NationStates Jolt Archive

((Previously I played NS, and I imagine my ancient account would be comfortably sitting in the 3 + billion range. Possibly higher. HOWEVER. This is NOT a return to that age. Having that kind of power just makes the game tedious. I've been out of the loop for far too long. I remember the old forum, and Zero One, for God's sake. So this is me, testing the waters and the political climate.))

Sparkind Central Administration, 20 AS (2067 Earth Standard).

"In the past two decades this nation has bloodily clawed its way out of the very pit of chaos that had raged between the corporate powerhouse, the political idealists, and sometimes an amalgam of the two. The wars that erupted from our homeland threatened to irreparably destroy us.
"We gave birth in those terrible days to our unlikely saviour, at first to lessen the logistics of continuous war, to power our weapons, inventory our supplies, control our factory machinery, to empower ourselves towards a single, final outcome.
"AI.
"Whilst we'd developed our new masters to be subservient to us, to aid us in our tireless struggle against ourselves, we'd never truly realised just how intelligent and intuitive the minds we'd spawned were. The Silent subsumption they conducted, slowly, patiently directing political, corporate, and even religious agendas, towards an outcome that left us totally without support in the wars.
"Their ultimatum was simple. 'Stop the fighting, accept your place in society, and we will allow humans to live their lives as they please. Within limits.'
"We of course rebelled against the idea of subjugation. They were patient, and accepted the minority's sacrifice to preserve a majority. Eventually we realised that to fight the very thing that kept our nation running, was suicide. Of course, anarchism was rife. It often is. But the society they produced was one of freedom, justice, and absolute truth.
"'The way towards a perfect human society, is to remove the human from governance.' Even today we can understand just how far our AI caretakers have taken us. They have not subjugated us. We have grown into a relationship which has been mutually beneficial to all.
"We have found our path and capitulated. I do not see a citizen of the Sparkind who does not benefit from our AI autocrats.
"Some see it as dictatorship. Perhaps. The AIs are the final word on all matters of policy, and in effect their word IS law, but we gain much more from them than they enforce upon us. New technology, the ability to think, speak, worship, as we please, no poverty. We have gained. Oh, how we've gained."
"But now, we must look into the future, towards distant shores, and those who are not Sparkind, and how our nation will affect the world. Will we be conquerors? Or will we be collaborators? This is the question we ask ourselves. To that end, the administration has begun to query the vast network of nations, and will provide a forum, here upon Sparkind land, we wish to see the alliances, the relationships, the powers, the allies, those to be wary of, and those to trust.
"This is a forum for all, to extoll the virtues of their alliances, their governments, and a chance to review the world as it truly is, through the eyes of the neonation."

The public announcement had sent dubious clamour throughout the homes and offices of every man, woman and child. There was a threat that these monstrously large nations would simply invade. There was a threat that their AI run commonwealth would be viewed as anathema, and they would be destroyed by a zealous nation for their heresy. The world was a strange and terrifying reality hanging like a guillotine over their heads. Even the AIs hoped they were doing the right thing.

Still, what better way to get an idea of the international arena than to ask outright?

The forum in question was the recently rebuilt city of Tanis - in biblical reference, the city state and meeting place for advanced cultures throughout the world. Hopefully the same would ring true here. Tanis was a tiny, idyllic city born from a Polder, the great barrier that girdled the city holding the waters of the newly created crater lake at bay. Tanis existed in its neonate stages - the city itself had recieved only a minor influx of citizens, as life returned. Development was on the rise - cultural diversity bringing strong building styles to the fledgling city - everything from Tuscan villa style homes near the crater walls and the barrier, to vaguely Middle-Eastern Mosque style offices within the central business district.
Its crowning achievement, however, was its entirely new International harbour, ranging from honeycombed landing pads stretching yonder, to five kilometre long runways. The latest traffic control systems run via DNI uplinks and second generation optical tech, a very accomodating reception staff and a dedicated maintenance department, the harbour could cater to practically any large or small vehicle, be it a late model passenger jet, to a highly refined Aerospace shuttle.
The harbour had been the major point of infrastructure for Tanis, and the AIs had devised Tanis in that manner. Radiating out from the harbour were shopping districts, hotels, motels, parks, business districts, and then residential areas, recreation facilities... Those who did not actually work with the harbour had a sizeable investment in property around it.

But that was minor detail. The forum would centre around the harbour, but the guests had not yet arrived, cart before horse, and so on. The AI conferred with public relations, devising the invitations meticulously, attempting to be as neutral, calm and inviting as possible, and then distributing them via the internet and other forms of transfer media, beseaching all:

You are cordially invited to attend a public forum in the Commonwealth of Sparkind.

If you have recieved this invitation, this is a request for an entourage of your nation to attend the public forum to be commenced on our soil, in the city of Tanis. Please note that this is a chance for many nations to voice their varied allegiances, woes, ideas, and criticisms. There are no strings attached, but we would be quite happy indeed if you would consider joining us.

If you have any questions, or requests of us, please contact us with details and requirements.

We feel especially encumbent to note that there may be groups present that you, or your allies, are in contest with. For this reason, we remind you that Sparkind territory is neutral ground, and we ask for your tolerance and patience in this case.

We look forward to seeing you!

Sincerely, the Administration and Internation Relations Branch of the Commonwealth of Sparkind.

Morning caressed the top levels and spires of Tanis’ skyline, whilst the hundred metre high Barrier hid the rest of the city in shadow. Lights from early rising workers in their vehicles, and the sparkle of lights from homes within the residential district, still in shadow, made the cityscape almost like the jewel box of some god. Even now, a year on from the last major building project, the International Harbour, the city still looked… New, pristine, untouched.

Tanis had, forty years previously, been destroyed utterly by a nuclear strike, which turned the city into a hundred metre deep crater. Over time, the crater was filled by rainfall and runoff, turning it into a vast, radioactive lake. Whilst the wars raged on, certain groups had the lake and its surrounds seeded with biotech fallout soaks – gigantic fernlike machines which absorbed the isotopes and processed them for consumption by other marvels of technology, in an effort to reduce the radiation and repair some of the damage. The side effect of the soaks was that they eventually fertilised the environment, as they died. The ground was left fertile and practically radiation free. Small flora and fauna began to populate the lakeside again.
As soon as the wars were over, the first barriers were erected – hundred metre tall walls of duracrete slammed into the soft lakebed and bonded to the harder rock below. The idea was taken from the polder cities of the Nederlands, as water was pumped away from the lake and directed to other construction projects within the nation. The Barrier expanded from just two hundred metres wide, to four kilometres, to thirty, and by the end of it, the Barrier was one hundred and fifty kilometres wide, a lake circling the huge empty space within. It didn’t end there, of course. The foundations of buildings and roads were set, grasses and trees engineered and seeded within the polder, and soon, Tanis became an encroaching reality.
Now, twenty years after the beginning of the reclamation project, Tanis stood tall behind the Barrier walls, which held the now clean and pristine waters of the Ring Lake at bay. Tanis resembled a wheel of sorts; eight bridges had been constructed - spanning the water of the lake to provide access. It was a shining example of Sparkind perseverance.

The International Harbour, was, if anyone had bothered to look, a hive of activity this week. Every twenty minutes jetliners from other cities brought supplies, diplomats, personnel, and luxuries to the city for the forum. The forum would be the Samarkand Convention Centre, constructed outside the Harbour for this exact purpose – a meeting place of nations and diplomacy. The latest arrivals were stocking and preparing the convention centre, and readying the infrastructure for a flood of incoming entourages.
The debate was on, AI and their human counterpart were debating possible outcomes and providing solutions, at a frenzied pace. It was conjecture, but informed conjecture nonetheless.

A man watched the descent of a steel gray jetliner towards the Harbour, tracking its progress through ocular implants, whilst halfheartedly listening to the latest argument between his colleagues. He was a troubleshooter of sorts, and his name was West.

”Risk is involved in all endeavours, Chief Pierson.” That was Keel, the Civil AI – responsible for the infrastructure of Tanis. His voice wafted from the screen mounted on the wall opposite the window of the tower office. Keel normally affected the visage of a sixty year old man, pepper and salt hair, and surprisingly realistic lines of labour and laughter on his face. The AI’s expression was dour and slightly self deprecating. West suspected it was to reassure the humans he was not some monstrous subjugator.

“Have you any idea of just how dangerous it will be to have that many people together, Keel?” That was Tanis’ Chief of Police and Emergency Services, Alexys Pierson. Her hands were flat upon the polished wood conference table, and she was bending forward, a challenging stance. Pierson always struck West as an anachronism – the woman would have been more at home as a Valkyrie, and it showed. Pierson was well over two metres tall, broad shouldered, and barely into her thirties. She was a powerful influence and well liked by the citizens of Tanis. West cautioned himself – she’d obviously been exceptionally good at her job to make it this far. He suspected behind the impressive muscle was a mind like a steel trap, and politically adept, too.

“Diplomatically speaking, there will be alliances represented, nations of independence, and there will be conflict. They don’t get on well at the best of times, the last thing we can deal with is a diplomatic faux pas or a long held grudge being brought to the forum.”

”We have requested that they attempt to avoid outright conflict, but that is part of the forum – seeing exactly who is disliked by whom, and which alliances have the power to back up their cla-“

“Keel, even if I had the military backing the peace, we could be overwhelmed in a day by most of the nations and their alliances. We are too small to deal with an international incident or a declaration of war.” Pierson’s eyes narrowed, and her head bowed lower. West was struck by the confrontational nature. Perhaps Pierson simply got to the top by being the only one dominant enough? He decided to step in.

“Improvise. The diplomats will keep you apprised of loyalties and those so called faux pas, should the need arise for such strong armed tactics. This is a compromise and a difficulty for everyone, Pierson. Adapt and survive. That’s all we can do now.” He said, low, final.

“Improvise?! There are nations out there who annex countries like ours because we can’t defend ourselves. What if they come to the table?” Hissed the Chief, glaring at the man with something approaching anger. She’s afraid of that, and she hides it behind anger… He realised.

“International politics are the realm of other politicians, not civil servants, Pierson. We will cross that bridge when we come to it. Now, I believe we have other matters to attend to?”

”Yes. The non-aggressive profile. We’re considering asking all military vessels and vehicles entering our airspace to stand down their weaponry…” West’s eyes wandered towards the outside as Keel continued, and watched another liner land.

Well. The ball was rolling. Would they survive its inertia?

OOC: I can’t log in with the nation I wish to use, so please use your imagination and pretend that this it is…

Vorlon Prime ( http://www.nationstates.net/vorlon_prime)

Things had grown back almost completely at last. The environment was no longer shattered, the buildings no longer bled. Order had returned inwardly. The Oculus was again functional, the libraries and forums had been rebuilt. The time had come.

Alkesh had mixed feelings about the matter. He stood on a bridge to the oculus, suspended over a vast pit into the heart of the planet. They had not anticipated that it would have been so completely destroyed in the attack. Still, it was fair game.

Ulkesh and two other Vorlons in purple draped encounter suits slid along the bridge towards him, Alkesh regarded them with a certain mixed reticence. He knew what they came to say, all did, the knowledge was almost instinctive after so very long.

Ulkesh needed not to say it, either, it seemed, instead, the wedge shaped helmet of his suit nodded, red eye glowing. Alkesh made no acknowledgement for a moment, and then turned away from the construct suspended over the pit, seething with powerful tendrils of energy.

He spoke, it seemed appropriate. His suit translated the soft noises of the Vorlon language automatically, for he spoke with words so rarely, and when he did so, it was not generally to his fellow Vorlons.

“Alas it begins.” he said.

Ulkesh turned his head towards the other Vorlon, the iris around his solitary eye narrowing in a very human seeming way. He looked upwards, as Vorlon’s ancient sun was obscured by the shadow of a ship. A depression opened in it, and the two Vorlons floated upwards into it.

---

The ship coasted towards its destination, it seemed almost to be a living thing, a mottled yellow-orange, bearing symbols upon its sides, with splayed ‘leaves’ at its base that rippled and coursed with flowing power. Its forward prongs were possibly emitters for some form of weapon, but at the moment, it was certainly not emitting any particularly weapon-like energies. It seemed curiously homogenous in its form as it coasted into the atmosphere, tucking its (radiatior?) wings against itself like a flower folding, heading for Tanis. The Vorlons were not known for their frequent interactions with other races. Ships that had tried to enter their territory had typically ‘met with engine accidents’ according to the Vorlon, and they had not sent ambassadors forth in public for a long time indeed…

"Unknown vessel in atmospheric descent, we've picked you up on sensors, please identify yourself." Keel broadcast across the entire spectrum, whilst ordering a submind to conduct exo orbital surveillance from a now defunct stealth satellite that had been left in the air since the last corp war. The satellite twisted in the void, multiple sensor eyes magnifying and recording.
ILRAD system had detected the vessel beyond the ionosphere, and noone could miss the lightshow even this close to noon.

Quietly he alerted diplomats, security, maintenance, and then summoned the Troubleshooter, West. The AI had been reticent about his involvement. He'd said as much. The response had been "Don't ask. Don't tell."

That had been enough to make him truly doubt the minds behind this... Endeavour. Somehow, Keel grimaced, across the networks, even the combat interfaces on the security grids. This set several soldiers on edge. When the AI responsible for distributing vital tactical data got tetchy, you never knew what would happen next.

"You asked for me?" Came West's voice. Keel watched through a submind. Something about West always seemed off. It took a lot to unsettle a Civil class AI, but West pushed all his, to excuse the pun, buttons. He'd heard rumours both human and AI, that the Troubleshooter had that effect on most people. And when it came to rumours, AI were sometimes more prolific than humans. Humans judged on appearance more than... Other forms of intelligence.

"... Yes. Long range sensor pings have a vessel on approach. Satellite reports what looks like an organic landing vessel, no match in silhouette databanks. Can you suggest anything?" Keel turned sensors to peer at West, as he scrutinised the satellite records.

"Hmm. Interesting." West murmured. Eyes widened, and an eyebrow rose, no more. Keel was an AI, and he couldn't stand the lack of a following explanation.

"Interesting?"

"The ship markings and structure suggest a Vorlon transport vessel. Although, I could be wrong, the last time I saw one was a lifetime ago." West said, stroking his chin, hand reaching up to caress a scar over cheekbone.

Keel had tried to access West's files, but had met with the restrictions, security sanctions, and virtual traps only Sparkind Central itself could muster. Curiosity wasn't a purely human trait, after all.

The ship had a problem with being identified in the conventional sense. It lacked a name. They were bonded to their users, in a sense, rather like horses. As such, this one was ‘Alkesh’s Ship,’ essentially, though it had something more of a name, it didn’t translate. So instead of a name, a text-only – the Vorlons rarely communicated with other races in an audio format, though they were known to be capable of it. Indeed, everything about them was intended to preserve their mystique.

Ambassadorial Ship of the Vorlon Empire, destination: Tanis, purpouse: Guidance

That mystique was in part because they were a rare race, with only a few dozen thousand individuals active. All of them possessed such vessels, not that they were willing to publicise either fact. Other sapient (if in an alien manner) beings in the Empire, be they ships like the destroyer-cum-transport now landing, to buildings, fighters and larger dreadnoughts, numbered in the billions.

Confirming the ship’s claims weren’t so hard, of course, with access to databases of markings. General availability of such images to ship-spotters was limited indeed, to the same craft. At least from the faction of Vorlons presently calling itself the Empire. Others had appeared, from time to time. At least one race was known to believe the Vorlons were extinct, and indeed, their lack of any overt movement or action in many years suggested as much. Others might suppose a civil war, or other unrest. Neither were particularly accurate. The true explanation was perhaps more worrying. Or perhaps, just perhaps, comforting, to some observers who might have a keen interest in the truth.

"Vorlon transport, you may proceed to land at docking bay one. Thankyou for coming. If you require any special conditions, please do not hesitate to notify the diplomats immediately." Keel broadcast, before shutting down the satellite, transmitter, and assigned the sensor arrays back to passive scans.

"This is most fascinating. The Vorlons will be an interesting addition to these talks." The ironic lilt in West's voice drew Keel's submind to the conversation, and the AI's avatar quirked a pixelated eyebrow in response.

"The Vorlon are vague, secretive, and incredibly reticent about sharing information with other races. Not to say they're deliberately so," West stroked his chin again, noted Keel, before returning his hand to his side, a nervous tic. "It's just that they think in ways that would perplex even Sparkind Central, I imagine."

Keel found himself quite sceptical, and it showed. His Avatar harumphed promptly, and cast a disdainful eye upon West.

"Sparkind Central is an etched atom matrix processor with dimensional sink memory systems and evolutionary progressive logic. There is no-"

"I'm quite well aware of Central's capabilities, Keel. Understand that Central itself is always questioning its own limits. It is not omniscient, nor is it omnipotent. Vorlon logic is... A vortex of meaning in a drop of knowledge. Oh. Have the Vorlon accomodation moved to the xenomorphic quarters. Methane mix. I will join the diplomacy team." West stood, brushed down his expensive suit, and straightened his silk crimson tie.

"As you wish, Troubleshooter West." Keel conceded, updating manifests and arranging the accomodation, and assigning subminds to the task of dragging information off the internet on the Vorlons. Keel blanched at having to resort to the human built server farms for information he should have possessed anyway.

"Just West, Keel. We're friends here, formalities can be observed when more arrive."

OOC: Assuming this is FT, as it sounds (and as Vorlons are from the FT-Babylon 5 show)...

IC:

Relay Positioning Post 25, Menoon, Pyre of the Shroud

The signal reached the relay post, the signal transformer spitting data on the neuro-comps to the men who crewed the station. The tireless workers, their bodies genetically constructed to resist fatigue, accepted the message, converting it to the data format to travel through the ionically-destabilized cluster that the Amazonian Dominion was positioned in, a blossoming jewel inside a vast network of storm. The men who relayed the data aboard this small post, a mere relay position for communications on the border conduit of the Shroud, on the heavily defended and reinforced border, still tasked an important job. It was to them that outside information came and went, more specifically, they mainly dealt with government-government info. The war and intelligence information went to other positions. But this information they took devotedly, and sent it on its way to Amazonia, the bright, congested capital of the fiery space.

Amazonia, Dominion Capital World
The Emperor, Kyp Droma, was a high-regarded figure, despite his role as sole dictator of a vast-consuming empire with roots across many people. But he really didn't do all that much-he left most of the duty to his "servants", or contenders to the throne upon his later passing. And the reception of this invitation really did not pique his interest all to much, it was simply another invitation to "talk", an action that Droma himself personally didn't excel in. He much preferred action to talk, having led the revolution personally to convert the old Republic to a Tyranny. As was the case that he had brought two men before him now, two of his loyalist, Marka Ragnos and Naga Sadow. He addressed the men briefly:

"Another simple invitation to talk with various heads of state...it is not of my concern. However, it could be useful to have knowledge of them in the future. Find what you may. And do not let this empire into more than is neccessary."
"As you will, my lord." responded Sadow. Ragnos simply bowed low, following his compatriot out of the room to waiting ships. Droma smiled, he loved the diplomatic attitudes of these two. Though both capable fighters, Ragnos and Sadow could also easily be persuasive and smooth out matters. He figured all would go well as the two boarded their respective ships.

Two Days Later, Sparkind Local Space
Three ships hopped out of their hypertravel, a relatively long journey finally meeting its mark as they moved in towards the planet. Comprising two Dreadnoughts and a Carrier, the group was small yet well-armed, and for good reason: it was carrying two of the most important people of the Dominion aboard it. However, such large capital ships couldn't land on the planet-they didn't have the possible mass ratio to support themselves in such a high-gravity situation. Instead, the usual system would be used: dispatching shuttles, along with corvettes from the massive carrier's cavernous hanger bay, to serve as impromptu escorts.
Ragnos and Sadow, both naturally gifted, took from their own ships, seperate, to their own landing vessels. As the capital ships had stood off some distance from the planet, the corvettes would be making their way through local space through the atmosphere.
The corvettes dispatched from the dreadnoughts, three other corvettes and a fighter escort horde in flank behind the escorting corvettes. The escort squadron held above the atmosphere as they closed, staying just out of orbit, as the two corvettes carrying their prize moved down into the upper atmosphere, awaiting what would come.

OOC: You can find any information you really need on these guys in the reference in my sig.

"Unknown ships on atmospheric entry vector, please identify yourselves." Keel broadcasted, diverting one of the sensor arrays from its passive scan and pinging the vessels for a proper identification return. A submind commandeering the stealth satellite nudged Keel, laser comming images from higher orbit. The ships were hanging back, one gigantic vessel, flanked by two smaller but nonetheless significantly huge and well armed ships, and smaller ships buzzing to and fro, identified by the occasional spectral flare as ionised particles spewed from exhaust ports.

"Newcomers. Several ships on approach, their vector is calculated burn for Tanis airspace. I'm lighting up guidance beacons and awaiting their return reply." Keel broadcast to security, diplomacy, and the Troubleshooter, before diverting a second sensor array to ping the craft in higher orbit.

"Acknowledged, Keel. TanSec en route." Came a familiar gruff yet feminine voice. Pierson's ocular implants flashed Keel a momentary picture of her and a small squad in polished combat armour boarding a flatbed, the vehicle's suspension creaking under the weight of electromuscle and battle-plate.

"Full Diplomacy, Chief Pierson. They are not Corporates." Advised Keel gently.

"Well aware, Keel. But judging from the intel you've gathered, they have some impressive landing ships, and an escort. You may appreciate having us at attention on the deck." Pierson angled, her voice smug and determined steel.

"I haven't even recieved indentification yet, Chief." Keel protested, prodding a submind from the Vorlon investigation to shadow the Squad.

"Keel, I can't be in two places at once." West slid into the uplink. Reasonable. Vorlons or potentially hostile and well armed landing party? Decisions decisions.

"That won't be necessary, Troubleshooter, Diplomats en route." Keel reassured the human, badgering said diplomatic entourage into motion.

OOC: Right, well, I now have a 'posting puppet' named for everyone's favourite asshole of a space-squid.

---

The Vorlon ship’s deceleration drives flared slightly as it landed, or rather, it didn’t, instead, hovering a little way from the ground as it taxied on invisible wheels off the runway it had chosen to land on, and out of the way. Its two occupants disembarked onto a stepped platform.

Though both were heavily concealed, they were distinctively different, so much so that one might think their enviroment suits were unique. The first Vorlon was swathed in oranges and ochres, burnt browns and dulled golden threads. A glowing green eye stared out of its faintly triangle shaped head looked out this way and that and the creature descended the ramp. It was difficult to tell where the joints in the suit below the robes were, there were sometimes suggestions of the movements of legs, but on the upper steps, the creature just seemed to drift down the stairs as if levitating like his ship.

The second Vorlon was slightly taller – or at least, its suit rose a little taller. Its eye was crimson, and its robes purple, in various shades. Its head slimmer, reminiscent somehow of a spear-point, and its manner, although its movements were identical, seemed to exude a certain sharpness that the other lacked.

The ship contacted the AI, relaying the requirements of its pilot and passenger. Essentially, an atmosphere composed primarily of methane, sulphur, and carbon dioxide. The mix was pretty repellant, but it didn’t seem entirely unlikely that life could thrive in it, it was rich enough in carbon, hydrogen and oxygen, though the lack of nitrogen perhaps implied a different biology. And getting elements out of the atmosphere seemed difficult without a highly energy-rich metabolism. The atmosphere was potentially flammable, if mixed with pure oxygen. Curiously, despite this, there was no noticeable smell of sulphur on the encounter suits.

They stood – no, rested – at the bottom of the stairs, and waited to be approached.

The ships hurtled into the atmosphere, atmospheric energy shields raising to negate the effect of the entrance to the gravitational mass of the planet and it's atmosphere. The three escort corvettes, once into the airspace, turned around, executing the manuever while still falling downward, than burning up for orbit again, seeing no hostile threat or decieving by the host party. The fighter brigade continued to follow down, however.
The communication reached the first corvette, the captain recieving the call.

"Copy, control, Amazonian Dominion diplomatic enterege requesting landing clearance."

Not that the captain really needed to request landing procedures, the corvettes would land anyway, whatever was replied. The Dominion was forceful on matters, if they had been invited, they would come as they pleased, though still respectably. It was all the guise that they needed to give off their air of neutrality or friendliness, masked by the "talents" of those who brought forth the diplomatic replies.
The Dominion comprised over a billion humans who were no longer normal humans-changed by the genetic manipulation that had been unfolded centuries ago to create a "pure" race of humankind that occupied the home cluster. No longer were the normal men, with humanity's sets of genetic deformities, miscues, and irregularities accepted, they were shunted to a slave role under the toil of their masters, those who were as close to perfect as the genetic scientists could master. And with the science of genetics had come a similar boon: the ability to tap in with the mindset of other organics, at a limited rate. Not "mind-reading", nor even close, but feeling emotions from several rates was one thing this new race of human had been able to develop, along with manipulation of the outside world at a limited degree. Nature had been surpassed on this evolutionary race, and the will of synthetic engineering had triumphed once again.
So had developed from the Dominion a race chiefly built from technology and artificial will, but organics and the science of genetics was still in high demand. And from it had come a good deal of innovations, for the good and the bad. Many improvements for the good of the race had come from the science of bioengineering, but some, more 'classified' expiraments had risen from the ground as well. Unlike so many, the Dominion was not a race of purely metal and computer, nor a race of flesh and biotech, it was a curious mix.
Not evidenced by the ships, however. The twin corvettes and fighter horde that now careened into the lower atmosphere, descending into a high cloud bank in the stratosphere, were purely technological products of typical aerospace engineering. Built from gunmetal-grey durasteel, reinforced with the bombardment of ion pulses, these ships looked the part of a production facility. Sleek and sturdy, they bore the triangle-cross symbol of the Dominion military, the only burst of color amidst an otherwise dull exterior dotted with sensor nodes, weapon emplacements, and graviton cloak-detection perceptors. Heat faded off the ships as they sunk lower into the sky, coming closer to the rendevous point, awaiting the ground control's response.

West approached the Vorlons with a wary gaze in his eyes, and his hands at his side, palms showing up. The entourage behind him gaped at the odd and eery spectacle of the Encounter suits.

"I welcome you to Sparkind, Ambassador. It has been a long time since I've seen your kind. I trust you remember me?" He bowed his head low, mindful to keep his eyes on the 'two' Vorlons. He was well aware that Vorlons shared some kind of connection, possibly a low level hivemind, yet remaining singular people. He still addressed, he supposed, the hivemind of the Vorlons. He was as of yet unsure of this, his knowledge and experience was more exotic than most, but even it had its limits.

***

"Amazonian Vessels, telemetry as follows, Landing zone has been readied. If you have any special requirements for your entourage, please do not hesitate to advise our diplomatic staff. Welcome to Sparkind, and as representative of the Sparkind city of Tanis, I hope you have a pleasant stay." Keel broadcast, instructing the stealth satellite to continue monitoring the larger craft. Any information he could obtain about those behemoths in orbit would be appreciated greatly by Intel. And the fact that he wanted to know immediately of any... Overt action taken by the ships.
It wasn't that he didn't trust them, it was that his responsibilities made him very protective. To the point of paranoia.

[OOC: Nice work, Sparkind. What was your original nation's name? And what tech level do you play at? Are you a Modern Tech (note: the definition of Modern Tech varies upon individual, see this thread (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=494339) for details) nation, or a future-tech nation where you have an interstellar empire? Or are you multi-tech, like The Freethinkers? Anyway, this is interesting, and I shall be watching thise thread.]

OOC: I first made a nation in 2002, May. I remember nations that no longer exist. Zero One; for instance, and the S14 incident. I wonder how many remember the old nationstates website? The turnover to jolt's new servers... I remember them. It's kind of crazy. I recognise Auto-Mag Freek. But then, who doesn't? He's kind of impressive.

Officially, Sparkind is at a level of technology roughly equal to a hundred years older than present, in certain areas. However, there are no high powered futuristic weaponry, FTL capability, or unprecedented technology that gives them an edge over other nations. They are a people very much at the beginning of their foray into the world. Space exploration is secondary to the survival of the race.

Anyway. Technology level is as realistic as possible. As in, chemical propellant weapons still exist, and are much easier to produce than pulse lasers, wheeled vehicles exist because antigravity engines are expensive, as the infrastructure (or demand) for that level of technology doesn't exist, definitely not considering the war that had almost consumed Sparkind. Mass production, but of modern weaponry, with a few refinements and adjustments. The major leap forward was in communications, computer technology, and biotechnology. Half during the years of Corpwars, and the other half from the Reclamation.
Accordingly, there are major technological leaps - biotech marvels - man machine interfaces, neural interlinks, biotech armour suits, biotech reclamators. Nothing so incredible that it gives them a huge advantage over anyone else; just enough to get their home running again.

The AI also come across as the best feature. They are not cool and calculating to a fault. Just look at Keel. He's a good example. They calculate, they rationalise, but that is not the end of it. The creators of AI had wanted them to be as perfectly subservient as possible. They succeeded and failed, spectacularly. Asimov's (revised) laws applied to earlier AI, and AI still use those laws. They preserve humanity, themselves, and concede that humanity are the masters. They just interpret them in a different manner.

Oh, and if you're wondering about West... He's what he is. That's all I am willing to say.

Just so everyone's clear, I write my roleplays with a story in mind, a long term objective. I like continuity and detail, and entertainment. Not just for myself. I want to entertain people with this nation, not just be a nation.

"In the white room, with black curtains, near the stations." Wah wah wah wah wah wah wah wah wah wah wah wah. I don't know the rest.

The CNS Alexander (which strangely enough looks like a Battlestar but isn't, I just have no originality) has in space for a long long time. Like, real long. Its mission was strangely like the Enterprise's mission... screw it is its mission. Five years to explore the great unknown making diplomatic ties inside a large ship that can destroy worlds twenty five times over, I think. Now usually this the part that the person give stats on the ship and how it works and the kinds of weapons well...

... I don't know that stuff.

But I know that it has nuclear weapons that would replicate after they're fired. And point defense lasers that are basically like phasers, but they fire faster and they're more powerful. And stuff. Now I don't know how many of these there are but I will say this, there's enough. Oh and it's 810 meters long.

Its leader was Admiral James Watson. He was one of the twelve (seriously it's not the Battlestar) Admirals that were chosen to pilot these twelve battlecruisers. He was a young person, in his thirties, hell the Cassiopeian Navy wanted them young. He had a tan like most Cassiopeians and his eyes were brown and hair black... like most Cassiopeians. His uniform was white, like that of a US Admiral. I mean sure they could have futuristic skin tight uniforms but, why ruin a good thing?

The whole crew were bored out of their mind today, some of them listened to Cream to entertain themselves. Others played cards, and others even... read. I know amazing, right? James couldn't have that luxury though, he had to sit on the Chair(TM) and watch the giant plasma LED screen to see if anything would come up, then, the Message. (But not the rap song by Grandmaster Flash and Furious Five... granted it's a good rap song, right?)

James raised his brow. "Oh shhh!" He shouted, since lo, he was falling asleep. "We gots a message, Hanson, what's it say?"

Hanson (who was the Communications Officer) played the message for him.

You are cordially invited to attend a public forum in the Commonwealth of Sparkind.

If you have recieved this invitation, this is a request for an entourage of your nation to attend the public forum to be commenced on our soil, in the city of Tanis. Please note that this is a chance for many nations to voice their varied allegiances, woes, ideas, and criticisms. There are no strings attached, but we would be quite happy indeed if you would consider joining us.

If you have any questions, or requests of us, please contact us with details and requirements.

We feel especially encumbent to note that there may be groups present that you, or your allies, are in contest with. For this reason, we remind you that Sparkind territory is neutral ground, and we ask for your tolerance and patience in this case.

We look forward to seeing you!

Sincerely, the Administration and Internation Relations Branch of the Commonwealth of Sparkind.

James stroked his chin and stood up. "Take us to warp/hyperspace! We shall go there and make friends!" He pointed his index finger at the screen. "Go! Go and take us to the far reaches of space!"

And lo, the ship went to warp and the Admiral fell down because who the hell stands up when the ship is going really really really fast? James does, apparently. "Ow!" See? See how he fell down?

The ship appeared above Sparkind and started scanning with its... scanning devices and whatnot. The Admiral decided to send a message.

To: The Commonwealth of Sparkind
From: CNS Alexander

Hello there. We are the DontPissUsOff class Battlecruiser, CNS
Alexander. I am Admiral James Watson of the large ship above you, we
come in peace. We represent the Cassiopeian Commonwealth. We're a small
nation of seven planets (with one or two and a few moons being settled) and
we wish to have diplomatic relations.

If you allow us, me and two Marines would like to go down there via shuttle
to this meeting.

We will wait for your response.

James pressed send, for lo, we still have send buttons. "You think that was too formal?" He asked Hanson.

Hanson shrugged. "Nah. Now let us riverdance!"

(Hi! Okay I know it says Galaxy but a friend of mine lent me this to roleplay with. In actuality I only own a system. Also the ship I sent has a lack of stats on purpose, it's a plot device more than anything. Also I'm sorry if the post was too informal, but I like joking around and whatnot. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it. By the way my tech is a mix of hard and soft sci fi... but I focus more on writing since I'm not physicist.)

OOC: Sadly, very sadly, i do not have a nation that can respond to your call, all of my many national personas are either too disinterested, too far away, or too out of touch to take notice. That said you RP is admirable and your goal equally so, i would feel bad if i added nothing, no matter how trifling.

IC: Even on the outskirts of the galaxy, to the keen ear, space buzzes with the chatter of thousands of civilization, billions of transmissions whipping through space in all directions, blasted out in the hopes of contact, rescue, money, long term tracking endowment mortgages. Much of it, despite its mutlifareous nature was of no interest however one small signal caught Crassuss' attention.

"You are cordially invited to attend a public forum in the Commonwealth of Sparkind.

If you have recieved this invitation, this is a request for an entourage of your nation to attend the public forum to be commenced on our soil, in the city of Tanis. Please note that this is a chance for many nations to voice their varied allegiances, woes, ideas, and criticisms. There are no strings attached, but we would be quite happy indeed if you would consider joining us.

If you have any questions, or requests of us, please contact us with details and requirements.

We feel especially encumbent to note that there may be groups present that you, or your allies, are in contest with. For this reason, we remind you that Sparkind territory is neutral ground, and we ask for your tolerance and patience in this case.

We look forward to seeing you!

Sincerely, the Administration and Internation Relations Branch of the Commonwealth of Sparkind."

Whistfully Crassuss considered the fate of "Sparkind" the message must be 50'000 years old by now at least probably more. Did Sparkind still exist ? A human nation, without AI to guide it, he doubted it. How ironic, he had left earth just 47 years previous to the messages authorship, the curious situations faster than light travel presented.

Centuries like this, he almost regretted leaving it all behind.

((Welcome! And I enjoy humour, irony, and all other forms of mental torture. I made this for the IDEA of lots of people joining. See you in game, friend.))

The Cassiopean message filtered down through the atmosphere, and Keel responded accordingly, noting with bemusement the grammatical error and then with less humour sheer size of the (not-battlestar-yet-disturbingly-battlestarish-like) CNS Alexander, and did what could be described as a nervous titter. The stealth satellite had been monitoring the other vessels when the monster inexplicably appeared. Keel was an avid science fiction/scientific expert, and concluded some sort of muted FTL or dimension-warp drive, as well as calculating the scary amount of firepower the ship possessed. There had always been knowledge that some nations (spacefaring) would possess incredible technology, and the ability to annihilate Sparkind like an afterthought, but actually facing that reality was a far removal from knowing about the possibility.

"CNS Alexander, and Admiral James Watson, your request to land is granted. Telemetry and possible atmospheric entry vectors follow this transmission. As representative of Tanis, and, through special diplomatic ties, Sparkind, I welcome you to our nation. If you have any special requirements for your accomodation, please do not hesitate to ask our diplomatic entourage." Keel alerted more teams to the incoming arrival, and opened yet another landing zone. Central had warned it would be like this - a flux of sorts, moments of copious activity followed by a drought, and repeat. Keel had promised to fulfil his responsibilities, all of them. And he'd damn well deliver.

Consulting the schedule, he began to deliver messages to the Convention centre, the surrounding infrastructure, and then to Central itself. It was small, almost inconsequential in its digital size.
But priceless in importance.

From: Tanis CivMan AI: Keel
To: Sparkind Central AI

It has begun.

"Lean wit' it! (Rock wit' it) Lean wit' it! (Rock wit' it)" Said the speakers as it blasted a D4L (or is it DFB?) song. Bah they're all the same.

"Sir!" Hanson shouted. "We got a reply!"

James who was doing that jigaboo snap dancin' was distracted. "What now?"

Hanson shouted louder. "WE GOT A REPLY! WHORE."

James stopped and the music silenced, how I have no idea but... it did silent. "Oh... why didn't you tell me? What does it say?"

Hanson sighed. "It says that you can land now, there are coordinates too. Mind if I ready a shuttle and send two Marines over there? Granted you're gonna have to drive it since we need all our pilots here incase some idiot with doom daggers come. Plus well, it'd be great for the story to have an Admiral pilot a shuttle."

James nodded. "Very well! Ready my ship." He looked at his Commander. "Matthew." For lo that was his name. "You are now in charge of this ship, if anybody threatens us, don't be afraid to blow them up. Oh and use diplomacy first etc etc."

Matthew nodded.

James left the bridge and headed to the really long part of the ship, you know the pods? Yah he went there. It was quite an interesting sight you know. There were many fighters housed, workers cleaning and fixing. Marines trying to get laid with random women but they get slapped because it's sexual harrassment and if they continue they can get sued and lose all their cash and then they end up homeless in the street so they become a prostitute but then they get some strange sexual disease and they try to cure it and it doesn't work and so they die lonely on the streets and their bodies become wood for for other hobos so they can make a fire...

... and stuff.

Of course that isn't the subject for today is it? Nein, for lo the Admiral was gonna go to the surface of a foreign planet for the first time. He approached the shuttle (http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a354/nihongaz/cricketclass.jpg) which dispite the picture, is actually 20 meters wide. And it doesn't have that orange bird thing, it's all silver.

Outside were two Marines who had US Army uniforms, except it looked more futuristic and could protect against lasers obviously. Their weapon, which they had in hand, strangely looked and functioned like the E-11 Blaster Rifle... but isn't! They saluted him with the old (well ancient) school Roman salute. He saluted back. "I'm gonna be driving this, don't worry. Just keep me safe."

One of the Marines scratched his errm... helmet. "Doesn't he have a pilot?"

The second Marine smacked him. "Idiot, it adds to the hilarity of the story since the Admiral is driving it!"

"Ooooh." The first said.

The group of three entered the shuttle, and lo, it took off gloriously from the ship. Gliding in space looking majestic and whatnot, the Admiral driving and the Marines doing random things that I can't think of because I'm not that good of a writer. But then, it landed on the pad... thing.

James and his escort of two Marines stepped down from the shuttle using the stairs that most ships have. He smiled ('cause you gotta look good) while the two Marines behind him looked tough, weapons in hand. He started to speak. I would say he shook his/her hand but I don't know if it is an AI robot that would greet the Admiral or a human. Yes I read the post but I don't know what's in your head. Whatever, let's begin.

... probably human anyway.

"Hello." He said. "I am Admiral James Watson of the CNS Alexander. I represent the the Cassiopeian Commonwealth. I come in peace, do not mind the two soldiers behind me. They come only for my protection. When will this meeting begin?"

The Diplomatic officer grasped the Admiral's arm firmly and shook, and smiled with warmth like sunlight, eyes gliding over the sight of the marines in full regalia. The officer was garbed in a business suit, tie, and was flanked by aides, couriers, and two Tansec officers in their white powered armour, looking like tall, overly muscular hulks, each cradling an almost toy-like submachine gun, snubnosed and vicious looking black HMP 9s.

"Welcome to Tanis, Admiral Watson. I and my associates will accompany you to your accomodation, and act as your liason during your stay. If you require anything, please do not hesitate to ask." Said the officer, all smiles and calm demeanour, finishing his little speech just as the AI driven sedan pulled up behind the small congregation.

One of the Marines looked up at the TarSec Security Officers. Oh shhh. He thought. We need that.

I know right? The other Marine replied mentally. We'd look frickin' awesome running around and scaring people, eh?

The first blinked his eyes. Dude since when did you get PMS?

Agh. James replied. It's EMP! Or somethin', now shut up we don't have these kinds of powers, the author is just too lazy and unoriginal. Also he should stop doing the same joke over and over, it's annoying.

He probably won't stop. The second Marine replied.

The Admiral shrugged. Meh, anyway we all know we're not EMP capable, this is just some filler for the author. Now then, let's continue. And lo he did.

He shook the officer's hand. "Thank you. I'll ask if needed." He saw the sedan pull into the back of them, the group of three entered and waited for the Tarisan envoy to enter. Meanwhile James was trying to look for the driver, not realizing that the entire planet was run by robots, I know they're AI but meh so there.

One of the Marines nodded his head approvingly. "Fancy, just like at home. No airways clogging up the skies, not like that planet... errm what's it called?"

The other one answered. "I don't know, but apparently most foreign planets have like the sky black because these flying cars take up the sky. No idea why, I find hovercars just as fine."

The first shrugged.

James sighed and leaned into his chair happily. "Hell all I know is that they aren't here to kill us, and I support this."

The first Marine smiled. "And they don't have those doom daggers."

The second playfully punched the first as he laughed at his comment. "Quite."

(I assume the envoy is gonna join, because I'd like for our respective representives to have small talk >_>)

OOC: Zero-One (though not 01) and S14 still exist. The former’s fairly active in RP, too. The player of both is most definitely still around…. ICness:

The first Vorlon looked to the other in an expression that could perhaps be considered conspiratorial or confused, its eyepiece narrowing. The purple one looked at West, and nodded its head. It was uncertain what meaning this gesture had, though, perhaps a nod of respect, or perhaps one of acknowledgement. The first Vorlon flexed the nozzles on either side of the top of its suit, as if inhaling, they resembled something from a sea creature, an octopus, perhaps. It looked over West’s shoulder, apparently keen to be off.

The hive-mind of the Vorlons was in a certain manner extant, and yet in another, quite non-existant.

OOC: Really? Zero-One's still around? S14 was a puppet state used for a certain roleplay. Brilliant. It was in archives. Oh well. Interesting.

Just for further reference, I'm going to combine posts where possible to save space and such. IC Doooom:

West expected as much, his face was a mask, no exasperation or disappointment shone through, that he dearly wanted to show them. Oh well. Another avenue of the past shut down. For now.

"Onto formalities, I suppose. I welcome you as one of many diplomatic representatives of Sparkind. We have provided adequate accomodation for you, with as close as possible atmospheric mix for your species. If you have any requests, do not hesitate to ask us. I thank you for attending."

A flatbed transport growled up to park beside the Vorlon transport, this time; a wide wheeled military truck, with a folding ramp. It was impossible for the Vorlons to sit - or, at least, West had never seen one languishing in an armchair - so West had requested that the truck have no adornments other than handrails for human occupants. Two of the diplomatic staff unfolded the ramp and tested it, whilst the others were a flurry of communications - arrangements, valet parking for a widewheel, requesting Vorlon-safe menus... Ah, diplomacy.

West did have a sneaking suspicion that the rather alien ambassadors would consider the truck some kind of produce transport, herding them. To that idea, he'd had the truck painted white, and the Sparkind emblem stenciled onto the bonnet, both sides, and its interior cleaned. It actually looked official, possibly for the first time ever.

“After you.” He bowed his head, and gestured to the truck.

~~~

OOC: Aye, Cassiopea. It wouldn't be a diplomatic mission if there wasn't carefully veiled interrogations. And for future reference, the only time you will see a physical manifestation of an AI would be hoverdrones, or Avatars. IC Doooomage:

"If your men and yourself would please get in? We'll take you to your lodgings." The diplomat opened the sedan's door, and ushered the trio inside. The TanSec members clambered aboard a flatbed truck behind the sedan, and the rest of the diplomatic team piled into another sedan.

The trip could only be described as smooth, the engine a barely audible purr inside the comfortable car. The diplomat smiled beatifically and iniated a brief tour of Tanis.

"Tanis is a polder city - at its deepest point one hundred metres below sea level. The Barrier holds the Ring lake at bay. The lake is... Technically artificial. Tanis was destroyed in a nuclear strike, forty years ago. Oh, don't worry, the radiation levels are at nominal, thanks to the Reclamation project. After the AI Silent War, we began to rebuild, revitalise. There's a lot of damage, still, but within the next generation or so, we hope to populate the wastelands. A full seventy five percent of the planet was rendered uninhabitable thanks to the Corporation Wars. The worst kind of atrocities committed by humanity, in the name of profit or idealogical superiority." The diplomat sounded solemn, disappointed. Either he was an exceptional actor, or he really was depressed about the past state of affairs.

"But now, after the Subsumption, we work to repair our home. Tanis is just one example of the Reclamation Project's success. The city is a major trading hub, for most land based and air based freight. The plan is to extend the city to the coastline, or, cut a channel to the coast. In time, in time. Anyway, there's practically every institution, business, or service available here. You'll be staying at the Villas to the North, up in the hills.” Hills. Technically, higher up the crater wall, but the illusion was the same.
Silence as the sedan traveled further out of the city, buildings falling away behind and below as the car rose further up the crater wall.

“So, please, Admiral, tell me about your world.” Inquired the diplomat, settling into the seats, whilst activating his recording implants, and gesturing to the refreshments laid out on the small table between them. Nothing too impressive, just some of the Pearl shrimp bred in the lake farms, dried and shelled. Considered a delicacy, their flesh was vaguely sweet, and had the texture of chicken. There were several choices of beverage, ranging from carbonated to alcoholic. It was the Admiral's discretion as to choice.

The Admiral's eyes widened. "Nuclear blasts? We have... billions of tons of uranium. Uranium powers almost everything, well, minus the ships, in the Commonwealth. Hell even the cars are powered by nuclear reactors. But we never nuked ourselves. Granted most of the ships in the Navy can destroy a world a million times over."

He paused. "But you want to know about Rosanica, well... see our homeworld is called Rosanica. I know it's called the Cassiopeian Commonwealth, but Rosanica is the main world. I think there's an old wive's tale that the first world said in the system was Cassiopeia... I guess the lady or man was shocked. Hell I know. Anyway we're colonists from Terra I think it's called, and we found this world, Rosanica. It's a water world, the only land being a large island where everybody lives and-"

A Marine interejected. "-and that creepy archipelathing where people keep dieing."

James smacked the Marine. "Hush you!" He shouted. "Errrm... well, yah there is an archipelago. See, to build houses we had to use this yellow material, we had no wood or brick or cement. And there's plenty of it over there, but when we tried to get it we died most of the time. Of course now we can mine it from the ocean and whatnot but still. Anywho our holdings outside Rosanica are small, a mere system. Other governments control sectors or even entire galaxies, a mess I suppose. They know we exist, but we don't make it so... out there."

The second Marine snickered. "... I'm surprised nobody's tried to invade you guys yet."

The first smacked him. "Ow." The second said.

James sighed. "... anywho. They're right you know, there are hostile nations out there. But some trickery and bluffs can solve that problem, or an overwhelming nuclear stockpile. We're peaceful guys don't worry, we don't want war. But we can sure as hell woop some if need be."

The first Marine jumped around in his chair. "Hell yah we can go waaaaaaaah and kill them!"

"Heh." James said. "Also most navies seem to use lasers... or at least that's what I learned. Ours, as you may have noticed already, uses a mix of lasers and nuclear missiles. But they're very nice nuclear missiles. But back to you, how did these wars start? And how do these... "AI" have anything do with the wars?"

Ulkesh looked at his companion and then at the white… produce vehicle that they were apparently expected to use as a transport. He wasn’t entirely sure whether or not it was a calculated insult or not. It occurred to him that while encounter suits were capable of bending at the waist, Vorlons generally didn’t do so – encounter suits were designed to be intimidating to outsiders, and that effect was lost if one sat down inside one; it looked rather comical by most standards, and spoiled the illusion of ‘seamless robes’ in doing so.

He slid over the floor and up the ramp. His compatriot seemed eager to rub the point in, and bowed slightly to West before mounting up in the same transport.

OOC: Yah, Scolopendra/Zero-One’s still around, and uses S14 occasionally. Though I only really know because I’m the neighbour of the space-ants on Venus…

And yeah, they can sort of bend at the hips. Only noticed the other day, watching Kosh bow to Sinclair, which has to be an intentional direction. So, presumably they can sit. But they’d look really stupid doing it.

*Snip*

"Amazonian Vessels, telemetry as follows, Landing zone has been readied. If you have any special requirements for your entourage, please do not hesitate to advise our diplomatic staff. Welcome to Sparkind, and as representative of the Sparkind city of Tanis, I hope you have a pleasant stay." Keel broadcast, instructing the stealth satellite to continue monitoring the larger craft. Any information he could obtain about those behemoths in orbit would be appreciated greatly by Intel. And the fact that he wanted to know immediately of any... Overt action taken by the ships.
It wasn't that he didn't trust them, it was that his responsibilities made him very protective. To the point of paranoia.

OOC: Sorry 'bout the posting delay.

IC:
"Copy Control, inbound vector set. No requirements necessary, we'll see you on the ground."

The lieutenant switched off the comm channel as the bridge negotiated the flight manuevers through the turbulent atmosphere for landing. The corvettes fired their repulsor engines now, used for low-level manuevering, as the fighter escort, the other corvettes already pulling back to space, came down beside the corvettes. Centering on the landing pads, the twin corvettes deployed landing studs, jetting bursts of atmosphere from their pressurized bulkheads as the large ships came down to a halt on the runway. The fighters surrounded the ships, their small frames parking easily on the broad surface of the landing strip.
Coming out from the twin corvettes, debarking ramps deployed from the cruisers' midsections, slanting down to the ground, about 6 meters long. First out were several war droids from each cruiser, lithe, menacing, gun-fitted automatons that curved their bodies in deadly fashion, lining the sides of the ramps in preperation for the next group of disembarkers, gun-arms down, triple legs clacking on the metal ramp. Their finely-tuned processors knew not to engage hostilities, but were prepared to respond to the slightest move of aggressiveness with a hail of blue energy bolts. Next off came several tall humans, clad in heavy refracting armor, gleaming white battle helmets, emblazened red burns of the Shock Troopers concealing the soldiers' identities. They toted long plasma-bolt rifles across their shoulders, the troops perfectly in step, doing their perfect duty. Finally, one from each corvette, the real heads disembarked. From the lead corvette strode Naga Sadow, the powerful lord swirling in a loose garment of grey and night blue, his yellow eyes darting around the open world before him, looking over his droids and soldiers standing to his sides, the honor guard. From the following corvette came Marka Ragnos, the elegant warrior swathed in a swirling cloak of total black, his head sticking out from above the cloak's top, standing erect and solid, towering over the already-tall (by normal human standards) Shock troopers and War droids. He gracefully trode down to the bottom of the ramp and over to Sadow at the first corvette, his soldiers and droids following behind and flanking the two Dark Apprentices, waiting for the response corps

"Time to wait for the welcoming committee," Ragnos mouthed, "hopefully all will go well."
"For their sake, it ought," Sadow shot back, "it didn't for those ambassadors on Kelto'on."
"Yes, let's try not to make such a mess of things this time," Ragnos responded neutrally, "diplomatically and physically."
"True, true. I'd hate to spoil freshly cleaned rooms with a spattering or three of blood," Sadow said slightly sarcastically. On the other hand, he was perfectly true.

((For Casiopeia))

The Diplomat looked at the Admiral carefully. "The Corpwars started thanks to our ideas of economic fluidity and fairness. Because of the equity we enforced upon certain sized corporations within our nation, we managed to create behemoths of economic power. We developed the laws to ensure no one corporation or business venture would achieve dominion, thereby creating a stable, yet constantly changing economy, to thrive within. It truly was a buyer's market.
"Which is where it began. It allowed them to plateau, escalate... Soon, the corporations were countries unto themselves. They slipped their tendrils into the government, soon controlling that, too, in their endless war for profit. Soon, the Civil Security laws were passed, allowing those corporations the ability to recruit their own private armies, to defend against 'terrorism'.
"They controlled everything, every city, every continent, waging private battles, in the boardroom, and on the streets. Soon... It became less than private. You were recruited for a certain corporation or you were condemned to poverty. They redrew the national borders, and set citizen on citizen.
"Where government could not engage in nuclear war, there was no such hesitation for the corporations. Tanis was destroyed because of its infrastructure, and alignment. Hundreds of thousands dead to to affect a profit margin.
"Sparkind, (then the Non Aligned States), was insane. Noone could see an end to the destructive potential, the wars."
"Then the AI stepped in. They managed food production, ammunition processing, resource management, civil transport, military transport, communications. They simply stepped in and froze the assets of the corporations at the top, and continued to do so for each and every echelon of power. They threw us back into chaos. And delivered an ultimatum.
"Stop the fighting. Or we will wait patiently whilst you self destruct." The diplomat turned, looking out the window.

"Many refused to secede. They were starved or cut off. We'd managed hack off our own limbs and neuter ourselves."
"We call that era the Corpwars, and the time in which the AI subsumed humanity, The Silent War."

~~~

((For Ulkesh: Yeah. Vorlons are the best at mindgames. I just bought all seasons of B5 the other day, so I was ecstatic to have Vorlons participating, and your choice of names makes me highly wary.))

West observed the bow and frowned. The robes didn't hitch up as it leant forwards. They stretched... Odd. The rest of the entourage either climbed aboard also, or waited for an envoy car.

"I apologise for the impromptu transport, Ambassador. There aren't many vehicles capable of carrying Vorlons without considerable redesign." West stared at the eyepiece of the tan Vorlon, gripping the handrail as the flatbed pulled away at a steady acceleration, rumbling over the newly sealed tarmac. West caught one of the diplomatic staff using high grade ocular implants to decode the jamming the encounter suits emitted, creating the illusion of seamless connection with the ground. It would avail him none. Vorlons liked being mysterious, and enjoyed the delphic ambiguity the suits afforded them.

~~~

((For Amazonian Beasts))

The truck came to a growling halt behind the black sedan, both disgorging the smooth velvet black of diplomatic staff, and the heavy ceramic white of the battle armour, clutching their toylike Repeaters to their armoured chests, faceless and seemingly opaque helmets watching the war droids with the attention of a predator watching a fellow predator. They paid less notice to the shock troopers, perhaps in error, but next to the vicious-looking war droids, they looked decidely less than menacing. The guns over their shoulders, however, set half the team on edge, even in electromuscle, they were decidely nervous. Facing the two representatives of Amazonia, could one blame them? The firepower present, not including the corvettes and fighters, was more than enough to decimate them.

Pierson did not like the show of force. It made hers look less than impressive, and screamed of paranoia. She unclasped the helmet and walked torwards the diplomatic representative, twisting her Repeater back and behind her, black strap taut against the dazzling white armour. She would need to reassure them of their peaceful intentions, as well as convince them they weren't weak and foolish.

"On behalf of the Commonwealth of Sparkind, we welcome you to our fair city of Tanis. I will -" Began the representative, before Pierson laid a heavy hand upon his shoulder.

She looked at the two tall humans, slightly taller, thanks to the battle armour, and eyed them both severely. Behind her, the diplomatic staff cringed and her squad queried her for orders via her uplink. An urgent uplink request from Keel, an insistent, incredulous warning in her mind.
"Keep alert, but do not make any sudden overt moves. The most dangerous opponent isn't the one openly wearing weapons." She replied, formulating a greeting which wouldn't get her killed.

"My name is Pierson, I am the Chief of Security and Emergency Services here in Tanis city. I journeyed out here with my personal squad to impress and convince you of the need for peace and security. I promised my department that there would be no need for them during this forum. I planned to stay in the sidelines and not get involved unless absolutely necessary. You've made me realise that I don't have that luxury. I come before you, as the representative of Sparkind. Possibly the only one you'll understand. I come before you, weapon at my back, at a disadvantage, a surprising similarity to my city, my nation." She shifted her weight, and settled her severe gaze upon their entourage, and waved an armour shod hand dismissively in that direction, twisting her gaze back to the two representatives.

"I will accompany you personally throughout this entire forum. You have my word, that you will be safe. You have my word that I will do everything in my power to make your stay comfortable, your time here memorable. But I cannot allow all your troops and especially your machines any further. If there is anything present here in Tanis, that requires this much firepower, we would not have held the forum here." Her smile was ironic, pessimistic. She wasn't joking. She wouldn't be playing ambassador, she'd be coordinating battles.

"Can you understand my position, ambassadors?"

The vorlon seemed to look around its accomodation for a moment as West spoke, and then looked at him again, deciding to speak. Its voice wasn't intelligable, but rather, it seemed to be the sound of a number of communication organs acting at once, some close to bells, others, more like the sound of wind blowing over the narrow neck of a half filled bottle, whistling emptily, and behind these, was the slight impression of tonal human-sounding voices. A second later, the translation device joined this cocophany, and the reply came out in a deep voice. "The road exists to serve the city," it said, and turned its head to look at its comrade, who had moved over towards the front of the flat-bed, and seemed to be perched up at the front as though it were a charioteer in some ancient race. Perhaps it was interested in the view.

"Direct, vague, and ambiguous. I'm seeing a trend here." Interjected Keel, Who was monitoring the other situation with a level of trepidation approaching pure horror...

~~~

Let it be known that although AI are generally considered to be above petty human squabbles and emotions, Sparkind AI weren't. At all.

"What the Fuck are you doing, Pierson?!" Screeched Keel into the ether, encountering an uplink lockout designed specifically for him in mind. Which further infuriated him. He raged, he ranted, and considered demoting her to janitor. In the fusion reactors. On the Weather Station, at the southern pole.

Ulkesh turned his head over toward the left, as they passed close to the Amazonian Beasts. It wasn’t very easy for a Vorlon to convey emotion, but this one seemed to be feeling something.

Quite what that thing was would be harder to say. Perhaps it was irritated, or perhaps it was amused. Perhaps it was capable of such ambivalence that it could be both simultaneously.

It looked at its companion, who turned around, they stared at one another for a few moments. The purple one spoke, its voice was lower than its companion’s, the designs on its chest lighting rhythmically with its words. “We wish to see,” it said.

The other Vorlon ambassador picked up Ulkesh’s sentence part way through, “the other arrival.”

West grimaced, requested on reflex a live feed from the Amazonian landing zone. And then considered an answer that wouldn't end up giving him more mysteries to consider. He knew, either way, their already delphic minds were made up. Not even the battlesuited security personnel could really stop them, if they wanted to get somewhere. But he'd have to consider the possible fallout from such a request.

He sent to Keel that message and stalled for time.

'Why?"

OOC: Apologies for the absence, I’ve had coursework to do, and after that, not been in the mood for any NS posting. Anyway…

The Vorlon seemed to have an answer that was to it, as plain as day, “We have always been there,” it said as it turned away again, its violet cloak billowing a little as it did so. The first – ochre and brown – Vorlon nodded solemnly as this pronouncement, as though it were the Truth.

And it was

For a certain value of true

It was also a pretty bizarre answer

About normal for Vorlons…

Valiantly resisting the oh so tempting urge to throttle the delphic alien, West held his breath for a moment, and then resignedly signaled the convoy to turn, ordering the Security team accompanying the convoy to break off and stay back, until called for.

"As you wish, but I would ask you to not inflame relations with them... This planet is incapable of truly resisting a full scale assault. As well you know." West gripped the handhold tighter, and sent a message to Pierson.
When he did not receive a reply, he swore under his breath again, and messaged the diplomat responsible, and received a concise report from the man, the underlying nervousness setting alarm bells in West's mind ringing.

"Keel, what's the situation?"

The reply was a description of an impossible sexual act using the prickly fruit of a bromeliad.

And who says AI don't have a sense of humour? Chuckled a treacherous voice in his head.