NationStates Jolt Archive

((OOC: This takes place a few months after this (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=508776) thread. Though to be fair, I'll pretend it wasn't British Londinium's colonies I conquered, and merely that of some rebel rabble.))

It was just three months after the Craftworlds triumphant victory over the humans that populated that isolated system on the fringe of the galaxy. The war had bolstered the Craftworld's morale and silenced the nay-sayers, those opposed to the Eldar's return to the Milky Way as well as boosting Farseer Tereah's own popularity and confidence.

As a gesture of good will, the Eldar allowed the humans of the planets they conquered to live, having the foresight to know that they would be useful eventually. But now, with the martial appetite of Ra-Ithen satisfied, the Seer Council decreed it was time to go back to what they did best: Manipulating the Mon-Keigh of the universe.

They needed allies, they needed a vanguard, they needed meat shields. With all records of their aggression in the past few months thoroughly erased or altered, the Seers were confident it would be an easy task. After all, whom wouldn't feel a tad bit of sympathy for the refuge population? (Aside from the foul servants of Chaos, of course.)

And so, the monolithic Craftworld broadcasted a message for the entire galaxy to read....


To any that would extend their hands in friendship...we, the people of Ra-Ithen are in a rather precarious position. We have only recently returned to the Milky Way, and we have found it's inhabitants rather....hostile. We do not have the numbers to hold back the powers that wish to destroy our kind alone. Henceforth, we are requested diplomacy. We wish for allies, for trade, diplomacy and friendship.

We do hope that there is a power benevolent enough at there to help us...

((OC- Almost seems crafted to get my attention. =^^= ))

---

":: We got another one Milady. ::"

Lady Seto simply returned to her office, her wrist holovid comm giving view of the First Contact Sector commander of a new Comm-Orb signal pickup.

"Feed me it in my office in a moment."

":: Already doing... ::"

Seto liked this guy, it was good to have the cogs in good order. The Comm-Orb Administrators seemed to have fixed their mess from the Tir mission. She was still waiting on the initial report, but that didn't stop other diplomatic events flurrying to her attention.

:: ~ To any that would extend their hands in friendship...we, the people of Ra-Ithen are in a rather precarious position. We have only recently returned to the Milky Way, and we have found it's inhabitants rather....hostile. We do not have the numbers to hold back the powers that wish to destroy our kind alone. Henceforth, we are requested diplomacy. We wish for allies, for trade, diplomacy and friendship.

We do hope that there is a power benevolent enough at there to help us... ~ ::

Seto rubbed her chin.

A second vid is brought up from the Archives. "Bring me the data on recent MWCG events, concerning Ra-Ithen. The most recent Orb data.

I need to check something."

":: Aye ma`am. ::" ...an on duty aide replied. The vast holographic information archive, a repository of about any needed data for the past two hundred years, compressed or otherwise, would have something she seeked.

Her mind was itching with a worry.

She meanwhile brought up the First Contact commander again. "Prepare this message through the network. In this exact way please."

----

A few days later through the vast distances between Archonis and Virgo SCs...

:: ~ You are heard. We presume to be benevolent, but we will judge further through demonstration of trust. Our information network is checking the truth of a matter that merits attention in this matter.

Nevertheless, we do not turn blind regardless, and we will send an envoy in a couple of days. Where will be by your decision for us to follow.

Regards,

Lady Seto Kamiki
Gaian Prime Foreign Advisor ~ ::

The message arrives through the network from the Confederacy territory in MWCG, where the recipients pick it up is unknown for the most part at present.

OOC: What the heck I will bite…


IC:

The Imperial Star Navy had already begun to send more fleets into this dimension. One of these fleets was controlled by Star Admiral Nathar Venca an old school Deatharon commander. He refused to acknowledge the Imperial Star Commonwealth and referred to the new Deatharon state as the New Grand Eternal Imperium of Deatharon.

His way of thinking was one in the minority but it had a strong support among many of the Deatharons that were young soldiers back in the days of the fall. This Fleet was about three hundred ships in number and their orders were to explore this part of the Milky Way Galaxy.

The message was intercepted by the ever searching sensors of the Imperial Battleship that controlled the rest of the fleet.


The Star Adrimal read the report of the message and scoffed. These Ra-Ithen people should have been prepared for such an event. They had entered into a Galaxy of barbaric states that had to be unified and enlightened. They obviously should be educated in the ways of the Milky Way and what better way than through diplomacy.

Star Admiral Nathar Venca had the ship’s A.I. construct a message from the Grand Eternal Imperium.


To: The people Ra-Ithen
From: The Grand Eternal Imperium of Deatharon
Subject: Plea

We have heard your plea. The Grand Eternal Imperium is intrigued and we shall send an ambassadorial team to meet with your chosen representatives.

We hope this is not some sort of trap for we have experienced such treachery before and we will punish you for it.

The Craftworld was already quite pleased with the turn out. The next few weeks would be quite...interesting, especially if the powers they had met did indeed send Emissaries.

:: ~ You are heard. We presume to be benevolent, but we will judge further through demonstration of trust. Our information network is checking the truth of a matter that merits attention in this matter.

Nevertheless, we do not turn blind regardless, and we will send an envoy in a couple of days. Where will be by your decision for us to follow.

Regards,

Lady Seto Kamiki
Gaian Prime Foreign Advisor ~ ::


You should know, in that case that we are but one faction of a once mighty people. The Eldar are now divided into different nations, so please do not let the actions of one sully your image of our own. None the less, we thank you for your generosity and would be pleased to meet with your Representatives.

-Co-ordinates to the Craftworlds location follow-

To: The people Ra-Ithen
From: The Grand Eternal Imperium of Deatharon
Subject: Plea

We have heard your plea. The Grand Eternal Imperium is intrigued and we shall send an ambassadorial team to meet with your chosen representatives.

We hope this is not some sort of trap for we have experienced such treachery before and we will punish you for it.


Oh, don't worry. We are utterly genuine in this matter, and you have nothing to fear. We look forward to meeting your own diplomats, and hope this contact will bring even more prosperity to both our peoples.

:: ~ You should know, in that case that we are but one faction of a once mighty people. The Eldar are now divided into different nations, so please do not let the actions of one sully your image of our own. None the less, we thank you for your generosity and would be pleased to meet with your Representatives.

-Co-ordinates to the Craftworlds location follow- ~ ::

Lady Seto still judged nevertheless, the report of the recent campaign against the Mon-Keigh, but had to admit that such incidents were replete in the MWCG. However after this much time, even well before the Ascendancy existed, it was a wonder these campaigns could keep continuing like this.

Seto imagined the Milky Way was running out of 'playgrounds' to do such things in. It was only a matter of time before the other nations realized this and began to look further into the Virgo Supercluster, where thousands of galaxies lain mostly undisturbed, many other civilizations yet not in conflict. Lifeforms beyond imagination of the humanoid nations (even exotic non-humanoid) of the Milky Way.

Seto chuckled, the other mortal civilizations still had no idea what lain just within a few more steps.

She returned eye to the matter at hand. With the reception of the Craftworld coordinates, she turned matter of who to send. She couldn't go this time, there was too much work with the Trade Conference to leave now. It all weighed on her brow some.

After a bit, she decided to send an interesting duo this time, both as a disarming tactic, as it was to test the new lovers in their dedications. A few flicks of comm buttons got the two on the Shrine planet of Edo.

---

If there was one thing that the Sphere promoted, almost religiously, it was family together activities. A risk in many ways, but families tended, when wished to, could work very well, giving familiarity and trust in situations that could lose such in less tight bonds.

Course it meant too much familiarity at times. In this case. "You ready Nakahito dear?"

The dark haired young lad simply replied from the piloting deck of the Gaf`ren`uar Class Treeship they recently recieved, still not named formally even.. "I will when you get off me Kurumi."

"But we're so close." The (yes) pink haired Steel Angel replied to her husband. Nakahito replied back.. "And the Tree core isn't ready to handle all that yet. I need to focus it."

A sharp yell from across the grass laiden command deck. "You heard him Kurumi. This thing can't pilot itself just yet."

Kuruki glanced over bland gaze at Karinka... "No one said 'you' had to come along Karinka. We're doing quite fine here."

Nakahito still feeling the 'weight' of her bosom well impressed quips. "If you call it that."

Saki just sighs, next to Mikhail. "You sure this is a good idea? we've never done this kind of operation before." ..which to the taller silver haired Steel Angel to her slightly shorter brown haired counterpart. "Probably why I'm here."

Nakahito mentions finally shedding the weight off him in a gentle way befitting his character, and Kurumi's butt. "Well you did help with many of that diplomatic stuff in Corseria for a few years."

"Hope it helps." Karinka imparts, just before Treeship Command gives comm acquisition for the go ahead to depart. Nahakito, the only actual human Gaian present, the owner of the new unamed Hikari Tree, since the Steel Angels with him couldn't Partner with the Tree just yet. Angelic essences weren't as immediately compatible with the Trees, so Nakahito got the extraordinary honor. Ever since begetting the attention of so many Steel Angels at once after a SA sponsored trip to Edo for spiritual training, Kurumi and the others were all over the young bloke.

Now a singular call from Lady Seto herself began to make the young lord wonder what he did to garner such attention. In reality it was Mikhail's hard work during the preparations for Operation Harvest-Corseria that garnered the attention, which an attachment to Nakahito became the hook. Seto liked giving newtypes a trail by fire, and it was a perfect oppritunity in her eyes for such.

As the monolithic Treeship Dock-Yards began to draw away, the vast undersphere of Emerald floating beyond as the entire living uberstructure orbited towards the southern pole. It was a glorius view that made the group fall silent for a moment, as the light of Angellius I & II broke the curve of Emerald's horizon, reflecting off the green-white rings in echo effect.

"Ready when you are Master." Mikhail said over to Nakahito, and a stiff nod is turned to mental concentration towards the new Tree core, a 91st Generation Seed that took a liking to the young Onmyu mystic. with little prodding beyond this, the Treeship arcs past the large commerce network traffic tubes and heads for a traffic controlled Fold point away from other Fold points in and out-going. In a few moments, the small Frigate reaches, and Nakahito pushes concentration for the Craftworld coordinates.

"Hold onto your Mark-hearts."

----

The simple proceedure places an expanding horizon rivet of light outside the coordinates provided, as the single Treeship arrives in short order. What they see probably boggles the mind, human and Steel Angel alike.

The Craftworld hovered in dead silence, in orbit of one of it's recent conquests. Only a few cruisers were on patrol, and they immediately alerted the Craftworld to the unknown ship's presence. As the Eldar were expecting the company, no martial action was taken, rather a message was transmitted to them that had been recorded earlier.

"Ah, you've arrived at last. Feel free to Dock at any of the Craftworld's ports, the Farseer will be waiting."

We greatly desire your friendship, and in that respect, we find ourselves moved to ask, what kind of assistance do you desire precisely?

Elash Mîraglariel, Adjutant of the Elenaran, G. Menelmacar

OOC: No, nothing about C’tans or necrons and such in there, and it should be damn difficult to work out any such thing from farsight, as I’m not out to harm them IC, and won’t do so if they don’t attack me. And maybe even not then. So the runes ought to say, at best: "Ancient evil comes, with fruit baskets and cuddles."

:: ~ "Ah, you've arrived at last. Feel free to Dock at any of the Craftworld's ports, the Farseer will be waiting." ~ ::

The message brought up over vidtext, Mikhail commented.. "We'll, looks like we welcomed."

"Heading on in." Nakahito noted back, making Kurumi giggle yet again. Still the sight of the Craftworld was impressive, reminding them all of the Ascendant Dysan Sphere in a version.

They chose a simple point near the 'equator' to keep it simple, the Treeship looking 'small' in comparison to it's host. They let whatever automated systems place them into a safe dock, and departed soon after.

The beautiful Farseer Tereah (http://img137.imageshack.us/img137/310/farseer1zu6.jpg) was indeed awaiting them, and was escorted by two other powerful Seers as her bodyguards. The Farseer was a warrior, not a diplomat, and felt a bit insulted this duty had been allocated to her, but she had to remain diplomatic.

Approaching them, she curtsied and spoke. "Welcome to Craftworld Ra-Ithen. You honor us with your presence."

Other than Nakahito and the experienced Mikhail, the rest were not really diplomats either. Kurumi managed to act proper, Saki just neutrally passive, Karinka a bit annoyed to be here too, though she looked around with decent interest.

Nakahito just bowed in reverent fashion, looking formal enough in his Onmyu shrine robes, accented in the Gaian diplomatic fashion.

"Thank you. His Excellency extends the same honor through us. We are pleased to be here."

Kurumi beamed a smile behind Nakahito, as Mikhail took the fore. "Shall we begin discussions, unless you wish to give us a tour first? We are at your heed and call at present." ..she put in formal fashion. Underneath she was nervous with this first time on a formal First Contact envoy.

Rena approached the source of the transmission after several days of starbursting and sneaking her way through various territories she usually avoided. The brown hue of her sleek, swept-back, but deceivingly large hull glistened with brilliant blue light as she emerged from her final starburst. She was nervous as usual about travelling to places like this, not to mention the places she had passed through to get here, but in a way she was glad. Finally the Leviathan could rest and recuperate after her long voyage, whilst her occupants went about whatever business they had here. She certainly had enough energy for a few more starbursts if things went awry.

"Attention, we have arrived at our destination, 'Captain' Jaben," the pilot's voice announced across the comms.

Jaben looked up, a smirk creeping across his gruff face. It was time. He'd much rather have arrived here in a Command Carrier than an unarmed Leviathan, not only as a show of strength but as a little bit of protection against whatever they might encounter. But then, such things weren't easily available at the best of times, let alone to people of his stature. He felt a wave of apprehension overcome his previous sense of confidence, as he suddenly realised they were in uncharted lands and trying to strike up a deal with a people he didn't truly understand. But the tone of their communiqué was such that he was sure they would bite, and there was no reason for things to get ugly even if they didn't.

"You are prepared, I assume?" the unmistakably visceral voice of Raelek asked him from behind.

Jaben pondered the question briefly. How could he be prepared for the unknown? They had never had dealings with these people before, nor any of their ilk, so he had no idea what to expect. They probably weren't Sebacean, or even any other species he was familiar with, so he couldn't even begin to guess as to their mannerisms. Still, one could only do one's best in such circumstances.

"Yes, Raelek, I am prepared," Jaben answered at last, in his deep, rough voice. His voice wasn't as imposing as that of the Scarran, certainly, and he could even twist it into charm when he felt it necessary. But it was by no means devoid of confidence or authority.

"Truly?" Raelek asked rhetorically. "I am impressed."

"Listen, Raelek, maybe you should make yourself scarce when we're ready to go ahead with the trade, y'know," Jaben said. "I don't know how much they know of Peacekeeper - Scarran relations, or if they've even heard of the two powers before. But if you do get made, it could make things a lot less convincing."

"Perhaps you are correct Sebacean," Raelek snarled. "What do you suggest? The prisoner rouse, or should I just tuck myself away in one of the neural clusters until we leave?"

"Well I don't think you need to go into hiding," Jaben shook his head. "Nobody's coming aboard, and Rena can hide you from scans. Just... stay aboard and don't roar at anything while we're gone."

The enormous Scarran bowed his mottled, grey-skinned head in agreement. "I shall make a concerted effort to do so. And you?"

"What about me?"

"You will not allow your primitive intellect to fail us again?" Raelek inquired. Jaben could have sworn he saw a smile creep across his face, but he knew the creatures were incapable of such acts. He was no doubt referring to his tendency towards impatience and his bad temper.

"I tell ya what, I'll do so if you agree not to rip anybody's arms off," Jaben said, punching the creature in the arm as hard as he could, which Raelek barely even noticed. "And you don't do that heat thingy."

"Agreed," Raelek said. He returned the playful punch, knocking Jaben clean off his chair.

Jaben immediately rose to his feet again, dusting himself down. "I am more worried about Celesta. She's become progressively worse since the last job we've done."

"In which case, leave her," Raelek suggested. "I shall keep watch over her."

"I can't do that," Jaben said. "No Peacekeeper captain travels unescorted - I need someone to watch my back. You can't do it 'cause you're a Scarran. Rena would make a frelling impressive bodyguard, but I doubt she'd fit through the airlock. We need a bigger crew, that's what we need."

Raelek growled deeply as a note of concern, and nodded. "I am certain that Celesta will play her part adequately. This time, at the least."

"I frelling hope so," Jaben sighed and slumped down in his seat.

The 'clamshell' holographic communicator illuminated on Jaben's desk, with Pilot's enormous head on display in bright blue and suddenly lighting up the dim area with its soft light. The unusual creature glanced at the odd couple briefly before getting straight to the point. That's what Jaben liked about him, really.

"We are entering range of visual comms," Pilot told them.

"Thanks Pilot," Jaben said, standing up promptly. "Tell Rena to come to a complete halt ASAP - I'll get changed and head up to command right now."

"Of course, 'captain'," Pilot said.

"Oh and Pilot," Jaben called behind him as he headed out. "Quit with the sarcasm would ya?"

***

It was a mere ten minutes between Rena coming to a halt and their comms going out. The visual presented an image of a tall, human-like male standing in a commanding, upright position with his arms clasped behind his back. His face was pockmarked with thirty-three cycles of hardship, while a nasty looking scar had just missed his left eye socket - which could have been a much worse injury. He wore an impeccably neat black and red leather uniform, with broad shoulders, a high collar, and various insignia markings. Even the normally unkempt short hair atop his head had been combed back neatly for the occasion.

Behind him, along with the surrounding command centre of the living ship - a curvaceous and thoroughly disorganised affair - a figure stood in all-over black Peacekeeper Commando armour, with a black helmet visor obscuring the face. It was obvious from the way she stood and from the shape of the figure that she was female, but the way she held her heavy pulse rifle suggested that there was little feminine about her.

"I am Captain Relas Jaben," the man announced in a firm voice. "I come here under the orders of Peacekeeper Command, in response to the communiqué you recently dispatched on general frequencies. I would like permission to come aboard your impressive facility, to discuss a business proposition we have for you. I... eagerly await your response."

The comms ended, and Jaben relaxed with a sigh.

"I frelling hate standing like that," he growled, undoing the buttons at the top of his jacket to loosen the collar slightly. "Alright folks, let's get ready."

We greatly desire your friendship, and in that respect, we find ourselves moved to ask, what kind of assistance do you desire precisely?

Elash Mîraglariel, Adjutant of the Elenaran, G. Menelmacar

OOC: No, nothing about C’tans or necrons and such in there, and it should be damn difficult to work out any such thing from farsight, as I’m not out to harm them IC, and won’t do so if they don’t attack me. And maybe even not then. So the runes ought to say, at best: "Ancient evil comes, with fruit baskets and cuddles."

When the Council received this message, they were prepared to delete it immediately. The Ctan, offering aid to Eldar? Such a think was unthinkable...or so they thought. They were still prepared to delete and ignore it, but after reviewing the ancient proverb "Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.", they thought differently:

Oh, nothing much. A military and economic alliance would suit our needs just fine.

Other than Nakahito and the experienced Mikhail, the rest were not really diplomats either. Kurumi managed to act proper, Saki just neutrally passive, Karinka a bit annoyed to be here too, though she looked around with decent interest.

Nakahito just bowed in reverent fashion, looking formal enough in his Onmyu shrine robes, accented in the Gaian diplomatic fashion.

"Thank you. His Excellency extends the same honor through us. We are pleased to be here."

Kurumi beamed a smile behind Nakahito, as Mikhail took the fore. "Shall we begin discussions, unless you wish to give us a tour first? We are at your heed and call at present." ..she put in formal fashion. Underneath she was nervous with this first time on a formal First Contact envoy.

"The docking bay is no place for such discussions. Please, follow me to a more, suitable location..." Tereah said in response, gesturing down the corridor, before suddenly reversing her offer.

"Actually, wait just a moment...I believe we're expecting more company."

"I am Captain Relas Jaben," the man announced in a firm voice. "I come here under the orders of Peacekeeper Command, in response to the communiqué you recently dispatched on general frequencies. I would like permission to come aboard your impressive facility, to discuss a business proposition we have for you. I... eagerly await your response."

Well met. We would be honored, if you would join us.

Mikhail and Nakahito stop just after they are invited in further, on the word of newcomers acoming.

"Interesting..." ..was all the silver haired Steel Angel commented. While they all waited, Karink kept Kurumi off Nakahito as best she could. It wasn't easy. =^^=;;;

Mikhail and Nakahito stop just after they are invited in further, on the word of newcomers acoming.

"Interesting..." ..was all the silver haired Steel Angel commented. While they all waited, Karink kept Kurumi off Nakahito as best she could. It wasn't easy. =^^=;;;

Tereah showed clear signs of disgust of the Mon-Keigh's overtly carnal desires, such as her eyes narrowing and face turning a pink color, before she diverted her gaze to the ground.

When the Council received this message, they were prepared to delete it immediately. The Ctan, offering aid to Eldar?

OOC: Gaaah. What part of 'You really should not know it's C'tan' (which of course, in this case, it isn't) didn't you get?

OOC: Gaaah. What part of 'You really should not know it's C'tan' (which of course, in this case, it isn't) didn't you get?

((OOC: Your username. :p ))

((OC- Waiting for Peacekeeper to respond before continuing, or just go on in a day or two here if not. =oo= I haven't forgotten ya good dude. =^^= ))

((OOC: Your username. :p ))

OOC: As I said, that really would not be on the message. Hell, I don't generally use it, full stop.

Jaben returned to command, only managing to get a few steps down the corridor outside before Pilot summoned him back again. The message they had received was relayed on the clamshell - short, but simple. Jaben' sense of apprehension began to clamber again as a realisation that it was about to happen dawned on him.

"OK people, we're in," he announced. Raelek stood motionless and bolt upright as per usual near the door to command, cocking his head slightly in dubious curiosity. Celesta on the other hand stood in the uncomfortable commando armour, no doubt looking forward to the end of proceedings so that she could take it off. She was slouched against a console, and threw up her arms impatiently at the news.

"Raelek, Celesta, you both know the drill," Jaben said. "Celesta you're with me. And at least pretend like you want to be here, would you? I don't want to have to start disciplining you... however much entertainment that is."

"Aye aye, Captain!" she mocked. She pushed away from the console and promptly left command.

Raelek watched her leave and then glanced at Jaben, before nodding. "I shall remain here."

"OK then," Jaben said. "Pilot, if there's any trouble, you and Rena starburst outta here, but send a signal to Peacekeeper Command asking for reinforcements before you leave."

"Captain, are you..."

"Yes I'm sure," Jaben said. "If anybody needs me, I'll be in that artificial planet..."



Shortly thereafter, a transport pod emerged from the belly of the beast, a tiny spec against an aptly-named Leviathan. Its engines pushed to full strength when it was clear, and it headed straight for whatever manner of docking or hangar facility it could find.

OOC: As I said, that really would not be on the message. Hell, I don't generally use it, full stop.

((OOC: Heh. Very well, just ignore the first part of my post.))

-Snip-

The Transport pod was welcomed into the same dock as the emissaries from Gaian Ascendancy had landed. Farseer Tereah would now be responsible for not one, but two groups. She sighed inwardly, but knew it was her duty, and thus had to be comfortable with it.

For the Gaian's part, the arrival of the PC Transport Pod had a different kind of apprehension, a more cheerful kind. Unexpected to be learning of two new civilizations instead of the intended one gave Gaians a slight excitement.

Learning was 'always' a good thing, when handled with care.

Nakahit reflected this with a comment to Mikhail.. "A bountiful day of diplomacy."

Mikhail just lightly giggled. "Lady Seto will be pleased at minimum."

Half an astronomical unit away from the craftworld, a thing appeared. Four kilometres from stem to stern, it was almost as large as a command carrier itself, though somewhat less voluminous (and very much more ‘massive’ in the physical sense, which was to say it “weighed” more) composed of a silvered metal, its main section was shaped as a crescent, with two thick vanes from its aft quarters, mounting a large ziggurat or pyramid on its dorsal surface, and smaller vanes that appeared to be for communications or sensing on its ventral surface. But it “disappeared” mere moments after its first appearance, its emissions and its apparent mass, on ‘gravitational’ sensors, dropping to zero, and the craft itself even disappearing from the visual sensors that would see it within five minutes.

Aboard the Erisavenus, for once on a mission not entirely of its own design, its ‘captain’ – which was closer to its ‘pet’ than any kind of officer – raised an eyebrow.

“A real bio-mechanoid. That’s a first, even for me.”

“You’re discounting the entire Pilonese and Dargonese navies, you know,” the ship’s calm, authoritative voice said.

“Well, correct. But they’re not quite the same. The composition’s different,” Anárion said, tapping the screen before him.

“Quite correct. I suspect this craft has as much in common with me as it does with such more overtly organic things.”

“An overstatement I think. It does look partially metallic in texture though.”

“Indeed. Anyway. Best get on to scaring the Eldar.”

“You know they’re not going to go crazy over us.”

“And now an understatement, best to be honest with them. And probably disable the stealth. When did you get shadow fields anyway?”

“Not quite the same. Partly related to the kabalite things we got, but they also have something in common with standard mirror fields. Here you go…”


From: Imperial Necrontyr Starship Erisavenus
To: Kionash Ra-Ithen

I hereby request permission to approach to within two light seconds [Eldar unit appended] of your vessel in order to launch an unarmed shuttle containing diplomatic staff of the necrontyr hierarchy. My intentions are completely non-hostile, and I am far outside my effective weapons range at present, and shall disarm all weapons systems on my approach.

OOC: Ah Farscape, fantastic show. I had a peacekeeper puppet for a while, way back.

Originally Posted by Necron cruiser of unknown (new) design
From: Imperial Necrontyr Starship Erisavenus
To: Kionash Ra-Ithen

I hereby request permission to approach to within two light seconds [Eldar unit appended] of your vessel in order to launch an unarmed shuttle containing diplomatic staff of the necrontyr hierarchy. My intentions are completely non-hostile, and I am far outside my effective weapons range at present, and shall disarm all weapons systems on my approach.

The permission you seek, is of course granted. We of course eagerly await your diplomatic team. May this day be most beneficial to both of our peoples.

For the Gaian's part, the arrival of the PC Transport Pod had a different kind of apprehension, a more cheerful kind. Unexpected to be learning of two new civilizations instead of the intended one gave Gaians a slight excitement.

Learning was 'always' a good thing, when handled with care.

Nakahit reflected this with a comment to Mikhail.. "A bountiful day of diplomacy."

Mikhail just lightly giggled. "Lady Seto will be pleased at minimum."

The Farseer turned to the emissaries of Gaian and curtsied before them again. "I am sorry again dear friends, but we await yet another arrival. When they arrive, then we can begin negotiations. My apologies once more." She gave an apologetic and as sincere of a smile as she could, hoping these inconveniences wouldn't put them off.

Mikhail simply turned to the Farseer and asked calmly, hardly put off... "Do you usually have such guests in replete number? It would seem you are garnering fame this day."

Mikhail simply turned to the Farseer and asked calmly, hardly put off... "Do you usually have such guests in replete number? It would seem you are garnering fame this day."

"Nay. This is the first such gathering in several thousand years. After the fall of the Eldar, our own Kionash, or 'Craftworld' as you would call it, retreated beyond the Milky Way to escape the hunger of Slaanesh..." The Farseer replied, shaking her head a moment after.

"But I do not mean to trouble you with such things. More than likely, you do not know of what I speak."

Mikhail shakes her head. "Nay, we do not." ..but then looks with a good level of seriousness after. "...be we are here to learn nevertheless. We are infamous interlopers for a reason, after all.

Tell us all such when time is proper."

Mikhail shakes her head. "Nay, we do not." ..but then looks with a good level of seriousness after. "...be we are here to learn nevertheless. We are infamous interlopers for a reason, after all.

Tell us all such when time is proper."

"Are you quite sure? It's quite a sad and loathsome tale." Tereah lamented, but did not give them a chance to answer. "Such a hegemony that at one time my people had, it is equaled by few, if any empires in all the history of the universe. Only to be done in by hubris and carnal passions..." the Farseer sighed and looked at the floor. The memory of this fall of the Eldar pained her, despite the fact she her self was too young to have witnessed the event first hand. The Farseer was wise enough to change subjects how ever.

"When the time comes, when the other emissaries arrive I shall take you before the council, for I am but their servant."

Mikhail held off answering the first, struck down in her tounge by the additional offered by the Farseer. However she did impart of last.. "Well, if you all should manage to pass the seven hundred million light-years to the borders of our empire, we probably would heed that tale in it's total.

We would prefer to learn lessons that not end in blood of our own kin. We have enough spilled to learn from as it is."

Mikhail stepped back a bit to end the converse.. "You'll be suprised what tales we can endure."

Mikhail held off answering the first, struck down in her tounge by the additional offered by the Farseer. However she did impart of last.. "Well, if you all should manage to pass the seven hundred million light-years to the borders of our empire, we probably would heed that tale in it's total.

We would prefer to learn lessons that not end in blood of our own kin. We have enough spilled to learn from as it is."

Mikhail stepped back a bit to end the converse.. "You'll be suprised what tales we can endure."

"Perhaps..." was all Tereah said in response. She crossed her arms over her chest and eagerly awaited the arrival of the other diplomats. Not so much to meet them, but to get her own involvement in this affair over with as soon as possible. She wasn't used to be around other species, even if they were visibly and mentally similar to her own.

The necron ship reappeared just about where it had said it would be a few moments later, visibly decelerating as it did so. From the aft of its crescent shaped body a craft resembling a ‘Vampire’ raider darted. Indeed, the resemblance was great indeed, for besides a similar shape, they were of the same size. However, this necron vehicle lacked the visible engines of the Eldar version, and its intakes were nonexistent, covered by the same hull material as the rest of the vessel.

It banked as it turned, an unnecessary and showy gesture, and turned towards the craftworld, aboard it, Anárion, a tall elf of similar looks to the Eldar, though somewhat more human in appearance, dressed in various red shades, under a cloak of a deep sea green, clasped with a pin in the form of a wreath of evergreen leaves.

With him was an even taller man with blue-white skin that showed blue blood beneath it, and despite his trim figure, weighed rather more than he needed to, as under his skin, he was a necron. Despite this, his eyes seemed human – well, he had more in common with the Eldar than with humans, but it was a narrow thing – save for shining silver irises that matched his hair in texture, if not colour, for this was golden, not blonde, but actually metallic, as if made of gold thread. He carried at his side a lofty staff of silver and gems that shone with an inner light and left a glittering arc behind it for a fraction of a second as it passed through the air.

The vessel landed in absolute silence, and these two ambassadors, accompanied by a hovering model of their ship, about four centimetres in length, emerged from its rear section, from a wide ram that led into the otherwise empty payload section.

-Snip-

The other Eldar in the area remained silent, though they were somewhat confused by Anárion in particular. They wondered if he was an Eldar, but his more 'human' appearance shed some doubt on this theory. As they approached the other delegations, Tereah curtsied once more, hoping that would be the last time she had to do so again today. "Welcome to Craftworld Ra-Ithen, friends."

As they’d not been introduced, they didn’t give their names, but the hovering drone floated a little closer to Anárion’s shoulder for a moment, and he nodded, at something. The necron smiled a little “We are happy to be here,” he said, in flawless eldarin, surprising perhaps, given the immense complexity of the language, before giving her a very slight bow.

As they’d not been introduced, they didn’t give their names, but the hovering drone floated a little closer to Anárion’s shoulder for a moment, and he nodded, at something. The necron smiled a little “We are happy to be here,” he said, in flawless eldarin, surprising perhaps, given the immense complexity of the language, before giving her a very slight bow.

Tereah was a bit taken aback. The emissary before her had just spoke Eldarin, flawlessly at that. It gave her brief hope that perhaps other Craftworlds still existed in this forsaken galaxy. "Once the other emissaries arrive, we can begin..." She said, feeling like a broken record.

As they’d not been introduced, they didn’t give their names, but the hovering drone floated a little closer to Anárion’s shoulder for a moment, and he nodded, at something. The necron smiled a little “We are happy to be here,” he said, in flawless eldarin, surprising perhaps, given the immense complexity of the language, before giving her a very slight bow.

The Gaians meanwhile only nodded at the moment to them. They were still waiting patiently.

((OC- Um, am I supposed to automatically understand them, or have to artifically translate. Seems there's a spat of translation matrix threads in FT at the moment again. =oo= ))

The Gaians meanwhile only nodded at the moment to them. They were still waiting patiently.

((OC- Um, am I supposed to automatically understand them, or have to artifically translate. Seems there's a spat of translation matrix threads in FT at the moment again. =oo= ))

((OOC: Depends on if your people understand Eldarin, or even have any records of it at all. :p ))

((Hope you don't mind someone slightly late))

The message was received perhaps a little late, filtered as it was through layers of translation devices, transferred through half a dozen networks and, finally, sifted to the Chamber of the Parliament of Flowers that dealt with that particular section of space.



The observer would see a circular room that at moments seems tiny and cramped, and but seconds later larger than the Hippodrome. The focus of the circular room is a circular table of myriad shifting colours, with a delicate glass vase holding a singe white rose in its centre. Aesthetically shaped chairs rise around the table, designed that each person should see them differently – to those love ornamentation, the seats are heavily engraved and decorated, but for those who love simplicity, they are eggshell-white, appearing ever different to suit the tastes of the beholder. Behind each hangs a banner depicting a single flower. From somewhere come the sounds of trickling water and a sorrowful flute, accompanied by a melancholy voice, tuned more perfectly than any instrument.

Two voices challenge one another, their language is more song than speech, and it echoes in the circular room.

“Snowdrop offers thrice a dozen hands of the mortals’ silver”

“Orchid raises by a fistful of rubies, cut in the light of two moons upon a world with only one.”

“Snowdrop counters with a murder of seven crows, fashioned from sapphires plucked from the living oceans of the human first-world.”

“Orchid will add a frozen song of a king’s mourning to the offer of rubies.”

A third voice chimes in, regal and used to command.

“Rose enquires of which king, and mourning for which loss? Orchid has sung many songs.”

A ripple of laughter echoes around the room.

“The Sa’nagani King, for the seven sons of his seventh son, slain together upon the seventh chime of the seventh hour of the seventh day of the seventh year of the seventh Dy’rani war”

There is a pause, then quiet applause through the room. The voice now identifiable as “Snowdrop” speaks.

“Snowdrop concedes to Orchid.”

“Rose will offer the tears of a newborn star.”

“Orchid concedes to Rose.”

“Rose awaits a challenge.”

There is a pause of perhaps three seconds, perhaps a year, before the voice speaks again.

“The tears shall be delivered to the Parliament’s Chamber, as is custom. Rose accepts the Right of Parley.”



Shortly afterward, a message is sent:

Farseer,

We are interested and intrigued by your requests for aid, for few would risk such an open acknowledgement of need in a mortal universe filled with predators and cruel entities.

I would speak further of your requests, should it be deemed desirous by yourself and your chancellors. If you are advised against such action, no offence shall be taken and we shall neither of us concern ourselves with the other, either in friendship or aggression.

I shall await your reply with anticipation.

Ridaeron nal’Messendian vail’lor’Onarr
Of the House of Rose, the Glorious and Unending.
Of the Onarrím.

((OOC: Depends on if your people understand Eldarin, or even have any records of it at all. :p ))

((OC- Time for the translation matrix again just to be safe. Sounds close to the Eternal language since they use elves in a fashion too. =^^= Won't take too much if you take in the post from the Christmas thread today. (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=12114097&postcount=16)

Farseer,

We are interested and intrigued by your requests for aid, for few would risk such an open acknowledgement of need in a mortal universe filled with predators and cruel entities.

I would speak further of your requests, should it be deemed desirous by yourself and your chancellors. If you are advised against such action, no offence shall be taken and we shall neither of us concern ourselves with the other, either in friendship or aggression.

I shall await your reply with anticipation.

Ridaeron nal’Messendian vail’lor’Onarr
Of the House of Rose, the Glorious and Unending.
Of the Onarrím.

In such a universe, is it not true one state requires as many allies as possible, to survive the tidal waves of darkness and barbarity?

Feel free to speak what ever is on your mind.

((OC- Time for the translation matrix again just to be safe. Sounds close to the Eternal language since they use elves in a fashion too. =^^= Won't take too much if you take in the post from the Christmas thread today. (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=12114097&postcount=16)

((OOC: Alright, that should do just fine then.))

((OC- Time for the translation matrix again just to be safe. Sounds close to the Eternal language since they use elves in a fashion too. =^^= Won't take too much if you take in the post from the Christmas thread today. (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=12114097&postcount=16)

((Well, that doesn't sound overtly magical, so it should probably have some problems, given that the language in question is supposedly laughably context-dependant; kind of having all the probelms of English, magnified a hundred times, with the tear-jerking inanity of the star trek episode with the aliens that speak only in mythological metaphors added.

For example, the term 'rhiantha' - starlight, essentially - literally translates to 'the starlight which shines upon the waters of the Rhidhol during the winter' and there's another layer of meaning beyond that, of course, when one presumes that Rhidhol has some kind of mythological significance.

Of course, one wonders if you generally have to know what other people are saying. It's fairly clear from the reaction that he's not insulting her mother or threatening to tear her head off; what more do you want?


Alternatively, if you're Ian Watson, it's just Irish Gaelic, which is an approach I've used in the past when unable to find anything else. It will of course, have nothing to do with Scandinavians' type.))

The necron leaned on his staff a little, gazing at Tereah, ambling closer and looking into her eyes for a time, "In answer to your unspoken question; yes," he said. In truth, he was no telepath, and had several ideas of what precisely she was thinking, one encompassing her actual thought, but to all such questions, the answer was yes. There were others, where that could be entirely the wrong thing to say, of which he could concieve, but were she thinking of such matters, she would probably have looked indefinably more troubled...

Farseer,

Such speech and discussion is best made face-to-face and mind-to-mind, with the intricacies available in such forms, the written word is able to produce joy and mourning, but only in certain rare cases, for such missives lack the scales of emotion and misinterpretation is all too easy.

My craft is prepared should you be willing to meet in person, and the matter of travel is but a trifle within the Boundless Realms, where a year’s journey may take a moment in the outside world.

I await your response.

Ridaeron nal’Messendian vail’lor’Onarr
Of the House of Rose, the Glorious and Unending.
Of the Onarrím.

[]

As with all things of the Everlasting Empire, the Warcraft that appeared near the Craftworld was graceful. While many races and nations build their ships as juggernauts designed to give and receive fire the Onnarím built for elegance of design, making an art and dance of war with emphasis upon the surgical strike instead of colossal battles, but none the less potent for its aesthetics.

Despite its militant nature, the Warcraft [i]Jenaire luo’Navassi was eminently suited to diplomatic roles – without the need for an escort it appeared less threatening than an unarmed ship flanked by a number of military vessels, and with space and resources enough to accommodate an ambassadorial party.

The shuttle that left the warship was similarly elegant and graceful, seemingly too fragile to be able to survive in the cold darkness of space. It landed easily enough, and the figure that left the confines of the shuttle resembled the creations of his race.

Ridaeron nal’Messendian vail’lor’Onarr was tall, and more slender even than the delicate Eldar. Upswept ears poke through long dark red hair, and catlike pupils are encircled by iris of the same colour. His clothing was a simple robe and gloves, and boot tips appeared from beneath the robe when he walked. These clothes were a marble white, veined with the same dark red as his eyes and hair in a manner not unlike sheet lightening. A white gem hung about his neck. He bowed slightly to Tereah.

“I am Ridaeron of House Rose, representative of the Flower Houses of Onarr. It is a pleasure to be present.”

Although his words were spoken in Onarrím, the white stone pulses softly with each sound, and the words ripple from it in Eldarin – the gem’s own properties identifying the prominent language in this place.

The necron leaned on his staff a little, gazing at Tereah, ambling closer and looking into her eyes for a time, "In answer to your unspoken question; yes," he said. In truth, he was no telepath, and had several ideas of what precisely she was thinking, one encompassing her actual thought, but to all such questions, the answer was yes. There were others, where that could be entirely the wrong thing to say, of which he could concieve, but were she thinking of such matters, she would probably have looked indefinably more troubled...

She wondered what he meant for a long moment. Yes, there were still Eldar wandering around the Galaxy? Or yes, she sounded like a broken record? Further yet, she wondered how he knew what she was thinking. She felt no intrusion in her mind, but that did not necessarily mean no such thing occurred. Perhaps the man before her was so powerful and subtle that not even her trained mind could resist...or perhaps it had just been some sort of of enigmatic statement, one said to cause the exact reaction she was experiencing.

"T-Thank you." She finally said, driving these thoughts from her mind as yet another ambassador arrived.

“I am Ridaeron of House Rose, representative of the Flower Houses of Onarr. It is a pleasure to be present.”

Tereah turned to the new Amassador and examined his features. Though perhaps the most speciest of all of the Eldar within Ra-Ithen, she could not help but feel he was the most lovely of the other races she had laid her eyes upon since arriving back in the Milky Way. More lovely than most Eldar she had seen in her days, in fact. After this moment of admiration, she pushed aside her own physical interest in this man and curtsied once more, wholly disgusted with the act by now.

"Welcome, Ridaeron of the House Rose. We are most pleased to have you here."

((OOC: Tell you guys what, if Peacekeeper Command doesn't post soon, we'll simply move on. If theres anything I hate, it's RPs dying because the rest of the players are forced to wait on someone.))

Anárion Pelendur had what might be termed a scientific interest in other species, though that hardly sounded as fair as he would have wished it, given some of the atrocities that had been and which he had seen perpetrated in the name of the Quest for Knowledge. Regardless, he found the latest ambassador to be… interesting. Not least because he was thin.

Not slim, or slight or lithe, Anárion was all of those things and then some, himself, but thin. Eldar, were after all, in some cases, worryingly slim, and this visitor was the same again. Anárion suspected that there was some artificial alteration of his waist, whether by physical or genetic means, as the evolution of such a form (even though the odds of such things as humanoids were staggeringly against anyway, meaning that ‘design’ was perhaps a better word to use) seemed rather counterproductive in a mammal; Ridaeron’s waist would seem more at home on an insect.

It was the eyes that prejudiced him most, though. Red eyes he could live with, they were unusual, but not freakish, but the combination with a catlike slit brought unbidden thoughts of history. It was an unfortunate look, he supposed, and his reaction might well prove to be unfair. He glanced at Arnran, studying the outward reaction of the necron lord, knowing even as he did so that it was futile, for Arnran could doubtless control precisely what reaction appeared on his face, he’d have as much luck with the four centimetre avatar of the starship, which hovered over his shoulder like some miniature metallic parrot.

And in truth, he supposed that in this non-combative form the necron would probably qualify as even thinner, without his extraneous layers of muscle and skin, which were ultimately, rather like clothes. Settling his hand on the inside of his belt against the dark sheath of the dagger-drone that sat there, on his right hip, seemingly as ‘ceremonial’ as his sword, Anárion tapped the foot of a supple brown leather boot that went up to his knee, seeming to actually be wrapped around his leg, and buttoned in place, though in actuality, the close fitting boots were watertight, and folded back on themselves, rather than wrapped around.

Anárion had no understanding of the Eldar language, unlike Arnran, who could not only speak and comprehend it perfectly, but also ancestral forms millions of years old, and thousands or millions more besides. Anárion’s magical abilities, such as they were, were strictly limited, though they did include a form of telepathy rather like that which the farseer was concerned about, though it was impossible to use (in itself) in any harmful form, and also impossible to use without it being noticed by the receiver, to gain information by stealth. This thought transferrance was an innate property of his race, indeed, loremasters said it was one of all species, and merely better known to his kind, and he had learnt its use as a child. Despite this, he could comprehend, by stranger arts, translation that was outright magic, any language spoken around him, and so had no difficulty following both threads of the Onarr ambassador’s speech, and though he heard their sounds, he perceived their meanings as though fluent in both languages. Though it had not been clear so far, as he’d merely spoken his own name, when he spoke, it would seem to be in the first language of any present.

((OOC: Waiting on the others.))

OOC: Sorry for the late reply. My Power was out for a week thanks to a massive windstorm.

IC:

The Deatharoni fleet held position in the system they had been ordered to explore. The many sensors of the fleet detected and received the Craftworld’s response to the Imperium’s initial first contact message.

The Star Admiral Nathar Venca read the response and was pleased with the results. The Star Admiral called up an ambassador via the internal com system of the Imperial Battleship.

The ship was staffed with three ambassadorial teams to communicate with Xenos races and other interstellar powers within the Milky Way. The Ambassador was Belthlar Nelm a low ranking human ambassador. He was not a Deatharon genetically and thus was given the job of ambassador to make up for his weak body and inferior mind.

The Star Admiral sneered at the human whose ancestors were once one of the many thousands of slaves that had served their Deatharon superiors in the days of the old Imperium. The ambassador bowed to his military superior and inquired, “You have called me my lord?”


The Star Admiral smiled and said, “The people of Ra-Ithen have agreed to allow us to send your ambassadorial team to meet with their leaders.”

The ambassador Belthalr Nelm bowed to his superior and walked off the bridge.


The Ambassador was transferred to a Imperial Heavy Cruiser the Star Hunter. This mighty warship was given the coordinates to the Craftworld’s location. The ship used it’s wormhole generator to open an artificial wormhole to the system in question.


The wormholes ending point would form at the destination point. The Star Hunter entered the wormhole and drifted into the void. They would reach their destination in a mere matter of hours….

(( OOC: I'm sorry for the delay, but I'm afraid that at this time of year, i.e. the few days leading up to (and the few days after) the biggest holiday of the Western world, you're going to have to allow for some flexibility for everybody. ))

The transport pod entered the dock it had been directed to and promptly extended its landing pads, touching down quite roughly. A flurry of hissing smoke followed, and the doorway slid open along with a descending staircase. From within the darkness a tall Sebacean stepped out, wearing his black and red uniform with forced dignity. He dropped down to the ground and was followed by the female in the commando suit, clutching her weapon rigidly.

Jaben glanced around and quickly realised that he was not the only delegation here. Anxiety suddenly crept over him as he realised they might all be dealt with at the same time. But then he decided that none of them seemed familiar to him, so it was possible that none of them knew who the Peacekeepers were. And at any rate, they wouldn't know who he was.

"Greetings," he said after a long pause, addressing all the parties. "I am Captain Jaben, Peacekeeper Command - I believe we spoke with somebody earlier. This is Lieutenant Celesta, a Commando from Vishan Regiment, Celedor Company." He gestured to the black suited figure behind him, who merely grunted and clunked the barrel of her rifle against her chest plate.

Jaben looked back at her with a glare, and then looked forward again. He had no idea whom he was meant to be addressing, but he made sure it wasn't apparent. "We come here to discuss a possible trade, which could well lead to more permanent economical relations if successful."

-Snip-

The Eldar were still expecting at least one more arrival, and so their defenses and the docking bay were both left down in preparation. A pre-recored message was broad casted their way as soon as they were in range, welcoming the Deatharoni diplomats warmly.

(( OOC: I'm sorry for the delay, but I'm afraid that at this time of year, i.e. the few days leading up to (and the few days after) the biggest holiday of the Western world, you're going to have to allow for some flexibility for everybody. ))

((OOC: Alright.))

"Greetings," he said after a long pause, addressing all the parties. "I am Captain Jaben, Peacekeeper Command - I believe we spoke with somebody earlier. This is Lieutenant Celesta, a Commando from Vishan Regiment, Celedor Company." He gestured to the black suited figure behind him, who merely grunted and clunked the barrel of her rifle against her chest plate.

Jaben looked back at her with a glare, and then looked forward again. He had no idea whom he was meant to be addressing, but he made sure it wasn't apparent. "We come here to discuss a possible trade, which could well lead to more permanent economical relations if successful."

"I am more than positive this day will be very...rewarding for both our parties." The Farseer decided it was now as good as time as any to bring these people before the council. She stepped back and spoke to them all.

"If you are all ready, I will bring you all before the Seer Council so we may finally begin."

Anárion nodded, and he spoke once more, his words communicated in the first, or most commonly used at any rate, language of all present – not that the ‘peacekeepers’ would notice anything there – and his lips seeming synchronised to his words, “This is quite acceptable to us.”

For his own part, Ridaeron had been examining both the Farseer who welcomed him and the other delegates.

The Farseer warrants a look of genuine interest and curiosity – the culture of Guestright is very strong within Onarr, and the rest are normally cautious of being in the power of foreigners, uncertain as to their own customs. Not to mention that the woman is of a race relatively similar to the Onarrím, at least externally, and certainly attractive even by the standards of many of the Flower Houses.

He regarded the various delegates with a faint expression of detached curiosity upon his delicate features, much as one would look upon an interesting specimen in a zoo or laboratory, eyes lingering over the unusual forms of the Steel Angels of the Gaians – and the apparent attraction between one and the human with them.

The Necron representative was also considered in the same manner, his pale skin a manner of interest to the tall and slender Scion of Rose. In particular his metallic hair and eyes seem of interest to the fine-boned Onarrán. The elfin man next to him similarly draws his attention, particularly when his eyes fall upon Ridaeron, who studies Anárion in the same detached manner as the others, although what his expression shows and his mind thinks are very different things indeed – the nobility of the Flower Houses learn to guard their body language young.

The arrival of the Peacekeepers is met with a similar expression of mild interest, although his opinions of the female probably should not be mentioned in diplomatic discussion – suffice to say that the centuries of custom and etiquette that pervade the Onarrán aristocracy are deeply embedded within this individual’s mind. The male representative appeared a little uncertain of himself, although his attitude was one of confidence and security in dignity, his vague choice of words suggested a slight uneasiness.

“It would be a pleasure. What forms of introduction and etiquette are expected?”

Jaben nodded to the Farseer, allowing a confident - and perhaps slightly arrogant - smile to slowly creep across his face. He meant it only as a friendly one, but some people just weren't equipped for such things.

"I am sure as well," Jaben said, nodding his head deeply in respect. He glanced around at the other delegates briefly, his anxiety diminishing and his confidence resurging. The only ones he didn't feel particularly comfortable with were the "Ctan"* delegates; though he had no idea who they were, he felt somewhat uneasy around them for some reason.

Celesta, on the other hand, certainly noticed the Onarr delegate looking at him - fortunately, the black visor of her helmet obscured the foul look she shot him.

"I am ready at your convenience, Farseer**," Jaben informed the Farseer after the brief pause.

(( OOC:

* - Don't worry Ctan, I've only used your user name for OOC ease!

** - I have just assumed that the Farseer introduced herself to Jaben, I'm sure that won't be a problem.))

((OOC: Sorry for the lack of activity. I was busy with Christmas.))

Anárion nodded, and he spoke once more, his words communicated in the first, or most commonly used at any rate, language of all present – not that the ‘peacekeepers’ would notice anything there – and his lips seeming synchronised to his words, “This is quite acceptable to us.”

The Farseer nodded. "Excellent." She said, before turning to the other diplomats.

“It would be a pleasure. What forms of introduction and etiquette are expected?”

The Farseer simply smiled. "None but the most basic, for the Council is most humble. If your elegance matches your looks, you will fair just fine."

"I am ready at your convenience, Farseer**," Jaben informed the Farseer after the brief pause.

She nodded, and extended her arm down the corridor. "Then let us begin." She said, taking off briskly, but still slow enough for the diplomats to follow her.

Anárion perceived. While he had nothing like the ersatz-experience of the necron lord with him, he was well travelled, having seen the light of a thousand times a thousand stars, and walked on a hundred planets, fighting on some of them, but far more often his weapons, such as they were, were words and quiet deeds of subtle and supple action. At the moment, this perceptive sense was shifting its attention from the Farseer to the Onarrán.

The tiny drone hovering over the elf’s – he actually was more rightly called an Eldar but this wasn’t as popular a usage since they’d encountered another race dubbed ‘Eldar’ – nor for that matter, was elf, Noldo being the only term to describe him that wasn’t shared with other kinds of being, now – shoulder bobbed a little as they followed, “So,” it said conversationally, drifting towards the farseer a touch. The voice of Erisavenus was rich and deep, but with an expressive quality that gave it a great range, its words were excellently enunciated, in whatever language it chose to speak, and its timing impeccable. The voice of a god, or at least a god-machine controlling a vast cruiser and ten thousand drones of various types, scattered throughout a million cubic lightyears, carrying out thousands of such conversations simultaneously, managing financial dealings in the dark places of the galaxy, and eagerly sifting raw communications data and processed reports for word of anything to interest it. “Idinn,” the only word it spoke in Eldarin on this occasion, the term for ‘farseer’ though of course, it was rather more complex and rich in meaning than its English counterpart, “if you may, please oblige a few questions; such as, where precisely did you go, if you have only just returned to this galaxy? Oh, and would you mind terribly if I entered orbit of the planet?”

Arnran’s skin was only pale in a technical sense, in that it lacked pigmentation. In the layers of muscle and subcutaneous fat between his skeletal frame of strange artifice and his skin, blue blood flowed, which made him seem to have a depth of colour most unlike that of most humanoid races. It was indeed, a rather dark colour, leading to a rich and relatively even colour. While his eyes – or rather, the layer over them – were not actually metal, they appeared as such, conversely, his hair actually did seem to be delicately woven, reinforced and retextured cloth-of-gold thread. If one were to touch it, it would feel much like human hair, though smoother, rather than as the metal within.

As Anárion's perception moved to the Onarrán the visions presented would change from the psychic energies of the Eldar to the predominantly magical beings of the Boundless Realms.

There was some small amount of latent psionic energy present as with most sentients, which had been extensively trained and almost manufactured into a shield against psychic attacks - certainly not sufficient to stand up for any great length of time to powerful, trained psykers. It would probably sufficient to last long enough (when combined with a strong mind) to bring his not inconsiderable magical ability to bear.

For this was certainly one area of particular strength, magic infused his body and linked him firmly to another place - a place of origin, perhaps. Streams of magic curled around him delicately, even his arcane abilities carefully trained for their aesthetics and to utilise the minimum power necessary to maintain them.

The magical power of magical beings tend to be stronger and more subtle than those merely learnt, and Ridaeron was no exception. Beneath the veneers of magic swirling close to his skin there is certainly more hidden - the casual observer would only have seen the outer layers, and failed to notice the deeper levels of ability, and without doubt there were reserves beyond even these.

The slender, pale Onarrán felt the other's gaze and turned his head to look at Anárion. His red, catlike eyes rested impassively upon the other with a look of casual interest much as before. However, upon this glance he looked at the other through the Planes, attempting to observe the magical, psionic and spiritual with calm, guarded confidence of the trained. His body language and expression did not change in the slightest.

“if you may, please oblige a few questions; such as, where precisely did you go, if you have only just returned to this galaxy? Oh, and would you mind terribly if I entered orbit of the planet?”


"My people and I chose to retreat to Andromeda after the fall of our Empire. There we found refuge from the Chaos Hordes. Now that our strength has returned, how ever, we have decided to return. And as for your second question, feel free to do so."

The Farseer lead them now through the streets of Ra-Ithen it self. They were more like trails or footpaths, not large enough for vehicles, but wide enough to allow a decent flow of people. In addition, instead of steel or concrete or other such materials, they paths seemed to consist of paved soil. Around them, the atmosphere was alien, yet strangely relaxing. The atmosphere mimicked that of nighttime. And though there were not artificial lights of any kind, the area they traverse through was well lit with an ethereal green light.

Around the path, flora occupied the immediate kilometer or so. Though it mostly consisted of a tall, alien grass of some sort, there were also some familiar items, for the human visitors at least. Mushrooms and flowers, both small and gigantic lined the path, and they too seemed to glow and shine with the eerie green light.

The group encountered very few Eldar along the way, as the Farseer had deliberately chosen one of the more secretive paths through the city. Those that did stroll by gave curious glances to the visitors. Though not exactly warm, they did not seem overtly hostile either. More like children, observing a new creature or discovery for the first time. Despite this seemingly vacant area, signs of a large population could be heard in the distance. The beautiful voices of a chorus of Eldar songs could be heard echoing through the Craftworld, songs of lament and loss in dedication to the fallen Aspect Warriors that gave their lives in the most recent campaign.

"We are almost there..." The Farseer commented as she lead on.

Arnran looked interestedly at the compressed earth slabs that formed a solid paving surface in the great arboretum, and crouched for a moment to flick his nail along it, and then stood up, still moving as he did so. As he looked at the plants, their names made themselves known at the back of his mind – he didn’t think of them, but he knew they were there, vast realms of data making themselves available at a whim, a sense of recognition. Reams of data accompanied the movement of everyone in the party, assessments and knowledge and predictions…

All of it irrelevant. Arnran walked on without comment as the Erisavenus thanked the farseer, and moved towards the planet.

Ridaeron looked around with the same semi-detached air of curiosity, red eyes taking in the unusual scenery. His head moves slowly to look to the side, then toward the ceilings as if curious about the lighting.

"Do your kind divide themselves? Do the Eldar form Houses, districts or other forms of separation, or is a form of unity preferred?"

He crouches down to look briefly at one of the flowers. Every movement made with grace as he examined it. A few moments later he rose and rejoined the party.

Each of the Eldar passing the group was given a brief glance that took in far more than would expected from a short look, the Onarrán emissary curious about this species but unwilling to show his interest. Within the courts Boundless Realms every tiny piece of body language was observed and noted, meaning drawn from every scrap of information available. The politics of the Flower Houses were complex, with mild insults blown into feuds that last for a thousand years and wars ignored to maintain a facade of delicacy.

His head tilts very slightly to listen to the songs of mourning, the white gem at his throat pulsing gently and whispers of the songlike language of the Realms float to Ridaeron's ears.

"Farseer, are the songs of your people merely the requiem and the lament? Do your voices lift also in joy, rapture and wonder?"

His own kind have their own songs of sadness, songs of despair so potent that few can resist being drawn into their spiralling madness. Yet alongside these are also great works of joy, songs that pull the listener into dances of joy be they alone or in a crowd.

((OOC: Sorry for the delay, I was waiting to see if the others were going to post.))

"Do your kind divide themselves? Do the Eldar form Houses, districts or other forms of separation, or is a form of unity preferred?"

"Indeed we do. Beyond this area, there are vast cities and neighborhoods. Though, they are much different than most. Unlike other species, we do not destroy nature to create our dwellings. We leave alongside it in perfect harmony..."

Tereah explained, as she lead on. The monolithic shape of a mansion-like building could be seen through the plant life as the path wore on, near it's end.

"Farseer, are the songs of your people merely the requiem and the lament? Do your voices lift also in joy, rapture and wonder?"

"Yes, of course they do. Though, for many long years we have had no reason to sing such songs. We have not known glory and strength for one Milena. Not until recently, in any case."

With that, the path ended and the group ended up in a circular court yard before the mansion. The ground was still nothing more but soil, and in the center there was a large, multi-layed fountain trickling water, the sound eerily calming. Waiting on the steps of the mansion were a line of tall, beautiful beings surrounded in an ethereal light them selves. Male and female, and all dressed in silver and grey they awaited the group of emissaries. Tereah brought the group to within a few meters of the steps. She nodded to the emissaries, and then the group. "The Council..." she whispered almost breathlessly, backing away several meters.

Slowly, all twelve of them descended the stairs and looked upon the group. The one in the center of the rest, a tall male with platinum blond hair spoke first.

"I am Seer Artanis, and I welcome you.." His voice was almost unrealistically calm and laid back as he looked upon the aliens before him, staring into their eyes one by one.

((OOC: o.o where did everyone go?))

“I’d say it’s more a case of you creating your own nature,” Arnran mused, at Tereah’s comments on nature, “In the sense many understand it, though not us, nothing here is actually natural, after all,” the Necron said.

He found the arrangement of the seer council to be curious. It seemed likely to him that these Eldar had changed their society to some degree from the normative. He considered whether the mansion the Eldar were standing before could be constructed entirely for the benefit of the visitors, to keep aliens out of the true workspaces of the seer council, it seemed likely.

The tiny ship avatar bobbed in the air as the male farseer welcomed them, speaking again in its calm voice, “Thank you, seer Artanis.”

Arnran bowed ever so slightly, “On behalf of the Void Dragon,” he smirked just a little, watching reactions carefully, “the C’tan, the necrons and necrontyr, and the people of the Empire of Greater Menelmacar at large, we thank you for your hospitality, and look forward to obliging your supplication as best we can.”

----

Meanwhile, in space, the great crescent of the Erisavenus moved into orbit of the planet, and began to scan it with active sensors of tremendous power; it had questions, it wanted answers, about what the Eldar had done here.


((New Years' Parties, I'd imagine))

((OOC: So...after all this deception and masquerading, he comes right out and admits at least partial association with the Eldar's hated foes?))

((OOC: So...after all this deception and masquerading, he comes right out and admits at least partial association with the Eldar's hated foes?))

He... already has. The "deception" was quite a while back. And it's more because 'C'tan' is a sucky nation name than anything else. It's very obviously a necron ship, if of a new design, assuming you know what they look like.

He... already has. The "deception" was quite a while back. And it's more because 'C'tan' is a sucky nation name than anything else. It's very obviously a necron ship, if of a new design, assuming you know what they look like.

((OOC: First, I would like to apologize for my lack of activity the past few days...second, now what? A good ol' shoot out? Because honestly, I don't see the Eldar here reacting any other way.))

((OOC: First, I would like to apologize for my lack of activity the past few days...second, now what? A good ol' shoot out? Because honestly, I don't see the Eldar here reacting any other way.))

OOC: Well, if they really haven't figured out that it's necrons by now - what with the big crescent shaped living metal ship outside, introducing itself as Imperial Necrontyr Starship Erisavenus - then sure, why not?