NationStates Jolt Archive

...
Conrad:- Prog. 7.134978101281-094 Boot
Conrad:- Prog. 7.124830959381-094 Boot
Conrad:- Prog. 7.310598312090-094 Boot
All Files Booted.

Programs Loaded. Population Recount beggining.
Inner Worlds- Count Completed.
Outer Worlds- Count Completed.
Ring Worlds- Count Completed.
Gas Worlds- Count Completed.
Rock Worlds- Count Completed.
Other Worlds- Count Completed.

Ziv- Count Completed.
Zivvaria- Count Completed.
Serrinite Only- Count Completed.

Fleet:
7 Ships Remaining Worthy.
1 Intergalacticly Prepared.

Technology Archive:
Ships- Damaged.
Agriculture- Damaged.
Genetics- Damaged.
Sheilds- Damaged.
Weapons- Damaged.
Transport- Complete.
Manufactor- Complete.
Other- Damaged.

Species Archive:
Approx 57.8194% destroyed.
*Of Remaining... 91.71876% species Extinct.

History Archive:
Serrin History- Complete
Protectorate History- Damaged
Mitani War- Complete
Philosophies- Complete
Language- Complete
Species- Damaged

Attempting to re-establish contact with all Terminals.
...
...
...
Failed.
Retry in 5.
4.
3.
2.
1.
...
...
...
Failed.
97.43% Internal Terminals Lost.
93.47% Fleet Terminals Lost.
100% External Terminals Lost.

Conrad reboot, Complete

Runfile: Galactic Communication 1.341905-Probe.

**********************************************************
Conrad, the AI System which has run Zivvaria and the Protectorate of Warshrike since the end of the great Mitani Wars of her past. The affects of a system shutdown?? Devastating. A technological dark age of almost ten years, the Protectorate turning into itself, devouring the galaxy of Zivvaria with ease. Yet some Terminals of Conrad remained Unscathed, and now in the depths of the war, they blink back on. The Protectorate has its Protector once more, and re-unifies.
Now, she begins turning once more outside of her borders. The population problems which first led her outside are no longer a problem- Indeed, most of the people, and Species, which once called her home, are extinct. The Serrins still remain at the head of The Protectorate, and it is they who no doubt always will. But for Now, the only thing the Protectorate worries about is rebuilding, and re-establishing the few ties it had outside of it's borders.

The Message Conrad Sends out is simple.
"We, The Protectorate of Warshrike, are returning to the Galaxies beyond our own once more. We apologise to our allies and friends for our total vanishing(See- File6.52347235436.0132 Ref. Xanthal, ESUS, GFFA, War, Augerin 00173)
and our otherwise ignorance to current events.
We send the Ship Guntherak Northis to a location enclosed(Gal Ref- X15.74324 Y3.57432 Z7.25684) And hope that our Allies and those who which ties with us should join for diplomatic talks.
Life will Return to the Dead."

Sure Enough, the Ship soon Rematerialises in a location of space just outside the Galaxy where the Protectorate first emerged. It lights a beacon to shine brightly through the darkness of space, calling the ships to it. It re-broadcasts the message. And it waits.

For Conrad has reawakened, and the Protectorate has returned

Bump Because Noone Loves Me :(

OOC: Though I do not recall having the pleasure of RPing with you in the past, welcome back. :D


I'm sure you are indeed loved.

OOC: Though I do not recall having the pleasure of RPing with you in the past, welcome back. :D


I'm sure you are indeed loved.

OOC: You've never had the 'pleasure' else you'd remember it, of course :P
And if you think it's a mild possibility, you know me not.
But thanks, you make my thread look mildly used!! :D

OOC: You've never had the 'pleasure' else you'd remember it, of course :P
And if you think it's a mild possibility, you know me not.
But thanks, you make my thread look mildly used!! :D

OOC: ;)

Would you like a rogue patrol of mine or something to stumble across you? or would you rather I basically not interefere anymore?

OOC:That would be rather nice, actually. It is kind of the idea that any+everyone who wants to gets involved.
As you're new to my nation, I'll just say that the idea of the Protectorate is the utter preservation of ALL Life, and it is more or less run by it's AI System Conrad.

OOC: Alright then, I cannot write a long story currently, but within about 20 minutes I will....watching game 2 of the Stanley Cup right now lol

OOC:That's ok, I have been up all night and do not plan on sleeping until quite late in the day. Woo holidays.

OOC:Well, I'm Finally Going To Bed. But First, BUMPO MAGNIFICO!!

It is twenty-four Earth standard days from the time Conrad's message was dispatched that Xanthal is able to get a ship to the appropriate sector. A year earlier the Socialist Republic may have had trouble responding at all, but the recent discovery of a cluster of sords leading to various parts of the galaxy in question puts the Protectorate's olive branch within the reach of Xanthal's (admittedly small) complement of dual hyperlight drive ships.

Captain Renegek Thalmas always enjoys an opportunity to get out of the major spacelanes and see new things, so he jumped at the opportunity to command one of the Ministry of Transportation's new extended range sązoyl models. Renegek is a bolian, bald and blue-skinned. He moved to Xanthal as a young man infatuated with the idea of experiencing an alien culture firsthand. Now approaching his fifties, the longtime pilot hasn't lost a bit of his enthusiasm with age. Like he tells his friends, "Who could get bored with so much out there to see?"

The door to the ship's modest command center slides open with a hiss as their single passenger steps onto the bridge. He is an unremarkable human man, standing a little under six feet, disheveled brown hair, long beard and mustache, the typical Freeland mix of primarily caucasian races. He wears the black and grey uniform of a servant of the Triumvirate; the gold buckle and trim indicate his status as a diplomatic representative. "Ambassador," the Captain greets him warmly. "Come to check up on us?"

"Ha ha," the newcomer replies tiredly, trying to smooth out a wrinkle in his uniform with one hand. "It's the middle of the night; couldn't we have reduced speed or something? It would have been nice if we had chosen to meet the Protectorate's ship after I'd gotten a full night's sleep."

Renegek smiles sympathetically. Unlike the ambassador, he went to bed early and took on this shift so he'd be on duty when they arrived. As a result, he's much less... ruffled by the late hour. "You know the orders as well as I do: 'all possible speed.' It took us two weeks to get here, we're lucky this Conrad AI has been kind enough to wait this long."

"Conrad was in operation when Xanthal first established contact with the Protectorate 150 yers ago," the ambassador points out. "I doubt he'd mind waiting a few extra hours."

Addressing one another in English violates protocol, but it's a common violation between two native speakers. Besides, Thalmas has always believed there are more important things to worry about than what language people are speaking. As long as people communicate, they can talk however they please as far as he's concerned. The ambassador, Collin Jacknife, is a decade younger than the captain. Unlike Renegek, he was born and raised on Trasnia. Based on their conversations during the journey, this is his most important assignment to date. It's understandable that he'd be a tad on edge.

Their exchange is interrupted by a report from the than manning the pilot's station. The rich blue-colored insectoid calls out in its own native language, not in violation of protocol, but because than are physically unable to speak either English or Mirfakan. Instead it speaks in a series of chirps, hisses, scratches, and sceeches that the humans are able to avoid wincing at only because they are accustomed to serving alongside the man-sized bugs, who make up approximately one tenth of the population of Xanthal. The ship's onboard computer translates the incomprehensible noise into surprisingly natural, though still obviously synthesized, Mirfakan. "Guntherak Northis əsti yəpĭl pląsĭn olĭnsąl. wą əsti nuni təl mor wəv."

In response, both the captain and the ambassador direct their attention to the large forward viewscreen, which obligingly buzzes to life, displaying an image of the Guntherak Northis. "ĭdosi diskun olĭnsąl, uaąl," Thalmas orders, rising from his chair and tugging on the hem of his uniform top to straighten it. Unlike the ambassador's jumpsuit, his uniform is three pieces: jacket, pants, and shoes. The jacket is a shiny rubber, red with blue trim and silver buckles running at an angle up the front which tends to ride up his torso if he doesn't pull it down after standing or sitting.

"diskun ąktąl," replies another officer, this one a female xanthalian.

"Protectorate vessel Guntherak Northis," an audio-video datastream transmits the captain's address to the other ship. "I am Renegek Thalmas, commander of this ship, Xanthalian Ministry of Transportation Vessel number one million, six hundred fifty-one thousand, five hundred eighty-seven. We have come in response to the Conrad AI's invitation."

Collin clears his throat as he steps beside the captain. "I am Ambassador Collin Jacknife, an official representative of the Xanthalian Triumvirate. I have been assigned to conduct negotiations with Conrad AI or whatever agent he has appointed for this contact."

The sązoyl class ship moves in to one hundred kilometers of the Guntherak Northis before coming to a stop. At 200 meters in length with a crew of 21 it's an inefficient vehicle for carrying one passenger, but the much smaller kąlekas typically used for ferrying diplomatic staff have insufficient range to make even a one-way trip to this remote location, let alone the return journey. Besides, a kąleka is too small to have both a hyperspace jump drive and a space-time bubble generator. The sązoyl also boasts energy shields and defensive laser cannons, making it better-prepared for the kind of trouble sometimes encountered off the beaten path in contrast to the defenseless kąleka. Of course, its defenses are offline at the moment; Xanthalian protocol demands that diplomatic contact be completely nonaggressive, and that's one rule neither the captain nor the ambassador are inclined to break.

OOC:To clear things up, The location of Zivvaria is still unkown to everyone outside of the Protectorate. "Sure Enough, the Ship soon Rematerialises in a location of space just outside the Galaxy where the Protectorate first emerged."
I'll magically ignore that slip up, but thanks for coming Xanthal!! Besides, most of the OOC was from me :P

IC: From the Protectorate Ship, Which oddly enough was not of Serrin design but one of the far Blockier ships which marked it as having been made by a Slytherazakai, one of the other major species of the Protectorate.
The ship itself was roughly Two kilometres long, though telling its exact class would be difficult. Indeed, with Conrads damaged Archive, even he wasn't sure. As all Slitherazakai vessels, it was obviously built for Strength, not just in weaponry but in hull. Indeed, it included the standard Ramming Prow of the species.
From a small port on this Prow Six Glossy Black, Spherical probes emerged, about a metre round each. They appeared to have no propulsion system, or anything on them to denote use. They flew to the Xanthal ship before any reply was given, moved around the ship several times, before coming to a rest directly in front, behind, above, below and to either side, one at each point.
Then, after the Probes were done their scan, a channel was opened. A long, Reptillan face appeared on the screen, The Slith captain of the vessel. The Slith were not the most fantastic looking species ever seen, and they were built obviously to be up close and personal. His blocky, scaled head had a ridge starting at his forehead, and running down his back. His uniform, if it could be called that, was clearly of a metal design which was both reminiscent of armour, and to keep the cold blooded wearer warm. His face ended in a long reptile snout, figged with jagged and razor-sharp teeth, behind which a think tounge began forming words.
"Greetingss. Ambassssador Collin. I am Sssv-Volkorta, Captain of vesssel Guntherak Northisss. We require that you and your essscort come aboard our ssship thor the conversssation. Do you have available meansss, or will we Transss-itht you aboard?? Though it iss good to ssee our threindss of the Zzanthal ssurvived the ESsUSs Conthlict."
As with all of his species, he emphasised his S's, and could not say F at all, but rather 'th', nor X which comes as Z.
He stood there on screen, waiting, steamy breath escaping his mouth as he panted. It was clearly quite warm in the vessels bridge room, which was clearly desgined for the Sliths, though there were other species working around, as with all Protectorate Vessels.

Trans-what now? Renegek raises an eyebrow. Some sort of teleportation device, no doubt.

"We have a shuttle, but if you can offer a more expedient means of transportation, you may use it to bring us to you," Collin replies, looking over at the captain to be sure this is, in fact, okay.

Thalmas draws a deep breath, running quickly through the list of things that need to be done here. Not coming up with anything urgent, he nods. "Зnli əsti ląnrəg." The sapphire-shelled pilot turns and salutes. Satisfied, the captain addresses Sssv-Volkorta. "We are prepared."

"Very well" Was all Sssv-Volkorta said. From the six probes now surrounding the ship, a thin, visually white line shot forth, each almost ignoring impeding objects as they locked onto the Ambassador and those who were joining him.
As the probe lights met eachother, the party merely dissapeared. Within a fraction of a Blink, they were standing on the Bridge of the Guntherak Northis, and the Probelights had ceased on their own ship.

Sssv-Volkorta stood before them, along side two other Slitherazakai, one a slightly smaller female, two of the Feline Nephilim, and four Serrins. He greeted them and restated his name, then began explaining that the others were the rest of the Council of Ten who had been elected for this voyage.
He gestured to each in turn, and explained who they were:
The other Male Slith was Sssv-Koroth. He was a General.
The Female Slith was Sssa-Kirill. She was a Technologist.
The first Nephilim, who was Male, was Calis. He was a Psychic.
The second, a Female, was Ilias. She was a Geneticist.
Of the Serrins, the only Female was Salish Crem, an Admiral.
The next was Adarim Kalis, A Civilian.
The third Krem Forjek, a Preist
The final living member of the council was Vendaris Hensho, who was a member of the Grand Council of Ten.
Of course, the Tenth member was given a breif mention-Conrad.

As the Captain finished explaining who each was, and each gave a breif anknowledgement, Vendaris stepped forward. "I welcome you aboard a vessel, and hope that everything will be ample for your needs. If you do not require anything specific, shall we go to a more uh... Diplomatically-minded room??" He spoke with an air of arrogence which few people could bare. Indeed, even most of the people who stood behind him glared with something akin to hatred.

OOC:
Notes-
Transhifting is what The Protectorate refers to any form of Teleportation.
The High Council is essentially the Highest form of Government in The Protectorate.

It takes more than a little conceit to throw Collin off his game. Being a professional diplomat he's got abundant patience. Both he and the captain bow respectfully to each of the Council members as they are introduced. When everyone is properly acquainted, the two of them dutifully follow Vendaris.

It was a dazzling display, as if the Gods themselves had opened up the doors to heaven within the blackened nothingness that was space, sending forth from their bossom a single vessel. It wasn't the largest vessel ever, infact it was one of the smaller class starships the Republic had at its disposal. A prototype diplomatic vessel, with many qinks still in it, explaining why it had taken a full two weeks to arrive at the scene. Never-the-less, it was there.

Varus lazily made his way onto the bridge, then waddled his plump old frame towards the observation windows to join Captain Brandish, the pour soul that had made the mistake of providing a comfortable luxury trip for the pompous Senator some time ago, and was now ordered, at Varus' request no doubt, to lead the prototype on its first mission.

"I see we've arrived, rather late too. I'm not sure you'll be receiving such a grand tip this time, Captain." Varus spoke.

"Forgive me, Senator, but this new equipment your company has produced is still rather....unperfected. We got here as best we could."

The old man merely snorted, then ordered that a channel be opened to the foreign craft. When he was given the all clear, he began his introduction.

I am Senator Gnaeus Faustius Varus. On behalf of the Senate and People of the Republic, hail. I come in peace and respect to represent the possibility of agreements between your people and the mighty Republic. Will you admit me an audiance?

As the party onboard the Guntherak Northis continued to the Council Chamber, the Captain was pulled up by a minor official, and called back to the bridge. He excused himself and said that they had 'other guests' who would join them shortly, and he would remain on the bridge in case anyone else arrived. It was obvious he was glad of this releif from Vendaris, who had done nothing but talk about seemingly meaningless things since they began to walk.

Arriving back on the Bridge, he opened a reply channel to the ship.
"Greetingsss on behalth oth The Protectorate. I am Sssv-Volkorta, Captain of The Guntherak Northisss. Of coursse, we will require that you come aboard our vesssel for the talkss, but firsst, we assk you not to be alarmed whisslt we sscan your sship. For ssafety reassonss of coursse."
And from the same port in the Ramming Prow, another six Probes emerged and acted in the same manner as the six which still surrounded the Xanthalian Vessel. Indeed, they finished in very similar positions, too.
"You sseem to check out, Ssenator. Sshall you come aboard ussing your own methodss, or will we Transs-itht you aboard??"

Meanwhile, those who had continued on to the Diplomatic Room had arrived at their destination. Vendaris was talking apparently about the Protectorate Credits he had wasted on his newest Mansion, carved out of an entire Moon. Within the room itself was an obvious looking Computer Mainframe, the Conrad Terminal of the Vessel. In front of this were Nine seats in from of a rectangular table, and beneath this and slightly lowered was a large, circular table with a ring of what appeard to be wood one metre wide on the edge, around which sat roughly 50 or so chairs, arranged so that noones back would be to the council.
Apart from the Metre of Wood, the Interior of the table, which was roughly Ten Metres, was carved into a system of intricate Mountains, Valleys and other such landmarks, and even had several working water features. On top of this table, barely visible to the eye, the Vren lived.
The Vren were a race of miniscule humans, who made their homes on almost every Table which the Serrins gave to Diplomatic Purposes.
The Council Members took a seat behind the rectangular table, Vendaris taking the centre seat which was oddly intricate considering the normally equal arrangements. Indeed, every other chair in the room was of the same design, whether for Council or Guest.
At this point, Conrad spoke. As always aboard a Protectorate Vessel, he came from everywhere and nowhere. "Please, Take a seat honoured guests of Xanthal. We shall await the newer arrivals, and then talks will begin. In the meantime, I hope you will enjoy something to eat."
With that several beings from assorted species came in bearing platters of meats, strange fruits and several jugs of a sweet smelling but rather potent alcohol, and plain water.

OOC:Incase anyone here remembers when I first appeared, The Vren were present aboard the table of that meeting, too. I felt it was somewhat symbolic to bring them with me, so here they are!!

"It is an honor to be made welcome by the caretaker of the Protectorate," Jacknife replies, instantly recognizing Conrad's voice from among the briefing materials he was given to prepare for this assignment. "I have no doubt you've already caught our names, but I am Ambassador Collin Jacknife and this is Captain Renegek Thalmas."

The Captain is less interested in the food on the table than he is in the little people that seem to live on it. Between living on Freeland and travelling the stars for twenty years, he was beginning to think he'd seen all the humanoids he was going to in this lifetime. He's fascinated, and a little elated. Things like this, though rare, are what make his job so fun. Unsure whether the tiny humans can even understand English, let alone are willing and able to talk to him, he hesitates for a moment before calling out to one at random, deciding to take the risk of looking foolish. "Hello there! May I have a word with you?"

Casting a skeptical eye at Renegek, Collin takes the opportunity to have some breakfast. The food and drink laid out is of high quality, and there are some dishes he's never seen before. Cautiously, the ambassador tries some of the more exotic-looking foods as well as those dishes that are more familiar. The ship is more hot and humid than he'd prefer, but it's well within his ability to tolerate, and it doesn't bother him as long as he keeps his mind off it. He's just pleased things have been going so well thus far. He does vaguely wish that Vendaris fellow could shut his mouth for a few seconds, but oh, well.

The Vren turned around and looked upon hearing Renegek. Not the one he had adressed, but every one of them outdoors. Some of the smallest children, who had not yet had contact with any humans larger than a Vren, starting crying and screaming, a barely hearable squeek, to be expected due to their size.
Soon one came to the edge of the table, and climbed the slight rise to the Wooden barrier. He spent the time walking across the metre wide strip with his eyes locked on Renegek. About 10cm away from the man, he cupped his hands and let out a "Hello. My name is Dartanial."
Even from such a range, his voice sounded little more than a whisper, though you could tell it was deep. Inside the table, the rest of the Vren turned back to their tasks, paying no more heed to Renegek.
Ilias, the Female Nephilim, stood and walked over to Renegek on silent feet. Her voice was smooth and she purred slightly as she spoke. "The Vren are not quite as uncivilised as they once were, and we have taught them a number of languages. When we gave them Technology, though, they returned it almost unanimously. It is an interesting quirk of their species. They have the same Chromosones as a Human, but they have none of the same emotions or drives."

"Ah," Renegek says distractedly. He tries to be polite, but he's far more interested in talking to the little man than Ilias.

Noticing this, Collin picks up the slack, abandoning his feast to strike up a conversation. "So, Ilias; you're a geneticist? What exactly do you do with your expertise?"

Seeing the Nephilim's attention diverted, the captain resumes his conversation with Dartanial. "Nice to meet you. I'm Renegek, in case you missed my name before." He marvells at this tiny creature; he's no biologist, but he's pretty sure that a brain that small shouldn't be able to display human intelligence. Still, here he is, with a whole society of others just like him. The universe truly is a wonderous place. "Pardon me for bothering you, but... do you live here?" He gestures, indicating the table as 'here,' then stops, afraid the broad movement will blow his newfound acquaintance over. How embarassing that would be. He lowers his arm slowly.

Illias smiles at Collin as he addresses her. "Sadly, as with most scientific professions, I am currently trying to regather as much information as I can. Most of our database was lost when Conrad shut down, so we've been trying to replace what we've lost."

Dartanial shows no affect from Renegek moving his arm. Standing about an Inch, he's rather tall for his species. "Yes. We've lived here since settlement, and we'll live here for a long time. It's a rather drab place though, not much to do." Dartanial shouted up. "Tell me, where do YOU live, is it at all as boring??"

"I believe your form of transportation would be superior to our own in boarding your ship, thus, by all means do what you must to get me there. I humbly await."

(OOC: Bleech. Sorry for this post of simple dialogue with nothing else, leaving it rather stark and unpretty and, well, quite newbish. You must forgive me, see, for some reason I've caught a cold in spring of all seasons and due to the constant nose blowing and the fact that I can't think straight I wasn't feeling very creative. Perhaps tomorrow I can continue this with better quality.:( )

OOC: That's ok, I've seen and most likely done worse myself. And to prove this point:
Also, I think I just created a word in my post.

IC:The Probes transport the Senator and his retinue aboard in the same method they had done for the Xanthalians. The Captain once more is standing before them. "Welcome aboard my sship, Ssenator. Ith you will thollow thiss Sslitherazakai, he will esscort you to the Diplomatic chamber." He gestured to a large Slith wearing a similar armour/uniform combination, who wordlessly turned and began walking away, expecting to be followed. The Sliths were used to efficiency and instantaniousness.

"That's unfortunate," the ambassador says sympathetically. "Conrad's failure caused a great deal of trouble in this galaxy, didn't it?"

"Well, I spend most of my time on a spaceship that's much less luxurious than this one," Thalmas says, "but I'm rarely bored, between my duties and my crew." He tilts his head to get a better view of a Vren couple walking into a house. Magnificent. "I must admit, I'm surprised that a species like yours exists. I hope you'll forgive my prying, but were you engineered, or did you evolve this way?"

Shock could be read clearly on Varus' face, shock and slight fear, uneasiness within his eyes. He stood stock still, about his body the Senatorial garb, a red tunic and white toga, on his feet court sandals. He looked around the room slowly in fascination about being transported suddenly to new surroundings.

"I...I've never been teleported before....An odd feeling it has...." He began to regain his composure, removing his cowardice and replacing it once again with his businessman like persona. "Of course, Captain. Lead the way, uh, Slitherazasikazi?"

OOC: I am leaving this thread due to inactivity. Warshrike, if you want to keep going once you're able to post regularly again, let me know.