Empire 8: Arkhive Banquet

[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]

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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.

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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."

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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.

Spoiler: OoC

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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

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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

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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

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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]

Spoiler

Show

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.

Spoiler: OoC

Show

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]

Spoiler

Show

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?"

Spoiler

Show

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

Spoiler: Ah, Youth.

Show

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

Spoiler: There Is A Bomb Now

Show

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.

Spoiler: OoC

Show

Giving Nuclear Fusion to all attendees.

Spoiler: Very Reasonable Questions That Won't Get Answered

Show

"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."

Spoiler: An Elf Reacts Very Reasonably To A Bomb

Show

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?”

Spoiler: A Smallish Child Reacts Much Less Reasonably To The Same Bomb

Show

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.

Spoiler: A Ticking Bomb?

Show

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]

Spoiler: Fusion drive bomb

Show

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.

Spoiler: OoC

Show

Giving Nuclear Fusion to all attendees.

Spoiler: Examining the BOMB

Show

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.

---

Spoiler: Carving up Sansar

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[QUOTE=Volthawk;25955661]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.

---

Spoiler: Phytosomethingguy

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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]

Spoiler: Quote: JBarca - "A bomb!" "NO!"

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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.

Spoiler: Quote: Lumaeus - A call for engineers to deal with the fusion drive

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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."

Spoiler: Quote: SerakHawk - Dealing with the problem

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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.

Spoiler: Quote: JBarca - Gloating about their normalized lack of safety standards

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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]

Spoiler: The Ratvengers Arrive

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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."

Spoiler: Occam's Razor

Show

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

Spoiler: A Call for Disposable Spacecraft

Show

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]

Spoiler: Fiefel Goes Nuclear?

Show

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."

Spoiler: Occam's Razor

Show

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

Spoiler: A Call for Disposable Spacecraft

Show

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.”

Spoiler: A Tough Crowd..

Show

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.

Spoiler: That’s Telekinesis, Kyle!

Show

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.”