Post by andromeda on Feb 26, 2024 3:18:03 GMT
MITA Joint HQ, Mithran Star City
At the main center for coordination of the economic alliance
Humanitarian (Sophontitarian) Coordination and Dispersal
Factions:
SR
Sax
ARM
Characters:
Leysa Puma (SR-Sax Rep)
Mar Bre (Selenican Commission of Humanitarian Affairs Rep)
Zhian Releyme (ARM Rep)
SR
Sax
ARM
Characters:
Leysa Puma (SR-Sax Rep)
Mar Bre (Selenican Commission of Humanitarian Affairs Rep)
Zhian Releyme (ARM Rep)
At the apex of the megastructure was the finest work of Bulwark architects: the Star City of the Mithran. It conjoined styles from each of the member factions and their own constituent cultures into a heady mesh of different designs, different ways of thinking.
Leysa Puma sat in an alcove, watching the arrival of ships with materials and people, and the departure of empty craft hungrily seeking out yet more matter to feed to the celestial sphere. Each passing of a vessel coated them in cold shadow, making them shudder.
Yet it was not the cold itself that chilled them, but rather the underlying purpose of her being here.
Trillions were dead across the galaxy, and there was now a great scramble to try to help those who had survived a massive superweapon exchange. With a quiet breath of relief, the Consensus was not alone in endeavoring to help the victims.
Among many of MITA’s greatest scientists, engineers, and paragons of business and finance, the Mithran stood as a shining beacon in the bleak darkness encompassing the galaxy. A beacon, which stood for hope against the despair of recent times. Many nations’ citizens gathered upon its crust, a mere fragment of what it would become.
Within this beacon, Mar Bre stared into the deep blackness of space, viewing the remaining stars twinkling in the sky. She reclined comfortably in a small single-person alcove, its ceiling emptied and replaced with glass, with a couch to lie or sit upon and small, viney plants along the upper trim of the wall. They were a resplendent vermillion, permanently engineered to be in bloom. Bre inhaled deeply through her nose, flicking her tongue to grasp the rich and complex smells. Opening her zipped pocket, a note fell into her right hand. Scrawled in a quick imitation of the Selenican script, it read her instructions:
“We must be the vectors for the shining beacon, giving light to those which the dark consumed.”
Fittingly poetic for her leader’s sense of language. She crumpled the note, tossing it across the alcove into a hole, where its fate would be left to those who were lower on the ladder. Leaning forward, she rose from her comfortable relaxation, her words recited and her heart firm. The terror and despair encompassing the galaxy must be repulsed, by any means necessary.
Zhian winked out the holoscreens he’d been conversing with prior and hauled his bulk to the screens that told him when and where the meeting would be held, his impassive pale face glowing an eerie yellow as the data flooded over him. Just another job, if unexpected. He hated being pulled from his routine. Managing the Vaubardians was easy, handling the LAU inspectors was a small matter, but the private scavs were like trying to herd un-chipped nonsapient drones. Which was to say, agonizing. Still, after the shock and horror of the Corona incident he supposed the ARM had no choice but to look like it was doing something. And in a worst-case scenario, find out what happened to the force they sent over there.
The vasudani felt the tension behind their eyes as the little reminder they’d set went off. Picking themselves up from the ground and the starry landscape, they move over to a console and chime the appropriate people to let them know that they’d be waiting for them in one of thousands of meeting halls. They were a little excited to meet one of the ARM a-humans, they’d seen so much through the eyes of the Soli on Perliszo that they wanted an opportunity to meet one in person. Daren had left a good impression overall on the Consensus, so the metaphorical ball was in the court of one Zhian Releyme to maintain the impression.
Bouncing from foot to foot, Leysa poked and prodded at some of the controls to adjust the temperature, a little of the atmospheric pressure, and a smidge of the gravity. Not enough that Mar Bre would be uncomfortable, but more in line with a between space between the void-adapted aliens and the planetary ones.
Smiling, they spread a few little chips on the table and sat down, eager to share the first of the growingly infamous Pahun Pah’s recipes.
“About time, isn’t it?” Mar spoke softly, stretching her slender arms above her head and flipping her torso forward, her short coils in a neat pile on the floor. Taking one last taste of the flower’s rich smell, she left her peaceful alcove in haste, quickly scanning her holophone for the reminder the vasudani sent them; the meeting hall they selected was graciously close.
Gripping the floor and launching herself along the long, bright, and eclectic halls of the Mithran, Mar took note of the various styles of her colleagues’ contributions as she passed them. The Selenican preference for anachronism, the Sax preference for vibrant and seemingly storybook-perfect landscapes, and an a-human preference for geometries which accommodated their bizarre body plans. Even her own people’s preferences felt…wrong to her.
Soon, she came across the right room, graciously only five minutes from her preferred respite from her ever-mounting duties. Opening the hatch, her breathing began to hasten, making the two-second entrance into the hall feel like time had slowed; had twenty seconds passed? Thirty? Fourty? She shook her head, slithering into the hall. With a slight flick of the tongue and a brief scan of both color and heat, she found the vasudani, as if their attitude wasn’t enough to stand out.
The transhuman arrived like a wave of artificial flesh and segmented metal, his large, undulating form sweeping through the entrance, both pulled along by his two primary humanoid limbs and his many smaller scuttling ones, the bulbous frontal segment containing his face directed straight ahead as his eyes ran over the rest of the congregation, secondary manipulator limbs arranged about the rim of his cranial opening in a way almost like a flower in bloom. He idly wondered if others would find his appearance intimidating, aside from the Sax of course. It was certainly large. In truth, it was simply a civilian body which was stylish by A-human standards and suitable for housing his enlarged and enhanced synthetic brain. It was a bureaucrat’s body, a stately and officious form in the style of the Head Administrators and their titanic, serpentine Dolma morphs.
He said nothing. In truth, he struggled to initiate small talk. He had been chosen for this role due to his aptitude in organization and logistics moreso than his personal skills. But if it was necessary, he would try.
Leysa broadened their smile as the others entered and took up appropriate positions at the table. Pushing their chair out with their tail, they waved at each, “Hello! I have not had the pleasure of meeting either of you in person. I am Leysa Puma, of the Higal Honick. I am here to represent the spirit of healing, aid, and succor that this constellation will assemble.”
Gesturing at the chips in two pearlescent bowls, they smile more broadly, “I have brought snacks. Pahun Pah has made it a point to teach us who come here the tradition of sharing in edible items. Though, I confess,” she looks over at Zhain, “I didn’t plan for the particular morphologies. I apologize if it is not compatible.”
“The discussion, per the agenda Pahun Pah relayed to me, will center on the aid we will each be committed on behalf of MITA. Is this in concurrence with each representative's understanding?”
“Pleased to meet you, Puma. As for formal introductions, I am Mar Bre, department head of the Selenican Commission for Humanitarian Aid. The room is a tad uncomfortable, but by no means unworkable; especially given the circumstances of our other party here.” She nodded her head over to the a-human. Upon its entrance in the diplomatic hall, a brief shock went through her: “Is this what ARM sees as ‘fashionable’?!” Her face betrayed no ill will, moreso culture shock.
“And that agenda Pahun Pah relayed to you is accurate, per my information.” She replied, taking one of the bowls and examining the chips within. They smelled delicious, if…very different from the hardened jerky that made up most Selenican junk foods. One bite later and her suspicions were confirmed; her tongue was accurate that these “chips” were quite tasty.
The transhuman looked to Leysa.
“It is acceptable. This body does not feel discomfort unless I wish it. There is no need to be concerned.” That was the right thing to say, wasn’t it? He certainly was careful not to break anything on the way in, and his kinesthetic and spatial awareness was certainly sufficient for that. All appendages were operating acceptably. What was there to worry about? With a smaller manipulator arm, he reached to sample a chip. His body was perfectly capable of metabolizing organic matter, even turning it into energy to an extent. Perfect, gleaming metal teeth flashed briefly as his mouth opened.
He turned to the Selenecian as she made introductions. Knowing the importance of not speaking with his mouth full, he dropped the pretense that he actually needed his mouth to vocalize as a hum emitted from his body.
“I am Zhian Releyme, numerical code-” A brief drone of numbers emitted from his body. This was his real name, that is, the one universally linked to his business and personal social media accounts. Anyone who wished to contact him could replay the conversation, surely being recorded as it was, to access it for future use. This was normal for him.
“I represent the Developmental Administrative Unit, the Anthropic Refinement Movement subdivision tasked with civilian logistics, infrastructure, and development. Alongside private salvaging corporations and a detachment of the Vaubardia Planetary Strategic Task Force I will be assisting you all to the best of my abilities. Thank you for accepting the Administration’s offer of cooperation.”
Leysa bows slightly from their seated position, reaching out a hand to “catch” the numbers that Zhian had shared. They reciprocate with the fractal tesseract that served as the actual name of the Saxheelian - though this is something they share through the infrastructure built into the Mithran, rather than vocally, “Thank you Zhian, if you will accept it, I would be inclined to remain in contact in the future. The Soli speak well of your people, and it is my role in our society to find the spark of all we encounter.”
Turning to Mar, Leysa continues, “I’m pleased to have us all in assembly. With our efforts, I’ve no doubt we’ll establish swift consensus and see to the relief of as many as we are able. My kind are accustomed to switching perspectives, that is to say, taking turns. If this is amicable, we may proceed individually to state our interests, our abilities to assist, and our concerns.”
“To which I will address first: we seek to distribute medical support to the factions struck by the weapons of stellar destruction. We seek to only aid the victims, not those who participated in the active exchange. The Consensus has concluded that to act otherwise would result in negative alien-cache activity. Our abilities are centered around one of our most prestigious healers, whom will be acting as the mobile center of operations for Saxheelians. It is a large cladeship, quite adept at the art. And our concern is in our safety.”
Leysa settles back into her seat, switching her attention between both of the other beings in the room.
The tesseract of Puma’s true being deeply confused Mar, the seemingly contradictory nature of their being causing her to put a hand to her forehead and fail to wrap her confused mind, accustomed to quiet rural life, around it.
“Specifically those struck by the massive superweapon exchange? What about those nations who retaliated in kind?” She asked almost curiously, hand under her jaw and eyes closed. “My nation views retaliatory strikes as a valid response to being fired upon by weapons of this magnitude. Is that not the case?”
“In any event, my nation does not currently possess the medical technology to truly assist those left alive, if survivors are even a factor to consider. What we do possess, however, is a large agricultural base that could be used in keeping the populations affected by the losses of their…planets.”
The tesseract shape was somewhat difficult for Zhian to parse but it was not entirely above his capacity. Another reminder of the power a far more advanced alien race possessed. As with any Peer, he was less shaken and more envious. One day he too would boast such a form, if all went well. Any superior being was simply a model by which oneself could reach the same status.
“Though my primary purpose here is to oversee the recycling of unusable land and inorganic matter into usable shelters and goods, I will say that we do have the capacity to produce and repair biological matter as well.” He smiled in a way he hoped was disarming.
“We do not distinguish between the two categories.”
“That said, the closer any alien race is to humans as my society defines them, the easier it will be. Our capacity for biological engineering is primarily focused on the manipulation of our own genetics. The further a client strays from that, the more difficulty we may have. Apologies for this limitation. But we will do what we can.”
The mention of superweapons was indeed somewhat vexing, but he had been drilled in the event it came up.
“Given the political situation, any contributions the ARM offers would be best suited to CONA-aligned systems. That said, we would be willing to aid SAGA systems as well, provided it is understood that this is purely a gesture of humanitarian aid and will not be lended to military installations or equipment which has been damaged.”
Leysa pulls the information from the database and displays it via the holographic projector built into the table. An overlay appears, mapping the damage across the galaxy.
“People who struck first were from SAGA. Retaliation began with Orillia. The nations that fired and were fired upon are too volatile at this point. By aiding the nations who were victims, we reduce the odds of strikes against MITA itself and its associates. This is why we support a position of aiding only the victims, rather than the perpetrators. Say we send aid to Canton? The galaxy would rightfully condemn us.”
“Say we send aid to Orillia, who was not the initiator of the attacks, but did retaliate - killing billions in the process. This would result in nothing less than an escalation. The Clade Entire is unanimous in this instance: if support is given to the attackers, the Clade will be unable to offer support in turn to this project. As it is, we will be hard pressed to ensure the safety of this convoy with the current state of affairs, it is unwise to draw unwanted negative attention to it by demonstrating favoritism.”
“Though, I do personally agree with Zhian that support should be to civilians, and not to military assets.”
The map lingers, with the death toll in bright red. Trillions upon trillions had been slaughtered, and a dozen major star systems rendered unto dust.
It is in that space of silence that Leysa lets themselves slip once more into the deep contemplation of before.
Zhian felt nothing as he gazed at the map. With his enhanced brain, he could certainly comprehend the numbers in the way a baseline couldn’t. He was certainly prepared for the chance of the ARM being attacked by such a terrible weapon. But it hadn’t been, and he didn’t have an emotional connection to anyone who died, and none of them affected the economics of the ARM too terribly. This was just life.
“Your observations are acceptable. I will say that given the diplomatic complexity of this event, I will more or less defer to the judgment of the others here unless something exceptionally objectionable is forwarded.” He inclined his head. “My specialty is management of the logistical network I seek to construct. I am not a member of Xenology, after all.” Xenology, the department that dealt with foreign powers. The ARM had sent an architect and a planner, not a diplomat.
Mar held her words as the other two spoke, a deep, icy pain in her throat and chest as the death toll ticked upward on the screen. She placed her hand over her mouth, shaking her head slightly back and forth, pained by the loss of many who were close to her.
“...Your positions are likely correct. Protection of MITA assets and ourselves is of utmost priority, and it's simply too risky to assist military assets or the various extremist states. Beyond just agricultural support, I have it on good authority that the Selenican civilian fleets are, as the Second Dawn’s collapse seems imminent, being allowed back out into open space; possibly helping out ARM’s reclamation efforts is on the cards.”
Leysa nods slowly, “That is…hm. An event.”
Another society falling apart - no matter one as blatantly villainous as the Second Dawn - would only further destabilization. Civil wars were likely inevitable, with splintering and a spread of the fighting as other nearby regional powers attempted to contain it. The vasudani woman sighs softly. The spark was slowly going out across the galaxy; it didn’t take a psychic to sense that much.
“If we are in accord, the Clade is ready to dispatch two additional cladeships in addition to Dianasda, whom the ARM,” she nods at Zhian, “have an existing relationship with. I believe it best to maintain familiarity between the various groups here, and thus Pyrrhic Visions will be meeting with the Selenican Republic to facilitate while Dianasda coordinates with the ARM. As for The Will To Live, they will be deploying to Novish space, to coordinate eventually with Dianasda and ARM assets.”
She glances between the two others, letting silence settle again while internally she coordinated with the Clade.
Zhian nodded. “I have no issues with most of this. We have heard some news of this Second Dawn and their… ongoing event.” Frankly it seemed quite complicated, but if it were all collapsing now he didn’t think he would need to worry about it too much.
“Regardless of where you deem our assets to be most useful, I will trust your judgment.”
“Unrelatedly, I shall say that should you wish it, I may arrange appointments by which you may converse with the Legislation official, the salvager union heads, and the Vaubardia commander who will be working under me.” His head lowered. “It is not necessary, it is merely a gesture of goodwill from the Administration, in the name of transparency.”
“Given our tumultuous times, the support we’re offering to the nations impacted MUST be flexible, especially given Orillia’s infamous unpredictability. However, cooperating with the Pyrrhic Visions again will be a good way to make the sailors trust in the mission.” Mar replied, masking her pain through bitter and cold words.
—
With that, the three of them solidified the aid package: starships were being sent to the affected nations within reach and each would include supplies and support that each faction specialized in. Cladeships would bring medical expertise, the Selenican Republic would bring food and supplies and the ARM would bring their specialists and temporary industry.
Meanwhile, through Kirlan, Leysa was informed that the CES were contributing their own manufactured goods to help support the effort, including several prefabs and modular refugee shelters that could be assembled in space or on a planet.
Finally, the city-ships of the joint Saxheelian and Columen Artificials would be used to help move large numbers of people quickly.