The Interstellar Cartographers (FT, Invite Only)

[Whovian Tardisia]

Hello and welcome to The Interstellar Cartographers storyline! The basic premise is this: three Whovian cartographers have been sent up in a TARDIS with some basic defenses and a fully functioning chameleon circuit (cloaking device that can make the ship appear as other things). The cartographers have been tasked with mapping various star systems. I have invited certain nations to participate, however, if you wish to become involved, please shoot me a telegram. A couple of things to note:

Don’t post without permission. Please don’t post to this thread if you have not been invited or accepted in via TG. Even if you have been, please wait for a dialogue to finish and the crew to move on before organizing an encounter, again via TG.
WA nations should follow WA regulations. Non-WA nations can do whatever they want, within reason.


With that, let us begin:


The TARDIS hummed as it materialized in orbit of Mithrandir. Anna, the second mate, watched from the console monitor as the planet slowly shrank as the box drifted away from it. “Farewell, Mithrandir. May the Doctor think kindly of you always.” She said, covering with two fingers the St. John Ambulance pin affixed to her lapel. She turned to her crewmates, wondering how long it would be until she set foot on her home planet again. “So where are we to go first? The Skaro system? The eye of Orion?” she asks. Amy, the captain, replies. “We already have plenty of documentation of those systems. We’re looking for the unknown. The places we have never seen before. Places the Doctor himself may not have been.” She smiles, bringing up the list of destinations to map. “Empires spanning multiple star systems, individual planets, small portions of others… this will be interesting.” First mate Jack swivels in his chair and eyes the list. “So, every star that ever was and all that. Where do we want to start?” Anna scrolls through the long list. “Shall we pick one at random? It’ll be more fun that way.” She suggests. “Are you game for random, Jack?” asks Amy. “Any day, Captain.” Answers Jack. “Right.” says Amy. “On the stabilizers, you two.” After various button and lever manipulations and a quick program running on the ship computer, Amy releases the quantum handbrake with a flourish. The ship rocks a bit, but almost immediately finds a vortex and jumps through, incredibly smoothly despite only having a half a crew. But as soon as the ship exits the vortex, it shudders, as if hitting a pool of molasses, before dematerializing, seemingly on its own. Frantically pushing buttons, Amy scurries around the console, trying to regain control, to no avail. The ship finally materializes again, in a slightly different area of space. “What the hell was that?” asks Jack, stumbling back to the console. “Warped space.” Replied Amy. “It’s rather unusual, definitely artificial. I’ve only ever heard of one thing like it.” The ship communications begin to crackle as they open to an outside source…

[Tinfect]

Imperium of Tinfect - Interior Territories - Shield VI

The system was as so many others that the Imperium held, Not the desolate and devastated worlds of the Exterior Territories, nor the sprawling cities of stone and metal of the Interior, but a system of death; empty worlds orbited a ancient star, countless constructs of blackened metal scattered throughout the system. But the desolate system was not without life, a small cluster of ships, each one bearing the silver markings of the Second Fleet of the Imperium. A scene that had remained near constant, since the moment the Imperium locked itself away. However, the peace would not remain, the distorted starfield that marked the barrier shifted as though a thousand great lights burned within, forcing their way into the system. Though no one had borne witness to its arrival, it had not gone unnoticed.

"Centurion!" Started the Decurion tasked with monitoring the sensors, "Unidentified Vessel has entered the system!" The Centurion was actually surprised; if the Archive was correct, the last time anything came through here, was 30 years ago, and it had been identified instantly. "So this would be first contact then?" She said with a sigh, before continuing, "Let's see if they'll take Hyperpulse. Start the recording, Decurion, broadcast immediately at close." As the Communications officer keyed in the codes, she got up from her command position, and promptly turned back towards the Communications officer, "And run it through the World Assembly index, hopefully their language is in there somewhere." A few moments later, and a quick nod from the Communications officer, and the recording had begun.

"Unidentified Vessel, this this TNS - Infernal Watcher, under Centurion Latis Holter, of the Imperium of Tinfect. You are in violation of the Imperial Interior Territories, and are hereby ordered, with the authority of the Imperial Second Fleet, to identify yourself, your purpose within the Imperial Territories, and any organizations you represent. Further, you are ordered to maintain your current position, to make no attempt to contact any other vessel save this one, and to take no hostile action against Imperial Forces within this system. Failure to comply will be considered an act of war against the Imperium, and your vessel will be destroyed. You have two minutes from the transmission of this message to respond."

And with that, the message was complete. One could only hope it would be received, and be comprehensible, to whatever unfortunate people had stumbled into the Imperium.

[Whovian Tardisia]

"Unidentified Vessel, this this TNS – Infernal Watcher, under Centurion Latis Holter, of the Imperium of Tinfect. You are in violation of the Imperial Interior Territories, and are hereby ordered, with the authority of the Imperial Second Fleet, to identify yourself, your purpose within the Imperial Territories, and any organizations you represent. Further, you are ordered to maintain your current position, to make no attempt to contact any other vessel save this one, and to take no hostile action against Imperial Forces within this system. Failure to comply will be considered an act of war against the Imperium, and your vessel will be destroyed. You have two minutes from the transmission of this message to respond."

“Jack, get the handbrake, would you?” said Amy. “I have a feeling we might be here for a while.” Pushing a button on the console, she began to speak. “Greetings, Centurion!” she began, with great gusto. “This is Captain Amy Wilson of the WTC – Atlas speaking. We didn’t really intend to come here. Well, we did, eventually, but at this point it was a matter of chance… At any rate, we’re here now, and our purpose is to make a map of said Imperial Interior Territories. We are from the nation of Whovian Tardisia, representing its Space Brigade and government.” Scrolling down to Tinfect on the destination list, she adds: “I’ve noticed your nation is a WA member, your government may know of ours. Is there anything else?” Pushing the same button, the replying transmission ends. “I hope that’s all.” said Anna, sounding rather worried. “I don’t like his tone. Are you sure this was a good idea, not knowing where we’d wind up?” She clutched her pin, running her fingers along the letters. “Relax. They’ll only blow us up if we do something stupid.” replied Jack. “And Amy doesn’t do stupid things, most of the time.” Amy glanced at him. “I’m not the one who spray painted circular Gallifreyan expletives on a football pitch.” she replied with a smirk. “Hey! You can’t blame me for that!” Jack retorted. “Someone just chucked me a can! Not to mention how drunk I was.” Amy just sighed and returned to her chair, awaiting a response.

[Tinfect]

“Greetings, Centurion!”

Started the unknown's presumed leadership, with far too much enthusiasm than any sane person should have given the situation,
"Stop!" Shouted the Centurion, eliciting a start from much the the bridge crew, save the Communications Decurion, who retained the presence of mind to stop the playback. "Turn the thing down, then restart."

“This is Captain Amy Wilson of the WTC – Atlas speaking. We didn’t really intend to come here. Well, we did, eventually, but at this point it was a matter of chance… At any rate, we’re here now, and our purpose is to make a map of said Imperial Interior Territories. We are from the nation of Whovian Tardisia, representing its Space Brigade and government.” Scrolling down to Tinfect on the destination list, she adds: “I’ve noticed your nation is a WA member, your government may know of ours. Is there anything else?”

"Decurion," Started Latis, "Check the Archive for Whovian Tardisia, under Diplomatic records." The order was taken silently, and the Archive responded with its expected immediacy, "Diplomatic Oversight has them marked under 'No Formal Contact', but it checks out, we even have their language indexed." says the Communication's Decurion, putting several example phrases on the display for effect,

"What the hell kind of language writes in circles." Comments the Centurion, to which the Sensors Decurion immediately responds, "Well, it's no more bizarre than early forms of Marrov, Centurion-" Whatever else he had intended to say was sharply cut off by the Centurion, "If I wanted a lecture on linguistic Origins, I would go to the Balder Academies. In any case, the Union had good reason for the Unification, early Marrov was an incomprehensible mess." With the Decurion silence while he weighed the merits of challenging a superior officer on the grounds that she had insulted the pre-unification language, she returned to the task at hand, "Inform Diplomatic Oversight, I'm not willing to chance that they wouldn't consider this a first contact. And prepare for a reply, we don't need them trying to run off or something." In the spare moments while the Hyperpulse Generator was busy with Diplomatic Oversight, she entered the override for the Volume controls and set them down to something more reasonable, before starting the recording.

"Atlas, due to the nature of this contact, Procedure regarding foreign vessels is temporarily suspended. As such, we recommend that you maintain your current position and await the arrival of appropriate diplomatic personnel for the situation at hand. Be aware that any hostile action on the part of your vessel will continue to be considered an act of war against the Imperium, and that any such action will now be considered the responsibility of your Government.
...
And, simply for verification purposes, 'Space Brigade' seems to be a military term. Does your government often utilize Military Vessels in exploratory missions, or am I mistaken on the meaning?"

---

Imperium of Tinfect - Interior Territories - Balder Orbit - TDV - Tower of Eyes

The Communications board let loose a nearly inaudible beep, grabbing the attention of the Decurion at its seat, a quick skim through the message's contents later, he forwarded the message to the Ambassadorial Quarters, where an agent of Diplomatic Oversight spent another day wondering why the hell Markhov hired so many people if they weren't going to do anything.

When the message came through, Imperial Ambassador Velse Irantel immediately placed her drink on the desk, made her way to the bridge, and gave an actually important order to the ship's Navigator, "Decurion, prepare for Subspace, Shield Six, it seems we finally have work to do."

And so it was done.

[Whovian Tardisia]

"Atlas, due to the nature of this contact, Procedure regarding foreign vessels is temporarily suspended. As such, we recommend that you maintain your current position and await the arrival of appropriate diplomatic personnel for the situation at hand. Be aware that any hostile action on the part of your vessel will continue to be considered an act of war against the Imperium, and that any such action will now be considered the responsibility of your Government.
...
And, simply for verification purposes, 'Space Brigade' seems to be a military term. Does your government often utilize Military Vessels in exploratory missions, or am I mistaken on the meaning?"

The comms crackle again as the new message is received. “Diplomats.” said Amy. She brought up the standard procedures page on one of the ship’s monitors, scanning before finding the relevant section. After a moment of reading, she turned to Anna. “Anna, ready the chameleon circuit override. We’re going into box form, but don’t change it until I give the command.” “Affirmative.” replied Anna, locating the appropriate controls. Amy pressed the comms button again and began to speak:

“Hello again, Infernal Watcher. The Space brigade does serve military purpose, and this vessel is armed. However, both the Brigade and this vessel’s weapons are for defensive purposes only. Now, seeing as you’re sending diplomats, according to our standard procedures, our vessel is going to change in appearance. You have likely not established a visual, as we are currently in our ‘disguise’ mode.” Amy brought up the chameleon circuit info screen. “WTC- Atlas appears to be a random piece of space junk at the moment. It will morph into a telephone booth marked ‘Police’ in a moment.”

The transmission ended with another push of the comms button. “I hope we don’t scare any crew members that happen to be looking out the window. You’re clear to switch to box, Anna.” Amy ordered. “On it.” answered Anna. Tapping “select” on a touch screen, the ship’s exterior slowly changed to that of a Police Public Call Box from 1960’s era Earth. The light on top flashes, glinting off the metal scraps floating around it.

[Tinfect]

"Hello again, Infernal Watcher. The Space brigade does serve military purpose, and this vessel is armed. However, both the Brigade and this vessel’s weapons are for defensive purposes only. Now, seeing as you’re sending diplomats, according to our standard procedures, our vessel is going to change in appearance. You have likely not established a visual, as we are currently in our ‘disguise’ mode.” Amy brought up the chameleon circuit info screen. “WTC- Atlas appears to be a random piece of space junk at the moment. It will morph into a telephone booth marked ‘Police’ in a moment.”

"Telephone booth?" Started the Centurion, before being immediately interrupted by the Sensors Decurion once more, "They were sort of closet-looking things that used to be used for communication before-" He stopped himself this time, perhaps noticing the death-glare from the Centurion. "Next time you do that, I'm going to Intelligence and seeing if annoying a superior officer counts as treason." The threat was hollow, of course, no Imperial officer would go to Intelligence for something so petty. She'd have to dress it up as 'Gross Incompetence' first. "Now, Decurion, do we have them on Optics?" The Decurion responded immediately, "Nothing since they came in, previous assumptions were that they had archailect-grade stealth, but given recent information, they're probably in the Debris Field."

He was proven correct a few moments later, when optical sensors, as Imperial Ships lack such structural weaknesses as windows, confirmed the sudden appearance of a box marked in that horrific alien scrawling called 'Inglesh'. "And... there it is, Centurion." Says the Decurion, as he throws the readout on the primary viewscreen. Said viewscreen was promptly filled with sudden and nausea inducing appearance of spatial compression and expansion in already nauseatingly altered space, and the following crackling blue vortex that served as the primary indicator of a Subspace Jump. With that, the Decurion opted to briefly turn off the Screen, and spare the Bridge Crew from a front-row seat to whatever was coming out of the Gate, restarting it only when he was certain the moment had passed.

Now, rather than a debris field and a box, the screen displayed a debris field and a box, with a small, but grandiosely decorated vessel in the background. "Clearly, Diplomatic Oversight is in need of proper vessels." States the Centurion, an observation quite obvious to anyone capable of differentiating between a state-of-the-art Eternity III Warship, and the aged Arcadia refit before them now. "Send them the specifics of the Atlas, they can find it themselves."

----

With the Jump completed, the Communications board lit up once more, prompting the Decurion to sift through the information for a moment, before sending it off to the Sensors Decurion, who promptly sent it back with coordinates for hyperpulse transmission, and a somewhat xenophobic comment regarding aliens and their languages, that he quickly omitted from the record, all before the Diplomat realized the jump was complete. "Ambassador, we've arrived." Commented the Centurion, snapping the diplomat to attention. "Ah, good. Prepare the Hyperpulse Generator for transmission, and start recording." The Centurion gestured towards the Diplomat, confirming the Orders, and the Decurion opted to place information regarding the Vessel on the Viewscreen before complying

"Atlas, this is Velse Irantel, Ambassador of the Imperium, and appointed diplomat for this situation. It has come to the attention of the Imperium that you have certain requests, please repeat them for consideration."

The transmission was brief, but hopefully effective. "Was that actually the Atlas?" commented Velse, prompting a response from the Centurion, "According to the Infernal Watcher, yes. I'm as baffled as you are."

OOC:
If you're wondering what I was referring to with the nauseatingly altered space bit, you know that gravitational lensing thing black holes cause? The Subspace Barrier looks like that, everywhere, all the time.

[Whovian Tardisia]

"Atlas, this is Velse Irantel, Ambassador of the Imperium, and appointed diplomat for this situation. It has come to the attention of the Imperium that you have certain requests, please repeat them for consideration."

Amy smoothed her jacket as the message came in. “First diplomatic contact with another civilization, and another species. Are you two excited?” she asked her crewmates. “Another species? I didn’t think of it that way.” Jack answered. “Just some guys with big ships and weird guns.” He continued. “I don’t think we should think of it that way.” Anna commented. “All sapient species are equal and all life is valuable. Remember that, Captain.” She added. “Of course, as Jack said, just guys with guns. I’m not scared of guns.” Amy replied. Her hand still shook slightly, however, as she reached for the comms switch.

“This is Atlas. We are cartographers, sent by our government to map certain regions of the universe. The Imperium of Tinfect is on our list of areas to map. We simply request to travel about the Imperium, charting the locations of the different star systems and the planets they contain. Anything you do not want outsiders to know the location of will be avoided. Just tell us where not to go. Your government will be free to review the finished map, and we will happily sell you the rights to copy it, should you desire to do so. What will be required in order to accomplish this?”

The switch was pressed and the transmission ended. “Something’s just occurred to me.” Anna said. “What if we aren’t allowed to continue? What if they kick us out? What would we tell the Foreign Minister?” Anna was shaking slightly and stroking her lapel pin, clearly nervous. “Calm down, Anna.” Amy answered, attempting to comfort, but still sounding slightly exasperated. “What shall be is not yet determined. Mr. Pink is a reasonable man. He would surely understand why Tinfect would take such action. Besides, we’re cartographers. How does a map pose a threat to a massive empire such as Tinfect?”

[Tinfect]

“This is Atlas. We are cartographers, sent by our government to map certain regions of the universe. The Imperium of Tinfect is on our list of areas to map. We simply request to travel about the Imperium, charting the locations of the different star systems and the planets they contain. Anything you do not want outsiders to know the location of will be avoided. Just tell us where not to go. Your government will be free to review the finished map, and we will happily sell you the rights to copy it, should you desire to do so. What will be required in order to accomplish this?”

Clearly, these cartographers have not been doing their reading. The Interior Territories have been closed for 70 Years, in that time, not a single ship of foreign origin has passed through them, save the Archailects, which the Imperium couldn't stop if they wanted to. She had neither the authority or influence to authorize any foreign entrance, and with the current Military Overseer, the border policy was unlikely to change. And besides that, if the information sent from the Infernal Watcher is any indication of the Atlas's capabilities, she would be lucky not to be executed by Intelligence for even considering letting them inside the Interior. She glanced over her shoulder just in case, as she began the recording of the response.

"I had hoped your request would be more... possible. We are unable to allow your vessel entry into the Interior Territories; Imperial Policy that beyond our authority dictates our actions here, I apologize. We may, however, be able to provide you with the Imperial systems records. If there is anything else you wish to inquire of, please do so, the Imperium is open to negotiation of many subjects."

As the Transmission was sent out, she returned to thought. Theirs was a simple request, in essence. Go in, look around, leave, that was it. The Imperium makes no secrets of its history, or the fate of those once called its allies. Yet the Interior has been locked away, even after every conceivable threat to the Imperium had been crushed. Nothing goes in that is not of the Imperium. This has been the case since the Exterior Territories were formed, over 70 years ago. But, surely, they had nothing to fear from one ship? Unfortunately, the Military did not agree, and they controlled the Borders.

---

OOC:
Sorry about the delay on that, I planned to get it up the other day, but I ended up carting boxes around in 100+ degree heat*, so it didn't get done.

[Whovian Tardisia]

"I had hoped your request would be more... possible. We are unable to allow your vessel entry into the Interior Territories; Imperial Policy that beyond our authority dictates our actions here, I apologize. We may, however, be able to provide you with the Imperial systems records. If there is anything else you wish to inquire of, please do so, the Imperium is open to negotiation of many subjects."

The speakers once again crackled as the disappointing response was received. “Jack, remind me to get that speaker fixed.” Amy requested. “It’s driving me insane.” She returned to the monitor, looking for their mission statement. “If we can get a map from them, we should be in the clear, if I remember correctly.” she explained. “Ah! Yes. If no map can be manufactured, a pre-made map from the target region may be accepted. They must have a map in their records somewhere.”

Comms are once again opened with the diplomatic vessel.

“Hello, this is Atlas. Seeing that we cannot make a map ourselves, would the Imperium happen to have such a map in digital form? If so, would such a file be transferrable to our vessel’s computer systems? The transfer doesn’t have to be wireless either, if that helps.”

As the reply is sent, Amy sits back in her chair. “I may have just saved us at least a few months of work, not to mention all the entry paperwork they may have slapped on us. Chin up, we might get out of here quicker than expected.” Amy explains, happily adjusting her position for as much comfort as she could achieve in the government regulated chairs.