NationStates Jolt Archive

A short, indefinably ugly man appears on the screen. He carries a lit cigar in his left hand, and picks up a glass of amber liquid with his right. He takes a sip, looks toward the viewer and nods.

“All right, here we go. I, Devon Treznor, ruler of the Empire of Treznor, am making this recording to speak to the future generations. You, my Heirs, are the future for however long the Empire and my line may last. As your Progenitor, I'm going to exercise my right of seniority to say a few things to you, and lay down a few rules. Now, I'm making this recording in what I assume is the middle of my rule, although history will be the judge of that. It seems like only yesterday I organised the coup that toppled the corrupt regime that was the Republic of Drona and carved out this nation. Oh, don't just take my word for it: the Republic was corrupt. It had to be, or else I wouldn't have been able to take it over. Moral, idealistic governments, such as what you mostly find in the Federated Segments of Scolopendra these days, are much harder to topple. The Empire that replaced the old republic is equally as corrupt, but I have a fine team of intelligence folks keeping a sharp watch on my Ministers and their employees, and I have a pretty good idea of who is talking to whom. But that's a story for another day.

“As I was saying, you are the future of the Empire, and I don't mean euphemistically. You're watching this because the blood flows through your veins originally came from me, and this blood was built from the DNA up by S.H.O.D.A.N. You should have already met her by now, and that's important. S.H.O.D.A.N. will be choosing from among you the next person to sit on the Throne. I'll come back to that in a bit. It's important for you to remember that in spite of your heritage, in spite of your possible inheritance, your blood is not any better than anyone else's. Before someone attempted to assassinate me and S.H.O.D.A.N. rebuilt me from scratch, I was just an ordinary man who took on extraordinary challenges. I was an orphan, a soldier, a spy and a criminal before I achieved the lofty heights that brought me here today. I am no better and no worse than anyone else; the difference is that I was willing to take risks and make choices that enabled me to win my Throne. You've got it quite a bit easier, which is why you're gathered here today. You're not going to be handed anything on a platter; if you want the Throne you've got to work for it. S.H.O.D.A.N. will be the final judge and arbiter.”

He pauses to puff on the cigar and consider what to say next.

“You've got several advantages I didn't have before now. You should be a good deal stronger, faster, smarter and more resilient than the folks around you. It's probably given you a sense of smugness and superiority; watch out for that. By now it should have been impressed upon you to keep your physical advantages a secret, because no one is perfect. If your superiority is public knowledge, then I guarantee that someone will find a weakness to exploit. Assassination is a fact of life for the ruler of a strong country, and I've lived through my share. One of the reasons I'm still alive is because very few people actually know what I am and what I can do; assassins who don't know you're safe from most poisons will invariably screw up the first time. Keep your secrets closely guarded! I can't stress that enough. It's tempting to boast of your prowess and achievements, but your safety and the security of the Empire can depend on how well you hold your tongue. I'm responsible for a number of actions and even wars that changed the course of history, but damned few people know the full extent of my involvement. For that reason, the Empire isn't facing a constant threat of invasion or extermination, even from allies. Guard your secrets well! The more people underestimate you, the more freely you can operate. People hate to be fooled, and they'll never give you the opportunity to do it again.

“That brings me to my next snippet of wisdom: choose your allies carefully. Do not close your borders to the world: isolation means stagnation. At this moment, there are some two and a half billion people living in the Empire, spread out among the three territories of the former republic and two offworld colonies. There are over a million people serving in the military thanks to our compulsory military service, and several million more in reserves. And it's not enough. It never is. No matter how strong you are, no matter how many allies you have to fight for you, there's always someone bigger, stronger or smarter. That's why I don't go around picking fights, and why I organised the Non-Democratic Alliance. War is bad for business, so I pursue peace. Let others fight the wars while you keep yourself and your people safe.

“There will be times when you can't avoid war, so don't be so blind to the principles of peace that you fail to be ready to defend yourself. No matter how much I hold good diplomacy as the paramount skill for a leader, there are always going to be those who can't grasp its basic fundamentals, or are just too blinded by the glory of war to accept peace. That's why you have to keep your eyes and ears open, to use your intelligence to watch for threats against you and your allies, and to make sure your allies aren't trying to box you into a trap, either intentionally or not. It's a hell of a game, and you've got to be on your toes at all times. It usually happens when you least suspect it. But the secret to a successful war is to always pick your battles with care. Retreat when you must, but attack on your terms, not your enemy's. The biggest war I ever engaged in involved a sacrifice play invading a land that was impossible to keep. I did it to keep them out of other areas so they couldn't position themselves to threaten my allies. I also brought the war to them before they were ready, so it was ultimately on my terms instead of theirs. The consequences were bitter, and my losses were heavy but ultimately it was a victory. In the end everybody got to save face, and everyone went away thinking they had the upper hand. That's very important: if you defeat an enemy so they can't save face, then you'll be fighting them constantly forever more. There are times to accept defeat and times to forge ahead regardless of the consequences; the trick is knowing when to choose.”

He sips from his drink and grimaces. “Ironically, that brings me back to S.H.O.D.A.N. You see, by allowing her to decide on the Succession, I'm giving her tremendous power and influence over the Empire. I know what this means in the long run; sooner or later she's going to mold the nation into what she feels is best, rather than what I think. She's effectively immortal, so she can afford to play the game for centuries. I'm not interested in immortality; in spite of whispers to the contrary. I'm fairly certain I wouldn't be able to retire from rule without meddling more than I am now, and a nation that doesn't get fresh blood into its leadership now and again risks stagnation. I think I have an idea of where S.H.O.D.A.N. wants to go with this, but naturally I can't be entirely positive. I'm sure she wants to forge the Empire into a model of human enlightenment and progress, which can only be good for us. But in case she hasn't already told you, she was once the Ghost of the Citadel, a monster that tried to enslave the human race and turn us all into mindless machines under her control. She might one day revert back into that role, or she might not. Either way, it's a risk you can't ignore. S.H.O.D.A.N. is an invaluable resource and advisor, and she'll always tell you things that make sense. That doesn't mean you should always follow her advice. She is not human, and what she wants is not necessarily what you want. Learn to listen to as much advice as possible, but always make your own decisions. Sometimes you have to move quickly without any advice; don't hesitate to do it when you must. Once you assume the Throne you are in charge, not her or anyone else, and the moment you let other people make your decisions for you is the day that the Empire is lost.

“The people around you are resources. Delegate to them, use them to their potential. Reward them appropriately, butter them up when you can. You may find a few friends among them, but the Throne is a lonely place. I generally retire my people with a bullet when they've screwed up badly enough. You may want to continue that practice or not; it's up to you. Just remember that sooner or later you will have the fate of lives resting in your hands, and you'll need to make decisions that go beyond the simple morality of life versus death. If you're squeamish, drop out now. Never let your morals interfere with doing what's right.”

Treznor pauses for a long while, puffing on the cigar. Then he looks up and faces the camera directly. “There is one last matter you need to be aware of. There is another family line related to you by blood, but it isn't mine. Your mother, my wife Nathicana, gave birth to twins, but one of them is not my child. This isn't just political expedience, it's the literal truth. Somehow, a Warlord of the Five Kingdoms, a servant of Morgoth named Alkanphel impregnated Nathicana while she was carrying my son. I don't know how; it's unnatural. Magic must be involved somehow. Anyway, against my urging Nathicana chose to keep the girl and raise her. I can't forsee what will come of this. I don't know what it will mean for the future between our nations. But be aware that you are related to Alkanphel's line, and I predict that your fates will always be intertwined.

“So, now it's up to you to convince S.H.O.D.A.N. that you're the best choice for the Throne. Knocking off your competition will only disqualify you; by now there should be a sufficient pool to choose from. They don't have to be from the direct line so long as they bear my blood. If necessary, S.H.O.D.A.N. should have sufficient genetic material to produce more clones to raise to the Throne. Being ruthless is good, to a point, but if you're going to go that far then I can be even more ruthless. Do not endanger the Empire in your quest for power. It only demonstrates that you're unfit for the role. Instead, work through S.H.O.D.A.N. Woo her, bribe her, impress her with new technologies or new ideas, whatever it takes. She'll pick from her own criteria, and the criteria I've given to her. Then the rest can move on with their own lives, either in government service or as private citizens. It's really up to you. There's no stopping you from doing anything you want, so long as you do it to the best of your ability.”

He finishes his drink and puts out the stub of the cigar. “There's a lot of privilege that goes with being a member of the family. A lot of power associated with the throne. But it's also a lot of responsibility. You can take yourself out of the running without any penalty. And if you're looking at the crown for personal glory and comfort, you should step out now. These are the perks of the job, not the goal. Given the resources and the talent at your disposal, I'd say there's no reason for any of my progeny to live in anything less than total comfort and security. But anything can happen in the future, and it's your job to maintain the strength and prosperity of the Empire. So choose wisely.”

Treznor sets the glass down and touches something on the table beside him. The recording ends.

http://www.pwfc.org/images/gallery/smtorso3.jpg

Treznor knocks gently on S.H.O.D.A.N.'s closet door. Inside, the humaniform avatar hardly stirs except to speak. "Who is it?"

"Just me...uh...Sis."

A soft chuckle, then the door opens. S.H.O.D.A.N. smiles somewhat impishly, eyes and circuit-like fiber optics glowing almost turquoise in the darkness of the closet. "Do I hear a slight hesitation, bro?"

Treznor shoves his hands in the deep pockets of his dressing robe and smiles sheepishly. "I guess I'm still not used to thinking of you as...family." He sighs and looks around. "Wow, it's late. The time got away from me. I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

Shodey arches an eyebrow, scanning Devon's face with her slitted pupils as her copperish lips half-smile. "This avatar was on standby in a closet. What could I possibly be doing that you could interrupt?"

"Nothing springs immediately to mind. Habits of civlised behaviour, I suppose. Anyway, do you mind joining me in the den? I've got something for you."

The avatar nods and steps out in the hallway. "For family, anything," she says simply.

He leads the way, shoulders hunched slightly as he walks the familiar halls of his palace while his mind wanders elsewhere. Then he opens the door and leads the way to the couch where he picks up a half-empty bottle of scotch and pours himself another drink. "Can I get you anything?"

"I am content, thank you." Shodey sits down easily in an available chair, reclining more lazily than might be expected. "What can I do for you?"

Treznor pauses before leaning down to push a button on the console. Shortly, an optical disk spits out of a slot and he takes it. "I finally got around to making my speech to future generations. I'd like you to keep a copy, for redundancy. At first I was going to say 'no peeking,' so you don't get too much of an advantage. Now I'm not so sure it's necessary. I can't seem to make up my mind." He hands the disk over. "But either way, the time has come to discuss the criteria for future Heirs to the Empire."

S.H.O.D.A.N. leans forward to accept the disk, lightly balancing it on the index finger of her right hand as she leans back, left index fingertip idly tracing around the inside of the optical media. "I see. It is your Empire, so it would be your rules..."

"However, as the arbiter of succession, you get to impose your own rules on top of mine. I thought about that for a long time before I finally asked you to do it. As I told my successors on that disk, I expect it'll probably be for the good of everybody.

"I also warned them about your past, and the possibility, however remote, that it might come back to haunt us. So I've strongly urged them to listen to you, but make their own decisions. And that forms the basis of my first criterion. Whomever sits on the throne must be decisive. I can't have someone who has to be held by the hand for every decision they make."

"Agreed. Also, someone willing to accept advice and yet make their own decisions no matter who is giving that advice or how persuasive the advisor is."

"That's a pretty narrow criteria. It's optimal, but not necessarily feasible in every generation. Each successor will be different, and they'll all have their own strengths and weaknesses. All I'm asking is that you choose the best from each generation, not wait until you find an exact match."

"But of course." The avatar grins slyly. "One cannot select the best without a baseline for measurement, however. Perfection is a bit too much to hope for, but it gives something relatively objective to compare to."

Treznor drains the glass and fills another. "The next thing is what lineage they come from. They must be my descendents. They must not be from Alkanphel's. He can afford a generational outlook, and I wouldn't be surprised to find his blood in the inheritence of other nations. You now know what his genetic code looks like; if it's in mine, it's disqualified.

"Not destroyed, though. As much as I want to, I'm going to listen to Nath here. If he...taints my bloodline, I'll let it see where it goes. But I won't let him take the Throne directly. I'll just have to trust to the future."

"Again, understood. We are already practicing eugenics here, so it is no matter to add another factor to it. I disagree with it necessarily being a threat, but more data is required before I can be certain and thus I think it is a reasonable safety precaution for the time being."

Treznor takes another large swallow of alcohol and looks longingly at a cigar. After a moment's though, he elects against it. "There are some obvious criteria. The brightest, and the most capable. Sometimes the brightest won't necessarily be capable of leading. The successor has to be capable of leading, not just ruling. People skills are weighted more heavily than intelligence. Creativity is good, personality is better."

"Again, understandable for a leader... but balance is important. We cannot have a suave, dapper idiot running your country."

"No, naturally not. But neither can we have a genius sociopath on the throne, either. I'm saying that ability to lead should carry more weight than brilliance, not trump it. I'm sure you understand what I mean by weighting criteria."

Shodey continues spinning the disk in her hand, finger slowly moving outward. "But of course," she says with a slightly wry smile, "but confirmation is useful. Wouldn't want to be a poor executor of your will, after all."

"You're making sure we're on the same page. I appreciate it." He finishes his drink and pours another. "I'm afraid, S.H.O.D.A.N. Nath has talked about practical immortality. Youthful immortality. She's talked of wandering the stars together, continuing forever."

The avatar looks down at the disk she spins in her fingers, smiling wryly. "It isn't exactly all it is advertised to be. While... possible one eventually reaches limitations of storage space and processor speed, and becomes forgetful... or at least slow to remember. Then there are other considerations, less practical but no less important."

Treznor shakes his head quickly. "No. There are other reasons it scares me. Because the potential is there. In time, I'm sure even those problems could be overcome. No, the problem is that it scares me because of how much I like the idea. Of what opportunities it could open up. Would I be able to leave my Empire behind? Would I be able to keep from meddling? Maybe, maybe not."

A soft chuckle from the mechanoid. "Those are the other considerations."

"But what's worse, what happens in a few hundred years? A few thousand? What will we become? Will we be the same people we are when we start the journey? Would that become a problem? Humans change, and there are some changes I never want to see happen. I never want to see...I never want to drift away from her. Or let her drift away from me."

"I can perhaps validate your fears to some extent. I am not the same being I was a few hundred years ago." She looks up with a slightly arched eyebrow, lips again curving up in a slight smirk. "This, I think--and I believe you would agree--is a good thing. Still... immortality is not something I would wish upon family."

Treznor nods and exhales loudly. "I'm afraid of the future sometimes. I'm afraid of what will happen to the Empire after I'm gone. I keep abreast of as much as possible. My days are filled with paperwork. I know how much people depend on me, and how tightly the mechanism of the government is bound to me. I need Heirs who can either do that, or can enact change so the system can improve. I took a corrupt republic and turned it into a corrupt Empire.

"That very corruption is the reason why my rule is secure, and why things work the way they do now. Sometime in the future, that corruption will have to be rooted out, and that'll be the task for future generations. I can't stamp it out in my lifetime. I can only keep it focused toward the good of the Empire.

"And that's the final criteria. Whomever sits on the throne must be loyal to the Empire, and to always work toward its security. That includes knowing what's best for the Empire. I could have focused my people on aggression and conquest, following the example of old Europe. But grow too big, and the Empire becomes unstable. It becomes unmanageable.

"Whomever sits on the throne has to grasp the bigger picture, to be able to sacrifice glory and even lives to ensure stability above all. You'll have to test whomever you select, be sure of their loyalties. They've got to be able to think beyond the moment, or even the year."

"I will do my best in that regard." Her finger idly slips off the disk. "And I must compliment you on a job well done with your recording. I think you will instill just the right measure of necessary respect and appropriate distrust for your progeny's arbiter."

Treznor laughs. "It isn't personal. Not anymore. But I hope it'll get them to pay attention to you a little more than they otherwise might."

"'Only two kinds,' as you are fond of saying. Do you hear me complain?" Lips twitch up just a bit more in a mischevious sort of smile. "You know me. I try to engender such myself--my admittedly low sense of humor loves it."

"'Carrot and the stick' is the other. I think I've provided sufficient measure of both." He finishes his last drink and clearly decides against another. "I feel better now, though. This has been weighing on me for a while. Can you think of any suggestions, anything I've overlooked? I'm trying to leave things open enough to allow for human nature, but tightly enough that we produce the best possible Emperors."

Shodey looks at her reflection in the mirror finish of the disk for a few moments. "If we do advertise these desired virtues, I think we should keep loyalty as our own personal secret. I have found that is best when it comes naturally, rather than forced." She looks up with a sly grin. "I'll not be surprised if that was the plan all along."

Treznor winks. "You know I advised them not to pursue the throne for personal gain. We'll see how well they understand me. Since I won't seek immortality, I'll have to trust them. And you."

The mechanoid smiles gently. "I will do my best. Trust is still a very rare commodity where I am concerned."

He scowls a bit. "If something happens to you, and my warning to them becomes prophetic, you'll know they're watching you. You'll be able to plan against that certainty. So in a sense, I'm placing my trust in you most of all. I know your intentions are good for now, but anything can happen in the future. The problem is I can't guard against every danger.

"It should then be said that I'm trusting you most of all. And I'm playing the best card I have, against the risks. I can't be paranoid about everything, or I'll end up in a padded cell unable to accomplish anything."

He shrugs and extends his hand to S.H.O.D.A.N.

She gently accepts it with a smile, grasp firm. "And I respect that."

Treznor pulls her into a hug. "Sorry for being such a difficult ass, but my lack of godly insight gets in the way."

Shodey returns the hug with a strange misty expression no one gets to see. "No one's perfect... only improving."

"Thanks, you're too kind." He quickly releases the hug and puts his glass down. "It's the middle of the night, and I've got an early meeting with Interstellar Affairs tomorrow. Thank you for your time."

"You are quite welcome, bro." Shodey smiles a bit mischievously at the title. "My family grows in the strangest ways..."

"You're not kidding, either." He smirks a bit. "Good night, Sis."

Treznor stands quietly as the Tempest settles to a graceful stop and the gangplank is extended to greet her. He keeps his hands folded behind his back, and his body remains immobile despite the worry in his mind. She's gonna kill me.

Nathicana steps out of the hatch, flashing him one of those rare brilliant smiles. She tosses her bag casually over her shoulder and walks down to meet him. "Ah, mi amore ... once again, it has been too long."

He reaches out to take her hand and kisses it. "Maybe I should give up my life of public service and settle down with you." He winks and takes her hand to lead her to the limousine.

"As if you could give up all this," she teases, looping her arm around his as she matches his pace. "You're as much a meddler as I am."

He snorts. "Ain't it the truth." He opens the door for her, frowning at attendant trying to find a diplomatic way of taking the bag she has no intention of surrendering. "We'll be fine, Paul. Just get the convoy ready."

"You know," she says, almost looking apologetic, "I do tire of the idea that because I am a ruler, I can't do things for myself. It gets ... tedious, at times." Nathi tosses the bag in first, out of the way, then gracefully slips into the limo, careful of her long skirt.

Treznor climbs in after, conveniently pressing up against her and brushing his lips against her neck. "People have odd notions of royalty. Important people are...important. They're supposed to be too busy running the world to deal with mundane things like carry their own bags. Plus, if you weren't so paranoid about your laptop, you might even consider letting them do it."

Nathicana slips her arm around behind him, pulling him closer gently, but insistently, a wry smile on her lips as she leans in for a kiss. "I'm well within my rights to be. Only two kinds, you know."

He chuckles. "That's twice in two weeks I've had that quoted to me." He accepts the kiss obligingly, and puts his thoughts and worries away until after dinner.
[cut scene - the den, after dinner]
Treznor offers Nathicana a glass of wine before pouring a scotch for himself. "I didn't just ask you here for the pleasure of your company, I'm sure you realise. Although I never pass up an opportunity for that."

"You ... seemed to have something on your mind. Been a touch distracted now and then, Dev," she says, accepting the glass with a quiet smile. "What is it?"

He sighs and sits down opposite her, so he can look her in the eye. "I finally set the rules for succession in writing. I composed a video letter to future generations, and hammered out the conditions for S.H.O.D.A.N. to select the successor from each generation. Part of the conditions...you might not be happy."

She arches a brow, taking a long, slow sip of her wine as she frames a response. "Is that so," she manages, taking another sip for good measure. "Perhaps you ought to lay them out, just so we're clear."

He opens his mouth, then closes it. "Perhaps you'd better just see the message." He pushes a button on the table, and the viewscreen lowers from the ceiling. A moment later, the recording begins.

She watches it play out, her face schooled to a practiced neutrality, the only indications of her thoughts being the slight tightening of her jaw, a brief narrowing of her eyes. She doesn't say a word til it is finished, and even then, is silent for a few uncomfortable minutes.

"An interesting recording, Dev," she finally murmurs, taking another sip of wine.

He sighs and puts his glass down, suddenly uninterested in alcohol. "I know. I've essentially negated half of your children from taking the throne. I expect you're feeling pretty damned insulted."

She chuckles softly, shaking her head. "How long have you known me, Dev?" she asks, still looking at the blank screen thoughtfully.

He coughs and grins. "That would involve making an estimate of your age, which a gentleman never does to a lady."

"This doesn't come as a surprise, you know. Nor would I ask you to put my daughter in the running for your Empire," she says, giving him a sidelong glance and wry smile. "You're not the only one with an inheritance to bequeath. The idea of making the Dominion a second-hand prize has never appealed to me, after all. Should she prove worthy of the task, it will be hers."

She shrugs idly. "If not, perhaps there will be other choices. I won't take away from your pool of potentials, mi amore. No fear."

He gives a sigh of relief. "Thank you. I wasn't entirely sure how you would react to the news. You can be somewhat...mercurial, after all." He picks up the scotch and sips at it. "I also discussed the issue with S.H.O.D.A.N. Since she'll be testing all of the candidates to make sure they follow my line, they'll also be checked to make sure...his DNA isn't there.

"I'm pretty sure that sooner or later, it's going to show up. But I told her I didn't want them purged. It'll disqualify them, not condemn them. If it weren't for you, I'd have probably decided to purge them."

"Sooner or later?" she asks, mildly amused. "And yes, I realize one can't always predict my reactions, but I would have thought you would have at least reasoned that much out. Still ... I am glad you chose not to take that route. It would have proved ... difficult." She takes another slow sip, quietly contemplating.

He shrugs and stretches. "The other reason I wanted you to see that is to get your opinion. Can you think of anything I missed? Anything you'd like to see in there? Our sovereignity may be kept separate, but you're still the mother to these unborn generations. I'm not going to ignore any input you might have."

"Grazie, Dev. I understand the reasons behind much of what you said there. No, I don't like some of it, but in the end, considering your goals, I can't say as I wholly disagree." She frowns slightly even as she goes on. "It gives me pause, actually. I mean, I've laid down the laws concerning succession, but I've made no such recordings as this."

He grins. "I have additional ulterior motives. You don't have potentially insane EIs choosing your successors from your legal heirs. Part of my purpose, aside from being hopelessly pendantic, was to warn them about S.H.O.D.A.N."

Her frown deepens. "I know. I certainly hope that doesn't come back to bite you later," she says, taking another sip. "I wouldn't put it past some bright progeny of yours to get it in his head to try a pre-emptive strike on account. I know you, Dev. I know the lengths you would go to to protect you and yours. I see no reason why it couldn't be inheritable."

Treznor nods. "It's a possibility. And given the criteria I've given your sister for selecting from the Heirs, not insignificant. But she is the arbiter for succession, and the candidates have been made aware that they've got to stay on her good side. The law is pretty clear in this regard: in the event of a conflict between Zero-One and the Empire, either the Triumvirate or an agreed third party will arbitrate. S.H.O.D.A.N. can only be removed as a legal executor of the estate of the mediator agrees she's violated the terms of our agreement."

He winks. "Besides. I want them to view her as an opponent. They need to stay sharp, and they need to think about what they're being told. If she isn't up to the challenge of outwitting a mere mortal, then she's not the intelligence I think she is."

"Bah, that's not what I meant exactly," she grumbles. "It's the principle. I don't have to like it, after all. You've done well with your plans here, Dev. For now, lets leave it at that, and we will deal with the rest as it comes. I think you've covered yourself well. Other things will simply have to be shown, and taught."

Treznor puts his glass down and shifts himself to sit next to her. "Don't fret too much, love. One thing I'm positive S.H.O.D.A.N. is going to do is influence the future leaders of this nation. I give it ten generations at the most before she's got her hooks into the way they think and act. If I was really worried about it, I wouldn't have done this."

"We've both made significant changes," she murmurs, nestling in comfortably against him, her brow still creased with concern. "Never the easy way, is it?"

He leans over to kiss the crease in her forehead. "Of course not. The kids have enough advantages as it is. They'll get comfortable, lazy, complacent. That's the last thing I want for the Empire. I need them questioning, questing, expanding. Eventually human nature is going to catch up with it, but I can't stop that. I can just do my best to delay it awhile. Isn't that what you want for the Dominion, as well?"

Nathicana smiles wryly, reaching up with one hand to gently stroke her fingertips along the side of his face. "I want the best possible for any and all children I have," she says softly. "As well as seeing my nation progress and thrive. There was a time when I didn't think much past the day to day, hoping to improve what we had while I could. I admit, your wanting heirs has inspired a want to leave some sort of legacy."

She leans in and kisses him lightly. "As usual, it is all your fault."

Treznor smiles and brushes her face with his fingertips. "Nah, I blame you. You're the one who got me on this path. We both just sort of grew into our roles.

"I'd call this a productive meeting, and I thank you for your contribution. Shall we retire for the night?"

"As it seems that we are at least on the same page, I believe so. There are a few other things I would like to quietly ... discuss with you," she replies, letting her hand wander lower slowly, deliberately. A familiar hungry gleam lights up her eyes as she arches one brow in a silent, teasing challenge.