Empire 8: Arkhive Banquet

[Lumaeus]

🐝A.P.I.S. Presents🐝
The First Hexenniel Conference for the Liberation of Knowledge and Fostering of Growth in Sansar

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I did a lot of things here, friendos, so I'm spoilering the bits with what's in them. The important one, gamewise, is the Charter, really. It's how you get stuff from me. The other stuff is for rp and interactions tho. Which is kinda the fun part. I wish I could space posting things out, but if it's not all up at once, something will come up for someone meaning they miss the one thing they would most enjoy, yknow?

Sub-Action: Grant all attendees my Xenolinguistic starting tech!


Queen Constance of Comment the First has been planning the first convention of the Arkhival Patronage Interregional Summit for longer than she's been alive. Or, rather, previous Queens had conceived the idea, and so upon their mellification it had passed into the Hive-mind. It was from these ancestral memories, transmitted to her first in Royal Jelly and revealed more and more in her daily Honeyed Words that Constance had discovered and perfected the plan. And the time had never been more ripe.

The Emperor had elevated the Arkhive to the interplanetary stage, but in the same sweeping largesse had empowered what seemed at first blush to be somewhat less research-motivated polities. Alone, the Arkhive was a helpless target, but by weaving a wider web of alliance and interdependence, perhaps other powers would guard it. And so it came to pass that Arkhival Patronage Interregional Summit was conceived.

At the order of her Arkhival Majesty, long tables, single pieces carved from the frozen stone of the frigid isle outside of the Arkhive, have been placed in the shade of the four great trees which mark Coedd's blessing. Here, in the sacred park in the heart of the Royal Face of the vault's hexagon, the ancient bounties of the planet have been richly laid out for visitors. Long forgotten fruits and vegetables pile high, looking like a feast straight outta Redwall. Tomatoes the size of a human head, purple with flavor; parsnips the size of daikon radishes and tasting like dirt-but-in-that-good-way-that-root-vegetables-are-all-kinda-soily recline fibrously; cabbages with such intricate leafwork that they might look decorative if they weren't so delicious; and many apple varietals lost to the world, including Empire apples which are simply the best, all are up for grabs. Every visitor is encouraged as well to consult with an elderly Technician named MacDonald from 630, who once had a farm and now would gladly share cuttings and tips with those who hope to bring back forgotten plants to the world above.

Bees buzz lazily all around, keeping a respectful distance from all visitors, but charging the air with dynamism. Their blessings are on rich display, from the ample tureens of honey on every table to the mead which flows like water. There's also water. And let's throw in non-alcoholic mead, since we're being friendly. All the utensils are wax and honeycomb. In its unspecifically long don't worry about it history, the Arkhive has managed to master tempering and treating these precious materials to give them surprising strength. They sure ain't sturdy, but they serve and are technically edible. Don't eat them. You can. It's not great. Try it out. You can spit it out if you want, we won't judge.


As the assembled assemble into one great assembly, Her Arkhival Majesty. Queen Constance of Comment the First, stands before everyone.
"Honored guests, co-planetaries, visiting dignitaries from honored polities across the star-system, functionaries of the Emperor of Ophon, ineffable plant-goddess of Dewlad--whatever title each of you bears, we hope through this conference, first of many, to subsume that honorific into the greatest we know: friend. We welcome you to our humble Arkhive and invite you after this banquet to explore our twelve Faces, to browse our research, to consult with our experts. Your lodging is provided for and all that we have to offer is yours. Unless you visit Milk & Honey, the local houses of worship cսm tea shops which are legally distinct from the Arkhive and whose anti-union activities we neither sanction nor have the means to oppose. Whether it be for the conference, the season, or indefinitely, please feel welcome to walk our halls as no less than one of us.

"[THIS PART OF THE SPEECH WOULD RECOGNIZE VISITING DIGNITARIES AND ANY GIFTS BROUGHT ETC. SO PRETEND YOU'RE MENTIONED HERE. I HOPE TO EDIT IT IN BUT THE NATURE OF A FORUM GAME IS SUCH THAT I HAVE TO KINDA ASYCHRONICIZATIFY IT A LITTLE FORGIVE ME I LOVE YOU ALL]

"The occasion of our banquet is one of opening, one of joining the Arkhive to the good labors of all lands, in hope of joint advancement in an era of new gains for all mortal creatures--and for the immortals above us," she nods towards whatever the heck kinda manifestation Coedd has (the trees themselves, maybe?). "The Arkhive will open its secrets and its resources to the system--and even more than that, as you will see. After we've eaten, of course. Fear not, I know something of hunger. Only one last prelude: would anyone else speak to those gathered, and hold our food hostage from us just a little longer?" The Queen laughs, clearly in good humor.

Room is given for other speeches if anyone desires, and plenty of time will be available at and after dinner for general socializing. Any race with particular food needs do have their diets well met, and dessert is a truly magnificent treat: beyond the honeyed sweets, each official dignitary is allowed a thimbleful of Royal Jelly, a direct window into past memory and a panacea that in sufficient quantities can freeze even the ravages of time. Go wild with any descriptions you want if you use it for anything--it's magic nonsense.



As dinner is cleared away, after the park has eased into a pleasantly fatted repose, the Queen excuses herself from the latest table she's found the excuse to chat with and begins her final speech.

"I forecasted that the resources of the Arkhive would be open to you, and that is the case. Our knowledge is for all. Our treasures, as we accrue them, will be, at least initially, for those near us. Our services," and here the Queen smiles with the pleasure of one last moment of holding onto a gift for a friend, "Will be awarded by the will of the Hive."

(tl;dr of what follows) Here, the Queen lays out the concept of Patronage, the system by which the Arkhive will dedicate much of its capacity in the service of other states. Those who pledge non-aggression towards the Arkhive will be protected always against unwanted action by it, and by this, the Queen fosters safety. However, whoever does the most for the Arkhive every six years will control half of the Arkhive's actions. I'm making an artifact to improve this as well. (Initially just) Sansarites also get to change the rules of the Arkhive in a big game of Nomic.


Immutables
-Every odd round, the Arkhive will hold a Hexenniel Conference to select a Patron, determined by the Points System (see below).
-There are two tiers of Membership: Local Members (for residents of Sansar) and Visiting Members (for everyone else).
-Should a Visiting Member be awarded Patronage OR complete and maintain a Hive (5-action GP), they will permanently be considered Local, so long as they retain Membership.
-Members' holdings shall be held as inviolable to the Library, subject to no interference.
-The Arkhive's holdings shall be held as inviolable to Members, subject to no interference.
-The Arkhive shall devote half of its capacity in service of its Patron (2 actions on odd round, 3 on evens).
-The Arkhive cannot use Military actions nor maintain a standing army (but we're ignoring the unit we start with because it'd be a hassle to deal with--we rebuke the fiction and substitute our own!).
-The Arkhive is a place of refuge; anyone swearing themselves to scholarship is welcome in its walls, regardless of their past.
-The Arkhive is subject always to public oversight; it will never take a secret action
-The Arkhive reserves all E5s and D5s that it may better distribute Trade Routes and Embassies, as well as its first F5 and F10. Additionally, should the Arkhive ever do that thing to get a new civ type and another action what's that called again I forgot, it reserves that one action as well--feel free to ask in advance about it if worried.


Mutables
-Research produced or acquired by the Arkhive (including techs) is to be freely disseminated to all Members without discrimination.
-Physical holdings (including artifacts) are to be loaned out for three years at a time to Local Members.
-Members of the Arkhive hold joint responsibility for recovering overdue and stolen items and holdings (including TPs and Supports*)
-Failure to return a borrowed item by its due date incurs a fine of two (2) Treasure. A further borrowing period overdue will result in revocation of Membership and extraction of reparations as determined appropriate by all remaining Members and the Librarians.
-At their sole discretion, the Queen can forgive fines and pardon misstep.
-The Arkhive accepts all donations.
-Trade Routes will be distributed freely among Members, preferencing Local Members and those offering more generous donations (points system).
-Cultural Exchanges will be distributed freely among Members, preferencing Local Members and those offering more generous donations (points system).
-At each Hexenniel Conference, the current Patron and the Queen may each submit a proposal to add, remove, or alter a single mutable point of this charter.
-Proposals to change the Charter are only confirmed by a 2/3rds majority of voting Local Members.

*I don't expect to have any interest in supports unless a hostile power takes the Arkhive's capital supports

Points System: (Note, this is crunch, but IC it's just the Will of the Bees. Not mutable or immutable, just an enumeration of how the Hive chooses to crown you.)
Provide our Desired Import: 2pts/round (available to every civ that does it, even if the need is already met)
Submit a piece of your culture's literature for Arkhival: 1pt (max 1/rd)
Submit a history for Arkhival: 1pt (max 1/rd)
Submit a theo/mythological or philosophical work for Arkhival: 1pt (max 1/rd)
Recover a lost item from the Arkhive's holdings (returning late items absolutely doesn't count, loophole nerdz): 10pts
Submit the results of an Investigation for Arkhival: 2pts
Submit a technology not yet held by the Arkhive: 2pts for starting tech, 5pts for all others (simultaneous submissions are both rewarded)
Donate an Artifact to the Arkhive: 10pts
Donate Treasure to the Arkhive: 1pt/ea
Build a Hive (5-action GP, you may use the Arkhive's actions for this as Patron): 2pts/turn ongoing, Donor Status
Mechanical figure (or retired Ruler) joins the Arkhive: 3pts
Fluff piece describing influx of your people joining the Arkhive OR an individual described to be noteworthy (such as a great scholar) joining the Arkhive OR a scholar of the Arkhive joining your people: 1 pt (max 1/rd)

Points accrue until the end of a Conference. At the end of the round, the civ with the highest total is awarded the status of Patron. They return to 0 points. Second place is awarded five points to start the next round. Third receives four, fourth receives three, and so on. Ties for Patron are decided between the tied parties, and if they fail to come to an agreement, they roll off. All other ties will both receive the higher point total.



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[Kythia]

On this occasion the “ambassador” from Coedd has taken a somewhat simplified version of their normal form. Imagine a birch tree that, when squinted at, looks like a person. That split trunk could be legs that branch there and the one on the other…no, the one next to it, yeah that one, they could be considered arms. And I guess that makes all that greenery green hair? Normally, Coedd goes to the trouble to craft a face, finding meat reacts to it better. As this avatar isn’t expected to be needed for long, though, only a half hearted attempt has been made. Squashed, malformed features that approximate grossly deformed facial features, sufficiently different from normal features as to not approach the uncanny valley. Again, likely as a result of the expected short life expectancy, this avatar cannot speak. While voice boxes are well within Coedd’s capability to grow, the accompanying need to bring in gas regularly, store it, release it in controlled bursts over the voice box etc and so forth mean that shorter term avatars normally rely on a translator.

Padraig Doine, in this case. In his original home of the Reserve he was likely considered scrawny, here amongst the librarians of the Arkhive he is one of the most physical. A fairly talented linguist he is too young to have been of the original translators of Coedd’s pheromone signalling but is one of the shining lights of this next generation who have grown up with the basics already worked out. He carries a portable chemical analyser on a loop round his neck and, when first encountered is stood between the walking tree - who has no visible expression - and a female member of the Imperial delegation who looks bored and nigh desperate for an escape:

“...really interesting you see. Because the speech is chemical traces, previous words and sentences hang around. So, like, while you or I might say something like ‘as I said earlier’ Coedd - that’s the name of their language as well as their, well, everything else - Coedd has this specific chemical marker that attaches to that previous chemical trail and highlights it. So its like if I wrote everything down and instead of saying ‘as I said earlier’ I just pointed at the thing I said…oh, OK, well, hopefully we can speak again soon.”

With an almost-certainly-fake excuse, she had made her escape.

[Epinephrine_Syn]

"Really?"
"Yes, we're here to learn about the outsiders. Especially you. Your education is important."
"And you think I'm not smart?"
"Why settle for merely smart?"
"..."


Laid down upon the docking bay, or lack thereof, came a ship. Something small and portable for the planet, but looking quite sleek and advanced. A few delegates came out, all looking human, the Moonmen were a half dozen strong and seeming utterly calm and charmed. At the center were two people in particular.

First, Serenity, the golden haired ruler of beauty, come to investigate in her formal dresses and gowns, shackled up with something pretty on every odd and end, tons of crystals that gleamed in the twilight.

Second, a small child who couldn't have been over five, walking upright and looking pouty, sporting a top hat and a formal set of rags as if she were out of a steampunk era. Somewhere between scrappy and fashionably crafted.

They have nothing to say, although the child abruptly breaks into childlike wonder at all the newest fads and people, rushing over to look at them even if not initiating conversation herself, with the larger Serenity in tow practically running afterwards and making sure that excitable girl doesn't cause mischief. One who you could never have guessed was pouting mere moments ago.

[Silent_Interim]

The Imperial delegation is... surprisingly understated. Three Courtiers attend, a High Lord and his two apprentices, a young woman looking terribly bored and a young man seeming sullen to the point of farce. All wear flowing green robes with gold embroidery around the edges, but where the High Lord makes this look comfortable and elegant, the two younger delegates seem uncomfortable in robes that seem not to quite fit.

The High Lord approaches Padraig Doine and claps his shoulder in a friendly, avuncular way. A warm smile splits his weathered, laugh-line creased face. "You will have to forgive my grand-daughter. If it isn't magic, she isn't interested. I have made something of a study of xenolinguistics, though. I'd be fascinated to hear your opinions as an expert in your field."

The young man and woman sulk both sulk in a corner, somehow contriving to convey through body language alone that although they are in the same corner, they are not sulking together. The effect is very teenage in a way that seems to show that both think it is very grown-up.

[Feathersnow]

《《Your Queen would see this for herself. She has traveled this far.》》

The Hammer, on her coppery golem palanquin, is carried to the feast, surrounded by a half dozen Workers and led by a Worker with the telltale hat of a Herald, carried by rotors. They do not sit, their prosthetics not equipped for it.

As the floor is opened, the Herald floats to the podium...

I speak for she who is called The Hammer: It is a joy and an honor to be invited to return to Sansar, and to be included in this convocation. The Glix people came from here long ago, and fled durance vile, but there are those amongst us who remember our roots. I hope this is the beginning of a long and prosperous relationship.


In the spirit of sharing, I offer these instructional Ikons that can indoctrinate the user in the art of Lepkashramov

I gift all attendees Arcane Amplification. Anyone sharing in kind would be appreciated.

Afterwards, he flies back. The apparently vegetarian Arkhivists seem to have failed to account for the wholy carnivorous Glix inability to eat about half of the food made available, but they can digest the softer fruits, and the Workers dig in, while the Herald feeds The Hammer.

[Kythia]

"You will have to forgive my grand-daughter. If it isn't magic, she isn't interested. I have made something of a study of xenolinguistics, though. I'd be fascinated to hear your opinions as an expert in your field."

“High Lord!” A slight mournfulness at the girl leaving was overtaken by the excitement of an expert invited to talk about his field. “I’m sure I’d be honoured to explain. The first thing you have to realise is that the language isn’t like other languages. It’s more like an internal body communication. Your brain sends to signals to your hand” he clenches and unclenches his fist a couple of times to demonstrate “ - the Coedd language is basically derived from that. Internal, intrabody communication that we’ve learnt to translate and they’ve learnt to control. It really is fascinating. The other…”

He’s interrupted by a beeping from the analyser round his neck.

“OK, so let’s see. That’s…oh, you’ll like this.” He turns the box so the High Lord can see the readout. “See this string here” he taps four peaks, saying in turn: “Carbon. Oxygen. Ethanol. Paired deuterium. That’s where the name comes from, you see. See, Oh, Ee, two Dee’s. Coedd. It’s from the chemical string they use to…anyway let’s see. Acknowledgement-of situation…not-Coedd.. Right, so you have to understand you can’t really be formal in Coedd. Because it’s the equivalent of nerve signals - you can’t send a ‘formal’ or ‘informal’ message from your brain to your hand can you. Well, it’s the same. So all that’s really said is that Coedd acknowledges you are here. But, honestly, they rarely bother to acknowledge the existence of animal life so it probably is intended as respectful. As” he flushes and bows, a little deeper than protocol demands “do I. Apologies, High Lord, for my lack of formality. Here at the Arkhive we value knowledge and sometimes forget other things are important.

[Silent_Interim]

The High Lord chuckles. "Please, no need to stand on ceremony with me. Some of my colleagues prefer to keep rigidly to protocol, but you may call me Nasir." He pats the young librarian's shoulder again. "Convey for me, if you would, an acknowledgment in return. I must circulate, see and be seen, but I hope I will be able to hear more of this later."

[Volthawk]

Given that it was (on the same planet as the Reserve, anyway - thinking in that scale was taking some adjustment for many of the Dhaoine) the first major meeting of Elect members, Eilif Dhaoine takes the matter of the Hexenniel Conference quite seriously, and decides that a show of strength is the best way to go around it. With that in mind, the Dhaoine delegation numbers close to twenty, a dozen lannan accompanying a handful of sealga (seeming to be in two groups) and the single actual diplomatic representative of the country, Scorcha of Deargabh, the...well, some among the Dhaoine were calling her the heir to Eilif Dhaoine, but that wasn't quite accurate - while her father was the current man on top in the Reserve, nothing in the agremeents that bound the city-states that made up the alliance that was Eilif Dhaoine said that leadership would fall along family lines. However, it was also true that many of those who currently backed her father seemed likely to also back here, so she would be the likely candidate should Clagath fall in battle or have to step down.

Besides numbers the striking thing about the group is their attire, each made up in some part of chitincraft. It's most obvious for the lannan, of course, a force apparently entirely made up of humans (it's hard to tell under all that armour, but Reserve demographics show a large human majority) and wearing more or less uniform armour, covering their entire body and a little bulky-looking, with glossy black chitin from an ant-like making up most of the smooth surfaces of their armour and their helmets built to resemble an ant's head. Their main weapons appear to be firearms, with most of them carrying a fairly compact ballistic weapon, but each also carries a melee weapon on their belt, which look very much like they took half of an insect's mandible and stuck a handle on it (and then made it look a little more presentable, of course - to the Reserve's artisans, even the lannan deserved wargear that looked impressive) and that isn't particularly far from the truth. As the delegration enters, after a few moments in formation alongside Scorcha for the sake of first impressions, the lannan split up, with a pair taking up positions either side of the main entrance while four others split up and fan out across the park - after all, it was becoming increasingly clear that the Arkhive simply...didn't have much in the way of warriors or even guards, so the lannan take it upon themselves to keep an eye on proceedings. Of the remaining six, two move over to the sealga, splitting up to keep an eye on the two groups, while the remaining four, including the commander.

The commander himself, once he's satisfied listening to his team on the comms, experiments a little with some buttons on a bracer keypad before murmuring something back to them. If anyone at that point approaches and asks what the button pressing was all about, the answer from the leader of the lannan is quite mundane - it was just putting in the right settings so their armour's environmental controls brought things inside the suit to a comfortable state in this temperature (the system was built to deal with the need for heavier armour than would normally be sensible in a hot, humid jungle environment, but it turned out that it worked to keep you warm just as well). Not that they needed to do much here - even though they're in the frozen north of Sansar, the hives themselves seemed quite capable of making things pleasant indoors. Apart from that, he seems content staying with the table, sitting by Scorcha's side and mentally weighing up whether it'd be better to join in the meal or keep helmeted up, his indecision showing through a little despite the helmet.

The two groups of sealga, meanwhile, peel off pretty immediately after getting into the park, wandering about as the whim strikes them. Their attire is a little more...ecclectic than the lannan - some seem to be wearing their field gear, tough and hard-wearing with chitincraft clearly designed for practical use in key places, while others are takier a showier approach, with their chitincraft tending towards impressive trophies made from their individual kills or the clothing known in the Reserve sgia-loinn, glistening and shimmering coats made from many tiny linked chitin pieces taken from small bàscail with suitably irridescent bodies. Compared to the discipline shown by the lannan, the sealga are much more casual and irregular, but there's still obviously a pecking order there - if anyone's done their research on the Dhaoine, they might know that sealga have their own subculture and internal status, and if they had to had to guess, what they were looking at were two high-ranking sealga, each with a few hangers-on (whether out of respect, trying to share in their peer's glory, or some other reason). And the lannan assigned to babysit them, of course.

One of the two groups ends up gravitating towards the Glix, drawn towards the strangeness and a little entertained by the trouble they seem to be having with the food. Their leader, a tall woman dressed for the field, walks up to them and clears her throat. "Hey, if you're having trouble with that, I can help. Should have some meat back on the boat, nailed one of the swimming buggers on the way here. Wouldn't be hard to drag it down here and get some cuts for you." The two sealga following her stay a few steps back, not really sure what to make of the whole thing. The other group, meanwhile, simple beelines (pun unintended) for the tables laden with food and dig in, loudly talking and joking amongst themselves and complimenting the quality of the food while the lannan accompanying them somehow exudes expaseration despite his helmet hiding his face.

And then of course there's Scorcha herself, who has to handle the actual diplomacy of the occasion. Much like some of the sealga, she's dressed in sgia-loinn that takes on a glistening red in the light of the park's light, but unlike them she hasn't chosen to pair them with chitincraft trophies or weaponry. She listens to the Queen's speech respectfully, nodding when the Dhaoine are recognised, and when the opportunity is given to speak she follows up the Herald's speech with a short message of her own. "I am unsure how well the rest of you on Sansar have been able to get to know each other over the years that we on the Reserve were still isolated, but for us you are all quite new, and we know little about you all. I hope that we are able to rectify that in the coming years, and ensure that our people's respective ambitions do not cause undue conflict. Sansar is about to undergo a period of change, I'm sure we're all aware of this, but it is down to us how painful that change is. That is all." With that, she steps down again and goes to sample the full variety of what's on offer, before speaking with MacDonald in the hopes of acquiring as many of the plants on offer as possible, explaining that a large amount of the food eaten in the Reserve comes from arrays of vertical farms within their cities, and more variety will be well-recieved by her countrymen.

After the feast, once she's able to hear the explanation of the Patronage system and hear what the Queen is planning to do, she sits quietly for a few minutes, digesting the information and coming to a decision. "The system is agreeable to the Dhaoine. I'm willing to accept a non-agression agreement, and as far as contributions to your accumulated knowledge is concerned, I have a few ideas there as well. Are there any expectations that we should defend you, should some group or other - whether one of us here or an outsider - attack you? I couldn't help but notice a lack of much security here."


Okay, so mechanically I'm doing three things here.

First of all, giving out In Vivo Modification to anyone who wants it, taking every tech offered, standard tech party stuff.

Secondly, I'm submitting A Sealga's Guide to Sansar for Arkhival as a piece of the Reserve's literature. It's not ready yet, but it's the thing I talked about in Sansar chat where I was writing up a continent by continent guide to who's who and what's what on Sansar, although I lost that draft so I'll be working from zero again - which actually works out for the best because I didn't start it intending for it to be an IC post (so I can be IC from the start now) and now we have the tables and know what areas are explored or not and I can work those into the piece. So yeah, fluff piece for Lumaeus' archives and hopefully a useful summary of how things look in Sansar from an in-universe perspective.

Thirdly, as Lumaeus said it was possible, I'l l submit whatever I end up doing for Mytho-Historical Data Gathering here as a historical piece. Haven't decided what it'll be yet, but probably some kind of monster story.

I might also do the influx of people thing, not sure yet. To some extent, it kinda makes sense that people would use their new freedom of movement to GTFO and leave the Reserve to go to safer places, and the Arkhive fits pretty well, but it's not a particularly strong thought yet. Stick a pin in it for now, but I figured it was worth mentioning as a possibility.

[Lumaeus]

A NOTE: Just to get it on the forum, yes. We accept fluff used for org stuff. You can double dip. Do it!

The Queen is abuzz with delight at her visitors, the keen mind pleased that all is going to plan pairing gladly with the gregarious host, flitting from table to table.

TO ALL, IN THE WAKE OF SCORCHA'S SPEECH
The Queen nods gravely at her guest's assessment.

"We do not enjoy the population nor the temperment to mount a large defense if any polity were to level their cannons against us. We would pray for intervention from our friends and reward it within our powers. We are not, however, without any might. The bees themselves are sensitive to the needs of the Hive, and while nothing in the face of an army, if a false delegation at a future conference were to attempt violence, I expect peace to be swiftly restored.

"Further, we have hope in a power beyond ourselves." Here, she nods towards Padraig Doine. "We have made increasing strides in communication with the being called Coedd. Some--including many tens of thousands in this very Hive--worship her as divine, but even a secular perspective will see her as a being of great power. Coedd is a panfloric being whose mind, as it were, and attention, as it were, stretches across great swathes of the planet and seems by our scholars to be waxing. We would gladly share our research on her, especially that of Garrick Mynqvist the five hundred eightieth. Very recently, her attentions have brought self-generating flower crowns and...interestingly detailed intelligence reports to those who pledge themselves to her. We do not stand alone.

"That is all to say, while we do not have the means to demand defense, we seek peace and offer our unflinching assistance to those who join us. And we remain confident that should a dark day come, we can count on your largesse. Shall we issue you a library card?"

MOONMEN
"You bless us with your attendance, Serenity! Your Highness, if you care to keep to popular convention, though you will forgive me for being uncertain of your local forms of address. Please forgive me; it is with a host's deference and with enormous respect that I am honored to meet in person one who has so well made those first impossible strides into a new and better future for a people rich in every virtue and beset by complications unknown by so many of us. I hope your journey was every inch the pleasure that befits one of your stature." Constance is a constant motion, clasping her hands warmly before her, inclining her head, never still. Only then does she look towards the child. "I'm afraid I do not recognize your young companion. Would you grace me with an introduction?"

IMPERIAL FOLKS
Queen Constance of Comment walks with the straightbacked dignity of monarchy towards the Imperial Delegation. She smiles warmly at the youths in their sulk, "It is a joy to have you. Let me know if you need anything." before offering Nasir what will be, if accepted, a sharp, firm handshake.

"Twice favored is great honor. That the Emperor has donated to us his engines brought a paradigmatic shift in the scale at which the Arkhive can operate, and that we now are graced with imperial functionaries proves truly that we are securely in his eye. You are of course welcome to anything you need here in the Arkhive, but..." she lowers her voice. "If your attendance is oriented towards business, I must confess that our financial position is entirely unclear. The bounty of our situation coupled with our relatively low population has meant financial bookkeeping has been allowed to slip in favor of a deeper focus on the scholarly understanding of bookkeeping in itself. I've placed our best mind, Jan the Ever-Ill, on the task, but it may be some years before we fully calculate our position, our debts owed, and determine our ability to pay. Taxes will be forthcoming, but no power in the Hive can bring them immediately. I hope that will not darken this visitation?"

GLIX
I see your post but I need to message and wait for a reply from another player. I would be amused if something worked out. All fluff, all friendly. Sorry for delay.

SCORCHA
Demi Perse, the six hundred thirty-first and fifty eight hundredths, is a teeny little woman about as thick as she is tall. Inexplicably always equipped with straw in her mouth, she thumbs her overall straps as she helps elderly Macdonald ready the cases of cuttings and seeds.

"I reckon y'all could use a little help coaxing summa these sprouts to grow. They ain't gonna like the change in climate, but they sure would have a fair shot if y'all had someone who knew them like old Mac here." She winks before saying. "I mean me. How's about you take me back with y'all and I'll help get these started? And maybe see about gettin' myself some of them fancy bugshells y'all're wearin'?"

[Silent_Interim]

Queen Constance of Comment walks with the straightbacked dignity of monarchy towards the Imperial Delegation. She smiles warmly at the youths in their sulk, "It is a joy to have you. Let me know if you need anything." before offering Nasir what will be, if accepted, a sharp, firm handshake.

"Twice favored is great honor. That the Emperor has donated to us his engines brought a paradigmatic shift in the scale at which the Arkhive can operate, and that we now are graced with imperial functionaries proves truly that we are securely in his eye. You are of course welcome to anything you need here in the Arkhive, but..." she lowers her voice. "If your attendance is oriented towards business, I must confess that our financial position is entirely unclear. The bounty of our situation coupled with our relatively low population has meant financial bookkeeping has been allowed to slip in favor of a deeper focus on the scholarly understanding of bookkeeping in itself. I've placed our best mind, Jan the Ever-Ill, on the task, but it may be some years before we fully calculate our position, our debts owed, and determine our ability to pay. Taxes will be forthcoming, but no power in the Hive can bring them immediately. I hope that will not darken this visitation?"

The High Lord returns the handshake, equally firm. "Please, if there is any honor to be had here, it is mine. Your work is a grand one, truly. But I am not here for anything so... vulgar. It is simply an opportunity for me to get to know the people I will be working with, in my career at the Imperial Embassy, and begin forming relationships to move forward from. And, well, I had hoped to socialize my grandchildren, but ah. Youth is such bitter fruit, no?"

[Lt-Murgen]

Senior Advisor Quinn Emery Kai Rene and 4 of their companions had made the long journey to the Arkhive Aeternal. They were not pleased with the assignment. Non-human species were temperamental at best, ultra-threat at worst. The Chairperson themselves briefed them on this particular mission. "Knowledge knows no provenance, information bears no taint". The refrain was drilled into them as when they took their Advisory Vows, and reinforced quite forcefully during the Interface. But they had to admit the initial impression was positive. Being one of the more voracious vegetarians in the dispatched subcommittee, their stomach could scarce contain its enthusiasm for the buffet.
They held hands with one of their sub-advisors for a few moments as they entered the hall. Biomesh interface allowed them to communicate the directive to secure cuttings and discuss aquaponic growth issues. The remainder were dispatched with similar contact-directives as the Senior Advisor made their way into the throng.

At the appropriate point in the Queen’s Speech
When it was their turn, the Senior Advisor approached. They were a tall, thin, bald-headed human. Dressed simply with a long ultra-black vest over a teal bodysuit. The sleeves had been removed, exposing more of their chestnut colored, luminescent tattoo-covered arms. Beneath the myriad of abstract and swirling markings one might discern the pulsing bio-mesh of their kind.

“I am Senior Advisor Quinn Emery Kai Rene, selected representative of Lucas Oliver James Mellus Tristan, Chairperson of the United Neural Networks Confounding Limitless Exigency. The Chairperson instructed me to express the gratitude of the entire Board and of our elected government. A new age is pushed its first tendrils out of the dust of the past. It will be for the wise and temperate to foster it to proper fruition.”

They paused and signaled to a sub-advisor. As their gift was brought over, they mused for a moment about the accuracy of the script-writer. Clearly, plant growth was a good metaphor for the bugs.

“We would be grateful if you would accept this modest device.” She indicated a faceted glass sphere, roughly the same diameter as the width of their torso. Inside, it pulsed and swirled with a kalidescope of colors, extending well into the infra-red and ultraviolet ranges.

“A simple construction, it utilizes sound pressure to create the colorful, ever-changing patterns. In such a unique environment as this, the harmonious buzzing will certainly empower endless display.”

Later,
Senior Advisor Quinn will confirm that U.N.N.C.L.E. will adopt a policy of neutrality towards the Arkhive. Perhaps, in the future, other joint ventures may be discussed.


Earlier than later,

The High Lord chuckles. "Please, no need to stand on ceremony with me. Some of my colleagues prefer to keep rigidly to protocol, but you may call me Nasir." He pats the young librarian's shoulder again. "Convey for me, if you would, an acknowledgment in return. I must circulate, see and be seen, but I hope I will be able to hear more of this later."

Quinn kept a polite distance between the High Lord and the tree-being. Animals, and now plants. It was getting hard to take the universe seriously. Still, the information around phermonic communication was interesting. As the high lord stepped away, they approached the librarian. “Please, do continue. Internal biochemical information transmission sounds fascinating. Our Bio-electric Mediators can manipulate chemical processes within the human body, so perhaps there is an application of our skill in communication here.”

Another later,


In the spirit of sharing, I offer these instructional Ikons that can indoctrinate the user in the art of Lepkashramov [/color]

At some point the Senior Advisor approached the Glix delegation. They kept their thoughts neutral, even though this was yet another non-human pod.
”Herald. U.N.N.C.L.E graciously accepts your offer of knowledge of your marvelous constructs. In some ways, they seem very similar to our bio-mesh. Both allow for manipulation of energies beyond what conventional science would seem to allow. At this time, however, we cannot share our version. It was developed specifically for our kind. Decades of simulations have not found a safe methodology for adaptation yet. Perhaps this is something our two species can work on in the future.
OOC- I will be looking at a faith 5 to be able to adapt it to other species at some point

Another, another later:


And then of course there's Scorcha herself, who has to handle the actual diplomacy of the occasion. Much like some of the sealga, she's dressed in sgia-loinn that takes on a glistening red in the light of the park's light, but unlike them she hasn't chosen to pair them with chitincraft trophies or weaponry.

Senior Advisor Quinn approached Scorcha at some point during the event. []”Your delegation is quite impressive. I understand your people have faced the xeno-biological threats with great hardship. It is encouraging to see humanity overcoming and thriving. It is remarkable how similar our histories are. Our threats being more environmental than biological, of course. It is of great interest to our Board that your people claim to exhibit some minor magical powers. We Kinfolk have been developing ours for some time.”
The advisor closed her eyes for a moment and waved their hand. The din of the banquet faded from Scorcha’s ears. Quinn’s voice was now barely a whisper, yet Scorcha could hear it a clearly as if the Advisor was shouting. ”I have some skill in multiple 2-Body craft, but am most practiced with the Boyelian School. Sound is simply complex fluid pressure waves, after all. It is a matter of application to dampen their amplitude, or enhance a particular series of waves for greater clarity.” Quinn squeezed their hand and then gave a quick release with a loud crackling noise that started a few of the bee drones and sent them hurrying away.
”My apologies, but energy cannot be created or destroyed, so the equations had to be balanced.

“Perhaps this is something we can work on in the future. Currently, our technology is limited to implantation into humans at puberty. We have struggled to ensure proper interface to bloodlines we have not thoroughly mapped. Perhaps this is something our two human branches can work with in the future. Your generous gift of your in-vivo modification techniques will certainly speed the process.
OOC- because our tech is wrapped up in our faith, they generally do not share. But I do plan on a faith5 organization of my religion next round. After that, if you allow a holy site conversion, I would gift it for free.

[Corona]

The Kanite delegation arrives, an orderly column of people in sober but nonetheless pretty dress. They wear metal-embroidered jackets and fur coats over puffy white shirts and corduroy trousers. The procession is centered around a palanquin carried by four people all the way up to the tables, from which a person, the current Priest of Ophon, descends. It is hard to make out any judgements of their age, sex and the like, as their body is almost buried in the many folds of alternating layers of blue and green fabric they are wearing, and they have a mesh veil over their face. They almost look like some sort of otherwordly deity levitating over the ground.

This impression is ruined somewhat when Priestess Zelena Tanchitsa (as she introduces herself) speaks in a weak, fairly high-pitched voice, and bids servants carry the ends of her dress and gifts. Tanchitsa bows to Queen Constance and presents to her the gifts: ancient books found in archaeological sites, tiny dumplings with salty sauces - a traditional dish of Kan, 3D models of Kanite spaceships and landmark buildings, most notably the helical DNA Tower, etc.
"Let the lights shine upon our nations' common path, O Queen. A true feast you have welcomed us with. I... I mean, the people of Kan are pleased to make your acquaintance. We shall repay your kindness with kindness, and do no harm to you. The gifts we've brought are but a fragment of our culture, there are literal mountains of these ancient baubles in Kan; we understand the Arkhive might be interested in that as a research- and preservation-based entity."



After she speaks with the Queen, Tanchitsa makes for the food, starved from the longest journey in her life. The Priestess of Ophon was not subject to rationing of any kind, but she is tired-starved. She wants to refresh her body and mind with the honey she could smell from the moment they moored at the dock. She eats in a complicated way, making sure she doesn't lift her veil by accident and that it appears like she is making the food disappear like a magician instead of consuming it like a normal person. Not to mention the servant who puts all the food on her plate instead of herself.

The priestess tries the Royal Jelly, which lifts her mood - visibly, despite the veil and all. She orders a purple pillow bearing a box made of a dark wood brought forth, and starts hollering for people to come closer and know their destiny. Her servants ensure that an orderly queue is formed toward the bench the Priestess is sitting on.

Captain Mech from the White Pawns, the highest ranking military commander on this mission, wearing a ceremonial uniform with many medals that announce her status, exchanges worried looks with subordinates and diplomatic staff standing around. The ambassador Ian Sladkor responds: "Eh, let her have it. She's doing what she is meant to do here, at any rate."
Cpt. Mech clicks her tongue. "Very well, but I'd hate for our country to be represented by this silliness. The nations of Sansar should know who the White Pawns are before we come knocking at their door in the service of another..."

[MappyPK]

A pair of Arkhivists pushes an ornately detailed metal cart into the front of the room. Atop it rests a large screen. At the top of the screen, a white and yellow logo reads "BUZZ: Video Calls and Tekhum-Wide Meetings." A tall Leopard gentleman dressed in fine Agbadan robes can be seen fiddling with his camera awkwardly. Static occurs from time to time.

"Is this thing on?" He mutes and unmutes himself repeatedly, before finally settling down and standing in front of the camera for the venue to see. The video quality is absolutely horrendous and static covers up almost every other word. Only the most intuitive could interpret this. Its even worse than watching YouTube on dial-up Internet.

"It is a pleasure to attend this conference on behalf of the God-King of House Kiniun. A conference in which we are glad to join fellow followers of Avva to trade information and ideals. It is our understanding that the Arkhivists themselves have acknowledged the God-King as a vessel of Avva over text-based communication, and we are pleased to celebrate this with you all. With their contributions to collecting information and dispersing the truth, you all will follow, I am sure. It worries me that so many of you have opted to travel through the vast darkness of space to attend this conference, but simply say the word and I will show you the light as to the dangers of space. May Ophon's eyes watch us all and have mercy."

[DKArthas]

Bedecked in an elaborate robe the color of the morning sky, the dark skinned leader of the republic felt strangely out of place in the festive atmosphere. A scepter of blackest iron shot through with streaks of red could be seen tightly clasped in his left hand, while close behind him stood a pair of guards, clad in black armor, with blue cloaks trailing behind. Crimson eyes stared out of an aging face, filled with guarded suspicion as they carefully studied the Coedd and the imperial delegation. The Fomorian had come to take a measure of all those present; it was not often you can get so many dignitaries and personages from sansar and beyond gathered in the same place after all. It was not an opportunity to be missed.

Old eyes flickered to others present in the hall, from the scholar-queen who had called this gathering to the mysterious Eilif Dhaoine known to live in the hellish jungles of the northern isles, eyes narrowing in keen interest at the strange chitin armor and than further beyond to others still. For now, Cathal Oirbsiu remained content to watch, observe and listen. The idea of taking part in some competition to win the favor of a monarch pricked his pride but pragmatism kept him from entirely dismissing the idea.

One did not become an old soldier and politician without understanding the necessity of such things after all. These were the days of great change, one that would call for some flexibility, if the republic were to emerge triumphant and secure in the face of the great trials ahead. Neither can anyone stand alone, without some trusted comrade to watch their back.

Moving to the well decorated table stacked with delicacies, Cathal decided to take part in the feast, sniffing at the purplish fruit in his hand before taking a bite, razor sharp teeths cutting through it akin to a knife through butter. Not bad he thought, surprised, Almost as good as meat.

[farothel]

When the message arrived, Duke Cinra Bafatis discussed things with his advisors and they decided that it was a good opportunity to get to know other Elects, even from other planets. As it was a conference with a more scientific take, it was decided that besides one of the advisors and his staff, to also send a few people from the university as well as some priest-psions. Using one of the newer trade ships, escorted by a just as new destroyers, they headed out to Sansar.

Arriving at the Banquet they greeted the other dignitaries and as they were invited to speak, the advisor, count Choraria, did so at the appropriate event.
"We have come from another planet to discuss matters that are of importance to the whole Empire," he said, "so all of our people can benefit from each other's knowledge.
As a sign of our goodwill, we have brought schematics and other plans for advanced fusion reactors. We can also provide limited technical assistance in training workers to maintain these installations. Please contact us later, after the banquet."

[Epinephrine_Syn]

"You bless us with your attendance, Serenity! Your Highness, if you care to keep to popular convention, though you will forgive me for being uncertain of your local forms of address. Please forgive me; it is with a host's deference and with enormous respect that I am honored to meet in person one who has so well made those first impossible strides into a new and better future for a people rich in every virtue and beset by complications unknown by so many of us. I hope your journey was every inch the pleasure that befits one of your stature." Constance is a constant motion, clasping her hands warmly before her, inclining her head, never still. Only then does she look towards the child. "I'm afraid I do not recognize your young companion. Would you grace me with an introduction?"


"Of course, it is a pleasure to finally be here myself. I've always admired your information collections that my friends have brought back and have good news on that front. I have catalogued some information of our own to submit. But first, yes, introductions. This is Titania, the girl who I am grooming to help lead our people into the stars."

She steps back, introducing the smaller girl with a half bow and arms outstretched. This girl meanwhile looks upwards at Constance, and proudly gives a curtsey.

"Greetings. You may call me I. It is a pleasure to be at your banquet. I'm especially curious about that dollop of jelly you've handed out."

The little girl seems enamored with all the limbs, watching them closely. Serenity however kneels down and puts a hand on her shoulder.

"Miss we've talked about this. That's not a name that's a sigil. It's not even one most outsiders can properly pronounce or understand. Is Titania a bad na-." "No it isn't, I really like it. ... And what should I call you, my new buggy friend?"

[SerakHawk]

The delegation from the Illumined Utopian find themselves among the giants. Their diplomatic craft landed in the spaceport, being large enough to host a few of the giants comfortably its size was not notably smaller than typical pleasure craft or civilian transports of the 'normal' sized humanoids. A Full detachment of Protectorate Guards exited the craft to obtain directions to the banquet and the details on which table the Illustrated Prime would be hosted at as they intended to launch aero-craft to send the delegate there.

At the table reserved for the Illustrated Prime a circle of Protectorate Guard line the edge of the banquet table with light sticks to draw attention to the boundary of 'Jy'mar' space so none of the Giants would unknowingly step or crush them underfoot. Illustrated Prime Marcus was seated at a table sized for him in the center of the banquet table with Jy'mar staff cutting and portioning the provided bounty of food out so the Illustrated Prime could partake.

Marcus was more than happy with the Queens address noting the Illumined Utopian's contribution regarding their psychiatric studies completed and methods to cope with crews being confined in small spaces as well as the Queen providing a more than bountiful feast for the Illumined Utopian delegation. Particularly the fine cuts of meats were of exquisite quality. Following the speech Marcus uses his amplifying device to respond regarding certain matters when she comes to visit.

"Queen, your speech is welcomed and your generous food lavished on your guests is magnificent - We may take a liking to it enough to set up some form of trade for the goods on a longer term basis; another year or so perhaps. I do have a question regarding this person of power - Coedd, we are not familiar with them as we follow paths of self-reflection and improvement, not looking to higher powers ourselves - would the people of the hive be open to hearing about our beliefs of self-fulfillment? Also with your request for peace, the Illumined Utopian are not ones to aggress on those similarly aligned, we are small - but we are many. I will take a library card - many thanks Queen of the Arkhive"


The Illumined Utopian will gift A4 Aclaustrophobic Psychiatry to those present.
"Jy'mar Psychiatrist: We've found extra space in a hidden nest one can retreat to is extremely helpful in lowering stress. Make sure they get regular time on the fitness wheel and extra chew tacts to make sure their teeth are groomed. Communal grooming sessions are also recommended to ensure the welfare of your fur and create lasting bonds among your crew"

Submissions to the Arkhive are contained in my IC Post for Round 1 (https://forums.giantitp.com/showsinglepost.php?p=25953983&postcount=3)

[Kythia]

Quinn kept a polite distance between the High Lord and the tree-being. Animals, and now plants. It was getting hard to take the universe seriously. Still, the information around phermonic communication was interesting. As the high lord stepped away, they approached the librarian. “Please, do continue. Internal biochemical information transmission sounds fascinating. Our Bio-electric Mediators can manipulate chemical processes within the human body, so perhaps there is an application of our skill in communication here.”


"No doubt..." he nods thoughtfully for a moment then more decisively. "Yes, no doubt. Clearly the actual chemicals involved are different but the general principles should be transferable, with a little effort. Although there's no focus on electric mediation of messages, of course..." he trails off again in thought for a moment.

"Apologies, I really am poor at standing on protocol today, I hope it doesn't reflect poorly on the Hive, only on myself. This" he gestures at the motionless tree beside him "is Coedd. This" he quickly and as surreptitiously as he can checks a datapad with a list of invitees " is Senior Advisor Quinn Emery Kai Rene of UNNCLE. I..."

He's cut off by a beep from the analyser and smiles apologetically at Quinn before muttering under his breath "not-Coedd, that beryllium marker will accentuate the meat-mind, so it's an open meat mind..." OK. Coedd believes that UNNCLE require things that will open their minds. Or possibly their skulls, I'm sorry things are a little unclear at times." As he finishes translating there's another beep.

"Coedd is all. Coedd is able" He translates rapidly, having seen that countless times then continues a little more hesitantly. "Coedd creates Coedd open-meat-mind. Oh, I see, Coedd can create plants that...open your mind?"

[moossabi]

Against the backdrop of the general throng of arrivals, an elegant private jet settles upon one of the Arkhive's landing pads, stylized to emulate the flair of an eagle's wings. The seal of the Fiorid dynasty rests emblazoned upon its hull, leaving no mistake as to the affiliation of its disembarking duo of dignitaries. The more eye-catching of the pair is the wheelchair-bound Hekla dei Fiori, more pitiable than imposing, clad in dignified attire but cloaking her legs in a plaid quilt to stave off the bitter cold surrounding the Arkhival oasis. Her pale hair rests cleanly above a morose visage, accentuated by albinist red eyes which seem to gaze through anything she focuses her attention on. The other, Hinrik dei Fiori, strides alongside his sister's chair without effort, a passively regal smile resting upon dignified features. Much of his appearance seems to parallel Hekla's, with red eyes and pale hair, though one cannot avoid giving his metallic right arm a cursory glance.

The Prime Theater
The two exchange pleasantries with the reception crew before settling into the rear end of the assembly. Hekla quietly takes notes on the various speakers and offers, but in all honesty the two have little true reason to be here beyond satisfying Hinrik's curiosity. So far the fruits and plants are aesthetically inferior to those of Verdalfheim, but neither sibling bothers to eat. The Queen's charter and overall demeanor intrigues Hinrik greatly on account of the potential for global cooperation, but the words of Scorcha of Deargabh are what truly attracts his interest.

And then of course there's Scorcha herself, who has to handle the actual diplomacy of the occasion. Much like some of the sealga, she's dressed in sgia-loinn that takes on a glistening red in the light of the park's light, but unlike them she hasn't chosen to pair them with chitincraft trophies or weaponry. She listens to the Queen's speech respectfully, nodding when the Dhaoine are recognised, and when the opportunity is given to speak she follows up the Herald's speech with a short message of her own. "I am unsure how well the rest of you on Sansar have been able to get to know each other over the years that we on the Reserve were still isolated, but for us you are all quite new, and we know little about you all. I hope that we are able to rectify that in the coming years, and ensure that our people's respective ambitions do not cause undue conflict. Sansar is about to undergo a period of change, I'm sure we're all aware of this, but it is down to us how painful that change is. That is all." With that, she steps down again and goes to sample the full variety of what's on offer, before speaking with MacDonald in the hopes of acquiring as many of the plants on offer as possible, explaining that a large amount of the food eaten in the Reserve comes from arrays of vertical farms within their cities, and more variety will be well-recieved by her countrymen.
Some time after her speech, Hinrik makes his way over to her location and offers a hand to shake. "Pleasant tidings, milady. My name is Hinrik dei Fiori, second son of Prince Isak of Verdalfheim and acting on his behalf at this gathering." His overly formal tone could easily backfire, but misplaced flattery is a safer approach than blunt realism when dealing with new acquaintances. "Your words were true; rapid change is on the horizon, and I feel that we have much to discuss regarding the emergent world order."

Elsewhere
The quiet automated wheels of Hekla's wheelchair glide towards the fore of the room, where the Imperial High Lord has taken up position. Her ordinarily dour expression takes on a lighter tone, reframing the bags under her eyes as indicative of a great tiredness. Such an aged expression upon such a young woman; this must be the rumored immortality of the elven monarchy at work. "It's good to make your acquaintance, High Lord. I would bow, but..." She grimaces briefly, looking down. "...the sentiment is there, in any case. My name is Hekla dei Fiori, one of the dynasts of Verdalfheim. I must say, it has been an honor to our people that the Emperor would consider our principality among his roster of trustworthy vassals."

Hekla and Hinrik, respectively
https://i.ibb.co/ns4wd37/E8-Fiorid-1-Hekla.pnghttps://i.ibb.co/QNDT96W/E8-Fiorid-4-Hinrik.png

[Frostwander]

The delegation from Caipe Ushere arrives on a sleek hovercraft, built in a style reminiscent of the nautical of several centuries earlier, graceful curving hull and silver sides adorned with sweeping airsails alight with hundreds of interlocking geometric patterns that shift constantly in color and position as the ship steers into the harbor. The party that disembarks to attend the conference is lead by a single cavalier: a young woman in bright colored garb of multiple layers of shimmering cloth, bearing a glistening slender sabre at her side. Behind her strides the queen, followed by another dozen associated courtiers and functionaries. While the garish attire of the cavalier draws the eye, it serves mostly to bring attention by contrast to the tall woman behind her, whose clothes, while exquisite, lack any sort of color whatsoever.

Queen Chalise Merole Ebonne d'Laforét has stern angular features, a heavy brow and squared jaw that, perhaps twenty years ago might have generously been called 'handsome' by conventional standards. Her dress, all in black, is high-collared, with the pointed tip at the back nearly at the top of her crown. The lower end floats a few fingers above the ground, just revealing sensible boots beneath. She walks with a dignified pace and confident steps, bootheels clicking upon the floor of walkways, though less notably among the foliage of the park. Her eyes scan around the setting, taking in the hosts and attendees quickly, picking out individuals of interest and making note of the noteworthy.

Once their entrance is complete, the cavalier steps back to allow her majesty the lead of the delegation, remaining close over one shoulder throughout the event. The other courtiers remain on hand for providing details, translation, or making conversational or negotiation arrangements, but it is clear that to any approaching Queen Ebonne is the primary to contact.

At her introduction in Queen Constance's speech, she gives a polite nod of acknowledgement. Gifts for the hosts include several dozen bottles of the finest Usheret wine vintages of the last several decades, and individual bottles are also presented as gifts to the leading dignitaries of each visiting faction as well.

[Kythia]

Coedd apparently considers the conversation closed as it ponderously turns and moves towards the nearest member of the delegation from the reserve, paying no attention to any rank signifiers. Padraig, more sensitive (albeit barely) to the nuances of conversation smiles apologetically at Quinn. "I should..." he gestures after the slowly departing tree. "Please take no offence, there's no real concept of goodbye or anything in their language. Coedd, they call it, which if you know them at all..." he chuckles "It's quite interesting really. There is a sort of 'end transmission' message they sometimes use but we haven't really been able to work out precisely what circumstances. We think and by we I mean my colleague Cofyn the Three Hundred and Eleventh and Three Hundredths - he's studied this a lot, but we think it's only used at the actual end of a conversation. So if it asked to, I don't know, to borrow a kroesid, not that it would of course but if it did, and you said 'I don't know let me think about it' we think it wouldn't use that end transmission signal because the conversation, the communicative loop is still open. And then when you got back to it and said no or yes or something to actually finish that line of communication then it would..." He suddenly notices that despite the slowness of Coedd's movement it was, in fact some distance away.

"You'll have to excuse me." and he hurried away

By the time he reached his assignment for the evening, his analyser was beeping. He looked down at it and, with a monumental effort of will, didn’t sigh. It was a long one.

“OK, so… Coedd is able. That basically means it’s offering a trade or to do something. Coedd is able, let’s see now. Coedd is able fashion meat-Coedd - that basically means it’ll influence its meat worshippers, errr, sorry that sounds odd doesn’t it. It’s animal…errr, the non-plants who worship it. Anyway. Fashion meat-Coedd die not-meat-Coedd. What the…Coedd can direct… Aha! Got it. Coedd says that it can use it’s…” the analyser beeps again with another message and this time he does sigh slightly.

“Now I’ve lost my train of thought…Coedd can direct it’s followers to help meat, errrm, animals, people, Coedd can direct it’s followers to help people in battle by something…not-meat-Coedd not Coedd travel…right, OK.” He clears his throat.

“Coedd can direct it’s followers to help in battle by making travel through forests and, you know, vegetation quicker. Ambushes and the like. large-Meat is able…got it, but it needs a certain critical mass of followers nearby. Basically it’s saying that with enough followers in the reserve honouring Coedd it can help the Reserve’s armies. Which..” he shrugged. He was an archivist now, sure, but he had been born in the Reserve and anything that could make combat easier was not to be sniffed at in that bug-infested hell.

[Lumaeus]

Tanchitsa bows to Queen Constance and presents to her the gifts: ancient books found in archaeological sites, tiny dumplings with salty sauces - a traditional dish of Kan, 3D models of Kanite spaceships and landmark buildings, most notably the helical DNA Tower, etc.
"Let the lights shine upon our nations' common path, O Queen. A true feast you have welcomed us with. I... I mean, the people of Kan are pleased to make your acquaintance. We shall repay your kindness with kindness, and do no harm to you. The gifts we've brought are but a fragment of our culture, there are literal mountains of these ancient baubles in Kan; we understand the Arkhive might be interested in that as a research- and preservation-based entity."

Her Arkhival Majesty, Queen Constance of Comment the first, returns the bow, but formality cannot suppress the gleeful grin on her face as the treasures are presented.

"You have dug deep into your wells of treasure to bring such generous largess to our humble Hive, and yet you claim so much more? Truly, the legends of Kan ever-majestic find in me more creedence every day. It is an honor to host such a storied and generous people. When time allows, I'd be delighted if you would allow me to introduce you to some representatives of the nine hundred and thirtieth--they would almost certainly offer both their expertise on 'ancient baubles' as well as their aid, if you'd suffer them." She marvels. "Truly, a warmer gesture of friendship has never been given, and we hope ever to reciprocate."

The Queen pauses briefly, with a look of mild social embarassment crossing her face.

"There, ah, is also a young phytotheologian who has asked I petition your delegation for a meeting. He has a theory regarding the sacred properties of Ribnik and the influence of Coedd. The Arkhive itself remains officially disinterested in individual's religious expression, but there seem to be real scholarly merits to his initial considerations."



"It is a pleasure to attend this conference on behalf of the God-King of House Kiniun. A conference in which we are glad to join fellow followers of Avva to trade information and ideals. It is our understanding that the Arkhivists themselves have acknowledged the God-King as a vessel of Avva over text-based communication, and we are pleased to celebrate this with you all. With their contributions to collecting information and dispersing the truth, you all will follow, I am sure. It worries me that so many of you have opted to travel through the vast darkness of space to attend this conference, but simply say the word and I will show you the light as to the dangers of space. May Ophon's eyes watch us all and have mercy."

[I am imagining this to be the cart the teacher wheels in to class to show a movie while they nap]

The Queen interjects between speeches to note, diplomatically, "We are ever grateful when our messages are so warmly interpreted." She leaves it there.


Bedecked in an elaborate robe the color of the morning sky, the dark skinned leader of the republic felt strangely out of place in the festive atmosphere. A scepter of blackest iron shot through with streaks of red could be seen tightly clasped in his left hand, while close behind him stood a pair of guards, clad in black armor, with blue cloaks trailing behind. Crimson eyes stared out of an aging face, filled with guarded suspicion as they carefully studied the Coedd and the imperial delegation. The Fomorian had come to take a measure of all those present; it was not often you can get so many dignitaries and personages from sansar and beyond gathered in the same place after all. It was not an opportunity to be missed.

When the Queen's rounds take her to the Fomorian delegation, she comports herself with solemn respect. "Sovereign Protector," she begins with a slight bow, "I speak for all the Arkhive when I tell you how gratified we are to host your illustrious delegation. The wisdom of The Radiant Republic elected you, and that wisdom is perhaps that which we most lack. Your society is something of an embarrasing hole in our research. We would warmly welcome any education you would share with us, the political scientists and philiosophers who can enlighten our pale understanding and your priests and theologians who could teach the interested your ways. If, indeed, you would be open to outside study. Either way, we pray you will count us ever as a friend. It is truly good to have you here."



"We have come from another planet to discuss matters that are of importance to the whole Empire," he said, "so all of our people can benefit from each other's knowledge.
As a sign of our goodwill, we have brought schematics and other plans for advanced fusion reactors. We can also provide limited technical assistance in training workers to maintain these installations. Please contact us later, after the banquet."

When the chance comes to catch the delegation between their diplomacies and discussions, the Queen thanks them personally for their generosity. "If you would care for it, we would be pleased to dedicate a portion of our island to a training facility for the maintenance engineers you mentioned. A unified point of contact to ease the process for everyone. And we will always gladly pay host to any of your people, whether they come to train or to visit."



"Miss we've talked about this. That's not a name that's a sigil. It's not even one most outsiders can properly pronounce or understand. Is Titania a bad na-." "No it isn't, I really like it. ... And what should I call you, my new buggy friend?"

The Queen laughs. "A tragedy to see a child so oppressed by their guardian! I must say, I can relate. I am Queen Constance of Comment, though you can call me Constance. You are, after all, no less than I am, and being raised into a true greatness. I must apologize if the proceedings go long--even to a diplomat chosen by the Hive, I can't say conferences are an exciting time."

She does not in all the conference lose an excited edge, the liar.

"Should you have need of anything, if you want any distractions, if there's anything in all of the Arkhive you wish to do or see, it is my royal command that it be yours. Just have someone let me know, and the doors will open to you. After all, you are our guest and our friend."


"Queen, your speech is welcomed and your generous food lavished on your guests is magnificent - We may take a liking to it enough to set up some form of trade for the goods on a longer term basis; another year or so perhaps. I do have a question regarding this person of power - Coedd, we are not familiar with them as we follow paths of self-reflection and improvement, not looking to higher powers ourselves - would the people of the hive be open to hearing about our beliefs of self-fulfillment? Also with your request for peace, the Illumined Utopian are not ones to aggress on those similarly aligned, we are small - but we are many. I will take a library card - many thanks Queen of the Arkhive"

"Much of the Arkhive serves Coedd and it is my personal belief that Coedd is inextricable from nature Herself on this world. It follows that observance of her, sometimes worship, is proper to this place. But it is not an exclusive claim and it certainly is not the claim of the Arkhive itself, which is disinterested in religion and passionate about the spread of knowledge. Bring those who can teach, and many will gladly learn of your ways. Some may well learn to embrace them. We would gladly set aside a chamber for any resident chaplain, as well as rooms for any rites--I must apologize, I am myself not well apprised of your ways. But that just means I will have to attend as well. Please, never consider yourselves less than welcome."

The Illumined Utopian receive a library card. They are officially untouchable by the Arkhive's actions, where desired.


Against the backdrop of the general throng of arrivals, an elegant private jet settles upon one of the Arkhive's landing pads, stylized to emulate the flair of an eagle's wings. The seal of the Fiorid dynasty rests emblazoned upon its hull, leaving no mistake as to the affiliation of its disembarking duo of dignitaries. The more eye-catching of the pair is the wheelchair-bound Hekla dei Fiori, more pitiable than imposing, clad in dignified attire but cloaking her legs in a plaid quilt to stave off the bitter cold surrounding the Arkhival oasis. Her pale hair rests cleanly above a morose visage, accentuated by albinist red eyes which seem to gaze through anything she focuses her attention on. The other, Hinrik dei Fiori, strides alongside his sister's chair without effort, a passively regal smile resting upon dignified features. Much of his appearance seems to parallel Hekla's, with red eyes and pale hair, though one cannot avoid giving his metallic right arm a cursory glance.

The Queen might not be their focus, but Constance will not let opportunity go to waste. From her position, the Fiorid dynasty may well be the most imposing force on the greater Chonkian continent, even if only present in down-rightern Chonkia for the time being. It was not the time to force a great diplomacy, but it was important to massage relations into something with potential.

"The Prince does us great honor in allowing us the presence of two of his children!" she greets them with a bow. "Though our means are simple, the entire vault of our Arkhive is open to you, and we hope to have the opportunity to learn from you as well. Have you already been introduced to the Fomorian delegation? Just the sight of your seek ship calls to my mind their wealth of metals. Your engineers at least may have much to discuss."


Queen Chalise Merole Ebonne d'Laforét has stern angular features, a heavy brow and squared jaw that, perhaps twenty years ago might have generously been called 'handsome' by conventional standards. Her dress, all in black, is high-collared, with the pointed tip at the back nearly at the top of her crown. The lower end floats a few fingers above the ground, just revealing sensible boots beneath. She walks with a dignified pace and confident steps, bootheels clicking upon the floor of walkways, though less notably among the foliage of the park. Her eyes scan around the setting, taking in the hosts and attendees quickly, picking out individuals of interest and making note of the noteworthy.

At her introduction in Queen Constance's speech, she gives a polite nod of acknowledgement. Gifts for the hosts include several dozen bottles of the finest Usheret wine vintages of the last several decades, and individual bottles are also presented as gifts to the leading dignitaries of each visiting faction as well.

When the chance comes to speak individually (retainers aside): "We may bear the same title, but I fear I only diminish its true worth when compared to such a noble ruler. A true honor to have you in attendance. The world knows that the vineyards of Caipe Ushere are the finest in the world, and your gifts to all assembled are perhaps the greatest generosity of the day. I hope the humble technological offerings we have can begin to repay you, and I hope we can plant the seed of a friendship which will itself produce vines and bear fruit."

[moossabi]

No Empire Event is Complete without Time Bubbles

The Queen might not be their focus, but Constance will not let opportunity go to waste. From her position, the Fiorid dynasty may well be the most imposing force on the greater Chonkian continent, even if only present in down-rightern Chonkia for the time being. It was not the time to force a great diplomacy, but it was important to massage relations into something with potential.

"The Prince does us great honor in allowing us the presence of two of his children!" she greets them with a bow. "Though our means are simple, the entire vault of our Arkhive is open to you, and we hope to have the opportunity to learn from you as well. Have you already been introduced to the Fomorian delegation? Just the sight of your seek ship calls to my mind their wealth of metals. Your engineers at least may have much to discuss."

Upon meeting the Queen, the dynastic duo would have delivered greetings similar to those delivered to their respective targets several minutes later, which would then facilitate Constance's introduction and bow. Hekla is quick to respond in the latter action's wake. "There is no need for deference; you owe no such fealty to the Principality, and we aren't even the highest notables..."

"It's a gesture of good will, sister." Hinrik smiles as he offers a cursory bow to the Queen in turn. "Common respect among dignitaries is no great imposition."

The seated dynast's eyebrows furrow in response. "A handshake seems to suffice for your usual interlocutors-"

Hinrik coughs awkwardly, hastily moving on. "-The presence of the Fomorians is indeed one of the reasons for our attendance, though I do not wish to rush things..." He casts a sideways glance to where Cathal is feasting upon the purple fruit. "These provisions are rather lavish. An incredible contrast with the surrounding region, I must say. If I might inquire, to what manner of technology do you owe such a bountiful cornucopia?"

[Epinephrine_Syn]

The Queen laughs. "A tragedy to see a child so oppressed by their guardian! I must say, I can relate. I am Queen Constance of Comment, though you can call me Constance. You are, after all, no less than I am, and being raised into a true greatness. I must apologize if the proceedings go long--even to a diplomat chosen by the Hive, I can't say conferences are an exciting time."

She does not in all the conference lose an excited edge, the liar.

"Should you have need of anything, if you want any distractions, if there's anything in all of the Arkhive you wish to do or see, it is my royal command that it be yours. Just have someone let me know, and the doors will open to you. After all, you are our guest and our friend."


Titania smiled broadly, although a slight hint of confusion appeared on her face as she looked up to Serenity to find her giggling behind a hand covering her mouth, before turning back to the queen of the Arkhive.

“That is a very dangerous offer to ma-“Titania works for a name, and I’m glad to abuse your offer, Constance. Show me where the Jelly is made. I am very, very curious.” Serenity is in a giggling fit again, although quickly composes herself into an amused but refined smile, in contrast with the shark tooth wide bared grin the small girl had, her fingers in this overt gesture of drumming against each other.

“It would be curious to see, but not touch. This is a rare opportunity to observe in person.”



The commander himself, once he's satisfied listening to his team on the comms, experiments a little with some buttons on a bracer keypad before murmuring something back to them. If anyone at that point approaches and asks what the button pressing was all about, the answer from the leader of the lannan is quite mundane - it was just putting in the right settings so their armour's environmental controls brought things inside the suit to a comfortable state in this temperature (the system was built to deal with the need for heavier armour than would normally be sensible in a hot, humid jungle environment, but it turned out that it worked to keep you warm just as well). Not that they needed to do much here - even though they're in the frozen north of Sansar, the hives themselves seemed quite capable of making things pleasant indoors. Apart from that, he seems content staying with the table, sitting by Scorcha's side and mentally weighing up whether it'd be better to join in the meal or keep helmeted up, his indecision showing through a little despite the helmet.

"Ant commander. I like your helmet." The girl looks small, but speaks intelligently, as if she were ten years older than she appeared. One of the others with her, not Serenity, but another of the incoming Moonsoul Pures, smiles, fully adult, human shaped, and in a light miko esque outfit. Not seeming to mind the cold in this with exposed flesh, unlike the little girl whose head barely reaches the table height which is fully bundled up. "She means that as a compliment. Truly. She really likes ants."



Against the backdrop of the general throng of arrivals, an elegant private jet settles upon one of the Arkhive's landing pads, stylized to emulate the flair of an eagle's wings. The seal of the Fiorid dynasty rests emblazoned upon its hull, leaving no mistake as to the affiliation of its disembarking duo of dignitaries. The more eye-catching of the pair is the wheelchair-bound Hekla dei Fiori, more pitiable than imposing, clad in dignified attire but cloaking her legs in a plaid quilt to stave off the bitter cold surrounding the Arkhival oasis. Her pale hair rests cleanly above a morose visage, accentuated by albinist red eyes which seem to gaze through anything she focuses her attention on. The other, Hinrik dei Fiori, strides alongside his sister's chair without effort, a passively regal smile resting upon dignified features. Much of his appearance seems to parallel Hekla's, with red eyes and pale hair, though one cannot avoid giving his metallic right arm a cursory glance.

"Greetings." Serenity gives a gentle curtsey, waiting for a spare moment to speak to the Fiorid. "This is a good time to meet in person rather than just discussing across the SpaceSquare, even if any formal agreements are done elsewhere." The little girl whose head barely comes up to the waist of the skirt Serenity has pipes up, tipping her hat back to look upwards at the other two.

"Mom told me to start off conversations by being complimentary and giving people a reason to talk about themselves. So tell me what makes elves different from pointy eared humans and why are elves just plain better?" The older woman looks down at her younger companion, exhaling a smiling sigh. "Okay, accurate, but tone it down."

[Lt-Murgen]

Later, but not too late


"Queen, your speech is welcomed and your generous food lavished on your guests is magnificent - We may take a liking to it enough to set up some form of trade for the goods on a longer term basis; another year or so perhaps. I do have a question regarding this person of power - Coedd, we are not familiar with them as we follow paths of self-reflection and improvement, not looking to higher powers ourselves - would the people of the hive be open to hearing about our beliefs of self-fulfillment? Also with your request for peace, the Illumined Utopian are not ones to aggress on those similarly aligned, we are small - but we are many. I will take a library card - many thanks Queen of the Arkhive"


Senior Advisor Quinn Emery Kai Rene approached the table, giving the Protectorate Guard all of the deference they would the heavily armored Glix. "Illustrated Prime Marcus, what a welcome sight! I was afraid Badal would have to rely solely upon our poor showing. Isn't the banquet magnificent? I've dispatched one of my adjutents to beg for cuttings and seeds. What a triumph it would be to add these varietals to our aquacultural farms."
Quinn bent at the knees and squatted so that their eye level was roughly the same as the Prime. It was commonly held within the State Department that the Jy'Mar saw matching eye level as a sign of respect and deference. "What are your favorites here? My people know so little about the palate of the Jy'mar."

A coversation with Coedd



"Coedd is all. Coedd is able" He translates rapidly, having seen that countless times then continues a little more hesitantly. "Coedd creates Coedd open-meat-mind. Oh, I see, Coedd can create plants that...open your mind?"

"Interesting. Our Bio-electrical Mediators are well versed in using psychoactive chemicals in combination with our Bio-mesh in mental health therapy for a variety of imbalances. There are many companies within our aerostat dedicated to those areas of research. And if we could develop a more attuned mechanism than your analyzer, that would be a great benefit to the entire empire."

[Volthawk]

<Queen's response to Scorcha>
Scorcha listens patiently to the Queen's response, curious to hear her explain a little more about their plans. The answer is...not quite what she was expecting, even putting aside the Coedd-related tangent, but the more she thought it about the more the logic made sense to her. Ultimately, it was the same response as you saw on the personal level with those who were non-violent but lived in a violent world - by making themselves useful, indispensible even, to those around them, they became protected. Alright. That was a game she could play. "Of course I would like to help you. Besides military aid, should the need arise, we can contribute some works for your records - we were already compiling some of our stories for the Empire, and sharing those won't be a problem, and besides that..." Her gaze leaves the Queen to scan the crowd, picking out one of the sealga and calling out to them. "Hey! You have a copy of the Sealga's Guide to Sansar, yes?" When she's met with a confused nod, she turns her gaze back to the Queen. "There we are, a more modern piece of our literature. One of the first sealga to leave the Reserve and find out about the other Elect members wrote a book for those like her, a description of what it's like out here in wider Sansar. I'm sure you'll find it interesting."


<Demi Perse>
Looking up at the big woman, Scorcha thinks for a moment before nodding. "That would work for us. We have plenty of agricultural technicians who'd appreciate the advice, and as far as chitincraft is concerned...well, there's a good variety of it on sale in any of our cities. If you'd be so inclined to spend your pay on our own artisans...well, nobody could complain with that." She smiles. "I hope you like a warmer climate than this, though."


<U.N.C.L.E. faith stuff>
Scorcha seems to be quite interested in what Quinn shows off, even through the usual calm face she's been using throughout the banquet, but she collects herself before responding. "I'm honoured to hear of the interest you've taken in our history. Calling the bàscail xeno-biological is...a little inaccurate, given that they were created on Sansar with pre-War techniques by what we assume were mostly humans, but the spirit is correct. We overcome the bàscail over the centuries, and now we are united and ready to face the rest of the world - and as we now know, the worlds beyond. I must confess that I don't know the ins and outs of your own history enough to draw parallels, however."

"As far as your magic is concerned...yes that is something I would be interested in. Our genetic techniques have operated along...somewhat similar lines, although we hadn't had much luck with directly affecting magical ability, so our genetic enhancement projects have focused on more mundane projects - you know, minor life extension and physical enhancements, resistance to toxic fauna and flora, that sort of thing. I'm definitely curious to see where you take it." She nods. "Please keep us - me - posted on your progress."


<inbred elves>
Scorcha looks thoughtfully at Henrik as she takes his offered hand. The lannan commander besides her thinks for a moment before leaning over and whispering something, unintentionally loud enough for Henrik's translators to pick up on - caornag-iomnach, which gets translated as...anxious brawl? The second potential phrasing the translator comes up with might make more sense though - vigilant hive.

"I feel like you might be correct there, we do have much to discuss. Are you here for assurances from us, or to make claims yourself? The amount your people have been building up their military forces means I'm inclined to believe that it's one of those two, but please correct me if I have misunderstood."


<wine delivery>

When the Eilif Dhaoine delegation is given the wine, naturally it goes to Scorcha and her lannan first. Once one of the lannan has tried some and given it an emphatic thumbs up, Scorcha pours out a glass for herself and gives it a try. Nodding, she gestures for one of the lannan to go over to the sealga group feasting and loudly talking and offer the bottle to them, and she quietly watches them drink it and enjoy it. Good. With that settled, she gets up and approaches the queen of Caipe Ushere. "Greetings. I must compliment you on the drink you offered to us. Wine, I believe it's called? Is this something you had to specially get for this, or something your people make a lot of?"


<Coedd missionary work, sort of>

By chance, Quinn happens to meet one of the sealga first, one of the hangers-on from the group hanging around near the Glix. The man, a lanky sort with messy red hair, gives Quinn a bit of a bored look as he rambles through explaining the ins and outs of plant communication, but nonetheless follows the translator as he hurries after Coedd's representative. Seemed more interesting than what he was doing before, at least. Once the guy gets to the point finally and explains what Coedd has to offer, the sealga seems very interested. "Is that so? Well damn, why didn't you open with that? Followers honouring Coedd, huh? That might be doable, particularly once I let the others know what you're saying here...is Coedd gonna send people out to us to get people on side, or what?"


<weird child but not child girl>

The lannan commander, keeping watch for trouble, fails to look down for long enough that the girl catches him by surprise a little. Looking down, his eyes narrow a little behind the eyes of his helmet as he assesses the situation. One of them. The...Moonsoul, yes, that was the name he'd heard. Along with scraps of other stories. Little of things around them seemed clear, and yet here was a child, looking like any other but...there was something...well. No harm in civility.

"I see. Thank you, it is a mark of honour for us all that we wear it. Our unit of lannan was outfitted at the same time, using chitin taken from...yes, I suppose 'ant' is close enough, from the same nest, so it binds us and reminds of our enemy at all times, you see." He chuckles a little. "It is...unusual to hear someone say they really like ants, but I suppose where you come from they're those small harmless specimens I've seen, so it makes sense. Do you know much about the Reserve, child?"

[moossabi]

After the Previous Time Bubble but Before the two Separate Conversations

"Greetings." Serenity gives a gentle curtsey, waiting for a spare moment to speak to the Fiorid. "This is a good time to meet in person rather than just discussing across the SpaceSquare, even if any formal agreements are done elsewhere." The little girl whose head barely comes up to the waist of the skirt Serenity has pipes up, tipping her hat back to look upwards at the other two.

"Mom told me to start off conversations by being complimentary and giving people a reason to talk about themselves. So tell me what makes elves different from pointy eared humans and why are elves just plain better?" The older woman looks down at her younger companion, exhaling a smiling sigh. "Okay, accurate, but tone it down."

Hekla visibly winces at the question, vaguely looking off in some other direction, while the ever-enthusiastic Hinrik smiles before launching into his response. "True, some would hold that belief. I, for one, value the diversity of life upon great Sansar, though it cannot be denied that our extended lifespan leaves us especially predisposed to the arduous work of rulership. Even the lowest among us may persist for twice as long as the average human, and our Elder Blood makes us... well, immortal." He happily gestures downwards to his uncomfortably-seated sister. "Hekla, my eldest sister, has lived for nearly three centuries, and neither of us show any sign of slowing down."

A sardonic quip escapes the crippled woman's thin lips. "Indeed, paradise is wholly free of troubles."

"Oh, cheer up." Hinrik gives his sibling a nudge with his right arm, a metallic prosthesis. "We were born for greatness. Certainly, elvenkind and humanity - on what little basis the two can be regarded as distinct, though I doubt the utility of such taxonomic division - bear a common heritage, but our Elder Blood represents the height of life's evolution, a final conquest of death itself."

Scramble for Sansar

Scorcha looks thoughtfully at Henrik as she takes his offered hand. The lannan commander besides her thinks for a moment before leaning over and whispering something, unintentionally loud enough for Henrik's translators to pick up on - caornag-iomnach, which gets translated as...anxious brawl? The second potential phrasing the translator comes up with might make more sense though - vigilant hive.

"I feel like you might be correct there, we do have much to discuss. Are you here for assurances from us, or to make claims yourself? The amount your people have been building up their military forces means I'm inclined to believe that it's one of those two, but please correct me if I have misunderstood."

Having spoken nothing but a fluent and formal Low Imperial, a shade of dismay falls upon Hinrik's face when confronted with his prospective colleagues' foreign whispering. He chooses to ignore the faux pas for the time being, having more dignified matters to attend to. "You are well-informed. My sister Eydis, Chancellor to our Princely father, has taken it upon herself to enact a general muster in the interest of securing Greater Alfheim. I, of course, hold little influence over these ambitions, thus I have no desire to threaten, demand, or extract assurances. Her conquests are an inevitability, a fact which I hope the wider community of Sansar will find it in their hearts to accept." From a satchel at his side, Hinrik retrieves a map of the planet, the territorial ambitions ascribed to the Chancellor already marked [Regions 35, 37, 38, and 51], and places it on the table nearest to the two parties. "I have been informed that Eilif Dhaoine does not share my sister's predilection for preparation and overwhelming force, but I must confess that your present assault to the northwest indicates a similar overall interest. I do not disagree with the move; Sansar is better off in the hands of its own Elect than left as carrion for interlopers to devour at will, yet I feel that collaboration would be most fruitful in this endeavor. To this end... what are your state's ambitions, milady?"

[Epinephrine_Syn]

The lannan commander, keeping watch for trouble, fails to look down for long enough that the girl catches him by surprise a little. Looking down, his eyes narrow a little behind the eyes of his helmet as he assesses the situation. One of them. The...Moonsoul, yes, that was the name he'd heard. Along with scraps of other stories. Little of things around them seemed clear, and yet here was a child, looking like any other but...there was something...well. No harm in civility.

"I see. Thank you, it is a mark of honour for us all that we wear it. Our unit of lannan was outfitted at the same time, using chitin taken from...yes, I suppose 'ant' is close enough, from the same nest, so it binds us and reminds of our enemy at all times, you see." He chuckles a little. "It is...unusual to hear someone say they really like ants, but I suppose where you come from they're those small harmless specimens I've seen, so it makes sense. Do you know much about the Reserve, child?"

"Not a bit!" The girl states as if she's proud, and then reconsiders. "... okay depends what you mean by 'much' I guess. I've read the catalogues of critters there, and yes the ants over there don't match the ants I know from my own stories. I have a rough idea that you fight for the ch..chiitiin... armors and that it's a sign of pride. I wonder how well the identifying with or as a thing you consider an enemy works out in the long term, when tying it to what you wear."

A brief moment of respite. "But I'm more than happy to listen. This is a socializing event, and I hope you'll enjoy talking of the pride of your people."




Hekla visibly winces at the question, vaguely looking off in some other direction, while the ever-enthusiastic Hinrik smiles before launching into his response. "True, some would hold that belief. I, for one, value the diversity of life upon great Sansar, though it cannot be denied that our extended lifespan leaves us especially predisposed to the arduous work of rulership. Even the lowest among us may persist for twice as long as the average human, and our Elder Blood makes us... well, immortal." He happily gestures downwards to his uncomfortably-seated sister. "Hekla, my eldest sister, has lived for nearly three centuries, and neither of us show any sign of slowing down."

A sardonic quip escapes the crippled woman's thin lips. "Indeed, paradise is wholly free of troubles."

"Oh, cheer up." Hinrik gives his sibling a nudge with his right arm, a metallic prosthesis. "We were born for greatness. Certainly, elvenkind and humanity - on what little basis the two can be regarded as distinct, though I doubt the utility of such taxonomic division - bear a common heritage, but our Elder Blood represents the height of life's evolution, a final conquest of death itself."

While they talk, at the slowing down remark, very quietly, is the tiny Titania peering around and remarking "ooo, turbo jets?" at the wheelchair in a quiet voice.

"It's honestly refreshing to hear that minimizing of birthright jockeying. Our peoples finding a way to conquer death and the true end is a large positive. I fully admit even I am still new ish to state building, so the troubles in paradise are novel and a little hard to understand. My people have always lived by themselves in a way that having to wrangle literal millions is a foreign concept."

"Yeah, in my previous life I wasn't a human or an el-" The girl got a small tug on the ear, cutting her statement off halfway. "State secrets."

"Regardless, yes, I very much look forwards to working together on whatever challenges come next, be they from nature or nefarious outer forces outside Sansar."

[Silent_Interim]

An Old Man And An Elf

Elsewhere
The quiet automated wheels of Hekla's wheelchair glide towards the fore of the room, where the Imperial High Lord has taken up position. Her ordinarily dour expression takes on a lighter tone, reframing the bags under her eyes as indicative of a great tiredness. Such an aged expression upon such a young woman; this must be the rumored immortality of the elven monarchy at work. "It's good to make your acquaintance, High Lord. I would bow, but..." She grimaces briefly, looking down. "...the sentiment is there, in any case. My name is Hekla dei Fiori, one of the dynasts of Verdalfheim. I must say, it has been an honor to our people that the Emperor would consider our principality among his roster of trustworthy vassals."


The High Lord nods respectfully to the woman in the wheelchair. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, dear Hekla. And please, call me Nasir. If I insisted on all the formalities, why, I'd simply never get anything done. And I am sure that the Emperor has made an excellent choice, in his vast and inscrutable wisdom. Remember, if his designs seem strange or absurd, that his gaze goes much further than any of ours."

An Old Man And A Very Nice Bottle Of Wine

The delegation from Caipe Ushere arrives on a sleek hovercraft, built in a style reminiscent of the nautical of several centuries earlier, graceful curving hull and silver sides adorned with sweeping airsails alight with hundreds of interlocking geometric patterns that shift constantly in color and position as the ship steers into the harbor. The party that disembarks to attend the conference is lead by a single cavalier: a young woman in bright colored garb of multiple layers of shimmering cloth, bearing a glistening slender sabre at her side. Behind her strides the queen, followed by another dozen associated courtiers and functionaries. While the garish attire of the cavalier draws the eye, it serves mostly to bring attention by contrast to the tall woman behind her, whose clothes, while exquisite, lack any sort of color whatsoever.

Queen Chalise Merole Ebonne d'Laforét has stern angular features, a heavy brow and squared jaw that, perhaps twenty years ago might have generously been called 'handsome' by conventional standards. Her dress, all in black, is high-collared, with the pointed tip at the back nearly at the top of her crown. The lower end floats a few fingers above the ground, just revealing sensible boots beneath. She walks with a dignified pace and confident steps, bootheels clicking upon the floor of walkways, though less notably among the foliage of the park. Her eyes scan around the setting, taking in the hosts and attendees quickly, picking out individuals of interest and making note of the noteworthy.

Once their entrance is complete, the cavalier steps back to allow her majesty the lead of the delegation, remaining close over one shoulder throughout the event. The other courtiers remain on hand for providing details, translation, or making conversational or negotiation arrangements, but it is clear that to any approaching Queen Ebonne is the primary to contact.

At her introduction in Queen Constance's speech, she gives a polite nod of acknowledgement. Gifts for the hosts include several dozen bottles of the finest Usheret wine vintages of the last several decades, and individual bottles are also presented as gifts to the leading dignitaries of each visiting faction as well.

"Oh, now this is a gift worth having!" The High Lord fawns over the bottle presented to him, eyes wide with glee. "Oh, it has been too long since I have had the opportunity to enjoy a fine vintage. I have a small vineyard myself, but the wine there is like ash compared to the famous Caipe Ushere vintages. Truly, this is an honour. Perhaps we can arrange some sort of import agreement, there are some back on Ophon who would kill to have some of these bottles in their cellars. I wish only that I were speaking metaphorically; I will have to have my guards be extra-vigilant for assassins until I have drunk this."

[moossabi]

Not just the Moonmen, but the Moonwomen, and the Moonchildren too

While they talk, at the slowing down remark, very quietly, is the tiny Titania peering around and remarking "ooo, turbo jets?" at the wheelchair in a quiet voice.

"It's honestly refreshing to hear that minimizing of birthright jockeying. Our peoples finding a way to conquer death and the true end is a large positive. I fully admit even I am still new ish to state building, so the troubles in paradise are novel and a little hard to understand. My people have always lived by themselves in a way that having to wrangle literal millions is a foreign concept."

"Yeah, in my previous life I wasn't a human or an el-" The girl got a small tug on the ear, cutting her statement off halfway. "State secrets."

"Regardless, yes, I very much look forwards to working together on whatever challenges come next, be they from nature or nefarious outer forces outside Sansar."

Smirking at the suggestion of state secrets, Hekla splits off from the discourse to roll her way over to where she and Hinrik will listen to the announcements of the Queen and Eilif Dhaoine in a few minutes. Hinrik, though, seems naively delighted by the development. "So, you have also sought means to defeat the scourge of death. I am sure our people would have much in common. Should you ever seek an alliance with our polity, I'm sure the Prince and Chancellor will see an obvious basis in our ideological overlap." He glances over in the direction of the stage. "It seems like they'll be starting soon." He briefly crouches down, offer his left (intact) hand to the tiny Titania for a shake. "It was good to meet you both; you must come to Verdalfheim sometime. Not to disparage this venue, but an island of greenery can never compare to the beauties of our jungle home."

Nasir d'Empire

An Old Man And An Elf


The High Lord nods respectfully to the woman in the wheelchair. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, dear Hekla. And please, call me Nasir. If I insisted on all the formalities, why, I'd simply never get anything done. And I am sure that the Emperor has made an excellent choice, in his vast and inscrutable wisdom. Remember, if his designs seem strange or absurd, that his gaze goes much further than any of ours."

Hekla raises an eyebrow at the disparagement of the Emperor's reasoning, for a great many reasons. The High Lord had immediately and correctly guessed where she was taking the conversation, and his preemptive defense had thrown the Fiorid on the conversational backfoot. "I would never wish to imply his will to be an absurdity, though the obvious implication is that something has changed." She pauses, choosing her next words carefully behind a mask of sphinx-like impassivity. "One would not commit to two millennia of reduced action without good reason, and to break with such a firmly established paradigm implies the triumph of a far more pressing reason. If we are meant to fulfill some purpose, likely in response to a recently changed condition, would we not be better equipped to serve our intended function if we knew that reason?"

[Kythia]

A coversation with Coedd

"Interesting. Our Bio-electrical Mediators are well versed in using psychoactive chemicals in combination with our Bio-mesh in mental health therapy for a variety of imbalances. There are many companies within our aerostat dedicated to those areas of research. And if we could develop a more attuned mechanism than your analyzer, that would be a great benefit to the entire empire."

Padraig pauses in his hurray over to translation duties. "I'm almost certain Coedd would send a...oh, the exact explanation is difficult but I'll say 'representative' to you for conversation and dissection. It's really not like, say, us doing the same. It's more like sending a hair sample or something for them, but a hair sample that can talk. They won't know anything from Coedd since that part left - and might not even know everything Coedd knows depending on how much of itself Coedd chooses to implant." he purses his lips for a second nd seems about to launch into a long and highly specialist elaboration before visibly refraining himself. "But then you can analyse it to look at the chemical pathways. Honestly, Coedd doesn't care, it's how we learnt a lot, back when we were first getting to grips with it all. I mean, I can't entirely speak for Coedd obviously, but I really doubt they'd be unwilling to do that. There's something, it's strnge Coedd has never cared about not-Coedd-meat before..." he shuts up abruptly with a strong look of "I shouldn't have said that. I really shouldn't have said that"



By chance, Quinn happens to meet one of the sealga first, one of the hangers-on from the group hanging around near the Glix. The man, a lanky sort with messy red hair, gives Quinn a bit of a bored look as he rambles through explaining the ins and outs of plant communication, but nonetheless follows the translator as he hurries after Coedd's representative. Seemed more interesting than what he was doing before, at least. Once the guy gets to the point finally and explains what Coedd has to offer, the sealga seems very interested. "Is that so? Well damn, why didn't you open with that? Followers honouring Coedd, huh? That might be doable, particularly once I let the others know what you're saying here...is Coedd gonna send people out to us to get people on side, or what?"

"I think it'd actually be Queen Constance who..." he looks down at his analyser when it beeps. "Coedd-meat discuss not-Coedd-meat, yeah, it'd be us who sent people, not Coedd itself"

[Silent_Interim]

Nasir d'Empire

Hekla raises an eyebrow at the disparagement of the Emperor's reasoning, for a great many reasons. The High Lord had immediately and correctly guessed where she was taking the conversation, and his preemptive defense had thrown the Fiorid on the conversational backfoot. "I would never wish to imply his will to be an absurdity, though the obvious implication is that something has changed." She pauses, choosing her next words carefully behind a mask of sphinx-like impassivity. "One would not commit to two millennia of reduced action without good reason, and to break with such a firmly established paradigm implies the triumph of a far more pressing reason. If we are meant to fulfill some purpose, likely in response to a recently changed condition, would we not be better equipped to serve our intended function if we knew that reason?"

He shrugs expansively within his robes. "It is not given to us lesser mortals to divine the intentions of our Emperor. Even I am but a piece upon the board, to be moved about by a guiding hand of a greater mind. Who can say what design this follows? Not this humble servant of his will. In all my long life, if I have learned one thing, it is that we must be content to follow the current of the wind and the water." His eyes twinkle. "Of course, that does not mean that we cannot adjust our sails. Take heart, my dear. Whatever purpose there is for you will be met by you, one way or another. Keep your eye on the horizon and your hand on the tiller, and I am sure all will be well."

If he is aware that he has entirely evaded the question, and the implied question behind it, he gives no sign. A hand emerges from within his robes with a small bit of candy. "Would you care for a honeyed locust? Some find them too sweet, but personally I think they are just right."

[Volthawk]

<world domination talks with the inbred elves>

Scorcha notes the phrase 'Greater Alfheim' with interest as she listens to the elf's little speech - it seemed like her man was right. Caornag-iomnach - vigilant hives, a term originally used when dealing with the bàscail that took on new life during the unification period, for those who jealously guarded all the territory around themselves and treated anything that looked like a threat to that land with aggression. Those city-states were the few cases where larger-scale combat was necessary. This time around...well, there was no need to provoke the hive when it wasn't necessary. Everyone in the Reserve learned that lesson in one way or another before long.

With that in mind, she doesn't really need to see the map to know what it is these people want - all the land around the area where they currently lived, including...hm. Over the mountains too, interesting. And that eastern landmass...one of the space elevators, huh? Well, she couldn't judge there, if the talks the Dhaoine were currently in went well. But beyond that...ah yes. Explaining away her father's actions, of course. At least these elves weren't hypocrites. "It's simple. We need more land, and strong allies, and our current efforts are a two-pronged endeavour to secure both. To the west of the Reserve, we have my father's campaign on the mainland - what I understand to be called Zabava. Once we have those, those that which to leave the Reserve's cities will have somewhere else within Eilif Dhaoine to live. And to the east...well, to put it simply, our people found out about the people that lived there - I'm sure you've had more experience with them than we have, with the amount of 'adventurers' based in those parts, drawn by the ruined elevator as I understand it...and then we decided that making allies with those people was much more favourable to other means. So far it's going..." Scorcha gives a small shrug. "They're an interesting group people to try to deal with. However, as far as broader issues are concerned...we have no intentions of taking land within Greater Alfheim, no. Once we're done with our current targets, what happens next will depend on the situation, of course, but I don't see why we'd ever need to attempt to take land you have a claim over. There is still plenty of Sansar outside of Alfheim, after all."


<talking about home with the not-a-child>

The commander pauses for a moment, considering his words. Not just what to say, but how to say it and how much to include - after all, this was a child and children elsewhere didn't need to grow up knowing all they can about the bàscail...but at the same time, this child was...off somehow. He couldn't put his finger on how. Alright then. They were here for diplomacy, he supposed, so he had to play along.

"Well. Hm. I suppose a good starting point is this point about identifying with the bàscail. That's...not quite the way we see it, we're not emulating or identifying with them, exactly. It's more like..." He gestures around vaguely for the word. "A testament to man's mastery over the monster. You see, we are lannan. Soldiers. Guards. Whatever you want to call it. We don't go out there into the jungle to pick fights or enjoy ourselves, we defend what is ours from the bàscail, and when we go out there, it's alone or with some friends, not to hunt a bàsclan for sport or glory like the sealga do, it's to destroy our target, whatever it is that's interfering with our people's prosperity. And so we wear armour made from hive-dwelling or swarming types of bàscail, because the fact that we have so many bodies for our artisans to work with is testament to our success, to the purpose of the lannan, and because in destroying that nest we made our homes safer, or claimed land for an outpost from which we become more prosperous as a people. We don't exactly think of them like trophies, like the sealga do, but...the word is still somewhat appropriate if I think about it some more."


<Coedd faith talk>

The sealga nods right away, waving away what seemed like it was gonna be a long rambling explanation - luckily this time the guy kept it short. "Alright, so keep an eye out for Arkhive people wanting to spread the good word of the plant god. Got it." He pauses, thinking. "Shouldn't be a hard sell, we live in a jungle after all."

[Epinephrine_Syn]

Smirking at the suggestion of state secrets, Hekla splits off from the discourse to roll her way over to where she and Hinrik will listen to the announcements of the Queen and Eilif Dhaoine in a few minutes. Hinrik, though, seems naively delighted by the development. "So, you have also sought means to defeat the scourge of death. I am sure our people would have much in common. Should you ever seek an alliance with our polity, I'm sure the Prince and Chancellor will see an obvious basis in our ideological overlap." He glances over in the direction of the stage. "It seems like they'll be starting soon." He briefly crouches down, offer his left (intact) hand to the tiny Titania for a shake. "It was good to meet you both; you must come to Verdalfheim sometime. Not to disparage this venue, but an island of greenery can never compare to the beauties of our jungle home."


"Indeed, I believe the same." Serenity gives a bow, while the smaller girl shakes his hand with the gloved one of her own. "Of course, I would love to. Oh, it's starting." Her gaze moves to the stage too, lifting herself up to find and stand on the chair for sufficient height to observe.



The commander pauses for a moment, considering his words. Not just what to say, but how to say it and how much to include - after all, this was a child and children elsewhere didn't need to grow up knowing all they can about the bàscail...but at the same time, this child was...off somehow. He couldn't put his finger on how. Alright then. They were here for diplomacy, he supposed, so he had to play along.

"Well. Hm. I suppose a good starting point is this point about identifying with the bàscail. That's...not quite the way we see it, we're not emulating or identifying with them, exactly. It's more like..." He gestures around vaguely for the word. "A testament to man's mastery over the monster. You see, we are lannan. Soldiers. Guards. Whatever you want to call it. We don't go out there into the jungle to pick fights or enjoy ourselves, we defend what is ours from the bàscail, and when we go out there, it's alone or with some friends, not to hunt a bàsclan for sport or glory like the sealga do, it's to destroy our target, whatever it is that's interfering with our people's prosperity. And so we wear armour made from hive-dwelling or swarming types of bàscail, because the fact that we have so many bodies for our artisans to work with is testament to our success, to the purpose of the lannan, and because in destroying that nest we made our homes safer, or claimed land for an outpost from which we become more prosperous as a people. We don't exactly think of them like trophies, like the sealga do, but...the word is still somewhat appropriate if I think about it some more."


Titania listens with rapt attention, smiling wide. At one point her expression twitches, but it's a flicker. "Ah, so the sealga, so it's a split between the different factions of your people, with moderately changing interpretations. It's effective in purpose to wear too, at least from how you describe the practicality based mindset." She grinned quite a bit. "I know the lands I come from have a lot of similar turmoil, and that we've ceded most of the livable areas to them."

The other girl chimes in again, giving her this look. "We have few enough people and can tame our wildlands enough. Our issues are solved to the degree we need to, although I can't say it is very safe for visitors to freely roam around." "I literally need an army escort to go down to the city ruins to go find toys. Y'all do not have it together. Plus, I'm trying to build kinship by highlighting our similar struggles." Small children do not typically engage in complex diplomacy, she at the very least seemed intelligent beyond her years even if her mannerisms and excitement were in line with the age group.

She turns back to him on the other side. "I hope that our increasing power and the gifts from the empire can help you all solidify safety and growth in your lands in a way beyond what your past generations were capable of."


He shrugs expansively within his robes. "It is not given to us lesser mortals to divine the intentions of our Emperor. Even I am but a piece upon the board, to be moved about by a guiding hand of a greater mind. Who can say what design this follows? Not this humble servant of his will. In all my long life, if I have learned one thing, it is that we must be content to follow the current of the wind and the water." His eyes twinkle. "Of course, that does not mean that we cannot adjust our sails. Take heart, my dear. Whatever purpose there is for you will be met by you, one way or another. Keep your eye on the horizon and your hand on the tiller, and I am sure all will be well."

If he is aware that he has entirely evaded the question, and the implied question behind it, he gives no sign. A hand emerges from within his robes with a small bit of candy. "Would you care for a honeyed locust? Some find them too sweet, but personally I think they are just right."

"How many are available, I agree that a variety of delicacies should be consumed, but I wouldn't want to swipe." Serenity comments it in a casual way, moving over to the imperial tables, looking over at him. Titania, meanwhile, is poking and turning some of the wheels on the nearby wheelchair, but not actually moving it, looking mildly fascinated.

"Though you stating something about wind and water makes me quite curious. I know comparatively little of the other sectors of the empire, but from what I understand there is relatively little water, or even wind in the proper sense, amongst them. If you do not want to discuss deeper matters, then perhaps at least some talk of what this glorious empire is like will do, especially since we are presently gifted with the reach to go see it all for ourselves soon enough."

[JBarca]

Strictly adhering to the adage "better late than never," the Khylokians arrive well into the advent of the Conference in spectacular fashion. The sonic boom of the descending spacecraft shakes the snow and ice from cliffs for miles, and crater their deceleration driver leaves is a scar on the land that only the magnanimous agreeableness of the Arkhive can forgive. Most of the landing craft remains intact, though threats and thefts inquiries are made of other attendees' crews regarding acquiring a few necessary parts for a return journey.

The Khylokians crowd into the park, dragging behind them a large metal sled topped with a thick canvas sheet covering some oblong shape a dozen feet high. The dozen or so warriors pulling the sled are sure to shoo away any curious scholars or suspicious guards, and a number of clawed hands stray toward brutal short choppers and blades when they catch sight of the Dhaoine lannan, but no violence is offered and no weapons are drawn.

The warriors, though, are much less intimidating than they might have been in their homes, for the metal struts and pistons supporting their legs and the fatty buildup along the thorax and head give them a top-heavy, wobbly appearance. They quickly move to find some food in shifts, deflating to their natural sizes and sagging under the atmosphere and gravity as they do.

From behind the cart appears a younger Khylokian woman, introduced as Omnuud khosee-Huel. She grins a toothy grin and gestures to the canvas.

"Queen! As promised, the Bloodlord sends to you a gift! Our engines are strong, and we are happy to share them! All have access to study our gift, though I will leave it with the queen when we depart. Have care, though! Only a sanguimancer can survive their use for long journeys, as the forces applied to the body can be quite destructive! Behold, a Khylokian Fusion Drive!"

The canvas is yanked back, revealing the device. To any with a technical eye, this device is only a propulsion tool in the loosest sense.

Rather, the delegation from the Khylokians has brought with them a massive fusion bomb.

Giving Nuclear Fusion to all attendees.

[Lumaeus]

He casts a sideways glance to where Cathal is feasting upon the purple fruit. "These provisions are rather lavish. An incredible contrast with the surrounding region, I must say. If I might inquire, to what manner of technology do you owe such a bountiful cornucopia?"

The Queen smiles. "You'll forgive me if I seem to begin with digression. The origins of the vault of the Arkhive are unclear, but the prevailing theory at this point is that an ancient civilization--or, more likely, an international effort, given the sheer breadth of specimens and likely origins--built this place on an inhospitable spit of land and stocked it with the seeds for their crops, that in the case of apocalypse the world might be reborn. We have no records that old, and the timescale is so extreme as to render archaeology little more than speculation. Our earliest definite histories come before the intelligent races discovered the vault, when somehow the first queen--bee, not mammal--made her way here to begin her own hive. I remember the general torpor under which she barely could function, feeding on the nectar of those few flowers which found the subterranean temperatures, barely above freezing, sufficient to bloom. Her children were the first generation of the Arkhive, but it took centuries--er, at least, that's considered likely. You must understand that the memories of bees are different than those you or I might form--it took centuries for the population to grow large enough to generate an appreciable warmth. But each new generation warmed the Hive, and each degree of warmth opened new flowers.

"When the first Queen of the Arkhive, Amelia Gayle, arrived--and here my memories grow clearer--it was already a paradisical wonderland. But each successive generation of Arkhivists has added their research into our stores, and our care is fastidious and exactingly adapted to each strain produced here. But...you have identified one of the secrets of the Arkhive. Not one we keep, of course, but one kept from us. The plants continue to adapt and grow richer each growing season faster than scientific estimate would suggest. There is little ambient radiation to spur mutation, few factors that would pressure evolution. Some of the faithful think it to be Coedd's direct intervention, which is difficult to rule out, given her planetary pluripresence. But I am of the belief that it is something to do with the same mechanism the bees have granted us. Memory holds, here, and in mea--pardon, in animal creatures it is transmitted by honey. Perhaps something akin to that, some sort of genetic learning, is facilitated in the plants as well."

The Queen smiles. "It is one of the more wonderfully frustrating puzzles to us. We would gladly turn over to you our collected research and invite your scholars to investigate if they should ever care to."




“Titania works for a name, and I’m glad to abuse your offer, Constance. Show me where the Jelly is made. I am very, very curious.”[/B] Serenity is in a giggling fit again, although quickly composes herself into an amused but refined smile, in contrast with the shark tooth wide bared grin the small girl had, her fingers in this overt gesture of drumming against each other.

“It would be curious to see, but not touch. This is a rare opportunity to observe in person.”

When there is the slightest gap between official obligations, the Queen appears to spirit Titania and Serenity away. Rather than heading to a distant part of the Arkhive, they are instead led deeper into the Royal Face, towards the most reserved areas of the Hive. Here is where the Queen's own chambers are kept, and where the official apparata of state reside. "In one of these cells," the Queen remarks as they pass nondescript and unmarked rooms, "The Ophonic Emperor's own engines are sitting for their first official use. We've done quite well in connecting our interplanetary delegations to other craft, which is an advantage because we're all four eyed nerds and thus cannot be trusted behind the wheel."

When she finally reaches the destination, Queen Constance turns back to her guests. "This is a sacred place. Not in a spiritual or religious sense, necessarily, though many will hold it to be, but in the sense of the reverence with which it is treated. Please understand the gravity." She then leads the group through a hexagonal portal into a hexagonal chamber connected by hexagonal portals to hexagonal chambers, all of which are lined with honeycombing hexagons made out of honeycomb. The walls are a blur of bees and the air thick with the insects. Though they give the guests a generous berth, the Queen becomes a common resting place for them, and she is soon enough crawling with the noble servants of light and life.

The Queen gives no sign of discomfort or unusual care as she points toward the far wall. "You see those larger cells, like honeycomb but large enough to fit a body? That's where Queens are entombed. The bees fill the cell with a special honey which absorbs our memories and bodies. Many, many more such cells are available to Arkhival citizens--outsiders too, I suppose, should any choose--but no Queen has ever died but she has been mellified. This is the honey on which the bees themselves feed. There are some who propose that if one of us ate of it, we would be empowered beyond even what royal jelly can do for us, but the bees have not permitted anyone to try."

The series of cells ring a central cell, and in this, the center of the floor is itself honeycomb. The Queen leads the party near, but not to, that floor. Each comb is filled with a gold-white substance, almost pearlescent. "The bees, fed on our memories and selves, produce the substance known as Royal Jelly, as well as the Honeyed Words more commonly consumed. These are the cells where it is made--where it is made for our consumption, that is, as they save much for themselves and their breeding--and it is from here it will be brought to us, as they will it."

The Queen smiles. "Any questions?"




Sealga's Guide to Sansar

The Queen is outwardly the picture of diplomatic grace in offering her thanks for the gift, but she spends the entire rest of the Conference paging/scrolling through the text when she seems to think she can get away with it, distracted except and unless there is a pressing diplomatic crisis or other Serious Situation to deal with.

[As an aside, you have gained Demi Perse! Take her, use her, I might do the same. Play with her as Coedd does the entire Arkhive.]



TO NASIR WHOM I EARLIER MISSED AND ALSO THE QUOTE FUNCTION ISN'T WORKING FOR ME BUT YOU CALLED YOUTH BITTER FRUIT
"If it were not such a joy to play host to such a dignified and illustrious cross section of our interplanetary community, I might too find boredom in a stuffy meet and greet with Elect fuddy-duddies. I remember being a teen so very many times, and across all of these, I do think there was a great pleasure in refusing to be pleased. We often disregard teenage experience as transitory, but there is no self that is not ephemeral, at least among mortals. We are simply pleased that they choose to have their fun, explicitly in not having fun, here with us." She smiles conspiratorially with the Empire's representative. Kids will be kids, and we can be bemused and befuddled together.

[Lumaeus]

Rather, the delegation from the Khylokians has brought with them a massive fusion bomb.


The Queen's initial smile at the Khylokian delegation, natural and warm, vitrifies in an instant as her eyes widen in a quiet, catastrophic panic. Her eyes glance first towards Arkhival staff, which is already moving to help indicate exit routes to interested delegations, then towards the Imperial representatives to see if they'll intercede. As for herself, she realizes her body is already moving as she walks towards the, uh, technological offering.

"The Arkhive is ever pleased to welcome such distinguished guests. And to be so richly favored with your findings is a double blessing. Please, forgive my avarice, but such is my, er, wonder at your offering that I can't help but assert my royal prerogative. I simply must insist that," here, her voice triples in volume, "Any willing engineers of the Arkhive immediately come and disar--disassemble this gift so we can safely...learn these advanced methods."

While her people move to act and messengers type away, the Queen turns her rictus towards the Khylokian leader, gesturing woodenly towards what banquet remains.

"Please, you must be hungry after your journey."

[Volthawk]

The reaction from the Eilif Dhaoine delegation is...rather more restrained than that of the Arkhive officials. The sealga and lannan exchange glances and communicate in a few quick hand signals while the lannan commander murmurs instructions to his men and Scorcha patiently watches the Khylokians, politely refusing the efforts of the staff to usher her away, until the lannan commander leans over and gives the opinion of the rest of the delegation, getting a nod from Scorcha.

With that, the delegation...stays where it is, the roving band of sealga even taking advantage of some newly-evacuated seats to join the other sealga band in sitting down and enjoying the food. Way they saw it, this was a threat - the commander was already getting reports how these people were outside hassling the crew of their transport and the lannan guarding it - and so the important thing was to give no ground to it and stare them down.

Well, most of the Dhaoine stare them down. One of the sealga, one of the group that's been loudly enjoying the food all through the banquet, breaks out into slow applause. "Fantastic. Truly, fantastic. What a show! But one that hardly seems well thought out if you people value your lives."

[moossabi]

Earliest Conversation in the Timeline now Occurring in the Latest Post of the Thread

The Queen smiles. "You'll forgive me if I seem to begin with digression. The origins of the vault of the Arkhive are unclear, but the prevailing theory at this point is that an ancient civilization--or, more likely, an international effort, given the sheer breadth of specimens and likely origins--built this place on an inhospitable spit of land and stocked it with the seeds for their crops, that in the case of apocalypse the world might be reborn. We have no records that old, and the timescale is so extreme as to render archaeology little more than speculation. Our earliest definite histories come before the intelligent races discovered the vault, when somehow the first queen--bee, not mammal--made her way here to begin her own hive. I remember the general torpor under which she barely could function, feeding on the nectar of those few flowers which found the subterranean temperatures, barely above freezing, sufficient to bloom. Her children were the first generation of the Arkhive, but it took centuries--er, at least, that's considered likely. You must understand that the memories of bees are different than those you or I might form--it took centuries for the population to grow large enough to generate an appreciable warmth. But each new generation warmed the Hive, and each degree of warmth opened new flowers.

"When the first Queen of the Arkhive, Amelia Gayle, arrived--and here my memories grow clearer--it was already a paradisical wonderland. But each successive generation of Arkhivists has added their research into our stores, and our care is fastidious and exactingly adapted to each strain produced here. But...you have identified one of the secrets of the Arkhive. Not one we keep, of course, but one kept from us. The plants continue to adapt and grow richer each growing season faster than scientific estimate would suggest. There is little ambient radiation to spur mutation, few factors that would pressure evolution. Some of the faithful think it to be Coedd's direct intervention, which is difficult to rule out, given her planetary pluripresence. But I am of the belief that it is something to do with the same mechanism the bees have granted us. Memory holds, here, and in mea--pardon, in animal creatures it is transmitted by honey. Perhaps something akin to that, some sort of genetic learning, is facilitated in the plants as well."

The Queen smiles. "It is one of the more wonderfully frustrating puzzles to us. We would gladly turn over to you our collected research and invite your scholars to investigate if they should ever care to."

Despite initiating the inquiry and his persistent nodding along, Hinrik is obviously incapable of fully keeping up with the historical information. Hekla, by contrast, seems to hang on every word. "I’m sure there are many among our Druids who would be eager to partake in such a mystery."

She smiles courteously while her brother clears his throat. "I would not wish to waste all of your time on us, as there are other guests to meet and greet. We’ll find our way to accommodations, perhaps continue a discourse later.” He offers another curt bow, reflecting the apparent Arkhival custom, before the duo moves to proceed.

[Probably safe to end the time bubble here!]

Old Man offers Candy to Feminine Stranger, then a Bomb Threat

He shrugs expansively within his robes. "It is not given to us lesser mortals to divine the intentions of our Emperor. Even I am but a piece upon the board, to be moved about by a guiding hand of a greater mind. Who can say what design this follows? Not this humble servant of his will. In all my long life, if I have learned one thing, it is that we must be content to follow the current of the wind and the water." His eyes twinkle. "Of course, that does not mean that we cannot adjust our sails. Take heart, my dear. Whatever purpose there is for you will be met by you, one way or another. Keep your eye on the horizon and your hand on the tiller, and I am sure all will be well."

If he is aware that he has entirely evaded the question, and the implied question behind it, he gives no sign. A hand emerges from within his robes with a small bit of candy. "Would you care for a honeyed locust? Some find them too sweet, but personally I think they are just right."

The woman casually shakes her head while lowering her gaze. "I trust in your taste, but such fineries are beyond the purview of my appetite." Gleaning insight into Imperial designs was already a long shot, though the dismissal confirmed far less than Hekla had hoped for. Obviously the Emperor's will was their own (as much as one single will could realistically be ascribed to the role) and he could obviously go without explaining his internal reasoning to underlings like Nasir, but it was bizarre that the High Lord had not even attempted to offer a theory on the matter, not even something as simple as the alternate disposition of a newly succeeded heir. For one seemingly dedicated to shirking the formalities of his office, he was certainly a firm adherent to Imperial dogma. She chooses not to dignify the vagaries with a response; if he knew nothing more it would be a waste of time, and if he knew more than he was letting on she was in no position to extract it.

Hekla's scarlet eyes venture towards the corner in which the High Lord's grandchildren sulk, thinking through a different path to her goal of acquiring knowledge of life at Court. "Do you produce these locusts on Ophon, or are they a local delica-" Her words are cut off by the revelation of the gigantic bomb, at which her mouth drops before she hastily reseals it and turns back to the High Lord, hoping nobody saw. ”Who-?” An irrelevant question. ”Did you know-?” An unwarrantedly hostile question. ”Can you de-escalate this? Help the Queen keep them talking?”

Continued Imperialist Map-Parving, then a Bomb Threat

Scorcha notes the phrase 'Greater Alfheim' with interest as she listens to the elf's little speech - it seemed like her man was right. Caornag-iomnach - vigilant hives, a term originally used when dealing with the bàscail that took on new life during the unification period, for those who jealously guarded all the territory around themselves and treated anything that looked like a threat to that land with aggression. Those city-states were the few cases where larger-scale combat was necessary. This time around...well, there was no need to provoke the hive when it wasn't necessary. Everyone in the Reserve learned that lesson in one way or another before long.

With that in mind, she doesn't really need to see the map to know what it is these people want - all the land around the area where they currently lived, including...hm. Over the mountains too, interesting. And that eastern landmass...one of the space elevators, huh? Well, she couldn't judge there, if the talks the Dhaoine were currently in went well. But beyond that...ah yes. Explaining away her father's actions, of course. At least these elves weren't hypocrites. "It's simple. We need more land, and strong allies, and our current efforts are a two-pronged endeavour to secure both. To the west of the Reserve, we have my father's campaign on the mainland - what I understand to be called Zabava. Once we have those, those that which to leave the Reserve's cities will have somewhere else within Eilif Dhaoine to live. And to the east...well, to put it simply, our people found out about the people that lived there - I'm sure you've had more experience with them than we have, with the amount of 'adventurers' based in those parts, drawn by the ruined elevator as I understand it...and then we decided that making allies with those people was much more favourable to other means. So far it's going..." Scorcha gives a small shrug. "They're an interesting group people to try to deal with. However, as far as broader issues are concerned...we have no intentions of taking land within Greater Alfheim, no. Once we're done with our current targets, what happens next will depend on the situation, of course, but I don't see why we'd ever need to attempt to take land you have a claim over. There is still plenty of Sansar outside of Alfheim, after all."

"Of course; I never doubted that your intent lay elsewhere, as I do not doubt that my siblings' dash for glory will be sated well before any conflict could arise between us." He smiles yet again, a giddy enthusiasm playing across his eyes. "You speak of a desire for strong allies, and though I would loathe to exaggerate our capabilities you have stated yourself that our Principality boasts a great military capacity. If you are interested, I may be able to convince the Chancellor to-”

Like his sister, he trails off as all eyes fall upon the elephant-sized bomb in the room. Immediately he scans the garden for his sister- off with the High Lord, good. Wait, no, that’s a bomb, diplomatic immunity can’t protect against high-yield explosive payloads. He grits his teeth and swipes the map off the table, rolling it up haphazardly as the Queen manages the crisis. "Offworlders.” Hinrik spits the word out as if it is a slur. "Of course these uncouth savages would be so idiotic. I swear, why these things were ever deemed worthy by the Emperor is beyond me. It’s almost an insult...”

[Epinephrine_Syn]

Strictly adhering to the adage "better late than never," the Khylokians arrive well into the advent of the Conference in spectacular fashion. The sonic boom of the descending spacecraft shakes the snow and ice from cliffs for miles, and crater their deceleration driver leaves is a scar on the land that only the magnanimous agreeableness of the Arkhive can forgive. Most of the landing craft remains intact, though threats and thefts inquiries are made of other attendees' crews regarding acquiring a few necessary parts for a return journey.

The Khylokians crowd into the park, dragging behind them a large metal sled topped with a thick canvas sheet covering some oblong shape a dozen feet high. The dozen or so warriors pulling the sled are sure to shoo away any curious scholars or suspicious guards, and a number of clawed hands stray toward brutal short choppers and blades when they catch sight of the Dhaoine lannan, but no violence is offered and no weapons are drawn.

The warriors, though, are much less intimidating than they might have been in their homes, for the metal struts and pistons supporting their legs and the fatty buildup along the thorax and head give them a top-heavy, wobbly appearance. They quickly move to find some food in shifts, deflating to their natural sizes and sagging under the atmosphere and gravity as they do.

From behind the cart appears a younger Khylokian woman, introduced as Omnuud khosee-Huel. She grins a toothy grin and gestures to the canvas.

"Queen! As promised, the Bloodlord sends to you a gift! Our engines are strong, and we are happy to share them! All have access to study our gift, though I will leave it with the queen when we depart. Have care, though! Only a sanguimancer can survive their use for long journeys, as the forces applied to the body can be quite destructive! Behold, a Khylokian Fusion Drive!"

The canvas is yanked back, revealing the device. To any with a technical eye, this device is only a propulsion tool in the loosest sense.

Rather, the delegation from the Khylokians has brought with them a massive fusion bomb.

Giving Nuclear Fusion to all attendees.

Serenity looks mildly pleased and amused, as if some exotic dancer came onto the floor, unconcerned with the presence of a nuclear bomb. She laughs a little, everyone distracted, and with her previous question of a treat forgotten to the imperial in favor of watching the scene go on with fascination.

Titania, meanwhile, looks enraptured, and is walking at a moderately fast pace towards the new delegation and their payload. This naturally provokes a reaction from Serenity, the fear wide eyed look seemingly directed at her younger charge rather than at the bomb itself.

For a split second the royal ruler’s form seems to shift, taking on something pure white, with spikes and lights and flames and chains as something that looks like a leg sized tendril wraps around Titania’s waist and drags her back into the totally-normal-looking Serenity’s arms, who begins grappling her firmly despite the new kicking and shouting.

“No!”-“Hey!”

“Don’t touch that.”
“But-! I know what it is! Can you imagine what I could do with that?”
“Yes I you have accurately identified my cause for concern!”

The invocation of the sigil seems to calm Titania down, her breathing out slowly. She’s still pouting a little. Meanwhile, one of the side character Moonmen of high friendship and import but as of currently hasn't revealed their name starts to whisper into Serenity's ear. “You know, somebody might mess up and blow this conference sky high.”

To which Serenity responds, a little flippantly, catching her breath and sighing in relief, “Yes, but the worst that happens is all the non-moonmen die and we get ****ed up real badly. If she touches it this mess might become our fault. Plus, if little miss necroplancy works her magic the Moonsoul Mountains might get caught in the blast radius.”
“I… excuse me but how would she do that?”
“We’ll get you your own to play with eventually, okay I?”
"Oooooo~"
“And why are you promising her one if that’s your concern?!?”

[Epinephrine_Syn]

When there is the slightest gap between official obligations, the Queen appears to spirit Titania and Serenity away. Rather than heading to a distant part of the Arkhive, they are instead led deeper into the Royal Face, towards the most reserved areas of the Hive. Here is where the Queen's own chambers are kept, and where the official apparata of state reside. "In one of these cells," the Queen remarks as they pass nondescript and unmarked rooms, "The Ophonic Emperor's own engines are sitting for their first official use. We've done quite well in connecting our interplanetary delegations to other craft, which is an advantage because we're all four eyed nerds and thus cannot be trusted behind the wheel."

Serenity giggles at this joke, with Titania looking up at her elder in a curious way as if to ask "... what?"


When she finally reaches the destination, Queen Constance turns back to her guests. "This is a sacred place. Not in a spiritual or religious sense, necessarily, though many will hold it to be, but in the sense of the reverence with which it is treated. Please understand the gravity." She then leads the group through a hexagonal portal into a hexagonal chamber connected by hexagonal portals to hexagonal chambers, all of which are lined with honeycombing hexagons made out of honeycomb. The walls are a blur of bees and the air thick with the insects. Though they give the guests a generous berth, the Queen becomes a common resting place for them, and she is soon enough crawling with the noble servants of light and life.

The Queen gives no sign of discomfort or unusual care as she points toward the far wall. "You see those larger cells, like honeycomb but large enough to fit a body? That's where Queens are entombed. The bees fill the cell with a special honey which absorbs our memories and bodies. Many, many more such cells are available to Arkhival citizens--outsiders too, I suppose, should any choose--but no Queen has ever died but she has been mellified. This is the honey on which the bees themselves feed. There are some who propose that if one of us ate of it, we would be empowered beyond even what royal jelly can do for us, but the bees have not permitted anyone to try."

The series of cells ring a central cell, and in this, the center of the floor is itself honeycomb. The Queen leads the party near, but not to, that floor. Each comb is filled with a gold-white substance, almost pearlescent. "The bees, fed on our memories and selves, produce the substance known as Royal Jelly, as well as the Honeyed Words more commonly consumed. These are the cells where it is made--where it is made for our consumption, that is, as they save much for themselves and their breeding--and it is from here it will be brought to us, as they will it."

The Queen smiles. "Any questions?"

To perhaps the surprise of both the royals, Titania seems to take to the gravity of this place with reverence and politeness. She's got quite a bit of wonder in her eyes, but the energetic motions snap into something reserved, at most the little girl reaching out with a hand, though never coming close to touching anything. Serenity looks around too, awed and much more visibly impressed.

"Wow." The queen mutters, looking around at this place. "It's like a giant core... like walking around inside an exhibit of a..."

"I'm not sure I have questions, merely observing how grand this architecture is more than enough." She makes some buzzing sounds, ones that sounds way too bug like for a human throat to be capable of, but they don't sound like a bee, perse.

"... oh, here's one? I'm guessing you all have a tradition of joining into the core when you die? So it is your hope, or mission, or somesuch, to eventually partake in a bath in these cells? I wouldn't want to dip into one of these myself, but it's very much a holy quest type of deal. I'm glad I didn't yet taste the royal jelly, it's going to be a lot more special knowing how it's made."

[Silent_Interim]

A Pleasant Conversation From Earlier

TO NASIR WHOM I EARLIER MISSED AND ALSO THE QUOTE FUNCTION ISN'T WORKING FOR ME BUT YOU CALLED YOUTH BITTER FRUIT
"If it were not such a joy to play host to such a dignified and illustrious cross section of our interplanetary community, I might too find boredom in a stuffy meet and greet with Elect fuddy-duddies. I remember being a teen so very many times, and across all of these, I do think there was a great pleasure in refusing to be pleased. We often disregard teenage experience as transitory, but there is no self that is not ephemeral, at least among mortals. We are simply pleased that they choose to have their fun, explicitly in not having fun, here with us." She smiles conspiratorially with the Empire's representative. Kids will be kids, and we can be bemused and befuddled together.

"Stuffy?" Nasir puts a hand on his chest and flings the other wide, an expression of mock horror rather spoiled by his twinkling eyes punctuating the gesture. "You do yourself a great disservice, my dear." He lets his hands settle down, and the mock horror gives way to a genuine smile. "But you have the right of it; I am simply old, and have my own ephemeral indulgences. It is the privilege of the elderly to mock the young, would you not agree?"

Well, This Is Happening Now

Strictly adhering to the adage "better late than never," the Khylokians arrive well into the advent of the Conference in spectacular fashion. The sonic boom of the descending spacecraft shakes the snow and ice from cliffs for miles, and crater their deceleration driver leaves is a scar on the land that only the magnanimous agreeableness of the Arkhive can forgive. Most of the landing craft remains intact, though threats and thefts inquiries are made of other attendees' crews regarding acquiring a few necessary parts for a return journey.

The Khylokians crowd into the park, dragging behind them a large metal sled topped with a thick canvas sheet covering some oblong shape a dozen feet high. The dozen or so warriors pulling the sled are sure to shoo away any curious scholars or suspicious guards, and a number of clawed hands stray toward brutal short choppers and blades when they catch sight of the Dhaoine lannan, but no violence is offered and no weapons are drawn.

The warriors, though, are much less intimidating than they might have been in their homes, for the metal struts and pistons supporting their legs and the fatty buildup along the thorax and head give them a top-heavy, wobbly appearance. They quickly move to find some food in shifts, deflating to their natural sizes and sagging under the atmosphere and gravity as they do.

From behind the cart appears a younger Khylokian woman, introduced as Omnuud khosee-Huel. She grins a toothy grin and gestures to the canvas.

"Queen! As promised, the Bloodlord sends to you a gift! Our engines are strong, and we are happy to share them! All have access to study our gift, though I will leave it with the queen when we depart. Have care, though! Only a sanguimancer can survive their use for long journeys, as the forces applied to the body can be quite destructive! Behold, a Khylokian Fusion Drive!"

The canvas is yanked back, revealing the device. To any with a technical eye, this device is only a propulsion tool in the loosest sense.

Rather, the delegation from the Khylokians has brought with them a massive fusion bomb.

Giving Nuclear Fusion to all attendees.

"How many are available, I agree that a variety of delicacies should be consumed, but I wouldn't want to swipe." Serenity comments it in a casual way, moving over to the imperial tables, looking over at him. Titania, meanwhile, is poking and turning some of the wheels on the nearby wheelchair, but not actually moving it, looking mildly fascinated.

"Though you stating something about wind and water makes me quite curious. I know comparatively little of the other sectors of the empire, but from what I understand there is relatively little water, or even wind in the proper sense, amongst them. If you do not want to discuss deeper matters, then perhaps at least some talk of what this glorious empire is like will do, especially since we are presently gifted with the reach to go see it all for ourselves soon enough."

Old Man offers Candy to Feminine Stranger, then a Bomb Threat
The woman casually shakes her head while lowering her gaze. "I trust in your taste, but such fineries are beyond the purview of my appetite." Gleaning insight into Imperial designs was already a long shot, though the dismissal confirmed far less than Hekla had hoped for. Obviously the Emperor's will was their own (as much as one single will could realistically be ascribed to the role) and he could obviously go without explaining his internal reasoning to underlings like Nasir, but it was bizarre that the High Lord had not even attempted to offer a theory on the matter, not even something as simple as the alternate disposition of a newly succeeded heir. For one seemingly dedicated to shirking the formalities of his office, he was certainly a firm adherent to Imperial dogma. She chooses not to dignify the vagaries with a response; if he knew nothing more it would be a waste of time, and if he knew more than he was letting on she was in no position to extract it.

Hekla's scarlet eyes venture towards the corner in which the High Lord's grandchildren sulk, thinking through a different path to her goal of acquiring knowledge of life at Court. "Do you produce these locusts on Ophon, or are they a local delica-" Her words are cut off by the revelation of the gigantic bomb, at which her mouth drops before she hastily reseals it and turns back to the High Lord, hoping nobody saw. ”Who-?” An irrelevant question. ”Did you know-?” An unwarrantedly hostile question. ”Can you de-escalate this? Help the Queen keep them talking?”


Serenity looks mildly pleased and amused, as if some exotic dancer came onto the floor, unconcerned with the presence of a nuclear bomb. She laughs a little, everyone distracted, and with her previous question of a treat forgotten to the imperial in favor of watching the scene go on with fascination.

Titania, meanwhile, looks enraptured, and is walking at a moderately fast pace towards the new delegation and their payload. This naturally provokes a reaction from Serenity, the fear wide eyed look seemingly directed at her younger charge rather than at the bomb itself.

For a split second the royal ruler’s form seems to shift, taking on something pure white, with spikes and lights and flames and chains as something that looks like a leg sized tendril wraps around Titania’s waist and drags her back into the totally-normal-looking Serenity’s arms, who begins grappling her firmly despite the new kicking and shouting.

“No!”-“Hey!”

“Don’t touch that.”
“But-! I know what it is! Can you imagine what I could do with that?”
“Yes I you have accurately identified my cause for concern!”

The invocation of the sigil seems to calm Titania down, her breathing out slowly. She’s still pouting a little.

“You know, somebody might mess up and blow this conference sky high.”
“Yes, but the worst that happens is all the non-moonmen die and we get ****ed up real badly. If she touches it this mess might become our fault. Plus, if little miss necroplancy works her magic the Moonsoul Mountains might get caught in the blast radius.”
“I… excuse me but how would she do that?”
“We’ll get you your own to play with eventually, okay I?”
"Oooooo~"
“And why are you promising her one if that’s your concern?!?”

The Queen's initial smile at the Khylokian delegation, natural and warm, vitrifies in an instant as her eyes widen in a quiet, catastrophic panic. Her eyes glance first towards Arkhival staff, which is already moving to help indicate exit routes to interested delegations, then towards the Imperial representatives to see if they'll intercede. As for herself, she realizes her body is already moving as she walks towards the, uh, technological offering.

"The Arkhive is ever pleased to welcome such distinguished guests. And to be so richly favored with your findings is a double blessing. Please, forgive my avarice, but such is my, er, wonder at your offering that I can't help but assert my royal prerogative. I simply must insist that," here, her voice triples in volume, "Any willing engineers of the Arkhive immediately come and disar--disassemble this gift so we can safely...learn these advanced methods."

While her people move to act and messengers type away, the Queen turns her rictus towards the Khylokian leader, gesturing woodenly towards what banquet remains.

"Please, you must be hungry after your journey."

The High Lord, about to rally in the face of a stream of questions, seems just as blindsided by the reveal of the bomb as everyone around him. Still, after only a moment of hesitation, he gathers himself, hand with the candied locust slipping back into his robes. He whistles, two low short notes and a longer high one, and his grandchildren are attending him, one standing ready behind each shoulder, looking alert and ready for action.

He approaches the Khylokian delegation with a wide smile and sharp eyes, falling in to a position just behind at to one side of the desperately interceding Queen, deferential but still authoritative.

"A curious means of propulsion. Most creative, though. And messy, if it goes wrong." His tone is mild.

[SerakHawk]

Having been content to feast on the spoils provided by the gracious Arkhive and listen to the commotion all around them the news of a fusion reactor live in the room perked up several of the Jy'mar people and the Illustrated Prime Marcus himself, Some Protectorate start rounding up the Illumined Utopian delegation and whisk Marcus into their transport. A group of Jy'mar in white coats break free of the Protectorate cordon piling onto a hovering platform, pushing and shoving for space on it before it takes off to approach the Khylokian delegation.


The High Lord, about to rally in the face of a stream of questions, seems just as blindsided by the reveal of the bomb as everyone around him. Still, after only a moment of hesitation, he gathers himself, hand with the candied locust slipping back into his robes. He whistles, two low short notes and a longer high one, and his grandchildren are attending him, one standing ready behind each shoulder, looking alert and ready for action.

He approaches the Khylokian delegation with a wide smile and sharp eyes, falling in to a position just behind at to one side of the desperately interceding Queen, deferential but still authoritative.

"A curious means of propulsion. Most creative, though. And messy, if it goes wrong." His tone is mild.

A bundle of Jy'mar crowd around on their hovering platform as it floats past the High Lord toward the fusion bomb. Several of them are quickly donning Protective Radiation gear the group approaches the bomb.

A crackle and pop sound from a contraption on the platform before the Jy'mar's voices are amplified as a series of Jy'mar in white coats push and shove each other to yell out questions. "Ho up there, may we approach the device for study? Is it active? Does it leak radiation? <My readings don't seem to have a spike in radiation what about...> What is its power ratings? Are we in danger of it going off? <of course we are you idiot> Do you have a remote for the device? Do you have extras we could disassemble? Are there more? <someone said that already - its my turn> What are the primary elements in the fusion?" A squeal from the amplifier and a muted pop with a wisp of black smoke silences the Jy'mar. The Scientists quickly scamble on the platform to put the amplifier back together while others fight over the radiation gear.

[Elemental]

The event was already well under way when Sarah Huddleston Shadowclaw, Assistant Minister of Agriculture, finally arrived at the banquet. She'd chosen to wear a long dress in Veehran red with her long blonde hair tied back with matching ribbons. Over the top she wore a soft brown coat and a bright purple and gold neckerchief that did not match. In one hand she carried a heavy, sealed briefcase marked "botanical samples" in Imperial.

She walked in nonchalantly, looking down at her wristwatch to check the time, "So sorry I'm late, the biosecurity agents were very excited about the-" It's then that she looked up and saw the bomb and went very pale. "Oh, oh dear... That's a fusion detonator... What sort of banquet is this!? If this is a jest it is in poor taste!"

[farothel]

When the chance comes to catch the delegation between their diplomacies and discussions, the Queen thanks them personally for their generosity. "If you would care for it, we would be pleased to dedicate a portion of our island to a training facility for the maintenance engineers you mentioned. A unified point of contact to ease the process for everyone. And we will always gladly pay host to any of your people, whether they come to train or to visit."


"That would be most satisfactory," count Choraria said, "I'm sure our delegations can work out the details."

Beyond that he would mingle with the other delegations to get to know as many of the other delegates as possible.

[Volthawk]

Having comitted to staying and staring down the new threat (and heckling it in the case of that one sealga and his hangers-on), the representatives of Eilif Dhaoine watch some of the other delegates start to try to deal with the bomb with interest - after all, they may be putting out the air that they're not concerned about the threat, but a bomb is a bomb, and it getting dealt with sooner rather than later would be preferred.

The lannan commander watches the child (sort of? He still wasn't sure what was going on there) he was just having a conversation with approach the bomb before getting...pulled back by...that wasn't anything human. Looks like his instincts were right, there was something off there after all. Who were these people, really?

The Imperial representative approaching and discussing the bomb/engine/bit of both with nonchalance gets a respectful nod from some of the Dhaoine present. Looks like the Empire knew how to deal with threats like this properly. Good.

The Jy'mar technicians joining the Arkhive engineers in investigating the bomb also gets a fair bit of attention. The Eilif Dhaoine doesn't have much in the way of technically-trained people - the technology they were here to share was biological in nature, after all, and biologists and genetic engineers were not nuclear physicists or combat engineers. What they saw so far gave them...a little bit of hope, but not that much.

The appearance of a new face gets the attention of the sealga that had been appluading the Khylokians, and he gives Sarah a laugh and a wave before beckoning her over. "Oh come in, come in! One of the offworlders just decided to gift us that bomb right there, so pull up a seat and join us in watching how it all plays out!"

[Feathersnow]

One of the two groups ends up gravitating towards the Glix, drawn towards the strangeness and a little entertained by the trouble they seem to be having with the food. Their leader, a tall woman dressed for the field, walks up to them and clears her throat. "Hey, if you're having trouble with that, I can help. Should have some meat back on the boat, nailed one of the swimming buggers on the way here. Wouldn't be hard to drag it down here and get some cuts for you."


"She who is called The Hammer thanks you for your gracious gift." The Queen, a creature in profile similar to a walrus but six foot at the shoulder, waves a flipper magnanimously in salute.

The Herald looks at the tall woman. "It is an honor to be the first Glix to eat Bugulon since the Captivity."

Later

The Glix are shocked. To bring a weapon in range of a Queen is a great failure for every Worker.

But not that shocked. The Khylokians were known to be crazy. But not that crazy. Surely they didn't mean to detonate it. Surely...

[Stygian]

In the sudden quiet that has overtaken the hall, Navarch Tuahine is only moments behind the minister from Ishtahnos.

Perhaps the nine foot tall kanmarran official didn’t get the latest bulletins on Imperial fashion—as she arrives in a lightweight suit of composite body armor. A sleeveless, open cloak spills down to mid-thigh as a matter of personalized attire—with the insignia of the Alliance emblazoned on the right lapel. On her belt rests what appears to be a stun baton—or perhaps a stun maul might have been a more appropriate description, given the weight and bulky construction of the implement.

A male escorts her on either side, though they seem to be in something more akin to civilian dress compared to the Navarch—with lighter, synthetic fibers that hang loosely from their bulky carapace.

On seeing the spectacle on display, Tuahine steps forward and gestures for one of the kanmarran engineers to inspect the .. gracious gift bestowed on the Arkhive. While she was far from an expert in nuclear physics, the Navarch at least seemed to recognize the threat posed. One male skitters closer, producing a small handheld device that seems to click and whir incessantly as it produces what one could surmise as energy readings.

”…Figures. If someone wished to declare war, this is certainly a brazen way to do it. I would almost respect the audacity, were it not so crude.”

“My apologies for being late, Queen Constance.”

There was novelty in walking into a room and not being the cause for commotion.

[Lt-Murgen]

Ending the Coedd Conversation, maybe?

Padraig pauses in his hurray over to translation duties. "I'm almost certain Coedd would send a...oh, the exact explanation is difficult but I'll say 'representative' to you for conversation and dissection. It's really not like, say, us doing the same. It's more like sending a hair sample or something for them, but a hair sample that can talk. They won't know anything from Coedd since that part left - and might not even know everything Coedd knows depending on how much of itself Coedd chooses to implant." he purses his lips for a second nd seems about to launch into a long and highly specialist elaboration before visibly refraining himself. "But then you can analyse it to look at the chemical pathways. Honestly, Coedd doesn't care, it's how we learnt a lot, back when we were first getting to grips with it all. I mean, I can't entirely speak for Coedd obviously, but I really doubt they'd be unwilling to do that. There's something, it's strnge Coedd has never cared about not-Coedd-meat before..." "

Not to worry, honored translator. My Chairperson will ensure that the talking hair sample is well treated and cared for. It should provide our experts in biochemistry decades of new research opportunities. And we will, of course, share our findings. But if you'll excuse me, a small delegation from another aerostat has just arrived. I must depart to greet my planet-mates. Please extend the gratitude of all my people to the honored Coedd."


A Bomb? Nah.
With their conversation with the Jy'Mar cut short by the arrival of a fusion device, Senior Advisor Quinn followed the Jy'Mar technicians. A quick tap on the bulky wrist bracer notified a specific sub-Advisor to join them. Advisor Parker Sydney Haley Quinn joined them within moments, and they moved together to within a few steps of the device. The pair closed their eyes and extended both hands, palms up and fingers spread. Their 'magical' senses extended, they studied the device. Its electrical flow and magnetic fluxuations. Its thermal, density, and vibrational characteristics. They quickly lapsed into their native tongue, discussing their analysis "…monozonic supercavity…. Inverted vacuum turbine 9.8-11.2 nominal…ATC clean through Px and Zx….. …cavitation in alpha, theta, & Rho waveforms….. ion collectors do not seem deliberate…. anomolous diactis….. caesium spore AND sprue type 4,6,9 and 11.…. Their expressions grew concerned.

[Corona]

Strictly adhering to the adage "better late than never," the Khylokians arrive well into the advent of the Conference in spectacular fashion. The sonic boom of the descending spacecraft shakes the snow and ice from cliffs for miles, and crater their deceleration driver leaves is a scar on the land that only the magnanimous agreeableness of the Arkhive can forgive. Most of the landing craft remains intact, though threats and thefts inquiries are made of other attendees' crews regarding acquiring a few necessary parts for a return journey.

The Khylokians crowd into the park, dragging behind them a large metal sled topped with a thick canvas sheet covering some oblong shape a dozen feet high. The dozen or so warriors pulling the sled are sure to shoo away any curious scholars or suspicious guards, and a number of clawed hands stray toward brutal short choppers and blades when they catch sight of the Dhaoine lannan, but no violence is offered and no weapons are drawn.

The warriors, though, are much less intimidating than they might have been in their homes, for the metal struts and pistons supporting their legs and the fatty buildup along the thorax and head give them a top-heavy, wobbly appearance. They quickly move to find some food in shifts, deflating to their natural sizes and sagging under the atmosphere and gravity as they do.

From behind the cart appears a younger Khylokian woman, introduced as Omnuud khosee-Huel. She grins a toothy grin and gestures to the canvas.

"Queen! As promised, the Bloodlord sends to you a gift! Our engines are strong, and we are happy to share them! All have access to study our gift, though I will leave it with the queen when we depart. Have care, though! Only a sanguimancer can survive their use for long journeys, as the forces applied to the body can be quite destructive! Behold, a Khylokian Fusion Drive!"

The canvas is yanked back, revealing the device. To any with a technical eye, this device is only a propulsion tool in the loosest sense.

Rather, the delegation from the Khylokians has brought with them a massive fusion bomb.

Giving Nuclear Fusion to all attendees.


Having been content to feast on the spoils provided by the gracious Arkhive and listen to the commotion all around them the news of a fusion reactor live in the room perked up several of the Jy'mar people and the Illustrated Prime Marcus himself, Some Protectorate start rounding up the Illumined Utopian delegation and whisk Marcus into their transport. A group of Jy'mar in white coats break free of the Protectorate cordon piling onto a hovering platform, pushing and shoving for space on it before it takes off to approach the Khylokian delegation.



A bundle of Jy'mar crowd around on their hovering platform as it floats past the High Lord toward the fusion bomb. Several of them are quickly donning Protective Radiation gear the group approaches the bomb.

A crackle and pop sound from a contraption on the platform before the Jy'mar's voices are amplified as a series of Jy'mar in white coats push and shove each other to yell out questions. "Ho up there, may we approach the device for study? Is it active? Does it leak radiation? <My readings don't seem to have a spike in radiation what about...> What is its power ratings? Are we in danger of it going off? <of course we are you idiot> Do you have a remote for the device? Do you have extras we could disassemble? Are there more? <someone said that already - its my turn> What are the primary elements in the fusion?" A squeal from the amplifier and a muted pop with a wisp of black smoke silences the Jy'mar. The Scientists quickly scamble on the platform to put the amplifier back together while others fight over the radiation gear.



Cpt. Mech is also taken by surprise by the bomb. She pinches a wire - attached to her head-scales with its end hanging by her cheek - between her fingers and starts talking into it to urgently order engineers from the Kanite ship. However, seeing that ...mice? and some Arkhivists have already made to disarm the bomb, she figures she need not risk any more engineer lives and instead orders blast shields - makeshift ones, really more like steel plates and tables, to be put up around the bomb so that guests will not be harmed if there is a misstep. This is carried out by the suddenly numerous White Pawns soldiers, who rush in from just out of sight of the meeting area - they were waiting there so as not to give off an impression that they were trying to intimidate anyone.

The Captain then straightens her back and glares at Omnuud khosee-Huel. "You have quite the guts to try to strongarm the delegates of the first all-Sansar conference into submission. I admire courage, but what is too much is endangering civilians. By the Four Elements, I will have you regret this!" Like all Kanites who went through the public education system, Mech knows enough about fusion to know that this could hardly be a mistake. There were multiple levels of precautions in any fusion power plant, including mobile fusion generators.





Scorcha notes the phrase 'Greater Alfheim' with interest as she listens to the elf's little speech - it seemed like her man was right. Caornag-iomnach - vigilant hives, a term originally used when dealing with the bàscail that took on new life during the unification period, for those who jealously guarded all the territory around themselves and treated anything that looked like a threat to that land with aggression. Those city-states were the few cases where larger-scale combat was necessary. This time around...well, there was no need to provoke the hive when it wasn't necessary. Everyone in the Reserve learned that lesson in one way or another before long.

With that in mind, she doesn't really need to see the map to know what it is these people want - all the land around the area where they currently lived, including...hm. Over the mountains too, interesting. And that eastern landmass...one of the space elevators, huh? Well, she couldn't judge there, if the talks the Dhaoine were currently in went well. But beyond that...ah yes. Explaining away her father's actions, of course. At least these elves weren't hypocrites. "It's simple. We need more land, and strong allies, and our current efforts are a two-pronged endeavour to secure both. To the west of the Reserve, we have my father's campaign on the mainland - what I understand to be called Zabava. Once we have those, those that which to leave the Reserve's cities will have somewhere else within Eilif Dhaoine to live. And to the east...well, to put it simply, our people found out about the people that lived there - I'm sure you've had more experience with them than we have, with the amount of 'adventurers' based in those parts, drawn by the ruined elevator as I understand it...and then we decided that making allies with those people was much more favourable to other means. So far it's going..." Scorcha gives a small shrug. "They're an interesting group people to try to deal with. However, as far as broader issues are concerned...we have no intentions of taking land within Greater Alfheim, no. Once we're done with our current targets, what happens next will depend on the situation, of course, but I don't see why we'd ever need to attempt to take land you have a claim over. There is still plenty of Sansar outside of Alfheim, after all."


Ambassador Sladkor happens to hear an interesting conversation going on. Well, "happens to": he walked around and eavesdropped on numerous conversations until he heard this one, minimising his presence by appearing like an old man in fine but drab beige and brown clothing (very muted against the orange skin of a Kanite) with nothing important to say.

He doesn't bother with pleasantries, having said and heard enough of them here to last him the whole life, just giving Scorcha and Hinrik a smile as if he were a good friend joining the conversation.
"Indeed, that place is the southern tip of Zabava. I was there once and did not find it a particularly desirable place to live - the locals write too few books and paint too few pictures and this old man fancies himself a connoisseur of art, haha. But I suppose if you're willing to make such a colossal effort to move there, then all those rumors about the Reserve's dangers must have been true."

Sladkor pauses and addresses the elf. "This Greater Alfheim thing- I can say the White Pawns and the other states of Kan have no direct objections to this scheme, and I have to note that for our mercenaries, it would be a great honor to serve in your conquests." He furrows his brow, choosing his words carefully. "Surely you know the history of your own land well, Prince, being older than most of us here. But have you ever read a modern history of Kan? Two centuries ago, some hailed the coming of a Kanite state stretching in all directions towards the seashore. Now, most Kanites hesistate to even mention these times. There are a lot of interesting stories like that." He waves his hand in a noncommittal gesture to lighten his point.



[QUOTE=Lumaeus;25955229]Her Arkhival Majesty, Queen Constance of Comment the first, returns the bow, but formality cannot suppress the gleeful grin on her face as the treasures are presented.

"You have dug deep into your wells of treasure to bring such generous largess to our humble Hive, and yet you claim so much more? Truly, the legends of Kan ever-majestic find in me more creedence every day. It is an honor to host such a storied and generous people. When time allows, I'd be delighted if you would allow me to introduce you to some representatives of the nine hundred and thirtieth--they would almost certainly offer both their expertise on 'ancient baubles' as well as their aid, if you'd suffer them." She marvels. "Truly, a warmer gesture of friendship has never been given, and we hope ever to reciprocate."

The Queen pauses briefly, with a look of mild social embarassment crossing her face.

"There, ah, is also a young phytotheologian who has asked I petition your delegation for a meeting. He has a theory regarding the sacred properties of Ribnik and the influence of Coedd. The Arkhive itself remains officially disinterested in individual's religious expression, but there seem to be real scholarly merits to his initial considerations."



Tanchitsa nods with interest - genuine, though exaggerated in order to be polite - all through the Queen's speech, although she is a little surprised when she hears of Ribnik. "Then I would like to meet this phytotheologian. In fact, since the Emperor has shown us His light, we do not consider Ribnik sacred, but I do not mind a theological discussion. Theological discussions seem to be the thing I practice for all the time at home, anyway." The young priestess covers the lower part of her veil, that is, her already-covered mouth, thinking that her last sentence was a faux-pas.

[Frostwander]

Earlier introductions and conversations ...

The Arkhive

When the chance comes to speak individually (retainers aside): "We may bear the same title, but I fear I only diminish its true worth when compared to such a noble ruler. A true honor to have you in attendance. The world knows that the vineyards of Caipe Ushere are the finest in the world, and your gifts to all assembled are perhaps the greatest generosity of the day. I hope the humble technological offerings we have can begin to repay you, and I hope we can plant the seed of a friendship which will itself produce vines and bear fruit."
Queen Ebonne gives a polite smile in response. "A queen is a queen anywhere, and should not diminish herself - particularly not on her own soil."

After Constance's compliments, the usheret queen presents a single bottle that was close on hand for this conversation. "We appreciate the recognition, and look forward to working with the Arkhive. This particular vintage you might find personally enjoyable. It pairs particular well with sweeter delicacies like honeyed foods. We hope that it will add to a pleasurable evening, and also serve as an example of our two nations working in confluence. Your gathering of knowledge is commendable, and perhaps we can both benefits in trade of our best harvests."

Eilif Dhaoine

When the Eilif Dhaoine delegation is given the wine, naturally it goes to Scorcha and her lannan first. Once one of the lannan has tried some and given it an emphatic thumbs up, Scorcha pours out a glass for herself and gives it a try. Nodding, she gestures for one of the lannan to go over to the sealga group feasting and loudly talking and offer the bottle to them, and she quietly watches them drink it and enjoy it. Good. With that settled, she gets up and approaches the queen of Caipe Ushere. "Greetings. I must compliment you on the drink you offered to us. Wine, I believe it's called? Is this something you had to specially get for this, or something your people make a lot of?"
The queen in black gauges the younger woman for a moment, as if assessing whether this lack of familiarity is feigned or genuine. Despite Scorcha's earlier speech, there seems to be a brief adjustment that these people would not at least be aware of such basics of their neighbors. Her reply avoids any tones of condescension or belittlement, though. "Wine is among the finest products of our nation, and what you have tasted today a small sample of the best of our storied historical industry. We are glad to receive your compliments on it.

"Our people are close, geographically if not socially, yet. Now that your own have stepped into the broader worlds, we hope to be neighbors in more than simple physical proximity, and look forward to opportunities to work together for mutual betterment."


An Old Man And A Very Nice Bottle Of Wine
"Oh, now this is a gift worth having!" The High Lord fawns over the bottle presented to him, eyes wide with glee. "Oh, it has been too long since I have had the opportunity to enjoy a fine vintage. I have a small vineyard myself, but the wine there is like ash compared to the famous Caipe Ushere vintages. Truly, this is an honour. Perhaps we can arrange some sort of import agreement, there are some back on Ophon who would kill to have some of these bottles in their cellars. I wish only that I were speaking metaphorically; I will have to have my guards be extra-vigilant for assassins until I have drunk this."
The black queen gives a warm smile and a light laugh. "We are pleased that our offering meets your desires. And we would be glad to discuss an opportunity of trade. While I'm certain your guards are up to the task, such a hazard could be alleviated if there were a few more such gifts to go around." While she speaks, there is a clear look of understanding of such a hostile political climate. In such high echelons, a greater availability might merely inspire greater competition to obtain the master share.

"Truly, though, it is the very least token of our appreciation for the elevated gifts of technology and trust that the Emperor has bestowed on Caipe Ushere. We intend to show that such gifts will are taken seriously, and will not be squandered in fruitless or hollow pursuits. Time will give evidence of this, and we hope those deeds prove true the investiture."

------
The shocking reveal!

"Queen! As promised, the Bloodlord sends to you a gift! Our engines are strong, and we are happy to share them! All have access to study our gift, though I will leave it with the queen when we depart. Have care, though! Only a sanguimancer can survive their use for long journeys, as the forces applied to the body can be quite destructive! Behold, a Khylokian Fusion Drive!"

The canvas is yanked back, revealing the device. To any with a technical eye, this device is only a propulsion tool in the loosest sense.

Rather, the delegation from the Khylokians has brought with them a massive fusion bomb.
A bare second of shocked silence takes place before gasps and startled yelps emerge from most of the Usheret functionaries, a few standing near the queen, the rest scattered in various conversations about the park, as the danger is revealed. The single cavalier steps reflexively between Queen Ebonne and the device, one hand drawing the sabre into a guard position while the other begins tracing swirling geometries, fractal light spinning like thread from the pommel into the air in loops around her charge. The queen herself, however, has kept a cold demeanor at the presentation, and only by sheer force of self-control does not flinch with the realization. "Save your energy," she snaps at her protector in a harsh whisper. "A shield would do nothing at this proximity." The cavalier, chastised, ceases their motions, but retains the drawn blade and their position for the time being.

One of the nearest functionaries speaks from behind the queen, looking to the exits the Arkhive attendants are opening, "Your majesty, we must return you to the ship at once. We can withdraw ..." He, too, is cut off by a curt gesture from his ruler, deep seated daunting of his ruler overruling the immediate terror. He bows his head and steps back. None of the rest of the functionaries seem to have their queen's composure, shaken and fearful, but they follow her indication to regroup while the immediate situation is handled by their hosts.

[JBarca]

As people begin panicking, mocking, drawing weapons, and generally preparing (as much as is possible) for a massive fusion bomb, the Khylokians relax. Several of the warriors move together and exchange whispered words. One pair can be overheard, clearly enjoying the events. "That's eight you owe me now. Told you they have 'self preservation' instincts around here!"

Omnuud khosee-Huel quiets them down and scans the crowd. She first laughs at the Dhaoine. "'Value our...?' Ha! I knew coming here would be good for a laugh. Warriors of the dirt, you have nothing to fear! This is a fusion _drive_! We were told this is an exchange of technological achievement. We brought our best technology! Should I have brought a rock? A spear? The wheel? I did not mean to startle you with advancement beyond your understanding!"

As various experts and naysayers begin questioning the validity of the drive, Omnuud khosee-Huel shakes her head and slaps the outer shell of the device - clearly a bit harder than necessary, relishing the concern she assumes it will cause. "I promise, this thing is real and it is live. If you doubt me, feel free to poke around in it - assuming the queen is alright with her gift being prodded by foreigners. I can't imagine anything going wrong!"

She says this last with a wink toward the imperial representative.

"But don't let us distract you from your presentations! I'm just happy to be here. Now, I think there was mention of a meal?"

Omnuud khosee-Huel makes her way to the proffered food, a cloud of Khylokians following loosely behind her, leaving the bomb drive in the care of a handful of very distracted warriors. They do their best to startle any experts that near by stomping loudly on the floor suddenly, but make no move to stop anyone interacting with the device.

[Lumaeus]

I FEAR NO TIME BUBBLE

"... oh, here's one? I'm guessing you all have a tradition of joining into the core when you die? So it is your hope, or mission, or somesuch, to eventually partake in a bath in these cells? I wouldn't want to dip into one of these myself, but it's very much a holy quest type of deal. I'm glad I didn't yet taste the royal jelly, it's going to be a lot more special knowing how it's made."

The Queen smiles. "It is the eternal preservation of knowledge for the betterment of our globa--, sorry, interplanetary community. It is the ultimate legacy, and Librarians and the Queen all swear to give to it. Many of our people are no less generous, and we would gladly shepherd any through their dying days if they too wished to make such a donation. It is one final way to contribute to the world."


A Pleasant Conversation From Earlier
"Stuffy?" Nasir puts a hand on his chest and flings the other wide, an expression of mock horror rather spoiled by his twinkling eyes punctuating the gesture. "You do yourself a great disservice, my dear." He lets his hands settle down, and the mock horror gives way to a genuine smile. "But you have the right of it; I am simply old, and have my own ephemeral indulgences. It is the privilege of the elderly to mock the young, would you not agree?"


"It's straight lit to patronize them with their own youthful slang, no cap. Fam.*" replies the Queen, eyes twinkling. "I find sincerity the greatest torture--and a flattery of imitation."

*(Well, translate it across the fiction, but you feel me, you feel?)



Tanchitsa nods with interest - genuine, though exaggerated in order to be polite - all through the Queen's speech, although she is a little surprised when she hears of Ribnik. "Then I would like to meet this phytotheologian. In fact, since the Emperor has shown us His light, we do not consider Ribnik sacred, but I do not mind a theological discussion. Theological discussions seem to be the thing I practice for all the time at home, anyway." The young priestess covers the lower part of her veil, that is, her already-covered mouth, thinking that her last sentence was a faux-pas.

"Sacrality is a slippery thing," laughs the Queen. "I assure you, much of our endemic cultists of Coedd are rationalists who see a natural transcendence in the natural turned transcendent. I can vouch for our researcher as one more interested in a mundane theology of interwoven biospheres than of the truly divine. Yet if Ribnik holds magic and proves to be uniquely touched by--or to uniquely touch--Coedd, there may be a further key to unlocking the mystery of our planet's unusually sentient self."

[You gain a researcher, Olive Marie the two hundred fifteenth and seven tenths! We can collab, you can control her, I can. Heck, future biased Queen material if the Arkhive goes too hard on faith. Up to us!]



Your gathering of knowledge is commendable, and perhaps we can both benefits in trade of our best harvests."[/SIZE][/FONT]
Trade agreements amounting to nothing mechanical and without any attempt on the Arkhive's part to jockey for a great advantage are drawn up and offered.

BUT THAT THING? IT SCARES ME.


She walked in nonchalantly, looking down at her wristwatch to check the time, "So sorry I'm late, the biosecurity agents were very excited about the-" It's then that she looked up and saw the bomb and went very pale. "Oh, oh dear... That's a fusion detonator... What sort of banquet is this!? If this is a jest it is in poor taste!"

A Hive functionary hurries over. "A true honor to have you here, the Queen apologizes and wishes she could be present but is currently called on by a pressing concern, may I suggest we retire to, erm, out?" Their plastered smile and apologetic tone are fried with panic.


"But don't let us distract you from your presentations! I'm just happy to be here. Now, I think there was mention of a meal?"

The Queen, managing to white knuckle the air itself, gives a stiff jerk of a nod and recites some pleasantries as the Arkhive's Technologies Librarian swarm into the room.

[BUT I'M LEAVING THAT IN THE HANDS OF SOMEONE WHO HAS PERHAPS MORE OF A CLAIM TO THAT LIBRARIAN THAN I DO]

[MrHeadcrab]

Strictly adhering to the adage "better late than never," the Khylokians arrive well into the advent of the Conference in spectacular fashion. The sonic boom of the descending spacecraft shakes the snow and ice from cliffs for miles, and crater their deceleration driver leaves is a scar on the land that only the magnanimous agreeableness of the Arkhive can forgive. Most of the landing craft remains intact, though threats and thefts inquiries are made of other attendees' crews regarding acquiring a few necessary parts for a return journey.

The Khylokians crowd into the park, dragging behind them a large metal sled topped with a thick canvas sheet covering some oblong shape a dozen feet high. The dozen or so warriors pulling the sled are sure to shoo away any curious scholars or suspicious guards, and a number of clawed hands stray toward brutal short choppers and blades when they catch sight of the Dhaoine lannan, but no violence is offered and no weapons are drawn.

The warriors, though, are much less intimidating than they might have been in their homes, for the metal struts and pistons supporting their legs and the fatty buildup along the thorax and head give them a top-heavy, wobbly appearance. They quickly move to find some food in shifts, deflating to their natural sizes and sagging under the atmosphere and gravity as they do.

From behind the cart appears a younger Khylokian woman, introduced as Omnuud khosee-Huel. She grins a toothy grin and gestures to the canvas.

"Queen! As promised, the Bloodlord sends to you a gift! Our engines are strong, and we are happy to share them! All have access to study our gift, though I will leave it with the queen when we depart. Have care, though! Only a sanguimancer can survive their use for long journeys, as the forces applied to the body can be quite destructive! Behold, a Khylokian Fusion Drive!"

The canvas is yanked back, revealing the device. To any with a technical eye, this device is only a propulsion tool in the loosest sense.

Rather, the delegation from the Khylokians has brought with them a massive fusion bomb.
The Queen's initial smile at the Khylokian delegation, natural and warm, vitrifies in an instant as her eyes widen in a quiet, catastrophic panic. Her eyes glance first towards Arkhival staff, which is already moving to help indicate exit routes to interested delegations, then towards the Imperial representatives to see if they'll intercede. As for herself, she realizes her body is already moving as she walks towards the, uh, technological offering.

"The Arkhive is ever pleased to welcome such distinguished guests. And to be so richly favored with your findings is a double blessing. Please, forgive my avarice, but such is my, er, wonder at your offering that I can't help but assert my royal prerogative. I simply must insist that," here, her voice triples in volume, "Any willing engineers of the Arkhive immediately come and disar--disassemble this gift so we can safely...learn these advanced methods."

While her people move to act and messengers type away, the Queen turns her rictus towards the Khylokian leader, gesturing woodenly towards what banquet remains.

"Please, you must be hungry after your journey."
A bundle of Jy'mar crowd around on their hovering platform as it floats past the High Lord toward the fusion bomb. Several of them are quickly donning Protective Radiation gear the group approaches the bomb.

A crackle and pop sound from a contraption on the platform before the Jy'mar's voices are amplified as a series of Jy'mar in white coats push and shove each other to yell out questions. "Ho up there, may we approach the device for study? Is it active? Does it leak radiation? <My readings don't seem to have a spike in radiation what about...> What is its power ratings? Are we in danger of it going off? <of course we are you idiot> Do you have a remote for the device? Do you have extras we could disassemble? Are there more? <someone said that already - its my turn> What are the primary elements in the fusion?" A squeal from the amplifier and a muted pop with a wisp of black smoke silences the Jy'mar. The Scientists quickly scamble on the platform to put the amplifier back together while others fight over the radiation gear.
As people begin panicking, mocking, drawing weapons, and generally preparing (as much as is possible) for a massive fusion bomb, the Khylokians relax. Several of the warriors move together and exchange whispered words. One pair can be overheard, clearly enjoying the events. "That's eight you owe me now. Told you they have 'self preservation' instincts around here!"

Omnuud khosee-Huel quiets them down and scans the crowd. She first laughs at the Dhaoine. "'Value our...?' Ha! I knew coming here would be good for a laugh. Warriors of the dirt, you have nothing to fear! This is a fusion _drive_! We were told this is an exchange of technological achievement. We brought our best technology! Should I have brought a rock? A spear? The wheel? I did not mean to startle you with advancement beyond your understanding!"

As various experts and naysayers begin questioning the validity of the drive, Omnuud khosee-Huel shakes her head and slaps the outer shell of the device - clearly a bit harder than necessary, relishing the concern she assumes it will cause. "I promise, this thing is real and it is live. If you doubt me, feel free to poke around in it - assuming the queen is alright with her gift being prodded by foreigners. I can't imagine anything going wrong!"

She says this last with a wink toward the imperial representative.

"But don't let us distract you from your presentations! I'm just happy to be here. Now, I think there was mention of a meal?"

Omnuud khosee-Huel makes her way to the proffered food, a cloud of Khylokians following loosely behind her, leaving the bomb drive in the care of a handful of very distracted warriors. They do their best to startle any experts that near by stomping loudly on the floor suddenly, but make no move to stop anyone interacting with the device.
To the call of Her Arkhival Majesty, six small figures bound into the chaos on all fours. They dart through the crowd, twisting between leg and table like as they rush forwards. You'd be forgiven for mistaking them for weasel or woodchuck, but their movements are too particular. Too precise, too coordinated. The rodent in the front is looking backwards as it narrowly slides below a Moonman, another catapults off its cohort's back to hop onto a table. Their heads dart in different directions, each taking in a different piece of the scene occurring in this most holy place. Then they arrive at the Fusion DriveBomb.

One greets their long distant space-bound cousins, "I'm Szuc Gdbss Hinmyrilranema, either Head Professor of Coastaphornia University or Arkhive Librarian of Technology, currently undecided. What have you found out so far?" After listening to the Jy'mar diagnostic data, they frown thoughtfully. "Though I haven't see one in person, I've seen the concept pieces... though perhaps less rashly designed. Regardless, these devices follow a multi-core architecture. A chipset to maintain stability of the device and another control core to manage communication and activation. Disabling the control core will remove the capability for detonation, without jeopardizing the stability. After which we need to get this thing off-planet, messing with the stabilization core is more likely to turn this nation into ocean than anything else." With a wave a half-dozen paws and a breeze of psychic energy, a plate unscrews itself from the fusion drive, falling to the floor with a clang. Revealing a small hole into the interior of the drive. "If you can follow the Drive's communication and trace them back to an interior antenna or connected control core, this attachment will disable remote detonation." Synchronously, one of the Durats behind the speaker steps forward, offering the attachment.

As the Jy'mar move to save the day, Szuc calls out to the attendees. "Who of you can most quickly get this offworld? This device ought not be so near to Her Majesty or The Exaulted"

[Feathersnow]

...

As the Jy'mar move to save the day, Szuc calls out to the attendees. "Who of you can most quickly get this offworld? This device ought not be so near to Her Majesty or The Exaulted"

The Herald pipes up, voice amplified by an unseen power. "She who is called The Hammer can move it with the power of her mind onto a transport, if the Arkhive would designate which should carry this... gift... to a suitable site for... study." The telekinetic psionic prodigy was reasonably sure they were never in any true danger, but being seem as a hero was a rare opportunity.

[DKArthas]

When the Queen's rounds take her to the Fomorian delegation, she comports herself with solemn respect. "Sovereign Protector," she begins with a slight bow, "I speak for all the Arkhive when I tell you how gratified we are to host your illustrious delegation. The wisdom of The Radiant Republic elected you, and that wisdom is perhaps that which we most lack. Your society is something of an embarrasing hole in our research. We would warmly welcome any education you would share with us, the political scientists and philiosophers who can enlighten our pale understanding and your priests and theologians who could teach the interested your ways. If, indeed, you would be open to outside study. Either way, we pray you will count us ever as a friend. It is truly good to have you here.


Perhaps, taken aback by the sincerity of the address, Cathal returned the bow hastily and swiftly responded.“It speaks to the wisdom of your people, your majesty, that they would treasure knowledge and history so dearly. Too few understand the value of learning from the lessons of the past. Even fewer who acknowledge that wisdom can exist in those different from us. I do not doubt there will be many of our own scholars who would be keenly interested in debates of philosophy and politics as well as in learning of your own histories and culture. I see no reason to oppose such a fruitful course. Virtue is unattainable through ignorance after all.”

-------------
Some time later...

The old politician was moving toward the Eilif Dhaoine delegation, intent on learning more about the mysterious folks, when the fusion bomb was unveiled. Eyes widening in disbelief at the audacity and insanity at display, with realization quickly dawning in of the likelihood of impending doom. His following response might have been one of anger but the guards with him would be quicker to act; swiftly grabbing him and whisking him out of the hive, unto the ship, before any protest could even materialize.

Once the commotion has died down, only a few members of the Fomorian delegation would be left behind, intending to do what they can to salvage the situation but with much less authority to negotiate. Sirona Fiach, one of the professional diplomats present would take command of the situation.

[SerakHawk]

To the call of Her Arkhival Majesty, six small figures bound into the chaos on all fours. They dart through the crowd, twisting between leg and table like as they rush forwards. You'd be forgiven for mistaking them for weasel or woodchuck, but their movements are too particular. Too precise, too coordinated. The rodent in the front is looking backwards as it narrowly slides below a Moonman, another catapults off its cohort's back to hop onto a table. Their heads dart in different directions, each taking in a different piece of the scene occurring in this most holy place. Then they arrive at the Fusion DriveBomb.

One greets their long distant space-bound cousins, "I'm Szuc Gdbss Hinmyrilranema, either Head Professor of Coastaphornia University or Arkhive Librarian of Technology, currently undecided. What have you found out so far?" After listening to the Jy'mar diagnostic data, they frown thoughtfully. "Though I haven't see one in person, I've seen the concept pieces... though perhaps less rashly designed. Regardless, these devices follow a multi-core architecture. A chipset to maintain stability of the device and another control core to manage communication and activation. Disabling the control core will remove the capability for detonation, without jeopardizing the stability. After which we need to get this thing off-planet, messing with the stabilization core is more likely to turn this nation into ocean than anything else." With a wave a half-dozen paws and a breeze of psychic energy, a plate unscrews itself from the fusion drive, falling to the floor with a clang. Revealing a small hole into the interior of the drive. "If you can follow the Drive's communication and trace them back to an interior antenna or connected control core, this attachment will disable remote detonation." Synchronously, one of the Durats behind the speaker steps forward, offering the attachment.

With the arrival of their Sansarian cousins the gaggle of Jy'mar scientists slow their mad dash and scramble around the drive and instead start babbling various diagnostic data read from a multitude of wildly different devices to the Librarian of Technology at their request. The plate unscrewed sees pair of scientists quickly telescope a ladder to the hole before a mad scrum pile of Jy'mar in radiation suits tussle at the foot of it.

One of the Jy'mar shakes her head slowly and steps away from the rest to properly greet Szuc Gdbss Hinmyrilranema - her lightly colored fur peaks through the lead-lined flak jacket don'd on her torso while a splotch of black streaks down the right side of her head from her whiskers to behind her ear. Standing straight and tall she gives Szuc a nod of the head. Her voice carries much closer to that of a normal human without any obvious amplifying device. "Well met Cousin Szur Gdbss Hinmyrilranema, I am Team Lead Claudia Scipio - it is good to meet you in the fur rather than over InterPlaNet, and I do compliment you on yours. Apologies for my colleagues, we are quite an excitable bunch." Snapping her head back to the scrum she barks out at them. "Stop. Occam - go in, the rest - support."
Occam climbs out of the Jy'mar pile as the scamble to be the one to enter the drive is quickly ended by the Team Lead. Julie and Patches give Occam an envious twitch of the tail as they check his rad-suit for damage in the scrum, satisfied he is given the green light. Breathing deep Occam begins his climb up the ladder. Text across his vision scrolls as members of his team start texting status updates and and syncing them to the smart visor of his suit. A whisker twitch banishes them all to scroll down the left side of his vision.

Patches: I'm on vitals - O2 Stats Good, Heartrate elevated but in bounds
Julie: I've got suit monitor - Suit integrity is not compromised - Rad levels nominal
Oscar: I'm on navigation - Its a bit of a maze in there, I've grabbed four others and will relay instructions
Victor: I'll be liaison - we'll patch through updates to Team Lead
Joe: I've got Weather! Its Hot!
<Dammit Joe!><We're inside you idiot><Its just a joke guys calm down><You all are clogging up Occam's monitor!><So are you telling us that!><Stop Arguing!><Hey I didn't get a role!><It was my turn to be suit monitor we agreed!><You're in a suit dolt! You're on standby!>

Occam shakes his head with a smile and dismisses the messages before selecting randomly someone from the Team as chat moderator - instantly sending the feed into slow-mode and banning half the Team from chatting.

Occam: Thanks Ray, okay Nav - I'm at the opening. What can I expect.
Nav: Hold one.

Occam stares around the opening - a cluster of wires and conduits branch in almost every direction - almost as if half of it was put to obfuscate what actually was required... or the builder wasn't sure themselves. A wave of heat pulses through the suit and Occam hears a whirr of the cooling system starting up to compensate.

Suit: Temp Spike - Rads are fine. Looks like the device is cyclical on heat reject. Might have to time movements
Nav: We'll account - okay You need to head toward the upper hemisphere, angle is 170° east, 65° up.

Occam rolls his eyes, Nav could just have said up and to the right but, that was Oscar for you. Scrambling forward he picks a conduit that looks to be going that direction and follows it, scampering on the wires and trying not to touch any exposed metal staying to insulated surfaces. Another pulse of heat hits his suit and the cooling system speeds up.

Suit: Pulse timed, adjusting cooling to pre-cool for spikes. Rad levels increasing - still good
Nav: You need to head inward radially, you are too close to the shell - looks like there is a secondary containment shell we need to pass
Vitals: O2 sat mid, deep slow breaths Occam

Occam twists down the conduit and spots a branch heading core ward - leaping from one wire to another to avoid some plating his tail lights on an exposed plate and quickly recoils.

Suit: APPLYING SEALANTS SUIT BREACH
Vitals: Heart Rate Up, Distress in progress: Occam report
Occam: Dam my tail brushed... its fine
Suit: Breach maintained... can you get your tail into recovery position?
Vitals: Applying pain-killers, micro-dose - can't get you too hopped up.
Weather: Its hot, 60% chance of showers, 100% chance of ~
Mod: Weather banned from chat.

Wincing Occam tucks his tail up into the very uncomfortable 'recovery' position, keeping it tight to his body. No more hopping for Occam.
Pressing forward climbing inverted on wires he makes out the inner shell and pauses before passing through.

Occam: Nav I'm at the inner shell, update?
Nav: uh, hold one
Suit: Rad spike, Occam you're going to have a short window in there, this looks like rad shielding
Vitals: Breath Occam, take a paws please.
Mod: Should ban you for that pun
Vitals: Eat Dirt Ray

Inhaling deeply Occam surveys the inner core, light from the pulsing reactor core is worrying to the scientist, but the more open area gives him a good sight line, seeing what the Librarian described as the control core Occam exhaled.

Occam: I see the target, proceeding
Nav: HOLD! The surface is hot we are pathing you safe~
Occam: Belayed, I'll wing it. Stims? Cooling?
Vitals: Deploying stims
Suit: Cooling active

A rush of adrenaline fills the small scientist, feeling the build-up he frees his tail from confinement and coils up like a spring. Pouncing forward Occam leaps from insulated wire to insulated wire, leaping, hanging and running in segments in a mad dash to reach the control core. A pulse of heat almost staggers Occam, ignoring the messages he presses on making it to the core. A quick inspection reveals two 'miniature' screws holding the chip in place, which are handily loosened with his small toolset. Pulling the final connection loose he jiggles the core out of its seating enough to disconnect it.

Vitals: ... by all that is good you better be headed out - LARGE RAD dose, Suit Anti-rads
Suit: Already deployed, blood tox Vitals?
Vitals: Climbing, not at limit yet.
Nav: Occam MOVE. Recovery Teams Onroute to outer shell following pathing.

Jolted from his 'victory' stupor (probably the drugs) Occam bounds backwards out of the inner shell, only brushing his tail twice on the exit. Making it outside the inner shell just before another pulse from the device hits. Occam curls up and inspects his tail as the world fades around him.

Liaison: Mission success reported to Team Lead. Status on Occam?
Vitals: Blood tox is high, we can't painkill - he's going to pass out. Nav time on recovery?
Nav: Almost there, We'll get him don't worry.
Suit: Suit integrity held, two more breaches but had enough to contain... rad exposure was high... he going to keep his tail?
Vitals: ... I hope so.
Nav: Recovery report they have him, returning. Mission success Liaison
Liaison: Roger, reporting.
Weather: Its all sunny in Sansar tonight Folks!
ALL: SHUT UP JOE



As the Jy'mar move to save the day, Szuc calls out to the attendees. "Who of you can most quickly get this offworld? This device ought not be so near to Her Majesty or The Exaulted"


The Herald pipes up, voice amplified by an unseen power. "She who is called The Hammer can move it with the power of her mind onto a transport, if the Arkhive would designate which should carry this... gift... to a suitable site for... study." The telekinetic psionic prodigy was reasonably sure they were never in any true danger, but being seem as a hero was a rare opportunity.

Claudia turns to the Herald and projects her voice loud enough to be heard across the room to them.
"Ah perfect - One of the Illumined Utopian Escort ships has a cargo hold large for this device - when we have it 'under-control' your aid in transporting it to the ship would be appreciated. It would take a few thousand of us to move it properly. We'll park the ship in orbit and allow any to visit for study and only keep a skeleton crew to maintain position - these escort ships are made to be fairly disposable as it is."

Quieting her voice she turns back to Szuc and rests her arm lightly on his larger ones. "Perhaps we could talk more later? It is nice to meet cousins from afar, it reminds us that, while the Jy'mar are still smaller, there are others like us in the System with shared ancestry."

A few tense minutes pass before Claudia tilts her head and subvocalizes into her headset. After an exchange she smiles. "It is done, the device has been rendered safe for extraction - The Hammer if you would please? The Gilded Lily is prepared to receive cargo.... At the Arkhive's Approval of course -"

Claudia turns to the Queen of the Arkhive.

[Lumaeus]

Queen Constance of Comment the first, her Arkhival Majesty, indulges herself in a single sharp breath in and out before clapping her hands together and beginning. "Right! I am more than happy to relinquish this, ah, generous demonstration of Khylokian science to the Utopian contingent. We are all grateful for your promised custodianship, and I hope we will be able to discuss longer term plans for the device--plans we will be happy to support in every way we can."

She turns outward to those left, smiling past the kerfluffle and confusion. "We all know to expect some...intercultural growing pains at such conferences, which in the future we will work to mitigate. This has, however, served as a wonderful demonstration of not merely the potential for collaboration between all of our peoples, but the sheer capacity of it. If we can spontaneously comport ourselves so well together, an intentioned, mutual cooperation can only improve our work yet further.

"Our thanks to the graceful intercession of the Emperor's High Lord and his contingent, the alacritous response of the Jy'mar, and the sharp discernment of they who may be the good Professor--and, if not, our Technology Librarian.

"On which subject, time now allowing, the Arkhive's warmest greetings to representatives of Burtzland, our erstwhile research partners; the good representatives of the Kingdom of High Ishtanos, who have come all this way to find no jest but instead our embarrassment at failing to immediately greet them with the honor they merit; and the Eucrus Alliance, whose good humor we cherish and whose apologies are unwarranted as their very presence is a great gift."

She sends word through the Arkhive so that everyone can be apprised of the defusion and transport of the bomb. Maybe some might return.

If not...wonder of wonders, they'd already made a lot of progress this conference.

[Silent_Interim]

"It's straight lit to patronize them with their own youthful slang, no cap. Fam.*" replies the Queen, eyes twinkling. "I find sincerity the greatest torture--and a flattery of imitation."

*(Well, translate it across the fiction, but you feel me, you feel?)


"Based, yo, as my mother used to say." Nasir holds a solemn face, but it almost immediately splits into a grin. "Now if you'll excuse me, I find myself a mite peckish. I hope we will be able to continue inflicting psychic damage upon the youths some time, and perhaps discuss some other matters as well."

Later

With the apparent threat of the bomb passed, Nasir relaxes almost imperceptibly. He nods to his grandchildren, who immediately slink away, slouches re-deployed.

He approaches the Khylokian delegation at the food tables, unruffled, and plucks out a small something from among the remaining dishes as he approaches Omnuud khosee-Huel.

"My greetings to you, Omnuud khosee-Huel. I am High Lord Nasir. I was wondering if you might indulge an old man some curiosity. My colleague the High Lady Anathe is undoubtedly better informed, stationed as she is in your native Mekhala, but I have read only a little of your people. Is it true that you have no self-preservation? It seems an odd trait, the likes of which I have hardly encountered at the scale of a whole people before."

[Stygian]

With the arrival of their Sansarian cousins the gaggle of Jy'mar scientists slow their mad dash and scramble around the drive and instead start babbling various diagnostic data read from a multitude of wildly different devices to the Librarian of Technology at their request. The plate unscrewed sees pair of scientists quickly telescope a ladder to the hole before a mad scrum pile of Jy'mar in radiation suits tussle at the foot of it.

One of the Jy'mar shakes her head slowly and steps away from the rest to properly greet Szuc Gdbss Hinmyrilranema - her lightly colored fur peaks through the lead-lined flak jacket don'd on her torso while a splotch of black streaks down the right side of her head from her whiskers to behind her ear. Standing straight and tall she gives Szuc a nod of the head. Her voice carries much closer to that of a normal human without any obvious amplifying device. "Well met Cousin Szur Gdbss Hinmyrilranema, I am Team Lead Claudia Scipio - it is good to meet you in the fur rather than over InterPlaNet, and I do compliment you on yours. Apologies for my colleagues, we are quite an excitable bunch." Snapping her head back to the scrum she barks out at them. "Stop. Occam - go in, the rest - support."
Occam climbs out of the Jy'mar pile as the scamble to be the one to enter the drive is quickly ended by the Team Lead. Julie and Patches give Occam an envious twitch of the tail as they check his rad-suit for damage in the scrum, satisfied he is given the green light. Breathing deep Occam begins his climb up the ladder. Text across his vision scrolls as members of his team start texting status updates and and syncing them to the smart visor of his suit. A whisker twitch banishes them all to scroll down the left side of his vision.

Patches: I'm on vitals - O2 Stats Good, Heartrate elevated but in bounds
Julie: I've got suit monitor - Suit integrity is not compromised - Rad levels nominal
Oscar: I'm on navigation - Its a bit of a maze in there, I've grabbed four others and will relay instructions
Victor: I'll be liaison - we'll patch through updates to Team Lead
Joe: I've got Weather! Its Hot!
<Dammit Joe!><We're inside you idiot><Its just a joke guys calm down><You all are clogging up Occam's monitor!><So are you telling us that!><Stop Arguing!><Hey I didn't get a role!><It was my turn to be suit monitor we agreed!><You're in a suit dolt! You're on standby!>

Occam shakes his head with a smile and dismisses the messages before selecting randomly someone from the Team as chat moderator - instantly sending the feed into slow-mode and banning half the Team from chatting.

Occam: Thanks Ray, okay Nav - I'm at the opening. What can I expect.
Nav: Hold one.

Occam stares around the opening - a cluster of wires and conduits branch in almost every direction - almost as if half of it was put to obfuscate what actually was required... or the builder wasn't sure themselves. A wave of heat pulses through the suit and Occam hears a whirr of the cooling system starting up to compensate.

Suit: Temp Spike - Rads are fine. Looks like the device is cyclical on heat reject. Might have to time movements
Nav: We'll account - okay You need to head toward the upper hemisphere, angle is 170° east, 65° up.

Occam rolls his eyes, Nav could just have said up and to the right but, that was Oscar for you. Scrambling forward he picks a conduit that looks to be going that direction and follows it, scampering on the wires and trying not to touch any exposed metal staying to insulated surfaces. Another pulse of heat hits his suit and the cooling system speeds up.

Suit: Pulse timed, adjusting cooling to pre-cool for spikes. Rad levels increasing - still good
Nav: You need to head inward radially, you are too close to the shell - looks like there is a secondary containment shell we need to pass
Vitals: O2 sat mid, deep slow breaths Occam

Occam twists down the conduit and spots a branch heading core ward - leaping from one wire to another to avoid some plating his tail lights on an exposed plate and quickly recoils.

Suit: APPLYING SEALANTS SUIT BREACH
Vitals: Heart Rate Up, Distress in progress: Occam report
Occam: Dam my tail brushed... its fine
Suit: Breach maintained... can you get your tail into recovery position?
Vitals: Applying pain-killers, micro-dose - can't get you too hopped up.
Weather: Its hot, 60% chance of showers, 100% chance of ~
Mod: Weather banned from chat.

Wincing Occam tucks his tail up into the very uncomfortable 'recovery' position, keeping it tight to his body. No more hopping for Occam.
Pressing forward climbing inverted on wires he makes out the inner shell and pauses before passing through.

Occam: Nav I'm at the inner shell, update?
Nav: uh, hold one
Suit: Rad spike, Occam you're going to have a short window in there, this looks like rad shielding
Vitals: Breath Occam, take a paws please.
Mod: Should ban you for that pun
Vitals: Eat Dirt Ray

Inhaling deeply Occam surveys the inner core, light from the pulsing reactor core is worrying to the scientist, but the more open area gives him a good sight line, seeing what the Librarian described as the control core Occam exhaled.

Occam: I see the target, proceeding
Nav: HOLD! The surface is hot we are pathing you safe~
Occam: Belayed, I'll wing it. Stims? Cooling?
Vitals: Deploying stims
Suit: Cooling active

A rush of adrenaline fills the small scientist, feeling the build-up he frees his tail from confinement and coils up like a spring. Pouncing forward Occam leaps from insulated wire to insulated wire, leaping, hanging and running in segments in a mad dash to reach the control core. A pulse of heat almost staggers Occam, ignoring the messages he presses on making it to the core. A quick inspection reveals two 'miniature' screws holding the chip in place, which are handily loosened with his small toolset. Pulling the final connection loose he jiggles the core out of its seating enough to disconnect it.

Vitals: ... by all that is good you better be headed out - LARGE RAD dose, Suit Anti-rads
Suit: Already deployed, blood tox Vitals?
Vitals: Climbing, not at limit yet.
Nav: Occam MOVE. Recovery Teams Onroute to outer shell following pathing.

Jolted from his 'victory' stupor (probably the drugs) Occam bounds backwards out of the inner shell, only brushing his tail twice on the exit. Making it outside the inner shell just before another pulse from the device hits. Occam curls up and inspects his tail as the world fades around him.

Liaison: Mission success reported to Team Lead. Status on Occam?
Vitals: Blood tox is high, we can't painkill - he's going to pass out. Nav time on recovery?
Nav: Almost there, We'll get him don't worry.
Suit: Suit integrity held, two more breaches but had enough to contain... rad exposure was high... he going to keep his tail?
Vitals: ... I hope so.
Nav: Recovery report they have him, returning. Mission success Liaison
Liaison: Roger, reporting.
Weather: Its all sunny in Sansar tonight Folks!
ALL: SHUT UP JOE






Claudia turns to the Herald and projects her voice loud enough to be heard across the room to them.
"Ah perfect - One of the Illumined Utopian Escort ships has a cargo hold large for this device - when we have it 'under-control' your aid in transporting it to the ship would be appreciated. It would take a few thousand of us to move it properly. We'll park the ship in orbit and allow any to visit for study and only keep a skeleton crew to maintain position - these escort ships are made to be fairly disposable as it is."

Quieting her voice she turns back to Szuc and rests her arm lightly on his larger ones. "Perhaps we could talk more later? It is nice to meet cousins from afar, it reminds us that, while the Jy'mar are still smaller, there are others like us in the System with shared ancestry."

A few tense minutes pass before Claudia tilts her head and subvocalizes into her headset. After an exchange she smiles. "It is done, the device has been rendered safe for extraction - The Hammer if you would please? The Gilded Lily is prepared to receive cargo.... At the Arkhive's Approval of course -"

Claudia turns to the Queen of the Arkhive.

The kanmarran engineers don’t make any particular motion to stop the Jy’har from scurrying into the drive. Instead, the “smallest” of the three delegates shuffled behind the scrum of giant rodents and hunkers down, trying to get a look at the readings as they are called out between the team of scientists.

Sheepishly, after several moments, he paused and regarded Claudia Scipio. He skittered closer, head bowed, knees bent--just above eye level with the Team Lead. ”It is rare that one gets to observe the effects of exposure to intense radiation in real-time. Might I request a copy of your observations? Barring anything the Jy’mar consider to be patented, proprietary, or sensitive. We can certainly assist in repairing any genetic mutation that occurs—likely without the use of a razor on your poor technician.”


As people begin panicking, mocking, drawing weapons, and generally preparing (as much as is possible) for a massive fusion bomb, the Khylokians relax. Several of the warriors move together and exchange whispered words. One pair can be overheard, clearly enjoying the events. "That's eight you owe me now. Told you they have 'self preservation' instincts around here!"

Omnuud khosee-Huel quiets them down and scans the crowd. She first laughs at the Dhaoine. "'Value our...?' Ha! I knew coming here would be good for a laugh. Warriors of the dirt, you have nothing to fear! This is a fusion _drive_! We were told this is an exchange of technological achievement. We brought our best technology! Should I have brought a rock? A spear? The wheel? I did not mean to startle you with advancement beyond your understanding!"

As various experts and naysayers begin questioning the validity of the drive, Omnuud khosee-Huel shakes her head and slaps the outer shell of the device - clearly a bit harder than necessary, relishing the concern she assumes it will cause. "I promise, this thing is real and it is live. If you doubt me, feel free to poke around in it - assuming the queen is alright with her gift being prodded by foreigners. I can't imagine anything going wrong!"

She says this last with a wink toward the imperial representative.

"But don't let us distract you from your presentations! I'm just happy to be here. Now, I think there was mention of a meal?"

Omnuud khosee-Huel makes her way to the proffered food, a cloud of Khylokians following loosely behind her, leaving the bomb drive in the care of a handful of very distracted warriors. They do their best to startle any experts that near by stomping loudly on the floor suddenly, but make no move to stop anyone interacting with the device.

To Omnuud khosee-Huel, the Navarch turns and folds her arms. A couple of her legs tap against the floor in agitation as she considers her words. ”It is by the grace of this being a Library that you do not find out just how full of self-preservation I am.”

“While I find humor in your arrogance, the ArkHive appears to be smaller than most viable aerostats. To destroy such a habitat on the whim of a joke would invite wholesale eradication in retribution where I am from. In other words… know your audience.” She seems to not invite any further discourse on the morality of such an action, merely the consequences of it.


The Herald pipes up, voice amplified by an unseen power. "She who is called The Hammer can move it with the power of her mind onto a transport, if the Arkhive would designate which should carry this... gift... to a suitable site for... study." The telekinetic psionic prodigy was reasonably sure they were never in any true danger, but being seem as a hero was a rare opportunity.

”To the rest of our colleagues across the Empire, we greet you and humbly offer our advances in the mastery of life itself. We welcome this exchange of knowledge. To that point—while I respect the capabilities of your Hammer..” She paused briefly to look at the Herald. ”Perhaps we should leave the transport of a highly volatile device to manual labor. One headache or sneeze, and this exchange may end abruptly if the core is ruptured. With no disrespect, merely a desire not to be atomized.”

[Volthawk]

<Getting into the conquest talk, pre-bomb I suppose>

Scorcha had been aware of the risk of being overheard, of course, but she'd dismissed it - after all, if someone from another country in the Elect overheard the Dhaoine's plans, that just saved her the effort of having to explain herself again. When it came to this matter, if nothing else, she was being direct and forthright. The fact that it was one of the Kanites that was doing the eavesdropping made life particularly easier, given the proximity between their two countries. With that in mind, she takes Sladkor's lack of pleasantries just fine, smiling and nodding as he interjects himself into the conversation.

"The Reserve is what it is, Ambassador, and land is land. Those that can handle it in the Reserve will remain, and those looking for a change can live elsewhere. Either way, the extra territory will allow both groups to reach greater prosperity, and so it goes." She pauses, listening to the words he has about Greater Alfheim, noting his words abotu mercenary work and the former Kanite state with interest. "Ah yes, that reminds me. While we're here, telling each other what our respective states want...it seems like it's your turn, Ambassador. Now that the Kanites have been given this second lease on life through the Empire, what are your people's intentions now, when it comes to military and political affairs that you aren't being paid to do? Both in Zabava and abroad, I suppose."


<wine talk>

Scorcha grins and gestures in the direction of the sealga she gave the wine to. "You can see there that my people share my feelings about your products, and there lies a way that we can work together. You see, my people, the Dhaoine...life on the Reserve is good, yes, but it also tough at times. The same is true anywhere else, of course, but in the Reserve, when you take that and combine our new awareness of the wider world...they grow hungry for, well, more. And this wine of yours...that is more. I believe that, should you allow it, your vineyards will find plenty of custom among the Dhaoine. And once we have those economic ties, well..." She gives a small shrug. "I expect that we shall grow closer in other ways as well."


<Bomb finale>

The heckling sealga takes the Khylokians' comments in stride, laughing it off and responding in kind. "If your idea of technological advancement is just making a bigger bomb, then how the hell are we lacking in understanding? Where's the skill, the finesse, the style in just dropping a thing like that in front of someone? Bah, I bet you idiots couldn't last five seconds somewhere where you have to actually be smart to survive." Still, seeing that the show is coming to a close, the bomb/drive is being dealt with, and the Khylokians are buggering off to eat, the sealga returns his focus to his hangers on, finishing off the rest of the Caipe Ushere and cracking a few jokes with them at the Khylokians' expense.

[Feathersnow]

”To the rest of our colleagues across the Empire, we greet you and humbly offer our advances in the mastery of life itself. We welcome this exchange of knowledge. To that point—while I respect the capabilities of your Hammer..” She paused briefly to look at the Herald. ”Perhaps we should leave the transport of a highly volatile device to manual labor. One headache or sneeze, and this exchange may end abruptly if the core is ruptured. With no disrespect, merely a desire not to be atomized.”

The Hammer bit back a retort about how, having no lungs, she didn't sneeze when she realized that, firstly, that said nothing about headaches, and, second, she would look like an fool if she presses the issue.

[moossabi]

The un-bombening
As the High Lord moves forward to deal with the crisis, Hekla makes an abrupt turn away with her wheelchair to regroup with her younger brother. The situation seemed under control, but if things took a turn for the worse they could make it to the jet and be in the air within a couple minutes. If there wasn't some kind of countdown... it wouldn't make much of a difference anyways. Gripping the chair arm tightly, she scans around to see where Hinrik could have gone...

The Great Arkhival Dragonbreak

Ambassador Sladkor happens to hear an interesting conversation going on. Well, "happens to": he walked around and eavesdropped on numerous conversations until he heard this one, minimising his presence by appearing like an old man in fine but drab beige and brown clothing (very muted against the orange skin of a Kanite) with nothing important to say.

He doesn't bother with pleasantries, having said and heard enough of them here to last him the whole life, just giving Scorcha and Hinrik a smile as if he were a good friend joining the conversation.
"Indeed, that place is the southern tip of Zabava. I was there once and did not find it a particularly desirable place to live - the locals write too few books and paint too few pictures and this old man fancies himself a connoisseur of art, haha. But I suppose if you're willing to make such a colossal effort to move there, then all those rumors about the Reserve's dangers must have been true."

Scorcha had been aware of the risk of being overheard, of course, but she'd dismissed it - after all, if someone from another country in the Elect overheard the Dhaoine's plans, that just saved her the effort of having to explain herself again. When it came to this matter, if nothing else, she was being direct and forthright. The fact that it was one of the Kanites that was doing the eavesdropping made life particularly easier, given the proximity between their two countries. With that in mind, she takes Sladkor's lack of pleasantries just fine, smiling and nodding as he interjects himself into the conversation.

"The Reserve is what it is, Ambassador, and land is land. Those that can handle it in the Reserve will remain, and those looking for a change can live elsewhere. Either way, the extra territory will allow both groups to reach greater prosperity, and so it goes." She pauses, listening to the words he has about Greater Alfheim, noting his words abotu mercenary work and the former Kanite state with interest. "Ah yes, that reminds me. While we're here, telling each other what our respective states want...it seems like it's your turn, Ambassador. Now that the Kanites have been given this second lease on life through the Empire, what are your people's intentions now, when it comes to military and political affairs that you aren't being paid to do? Both in Zabava and abroad, I suppose."

As the Kanite ambassador steps into the conversational vacuum left by the fusion reactor's interruption, Hinrik can only offer a bewildered stare before shaking his head and pushing his way past the new duo with a curt "Pardon me..." He similarly attempts to spot his sibling amidst the mostly-frenzied crowd while skirting his way around the room to the main entrance; as luck would have it, the two bump into each other some distance to the rear and side of the confrontation between the foreign madmen and the officials. As Hekla moves to speak, the brother interjects, usually-positive expression marred by a mix of bewilderment and contempt. "There's no time, we must make haste-"

Reaching out from her lower vantage point, Hekla's surprisingly strong grip halts Hinrik in his tracks as the two turn to face the now-resolving crisis. Eyes narrowed, the elder sister hisses an aside to her brother. "That High Lord and his Court have much to answer for..."

Hinrik snorts, launching into a muted tirade. "Their kind is all of the same cloth. The Queen was a fool to allow them entry, we should leave at once-"

"No." Hekla leverages her grip to wrench Hinrik back to the other side of her chair, the younger man nearly stumbling and gritting his teeth. Gaze intense, she lowers her tone as her chair wheels towards him. "Coming here was your idea. You knew the risks-"

"-I knew the risks of engaging with our fellow Sansarites, these vermin were not part of the picture-"

"-And now you can use them as a threat to ally against! Think, brother!" In spite of her aggressive tone, her face remains one of mild annoyance, exercising complete authority over the man currently standing over her, awkwardly averting his gaze. "Get back there and get to work."

Hinrik's mouth lies agape for but a second, after which he sighs and sets back into the fray without another word. Each step reconstructs another portion of his upbeat, friendly demeanor, and by the time anyone can actually make out his expression he appears right as rain. Hekla, meanwhile, sighs and straightens out the blanket in her lap before departing to seek a less familiar conversation.

Now back to your Regularly Scheduled Program

Sladkor pauses and addresses the elf. "This Greater Alfheim thing- I can say the White Pawns and the other states of Kan have no direct objections to this scheme, and I have to note that for our mercenaries, it would be a great honor to serve in your conquests." He furrows his brow, choosing his words carefully. "Surely you know the history of your own land well, Prince, being older than most of us here. But have you ever read a modern history of Kan? Two centuries ago, some hailed the coming of a Kanite state stretching in all directions towards the seashore. Now, most Kanites hesistate to even mention these times. There are a lot of interesting stories like that." He waves his hand in a noncommittal gesture to lighten his point.

On cue, the representative of the Pawns begins to address Hinrik as he returns. The elf listens politely, smiling and nodding throughout the pitch. "Though it would please me greatly to work alongside your people in this endeavor, I ultimately hold little authority over our military. I shall present the idea to the Chancellor upon my return." As the conversation turns to history, Sladkor receives a brief look of confusion followed by a dawning understanding. "Ah, apologies, there must have been a misinterpretation. 'Alfheim' has never before been a coherent historical entity, simply a denotive term for lands inhabited by various elven cultures and states. For us, there is nothing to restore; we are at the apex of our power and poised to surpass it a hundred times over." He takes a few breaths, regathering his focus after the pan-nationalist spiel. "Of course, diverse histories are no reason for our aspirations to go unshared. I wish you great luck in the reconquest of your former realm!"

[Frostwander]

Following the easing of tensions and the apparent disarming of any immediate threat, the Queen Chalise gives a small applause following Queen Constance's assurance speech. She smiles with a hint of genuine mirth to those nearby. "Well. That was brisk, wasn't it?" She excuses herself for a few minutes to speak to her assembled functionaries. Several of them are still quite visibly shaken, and are sent back to their ship to recover. For those who intuit the subtext, it is doubtful they will be assigned to work with the Usheret monarch again. For the remainder, it was time to get back to the work of establishing social connections and negotiating preliminary deals.

One such intended connection found the queen in black approaching the remaining representative of Caipe Ushere's southern neighbors, Sirona Fiach. "We had hoped to bring our salutations directly to Sovereign Protector Oirbsiu. We request that you convey them to him, along with our continued wishes for peaceful interactions and economic cooperation. In particular, we have a few details regarding some desires to purchase more of your famed metal exports, that we can easily discuss at your convenience.

"At present, we are also interested in your current status, and curious regarding your opinions of this event in particular. Both generally, as well as the more stimulating circumstances."

Separately...

Scorcha grins and gestures in the direction of the sealga she gave the wine to. "You can see there that my people share my feelings about your products, and there lies a way that we can work together. You see, my people, the Dhaoine...life on the Reserve is good, yes, but it also tough at times. The same is true anywhere else, of course, but in the Reserve, when you take that and combine our new awareness of the wider world...they grow hungry for, well, more. And this wine of yours...that is more. I believe that, should you allow it, your vineyards will find plenty of custom among the Dhaoine. And once we have those economic ties, well..." She gives a small shrug. "I expect that we shall grow closer in other ways as well."

"We would be glad to discuss setting up exports and exchanges with the Dhaoine. Caipe Ushere has some measure of fame in its natural and crafted sights and culture, and many travel to visit for relaxation, education, and entertainment as well. We would be proud to be included in your people's exploration of the wider world." She waves forward one of the functionaries with a digitablet. "Petris here can provide you some details, if you are interested in organizing some international transit lines between our ports."

[bc56]

Late to the Party

The spaceship is a sturdy vessel of durable construction, but even so it is not immune to malfunction.
After a delay due to asteroid collision, the blocky, angular ship arrives some time late to the start of the banquet.

Ground control is, of course, contacted.
"A bomb!? If I'd known it was that sort of party, I'd have brought some of my own!" The response is accompanied by a deep-throated guffaw. The dwarven representative is hardly frightened by the prospect of explosions. In fact, he may well be the sort more pleased to be causing them.

With that out of the way, the ship lands and a small group of dwarves emerges. Clearly unused to the high gravity of Sansar (or maybe already somewhat drunk), they stumble into the conference. Their leader, wrinkled and white-bearded, goggles upon his forehead, takes furious notes in a messy scrawl upon his datapad.
"Quite a damp environment here. Should rustproof gear for future expeditions. Train specialists in maneuvering in gravity wells, yes." he mutters to himself, observing the area with interest.
The other dwarves follow behind, lightly armed and armored, looking more like miners than soldiers. They're scarred, and their carbide-edged pickaxes, although hanging at hips and slung across backs, are clearly more than capable of busting skulls as well as rocks.

[JBarca]

As they eat, the last of the extra mass seems to melt off the Khylokians as they allow their sanguimancy to fade. Where possible, they sit uncomfortably to take the stress off their joints - gravity was a mistake.



With the apparent threat of the bomb passed, Nasir relaxes almost imperceptibly. He nods to his grandchildren, who immediately slink away, slouches re-deployed.

He approaches the Khylokian delegation at the food tables, unruffled, and plucks out a small something from among the remaining dishes as he approaches Omnuud khosee-Huel.

"My greetings to you, Omnuud khosee-Huel. I am High Lord Nasir. I was wondering if you might indulge an old man some curiosity. My colleague the High Lady Anathe is undoubtedly better informed, stationed as she is in your native Mekhala, but I have read only a little of your people. Is it true that you have no self-preservation? It seems an odd trait, the likes of which I have hardly encountered at the scale of a whole people before."

The Khylokian smiles. "That's right. We care not a lick about our own lives. Utterly fearless, completely loyal to the Reign of Blood, and dedicated to our tribes. My late father killed a Dwarf by dragging her into the void for the shrikes! They both died near instantly, and he did it with a grin on his face. The fact that you dirt-bounds have so much concern for your own safety is the strange thing! How can you exist as a society if your people look out for themselves first?"




To Omnuud khosee-Huel, the Navarch turns and folds her arms. A couple of her legs tap against the floor in agitation as she considers her words. ”It is by the grace of this being a Library that you do not find out just how full of self-preservation I am.”

“While I find humor in your arrogance, the ArkHive appears to be smaller than most viable aerostats. To destroy such a habitat on the whim of a joke would invite wholesale eradication in retribution where I am from. In other words… know your audience.” She seems to not invite any further discourse on the morality of such an action, merely the consequences of it.


Omnuud khosee-Huel cannot help but laugh. "Retribution? Ha! What, you plan to fly from your gas planet all the way to the edge of the empire, to our home, and destroy us there, in the void? I don't think so! The Reign would survive it, like it always does. We say, 'From the void, death.' Nothing from a dirtball or gascloud threatens us. You said it yourself. Your warriors would be too concerned with their own lives. Khylokians will die by the hundred to protect their home, and be happy for it!"

She laughs again, shaking her head. "'Wholesale eradication...' That's good. You planetsiders are funny, I'll give you that."




The heckling sealga takes the Khylokians' comments in stride, laughing it off and responding in kind. "If your idea of technological advancement is just making a bigger bomb, then how the hell are we lacking in understanding? Where's the skill, the finesse, the style in just dropping a thing like that in front of someone? Bah, I bet you idiots couldn't last five seconds somewhere where you have to actually be smart to survive." Still, seeing that the show is coming to a close, the bomb/drive is being dealt with, and the Khylokians are buggering off to eat, the sealga returns his focus to his hangers on, finishing off the rest of the Caipe Ushere and cracking a few jokes with them at the Khylokians' expense.

Omnuud khosee-Huel grins, enjoying herself. "I notice you aren't carrying any bombs, mudskipper. If you don't know how they work, you can just say so. And I see your 'finesse' and raise you 'surviving in the void itself with nothing but a small rock to cling to.'"

A couple of rude gestures from the Omnuud and her warriors later, the sealga is mostly forgotten in favor of watching the Queen of the Arkhive with an eye that is perhaps a bit too keenly interested and a sly smile a bit too self-satisfied as she promises unity and collaboration in the face of outside threats.

[Lumaeus]

”To the rest of our colleagues across the Empire, we greet you and humbly offer our advances in the mastery of life itself. We welcome this exchange of knowledge. To that point—while I respect the capabilities of your Hammer..” She paused briefly to look at the Herald. ”Perhaps we should leave the transport of a highly volatile device to manual labor. One headache or sneeze, and this exchange may end abruptly if the core is ruptured. With no disrespect, merely a desire not to be atomized.”

The Hammer bit back a retort about how, having no lungs, she didn't sneeze when she realized that, firstly, that said nothing about headaches, and, second, she would look like an fool if she presses the issue.

The Queen has returned to a diplomat's dance, weaving from party to party to get things back on track. On her way towards the arriving dwarves, she near pirouettes as she addresses the enthusiastic offworlders.

"I am no doubt certain that all here are cognizant of the magnaminity shown by all parties in the grace they have shown one another in this difficult time. You might well be surprised by the famed control of the Glix--but we doubt your care no more than we do theirs. That you vie for this burden does both of your people credit, and this honor earned will be recalled by all present."


Late to the Party

The spaceship is a sturdy vessel of durable construction, but even so it is not immune to malfunction.
After a delay due to asteroid collision, the blocky, angular ship arrives some time late to the start of the banquet.

Ground control is, of course, contacted.
"A bomb!? If I'd known it was that sort of party, I'd have brought some of my own!" The response is accompanied by a deep-throated guffaw. The dwarven representative is hardly frightened by the prospect of explosions. In fact, he may well be the sort more pleased to be causing them.

With that out of the way, the ship lands and a small group of dwarves emerges. Clearly unused to the high gravity of Sansar (or maybe already somewhat drunk), they stumble into the conference. Their leader, wrinkled and white-bearded, goggles upon his forehead, takes furious notes in a messy scrawl upon his datapad.
"Quite a damp environment here. Should rustproof gear for future expeditions. Train specialists in maneuvering in gravity wells, yes." he mutters to himself, observing the area with interest.
The other dwarves follow behind, lightly armed and armored, looking more like miners than soldiers. They're scarred, and their carbide-edged pickaxes, although hanging at hips and slung across backs, are clearly more than capable of busting skulls as well as rocks.

"From the furthest reaches of the Empire--or, perhaps to our furthest reaches--your delegation is a truly wonderful sight. We hope the excitement at hand doesn't weight your expectations too heavily towards excitement. This is, after all, an Arkhive, and we greet you with and can offer only peace. Can I see to it that anything be brought for you? If it is not too forward, I overheard some of your concerns about moisture--we have methods of applying hydrophobic wax that work well for our purposes. We'd be happy to share with you both our research and supplies." The Queen smiles. "And much other research besides. The, erm, engine currently being removed to a more remote research station is the most immediately impressive, but there are innovations from all parts of the Empire on hand.


The Khylokian smiles. "That's right. We care not a lick about our own lives. Utterly fearless, completely loyal to the Reign of Blood, and dedicated to our tribes. My late father killed a Dwarf by dragging her into the void for the shrikes! They both died near instantly, and he did it with a grin on his face. The fact that you dirt-bounds have so much concern for your own safety is the strange thing! How can you exist as a society if your people look out for themselves first?"
...
A couple of rude gestures from the Omnuud and her warriors later, the sealga is mostly forgotten in favor of watching the Queen of the Arkhive with an eye that is perhaps a bit too keenly interested as she promises unity and collaboration in the face of outside threats.

Constance whirls onto the scene. "I trust that both our Imperial guests and our Mekhalan dignitaries both speak from a place of honest curiosity and intercultural wonder. We are all friends here, I do so hope." She gives an apologetic look to the High Lord as she leans towards the Khylokians, not lowering her voice but still apologizing for initiating a private conversation in front of him. "Your people have a wisdom even mine struggle to find, even as we watch it fly around us every day. Self-sacrifice for one's own civilization is the work of a higher class of creature, like the very bees who teach us our philosophies and order our society. When the time comes, which we fear it inevitably must, that the outside threats come, we hope sincerely to be able to count the Khylokians as part of our number, that we might learn from you and our peoples survive as yours always do."

[Silent_Interim]

The Khylokian smiles. "That's right. We care not a lick about our own lives. Utterly fearless, completely loyal to the Reign of Blood, and dedicated to our tribes. My late father killed a Dwarf by dragging her into the void for the shrikes! They both died near instantly, and he did it with a grin on his face. The fact that you dirt-bounds have so much concern for your own safety is the strange thing! How can you exist as a society if your people look out for themselves first?"



Constance whirls onto the scene. "I trust that both our Imperial guests and our Mekhalan dignitaries both speak from a place of honest curiosity and intercultural wonder. We are all friends here, I do so hope." She gives an apologetic look to the High Lord as she leans towards the Khylokians, not lowering her voice but still apologizing for initiating a private conversation in front of him. "Your people have a wisdom even mine struggle to find, even as we watch it fly around us every day. Self-sacrifice for one's own civilization is the work of a higher class of creature, like the very bees who teach us our philosophies and order our society. When the time comes, which we fear it inevitably must, that the outside threats come, we hope sincerely to be able to count the Khylokians as part of our number, that we might learn from you and our peoples survive as yours always do."

The High Lord raises his hands in a placating gesture. "I meant no offense, and received none. And to answer your question, Omnuud, we do not look out for ourselves first. If my Emperor asked of me my death, I would walk to it with a smile on my lips and a song in my heart. But until or unless such a day comes, I believe I serve my Emperor best by living. There is honor in self-sacrifice, but there is honor in a life of service as well. Do you truly think it so shameful or strange to have a preference?"

[Stygian]

Omnuud khosee-Huel cannot help but laugh. "Retribution? Ha! What, you plan to fly from your gas planet all the way to the edge of the empire, to our home, and destroy us there, in the void? I don't think so! The Reign would survive it, like it always does. We say, 'From the void, death.' Nothing from a dirtball or gascloud threatens us. You said it yourself. Your warriors would be too concerned with their own lives. Khylokians will die by the hundred to protect their home, and be happy for it!"

She laughs again, shaking her head. "'Wholesale eradication...' That's good. You planetsiders are funny, I'll give you that."

Where the Khylokians may have expected an outburst, Navarch Tuahine's expression falls into one of disappointment at the diatribe. "It must be lonely, screaming into the void for attention as you fight for relevance. No wonder you deigned to come planetside. But, the amount of drivel coming from your lips speaks to your fear. Unbecoming for a death cult." She nods--mostly to herself, and turns her attention away toward the Queen's presence. There was no reason to pay further heed to a brown dwarf among brighter stars.



The Queen has returned to a diplomat's dance, weaving from party to party to get things back on track. On her way towards the arriving dwarves, she near pirouettes as she addresses the enthusiastic offworlders.

"I am no doubt certain that all here are cognizant of the magnaminity shown by all parties in the grace they have shown one another in this difficult time. You might well be surprised by the famed control of the Glix--but we doubt your care no more than we do theirs. That you vie for this burden does both of your people credit, and this honor earned will be recalled by all present."



"From the furthest reaches of the Empire--or, perhaps to our furthest reaches--your delegation is a truly wonderful sight. We hope the excitement at hand doesn't weight your expectations too heavily towards excitement. This is, after all, an Arkhive, and we greet you with and can offer only peace. Can I see to it that anything be brought for you? If it is not too forward, I overheard some of your concerns about moisture--we have methods of applying hydrophobic wax that work well for our purposes. We'd be happy to share with you both our research and supplies." The Queen smiles. "And much other research besides. The, erm, engine currently being removed to a more remote research station is the most immediately impressive, but there are innovations from all parts of the Empire on hand.



Constance whirls onto the scene. "I trust that both our Imperial guests and our Mekhalan dignitaries both speak from a place of honest curiosity and intercultural wonder. We are all friends here, I do so hope." She gives an apologetic look to the High Lord as she leans towards the Khylokians, not lowering her voice but still apologizing for initiating a private conversation in front of him. "Your people have a wisdom even mine struggle to find, even as we watch it fly around us every day. Self-sacrifice for one's own civilization is the work of a higher class of creature, like the very bees who teach us our philosophies and order our society. When the time comes, which we fear it inevitably must, that the outside threats come, we hope sincerely to be able to count the Khylokians as part of our number, that we might learn from you and our peoples survive as yours always do."

"It is not that I doubt the prowess of Glix. I simply think it is an order of magnitude more than what is required, when a simple solution might be the safest. All honor in dismissing the Khylokian threat should go to the Jy'mar, and I would be a fool to claim anything more. Why fight for glory, when we can simply have the damned thing moved with expedience?" Still, as if realizing that perhaps she may have slighted The Hammer in this matter, she folds an arm over her chest, fist curled inward toward her breastbone in what could be surmised as a formal show of respect.

"As I said. We welcome proper relations with the other Elect. There is much we can learn, and much our bio-engineers would be pleased to share. We can offer rudimentary lessons in genetic therapy and removal of unwanted mutations. Any scientists or doctors among you are more than welcome to start an externship where we can assist you in tailoring these base principles to the unique biological aspects of your peoples."

[Elemental]

A Hive functionary hurries over. "A true honor to have you here, the Queen apologizes and wishes she could be present but is currently called on by a pressing concern, may I suggest we retire to, erm, out?" Their plastered smile and apologetic tone are fried with panic.

The Assistant Minister nodded and turned around to leave with the Hive functionary. She waits until they're both out of sight before she says anything, her voice low and on the verge of a growl.

"What the hell are you people playing at? I know that academic types can be a bit out of touch, but this smacks of wilful disregard for the safety of your guests. Today it was a fusion bomb, next time it could be assassins, if there even is a next time!" she said, her voice carrying an undercurrent of repressed fury, "Do not be mistaken, the First Minister will hear of your carelessness. Until such time as you actually possess event security I do not believe we will be sending any more delegates in person."

She takes a moment to calm herself down, breathing in deeply and muttering something in Ishtahn that translates to 'this person's just working here, don't be like her'. She bows politely, "Forgive me, I did not expect to face death today and I should not have taken out my frustrations on you. Here..." she hands the sealed briefcase to the functionary, "This is a gift for your Queen. You may inspect it, the code is printed on the lock."

If the functionary takes the briefcase they will find that it is much much heavier than it looks based on its size and should they open it they will see that inside are a hundred and twenty labelled crystal vials, each containing seeds.

[DKArthas]

"We had hoped to bring our salutations directly to Sovereign Protector Oirbsiu. We request that you convey them to him, along with our continued wishes for peaceful interactions and economic cooperation. In particular, we have a few details regarding some desires to purchase more of your famed metal exports, that we can easily discuss at your convenience.

"At present, we are also interested in your current status, and curious regarding your opinions of this event in particular. Both generally, as well as the more stimulating circumstances."[/SIZE][/FONT]



Serona gave the queen a well practiced smile that did not seem to reach the eyes. “The Republic has always been supportive of peaceful cooperation and commerce between all free people whether they be from sansar, badal or beyond, the place of their birth matters little to us, your majesty.” She closed her eyes for a moment in seeming sadness before continuing. “But it is our belief that only through constant vigilance and tireless effort can such things truly flower into something lasting. One can not allow those who only wish to sow chaos to do so freely. The foundation would be tragically flawed from the very beginning.”

Shaking her head as if to banish the terrible thought, she moved on to another more fruitful topic, brightening up .“Of course, I am positive His Radiance would be supportive of a trade agreement that allows merchants and industrialists to act freely across our respective borders alongside perhaps a mutual lowering of tariffs.”

[SerakHawk]

The Hammer bit back a retort about how, having no lungs, she didn't sneeze when she realized that, firstly, that said nothing about headaches, and, second, she would look like an fool if she presses the issue.


"It is not that I doubt the prowess of Glix. I simply think it is an order of magnitude more than what is required, when a simple solution might be the safest. All honor in dismissing the Khylokian threat should go to the Jy'mar, and I would be a fool to claim anything more. Why fight for glory, when we can simply have the damned thing moved with expedience?" Still, as if realizing that perhaps she may have slighted The Hammer in this matter, she folds an arm over her chest, fist curled inward toward her breastbone in what could be surmised as a formal show of respect.

"As I said. We welcome proper relations with the other Elect. There is much we can learn, and much our bio-engineers would be pleased to share. We can offer rudimentary lessons in genetic therapy and removal of unwanted mutations. Any scientists or doctors among you are more than welcome to start an externship where we can assist you in tailoring these base principles to the unique biological aspects of your peoples."


The Queen has returned to a diplomat's dance, weaving from party to party to get things back on track. On her way towards the arriving dwarves, she near pirouettes as she addresses the enthusiastic offworlders.

"I am no doubt certain that all here are cognizant of the magnaminity shown by all parties in the grace they have shown one another in this difficult time. You might well be surprised by the famed control of the Glix--but we doubt your care no more than we do theirs. That you vie for this burden does both of your people credit, and this honor earned will be recalled by all present."

Claudia grumbles to herself as the other delegates 'debate' on who would have the 'honor' of removing the bomb. Turning to the relevant groups and nodding at the Queen of the Arkhive the Jy'mar Team Lead clears her throat.
"Not to put too crass a point on it - can we stop the tail measuring and all pitch in? This is supposed to be a summit for cooperation - Many paws make light work. The Hammer, this Team Lead would greatly appreciate your aid in ensuring the stability of the device. Navarch Tuahine, if you would lend some of your people to aid in holding the burden of the table and device we can all work together. Lets Away then!"

{Bomb Exits Stage Left}


Omnuud khosee-Huel cannot help but laugh. "Retribution? Ha! What, you plan to fly from your gas planet all the way to the edge of the empire, to our home, and destroy us there, in the void? I don't think so! The Reign would survive it, like it always does. We say, 'From the void, death.' Nothing from a dirtball or gascloud threatens us. You said it yourself. Your warriors would be too concerned with their own lives. Khylokians will die by the hundred to protect their home, and be happy for it!"

She laughs again, shaking her head. "'Wholesale eradication...' That's good. You planetsiders are funny, I'll give you that."


Constance whirls onto the scene. "I trust that both our Imperial guests and our Mekhalan dignitaries both speak from a place of honest curiosity and intercultural wonder. We are all friends here, I do so hope." She gives an apologetic look to the High Lord as she leans towards the Khylokians, not lowering her voice but still apologizing for initiating a private conversation in front of him. "Your people have a wisdom even mine struggle to find, even as we watch it fly around us every day. Self-sacrifice for one's own civilization is the work of a higher class of creature, like the very bees who teach us our philosophies and order our society. When the time comes, which we fear it inevitably must, that the outside threats come, we hope sincerely to be able to count the Khylokians as part of our number, that we might learn from you and our peoples survive as yours always do."


The High Lord raises his hands in a placating gesture. "I meant no offense, and received none. And to answer your question, Omnuud, we do not look out for ourselves first. If my Emperor asked of me my death, I would walk to it with a smile on my lips and a song in my heart. But until or unless such a day comes, I believe I serve my Emperor best by living. There is honor in self-sacrifice, but there is honor in a life of service as well. Do you truly think it so shameful or strange to have a preference?"

A small disk containing a single seat hovers over to join the conversation. Illustrated Prime Marcus slipped his protectorate guard detail when Team Lead Claudia reported the all-clear to continue conversations with the delegates at the Banquet.

"Well said High Lord, The Illumined Utopian have much experience in both service and self-sacrifice. All threats in this world are magnified due to our small size so it is expected than for any such threat many of us will die in the protection of Utopian. I can't help but admire the Khylokian's stance on death and sacrifice for one's home, we too share the same determination and drive for protection. Even my arrival here to this banquet is a risk of my life, any number of creatures you consider nuisances are death sentences for my people. There are reasons we travel in such numbers - we expected causalities on this venture and the mass protects the few for the betterment of our people."

Marcus waves toward the Jy'mar scientist now being pulled out of the device, swarmed by a few others outside and embraces as other Jy'mar in white and red jackets shove them off to strip Occam and start treatments. The drama plays out in the background as the whole table the device is on is carted away by multiple parties working together. Marcus smiles and turns back to the Queen of the Arkhive.

"I do think your banquet was a success in cooperation my Queen, and the Khylokian's played their part of this tail. My respect to you Omnuud of the Khylokian for giving the people here a reminder of vigilance."

[Lt-Murgen]

Timey Bubbles, around the bomb. Make me feel happy, fill me with aplomb


The Herald pipes up, voice amplified by an unseen power. "She who is called The Hammer can move it with the power of her mind onto a transport, if the Arkhive would designate which should carry this... gift... to a suitable site for... study." The telekinetic psionic prodigy was reasonably sure they were never in any true danger, but being seem as a hero was a rare opportunity.

Senior Advisor Quinn was about to speak up when the Herald spoke out. Instead, they turned to their companion and spoke quietly. "Let us see how well their 'mind powers' are calibrated". They extended their senses towards the Herald, seeking to understand how their telekinesis functions. It consumed their attention, and they failed to see the small Jy'Mar leap INTO the device.


Sheepishly, after several moments, he paused and regarded Claudia Scipio. He skittered closer, head bowed, knees bent--just above eye level with the Team Lead. ”It is rare that one gets to observe the effects of exposure to intense radiation in real-time. Might I request a copy of your observations? Barring anything the Jy’mar consider to be patented, proprietary, or sensitive. We can certainly assist in repairing any genetic mutation that occurs—likely without the use of a razor on your poor technician.”

That pulled them away. "Dammit! We should have offered our help. We could have been shielding the poor fellow" They told their companion, who responded "But it would have been hard to maintain a mesh-link to the space around them" Quinn nodded gravely. "Still, we must apologize to Illustrated Prime Marcus."



[spoiler=A Tail Measuring Contest]
Claudia grumbles to herself as the other delegates 'debate' on who would have the 'honor' of removing the bomb. Turning to the relevant groups and nodding at the Queen of the Arkhive the Jy'mar Team Lead clears her throat.
"Not to put too crass a point on it - can we stop the tail measuring and all pitch in? This is supposed to be a summit for cooperation - Many paws make light work. The Hammer, this Team Lead would greatly appreciate your aid in ensuring the stability of the device. Navarch Tuahine, if you would lend some of your people to aid in holding the burden of the table and device we can all work together. Lets Away then!"

{Bomb Exits Stage Left}


Senior Advisor Quinn quickly summoned all their companions. Offering their aid, they made contact with the table. As others rushed in, the team quickly ensured proper grounding between the table and the device, pushing away any potential stray electrical source. Another confirmed what the Jy.Mar had said, and began mentally monitoring the internal workings to ensure stability. Quinn themselves altered the air pocket under the table, creating a stable pressure differential that reduced the overall weight by roughly 19.43%. Together, they filed out with the bomb, missing the talk among the Senior Diplomats

Later, to the Jy'mar
Quinn approached Illustrated Prime Marcus once again, after all has calmed down. "Your technician was quite brave. And quite skilled. He? is an honor to your people. I hope he is recovering. UNNCLE apologizes for not being able to assist more readily. He? acted so quickly we couldn't offer our EM shielding Prowess." They sighed regretfully.
But quickly moved on. "And I was informed there was a diplomatic... jousting I missed as well. You should feel assured that a threat we in UNNCLE see a threat to one Badalian Aerostat is a potential threat to all aerostats."

[Feathersnow]

The Hammer signals preparedness...


The Hammer persuades reality that it really doesn't think the Bomb should be on the ground anymore. Reality, being gullible, believes her. She carefully gaslights physics into moving the fusion device as the others guide it.If only people were this easy!

[Kythia]

As soon as the threat had materialised, Coedd had lumbered as fast as it was able to one of the potted plants in the corner of the room and placed its hand on the earth. Such was the intensity of the pheromone release it was probably detectable to those standing nearby, along with the rich green loamy smell of plants growing. It remained in that pose, Padraig hopping nervously next to it, until a good few minutes after the bomb had been handled before straightening abruptly and causing Padraig’s analyser to beep.

“Illustrated Prime Marcus” he said, after a couple of minutes thought and a quick check of the guest list. Another beep, more furrowed brows as he translated and then “It’s the same root as illustration. It’s quite interesting really, you see the Illuminated Utopians…” there is a single short sharp beep from the analyser and he gave an abashed “Of course. I’m sorry”

The two then make their way to stand in Marcus’ eyeline - Coedd motionless, Padraig shifting slightly and fidgeting a little, aware that if his former countrymen of the reserve had seen how quickly he gave ground he would have lost respect in their eyes.

[SerakHawk]

Occurs Following Conversation on Sacrifice

As soon as the threat had materialised, Coedd had lumbered as fast as it was able to one of the potted plants in the corner of the room and placed its hand on the earth. Such was the intensity of the pheromone release it was probably detectable to those standing nearby, along with the rich green loamy smell of plants growing. It remained in that pose, Padraig hopping nervously next to it, until a good few minutes after the bomb had been handled before straightening abruptly and causing Padraig’s analyser to beep.

“Illustrated Prime Marcus” he said, after a couple of minutes thought and a quick check of the guest list. Another beep, more furrowed brows as he translated and then “It’s the same root as illustration. It’s quite interesting really, you see the Illuminated Utopians…” there is a single short sharp beep from the analyser and he gave an abashed “Of course. I’m sorry”

The two then make their way to stand in Marcus’ eyeline - Coedd motionless, Padraig shifting slightly and fidgeting a little, aware that if his former countrymen of the reserve had seen how quickly he gave ground he would have lost respect in their eyes.

Noting the Coedd and Padraig catching his glances Marcus gives them a nod and when freed from other engagements finds his way to Coedd and its 'translator?' Aide. By this time a contingent of Protectorate bodyguards have found the escaped Illustrated Prime and have warily set up a 'perimeter' on the disc Marcus sits on.

"Greetings Coedd, may your leaves grow rich and your roots deep. It is interesting to meet a being that has such fervor directed toward it - we do not have the benefit of deep soil or nourishing rains on Badal so the bushes we cultivate pale in nature to the plants of Sansar. This meeting was most advantageous for many different people to mingle and meet - but it looked like you had something specific to broach with the Illumined Utopian?"

[Corona]

Scorcha had been aware of the risk of being overheard, of course, but she'd dismissed it - after all, if someone from another country in the Elect overheard the Dhaoine's plans, that just saved her the effort of having to explain herself again. When it came to this matter, if nothing else, she was being direct and forthright. The fact that it was one of the Kanites that was doing the eavesdropping made life particularly easier, given the proximity between their two countries. With that in mind, she takes Sladkor's lack of pleasantries just fine, smiling and nodding as he interjects himself into the conversation.

"The Reserve is what it is, Ambassador, and land is land. Those that can handle it in the Reserve will remain, and those looking for a change can live elsewhere. Either way, the extra territory will allow both groups to reach greater prosperity, and so it goes." She pauses, listening to the words he has about Greater Alfheim, noting his words about mercenary work and the former Kanite state with interest. "Ah yes, that reminds me. While we're here, telling each other what our respective states want...it seems like it's your turn, Ambassador. Now that the Kanites have been given this second lease on life through the Empire, what are your people's intentions now, when it comes to military and political affairs that you aren't being paid to do? Both in Zabava and abroad, I suppose."

Sladkor gives a quick reply without needing to think about it: "The official position is that we have been Elected to explore the depths of Tekhum, and to this task we will devote our resources. Our homeland is sufficiently rich in most necessities, and we have little need to extend our rule to other lands. Rather, we're prepared to serve them as trading partners and the like.

That being said, at this very moment, a request for the Emperor to allow the White Pawns to protect - federate - the region around the imperial embassy is being prepared, which might. You see, I'm not even under the government of the White Pawns - the Captains' council - although I'm representing them." He glances around and leans in a little conspiratorially. "They like to keep the civilians out like that. They're a bunch of hard-to-predict militarymen chosen by their lower-ranking underlings. Some of them adapt to politics well, some don't."





The un-bombening
As the High Lord moves forward to deal with the crisis, Hekla makes an abrupt turn away with her wheelchair to regroup with her younger brother. The situation seemed under control, but if things took a turn for the worse they could make it to the jet and be in the air within a couple minutes. If there wasn't some kind of countdown... it wouldn't make much of a difference anyways. Gripping the chair arm tightly, she scans around to see where Hinrik could have gone...

The Great Arkhival Dragonbreak

As the Kanite ambassador steps into the conversational vacuum left by the fusion reactor's interruption, Hinrik can only offer a bewildered stare before shaking his head and pushing his way past the new duo with a curt "Pardon me..." He similarly attempts to spot his sibling amidst the mostly-frenzied crowd while skirting his way around the room to the main entrance; as luck would have it, the two bump into each other some distance to the rear and side of the confrontation between the foreign madmen and the officials. As Hekla moves to speak, the brother interjects, usually-positive expression marred by a mix of bewilderment and contempt. "There's no time, we must make haste-"

...

Now back to your Regularly Scheduled Program


On cue, the representative of the Pawns begins to address Hinrik as he returns. The elf listens politely, smiling and nodding throughout the pitch. "Though it would please me greatly to work alongside your people in this endeavor, I ultimately hold little authority over our military. I shall present the idea to the Chancellor upon my return." As the conversation turns to history, Sladkor receives a brief look of confusion followed by a dawning understanding. "Ah, apologies, there must have been a misinterpretation. 'Alfheim' has never before been a coherent historical entity, simply a denotive term for lands inhabited by various elven cultures and states. For us, there is nothing to restore; we are at the apex of our power and poised to surpass it a hundred times over." He takes a few breaths, regathering his focus after the pan-nationalist spiel. "Of course, diverse histories are no reason for our aspirations to go unshared. I wish you great luck in the reconquest of your former realm!"


Contrasting with his interaction with Scorcha, the aged man's left eye narrows slightly in vexation, though he continues to speak with a patient, measured voice. "I see I didn't quite manage to convey my point. You would do well to never suggest reconquest or restoration of the old regime to another Kanite. After a devastating and pointless war with the Empire it has been considered a gaffe to advance the idea of Kan as a unified nation.

Perhaps we should send someone down to Radicefst, so that you may be well advised on these cultural matters. Naturally, we could also use a representative from Alfheim, to teach us... how to tell what century was an elf born in by how they dress? I don't know, that's the point." The corners of Sladkor's mouth turn upwards, a little amused by his own joke.





After she speaks with the Queen, Tanchitsa makes for the food, starved from the longest journey in her life. The Priestess of Ophon was not subject to rationing of any kind, but she is tired-starved. She wants to refresh her body and mind with the honey she could smell from the moment they moored at the dock. She eats in a complicated way, making sure she doesn't lift her veil by accident and that it appears like she is making the food disappear like a magician instead of consuming it like a normal person. Not to mention the servant who puts all the food on her plate instead of herself.

The priestess tries the Royal Jelly, which lifts her mood - visibly, despite the veil and all. She orders a purple pillow bearing a box made of a dark wood brought forth, and starts hollering for people to come closer and know their destiny. Her servants ensure that an orderly queue is formed toward the bench the Priestess is sitting on.


Late to the Party

The spaceship is a sturdy vessel of durable construction, but even so it is not immune to malfunction.
After a delay due to asteroid collision, the blocky, angular ship arrives some time late to the start of the banquet.

Ground control is, of course, contacted.
"A bomb!? If I'd known it was that sort of party, I'd have brought some of my own!" The response is accompanied by a deep-throated guffaw. The dwarven representative is hardly frightened by the prospect of explosions. In fact, he may well be the sort more pleased to be causing them.

With that out of the way, the ship lands and a small group of dwarves emerges. Clearly unused to the high gravity of Sansar (or maybe already somewhat drunk), they stumble into the conference. Their leader, wrinkled and white-bearded, goggles upon his forehead, takes furious notes in a messy scrawl upon his datapad.
"Quite a damp environment here. Should rustproof gear for future expeditions. Train specialists in maneuvering in gravity wells, yes." he mutters to himself, observing the area with interest.
The other dwarves follow behind, lightly armed and armored, looking more like miners than soldiers. They're scarred, and their carbide-edged pickaxes, although hanging at hips and slung across backs, are clearly more than capable of busting skulls as well as rocks.

The slightly mead-drunk priestess in many-layered dress grows frustrated that hardly anyone is paying attention to her wonderful offer of divination and has a slightly embarrassed handmaiden ask a dwarf or two to come to her table. Though her voice doesn't carry much, she tries to yell out to the dwarves even before they leave the entrance.
"Greetings misters dwarves! So heroic is your visage that I am making you a special, one-time offer: I will interpret your Fate! What kind of ore will you find in the future? Will you come to rule a country? Come closer and know!"

[moossabi]

Diplomazia con Volthawk e Corona

Contrasting with his interaction with Scorcha, the aged man's left eye narrows slightly in vexation, though he continues to speak with a patient, measured voice. "I see I didn't quite manage to convey my point. You would do well to never suggest reconquest or restoration of the old regime to another Kanite. After a devastating and pointless war with the Empire it has been considered a gaffe to advance the idea of Kan as a unified nation.

Perhaps we should send someone down to Radicefst, so that you may be well advised on these cultural matters. Naturally, we could also use a representative from Alfheim, to teach us... how to tell what century was an elf born in by how they dress? I don't know, that's the point." The corners of Sladkor's mouth turn upwards, a little amused by his own joke.

If the insult stings even an inkling, it doesn't reach Hinrik's eyes. The tactful smile simply twists upwards into a smirk. "Come now, Ambassador, this conduct would ill befit a comedian, much less we denizens of statecraft's high hall. I bear no ill will, of course, this is simply food for thought." He once again draws the map from his attire, absentmindedly laying it out on the table as he continues. "A second musing of mine, people often make assumptions of others' wills based on their own frame of mind. Though I know many of your people suppress the thought of it, you certainly had national histories on the mind when you assumed that was our Chancellor's motivating goal. For my part, I took this as indicative of a motivation that I now see we do not share."

He concludes his straightening of the map, procuring a pen from a different pocket and pointing to Verdalfheim and the Reserve of the Eilif Dhaoine. "Responsibility." Hinrik proceeds to start tapping away at every non-Elect region on this map of Sansar, casting a disdainful glance into the middle of the room and its finally-resolving crisis. "Imagine, if you would, some raid by these offworlders being committed against an isolated region on Sansar. One of their craft goes down - all it takes is a lucky shot - and their drives lands on a civilian population center. Thousands dead - millions, even. But that's not all-" He now points specifically to Region 22. "Were a nuclear detonation to be triggered here, the radioactive cloud would affect Kan proper as well. Now, if this is allowed to become a frequent event, or - heaven forbid - some hostile entity gains ground on Firmament and uses it to rain death on all the good people of this planet from above..." Staring Slakdor straight in the eyes, Hinrik draws a circle around all of Zabava with the exception of Region 24. "We all hold the power to avert catastrophe, it is our duty to ensure that Sansar is protected by its Elect." He sighs, clicking the pen closed and shrugging. "I care not what the past held, for all our sakes my wish for you to break free of this apathy is sincere. This occupation of yours will never abate until you allow yourselves to be more valuable to our Emperor than mere Pawns."

[MrHeadcrab]

One of the Jy'mar shakes her head slowly and steps away from the rest to properly greet Szuc Gdbss Hinmyrilranema - her lightly colored fur peaks through the lead-lined flak jacket don'd on her torso while a splotch of black streaks down the right side of her head from her whiskers to behind her ear. Standing straight and tall she gives Szuc a nod of the head. Her voice carries much closer to that of a normal human without any obvious amplifying device. "Well met Cousin Szur Gdbss Hinmyrilranema, I am Team Lead Claudia Scipio - it is good to meet you in the fur rather than over InterPlaNet, and I do compliment you on yours. Apologies for my colleagues, we are quite an excitable bunch." Snapping her head back to the scrum she barks out at them. "Stop. Occam - go in, the rest - support."
The six durats nod back in acknowledgment in unison. "Well met Leader Scipio, it is fantastic to meet you and your fine fellows in person! To think, after such long isolation our peoples may reunite, I am rather excited." At this time, the Queen speaks, and Szuc temporarily bids a brief farewell.

"Our thanks to the graceful intercession of the Emperor's High Lord and his contingent, the alacritous response of the Jy'mar, and the sharp discernment of they who may be the good Professor--and, if not, our Technology Librarian.

"On which subject, time now allowing, the Arkhive's warmest greetings to representatives of Burtzland, our erstwhile research partners; the good representatives of the Kingdom of High Ishtanos, who have come all this way to find no jest but instead our embarrassment at failing to immediately greet them with the honor they merit; and the Eucrus Alliance, whose good humor we cherish and whose apologies are unwarranted as their very presence is a great gift."
"I am honored, your majesty. But I cannot claim your words all to myself, the Exalted has yet to arrive, though I suppose that fault is mine. The ceremony procedure took longer than expected."

It is about this time as the tension moves from bombs to words, that a larger party of durats arrive. First come some two dozen, rushing in on all fours. Frankly, they're adorable. Little legs dashing forwards in perfect sync. Cute little goggles over their eyes and little backpacks that have toy guns attached... though, the knowing could identify the glasses as tactical MicroLed Tactical Combat Glasses and the weapons as GPCs (Gauss Plasma Casters). After the security guards deem the side entrance secure, they signal in the final pod.

The pod that enters next moves differently than the others. Shuffling into the room on their two back legs, heads moving about and scanning the room. To durats, they look regal and quite dignified. To everyone else, they may have well been meerkats larping as flamingos. But cultural norms to be considered, it would be quite rude to laugh, even if the scene is comical.

Conveniently, the Exaulted Pod enters near where the Assistant Minister moved out of sight. (Forgive me, I missed the part where you moved away and had written enough I liked and didn't want to redo)

The Assistant Minister nodded and turned around to leave with the Hive functionary. She waits until they're both out of sight before she says anything, her voice low and on the verge of a growl.

"What the hell are you people playing at? I know that academic types can be a bit out of touch, but this smacks of wilful disregard for the safety of your guests. Today it was a fusion bomb, next time it could be assassins, if there even is a next time!" she said, her voice carrying an undercurrent of repressed fury, "Do not be mistaken, the First Minister will hear of your carelessness. Until such time as you actually possess event security I do not believe we will be sending any more delegates in person."

She takes a moment to calm herself down, breathing in deeply and muttering something in Ishtahn that translates to 'this person's just working here, don't be like her'. She bows politely, "Forgive me, I did not expect to face death today and I should not have taken out my frustrations on you. Here..." she hands the sealed briefcase to the functionary, "This is a gift for your Queen. You may inspect it, the code is printed on the lock."

If the functionary takes the briefcase they will find that it is much much heavier than it looks based on its size and should they open it they will see that inside are a hundred and twenty labelled crystal vials, each containing seeds.
Joining in hushed conversation, the Exalted Speaks, "Greetings, fellow frequently furry from far. I beseech that you pay grace to our host. Was it not that the elect just signed, and travel afar only become possible? It is now the first time in all of modern history that we meet. The walls from space are rusted, their very seams crack and barely act as tether to Sansar. If the rage of the ancient Bombardments were in a king's eyes, who then could stop them? The gates have long since rusted open. But the result of rage is rage greater still, focused in our unity. This is the risk we knew when we arrived, and yet arrived we are. So please do not diminish our host, who took this risk upon their house."
Turning and to the Queen and entering the room proper, the Exalted Pod responds to her greeting. "Our most joyful greetings in return, we are glad to be here, and what a here it is. So many have come, and so many have been. This event will be studied for centuries, and you and yours will be marked for praise. We come baring gift, a lesson in durat companionship to assist in long flights."
Then finally, turning to the crowd. "I am the Exalted Vuk Cssskk Tyculhajodejana. To those of you known to me, I greet you. To those of you unknown, I greet you. Let us partake in honey and meetings."

[Lumaeus]

APIS UPDATE

Let me know if any of this seems wrong to you. I know there are those who may want to make explicit a submission or the sealing of Membership. That'll be easy--just lemme know.
APIS Midround Summary

Gifted techs:
ARK (Host): Xenolinguistics
BAF: Nuclear Fusion
CUS: Arcane Amplification
ELD: In Vivo Modification
GCC: Arcane Amplification
ILU: Aclaustrophobic Psychiatry
KRB: Nuke Fusion
RAT: Aclaustrophobic Psychiatry
TEA: In Vivo Modification
(Note: UNC does not share their Arcane Amplification, but does indicate that it may do so with coreligionists in the future)

Explicit Acceptance of Nonaggression (and thus Membership):
BAF (Visiting)
ELD (Local)
ILU (Visiting)
WTP (Local)


Submitted Works:
Check out SerakHawk's submission template. It's sooooo convenient for me. You don't have to do it like this. But I love it.
GCC: Glim the Bard and the Tyrannocopter (history?)
ILU: Day One in the life of a Jy'mar citizen, by Cluatis Masiziou (culture)
ILU: Untitled Mytho-Historical Date Gathering text (history)
ILU: Writings of a Primarch on Strife (Theo/Mythological/Philosophical)
ILU: Captain Eponymous Beara (Researcher)

Unsubmitted Works:
I ignored action fluff for the most part, but consider if you have any you're proud of and can easily convert.
BAF: Untitled Mytho-Historical Date Gathering text
COE: So much writing, but not submitted in any particular categories (yet). I know I have to dig up your sacred site description and publish it and credit it somehow.
ELD: A Sealga's Guide isn't out yet
GCC: Untitled Mytho-Historical Date Gathering text
GLO: What We're Telling Them Zelfs Are
RRE: News&Rumors section is a solid modern history

TOTALS:
1st ILU 6 (2 tech + 1 history + 1 History + 1 Theological + 1 Researcher)
2nd GCC 3 (2 tech + 1 history)
3rd BAF 2 (2 tech)
3rd CUS 2 (2 tech)
3rd ELD 2 (2 tech)
3rd KRB 2 (2 tech)
3rd TEA 2 (2 tech)
3rd RAT 2 (2 tech)




To UNC, whom we accidentally left on read at the beginning
The Queen herself moves to accept the gift, looking at it in open wonder. "What a magnificent device! Such a tailor-made application of your technologies to our circumstances bespeaks a great empathy and vast understanding among your people. We hope sincerely we can repay this care in kind."




"As I said. We welcome proper relations with the other Elect. There is much we can learn, and much our bio-engineers would be pleased to share. We can offer rudimentary lessons in genetic therapy and removal of unwanted mutations. Any scientists or doctors among you are more than welcome to start an externship where we can assist you in tailoring these base principles to the unique biological aspects of your peoples."

The Queen smiles. "I hope it will cause no offense when I freely admit that one of my primary goals upon learning of your attendance at this conference was to wheedle such an offer from you. That it is so freely given is an auspicious beginning for our diplomacies. One of our researchers, Polyphemus Gourmand the five hundred ninety-fifth and thirty-six hundredths--a sub-Technician from Natural Sciences and Mathematics--has already outlined research interests in a prospectus and prepared some of his own team's findings for sharing. I believe he's also identified other experts from the five hundred ninety-fifth who he would care to work with." The Queen gives a politely pained look. "I understand entirely, and have impressed upon him, that any opportunity would be at your pleasure and that all of his preparations are a mere wishlist rather than demands he can make. I suppose you also understand the enthusiasm of the impassioned researcher."




"What the hell are you people playing at? I know that academic types can be a bit out of touch, but this smacks of wilful disregard for the safety of your guests. Today it was a fusion bomb, next time it could be assassins, if there even is a next time!" she said, her voice carrying an undercurrent of repressed fury, "Do not be mistaken, the First Minister will hear of your carelessness. Until such time as you actually possess event security I do not believe we will be sending any more delegates in person."
[AND THEN THE DURATS TALK A BIT TO THEM]

While smoothing over the post-bomb excitement, a Librarian comes up and whispers something into the Queen's ear. She excuses herself and hurries to catch the delegation from High Ishtahnos. Before reaching eyeshot, she converts her run into a hurried walk just past the bounds of typical decorum--it was a gamble, but hopefully the abandonment of rigid propriety would help convince her guests of her sincerity.

"Honored Veehran guests, you do us great honor to have come all this way. I am Queen Constance of Comment, and it is in the wake of a heartening embarrassment that I welcome you to our Arkhive. Please, the danger has passed. The guests are met, the feast is set, just hear the merry din! We have the shared learning of a dozen cultures across all the worlds of Tekhum, and have learned yet more. Our stacks are open to you, all we have is yours to enjoy, and your safety is guaranteed by the very bees that buzz above us."




[spoiler=A Tail Measuring Contest]
"I do think your banquet was a success in cooperation my Queen, and the Khylokian's played their part of this tail. My respect to you Omnuud of the Khylokian for giving the people here a reminder of vigilance."

"Honor given and respect earned from Badal to Mekhala and back again," smiles the Queen, which is totally a valid speech tag. "How close the Empire grows, and how secure we are when joined together in one purpose."




The slightly mead-drunk priestess in many-layered dress grows frustrated that hardly anyone is paying attention to her wonderful offer of divination and has a slightly embarrassed handmaiden ask a dwarf or two to come to her table. Though her voice doesn't carry much, she tries to yell out to the dwarves even before they leave the entrance.
"Greetings misters dwarves! So heroic is your visage that I am making you a special, one-time offer: I will interpret your Fate! What kind of ore will you find in the future? Will you come to rule a country? Come closer and know!"

Her Arkhival Majesty, though unwilling to risk any ruffled feathers an ill prophecy might cause if given to her, tilts her head towards the dwarves. "Given the excitement of the Conference so far, perhaps we would have benefited from not being so hesitant to heed her call. Who knows what may have been revealed?"




Then finally, turning to the crowd. "I am the Exalted Vuk Cssskk Tyculhajodejana. To those of you known to me, I greet you. To those of you unknown, I greet you. Let us partake in honey and meetings."

The Queen smiles. "To play host to the Exalted Pod is always an honor. Durat science is known across the system to be ardent and tireless. In so many fields, the University of Burtzland is unparalleled, and I must impress upon all gathered the beauty of Coastaphornia. We of the Arkhive would exchange researchers with all present, but I will personally vouch for the genius of Burtzland. It is the ground floor and the cutting edge of a truly astounding number of fields. You would not go wrong in partnering with them."

[Elemental]

Joining in hushed conversation, the Exalted Speaks, "Greetings, fellow frequently furry from far. I beseech that you pay grace to our host. Was it not that the elect just signed, and travel afar only become possible? It is now the first time in all of modern history that we meet. The walls from space are rusted, their very seams crack and barely act as tether to Sansar. If the rage of the ancient Bombardments were in a king's eyes, who then could stop them? The gates have long since rusted open. But the result of rage is rage greater still, focused in our unity. This is the risk we knew when we arrived, and yet arrived we are. So please do not diminish our host, who took this risk upon their house."

"Honored Veehran guests, you do us great honor to have come all this way. I am Queen Constance of Comment, and it is in the wake of a heartening embarrassment that I welcome you to our Arkhive. Please, the danger has passed. The guests are met, the feast is set, just hear the merry din! We have the shared learning of a dozen cultures across all the worlds of Tekhum, and have learned yet more. Our stacks are open to you, all we have is yours to enjoy, and your safety is guaranteed by the very bees that buzz above us."

Trying to make sense of this, forgive me if I misunderstand the positioning of things but I believe this is a correct response.

Sarah looks with both surprise and considerable irritation as her private conversation with an Arkhival functionary is interrupted by someone she doesn't realise is very important. Her attempts to calm herself are now fully abandoned and she begins to grow a little in height.

"Grace? You speak to me of grace when you not only eavesdrop but rudely interrupt to tell me how I should respond to a dire threat to my very life? It seems like anyone could have walked in and set off a bomb! What if, Sun forbid it, the High King had deigned to attend? I know not of the customs of Sansar, but on Veehra we ensure the safety of our guests. If her Arkhival Majesty wished to take risk upon herself then she-" It was at this point that Queen Constance arrived, rather effectively taking the wind out of Sarah's sails, though it's clear she's not exactly mollified by the assurance that bees will protect her. Still, she bows stiffly, grabs the briefcase from the functionary and hands it to the Queen.

"Your Arkhival Majesty, Queen Constance, The High King of Ishtahnos extends greetings to you and your people and hopes that this meagre gift will act as a seed for friendship between us," she says in her best attempt to not be frazzled.

[Volthawk]

<Back>

<and forth>

When she sees the two she's talking with get agitated with each other, Scorcha decides to not agitate things or smooth them over, but to merely let it play out. Both countries were ones she had cause to be concerned over, after all, and if they ended up at each other's throats, all of their own volition...well, she couldn't complain about that at all. Still, it was leading to a lot of tidbits of information that might be quite useful in the future. That said, some matters did require further discussion.

"Ah yes, I'd heard a little about those efforts in the north. If that's what they wish, I suppose there's not much more to say there - I hope it goes well. Now, beyond that...your people were chosen in ordero to explore Tekhum? Interesting - I noticed that most of Zabava has not been described in the information I have access to. I suppose rectifying that is part of your remit, yes? Although not in the interest of conquering the territory for yourselves, naturally, lest anyone draw parralels to this old regime you've mentioned."


<Wine and diplomacy talk>

Giving the approaching funcionary a polite nod and smile, Scorcha can't see any good reason to refuse the offer. "Of course. I'm sure my people will appreciate the opportunity to see all yours have to offer."


<post-bomb remnant delegation>

Seeing that some people from the Fomorian delegation are still around after the whole bomb business has been resolved, Scorcha approaches one of them and asks to see whoever is left in charge, letting them know that it's about the interest their country had shown in the Reserve's industry.

[Lumaeus]

"Your Arkhival Majesty, Queen Constance, The High King of Ishtahnos extends greetings to you and your people and hopes that this meagre gift will act as a seed for friendship between us," she says in her best attempt to not be frazzled.

Constance, depending on the nature of the gift, either reads or sees or checks or otherwise comes to discover its contents, and her eyes go wide in appreciation. "What a generous gift! This will link not only our peoples but our worlds. There has been common origin and some cross-pollination between planets, but for so long the course of evolution has diverged. This begins an exchange of new unity."

The functionary who had been [s]verbally abused[/i] the grateful recipient of the Minister's measured critique makes one last comment before excusing themself. "As to your concerns about safety at the Conference, the Queen will surely be a listening ear." After their escape, they will spend the rest of the evening with honeyed tea and a copy of their favorite story The Little Functionary Who Could.

"Ah," Constance looks pained. "Yes. We regret our misapprehension of the risks, though the good humor of the Khylokians does suggest this was on their part a measured performance more than a true attempt at destruction. When discussing security, we considered personal risks and personal violence. These, we could safely consider covered, as the sheer billions of bees that could be brought to bear as quickly as any security force would be enough to extinguish threat. We openly admit to having failed to consider this rather more dramatic turn.

"But," she her eyes twinkle despite the gravity of her expression. "As the noble peoples of Tekhum demonstrated in their mutual assistance in disarming and removing the threat, we can accomplish all things when we work together. The Arkhive clearly lacks the experience and perspective of High Ishtahnos. Perhaps we could send our security teams to your noble kingdom to learn from you, or perhaps you would want to lead security for the Second Hexenniel. After all, you would have surely seen this coming a kilomile away, and that wisdom can help shepherd us all into a peaceful future as an interplanetary community."

[MrHeadcrab]

The Queen smiles. "To play host to the Exalted Pod is always an honor. Durat science is known across the system to be ardent and tireless. In so many fields, the University of Burtzland is unparalleled, and I must impress upon all gathered the beauty of Coastaphornia. We of the Arkhive would exchange researchers with all present, but I will personally vouch for the genius of Burtzland. It is the ground floor and the cutting edge of a truly astounding number of fields. You would not go wrong in partnering with them."
The Speaker Supreme gives a warm smile. "It is honor indeed, to receive such accolades from the Queen of the Arkhive. For who better could know, than the keeper of knowledge? May the big pile ever grow and the shelves expand."
The Exalted Pod casts its eyes over the crowed, lingering for perhaps a moment longer on The Kanite delegation and Fiorid dynasty dignitaries, "I hope your words towards partnering turn prophetic. It may be near time to offer subsidized trade."

Sarah looks with both surprise and considerable irritation as her private conversation with an Arkhival functionary is interrupted by someone she doesn't realise is very important. Her attempts to calm herself are now fully abandoned and she begins to grow a little in height.

"Grace? You speak to me of grace when you not only eavesdrop but rudely interrupt to tell me how I should respond to a dire threat to my very life? It seems like anyone could have walked in and set off a bomb! What if, Sun forbid it, the High King had deigned to attend? I know not of the customs of Sansar, but on Veehra we ensure the safety of our guests. If her Arkhival Majesty wished to take risk upon herself then she-" It was at this point that Queen Constance arrived, rather effectively taking the wind out of Sarah's sails, though it's clear she's not exactly mollified by the assurance that bees will protect her. Still, she bows stiffly, grabs the briefcase from the functionary and hands it to the Queen.

"Your Arkhival Majesty, Queen Constance, The High King of Ishtahnos extends greetings to you and your people and hopes that this meagre gift will act as a seed for friendship between us," she says in her best attempt to not be frazzled.
The Speaker Supreme doesn't turn back to Sarah, but one of his Great Wisers responds as the Exalted Pod moves to other conversations. "It seems my words were unwanted, I leave you."
As the Exalted Pod moves away from Sarah, Head Professor Szuc Gdbss Hinmyrilranema wanders over. The six Durat scientist speaks quickly with enthusiasm. "Those were bold words to the Exalted Pod, but you've intrigued me. I had no awareness that the technology in Veehra was so advanced, it is marvelous! Being able to ensure safety in these unpreceded times is well, unprecedented! Please, you must share with me. How is it that those in Veehra would prevent someone with the newly given Imperial Engines from accelerating into atmosphere and detonating their ship's power source? And so soon, the Engines were just gifted, your engineers must be mighty indeed do have already prevented this occurrence. That was something difficult even in the time of the War of Eternal Bombardments! Pardon my excitement, is your High King willing to share this technology, what is his price? Are you interested in joint research ventures?"

[JBarca]

At Illustrated Prime Marcus' words, the Khylokian delegate seems pleased.

"Eight of my crew died on the journey here, and I consider that a blessing. When death comes easy, it doesn't pay to fret."

She shrugs. "Death is death. All you can do is take what you can before then from those that don't grasp the way things work. Fearing death, running from it, fighting it? What kind of life is that in the first place?"

[MrHeadcrab]

At Illustrated Prime Marcus' words, the Khylokian delegate seems pleased.

"Eight of my crew died on the journey here, and I consider that a blessing. When death comes easy, it doesn't pay to fret."

She shrugs. "Death is death. All you can do is take what you can before then from those that don't grasp the way things work. Fearing death, running from it, fighting it? What kind of life is that in the first place?"
"Only those who's legacy is guaranteed by their people are afforded the luxury to welcome death. Your security is a credit to your culture. Though, some here do suffer from the fear of death. It would likely benefit diplomatic efforts to avoid terrifying them, unless terror is your goal." The Exalted Pod approaches the Khylokians in high spirits, perhaps even impressed by their audacity.

[Kythia]

Occurs Following Conversation on Sacrifice


Noting the Coedd and Padraig catching his glances Marcus gives them a nod and when freed from other engagements finds his way to Coedd and its 'translator?' Aide. By this time a contingent of Protectorate bodyguards have found the escaped Illustrated Prime and have warily set up a 'perimeter' on the disc Marcus sits on.

"Greetings Coedd, may your leaves grow rich and your roots deep. It is interesting to meet a being that has such fervor directed toward it - we do not have the benefit of deep soil or nourishing rains on Badal so the bushes we cultivate pale in nature to the plants of Sansar. This meeting was most advantageous for many different people to mingle and meet - but it looked like you had something specific to broach with the Illumined Utopian?"

There's a rapid series of beeps from the analyser and Padraig draws a deep breath. "OK. So. I think that 'rock one' must be Badal, it's the only thing I can think of that makes sense in context. Assuming I'm right...OK. Coedd agrees that Badal is, errr, I guess you'd say 'vegtetation poor' or something. She...ah, bloody subjunctives...she would send herself to work on your plants but she doesn't think you want Coedd in...what would that be...in your lands. She, oh, this is rare, she wishes you to send representatives to meet with her in the island of Coedd, Coedd-Island. To talk about Coedd on Badal and the Illuminated Utopians in Sansar. To avoid competition - errr, you have to realise Coedd thinks very negatively of competition. By their very nature they like things working in harmony. So that's 'competition' in the sense of 'conflict' really. Yes. She is inviting a delegation. Some time in the next few years."

[Corona]

Diplomazia con Volthawk e
Corona


If the insult stings even an inkling, it doesn't reach Hinrik's eyes. The tactful smile simply twists upwards into a smirk. "Come now, Ambassador, this conduct would ill befit a comedian, much less we denizens of statecraft's high hall. I bear no ill will, of course, this is simply food for thought." He once again draws the map from his attire, absentmindedly laying it out on the table as he continues. "A second musing of mine, people often make assumptions of others' wills based on their own frame of mind. Though I know many of your people suppress the thought of it, you certainly had national histories on the mind when you assumed that was our Chancellor's motivating goal. For my part, I took this as indicative of a motivation that I now see we do not share."

He concludes his straightening of the map, procuring a pen from a different pocket and pointing to Verdalfheim and the Reserve of the Eilif Dhaoine. "Responsibility." Hinrik proceeds to start tapping away at every non-Elect region on this map of Sansar, casting a disdainful glance into the middle of the room and its finally-resolving crisis. "Imagine, if you would, some raid by these offworlders being committed against an isolated region on Sansar. One of their craft goes down - all it takes is a lucky shot - and their drives lands on a civilian population center. Thousands dead - millions, even. But that's not all-" He now points specifically to Region 22. "Were a nuclear detonation to be triggered here, the radioactive cloud would affect Kan proper as well. Now, if this is allowed to become a frequent event, or - heaven forbid - some hostile entity gains ground on Firmament and uses it to rain death on all the good people of this planet from above..." Staring Slakdor straight in the eyes, Hinrik draws a circle around all of Zabava with the exception of Region 24. "We all hold the power to avert catastrophe, it is our duty to ensure that Sansar is protected by its Elect." He sighs, clicking the pen closed and shrugging. "I care not what the past held, for all our sakes my wish for you to break free of this apathy is sincere. This occupation of yours will never abate until you allow yourselves to be more valuable to our Emperor than mere Pawns."

Sladkor nods and raises his eyebrows as Hinrik indicates huge, mostly unknown areas of land on the map. "We share your concerns about outworlders like these, and we will work to prevent undesirable interactions, intentional or unintentional on their part. Though given that there is a sizable number of the Elect on Sansar, we can pick our allies in doing so. It is possible to protect Sansar without annexing all of the non-Elect nations, or at least it is worth trying. If the Khylokians can be Elect, there are civilized nations among the non-Elect."

The Kanite diplomat doesn't let on if he was offended. He merely looks away for a while, perhaps to mentally note to make a reprisal against Hinrik at a later date.

"I would hardly call the lack of a drive to subjugate others apathy. Everyone has their role to play - and I would be surprised if you told me the elves don't believe this, considering your society is hiearchically structured to such a degree - if the role we're to play is that of pawns, then we shall accept it wholeheartedly and without reservations."



When she sees the two she's talking with get agitated with each other, Scorcha decides to not agitate things or smooth them over, but to merely let it play out. Both countries were ones she had cause to be concerned over, after all, and if they ended up at each other's throats, all of their own volition...well, she couldn't complain about that at all. Still, it was leading to a lot of tidbits of information that might be quite useful in the future. That said, some matters did require further discussion.

"Ah yes, I'd heard a little about those efforts in the north. If that's what they wish, I suppose there's not much more to say there - I hope it goes well. Now, beyond that...your people were chosen in ordero to explore Tekhum? Interesting - I noticed that most of Zabava has not been described in the information I have access to. I suppose rectifying that is part of your remit, yes? Although not in the interest of conquering the territory for yourselves, naturally, lest anyone draw parralels to this old regime you've mentioned."


"Your people and the other Elect were chosen as well, I believe. Although the spaceships given by the Empire are not necessary for exploring the forgotten parts of Sansar, it is a good opportunity to reestablish contact with them."

[Lt-Murgen]

The slightly mead-drunk priestess in many-layered dress grows frustrated that hardly anyone is paying attention to her wonderful offer of divination and has a slightly embarrassed handmaiden ask a dwarf or two to come to her table. Though her voice doesn't carry much, she tries to yell out to the dwarves even before they leave the entrance.
"Greetings misters dwarves! So heroic is your visage that I am making you a special, one-time offer: I will interpret your Fate! What kind of ore will you find in the future? Will you come to rule a country? Come closer and know!"

It occurred to Senior Advisor that they had completely forgotten about the young Priestess until started sending her adjutants to drum up business. The Kanites were on the list of high-value contacts given to them by the Board. Human, or nearly so. Hairless, whether by choice or happenstance, and cranial plates. Could they possess a form of naturally occuring biomesh? what little is known about their history and Faith indicate some evidence of either branching or co-evolution.

Waiting in line patiently She greeted the younger woman "Greetings, Priestess Tanchitsa. I am Senior Advisor Quinn Emery Kai Rene of The United Neural Networks Confounding Limitless Exigency, commonly referred to as UNNCLE. I have a great interest in what your abilities" the advisore made a cutting motion in the air at the word. Their voice took on a brief harmonic across 3 full octaves. "make of myself and ours."

[Stygian]

The Queen smiles. "I hope it will cause no offense when I freely admit that one of my primary goals upon learning of your attendance at this conference was to wheedle such an offer from you. That it is so freely given is an auspicious beginning for our diplomacies. One of our researchers, Polyphemus Gourmand the five hundred ninety-fifth and thirty-six hundredths--a sub-Technician from Natural Sciences and Mathematics--has already outlined research interests in a prospectus and prepared some of his own team's findings for sharing. I believe he's also identified other experts from the five hundred ninety-fifth who he would care to work with." The Queen gives a politely pained look. "I understand entirely, and have impressed upon him, that any opportunity would be at your pleasure and that all of his preparations are a mere wishlist rather than demands he can make. I suppose you also understand the enthusiasm of the impassioned researcher."

With the bomb finally in the pocket of their Utopian neighbors, the Navarch’s stern disposition seems to ease somewhat. A moment is spared to tighten the strap that holds the stun baton in place, and Tuahine then puts her attention once more toward the Queen Bee.

”Ah. I suppose we could have played hard to get, Your Majesty—but, such a thing would be against our interests, as fun as it might have been. One of the Alliance’s many goals has always been that of furthering our people through the pursuit of science.. Both metaphorically, and literally. How aggressively twee it would be to hold back now.” She chuckled, and seemed to weigh the proposal for a moment.

”Excitement is what we hoped for, Your Majesty. Polyphemus is more than welcome. If he could give a list of accommodations that would be required to make his stay comfortable, we will gladly oblige within reason. I would also ask that any assistants or peers are limited to a smaller team. My civil engineers can run the exact numbers based on your needs and available space.”

“Of course, this offer is open to any other delegations as well—so long as no one deigns to bring a bomb.”

[Rolepgeek]

Let no one accuse a pirate of being punctual. Especially not the individual most resembling what would in other countries be by all rights the head of state: the Captain of the Black Cloud Coalition herself, Jié Měifēng, and the small entourage of crewmates that accompanied her as she descended the exit ramp from their perfectly parked...armed transport was the classification which had been reported to Arkhive authorities, though the personnel now taking stock of the number of weapon systems the ship seemed to be positively dripping with appeared to find this doubtful.

"Chilly, isn't it, Cap'n?"

Let no one accuse a pirate of being boring. As the group approached the entrance, most unhooked their face masks, revealing the pressure seal marks from decades of habitual wear long since worn into their skin - or in some cases, the mechanical grooves where the machinery locked into their facial restructuring. All carried sidearms - not that leaving them behind would have made a difference. All wore their hair - or pseudo-hair - in what could be generously called 'unconventional' styles. All wore heavy coats, on which were emblazoned personal symbols, stylized images, holographic designs, and other individuating features; all of these having been added only in the past month on the journey here. The barest glint of chrome peaked out from behind those heavy coats as the crew swaggered and joked around their silent captain. Intricate corners of what must be torso-covering tattoos creep from behind collars, and the false circuitry of dimly glowing subdermal implants hints at aesthetic preferences towards showing off even the more subtle cybernetics among them. Even the Little Queen's eyes are a gunmetal black in their sclera, though the faint glow of her multicolored irises is lost in the glare of the light.

"'Course it's ****ing 'chilly', Li, we're in Sansar's frozen *******, what did you expect?"

"Well 'scuse me for tryin' to make small talk to keep our minds off it, sir officer Wen sir. Would you rather I busy myself thawing the pipe shoved up yours?"

"Shut it, both of you. We're talking for more than ourselves here for once. If you can't keep your jaws shut when they need to be on your own, I'll ask Doc to help out and replace your teeth with magnets."

Let no one accuse a pirate of being ignorant. Forward reconnaissance drones with directional mics, infrared cameras, and LADAR imaging had been letting them keep tabs for days leading up to the event while en route, and ZhiZhi had been collating the information the rest of their PEEARITs had been recording to provide reports on the events to the crew. The Emperor may have made the Coalition elect, but he'd also raised up a lot of petty tyrants and some real psychos alongside them. Any old group with some modicum of stability and ambition had been eligible, it seemed. Meifeng herself hoped to find opportunities and allies across the system while here - they'd outlasted the retaliation of Badal's best and blandest, but her code-heads told her that word on the InterPlaNet was that there were some folks out there that wouldn't hesitate to send entire habitats to the loving embrace of the surface to revenge presumed slights - and that a lot of crews would take that as a challenge instead of a warning, given how well they'd done in the Cloud Sea. She'd need to find like-minded warlords for logistical bases in farther orbits, and suitable targets to cut their teeth on.

Coalition captain Jie Meifeng - the only one to have left her coat unadorned save for the Skull, Sky, and Stars of the Coalition spray-painted across the back - took off the heavy synthetic wool and pseudo-leather garment as she entered the building, revealing the provocative scarlet dress she wore beneath - and the gleaming, articulated chrome muscle-plating stretching across almost her entire upper torso, including both arms, and slit up the left flank to better display the fully artificial leg on that side. The dull glow of golden bleedtats splaying out from ZhiZhi's hardcase at the base of her skull only reinforced the effect as she stretched out the artificial muscles (how was it that they still got sore, anyway?). It had been her brother's idea to show off like this.

After all - who needed armor with a body like this?

[moossabi]

@Volthawk, @Corona

When she sees the two she's talking with get agitated with each other, Scorcha decides to not agitate things or smooth them over, but to merely let it play out. Both countries were ones she had cause to be concerned over, after all, and if they ended up at each other's throats, all of their own volition...well, she couldn't complain about that at all. Still, it was leading to a lot of tidbits of information that might be quite useful in the future. That said, some matters did require further discussion.

"Ah yes, I'd heard a little about those efforts in the north. If that's what they wish, I suppose there's not much more to say there - I hope it goes well. Now, beyond that...your people were chosen in ordero to explore Tekhum? Interesting - I noticed that most of Zabava has not been described in the information I have access to. I suppose rectifying that is part of your remit, yes? Although not in the interest of conquering the territory for yourselves, naturally, lest anyone draw parralels to this old regime you've mentioned."

Sladkor nods and raises his eyebrows as Hinrik indicates huge, mostly unknown areas of land on the map. "We share your concerns about outworlders like these, and we will work to prevent undesirable interactions, intentional or unintentional on their part. Though given that there is a sizable number of the Elect on Sansar, we can pick our allies in doing so. It is possible to protect Sansar without annexing all of the non-Elect nations, or at least it is worth trying. If the Khylokians can be Elect, there are civilized nations among the non-Elect."

The Kanite diplomat doesn't let on if he was offended. He merely looks away for a while, perhaps to mentally note to make a reprisal against Hinrik at a later date.

"I would hardly call the lack of a drive to subjugate others apathy. Everyone has their role to play - and I would be surprised if you told me the elves don't believe this, considering your society is hiearchically structured to such a degree - if the role we're to play is that of pawns, then we shall accept it wholeheartedly and without reservations."

Hinrik simply shrugs. "As they say: the more, the merrier. I'll leave you two to your own business for the time being, but I'd like to make a brief recommendation. Upon reaching the end of the board, no moves left, the pawn's ultimate strength is its adaptability. The humblest of pieces can still be destined for great things, given the right moves. I desire success and strength for every state on Sansar, as long as yours flourishes I feel that we will both be happy men."

The elf holds out his biological hand to the Kanite as an invitation to shake; regardless of the response, he turns to Scorcha to deliver the second farewell. "I wish your father luck with his expedition, and good fortune in all of your endeavors. You are welcome in Verdalfheim at any time, and perhaps we'll have more to discuss at a later date as our situations evolve." He repeats the same handshake offer as with Scorcha and, upon the conclusion of this act, departs from the clique.

@MrHeadcrab
Amidst some lull in the conversation, the double-trio of Durats that comprises the Head Professor/Librarian of Technology is approached by the quiet wheelchair of Hekla dei Fiori, a kindly expression resting upon a face obviously unaccustomed to such pleasure. "Pardon me for contributing to what is no doubt a cacophony at this point, but I must thank you for your role in resolving the recent crisis. Correct me if I'm wrong, but you're a native of Burtzlund, correct? Durat, to be precise?" Her positive demeanor cannot disguise the fact that her questions are entirely rhetorical, there can be absolutely no mistake as to the nature of such a uniquely bizarre collection of life forms. For what it's worth, there is no disdain in the way her gaze passes between the individual Durats, simply the amused curiosity of one reading a novel text. "I must say, you have left me with an extremely favorable first impression of Verdalfheim's eastern neighbors. The rumors of your technological prowess were not overstated."

@DKArthas
Towards the end of the festivities, Hinrik dei Fiori finally decides that it is time to address the trade question. He was more than happy to compromise with adherents to contradictory ideologies in the pursuit of international cooperation, but the hardline revolutionary disposition of the Fomorians seemed like a recipe for rejection. He surveys the sky-blue-clad Cathal Oirbsiu from a far corner of the party for a couple minutes before approaching the Sovereign Protector, working up a dignified smile as he approaches. "Greetings. My name is Hinrik dei Fiori, representative of the Principality of Verdalfheim." He makes an intentional effort to excise all references to lineage and rank from his introduction, presenting himself as a man of office first and foremost. "The festivities appear to be drawing to a close, so I won't waste much time. It has come to my attention that your country possesses impressive reserves of a 'fell iron,' a resource which would be of great interest to my people, while lacking in access to fuel for the engines used in its extraction. Our country is home to great oil reserves, likely the most productive yet discovered on this planet. I feel that there is ground for a natural economic relationship to blossom between our two powers, should you be interested in such a transaction."

[Frostwander]

The queen in black looks over at the arriving pirates, led by their captain in red and chrome. "Well, here's someone who knows how to make an entrance." A short gesture to a nearby functionary - one of the hardier of courage who remained - brings up a display to show what is known regarding the symbol and appearance of this crew. Queen Ebonne takes a brief glance to get the barest idea who she is about to address, but doesn't wait long before approaching, with a stride that leaves the functionary hurrying to keep up.

Her greeting is accompanied by a genuine smile, a hint of pearl-white teeth behind dark-stained lips. "We had not expected this event to be graced by representatives of the Coalition. We are pleased to see otherwise, and must say you certainly draw the eye."

[Rolepgeek]

Nautical Themes

"I don't believe I've had the pleasure of your company before..."

> she's from Caipe Ushere: (Sansar) queendom; her name's one of those long-ass royal ones you won't remember right now anyway but the important bits are Chalise (first name), Ebonne (palace name), or d'Laforét (original family), take your pick
> oh huh so she might be one of the better - well, less bad - queens: married a prince, who died a king, left her in charge
> still from a wine family though so if she isn't drinking she's probably not fun but we both know you're the better judge of that eh?

"...Queen Chalise. You are far too kind to accuse simple pirates of anything so civilized as grace," the captain continues, a wry smile spilling across her face like bloodstained oil as her eyes scan the Queen a second time. "But I have never been one for false modesty, so I will gladly take the compliment. You cut quite the figure yourself, one must admit - it's gratifying to know I did not come overdressed."

The woman smirks as her digital companion informs her of the chatter relayed by the rest of the crews' partners, glancing briefly over before slowly shifting to saunter away from the chill of the entrance, apparently expecting her new royal company to do the same.

"By the stares of my crewmembers I imagine we must make quite a pair, and if my only accomplishment tonight were to be distracting every other attending would-be warlord in Tekhum from getting anything done I would count it quite the night, so if you wouldn't mind continuing to grace us with your company, Lady d'Laforét, I would be much obliged," Meifeng says, turning to slyly wink at her first intercourse partner of the night between scans of the crowd of dignitaries and other assorted ne'erdowells.

[SerakHawk]

That pulled them away. "Dammit! We should have offered our help. We could have been shielding the poor fellow" They told their companion, who responded "But it would have been hard to maintain a mesh-link to the space around them" Quinn nodded gravely. "Still, we must apologize to Illustrated Prime Marcus."

Senior Advisor Quinn quickly summoned all their companions. Offering their aid, they made contact with the table. As others rushed in, the team quickly ensured proper grounding between the table and the device, pushing away any potential stray electrical source. Another confirmed what the Jy.Mar had said, and began mentally monitoring the internal workings to ensure stability. Quinn themselves altered the air pocket under the table, creating a stable pressure differential that reduced the overall weight by roughly 19.43%. Together, they filed out with the bomb, missing the talk among the Senior Diplomats

Later, to the Jy'mar
Quinn approached Illustrated Prime Marcus once again, after all has calmed down. "Your technician was quite brave. And quite skilled. He? is an honor to your people. I hope he is recovering. UNNCLE apologizes for not being able to assist more readily. He? acted so quickly we couldn't offer our EM shielding Prowess." They sighed regretfully.
But quickly moved on. "And I was informed there was a diplomatic... jousting I missed as well. You should feel assured that a threat we in UNNCLE see a threat to one Badalian Aerostat is a potential threat to all aerostats."

Some time after the crisis calmed down Quinn and Marcus found them talking over a drink, fellow Baladian to Baldalian. "Ah, a shame my Team lead did not have time to notice your people's presence, that would have aided Occam on his attempt through the device. I hear he is recovering well, nothing life threatening and with some of the new technologies shared at this convention we may be able to save his tail fully. It is gratifying to see different nations of the Elite all react together, and not just those of us who have to work together to survive."

Taking a sip of some kind of honey flavored drink served by the Arkhive Marcus carries on.

"Speaking of threats to Badal, what say you about our other neighbors - I hear.. and saw.. the entrance of this Black Cloud Coalition Captain, personally they haven't seen like more than petty raiders preying on the weak convoys of Badal. What is your assessment of them? My Console intends to invite them, as well as yourselves, to a showcase of ability in a few years but I am not certain myself."


At Illustrated Prime Marcus' words, the Khylokian delegate seems pleased.

"Eight of my crew died on the journey here, and I consider that a blessing. When death comes easy, it doesn't pay to fret."

She shrugs. "Death is death. All you can do is take what you can before then from those that don't grasp the way things work. Fearing death, running from it, fighting it? What kind of life is that in the first place?"
"Only those who's legacy is guaranteed by their people are afforded the luxury to welcome death. Your security is a credit to your culture. Though, some here do suffer from the fear of death. It would likely benefit diplomatic efforts to avoid terrifying them, unless terror is your goal." The Exalted Pod approaches the Khylokians in high spirits, perhaps even impressed by their audacity.

Marcus nods as the Khylokian delegate responds in the affirmative, and then the follow up by the Exalted Pod.

"Death is death. This is a statement we can get behind as a people, comparing death to a luxury seems.. disrespectful of the sacrifice of the many. No offense to the Exalted Pod, death sometimes is a required sacrifice to ensure the many survive. Welcoming death without reckless abandon when it is required, when the stakes are high is something all people should embrace. It does seem people still fear death as something that can be avoided - I think it is better to embrace that your death is already imminent, then can you not live more in the moment and embrace living fully without the fear of death hanging over you as a specter. I do hope people continue to talk about this demonstration and think critically on how they view life."


There's a rapid series of beeps from the analyser and Padraig draws a deep breath. "OK. So. I think that 'rock one' must be Badal, it's the only thing I can think of that makes sense in context. Assuming I'm right...OK. Coedd agrees that Badal is, errr, I guess you'd say 'vegtetation poor' or something. She...ah, bloody subjunctives...she would send herself to work on your plants but she doesn't think you want Coedd in...what would that be...in your lands. She, oh, this is rare, she wishes you to send representatives to meet with her in the island of Coedd, Coedd-Island. To talk about Coedd on Badal and the Illuminated Utopians in Sansar. To avoid competition - errr, you have to realise Coedd thinks very negatively of competition. By their very nature they like things working in harmony. So that's 'competition' in the sense of 'conflict' really. Yes. She is inviting a delegation. Some time in the next few years."

Prime Marcus nods carefully at Padraig before responding.
"It would be my honor to attend Coedd in her home to discuss further about 'competition' or the boundaries there-in. Our beliefs are centered on the improvement of the individual on their own paths through life, I am not as well informed about Coedd and her majesty so it would be prudent for us to have a cultural exchange. Please let me know of times and places and I will discuss with my Console and the Triumvirate if I am able to attend as a representative.

[Frostwander]

Black and Red
The Usheret queen steps smoothly in pace with the captain. The cavalier remains a respectful distance behind as they begin a lazy circuit around the park. "If we thought you were 'simple' pirates, we wouldn't have bothered. But then, how often does a queen get to have a conversation with a pirate on level footing in a setting such as this, Captain Jié?"

Chalise notes the use of her first name and returns that familiarity in kind with a bemused expression. The latter address retains the smile, but with a deep crease to her brow. She chides softly, dropping the royal pronouns for a fleeting moment, "Please, captain, I haven't been 'Lady d'Laforét' since I was eighteen and wed. I'm now an aged widow with children.

"We must express some curiousity what brings you here. Pirates, of course, enjoy a good party; this is rather a long way to come if there were not something more specific of interest."

[bc56]

Late to the Party
"My calculations indicate..." The dwarf punches several digits into a calculator mounted on his spacesuit bracer, "...we will not be present nearly long enough for humidity to become a threat." That answers one question. "Dr. Horace Thorn. I'm here for the technical exchange." He ejects a drive from his bracer. "As a token of goodwill, this contains blueprints for our fusion drives, as well as some of our history for your vaults."

Fortune Telling
The offer of fortune telling provokes a possibly unexpected response from the dwarven leader. "No. I don't need magic. I get my answers from science." He laughs coldly. "I'm hardly involved in the mining, so I doubt I'll find any ore myself, I most likely won't rule any country, and I have better things to do than waste my time with mystical claptrap."
"Boss... diplomacy?"
"I'm an engineer, not a wizard! What do you want me to do, play along with this farce?"

[Epinephrine_Syn]

Hinrik simply shrugs. "As they say: the more, the merrier. I'll leave you two to your own business for the time being, but I'd like to make a brief recommendation. Upon reaching the end of the board, no moves left, the pawn's ultimate strength is its adaptability. The humblest of pieces can still be destined for great things, given the right moves. I desire success and strength for every state on Sansar, as long as yours flourishes I feel that we will both be happy men."


"Reach the end of the board?" The small girl states in a corner, scooping more food to her mouth, while the delegation of the purifiers sits quietly in a moment of relaxation and listens in on different conversations without current interruption. "Adaptability without movement? Sounds strange, but oddly doable. What's this mean?"

The queen smiles, and rubs her temples. "I'll be honest, I haven't the faintest idea."

Another of their friends chimes in, raising an eyebrow. "I've heard of this, I think. The old scrap salvage from the ancient ones has something installed called Chonkia -" And then she makes a hissing sound, a lot of SSSSssssssssssss. "It's a side function of the elder devices. I admit... I don't know what the devil it has to do with the White delegation."

"Cultural intrigue aside, it's time to do a little more diplomacy work. Excuse me." The woman steps up and out, slinking away from the feast to go find somebody to discuss with.

[Feathersnow]

"Reach the end of the board?" The small girl states in a corner, scooping more food to her mouth, while the delegation of the purifiers sits quietly in a moment of relaxation and listens in on different conversations without current interruption. "Adaptability without movement? Sounds strange, but oddly doable. What's this mean?"

The queen smiles, and rubs her temples. "I'll be honest, I haven't the faintest idea."

Another of their friends chimes in, raising an eyebrow. "I've heard of this, I think. The old scrap salvage from the ancient ones has something installed called Chonkia -" And then she makes a hissing sound, a lot of SSSSssssssssssss. "It's a side function of the elder devices. I admit... I don't know what the devil it has to do with the White delegation."

"Cultural intrigue aside, it's time to do a little more diplomacy work. Excuse me." The woman steps up and out, slinking away from the feast to go find somebody to discuss with.


The Glic Delegation, realizing they should make more diplomatic overtures, if only to disguise their nascent pact with the Biarbu a little longer, sends their Herald to the strange little girl. Humans live shorter lives than Glix, but, paradoxically, take longer to mature than Workers, almost as long as Queens. The Glix, therefore, have trouble parsing the presence of an immature Human, and choose to ignore her youth.

"She who is called The Hammer sends her greetings. It is interesting you discuss the idea of Adaptation Without Motion, for that is the key to Lepkashramov, the sculpting of scars in reality through the use of metal."

[Epinephrine_Syn]

The Glic Delegation, realizing they should make more diplomatic overtures, if only to disguise their nascent pact with the Biarbu a little longer, sends their Herald to the strange little girl. Humans live shorter lives than Glix, but, paradoxically, take longer to mature than Workers, almost as long as Queens. The Glix, therefore, have trouble parsing the presence of an immature Human, and choose to ignore her youth.

"She who is called The Hammer sends her greetings. It is interesting you discuss the idea of Adaptation Without Motion, for that is the key to Lepkashramov, the sculpting of scars in reality through the use of metal."

The little girl in the gender duality clothes looked up with mild curiosity, and then stronger fascination as the herald speaks. The other taller person, meanwhile, looks down and smirks with a slight comment. "Heh. You think we should tell Serenity that the Ham-" "Ssh~ This one understands." "... what?"

The little girl wears this wide grin, climbing up onto the table to stand on it, able to get full eye to eye height this way even if it does look a little absurd. "Yes, the power of gears and architects. Things anchored to reality, works that warp the world. Fascinating. Is the Hammer with you, either in immediate proximity or at the meeting? It's a pleasure regardless."

[Feathersnow]

The little girl in the gender duality clothes looked up with mild curiosity, and then stronger fascination as the herald speaks. The other taller person, meanwhile, looks down and smirks with a slight comment. "Heh. You think we should tell Serenity that the Ham-" "Ssh~ This one understands." "... what?"

The little girl wears this wide grin, climbing up onto the table to stand on it, able to get full eye to eye height this way even if it does look a little absurd. "Yes, the power of gears and architects. Things anchored to reality, works that warp the world. Fascinating. Is the Hammer with you, either in immediate proximity or at the meeting? It's a pleasure regardless."


The Herald reduces his hovering to meet the girl eye-to-eye. Even the small human is bigger than him, almost as much as an adult human smaller than a Queen. "The Hammer is the title of our Queen, for she is a mighty telekinetic. She is with our delegation, but she is also in my mind. That is what a Herald does, he goes places for Queens and lets them use his senses and voice."

[Epinephrine_Syn]

The Herald reduces his hovering to meet the girl eye-to-eye. Even the small human is bigger than him, almost as much as an adult human smaller than a Queen. "The Hammer is the title of our Queen, for she is a mighty telekinetic. She is with our delegation, but she is also in my mind. That is what a Herald does, he goes places for Queens and lets them use his senses and voice."

"... like a hivemind? But yes, it is nice to speak to her too, hello." The girl is cheerful, and gives a wave. "Is there anything specific, business wise or just plain fun chatter you'd like to discuss? Negotiations can often start with the simplest of sparks. ... also, how big a telekinetic are we talking? Hammer metal? Crack mountains? You mentioned metal shaping... scarring... hm. Is scarring a specific technique?"

[Feathersnow]

"... like a hivemind? But yes, it is nice to speak to her too, hello." The girl is cheerful, and gives a wave. "Is there anything specific, business wise or just plain fun chatter you'd like to discuss? Negotiations can often start with the simplest of sparks. ... also, how big a telekinetic are we talking? Hammer metal? Crack mountains? You mentioned metal shaping... scarring... hm. Is scarring a specific technique?"

The Herald looks shocked. Oh, no! We are all of us individuals. We would be willing to talk business, we have interests in expanding trade in a few years. In seven years, more Queens will be born, and they will need new Basilica Ships to live in and new farms to support the Workers they will one day give birth to.

As for her unique capabilities, she has cracked stones the size of mountains, for she is great. Most Queens and virtually no Workers have her gift. Admittedly, her gifts can be replicated by lepkashramov. That is our unique science, one we are sharing with the Arkhive. A sculpture of two kinds of metal can be used to wound reality to make something new true in a field around it. A supple mind can then guide it usefully. Anyone can use an Lepkashramov Ikon, at least a modern one, but the earliest took telepathy or touch to activate, and that isn't always safe or marketable. So we now package exports with a companion piece that lets any user guide the main Ikon."

[Corona]

It occurred to Senior Advisor that they had completely forgotten about the young Priestess until started sending her adjutants to drum up business. The Kanites were on the list of high-value contacts given to them by the Board. Human, or nearly so. Hairless, whether by choice or happenstance, and cranial plates. Could they possess a form of naturally occuring biomesh? what little is known about their history and Faith indicate some evidence of either branching or co-evolution.

Waiting in line patiently She greeted the younger woman "Greetings, Priestess Tanchitsa. I am Senior Advisor Quinn Emery Kai Rene of The United Neural Networks Confounding Limitless Exigency, commonly referred to as UNNCLE. I have a great interest in what your abilities" the advisore made a cutting motion in the air at the word. Their voice took on a brief harmonic across 3 full octaves. "make of myself and ours."


The priestess shoves her plate aside gently and has the purple pillow with the wooden box put in its place. "Gladly, I will divine the your fate."

She makes deliberate circling motions over the box, then raises it to her brow and to the heavens, all the while chanting rhytmic syllables: "Kush-taa, vaa min, kush-taa..." Her attendants join her - quietly so that their voices meld into hers and reinforce it, rather than overwhelming it. They also play simple, ancient three-stringed kotos and jingles. She claps with two fingers curled, sprinkles some salt on the top of the box. The box then, as if it knew the right time to do so, vibrates nine times, destroying and creating patterns in the salt. When the box finishes, Tanchitsa peers closely at the salt grains, careful not to disturb them. She looks up and tells Quinn in a solemn voice: "Hear the will of heaven: You will wander among the stars, never quite managing to settle down. This is both a curse and a blessing; you will be the first to stumble into an unknown recess of Tekhum. Bring a single loyal companion, for only with help you can overcome the dangers awaiting you.""

She pauses, unsure if she should reveal more, but Quinn seems to be good-humored, so she continues. "There is another matter that your inquiry did not pertain to, but I shall tell you regardless, as it is my primary duty: you are not eligible to lead Kan. I'm certain we will have friendly relations with UNNCLE all the same, and UNNCLE can apply with another candidate if desired.

[Lt-Murgen]

Badalian Banter


"Speaking of threats to Badal, what say you about our other neighbors - I hear.. and saw.. the entrance of this Black Cloud Coalition Captain, personally they haven't seen like more than petty raiders preying on the weak convoys of Badal. What is your assessment of them? My Console intends to invite them, as well as yourselves, to a showcase of ability in a few years but I am not certain myself."
Quinn took a sip of... something. They had stopped paying attention some time ago. "Pirates and raiders have been a minor problem for ages. Another group organizing under some brute with delusions of grandeur is not surprising." They leaned in a little closer, lowering their tone. A complicated series of gestures with their hands, and the background noise of the banquet faded away, leaving a dull, persistent hum. "What is surprising is the Emperor's choice to make them Exalted. Our External Affairs Department is speculating that the Coalition will be used to weaken the rest of us. So we will turn to the Empire for direct, and costly, aid. "


Divination with Presentation!

T
She pauses, unsure if she should reveal more, but Quinn seems to be good-humored, so she continues. "There is another matter that your inquiry did not pertain to, but I shall tell you regardless, as it is my primary duty: you are not eligible to lead Kan. I'm certain we will have friendly relations with UNNCLE all the same, and UNNCLE can apply with another candidate if desired.


Quinn smiled. The nature of the fortune telling was clear to them. Simple sociological assessments disguised as mentalism. It is almost a shame, they had been hoping for some indication of probabilistic sensitivity. THAT would be a find. She nodded politely. "I thank you for your divination, Priestess. I will consider your words most carefully. Fortunately for me, my path is not one of leadership, but of Prowess. My position as Senior Advisor is my duty to the Board. Uplifting my Prowess is my life-long goal."

[Lumaeus]

MIDROUND SUMMARY
APIS Midround Summary

Gifted techs:
ARK (Host): Xenolinguistics
BAF: Nuclear Fusion
BCC: Badalian Megadirigibles and Algorithmic Imagination
BRB: Algorithmic Imagination
CER: Arcane Amplification
CUS: Arcane Amplification
DIC: Nuclear Fusion
ELD: In Vivo Modification
ETH: Arcane Amplification
GCC: Arcane Amplification
ILU: Aclaustrophobic Psychiatry
KRB: Nuke Fusion
LSP: Arcane Amplification
RAT: Aclaustrophobic Psychiatry
TEA: In Vivo Modification
UHS: In Vivo Modification


(Note: UNC does not share their Arcane Amplification, but does indicate that it may do so with coreligionists in the future)

Explicit Acceptance of Nonaggression (and thus Membership). You are all held to have library cards and the Arkhive Will Not be able to act against you:
BAF (Visiting)
ELD (Local)
ILU (Visiting)
WTP (Local)
LSP (Visiting)
UNC (Visiting)

Note: This kinda deal will also apply to:
COE
despite not actually having a deal with them. It's goddess stuff.


Unsubmitted Works:
I ignored action fluff for the most part, but consider if you have any you're proud of and can easily convert.
BAF: Untitled Mytho-Historical Date Gathering text
COE: So much writing, but not submitted in any particular categories (yet). I know I have to dig up your sacred site description and publish it and credit it somehow.
ELD: A Sealga's Guide isn't out yet
GCC: Untitled Mytho-Historical Date Gathering text
GLO: What We're Telling Them Zelfs Are
RRE: News&Rumors section is a solid modern history

TOTALS:
BCC 7 (4 tech + 1 Literature + 1 Theology +1 Pilgrim)
ILU 6 (2 tech + 1 Literature + 1 History + 1 Theological + 1 Researcher)
LSP 6 (2 tech + 1 Literature + 1 History + 1 Philisophy + 1 Pilgrim)
ELD 5 (2 tech + 1 Literature + 1 Mythology + 1 Influx)
GCC 3 (2 tech + 1 history)
BAF 2 (2 tech)
BRB 2 (2 tech)
CER 2 (2 tech)
CUS 2 (2 tech)
DIC 2 (2 tech)
ETH 2 (2 tech)
KRB 2 (2 tech)
TEA 2 (2 tech)
UHS 2 (2 tech)
RAT 2 (2 tech)




”Ah. I suppose we could have played hard to get, Your Majesty—but, such a thing would be against our interests, as fun as it might have been. One of the Alliance’s many goals has always been that of furthering our people through the pursuit of science.. Both metaphorically, and literally. How aggressively twee it would be to hold back now.” She chuckled, and seemed to weigh the proposal for a moment.

”Excitement is what we hoped for, Your Majesty. Polyphemus is more than welcome. If he could give a list of accommodations that would be required to make his stay comfortable, we will gladly oblige within reason. I would also ask that any assistants or peers are limited to a smaller team. My civil engineers can run the exact numbers based on your needs and available space.”


The queen smiles. "I hope this can lead to a close alliance between our peoples. I believe Polyphemus is prepared to come alone, but I'll see to it that all relevant information is made available to you as quickly as possible.


Coalition captain Jie Meifeng - the only one to have left her coat unadorned save for the Skull, Sky, and Stars of the Coalition spray-painted across the back - took off the heavy synthetic wool and pseudo-leather garment as she entered the building, revealing the provocative scarlet dress she wore beneath - and the gleaming, articulated chrome muscle-plating stretching across almost her entire upper torso, including both arms, and slit up the left flank to better display the fully artificial leg on that side. The dull glow of golden bleedtats splaying out from ZhiZhi's hardcase at the base of her skull only reinforced the effect as she stretched out the artificial muscles (how was it that they still got sore, anyway?). It had been her brother's idea to show off like this.

After all - who needed armor with a body like this?

The Queen of the Arkhive, Constance of Comment the First, hurries to greet the captain as soon as possible. She smiles widely, hoping against hope that this, of all her diplomacy tonight, produces peace.

"Captain! It is a true honor to play host to your noble delegation sent across the great void. You honor us to visit our conference, and we hope you can eat heartily, drink deeply, and enjoy the technological wonders we have all worked together to bring together. I hope your journey was pleasant?"

[Epinephrine_Syn]

The Herald looks shocked. Oh, no! We are all of us individuals. We would be willing to talk business, we have interests in expanding trade in a few years. In seven years, more Queens will be born, and they will need new Basilica Ships to live in and new farms to support the Workers they will one day give birth to.

As for her unique capabilities, she has cracked stones the size of mountains, for she is great. Most Queens and virtually no Workers have her gift. Admittedly, her gifts can be replicated by lepkashramov. That is our unique science, one we are sharing with the Arkhive. A sculpture of two kinds of metal can be used to wound reality to make something new true in a field around it. A supple mind can then guide it usefully. Anyone can use an Lepkashramov Ikon, at least a modern one, but the earliest took telepathy or touch to activate, and that isn't always safe or marketable. So we now package exports with a companion piece that lets any user guide the main Ikon."

The little girl was nodding furiously, and some part through she had started to pull something out of her pocket. The older one, able to stand at the same height but not on the table, grabbed her wrist, shaking her head, making Titania seem very confused. Still, she listened to the technology and sounded cheerful afterwards.

"I quite look forwards to seeing the full force of it in action. Sounds incredibly useful on both counts. I'll have to eventually get some of those telekinetic ions for projects back home." "Now you said you were willing to talk business, I'm curious what you had in mind. The beginnings of your approach sound either like you had previously contacted Serenity or that you had a specific deal in mind."

The smaller girls mental orientation shifts, staring at her friend, but then breaking out into a soft grin. "That's right. No pressure if not, but my curiosity grows."

[Feathersnow]

The little girl was nodding furiously, and some part through she had started to pull something out of her pocket. The older one, able to stand at the same height but not on the table, grabbed her wrist, shaking her head, making Titania seem very confused. Still, she listened to the technology and sounded cheerful afterwards.

"I quite look forwards to seeing the full force of it in action. Sounds incredibly useful on both counts. I'll have to eventually get some of those telekinetic ions for projects back home." "Now you said you were willing to talk business, I'm curious what you had in mind. The beginnings of your approach sound either like you had previously contacted Serenity or that you had a specific deal in mind."

The smaller girls mental orientation shifts, staring at her friend, but then breaking out into a soft grin. "That's right. No pressure if not, but my curiosity grows."

If you would be interested in such machines, we are willing to put in a word to our Teivosk to accept your merchants, if you would grant us the same courtesy if Glic Merchants come to buy at your markets. If you are interested in more, I'm sure it could be arranged...

But, we confess, we had no specific intentions or knowledge of your people before now. You seem... differentfrom the other humans, but that msy be my imagination.

I am willing to support all buyouts of open TPs in regions we have merchant control by you for the same courtesy. Not sure what your growth plans are. If you aren't planning to go big into Econ, I might be willing to help provide you with desired imports in exchange for a mutual vengeance pact. If you are planning to go deep into Econ, the initial offer will be valuable by itself, in time, hopefully.

a vengeance pact is a promise to provide troops for a retaliatory strike against the capitol of anyone who attacks your capitol. Snimt'Glek's doctrine is that he, in extremis, will forgo a traditional defense in favor of Mutually Assured Destruction.

[Epinephrine_Syn]

If you would be interested in such machines, we are willing to put in a word to our Teivosk to accept your merchants, if you would grant us the same courtesy if Glic Merchants come to buy at your markets. If you are interested in more, I'm sure it could be arranged...

But, we confess, we had no specific intentions or knowledge of your people before now. You seem... differentfrom the other humans, but that msy be my imagination.

I am willing to support all buyouts of open TPs in regions we have merchant control by you for the same courtesy. Not sure what your growth plans are. If you aren't planning to go big into Econ, I might be willing to help provide you with desired imports in exchange for a mutual vengeance pact. If you are planning to go deep into Econ, the initial offer will be valuable by itself, in time, hopefully.

a vengeance pact is a promise to provide troops for a retaliatory strike against the capitol of anyone who attacks your capitol. Snimt'Glek's doctrine is that he, in extremis, will forgo a traditional defense in favor of Mutually Assured Destruction.

Indeed, they had not. But I intended to discuss things in brief with them, given they showed up at the event.

The taller woman walked over, golden locks, in her elegant dress. For all that's happened tonight, she looks well and pristine. Really all of them look enough like people to be mistaken for such, and Serenity most of all. "Though I would have appreciated you telling me they had already contacted you, Holly." She exhales a sigh, wearing a wider smile. "I would be glad to arrange some agreements, in small or large. We have much to discuss, though some specifics of said agreements depend on which textualist beliefs are held. You're right in that we are different in some important ways, oh, excuse me, I'm off my game."

She gives a small head bow and curtsey, the glitter floating around her body. "You may call me Serenity."

I currently don't plan to go big on eco, but I might. The initial deal will probably be fine though I may not use it mechanically, fluff wise it will probably be good, though. Help getting Desired Imports is technically something I need, even if I currently plan to go predominantly Coercion for such things, which may be tricker to 'mechanically' get help for. I guess a Trade Route is an option there? Vengance Pact (where we promise some retaliation) if capitals are invaded can work, defensive stuff is good.

[Corona]

Of Prowess




Quinn smiled. The nature of the fortune telling was clear to them. Simple sociological assessments disguised as mentalism. It is almost a shame, they had been hoping for some indication of probabilistic sensitivity. THAT would be a find. She nodded politely. "I thank you for your divination, Priestess. I will consider your words most carefully. Fortunately for me, my path is not one of leadership, but of Prowess. My position as Senior Advisor is my duty to the Board. Uplifting my Prowess is my life-long goal."

The rejection (if intended as a rejection at all) is so soft that Tanchitsa doesn't notice it. She perks up when she hears a term she previously only read about in e-books.
"Ah, I've heard of Prowess... it is a sort of training to develop one's capabilities, right? My people are probably different, they mostly like to train physically by hunting and gladiatorial fights."

Short Statured Sceptics




Fortune Telling
The offer of fortune telling provokes a possibly unexpected response from the dwarven leader. "No. I don't need magic. I get my answers from science." He laughs coldly. "I'm hardly involved in the mining, so I doubt I'll find any ore myself, I most likely won't rule any country, and I have better things to do than waste my time with mystical claptrap."
"Boss... diplomacy?"
"I'm an engineer, not a wizard! What do you want me to do, play along with this farce?"

Turning to the dwarves, Tanchitsa crosses her arms and turns her chin up. "Humbug and witchcraft, you say. Only your foreignness excuses your ignorance. This is no magic - no magic at all is carried out by the state officials or upstanding citizens of Kan. I am just... this box is the receiver for signals from Ophon, which I decode, if you want it in technical terms. I've made a demonstration of but a fraction of my craft here with Senior Advisor Quinn, hopefully you've seen it. But suit yourself, I have no need for converts."

[Stygian]

Quinn took a sip of... something. They had stopped paying attention some time ago. "Pirates and raiders have been a minor problem for ages. Another group organizing under some brute with delusions of grandeur is not surprising." They leaned in a little closer, lowering their tone. A complicated series of gestures with their hands, and the background noise of the banquet faded away, leaving a dull, persistent hum. "What is surprising is the Emperor's choice to make them Exalted. Our External Affairs Department is speculating that the Coalition will be used to weaken the rest of us. So we will turn to the Empire for direct, and costly, aid. "


Divination with Presentation!


Quinn smiled. The nature of the fortune telling was clear to them. Simple sociological assessments disguised as mentalism. It is almost a shame, they had been hoping for some indication of probabilistic sensitivity. THAT would be a find. She nodded politely. "I thank you for your divination, Priestess. I will consider your words most carefully. Fortunately for me, my path is not one of leadership, but of Prowess. My position as Senior Advisor is my duty to the Board. Uplifting my Prowess is my life-long goal."



Some time after the crisis calmed down Quinn and Marcus found them talking over a drink, fellow Baladian to Baldalian. "Ah, a shame my Team lead did not have time to notice your people's presence, that would have aided Occam on his attempt through the device. I hear he is recovering well, nothing life threatening and with some of the new technologies shared at this convention we may be able to save his tail fully. It is gratifying to see different nations of the Elite all react together, and not just those of us who have to work together to survive."

Taking a sip of some kind of honey flavored drink served by the Arkhive Marcus carries on.

"Speaking of threats to Badal, what say you about our other neighbors - I hear.. and saw.. the entrance of this Black Cloud Coalition Captain, personally they haven't seen like more than petty raiders preying on the weak convoys of Badal. What is your assessment of them? My Console intends to invite them, as well as yourselves, to a showcase of ability in a few years but I am not certain myself."


The queen smiles. "I hope this can lead to a close alliance between our peoples. I believe Polyphemus is prepared to come alone, but I'll see to it that all relevant information is made available to you as quickly as possible.


"Of course, Your Majesty. Since I have heard whispers of other such pledges, let it be known that the Eucrus Alliance will take no actions to harm the standing of the Arkhive. I have monopolized enough of your time, however." Noting the sudden density of their Badalian neighbors at the Banquet, Navarch Tuahine excuses herself from the small crowd that occupies Queen Constance--including none other than Meifeng.

Tuahine approaches Quinn and Marcus next, waiting for a break in the conversation to slide in amidst her fellow ambassadors. "Prime Marcus. Your technicians were quick and admirable in their performance. I apologize for the candor of my staff.. Youthful ignorance at its finest. Senior Advisor--I am ... surprised to see the man from U.N.N.C.L.E in attendance here. Surprised, and pleased, given your people's singular focus. Perhaps we were all anxious to get off our sulfurous patch of paradise to greener pastures." She jokes and takes a long swig of a drink she had procured along the way... a drink not yet strong enough to deal with the likes of the Coalition. "I see neither of you have been in a rush to meet with the Little Queen."

4 (Gifting In Vivo Modification + Megadirigibles [to the Arkhive only]--might as well, since others are doing it)
Explicit Acceptance of Non-Aggression

[MrHeadcrab]

Marcus nods as the Khylokian delegate responds in the affirmative, and then the follow up by the Exalted Pod.

"Death is death. This is a statement we can get behind as a people, comparing death to a luxury seems.. disrespectful of the sacrifice of the many. No offense to the Exalted Pod, death sometimes is a required sacrifice to ensure the many survive. Welcoming death without reckless abandon when it is required, when the stakes are high is something all people should embrace. It does seem people still fear death as something that can be avoided - I think it is better to embrace that your death is already imminent, then can you not live more in the moment and embrace living fully without the fear of death hanging over you as a specter. I do hope people continue to talk about this demonstration and think critically on how they view life."
"I fear there may have been a misunderstanding. I mean not to call death itself a luxury, I call it a luxury to live without fear of death - to welcome it when it comes. Indeed, a people can only exist outside of the fear of death if they believe in their people and their legacy. To live outside of death's fear speaks to a selflessness and sense of purpose.

From your words, I believe we are in agreement. To lose life without cause is tragedy, but to face a noble doom is admirable. The mindset of the Khylokians is different than ours, but it is impressive in its way."

Amidst some lull in the conversation, the double-trio of Durats that comprises the Head Professor/Librarian of Technology is approached by the quiet wheelchair of Hekla dei Fiori, a kindly expression resting upon a face obviously unaccustomed to such pleasure. "Pardon me for contributing to what is no doubt a cacophony at this point, but I must thank you for your role in resolving the recent crisis. Correct me if I'm wrong, but you're a native of Burtzlund, correct? Durat, to be precise?" Her positive demeanor cannot disguise the fact that her questions are entirely rhetorical, there can be absolutely no mistake as to the nature of such a uniquely bizarre collection of life forms. For what it's worth, there is no disdain in the way her gaze passes between the individual Durats, simply the amused curiosity of one reading a novel text. "I must say, you have left me with an extremely favorable first impression of Verdalfheim's eastern neighbors. The rumors of your technological prowess were not overstated."
The six heads snap towards Hekla dei Fiori, they seem momentarily flustered before gathering themselves, "Ah, I'm honored. And I am indeed Durat. Specifically, I am a pod made of six individual Durats. You will have to forgive me, the trade was only recently finished, meaning that I have only recently been formed. It takes a moment to gather and figure myself out."
Periodically throughout the sentence, various Durats in the pod speak up, until it eventually settles on one, the pod's new speaker. "Oh, I suppose context is important! Every three years, the Head Professor of the Coastaphornia University and the Arkhive Librarian of Technology briefly join, before separating again into two different pods, with new Durat combinations. This allows us to fundamentally understand the research and study occurring between the neighboring schools." The Durats look contemplative for but a moment. "I think I'll be the Coastaphornia Headmaster."
"Anyway!- I've spoken far to much of myself. I can speak for The University and one-seventh of the Exaulted Pod when I say that we are excited to collaborate with you, dear neighbors. And we are delighted to have left a positive impression. Your growing armies and powerful leaders have already left a powerful impression, one which we're excited to work with! The foundations of the universe are at our fingertips, and all of Tekhum is trembling at the coming change. We hope that your might may be a foundation upon which we can build marvels. At some point I'm sure the Exalted Pod itself will also wish to converse with you!" (as fluff or just assumed to have happened depending on your preference)


At a later time:
As things settle back down and the Elect Parties return to their eating and consorting, The Exalted Pod shuffles over to the stage. Finding a podium, the Great Wisers hop atop each other into a neat little stack, upon which The Speaker Supreme stands just above the podium. Not unlike a pile of well-coordinated cheerleaders--if cheerleaders were woodchucks.
"Greetings to our fellow elect! Those once far, now made near by the miracle of technology! We, the Durats of Burtzlund are excited to announce the formation of the Solar Trade Center! The Solar Trade Center is a conglomerate of trading routes connecting all regions and planets of Tekhum, all centered on the very Firmament here on Sansar. We humbly would request The Honored Elect's collaboration to build trade routes to Burtzlund and Region 110 on The Firmament and in return you can trade treasure, artifacts, and technology through the trading post with all other connected Elect. Additionally, you will have access to other to several other additional provided perks. There is much to say, so please read the associated pamphlet that my assistants are providing."
Several goggles-wearing Durats run throughout the elect dispensing elegant pamphlets, their contents can be read on the Durat IC post. "I hope you're as excited about the new opportunity lying in the Solar Trade Center as we are! We're excited to work with you and bring all the regions of Tekhum together!"


At a different later time:
At some point during the revelry, the Exalted Pod makes its way to Kanite Ambassador Ian Sladkor. "Greetings and well met, I have been hoping to speak with you. Your broadcast and services have captured my interest. Do tell, are you interested in joining the Solar Trade Center? I expect it would do a great deal in assisting accessibility to your impressive capabilities."

[farothel]

After talking with other delegates, count Choraria went back to the hosts. Not necessarily the queen, but one of the hangers on who could do some of the minor dealings. He needed quarters for the group that was coming over and he wanted to introduce the lead scientist of the group of technician, Aishah Yaakop, senior researcher in Fusion technology at the University of Voletha. There had been some discussions in the research groups at the university and also among politicians and in the end Dr. Yaakop was chosen to go. She had arrived on Sansar a day after the other delegation had arrived and was now ready to be introduced to her new hosts.

[Lt-Murgen]

An Explanation of Prowess

Of Prowess
The rejection (if intended as a rejection at all) is so soft that Tanchitsa doesn't notice it. She perks up when she hears a term she previously only read about in e-books.
"Ah, I've heard of Prowess... it is a sort of training to develop one's capabilities, right? My people are probably different, they mostly like to train physically by hunting and gladiatorial fights."

Physical conditioning is the first part. The Kinfolk train from an early age to constantly push past their physical and mental limitations. One of most revered sites contains the lists of feats of Prowess, and the biography of the recordholder. You should make a trip to the Center of Human Prowess. It is inspiring.
I've been training my whole life to go without breathing, hut I am nowhere near the record of just under 48 minutes. And I still struggle to instinctively solve any tri-variable non-linear differential equation.

But beyond the one-body abilities, we develop external abilities called two-body Prowess. There are three general disciplines. I am from the Boyelian school- allowing me to control volume, temperature, and mixture of the environment. For example," They made a series of gestures with their eyes closed, and their tattoos and biomesh glowed. The sounds of the Banquet faded, and then disappeared. "It is a simple application of volumetric manipulation to create a barrier that dis-harmonizes the pressure waves of audible sound.


More Badalian banter

"

Tuahine approaches Quinn and Marcus next, waiting for a break in the conversation to slide in amidst her fellow ambassadors. [color=#173881][b]"Prime Marcus. Your technicians were quick and admirable in their performance. I apologize for the candor of my staff.. Youthful ignorance at its finest. Senior Advisor--I am ... surprised to see the man from U.N.N.C.L.E in attendance here. Surprised, and pleased, given your people's singular focus. Perhaps we were all anxious to get off our sulfurous patch of paradise to greener pastures." She jokes and takes a long swig of a drink she had procured along the way... a drink not yet strong enough to deal with the likes of the Coalition. "I see neither of you have been in a rush to meet with the Little Queen."

Quinn ignored the mis-gendering from the crab-person. Kinfolk tend towards androgyny, and without hair it can be even more difficult for other humans to discern. Crustacean-folk would be a a significant disadvantage. 'We arrived well before you did, and made our presence to the Queen known. Non-aggression is a simple thing to agree to.'

Quinn gazed upward into the large crustacean's eyestalks. "It is the hope of the Board that the Emperor is promoting a period of knowledge sharing, technological growth, and innovation. But the... choices of Exalted have our Board concerned. Military development is one thing, building intra-stellar navies is quite another."

[Stygian]

Quinn ignored the mis-gendering from the crab-person. Kinfolk tend towards androgyny, and without hair it can be even more difficult for other humans to discern. Crustacean-folk would be a a significant disadvantage. 'We arrived well before you did, and made our presence to the Queen known. Non-aggression is a simple thing to agree to.'

Quinn gazed upward into the large crustacean's eyestalks. "It is the hope of the Board that the Emperor is promoting a period of knowledge sharing, technological growth, and innovation. But the... choices of Exalted have our Board concerned. Military development is one thing, building intra-stellar navies is quite another."

[Slight OOC note: The kanmarra don't have eyestalks--they do have more humanoid facial structure and torso--aside from some slight doming of the head, chitin, etc. They may heavily resemble crustaceans now, but they started at a human base, long, long ago. :P ]

Tuahine gave a sort of half-shrug in response to the Senior Advisor's words. "A simple thing, and yet we've already experienced unhinged delegates bringing unstable reactors to a meeting of the minds." She tapped her forehead with a sly sort of smile. "...Perhaps humor is not my strong suit. I was referring to Captain Meifeng--who likely views herself already as the queen of all she sees. I share your concern, despite being one of the self-same powers you refer to. First and foremost, we wish to protect our people and their interests. If that means that we must establish forward bases to ward off foreign powers from entering the Badalian atmosphere--well, the Alliance prays that it will happen with a minimum of bloodshed. None desire a Second War of Eternal Bombardments."

[SerakHawk]

[Slight OOC note: The kanmarra don't have eyestalks--they do have more humanoid facial structure and torso--aside from some slight doming of the head, chitin, etc. They may heavily resemble crustaceans now, but they started at a human base, long, long ago. :P ]

Tuahine gave a sort of half-shrug in response to the Senior Advisor's words. "A simple thing, and yet we've already experienced unhinged delegates bringing unstable reactors to a meeting of the minds." She tapped her forehead with a sly sort of smile. "...Perhaps humor is not my strong suit. I was referring to Captain Meifeng--who likely views herself already as the queen of all she sees. I share your concern, despite being one of the self-same powers you refer to. First and foremost, we wish to protect our people and their interests. If that means that we must establish forward bases to ward off foreign powers from entering the Badalian atmosphere--well, the Alliance prays that it will happen with a minimum of bloodshed. None desire a Second War of Eternal Bombardments."

"None Desire it, yet I wonder if it is fated to happen with the opening of the system once again. I dare not question the Emperor's will and judgement, but we do not have records of what led to the War in the first place - This makes it hard to avoid a second by accident."

Marcus swirls his drink as the group continues chatting

Amending technology gift to include Badalian Mega-dirigibles to Arkhive only

[moossabi]

@MrHeadcrab

The six heads snap towards Hekla dei Fiori, they seem momentarily flustered before gathering themselves, "Ah, I'm honored. And I am indeed Durat. Specifically, I am a pod made of six individual Durats. You will have to forgive me, the trade was only recently finished, meaning that I have only recently been formed. It takes a moment to gather and figure myself out."
Periodically throughout the sentence, various Durats in the pod speak up, until it eventually settles on one, the pod's new speaker. "Oh, I suppose context is important! Every three years, the Head Professor of the Coastaphornia University and the Arkhive Librarian of Technology briefly join, before separating again into two different pods, with new Durat combinations. This allows us to fundamentally understand the research and study occurring between the neighboring schools." The Durats look contemplative for but a moment. "I think I'll be the Coastaphornia Headmaster."
"Anyway!- I've spoken far to much of myself. I can speak for The University and one-seventh of the Exaulted Pod when I say that we are excited to collaborate with you, dear neighbors. And we are delighted to have left a positive impression. Your growing armies and powerful leaders have already left a powerful impression, one which we're excited to work with! The foundations of the universe are at our fingertips, and all of Tekhum is trembling at the coming change. We hope that your might may be a foundation upon which we can build marvels. At some point I'm sure the Exalted Pod itself will also wish to converse with you!" (as fluff or just assumed to have happened depending on your preference)

"A wise practice, and one which avoids the pitfalls of miscommunication." A brief chuckle escapes her mouth as she wistfully lowers her gaze. "If only my siblings could be so in-sync..." Her head shakes, hand brushing back her stark white hair as she looks back up. "Apologies, nostalgia often gets the better of me. Such a conversation would be greatly opportune for both our peoples, and I shall do my best to place your Exalted Pod in touch with our Chancellor. I would not be so pretentious as to aspire to universe-shaking, but we could still easily work wonders together."

[Lt-Murgen]

[Slight OOC note: The kanmarra don't have eyestalks--they do have more humanoid facial structure and torso--aside from some slight doming of the head, chitin, etc. They may heavily resemble crustaceans now, but they started at a human base, long, long ago. :P ]

Tuahine gave a sort of half-shrug in response to the Senior Advisor's words. "A simple thing, and yet we've already experienced unhinged delegates bringing unstable reactors to a meeting of the minds." She tapped her forehead with a sly sort of smile. "...Perhaps humor is not my strong suit. I was referring to Captain Meifeng--who likely views herself already as the queen of all she sees. I share your concern, despite being one of the self-same powers you refer to. First and foremost, we wish to protect our people and their interests. If that means that we must establish forward bases to ward off foreign powers from entering the Badalian atmosphere--well, the Alliance prays that it will happen with a minimum of bloodshed. None desire a Second War of Eternal Bombardments."

"Perhaps an interest to keep Badal for Badalians is something that can be developed. Even Captain Meifeng might be persuaded to see the benefits to some form of alliance against exo-planetary governments.