Gurguvungunit
19-05-2007, 01:27
OOC: Let's build an internet! See this thread (http://z9.invisionfree.com/NS_Modern_World/index.php?showtopic=343) for more.
Off New York, USQ
"Easy! Easy! Sync up the winches!" First Officer Andrea Harkness stood planted on the deck of the RMS Baltic Princess, a Royal Fleet Auxiliary fishing trawler modified to lay submarine fibre-optic cable. Built to withstand North Sea storms by riding them out, the small, sturdy ship pitched a bit in the Atlantic chop. The Baltic's task, shared with perhaps four other RFA trawlers, was to lay connector cables into various east coast cities of the United States. Huge drums of black cable replaced similar drums of net, which spooled out across the stern of the Baltic's stern.
"Move it, people! We've got a rendezvous with the Hooke in three days, and I still see cable on the deck!" Harkness' ship was behind schedule, and the captain had been itching to sail off for their meeting with the ship that was even now preparing to lay the main cable. The four 'subcables' would have to be spliced into the main one to create an uninterrupted trans-Atlantic cable stretching not from the USQ to Britain, for that cable was already in place, but rather to a new router off of Scotland. That router would connect to a planned set of cables connecting-- for the first time-- the League's nets with those of NATO.
Connectivity was a major issue, but it wasn't Harkness'. Her job was to lay a cable from New York to a point off the coast, and she was behind schedule.
"Move, damn your eyes!"
NATOnet Internet Commission for Assigned Names and Numbers (NICANN) Headquarters, London
Stephen Trueblood sat and stared as the temporary satellite connection between RISL (Réseau Informatique du Sainte Ligue) and NATOnet vomited IP addresses into the NATO system, which compared them to an identical list of NATO IP addresses and sorted those which conflicted with one another into a separate list. That list, numbering thus far a few hundred, denoted computers that would, if RISL and NATOnet were to unify into one network then these would have to be renumbered.
Trueblood leaned back and yawned, watching the status bar creep from left to right. The actual renumbering would be a tiresome process, but thankfully that was to be left to another poor bastard in the Internet Protocol Compatibility division.
Ministry of the Interior, Paris
Le Comte d'Artois looked like a dark, saturnine version of his younger brother Louis. His clothes, elegantly tailored in the 18th century style favoured by the court of France were black and royal purple, rather than the more common white and gold. He was bareheaded, disdaining the powdered wig that so many Frenchmen of Quality wore, and his curly black hair was gathered in a messy ponytail. Taken together, his dress and appearance gave the impression of a hard man, one you wouldn't want to cross. All of the frivolity of Louis-Auguste's appearance was gone, despite similar features, and replaced by a ruthlessness that was chilling.
His opposite was one Dr. Nelson Predevith, Britain's delegate to the NATO Council of Internet Affairs. His post, shared with three others from the USQ, Roycelandia and Japan, gave him co-control of what passed for NATOnet's governing body. Dr. Predevith was of Indian descent, his family longtime residents of Britain. He was a small, white haired man with a large and fluffy moustache and a bad suit. In many ways, he was the stereotypical intellectual.
"Monsigneur, good afternoon, and long live the King." His French, accented as it was by his Oxford-cultured English accent, was execrable. He switched gratefully to English, and continued. "I assume that you've been briefed on why we are here today?" Le Comte nodded and took his seat behind the expansive mahogany desk that dominated the eastern corner of his office. He gestured to continue, picking up a gilt letter opener and twiddling it idly between his manicured fingers.
"Ahem, yes. Well. Our two governments have been discussing linking the RISL and NATOnet into one network. Since the control of RISL rests in part in your Ministry, I'd like to discuss what we'll need to do with either you or an official involved in that." Artois nodded and looked at Predevith expectantly. The doctor, expecting some kind of response, waited until the pause became too uncomfortable to bear.
"The business applications, of course, are impossible to overstate. Since so much of the world's banking takes place electronically, it would make the movement of capital between NATO and the League much easier. In addition, we would probably see an upsurge in business overall. Communications are somewhat complex, since the Continent is, by and large, not plugged in to our nets. E-mail alone would increase productivity significantly. I'm sure, monsigneur, that the economic potential here is clear to you." Predevith paused again.
"Ahem. Your thoughts, monsigneur?"
Off New York, USQ
"Easy! Easy! Sync up the winches!" First Officer Andrea Harkness stood planted on the deck of the RMS Baltic Princess, a Royal Fleet Auxiliary fishing trawler modified to lay submarine fibre-optic cable. Built to withstand North Sea storms by riding them out, the small, sturdy ship pitched a bit in the Atlantic chop. The Baltic's task, shared with perhaps four other RFA trawlers, was to lay connector cables into various east coast cities of the United States. Huge drums of black cable replaced similar drums of net, which spooled out across the stern of the Baltic's stern.
"Move it, people! We've got a rendezvous with the Hooke in three days, and I still see cable on the deck!" Harkness' ship was behind schedule, and the captain had been itching to sail off for their meeting with the ship that was even now preparing to lay the main cable. The four 'subcables' would have to be spliced into the main one to create an uninterrupted trans-Atlantic cable stretching not from the USQ to Britain, for that cable was already in place, but rather to a new router off of Scotland. That router would connect to a planned set of cables connecting-- for the first time-- the League's nets with those of NATO.
Connectivity was a major issue, but it wasn't Harkness'. Her job was to lay a cable from New York to a point off the coast, and she was behind schedule.
"Move, damn your eyes!"
NATOnet Internet Commission for Assigned Names and Numbers (NICANN) Headquarters, London
Stephen Trueblood sat and stared as the temporary satellite connection between RISL (Réseau Informatique du Sainte Ligue) and NATOnet vomited IP addresses into the NATO system, which compared them to an identical list of NATO IP addresses and sorted those which conflicted with one another into a separate list. That list, numbering thus far a few hundred, denoted computers that would, if RISL and NATOnet were to unify into one network then these would have to be renumbered.
Trueblood leaned back and yawned, watching the status bar creep from left to right. The actual renumbering would be a tiresome process, but thankfully that was to be left to another poor bastard in the Internet Protocol Compatibility division.
Ministry of the Interior, Paris
Le Comte d'Artois looked like a dark, saturnine version of his younger brother Louis. His clothes, elegantly tailored in the 18th century style favoured by the court of France were black and royal purple, rather than the more common white and gold. He was bareheaded, disdaining the powdered wig that so many Frenchmen of Quality wore, and his curly black hair was gathered in a messy ponytail. Taken together, his dress and appearance gave the impression of a hard man, one you wouldn't want to cross. All of the frivolity of Louis-Auguste's appearance was gone, despite similar features, and replaced by a ruthlessness that was chilling.
His opposite was one Dr. Nelson Predevith, Britain's delegate to the NATO Council of Internet Affairs. His post, shared with three others from the USQ, Roycelandia and Japan, gave him co-control of what passed for NATOnet's governing body. Dr. Predevith was of Indian descent, his family longtime residents of Britain. He was a small, white haired man with a large and fluffy moustache and a bad suit. In many ways, he was the stereotypical intellectual.
"Monsigneur, good afternoon, and long live the King." His French, accented as it was by his Oxford-cultured English accent, was execrable. He switched gratefully to English, and continued. "I assume that you've been briefed on why we are here today?" Le Comte nodded and took his seat behind the expansive mahogany desk that dominated the eastern corner of his office. He gestured to continue, picking up a gilt letter opener and twiddling it idly between his manicured fingers.
"Ahem, yes. Well. Our two governments have been discussing linking the RISL and NATOnet into one network. Since the control of RISL rests in part in your Ministry, I'd like to discuss what we'll need to do with either you or an official involved in that." Artois nodded and looked at Predevith expectantly. The doctor, expecting some kind of response, waited until the pause became too uncomfortable to bear.
"The business applications, of course, are impossible to overstate. Since so much of the world's banking takes place electronically, it would make the movement of capital between NATO and the League much easier. In addition, we would probably see an upsurge in business overall. Communications are somewhat complex, since the Continent is, by and large, not plugged in to our nets. E-mail alone would increase productivity significantly. I'm sure, monsigneur, that the economic potential here is clear to you." Predevith paused again.
"Ahem. Your thoughts, monsigneur?"