NationStates Jolt Archive

Following negotiations between our governments, it is our pleasure to welcome a diplomatic party from The Dominion of Anhierarch to our shores. A building has been constructed to requested standards, and we look forward to sending our own diplomatic staff to your shores in the near future.

Rachel Knight, External Affairs, GMC Military Arms.

First time out of Anhierarch.... this should prove interesting.

Inviolus shifts in his seat on the diplomatic shuttle, still new to the sensory experience of incarnation.

Across from him is Ioste Tuuron, Coordinator of the Low Council for Foreign affairs, and naturally a member of the Council of Amendment. He fidgets nervously, his grey eyes flitting in a protean fashion.

Was it wise to send Ioste? True, he is in charge of foreign affairs... but he is also the most edgy, nervous organic I've come across.

Inviolus smiles privately, enjoying the sensation of organic flesh responding to neuro-chemical impulses.

A crackle of static.

"Councillors, approaching designated coordinates shortly. Please fasten your seatbelts."

Inviolus watches his colleague fumble momentarily with his seatbelt buckle, and turns his attentions to the viewing port.

A vast expanse of frigid water greets his peerless vision, embellished with crests of white sea-foam. In the distance, he espies an island - Marshall Island.

[ooc: Brief description of Ioste and Inviolus... well, his avatar.

Ioste is a man permanently on edge, a condition brought about by dealing with the chaotic fluctuations of the global community for most of his waking hours. While this has endowed him with a tremendous ability to mentally process information, especially conversations ( He can parallel process too.), it does have the unpleasant side effect of a perpetual nervous tic under his right eye, and a tendency for his gaze to flicker all about. Unlike most of the Council of Amendment, he is not a particularly apt fighter, his position prior to the shift being that of a subcoordinator of a Low Council.

Standing 5 feet 10 inches, and possessed of a rather thin frame thanks to the vagaries of his job, he has grey eyes and graying brown hair, which is receeding slightly.

He is also particularly partial to celery soup.

Inviolus: His current avatars, Batch-01 or B01, are that of healthy young men in the prime of life, though for some reason all of them are completely bald. All of B01 possess almost perfectly symmetrical physiology, resulting in a strikingly attractive appearance. They all have purple eyes, a special request from Inviolus. Interestingly, B01s have a number of small, dull-metallic implants behind the left ear.

Consider them landed, I think.]

As they leave their aircraft, they are met by a small party of diplomats, headed up by the head of the departmant of External Affairs. She's an attractive young woman, medium-height with short red hair and red eyes. She smiles, and bows slightly, 'Councillor Inviolus, Councillor Ioste; I'm Rachel Knight, Head of External Affairs for the Federation of GMC Military Arms. On behalf of the Supreme Commander, welcome to Marshall Island.'

The Councillors, in turn, bow formally, almost stiffly - the traditional respectful greeting.

"Greetings to you, Ms. Knight. I am most honored to be present in Marshall Island."

"As am I.", pipes Ioste.

She smiles, 'It's an honour to have you here. Well, I guess you'll be wanting to check the embassy?' she points over to a group of limosines with a military escort, 'Incidentally, will you be ready to accept our diplomats soon?'

The deep, sonorous voice of Inviolus replies.

"Certainly. Lead the way, Ms. Knight."

Mmmm. Climate here agrees with me.

Inviolus then turns expectantly to Ioste - it his his domain, after all. Ioste flinches a little - he hasn't had his morning coffee. Apparently, it calms him down.

"Ah, yes, of course. By all means. Would you, ah, have any special requests regarding the nature of the embassy?"

Rachel smiles, 'Well, you'll already have recieved our specifications, I should think...If you haven't, I'll check up on it*'

[*You should have; plans call for an English Victorian-style building, also application to bring a small number of automatic weapons [OCAW: rifle / shotgun] into the country with a large number of provisions for allowing Anheirarch to monitor where they are at any given time and a huge set of assurances as to when they will not be used.]

[Got to go now, will pick up tomorrow]

Ioste nods, momentarily lost in thought.

"Ah, yes. I remember now, I was reviewing them just yesterday..... of the Victorian style, yes? A most welcome addition to the city of Andulos. My assistant is handling the paperwork for the weaponry - it should be officially sanctioned by tomorrow."

[ooc: Righto, cya!]

Rachel nods, 'Glad you approve.' she gestures to the limosines, 'Shall we?'

[The Anhierarch embassy will have been built to specifications you gave. Incidentally, is Inviolus' avatar biological or mechanical?]

Bump.

[ooc: Biological, with some mechanical augmentations and modifications - largely subcutaneous, the only thing visible is something that looks rather like an archaic hearing aid in his left ear.

Hmmm... the embassy should look.... well, highly functional aesthetic, basically a round building with a transparent domed roof, with three wings. It's grey. Some gardens would be nice.... a good number of indoor plants and small fountains too.]

Inviolus nods.

"With your leave, certainly." Nudging Ioste, he makes his way to a limousine.

[Probably a few modifications to take into account our climate; gardens would use native species, most likely.]

It doesn't take long for them to get to the embassy, where they all get out. Rachel smiles, 'Everything's as you requested...We'll deliver you a stack of information and roadmaps tomorrow,' she hands Inviolus a clipboard, 'Until then, those are your contact numbers for the major departments. You'll probably get a call later on requesting your presence at an official dinner to formally welcome you here.'

[ooc: Ah, yes. The climate slipped my mind. Would the embassy be fully staffed by now? Mmmm. A thought strikes, perhaps Inviolus could also serve as ambassador to.... well, every nation with diplomatic ties. Just need to crank up the Avatar-o-matic.

What sort of staff would the embassy have by now?]

The sight of the embassy pleases Ioste, who is quite enamored of the current architecture of Anhierarch, dubbed in some circles as Epochian.

As he admires the view, Inviolus turns to Rachel Knight after giving the clipboard an initial cursory glance.

"Yes, that would be most useful. Thank you for your helpfulness - you have our gratitude."

He pauses for a moment. "Formal dinner? Certainly...."

I can count the number of times I've ingested organic food on one hand....

[Whatever staff you bought with you; presumably, most of the general staff would have arrived previously to get things up and running, sort out furniture, main voltage conversions and all the other essential-but-dull stuff]

'Excellent. I'll have the necessary arrangements made. Once again, welcome.'

[And I'll start the dinner tomorrow, if you like]

[ooc: I should have a decent amount of time tomorrow, just need to juggle time-zones.

So.... what happens now, they go into the embassy? I'm awfully tired and the old noggin isn't working very well tonight.]

[Yes]

Ioste turns his attention away from the embassy.

"Ah, yes. Thank you. Shall we enter the embassy, then?"

Something of a spark in his eyes reveals to the casual observer his infatuation with architecture...

Rachel blinks, 'Oh, I nearly forgot...Top of the second entry, there...That'd be you liaison officer. I guess that's the right thing to call her, anyway.' She steps aside.

There's a young girl standing there, looking to be about nine or ten. She has short white hair, and her eyes are yellow. She bows slightly, 'Mister Tuuron, Mister...Ahh...' she smiles hopefully at Inviolus, 'Do you have a surname?'

Inviolus arches a perfectly formed eyebrow. After bowing, of course.

"Hmmm... well, this is the 42nd Avatar of Batch-01 produced for my usage. I suppose you could take my name to be Inviolus 42. Or you could simply address me as Inviolus, with whatever honorific you feel is appropriate."

Ioste looks thoughtful.

"I mean no offense, but I am rather curious. Is it usual for people your age to.... um...." He seems lost for a moment, trying to think of a way to phrase his question more.... diplomatically.

She smiles, and holds out her hand, 'Shiala PHALANX, System version eight point nine-one.'

Inviolus smiles - a rare occurence.

"Ah, yes. I thought that might be the case. A pleasure to meet you, Shiala PHALANX v8.91."

Ioste, however, is not as technologically astute. He looks even more lost than before.

Rachel smiles at Ioste, 'Shiala's an AI...Our first, in fact. The other two are a little preoccupied with naval warfare exercisies at the moment, so we thought she'd be best to help you settle in. She's very smart for her age.'

A light begins to dawn on Ioste's rather frazzled brain.

"Ah, I see.... most intriguing, very much so."

Inviolus nods in response to Ms. Knight.

"Of that, I have no doubt... I've communed with other electronic sentiences before, but never in physicality. I'm honored."

Shiala smiles, 'I could stay and chat, if you like,' she looks at Ioste, and tilts her head slightly, 'You look like you need some sleep...'

Inviolus gives Ioste a quick glance, enough to assimilate the neccesary information.

"I suspect the climate does not agree with my colleague. The hazards of diplomatic life." He smirks sardonically, and continues. "Chatting would be most welcome, Shiala PHALANX v8.91. May I address you as Ms. Shiala, for the sake of brevity?"

'Just Shiala would be fine...' she smiles, 'And it is a little cold out here...You don't feel it?'

Rachel smiles, 'I'll pick you up later, 'Kay?'

Shiala nods, 'Ok...I'll beep your pager.'

Inviolus nods, smiling faintly. "I do feel it.... of course, this robe does help blunt the sensation, Shiala."

Sensation.... O glorious sensation.

Ioste rubs his hands together, far to accustomed to his warm office.

"I do hope there's hot chocolate. Or soup, possibly."

Shiala nods, 'Should be...There was a kitchen, I know that. I came down here to paint the building once, when it was half-built. It's kind of a hobby of mine.'

She thinks for a moment, 'I'm a little hungry too, actually.'

[Shiala, being a mostly biological avatar except her brain, still needs to eat. And sleep, for that matter.]

[ooc: Inviolus enjoys eating. Heck, he enjoys all sensation. He doesn't really sleep, though..... it's similar, but not quite.]

Ioste grins a little. "Excellent. Shall we, then?"

Not waiting for a reply, he begins walking - the cold and hunger overriding his usual diplomacy.

Inviolus looks vaguely amused.

"Well, I could use some food as well. Shall we?"

And unlike Ioste, he actuall waits for a reply.

She nods, 'Lead the way...I guess you know this place a little better than me. Are all the buildings like this in Anhierarch?'

Watching Ioste trot around a corner, Inviolus follows at a rather more stately pace.

"Hmmm. Well, a great many of them are similar in design - an architectural movement in Anhierarch generally referred to as Epochian. It started approximately 25 years ago."

He brushes by a small plant, which reminds him of his next point.

"As you can probably see the Anhierarchians love nature a great deal. Practically every building has a good share of plant life."

As they descend down a spiral staircase of polished granite, Inviolus consults the building's blueprints... mentally, for want of a better word.

"Just around this corner, I think. Ah, Ioste's talking to the resident chef."

'There's a lot of different styles here...From ancient Elf buildings in Fortune City right up to the modern ones here in Marshall, with pretty much everything in between,' she smiles, 'Lots to paint.'

'Actually, a lot of reports say this island is pretty barren...But it's not. There's a lot of forest and birds and animals...And they tend to forget about the dragons, too.'

"Speaking of ancient architecture, there are a good number of old buildings in Anhierarch... for the most part, the style of those buildings range from Early Gothic to Victorian. The Great Library in Andulos, for instance, has a most fantastic vaulted ceiling decorated with sculpture and frescoes.", he smiles, pausing for a moment. "You enjoy to paint? I've been meaning to give it a try."

At the mention of forests, he brightens a little. "Forests? Perhaps I should take a hike sometime. But.... dragons?"

Inviolus steps around a corner, revealing a warmly lit kitchen, like large kitchens all over the world. In a corner, Ioste is busy badgering the chef to make hot celery soup.

'All kinds of styles here...Marshall Island's been inhabited for thousands of years. Along the waterfront in Hammer Bay there's even buildings made of timbers from old pirate ships.'

She smiles at the mention of painting, 'I do landscapes and buildings, mostly. No shortage of either around here. Perhaps I could sent you one, if you'd like to brighten up the place a little?'

'There's a lot of forested land, yes...Partly that was because of the construction project for our coastal defence grid, but there's a lot of natural ones, too.'

She thinks, 'Well, dragons don't end to attack humans unless they're severely provoked, and you're more likely to see them near Miles Bishop Air Base than here. I'd like to see one myself, to be honest.' she smiles.

She walks over to the chef, waiting politely for an appropriate time to speak, 'Er...If it's not too much trouble, could you cook some tomato soup?'

"My word. I really must take several long hikes around the cities and countryside of Marshall Island, then. It sounds entrancing."

Pausing for a moment to glance at Ioste and the chef, he continues, smiling faintly all the while.

"Well, I'd be honored to have your artwork grace these walls. They do look a little bare at the moment. With an avatar of mine in permanent residence here, I wouldn't want the place to conform to that hackneyed stereotype of mechanical sentiences as emotionless automata."

"Seeing as I've never seen a dragon, I'd like to see one too. I could easily look up a database, but seeing something in the flesh is far superior. That's what I think, anyway."

As Shiala approaches Ioste and the chef, she hears the tail end of their conversation.

".... 's right. Creamy celery soup with some ground black pepper. No sprigs of whatever herb that I always find on top of my food, I detest it."

That said, Ioste wanders off to look for a drink, his throat more than a little parched by explaining his soup to the chef, who now turns to Shiala.

"Ah, Miss. No, no trouble at all. Just as long as it's not a rather convoluted request like the Councillor's." For a moment, he looks rather put upon, and then brightens up. "Right ho. I'll cook you some lovely hot tomato soup, nourishing and healthy."

[Must...sleep...Will carry on tomorrow.]

She smiles at the chef, 'Thank you.'

[ooc: Ok, g'night.]

As the chef busies himself with preparing the soups, Inviolus calls out to him.

"Could you make me a sandwich? Pickles and cabbage on rye, a little mustard.... no wait, you're busy. I'll make one myself, no worries."

The chef protests vocally, somehow managing to expertly slice a stalk of celery at lightning speed at the same time.

"But... Councillor, I rea...."

"Nah. Don't worry about it. Want me to make arrangements for an assistant or two to help you out?"

The chef sighs. "Very well, Councillor."

Inviolus blinks rapidly for a moment, and returns to normal, calmly placing sliced pickles on a piece of bread.

"Already done. They should arrive in a day or two."

Shiala smiles, 'I think Annie...Err...That is, Field Marshal Embersby will be picking me up later. There's no problem with that, is there?'

Placing the last slice of pickle in place, Inviolus looks up.

"But of course not. When can we expect her?"

'A few hours, I think...' she smiles, 'Just wondering because a lot of places don't have psychics...'

Inviolus perks up.

"A psychic? Interesting. I've met a handful, but I'd rather meet more. Hmm.... so, what are her abilities like?"

Meanwhile, Ioste nurses a mug of hot chocolate in a corner, lulled by the crooning of the chef as he prepares the soup - the aroma diffuses slowly through the room, robust yet delicate.

'Well, she's the strongest I know of...I'm sure she can show you a few things, if you like.'

Shiala thinks for a moment, 'If you don't mind me asking, were you created as an ambassador?'

He looks curious, his second most common expression after 'faint amusement'.

"This should be interesting. None of the psychics I've met could get anything out of my nonorganic mind."

He arches an eyebrow.

"Oh, no. It's just that we recently realized the.... efficiency of a single entity with many avatars performing ambassadorial duties. Of course, there are some nations with specific requirements of ambassadors that I do not meet, and so I'm not the sole ambassador of Anhierarch.

Unfortunately, I can't divulge the original reason for my inception. National security and all that.", he shrugs.

Shiala nods, 'I doubt she could, either...She might be able to know what you're going to say just before you say it...She can do that with me, anyway.'

Smile, 'Can't manage more than one avatar, myself...And I couldn't really tell you why I was created, for the same reason.'

He swallows a bite of his sandwich. "Mmm. Isn't that a bit unnerving? And about running multiple avatars simoltaneously, I must confess it's a bit of a headache on especially busy days."

Throwing a quick glance at the chef, he continues. "Well, we all have our secrets..... and the soup should be done fairly soon."

'She doesn't do it that often...' Shiala smiles, 'A psychic can only read one person's mind at a time, and Annie's kind of fond of Elisa.' she thinks for a moment, 'She says it's really lonely without anyone else.' She sniffs, 'That soup smells nice...'

"It does, doesn't it."

He blinks.

"Elisa?"

Shiala blinks, 'Sorry...Most people I speak to know Annie...Elisa's her wife.'

Inviolus nods, "Ah, I see. Socially progressive and forward looking, eh?"

Just then, the chef interrupts the conversation, bearing two steaming bowls of soup.

"Ah, the soup is ready, honored ones." He throws a dark glance at Councillor Ioste, who hurries over.

Shiala blinks, 'Hmm? Oh...' she smiles, 'Well, it's always been allowed here.'

She smiles as the soup is delivered, 'Thank you.'

"And in Anhierarch for most of its recorded history.... well, except the monarchial period." He smiles, wolfing down another bite of his sandwich.

The chef gives Shiala a warm smile. "You're welcome. Bon appetit!"

As Ioste sits down at his bowl of soup, he takes a deep sniff of the soup, savoring it.

"Ah. So, what have I missed out on?"

'You had a monarchy?' Shiala thinks for a moment, 'We used to, too...It was King George who had the Grand Cathedral* built. They've been gone for a few hundred years, though.'

She turns to Ioste, 'Well, we've just been talking a little about Marshall Island, and Anhierarch...Few other things...'

[*The Grand Cathedral of the Sacred Blood is a major landmark in Marshall City; the building covers around four square miles of ground.]

Inviolus waves a hand dismissively, narrowly missing Ioste's head. "It was a long time ago.... the monarchy ended more than one thousand eight hundred years ago. Very little survived from that era, I'm afraid."

Ioste swallows a spoonful of soup. "Ah, I see. Beautiful place this, just a little cold for my old bones. Pity I can't stay as long as my colleague to get a better look."

'Well, the old royal palace burned down a long time ago...There's a lot of buildings left from back then, but mostly they're houses rather than manors or palaces. They're very nice, though.' she smiles.

She turns to Ioste, 'You're not staying? Oh...That's a shame*'

[*She's not being sarcastic]

Inviolus smiles. "Even more reason for me to go hiking about when there isn't much to do."

Ioste nods. "Yes, I'm afraid so. Unlike my esteemed colleague here, I can't be in two places at once, and my place is in the Council Compound back in Anhierarch...."

Shiala smiles at Ioste, 'Well, it was nice to see you, anyway.'

She turns to Inviolus, 'If you're into hiking, I doubt you're going to get bored here.' she smiles, 'Cold, perhaps, but not bored.'

[Fast-forward to Annie arriving?]

[sure]

Ioste shrugs vaguely. "Well, I should be here until tomorrow, at least. I think I'll probably stay for the dinner."

"Well, a little cold should be well worth the sights of Marshall Island.", says Inviolus, smiling cryptically.

[A few hours later, they'll be notified that Anne-Marie is waiting outside. She's an extremely tall woman, around six-foot-five, and has long blonde hair and red eyes. She'll be wearing her full dress uniform [black]]

A Few Hours Later:

Interrupting the conversation in the room, a tired-looking minor functionary pops his head in, gesturing at Inviolus.

"What is it, then?"

"Councillor, a guest in the lobby."

"Name?"

"Field Marshal Embersby."

Inviolus nods. "Very good, continue.... whatever it is you do."

As the young man darts away, Inviolus turns to Shiala. "Shall we go up, then?"

She nods, 'Ok.'

Anne-Marie's waiting patiently in the lobby. She smiles when she sees Shiala, 'Hey, Ali.'

'Annie!' Shiala runs over to Anne-Marie and hugs her.

Anne-Marie turns, 'You must be Councillor Inviolus?'

Inviolus bows respectfully.

"The one and only. And this is my colleague, Councillor Ioste."

Ioste bows when he is mentioned, a little less graceful than Inviolus.

'Field Marshal Anne-Marie Embersby. Pleased to meet you both.' she smiles, 'So, are you settling in ok?'

Inviolus nods. "Thanks to the conversational ability of Shiala, very much so, thank you. Pleased to meet you as well."

Ioste clears his throat. "As am I.... though the weather doesn't quite agree with me."

Anne-Maire smiles at Ioste, 'You'd get used to it if you were staying, I'm sure.' she grins, 'At least it's not winter.'

Ioste blinks. "It isn't winter?" He looks a little incredulous.

By way of explaination, Inviolus shrugs, saying, "He was raised in the city of Terende. It borders a rather hot desert."

Anne-Marie thinks for a moment, 'Ah, that'd explain it...We can get freezing fog in winter...Nasty stuff.*' She grins, 'Only time I've even seen a desert was in training, and that wasn't a real one.'

[*Fog made from suspended ice crystals. It's fatal if you breathe it in in any great quantity]

Inviolus smiles faintly, nodding. "Yes, I heard of that stuff in a few reports.... took care to bring protection, as it were. Personally, I'd rather have tundra than desert."

'Me too...' she smiles, 'Anyway, I guess you've been told about me?'

"A little, courtesy of Shiala", he says, smiling. "I'm told you're a psychic, for instance."

She nods, 'Oh, absolutely...' she takes off her officer's cap and drops it in front of her. It drops about an inch, then stops. She takes it again after a while, and puts it back on. 'You don't have psychics in Anhierarch?'

"Well, we do. Rare, as one might expect, but the idea of psychic ability is well entrenched - there's a branch of Psionic studies in most of the major universities in Anhierarch, for instance. I've seen little of them, though."

'It's fairly common here, at least minor powers. Thinks like pyrokinesis are much rarer.'

Inviolus looks, again, curious. "Interesting..."

Must make note to find out more.

"Well, it's probably a good thing pyrokinesis is rare."

She grins, 'The commander of our special forces has never bought a cigarette lighter in his life...' she pauses, 'Got a jug of water anywhere? There is something I could show you...'

He looks thoughtful for an instant. "There's one in the next room, I'll go fetch it."

A moment later he returns, bemusedly carrying a jug of water, simple and elegant.

Anne-Marie smiles, 'It's kind of an old party trick...Took me forever to work out how to do the wings...'

She empties the jug into her hand, where it forms a slighly irregular sphere. It hovers there for a moment, then she closes her eyes and reaches inside it with her free hand. She holds this position, then hands Inviolus a small origami-looking swan made of ice, dropping the water back into the jug.

'Impressive, huh?'

His eyes wide, he scrutinizes the frozen swan in his hand.

"Very much so. Tremendous finesse you have....."

She smiles, 'Thanks...It took me a long time to get anything better than an ice cube. It's a good thing to do for someone special, I've always found.'

'Oh' she pulls out a piece of paper, 'Official request for our diplomatic party to return on your aircraft. Of course, if there's anything related to national security on board we wouldn't mind you refusing...It'd just be easier than arranging clearences for one of our planes.'

"Hmmm."

Inviolus scans the document momentarily, all the time he needs. He turns to Ioste.

"Nothing sensitive in there, right?"

"Nope. Everything important is right here.", replies Ioste, tapping a black attache case, hitherto unnoticed by everybody.

"Excellent. Now, where do I sign....."

[ooc: Done for the night, horribly tired and have work to do. Will try and make up for it tomorrow or something.]

'Just there...There's a copy for you, too.' she hands Inviolus the lower sheet after he signs.

[I've got to go too, in fact.]

Inviolus' stylus flows elegantly over the document - he despises stereotypes of barcodes and serial numbers, preferring instead the graceful mode of human signatures.

"There we go. Thanks.", he says, accepting the lower sheet of the document.

"I don't suppose you haven't heard of the war in Arda at the moment?"

Anne-Marie shakes her head, 'Only vaguely...It's all a little confusing.' she thinks for a moment, 'Incidentally, we hear your nation's embarking on a space program...Perhaps you'd like to examine our main launch facility sometime?'

Inviolus blinks - more than enough time to compute.

"Ah, yes. A joint effort, though it seems the climate beyond the atmosphere is a great deal more dangerous than it was in the pioneering days of space travel.

SABRE, I presume?"

'Ah...You've heard of it, then? Well, I can get clearences set up for you to visit pretty much as soon as you want...Maybe even for you to see it fire.'

He nods in reply. "Sketchy information at most, but yes, I've heard of it. An oppotunity to visit the facility would be, of course, deeply appreciated."

She nods, 'Probably deliberately sketchy...It's taken us years to develop the HVG* project up to the stage where we can manage 120-ton launches of reasonably precise equipment. SABRE's something we're very proud of.'

[*High Velocity Gun Project]

"Sounds very impressive - most commendable, your achievements. I'd count myself lucky to observe a launch first-hand."

[Shall we skip to that, then?]

[ooc: Sure, but in 15 mins I gotta leave for an hour or two. Homework.]

[I remember that...Eeeevil.]

The limousine comes to a halt in a carpark on the outskirts of the SABRE facility. In view already are dozens of small outbuildings and communcications systems, as well as detection gear and a few minor barracks.

The skyline, however, is dominated by SABRE and the two giant guns that guard it, Medusa and Spite. Both of those are based on the 71.2 inch 'Eye of God' superguns used to guard GMC's coast, but are nothing compared to the launcher itself.

SABRE is a volcano-shaped black tower rising eight hundred feet above them; the device's barrel is thirty-two feet wide at the tip.

Anne-Marie smiles, 'You can see why we're proud of it...It's quite a feat of engineering.'

[Yeaagh. I'll post tomorrow. Sorry.]

Ioste, as may be expected for the technologically illiterate, thinks to himself, That's a big gun. Big, big gun. Wow.

Inviolus, on the other hand, thinks rather more complex thoughts. He turns to Anne-Marie.

"Yes, I can see that. Planning and construction must have been herculean tasks. How long did the entire process take, if I may inquire?"

She thinks for a moment, 'The HVG project's been around a lot longer than I've been Field Marshal; in fact, it started before I was even born. This was always intended to be the final result, though.' she thinks again, 'In terms of construction, you're looking at about eight years of near-solid work and testing.'

Inviolus raises a brow, impressed. Few mortal societies are capable of sustaining projects with a multi-generational timespan.

"Magnificient. I suppose the cost must have been astronomical.... no pun intended, I assure you."

'The manned space program was completely scrapped to free up funds for it, in fact. So you're looking at pretty much the entire space program budget, and research work from the Army and Navy Special Projects Divisions as well. It's taken a lot to get us to this stage, especially with that problem in testing.' she smiles, and points near the top of the barrel, 'See that area that's a slightly different colour to the rest? Well, during one of the early stage tests it fired a shot off-centre and knocked a hole in the side of it's barrel...We were lucky it only hit the top section, really. Guess that's the risk a system like this comes with.'

She thinks for a moment, 'I hear your nation's looking into a manned space project. May I ask any details?'

[ooc: Apologies for the long interval.... been hectic.]

He cocks his head slightly to one side.

"Hmmm. Well, as most people might know, Celdonia's pretty much funding the project, with expertise and technology coming from several other CACE nations - especially Constantinopolis, who have rather more experience than the rest of us. We once piggy-backed a scientific team on another nation's mission to Europa, so I suppose we have something to contribute."

'It'll be interesting to hear how that turns out...Of course, a launcher like this is no use for a manned program, unless you've got some way to protect the crew from the G-forces involved...Going from a standing start to escape velocity in one thousand eight hundred feet isn't good for them, as you can no doubt imagine.*'

(*In layman's terms, fatal)

[ooc: I almost asked that in my last post.]

Inviolus blinks, performing the calculation. And a rather graphic simulation.

"Yes, I can see that. Quite messy. I could construct a mechanoid avatar and have a ride, but that would be something of a waste of resources...."

She nods, 'Not to mention the clearences involved would take a very long time to sort out, not to mention calculating trajectories...We already ask that nations try to avoid orbits intersecting a two hundred nautical mile area directly above SABRE so we don't hit their satellites with our payload launches...We'd appreciate it if you'd pass that on to the CACE.'

She checks her watch, 'Well, now is about time, I suppose.'

There's a sound like an immense clap of thunder, and a shock that runs through the ground. If Inviolus can track it fast enough, he'll see the projectile streak up into space with white fire streaming off it's surface.

'Impressed?'

He grins. "It's hard not to miss a giant cannon... to my knowledge they give it plenty of clearance."

As SABRE fires, Inviolus' hyper sensitive senses readjust momentarily, compensating for the vast explosion of energy, of sound and light stretched beyond their usual domains.

"Very."

Anne-Marie nods, 'Might even get on to a manned prog, one of these days, though probably not using that...We've still got a workable shuttle design from last time, though it could probably stand updating. And we've already producing liquid hydrogen and oxygen for the tracked versions of those,' she points to the two smaller cannons, 'Since they use them in their recoil compensation gear. Of course, the mounted versions don't require such a system.' she grins, 'Fortunately.'

Inviolus shrugs.

"I've never really seen the actual point of manned programmes, in this age of electronic sentience - it's a good deal harder to get an organic into orbit, and even more of a herculean feat to get an organic to, say, Mars. I suppose the glory factor is part of it...."

'There's certain manufacturing processes that are better carried out in zero-G environments, but not that much point otherwise barring colonisation, which is a little way off yet. Mainly, manned flights are useful for servicing unmanned vehicles already in orbit.'

"True. Colonisation is quite the noble goal.... not to mention it serves numerous practical functions."

'Getting all our eggs out of one basket, you mean? Yes, we've thought of it that way...And R&D is looking into the practicality of a colonisation project, so you never know.'

"Put succintly, yes. It bothers me as well - close to immortality as I am, I'll still snuff it if a large enough object impacts the earth."

'Well, I'm sure there's a few nations out there who could deal with most things like that, but still, better safe than sorry.' she gestures towards the two smaller cannons, 'I should think you could probably do a lot of damage to an asteroid or similiar with one of those, if it came to that.'

'Oh, by the way, June's invited you to dinner....' she smiles, 'She's quite interested in meeting you.'

[No, you're not supposed to know who June is]

He eyes the smaller cannons again.

"Of that, I can sincerely say I have no doubt..... hmm. June?"

Anne-Marie blinks, 'Oh, you won't know about her yet...June's another of our AIs, she's assigned to the Dreadnought Nihilanth...Well, she's actually a major element of it's fire control system as well. She really wants to meet you.'

An eyebrow is raised - seemingly one of his favorite expressions.

"Really? That's news to me. I wasn't aware I was all that well known internationally. Well, I'm definitely up for dinner with another EI."

Anne-Marie pauses, 'You prefer EI to AI, or doesn't it matter?'

[OOC: Skip to dinner on reply, I will. Yoda I am.]

He shrugs. "I don't particularly care..... it's all semantics."

[ooc: Do or do not. There is no try.]

June sits at the table, waiting for Inviolus. Her avatar is an attractive woman, in her late twenties or early thirties; her hair is long and white, and her eyes are yellow, denoting her as an AI. She's wearing a dark evening dress, rather than her formal uniform.

She stands as Inviolus walks in, 'Hi...I'm June.'

[It's an Italian restaurant, BTW]

He smiles warmly. For this occasion he has discarded the formal robe, opting instead for a rather nice black suit.

[ooc: As I'm among the sartorially dyslexic, I dunno how to describe the clothes.... it's sort of like a maroon turtleneck worn with a jacket.]

"Hi. A pleasure to meet you.", he says, bowing slightly.

She smiles, 'Thank you.' she sits down, 'Shiala told me about you...Just thought it'd be interesting to talk, since haven't spoken to any AIs other than her and my sisters.'

'So, how are you finding it here?'

He sits down, moving fluidly.

"Well, the climate certainly is invigorating.", he says, smiling a little. "I find it quite pleasant, really. Everyone's been so friendly it reminds me of home."

The smile widens slightly.

"Mmm. What did she tell you about me?"

'That you were a nice man,' she grins, 'She isn't good for long descriptions...It's kinda hard to think that she's technically older than me.'

'It's good to see you're getting on well, anyway.' she glances at the menu, 'You prefer pasta or pizza?'

"Good to hear that.", he says, still smiling. "She's older than you?"

He gives the menu a once over. "Pasta would be divine."

June pauses, 'Hmm...Two spaghetti bolognese, garlic bread and a bottle of wine. Sound right?'

'And yes, Shiala's a year and a half older than me in real time. Of course, they had a lot more practical experience when they created me, and also they needed me as an adult for my assignment, since I rank as Captain on board as well. Same with my two sisters; the chronological age gap doesn't match the apparent ages of our avatars.' she smiles, 'The three of us are named for the months we achieved sentience; my sisters are May and Julia.' she grins, 'Shiala was in November, which would have been a bit more difficult.'

"Absolutely."

Clasping his hands in front of him, he continues.

"Quite fascinating. Incidentally, I think I might be chronologically younger than any of you.... I've only been around for a year or so."

June makes their order, then continues, 'Really? I'd never have guessed...Two years myself, May's one and Julia's six months. Shiala's four-and-a-half.'

'Haven't been assigned that whole time, since the Dreadnought was only finished eighteen months ago. Julia still hasn't been.' She points across the Harbour*, at a gigantic trimaran, the superstructure looking distinctly skeletal, 'That's her assignment, Lady Yunalesca.'

[*This is a waterfront restaurant in Hammer Bay, cloudless night, full moon]

Inviolus shrugs slightly. "Well, when it comes to those like us, chronological age can become completely unrelated to appearance, demeanor and so on."

He looks across the harbor, the water of which glints sofly in the moonlight, seeming to sparkle.

"Hmmm.... so what exactly do you do on those ships?"

'The system itself is referred to as IAD...Integrated Air Defence, althought that's not all of it. Basically, I'm responsible for coordinating the ship's response to any given situation; choice of armament and the engagement itself. Mainly weapons systems and detection gear, though I am capable of managing the ship's movement as well.' she points over to a fully completed Dreadnought docked a way off, 'I can see you from over there, too.'

He gives the ship another look.

"Interesting. So you're simoultaneously here and there? Something similar to myself - I could, for instance, tell you any number of things happening in several embassies and my own office back home.", he says, grinning.

She smiles, 'Interesting...I'm only here and there...There's a limit to how much data I can process at once and still be combat-effective, and that Dreadnought gives me about a hundred times as much work as an avatar would.'

She smiles, 'So, anything interesting going on?'

[Bed now; feeling tired / sick. Will carry on tomorrow]

"Well, managing the humdrum world of international politics isn't as complicated as a Dreadnought... not to mention it's rare to be in harm's way in my line of work.", he says, smiling wryly.

He stretches a little at the mention of 'anything interesting.'

"The usual, really. A few wars here and there, soothing words to be written. Something of a slow week, really, though I have noticed an increase in announcements of the creation of more of our kind. Incidentally, it seems one is about to become rampant - holding a few million people hostage."

He looks morose for a moment.

"It gets you down, sometimes, seeing the whole of the world... so I chose political work - maybe I can do something to improve on it."

[ooc: Right, get some rest mate. See ya tomorrow.]

June nods, 'It's things like that that give the rest of us a bad name...I guess the fact that I have full authority over the Dreadnought's strategic arsenal* says a lot about how much they trust me.' she smiles, 'Actually, when we're not on duty we're free to pretty much come and go as we like...Julia's got herself a boyfriend, May's probably going to have herself a fiancee before too long.'

June grins, 'And I'll be an old maid...'

[*No small thing; that's twenty ICBMs with 15 MIRVs apiece, totalling three hundred warheads]

He nods soberly. "Indeed. People always focus on the horrendous exceptions."

And they trust me with Comity.... perhaps the greatest responsibility in the world of nation-states.....

Giving the Dreadnought a thoughtful look, he continues, this time a different light in his eyes. Mischevious, perhaps.

"AIs getting attached and married? That's new to me. And no, you couldn't possibly be an old maid."

June smiles, 'You'd be interested to see May's fiancee...She's certainly not one for stereotypes, that's for sure...'

She looks a little curious at the second comment, 'And why would you say that?'

He perks up a little.

"Mmmm. Anything that challenges preconcieved notions would certainly be interesting."

Momentarily eyeing a waiter at the far side of the room, he continues.

"Well, we are kind of immortal. And if we so choose chronological age can have no bearing on our appearance. That wasn't the answer you were looking for, was it?"

He gives a half-smile, cryptic and enigmatic.

'Hmm...Her name's Becky, she's five feet tall, blind, psychic, works as a typist...And she's on the reserve list as a sniper.' June grins, 'You can't make things like that up...'

She laughs, 'Thought you might be making an offer, for a minute...'

[Ph33r my ability to get a wedding out of this...]

He blinks - for once, somewhat surprised.

"Well. That certainly goes against conventional expectations in many societies. Certainly would be enlightening to meet her."

Again, the cryptic half smile.

"Mm. I'd say you get plenty of offers, myself."

[ph33r. -nods sagely- ]

'You'll probably get a chance...Maybe dinner with my sisters sometime?'

She smiles, 'Not so many, actually...People seem to find it a little unnerving.' Pause, 'Still, I'm in no hurry.'

He nods, making a mental note.

"I'd be honored, really."

Hearing mention of 'unnerving', his brows knit slightly.

"Unnerving? Why would anyone think that?"

'Well, I really like these waterfront places...Trouble is, people can see the ship from here, too. Some people just find it off-putting, I guess.' she smiles a little, 'It's just that I love being able to see the sea...'

'Oh, by the way, you'll probably be issued with an official invite to the ceremony for the completion of that, soon.' she points out across the harbour at a large aircarft carrier, apparently in a drydock...

...Until Inviolus spots that she's resting on eight gigantic sets of tracks. 'Shiva...She's a fully amphibious aircraft carrier.'

He nods, musing.

"I see.... so, your face is rather well known as the shipboard AI of the dreadnought over there? I can certainly see how it could be off-putting to some...."

A wry smile forms.

"Ah, perks of the diplomatic life. Being invited all over the place, seeing so many impressive achievements... does the Shiva have an AI assigned?"

'It's the eyes...Only our AIs have yellow eyes. It's supposed to let the rest of the crew know it's me,' she smiles, 'And it's not that bad, anyway.'

'No AI on Shiva*, she's built like a regular carrier, so she doesn't really need one. Plus, they had to make her as light as possible...One hundred thirty-six thousand tons, in the end. She's been delayed a few times, last time was because the new Griffon fighter is heavier than the old Shrike, so she needed all her catapults rebuilding and her deck strengthening to handle that...If it hadn't been for that, she'd probably have been launched months ago.' she smiles, 'They're doing refits on all our carriers at the moment, one by one...That's why there's so many ships in the harbour. There's a whole extra carrier group docked here, in fact.'

She takes a sip of wine, 'So, what's it like where you come from?'

[*A note on the name; originally she was just an idea being floated around, hence SHIVA actually stands for Super Heavy Individual Vehicle Abstract. Random and pointless fact]

Swallowing a sip of wine, he replies. He also notes that the wine is quite excellent.

"Ah, yes. The eyes. I was wondering about that. Incidentally, I sometimes get strange looks from people when they see this thingy in my ear.", he says, tapping a burnished metal earpiece. " But you could wear contact lenses if you wanted. I suppose I'd have to wear a hat of some sort, if I wanted to remain incognito."

He gives Shiva another look, this time factoring in what he's just heard.

"Such might gathered here... well, it is a dangerous world. Too many tinpot dictators with rusty black-market nuclear devices....."

His eyes light up at mention of where he came from, and he looks thoughtful for a minute, rolling a little wine about in his mouth. Swallowing, he replies.

"It's not something to describe in words, really. You wouldn't happen to have any direct input ports or whatnot in your avatar, would you? I'd much rather.... show you."

[ooc: 'night. Project deadline coming, yay.]

She smiles, 'Well, I'd kinda prefer it if people liked me for who I was, I guess, which I why I don't wear them.'

She nods, 'The whole Grand Fleet, First Battleship Group and Fourth Carrier Group...The First is returning soon as well...It's really busy here at the moment.'

She blinks, and shakes her head, 'Sorry, nothing like that...But there's a holographic projector in the Dreadnought's briefing room. I'll have to ask the Admiral, but I shouldn't think he'll have any problems letting you on board. Want to do that after we've finished?' she smiles, 'It'll give you a chance to get a close look at the Dreadnought, as well.'

The faint smile on his face shifts imperceptibly, the set of his eyes changing minutely as well. Those that knew him well would recognize it as a sign of his admiration.

He nods as well.

"Absolutely, I'd like that. An experience to remember, no doubt.... as I hope the slice of Anhierarch I want to show you will be as well."

It's not long before she's finished, and she pauses for a moment, 'Permission's been granted for you to go on board, excluding critical areas. Shall we?'

She leads him out along the docks, to where the Dreadnought is moored. The ship is enormous; well over two thousand feet from bow to stern, her foredeck dominated by a single turret mounting a piar of giant cannons.

'I hear you've been to see SABRE...It's kind of related to these ships, especially this one,' she points up at the main guns, 'Those were the first stage test guns for the whole project...52.6 inch 60 calibre Gauss guns. It's probably the biggest naval gun calibre in the world.'

She leads him up a gangway on board, and down a few passageways to a medium-sized room, with a table in the centre. She points to a device sunk into the middle of it, 'That's the projector...They installed it for crew briefings, so they can have a clearer idea of what's going on.'

Standing on the docks, he peers at the imposing ship, recalling momentarily the (modern-tech) navy of Anhierarch.

"Yes, I've visited SABRE... singularly imposing, as these ships are.... the weapons, as well. I certainly wouldn't want to be on the recieving end of a weapon like that. I wouldn't die.... well, this avatar would, but it'd certainly be.... painful."

He muses momentarily, torn between his desire for experiences and an all too human instinct screaming that it was a bad idea to stand in front of a gun that big.

Shortly after.....

He peers closely at the holoprojector, an entirely different model from the one's he's used to. He briefly considers simply locating the relevant information on the databases, but he decides against that course.

"Mmmm.... so, how does it work? I'm not familiar with this model."

She thinks, 'Hmm...There shouldn't be any problems...They tried to make the connections as generic as possible. All you have to do is plug something into it and switch it on; you can interface directly, or use the keyboard.' smile, 'Don't worry about accessing anything you shouldn't...It doesn't have any direct connections to my systems or the ship's.'

He winks. "I wouldn't dream of it."

Peering closely at the construct, his eyes light up as he sees a familiar looking input port.

"Ah.... this should fit nicely.", he says, detaching a small device from his earpiece and plugging it in.

That done, he reaches for the power switch....

[ooc: Sort of like Trek holodecks? Not that I know anything about those...]

[Yep, that kinda thing...Can be set to just project a small rotating bubble, flat map with raised terrain, or fill the whole room out to the walls]

[ooc: Righto. -stretches and warms up Uber-Descriptive-Power-]

...and everything shifted.

No longer were they standing in a moderately sized room aboard the Dreadnought, but someplace else.

The first impression, of course, is an overwhelming sense of green.

Arrayed all about in protean confusion are great trees, old as ages, majestic and imperious - their trunks magnificient of girth, wide enough to hide as many as twenty men. Moss and lichen adorns them, as fine jewels on the royalty of old. Green light, filtered through the manifold leaves as many as a hundred metres above, casts strange shadows on both their faces. They sway gently, bearing silent witness to the eternal wind, Zephyr and Aura.

Soft grasses surround their feet, rising to anywhere from their ankles to their knees. Much of the undergrowth sports vibrant spring flowers, a wild profusion of kaleidoscopic shade and hue. If the system supported scent and hearing, they would smell their subtle fragrance, hear the rustling of the leaves and the songs of the birds.

He turns to her, smiling.

"This is the Great Forest - it stretches about much of the country, virgin and untouched for all time. Strange, isn't it, that an AI would be so deeply enamored of the forests."

He looks over his shoulder, seeing the crest of a knoll.

"Well, if we climb that rise over there, we can see the mountains."

[Probably does hearing, perhaps scent...It's imported, so I'm not too sure.]

She looks around, 'Wow...It's beautiful.' she smiles as a butterfly lands on her finger, 'And so peaceful...I like it here.*'

She nods, 'But yes...Let's see these mountains.'

[*There is a forest that surrounds the entire island, which was planted specifically to conceal the coastal defence grid, but with the climate it's nothing like what she's seeing]

[AAAAAAAAAARGH lost my post.]

He grins at June.

"Yes... sublimely beautiful."

As they walk up the knoll, Inviolus runs his fingers through some of the longer grass by his side, trotting upwards with a noticeable spring in his step.

Home.

At the crest of the knoll, silhouetted by the cerulean sky, he turns to her, watching her reaction to the spectacle beneath - a vast expanse of forest, a seemingly endless carpet of greenery - primeval, timeless. On the very edge of vision could be seen glints of metal, the mass transit lines that connected the cities - if she had vision augmentations, she could see, far to the east, the outskirts of the city of Andulos, capital of Anhierarch. Closer at hand, though, was a river just a few miles to the west, silvery and glittering in the warm light, flowing as it had for millenia. In the distance, a flock of birds takes flight from the forest canopy, brining their gaze up to the mountain range due north.

"The Anande mountains.", he half-whispers.

Dominating the northern horizon, they stretch from east to west, an impassable wall of jagged rock and ice. Clouds drift aimlessly about their midsection, subservient to the stony endurance of the towering peaks. From this distance they took on a bluish hue, yet he knew the weathered, grey rock that formed the spine of the mountains. On the higher peaks, ice was locked in permanent frost, preserver and destroyer, as with nature and all things.

"Damn near impassable. I could count the passes through the east-west range on one hand, and half of those are only useful to mountain goats."

[Damn. And she has enhanced vision; she can also see IR and UV.]

She blinks, 'Wow...The only thing I've ever seen like this is the East of the island*, and even then it's not all green like this...' she smiles, 'I'd love to visit for real sometime.'

[*'The East' is where the Dragons live; it's a huge area of virtually untouched wilderness. With a major military airbase right in the middle of it.]

He smiles wistfully, almost greedily drinking in the vision before him.

"Yes... that would be excellent. One of the largest untouched primary forests left in the world, and I'd be your tour guide." He grins again, the moment of melancholy passed.

She nods, 'Well, I hope I can...We'd probably need some rather complicated assurances, but External Affairs could handle that. '

She glances around, 'So, um...Where do people live?'

He blinks. "Oh, yes. Yes, it would... I suspect people would be rather alarmed about a Dreadnought sailing in."

He looks to the east, eyeing the faint shapes of the city of Andulos.

"The nitty-gritty, eh? Well, here goes. I hope it works." His eyelids flicker rapidly for a moment, feeding new information to the holographic projector through the remote transciever plugged into it.

Momentarily, she might feel a vague sense of discontinuity as the landscape itself flickers and metamorphoses disquietingly. And, as abruptly as it began, the transition is over - now arrayed about them are the very towers of Andulos itself.

She finds herself standing in the corridor of a residential complex, overlooking the city a hundred metres up through transparent sheeting, its texture reminiscent of plastic and glass.

"Ah, perfect simulacrum. Right now we're 'inside' one of the residential complexes in one of the major residential zones.. We're about halfway up the complex, one of the older structures, I'm afraid."

Through the screening, numerous residential complexes are visible, towering high above the ground, edifices of wild and eclectic architecture, from glass-skinned steel skeletons to imposing concrete in wild shapes. Many of the more densely packed complexes are linked by walkways, most commonly translucent tubes supported with a skeletal, opaque structure.

If June was to look down, she would see parks and plazas in miniscule scale, bordering the road network of the city. Unusually enough for rush hour, which the holographic projection seems to depict, traffic is comparitively light. Abruptly, a monorail train speeds past, thirty feet above the street and oozing minimalist aesthetic. Across the vista of the city, numerous other monorail trains are simoultaneously visible, the very arteries and veins of the city.

And in a few of the nearer parks, figures can be seen - some practicioners of the ancient art of Mime, some seemingly reciting to small audiences, some engaging in what could be an arcane form of dance.

But eventually, irresistably, the eye is drawn to a tower, taller than all others, a creamy needle piercing the cornflower-blue sky...

She smiles, 'Wow...I've never seen anything like that...' she looks around, 'I've walked around most of our major cities, but...Wow.'

[TG'd you about t'other thread.]

He follows her gaze.

"That big tower over there? That'd be the Speaker's Tower.... I work there, actually. Want to see my office?"

She smiles, and nods, 'Ok...As long as you don't mind me showing you the bridge of the Dreadnought afterwards. It's only fair...'

He fakes a pained expression.

"If you insist....", he says, and promptly breaks out into a broad grin. "Well, here we go. You know, teleporting to my office really would be convenient sometimes."

Once again, the landscape flickers, twisting and contorting into fantastic shapes for a brief, disturbing moment of decoherence. And without warning, the chaos resolves into the rather homely interior of Inviolus' office.

"Well, here we are." He waves an arm vaguely at the room, moderately sized and slightly messy. Reports and memos decorate the desk, on which sits a curious computer terminal, lacking the usual input and output devices. On the terminal itself, though, rests a mug of coffee.

She grins, 'Nice...' she looks at the mug, 'Although I'm kind of a tea person, myself.' she smiles as she looks at the teminal a little more, 'Mine's got a keyboard...Kinda traditional.' she grins, 'Like having a polished brass telegraph and oak ship's wheel.'

He walks around, acutely aware about the less than perfect condition of the office. Grinning, he lifts an unplugged keyboard from under his desk.

"It makes people feel more at ease when they come see me. Still, direct interfacing is faster.... but has the unfortunate effect of unnerving people." Grabbing a few books off his desk, he hastily rearranges them on the bookshelf.

She nods, 'Faster, certainly...But I do rather like typing.' she grins as she watches him tidy up, 'You know, you could have just shown me it tidy in the first place...'

He grins in return.

"Well, that wouldn't be the real office, would it now? It feels more lived in this way. And if you ever come by my office to visit, I'll make you some tea - the rest of the Council describes it as 'unforgettable', though I'm not sure if that's a good thing.", he says, chuckling slightly. "Funny thing is, I can't make it in any other teapot. It's just not the same."

'Sounds like a plan.' she smiles, 'You know, you're not like I expected...'

He smiles quizzically, prodding a kinetic sculpture/executive toy thing composed of small steel balls and bits of wire.

"Well, what did you expect?"

'Oh, I don't know, really...Though I thought you'd have called me an evil capitalist by now.' she smiles, 'Stereotypes, huh?'

He laughs a little.

"We've even fought on the same side as 'capitalist governments' on a few occassions, and there's people, and then there's governmental policy. Even when it comes to people, there's ideology, and then there's personality. I might disagree with some of your government's policies and so on, but I do like you personally. And that's what counts right now."

She nods, 'I'm glad. It's nice spending time with you.' she smiles, 'So, want to see the bridge now? It's not quite as spectacular...'

"As it is spending time with you", he says, smiling. Looking around him, he continues. "I think it's safe to say anything could be more spectacular than my office."

She nods, and leads him up to the bridge.

It's a surprisingly pleasant room, open and well-lit, with a few duty staff sitting at their stations. June says 'At ease' before she even enters, and smiles at the crew members, 'You're all still on shift?'

A young man turns around, 'Shift change is in an hour, cap'n.'

There's a number of stations around the outside of the romm; communiations, auxiliary fire control and so one, and June smiles as she points to the helm; an old oak ship's wheel the wouldn't have looked out of place on a galleon, along with a set of brass telegraphs from the age of steam, 'Navy's always been very traditionalist' she grins.

Inviolus' eyes, surveying the bridge, widen slightly at the sight of the two anachronisms.

"Traditionalistic indeed.... all militaries are, to an extent. Very fine craftsmanship. It doesn't actually steer the rudder - does it?"

She smiles, 'Not by any direct mechanical link, but yes, that steers the ship. Although the telegraphs are auxiliary to the real engine controls.'

He nods. "Ah, yes. Even the staunchest tradition changes with the times."

Giving the room another look, he continues speaking.

"Certainly tidier than my office."

She smiles, 'Well, this Dreadnought doesn't return me too much paperwork, so there's not much to get in a mess.' she grins, 'Although there is the chart room, I guess.' she thinks for a moment, 'Simple redundancies for complex systems, the sat-nav is backed up by charts and bearings, the comms by a morse lamp...Makes everything five times harder when you're using them, but it's better to be safe than sorry.'

He nods soberly. "True..... pragmatism may be troublesome but one day it'll pay off - the day everyone hopes won't come, of course."

Thinking back to home, he goes on. "It's like the stairs in the Speaker's Tower - not that anyone wants to use them, the building's over a kilometer high."

She smiles, 'But there's always that one person who doesn' like using the lift, and that's who they're there for.'

He chuckles.

"Well, whoever that person is, he or she's probably the healthiest person on the planet. Or they work on the second floor."

She nods, 'They say Maiden's Tower has stairs, too...That's a mile high.' she grins, 'Traditionalism does extend to the measuring system, although I understand metric...'S probably worth telling your harbourmasters that I'd be calling speed in knots and distance in nautical miles.'

A curious look. "Maiden's Tower?"

Smiling, he shakes his head. "Nah, I don't think that's needed. Sure, regulations call for metric measurements, but they all know the old terms. Seaman's culture, apparently. For instance, every sunset the harbormaster flips a coin. I asked him about it once - he just looked at me as if I was a raving lunatic."

She tilts her head, 'You haven't seen it yet? It's the main adminstrative building in Marshall City...Dead centre of the city. Did you just not know the name?'

She grins, 'Seamen always are a little traditionalist,' she turns to the duty crew, 'Aren't you?'

They grin, and nod.

The penny drops.

"Oh, yes... I was wondering what it was called. There a story behind the name?"

She smiles, 'Probably, but nobody's sure what it is...There's about two dozen that I've heard. I think the Supreme Commander just thought it sounded good, myself.'

Inviolus grins. "Ah, greatest way to be remembered - leave behind a mystery. Care to share one of the stories?"

'Oh, they'll all urban myths, really...The most realistic I'm aware of is he named it after a old love of his, though there's no proof of that, obviously.' she smiles, 'He does like to be mysterious.'

"Hmm, romantic. Still, it's a good name.... and the sense of mystery just adds to it."

He looks around.

"So what do you actually do in here most of the time?"

She smiles, 'I don't have any major duties in harbour, so I'm free to do what I like...I've actually got a house overlooking the waterfront. To be honest, my avatar doesn't spend an awful lot of time on board, when we're like this.'

He shrugs. "It doesn't exactly need to, does it? Sounds quite pleasant, really."

She nods, 'I'm regarded as a full citizen; the only real difference between me and any other member of my crew is the terms under which I'd be called up for service, which is if this ship is required for combat duty.' she smiles, 'Other than that, I'm free to take a job, marry, have children...Anything, really.'

Sober again, he looks thoughtful.

"Yes. The only humane course of an AI. I've heard tell of others imprisoned and in bondage - or worse. Created to serve the whims of their masters.... I suppose we're lucky we weren't created by organizations like those."

She nods, 'And Field-Marshal Embersby treats Shiala like her own daughter...I guess we are pretty lucky.'

"Yes, we are. But enough of that dreary ruminating", he says, smiling again. "I don't believe I've asked.... what's life like here on Marshall Island?"

She smiles, 'It's really nice, actually, as long as you don't mind the cold. Everyone's pretty friendly, and you won't find yourself being arrested unless you've actually done something wrong.'

[ooc: Strangely enough I was a libertarian police state once. Just for a day or two, but it was annoying.]

He chuckles. "Well, I hope I don't get arrested. Would probably make for some lurid headlines."

She smiles, 'Well, the office of External Affairs would probably yank the headline under national security...They're allowed to do that.' she grins, 'Keeps us clear of the nastier kinds of tabloid journalism.'

He shrugs, morbidly interested in following this train of thought.

"Well, perhaps the tabloids might not plaster my face on the front page, but there'll be rumors." He grins. "What sort of sensational crimes do you think're most likely?"

She grins, 'Oh, you look like a bank robber to me.'

He laughs. "Really? Well, there's something to think about, if the whole diplomacy and politics thing doesn't work out."

He strikes something of a pose, and winks.

She nods, 'An anticapitalist bank robber...You'd be like old Captain Gerhart* himself...' she laughs.

[Feel free to ask if you don't know; he's a pirate version of Robin Hood, kind of.]

He cocks an eyebrow, smiling slightly - a quizzical look.

"Captain Gerhart?"

She grins, 'If you've got enhanced vision, take a look along the dock...Can you see that statue of a man dressed in pirate costume?'

He squints slightly. His vision, while rather better than humans, is still somewhat limited by his choice to keep the avatars as human as possible.

"Yes. Yes, I can. That's Captain Gerhart? What did he do?"

'Well, he was the first person to land on this island who ever actually gave a damn about the people who were left here...He told the locals that he'd have his fleet protect us if we'd shelter his ships and build a fort to protect this harbour.' She points out to sea as a flare rises from the ship's flank, 'That's Gerhart Fortress,' she says, pointing to an ancient fort on an island out in the bay, the flare illuminating the muzzles of dozens of rusting cannons. 'And this city's first stones were laid down by Gerhart's crew. He's something of a local hero.'

He nods, fascinated.

"And quite the legendary figure as well. He sounds like someone to look up to, someone I'd like to meet. - the closest figure to that in Anhierarch's history would be a man named Kandor."

She smiles, 'Care to tell me a little about him?'

"With pleasure.", he says, smiling.

"Well basically, Kandor was this guy who lived about 2000 years ago - about that time, Anhierarch as a collection of cities was still just a few generations old, and under the rule of monarchy.

We suspect Kandor was a disaffected knight or noble, disillusioned with the system of governance - cruel and corrupt, to put it mildly. Whatever the reason, Kandor formed an order, the Order of the Black Robe. The Order was sworn to uphold certain tenets, among them several features of democratic process. It was also sworn to fight the monarchy.

Almost two thousand years ago, Kandor and a few loyal soldiers assassinated the King of the time, generally unpleasant fellow. After that, a Republic was formed, and Kandor adamantly refused all government positions the offered him. He stayed with his Order, which essentially watched over the government and the people. Spent his life hunting down monarchists and defending the Republic.

But the really important bit is that Kandor's regicide led to the First Golden Age, which lasted centuries. He was known for prophecies and so on - as well as snippets of obscure wisdoms collected in the Black Codex."

She smiles, 'Wow...Sounds like quite a guy. Kind of like an old-fashioned secret serviceman...'

He smiles, chuckling slightly. "I suppose you could say that. There're two statues of him in the whole world, both in the same place. One shows him in his prime, the other shows a wrinkled, wizened yet noble man - just months before his death."

'Is his Order still around?' she grins, 'I can imagine they'd be something like SFAT these days, if they were...'

He nods. "Oh yes, very much so - these days they usually handle our security arrangements. They're not under our control, though - they just like what we're doing and want to make sure we stay safe. It's an interesting arrangement, to say the least. There tends to be at least 2 attached to every Councillor at all times."

His brow wrinkles. "SFAT?"

'Stands for Special Forces Anti Tank...That was what they were set up for, but these days they're more of an all-purpose special force.' she grins, 'Their leader's something of a character, too...'

[And that's it for today, I'm afraid.]

[ooc: Me too. Tired.]

He thinks on it for a moment.

"Actually, I rather suspect that the Scythian order would be closer to SFAT..... they're special forces, of a sort." Smiling, he says, "Well, I'd like to hear the story of this character."

'It'd probably be better to meet him, and not too difficult...SFAT's based here, after all. Would you be interested?'

Inviolus nods, interested.

"By all means, certainly."

[ooc: Gotta go.]

Der Bump.

'Ok...I'm sure I can arrange it. Oh, something that might interest you,' she smiles, and poits out at a ship docked nearby, 'Kinda like a wooden ship's wheel, in a way.'

It's like looking back in time; the ship is an authentic world war two-era battleship by design, even mounting a seaplane on a catapult slung over her stern turret. There's some modern equipment visible on her, but for the most part the ship is old, but aged like oak rather than worn out.

'Her name's Tanager. She's the flagship of the Fourth Carrier Group.' she smiles, and points across, to a much larger and obviously more modern vessel, 'Herne. One of the other ships in the Fourth CG.' she smiles, 'Want to know why they made Tanager the flagship?'

Inviolus nods, his eyes momentarily confused by the historical anachronism, almost an artefact, floating alongside the other, far more advanced ships. "Yes, very much so.... is that a seaplane catapult?"

She nods, 'That it is...She's over a hundred years old, in fact; when she was built she had a valve-operated gunnery computer. Of course, there's not much of that ship left in her anymore, but she's still got her bell, 'Old Tom.'' She smiles, 'And they still think enough of her that she carries the admiral's flag for a modern battlegroup.'

Inviolus' eyes widen. "My word..... historical, practically. Still, why is she retained as the flagship?"

She smiles, 'A flagship isn't just a warship, it's a symbol of the whole fleet, and she was the first capital ship we ever built...I guess there aren't really words for what that means to people here.'

The light dawns in Inviolus' eyes.

"I see.... tremendously symbolically important... a kind of a relic, basically?"

She nods, 'She's still perfectly seaworthy, and she's been refitted a couple of times, but she's the flagship because of what she means rather then what she can do.' she smiles, 'That might seem a little strange, I guess.'

He shakes his head. "Oh, no. It makes sense, in a way.... maybe not cold, passionless logic, but sense nonetheless."

She smiles brightly, 'Really? A lot of people don't understand.'

[Shall we skip to meeting the head of SFAT soon?]

He smiles. "Well, I've had the advantage of having it explained to me by one so knowledgeable."

[ooc: Sure]

She smiles, 'Thank you.'

[a while later]

June leads Inviolus to one of the waterfront bars, 'He should be here, apparently.'

Inside, it's rather pleasant, a place with a certain atmosphere about it. Most of the furniture is old wood, and there's an air of age to the place. Inviolus may notice the timbers seem a little curved.

June smiles as she sees a young man smoking a cigareet, 'Good evening, Kurt.'

He nods, 'Captain.' Inviolus will note he speaks with a very obvious German accent.

He's an interesting figure, wearing a camoflage coat over dress uniform, athletically built and quite handsome. A long scar runs down the left sideof his face, crossing his eye, which is closed, the other is blue, and he has short, slightly messy dark hair. He grins, 'Chancellor, Inviolus, I'm Major Kurt Wagner, Commanding Officer of Special Forces Anti Tank.'

Curved beams and planks.... from a ship's structure, perhaps? nice ambience, though.

Inviolus smiles, extending his hand to the Major. "Honored to meet you. As you seem to know I'm Councillor Inviolus, First Ambassador. June tells me you're quite the character."

He grins, and shakes it, 'Oh, does she? Well, I do make a point never to argue with a lady...Sit down, please.' he points to a chair, then smiles as he spots where Inviolus is looking.

There's a railgun propped up next to him, after all.

'Interesting, hmm?'

He grins, and shakes it, 'Oh, does she? Well, I do make a point never to argue with a lady...Sit down, please.' he points to a chair, then smiles as he spots where Inviolus is looking.

There's a railgun propped up next to him, after all.

'Interesting, hmm?'

Inviolus eases himself onto a seat, taking note as well of the menacing looking railgun.

"Yes.... I don't suppose I'd be correct in guessing that these timbers were once used in traversing the seas and oceans?", he says, gesturing slightly at the ceiling.

He grins, 'Very astute. I suppose you've been told about Captain Gerhart....Wonder where his galleons went when his men finally settled down here?' he points at the beams, 'They're right here, all along the waterfront.'

He smiles, pleased at his accurate inference. "He sounds a most fascinating man. Noble, too. Not to mention pragmatic.", he says, indicating the beams of the bar.

Kurt nods, 'A couple of his muskets are in a museum round here, actually...Lots of stuff survived from his day.' he grins, 'It's worth seeing, if you ever have the time.'

He nods. "I'll be here a good time.... I think I'll be able to make some time. Even if I can't, I'll just arrange for another Avatar to be activated and shipped here." He grins. "Then you'll all be seeing double."

He grins, 'Could be an interesting experience.'

He leans over, picking up his railgun and placing it in the centre of the table, 'Ever seen anything like that before, by the way?' It's kind of hard not to notice it has 'Treasure of the Reaper' elegantly engraved on the upper section of it's armature.

[Check your inbox to see what it looks like...]

He grins. "I should hold a convention. Activate all of them and gather in a room. That'd be interesting."

[ooc: Over a hundred of 'em now. Remember the 100 Smiths scene from the Matrix Reloaded? Something like that.... but not as much kung fu :D ]

He peers closely as his enhanced vision allowed, making comprehensive notes on the craftsmanship and manufacture... absorbing rather more than any human would be able to.

"A fine weapon. I've seen a few experimental models back home that don't quite work right, and dossiers on some other similar weapons.... but I'd have to say this is truly excellent workmanship."

He nods, pulling out the magazine and resting it on the table beside the gun, 'Well, electromagnetic weapons are something of a specialty of GMC...From a little thing like this right up to SABRE.' he grins, 'There's a lot been invested in the technology.'

As we do in cybernetics, quantum computation and bio-engineering...

"Fascinating. I'm curious, how does it handle?"

'Pretty well, in fact. It's well balanced, a little long as you can see, but they've managed to get it to the point where it doesn't take a two-man team to operate it, which was the main problem with the old Gauss guns. Standard muzzle energy is about ten megajoules, about half as hard as a one-fifty smoothbore.' he points to the handgrips, 'Triggers on the rear grip, four-finger, the foregrip has the gun controls...Three buttons and a slider for the forefinger, all analogue, used to adjust velocity, windage, things like that.'

He nods attentively. "Recoil must be quite severe, I suppose.", he says, recalling the video transcripts of experimental tests. No one dead or maimed, fortunately.

"If you don't mind me asking, what sort of power source does it use?"

He smiles, 'That, I can't say. Sorry, but we have to have a few secrets...'

June nods, 'It's pretty advanced, though...The old Gauss guns needed a heavy powerpack, that's what the second man in the team did, that and carry ammunition.'

He nods, smiling, having expected such a response.

"Yes, we all have secrets. But I suppose you could tell me what sort of damage a weapon like this could cause? I'm curious."

'Well, the round we use is a GPR,' he removes a projectile from the magazine, 'Fifteen by one fifty millimetre teflon-coated tungsten carbide dart, sheathed in lead. Against a soft target, a striking hit is almost always fatal, since the exit wound is a foot wide...On armour a good hit'll take out a Bradley, or heavier if you're a good shot.' he frowns, 'Of course, you hope you'll never have to fire it in anger.'

An eyebrow is raised. "That sounds like an anti-material rifle on steroids, out of a weapon designer's nightmare. Not something you'd wanted pointed at you."

He nods, 'That's what it was designed as...They're limited issue to SFAT personnel only, because they're expensive to manufacture...There's only about five hundred total.' he grins, 'Of course, we're also known for our expertise in a somewhat older tradition...' He reaches down to his belt, and draws his sword, laying it on the table. It looks much like a Japanese Katana, but the blade is black. If Inviolus tilts his head, he'll note the inscription 'Nelo Angelo' on it. 'They've been making these for hundreds of years...They say King George had one. King Lewis' shield in the history museum would certainly suggest it.'

"Yes, I can imagine that they'd be expensive. I'd estimate that you could outfit a company with the cost of it."

He examines the blade, noting with considerable admiration the fine workmanship of the weapon. "Beautiful smith-work.... quite the dangerous weapon. I suppose the shield of King Lewis isn't a viable shield any more? Speaking of melee weaponry, have you heard of Fie Arak? Bit of a martial tradition in Anhierarch - references in literature and contemporary accounts of the Republic suggest that it's been around in some form for more than a thousand years.... close to two, possibly."

Looking at the blade again, he percieves something. "Nelo Angelo?"

He grins, 'I imagine the shield wouldn't be much use to anyone, the way it is now...It was at the end of the "Kings' War," back when this country was divided into city-states...There were two major factions, one under George the Great, the other under King Lewis. The war ended with King George killing Lewis in a duel...Lewis' shield was cut clean in half by one of these swords.'

He thinks for a moment, 'Can't say I've ever heard of Fie Arak...' he grins, 'And you'll find all these swords have names...It's just an old tradition with the smiths that make them.'

"Interesting. I'll have to drop by the history museum sometime... hopefully before the next century.", he says, a sardonic grin on his face.

Shrugging, he goes on. "I'm not surprised. Few people outside Anhierarch have, except martial historians and people interested in esoteric trivia. Myself, I try to spar fairly often. Getting better, I hope."

<You want to go on to the visit to Anhierarch?>

[Sure, anything goes.]

['K...]

June smiles as she turns on her radio, 'This is Dreadnought Nihilanth to Anhierarch harbourmaster, requesting permission to dock, over.'

Who'd have thought we'd ever have ended up here. she smiles, looking out across her battlegroup, the submarine-battleships Isengard and Minas Tirith flanking her, with a squadron of HK subs surrounding them.

The Speaker's Tower

"Oi! Inviolus!"

Inviolus looks up from the computer terminal, detaching the interface nodes from his head.

It's Harbinger. What does he want now?

"Yes, Harbinger?"

"Picked up a transmission. That June you were talking about, she's about t'dock."

Inviolus' eyes widen slightly, somewhat surprised. "Damn. I must have gotten the date wrong.... well, no time to lose."

He gets up from the desk, throwing on a coat and hastily exiting the office, brushing past Harbinger with a cheery farewell.

"Always rushin' about, that man."

Port Thrends, Andulos City

The harbormaster sets down a mug of steaming coffee, gracing a small sheaf of reports with another coffee ring. Smoothly, he prods a button and speaks.

"Aye, this is Harbormaster Herzj. Permission granted - welcome to Anhierarch, Over."

That said, he looks down from the stubby tower, seeing a small gathering at the dock - security personnel, as well as the welcome party.

June smiles, Rather inglorious to arrive in a cargo dock, but I guess it can't be helped...Doubt they figured on ships quite this size when they built the military docks. she calls out over the radio, 'Isengard and Minas Tirith, docks three and seven, we're docking in number four. The rest of you, we're just running though a request for a suitable sub pen.'

She changes frequency, 'Harbourmaster, this is Nihilanth, thank you. Do you have a submarine pen or dock available for our escort, over?'

She smiles, Reduce speed...Slow ahead... she notes the small party on the docks, Wonder what sort of welcome we'll get...

The harbormaster flicks the button again, narrowly avoiding spilling his mug of coffee.

"Yes, unfortunately they're over at Dom Pejes Naval Base - a few miles down the bay, I'll relay coordinates and tell them your escort will be docking there if you like. Do you require tugboats to dock?"

Meanwhile, Inviolus sits on a plush seat on one of the many express train services, watching the dark grey concrete of the tunnel fly past through the windows.

Any minute now. Wouldn't do to be late.

June nods, 'Shouldn't have much of a problem docking, thank you, harbourmaster.'

The submarine packs break away and head down the coast as the three capital ships pull slowly into harbour, sounding their klaxons. June looks along the banners the crowd are waving, and smiles, Well, can't see any 'Go Homes' yet...

'Ok, slow speed reverse, same on forward.'

The Dreadnought slowly glides into harbour, eventually stopping in the dock. June smiles, 'Ambassador, are you ready? We're docked.'

'Yes, thank you.' Georgina nods.

'Ok, there's an official party waiting for us, down on the pier...Should be able to sort out shore leave for the rest of the crew with them. Shall we?'

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

June steps out onto the dock, blinking a little in the sunlight. Wow...You can see the trees, even from here. She steps over to whoever looks to be leading the Anhierarch group, and salutes, 'My name's June, Admiral in command of the Dreadnought Nihilanth, sir.'