NationStates

After many months of diligent constructions, and years of development and research, the Dominion is proud to announce the opening of Machiavelli Station.

We hope that in accordance with the name, the ends will justify the means in the building of this new facility - that of establishing a waystation for not only the members of both our honorable alliances, Triumvirate and NDA, but any other nations in good standing who wish to make use of the station. Warehouse, laboratory, business, and living spaces are all available at reasonable 'per square foot' prices, each according to the needs and purposes of said space.

Things we will be working towards:

--Benign Research: Lab space, offices, unique antigrav environments, all in a central location to lodging and other living needs.

--Business Opportunities: Satelite/corporate offices, services, retail, you name it. With the capacity of this station, there will be many needs to be fulfilled. While Dominion businesses have been established, we by no means cover all bases, and believe that competition is a healthy aspect of business and trade.

--Trade Waypoint: Warehousing, transportation/shipping, transfer hub. Along with this, we have present a remote office for our own Trade Ministry to assist in smooth transitions and business arrangements.

--Residential Space: Several levels of options available, with all the amenities. Shopping, recreational facilities, job opportunities, and the rest, at your fingertips.

--Conferencing: Conference rooms, secure video/audio conferencing, hotel accommodations,catering, etc.

Machiavelli Station has been positioned at Saturn's L4 point, and will be watched over by Dominion forces using standard patrol parameters. Beacons will be set along the perimeter broadcasting polite notification and instructions outlining standard entry procedure. All ships entering can expect an escort of some sort for mutual safety. We wish to stress that this station is a non-military operation, and that while military vessels are welcome to dock, request assistance on repairs or medical issues, re-supply food and fuel needs, and their crews more than welcome to stay and partake of any leave time there, we will not allow it to be used as a staging point for any aggressions.

All users and residents of this station will be subject to the same Dominion law while on board as visitors would expect in visiting our nation, as we consider Machiavelli as an extension of our terrestrial holdings. There will be a Dominion government office through which any and all appeals will be handled. In keeping with our ideals and our past performance in dealing with disputes concerning international citizens, groups, or businesses, we will make every effort to work with the respective governments should any incident require it.

Commercial Lease Agreement

For those interested in leasing space aboard Machiavelli Station, please see the attached contract containing all the pertinent rules and obligations involved in acquiring said space. We hope that this will help clarify any questions. If you have any concerns, please do not hesitate to contact our offices.

In hopes that this new venture will be a benefit to all, we extend our welcome to Machiavelli Station.

--Dominon Ministries of Trade and Public Relations





ooc: Yep. New place to play. Interested folks can use as basis for rp's etc, what have you - just intend this to be a fun sort of thing, and go along with what I've had in mind for some time (ever since I sold our Mars holdings, actually ... guess where the money went). Would prefer not a lot of rawring bs here and all, just the same. I'm leaving a lot pretty open, really. Just one more opportunity for folks to meet, greet, and mingle.

As for costs: Truth, I don't have exact figures on costs and such, as I'm just not brilliant enough to know exactly what sorts of costs ought to be included for such a venture. Suffice it to say, we're going to be looking to cover our costs and make a profit, but not at the risk of squeezing our business partners til it hurts. The only bits that will cost more than they ought will be any extras, and any luxury accommodations, as it should be. Obviously, the more you buy, the more it will cost, and any large-scale holdings will be at a premium.

Machiavelli Station Rules and Guidelines

Identification/Registration:
All those wishing to use the station proper will be required to gain an ID card. These cards, whether temporary or of a more permanent nature for those using the station long term, can be acquired at any one of the individual security checkpoints on Machiavelli. Please have prepared all pertinent information (and any additional ID for proof of identity), such as nation of origin, company/corporation affiliation, purpose in visiting, contact information, pertinent medical conditions, and the usual identity questions. Faces, retinas, and fingerprints will be scanned, and the information encoded onto the cards, and stored within our databases. Simply place your hand on the pad, and look straight ahead - all quite quick and painless. The ID cards will contain all the personal/passport information etc, and be barcoded and marked appropriately depending on who and what they are, and where they are from.

Weapons:
Weapons will not be confiscated, and are allowed on the station. HOWEVER there are several rules that will apply.

All weapons are to be registered with Station Security on arrival. This is a simple matter of identing and adding the information to your card at one of the security checkpoints throughout Machiavelli. While on board the station, we require all weapons to be properly peace-bonded, capped, or holstered as is appropriate per weapon type in the interest of mutual safety.

Personal Modifications or Extraordinary Abilities:
This includes things such as bio or cybernetic augments, additions, and magical or psionic abilities. These obviously cannot be removed or confiscated, however, they must be registered with Station Security in the same manner as weapons.

Diplomatic Immunity:
The Dominion does not recognize 'diplomatic immunity'. If the law is broken aboard this station, it does not matter who you are, you will be treated equally, and with as much fairness as can be managed in any given situation.

Station Approach:
All vessels are required to radio ahead their intent to enter Dominion space, and to wait for proper escort before proceeding. Dominion space extends to 5 Lsec from the station itself. *This translates to a roughly 1.5 million kilometer radius sphere of influence. This space will be heavily monitored and policed by Dominion forces.

Search and Seizure:
We reserve the right to search and inspect any ship docking with Machiavelli to assure that it is in compliance with Dominion Law. Any craft being searched has the right to have three members of the crew accompany the inspection teams. If a ship is found to not be in compliance, we reserve the right to impound the craft and its cargo.

Contraband:
We do not allow the storage, sale, or distribution of nuclear, chemical or biological weapons, on the station, or in Dominion space. We reserve the right to decide what does and does not fall into this category in cases where it may be unclear as to the intent of the substance at hand. Any such items or substances will be confiscated and the appropriate action taken.

Violence:
We intend for Machiavelli to be a peaceful station. Anyone found disturbing the peace or intentionally harming or threatening harm someone will be dealt with accordingly. Murder is considered a capital offense. In the case of foreign visitors or residents, their respective governments will be contacted, as well as any appropriate corporations/businesses in the case of their employees.

Theft, Vandalism, Etc:
Such crimes will not be tolerated on Machiavelli, and will be dealt with in the appropriate manner.


We have a zero-tolerance policy for law-breaking. Anyone found not in compliance with the laws and guidelines set forth here runs the risk of incarceration, being escorted off the station, or having personal docking privileges revoked. Other risks may include loss of business licenses, confiscation of goods, equipment, or belongings, and of course, fines. Please be aware that our security teams do utilize non-lethal force where at all possible, though they are not limited to it.

Any of the security checkpoints on Machiavelli are equipped to handle complaints and need for intervention. Please report crimes or suspicious behaviour to Station Security.



ooc: *Beg pardon if my numbers are off. Not my area of expertise - just going off of what's been suggested here and there. If said numbers are terribly off, I'll be happy to adjust them accordingly. More info on Dominion Law and customs can be found here for those interested. I will probably be going back over this list and modifying it in the next few pending review. That's probably another thing to bear in mind: while we don't tend to be bastards about things, we're a dictatorship. Dominion Law, when you come right down to it, is whatever we say it is.

Nathicana smiles quietly at her guest over her ever-present glass of ice water. She had been looking forward to this conversation for some time. Here, sitting comfortably in the courtyard of her villa, surrounded by the tranquility of her gardens, simply adds to her enjoyment of the experience. "So, mia sorella," she says casually. "Managing to keep busy?"

S.H.O.D.A.N. chuckles softly in return, watching the leaves on the trees and bushes rustle quietly in the breeze. Apparent chaos in a system definable purely by rigid science, the kind of little practically random things that she likes to simply experience from time to time. "Always... you know that," she replies with a smile, addressing the heat signature outside her field of visible-light vision. "There are, however, advantages to a segmented consciousness."

"I can only imagine," Nathi replies with a wry little grin. "Can't help but think I need more of me to keep on top of everything I'd like to. There's times I envy you, sis."

"There's the occasional disadvantage too. The most permeating one is the more copies of myself I make and add to my collective consciousness, the more I end up needing as I take up more responsibilities." The gynoid avatar tilts one end of her coppery lips up in a smirk. "And Speaker wonders why I like relaxing on the couch on his office."

Nathicana nods knowingly, trying to keep the mischief from her smile. "Oh, I can imagine. Balance, and all. Nothing comes for free. How is Fuzzb...Speeks doing, anyway? It's been a while."

Shodey cackles softly, grinning broadly as she glances at her sister-in-mind. "I see you've discovered Julie's nickname for him. He's doing quite well, it seems--hearty and hale--but the absolute paranoiac in me says too well. Nevertheless, it only makes sense that he catch a break some time. Honestly, sometimes I find myself almost envying him." She chuckles softly again.

"Now that you'll have to explain, if willing. The very thought of having to preside over so large and diverse a nation as the Segments is enough to make me cringe. I've seen firsthand the difficulties that come with so many highly opinionated, strong-minded folk who're encouraged to speak their mind. Lord knows the dears have been a right pain in my ass a time or two," the dark-haired woman replies, one brow arching questioningly.

"He's healthy and most of all quite happy despite his stressful position and being Patriarch on the side. While I can understand that sort of peace, it's not anywhere near common in anyone, mechanoid or organic." How she says the last phrase tends to suggest it's more common among mechs than meatbags, but simply as an observation. "Like I said, nothing really important."

"Some are blessed," Nathi says simply. "Or perhaps are just more insightful than most. Until the rest of us find the 'key to happiness and a good life' though, I suppose we'll have to content ourselves with other amusments. Speaking of which ..." She trails off meaningfully, giving Shodey a sly look.

S.H.O.D.A.N. glances over again, quickly mirroring the look in an unintentionally yet oddly appropriate way. Curious how these two who look so different can seem so similar from time to time. "I know that look. Out with it."

"Oh, just pondering a proposition, sis. Another 'project', so to speak, with a payoff. Nothing you'd be terribly interested in I'm sure," Nathi says dryly, dropping her gaze and tracing along the top of her glass with one finger.

"So we have you saying I would turn down a profit whilst your mate paints me as the most mercenary being to grace the multiverse. No wonder poor little ten-thousand-mind me is so confused." The mechanoid queen chuckles again, watching Nathi with a smirk before feigning a dry, suffering tone. "Either I will find it interesting or not, but you are my sister and familial duty demands I at least listen to your idea."

Nathicana grins at that, then takes a slow sip of her water. "Machiavelli." She watches her sister-in-mind, giving her the opportunity to ponder whatever possibilities come to her decidedly advanced mind before going on. And recognizing with amusement that however brief the pause seemed on this end, it would likely be time enough for Shodey to cover all of them at least a dozen times each, and then some.

Shodey takes advantage of the time offered and does indeed run that single word through the list of usual suspects in her mind. To summarize the result of the arbitrarily huge number of processing cycles addressed to the problem: There is history concerning Niccolo Machiavelli, but she has never come to me as a history book before and the possibility that she means the historical figure is low. His works have inspired various criticisms and treatises.

The Dominion has a large station in co-orbit with Saturn under that name, and given previous mention of 'proposition' and 'payoff' the probability of that being the subject is highest. 01MC has not officially entered the Trade Association that uses Machiavelli as its hub, but it is also not an invite organization so the probability of any offer concerning that is also low.

Highest probability result, knowing what Nathi knows about me and my past experience with large multipurpose orbital facilities near Saturn... estimated probability is around 72.436 percent, metered mostly by just how well she takes history to heart.

After all this, her reply is simple enough. They've played this game before. "I have an idea what you might mean, but please go on. You know how I hate to be wrong."

"Aye, don't we all." Another slow sip, then Nathi sets the drink aside. "I understand that for several reasons, this is going to seem like a rather ... forward request. The simple facts are you are the best one to make the request of, given our needs, and the only one I would trust enough with it, as well. Security on my station. I was hoping you might agree to assist with aspects of it." Her tone and bearing make it clear she is entirely serious, and quite genuine in her compliments. Still, she waches Shodey closely. All earlier teasing aside, this wasn't a request made lightly.

S.H.O.D.A.N. nods quietly, going so far as to break eye contact as she thinks it over. After a minute, she chuckles with a quiet wryness. "I do indeed have experience with administering stations out that way... a first command, it could be called. I'm sure we all know how that went." She looks back up, smile still wry but visage more professional. "What particular aspects are you looking for... 'assistance' with?"

"Your tech and the capability to run scans on a large multifaceted facilty is something we just can't match, and I don't want to tie up my people with all manner of physical searches for contraband," Nathi says gently. "I'm concerned about hazardous materials making it onto the station, or possible biohazards, given the trade hub it's becoming."

"We've far too many different cultures, nations, indeed, worlds coming and going there for us to feel at ease with our current measures. Simple assistance with one aspect of security - no more, no less."

"So it really would be going back to at least one aspect of my Citadel days, watching life through a few thousand cameras." Shodey chuckles softly.

"If cameras are what is needed to run bio-chemical scans ..." Nathi says uncertainly, frowning slightly. "You've come a long way from there, mia sorella. Machiavelli is not Citadel. In any case, if it is something that would cause you discomfort, we needn't discuss it further."

"Cameras with noses and x-ray vision, then," the mechanoid replies in a softly humorous voice. "I can do that quite easily. It'll be nostalgic to get back to my roots, even a little bit." Just camera-watching is a little beneath my ability, but I can take a hit in the pride for family.

"And analysis of the air quality aboard station? Again, the worry is for foreign substances that may become harmful when interacting in our own systems. If you've suggestions for what else needs checking along those lines, I'm more than happy to hear them. This is new territory for us." Even if it is 'old hat' for you, however warped it eventually became. Wouldn't be asking if I didn't trust her implicitly. So long as isn't a 'bad' thing for her ...

"Air quality is doable as well; just put sensors in the ventilation systems. I suppose I could also be on retainer to tinker with any microbiology issues that will inevitably come up."

Nathicana nods slightly, still watching with concern. "That is the other part to the equation, I suppose. If something is found, we need someone with more experience and ability to deal with it. We're working, we're advancing, but the more we see, the more we seem to realize just how limited we really are. I realize this doesn't amount to much in the grand scheme of things, and I understand any hesitation at accepting. Truth, wasn't entirely sure how you'd take me asking."

"Honestly, this isn't something I'm prone to thinking about given that what happened to Citadel is a good enough reason to make people wary about giving me any position on their stations, much less security or administration. I'd be glad to work as a consultant on this, administering customs checks and providing real-time security.

"That sort of thing is why I was created, after all." The gynoid avatar chuckles softly with a smile. "Centralized control to make sure the superorganism of Citadel worked day in and day out as efficiently as possible. If anything, I'll have to learn to deal with the disconnects of acting in a purely support role outside of central administration."

"Consultation would be more than adequate, so long as we can purchase run any necessary equipment ourselves. The proposal was never intended as an top-level admin position. Just assistance You know how we get about our own business and security, all past aside. You would be he only outside interest even remotely involved."

S.H.O.D.A.N. nods. "And knowing 'how you get' about your business, I'm honored. As long as I can crack into the displays every so often and fool with people on a purely need-to-be-pranked basis, we have a deal."

The dark-haired woman arches a brow at that, laughing softly. "Pranking those that need pranked? Oh, given what I'm asking, I think that's more than appropriate."

"Outstanding." Shodey smiles. "Won't this turn some heads..."

"Let it," Nathi replies, perhaps more firmly than need be. "Those who dislike it are free to leave. I know whom I trust. Besides, should provide an opportunity for extended contacts for yourself and your corporation as well."

"Heh heh heh," the mechanoid chuckles slyly. "'She's baaaaaack...'"

Regarding: Bio/Ecological Security
Priority: Minimal

As requested by the oversight administration, I have recently upgraded Machiavelli Station's measures against the internal spread of biocontaminants. Previously station security emphasis relied mostly upon prevention and detection through access points and in sector environmental control, but with the potential of new biological formulations being input from within the Station itself more active measures are required, such as:
• Nanological/biological active filters in both sector environment control and major transit points in the life support system.
• Nanological 'grey mist' dispersed as an active 'immune' response throughout the system to detect and eliminate harmful pathogens, primarily considered a response to an acute dispersal.
• Customized biological 'dust' spread into the system to attach to the receptors of the most common and perhaps most 'annoying' pathogens (common cold), thus neutralizing them--best for chronic and otherwise unavoidable presences.
• Electromagnetic screens used in tandem with filters to irradiate life support resources in case of acute infection.
• Active measures and separation between individual sectors and decks, allowing entire modules to be isolated if necessary.
• Special use zones (such as the volume to be dedicated to the Pilonese Casino) have been especially upgraded, nominally open but with additional measures taken to isolate them from the greater Station ecology and to ensure a hermetic seal in case such dramatic measures become necessary.
There have been no acute pathogen dispersal events to date of note (the occasional very sick traveller notwithstanding). The continued health and safety of Station occupants and itinerants have not been under threat.

As could probably be expected there has been a great deal of intermixing from all of the various locations Machiavelli does business with. While the Station certainly cannot be defined as pathogen-free (as such an endeavor would be far too expensive and difficult to undertake to reach even minimal 'clean-room' standards) the latest atmospheric census shows only marginal levels of non-dehabilitating pathogens that are well below the environmental standards of their origins.

However, the upgrade in census-taking equipment have detected several microorganisms that were somehow missed by previous scans. I have identified most of them, but several appear to be of unknown origin, probably mutations of imported microbiology adapting to the Station's ecosystem. Initial tests do not show them to be pathogenic but I will be studying them in detail to confirm longer-term effects. Several are actually surprisingly numerous and so the risk of exposure is probably high, given the lack of detection up until now, but there is no evidence that they are anything other than completely benign.

Additional information is available upon request to the Department of Station Security at any sector office or deck station.


S.H.O.D.A.N. v3.0
Administrator of Machiavelli Station Security
Machiavelli Station
__________________
"What's clear is that SHODAN shouldn't be allowed to play God. She's far too good at it."
--Prefontaine, crewman of UNS Rickenbacker during the Von Braun incident.
Ghost of Citadel... BOO!

Things had run surprisingly smoothly over the past long while - the only real hiccup having been when the Pilonese were asked to vacate the premises. Machiavelli had become quite the bustling trade hub, often a vacation spot for not only businessmen, but those rich and privileged who liked to casually drop that they'd spent their weekend up on Machiavelli, gambling, dancing, dining, being pampered, what have you.

Even those without a lot of filthy lucre had dozens of different entertainments at their fingertips from the high class, to the down and dirty. Machaivelli had it all - the good, and the bad.

As with any place where money flowed, organized crime had perhaps found a foothold, though they by no means ran the joint - much to their dissatisfaction, no doubt. Still, many a legitimate-seeming business elsewhere, as well as here, could serve as a perfect front for less pleasant business, for those who knew what to look for.

Perhaps there were bits of security paid to look the other way so long as the goings on didn't endanger the station - or security in general. Perhaps certain activities 'escaped' notice when needed, but it never seemed to upset the ebb and flow of Machiavelli, and as such, life went on there unperturbed.

Machiavelli Station was a point of pride for those involved in its development, of that there was no doubt. It had been a first for the Dominion, and thus far, its only foray into space station construction. In keeping with those things the nation found important, it had become a hub of activity for trade, commerce, diplomacy, and of course, entertainment.

The many nations who had gathered to lease space and participate in the creation of this unique location had thus far shown unprecedented success in both co-existing well enough, and creating such a diverse place where opportunities those who might not, in the normal course of things, interact with one another, existed. Not only that, but the Dominion had regular shuttle services departing from within its own borders and holdings, and any other locations that they had been able to contract with, so as to offer those who lacked the ability to travel such distances on their own could affordably manage to partake in the experience as well.

Machiavelli, and its outlying structures – of which there were by this time, many – hung like a shining, cold jewel in the darkness of space, comfortably held in orbit at the Saturn L4 point. From the station itself, thousands of ports opened a view to the comings and goings of regular traffic to its various docking stations, outlying constructs, and of course, views of Saturn and The Ring.

Inside could be found nearly everything one could imagine to see, taste, or experience – within reason. Embassy Row, as it came to be called unofficially, was an area mostly populated by various governments, corporations, and satellite offices where business and diplomacy dominated, with scattered eateries and small office supply points, along with the usual security checkpoints and offices that were located throughout the structure.

Hotels, casinos, spas, sportsplexes, restaurants, coffee and tea shops, movie theaters of all sorts, arcades, simulators, zero gravity entertainment, opera and ballet houses, clubs, hookah cafes, shopping centers, botanical gardens, scientific displays, art galleries, and at least one menagerie – all could be found on the various levels and sections not devoted wholly to warehousing, or scientific research. Among these, less visible establishments also flourished, such as escort services, massage parlors, pleasure palaces, drug houses and other potentially questionable dens of hedonistic activities.

Lifts at the center of the station provided express passage to the various levels, small ‘cabs’ provided the same, for a price, along the outer rings, and within, one could find moving sidewalks, escalators, and even an enterprising company who had established a fleet of rickshaws, allowed visitors to move around on the large levels with ease and comfort.

Security was present, but not in an ominous or painfully obvious way. Help was available where needed, as well as medical facilities and first aid centers. Police boxes of a sort could be found on each level where assistance could be requested, reports made, complaints lodged, and questions asked. A good deal of the security measures in place were subtle or unseen, keeping the comfort as well as the safety of the visitors in mind. And, as with any large organization or structure or as it was, community, there were the occasional corrupt individuals who could be ‘convinced’ to look the other way or perhaps investigate a person or organization more thoroughly than the situation warranted – all for the right price. No system was perfect, but all in all, things ran rather smoothly all the same.

Not only were there a plethora of sights and sounds to be experienced, but there was always room for more, should the enterprising sentient choose to embark on a business venture. Diplomatic and business contacts could be made, deals brokered, problems solved – permanently or otherwise – pleasures sought, fantasies fulfilled, and perhaps just a simple peace of mind achieved. It was all up to the visitor and what they wanted to accomplish when setting foot on Machiavelli. And the truly fun part of it all, is that it was open to almost everyone.





ooc: See here for some DLN info, here for Machiavelli summary, and here for an idea on Dominion law and the usual expectations of etiquette for these sorts of open stories and the like. The original thread can be seen here for reference as well. Feel free to take what you like and run with it – I’ll be happy to rp along, assist where I can, and mediate where necessary. To those of you familiar, you know I’m on irc, for those with questions, tg me and I’ll do what I can to assist. This was always intended as a location people could use to have fun with, rp on, and use as a backdrop for their own stories if they wanted without having to worry about bombs going off everywhere, war being waged over ridiculous things, and stupidly overpowered stuff ruining a potentially good story. Hope some ideas here and details help the visualization – not going to even try to map things out, just know that the command center is at the very tip top, and everything else goes from there.

Free United States 24-04-2009 20:21
To: Bernardo di Medici, Minister of Trade
Fr: Pankrati Gerasim Dikau, Secretary of Commerce, CFUS
Thru: Federal Space Agency, CADF Space Command, Department of Commerce

>>
The Commonwealth would like to accept the extension of your invite to lease property on your Machiavelli Station. Our own stations of Tyr and Asgard are mostly military installations, and we would like the chance to further our civilian influence within the ventures of space. A joint mission of our Federal Space Agency (Federal'noe Kosmicheskoe Agentstvo), Red Star Industries, General Energies Dynamic and the Air Defense Force, the research facility would be used to conduct experiments on aerospace design and components, as well as aerospace medicines. We hope that these necessities can be fulfilled.

Pankrati Gerasim Dikau,
Secretary of Commerce
Commonwealth of Free United States

Dread Lady Nathicana 24-04-2009 22:07
To: Pankrati Gerasim Dikau, Secretary of Commerce, CFUS
From: Bernardo di Medici, Dominion Minister of Trade
Re: Station Space Leasing

After due consideration, we have decided to honor your request, and suggest that given the nature of your needs, that you lease one, or part of one of the outlying structures, with of course options for offices on the main Machiavelli structure as needed.

Please find attached a copy of the lease agreement, station rules and expectations, and all other information you and yours should require in order to begin setting up shop - along with a list of currently available structures for your perusal.

Once you've made your choice, and have filed the proper paperwork, official moving in can begin. Feel free to send out a representative to inspect the structures in question, and meet with station officials if you like, or we can handle the transactions digitally via secure channels.

We look forward to working with you, and hope that Machiavelli will prove to be a successful and profitable venture for your interests.

--Bernardo di Medici, Dominion Minister of Trade

The-Citadel 25-04-2009 00:09
To: Bernardo di Medici, Dominion Minister of Trade
Fr: Hope Starwards Ruhazhny, Secretary for the Concord Cybernetic Engineering Federation Projects Committee
Re: Lease of space aboard Machiavelli Station

Dear sir,

It is my pleasure to request your consideration of the attached proposal for the establishment of a CCEF technical hospital and foreign outreach point aboard Machiavelli Station, the Projects Committee having recently voted in favour of this submission. The CCEF hopes to offer commercially viable (and highly effective) cybernetic enhancement to the general public aboard Machiavelli Station (provided that such is not contrary to Dominion laws), in accordance with the mission statement of the CCEF and Article One of the Concord's Charter For Continuous Revolution.

The CCEF's work is known throughout the Outer Dominions as superior to any competitor, and I hope that our good reputation may soon spread to Saturnian space.

Sincerely,

Hope Starwards Ruhazhny, Secretary for the Concord Cybernetic Engineering Federation Projects Committee
Red Star of Eternal Progress Station, the Belt, United Socialist Concord (by Extraordinary Mandate of the Inner Council an Outer Dominion of the Citadel)
"Every generation needs a new revolution"

Free United States 25-04-2009 01:27
To: Bernardo di Medici, Minister of Trade
Fr: Pankrati Gerasim Dikau, Secretary of Commerce, CFUS
Thru: Federal Space Agency, CADF Space Command, Department of Commerce

>>The Commonwealth is glad to be accepted and counted among your number. The appropriate documents have been signed and dated and sent to you shortly. Our own team will arrive soon onboard a military vessel. Payment has also been approved and will be wired shortly.

Pankrati Gerasim Dikau,
Secretary of Commerce
Commonwealth of Free United States




Heimdall Air Defense Base, CFUS
The shimmering metal of the immense four-and-a-half mile long mass driver gleamed brilliantly in the early morning sunlight. The base was a hive of activity as the ground crews prepared for the shuttle launch. Instead of the usual unmanned payload, this shuttle was equipped with it’s own booster assembly, necessary since the mass driver launch would be transporting personnel as well as materiel.
Stepping from the escorting Jeep, Second Lieutenant Michael Crussov looked up at the massive launch platform. As part of the team from the ADF’s Institute for Aerospace Studies, Michael was going to be one of those passengers. The rest of his team stepped out as well, following in step behind him as he led the way towards the platform. An elevator would take them up the several stories to the actual launch device, giving him all the time to think of their new venture.

Hlin, Motokata
The second mass driver operated by the Commonwealth had been built in cooperation with one of its allies, Motokata. Now, as it prepared for launch, the civilian facility was a flurry of traffic. A helicopter had landed during the chaos, and a group of four stepped out. Each wore civilian clothing, save for a fifth in Commonwealth ADF grays. The Air Force officer led them forward, pointing at certain areas or turning to explain something.
They were met by a similar team of four, also led by a military officer. One civilian from each group stepped forward to introduce themselves and their colleagues.
“Dr. Dorian Blevins,” said one, extending his hand.
“Dr. Nora Chase,” said the other, the wind whipping her strawberry-blonde hair behind her.
Nora was part of the Red Star team assembled to go to Machiavelli, while Dorian was leading the General Energies team. Though the owners of their respective companies were bitter rivals, the scientists shared no such animosity, and in fact, both were respective of one another’s careers. And while Nora was heading up the medical research to be conducted, Dorian would be working with aerospace design.

FSS Flame of the Æsir LCNS-01
Sulking in the dead of space in low orbit above the earth, the small corvette, one of the most advanced ships in the fleet, awaited its next assignment. It would rendezvous with the two shuttles, ferrying them and the team already assembled on the ship to Machiavelli Station. Standing on the bridge, Lt. Cdr. Moira Ramius, Captain of the Æsir, surveyed the vast emptiness before her and the great orb of the earth below. She certainly didn’t mind the mission, but after two years as master of the vessel, she had come to yearn for more; a peculiar trait in a Commonwealth Defense officer. Taking a silver pocketwatch from her pocket, Moira counted down the moments to launch.

Also onboard was a team of five cosmonauts, who were on the team to provide assistance in their various fields. They had gathered at a starboard observation port, looking out from the earth towards the area of space they would soon travel to, yearning for the trip of a lifetime.

Dread Lady Nathicana 25-04-2009 17:01

To: Hope Starwards Ruhazhny, Secretary for the Concord Cybernetic Engineering Federation Projects Committee
From: Bernardo di Medici, Dominion Minister of Trade
Re: Lease of space aboard Machiavelli Station

A technical hospital would be an interesting addition, so long as you are sure to keep our staff updated as to procedures, substances, and any potentially hazardous materials involved. Be aware that the laws require all enhancements be registered with Station Security, so setting up some sort of fast-track process for your patients to have their records and cards updated would likely be in your best interests.

Enhancements are not unknown, as we have several close allies who have worked with enhancements of various sorts for years – so we are not opposed to you opening up your own branch, so long as all the paperwork is properly processed, and for our own citizens, backgrounds checked and cleared before procedures are carried out. What you do with the citizens of other nations is your business – again, so long as their security cards are updated accordingly for our records.

Foreign outreach has always been a principle purpose for Machiavelli, and we have areas for such ventures set aside for just that, along with a plethora of other governments, agencies, and corporations. I’m certain that sufficient offices and quarters can be found, as well as space for your hospital alongside our more commercial settings. Lodgings for your employees and representatives have several options available, such as building directly into your office space, renting as a block, or allowing them to make their own choices in the primarily residential areas, as indicated on the following attachments.

Please find also attached several suggestions and prices for spaces available that you might find of interest. Unless you plan on requiring a huge amount of space, we would recommend those aboard the main structure.

We look forward to doing business with you, and hope that this venture will prove mutually profitable for both our organizations.

-- Bernardo di Medici, Dominion Minister of Trade

To: Pankrati Gerasim Dikau, Secretary of Commerce, CFUS C/O Federal Space Agency, CADF Space Command, Department of Commerce
From: Bernardo di Medici, Dominion Minister of Trade
Re: Receipt of Lease Agreements

As noted, the documents have been received, and your preferred spaces have been made available. Should you require any special adjustments or arrangements, please do not hesitate to contact Station Maintenance so that we can get you taken care of.

Welcome aboard Machiavelli. And if I may be so bold as to suggest to you another service our offices provide, the Trade Network Alliance has been a very efficient tool of trade, communication, and commercial transactions, not to mention the unique opportunities it offers to expanding your horizons.

-- -- Bernardo di Medici, Dominion Minister of Trade

Free United States 26-04-2009 00:31
Heimdall ADB, CFUS

With final preparations complete, the SSTO was ready. The mass driver fired after a slow countdown, rocketing down the accelerator and blasting into the sky, it's rockets firing once it cleared the magnetic railing.


Hlin, Motokata

As the Bifrost mass driver fired, the Hlin driver began its own countdown, firing mere minutes after its predecessor. The civilian team held on, knowing the shock of a launch, though neither had ever experienced one before.


FSS Flame of the Æsir LCNS-01

As the SSTO's launched, the ship prepared to recieve them, lowering it's orbit and maneuvering into retrieval position. Captain Ramius was quiet, looking at the numerous technical displays afforded her. Moving in orbit at thousands of miles an hour, she was expected to catch two craft at the same speed launched from different areas...much could go wrong.



An hour later....

The Æsir had successfully retrieved its new passengers, the SSTO's departing from whence they came as the last of the personnel disembarked. Ramius had been down in the hangar to greet them.

"Welcome aboard the Æsir," she greeted them in unison. The military officers saluted, to which she returned. "The travel to the Tyr Spacedock will be three hours, from which we'll recieve additional supplies. We should arrive at Machiavelli five hours afterwards. Prepare for spacefold in ten minutes," she added. With that, she excused herself and left the rest of the pleasantries to her XO, Lieutenant Breshnye.

On the bridge once more, Ramius took her seat in the command chair.

"Astrometrics, are the fold calculations completed?" she demanded.

"Yes, Comrade-Captain," the officer replied, "Calculations for spacefold are completed."

"Helm, what's our position?"

"Captain, we are holding position as per Astrometrics calculations and are not inside Terran or Lunar magnetic fields."

"Very good," she nodded, picking up a handset, "All hands, set Condition Two; prepare for immediate spacefold. She placed the handset down and waited impatiently as each compartment answered 'ready.' Once the last area was readied, she stood up, stout and proud. "Initiate spacefold!"

From the ships immense and mysterious furnaces, unfathomable energy was created and released. Out in space, motes of incandescent light sparked and died, their presence leaving a strange aura about the ship. Archs of energy traversed the surface of the vessel, their strange colors lighting up the night. At once, the motes and lightning solidified into a singular orb surrounding the Æsir. In a moment the orb died and dissipated, and the ship was nowhere in sight.


Tyr Spacedock, Mars

Archs of light probed the darkness of space. As before, orbs of energy sparked to life and died in milliseconds, fading to the nothingness they had come from. A sphere of brilliant light appeared, and as the luminescent orb faded off, the Æsir emerged. Its conventional engines flared, aiming towards the spacedock.

ooc: sorry for the length. trying to show i can do long posts as well

The-Citadel 26-04-2009 09:02

To: Bernardo di Medici, Dominion Minister of Trade
Fr: Hope Starwards Ruhazhny, Secretary for the Concord Cybernetic Engineering Federation Projects Committee
Re: Lease of space aboard Machiavelli Station

We will have no problems with filing the correct paperwork - the Concord is no stranger to "red" tape, ha ha! In the Outer Dominions operations offered range from simple neural interfacing and medical replacements through to full cybernetic prostheses, including in some cases weapons systems.

Attached are revised plans for the hospital and associated facilities, utilizing the schematics provided. We hope they are satisfactory.

Sincerely,

Hope Starwards Ruhazhny, Secretary for the Concord Cybernetic Engineering Federation Projects Committee
Red Star of Eternal Progress Station, the Belt, United Socialist Concord (by Extraordinary Mandate of the Inner Council an Outer Dominion of the Citadel)
"Every generation needs a new revolution"

Attachment(s): Station facilities plans (revised)

OOC: This following assuming all goes well ...

The Concord starship approaching Machiavelli Station is a truncated wedge three hundred and fifty meters long and five hundred across, painted a cheerful arterial red (this is traditional). It is named Herald of Altruistic Harmony, which ought to be ironic in any freighter as heavily armed as this one is. It decelerates towards the station on four fat fusion exhaust plumes at a speedy fifteen standard gravities (and the station's sensors will show that it is not, in fact, under artificial gravity).

The Herald of Altruistic Harmony comes to rest relative to the station with nary a wasted erg of thrust, and the representatives of the Concord Cybernetic Engineering Federation are soon aboard (and coated in a thick layer of frosted atmospheric moisture, because the Herald is not pressurized, either). The seven cyborgs range in height from five to ten feet, and while all are bipedal and reasonably humanoid, the similarities stop there; their chassii range from a pair of massive supercargos equipped with outsized hydraulic arms to a petite female humaniform, with a variety of statuesque seeming suits of armour in between.

Despite external appearances, they are not robots; each of them holds a securely protected human brain and an efficient nutrition system, albeit that the former has been fairly heavily enhanced and the latter is almost entirely mechanical.

There is one other similarity, to be honest; each and every one of them is armed, and in the Concord the "right to bear arms" is meant rather more literally than elsewhere. The larger two are also running off highly powered (if highly compact) nuclear batteries. But they're polite and entirely cooperative with the customs agents (and speak flawless Dominion Italian). Their spokescyborg, the childlike gynoid Continual-Revolution-Is-The-Safeguard-of-Liberty Adams, explains that the Herald bears the initial equipment and parts of the Concord technical hospital and outreach center, and that the appropriate staff will be arriving later, when all is ready.

Atlantis Exsilio 26-04-2009 14:36
AS Provacator
In transit - Pegasus-Sol System

"I am going to be so glad to get off this ship," Captain Jake Grogan said as he finished his breakfast. "Three weeks is way too long to be cooped up on this thing. You'd think that someone would come up with a super-fast intergalactic hyperdrive...."

"Our hyperdrives are more efficient by over an order of magnitude," his science officer Hortatius replied, having heard this gripe several times since the ship left Asuras on the journey to scout Earth and its environs. "Its a trade-off and an equilibrium that has been arrived at after tens out thousands of years of deliberation."

"It doesn't mean this flight hasn't been boring as hell," Grogan said.

"Three weeks is inconsequential," Horatius said.

"Maybe for someone who's hundreds of years old. I'm twenty-eight. I used to have a social life before I took this job."

Horatius frowned. "I'm only a hundred ten, that's not even into middle age. And I'll have you know I have a very active social life as well."

"Sure."

The mess hall's speakers came to life. "Bridge to Grogan. We're about to drop out of hyperspace, sir."

"Thank you, lieutenant. I'll be up shortly." Grogan looked at his companion. "Well, let's go."

A few minutes later, Provacator entered normal space. It was a small ship, barely three hundred meters long and based on a gunship design with a large mission-adaptable module grafted into the middle. It had little in the way of obvious armament, beyond some long suspicious-looking spines, and in fact most of its missile and secondary weapons had been removed to make room for sensors and science labs.

"Wow," Grogan said, staring at the bridge's main screen. "That's a lot of ships."

"Nearly ten thousand in the immediate area," said cargo officer Leceuthea. "That's just the traffic around the planet you call Saturn. There may well be over a million ships within the system... the number keeps changing randomly. Significant concentrations around Saturn, Earth, Mars, and Venus. Quite a lot appear to be warships."

They had heard that Sol was a madhouse from the independent trader another exploration group had contacted weeks before, but they hadn't quite believed it. Yet there it was. Mars alone probably had hundreds of times more military equipment in orbit than the entire Lantean fleet, and the shear amount of visible firepower near Saturn was mind-boggling. Even the knowledge that the ZPM-powered Constitution was lurking nearby as backup wasn't much consolation for Grogan - if someone started shooting, things would get very bad very quickly.

It was also confirmation of what they had already suspected - Earth in this universe was far, far different from home.

"Corporal Hicks, please start transmitting to the station along standard frequencies, in English," he ordered after a moment.

"Channel open, sir."

"Machiavelli station, this is the Atlantean starship Provacator. We are here on a peaceful mission of exploration and trade. We had heard this was an open port and were wondering what the terms for docking and beginning some kind of trade would be."

Free United States 27-04-2009 10:40
Tyr Spacedock, Mars

The Commonwealth's farthest-reaching outpost was located in orbit around the red planet, it's name a pun on the name long-given to the rusty rock. Unlike the Asgard station, which was built from a small planetoid, Tyr was completely manmade, utilizing materials and metals taken from Mars herself. It was a singular shaft, with three "ribs" along it, curving in an oblong half-circle. The Æsir had docked on the lowermost starboard 'rib,' as it was loaded with the final supplies.

Captain Ramius, however, had a different task at hand to manage. She had come down to the portside hangar bay, observing as the ship was disarmed. As a further precaution to approaching Machiavelli, Spacy Command had ordered a complete disarmament of the ship and its airwing. She observed an SF-01 spacefighter undergoing the process now, coils of transuranic 20mm rounds being removed from its gun stores and loaded into large ammunition containers. Missiles, rockets and other weapons were being similarly stored, deep within the armory of the ship.

Ramius turned from the sight and headed back to the bridge to oversee the deactivation of the weapon systems. She passed crewmen along the corridors, reassuring them of their peaceful mission and that the lack of weapons in no way made them vulnerable, though she reserved doubts herself. Taking a dropshaft upward, Ramius let the quietness of the tube to calm her own nerves. At the right level, she stepped forward, back onto solid deck plating.

"Captain on the bridge," the deck officer greeted her as Ramius waved off the 'attention.'

"Are we ready to disarm?" she inquired.

"Yes, Comrade-Captain," the deck officer, Ensign Crusso answered. "We are awaiting orders."

"Deactivate offensive systems," Ramius replied.

"Aye, aye," Crusso said. "Commencing with weapons shutdown. Mjollnir cannons deactivated, Baldr Gauss cannons deactivated...Point-Defense railguns on cold standby; offensive LIDAR system deactivated, all missiles and rockets stored and accounted for-sealing all launchers. Countermeasures on standby. Captain, we are disarmed," he reported.

"Hmm..." she nodded in response.

Nearly an hour later, the ship had left dock once more, heading towards its final destination. In a fleeting glimpse of its earlier fold, the ship was gone once more.


Machiavelli Station (finally)

The fabric of space was once again deformed, contracted and expanded as the Æsir emerged from the nethers of the universe. Sparkling motes of anti-protons and excess matter glinted off of the ship's hull as it held station outside of the Machiavelli's cordon.

Ramius picked up the handset and the Comm. officer nodded that they were broadcasting.

"This is Captain Ramius of the Commonwealth Spacy ship Flame of the Æsir. We have come to deliver our scientific and research personnel along with their equipment as per our agreement with you. Awaiting clearance to dock."

Please pardon the delay ...

The Citadel

All was found to be in order, and what preparations necessary were made in anticipation of the arrival of the Citadel delegation, and the rest of the standard communiqués were made en route to clear the way for docking.

New arrivals were always greeted by a station liaison, in this case Marko Piersanti, along with various other sentients who might have an interest or be potentially helpful to whatever party was newly boarding. In this case, it included a member of security to brief them in person concerning the carrying of weapons aboard Machiavelli – which while allowed, was monitored and registries kept. In the case of mechanoids, any non-standards were also required to be registered – as any special abilities or upgrades or implants were of any sentient being coming aboard. The local medical practitioner’s office was also represented, Maintenance and Construction, and the Business and Trade commission as well, mostly to make initial contact and offer any assistance necessary.

Checking in is a simple process, and ident cards are assigned to each member, each one dually serving as keys for access, and in the case of those companies or governments who have set up monetary accounts for their members, debit cards of a sort. Data ports are available along the station at various spots for quick access of station information, locations, the reporting of incidents, and quick contacts within Machiavelli’s various parts, and basic instructions are given as the Citadel party is escorted to their new holdings. Of course they are all given free run of the station, aside from operational and maintenance areas, and are invited to make themselves at home, not hesitating to request any assistance the staff could offer.

“Oh behalf of the Dominion, welcome to Machiavelli station,” the slender, dark-haired liaison offers, smiling pleasantly.

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

Atlantis Exsilio

“Sir, we’re receiving a request for docking and data from a previously unknown source.”

Looking over the message, Commander Gilberto Clemente nods thoughtfully, and quietly orders the usual scans made, and informational packets prepared.

“Direct them in to the main business ring, and get some folks scrambled to make them feel at home. First contacts are always a pleasure. Be certain they understand the basic rules and regs, and assure them of their safety while in our controlled space.”

“Acting, sir.”

“Provocator, this is Machiavelli Station responding to your request. You are more than welcome to dock on the primary ring, as per the following coordinates. If you would please send your ship’s manifest along the secure channel also provided prior to docking, we should have you cleared for boarding shortly.” Instructions are given, a flight path is outlined, assurances made, and a request for transference of informational data is sent.

“The data packet contains information on station rules and regs, basic contacts you may find necessary, an overview of amenities available, and instructions for obtaining your ident cards required of all Machiavelli visitors and staff. A station representative will be on hand at your arrival to make introductions, and help facilitate any requests you may have. We hope you have a pleasant stay, and that we may be of service to you.”

In the meantime, Angelise Jovene, Machiavelli liaison, along with a small group of others makes their way to the designated docking space in order to greet and brief the newcomers.

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

FUS

The message from the Commonwealth ship was indeed expected, and as such, arrangements had been made largely in advance, and standard procedures should have been already known. Still, a request for permission to transmit the standard data pack, and for the ship’s manifest was sent along, as well as docking instructions and flight path coordinates.

Awaiting their disembarkation was station liaison Xander Malatesta, a member from both the Science Ministry and Security, the usual station of persons responsible for the identing of new arrivals, and a large yet graceful cat-like creature dressed in classically exotic attire waiting on just the other side of the checkpoint out of the ebb and flow of the busy port.

“It’s a pleasure to welcome you aboard,” Xander says, offering his hand to whomever steps forward as leader of the group. “If I could direct your group to the checkpoint here, we can get your ident cards assigned, and help get you settled in.”

Free United States 28-04-2009 23:10
The Æsir relayed its transmissions as necessary and headed towards the station at 1/4 speed, its conventional engines flaming bluish-white in the darkness of space. It drew in, following the coordinates and course headings to the letter as it approached, finally docking with the station on it's starboard port.

Assembled at the airlock, respectively, was the Captain and the ship's Political Officer, Lieutenant Crussov and the ADF detachment, Doctor's Blevins and Chase and their team, and a pair of Spacy Marines. As the door opened and the station liason came forward, the boatswain's whistle blew, setting all the military officers to attention.

"The pleasure is ours," Ramius intercepted his hand, "Lieutenant Commander Moira Ramius, Captain of the Æsir," she greeted him. The heads of the various groups stepped forward,

"Good day," said the Doctors.

"Good day, sir," Lieutenant Crussov replied.

"We hope this will bring about greater relations between yourselves and the Soviet," butted in the Political Officer.

"Erm...Mr. Malatesta, this is the ship's Political Officer, Ensign Roshcenko."

The Ensign, unlike the other military officers in attendance, didn't have the hardness of the others. He had a tendency to slouch, and it was apparent his uniform wasn't as neatly pressed as the others. There was also the unmistakable polite contempt in Ramius' voice and manner towards him. Ramius directed the team to assemble for their cards.

"We'll be having crew moving equipment in, will they all need ident cards?" Ramius asked Xander.

The-Citadel 29-04-2009 06:43
The Concorders show no visible signs of displeasure at the lengthy acclimatization and registration process (but then, most of them have immobile metal masks for faces, and the Dominioners probably aren't equipped to pick up their radio-frequency emotes). Such are the hazards of doing business with filthy statists, after all, and experience has shown that you can't spread the Revolution by force of arms in a post-industrial society. Force of economics works much better, and has the added benefit of earning the CCEF a pretty penny (even if that penny is hard to convert into the system of bartering-with-IOUs the Concord uses as a de facto internal currency between Committees).

"Thank you, mister Piersanti," Liberty Adams chirps in reply. "I am sure it shall be pleasant to be here." Adams nods to the others (this purely for the benefit of the Dominioners, of course), who nod politely to their hosts and head back to the docks to begin unloading equipment.

"Yes, this will do quite nicely," Adams says, looking about the empty space. "You have our thanks."

Atlantis Exsilio 29-04-2009 22:45
"Well, so far, so good," Grogan said. "Helm, take us in."

The ship easily came in to its assigned slip on a reactionless drive, coming to a full stop just short of the ring, rotating around on its axis, and sliding sideways until its main cargo hatch came into contact with with the extended gantry. After a few seconds, the universal adaptable airlock there made a firm seal with the station's lock. For the moment no other umbilicals were hooked up - until more technical information could be exchanged, it was safer to remain on internal air, water, and power even without the security considerations. It was a pretty good showing for a helmsman who had barely started shaving.

"Excellent work, corporal," Grogan said. "Lieutenant Costanza, you're in charge -" God help them all "- while I'm gone. If anything goes wrong, get the ship out of here and call for reinforcements."

"Yes, sir!"

"Leceuthea, you ready?"

"I have been ready for some time, Captain," she replied coolly.

"Let's go, then."

It was a short walk down to the airlock. Most of the ship's small Marine contingent were waiting there, fully kitted out with armor, rifles, and, if Grogan knew Marines, enough explosives to vaporize a small city. None of them would be going aboard the station itself in that gear, of course. Grogan and Leceuthea were both equipped only with personal shields and small baton-like stunners.

"Good morning, Sergeant," Grogan said to the Marines' leader.

"Sir," Sergeant Warrington replied. "I'd just like to say again that I feel very uncomfortable that you're going aboard without an escort."

"We're peaceful explorers, Sergeant."

"That's never stopped us before, sir."

"Your concerns are noted, and if we get kidnapped, you have permission to say 'I told you so'."

The cargo hatch hissed open. A slight static filled the air immediately around it, an atmospheric containment field to keep station air and ship air separate. Grogan and Leceuthea stepped through and then past the station's own open hatch. Two of the marines followed them but stopped before entering the station proper and took up guard positions.

"Okay, Grogan, you can do this," he said to himself. The colonels chose him for a reason. Nevermind that there were only a handful of qualified people in the first place, most of whom were off flying battleships or heavy cruisers in strategically important locations.

"Are you nervous, Captain?" Leceuthea asked.

"On my second mission, my entire team was killed and I got the shit beaten out of me by Jaffa," Grogan said. "It left an impression.

"I see."

Grogan and Leceuthea reached Jovene and the other Machiavellian personnel. Grogan was in a simple gray uniform with minimal markings; Leceuthea was in an austere form-fitting beige outfit.

"Hello," Grogan said. "I'm Captain Grogan, and this is our ship's trade delagate, Leceuthea. We're very pleased to meet you."

It was simple, to the point, and (hopefully) left no room for misunderstanding.

The Kajali presence aboard Machiavelli had never been particularly, well, noticeable. As it was there were a few satellite offices, mostly belonging to Atla/Ljosa now, given the numerous buyouts and mergers that had occurred in the past few years. Of course, keeping with recent events, most of these offices were dark as headquarters had made like they'd never existed if they had been based on the Kajali home world.

That all said, a few were still open given that the larger companies were distributed in a suitably interstellar manner to prevent such things as decapitation strikes from ending them. Atla/Ljosa was one of them, and while disturbed by the event was still attempting to sell expensive product like spacecraft, promising "The finest in Martian engineering and construction" since they'd have to subcontract to some more 'local' yards to do most of their business, at least until emergency measures back home subsided.

This had attracted some interesting folk to their office. Mostly Kajali, they were of an old but well known creed.

Doomsday cultists! Or, rather, doomsayers. They had their little sandwich boards proclaiming that the end was nigh and soon, entire planets could disappear at the drop of a hat! The total comms blackout from Kajal was proof! THE RECKONING, IT IS NIGH!

They'd chosen the Kajali offices, of course, since it had to be THEIR fault. They were still trying to sell massively expensive things, spaceships, antiques, and oodles and oodles of kitsch. Even in the face of certain DISASTER! Obviously this meant that they had been decadent and godless and now Iu was punishing them.

Across the hall was another group, this one chanting about how the Iuans had been too decadent too and that only the Ljosans (and their gigantic industrial base) would be spared from the coming Kajali apocalypse.

This group had an even smaller satellite group seemingly orbiting it proclaiming - and most interestingly - that the Iuans and Ljosans were both wrong and that only His followers (His referring to a fairly young religion that liked to tell itself that it worshipped a deity that took no name for even THAT was too decadent and would lead to sin) would be 'saved', inheriting the smoldering ashes and generally being around long enough to die after everyone else.

Not the best arrangement, perhaps. Still, there were no squid from beyond reality and each group was relatively peaceful as long as they kept their distances from each other, standing around with absurd looking placards and sometimes staring into space with the glazed eyes of the shellshocked or drug addled.

Apparently these traits were fairly common in venture capitalists these days. After all, the proper capitalists were still trying to sell things even after the declared end of the world.

In Honor and Faith To The Esteemed Director of Public Relations Upon the Space Station Known Locally as Machiavelli

I represent the Ministry of Enlightenment, Information and Understanding. It is our express intention to engage upon your station temporary exhibition space to display the Radiant Art Museum's traveling collection for a space of time not exceeding four months. It is our intention by doing so to present portraits of the current leadership of the Radiant Empire for the consumption of the general public and to promote intergalactic understanding and brotherhood. The traveling collection has recently wrapped up a successful showing within. the boundaries of the Empire itself, and is now traveling to Mars to finish its cycle.

The Director has suggested that in the interests of enlightenment, we should showcase the works of art publicly, and Her Most Radiant Majesty, May the Light Bless and Keep Her, has smiled upon this. As Machiavelli Station is believed to be a well-traveled, yet peaceful and well-controlled international entity, under the jurisdiction of The Most Glorious Queen Nathicana, who we believe to be worthy of the highest respect. There is a further consideration, in that the Galleria within Darsalin Base has not been readied to receive the portraits as of yet owing to an unfortunate imbalance in the Light's Will.

We would much prefer for these portraits to be stored in an open place, where due rituals of honor to the esteemed dignitaries so displayed may be performed and the valuable treasures that are being carried with the paintings may be watched by greater eyes than merely the men of shipyard patrols.

While it is our understanding that Machiavelli is a trade station, and not a galleria or symposium, we must admit that it would dishonor the empress for us to charge to see her portrait, and while we will ask for donations, it is not our intention to turn a profit. Therefore, we shall pay for any costs incurred by the station for either displaying or protecting the exhibit, as well as a sizable gratuity to your staff for the extra work we are asking of them.

It is our hope that you will agree to this decision.

With Obedience to Duly Authorized Forms of Conduct and Filial Piety,

Deputy UnderMinister of Enlightenment,

Kouhyl

FUS

“A pleasure,” Xander replied to the flurry of introductions, nodding and shaking what hands required shaking. “I’m certain that I can introduce Ensign Roschcenko to those who would best be able to further along that hope.”

He of course made no mention of nor hinted at the fact that said Ensign did not seem as up to snuff as the rest of the crew – that of course, would be impolite. And as he was representing the Dominion as host, impoliteness simply wouldn’t do.

“Sir,” he continued, turning to Ramius. “Anyone spending time aboard Machiavelli is required to carry an ident card – but I assure you, it is a simple, painless, and quick procedure, especially in the case of temporary idents. If you will step this way?”

Here he motioned again to the checkpoint, and the group waiting near or around it. In the course of things, he quickly explained the simplicity of registration. Names and origins are registered, then any and all weapons are declared, as well as special abilities such as cyber augments, psionic talents and the like. A quick photo is taken, a thumbprint is scanned and recorded, and a little plastic identification card is printed out lickety-split to be picked up on the other side of the counter. Very much in and out sort of thing, save for the odd special cases that require more attention.






ooc: I swear, I will get these all answered asap!

The Citadel

“We’re pleased that you find it to your liking,” Marko replies with a perfunctory bow and close-lipped smile, the latter having seeped into much of the further-reaching culture of the Dominion, thanks to its allies.

“Should you require anything of us, please do not hesitate to ask. We hope this will prove to be a beneficial venture for you.”

And if nothing further is required at the moment, Marko and any others presently not needed take their leave.

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

Atlantis Exsilio

Ms. Jovene offered the newcomers a welcoming smile and polite bow, extending her hand in greeting. She was dressed in a simple black, red, and grey uniform, as were the rest of the official station staff.

“Welcome aboard, Captain, ma’am,” she replied. “Liaison Angelise Jovene, at your service. If you will step this way, we can get your ident cards taken care of, then discuss what we can do to accommodate you and your ship during your time on Machiavelli. Am I correct in understanding you may be in need of a place to stay, and possibly,” this last delivered with a look to Leceuthea, “arrangements with the Trade Ministry?”

Kajal

Protestors had never been looked upon terribly kindly in the Dominion, yet onboard a space station which had become an international hub of activity, standard views and practices had to be occasionally rethought.

The Soldati security forces kept a closer eye on the groups than others, and in the meantime, made sure their efforts remained peaceable, and for the most part, did not interfere with the rest of the station’s inhabitants and visitors.

Those in charge of the Kajali offices were contacted, and their preferences for handling the protesters were requested. After all, if removal was preferred … it could be managed.

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

Roania

“Queen, is it? I wonder how that’d go over with her Dread Ladyship,” quipped the officer looking over the latest missive.

“I hear it’d depend on her mood,” came the reply from his co-worker, and current boss as she walked over to read as well. “So they would like us to display their art exhibit, hmm? And they’re willing to pay?”

“And from all reports, the Roanians are loaded.”

“So I’m told, so I’m told,” the woman murmured thoughtfully, calling up a simplified floor plan for the upper cap of the station. “We could adjust the displays in the main rotunda. Between the view ports, the high class traffic, the ambiance and décor … I believe that would fit the bill for what they’re requesting.”

“And given the high class traffic, the location, etcetera, you can also charge them appropriately for our trouble,” the young man responded, already typing up the orders to begin making the proper arrangements.

“Quite. Thank you, Signore Zucco. If you will just finish those up, I’ll get to responding to our newest art exhibitors.”

To the Honorable Deputy UnderMinister of Enlightenment, Kouhyl,

We are duly flattered that your great nation and esteemed Empress would consider our station to host such a prestigious exhibition.

Our thought is to host the exhibition in our main rotunda, well away from all the landing docks, and where our elite spaces are rented, and the all-around viewports are located. The view is incredible, the décor is impeccable, and our highest class visitors are invited to linger for entertainment on this level of the station.

With permission, our proposal is to set up the exhibit throughout the rotunda in areas most suitable to highlight the pieces, and in the process, make them viewable to the greatest amount of visitors in the appropriate setting.

Please find attached a basic layout of the rotunda and highlights of the local restaurants and entertainment areas for your perusal, as well as our proposals for adequate gratuities and services rendered appropriate to your needs. We look forward to hearing back from you at your earliest convenience.

With Respect,

-- Celina Bonamici

Dread Lady Nathicana wrote:Very much in and out sort of thing, save for the odd special cases that require more attention.

"Odd special cases" must truly be a relative term, considering what's waiting for them at the end of the paperwork, that being the "large yet graceful cat-like creature dressed in classically exotic attire" mentioned earlier.

Maybe she blended in earlier, somehow, but now her nearly three meter tall frame is very much larger than life as she confidently strides a dancer's glide into the foreground with a susurrus of silken cloth and a jingle of a thousand little baubles tinkling against each other. She wears long, flowing wheat-yellow robes that hang comfortably loose against her body, starting diaphanous around her sandaled digitigrade feet and becoming opaque through multiple layers around her thighs, perhaps a few scant centimeters of being scandalous... but with that being said, the sides of her robes are slit risquély high if flashes of bright orange fur with jet black stripes are any indication. Each layer is trimmed with bright Oriental interlacings of gold, silver, and electrum, the last being spun down into spiral holders for multicolored teardrops of crystalline glass that tinkle together as she moves. The robes work up underneath a bodice made of the same interlacing precious metals, which terminate abruptly at the soutien-gorge--backed in glossy black leather, creating a striking contrast--that supports her breasts, athletic in proportion to the rest of her but, given her sheer size, perhaps equally surprisingly large. The rest of her chest is bare, so far as a glossy coat of fire-orange and coal-black fur is bare, save from the orchid-colored shawl she wears over her shoulders and wrapped around her forearms--apparently held in place by leather-backed bands of metallic lace that follow the same Eastern patterns as the trim of her skirts--and the gleaming gold discs of an elaborate necklace with silver detailing. All this is centered around a black leather collar, decorated with electrum filigree, that she wears at base of her neck.

Her face, definitively feline with a white-furred mask about her muzzle, exudes professional confidence as she approaches the group of newcomers, skirts swaying side-to-side with the slightly suggestive motion of her hips answered in counterbalance by the tufted orange tip of her otherwise naked tail. As she bows, she offers a better look at her mane, dyed a glossy obsidian black that fracts blues and purples along the edges, which sits tied back underneath a metal lacework tiara with Thai influences that, despite its vague sense of wings (or horns?), remains airy in construction. Her whole costume rings softly with the sound of glass chimes as she begins to speak in a deep yet feminine voice, oddly sonorous despite the slight hint of gravel that is the result of the structure of her larynx and palate.

"And again, welcome to Machiavelli Station," she says, producing a small silver case from a cunningly hidden slot in one of her leather and wirework bracelets, "on behalf of the many and varied professionals that call this place home. You will certainly find many things here to keep you occupied, but one constant of any sort of travel is that it can get dull and perhaps lonely after a while." Her yellow tyger's eyes take on a mischievous glint at that as she opens the case, deftly removing the contents one at a time with a dealer's fingers and handing them, one to a visitor, with a mix of respectful politeness and confident assertion. "I personally represent a trade association of professionals, craftworkers, and artists who would most certainly ensure that your stay aboard Machiavelli will be a pleasant one, should you decide to offer them your custom."

Objects distributed, she steps back with a confident if thin--her physiology allows no other--smile on her thin black lips, pink membranous ears like bat-wings winking in her species' analog to the expression on her face.

The objects are business cards.

The business cards introduce her as:

Mme. TSKRA-PRRET

Founder and President, COURTESAN #1
Central Organized Union of Registered Tradespeople
in Erotic Specialties and Associated Networks

Ms. Jovene offered the newcomers a welcoming smile and polite bow, extending her hand in greeting. She was dressed in a simple black, red, and grey uniform, as were the rest of the official station staff.

“Welcome aboard, Captain, ma’am,” she replied. “Liaison Angelise Jovene, at your service. If you will step this way, we can get your ident cards taken care of, then discuss what we can do to accommodate you and your ship during your time on Machiavelli. Am I correct in understanding you may be in need of a place to stay, and possibly,” this last delivered with a look to Leceuthea, “arrangements with the Trade Ministry?”

"For the moment we'll be staying on our ship," Grogran replied as they followed Jovene to get ident cards, "although I imagine in the long run we will be wanting to arrange long-term accommodations. I'd also like to allow my crew shore leave, once some of the financial details have been worked out. "

"As for trade arrangements, yes," Leceuthea continued. "One of our goals is to evaluate local markets and if possible establish some sort of presence in this system, and Machiavelli comes highly recommended as a possible location."

The Machiavelli station was being monitored, not for any sinister purpose or design but as a careful accountant might pour over the books of a business. An opportunity had been seen and discussed. A decision was made at the very top level of the corporate hierarchy, and that decision was just about to be put into place. A single message was all that was needed for work to start.

Martian Regional Depot wrote:Greetings, I am my name is Franksten, Regional Manager for The Garbage Men Martian Regional Depot.

As previously discussed in regards to the Machiavelli Station we are to open up a sub-Depot within the station, to operate under the auspices of the Martian Regional Depot. As such we have deployed an Assessment Team. The sub-depot is not only act as a branch office to provide various services for the stations clientele but as a store front for our collection of quality 2nd hand goods, refurbished or restored as necessary.

Also as a part of the previously mentioned discussion a contract about providing general waste facilities to the station as well as cleaning and similiar saniation requirements for all personnel on the station whether visitors, crew or professionals.

After the Assessment team has arrived and done a detailed appraisal of the station needs, and engineering team will be dispatched to construct all appropriate facilities, and areas for customer contact in areas appropriate designated areas.

Thank you.

Meanwhile the TGMS Assessment 1636, containing the Assessment team was on it's way to the Machiavelli Station, following protocols and identifying itself as appropriate. It was coming in to dock.

Dread Lady Nathicana wrote:FUS

“A pleasure,” Xander replied to the flurry of introductions, nodding and shaking what hands required shaking. “I’m certain that I can introduce Ensign Roschcenko to those who would best be able to further along that hope.”

He of course made no mention of nor hinted at the fact that said Ensign did not seem as up to snuff as the rest of the crew – that of course, would be impolite. And as he was representing the Dominion as host, impoliteness simply wouldn’t do.

“Sir,” he continued, turning to Ramius. “Anyone spending time aboard Machiavelli is required to carry an ident card – but I assure you, it is a simple, painless, and quick procedure, especially in the case of temporary idents. If you will step this way?”

Here he motioned again to the checkpoint, and the group waiting near or around it. In the course of things, he quickly explained the simplicity of registration. Names and origins are registered, then any and all weapons are declared, as well as special abilities such as cyber augments, psionic talents and the like. A quick photo is taken, a thumbprint is scanned and recorded, and a little plastic identification card is printed out lickety-split to be picked up on the other side of the counter. Very much in and out sort of thing, save for the odd special cases that require more attention.






ooc: I swear, I will get these all answered asap!

ooc: scolo, is that 'proposition' towards me?

ic:
For 'names and origins' all would place their names-the officers placing their rank ahead of their name. And all would write their origin as the Commonwealth of Free United States. The Marines were only to guard the ship itself, so no weapons were taken aboard, save for a locker containing pistols that was for emergencies only. The doctors and other researchers all listed their talents, doctorates and such.