: Welder
To: Establisher

Things are going smoothly, the bug is in place. We will know everything.

Josephine sighed as she kicked backed in a chair, she lifted her dress up and her legs up and put them on a table. She had been going over the events of the past few hours(days?). She turned to a guard, not really sure if he would know.

"How long are we going to be here?"

She asked.

Premier Xerco Longbottom, Son of the Fourth House of the Voltaru, pushed a button on his intercom. "Bring her in, please."

The Premier sat at his large wooden desk, looking over the report and notes he was given less than an hour ago. The situation in The Voltarum's neighbor had been known for some time, and it was even reported several Voltaru had applied, but this was a different case... in more than one way.

The small, ornate door to his office opened, and in stepped a strikingly beautiful women. Xerco was impressed, for the servant was dressed in flowing robes made of very fine material, and had enough jewels on her to make the average Voltaru jealous. She walked up toward the Premier as the old man stood. She made a quarter turn and spoke: "Now announcing the head of the Second House of the Voltaru, the true, the pure, Lady Neira Vektori."

The servant took a step back, so the Premier could once again see the door. In stepped a young girl, dressed, if it could be done, finer than the servant woman. She was young, but if Xerco didn't know her record, he would probably guess her to be no more than 16. She walked with a mature and superior air, and her dress and mannerisms veiled her age. In reality, the head of the 2nd oldest house in the Voltarum was only a little over 12.

She came in and stood, and as was custom, Xerco gave her the traditional bow. They sat, and Xerco got immediately to the task at hand.

"Lady Vektori, it comes to some surprise to me you want to do this... I understand your situation, and the situation of your house, but to do this? You will lose everything... your status here, your wealth, even your citizenship. Are you sure this is what you want?"

The girl spoke. "I thank you, Premier, for your concern. But my life.. my house... is dead now, and we both know it. I have been bred by my late parents since I was 3 to lead this house, to keep up with its social obligations, but what good is all of that if there is no one to lead? If there is no male to continue the house? I will always be a Voltaru, my Premier, but I must do this. Otherwise, i will be in mourning for our house until the day I die."

The Premier sighed. "Very well... I can see there is no chance of changing your mind. I have reviewed the laws concerning this situation, and I have found them adequate... therefore, neither I nor the High Order will try to block your decision."

A sickened joy seemed to pass over the girl. "Thank you, My Premier. I trust you will make the necessary anouncements for me? Public speaking is still not a great area for me."

"Of course, my Lady. It will be done. I wish you great luck with this endeavor, and I will be in contact with you soon, I am sure."

With that, the girl got up, and the two bowed to each other. She turned and walked out of the Premier's office.


<Public Announcement>
Official Statement of the Voltarum High Order
As of today, at noon, The House of Vektori is no more. Lady
Vektori is leaving the country, and with no male heir, the house
is now laid to rest in our history books. As is custom, all assets
of the house will be inherited by the servants of the house, controlled
by a member of the First House of Jassan. Well wishes to the Lady
Vektori may call on her until this evening.

With Great respect,
Premier Xerco Longbottom
Son of the 3rd House of the Voltarum



To: The Grand Vizier, Vastiva
Fr: Premier Xerco Longbottom, The Voltarum

Greetings from your neighbors. I write to you on behalf of the
Lady Neira Vektori, a Voltaru noble who wishes to be considered
for the Sultan's Harem. The Lady is the former head of the 2nd
House of the Voltaru, an ancient and respected noble family. 2
years ago, her parents were killed in an accident, and with no male
heirs, the family has come to an end.

You might wonder why I am writing this to you. The simple reason
is that several things must be made clear. One: If she is rejected,
there will be many people in my country who will not be happy with
that decision. So I implore you, if there is any inkling of this, please
tell me as soon as possible. Two: The Lady Vektori is 12 years old.
I have read your application, and I see no laws prohibiting this. In
addition, no Voltaru Law can stop a Lady of a noble house from making
her own decisions in this way, regardless of her age.

The Lady awaits your response.

Also, given the recent, um, bear problems our region has had, you
will no doubt mind if she is delivered to you by plane, rather than
by ground transportation.

With Great respect,
Premier Xerco Longbottom

Highly Encrypted message(For recipients eyes only)

From: Welder
To: Establisher

The test has been comleted. The data is attatched to this e-mail. Recommended course of action as of now.

E-mail from Mother Mirrim, Abbess of Findhorn, to Grand Vizier Raahmid Javani:Glad to hear our thoroughbred filly will not become a brood mare. Currently stabled at Airport Hotel, Triilier, Telidia, Tel 04 02 794963, ext 47, awaiting transport.

E-mail from Myfanwy Mhairi ap Hwyl to Mother Mirrim:As you asked, letting you know I've arrived safely. The hotel's number is 04 02 794963 and I'm in Room 47.

E-mail from Mother Mirrim to Myfanwy:Tks, Miff. No need to worry abt kids; apparently that's not what they want. Also, re our chat: I'm sending a lady named Dicey Riley to entertain you till the Vastivans pick you up.

OOC: A follow up to make sure there is someone specific to insult ;-) Just read your tele more clearly, hopes this helps...

The Ministry of Commerce was situated on a high slope on the North end of the city of Ohm. Of the 12 Ministries headquartered in the city, the Commerce Building was by far the most ornate and extravagant - something the people of Ohm decided would speak for itself.

While the building itself gave its eternal showing of a calm and superior air, the office of the High Minister of Commerce was not so tranquil.

**

"After all I have done for her, all the help and advice I have given her in the last 2 years... and she repays me with this. I have been a second mother to her."

Xanaphia Jassan, High Minister of Commerce, and Lady of the 1st House of the Voltarum, crumbled up the public announcement she had just read and threw it at her bumbling secretary, Gretchen. Xanaphia continued her outrage as Gretchen went to pick it up and put in the recycling bin.

"Oh, and don't you know Gretchen, don't you just know The House of Jassan will pick me to oversee the final business with her house.... believe me Gretchen, that is something I am just going to LOVE to do..."

Gretchen sat there, as usual ignoring the intense sarcasm coming from the Minister. She decided to venture a response, otherwise, this might last for some time. She didn't get far. "...you never know Minister, maybe this is the best for her..."

"For her? What about her house? What about the Voltaru? When the Premier told me what she had decided I didn't believe him... until now... until this announcement..."

The two sat in silence for some time. Xanaphia seemed to calm down, thinking to herself very intently.

"I am sorry Gretchen. I regret my societal upbringing is hard to shake sometimes. As a Lady of the First house, it is my duty to not just help protect the lesser houses, but to protect their kin. And right now, Neira needs my good wishes, rather than my ill will."

"I agree with you there, Minister."

Xanaphia's face grew shallow. "I believe more than anything, my anger is more the fear I have... the fear that she will be rejected, and as a result have no where to turn to. Leaving her house like this... she might as well have given up her citizenship forever... "

"Vastiva is a close ally. Antarctican blood runs within both of our people. I doubt they will reject her, even given her age."

"They better not...it would insult every noble in this country.. let alone strain our political and commerical ties."

The two women sat, Xanaphia again in thought. "Gretchen, what is the current export cost and volume of Voltaru cheese to Vastiva?"

She didn't need to look that up. "1.5 volts per pound per 500 lb barrel. Those Vastivians and their cheese... I think last year's total was nearly one hundred thousand barrels."

"Just as I thought. Send a memo to Vastiva... 'Thanks to various developments in manufacturing and a good year of weather, Voltaru Cheese's export price to Vastiva is set to drop to 1.35 Volts per pound per barrel.' I want it signed with the Ministry of Commerce and my house seal." She paused, as her secretary continued writing.

"Gretchen, I don't want this sent until after Neira leaves for that blasted country. I will see to the red tape of the change in price. Lets hope they know a threat when they see it."

Xerco will have my head for this, she thought.

OOC: Now, if everyone in transit would give me a moment or three, I'll be catching all the other elements up. More posts coming tonight, along with an update of the summary thread.

IC:

The inside of the ‘bus’ is plush in an economical sense. The seats are covered in thick polar-bear fur; the glass is treated and polarized to take advantage of extreme low-light conditions – what can be seen of the base are some igloo-like structures, a few troopers standing around the ‘bus’, and what looks like a boxy vehicle facing the other direction.

In a few moments, the ‘bus’ is moving: up front, the driver merrily sings something in French. Barr and the woman in white smile and watch for a bit.

The lights aboard the bus dim somewhat.

“If you are interested in sightseeing later, that too can be arranged. For now, by special request” – he addresses a bit of empty air with that – “we are headed towards our maglev transit center at the edge of the base. That should take no more then an hour to reach, perhaps two, but no more then that. From there, you shall be guided to the Palace proper in perhaps a further… ten minutes?”

***

Elsewhere, still ensconced in his office as he had been for days, Raahmid stretched. A glance at the clock told him he hadn’t moved for hours.

“Drayaa! Are there more priorities for today?”
The woman rose swiftly from the couch nearby and stood in front of Raahmid’s desk. “One, my Vizier. From Voltarium. It involves a request by…”
The Grand Vizier idly waved his hand. “Accept it. Our regional allies are our allies. If we are willing to accept troops in our bases from our NATO allies, we can accept an ugly daughter from a regional ally.”
“My Vizier, she is not ugly… quite pretty, according to her photo, perhaps one day beautiful…”
“Not ugly? Well that would be a nice change from some of these”. A hand waved over his desk; he rose and stretched. “What is the count?”
“Yes, my Vizier.” She consulted her M-TCOD. “Our office has processed approximately seven hundred and twenty two thousand applications. Of which, my Vizier, you have found one hundred and ninety one to be acceptable. One ninety two if you accept the application from the Voltarium, which, though she is indeed the head of a house…”
“Head of a House of Voltarium? Excellent! Do write something pleasant and send it. Send a plane, make it official. Might even have a band to bring her in, would be nice to give her - and us - a nice photo op. Never hurts to play up the press, particularly when dealing with an interregional - no, International - event such as this."
“Yes, my Vizier, but…”
“Anything else can wait, Drayaa.” He tapped his desk, shutting down his computer system. “It’s something you might have to learn, and quickly. There are few problems which cannot be put off until tomorrow.”
“Yes, my Vizier, but…”
“Drayaa,” his voice took on a bit of a patronizing ring, “you have your instructions and I have not seen my bed in a week. I do plan to rectify this situation. If you will notice from the days reports, the Voltarium is about to lower their price on cheese. You will note the words about to in that sentence - which mean, plainly might but have not as yet. We will therefore do nothing which upsets them. Do I make myself absolutely clear?”
She nodded, a frown still on her face. “Yes, my Vizier.”
“Good, Drayaa. You have the makings of a good Vizier.” He strode around the desk towards the door. “Do lock up before you go.”
“Yes, my Vizier.” She nodded to his receeding back. She shook her head, looking again at her M-TCOD and the application it had processed – and the red flags still blinking.


Ab-shalom and greetings.

It is my most pleasant duty to accept your application for candidacy for the harem of Sultan Sinjin Lefkowitz al-Din. Given your age, it is necessary to discuss some of our customs beforehand...

***

High above Htrae Miseria, the 74SL bearing the Sultan back to his ancestral home began the first leg of it's long flight, two F-137 Firebats in close escort - but ignored by both pilot and passengers.

Sinjin reclined into the plush seating; it had been a much needed break, a true vacation from reality. And in a warm place he mused absently. What more could one ask?

For a time he watched the sky – the stars above, the clouds below. And when this no longer took his fancy, he looked over at Francesca’s already slumbering form. Pleasant company, certainly – particularly this weekend, when it was he and her and no interruptions, no guards, no pretentions, in a place he was little more then a guest, and she a guest with him. A good memory of times shared a smile played on his lips as he resettled on the seat. As sleep claimed him, he was considering the propriety of converting the harem into additional closet space.

The ‘bus’ halted within an enclosed drop off for the public maglev – twelve armored and heavily armed VAS troopers waited for them, their masks the opaque visored form rather then the clear ones given to the candidates.

The driver waits until the enclosures seals are in place, and hot steam is pumped through the room – with no apparent effect on the troopers. Barr makes his way forward, and talks to one of the troops rapidly in what sounds much like a Spanish cow being run over by a Russian truck.

He climbs easily back in. “Candidates, your conveyance is within, and I am assured the way has been cleared and is monitored. If you would be so kind as to step this way, Risaldar Ferris and his men will see to any remaining baggage, and you shall be off for your last leg of this part of your journey.

“Sadly, I shall be leaving you here – though, of course, I do hope many if not all of you will see fit to visit us of Nassanuella on occasion.” He smiles and gives a long bow, touching heart, lips, and forehead as he does.

The woman in white says nothing, remains seated.

The small party is lead through the main terminal – quite empty, and extraordinarily clean and taken care of - to an elevator, hidden behind a façade. This, once loaded with luggage and passengers, drops a single level. Upon exiting, they are within a subterranean subway station. A red carpet leads the way from the elevator to the waiting car, the underside of which cannot be seen – the tracks swim in a chilling fog.

Three women stand there. Two – those flanking – wear simple green robes, green visors covering their face, green helmets envelop their heads. Both also wear scimitars on one side, FNP90 submachine guns on the other.

The central figure, however, wears a loose fitting burnoose, at first appearing to be of deep blue cloth richly embroidered with silver runes and patterns; but as she moves the inside and lining became more in evidence as fur and leather cunningly worked to allow full freedom of movement with little availability of the wearer to the elements. Her boots are decorated with a double strand of silver thread woven into patterns mimicking those on the burnoose; a double looping anklet of small silver coins and runestones adorns her left boot. Topping the ensemble off, a blue-white headcloth with silver ribbon entwined within and without.

Wordlessly, she smiles, then with her right hand touches her forehead, lips, heart, then spreads her hand as she gives a courteous bow.

“Ab-shalom, and greetings, candidates. I am Drayaa Kiilgalen, deputy to the Grand Vizier. I welcome you to Vastiva in the name of our Sultan. My apologies for the absence of our Grand Vizier, but pressing business kept him elsewhere.”

She gestures at the open doors of the silvery projectile before them.

“After you?”.

Her two guards watch, keeping any but the candidates themselves – and Sensei Ueshiba – out of and away from the train.

The car is obviously meant to transport in style, but transportation is its main goal. Once the party is onboard, seated, and belted – “Apologies, but necessary” - into the plushly comfortable seats, the doors hiss shut and the train accelerates, at first slowly, then exponentially.

Drayaa smiles and shrugs when the sudden burst of speed strikes, pushing everyone into the deep plush from their hindquarters to headrests. “Supercold, supermagnets, bullet train. It seemed logical when we put this one to common use twenty years ago. There is much you can do when unencumbered by war or great international concerns. Still, our interests with our ally, Sharina, have given us some increases in methodology we would not have otherwise conceived of as quickly…”

She continues her chatter in much the same manner as the silver bullet flies through the length of tunnel, achieving its cruising speed – “Six hundred and thirty kilometers per hour, would you believe it possible?” Drayaa adds gaily – before blasting into the inky darkness of Winter in Vastiva.

A glance out of the treated windows shows very little, even in the dim internal lighting – though it is obvious from what can be seen, the maglev is traveling some twenty meters or so above the ground.

“Worried about someone blowing the track? How colloquial! And no, that is not a concern. It is impossible for these sections of track to be obliterated - You see… ah, wait, but we are arriving.”

The pull of deceleration is easily tolerated – the train dives again into a tunnel, this one lit in green rings, and is soon far beneath the ground. It rounds a curve, and slides to a halt.

Where the first station was modern, this one is nearly a step back in time. Red stone is dominant, but brass designs and inlays are evident in the tiles on the floor, the facings of stone, and even the subtle light sources above. The whole nearly glows with impressions of flames, an impression not reduced in the least by the two guards in what could best be described as Mongol armor standing by the only evident exit – a set of red stone stairs leading upwards.

Drayaa unbelts herself and steps lightly out of the train. “Welcome again, candidates. You are within the Palace of Sultan Sinjin Lefkowitz al-Din. This entrance is known by very few, and used by even fewer. You may consider it an honor to be allowed their usage.” She smiles again, gives a small shrug as Zukie passes her. “Perhaps you may not. We consider it so, nonetheless.”

At the top, a second set of guards closes red wooden doors over the rough hewn stairs, and a second illusion is given; that of a tented hallway. Silk drapes from all around, embracing each in the illusion of being in a tent. Chandeliers hanging from each apex give gentle illumination. Doors are evident through silken arches at several points along the hallway – with double doors at both ends. The pair at the southern end are guarded by another pair of the green-robes, similarly attired and armed.

Drayaa bows to Sensei Ueshiba. “With your kind permission, we ask you to choose any chamber you see on either side save those marked with brass plates. The far door leads to a variety of entertainments, normally reserved for diplomats within our nations, and a communications room – we apologize, but it is quite impossible to transmit or receive anything from without the Palace while inside. And it is absolutely impossible for any male to enter the Harem, save the Sultan himself”. She snaps her fingers, and two house servants in white and silver dash over and bow to the Sensei.
“They will see to any need you have, Sensei, you have but to ask. We are entirely at your service.”

She performs gives a long bow to the Sensei, touching heart, lips, and forehead, then turns to the candidates. “If you would follow me?”

As she walks towards the guarded double doors, the guards open them – and they are escorted into an empty gray stone room beyond. “This may not seem like much at the moment, but it is one of our Sultan’s dining rooms, and is oft used to entertain guests of quality. Through there are some of the kitchens and apartments and other areas – pardon, I speak too much sometimes of things that do not matter.”

A few short halls, a turn or three, and she stands in front of a pair of purple doors, these too guarded by two green-robed guards, armed as those before – but their robes are drawn almost taught across their upper body, proclaiming their femininity.

She steps forward, and pulls the doors open.

Following their 'guide' (Kilgallen), Engred noticed a definite change here-the sense of the palace was more purposeful and directed than she'd sensed at the Military base. This stood in stark contrast to what one might expect...
She examined the brass and brick of the station in more detail as she walked, but could not quite grasp what was happening...
Her confusion and focus caused her to bump into someone else-by tripping on the step up.
"Sorry." she stammered automatically.

what is it she was still intent on the layout of the place.
There was something definitely here that almost locked like vise-grips on her attention.

“With your kind permission, we ask you to choose any chamber you see on either side save those marked with brass plates. The far door leads to a variety of entertainments, normally reserved for diplomats within our nations, and a communications room – we apologize, but it is quite impossible to transmit or receive anything from without the Palace while inside. And it is absolutely impossible for any male to enter the Harem, save the Sultan himself”.

Engred percieved that bit, and...just followed her gut.



In her semi-trance state, she just seemed oblivious-Engred was still trying to sort out what that focused sensation was. It pulled her in a fairly orderly and systematic fashion thorughout the Harem's passages-like a minnow in a stream-both swimming, and being swept along on a current only she seemed to percieve.

Eventually, the current carried her to...

“And this is the Harem of Sultan Sinjin Lefkowitz al-Din.”

To say the room beyond is huge is to engage in understatement: it dwarfs the imagination both in stature and luxury.

Centrally, a fountain of nymphs at play cascades water into a pool of rather sedate koi; tiled marble, inlayed with the Sultan’s crest in platinum and gold, shines up from every floor. What walls are not covered in fine silk or brocade are adorned with paintings, abstracts, bas-reliefs, and fine metalworks on filigreed pedestals.

Fifty-eight doorways circle the room; forty-one are edged in silver, ten in gold scrollwork. Another two are outlined in blue, two in green, two in pink – and, of course, the doorway you stand at is painted in the richest purple imaginable.

After each third doorway – save this one, which is framed on both sides – stands a pillar quite unlike any seen before. Rather then stone, or steel, or paint or wood, each pillar is its own window onto a part of Vastiva or her colonies, the colors vivid, the movement within entrancing.

‘Doorway’ because, quite simply, the only door within the entire area is within the purple framework you stand within – all others are separated by silk draperies, their color identical to the doorway they fill. Very few have anything approaching opacity; most are, at best, translucent.

A glance upwards shows the room is lit by “lamps” of cunning design. At first look, they appear to be flickering tapers, draining some unseen space of oil – but, in truth, their cool illumination is that of waves of LEDs and subtle trickery.

But these, all these, are not the rooms most striking feature – nor are the several statuary, the gaming tables, the borders of scrimshaw, the ornate rugs, the plush and overstuffed couches, the comfortable chairs.

No, by far the most striking feature of the room is the gaggle of women within: some sit on couches, some play at cards or other games, some talk back and forth, some argue, some weep. Them, and the great number of traveler’s beds about the room, some open, some closed, and some spread about.

The doors close behind you.

“These are some of the rest of the candidates. A few have decided to… object to the hospitality of our Sultan. As such, they have rooms within the Burj Singinkatu – our best hotel. As, of course, any of you are welcome to do.”

She smiles and gestures to the room. “All told, there are one hundred and thirty candidates here. An additional thirty are… at the hotel.” She smiles a moment, stilling herself. “All Vastivan candidates are not allowed here until the selection is completed, by tradition. And there are two who required special consideration, and are quartered elsewhere.”

“How many total are…?”
“Ah, all told, at last assessment, there were one hundred and ninety… two accepted candidacies.” Her smile reapplies itself. “As none of you holds the honor as of yet of being either Kadai or Dalai, or … or Odalai” – and she laughs a bit at this last one – “nor have you accepted a position of Iqdai, you are forbidden to use or enter the rooms framed in silver or gold. All else this room holds is open to you, for your use and amusement.”

She looks at all of you. “Would any of you prefer to stay at the Burj Singinkatu? I assure you, it is not far from here, and most comfortable – and far less... crowded?”

~Gardemeister Tower, this is VAL 001, inbound ETA six hours. Advise.~

~Copy, VAL 001, you are on scope. Escort ETA two minutes thirty seconds. Please observe the outer markers and home on transponder frequency J two six. Sundown conditions are in effect. Current weather, temperature minus six-zero, wind three five knots from course two-nine-five by central marker.~

~ Roger, Tower. Next contact two minutes. ~

~ Copy, VAL 001. Please be advised, members of the press are present. Please advise. ~

~ Copy, Tower, response at next contact. ~


Liquid soap flowed easily into lavender scented bubbles, filling the double basin; for just a moment, Sinjin entertained a fantasy of going clean shaven for a month, a gallivant on a beach where no one knew of his name, of his title, of his responsibilities.

You choose the burden, you carry it, he reminded himself. And you are always free to put it down. He considered the beard again. A small enough price to pay.

His hands dried, he stepped out to a bowing stewardess. “My Sultan, if a word this one may?”
“Of course.”
She did not raise her eyes. “My Sultan, Gardemeister informs us there will be members of the world press waiting.”
Sinjin gave a nod she didn’t and couldn’t see. “The last time I was out of my country was for the funeral of Crown Prince Cessar of Hamptonshire. I see no reason not to entertain a few questions as to my enjoyment of Htrae Miseria’s hospitality.”
“Yes, my Sultan. Might this one inform the pilot so?”
“Of course.” He waved his hand low enough for her to see, watched her stride quickly down the aisle towards the cockpit.

Francesca slid behind him. “You know, she is yours for a word…”

He started, then laughed. “Indeed. But you know as well as I it will not be given.”

“Rejection is the greatest aphrodisiac,” she riposted.

“And all these years I had thought it was power.”

She laughed and looked sadly at him. “Please, my Sultan… Sinjin. There is one thing about you, one I thing that brings me fear. It is not the work you have set before you – it would not matter if you were simply an idealist trotting out ideas, someone who became different to be different, as a stunt, a statement, or – or just to draw attention to himself. If you did that, if you were any of those, I would not worry. Our land has been filled with such people, particularly since the Soviet arrived, and even after they departed.”

He began to answer, she closed her eyes and continued quickly. “It’s a smart racket, to amuse the masses. If that were all you were doing, I would not worry. I might not have shared your bed again, but I would not worry either.

“But, Sinjin… You see something no one else can – maybe because they aren’t looking, maybe because it isn’t there. And you love your work – Allah help you, you love it! And that, that is the curse. It’s the brand on your forehead for all to see. You are not an idealist, you are a visionary. The world loves idealists, they are mostly harmless, they entertain, they go away. But you, Sinjin, to the world you are dangerous. You are the sort which makes things happen. And you love it, and the crowds love you, and … oh, my Sultan, please forgive the ramblings of an old woman, but there are few old visionaries in the history of the world.”

She lowered her head so he would not see the tears she fought back; they came forth anyway as he lifted her chin to look deeply into her eyes.

“Dalal, you are a passionate woman. It was those passions which showed me you were meant for greater things, and it is those passions by which I know you are forever among my most honest councilors. It is why I summoned you for this vacation, and it will be why I shall listen to you in days to come.”

“Consider, the nation which called me to lead it – then consider what stands now. Our bank dwarfs the economies of most nations; our income from our concerns in Vizion, Allanea, Sisu Pangea and Sisu Arshu – from Jamaica Reborn and our African holdings and our business ventures with our trade partners there. Even what little trade leaks from the Iroquois Nations, from the Mayans, Aztec League, Free Incan People – any of these surpass the abilities of most nations upon this planet.

“Dalal, we have gone from a nation with a problem of too little money, to one with a problem of too much money. We are certainly in a Golden Age of unprecedented wealth and power – and we most certainly have you to thank for that in great part.”

She tried to turn away, he held her chin just so. “I do not speak in fabrications, you will not show modesty to hide from truth. Our dealings with IDF brought us shipwrights – those with British Morocco gave us markets. You were instrumental in both. And you are well aware of what the HSI has brought us under you, which it could not under other hands.

“I well know how much history you studied – I know you know of Rome and her fall, of the fall of the Soviet, of the Mandarins. And I know you know the root causes of each.” He let her chin go. “We are now in a time of fantastic growth – and of equal danger. If we allow the corruption and infamy, the unrighteousness and backwards thinking which doomed those once-great civilizations, we shall follow in their footsteps.

“And I would rather my legacy be the stars themselves.”

She nodded again, kept her eyes facing him. “Yes, my Sultan. If you would please allow an old woman a boon, and let her keep worrying about you?”

This received a short laugh. “Ahh, I knew there was a reason you were my favorite. Of course, you may always cluck over me, mother hen. And I may always consider your counsel.”

Medea looked at the room, and the sheer volume of women occupying it. "I believe I will remain, if that is acceptable. This reminds me of my days in the army..." The Kriovalian trailed off, biting back a part of her history that was best kept concealed for the time being. The fact of the matter was that Medea had once been trained as an assassin, though she had never practiced the art in the field. She had often wondered how the notice of Vastiva's offer had arrived on her doorstep, and even in the confines of the Sultan's harem, she felt the eyes of Krioval on her. Sinjin and Raijin. She laughed despite her subtle paranoia. At least the one I'm going for this time can return the affections of a woman. With that thought, Medea continued her scan of the chamber. There were alliances to make...and destroy.

The flow stopped here-in a massive eddy of purposes and desires, like a storm of silent force.

Engred dropped her bag, and sat down on it. she was blinking-because so many of the others seemed to be twos, one face smiling and talking, the other glaring and scheming.

It was very, very, annoying trying to decide between which face was the one actually being presented.

Hotel, or here? she asked silently.

something told her here would be, in spite of the crowded confusion, better than the Hotel-safer.

"Here it is..." she muttered.

Medea saw Engred, and rather than sulk at the sheer number of women vying for the position in the harem, she walked over to the other woman. "Yo. You stayin' 'round for a while?" Lowering her voice into a conspiratorial whisper, she added, "I think the hotel's a bad idea." Returning to her normal voice, she continued, "Besides, we need to see who we're up against!"

Medea saw Engred, and rather than sulk at the sheer number of women vying for the position in the harem, she walked over to the other woman. "Yo. You stayin' 'round for a while?" Lowering her voice into a conspiratorial whisper, she added, "I think the hotel's a bad idea." Returning to her normal voice, she continued, "Besides, we need to see who we're up against!"
Engred nodded, her expression was cloudy for a moment-as if she were trying to sort something very confusing out. Then, she said, "Yeah, I think you're right... pull up a cushion." she unlatched her carryon, and laid out a set of Matra* cards.

"Does it seem odd? we've been invited to apply for the Harem,but the Sultan is nowhere to be found..?" Engred speculated quietly as she shuffled.


[*Matra is a game similar to Poker. Denominations are different, being derived from a different heraldry, and instead of Ace-king-queen-jack for the face cards, it's Marshall, Fortress, Captain, Sargeant. The Joker is replaced by "The Almighty". Heraldry is: Swords, Rings, Staves, and cups. the Game is local to Cadillac-gage, and can be played "Almighty's Style" with only one player, in a manner similar to Solitaire.)

Encrypted e-mail
From: Architect
To: Hammer

In order to pick the right cornerstone, you must know everything about each candidate.

A black towncar pulled onto the private runway of Ohm International Airport. There, waiting for its occupants, was a jet, guarded by a dozen unmarked security men... members of the Guard, the Premier's personal security force.
She has arrived sir. Awaiting orders.
Xerco responded to his radio,"I will be right down, Lieutenant."

The rear door of the town car opened, and the servant women from the previous night stepped out, now dressed in a formal military-type uniform. She discretely scanned the area, and then motioned for the rest of the car to empty. Timidly, Lady Vektori emerged, followed by someone who made Xerco's blood pressure double... Minister Jassan. They started to walk toward the plane, where Xerco intercepted them.

"Lady Vektori, it is a pleasure to be here to see you off. You must know that all of the Voltarum is losing something today..."

Neira looked up, and only then did Xerco realize the girl had been crying, and looked like she hadn't slept in days. "Thank you, my Premier. You do not know how I wish I knew of another path I could take. But now that I have made my decision, I plan to see it come to be."

The Minister spoke up. "We have no doubt of that, my Lady. Never doubt your noble blood... it will give you the strength to accomplish this goal you have set upon yourself."

Xerco eyed the Minister. "Very well, you should be off. I suggest you review the message from Vastiva... it includes the customs that you must follow when you arrive. You will be arriving late, so they will probably expect you to be up to date on their procedure." Neira nodded in response.

"I have contacted Vastiva and told them of your departure. They will radio the pilot with a landing destination when you get in the air. Two of our fighters will escort you out of Voltaru airspace. I have assigned two of my guards to accompany you on the plane...."

"Thank you, Premier, but that won't be necessary. Ka'tal here has stayed on and agreed to come with me as my escort." The servant women gave a slight nod to the Premier. Xerco hid a shudder... he now recognized the uniform Ka'tal wore.

"Very well my lady. On behalf of myself, the entire High Order, and the House of Longbottom, I bid thee farwell. May the saddest day of your future be no worse than the happiest day of your past."

Neira gave a slight smile, and gave up socialite decorum enough to hug both Xanaphia and Xerco before she bordered the plane, Ka'tal following closely behind.
**
The plane took off, as the Minister and the Premier watched from the control tower. Xerco didn't take his eyes off the plane.
"Lady Jassan, was that uniform what I think it was?"
Xanaphia didn't hesitate. "Yes Premier."
"House guards were abandoned decades ago. Their... practices... deemed too barbaric in the modern world."
"Nevertheless, Premier, several of the higher houses keep them, discreetly. You have been in Ohm too long... your own house has two."
The Premier studied her for a long time. "My brother runs our house how he sees fit, so I do not judge him on this. What I am concerned about is the protection of Lady Neira."
"With Ka'tal on board, I would be more concerned about the pilot if they make a course error..."
"Neira will be on her own once they arrive. I hope she can handle herself."
"I have no doubt, Premier. I gave her some advise before we got here."
"Hrm, maybe I should be worried about the Vastivians then..." the Premier smiled.

From: Zatarack Foreign Affairs office:

Lady Vivian has arrived in Vastiva.

Engred nodded, her expression was cloudy for a moment-as if she were trying to sort something very confusing out. Then, she said, "Yeah, I think you're right... pull up a cushion." she unlatched her carryon, and laid out a set of Matra* cards.

"Does it seem odd? we've been invited to apply for the Harem,but the Sultan is nowhere to be found..?" Engred speculated quietly as she shuffled.


[*Matra is a game similar to Poker. Denominations are different, being derived from a different heraldry, and instead of Ace-king-queen-jack for the face cards, it's Marshall, Fortress, Captain, Sargeant. The Joker is replaced by "The Almighty". Heraldry is: Swords, Rings, Staves, and cups. the Game is local to Cadillac-gage, and can be played "Almighty's Style" with only one player, in a manner similar to Solitaire.)

Medea looked at the cards in wonder. "In Krioval, there are some who use similar cards for divination. I had always wanted to do that, but sadly, most don't have the gift, myself included." She paused. "The Sultan? I'd expect he travels somewhat often, if he's anything like Raijin...Commander Dekker, that is. The Commander spends almost half of his time away, it seems, but luckily for him, he can at least dimension shift back home from those far-flung planets."

Medea looked at the cards in wonder. "In Krioval, there are some who use similar cards for divination. I had always wanted to do that, but sadly, most don't have the gift, myself included." She paused. "The Sultan? I'd expect he travels somewhat often, if he's anything like Raijin...Commander Dekker, that is. The Commander spends almost half of his time away, it seems, but luckily for him, he can at least dimension shift back home from those far-flung planets."

Engred smiled, "No magic in the cards, I'm afraid, it's just a game. The object is to defeat your opponent through either having the superior hand, or making them believe you do through 'bluffing'. Played alone, of course, you can't do that-you have to randomly achieve a complete pattern of alternating Green and gold suits in numerical and heirarchical order." she shuffled the deck some more, "Of course, you want to get as far as you can before the Almighty shows up."

Zukie tilted her head, her face simply owned by a look of utter surprise. Every which way she looked, there were women. Not a single male in sight. "Mother of Cori... One hundred and ninty-two applicants. Wow." Letting out a low, shrill whistle, her tail flicking back and forth easily, calmly. After the inital shock of the hseer numbers, she finally settled into a comfortable look of assured success. After all, none of them can provide the business oppertunities Gowa Industries can. "I'll stay here as well. I've never had to stay one minute in a hotel, and I don't plan on starting now."

Quickly glancing around for the women she had meet at the military base, she spots two playing a game of what looked like Poker. "Kera, come."

"Yes Maiden." Kera spoke as she followed Zukie, whom found a nice spot to plant a comfortable coushin besides the two. Kera sits cross-legged behind her.

"Hi, Engred and... I don't think I caught your name..." She greets the woman who had mistook her for something else at the base, then the other, whom's name she didn't know yet. "By the by, I'm Zukie Irawata. And this is Kera Light."

Kera nods slowly to the two, but otherwise keeps quiet.

"Medea Lakat." She tried not to laugh as she added, "You don't remember me from our tea party earlier? Oh well. How do you think the Sultan will do it? Legend has it that leaders used to *axe* harem candidates quite early if they didn't show promise." The Kriovalian woman made a gesture to indicate that the word 'axe' was meant literally. "Not that it matters even if he does. We're all in, of course."

A ball of yarn flies across the room, beaning Zukie directly on top of her head.
General laughter erupts out of the crowd of eight or ten women it came from - but mostly from an amazonian redhead, who keeps watching Zukie.

"Nice shot, Ariel!"
"Yeah! Next time, we should get some squeeky toys. Do you think the kitty plays with squeeky toys?"
"Awww, wookums... is she gonna cwy? Awwww, I tink we hurt the pussy cat's pride."
"Feh, her pride will get stomped when she learns there's no litterbox."

More general laughter.

A ball of yarn flies across the room, beaning Zukie directly on top of her head.
General laughter erupts out of the crowd of eight or ten women it came from - but mostly from an amazonian redhead, who keeps watching Zukie.

"Nice shot, Ariel!"
"Yeah! Next time, we should get some squeeky toys. Do you think the kitty plays with squeeky toys?"
"Awww, wookums... is she gonna cwy? Awwww, I tink we hurt the pussy cat's pride."
"Feh, her pride will get stomped when she learns there's no litterbox."

More general laughter.

"Hey!" Medea stood abruptly. "I'd watch what flies in this room there, princess, 'cause the next thing's liable to be my fist. It'd be a real shame if the Sultan only had a hundred ninety-one women to choose from, if you catch my meaning." Without another word, she resumed her position on the cushion, intent on playing cards.

Engred cast a pitying look at the redhead, and then met eyes with Medea and Zukie- "Children, as children, they obviously had neglectful and indulgent parents. if you beat her up, you're probably not going to make the positive impression you would like, and with only fifty slots possible, at two-hundered candidates,that's three-to-one against. Smart money doesn't invite the Almighty's attention..."
she snapped out three cards, "...remember, wild-cards in this game are bad news. They act as 'spoilers' in any combinations you manage to put together."

Engred was certainly unaware of how prophetic - and appropriate - her word were, as far from the harem...


VAL 001 performed a most admirable touchdown into Gardemeister, considering the crosswinds and zero visibility – ice patches were impossible on the heated runways. Still, the pilot met Sinjin at the door on his knees to beg forgiveness for the landing – to which Sinjin laughed kindly and told the pilot of landing his plane on the deck of a carrier, having forgotten to put down the landing gear. “As you have indeed outdone my poor ability, I see no fault to forgive.”

As they proceeded down the tramway, Francesca found a moment to ask “Was that story true?”

He favored her with a wink “If it were not, it most certainly shall be soon enough.”

At the end of the tramway, just beyond the open door, had been set a podium bedecked in purple. Two green robed guards stood like pillars to either side of the doorway, and Vastiva’s flag had been spread wide and true above.

Ah, home again, Sinjin smiled and nodded to several as flashbulbs popped and video cameras - or better - whirred their attention onto him.

Somewhat far away, the many pillars in the corners of the harem flickered, changing their view to that of the cameras now pointed at the Sultan, his face still aglow with a gentle smile as he waved to the many onlookers assembled before turning to the press. Only for a moment is there a glimpse of the airport's SWAT snipers on the upper balcony, watching for the smallest sign of trouble – then the camera sweeps the crowd, ending at the seated – and standing – reporters assembled before the podium, at a respectful distance. Francesca stands slightly behind him and to his right, aglow and radiant. Yet it is his presence which draws the eye most certainly, even before he speaks.

With a flourish, the Sultan of Vastiva gave the room a short bow, touching forehead, lips, heart, then spreading his hand wide in presentation before rising. From this, it became obvious who was Vastivan in the crowd – they bowed in return – and who was not.

Seventy-eight reporters, he thought to himself, Quite a turnout for such a short trip. Perhaps I should go out more often. I wonder if I have Nivia to thank for this… .

He clears his throat – the room instantly silenced.

“If I may,” he begins quietly, his voice sturdy but far from booming, “I should like to begin by thanking Htrae Miseria for their most warm hospitality this past week. If there was a fault to be found, it would be in our leaving far too soon to allow the enjoyment of all the delights that great nation had to offer to the fullest. Vastiva will indeed be seeking much warmer relations in the future.”

He paused, but instead of laughter, the reporters continued to watch him closely. The wolves are waiting for thrown meat? He chose one at random as a flashbulb popped. “Yes, you have a question?”

“Arvid Kaulec, Sausian Times. What is your reaction to the terrorist attacks?”

Attacks? “Vastiva does not deal with terrorists, save in the most direct means possible. We have no reason to alter this policy, particularly in view of recent events.”
“Will the escorts continue?”
“Of course, for as long as prudent.” He chose another.

“Carlos Arauz, Eye on Djambelandia. Have you decided to tighten gun laws in your nation?”
“Of course not. My people have every right to bear arms. Particularly against bears, I might add.”

“What of arms exports?”
“I see no reason they should not continue. Yes?”

The woman stood, shaking slightly. “What are your plans where the harem is concerned?”
Fifty thousand square feet of closet space, why? “I believe it would be indelicate to answer that question at this time.”

“So you are not favoring – or disfavoring – any of the candidates at this time?”

Sinjin’s smile grew a bit wider, even as the question echoed in his ears. “It would be indelicate, and rather impolite, to answer that at this time.”

From the crowd came “Do you have a complete set of the cards?”
“Most certainly,” he brushed that one away, filing it away for later - nodded to another reporter.

“Have you decided to allow men to apply this time, or are you still limiting the applications to women?”

Sinjin’s hand came up for a brief cough. “As this remains a most improper time to discuss such things…”

“Withdrawn, apologies.” There was a brief pause. “Do you believe Voltarium will lower their price per barrel on cheese?”
Finally, a halfway decent question. “We most certainly do hope so, as our relations with our regional trading partners have proven most beneficial to both sides in the past.”
”Would the recent arrival of Lady Neira Vektori have some influence on the price structure?”
“Many apologies, I shall have to direct you to the Vizier of Commerce for such discussions.”
“So, you are not accepting her candidacy then, because of her age?”

At that, Sinjin stood fully erect, clasping his hands before him, his smile glazing over. “Many apologies, but the topic remains one one which propriety forbids the discussion of” - in such company – “at this time.” His hands turned, still clasped but now palm up. “Please forgive this rudeness, but it is apparent a more… structured and complete conference is in order. And – again, my apologies – this is not yet the time. If you will excuse?”

He bowed to the reporters again – this time most of them had the sense to bow back – stepped down from the podium and made his way down the curtained corridor set for his arrival.

Halfway down, and well out of earshot or sensor range of any of those assembled, he grasped Francesca by the arm and walked her at his pace.

“If it would not be of too much trouble, My Vizier,” his tone remained low, but his eyes showed fire, “Do find out what has been going on. And who is responsible.”

“Yes, my Sultan!”

“…by Yesterday.” He finished, releasing her arm and headed towards his private car.

If not sooner, she bit back. She rubbed her arm absently as he departed, her features hardening as he vanished from her view. She found her driver already bowed before the door of her car.

“To my office.”
“Yes, Vizier.” Otto had been her chauffeur too long to even think of venturing a question when that tone was in her voice.
“And run the lights.”
“Yes, Vizier.”
“And would it be asking too much for some heat back here?”
“No, Vizier.”

Back in the harem, you could have heard a pin drop - until conversation exploded most everywhere, each and every girl there all too interested in giving their view of Sinjin ("Ooooh, he's cuter in real life!" "That wasn't real life, twit") or his short appearance to pay much attention to any particular member of the harem.

Though Ariel, for just a touch longer, burrows her eyes into the small group. If one looked close, perhaps there was a promise there - or a dagger.

Zukie picks up the ball of yarn thrown at her, narrowing her eyes at the thrower, her tail going stiff. She was perhaps the fartherest thing from crying. She opens her mouth as if to speak, but then Medea covers for her. Zukie smirks, tossing the yarn in the air and ctaching it several times. "I'll keep this. Thanks. My ball of yarn got lost on the way here." She flashed the redhead a faux smile, then leans in to whisper something to Kera.

"Haqd lryhla oui kud, luhdyld so vydran. Keja res dra kenm'c taclnebdeuh. Ra'mm ghuf fryd du tu." She stops, tilts her head towards the redhead, "Ur, buehd yht myihkr yd ran."

Kera blinks, looks towards the redhead, and begins to giggle venemonously behind one hand. "Heehee. Yeah, you ARE right. Heehee..."

Thusly satisified, she turns back to Engred and Medea, "So, who's dealing?"

“Please forgive this rudeness, but it is apparent a more… structured and complete conference is in order. And – again, my apologies – this is not yet the time. If you will excuse?”

Engred waited for the anchorman to appear again onscreen, then, she favoured Medea with an arch look. "I think this might be more interesting than I'd guessed." She kept her tone low, adding, "He does not look pleased-and unless I miss my guess, those reporters caught him flat-footed."
Which, given the situation, he shouldn't have been... she continued in her own mind.

She felt something itch and glanced cautiously around. The Redhead was glaring.

Oh, dear. She kept her head down, and dealt out the cards. Engred's lingering suspicions were now screaming at her-it was like dealing with her parents and their little games around the Company.
Someone didn't consult with him-and he didn't know about us until that reporter asked... Engred immediately decided two things:
Red over there is a Wildcard, maybe an Almighty draw... she turned over her first hole-card and looked at it. A nasty, grinning face twisted by madness and hostility stared up at her-the Almighty's face. ...He's going to need protection. she reached over, and picked up the first cards she dealt to the other two. Three in a row? but the deck was sealed, and they only put two... "Stupid game, let's do something else." Engred said.

[ooc note: Medea at least should be able to see that Engred's suddenly very worried-and the way she pulled the cards back into the deck should tip off Zukie that something's gone wrong.]

Zukie shrugs. "Sure." She tilts her head again, her tail back to swaying slowly in a very small back and forth motion. "Hmmm... Normally, I'd say let's go shopping, but... For some reason, I doubt we'll be doing much of that while we're here."

She holds up the ball of yarn the redhead had thrown at her. "What do you think about this color?" She prayed Engred had the intelligence to catch she wasn't talking about the yarn...

Zukie shrugs. "Sure." She tilts her head again, her tail back to swaying slowly in a very small back and forth motion. "Hmmm... Normally, I'd say let's go shopping, but... For some reason, I doubt we'll be doing much of that while we're here."

She holds up the ball of yarn the redhead had thrown at her. "What do you think about this color?" She prayed Engred had the intelligence to catch she wasn't talking about the yarn...

Engred glanced at it, and for a moment, saw a face there. "I don't like it." she blurted it out without thinking.

The entire ride to her office, Francesca fumed silently under a glacial mask of preternatural calm. It would have fooled anyone – except Otto, and he valued his career and his continued incarnation on this plane enough to say nothing of what he knew to look for.

Her entrance to the Department of Peace was calm, cool, and collected – she did not even use the private entrance, but came through the public one. See, nothing is wrong, just another day.

She walked past all the building’s security, all the guards, and even her secretary without a single glance, save the necessary short nodding bow.

It took her a moment further to compose herself properly, even as she arranged herself in her chair - It would not be right for staff to know too much of their superiors.

*Click* “Yes, Vizier?”
“Why was I not informed of these entries, or of the Harem being opened again? It would seem if my office is as efficient as it should be, someone in my staff would have sent word while I was away.”
“Many pardons, Vizier, but the Sultan left strict word he was not to be disturbed except for a great calamity...”
“I left no such word.”
“Vizier, you were included under the edict.”
She paused. “I see. Very well. Forward everything to my office. I wish to be caught up.”
“Yes, Vizier, right away.”

“Entry visa processed for…” That stopped her. She ran the list again. And again.
It was not at all odd for the list of visas to be rather long – though usually not in winter.

“Princess who? From where? Whose daughter? From where? And a shuttle clearance? Two? Three? Notification of travel from… ?”

NO NO NO NO NO! Fury and rage clashed on her features. NO! I have him, I have him, it’s empty, I retired her myself! She clawed a beanbag from the pile on the top of her desk and threw it across the room. It bounced against a picture of Sultan Vaada Kivaa al-Din (deceased) and landed on a rather large pile of beanbags.

She made a mental note to clean up that pile next time. Just for effect, she threw another beanbag, bashing the dead man’s face yet again – mindless of the room’s soundproofing.

The forms flowed over her screen. Entry visa for.. entry visa for… entry visa for…
Damn, how many candidates were there?

She needed more information, someone on the inside… How serious is this? Whose idea was this?

She needed information, and she needed it quickly. There was only one source for that sort of depth and speed – Nasiri Yassassin.

Nasiri Yassassin was not a person – unless people tended to live long past eight hundred years. According to official Vastivan records, Nasiri Yassassin had always been the head of the HSI, all the way back to the founding of Vastiva.

This was true, and false, and meaningless.

“Nasiri Yassassin” was nothing more then a pseudonym, a false name, a lie – but a lie with meaning, for that name in the halls of governance meant “the head of the HSI”…. Whomever that was.

It was the privilege of the Vizier of International Affairs to have contact with Nasiri whenever desired. Officially, the HSI was not under IA – they did, however, tend to work together now and again for mutual goals and ends.

Even now, she had no idea what Nasiri looked like, sounded like – but none of that mattered. Nasiri always delivered – if convinced it was worth their time.

Maybe not your time, spymaster, but most definitely worth mine. Another beanbag sailed through the air.

Bastard.

She waited until the downloads were complete, considered her office – and sealed it. It took only a moment for the entries to seal shut and the anti-bug programs to run. Her system now connected only to Nasiri’s – assuming he’d answer – and her office was impenetrable even to oxygen.

How, she didn’t know, but somehow Nasiri would know if these things had not been done – and would not answer.

She tapped the contact keys… and waited.

If anyone would know anything, it would be Nasiri. If anyone would know everything, it would be Nasiri.

She glared at the picture.

You won’t stop me, Old Man. If I have to slit a thousand throats… She stopped, sat back, considered. No, not a thousand. Only three. And I don’t even have to slit them, just… indispose them.

A plan started to form.

Nasiri still did not answer. But that was ok. She was planning for the future. Her future.

And the harem’s future. Or lack thereof, she added, offhandedly.

Engred paused a breath, then two, then, she stretched, and added, "I think our odds are one-in-four, but they could go down, I don't think the Sultan's the sort of man who'd let his harem empty if he, personally, intended to maintain it at the full, traditional fifty. Do you??"
Her voice was low enough that only Medea, Kera, and Zukie would hear in the heavy background of speculations and babble.
"I think the Reporters caught him off-guard, because one of his people went around behind his back and opened up the invite process, and he's going to be scrambling to deal with the fallout-which I suspect is the reason we're even here."
she arranged her things to help 'enclose' their little circle.
"It's politics-like dad's company, or the Faculty at the Uni, now, since the invite's been made, and all us gals have shown up-that leaves a bad problem for him...see, he can't keep his 'face' if his guests-and make no mistake, that's what we are-mind their manners post-dam-quick. Same hand, though, it's not something he's good with, so he's probably going to be quietly touchy-in-an-easy-to-offend way. On the gripping hand, whoever set this up doesn't like either him, or, us. We're 'tools', but that gives the four of us a lever to get through this alive."
Her experession was serious, and she met each of their eyes. "Whoever set this up, set you up, and set me up-whatever the motives, they're probably not for the best. Now I see two directions with this-one, they're out for the Sultan's pelt-He's the target, in which case, as soon as we've fulfilled the plan, every one of us is disposeable-I don't know about you, but being tossed out in the snow without a coat isn't my idea of a good time." She reached into her bag, and pulled out a chocolate bar. "Other side, whoever it is wants to start something with one or more of our countries... in which case, we become disposeable pretty damn quick. I see one way we get through this alive and unfrozen by now..." she broke up the candy, and offered it to each of them. "We find a way to keep on his good-side, and become inconvenient to dispose of. The only safe place in this game is at the Sultan's hand-at least that way if we go down, we're on the right side, and not just innocent victims of someone's internal power-grab."

..."Do you believe Voltarium will lower their price per barrel on cheese?”...
“Please forgive this rudeness, but it is apparent a more… structured and complete conference is in order. And – again, my apologies – this is not yet the time. If you will excuse?”...

The Premier stopped chewing his herring. Well that was odd. He jammed his hand on his intercom. Get me Jekiro at Channel 13.. and page Minister Jassan. The Premier continued to chew on his fish. Did that reported pronounce our name as Vol-tar-i-um? Hrm, maybe just a translation mistake...Or maybe form a country who undervalues geography...

***

Neira sat motionless in her seat, wrapped in a quilt that her mother had given her when she was 5. She had just seen the teleconference on the jet's TV, and really didn't know what to think of it. The first thing was fear - her name, HER full name no less, was mentioned... and the look in the Sultan's eyes... Xana had told her some secrets about men, particularly male leaders... Neira decided that whatever the Sultan thought, it wasn't good for her, or her future. And what was that about Voltaru cheese? She turned to her servant.

"What do you think about all that Ka'tal?"
"My Lady, my opinion does not matter." She turned, a stern face to the young child, yet knowing already the answer was not satisfactory. "But seeing that you asked for it, I will provide it. The Sultan has been kept in the dark. Either he does not know about the candidates for the new Harem, and you in particular, or he knows less than he would like. Either way, he is not happy about... and it means more is going on here than we know."
Neira half faked a frown. "Ka't don't you know, you are supposed to cheer me up?"
"Sorry my lady. Um, I do think he is rather handsome.... and well dressed."
Neira smiled and curled up in her seat. Ka'tal went back to scowling out the window. Some moments past in thoughtful silence.
Ding. "My Lady, this is your pilot. We are about to land in Vastiva at Nassanuella Air Base. The Vastivians have arranged for your transport from here to the capital. I regret the weather is not helping our landing, so please buckle your seatbelts, this may be a bumpy ride."
In more ways than one, Neira thought.

The plane landed with little difficulty, as all Voltaru pilots were used to the local weather patterns. Neira and Ka'tal disembarked, hoping that their Vastivian contacts were here to guide them...

Killik Jekiro could have sworn the Hallelueia was now being sung by every braincell in his head. The Sultan had just left the newsconference live in Vastiva... You know what this means Killik... Vektori has left the Voltarum to enter the Harem of the Sultan of Vastiva... at the age of 12... my god, can this story get any better?

His face contorted. Actually it could have... if we already knew this and were there to ask the Sultan more questions.

Still, this was the break he had been looking for. He ran to his office, and had his secretary book his best reporter a flight to Vastiva. The Voltarum's number one television network was goign to get a piece of this, ugly though it may be.

He was just about done briefing his head field reporter, Guy Smiley, when he got a page from the Capital.....

**
Jekiro was sweating into the telephone. "I assure you sir, we did not leak this to anyone. Wedidn't even know that she applied....I understand sir... Yes sir.... Yes I know she is only 12... but sir... No, that is not necessary sir. Of course.... It will be done sir.... Thank you sir."

He slammed down the phone. Maybe this wasn't a good day after all. He paged Guy to break the bad news to him... he would not be going to Vastiva after all. Dies Irae now echoed through Jekiro's head.
**
"A .15 volt decrease! That will cost us millions!" The Premier, now enjoying a piece of cherry pie, couldn't help spitting bits of it in disgust. Xanaphia Jassan maintained a safe distance.
"It had to be done Xerco. I could not let her be destroyed... it is my duty..."
"...It is your duty to run the Commerce of this country, Madam. Let us just hope this little charade of yours doesn't turn sour in our direction."

From: Welder
To: Establisher

Atttatched are information showing that the situation in Vastivia is far more "interesting" then first predicted...

Zukie blinks, putting one finger on her chin, striking a stereotypical 'cute girl' thinking pose. She spoke only loud enough so that only her 'group' could hear her. "I do recall the Sultan or someone from that TV interview right now mentioning something about cheese. I wonder what that was about..."

Zukie blinks, putting one finger on her chin, striking a stereotypical 'cute girl' thinking pose. She spoke only loud enough so that only her 'group' could hear her. "I do recall the Sultan or someone from that TV interview right now mentioning something about cheese. I wonder what that was about..."

Engred bit her lip, and said, "Remember how...ah...'cheesy' the food at the airbase was? Cheese is a major trade good in Vastiva-you don't think they get their average 8000 calories a day eating diet-stuff, right? Cheese, cream, milk...if someone was lactose intolerant, life in Vastiva would be absolute utter hell-on-earth. Now, if Cheese is a major staple-food, and, say, one of hte neighbouring countries is a cheese-dealer, like...oh...Voltarium for instance-they might have sent a candidate in hopes of getting an edge on the Vastivan market... not saying they did, but they might. Exports are big business on the International scale unless your country doesn't rely much on them, and food is big business-on account of everyone hasta eat, right?"

Several times during their conversation, the girls get to see the following routine. One of the many assembled walks up to the bellpull located either to the right or the left of the purple door – it doesn’t seem to make a difference which. After pulling, the light for the intercom – cleverly worked into a bas-relief sculpture on one side, and part of a technophillic mosaic on the other – turns on. In a few minutes, the purple doors open, and a white-and-silver liveried individual delivers something in a covered basket, or on a tray, or once or twice in bags. Always, the individual is female, and always there can be seen two to four of the green-robed guards outside.

This time, a brownette from Ariel’s group gathers up a basket, and looks into it. When she replaces the cover, she quickly glances at the small group – and grins – then makes for Ariel at a fast pace.

Medea turned to Engred as the cards were hurriedly put back in their box. "No magic, huh." She considered the matter of the Sultan and the reporters. "The dark outside seems appropriate - matches the inside in its way." That was as subtle as it got for the Kriovalian, and she hoped in light of the others' comments they would understand that she referred to the political situation more than the yarn incident. "It gets interesting fast now."

On the other side of the city of Sisu Vaari – the capital of Vastiva – another conversation was going on between two Viziers, somewhat related in ability, but most certainly rivals in power.

“Would you care for a bit more coffee?”
“No, thank you very much. I shouldn’t drink and…drive?”

They both laughed at the humor. It would be unacceptable not to.

Voyate Shumash ben Allen had moved his bulk from behind his desk to a side table in the general cafeteria, far more able to accommodate the wheelchair of Vizier Conrad Jessup. They often had lunches and talks together – Commerce was, after all, a department of Domestic Activities. And it always seemed far more… appropriate for the deputy of Domestic Affairs to make all the overtures.

The Vizier of Domestic Affairs himself always seemed so busy, so… distant from any goings on between the two. It worked well in their favor.

“As you may have already discovered, Voltarum will be lowering its cost per barrel of cheese this year. Perhaps the Sultan can be persuaded to make a far larger purchase, to take full advantage of the sale price?”
“It may happen. Though I am somewhat amazed at the cost.”
Voyate took another drink of cold cider. “A rather… small thing, considering.”

Another joint chuckle.

“It is rather amazing the sacrifices one makes on the altar of business.”
“And it is not our arm being twisted.”
“That too.”
“Try the caviar, it is rather excellent this time of year.”
Conrad put a touch on a wedge of cheddar. “You only mention it because you insisted we import from Toreador Rose this year.”
“But of course. Nothing like good Russian caviar.”
“True.” He ate a spoonful, considered, nodded. “ahh.”
“Krioval has sent a candidate.”
“Indeed? Is she pretty?”
“I am told, she is someone most men would stand up for.”
“It is hoped she will make exceptions in some cases.”
“Ah, my friend, I am sure you could stand just a little bit for her.”
“Perhaps, but could she stand a little bit of me?”

Another laugh passed between them.

“It would not be improper to wonder if she will, perhaps, accept a position of Iqdai. And we both seem to be doing very, very well this year.”
“Indeed.”
“Do you wonder if perhaps a few… contracts could be traded?”
“Stranger things have happened.”

The both concentrated on their meals as a waiter refreshed their drinks, added a large piece of Baked Alaska to the table near the Vizier of Commerce – and a snifter of brandy and fine cigar by the Deputy Vizier of Domestic Activities.

“You do not mind?”
“I have not minded before, I will not mind this time.”
“Perhaps I shall wait until later.”
“Perhaps.” He considered a forkful of Alaska. “VALOREC does very well this year.”
“Rather incredibly, I am told.”
“Indeed. It is amazing what turns up when one isn’t looking in the wrong places.”
“Indeed. Always good to know the right places beforehand.”
“Always.” He sucked the fork into his mouth. “Tasty.”

A bell rang – and both sat up as though shot through.

Within the Harem, a bell rang, a slow single note,

…followed by a second…


…then a third.

Then….


…silence.

Medea turned to Engred as the cards were hurriedly put back in their box. "No magic, huh." She considered the matter of the Sultan and the reporters. "The dark outside seems appropriate - matches the inside in its way." That was as subtle as it got for the Kriovalian, and she hoped in light of the others' comments they would understand that she referred to the political situation more than the yarn incident. "It gets interesting fast now."

Engred nodded. "Dark... and interesting-the way the Chi'in would term certain periods of their histories." She curled the wrappers up neatly, and placed them in a pocket of her bag-a habit from field-work in her classes, leaving no trash behind.
her fingers itched for somthing to keep them busy, though.
Engred fiddled with zippers and buttons on her carryon, pulling out a dog-eared notebook and a stub-pencil. "Medea, may I draw you, and Zukie, as well?" she asked, "I need something to do, that I can do, while we wait..."

On the icy plains of what was the Breathed Cargo Airport – right next to the only bank in all of the Militant Pingweener’s territory, and oddly enough also a branch of the Regional Bank of Vastiva (Member, VFIB), which was also one of the few permanent structures in all of Pingweener territory – the landing craft was met by two Polar Bears, and four Vastivan troopers, decked out in full Antarctic gear.

“Lady Vivian Vagqu, of the Tqu ethnic group? Ab-shalom and Greetings, we are here to escort you to Vastiva…. This?... No, this is just our cargo airport. We use this to fly in pickled herring for the natives, or shipments larger then we can handle at other airports…yes, it is rather large. And flat…. No, Ayid, there aren’t any trees or any other windbreak - If you would step this way?”

She was led into the waiting Polar Bear; two of the troopers took care of her luggage and essentials – orders called for allowing her and only her into Vastiva’s care.

In moments, the all-terrain vehicle was moving, the inside warmed and rather comfortable. Soon, they would be at this end of the regional mag-lev (the highway was not safe during winter, and not just because of the polar bears), and from there a private car would whisk her to the Palace.

And the beginning of her adventure.

***

“Lady Neira Vektori?” Tabu Colonel Elliot Wafik looked down, a bit baffled. Well, it was her or the nursemaid… “Welcome to Vastiva. If you and your escort will follow me – my men will handle your luggage – we’ve got a transport to take you to the maglev. You should be in the Palace in an hour or so, at most.”

As they moved, so did their light – a moments notice would see the suits themselves were radiant in a lush clear blue.

“Your pardon if we don’t take you on a tour – our orders are to deliver you safely and soon. Our Sultan has taken up his residency of the Palace again, I’m rather sure he’ll be most anxious to meet you…”

***

In his office, Raahmid put together a few more notes. "What of this Mwr... Mwa... "
"Myfanwy Mhairi ap Hwyl, my Vizier."
"She's not twelve too, is she?"
Drayaa checked her M-TCOD as a way of ducking her head. "No, my Vizier, I am assured she is twenty-three."
"That would be all of it then, another child..."
"Odalai are often welcome in the Palace, my Vizier."
"Maybe. And she is the head of a House of Voltarum."
"No, my Vizier, that is Lady Neira Vektori. To the best of our information, Myfanwy Mhairi ap Hwyl is not a noble."
"Ah."
"Yes, my Vizier. The child is the noble, the adult is a commoner."
Raahmid paused. "Do you think she knows of childcare?"
"I am sure you can ask her when she arrives, my Vizier."
"The Voltarum candidate isn't here yet?"
"No, my Vizier..." Drayaa gave an exasperated sigh. "How long does one have from the bell's peal to make Council, my Vizier?"
Raahmid paled three shades, neatly gathered up the last of his notes - only to jam them and his M-TCOD into a large leather satchel - and all but fled the room.

...only to poke his head back in. "Say that name again."
"Lady Neira Vektori?"
"No, that other one. The one with no vowels."
"Myfanwy Mhairi ap Hwyl."
"ap Heywill?"
"ap Hwyl."
"Ah. Indeed." His head vanished from the doorway, leaving Drayaa to pick up the mess.

Again.

"Dicey Riley" was a revelation. Myfanwy knew magic didn't exist. But by the time Dicey and her companion -- a human-sized, intelligent, upright cat named Bast -- left the hotel room, she knew it did.

Long after her odd visitors had left, Myfanwy sat considering their revelations (and absent-mindedly consuming their parting gift, a bottle of Ardchoille usiquebagh). If magic really did exist, it turned all her assumptions about the world upside-down -- didn't it? Or did it just mean that here was yet another branch of physics about which she knew nothing?

About half-way down the bottle, she decided it didn't really matter. Well, maybe it did, because now she knew that giant intelligent magical cats existed. But maybe it didn't, because she'd already known that humans weren't the only species in the galaxy. But maybe it did, because it was going to have a big effect on Findhorn. But maybe ... ah, why worry? She wouldn't be there to see. She'd be in Vastiva to see. To see what she could see ... the girl went over the mountain, the girl went over the mountain, the girl went over the mounTAIN, to see what she could see ...

"And what d'you think she saw, and what d'you think she saw?" she asked the manager of the hotel. But he refused to speculate, being slightly miffed about having to use his pass key to get into the room. "Your transport has arrived, madam," he said huffily.

At any other time, Myfanwy would have relished the white stretch limo, a vehicle never likely to appear on the twisty goat-tracks of Findhorn. But the polar bear fur that lined its interior, the colourful Vastivan flag on the bonnet and even the police motorcycle escort to the airport went unnoticed. Poured in at one end of the trip and decanted at the other, Myfanwy never once deviated from her musical celebration of the other side of the mountain.

Fortunately, by the time they got her aboard the aircraft, generations of hard-headed ancestral drinkers were beginning to come to her aid. She managed a fuzzy greeting for the flight attendants and a grateful smile for the one who tucked the fur rug round her.

"The bear went over the mountain," she confided to this one, "not me at all," and snuggled into a restorative sleep. Vastiva was a long way away. She'd have plenty of time to sort things out ...

(Curious how Dicey managed to be so convincing? Go to
http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=411350.)

Within the Harem, a bell rang, a slow single note,

…followed by a second…


…then a third.

Then….


…silence.

Engred set the notebook aside, and looked around the room. There was a pause, like the wind gathering its breath.
"Three bells." she commented, "Must be important."
She picked up the notebook again, and started sketching the room from where she sat, creating a background behind the outlines of Medea, Zukie, and Kera.

She paid special attention to the pattern of scrimshaw along the walls.

At the bell’s first peal, industry came to a halt, traffic slowed – and proceedings in the Tower came to a sudden standstill.

At the second, people began to look around.

At the third, the heralds began their calls.

The bells gonging tone stopped Vastiva in her tracks for a full hesitation; it had not been rung so for decades, since the coming of the Soviet…

Several dozen Heralds in Vastiva’s several dozen cities scrambled to make announcements; increases in technology carried their voices through radio, television, intranet.

The people hesitated, wondering…

***

Few would know when, or if, the Sultan ever left the Palace. It was plush beyond words, decorated to any taste, capable of providing wonders most would joyously spend their lives exploring in great and subtle detail.

And yet, the Sultan had chosen to leave, making his way through labyrinthine routes to – of all places – the Tower of Law and Justice. Here, he found an unoccupied study room, plugged into the public connection, locked the door, and sat, considering the designs upon his laptop. Quite a few times, he pulled up documents – some very old, some rather new. Some could be considered borderline pornographic – others held a sort of cute innocence.

Once – but only once – he left to find a book. He returned to the same locked room, exactly the way he left it.

Mostly, he studied the screen, and all that was displayed upon it.

He was disturbed in his studies twice.

”My Sultan, the General sends her regrets…”
“No, she does not.” He barely moved in response.
There was a moment of silence.
“Yes, my Sultan.”
That connection vanished.

The second came as his own alarm went off.
You’d best hurry or you’ll be late! the modulated voice chastised him.
He clicked it off. “Dear sir, it is impossible for me to be late. Without me, there is nothing to be late too.”
Documents were saved, the room tidied, connections undone.
He left the way he’d came.

***

Within the Harem itself, time passed at its own slow rate. Several of the candidates amused themselves in the pools beyond the blue doorways, or in the gardens beyond the green doorways.

It would be the rare woman indeed who did not, on occasion, seek what was beyond the pink doorways.

As time crawled, several new girls were added - and one was removed, kicking and screamingly angry at her removal. The two green-robed women who did the removing paid not the least attention - if they had an expression behind their facecloths, it most likely would have been of bored consideration, perhaps pity.

To the side, one candidate amused herself in a rather curious way. It had begun with a single basketfull of silver coinage - but that was several hours ago. She now sat upon a rather sizable collection of jewels, coins, and bits of golden frippery, laughing to herself and running the riches between her fingers - and snarling at anyone who came close.

She did, however, favor one girl with two golden coins in exchange for a pitcher of cold water.

To another side, several put on a dance routine, hindered somewhat by the inebriation of a few of their number, but made all the more... interesting by the passion they put into their wildness.

More often, discussions and storytelling were the norm - some made up tales; some swapped books; others read to small gatherings; still others drew their tales upon swathes of paper, to be improved or commented on by others.

Ariel's group had called for and received several baskets of fried chicken, salads, fresh fruits, and a tureen of a cold rice soup, flecked with bits of what could have been fish. They drank cold tea, and kept mostly to themselves... save every so often, one would look over at Zukie, giggle, and look away.

Sometimes, a fast glance at the still-covered basket near Ariel's bed was part of the routine.. but not always.

And once - but only once - one glanced at her wristwatch before looking away.

Engred sketched, and mumbled, "Medea, you notice Red's little party over there? I find that I wonder just what her little pal's waiting for that requires precise timing...and why they're eating like it's their last meal-don't stare..." She took a small piece of rolled paper, and began shading, "...we're supposed to be playing dumb for the moment... just a bunch of nice, spoilt rich-girls, here to take advantage of a position as high-class concubines." She set the notebook down, "I gotta hit the powder room. That meal we had at Nassanuela just reached the end of its cycle."
She stood up, and headed for the nearest bathroom.

"Yeah," Medea said, wishing she could get a glimpse of what was in that basket. She had considered asking palace security to take a look, but dismissed the idea. If Ariel had a bomb and had got it this far, palace security would be useless. Besides, she couldn't get her way into the group to see for herself, and it was likely nothing, or so the Kriovalian wanted to believe. Leaning in toward Engred and Zukie, Medea whispered, "I agree. I think we *all* should take a long walk away from here." Running away may be cowardice in its most blatant form, but here it was strength. Besides, she didn't feel like being under the redhead's gaze any more than the others.

Neira looked up at the guard. "Thank you, kind sir. I must confess this is the first time I have been to Vastiva, so I am most glad you are here to guide us... especially with all that bear trouble we have had in the last year."

Ka'tal said nothing as they started to follow the guards to the transport.

Neira started to look around as they walked. As they reached the transport with what she was sure was polar bear fur lined seats, the reality of her situation really hit her. More than hugging Xana and the Premier goodbye, more than the plan ride out of Voltaru space, and the salute from the two Voltaru jets.... it was sitting here, across from two guards, on polar bear fur seats, riding toward a maglev. She was walking in a different country. The air she breathed, though still mind numblingly cold, was still not the same. Everything... the air base, the terrain, the people, even the transport seemed gray, cold, and foreign.

Her country, her house, her friends... all gone. Replaced with aliens, a unknown Sultan, and a hundred and fifty women she had to compete against. She fought back tears and clung to her handbag.

She turned to a guard, hoping to distract her thought process..."I too am most anxious to meet your... our Sultan. I have heard great things about him, and his palace, and look forward to staying there. I can believe he is anxious about meeting me... After all, I am sure he does not think of someone like me when he thinks of his Harem...."

Yes set yourself up now for defeat, Neira, then it won't be so bad later..., she thought to herself.

**
The lobby of the Hotel (OOC: the one you mentioned earlier in the capital, couldnt find the name) was quiet as a tall, ruggedly handsome man approached the main desk. The hostess smiled despite herself.

The man smiled back, and put on his charm. "Hi... I am here to check in... the reservation should be under Smiley..."

The woman giggled to herself, and almost couldn't look away to check the reservation. After a few seconds, she responded. "Ah yes, here I have it... Guy Smiley, indefinite stay. Suite 242. And it also says here that it has been payed for... by a foreign account."

"Yes that sounds right. I am doing some important business here. You know, top secret and all the hush-hush."

The hostess was now in awe. She lowered her voice. "You mean, like spy work?"

Smiley laughed and flashed his amazingly bright teeth. "If i told you that, I would have to kill you." He smiled, winked, and then took the key from her hand, and proceeded to walk towards the elevators. I can't believe that still works... On his way, he motioned for some bellboys to help him with his "luggage." Damn that camera equipment is heavy... Al better get here soon, he thought.

"Guy" hurried out of the elevator. Damn these polyester pants. I don't care if it makes my ass look nice, they freakin suck... He tore open the door and immediately sat down and changed into something more comfortable. He was just getting settled in to watch the latest news about Polar Bear strikes when his phone rang.

"Guy Smiley..."
"Quit the act, Finneus, its your boss... and the Minister.... now listen up, because we will only say this once."

From the General's Perspective... (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=8682612&postcount=9)

Zukie smiled widely, speaking to the other two as they followed the woman to the restroom, Kera in tow. "Of course. We can't let you go to the restroom by yourself now. That'd be most improper of us as friends." She flashed a grin as they each entered the restrooms...


((OOC: My burnt my forefinger cooking, so don't expect many posts from me for a while...))

Engred took the lead on the way to the "Pink Room", tugging her hair impatiently as a pair of drunken dancers momentarily blocked her path. In truth, her bladder felt ready to burst, and her scalp itched for need of a bath. "I wonder if they have showers in there." she muttered crossly. One of the revellers made a lewd face at her, and Engred responded with a look that, (according to her roommate back home) would freeze Helium solid or boil iron to vapour. Whichever the case, it worked spectacularly well, and the inebriated celebrant backed out of her way as if she were transformed to a Carcajou* with its back up.
Engred stepped over two in the doorway, engaged in something of a frenzied writhing nature-without looking down at them.

A tiny portion of her mind noted that some of the more obnoxious ones reacted the way that misbehaving boys did in Homestead Village when Aunt Therese was in a foul mood. Most of the stalls were occupied. she found one where the occupants weren't...didn't need the toilet. "Take it out front, or I swear, You will be sorry." she said through gritted teeth. The two interrupted their liason in a hurry, and vacated. Engred made her preparations, and sat down, not bothering to close the curtain.
It was a relief. "One would think, that with the Sultan having not met anyone yet, that they would have at least waited until things were properly settled before..." she commented wryly, as the poisonous feeling of weight eased in her belly.

The necessary task complete, she wiped, pulled her clothes back into their proper place for modesty, flushed, and checked herself in the mirror. Most of this involved straightening her hair into a proper braid, checking her clothing, and wishing fervently that she had taken a shower at the airbase. The line to use the existing one was inconveniently long.

[*Carcajou- "Badger Bear", also known as the Wolverine. In nature one of the nastiest animals known to exist, Wolves, cougars, even bears run from a Wolverine. One of the few animals that will attack a large predator for no real reason other than it happens to be in their territory. Commonly encountered in the real-world in the upper midwestern U.S. and Canada. Badger family, but faster, and far, far, more aggressive. In Engred's homeland, Carcajou grow to around five-feet long in the southern areas where prey is more plentiful, and they're considered a 'major pest' and a danger to humans, livestock, and other predators. Luckily, Carcajou are solitary, and not bulletproof.]

Ever since she had been led into the harem proper Sadira had been at a loss as to what exactly activities she could undertake. None of the girls that were already present when she had arrived had come across as particularly interesting to talk to, and none of the girls in her group had deigned to even introduce themselves. It briefly crossed her mind that she might be making herself out to be a loner, but the thought did not trouble her overmuch. After all, she was not here for the other girls.

Shortly she decided on just plain relaxing, and she was grateful that Vastiva seemed to share some of Alexandria's rich, Persian-inspired culture. She selected a rich throw-rug, some pillows, and place them all in a way that might remind one of a makeshift bed. She toed off her shoes and lay down, whereupon she found that her dress made it difficult to become completely comfortable. After some shimmying, stetching, and arching of the back she found an acceptable position in which to take a cat nap. The tolling bell did not completely startle her out of her relaxment, but it did bring her out of her semi-conscious doze. Shortly afterwards she was once again slipping back into her nap, and after making a sound of contentment that would have made a cat green with envy, Sadira fell into a deep sleep.

Zukie, while Engred handled her business, was simply amazed at what some of the other women here were doing. "Disgusting." She commented under her breath, turning to Kera. "If I ever do something like that, you have my permission... Nay, I demand it, to shoot me in the head. Repeatedly. Until I stop twitching."

To which Kera responds with a rather too hearty "Yes, ma'am!"

Zukie sighs, turning her attention to Engred, noticing her looking towards the long line to use the showers. "This one is crowded. Wanna check out one of the other bathing rooms around here? I could do with a shower too, anyways. And I think I saw a spa room too." She suggested off-handedly.

Zukie, while Engred handled her business, was simply amazed at what some of the other women here were doing. "Disgusting." She commented under her breath, turning to Kera. "If I ever do something like that, you have my permission... Nay, I demand it, to shoot me in the head. Repeatedly. Until I stop twitching."

To which Kera responds with a rather too hearty "Yes, ma'am!"

Zukie sighs, turning her attention to Engred, noticing her looking towards the long line to use the showers. "This one is crowded. Wanna check out one of the other bathing rooms around here? I could do with a shower too, anyways. And I think I saw a spa room too." She suggested off-handedly.
Engred nodded her assent, and said, "good idea."

Medea regarded the abruptly banished trysters with a mixture of indifference and mild surprise. "Not my thing," she said, "and I hardly care who chooses to do those sorts of things, but here? That's simply crass." Noting that the others in their 'group' were heading toward another bating room, she added, "A shower or bath would be wonderful. It's been almost a full day without for me."

Medea regarded the abruptly banished trysters with a mixture of indifference and mild surprise. "Not my thing," she said, "and I hardly care who chooses to do those sorts of things, but here? That's simply crass." Noting that the others in their 'group' were heading toward another bating room, she added, "A shower or bath would be wonderful. It's been almost a full day without for me."

Almost as the words are out of her mouth, a silver-and-white liveried girl all but "appears" before her, carrying several thick towels, perfumed soap, oils, shampoos, and an assortment of brushes.

She bows quickly, folding herself almost all the way to the floor in doing so. "Ayid, might this one be of some assistance to you and yours?"

The Chamber of the Council of the Sultan was hewn from the center of the mountain; walls remained the same slate-gray stone, stove through with lines of coal and sparkles that might have been diamonds – the whole coated, made clear and impervious to the actions of man.

The stone table at its center, shaped by cunning hands into a widespread V ever so long ago, had been the subject of discussion more then a few times. And yet there was no attempt to purge the stains and cuts left there – instead, they too were coated over, made smooth – but left as a reminder.

The Sultan would sit upon his dias, opposite the apex of the V, upon his own chair, within an area sculpted to bring to his ears even the slightest whisper – this particular facet had proven useful to many, for various reasons. Before his seat were arrayed few objects – should he desire anything, it would be brought.

Of the twenty-eight seats for Council members, twenty-six were now occupied, however fitfully. One place was currently vacant – and likely the subject of some discussion to come. The other….

Nasiri Yassassin was not generally expected to break from tradition and make himself known. They did keep his place for him, just in case.

Only the councilors themselves had been allowed through the main door; guards, escorts, deputies, all others were made to remain outside. The green robed doormen had even made it a point this time to disarm the council – they allowed for modesty to be preserved behind a series of curtains, but most certainly their examinations could be thorough if one’s veracity were in question.

They had been seated the better part of an hour – they had been graciously allowed cold water, a variety of baked goods, a few samples of smoked seafoods, and several pots of coffee for their consumption – and still the Sultan had not made his appearance.

Not a few glanced at the stains, so well-preserved, their possible message a cold presence.

When the Sultan did enter by his own door with his two green-robed escorts – a mirror of those who stood as pillars on this side of the main door, a sample of those who remained outside – the Council made its first mistake.

As Sultan Sinjin Lefkowitz al-Din seated himself and arranged his robes, the room entire bowed their protocols.

And then began the shouting.

“We had nothing to do with this! Nothing!”
“It remains a major point of protocol for the Harem to exist…”
“… women in that room for who knows how long…”
“And if we turn her down, what will happen to the price of cheese?”
“… did not send anyone, should we be offended or thankful?”
“...most certainly not our idea.”
“Do you deny sending…”
“…not have this here! Especially in view of those terrorists, what right do you have…”
“… foreign women here. And how do we know they are not spies for…”
“Most certainly did not! I had nothing to do with…”
“… cost alone will make a sizable dent in…”
“Twelve! I ask you, twelve! The consequences to our image alone…”

Sinjin let them shout, watching for a time with unconcerned gaze sweeping the room, watching who took part – and who did not. When his observations sufficed, he lifted the silver wand from before him, and struck the silver bell beside.

The reaction was instantaneous.

Silence.

“If there is blame to be spoken of,” his voice carried easily through the smallish room, “then it will be spoken of in it’s proper time and place. This… is neither. Be assured, there will be a time, and there will be a place. But, for now, this is the place to speak your collective minds of what shall be done.”

He set down the wand.

“I assure you, the crocodile pit is closed for the time being. Though it must be said, I inherited most of you with the conception you were… professionals.”

The word had a long moment of back and forth looks between several of the Council before the Sultan continued.

“As I appear to be more then a week behind the times, if someone would mind bringing up the numbers?”

Raahmid stood with slow dignity, and gave the Sultan a soft but full bow. “Firstly, my Sultan, may I thank you for your assurance. Most certainly, I am rather touched by age, and the crocodiles might find me rather tasteless and a touch chewy for their liking.”

Sinjin favored him with a half smile and a nod.

“My office has processed just over seven hundred and fifty thousand applications. Removing those which were obvious pleas of intervention, those which were inappropriate, or made with intent to promote some form of humor, we still needed some form of segregation of the individuals.”

Sinjin waved his hand. “However you picked and chose, you have picked and they have been chosen. What is the final tally of this particular… gathering?”

Raahmid performed another bow, quicker but nonetheless complete. “There are one hundred and ninety two candidates.”

Guard-Captain Therassi rose from his chair, leather armor creaking as he did. “Under the direction of the Grand Vizier, these candidates have been broken into two groups. One group resides in the Harem proper. The other has been made secure in the Palace Apartments. It is doubtful at this time if the two know of each others existence.

“There are, to be sure,” he stumbled in his words, “a few notable exceptions, and not all candidates are yet in residence…”

“A situation which will soon be rectified, my Sultan: VAL reports most if not all of those unaccounted for are enroute even as we speak.” Kareem ben Alovar’s toady bulk reaffixed itself to his seat as swiftly as humanly possible.

The Guard-Captain nodded a thanks to the Vizier of Domestic Activities before continuing. “A good part of the house staff, along with elements of the 13th, 14th, and 21st FRAM regiments volunteered to pose as additional bodies, and to administer the Second Test to candidates.”

“What of the First?”

Therassi licked his lips. “Fifty-six failed, my Sultan.”

“Good. Dismiss them after suitable holiday.”

“Do you, my Sultan,” the First of the Palace Servants stood rapidly even as she bowed, “perhaps wish them offered positions of Iqdai?”

“No.” The word came out flat and exact. “If they have no manners, inflicting them on others would show us as having worse ones.”

“Yes, my Sultan,” she sat quickly, even as Therassi bowed stoicly.

“Yes, my Sultan. There has also been one dismissal for a failure of the Third test – though it was rather self-administered.”

“Indeed.”

Therassi licked his lips again. “We plan to administer it many times in the coming week.”

“And the last two?”

“As the opportunity provides itself, my Sultan.”

Sinjin stroked his beard, lost in thought for a moment. “Nivia, What are the odds of all the candidates failing at least one of the tests?”

Sinjin’s Chief Herald stood slowly, straightening her glasses as she did so. “If it pleases you, my Sultan, it has occurred before, and likely will again.”

“But,” interjected ben Alovar without standing, “this time, it can not.”

“Can not? You have a prescient vision to share?”

“Indeed not, my Sultan,” his form straightened. “I would merely point out the facts of the matter. Vastiva cannot ill-afford to turn down the candidacy of Lady Neira Vektori…”

“A twelve-year old child!” Kuhlbert ben Tharwat looked around, suddenly amazed he had indeed spoken aloud.

Kareem turned his unblinking eyes upon the Bey Elect. “Yes, a twelve year old child. One whose acceptance means a lowering of the price of cheese in Vastiva such that even those of your ilk can afford much of it more often.” He gave his attention to Sinjin. “She may be, at this time, Odalai, but far better an Odalai and fattened stomachs in the general populace, then silent halls in the Palace – and rebellion outside.”

“Ahhh….’Let me have about me men who are fat, sleek-headed men who sleep at night’?”

The Vizier gave a bow and took his seat again.

“Good advice - it would seem.” Sinjin’s countenance changed not a whisker. “Are there others of this sort?”

“It would seem a shame not to keep the merwoman,” came the comment from Barba Svalbard. “She is rather easy to entertain, keeps to herself, and has a lovely singing voice. Your staff does rather enjoy listening to her sing.”

Sinjin nodded at that.

“And there is the candidate from Scandavian States.”

“This,” Sinjin spoke softly, yet each word carried through the room, “concerns me. How is it we have performed to our utmost, whenever NATO’s banner is rallied – and yet when someone detonates themselves in my airport, there is not a word, not a whimper?”

“Perhaps I should have called it an invasion,” muttered Nivia in a rare show of pique.

“Perhaps next time,” came the retort from ben Tharwat.

“If it please all, that is what I am working to prevent. And I might ask, what would the Council wish to do if, let us say, Damian the Destroyer sent a daughter as candidate?”

”Wonder how she’s holding her head on.” Came ben Tharwat’s quick reply.
“We might ask her to check all sharp objects at the border,” added Minister Christenson, blushing nicely as she did.
Dr Abu ben Venkmann shook his head with finality. “With all due consideration, that might be a field of study none of us would dare get involved with.”

“Truly do you speak.” For the first time, Sinjin looked mildly disturbed, though this quickly passed.

He was spared further comment by his Grand Vizier. “All in all, my Sultan, we have nineteen letters from our Regional Allies, including Joop – who did state while his people might show an interest, the idea of a polar bear within the Palace might be disturbing to Vastiva – and the Militant Pingweeners, who volunteered a dance troupe for any ceremonies we hold.”

“As long as they continue to allow us our bank there,” muttered Isek ben Zvi, “That’s all I ask.”

Raahmid spared him not a glance. “We have a short letter from Sharina asking, in short, what was going on. That appears to be the extent of it.”

“My Sultan,” Therassi came to his feet again, “If I might bring up a minor matter? Daffadar Huxley was mauled badly by the Lycan candidate, during the Second Test. She will indeed recover, though surgeries will be extensive…”

“Promote her by three ranks,” clipped Sinjin, “and allow her retirement with full benefits and a full Palace pension, if she desires.”

“Yes, my Sultan,” Therassi exhaled, relieved.

“Allow her any surgery she desires, no matter how trivial, from now until her twenty-ninth step.” He concluded.

Therassi’s eyebrows came up, but he merely bowed and sat.

“It becomes most evident this will not be satisfied quickly – or in a manner truly to my liking. Therefore, Raahmid, if you would distribute copies of all accepted applications to the Council members, I should like to hear from them who should be inducted, to what, and why.”

“Yes, my…”

Sinjin swept himself from his seat. “The Council is adjourned.”
The bell sounded once, and the Sultan removed himself from the Council Chambers.

Five heartbeats passed before the outer doors were opened.

And even as the others filed out, Raahmid stood, looking at the chair vacated so rapidly.

“It would seem,” ventured ben Alovar, “that we are not entirely privy to all the goings on of the higher court?”

Raahmid shook himself out of his stun. “Most often, things are better as such, for the more one knows, the more one believes. And occasionally, my Vizier, things are not quite as they seem.”

“My appreciation for your warning, Grand Vizier. Namaste?”

“Namaste.”

Kareem gave himself a moment beyond Raahmid’s departure to wonder at the sparkles in the walls. ”Indeed, it is truly written, sometimes in the darkest places, one can find diamonds of impressive value.”

((OOC: Oh. Umh, in case anyone wants it, HERE (http://www.akaichou.net/neo/Butterfly.zip) is Sae's (Not 110% true, it's really the ending theme, but for this character, it's her theme.) theme song in MP3 Format. >_> It's in Japanese. I can get the lyrics, and post them up, if anyone wants 'em. Umh... Anyways... To the post!))



The Harem common area was densely crowded. Girls chatted amongst themselves, a few took to drunken dancing. Most lounged about, relaxed and slept.

Wearing an all black Preistess garment, a thick white veil with odd markings on it hid her face as she sat cross-legged on a rare spot of bare floor. Weither this woman was mediatating or just sleeping was unknown, but it was abundently clear she paid little mind to those around her, as more then a few of the dancing women who populated the Harem commons nearly trip over her, and she doesn't so much as flinch a muscle, and those who work up the gull to try and strike up a conversation with her are meet with a cold walled silence.


Sae sat in deep concentration, filtering out the noise and racket around her, centering herself on the internal reserve of her own spirit energy. Her outfit was designed specifically to assist in achieving this inner most moment of tranquility. The veil acted as a means to filter out the trivial outside world, the prayer written on it also granting her the ability to sense when she was in danger, so she mayst leave her meditation to deal with such.

The garments also did a suberb job at hiding both her catears and tail. To those even looking directly at her at close range, they would see nothing more then a black robed, black haired human female preistess of some sort... Wearing a creepy veil over her face, to boot.