NATION

PASSWORD

A Friendly Visit [FT IC; Beta Quadrant, MWG; Closed]

A staging-point for declarations of war and other major diplomatic events. [In character]
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Thrashia
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Founded: Aug 31, 2004
Compulsory Consumerist State

A Friendly Visit [FT IC; Beta Quadrant, MWG; Closed]

Postby Thrashia » Fri Sep 20, 2019 7:49 am

Nova Bassilos City | New Bastion System, Capital System of the Thrashian Empire| Praesidium Sector
173.05.012 of the New Galactic Era


Moff Tiaan Jerjerrod, head of the Imperial Foreign Ministry, reviewed the arrival plans for those guests that had accepted the diplomatic invitation from his office. These days, when resettlement was finally over, things worked in an proper and efficient manner. Thrashians had a devotion to efficiency no less than any convert or zealot did to their faith. Without it, if things didn't smoothly operate just so, then it grated upon the psyche like a barely perceptible stone stuck in a being's shoe. Not only that, but it was important to maintain an image. The Empire had an image to uphold and it was once which Tiaan was most proud. That fact that he might lose face before the Imperial Court due to any mishaps during such a diplomatic exchange was also a great motivator.

A Trandoshan in a sky-blue uniform with gold pins on his shoulders stepped up next to Tiaan, speaking in a series of slithering hisses and tongue clicks.

"Yes, Talossk, thank you," replied Tiaan. He took a proffered datapad from the clawed hand of his aide. It bore a list of pressing messages that had been arriving into his in-box all throughout the morning. Most made him grimace in distaste. I don't have time for all this prattling bantha crap.

Talossk hiss-clicked a question. Tiaan shook his head, a human physical expression that Talossk had become familiar with over the past two decades. After being recruited as an envoy between Imperial forces and the Trandoshan people that had agreed to flee their own home galaxy, Talossk had chosen to continue service. Tiaan found him to be a perfect aide, quick to understand the needs of the Foreign Ministry and of Tiaan Jerjerrod in particular.

"No, we won't need to meet with Moff Thestra until next month. Send his office a reply and my apologies that the meeting will be delayed. He'll understand." He damned well better, Tiaan thought. He didn't need the ire of the Chiss sector moff, but he also didn't need him interfering in Foreign Ministry business either. The fact that the Foreign Ministry was enforcing Imperial Law by keeping him from getting some foreign trade into his sector was, though perfectly abiding by the law, winning no friends.

Talossk hissed an affirmation, then click-hissed another question.

"Yes, please send him in," said Tiaan. He nodded toward the door of his office. Talossk nodded in reply and stepped out of the room.

Moments later a knock came at the door. Tiaan gave a loud "Enter," and in stepped Captain Nathan Stark, adjutant and executive officer to Fleet Admiral Chiraneau. Nathan Stark was a swarthy Human male with a trimmed beard that made him look somewhat like a villain in a holodrama. Tiaan gave a warm smile and stood to welcome his guest. Captain Stark for his part gave a salute, though perhaps not one as crisp as he might have made to a superior Fleet Officer. By his rank, as Moff, Tiaan was technically an officer in the Imperial Military on par with that of Stark's direct superior. However that was still more of an accepted tradition than anything that had been turned into an exercise of practice.

"How are you doing, Captain Stark? Thank you for coming on such short notice," Tiaan began, pleasantly. "Care for a drink?"

"Thank you, no." Captain Stark sat down in a seat before Tiaan's desk. "I received your office's message this morning. You wanted to go over the final details?"

His tone of voice and the pace at which he spoke made it clear that he thought such a conversation could have easily been handled by holotext or even by simple comm. But Tiaan was a creature of facial contact, seeking personable contact between people. It both enabled him to judge situations with better alacrity and to bring down pressure in various situations as needed. He didn't think he would require such methods in this case, but he had wanted to speak with the Home Defense Fleet. The fact that Fleet Admiral Chiraneau had sent his adjutant and not come himself was also a kind of message in and of itself.

Tiaan poured himself a glass of imported Dornalian whiskey and sat back down.

"Yes, Captain. Final details about the -- let's call it a display -- of the Home Defense Fleet. I wanted to know if the final details for that had been finished. I've not received an updated report from your commander's office in over two days." Tiaan spoke evenly and punctuated his words with clipped enunciation. The old Coruscanti dialect of Basic that had once been prevalent throughout the upper echelons of Thrashian society had been mellowed over the past few decades. With the transition of galaxies and the dispersion of the Empire across new frontiers, there was no longer a single focal point of high society and culture. It was rather diffused throughout the Empire, though the gilded aristocrats of New Kuat would likely shout and howl that they were the font of all such things.

Captain Stark seemed to have understood his undertone well enough, as he seemed to bite his inner cheek a bit before replying.

"Yes, sir, I understand. I was told to extend to you the Admiral's apologies for not having been able to come here in person. He himself is overseeing the final preparations--."

"You may dispense with the pleasantries, Captain," interrupted Tiaan, raising his hand in a dismissive gesture. "I need to know you and your people are on schedule."

"I assure you, Moff Jerjerrod, my men are working as fast as they can."

"Perhaps I can find new ways to motivate them," drawled Tiaan, raising his left eyebrow a few millimeters into a slight arch.

"I tell you that the display will be ready as planned," said Stark, a slight worried tone entering his voice.

"I hope that her Majesty will share your optimistic appraisal of the situation," replied Tiaan sharply. "I will be meeting her and the Moff Council this evening with my report and it would be best if I were able to give them all a favorable one. Wouldn't you agree, Captain?"

Of course he had to agree. No Imperial official, or officer of the Imperial Military, worth the brains that had gotten him into a Captaincy would refuse. Whether or not they happened to like swallowing that was something else. Tiaan noted that there were few, if any, facial tells to reveal how agitated Captain Stark might be. The man is a better politician than I might give him credit for.

"We shall double our efforts," said Captain Stark.

He rose to his feet and gave a stiff salute. Tiaan nodded in dismissal and went back to his drink. Stark turned stiffly and marched out of the room. After a few moments, Talossk stuck his head into the room and looked in with a mischievous glint in his saurian eye.

Tiaan smiled at him.

"Yes, yes -- we've got them going. Make sure the rest of the afternoon's appointments are on schedule, if you would, Talossk."

Talossk hiss-clicked an affirmative and ducked back out.


* * * * * *



The foreign dignitaries arrived three days later.

The New Bastion System was located, quite literally, in the heart of the Empire. One would have to travel several hundred light-years from the edge of the empire to reach it's heart. Arrival was not as simple as it could be. The entire system was covered in a FTL-inhibitor system that was as much esoteric in design as it was powerful, capable of denying any ship with nearly any type of FTL-engine, slip-space, portal, or arcane method of entry from reaching the inner system. As such any ships arriving would be summarily halted, unwillingly, ten AU out from the system's nominal edge.

There were no longer any comets in the New Bastion System. Over the course of several years all of those that had comprised the system's Oort Cloud had been removed, either by manufacturers looking to take advantage of cheap materials or by the Imperial Navy as it worked to build the capital system's defenses. In the wake of one galactic-wide Chaos War, the Imperial Military was taking nothing for granted with the new capital. Any ship that wished to enter deeper into the system had to do so along three routes that had been created by the Imperial Navy. For while the original Oort cloud that had surrounded the system had been removed, a new one consisting of billions upon billions of space mines had been added. Various system satellites and mines made it one of the most dangerous places to be in the galaxy as far as any sane being was concerned. Massive asteroids had been converted into armored fortresses that watched over it all, tractored into carefully arranged position so that no single part of the system was ever out of sensor sight of two or more such stations.

Along the primary route which the foreign dignitaries were brought through were numerous commercial starports and fueling stations. Civilian vessels, merchants, corporate flighters and more crowded throughout. Entertainment, along what was coming to be known as the 'Belt Way,' was famous for places like Karisto Station, where gladiatorial games were held with contestants from across the galaxy; the current runner up a fierce Aumanii fighter who was looking to unseat the current champion, a Wookie.

Passing through this zone the dignitaries were purposefully flown through a readied gauntlet of the Imperial Navy. Thirty-six Imperial-class Star Destroyers in clusters of formations with hundreds of smaller escort vessels passed almost as if on review. Pride of place however was the Black Ark. The vessel hung over New Bastion like a carrion lord, prepared to guard it's clutch of eggs from any would-be predators. The Assertor-class Super Star Dreadnought was a beast to be sure, far more deadly than it's Executor-class predecessor. The light of the system's star fluttered slightly at this distance, due to the Dyson bubble that served as one of the primary energy sources. TIE Interceptors, full wings, flew out from both of the planet's moons in precise formations. A single squadron of which broke off to escort the landing shuttle of each dignitary group into the atmosphere.

The location for the summit had been specifically chosen by Moff Jerjerrod. Instead of being at Nova Bassilos itself, he'd chosen the sub-tropical city of Cahrien. The planet was not yet close to being considered a ecumenopolis, which meant that much of it's raw beauty was retained. That included the sapphire oceans of the tropical zones of the planet. Cahrien had all the luxury and marvel that the Empire could desire. Her Majesty the Empress even had a winter palace located there, which she had kindly allowed Moff Jerjerrod to use for the meeting.

The landing platform for all of the arriving guests was easily a kilometer square in size. A deep, blood-red carpet had been laid out. Pink and purple flower petals from the local wisteria plants flew about in the wind, thrown by a coterie of Thrashian youth, a mix of various species. The smiled and giggled amongst themselves, looking with curiosity at the strange arrivals. The flag or banner of each respective star state was also flying in the wind from nearby poles. To either side of the welcome mat and display were two demi-legions of polished, white-armored clone troopers at attention, their weapons held at shoulder in respectful salute to those that were arriving. A band consisting of numerous unique instruments played a background music of harmonious tones, nothing martial about it at all. Those dignitaries that arrived first were held there upon the carpet for moments until all had arrived. Servants in eye-pleasing uniforms dispersed through the crowd, dispensing glasses of ice-cold refreshments.

Eventually, a Trandoshan figure in blue robes and gold jewelry stepped forward and bowed to those assembled. He growl-hiss-clicked in his own tongue, while a silver droid next to him translated in a soft, feminine voice.

"Senior Ambassador Talossk wishes me to convey his warm welcome to all of you gracious dignitaries from the among the stars. He thanks you on behalf of her royal highness, Empress Dheinalia Vera Nuruodo, Lady-Ruler of the Thrashian Empire for accepting our invitaton. He asks that you follow him to the Winter Palace where your host, his Excellency Moff Tiaan Jerjerrod, Minister of Foreign Affairs, awaits you."

With another bow, the Trandoshan turned smoothly and led those gathered onward.

The Winter Palace, as it was known, was a large spire built into the side of a local island mountain. It overlooked the beautiful ocean and it's wide windows allowed in a cooling ocean breeze that carried upon it a clean, refreshing scents of ocean salt and sweet plant-life. The inner halls of the palace were beautiful and a wonderful display of some of the best of Thrashia's architectural style. Servants stood at intervals, prepared to help and assist where needed. Droids of various types wandered about on numerous errands. Guards in more stylized armor than those of the austere clone troopers that had been at the landing field were also present, their helms hiding their faces and unmoving as statues. A great feast hall opened before them and numerous tables had been set out with an abundance of fine delicacies from across the quadrant and galaxy at large. Waiting for them in his formal robes was Moff Tian Jerjerrod.

"Greetings, kindly gentlemen and ladies," he said, bowing his head. "I welcome you to New Bastion, the capital of our Empire. You must all be somewhat tired and weary from your journeys. I ask that you please partake of our food and drink, with the assurance that you have been welcomed with open arms. Take your time and mingle as you see fit. Our talks will be taking place tomorrow at midday. Until then, please enjoy the various entertainments that we have planned for you and indulge the selfish requests we, as host, ask you to endure -- though we will not mind if you say no to one vintage of wine over another!"

Tiaan Jerjerrod smiled and bowed again to polite applause that came from the gathered dignitaries. He raised a glass of red-tinged champagne.

"Cheers!"
Last edited by Thrashia on Mon Sep 23, 2019 9:59 am, edited 1 time in total.
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"D-Damn you all...! All of you dogs whose souls are still bound to the Earth! Long live Neo Zeon!" - MSG: Unicorn

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Thrashia
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Compulsory Consumerist State

Postby Thrashia » Sun Sep 22, 2019 4:12 pm

Imperial Winter Palace | Cahrien | New Bastion


The opening festivities for the summit were manifold. Musical quartet of stringed verkrin lyres, a combination of string and woodwind instruments, played to the accompaniment of a Zeltron female who dazzled on stage. Dance performances, ritualized Echani martial art displays, and the latest podracing sector cup finals. The gathered attendees were free to shift and flock to wherever they wished and converse as they liked. Tiaan Jerjerrod himself spent the start of the evening discussing recent galactic events with the Aumani delegate, then proceeded to shift through the attendees. Speaking with them one on one was a key decision, enabling him to have a small word in "private" and be seen doing so. The further the evening drew on, the more Tiaan smiled. He always thrived on such occasions, enjoying the word-play when it was necessary and ultimately keen to meet new and old faces.

Various Thrashian business magnates, Imperial courtiers, and military officers joined in throughout too. Governor-Duke Dorn van Kuat, the owner of Kuat Drive Yards and ruler of the world of New Kuat, was present with his son, Jean. Both were avid in their desire to seek new business opportunities. At the moment the Kuati businessman had cornered the ambassador from the Peninsularians and speaking fervently. Likely about the opportunity to provide them with a new, more modern, star navy....if the Moff Council agreed to let them. Due to his place as the head of a chief ministry, Tiaan sat upon the Moff Council and was therefore privy to it's inner workings. He didn't seriously see them denying KDY the chance to make more money. That just means that there'd be more taxes for the Imperial Treasury.

The view from the portico on the city-side of the Winter Palace was alive with sights and sounds of a thriving city. There was a significant Dornalian expat community in Cahrien, which showed in the landscape. Tiaan paused for a moment, wondering again if he shouldn't have invited the Dornalian ambassador down from Nova Bassilos to join this particular summit...but it was too late now. This was to be a more unilateral affair for the Empire as it was anyway.
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"D-Damn you all...! All of you dogs whose souls are still bound to the Earth! Long live Neo Zeon!" - MSG: Unicorn

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Auman
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Father Knows Best State

Postby Auman » Mon Sep 23, 2019 1:04 pm

'Tiaan Jerjerrod, Tiaan Jerjerrod, Tiaan Jerjerrod...'

Fleet General Miller Tyz'Juan repeated in his head, doing his level best to internalize that tongue twister, while moving towards a snack table.

Yes, Tyz'Juan was a man born of luxury to cultured family in the Zhamssassar Republics, but by this point he had been so far removed from it that only the barest hint of muscle memory remained. A lady walks by, she makes eye contact, do not chew her out... She does not salute, she curtsies and you dip your head and flourish the hand. He had done this several times already, the ladies titter and gossip with their lady companions, no doubt discussing the rogue brutishness of Aumanii high culture. The brooding nature of this man's gait is not to be blamed upon his upbringing, but by decades spent aboard warships on the float and the loss of decorum suffered in a military environment... At least, the change in expectations.

He graciously dappled his plate with cheeses, sausages and pickled alien vegetables and sauntered towards the portico, his artificial intelligence babbling in his ear, reminding him of various bits of need to know information about the Thrashian Empire and their total transition to his galaxy. Ironic that they come to the Milky Way just as he was sending men to Skyriver. Tammuz sector was often overlooked, but never forgotten. In fact, Miller Tyz'Juan forgot very little, though he needed to be reminded from time to time... And so he was, as he gazed upon the emerald green tidewater of the ocean beyond the Winter Castle, celebratory shots of gunfire, ever present from the Dornalian quarter, so it seemed, could just be heard faintly. He was reminded of his time on a world known as Sendak, when he was merely a flight lieutenant in the air arm of the Fleet, shot down by pirates and left to drown in the churlish waves that crashed down upon him, pulling his parachute down into the surf while he struggled to cut himself free. He detested the ocean, but couldn't deny its beauty, especially from afar... And most especially from orbit.

A long rattling string of shots caught his attention and Miller's eyes darted down towards the skyline of the city and then upward, towards a screen showing an instant replay of a pod racer consumed by incandescent flames, cartwheeling into the final position by way of a sheer rock face.

'Now that's what I call pod racing!' he thought to himself facetiously as he pocketed a piece of cheddar in his mouth.
Last edited by Auman on Mon Sep 23, 2019 1:12 pm, edited 3 times in total.
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Lotrabme
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Founded: Sep 03, 2010
Corrupt Dictatorship

Postby Lotrabme » Mon Sep 23, 2019 6:47 pm

Illustrations of Characters Here: https://imgur.com/gallery/7x2lF3Y

A silver and purple Star Yacht corvette designated the Purple Mist left the confines of the Cylindrical merchant ship which had just parked on the outskirts of the New Bastion system, wherever was seen appropriate by the local port authority. The Juniper’s Joy C-1 Hulk Galleon and its mobile city of Imperial salesmen could be left behind to attract the commerce of the Thrashian home system. The Purple Mist carried the Empire’s political cargo to the city of Cahrien.

On board the yacht travelled a host of Lotrabmeit officials interested in witnessing the culture of the Thrashian’s and mixing in a more relaxed social setting. The unofficial leader of this collective was the Nuncio appointed as diplomat to the Empire of Thrashia, Stivanius Tasso. Van Tasso was a middle-aged Haman who served the ministry faithfully for three decades before being awarded what was generally believed to be a prestigious diplomatic post. He was here to prove that reputation right. His compatriots were members of special interests in the Empire, most notably the College of High Clerics, the Chamber of Commerce, and the Admiralty.

Representing the first was the abundant personality of Loanda Trixabella of Edom. She was a notorious courtesan and a psychic adept. She had earned the rank of Grand Master almost a century ago and had served on the College of High Clerics since her mother Helena Trixabella stepped down. This was no easy feat, but she prided herself on her personal charm over all else. Adorned in fine red robes and accompanied by her ladies in waiting, adept psykers Irene and Yerianne, she intended to make a bold impression upon the locals. Especially the force users from whom she perceived she might gain some knowledge that might come in handy to the Mind Empire.

The Chamber of Commerce had their interests represented by Queen Ardashara of Hive Alryl. She had been to the Empire before, accompanying the Prince-Admiral when they attended the Empress’s coronation. Now she could more directly influence the prosperity of her hives, since she could mingle with the industrial interests of the Thrashians. She brought her daughter Arelleena and her friend Thessina, each growing into Hive Queen’s themselves, to show them the ropes of diplomacy. They each had their familiars and Barons around them.

For the Admiralty’s concerns, they had several agents. The first was Lucas Andronikos, a Vice Admiral and the Commissioner-Superintendent of the 4th and 5th Imperial Orders. These orders were responsible for the defense of the merchant fleets and for long range exploration and colonial ventures. Vice Admiral Andronikos was here in part to see that the Thrashian’s respected the safety of the trade routes, but also to get pointers from the Thrashians on their strategies for dealing with piracy. Meanwhile, two Malluman Weroes of clan Qornam were also here for a military and cultural mission. Jemya and Johya were the daughters and heirs of Reox Upitar Qornamee and wanted to talk to the Thrashian militants they heard so much about. They had brought with them a company of Malluman Velites lead by their cousin Areysa, and their concubines, to offer a Malluman display of martial prowess and to demonstrate the musical stylings of San and Hame.
Vice-Admiral Andronikos would keep a close eye on the Malluman party to make sure they didn’t walk into any international blunders.
Stivanius had also invited a merchant friend of his, the Ombroj Captain Teeks, who Andronikos only respected when he kept his distance. Ombroj were not always treated without prejudice in the Empire due in part to many of them not being loyal. Teeks however was from one of the loyal tribes and was, like Hive Queen Ardashara, working in the interests of Imperial Commerce. It was up to Tasso to assure the Vice Admiral that his friend would not damage Thrashian-Lotrabmeit peace.

The Purple Mist landed gracefully on the mile-wide landing platform outside of Cahrien. The passenger doors opened automatically and extended a mechanical gangplank to the floor. Down the ramp would come the party in double file and the senior Hive Queen carried by her familiars due to her weight and rank. Once assembled, the party travelled up the flower-strewn carpet among the other diplomatic parties to the ballroom where Moff Jerjerrod was hosting his get together.

Nuncio Tasso led the party, with Loanda standing next to him. Tasso wore the purple and black and white robes of a nuncio but cut a humble figure next to the flair of the Grand Mistress. Lady Trixabella wore a red and gold hat with ostentatious plumage, a cloak of scarlet cut to resemble the wings of a tropical bird, and underneath it a shimmering and form fitting ballroom gown with a waist-high leg cut. Tasso tried to not think of this woman a century his elder dressed to cut a seductive figure, but he was determined to let Lady Loanda know not to distract the Thrashian’s from the core purpose of this visit.

“Madame, we are here to make the Mind Empire look like an attractive diplomatic partner to keep. You might be taking that mission statement a bit too literally.”
“Oh Van” she smiled with a glint in her eye “everyone knows a well-dressed woman can get exactly what she wants.” Tasso could see her lady in waiting Yerianne roll her eyes silently in his peripheral vision. He grinned back at her “well Madame, do see that the Empire gets what it wants out of this. We have a lot to gain by securing something on paper here. It won’t be today, but such meetings are the first step.”

She then thought at him, while outwardly she continued to smile. “Boy… do you know how experienced I am at politics? I know you’re the Nuncio but heed me, I know what I’m doing. We will have your precious treaty, but it will come only if we approach it one step at a time.”
Tasso looked and saw the Mind Empire’s banner, black and blue and star spangled for the wide-spread colonies of the Empire. That was a good sign at least he thought. “The eye of Balazar keeps a close watch over us”. He turned to the Grand Mistress and nodded in agreement. He would trust her, even if he wasn’t sure he’d like her methods.

Behind them followed the crowd of their party, marching in a display of colors. The Hamans of course wore robes of bright and subdued rich colors at ankle-length with flowing sleeves and tall hats with gemstones and gold and silver-cloth lining glittering in New Bastion’s sun. The Nebulans wore the robes of their hives, deep reds and whites with their square runes woven into the sides, casting psychic wards to protect the hive and mark them. A force user could read auras in them. The Malluman velites wore their ceremonial armor, not up to date for modern combat but still leaving the saurian bodies mobile. They and the concubines following behind the twin Weroes all wore the tartan cloth of Qornam Clan. The Weroes themselves, Johya and Jemya, carried their ceremonial Halberds adorned with the purple, scarlet, and evergreen tricolor banner of the clan. They cut a proud figure, standing with the earned nobility of battle, and Lucas Andronikos the Vice Admiral did the same in his gleaming White and Black Naval Uniform. He wore his tall dress uniform hat and walked side by side with Captain Teeks. Teeks had his brown and silver fur blown out and quaffed and wore armbands and necklaces of gold and fine gems. His boxy frame looked squat next to the tall Vice Admiral, but they both walked with purpose, whispering to each other about the conditions of this meeting.

“Lots of Beta is here, I foresee your precious merchants will be having a high time when they hear the Superintendent gives them his full approval for trade” Teeks laughed.

Andronikos sighed “that is IF I approve. I wish to know the threat levels each of these states are under before I check them off for open mercantile efforts…”

“So do I, before I send my folks there too.” Teeks curled his trunk in an Ombroj grin.

INSIDE THE HALL

Finding their places at the tables and beginning to mingle with the other guests, the Nuncio and his companions organized themselves and tried their best to place themselves close to their host, Moff Jerjerrod. They listened quietly and respectfully to his speech, some of them beginning to nurse their first glasses of alcoholic refreshment.

"Greetings, kindly gentlemen and ladies," he said, bowing his head. "I welcome you to New Bastion, the capital of our Empire. You must all be somewhat tired and weary from your journeys. I ask that you please partake of our food and drink, with the assurance that you have been welcomed with open arms. Take your time and mingle as you see fit. Our talks will be taking place tomorrow at midday. Until then, please enjoy the various entertainments that we have planned for you and indulge the selfish requests we, as host, ask you to endure -- though we will not mind if you say no to one vintage of wine over another!"

Tiaan Jerjerrod smiled and bowed again to polite applause that came from the gathered dignitaries. He raised a glass of red-tinged champagne.

"Cheers!"


“CHEERS!” shouted the Hamans and Mallumans with their voices rich and rough, and the Nebulans clicked their mandibles in joy and wiggled their antennae in cheer. The Nuncio and the Grand Mistress sat among their party with Queen Ardashara, the Vice Admiral, and the Twin Weroes near them. The Velites mingled with the clones and guards, and Captain Teeks also mingled around while he regularly returned to Tasso to tell him what he heard or share a joke.

Eventually, after their first drink and a bit of refreshment from the light snacks, Tasso and Trixabella found a gap to approach Moff Jerjerrod to introduce themselves. They attempted to approach him at a casual pace, and while they did, Vice Admiral Andronikos made his way to some of the military command of Thrashia who attended the gathering. He had some security questions he wished to have answered.
Last edited by Lotrabme on Mon Sep 23, 2019 6:53 pm, edited 2 times in total.

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Lotrabme
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Corrupt Dictatorship

A Musical Interlude

Postby Lotrabme » Wed Sep 25, 2019 6:59 pm

Art: https://imgur.com/gallery/819i04K

As the night of international celebration continued and dornalian immigrant's gunshots of joy fired in the distance, the Malluman cohort of the Lotrabmeit delegation prepared themselves for a performance.

The Thrashian's had been enormously kind to their guests by offering a time during the event where some of the parties could display their heritage of music. The Qornamees leaped at the occasion, being one of the proudest Malluman clans of the Imperial Core Systems and being raised in the unique traditions the uplifted warriors had invented over their centuries of civilization.

Vice Admiral Lukas Andronikos watched carefully as he mingled with the select Thrashian military brass who attended this soiree. He made it explicitly clear to Johya and Jemya that what they might see as normal other cultures might see as provocative and violently unsightly. He was assured however that they would only perform the spectacles which they felt had a more universal artistic value.

Sure enough, it was Areysa, the cousin of the twin Weroes who stood before the crowd as the male musicians took their places standing on the stage, one with a musette-bagpipe and the other with a small fiddle, and two more with drums and another with smaller hand-held percussion instruments. Male Mallumans (called Ars) could be differentiated from the larger more theropod like females (Iyns) because of their more lithe frame, looking more like east-asian depictions of dragons than like dinosaurs in the face, and standing half a foot shorter than their counterparts.

Areysa said in her gruff voice a disclaimer about the following piece: "Our band will serenade you for the next hour, but following their first song which is a stage-setting piece, our young Weroes: Johya Qornamee and Jemya Qornamee will be performing what is known as the Dance of Neighbors or the Dance of Mortal Rivals. It is an interpretive dance, and I want to stress to the audience that what you are about to see will be only a act, meant to represent the place of Malluman Warriors on the field of battle and the turmoil which rages in their hearts. We ask that you remain silent during the dance, and when it is over, you may resume your talking to the sounds of our fiddles and drums. Thank you."

With the end of her speech and a short reverence, Areysa bid the Ars start playing. Their first piece was as she said a setting for the upcoming piece. It was meant to reflect, and the words described, the rising of the sun and the ride on Hadrosaurian mounts out on to the highveld of San, the Malluman's homeworld.
Oske Cherde by Huun-Huur Tu: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eiNtFzxWDHA


When it was completed, the fiddler and the piper changed their tune. What was once cheerful became a now eerie sound. From the sides of whatever area they were using as a stage came the twins from either side. Johya from the left stage, wearing a teal thigh-length dress with white flower designs. Jemya approached from right stage wearing a yellow dress of the same length with red squares in an art-deco overlay. Both duel-wielded landsknecht style Zweihanders in one hand each, being to them like middling length blades.

The music picked up as they each laid their swords on the ground in a cross in front of them, and never took their eyes off the other as the fiddle hummed.

Suddenly, a jolt of energy from the musicians. And the sister-chiefs sprang up to their full height and began moving slowly around their individual swords. They began leaping into the air and bouncing around the swords, never touching them and jumping between the quadrants, arms raised and claws bared. The music picked up and they kept pace, speeding up their movements to match the rhythm.

Using their tails, they each in unison swept one of their swords into the air after about a minute of quadrant leaping. Holding their swords aloft and pointed at each-others heads they began circling each-other and staring at each-other menacingly. The first clang of steel rang out, then another and then another. They were bashing at one another, and a fire could be seen in their eyes up close.

The music calmed for a moment, methodically. The twins circled, never unlocking their eyes, still holding their equipped zweihander in one hand though to the ground. After a full circle the music picked back up and more clanging followed. Finally, after an unsuccessful parry, Jemya knocked her sister to the floor, and slowly play-acted the killing blow into her neck. Laying Johya on the ground, Jemya knelt as the music slowed, and then popped back up with a new shrill note and began a victory dance facing the crowd. However, looking once again to her sister, Jemya knelt once more and "revived" Johya, and locked arm in arm they danced facing the crowd and holding their swords aloft. The music ended shortly thereafter.

The sister chiefs bowed to their audience, picked up their swords, and exited on opposite sides of their makeshift stage. The Qornam Clan band continued to play afterwords for the next hour, doing renditions of ballads and classical pieces for the enjoyment and leisure of the crowd.


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Kisia
Diplomat
 
Posts: 980
Founded: Jul 19, 2009
Moralistic Democracy

Postby Kisia » Thu Sep 26, 2019 10:31 pm

Ministry of Barbarian Affairs
Teigamou, Kastia, Kisian League

Riizho Aithonyu looked on diligently while Kizutho Iiyahe, his senior instructor was going on about diplomatic policy. He'd heard most of it before, but a few tidbits were new advice, and he intended to make the most of it. He jotted down things at a quick pace, occasionally stopping to make sure he could actually read the things he'd wrote.

"...and finally, two things that you all, as members of the Foreign Service must remember. Inside Kisia, we use the terms 'Barbarian' and 'Foreigner' interchangeably, as I'm quite sure you're all aware." Kizutho said, flashing a smile, garnering a few laughs amongst the assembled. "However! Outside of Kisia, we are known as the Foreign Ministry! Use the correct tone, lest you offend someone and start an incident! Which brings me to my next point." He said, clicking a button. The slideshow moved to a display of two characters, similar in styling and stroke. He turned and pointed to the left character.

"Barbarian!" He moved to the right character. "Foreigner!" Note the difference in stroke style, shape, and line formation! They're rather similar, but foreign language translation apps might pickup the difference. Make sure to always use the right character when writing official reports. Otherwise, it's at your discretion. Understood?"

"Crystal, sir!" Came the response from those assembled.

"Good. You can expect your duty assignments within a few days. Dismissed!"

As Riizho started to gather his belongings and leave, he was stopped by Kizutho.

"With the exception of you. It appears your assignment has come early. Walk with me, will you?"

Naturally, Riizho could very well not decline a request from a superior officer (which effectively carried the weight of an order anyways), so he accepted. As they made their way out of the briefing room and into the general complex that housed Barbarian Affairs, his instructor was markedly silent. Just as he began to think of breaking the awkwardness of the situation, his superior spoke.

"It would appear your credentials and previous diplomatic missions have impressed someone upstairs. To be assigned to an event like this as a relatively junior diplomatic officer is uncommon. But, exceptions appear from time to time, and we would be amiss to not use what talent we find to the best of our abilities."

"You think too highly of me, Instructor. I merely performed my duties as an officer of the Federal Army. Now I act as an officer for more...diplomatic affairs."

"Yes, but you performed with such zeal. You served admirably in the Kaidar and Zanthoshu Campaigns, received the Military Honors Medal- 2nd Class even. Your swordsmanship abilities are excellent- and unlike some, you still manage to be proficient with a rifle after becoming accustomed to doing more office rather than field work. You're a very competent officer, and thus we have full faith in what you have been called on to do."

"That being?" As Riizho asked, they walked into Kizutho's personal office. As he slid the door shut, he motioned for Riizho to sit down.

"You're being sent to the Thrashian Empire. We've received an invitation to a soiree from them, considering we are neighboring nations as well as members of the GCC. It is my understanding that there will be high-ranking Imperial officials there, as well as envoys from other nations. Go there, make some friends and make inroads beneficial to our national cause. Don't start any incidents."

"Understood. Will there be anyone else?" Riizho queried. Kizutho made a dismissive sweep of his hand.

"We're sending Iyokharu along to assist you, as well as the usual diplomatic aides and security escorts. You're in charge of the delegation, though." Kizutho replied, looking away for a few moments to clack away loudly on his keyboard, before pressing tapping the last key with a bit of grace. "I've sent some information about the Empire to your terminal in your quarters. Study up, and make ready to leave in three days. Dismissed."

Riizho stood and saluted, before briskly walking out his seniors office and into the hall. There was much to do and prepare for over the coming days.




Some days later
Imperial Winter Palace
Cahrien, New Bastion

The trip was relatively uneventful, though he used his time to coordinate with Iyokharu about talking points and other assorted minute details. Venthaven Iyokharu was a Cilisti, one of the few races within the League that actually had the respect of the Kisians. While the Cilistian Empire had collapsed ages ago, many of the fleeing survivors came to what was then Kisian Empire, who then immediately established themselves as masterful merchants, shrewd diplomats and skilled advisors. Hence, Cilistians tended to accompany Kisians on foreign trips abroad acting as seconds. They were a stark contrast to the Kisians- where as they were tall and strong, Cilistians were still tall- yet lanky and rather frail. They were completely hairless beings, their skin-tones being various shades of light-blue. They preferred to mediate, where Kisians preferred to fight. In a way, the two races complimented each other.

The Kisian delegation arrived in their muted blue and red uniforms, wearing military mess dress as opposed to the more civilian suits and dresses of some the other assembled delegates. Riizho had chosen to be tactful and only wear a few of his more important medals, as opposed to an entire chestful. He also sported a stylized purple and white armband with a star on it. Venthaven only wore two medals, those being the only two to his name. He also wore an oxygen mask over his face- alcohol and it's vapors were toxic to Cilistians. The rest of the delegation was without adornments, save for the earpieces they used for communicating with the other officials. Venthaven had a datapad as well, using it to take notes alongside being a backup translation device.

As the delegation assembled for the opening welcome, Venthaven made a slight sound of mild disgust. "Must every species imbibe those horrid drinks? It's a wonder they manage to get anything done..." he spoke, his voice muffled by the breathing mask.

"Alcohol tends to be the...social lubricant for these events. A bunch of drunk and happy dignitaries tends to make things easier in the long run. Besides, I'm sure if it wasn't toxic to your species, you'd partake of it as well." Riizho replied, a slight smirk on his face. Venthaven merely sighed as they continued onward. It was agreed that they'd speak to Moff Jerjerrod first, then make their way through the other various attendees as they saw fit. Riizho himself took a glass of red wine off a passing serving tray as the Moff made his welcome speech.

"Cheers!" Riizho said with the others, holding his glass in the air. After taking a long sip from the glass, he swirled it around gently and turned towards Venthaven slightly.

"There are many opportunities here tonight. Let us make the most of them." Riizho spoke quietly, a smile on his face.

"Of course." Venthaven replied, nodding deeply.
Last edited by Kisia on Thu Sep 26, 2019 10:57 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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The Peninsular
Spokesperson
 
Posts: 130
Founded: Apr 04, 2017
New York Times Democracy

Postby The Peninsular » Fri Sep 27, 2019 2:40 am

Rear Admiral Kristien Werner took another sip from the glass in his right hand as he continued to listen to the continued stream of words veritably flowing out of Governor-Duke Van Kuat's mouth. His briefing had not been wrong; the Thrashian businessman seemed to have a very good information network.

The Peninsularian Navy had rapidly swelling its ranks over the past years, and delays on the latest line of Eradicator-class warships had indeed been reported to the Federal Chamber merely a day ago. Van Kuat had apparently gotten wind of this rather quickly, as now he was showering Werner in information and fervently advertising a number of Kuati capital ship classes.

Not that that Werner was opposed to listening to it. The 110 year old officer had commanded the older generations of the CFP's warships himself in the ranks of Principal Lieutenant up to Commodore for a long time, one of the last ones being an early generation version of said Eradicator-class. As such, and due to his position anyway, he was much more keen on discussing this topic than partaking in the rest of the party.

"Very interesting, Governor.", he remarked non-commitingly as Van Kuat finished his talk about what he called the 'Victory' class of capital ships. "The debates in HighCom are still ongoing, but there is a chance for a design contest in the near future." The Governor seemed quite eager at hearing this. Werner handed him a small, cobalt-blue card with the relevant contact data - Peninsularian bureaucracy could be a little confusing sometimes - and they went separate ways, the Kuati looking for more foreign delegates to talk to.

Intent on avoiding any small talk interaction with the Thrashian nobility for the moment, he made his way through the mass of people to what seemed like the buffet. A large variety of different foods and drinks were arranged on the tables, some seeming like they would break any moment under the weight of what had to the most massive cake that Werner had ever seen. Instead of taking a piece of it, though, he strolled over to the alcohol section.

According to his briefing, many foreign foodstuffs seemed to have extremely low concentrations of flavors, so he wouldn't be able to taste them, most likely. Alcohol, on the other hand, was tasty on its own. Werner took one of the glasses and filled it with a transparent beverage.

He emptied the glass and decided that he liked it. A small sign identified the drink as 'Wod-ka', his data glasses identified it as Terran in origin. 'Interesting.', Werner thought to himself as he filled up another glass and, ignoring the somewhat surprised glances from some of the people nearby, headed for the nearest balcony.

The outlook from the Winter Palace was quite something. Werner had never seen a stretch of water so beautiful while on a planet. Liaso did have an ocean, but it was either dead, a washed-out blue-grey in color or especially murderous to sail on, or all at the same time in many cases.

Firis on the other hand had some lakes here and there, but they were mostly devoid of any life and fitted into a barren, reddish landscape. This, however, was quite different. A calm sea, colored a deep blue, and he could make out several indigenous fish jumping out of the water. "Quite a view this is.", he said to himself a little too loud, and only then noticed that the person next to him was the Aumanii representative.
Last edited by The Peninsular on Fri Sep 27, 2019 2:41 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Vipra
Diplomat
 
Posts: 773
Founded: Jan 04, 2007
Compulsory Consumerist State

Postby Vipra » Fri Sep 27, 2019 11:13 am

Clad in the rather martial black-with-blue suit of the Vipran Diplomatic Corps Vikarri Brezavya looked more akin to a military attache, and her posture was not the elegant and graceful poise so many xenoi expected of women for some reason. Easily a head over the tallest human, five pale blue tendrils running down her back from her scalp, she moved with the poise expected of officers rather than curtsying foreign office employees. Scarlet eyes were bisected by a forest-green fissure of a scar that ran down from the center of her central headstalk all the way over her nose to her chin with messy little fractures of green splintering off from it along the way.

Vikarri Brezavya had been to many fancy dos and parties, so many they all blended together. It came with the territory of being a diplomat that they became humdrum. The cordial rubbing of elbows and pleasant exchange of greetings were as mechanical and routine as cleaning a rifle. The smile and little nod of the head upon seeing someone noteworthy were the initial disassembly while the following handshake and sincere yet hollow greetings were the rote of cleaning. Smalltalk and making little deals was the oiling, of course. When that lubrication ended they departed with little pointless promises to talk again, reassembly, and then the cycle repeated over and over again.

The atoran didn’t mind the ritual despite how she painted it in her head, there was just no glamour left. Even grand halls filled with prettily dressed servers and dignitaries from across the quadrant and beyond did little to inspire awe. Not that it wasn’t impressive as she looked around the display of Thrashian opulence, a sure sign of their recovery since their mass exodus, and the number of diplomats and ambassadors meant she was never short of elbows to rub.

Flanking her were the actual military attaches. On one side stood Captain Genderic Flayer, a stoic Talythian officer with salt and pepper hair wearing the white with black trim of the Stellar Forces, a drink in one hand while the other relaxed lazily in a pocket. While he looked around with a small professional smile, Brigadier Commander Zeshkirri Gevroman was picking away at a small appetizer. The rotund ekonite woman, if she could be called that given her rather mercurial physiology, was clad in a one-size-too-large olive green and gold uniform that only left her adipose-white face exposed under a stiff green kepi. Large black eyes glanced about as she helped herself to another offering of hors d’oeuvres, the motion of the solid black orbs unnoticeable apart from the slither of moisture across their surface as invisible pupils traversed the crowd. Neither were even close to the diplomat in height, the Talythian a coming up to a little past her waist while the Brigadier was a head taller than him but still a dwarf beside the leader of this diplomatic party.

Between the little meet and greets they had time to themselves, to snip at one another.

“Must you scoff anything within arm’s reach?” Captain Flayer commented towards the portly Brigadier as she snatched another tidbit.

She laughed, shaking her head, “But of course! I need to keep my calories and body-mass up just in case something happens.”

Vikarri chortled as well, knowing just what that something she alluded to was. This might not have been the Galactic Assembly but there were certainly enough people to qualify for that sort of thing. Surreptitiously looking for firearms had been a pastime of all three since they had arrived and each had spared a few glances towards the Aumani representative just in case a Russian showed up for a second round.

Of course they had to pay attention when Moff Jerjerrod made his speech, welcoming them to the event and the new capital of Thrashia. Polite clapping and the clink of glasses followed in a cascading rattle, and they added their own small part of glove-on-glove. That done, they rejoined the herd as the din of conversation roared up once more. There was a foreign musical display as well, by the Lotrabmeits if Vikarri wasn’t wrong. It was all going well, disclaimer and all, until they brought out swords. Another group to watch for a potential outbreak of the storied diplomatic assault. Gevroman would keep a watch on them and others like she had eyes on the back of her head. Which she did; if one looked close enough at the back of her bald scalp they would notice the slight discolouration that denoted patches of crystal-saturated skin that acted as rudimentary and nigh invisible eyes.

Vikarri plucked a glass of something bubbly from a passing server and held it in her hand to match the decorum, avoiding touching the glass to her lips, “Alright you two, don’t go causing a scene and stay close enough that I can make sure you don’t get up to mischief.”

“You mean stay close so that we can smuggle you out of here when the bullets start flying,” Gevroman jauntily corrected her.

“Something like that.”



Cilistia Novaren says: Look, I cant read while eating, your posts usually end in my having a strange feeling of dread, nausea, or slight arousal, or all at the same time.

Vipra says: In the Grim-Darkness of my spare time, there is only War... And cat-people boning...
Foxfire Rose says: I am Xiscapia and I approve this message.

Kostemetsia says: The atoran: a walking interplay of sex and violence.

Valinon says: Rule of cool does not equal a defense against wanton stupidity

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Alversia
Minister
 
Posts: 3202
Founded: Apr 26, 2007
Liberal Democratic Socialists

Postby Alversia » Fri Sep 27, 2019 4:53 pm

Though the Alversian Diplomatic Vessel Radiance was far from uncomfortable, Ambassadress Kayla Connors was looking forward to reaching their destination at last. It had been a long journey, setting off from Alversia a week ago and then travelling across the infinite darkness between galaxies to the Republican stronghold at Benedict. From Benedict then, they had come halfway across the galaxy to the New Bastion System. It shouldn’t have taken so long, but in a sad indictment of the state of the galaxy, they had been forced to bob and weave around contested systems, hostile nations and lawless regions holding monsters both natural and otherwise. But now here they were, navigating the narrow tunnel through the system that had been carved by their hosts. Connors leant at the window, craning her head and twisting as she tried to take in every new sight but there were just so many! Too many for her to count.

“It’s sight,” Came the soft voice behind her, “Isn’t it.”

Though she knew the voice, Connors turned to lay eyes on her guest. The lady Neniel Vos Aradaneth approached with long and elegant strides, silver hair rippling and shining in the warm light of the cabin, the click of her heels lost in the carpet. She was ready for the ball that was to come, purple gown nearly brushing the floor, a long slit up the front exposing her leg with each step, revealing her shoulders to the galaxy. It was a stunning dress made more so by how confidently she wore it.

“Ambassadress,” She nodded her head to the more senior Diplomat, “It’s…wonderful…”

“I was much the same, when I first approached Roundtable,” The Aretian perched herself delicately alongside the Alversian, her presence much larger than the foot-shorter woman, “The butterflies in your stomach, the nerves, the terror of knowing that you are the avatar of the People’s Republic. Quite the weight on your shoulders.”

Connors exhaled deeply but gave a nod, “I’m ready.”

“Of course you are,” Neniel smiled broadly, bright green eyes on hers, “That’s why you’re here. With luck, this will be your new home and an opportunity to watch and listen and learn. A chance to bath in a culture unknown to us and in doing so, present the best of the People’s Republic. A position of responsibility but also one of opportunity.” She put an arm around her and pulled her in for a hug, “And don’t worry about your lessons or your lectures or your notes. This is a party! Enjoy yourself!”

“Thank you, Ambassadress,” Conor bit her lip but the corners of her mouth twitched upwards. The words had helped even as the intercom buzzed.

“Ambassadors, we are making our final approach now. We shall be landing in approximately ten minutes.”

“Thank you Kelly,” Neniel stood and offered a hand to Conor, “Well, shall we gather our party?”

The Alversian Diplomat accepted the hand gratefully, red curls spilling over her shoulders as she stood, brushing down the full-length red velvet split dress to remove creases it may have gathered before following her fellow Ambassadress to the main meeting room.

“-at least thirty ma’am-“

“-thirty-six to be precise. Along with a Super-Star Destroyer and escorts. A show of strength.”

The two who gazed out of the main bay window and onto the Thrashian fleet could not have been more different even if they were wearing the same dark blue uniform. One was short and slender, dainty in appearance with smooth grey skin broken only by the markings about her face and about the long fin atop her head where there might have been hair. Her tail flexed behind her, resembling that of a dolphin, rounded and smooth. A look of confusion played across her slender muzzle as she arched her neck to look into the face of her companion.

The other was wearing the epaulettes of a rear-admiral, an alumina whose curvaceousness could not be hidden by her uniform, fur ginger where it appeared, long slender tail flicking behind her and green hair tied up in a ponytail. Her hands were behind her back, the tallest in the room as she watched the naval vessels pass by.

“Enjoying the view, Rear Admiral Jaenni?” Neniel passed into the room, tone playful. The tall Feline rolled her eyes at her.

“Analysing, Ambassadress. That is our purpose on this trip, is it not?”

“Well, making friends would be preferable, Rear Admiral but yes, if you wish to count ships then by all means, be my guest.” The Aretian chuckled, “Do you see anything in particular you enjoy?”

Jaenni nodded to the Black Ark.

“Ah ha, the largest are always most impressive hmm?”

“I wonder how many star destroyers they could have built in its place.”

“Like how many dreadnoughts we could build instead of the stratos?” Connors found herself cutting across the conversation and then immediately fell silent under the sharp gaze of the Aluminan officer, “I apologise, Rear Admiral, I-“

“-raise a very valid point.” Neniel’s tone had lightened yet further, “I’m sure you can exchange notes once we touch down. Rear-Admiral Jaenni, Lieutenant Ani’Solcrum.” She bowed to both the Alumina and the Silarian with her before moving on, Connors trailing after her.

“I shouldn’t have interrupted, Ambassadress, I’m sorry.”

“No, please! Keep speaking your mind, it brings me endless amusement if nothing else.” She chortled as at least they reached the docking port. To the Alversian’s great disappointment, there was no view from here, only the hum and hiss of the ship’s manoeuvring thrusters as she was eased into position by her crew. Others began to join them; Rear-Admiral Jaenni and her Adjutant Lieutenant Ani’Solcrum, the private sector representative Larivvi Kemoriman, an atoran dressed in a rather fine suit and the tallest beyond Lieutenant Meitene, the 10ft tall Carvon in the uniform of the Diplomatic Security Service. She was in company with three of her people, a kitsune and two Alversians. Then there were the Bluebow twins; Dawn and Blossom, floating a few inches off the ground as ever, glimmering wings fluttering silently to keep them in place and last, but not least, her sister, Eva, the party secretary.

Blue eyes met blue as she scuttled over and threw her arms around her big sister, which Connors could only return. Eva was practically bouncing in her heels, a wide, eager grin filling her face, “Oooh, this is it!”

“This is it.” Connors took a deep breath.

“You’ll do great! It’s-“ She got no more time as with a gentle clunk, the ship shuddered and then came the same calm voice.

“Attention ladies and gentlemen, we have now reached our destination. Standby, docking bay.”

“Oh! Better run!” Eva hugged her sister again, “Ooooh! See you later! Mom’s super proud!”

She scuttled out of the way just as the door opened. Neniel led the way, Connors to one side, Jaenni to the other. Almost immediately the Alversian was caught up in the splendor of their surroundings, nevermind the wide number of peoples around! Aumanii, Kisians, Vipran…there were so many!

Drinks were made available almost immediately and she went for something in a small glass, colourful and sweet smelling which she raised in toast with the rest of the party at the end of Moff Jerjerrod’s speech before drinking taking a sip. It was sweet! Slightly fruity though which ones she could not tell.

“So…um…” She looked around then back at Neniel, “What do we do now?”

“Hobnob,” The Aretian chuckled as she broke off, heading into the crowd, “Enjoy yourself! That’s an order!”
R.I.P. Shal
17/01/2010

R.I.P. Peg
04/06/2018

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Thrashia
Minister
 
Posts: 2232
Founded: Aug 31, 2004
Compulsory Consumerist State

Postby Thrashia » Thu Oct 03, 2019 11:12 am

OOC: This is a joint post between Vipra and myself.

Imperial Winter Palace | Private Conference Room
The Next Day

Tiaan Jerjerrod took a moment in the morning hours of the next day to organize a sit down with each of the respective dignitaries that had arrived. After a communal breaking of the fast, more entertainment and tours were initiated so that those dignitaries not engaged in any talks with Tiaan or any of his ministry’s other members would be entertained and not prone any bouts of boredom. His deputy foreign minister was already speaking in another room with the representative from the Alversian People's Republic.

Tiaan rose to his feet when the Vipran representative entered the room. He gave a pleasant smile and motioned to a comfortable seat before the desk. While his guest sat he came around the table and sat opposite to them.

“Thank you for coming to this event, Ambassador Brezavya. I wish to impart to you a greeting on behalf of her Majesty, Empress Dheinalia Vera Nuruodo, to the Imperatrix of the Vipran Imperium,” Tiaan said.

Vikarri nodded her head, “In kind to your Empress, Moff Jerjerrod. You have certainly gone out of your way to accomodate us for this event,” she commented, not on their current surroundings but the whole affair, “Tell me, do you aim to displaying the wealth of Thrashia or to impress with its military? I couldn’t help but notice the display on the way in, as I am sure you intended.”

Tiaan smiled again, a slightly broader one.

“Naturally the Empire wishes to present its best face to the universe at large. It assures our allies that we are ready and able,” he replied. “And it helps to present a position of strength to those who need to be shown such a display.

“Though naturally it can be considered pompous. It was felt to be important that we do things this way, however. The Empire of Thrashia has only been in the Beta Quadrant now for the better part of a decade and a half by Terran counting; as an empire as a whole. Most would perhaps consider us to be weak due to that comparatively short time.”

A service droid with a gold-chrome plated shell hovered over from the corner and presented a tray with numerous drink concoctions. Tiaan took one that had a gold-amber color.

“But be that as it may, allow me to present the Empire’s agenda in regard to the Vipran Imperium. We’ve had small encounters in the past and have largely seen eye to eye during those events. As such I would like to offer a more formal set of terms between our two star nations.

“Would the Vipran Imperium be inclined to accept a formal exchange of ambassadors and plenipotentiaries? Included would be a free trade agreement, formal visa process for citizens going between our respective borders, and a mutual travel assistance agreement for the same.”

Vikarri sat and listened, waving off the droid after her counterpart had taken his drink; while others imbibed during these functions she preferred to have her full senses, the faux pas easily overlooked when there was a difference of species involved. One elbow resting on her seat chair, the other lounging on her lap, she held a brief smile as her Thrashian peer laid out the terms.

“While the candid offer is appreciated, truly, that exchange is only agreeable in part,” she said, not dancing around the issues like others might, “Plenipotentiaries or the powers thereof are sent on a case by case basis as the situation demands, and this is not such a case. Additionally, free trade is not something that I can comment on. That is a matter that will have to go under the scrutiny of the ministry of commerce, and the processes of the machine intelligences and their army of bureaucrats are enigmatic at best. A visa process and travel assistance, however, is something I am confident will be accepted outright, as is a formal exchange of ambassadors. The former may include restrictions upon or an extended process for certain species or those of extraordinary ability, but I am sure you understand the necessity of that.”

Tiaan nodded his head and sipped his ambrosia a bit.

“I see what you mean. Even we are not without our own bureaucratic foibles,” he replied.

He shifted over and pressed a button on the conference table. A holographic image of a being known as a “Welded” appeared.

“This creature, if you may not be familiar with it, is known as a ‘Welded’. Fortunately, they have not plagued the Empire directly but that is possibly only a matter of time.” The image shifted to rather gruesome scenes of biological horrors. “And this would be what we have discovered is known as the Karax Plague.”

The images shifted between various threats that had been identified by the Imperial Military Intelligence Agency in conjunction with the Imperial Security Bureau.

“While an exchange of ambassadors and perhaps more authoritative-holding governmental representatives may be spoken of more in depth at a later date, I am also asked to inquire as to whether the Vipran Imperium would be willing to create an information and intelligence exchange program? Informal, if that is preferred, in order to ward off threats that pose a risk to not only each other’s citizenry, but the galaxy at large.”

While Vikarri had been briefed on the Welded, the monstrosities besieging the Imperium and many others. The sight of them was never pleasant and she couldn’t help but wince at the holograph of a clearly unfortunate man that had been amalgamated into what were called the Twisted. Thankfully it was far from the worst example she had heard of, and the plague that followed was an example of the Karax plague that seemed to crop up now and again. After that was a slideshow of other cosmic threats, the sort that she had been shown frequently in order to roll out as incentives for deals. That was what followed, of course.

“We have no reason not to exchange information on a formal level and will do so freely. The Vipran Imperium is dedicated to the destruction of such threats and has been for quite some time, I am sure you are aware of the ongoing conflict with the Welded that has recently expanded in scope. However, certain classified information will be withheld unless the Thrashian Empire dedicates resources to the conflict.

“As for other threats,” she nodded her head to the holograph as another example of Karax rolled through, “we will share as much as we have available, although similar caveats will apply on a case by case basis. Dossiers on genesis titans, voidspore infestations, coalescence sightings, blackbloods, and other menaces can be provided easily however.”

Tiaan nodded again, draining his ambrosia.

“That is good to know. We have allocated several Imperial Navy task forces to aid our allies in the Colonial Republic of Earth in the fight against the Welded. They’ve yet to be released as yet though. We’ve been circumspect in openly speaking of such aid, due to internal politics. There are a few vocal members of the Imperial Moff Council who oppose such aid, seeing it as undue interventionism.”

The image of the various creatures and threats disappeared and was replaced by a surprisingly detailed astrocartographic representation of the Beta Quadrant. A significant portion of the center-to-spinward edge of the quadrant was marked out by a glowing grey-red line.

“This is the current border of the Galactic Empire, in terms of absolute control. We have several client star-states within our borders and are content, aiding them and our allies as needs dictate. However, the Empire is always keeping an eye toward the Quadrant and the Galaxy at large.

“The Empress wishes to know what, if any, intentions the Vipran Imperium holds for the Beta Quadrant. We’re well aware of your enclave known as ‘Aquarius’-,” the holo-image blinked and a glowing green dot appeared, indicating the location of said system, “-and are curious as to whether or not the Imperium foresees any expansion there from?”

Vikarri laughed, a soft chuckle.

“Well I am confident if you showed some unfiltered footage of a Welded incursion they would swiftly change their stance. Fighting a threat that will inevitably arrive to kick down your own door isn’t interventionism, it is preemptive defense,” she smiled, knowing just how often interventionism was dressed up in that exact way.

Then he had moved on to what was likely the real meat of the matter, borders, and the conversation became somehow more serious.

“The Vipran Imperium has continuously expanded within the Beta Quadrant, as with the other three, for the past thirty-four Allurian standard years and is in no mind to stop,” she said, blunt as a door to the face, yet kept her attention on the Moff’s face to gauge his reactions, “We have expanded from Aquarius as we have expanded from dozens of other systems within the quadrant. Aquarius is no enclave. You may require a word with your intelligence apparatus to reappraise the situation, as the Vipran Imperium has been firmly entrenched in the quadrant since before the Thrashian Empire fully transitioned to this galaxy. Our intentions are to ensure our security, grow our prosperity, and to strike at the abomination wherever it may nest, by any means necessary.”

Tiaan kept a pleasant smile on his face. He motioned for the droid to bring him a refill for his glass. While it was being filled he seemed to consider the words that Brezavya had said.

“Far be it from me to criticize a fellow empire from such things!” he said, a humorous tone in his voice. “But the Vipran Imperium are not native to the Beta Quadrant, correct? The heartlands, to use an old turn of phrase, are elsewhere?”

Vikarri raised an eyebrow, “What does nativity or heartland have to do with anything?”

Tiaan raised an eyebrow in return.

“Surely I do not need to explain that to you?” he asked. “Besides the socio-political advantages involved, it should be relatively easy. Perhaps Commander Gevroman can enlighten you in the evening?”

He sat his drink down and smiled again.

“But all things considered, the Empire does wish a cooperative relationship to exist between itself and the Vipran Imperium. Part and parcel of which is a recognizance of Imperial hegemony within the Beta Quadrant.” He raised a hand and smiled ruefully.

“Now -- before that ruffles any feathers -- let me simply say that it is a reality. The Thrashian Empire is poised to take advantage of the current astropolitical climate of the quadrant. We’re fresh and rejuvenated, naturally leading an eye toward beyond our borders. We do not wish supremacy within Beta -- that is tiring and not very cost effective. The Empire will recognize any areas in which the Vipran Imperium wishes to expand, and any areas which may be of mutual interest can be equanimously discussed diplomatically.”

Tiaan took up his glass again and sipped.

“I realize of course that this is a lot to take in, but her Majesty felt that you and the Imperatrix were deserving of having all the cards on the table between us. Things may be discussed at length in the future and no definitive terms need to be made now.”

Vikarri shook her head and chortled, tendrils swaying. Perhaps she should have taken one of those drinks.

“You mistake my question as being literal, not rhetorical. Cultural difference, I suppose. That or you aim to insult my intelligence directly,” she said, nictitating membranes blinking over her eyes as she stared at the human moff, “Although given you said everything I expected in response, perhaps I should be literal in the future.

“So let me state the Vipran Imperium’s stance so bluntly as well. If you wish to divide regions of space like a cake so that we can remain free of conflict that is one matter, arrangements have been made in the past. Space is so massive that there is no good reason that affable states cannot accommodate one another. But those arrangements were not made lightly, they cannot be, so I am not free to say how it shall be received.”

Tiaan gave a hurt look.

“My lady,” he put a hand to his chest, inclining his head slightly, “I in no way intend insult. It must indeed be a cultural difference. My apologies.”

The server droid brought a tray with little hard, candied legumes.

“Such a division of the ‘cake’, as it were, is indeed a favorable outcome to the Empire. Are there any other areas of concern that the Vipran Imperium might have regarding the current astropolitical situation in the Beta Quadrant? Anything the Imperium may wish to make known to us at this time?

“The Welded situation, naturally, is a major concern to us and one which I will take under stronger advisement. With your endorsement, as well as that of the Colonial Republic of Earth, I believe her Majesty can sway the naysayers on the Moff Council.”

Accepting apologies was something Vikarri was rather explicitly in the business of despite what may have been expected of a Vipran diplomat, “No harm done, misunderstandings are normal in our line of work.”

“The only real concern at this time in regards to the Beta Quadrant is the escalation of the Welded conflict. While the passive expansionism of our civilian sector is ongoing and unlikely to change, the Vipran state will be taking active preemptive action to secure potential breaches, create staging grounds or fallbacks, and remove potential threats to the war effort before they can take action. However, this is not to say we are rampantly or randomly invading nations. Certainly our need to devote to expansionism and consolidation within the Beta Quadrant would be lessened if the Thrashian Empire dedicated to the Welded conflict, and you can expect our strongest endorsements.”

Tiaan nodded. “I see and I understand. I will take your words to the Empress. I believe that, in the not too distant future, we may come to an even more accommodating accord.”

He stood up and gave a courtier-like bow. When Vikarri stood, he held out his hand and shook hands in a gesture that the Colonial Republic diplomat had told him most other star nations tended to use as a sign of mutual satisfaction.

“Please rejoin the festivities within the Winter Palace! We have much more entertainment for you and your attaches to enjoy. If you have any further questions, my staff will see to it that they are brought to my attention.”
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"D-Damn you all...! All of you dogs whose souls are still bound to the Earth! Long live Neo Zeon!" - MSG: Unicorn

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Telros
Diplomat
 
Posts: 944
Founded: Apr 29, 2006
Ex-Nation

Postby Telros » Sat Oct 05, 2019 8:35 pm

“Hrm, well it would be out of character for the Thrashians to not flaunt their large fleet around every time they do anything.”

“Raakel, please tell me you're not going to be salty about the extensive security, military or otherwise, for an event like this?”

The speaking voice, a human, glanced outside of his pod to the one next to him, containing his Tezekian aide who was rolling their eyes in his direction. Both were in contained suits that would provide oxygen and temperature regulation should combat be initiated, since oxygen would be vented to reduce the damage of explosions. Both were viewing live feed of the New Bastion system after they have come out around ten AU from the system center, courtesy of the Thrashian faster than light inhibitor system. The sensors also couldn't stop screaming from detecting, Raphael queried the sensors from his brain implant, and got an updated number, billions of space mines, save for three corridors. Completed with various satellites, armored fortress asteroids, and so forth.

“Raphael, there is security and then there is madness. They could have built a lot less insane things than billions of space explosives. Security or not, its hard to relax one's guard when dealing with an expansionist power when they do things like this.”

As they continued on their way, credentials were exchanged and ID's confirmed by the ship's captain and the Thrashian forces in system, the entire navy passed by as if on review, flying in perfect parade order, and moving as if the skill being employed was nothing to them, just another day of lazy flying. Raphael, while not trusting of the Thrashians, he had to admit they maintained discipline not often seen throughout the Milky Way. However, once they moved into their proper orbital port and disembarked, they exited the pods, their implants sliding back into themselves from the ports on the pods and came out to the hangar bay, initially by a squad of soldiers, more just to stretch their legs than anything else. Imperial Diplomatic Corps members were well trained and equipped to defend themselves should someone be foolish enough to attack them. Both were wearing the blue and white colors of the Imperium, replete with their nation's flag on their shoulders and a large pin of the Diplomatic Corps insignia on their left breast as they exited the shuttle from their ship and came to one of the entry stations, Raakel turned to their right and gave an excited squawk, pulling Raphael over despite his protests; upon seeing the view, the human relaxed. They were on an island, as part of an island chain, and the amount of greenery and the clear blue ocean was astonishing; many worlds achieved progress through plundering and poisoning of their own world, and even when they had attained the technology to undo the damage they had done, they refused or were somehow unable to do so. The usage of space was enough for the needs of the planet, with minimal impact on the world.

“Well, I guess the Thrashians share our qualities in environmental care at least”.

“Told you, you eternal pessimist.”

An escort eventually found them and moved to the massive palace structure, a query to the guards revealed this was one of the many personal homes of the Empress and was on loan for this event. The Thrashian children throwing flower petals about the crimson carpet paused and gaped in confusion and wonder when they saw Raakel, whom coughed and did his best not to indulge their stares, but a little preening and fluffing his head feathers had them scattering away giggling. The avian turned to see his human friend, bemused.

“...What?”

“You are such a peacock.”

“You take that back, I'll have you know we do not share any genetics with that vapid offshoot of avian species!”

“Methinks he doth protest too much.”

The good-natured bickering continued, even with Raphael taking moments to query the floating drone he had by his head, it was a small personal one, barely larger than a baseball, that was cataloguing and filing away faces, names, images; it tracked the extensive display of flags of the various nations attending, the shining legion of stormtroopers, standing still with imperial precision and paraded for all the diplomats to see. The music was crescendoing, indicating that something was going on further ahead; the fact that no other diplomats could be seen indicated that they were a bit late to the party.

Raakel sighed. “Of course we are late to the party, that damned Shoal drive is not enough of an improvement.”

“Fusion, even with AM to kick off the reaction and Hermium to improve it, has its limits, and warping the limits of physics to allow us to go faster than light counts as one of those things that goes beyond it. Be happy we were even able to get here without needing to spend one thousand years in cryosleep.”

A rather rude noise is all that answered him.

They came in, unfortunately, after most of the festivities were over, and most of the representatives were in private talks or turning in for the night. A recording of the days events had been procured, with the Kuat Drive Yards representative talking to the Peninsular delegate and the Moff going to each representative individually, but especially the Aumanii first, was marked as of note by Raphael, but they secured their quarters and settled in for the night. As Raphael exited the bathroom wearing his silk night clothes, being in the Corps came with some perks after all, he was stopped by a serious look on Raakel's face, well his head fathers were twitching since a beak didn't really twitch to reveal emotions, but the feathers revealed more than human faces did, if one know how to read them.

“Raphael.”

“Raakel”.

“What is your plan here? And before you start, I don't mean having fun, and opening trade and other such grade school diplomacy pacts. They could have sent the trainees on the mission if that was all they needed to do. No, you're here for a purpose, what is it?”

The human sighed and threw the towel around his neck to crumple on a chair, as he walked to the mini fridge and pulled out some Corellian ale. He set out a device and tapped it, a blue light blinking on and occasionally flashing.

“We've been over this since the academy; the Corps are there to expand the Imperium's influence and goals, being to maintain the peace, increase prosperity and seek allies against all that threaten the general well-being of the galaxy. Stars above, they pounded that into us every class enough, Raakal.”

“Bullshit. If that was true, then we'd be seeking to do something about the Thrashian Empire; they just show up a decade ago, somehow moving all of their people, resources and fleet from another galaxy to here, and then because the colonies they had here were too small, went on a rapid expansion campaign of conquest. The war only lasted such a small amount of time because they picked on smaller weaker nations who had no hope against one of the native powers, not to mention what they brought to table. They are stable now, but the moment they feel they need more territory, they will do what the Viprans do, the Huerdaen, nearly every militaristic power, and take what they want. Why are we here pretending to be friends?”

“So you'd rather war then?”

The avian looked up, beak clacking angrily.

“You know that's not what I-”

Raphael cut him off, tone cold, body rigid.

“Then you're an idiot. Ignoring the Empire is not going to do anything, we either have an enemy we know little of or a potential ally that may fall into another camp. The expansion of the Empire is something the Corps, the government, most people in the Imperium can agree on makes them massive hypocrits when they claim to love peace and desire stability, and care about the wellbeing of others. No, they care for their own prosperity, even if must come at the cost of others, that's the way the Milky Way works. We're an aberration, a hiccup, a young child learning their way, Raakel. We've only been in space for about two hundred years, some colonies of these powers have been in existence longer than that. Unless we want to declare war on everything we don't like, and thus either get everyone to stamp us out like the Gata'ja or fall into the game like the Viprans, Huerdaen and Aumanii have, treating the galaxy like a gameboard. If a nation falls, it is merely a piece, an expendable one.

We have to play the game as well, that is the sad truth of our reality. We have to come, put a smile on our face, talk about friendships we don't mean, cooperation we only half intend, and threats that come as quickly as breathing. We want to create prosperity, to end the chaos of our galaxy and to stand up for the little guys. Sometimes that means with words, rather than guns. And the Empire, while having an odious beginning, can possibly be influenced to not do this again and to help out with the conflicts going on. The Viprans are here, so I cannot imagine they won't try to bring them into the Welded conflict, but we must ensure they can commit at least something,while extending ties of our own. The inevitable goal of the Imperium is to have an empire similar to that of our enemies, so we can match them blow for blow, to contain them just as much as the Welded. Eternal stalemate may be the only goal we can achieve, for now, but it buys time for us, and for SATMA, to truly gain the strength to turn the tide.

What's the real reason we're here? To do our jobs as diplomats and learn as much as we can, while preventing them from doing too much of the same and to take advantage of opportunities to pursue our goals. The Thrashians are doing the same, but merely inviting us to come to them, and are shopping for powers to align with and those they need to keep an eye on. We want to be in the 'friendly' niche and stop them from aiding the Vipran, HSE and other threats causes instead of our own.”

Raakel was speechless for a moment, beak opening and closing as if to say something but chose to say nothing after seeing his companion's face. Raphael nodded and reached out to grab the device.

“Good, now don't ask this again, as you should've known this already. Get some sleep, we have a busy day tomorrow.”

He pressed a button and the device quieted down, lights shutting off and he slipped it under his pillow, his opposite settling in as well and turning off the light.

****************

The following day, both showed up, again in their diplomatic uniforms and were relaxing with some food and tours while looking around the various delegations and sizing them up, determining which one to speak with first. The Aumanii were an easy choice, after all they were allies, but it was more important to reach out to others they had not seen or dealt with much before. Raphael's drone, having collected data before, was hovering names above people through his ocular implants, his eyes settling on Ambassadreess Kayla Connors of the Alversian People's Republic. He set the drone to keep a watch on her, notifying him of a moment she would be available for him to come and swoop in to start introductions.

“Raakel, you have a target yet?”

The avian had been quite since last night, leaving the air tense and thus seemed to jump a bit at being addressed before his faculties settled back in.

“I...yes, the ones that did a song and performance last night, they are new and unknown to us beyond galactic trade records, I was thinking of starting there. Are you thinking of reaching out the Vipran ambassador?”

“Yes, the Archon made it clear I should touch base to see if we can coordinate plans on the Welded support front. However, she does seem to be missing, as does Moff Tiaan Jerjerrod, I can only presume he's started the real diplomatic game now. We have our targets, just sit back, and enjoy their excellent taste in booze and food, some may even come to us.”

User avatar
Thrashia
Minister
 
Posts: 2232
Founded: Aug 31, 2004
Compulsory Consumerist State

Postby Thrashia » Sun Oct 06, 2019 2:46 pm

OOC: This was a joint post written by Lotrabme and myself.



Imperial Winter Palace | Private Suite & Conference Chamber


Lianna Orrek was a senior aide to Moff Tiaan Jerjerrod and had served within the Imperial Foreign Ministry for the better part of two decades. One decade back in the war-torn expanse of their own home galaxy, and one decade here in the new and more promising galaxy of the Milky Way. Although technically this was our original home galaxy, even if it was centuries ago she thought to herself. She had just escorted a Colonial Republic Admiral and other officers into a private conference with Moff Eddard Grice and Fleet Admiral Chiraneau. She wasn’t aware of the reason for that particular meeting, but it had been slated for the afternoon like many others.

She checked her datapad and flicked an icon to summon a courier droid. Within a few moments a hovering silver ball with two glowing-blue optics whizzed up to her and beeped softly. She handed it a data card which it promptly took into it’s small spindly, metallic hands and dropped into a secure internal storage space.

“Take this to Grand Moff Noventa’s office in Nova Bassilos,” she told the droid.

It beeped-whooped in confirmation and whizzed off with the near-silent hum of repuslorlift generators.

That task finished, Orrek walked to her next meeting at the private suite that had been set aside for the larger group of dignitaries from the Mind Empire. Lianna was a tall near-human woman. She had pale white hair, white eyes with white irises, and pale skin that many might have considered unhealthy by the standards set by human biology. But for her, an Arkanian, it was normal.

Lianna stepped into the room which was now filled with numerous different species, the center of which was an unassuming man of middling years. Lianna smiled broadly, unconsciously adjusting her blue tunic with the Imperial Foreign Ministry logo on her left breast; a silver pin of the Imperial cog surrounded by olive branches.

“Apologies for my late arrival,” she said, stepped around the group and coming to a pair of matched lounge chairs that were facing each other. “I hope that the refreshments have been to your liking?”

Lianna had specifically ordered that the palace chefs prepare a meal that would suit the appetites of the varied species among the Mind Empire’s delegation. She wasn’t sure if she’d be adventurous enough to eat either the rare bantha steaks or the purple grubs that had been attractive to saurian and insectoid-species, respectively, but they were on offer nonetheless.

“Nuncio Stivanius Tasso, it is my pleasure to meet you. I am Senior Aide to Moff Tiaan Jerjerrod and ranking diplomat, Lianna Orrek.”

She motioned for the nuncio to sit and she sat down after he did. A protocol droid stepped forward and deftly clicked a translator piece to Lianna’s earlobe, allowing her to understand all of the varied languages that this particular diplomatic group spoke. She herself was speaking in Basic, or what in this galaxy was known as Galactic Common. It was a hodge-podge language and one that had various influential elements from large and sometimes long-dead star nations.

“First,” she said, smiling, “Allow me to thank you for attending this summit. It is with great pleasure that I formally greet you on behalf of her Majesty, Empress Dheinalia Vera Nuruodo. She wished me to personally express her gratitude for your representatives having been present before for her coronation.”


Impressed by the bevy of refreshments and pleased with the variety they were offered, the Mind Imperial delegation made themselves comfortable while waiting on the Moff-Aid Lianna Orrek. When she arrived, Stivanius Tasso greeted her with a reverence and a smile.

“The pleasure is mine Mona Orrek, and I am pleased that Moff Jerjerrod has placed you with us that we might discuss business.”

“A woman of such refined taste and high rank! The pleasure is mine as well” smiled the senior stateswoman Trixabella. Stivanius turned to the side and motioned toward the High Cleric and said “I was just about to introduce you Jamona, Madame Orrek you are in the presence of some leading Imperials, all here to assist me in discussing pressing matters that concern us.

“This is Loanda Trixabella, noble lady and member of our College of High Clerics; the senior advisory council to the Sages and authors of our psychic and force users orthodox doctrines. The uniformed man there is Vice Admiral Lucas Andronikos. He is with our 5th Order of the Armada, and as a senior Superintendent Commissioner has oversight on their actions to defend the trade lanes and stamp out piracy.”

Turning to face the regal wasp-like figure of Queen Ardashara, the Nuncio introduced her as well “She was the member of this party who was present at the coronation of your most serene Empress.”

With a click of her mandibles Ardashara spoke through her translator, “The pleasure is mine to meet you Lianna Orrek. On behalf of the Chamber of Commerce, the proud merchants of our Empire, we salute their partners in yours.”

The Malluman Twins bowed their heads in respect as they piled bantha meat on their plates. “Your most dutiful guardians, Madame Orrek” they said in unison, with Jemya continuing, “We come from our mother who remembers the coronation fondly, and give kind returns to her Majesty on her behalf.”

Stivanius sat comfortably across from Lianna and concluded his introduction. “Now,” he said “on behalf of the Sages and the interest of the Mind Empire, we have a couple items we would like to discuss with you regarding potential threats to our security… Lucas if you don’t mind?”

The Vice Admiral stood, proud in his black and white uniform, and presented a portfolio to Lianna.

“Inside you will find more precise details of our plans but I shall give you a summary. First, we have the rampant piracy which is hard to contain outside our borders. As you know, we hold two ends of the trans-Beta Quandrant trade routes within our systems and merchants look to our Empires to guarantee their safety.”

Pulling up a small, hand-held, holographic projection of the trade routes between the empires he motioned over a cluster of stars. “The Admiralty is concerned that while we can manage the pirates within twenty to one hundred light years of our colonial sphere, beyond becomes a more arduous task. The Polemarch, the 2nd Orders Grand Admiralissimo, has put it to me to tell you that a joint operation against core concentrations of pirates in the middling regions between us would help to make the space lanes safer for all.”

Stivanius continued from there, “The other threat to our defense is the looming presence of the Weld. We have had no local reports, but in our recently founded enclave for refugees from abroad we have dozens of groups reporting their spread throughout the other quadrants. The Admiralty would also be inclined to a joint surveillance operation to keep a firm watch out for any incursions into Beta or near our borders.”

“You both make things so dire,” Lady Trixabella shook her head. “Van, may I make my offer?”

“You may Jamona,” he nodded.

“Well Madame Orrek, in better news, I have a proposal from our psychic masters, we were wondering if your force user academies would be interested in a student exchange program to the Empire to learn from some of our masters?”

Stivanius chimed in. “Since we have had good political relations we are willing to allow a special student visa for traveling Thrashians coming to our academies.”


* * * * *



Lianna took it all in with a smile. It was, to be honest, slightly chaotic -- but charming all the same in its own way. She nodded in greetings to each member of the delegation as they were introduced by the Nuncio and delved into her cybernetic cortical implant. Data and information swam through her consciousness as she heard each name and matched it to a profile that the Foreign Ministry had for the Mind Empire’s dossier. Most of it was useless or bare bones at best, but every little bit helped.

“Let me address your piratical concerns first, I guess,” Lianna said. “I can confirm to you that the Imperial Navy has been sending anti-piratical raids throughout the Beta Quadrant in an effort to tamp down on such activity. Due to various astropolitical limitations, we’re stuck operating in areas that are considered neutral ‘grey zones’ where no formal polity has made a claim.

“And, to be honest, it is a rather thankless task. It is harder and harder to justify to the Imperial Moff Council the expenditure of the Imperial Navy’s budget on extraterritorial anti-piracy missions.”

She took a moment to pick up a molted-green cup that was filled with a refreshing spice tea and take a sip. She kept it on it’s saucer in her hand.

“However, if the concerns for such things is important enough, the Foreign Ministry may be able to petition the Imperial Moff Council -- on behalf of the Mind Empire -- to increase such support. Would the Mind Empire be willing to supply a supplementary amount of credits? If the cost burden is borne by two instead of one it is that much easier, after all.”

Lianna set aside the tea saucer and took up her data pad.

She typed into it a few times, saying nothing.

She let the silence stretch for a few minutes.

“As for the Weld, or Welded,” she continued, at length. “We’re not greatly concerned by them at the moment. Their incursions are, according to our intelligence, limited to the outer spiral edges of the galaxy.” She paused again, re-checking the notification that had popped up on her datapad.

“I am at this time allowed to inform you that the Imperial Navy, in conjunction with the Imperial Security Bureau, has for the past twenty-five years seeded several hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions, of specially designed probe droids throughout the Beta Quadrant.”

She tapped a key and a holoprojector beamed out an image of a craft roughly the size of a starfighter.

“The Cognito-class Probe Vessel is a specially designed KDY product that was developed to act as a sort of sentry, detection, and intelligence gathering system. They are run by a specially designed AI program and networked together using ansible technology gifted to us years ago by the Republic of Parlim. Communications between the vessels, at least within the quadrant, are near instantaneous and encrypted.

“I am authorized to offer the Mind Empire a possible intelligence exchange program. In conjunction with any joint anti-pirate effort. With the latter you get the former in a nice packaged deal, you could say.”

The Mind Imperial delegation took in Lianna’s concerns and offers into consideration. Stivanius looked to his partners and one at a time Lucas, Lady Trixabella, and Hive Queen Ardashara nodded back to him. After receiving this silent confirmation he turned back to Lianna and replied to the matter of the pirates and the cost.

“As a Nuncio Plenipotentiary, I am allowed to offer your Star State certain sums of currency. Do let the Moff Council know that we can foot at least part of the bill for taking out major pirate cells. They need only name their price.”

“For the matter of the deep probing field,” Lucas responded. “We have likewise been permitted to let you know about our nomad vessels and their deep space scouting missions. If you are willing to offer us your scan data we will be willing to offer you ours as well. Their primary mission is to seek out good systems for settlement and mining, but they also search for unique radio signatures and potential void-borne threats. On the understanding that the Moff Council and the Admiralty will be the main parties privy to this information, we can rest assured this data will remain secure.”

Lianna nodded and smiled again.

“Then I thank you, Nuncio Stivanius, and the Mind Empire. A formal written agreement will be provided for a joint signing by yourself and Moff Jerjerrod to cover the information sharing program and the consignment of funds toward joint anti-pirate operations.”

She took back up her saucer and tea.

“As for the Imperial Knights, the organization of Force users that are dedicated to the protection of the Royal Family and the Empire as a whole...we do not have a formal academy system. Prospective members are taught and trained on an individual basis with various senior knights within their order.

“If we were to have a general visa program for our respective citizens, then that should be more than adequate. The Foreign Ministry has no control over the Imperial Knights as they are a power unto themselves and have only the Empress to answer to. So whether or not they would want to visit your people or invite them into their...spaces? It’s up to them and perhaps the Empress.”

She gave a small, rueful frown.

“I’ll be happy to put in a request to the Empress.”

Another quick glance between Stivanius and Loanda followed, and the Lady responded to Lianna.

“I think that would seem best,” she nodded. “We didn’t know whether the Imperial knights were you’re only institution or not. But the point is we want to allow good education to not be limited to their local contexts.”

Stivanius said, “We will await word from the Empress on that matter but we deeply appreciate your efforts to get the message through to her.”

He sighed happily. “That is all we had to bring before you on business, if you had any questions you want to ask on behalf of your government we will be happy to relay them to ours or answer them as best we can.”

Lady Trixabella continued, “And do tell his Excellency, Moff Jerjerrod, that we have felt very welcome here and that he’s done an excellent job hosting this gathering.”

Lianna rose to her feet and smiled.

“I will extend your compliments. Please rejoin the festivities and enjoy yourselves. There are some special entertainments planned for this evening I think you will thoroughly enjoy.”
Last edited by Thrashia on Mon Oct 07, 2019 8:28 am, edited 1 time in total.
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"D-Damn you all...! All of you dogs whose souls are still bound to the Earth! Long live Neo Zeon!" - MSG: Unicorn

User avatar
Thrashia
Minister
 
Posts: 2232
Founded: Aug 31, 2004
Compulsory Consumerist State

Postby Thrashia » Tue Oct 08, 2019 8:59 am

OOC: This post was co-written by Auman and myself.

IC:

Imperial Winter Palace | Cahrien | New Bastion


The afternoon was a busy time for Tiaan Jerjerrod. Between his meeting with the Vipran Imperium delegate and then arbitrating between the KDY owner, Governor Dorn van Kuat, and the Peninsularans he’d barely had time to scarf down a ribene sandwich with sweet pepper sauce. It was an imported speciality from the Colonial Republic and part of a growing food fad across most of the planet. The HoloNet network program ‘Füüd Fün’ was a huge hit these days, where picts of people’s food could be shared with the general public. Tiaan’s own daughter and son had both become rather obsessed with it and thus trying to hunt down the latest and greatest in new foods.

Tiaan sighed a bit tiredly, but then bucked up when he approached the door to the conference room that he had reserved. Two white-gold armored guards stood to either side, their blaster pistols at their waist. The fact that they had helmets on to hide their face made them seem like unmoving statues.

Without hesitation they allowed Tiaan through.

Inside, the conference room was designed with one entire wall made from transparisteel; thus allowing an unmitigated view of the city and the ocean beneath the height of the palace. Sitting, waiting, was General Miller Tyz'Juan of the Co-Prosperity Sphere of Auman.

“My apologies, General,” said Tiaan as he walked over. “I didn't mean to keep you waiting.”

He stopped next to the General’s seat and proffered a bottle of some smokey green-glass make. Tiaan grinned and popped the cork that was in it and sat down across from Miller.

“Fifty year old aged brandy, from my private stock,” explained Tiaan. He poured two snifters and handed one of them over. The liquid was honey-colored and demure in its tint.

“Please enjoy.”

Suiting suggestion to action, Tiaan started drinking his own too.

“Now, General Tyz'Juan, I believe you’ve got news for me?”


* * * * *

Tyz'Juan stood and shook the Moff's hand before accepting the drink. He held a gulp in his mouth, savoring it before swallowing.

"The galaxy isn't a busy place, Moff Jerjerrod, where exactly would you like me to start? I understand you've already spoken with the Viprans, so I can assume the Welded have already been covered. Other than that, there's not too much to talk about. The Karax has been contained, Mars is turbulent as always and the Huerdaen are still barbarians. This galaxy, by and large, has not changed since our governments last had matters to discuss. It's still broken, isolated and violent…as God intended." Tyz'Juan didn't sound so much like a bitter man, but one resigned to a bitter reality. The Milky Way was set in its ways, despite his own efforts to change it.

Tyz'Juan considered the glass in his hand. As much as he would like to get drunk and enjoy one of the dancing girls, he was working. Whether or not his presence here was a reward for his service or punishment for his failure was difficult to determine. This Overlord was of an enigmatic sort, ruling from a Jupiterian plane where his commands were not to be questioned. He chuckled to himself, the brevity was light and brief. A thought struck him and he acted on it without much contemplation.

"Whatever happened with Beacon? Last time I was posted to the quadrant that was the big news event. I read the reports, even interviewed that Manderly idiot. The whole planet up and disappeared. Lives lost securing it and it was all for nothing. But those Lightkeeper entities, I am very much interested in any news about them."

Tiaan grinned ruefully.

“Unfortunately, General, we have no further knowledge of what happened to the planet known as Beacon. We’ve extended several research and discovery missions in the past six months since that happened, but none have been fruitful.

“And yes, the Viprans were quite informative, as well as the Dornalians, about the nature of the Welded threat. I believe that for the moment it is a matter beyond the Empire’s immediate concerns. Karax…,” Tiaan’s voice faded for a moment and he looked withdrawn, paling slightly. “Karax is contained, indeed. At great cost.”

He gulped the last of his brandy and poured a second glass.

“Speaking of Beacon,” Tiaan got the wind back in his sails, “I would like to know if the Aumanii have followed up on any of the various factions that were present there? Our intelligence network has given us a great deal of clues concerning a few of the actors that appeared, but we could always use more information.”

"We've had our run-ins. Some good, some inconvenient and their actions have strained the Sphere's willingness to turn a blind eye. The Olimpiadans helped our allies in Tezekia sort out some unpleasantness… We suspect they're currently operating in the Borealis sector, out in Northeast Delta, and they've been complicating our operations there,” said Tyz'Juan.

“It has been unusually difficult to get any concrete information due to the rules of engagement imposed by SATMA. We've been hearing rumors, mostly from refugees fleeing a conflict in the Elysium Concordat, about war crimes and unexplained crop failures. We've also gotten eyes on the situation in Mungus and have confirmed, beyond a doubt, that the Pikasistani are there in force."

Tiaan poured the general another glass of brandy.

“That is interesting,” he replied, at length. “I had heard the Tezekians had suffered from an attack by a rogue AI, nearly or absolutely destroying their homeworld. Having their delegate here, perhaps I will learn more on that account. Strange to think that they would help the Tezekians.

“When we encountered them at Beacon, they seemed unenthused about dealing with non-humans as the Pikasistani.”

A droid brought over a nalwood carved box of quality cigars and a tray of hors d'oeuvres. He laid both down on the table between the two men.

“But everything you say, General Tyz’Juan, reminds me again of the need to reaffirm old friendships. The Co-Prosperity Sphere has been a long time ally and friend. In lieu of the fact that both our star nations are members of the Galactic Commerce Corridor, I would be appreciative of a memorandum of understanding between our peoples; outlining perhaps a mutual assistance clause, closer trade ties as a ‘trusted trade partner’ -- thus ensuring Aumanii business preferential treatment -- and an intelligence sharing program.

“Would that be within your authority to grant, General?”

Tyz'Juan paused for a moment and smiled politely, listening to his AI speak through a tastefully concealed earpiece.

"There's no reason to decline these requests, though I'd require some clarification on the specifics of this 'mutual assistance' agreement."

“Civilian ship assistance,” said Tiaan, “Guaranteed. Any SOS’s sent out by either star nation’s citizenry will be met with as much assistance as can be rendered, at need. Military vessels may request assistance and such assistance can be rejected or accepted at the discretion of the receiver. Should either star nation be attacked by a third, they may petition the other to join in it’s defense.

“Nothing as formal as a Mutual-Defense Treaty, but something with a little bit more wiggle room should either of us feel compelled by intertwined diplomacy to abstain. Though, naturally, there are always ways of supporting an old friend.”

"Then there's no reason we can't shake hands, my friend."
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Asilonese League
Political Columnist
 
Posts: 2
Founded: Feb 20, 2019
Ex-Nation

Postby Asilonese League » Sat Oct 12, 2019 8:42 am

Image



It is an important thing for newborn states to observe the older states; in such examples, the newborns learn from them. From learning, the newborns benefit themselves, especially in matters of security.

- Unknown Asilonese professor


The fate of our two states rests in the hands of the observant and the cunning.

- Unknown Alondran army general




“One must be foolish to remain unimpressed by the defenses of our hosts,” said the Asilonese representative, the woman named Shila’harras Reveri’ni, as her head rested upon the shoulder of her counterpart, the representative of the United Worlds of Alondra, the man named Franco Cortes. Her eyes were watching the Imperial ships as their own ship followed after the ones headed for the semi-tropical planet their host said was the place for this diplomatic matter.

They were married to each other, so that was understandable for those nearby to see them this way, but it was odd, should those nearby be aware of their names, that they shared not the family name. They —— the Alondran human and the Asilonese female who, for all to know, was an Uscei —— were supposed to, as the universal marriage laws of the League stated, share their family names. But they did not.

For the sake, and only for the sake, of this mission to the Thrashian Empire, they were, at the request of Vezox, the foreign minister of the League, despite the protests of the UWA foreign minister, ordered to consider themselves separate only in name.

Despite that order, they were truly in love with each other, and at least Vezox did not protest against the couple expressing their love for each other, even on official business. It was something that protocols and laws could not enforce themselves upon. Love, after all, was a strange thing as life was strange.

“Foolish, yes,” agreed the man, whose hand was stroking the hair of his wife, who was faceless, communicating only by means of a collar that translated selected thoughts into words that could be heard by ears, “but one would also be foolish to be too impressed by their military might.”

The faceless woman, whose skin was as close to the color of snow under the light of a dying moon, nodded, her collar lighting up as she said, “Towards that, I agree with you, my love.”




The two representatives united in their efforts to keep a low profile on their mission to the Empire.

They were, after all, the symbols of new states in the Beta Quadrant. And it was important to keep a low profile as their states were keeping themselves. It was important to be unnoticed by the big fishes swimming around, for it would be dead to be swallowed up by one of them. But it was also important not to be ignored, else they risk being swallowed up anyway, by accident or by intentions unknown to the two states.

And they kept themselves invisible, in the background so to speak, until they thought it was appropriate to make themselves known.

For the League, their concerns were communicated to their representative who was competent enough to be appointed personally by the League’s foreign minister. In her, the League placed their hopes of…letting themselves free from the silent commitment made to the Martians. Though the League did not hate the Martians, the League did not want to stay with them for too long nor for too much commitments.

Rumors, the faceless woman reminded herself, had poisoned the minds of the League’s ultimate and universal leadership. And those rumors, which were not always confirmed by the League’s intelligence instrument, the Ojo del prisionero, have moved them to…seek ways out of and around their agreement with the Martians.

But the faceless woman knew the real reasons why they were looking for those ways. Internally, the League was in trouble. The republics of Otis-2, Starlkhach , and Kanartkhta —— it made her wince at every time she had to think of them —— were causing trouble for the League, and as they caused such troubles, it worried the League that it may bring down Martian intervention on their heads, ending the existence of the League, as many feared.

Those republics were constantly opposing any law that was being put forward by the other republics, and to make matters worse, there were several incidents, most of them violent, among those republics against other republics. The League, she imagined now, was in danger of waging a conflict against itself.

And the League, despite faith in Martian protection, thought that such protection would bring Martian annexation. So that, the faceless woman thought, was the true fear of the League which drove them to seek out others, especially the Empire.

As for the UWA, there were no fears of internal conflicts. Such things, the faceless woman knew, were already taken care of.

First, the Satembi rebellion had ended in total defeat of the humans who didn’t want to open their planet up to further “alien” immigration. Their leaders had been executed or mind-wiped, and their followers were either forgiven or destroyed, in mind or in body.

Second, the reds were driven out of core UWA territories. Out of space and beyond the planets, they were forced to wage their pathetic war against the government on the frontiers, whose peoples did not sympathize with their ideals. Her husband, the human, had often updated her on how things were going with them. Most recently, she remembered, the reds were losing men —— not to battles but to defections.

And third, the impeachment had ended. Elections were ongoing, and the former Vice President, the lady Yuina, would hold power until they came to a conclusion. There were so many candidates and so many parties that it would have to take some time until all the votes were counted, confirmed, and presented to the peoples of the Union.

The major reasons why the UWA was seeking to establish ties firmly with the Empire lay in the economy of the Union, the military of the Union, and the place of the Union in the quadrant.

Like the League, it was too new, too small, to matter yet in either Beta or beyond. And like the League, it was inexperienced —— both were no strangers to internal battles, but external ones? The UWA was involved in a border war with the Olimpiadians, and that, the faceless one told herself, was something that mattered to both of the concerned states as that was the first real war that they were looking at for experience in the quadrant.

That would end soon, her husband told her, because it was slowly becoming a reality to the Union that the system they were fighting over was becoming worthless, violent, and controversial. The Union could not afford to waste manpower and ships and treasure over a system that was only known for drugs, both legal and illegal.

There was more treasure to obtain from trading with the rest over harvesting resources. But despite that opportunity, the UWA was not ready for the big leagues; it had to start small because it was small.

And because it was that small, it had to trade not only with powerful economic states but also with mighty military ones. The Union military, as well as the variety of armed forces of the League, were in need of foreign equipment as well as foreign education and training.

This was an universe that the two states were strangers to. And as strangers, they had to make friends…quickly, efficiently, and carefully.

And finally, especially for both of the states, the faceless one realized that, despite their close proximity to each other, they were in a quadrant that exposed them to hostility. It was not a miracle but a matter of effort and observation that the two states saw danger in their neighbor, Pikasistan.

So much was not yet known about that state, but enough information was out in the open about them to bring worries to the tables of generals, admirals, and government officials. And so it was better to be careful, to be ready.

And most importantly, the UWA encouraged the League to seek the Empire's favor. The UWA, unlike the League, had little faith in the Martians. They were distant from the two states, and they were probably more concerned in their own affairs or in some kind of war that the Alondrans did not really bother to confirm for themselves because they were occupied with negotiations with the League. And it was a relief that the UWA saw the League agreeing to at least attend this matter with the Empire. It was a greater relief to be invited, to be noticed by the Empire.

And so the faceless one though, so much that she had to be touched by her husband on the shoulder, who then told her, "Dear, you missed the Moff's speech. You were thinking too much, yet again."

Realizing her mistake, the faceless one shok her head, hand now pressed to her forehead, the collar speaking for her, "Ah, I apologize. I should have listened."

"Well now," the human told her, taking her hand away from her pretty forehead, "do not worry. Anyway, now that we are seemingly free to go about until the appointed time of our meeting, why don't we enjoy ourselves with the refreshments."

"Refreshments, you say," the faceless one said with a hint of artificial curiosity and lust inserted by the collar, "it would be much better if we could find some seekas guapa y seekos guapo (Asilonese corruption of the Spanish 'chicas guapas y chicos guapos' which, in English, means 'pretty girls and handsome boys') to play with until we talk with the Moff."

The human chuckled and said, "O, mi amor (Oh, my love), be patient. We can play when we find some wandering around like zyerpyentes (Alondran corruption of serpientes meaning snakes)."

And like the couple they truly were, they laughed at that and went on, biding their time, invisibly, away from the other guests, until the time that they could meet the Moff himself.

Image
Portrait of the Faceless Woman

Image
Portrait of the Alondran Man


(All photographs belong to their rightful owners)

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Thrashia
Minister
 
Posts: 2232
Founded: Aug 31, 2004
Compulsory Consumerist State

Postby Thrashia » Wed Oct 30, 2019 9:10 am

Note: This was co-written by Alversia and myself.

IC:

Imperial Winter Palace | Cahrien | New Bastion

The evening was coming up them all. Cahrien was waking to its evening colors, the bright lights of the city reflected back and by the ocean waves. Like a multifaceted, multicolored gem the city shone. Beautiful, to those that enjoyed such things. For Tiaan Jerjerrod it was simply another indicator of the passing day. He couldn’t remember a day in which he had been busier. Likely not since the inclusion of three separate client states into the Empire, and even then at least he’d had more time to prepare.

He had had a third floor conference room prepared. It had a glass door separating it from a balcony that overlooked the inner courtyards of the Winter Palace. Dance performances, feasting, drinking, and other entertainments were taking place. Tiaan was quite partial to the Twi’lek dancers, though that was likely residual from his younger years. He wasn’t quite young enough to go prancing after one or two such ladies.

The door behind him chimed and slid open. Two palace guards stepped aside to allow entrance to the delegation from the People’s Republic of Alversia. Seeing them, in their varied state of dress and species, made Tiaan smile. When he’d been a young man there had been an old, shriveled emperor of another star nation who’d preached about the supremacy of humankind. In his long career and experience humanity was but a single cog in a much greater machine, moving closer to the universe’s other working parts. Sometimes it caused the pieces to click smoothly into conjunction. And sometimes, sadly, it did not.

“Welcome, Ambassadress Connors. I do believe this is the first time we’re meeting privately. Allow me to express my gratitude at your safe arrival and give you the welcome of her Highness, Empress Dheinalia Vera Nuruodo of the Empire of Thrashia,” said Tiaan.

He took the Ambassador’s hand and, expert as a courtier, put it nearly to his lips in an older fashioned method of gallantly greeting a female.

“Please, you and your associates, sit and be comfortable,” he said, motioning to the collection of cushioned chairs. Next to each was a decanter of wine, glasses, and trays of hor d'oeuvres.

“Have you been enjoying your stay upon New Bastion?” Tiaan asked.


* * * * * *



Kayla Connors took a deep breath as she approached the glass doors that now separated her from Moff Jerjerrod, the high ranking Thrashian awaiting her away from the hubbub and noise of the crowd. She had been rather enjoying the sight of the sun dipping down beyond sight and the lights of the distant city lighting up in waves all across the horizon. The sea had gone a beautiful orange splashed with purples and reds and golds, shining light diamonds as waves washed over the shores. It was a wonderful sight that reminded her of Illesia and watching the city there fall into darkness only to be bathed in the gentle slow of her street-lights and shop fronts. It had helped her settle but now she needed to focus her mind, for there was business to be done.

As the door slid open she was met by the Moff, just as she had seen him earlier in the day. She had brought only two of the delegation with her; Lady Neniel and Princess Dawn. The others were still at the party three floors below, dancing, drinking and singing as they had been invited to do, sharing the culture of the People’s Republic with any who cared to pay attention. When last she had seen, both the naval officers were in what looked like intense discussions with their Vipran counterparts and she had been loath to interfere and disrupt whichever topic they seemed so focused on.

Lady Neniel was of course the paragon of effortless dignity and refinement, the sort that could only come from a lifetime of etiquette and protocol. Her silver hair, shining like fine metal strands, spilled over dark blue shoulders with intelligent teal eyes watching Jerjerrod with interest. In contrast, Princess Dawn was quite a bit shorter than either Lady Neniel’s 5’6’’ or Connor’s 6’6’’, not helped by the fact that she was the only one of three not in stiletto heels, instead wearing no footwear at all. Her dress was simpler but no less fine in make while her rainbow streaked hair was cut short and silver eyes flicked between the Moff and the guards. What was most notable where the large pair of wispy, translucent wings that fluttered behind her even as she walked, little particles of what looked like glistening dust swirling to the floor each time.

“Moff Jerjerrod-“ She started, only to pause as he took her hand and planted a kiss on it. The Alversian seemed a little confused by the gesture but quickly recovered into a broad smile, “I do believe we’d not yet had the pleasure of meeting in person though your reputation precedes you. Please extend to her Highness the Empress our sincere thanks and gratitude for the invitation that was extended to the People’s Republic. Please, allow me to introduce the Lady Neniel Vos Aradaneth, Ambassadress to Roundtable and Princess Dawn, heir to the Volantes kingdom of Five Oaks and cultural attache.”

Each bowed their heads as their names were mentioned, Lady Neniel’s being more proper in execution than the Volantes, before they took their seats. Both Alversian and Aretian; Connors and Neniel sat with legs crossed as proper ladies but Dawn fluttered a little into the air before landing cross-legged and taking a hor d'oeuvres from in front of her.

“Our stay so far has been wonderful so far. Cahrien is truly a beautiful city and you, Moff Jerjerrod, are to be commended for hosting such an enjoyable party.” Connors inclined her head with a smile, “It’s a shame that such diplomatic gatherings are not more frequent.”


* * * * * *



Perhaps I caught her off guard by the gesture? I’ll make a note of it and remind myself not to try using Colonial Republic methods too often. Jerjerrod adjusted his tunic as he sat and accepted a glass of phosphorous blue contents. It was a fruit-infused liquor that had the side benefit of temporarily heightening one’s alertness, called Enérgeia.

“It is a pleasure to meet you both, Princess Dawn and Lady Aradaneth,” replied Tiaan. “And I quite agree. It would certainly increase my workload, but then I don’t think I’d mind too much.”

He tilted his glass in indication, giving a small grin.

“But, be that as it may, I am nevertheless pleased that you and your delegation are enjoying the festivities. Your collective beauty makes them all the more wondrous.”

“I quite agree, Moff Jerjerrod,” Connors gave a little chuckle, “If the cost of peace were to a few more hours work then I think any of us would be happy to pay it in full.” She raised her glass, “To peace and prosperity.” She took a sip. As with the drinks downstairs, the wine was wonderful and sweet and she took the time to savour the taste.

She was here for work and to be a representative of her entire people but that should not mean she couldn’t enjoy herself. That was what Lady Neniel had told her and certainly the Aretian had moved from group to group within the main party, sharing jokes, banter and wine with them all. She made it look effortless. Perhaps in time it would become so for her as much as her senior companion.

The conference room door had closed and the guards remained outside at their posts. Protocol droids in silver-chromed bodies tottered about with trays of further delights, serving upon request.

“Because I am a blunt man, allow me to make plain the intents of this particular conference,” Tiaan began.

He sipped his Enérgeia.

“First, the Empire of Thrashia would like to make a public declaration of friendship and cooperation between itself and the People’s Republic. Close ties between galactic neighbors, peaceful ones, are to be desired above all else.

“Second, the Empire of Thrashia would like to establish an exchange of permanent diplomatic missions within each other’s respective nations. The Empress would, as a gift, set aside a residence to be used as your embassy here on New Bastion, but in Nova Bassilos and not in Cahrien.

“Third, the Empire of Thrashia would like to make a public recognizance of the People’s Republic and enjoy the same in kind.

“Fourth, but not least, is the creation of a free trade agreement and visa program for the People’s Republic and Empire’s citizenry to enjoy travel between our two star nations.”

He took another long sip after that.

“Excuse me for speaking at such length, but I thought you might appreciate the candor.”


When the Moff cut straight to the point, she sat and listened only nodding once he was done. At the same time it was not hard to have her eye turned by the shining silver droids that moved about the table, pouring drinks and leaving trays of treats which Princess Dawn was all happy to snatch at and chew quickly while looking between the two chief negotiators.

“Not at all, Moff Jerjerrod. All your points sound perfectly acceptable to the People’s Republic. We shall make arrangements for embassy space to be made available in the Alversian capital, Illesia, and we can begin negotiations for a free trade agreement as soon as is convenient for each of our commerce chambers.”

“On our part, we would like to add an additional layer to our cooperation. The galaxy is a large and dangerous and the more we can share with one another to help reduce that danger can only be a net benefit to both our nations, would you not agree? Should the need arise, would the Imperial Navy be open to working with the People’s Navy in anti-piracy or anti-smuggling operations?”

Tiaan key half an eye on Princess Dawn as she ate through the bits and colors of what was on the trays. Those she seemed to favor particularly well he filed away in his memory for later use. His attention came fully back to Connors when she made her addendum.

It was a good, reasonable idea.

“I am inclined to immediately say yes, my Lady,” replied Tiaan. “Another guest nation here at the conference, the representatives from the Mind Empire, have made a similar request. As my aide told them I will say the same to you: the matter of extraterritorial anti-piracy operations are of interest to the Empire and we would be interested in coordinating.

“However, internal policies have been shifting as of late. Some on the Imperial Moff Council believe that such operations present an undue expense upon the Imperial Military’s budget. I, personally, believe that it’s not a burden on any significant amount but see such opposition as posturing within the Moff Council.

“If both the People’s Republic and the Mind Empire make the suggestion then together, with several other influential members of the Imperial Court, I believe we can effect more permanent change of that policy. In which case, yes -- the Empire would be more than satisfied with cooperating with the People’s Navy in anti-piracy and anti-smuggling operations.”

A soft chime echoed and one of the fancier decorated protocol droids stepped forward.

“Dinner is to be served in the main hall in thirty minutes, my dear masters.”

Tiaan smiled crookedly at the droid and then raised an eyebrow at Connors.

“Is there anything else you might like to discuss at length, Lady Connors? Or may I have the honor of escorting you to dinner?”


* * * * * *



Connors nodded in understanding, “Of course, there’s always a reluctance to engage in anti-piracy operations outside of one’s own territory but the long term benefits cannot be argued with. It is only by working together that we can keep our trade lanes open, not just within our own territory but beyond. After all, our citizens should feel safe even beyond our borders.”
The sight of the protocol droid with it’s announcement brought a smile to the Alversian Ambassadress’ lips, “I believe that wraps up the main formalities, Moff Jerjerrod. There’s nothing that cannot be discussed over dinner.” She went to stand, “Unless you wish to discuss any other matters with myself?”
“Not at all, my Lady,” he smiled, echoing, “None that cannot be discussed over dinner.”
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"D-Damn you all...! All of you dogs whose souls are still bound to the Earth! Long live Neo Zeon!" - MSG: Unicorn

User avatar
Thrashia
Minister
 
Posts: 2232
Founded: Aug 31, 2004
Compulsory Consumerist State

Postby Thrashia » Sun Nov 10, 2019 3:15 am

OOC: This was co-written by myself and Asilonese League, aka Salgado (in Discord).

IC:

Imperial Winter Palace | Cahrien | New Bastion


On the second day of the diplomatic event, the day began with a great breakfast banquet. Various members and personnel of the Imperial Foreign Ministry were seeded throughout the guests, making further conversation and strengthening whatever bonds may be forged. A tour of the Cahrien Imperial Academy was scheduled, showing off the public education facilities that the Empire had. Students of varying species in the color-graded uniforms of their respective years were taking lessons on astrography, advanced biomimetics, physical education, and a host of other disciplines.

The afternoon was given over to the delegates to spend as they pleased. If they did not already have a scheduled appointment with their Imperial hosts, they could speak and talk privately with one another. Droid assistants were assigned to each delegation and had a prepared program of sight seeing opportunities, tours, and other entertainment that would satisfy all or most of them should they wish to take things easy.

A red Twi’lek wearing ceremonial robes of the Imperial Court found the couple from the United Worlds of Alondra and the Asilonese League. She bowed with one arm out and the other with her hand pressed to her chest.

“I bring you greetings, Ambassadors Shila’harras Reveri’ni and Franco Cortes,” she said, her voice mellifluous. Her accent was twinged in a way that neither could identify. “Please follow me and I shall take you to your scheduled appointment with Moff Jerjerrod.”

After the two guests accepted the guide, they were led through the Winter Palace to a central series of turbolifts. The doors opened and they stepped inside. The lift accelerated upwards at an almost alarming speed. After passing the initial thirty floors in their ascent the outer edge of the turbolift became filled with light, as the transparisteel windows showed the glorious vista of Cahrien City below the palace.

The turbolift came to a halt and it opened into an ante chamber of sumptuous decoration and design. The sapphire-blue carpet was so thick it almost felt like one was walking on a cloud. The walls were pearlescent white with a number of beautiful paintings and varied art pieces from a hundred different cultures. The lighting was bright and cheerful.

The two red-armored Imperial Knights that stood at attention to either side of the chamber’s far doors were less so. One was a male human and the other of a species that neither ambassador had ever known, but seemed near-human except for blue skin and red, glowing eyes.

Standing in the middle of the room, waiting in his Imperial Moff’s uniform, was Tiaan Jerjerrod. He gave a warm smile as the Twi’lek courtier brought the other two forward.

“Welcome, Ambassador Reveri’ni and Ambassador Cortes,” he said. “I am Tiaan Jerjerrod, the head of the Imperial Foreign Ministry. We’ve not had a chance to speak before now, but I am most pleased to meet you.”

The two ambassadors were quiet and they refrained from speaking to each other, and they kept the distance between themselves firm, even though they were, in absolute truth, a couple married to each other, by political allegiances and by civil law. They were able to follow their Twi’lek guide until they were finally in the company of Moff Tiaan Jerjerrod.

The couple from the United Worlds and the League both nodded their heads to their host, and to respond to his firm but polite greeting, the man spoke to him firmly as well. He said, “Thank you, Moff Jerjerrod. I and my partner, Ambassador Reveri’ni, are grateful for your invitation. The United Worlds of Alondra and the Asilonese League were pleasantly surprised that you were kind enough to notice us and bring us before you at your attention.”

The woman then spoke, even though she possessed no face, which was difficult to interpret, through the special collar she wore around her neck. She said, “We are very pleased to be the first to speak with you on the collective behalf of our nations. We hope that you would be kind enough to welcome us for a discussion in the privacy of your office.”

Tiaan Jerjerrod smiled.

“You are both welcome to our summit. I thought that, due to the close proximity of your respective nations to the Empire, it would be poor taste to not invite you.” Jerjerrod seemed nonplussed at the non-visage presented by Ambassador Reveri’ni, taking her appearance in stride.

“As for a private discussion, I am afraid that it will not be with me. I have another appointment to handle downstairs. The representative of the Empire that will be speaking with you is beyond the doors there. I hope you have a pleasant time.”

Without further ado, Moff Jerjerrod bowed and then stepped past the pair of them. He was in the lift and the doors closing before they could get in any reply.

The Twi’lek courtier smiled, her features pleasing to the eyes of most beings, and motioned for the door that was between the two red-armored Imperial Knights. “Please,” she said, “Follow me.”

They were led beyond to the door. The two guards said nothing and did not attempt to stop them, but were simply studied by a stony stare. If either of them had psionic abilities, they might have felt another, unseen perception taking an evaluation of them.

The room beyond was large, the walls were transparent and bracketed by white marble columns that were veined with gold and silver lines, etched in such a way as to create vines and leaf motifs. The vaulted ceiling was a riot of colors, forming a magnificent painting of winged warriors in archaic armor swinging swords and wielding spears. The floor was made from a blue marble, with a matching presentation carpet leading forwards from the doorway into the heart of the chamber. It was at the heart of the chamber that there stood a dais of three steps topped by a throne.

The human woman who sat upon the throne was, by nearly every measure, beautiful. She had long auburn tresses that fell in curls from her head and clear blue eyes that were bright with curiosity and wit. She wore a simple white dress, with little decoration or jewelry, which enhanced her natural beauty all the more. Beside her, to the left, was a young boy of perhaps ten years, with blue-tinted skin, red-tinted eyes, and a close resemblance in the shape of his face with that of the enthroned woman.

The Twi’lek courtier stopped ten steps from the dais and bowed to the woman, then turned to the ambassadors.

“Ambassadors Reveri’ni and Cortes, my I present to you Empress Dheinalia Vera Nuruodo, ruler of the Empire. Next to her is her son, Crown Prince Tanaris Nuruodo.”

The young boy, his hair blue-black and silky looking, cocked his head to one side as he looked at the two ambassadors. There was an intensity to his gaze that seemed far too mature for a boy of his age. The Empress smiled, then turned to another waiting courtier that was wearing similar robes to that of the Twi’lek guide. The young crown prince was led away.

“Welcome to the Empire of Thrashia,” said Empress Dheinalia in a clear voice, resonant in the chamber. The light of the sun flooding through the transparent walls was warm and seemed to settle on the throne.

The two ambassadors upon hearing the words the Twi’lek used, and upon listening to the woman confirming her title, which was as their guide said, aloud and with pride, they were stunned.

The faceless woman, with dark hair, and a pale color for her body, emitted a gentle but brief and sharp sound that could be interpreted as a gasp. And the man himself almost allowed his own jaw to drop in awe.

Fortunately, they were trained to keep their emotions in check, and acting according to protocol, the couple bowed their heads before the Empress of their host, the Moff, and the first to speak was the woman, who said, “We thank you, Dear Empress, for your greeting. And we...are impressed, greatly, that you have chosen to see us personally. We are but mere ambassadors for our nations. We are deeply in awe that you have done this.”

“Please be at ease, Ambassador Reveri’ni,” replied Empress Dheinalia.

As she spoke several droids appeared and put a cushioned pair of sedan chairs down, so that they might sit in comfort. Other droids stepped forward with glasses of various drinks, alcoholic and non-alcoholic. One brought the Empress a red colored drink in a tumbler that she took a small sip from as she considered her guests.

“I had decided to meet you personally once I heard the details from Moff Jerjerrod about this diplomatic summit,” she continued. “Because I am aware that your respective people are young star nations in an ever more violent galaxy. Am I correct in assuming that the United Worlds and the League speak together as one voice?”

The woman nodded, and her husband agreed in the same way. The both of them were happy to receive the small pleasures the Empress granted them. They each took their drinks, preferring the ones that were not alcoholic, and then the woman replied to the Empress, “Yes. We speak as one because of our close proximity and our long standing treaty to each other and the interests we share. And our people, especially our governments, were anxious to be noticed by a power that we hope was benevolent to smaller powers such as us.”

“I will say that you should never fear to speak proudly for yourself and your people, Ambassador. I consider it unseemly that any star nation, no matter their size or power, ever feel the need to come to others beseeching aid. You will find soon, if not in time, that we Thrashians are a different breed from most others. Our word is our bond and above all we treasure honor,” said the Empress.

“The reason why I ask if your two peoples speak with one voice is because of the necessity of what I am going to ask of you today. It is simple enough to speak it, but whether or not to accept is another.

“Your territories lie astride certain strategic points that my military commanders say is vital for various operations within the Beta Quadrant for the Empire. From what Moff Jerjerrod was telling me, your people are either subjects or vassals of another star nations, located in old Sol? Martians, I believe, was the name?”

The man turned to his wife, and she gave him the nod, and the human himself spoke for them, in a manner confident unlike the tone she took, which was taken not as humble but as submissive. “That is true,” he said, “Our territories are upon points of space that are important to any military force. But it is only the Asilonese League that is subject to the Martians. And by the request of my partner’s government, I was sent by my government to accompany her in...seeking an audience with you and your Empire.”

The wife then spoke up for herself, “This is true. Although we have acted to the contrary of the good name of your Empire, we only acted in this way because we sought to be cautious. For caution saved us. And the aid the UWA provided to us, as well as the aid promised to us by the Martians, contributed to the government’s attitude over the League of Asilo.”

The Empress took another drink of her wine, nodding in understanding.

“I see,” she said. “Due to the nature of certain quadrant-wide events, I am going to be quite candid with you, ambassadors. The Empire of Thrashia desires transit rights through your territory, at the least. However, there is another offer that I give you: enter into an agreement with the Empire to become a client state of ours. There are certain rights and privileges that you will be given as part of such an agreement. Would such an arrangement catch the interest of either of your people?”

The two ambassadors looked to each other.

Surprise was one thing. Fear was another. And most of all, there were others as well. They were awe, confusion, suspicion, and hope. All of these feelings mixed into one, and both knew it. They were one, as were the League and the Union.

The couple gave it time, and thought, and then the woman spoke to the Empress, saying, “The League would be happy to accept your offer, but we have made a friendship with the Martians. The United Worlds of Alondra however would consider your offer instead. And ...if circumstances allow us, the League might consider yours in the future.”

Empress Dheinalia nodded and motioned to her left. A robbed courtier stepped forward and handed a datapad to Ambassador Cortes. Upon it was a written legal document describing the framework of what it meant to be a client state of the Empire.

Rights & Privileges of the Client States of the Empire of Thrashia

Image


  • The _________ agrees to become a client state of the Empire of Thrashia for a period of no less than one hundred years. They agree to recognize the suzerainty and hegemony of the Empire of Thrashia over them.
  • A client state of the Empire of Thrashia is given all the rights and protections under Imperial Law that an Imperial citizen does.
  • A client state of the Empire of Thrashia is allowed free trade within the Empire, a visa system for travel throughout the Empire, and a number of economic benefits listed in Index A-1. No tribute or taxes shall be levied upon the client state by the Empire.
  • A client state of the Empire of Thrashia is allowed free access to all medical technology and quality of life improvements that exist within the Empire but may or may not be available within the client state's own. Other technologies of interest to the client state may be negotiated for between the client state and the Empire individually.
  • A client state of the Empire of Thrashia is given the protection of the Imperial Military from foreign entities that may encroach or bring violence against them. Security and intelligence information will be shared between the client state and the Empire through a joint program for equal cooperation.
  • A client state of the Empire of Thrashia will not have to supply weapons, soldiers, or war material to the Empire of Thrashia except by request. If such a request is accepted, full compensation will be made that is considered equitable to both parties.
  • A client state of the Empire of Thrashia may not enter into a war against a foreign star nation unilaterally, but must first seek permission from the Imperial Moff Council. Any other foreign policy objectives are not subject to Imperial oversight. Internal policies or government will not be infringed upon, nor interfered with.
  • A client state of the Empire of Thrashia will not be garrisoned by any components of the Imperial Fleet or Army, unless by invitation or request of the client state.
  • A client state of the Empire of Thrashia will accept the presence of an Imperial Executor that will act as the primary line of communication between the client state and the Empire of Thrashia. The Imperial Executor will have the right to inspect any city, town, facility, or otherwise noted location at any time. The Imperial Executor will have the rights and privileges of any other type of ambassador under Imperial Diplomatic Law. The client state shall likewise present an official envoy or ambassador to attend the Imperial Court at all times.



“You will find everything you need to know in that document,” said the Empress. “If you have questions concerning them, you may contact the Imperial Foreign Ministry.”

“We have one.” They both said. And after a brief pause, once the couple had read it, the man stated: “Will the Empire of Thrashia respect the League’s current ties with the Martians and also inform us of the opinion of the Empire towards the Martians?”

The woman then explained why the question was posed, “This is because my government would be curious, and invested so, to know how you would take us and how would you take the Martians as states in comparison to yours. And to measure where we stand here.”

The Empress cocked her head to the side, similar to how her young son had done earlier.

“We have no definitive policy concerning the Martians at this time. Neither opposed, nor unopposed. But you should be aware that if either of your governments agree to the terms of becoming a client state, your allegiance would be to the interests of the Empire. We are not tyrants however, and would equally look to the interests of our client states.”

A sigh of relief. It came from the man. And the woman was pleased, emitting a gentle and low sounding purr from her collar. Eventually, the man representing the United Worlds of Alondra reviewed the datapad and affixed his signature upon it. He explained, “My government gave me permission to sign this. As a diplomat, the power given to me has now been exercised. In their name, the United Worlds of Alondra enters into the status of a client state to your Empire.”

And then the woman spoke out, “The Asilonese League has also given me the power to recognize this and to respect this. The League, though it is a client to the Martians, stands in support of the UWA in their status as a client state to the Empire. And, should the Empire and should the Union wish this, the League seeks an assurance that both would respect and continue to respect the long standing friendship between the League and the Union.”

A protocol droid stepped forward and took the datapad back, after registering the signature. A holographic imprint of Cortes was taken and matched to the document, a record of his declaration. “It is recognized,” said the droid in a metallic voice. “It is validated to this date and time.”

An extra datapad copy of the signed agreement was given to Ambassador Reveri’ni.

The Empress rose and stood at the top of the dais. She held out her hand, revealing a simple silver ring that held an emerald bound by golden serpents. Worked into the emerald between the snake heads was the Imperial Cog emblem. A protocol droid whispered into Cortes’ ear, instructing him to go forward and bow before the Empress.

“I, Empress Dheinalia Vera Nuruodo, recognize the signing of this document and officially accept the United Worlds of Alondra as a client state of our Empire. Long may thou be faithful and steadfast, as will be the bond-word of our Empire.”

Cortes pressed his head to the ringed hand, barely touching his forehead to the ring. Then he stood and walked slowly backwards, back to where he had been before.

Dheinalia sat back down and turned to Ambassador Reveri’ni. “The Empire shall respect your wishes.”

She raised a slight eyebrow and the corners of her mouth just barely rose.

“For now.”

“For now,” said the human ambassador as he smiled at the Empress and turned to his wife. The wife nodded, and she said, “This we respect and this we support. The League stands for the Union and the Empire as they stand now for the League.”

Soon enough, the couple reunited and they bowed before the Empress and the man spoke once more to the Empress of the Thrashian Empire.

“Long live the Empire and long live the Union.”
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"D-Damn you all...! All of you dogs whose souls are still bound to the Earth! Long live Neo Zeon!" - MSG: Unicorn

User avatar
Thrashia
Minister
 
Posts: 2232
Founded: Aug 31, 2004
Compulsory Consumerist State

Postby Thrashia » Mon Nov 25, 2019 12:45 am

OOC: This post was co-written by myself and Kisia.

IC:

Imperial Winter Palace | Cahrien | New Bastion


Riizho Aithonyu and his companion, Venthaven Iyokharu, were led through the Winter Palace by an overly apologetic protocol droid. The droid had introduced itself as ‘Bezo’, which seemed to be the reflection of his manufacture designation, B3-Z0. He would bob his head down and make a sweeping gesture with his mechanical arms, expressing as well as he was able the physical attributes of a living being’s sorrow. “I do apologize, honored guests, for this. I have been instructed to provide you any amenities you should so desire.”

Eventually, through a turbolift that led them several floors up, they arrived at the destination that ‘Bezo’ had been ordered.

A small garden. Plants and flowers of many varieties grew, the space ordered in geo symmetrical patterns. A small fountain at the center bubbled with water that sprouted up from a gold statue of a small cherub-like creature’s hand. Lounge seats with red-silk cushions were about and inviting. Numerous droids, caretaker staff, were standing in alcoves and waiting to be signaled.

Waiting at the balcony edge, which this garden was part of, was a figure dressed in the dark blue uniform of the Thrashian Foreign Ministry. The figure turned, revealing a being with blue skin and phosphorus red eyes. Blue-black hair was cut handsomely and parted from left to right. His features were rather rigid, practically statuesque. But a bit of warmth shined through as the being smiled, revealing a set of perfect white teeth.

The Chiss stepped forward and bowed formally to Riizho Aithonyu.

“I greet you, Ambassador Aithonyu. And your companion, Vanthaven Iyokharu,” the Chiss said in a soft, modulated voice. “I am Envoy Mitth'ras'nuruodo, a senior director of the Imperial Foreign Ministry. As my name may be difficult to pronounce correctly, please call me by my core name, ‘Thrasn’.”

He led the two Kisian delegates over to the chaise lounge chairs and had a droid come over. It bore a tray with two glasses, one was golden amber in color and the other was a bright purple. The amber gold was given to Aithonyu and the purple to Vanthaven.

“I hope you will indulge me, Vanthaven Iyokharu,” said Thrasn, smoothly. “This is a delicacy from the Empress’ personal kitchens. I understand that you do not drink alcohol -- that it is in fact poisonous to your species -- so please, try this juice. It has a tangy, fruit taste to it.”

“The amber gold you have there, Ambassador Aithonyu, is nicknamed ‘Ambrosia’ by us in the Empire. A strong, rich brandy imported from the Colonial Republic. I hope you will enjoy it.”


“It is an honor, Envoy Thrasn.” Aithonyu replied, both he and Venthaven bowing in return to the Chiss official. As they sat with him, Aithonyu looked around, and nodded appreciatively at the rooms decor. “This room is decorated most beautifully, not unlike the palatial gardens of Kenyozhan.”

As the droid came over to give the pair their drinks, Aithonyu accepted it, giving a nod to Thrasn. He swirled the glass gently, observing the liquid with a curious intent before taking a polite sip. It would be impolite to turn down the first drink offered, after all. It most certainly was strong stuff, but it was a refreshing sensation as the brandy made its way down. “I see there are wonders still yet to be discovered, such as this Ambrosia.”

In this time, Venthaven had removed his breathing mask, the atmosphere tolerable for the time being. “My apologies for the mask. As you’re aware, alcohol is toxic to my species; sometimes even its vapors can be a nuisance, somewhat akin to what I believe you may call a ‘hangover’.” Venthaven said, sipping from the glass. It was sweet, but not overwhelmingly so, with the flavors coming together in a pleasant mix.

“Your Empress has most excellent taste, if I may say. This juice is very refreshing.” he said after a moment, ruminating on the taste.

Aithonyu took another sip of Ambrosia. “Indeed. While it is regrettable our nations have yet to solidify relations beyond the usual niceties, hopefully now will be a time we can extend formal relations to the Thrashian Empire.”

“I will pass along your compliments. And yes, indeed, that is the wish of the Empress and the Empire,” replied Thrasn. “At the current time we’re very much interested in deepening the relationship between the Empire and the Kisian League.

“But we also have questions. At this point in time are there any regional threats or dangers that the League feels need more attention? We have been approached by both the Mind Empire and the People’s Republic of Alversia about the need for anti-piracy operations. Are there any lingering thoughts your people might have concerning such issues?”

Aithonyu’s face grew more stern, as he considered his next words carefully.

“Pirates and smugglers are of some concern, though we find ourselves vastly more occupied dealing with the Welded.” Aithonyu replied, a lingering pause in between the statements. “Kisia is currently both leading and assisting in various military operations against them, but the specifics I’m not at liberty to discuss.” He continued, taking another sip of ambrosia.

“Going back to your previous statement however, as unchecked cargo and crew present a rather severe security breach, I believe my country would be amiable to some sort of combined anti-piracy effort. Doing so would allow our respective states to cast a larger net in regards to catching pirates.”

Thrasn nodded slowly in understanding.

“The Welded are a threat that has been made clear to us by the Colonial Republic and many others. Because they remain on the periphery, however, many within the Imperial Moff Council are against moving against the Welded. Moff Jerjerrod has managed to send monetary and material assistance to the Colonial Republic to support their own efforts to fight the Welded. If the Kisian League would accept, I believe the Empire would be more than willing to create a lend-lease program.

“Would the League accept such an offer?”

“I’m confident my government would accept that. We can finalize the details via our respective ministries, but I’m sure it will proceed without issue.” Aithonyu replied, nodding slowly. There was a brief silence, then Venthaven spoke.

“As relations are a mutual affair, is there anything the Empire would ask of the League? As GCC members, we already enjoy trade agreements, but being a close neighbor, it could be suggested to our government for more favorable terms domestically.” he said, tapping on a datapad.

“Of course, it would be at the whims of the Diet that such a proposal gets passed, but considering we’ve had fairly indifferent relations, it should be a relative non-issue.”

A droid stepped forward and poured the seated diplomats more drinks.

“I believe that I shall be candid,” replied Thrasn, at length.

He took a deep breath and looked out at the darkening sky. The thoughts weighed heavily on him and he tried to center himself for a moment. Thrasn turned back to the representatives.

“There is possible war brewing. There have been…incidents that have come to the attention of the Empress and the Empire as a whole. The Kisian League need not worry, as it is an affair that remains mostly within the demesne of the Empire. Our sphere of influence you could say. The Empress would be assured and pleased if the Thrashian Empire might, if the time comes, rely on the Kisian League for small assistance -- if called upon.”

Venthaven turned, raising an eyebrow at his compatriot. Aithonyu set his glass down on a nearby table, his expression suddenly serious.

“I can appreciate your forwardness, and thus I shall be candid in return. It is a possibility, yes. However, it would depend on the particulars of the situation, what exactly you mean by assistance, and what we in return could expect as acceptable compensation for our efforts.” Aithonyu spoke plainly, taking a sip from the glass he had sat down. “Providing arms and money is one thing; to potentially put our soldiery in harm's way for a foreign cause is another one indeed.”

Venthaven nodded slowly. “As we are technically already at war, sourcing ships and soldiers will be a non-factor. Thus, assembling a force to assist you should be of ease. It would ultimately be up to our leadership, but the devil is in the details, I believe the saying goes.”

Thrasn smiled.

“No worries on that account, Ambassador. We would simply seek possible medical and civilian transport capacity support. To put the Empire on a high war footing would naturally require our major shipping corporations to devote more hulls toward that effort. If we could rely on Kisian merchants to take up that shipping — with due compensation — then that would be helpful. And some small medical support as needed, with expenses to be charged to the Imperial Purse directly.”

He focused slightly. “And though our conflict will, in the end, be of benefit for the Kisian League, we will not ask the League’s citizens to fight. Our Empire has been at peace for a decade, setting down it’s roots here in the Beta Quadrant, but our military is seasoned by the Chaos War…,” he paused, seeing the blank looks on their respective faces, “A monumental, galaxy wide conflict that was one of the deciding factors for us to shift our Empire from our previous home galaxy.

“We know the price of victory and the potential desolation of defeat. This coming conflict will be in keeping with that ethos. And please accept my apologies for being vague and dramatic. I’m only allowed to reveal so much, as you can understand.”

Aithonyu sighed, though it was uncertain if it was out of relief or mild disappointment. “Certainly, such security concerns are only natural. Regardless, I shall make sure your request is heard by our government.” As he took another sip of ambrosia, Venthaven re-donned his breathing mask.

“My apologies.” Venthaven spoke, voice slightly muffled through the apparatus. “The vapors in this room were starting to become of some irritation.” he explained. “Though, I am still ready and able to discuss anything else that may be of attention.”

“Indeed, as am I.” Aithonyu started, finishing his second glass and setting it back down upon the table. “Though, I am certain we’ve covered everything of importance to our nation. Besides the request for shipping assistance, was there any other particular matters of importance you wished to discuss, Envoy Thrasn?”

Thrasn shook his head in a remarkably human gesture.

“No, I believe that that covers things for now. There’s bound to be more, but most of that can be settled within the next GCC conference.”
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"D-Damn you all...! All of you dogs whose souls are still bound to the Earth! Long live Neo Zeon!" - MSG: Unicorn

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Nazeroth
Senator
 
Posts: 3978
Founded: Nov 16, 2012
Father Knows Best State

Postby Nazeroth » Sun Feb 09, 2020 1:47 am

OOC: This was co-written by Thrashia and Nazeroth.

Imperial Moff Palace | Directorate Building | New Bastion City

The special visitor was brought directly from the spaceport via an armored speeder. Two red armored Imperial Knights acted as escort and the airspace around the Moff Palace was cleared ahead of time to avoid any traffic. The speeder landed in an enclosed garage, the armored doors closing behind it. Two squads of clonetroopers were on hand to either side of the entryway, an Imperial Army officer waiting in front of them.

The door of the speeder opened to reveal their guest. A pale and tired looking middle aged Human, a tattoo of a black crown under his left eye, stepped out. He paused to look around at everything. He ignored the two Imperial Knights that appeared at his sides and sniffed the air. The officer stepped forward and snapped his heels together with a short, curt nod. “Please, follow me.”

The officer led their guest through the halls. It was not as beautifully decorated, though not as gloriously as the royal palace where the Empress resided; though the Moff Council were not immune to the desire to host themselves in a wonderfully decorated space. Black uniformed guards stood at regular intervals, their faces blank and eyes making regular passages across the space they were assigned to. The guest and his two Imperial Knight escorts were not stopped as they passed.

They reached a vestibule lift and went up a hundred floors in a few seconds.

The antechamber beyond was metallic and black, with a chrome carpet. The doors beyond opened to reveal an office, the back wall of which was entirely transparent, giving a beautiful view of the new capital city of the Empire. Waiting for them, seated in his chair, Grand Moff Noventa.

“Welcome to the capital,” said Noventa. “Please, have a seat.”

Two seats were waiting in front of his desk. The two Imperial Knights stayed at the doors. A silvered protocol droid came out from a hidden part of the wall, carrying a platter with several drinks. It was placed at the side of the envoy. “And have a drink if you like.”

Truly, Oran was impressed by the sharp uniforms and black clad guards of the Moff’s residence. He approached the bearded man whom sat before him, his uniform rendering him of considerable rank in his Empire’s administration, Oran’s crowned eye made it’s way up the mans grey uniform to the black of his shoulders, glancing over the insignia that afforded him the title of “Grand Moff”. Oran himself wore a dark cloak, made from the lightweight fur of some hunted animal on the edges of his dark lords territory, it moved and shined as any light touched it, a slick black sheen. He approached and poured himself a glass before speaking to the Moff.

“I am Oran, Emissary of the Dark Lord of Nazeroth, Inheritor of All. I speak only to his strength and his conviction.” He finished pouring the glass of strange but obviously intoxicating liquid into his cup before signalling to one of the guards to take his cloak, as he unfastened it from two silver skull pins that kept it together. Oran then settled into his chair, taking a sip, the liquid biting at his tongue.

“But….you already know of my allegiance, no doubt you have ambitions or objectives, the black land of Nazeroth is a far cry from this...place…” He said, slowly waving his hands, sloshing the liquid in his glass. “The Immortal Lich God demands to know why you have summoned his slaves, what do you want Imperial? Time is as short as the day where I come from.” Oran’s eyes glazed off into the background, at the sea of lights behind the Grand Moff, the small streaks of hovercraft moving across his face, kissing the dark crown nestled under his tired eye.


Noventa’s face was a blank slate as far as emotion went. He was renown among the Imperial bureaucracy for that stare that made others imagine the depths of the void. He allowed a small smile.

“I am the senior Imperial Moff of the Empire’s government and ruler of the Praesidium Sector, Alexandros Noventa. I speak on behalf of her majesty, Empress Dheinalia Nuruodo. I formally welcome you and acknowledge the...Inheritor of All, may his realm remain as strong as it ever has,” replied Noventa.

His chair swung to the left slightly and he pressed a small sensor. A holographic representation of the galaxy spring up. It was still incomplete, especially within the Alpha Quadrant, however it contained the necessary information that had been garnered from scouting vessels and allied information networks. The coordinates zoomed in onto the Gamma Quadrant.

“We’ve been told through contacts that your particular nation specializes in mercenary work. The Empire requires your services.”

The map zoomed into a particular section of space and additional graphical information popped up. Automatic translation via the protocol droid allowed the envoy to read what was being presented with ease.

“Price is no issue. However, our requirements are exact. The timing will be ours and we expect your lord’s armies and fleets to perform to satisfaction. We only require a distraction, writ large -- however, any territory you manage to conquer is yours to do with as you wish; as well as any material assets you seize.”


Oran’s eyes slowly moved back towards the Grand Moff, a small and twisted smirk was barely being contained at the edges of his lips upon hearing only the minute detail of what was unfolding. Nazeroth’s influence was very little outside of the Delta quadrant, an opportunity to establish a foothold in the region would be most welcomed. He leaned forward, his attention had been snatched, if but for a moment at the words being uttered.

“We do not specialize in anything of the sort. We simply understand that His will can be manifested in many many ways, Moff Noventa. I must confess the temptation you bring before me, what types of forces do you need for this? The reach of the black king, inevitable as it is, has yet to pierce the light of the Gamma quadrant, preparation would be dependent on this, armies to be gathered, fleets to be retrieved from their local Overseers, and so on as you can imagine.” Oran stated, helping himself to a deeper sip of the drink.

This empire was a new diplomatic front for Nazeroth, the Thrashians as they were called, appeared to be a highly disciplined society, an authority built upon law and order. Nazeroth shared an autocratic nature, though it’s foundations were totally alien to the mortal machinations that these people operated under. These were the thoughts of Oran as he awaited the Grand Moff’s answer.


“The Empire wants your best. Enough to split major attacks between at least four separate star systems, with the expectation of medium-to-high resistance. Time we both have and with it we will expect your Lord’s minions to do their work well. I imagine he is not dissimilar to me in how I deal with ‘inadequate’ lieutenants.”

He picked up a datapad, one of a type used by most star nations throughout the galaxy, it’s function simply and tools easy to understand. A black surface with green text crawling up, two separate languages showing. The protocol droids had spent a few minutes making an equivalent alphabet for use in writing the Nazerothian language.

“Now, since we don’t expect your Lord to do these things without adequate compensation…here is the bill.”

Ten tons of pristinely cut diamonds of the highest purity. One hundred thousand vibro-swords, axes, and glaives. Three million blaster rifle small arms, made by BlasTech to the same standard as that used by the Imperial Army, and a guarantee of ten years supply for replacement parts and ammunition. A small fleet of two hundred Dreadnought-class Heavy Cruisers, their specs and weaponry detailed in the files, along with a half dozen training pods that would be able to train just about any humanoid in how to use unfamiliar systems and the tech onboard; as well as a ten year guarantee for repair and refitting from the Empire’s premier shipyards. Ten grams of glitterstim spice, refined to 100% purity. Ten thousand B-1 Battle Droids, programmed to whatever use the Nazerothians deemed fit, with a similar ten year guarantee as the others.

“It meets with your approval?” The details for each item were written in plain language.

The protocol droid came around the desk and left a tall, fluted glass of a dark-red drink next to Noventa. He picked up the glass and sniffed the fumes rising gently, appreciating the vinters art. He made a mental note to increase production on his wine lands. Noventa sipped the wine and waited while the envoy read.

Oran’s face changed from curiosity to a light cackle as he heard his counterpart rattle off the rewards that were offered before him. The Imperials were treating his lords domain as yet another expansionist empire, which would have been true, but the breed was far different and his masters taste was...particular.

The Emissary of the Black King slowly shook his head “ Your weapons and ships will not suffice...but there is something else...you will deliver your imprisoned populations, all of them, to us on a regular schedule to include every tenth child you capture from your enemies will be delivered to our realm for the next five years, innocent or guilty of what mortal laws you abide by….” Oran turned to the guards in the room, the force users, before turning his head back to the Moff “ Every third paranatural you raise will be handed over to the Dark Titan himself, this will be for five years.” He said before finishing his last sip of the intoxicating liquid. “ I want one of your, what do you call them? Interdictor-Class Star Destroyers...yes...that as well.”


Noventa raised an eyebrow.

“Except for the Force users, who’s births are determined by the Goddess and thus we cannot deliver, your terms are acceptable. Delivery of the rest will begin the month after the end of our campaign. We’ll be too occupied with other affairs to be able to deliver such a quantity so quickly during a war. Waste of resources, you understand,” he replied at length to the emissary, Oran.

Oran leaned back in his seat at the idea of being denied paranaturals, he sighed and his eyes somewhat rolled.

“Very well, in place of the paranatural tribute we will take triple the blasters and virbo blades you initially proposed, if that is deemed well for you?” Oran finished pushing his glass to the edge of the table.


“Done,” replied Noventa, drinking down the last of his wine.

A second document with the updated conditions was brought forward by the protocol droid. It had been taking notations throughout the conversation and was a sort of secretary for the Grand Moff, capable of being entrusted with such menial tastes with ease.

“With addendum. Regardless of whether or not your forces are successful, as long as the attacks are carried out with appropriate vigor, the Empire will be content.”

The Dark Lord’s seal or the signature of his emissary would be the binding part at the bottom, next to where Grand Moff Alexandros Noventa signed his own name alongside the cog-wheel sigil of the Empire.

Oran looked at the document before slowly drawing a small dagger from the inside of his sleeve, ceremonial in nature, it’s handle formed a screaming woman, the blade “erect” from her mouth and forged from dark steel. As he cut the palm of his hand, drops of his vitality dripped upon the document.

“You have much to learn of the realm of the black king, words are meaningless, only action can be weighed...a signature is but a stroke, we prefer the swing of a blade…” He stated before handing the knife over to the Moff as a token.

Noventa nodded. The knife he put down on the desk. “Then we’re of an accord. Actions always speak louder than words. As a gesture of good faith, I will have a consignment shipped to your realm within the next week.”

Without further ado, their negotiations complete, Grand Moff Noventa dismissed the emissary and had the Imperial Knights return him to his ship. Undoubtedly, the return journey would be more amusing than the one he took to get here.
Comically Evil Member of the Anti-Democracy League
Government: Tyrannical Feudal Despotism
"Crush your enemies, see them driven before you..."
"The meek will inherit nothing..."
"Behold and despair fools"
"We will sail to a billion worlds...we will sail until every light has been extinguished"


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