While James attended his duties a lone woman who stood apart from the rest of the Verandi official government staff. She had expected more pomp, to be honest. But from the looks of things the various dignitaries had not actually expected to arrive at the same time and practically on top of each other. With a curious, "Heh." She recorded everything being done and said in her head since the Secretary has expressly forbid her from recording anything at the landing. Anything he wasn't prepared for and would make him look stupid he didn't want anyone back home to see. She thought to herself.
"Miss Kanh?" the secretary, or, the Secretary's secretary, this was confusing at times, came up to her. "We will be going to the embassy now. You're room is somewhere among the staffs', will you be coming along with us?"
"Yeah, sure." She said, her flippant words and tone indicating her Seralonian upbringing. She walked alongside the rest of the Verandi as they were shown to where on the station they would be staying.
edited 9th Oct '11 5:54:26 PM by Parable
The Sword of the Morning
Tyrir's eyes narrowed as the Kin arrived, and a small smile found his way onto his face " Our future allies arrive." He whispered under his breath. He cleared his throat loudly, as seemingly all the delegates had arrived. " Well." He called. " It seems we are all here. Shall we begin whatever we are supposed to be doing?" He asked harshly. " Or shall we stand around here exchanging pleasantries like a bunch of dimiinskri'ii?"
edited 10th Oct '11 6:32:51 PM by rabbitRider
Your legacy shall drift away, blown into eternity, like the sands of the desert.
|like a boss|
edited 9th Oct '11 4:21:38 PM by BlixtySlycat
go ahead and do every stupid thing you can imagine
James took note that the smaller alien being had taken the same stance as him in getting to business. Even if his manners were atrocious it never hurt to take interest in a like-minded fellow.
Rasse spread her arms, metal rod held in her left hand, and smiled the somewhat eerie vulpine smile. "By all means, let us continue in the appropriate venue then."
Anastaas had been observing what went on with interest, though he made sure not to stare or express the amusement he felt. Though he was officially the Catholic Church's emissary, he had some special instructions from the Pope. First he was not to interfere with NAH's diplomatic agreements, which is why he was merely Pro-Nuncio and thus on-level with his one-time student, instead of a full Apostolic Nuncio with priority over her. The second was that he was supposed to keep an eye on- cordially- the official from the Second Order, who had either not arrived yet or arrived before them.
In his own mind he was here as a scholar first, and a member of the clergy second. It wasn't much different than how he regarded most of his life; he typically held administrative positions instead of actually heading service, and his field was mostly religious history and how the Church had adapted to the various events of the Old World. Now he was given the chance to be put in a position with little precedent, and he wasn't sure how to feel about being the one to make history.
So for now, he would study.
edited 19th Oct '11 11:23:59 PM by SOCR
How can you be in two places at once when you're not anywhere at all?
One of the two bodyguard organisms turned its head towards James as he approached, seeming to bore into him with its eyeless gaze. The creature's mandibles parted slightly, and a low chuff escaped from its thorax cavity as the admiral came to a halt; beyond this, however, it did not react to his presence. Its twin, meanwhile, seemed to regard each member of the Molo'Qraaat entourage in turn, and when its chitinous visage passed over the two additional crustaceans which had skittered out of their vessel it brought its mandibles together to produce a brief, sharp clack.
Zael Tofismet, for his part, nodded politely in thanks as first the human Admiral, then the curious, furry being—seemingly a human, judging from its entourage and demeanour, but if that was the case it was completely unlike any human the praetor had ever encountered—gave a brief explanation of the present situation. He had been just about to reply, but abruptly both Ambassadors turned away from him to speak with yet another human before the Locutus could so much as open his mouth; obviously, his fellow dignitaries did not intend to waste any time.
Though wrong-footed by such behaviour, the Locutus did a good job of concealing his displeasure; his face remained perfectly neutral, and his only reaction to this (likely unintentional) affront was to let out a soft, chirruping click. He then noticed that the Molo'Qraaat ambassador was staring directly at him, making a gesture which was apparently a sign of greeting in the crustacean species' body language. In response, Zael Tofismet closed his right eye slowly and deliberately, keeping the lids shut for several kets while staring at the Molo'Qraaat elder with no small degree of intensity; a sign of greeting as well, to be sure, but far more reserved and not at all friendly.
The Kin ambassador broke this stare once the Doturi dignitary began to speak, and a smile spread across his face. "Yes, I concur," he said, stepping onto the cool deck of the docking bay as he spoke, "let us find a more suitable venue and get down to business."
The Danse Macabre Codex
The Maid
"Understood. Then please everyone, follow me and the Admiral as we head into the Cradle. We got the perfect place to have our meeting" Elena said as she turned around, inviting her fellow ambassadors to move deeper into the station.
Passing through a series of corridors, an open park like environment and finally through an elevator the Ambassadors were led to one of the most secure sections of the whole station... What would soon work as the meeting ground for all races and factions to discuss matters of galactic importance.
And on the center of this section lay the gathering room for the Ambassadors... white in color, with all walls able to shift into various screens as deemed necessary, a big central table, shaped in the form of a gear with the seats placed in the openings of it.
"Here we have our meeting room, called the White Shell during the development phase. We'll need to come up with a more fitting name in the future. For now, please take a seat and then we'll begin the discussions" Elena said while signaling to the empty seat before setting down herself.
If I'm sure of something it's that I'm not sure of anything.
The Sword of the Morning
Tyrir held up a paw, and the Devastators halted outside of the doors of the White Shell, hesitant. Giving his guards a small glare, Tyrir signaled more forcefully, and the pair departed, armor clanking mechanically on the floor as they receded into the distance, back towards the docking bay.
Satisfied, the Dotur ambassador carefully lifted his robes, careful not to reveal his aaraam'kesh, and chose a gap in the cog adjacent to Elena's, figuring it best to be seated alongside his most likely allies. With as much grace and dignity as he could muster climbing onto a piece of furniture, he mounted the chair and seated himself.
" Duirpir'iir humans and their oversized bodies." He grunted, thankful there were some words that the earpiece didn't translate.
After finding his perch, his eyes in annoyance as he realized his height barely surpassed the "gear"'s height, and his eyes were currently level with the edge. He let out a huff of protest, before the chair let out a beep. With a whirl of servos and machinery, the seat rose until it was level with the table, and Tyrir was situated at perfect height.
Tyrir let out a low chirp of satisfaction, and dropped to his fours, curling up comfortably in the seat, the closest the Dotur had to sitting.
" Thank you for your excellent accommodations, Caleite." He chirped again. " Now, what is the first topic of business we are to discuss?"
edited 26th Oct '11 3:41:46 PM by rabbitRider
Your legacy shall drift away, blown into eternity, like the sands of the desert.
James watched Tyrir manage his chair and resisted an amused smile as the small ambassador got the seat at the right level.
His seat of choice caused a dilemma for the Verandi. He had taken a spot right next Elesa, which James had hoped to do. Sit between her and the Dotur anyway. Now if he wanted to sit by his neighbor or his neighbor-to-be he had to choose one or the other.
Everything about everything would dictate he take a seat next to Elesa as a sign of human solidarity, if nothing else. They had a history stretching back since the Fall. Similar cultures and language made everything between them easy and amicable. A treaty that had endured for over a century was still in affect and the government had already assured its allies it had every intention of keeping its commitments.
On the other hand, Lancel had done absolutely nothing for the Revolution when aid would have been very much appreciated. The Verandi were a free people and not beholden to anyone.
Tyrir Lyncaal, was a different matter altogether. The Doturi were a harsh people from what James had learned. Their territory was expanding as fast as they could drop ships onto planets. As of the moment the Soprano Black Hole sat between the two nations but Verandi colonization was picking up and the general direction of the people flow was going to lead to crossover with the Doturi. History would be made on whether his people and theirs got along when they started running into each other on a regular basis. And James cared very much about history's judgement.
On the other hand, Jame did not want to appear to be looking for alien favor. The Verandi may be the smallest of the human nations but no one could deny they had military might. And there was no guarantee the little ambassador would respond to friendliness with friendliness. For now, better stick with what he knew.
With coat tails flowing behind him, James took a seat on the other side of Elesa.
— A prolonged hiss came from the mask of Nra'Qus when the Locutus broke his stare. The elderly Molo'Qraaat scuttled forward, whiskers straightening, after the rest of the diplomats, but only after they had begun their own movement. Once he reached the door into the corridors, the two grey-clad youngsters reappeared at his side before scuttling up the walls onto the ceiling, matching his pace once up there. Nra'Qus made no move to acknowledge them, ambling on in silence, even when he reached the doorway to the conference room. As he entered this chamber, the grey-clads silently dropped to the floor, positioning themselves on either side of the doorway in meditative pose, still as statues.
Yellowed whiskers waved hither and yon, while the white film over his eyes receded another inch. The crustacean scuttled to a position between the humans (specifically the Verandi) and the other aliens, a foot closer to the former. Nra'Qus positioned his upper pair of arms under his "chin", jerkily steepling their claws, whilst the lower pair flopped on the table. He would now speak only when spoken to. —
edited 22nd Oct '11 7:51:43 PM by Colonial1.1
The Maid
"You're welcome, Ambassador" Elena says to Tyrir, obviously pleased that he noticed the special accommodations. After that she only spared time to give James at her side a quick smile before she cleared her throat to speak.
"Yes, the first order of business..." The Lancel woman says, touching the white table once to make it project a hologram of the space station and it's surroundings "Would be coming into an agreement on how to divide the security of the Cradle among all of our factions"
If I'm sure of something it's that I'm not sure of anything.
Zael Tofismet strode after his fellow dignitaries at a swift yet dignified pace, his staff rapping against the floor at every other step to produce a soft thump; as he departed from the docking bay, the Hadrahkh'tushahn's boarding ramp retracted back into the vessel's underside and the hatch leading to its disembarkation chamber irised shut, effectively sealing the diplomatic vessel up. The twin bodyguard organisms knuckle-walked after their charge, their ape-like postures confident and ready for action; they panned their eyeless heads back and forth as they ventured into the heart of Babel's Cradle, allowing no detail to escape their sightless gaze.
Upon arriving at the White Shell chamber, the two creatures rumbled softly to themselves and peered inside, clacking their mandibles together in what might have been disapproval. They glanced at their charge then, but the Praetor of the Ark Reach Overcolony merely shook his head and gestured towards the corridor itself; in response, the bulky beasts took up a position towards either side of the door, faintly jostling the pair of Molo'Qraaat sentinels as they manoevred into position.
With that taken care of, the Kin ambassador strode into the room and waited for several of the other dignitaries to claim their seats; once they had done so, he stepped forward to take one for himself. Located next to the Doturi ambassador, it also happened to be directly across from the emissary of the Molo'Qraaat—a fact which suited Tofismet of Zael just fine. The Locutus twisted a small segment of his staff, causing its end to split open into a tripod base and allowing it to stand upright of its own accord; once the eight-foot rod was stable, he then settled into his chair and interlaced his fingers in a gesture of calculating contemplation.
When the Lancel representative brought up the matter of how to divide the security of the station, Zael Tofismet remained silent for the moment; he wished to see what the other factions would bring to the table before commenting.
The Danse Macabre Codex
The Sword of the Morning
The pair of armored bodyguards tramped back towards the docking hangar, the Devastators heavy boots clanking even on the plush carpet of the station's hallways. To observers, the pair of Dotur appeared to be completely silent, except for the menacing thuds of their movement. However, inside their armored helmets and past their flickering displays, the two soldiers were anything but.
Inside the Helmets
" Prii iirki'hensar rii'Lyngrall urn'di pa'ill kriek'ell, oa'Hyurn?* " Asked the soldier on the right, his voice betraying serious annoyance. " rii urn'darll ji Molo'Qraaat!* " He voiced his concern forcefully to his partner.
" Ay paar'ii!* " Hyurn shot back, her mocking laughter echoing through the comm. " Ti'frangleii'rii gurndaii urn'ji oort rii'Ortiius, ti'Molo'Qraaat urungeii'rii urn'di kriek'ell.* " She responded to Ortiius, as they rounded a corner onto yet another expanse of plush hallway. " Ay gugrii, rii'Tyrir tei'priindyr rii'Tyrir. Rii'irvyndall urn'ell byrandillis'ell tei.* "
Ortiius sighed, well aware he was going to lose this argument, like every one he had with Hyurn. " Ay rii'Tyrir jurrindyr'irrki ayndyeii meii'irundeii.* "
Hyurn gave a satisfied chirp of superiority, and the two re-entered the hangar, ignoring the stares from the humans near the entrance. They trooped towards the shuttle, this time at a more relaxed pace.
Scanning the hangar idly, Ortiius had a thought. " Yei, prundeii ell'Molo'Qraaat ruunti'ell?* " He asked, cocking his head, scanning more intently.
Hyurn gave an uncommitted shrug. " Meii'ti'irrt. Urrt'yytri urn'heii leyntrii.*
He shot he a look of annoyance. Something was lost, however, by having to pass through two black armored visors. Hyurn stifled another laugh as the two grew closer to the shuttle.
edited 27th Oct '11 6:45:30 PM by rabbitRider
Your legacy shall drift away, blown into eternity, like the sands of the desert.
James frowned and the woman's words. "Surely the Lancel Empire be providin' for security arrangements outside the station of their own creation?" He said aloud. It occurred to him that security arrangements inside the station were never finalized either. Naturally his small team guarded their "embassy" for lack of a better word, but any coordination with existing authorities had never been explained to him. He didn't want any misunderstanding to arise and cause a scandal.
Or that damn fool reporter to just make a scandal just by being nosy. James kept his thoughts to himself though until the others had their say.
The Sword of the Morning
Tyrir stretched languidly on his chair. " Oh, yes, The System's Alliance of Doturi has committed resources to the defense of the station, where was it..." He withdrew a small pad out of his robes and scrolled it for several moments. " Ah, here it is." He said, finding the information he was looking for. " A single minor battle group, consisting of six Rii'rickrei-class carriers and supporting ships, frigates, supplies, all those things." He remarked out of hand, as he committed a planetary assault force to the station's defense.
Tyrir lowered the pad. " His Excellency apologizes, it appears no Dreadnoughts could be spared for the station's defense." He said, barely holding back a smirk.
Your legacy shall drift away, blown into eternity, like the sands of the desert.
「MENACING」
The webways of Euralian stretched across their space like a cosmic net. The hundred-plus minds constantly were in motion, the background noise a haze of DNA codes whispered and recorded by every mind, all thoughts linked in harmony. Chaotic but serene, the internal, subconscious conversations of a single living organism were rendered into a sort of voice, here. There was no distinguishing one creature from another, not without being part of it.
...control out of is Neuwoch plague, countervirus introduce. Rupture twenty hydrogen sacks did, start fires did not. Patience give gardeners. Burner code: CGTTAU AL- Talani. What do I for that? Stronger must be I future for. Balances and alliances must make I, or fall in wrath shall Euralian.* But species not know I. Must learn I. Searchs made have I. Contacted have I been. Cradle of Eden called is it. Location know I? Yes. Ambassador send I. -CUTLACTGCUALCATTUAGCL...
Space seemed to slide backwards, stars blurring and flickering in a sudden distortion, and suddenly something green and blue glittered in the diplomatic station's floodlights. It appeared small and vulnerable, next to the bulky station and escorts. The thorn, its only real defensive measure, was small and almost deformed in shape, obviously terrible for use as a weapon. Instead a bright, ready glow, the reddish-black photocells were dull and ureflective. Its 'torso' was, in contrast, elaborately designed- and obviously it was so, for nothing could naturally have grown like this. Delicate petals had woven together to form its exterior, giving the seedling the appearance of a flower about to bloom, with the thorn as its stem. Small vents opened and closed on its oval-shaped body, letting off clouds of gas that propelled the seedling forwards. Its two massive fins were folded back against the body, rippling in silvery motion at the kiss of gravity and solar wind. As close as it had arrived, opening them would throw the seedling off course.
It drifted towards the spacedocks, pulsing slowly, waiting for an opportunity to enter. After a moment of hanging awkwardly, a scratchy quality hailing signal went up, radio-based.
"Rul am called I. Amba- Excuse I. This 'language' thing is new to I... Us. I am the Ambassador of Euralian. I have arrived." Like requests do they before entry. "I request passage into Cradle of Eden."
Scans of the ship would reveal only that it was a seedling, its interior filled with biomass and water, with a few warm-blooded creatures located with its core and almost thirty smaller animals moving about the interior like parasites. Smaller creatures similar to the seedling clung to the outside, attached to it with suckers. Some had massive eyes, or bulbous sacs on their front, or smaller and multiple 'thorns' jutting out of their bodies. One of the eyelings detached as they entered, drifting slowly away to get a better look at the station.
Deep inside the seedling, the ambassador stirred. It was suspended within a layer of nutrient-rich gel, surrounded by the fleshy walls that had grown it. Its brain- a tiny, atrophied thing that only dealt with subconscious things- began to flicker with life. Unable to move much yet, for there were no real corridors or hallways inside the seedling, the mind that touched it settled for learning its muscles and nerves, to be able to control it. Many-limbed swimmers drifted past, applying last-minute doses of chemicals and therapies to grow the ambassadorform in the right way. All that could be hoped was that it would succeed in its duty.
Rul did not want failure. They would not survive it- Not just the seedling and its animalistic crew, who mattered little or nothing to the macroorganism, but Euralian as a whole. They were strong, they were smart, and they were small.
And as they had begun to learn since Tallani, they were also very, very mortal.
The Maid
A reassuring male voice spoke through the communication channels to the Euralian Ambassador "Received Ambassador. You got authorization to land on the Cradle. The landing course and protocols are being sent to you as we speak and I'll be here to guide you in the whole process"
"My, that is incredibly generous of His Excellency. He should know that our Empire is incredibly grateful for such commitment to our security" Elena says, smiling brightly.
She then turned to address James' concerns "Indeed, the Lancel Empire has worked hard to provide appropriate defenses for the station which is our creation. However, as this place is an embassy and neutral ground for all of our factions... Well we predicted that there might be a interest in the member states to provide defenses for this epicenter of diplomacy"
If I'm sure of something it's that I'm not sure of anything.
A curious sound emanated from Rasse's snout, resting in her hands as she leaned forward as if to read the contents of the diminutive diplomat's pad herself. From her position between the Verandi and the Molo'Qraaat ambassadors, this would be difficult and was more for the illustration of curiosity. "Why does the Doturi want to allocate an entire battlegroup to the Cradle? Having so many ships here may have opposite the intended effect. Indeed if the Doturi were to ever rescind this station's mission, these forces you purport to defend this station may overwhelm it. For the security of all involved, perhaps it would be best to keep defense pledges under that of the station's own defensive capability? We wish to bolster it, not eclipse it. This is, as our colleague just said, neutral ground."
Rasse looked around the room in a more general manner, addressing nobody in particular. "NAH already has one Scout Cruiser in-system, my personal vessel, which is to remain here as long as I do. We also have a mutual defense pact with Lancel. The battlegroup present at Terra Nova is ready to respond to any request for aid from this station or my own ship, and has a quantum relay set up between my ship and Providence. We will be ready to respond to the needs of this station-" she looked specifically at Tyrir now- "when they arise."
While Fuchs was actually present at the discussion he did not speak a word, and had chosen a seat in the unoccupied quadrant of the circular arrangement. The Church had exactly one warship to their name, which remained in orbit around New Jerusalem, a NAH planet that was its administrative heart.
edited 12th Nov '11 10:17:21 PM by SOCR
How can you be in two places at once when you're not anywhere at all?
"You raise a valid point, Ambassador," Zael Tofizmet interjected, his tone level. "That said, I would assume it only natural that all members of this accord would wish to be sure that their representatives are kept in...what was the expression? Ah, yes, I believe it was 'good hands'. In fact, the Lancel Ambassador voiced words to this effect mere kets ago, and as Praetor of the Ark Reach Overcolony I can find no fault in the logic of her assumption; after all, we all have invested considerable stakes in this venture, and the Kin, at least, intend to see to it that it unfolds without any...disruptions."
This last word was accompanied by a brief glance in the direction of the Molo'Qraat ambassador; then, after taking a moment to unlace his fingers, the Kin Locutus reached into the pockets of his raiment and retrieved a small, translucent disc of mica and quartz. "To that end," he continued, placing the disk down on the table so that its flat underside was facing upwards, "the Ark Reach Overcolony has also taken measures to ensure the security of this orbital platform should an emergency arrives. Oh, there are no Kin vessels in-system at the moment—discounting, of course, my diplomatic shuttle, the Hadrahkh'tushahn—but, as fortune would have it, a relatively stable corridor of the capillary network connects this system to the outer colony of Suu-dahva."
The Praetor traced the nail of his right index finger along the side of this disk, and a cone of orange-tinted light flared into existence from its surface; within this cone formed the gently-revolving image of a large spacecraft. Distinctly Kin in design, it was similar to the Hadrahkh'tushahn in that it possessed multiple articulated drive nacelles, but the scale indicated that it dwarfed the diplomatic vessel by several orders of magnitude; further, it was far more angular and dangerous-looking in aspect, though the image was just hazy enough to keep any of those present from making out any significant details such as weapon placements and the like.
"There is only one vessel stationed there, but it should be sufficient; should the need arise, the Nar'gattusanthahz can be in-system within a matter of klekkets."
With his point made, Tofismet of Zael traced his finger over the holoprojector's edge once more, shutting it down; he did not return the device to his pocket, however, instead opting to leave it on the table for the time-being should he have need of it again.
The Danse Macabre Codex
— The arthropod peered over at this vessel owlishly, the film over his eyes having fully receded. The tips of his filed down claws clicked together four times, before one of the lower claws pulled up what looked like an ancient pocket watch from down below. This device was flicked onto the table, a beige string noticeably attached to it from the claw, where it made a resonant chime.
The white portions of Nra'Qus' mask lit up once more as the official spoke, settling for a dry tone this time. His whiskers remained in neutral position, not moving a flicker. —
Sssince this assembly ssseemsto be making clear their contributions to the security of this space, now would be the time for Molo'Qraaat to also be honest.
— The crustaceal diplomat clicked together both upper and lower claws in unison, making the device chirp. After a brief whine, five bright green silhouettes were projected upwards from the emitter, designations in both English and the Home Speech of the Molo'Qraaat'in set below them. All five objects looked bulky, crustaceal, and yet also smoothly blade-like. Four were flattened and fairly small, having a half-circle shape, their engines prominent yet also protected by an overhang of hull plating. The only things that could be observed as weapons were four small domes each on the top and bottom, which could be ball turrets.
The fifth, much larger, designated by translation as the Master Of The Mountain, was the broad axe to the smaller vessels' saw-blades. Four tiers there were of the ship's superstructure, each appearing thick with armoured hull plating. Two large pylons, shaped not unlike the whiskers of its builders, folded over and back into the vessel topside, while a staggering sixteen "ball-turrets" mottled top and bottom. Peculiar, slightly bulbous ridges lined the front "blade" of this large cruiser, though if they were for more than ornamentation was anyone's guess. Five plating-veiled engines blazed away at the ship's aft, proportionally large to drive this beast.
Nra'Qus coughed lightly, giving those assembled a minute to observe these shapes. —
These five will be ready to enter the system within a moment if trouble arises, and speedily intercept, what is that word, "gate-crashers". Naturally, the Claw is gloved for now.
— Again the elder clicked his claws together, and the device shut off. He made a gesture with one of the upper claws, sliding the device over to the Lancels, evidently for their keeping, as the string connecting it to Nra'Qus' claw snapped. —
James kept himself from snorting in disapproval. A venture which nobody truly knew whether it would succeed or not did not warrant such guarantees of force. The Doturi were flaunting their guns and James did not appreciate it. Besides, the Empire really did not want to go over the budget with this enterprise.
The Molo'Qraaat seemed more reasonable but honestly he could not tell just what those five ships were capable of.
In any case it was probably time for Verandi to speak up.
"No Verandi space craft save the shuttle that be bringing me and my company here is presently in near space. At the moment our fleet is very much involved in hunting down rogue warlords on the frontier, very much indeed, and cannot spare much." James explained. "For the time being, we do offer a cruiser patrol force for this here station's defense."
As he spoke the words he sent the data to each ambassadors personal computer. Two light cruisers and three destroyers. If the ships seemed clunkier then their alien counterparts they left no illusion that they were anything but warships. What might have been of interest to some in the room were the four large robots carried by the cruisers marked "WF-S" followed by some acronym or another.
"In addition," James went on. "and since my colleague here brought up the subject of gates," he nodded respectfully at Nra'Qus. "If this here enterprise should prove successful in the long run, the Verandi Empire would be interested in the construction of a Tychon Gate in the vicinity to allow rapid movement of manpower and supplies between here and my homeland."
「MENACING」
"Thank you. I am proceeding with the dock."
The seedling, letting out tiny gas puffs, drifted forward towards one of the docking bays. When it neared what it judged was close enough, it sent out another wave. "I cannot bring this seedling into gravity- It was not designed for it. No doubt it would collapse under its own weight. I shall send a pod, instead."
Deep within the seedling, the swimming creatures fled from the growth chamber. A steady current formed by slowly twisting fins dislodged the ambassadorform from its spot. It was pushed through a long tube, before dropping into a fleshy pod- Like a tiny seedling. As soon as the remaining ties were severed, a contraction expelled the pod from the seedling.
The pod entered the hanger, landing heavily on the steel plating when the gravity took hold. Three spines struck out, scratching on the floor and keeping the pod from overturning.
Any guards would see a large, egg-shaped organism, a little larger than a car. The exterior was a dull green-brown, made of thick, bone-like carapace that was cracked in places, splitting up along three sections. The spines raised and lowered, shifting the bulk to be more comfortable- each sat in the center of a section. The fins had spread out as a base. The air smelled of harsh chemicals. There were no obvious methods of a return flight- Of course, Rul had never intended there to be. The Ambassadorform would only need to live until this meeting ended, of course. Then it could be disposed of- recycled, in a way.
Like a fruit, it split smoothly open, revealing a smaller structure inside- Floating inside a pale sac filled with blueish liquid, a humanoid creature was curled up in a fetal position. It kicked out; a long, thin spider's leg scratched at the barrier. Then, as if that were a cue, it awoke, tearing its way free of the shell with its hands. A humanoid torso was exposed, then the unusually triangular head- Finally, the whole creature was exposed, a crystal-skinned man without features besides the face. The blue fluid soaked back into the pod.
Free, the ambassador stood on shaky legs, turning its hands over curiously. "Seems... In order," it said, in an artificial voice that accented the syllables with rising notes. That would need fixing, but Rul was straining itself to keep total focus on the creature, keeping it from enacting its own subhuman intelligence. This would be a challenge, but a necessary one.
It took a few steps from the pod, its posture changing entirely too fast. One moment, it was rigid and awkward- Now it began to settle into a dignified stance, arms folded loosely over its front.
Now, where was everyone...?
"And over here we have... the same place I just left. Damn." Elliot stamped her foot in frustration. With the Secretary having gone to his conference and the others prepping their living quarters, Elliot found herself a reporter without much to report. So exploring the space station seemed to be in order. And without a tour guide so she could wander wherever she pleased.
So naturally she had gotten lost and ended up back at the shuttle bay. Sighing, she looked into the camera and spoke aloud to record a memo to herself when she edited at a later date, "Delete this part, okay?" With her camera hovering just behind her, Elliot looked back at the way she had come, wondering if she should go that way again or take a look around the hanger some more.
Then she froze to watch a giant seed pull into the space station. It landed - for like dropped - on three spikes that skidded across the floor. Elliot watched in awe as the seed split open and out emerged some sort of humanoid alien. It didn't look like anything recognized, and she had spent hours memorizing what the various life forms coming to Babel's Cradle looked like. Then again, more then a few of those life forms had no pictures to look at in her holo-pad, could this be one of them?
Elliot was the closest she had ever gotten to an alien being now. Barely 7 meters away. The awe faded and reporter instinct kicked in. She had met the alien and now she would be the first Verandi reporter to interview one in decades!
"Sir! Sir!" She rushed over to the crystal-skinned alien after making sure her translator was working. Her little hover camera trying to keep up. "Hello, Elliot Khanh of the Verandi Galactica." She said, followed by a quick bow. Be polite, get to the point. "Are you an ambassador to Babel's Cradle?"
edited 28th Nov '11 9:50:07 AM by Parable
「MENACING」
The ambassadorform turned its snakelike head to regard the reporter. Something in the pod shifted as well, and suddenly a creature that resembled a cat-sized daddy long-legs pushed its way out of the membrane. It dropped to the floor and began to circle, observing with several large eyes. The movements of the ambassador and the cazek were obviously linked- They even blinked together. When the ambassador spoke, the spider seemed to hum along.
"Yes, I have arrived for that purpose." Rul wondered what a Verandi Galactica might be, but no answers could be found amongst the Ways, except that the Verandi were a kind of human and 'galactica' had something to do with galaxies. Or, oddly enough, milk. "You are of Human, correct? No, it would be 'humans', wouldn't it." Its cold, thin eyes watched her carefully. "Are you also for diplomacy, for this Verandi Galactica?"
edited 9th Oct '11 4:21:48 PM by BlixtySlycat
go ahead and do every stupid thing you can imagine