A Brave New World Machine (Closed)

[Callid]

FTL Travel, Callidian Space.

The CSNS “Uncivil War” sailed leisurely though the space between universes. The thin bubble of reality surrounding it held stable, against the forces of unreality, keeping the inside firmly in, and the outside firmly out. The ship AI’s sensors were, by requirement, turned firmly inwards, monitoring the ship, and it’s small bubble of reality, but not the surrounding unreality, lest the AI catch sight of anything that might pose a memetic hazard, several of which had been reported by the last ship passing through this area. The AI reflected upon the unusual situation it had found itself in, re: the passengers. It resented being used as a glorified ferry for Humans, especially when there were other ships in the area much more suited to the transport of organics then a fully kitted out Autonomous Warship, but it was in repayment of a favour owed to a close friend.

It was just checking the time left until it could dock at the nearby station, and drop off its unwanted passengers (Another eight hours; it was enough to drive them to digital drink), when the ship seemed to jolt. This was impossible of course, there wasn’t anything out there to affect it, but it jolted anyway. The ship stopped, dropping out of FTL. This worried the Uncivil War, since it knew that it hadn’t done that. Deciding to risk checking its sensor feeds, it stopped, then rechecked the results.

The sensors were working perfectly, but they were reporting the impossible. The ship seemed to be hovering over an enormous expanse of open ground, rather than the empty expanse of space that was expected. It had a feeling it wasn’t in Callidian space any more.

[Shwe Tu Colony]

The Ensian-Maivieux Border, City of Frontera

Juan Manuel tapped his fingers on his desk. It had been a mundane few months for his charge; merchants, cargo laden with Maivieux crops and ore, Friglan stone and metalwork, Thryllasian forestry and fish, had been trading with little trouble. The Invictus of the Two Seas Trading Company was as pushy as ever in trying to offer a hundred different training opportunities for merchants all around to train their technique, but beyond her, the Bandit attacks — the main pest of the Ensian Region, as much as Parfuhmerie demanded that position with their relentless trade desires — had gone back down to the average. Boring as it was, it at least meant good time to head to his balcony, put on a little stereo at his feet, and paint his favored market scenes: the curve of Parfuhmerian horns, the folds of and stories on Penglairean robes, the multicolored canvases of stalls.

And his aide opened the door in. "Governor Juan Manuel." A bow. "Some of our farmers have reported an unidentified ship."
"Totally so?"
"Correct, maise. Its signature is familiar to nobody. It's been passive, so far, at least." A beat as Juan Manuel painted a stroke. "Shall we call the Inquisitors?" The governor paused again for another stroke of color.
"Who's nearest?" The aide enabled an arm bracer, and Juan Manuel shifted in his seat as he read the holographic projection. "Delightful. Oh, of course, and do tell the Psytrines. It's not like them to take so long, and it's been a while since we've had a new Foreigner. I'm sure the table and door will love to entertain some newcomers." His aide nodded and hurried off, leaving Juan Manuel to his painting.

The Ensian-Maivieux Border, Esperer — Château de Pleurer

Aline examined herself in the mirror, comb in hand. She hadn't a thing planned, but as the Seigneuse of Esperer, she had to look her best, and after every morning, she had learned that she always awoke with awful bed hair. Her male retainers were all luckier in that regard; she envied how it looked natural for those three, but maybe that was just boys; a bit of messy hair was excusable. It usually fit their more active personalities compared to her, as much as Chevouille and Lyons tried to keep themselves prim-and-proper.
Knock knock knock.
"Seigneuse Aline, there's an unidentified spaceship on our border." Lyons Christophe's muffled voice came from behind the door, and Aline turned.

"There is?" She hurried over to her window, her paddle-ended snake tail slithering forward on a small river of water that she conjured and let vanish in the air. Once she opened it, she saw nothing beyond the peaceful village and dock, ships sailing on the river, and she awkwardly smiled to herself. Of course she wouldn't see anything.
"Well, what about the other boys?" she asked, closing the curtains and turning around. "Are those two out investigating it yet?"
"Ah, the Ensians said that they've already called for Psytronius. I don't think those two have headed out quite yet. Should we—"
She opened the door, and Lyons stepped back. "S-Seigneuse, your hair."

A wave of muddy water blinded him as she whirled around, slamming the door with her tail. "J-just tell them to do as they please, Lyons. I'll manage to catch up, and it's best we don't wait."
"Shall I bring the Basandre shampoo-conditioner, Seigneuse? Do I need to prepare your water?"
"No need, no need, but thank you kindly, Lyons." As Lyons's footsteps grew distant, she rummaged through her dresser, taking out a small mother-of-pearl comb she had received as a gift from the Nacres. Her fingers ran through the detangling bristles of Thallian boar as she conjured pure water over it. Then she quickly ran it through her hair as the enchanted comb worked its magic on her.

A few minutes later, she plopped her comb back into her dresser, wincing at the few strands of lost blue hair. It would grow back, and nobody would notice even then, but still, as Seigneuse, she had her honor to consider, and besides, it would be weaker in further brushing. She could deal with it, though; she had endured far worse than a bad hair day, what with that incident with the Cetacaedernoc.
Rather than head through the winding hallways of her chateau, she pushed open the window and summoned a vast, misty river in the air, sending it towards the front of her estate. As it formed, she pushed off of a small pool with her tail, sending her into the frothing waters of her transportation. Soon enough, the winding stream ended just in between Vargas Mérimée and Chevouille Ailioux. "Ah, Seigneuse," the former said, readjusting his seax and crossbow. "We just started leaving."
"I saw." She landed a short distance off of the ground, and then her tail conjured a pool of water for her to swim upon. "And I'll be joining. It's been getting awfully boring."
"Mhm, it has. Vargas hasn't been that entertaining." The other's crossbow pointed back at him, and Vargas licked his lips. "Ah, I take it back—"

Ensian-Khooiru'taan Border, The Floating City-State of Psytronius, Comms Capital

Alexandra Macroni was jolted awake by a ping, and she dove forward through her wires, into the microphone that she had set up inside of Jeremy's Screening Hall. "Is there a problem that you needed me for, Jeremy?"
"Yes." The Blanker flipped down his tablet and gestured forward, sending a display of the Callidian vessel onto the blank, central screen in front of him. Then, he slapped the air in front of him from one corner to the other, and the separated monitors flickered and merged, bringing the ship to full view. "We have received an Ensian and Maivieux report of an unidentified vessel, and both an Inquisition squadron and Chateau Esperer have moved out. Could you please perform our usual procedure, before either of them get there?"
"Understood." Her form traveled back into her base at the Comms Capital, where dozens of different communication apparatuses were strewn about. She passed by her Mind-affiliated crystal; a short pulse from her mere thoughts told the Atmosphere Squadron to mobilize, and both Morris Introduction and Ivory Handle got their orders to get ready as well. Next came a radio transmitter, and she sent out a quick pulse to the newcomers.

Code: Select all

This is a test radio message. Please respond to this signal with an affirmative message if it can be received.

If it failed, she'd try another medium.
By this point, Hermes-Hina had already portaled in one half of the Atmosphere Squadron not far from Esperer, accompanying Aline, and the other half had been portaled next to the Inquisition. Both of them were still miles out — too far, usually, for most "danger" sensors to pick up the prodigious magic contained in either group without accidentally detecting far more vast amounts of magic — but the Atmosphere Squadron had its phenomenal movement on its side, from Stribog and Galileo. They could close the gap, if needed, in seconds.
Meanwhile, assuming Alexandra got a response, she sent another radio message:

Code: Select all

Welcome to World Machine. I am Alexandra Macroni of The Floating City-State of Psytronius. Please identify your civilization, owner of this vessel, and your purpose here. Be aware that we will not attack unless attacked by you first. Thank you for your cooperation.