Post by EmperorMyric on Dec 16, 2017 19:41:28 GMT
Mrs. Iselin: Tom, I know you have strong, personal feelings about Johnny and about me. But, what I would like to find out is, how strong they really are. To put it as simply as possible, If Johnny's name were to be put forward at the convention next week, would you attempt to block him?
Sen. Thomas Jordan: [taken slightly aback] You're joking, of course?
Mrs. Iselin: Mr. Stevenson makes jokes, I do not.
Sen. Thomas Jordan: You're seriously trying for the nomination for Johnny?
Mrs. Iselin: No, we couldn't make it. But he has a good chance for the second spot. Now, I've answered your question, but you haven't answered mine. Will you block us?
Sen. Thomas Jordan: Would I block you? I would spend every cent I own, and all I could borrow, to block you. There are people who think of Johnny as a clown and a buffoon, but I do not. I despise John Iselin and everything that Iselinism has come to stand for. I think, if John Iselin were a paid Soviet agent, he could not do more to harm this country than he's doing now. You have asked me a question. Very well, I shall answer you. If you attempt a deal with the delegates, or cause Johnny's name to be brought forward on the ticket, or if, in my canvass of the delegates tomorrow morning, I find that you are so acting, I will bring impeachment proceedings against your husband on the floor of the United States Senate. And I will hit him, I promise you, with everything in my well-documented book.
Mrs. Iselin: [Mrs. Iselin leaves without a word, the discussion clearly over, for the present]
--The Manchurian Candidate, 1962
--oOo--
It is important to understand that all must face the end in time. Gods can only be, after all, so long as they are worshiped; once the fashions of the hour shift from one deity to another, the past becomes stagnant. Perhaps they are kept alive by holdout practitioners for a few centuries longer, but ultimately what it comes down to is that in the end, the gods belong to the archeologists. Their temples become excavation sites before becoming tourist attractions, and in the end the being that once claimed dominion over all things underneath the heavens can all too easily find itself imprisoned in dusty pages of scholarly text and summoned up for lectures and museum exhibits.
Arguably though, should the gods be a bit more timely with their prophecies, such unfortunate outcomes can easily be avoided.
--oOo—
It seemed at this hour to her that she had been tired all of her life. This was of course not entirely true, for once she had been young and youthful and much more fully alive than she was now. That was hardly relevant, Dorin conceded privately as Emissary Deixis concluded his report to his Prime Admiral regarding the proposal from the Union’s emperor.
Her teeth dug softly into her weathered lower lip as the discomfort of the situation reasserted itself on her mind. Diplomacy was utterly foolish here; it had been her attempt, an attempt that to her had been daring in its ambition, to establish contact with another party with intents of avoiding a war that had led to the discovery of her people.
“He has also declined our offer of clemency to the Union,” Deixis added as he leaned on his cane. It was strange how the weak and wounded had come to lead the Ascendancy into its darkest hour. The wounds Dorin and Deixis bore both came from battling the Followers of Chaw’Hast so long ago at the Great Confrontation; they were unhealing wounds in that they were natural things, things that time had been solidly denied right to do to the lives living under the banner of the Flux.
“The nobility of his gesture is noted, emissary.” Dorin replied dryly. She could not understand the futility of such a statement, but it was his choice to make; the Ascendancy did not guide the Union, and so the two were free to treat each other as they wish. She took long pauses now between her words as she calculated and considered and dreaded the end results. Perhaps she could focus their strikes on the rebellious territories in the Union; the majority of the casualties would then not belong to the Emperor’s own forces, but to those who opposed him. Besides, she mused privately, if our last stabs are at the Nakai, then they will be good stabs, well placed stabs…
“I advised the Emperor that I would communicate the entirety of his proposal to you, Prime Admiral. I have done so now.” Deixis cleared his throat, then fell silent. Dorin’s chamber was dimly lit, as it always was, but holographic representations of the cosmos drifted between them, and as Dorin moved away from Deixis into the dark, it was like watching gods tread the heavens; each step passed billions of lives, and it was difficult not to envision fates being crushed underfoot by Dorin’s weathered strides.
“He sincerely thinks we can negotiate?” She inquired softly over her shoulder as she summoned into the room projections of the ship’s theoretical coordinates en route to their targets. Less than forty minutes remained until they would begin to simultaneously enter FSEMCE range of their targets, and the clouds of dots rallied slowly towards their ultimate destinations.
“So he expressed to me, Prime Admiral. He is mostly accurate in describing the costs this will take on us.” Deixis replied diligently. “He furthermore vows his forces would follow us across the heavens to avenge the dead-“
She turned back towards Deixis, her weathered face hardened by the pale light of millions of stars. “He is bold to presume that the survivors of an attack he could have avoided, dwelling in a union already becoming shattered by civil war, would be in a position to threaten us. He rejects our offer of mercy and instead chooses to issue ultimatums to us?”
Deixis said nothing in response, but bowed slightly. “I shall communicate your decision to-“
“If he can see the vague outlines of the future as he claims,” Dorin said with a blank expression covering her eyes, “then he already knows we can’t do that. We need not waste more breath on talking now. Talking is what brought us to this point…and I dare say talking more won’t bring us back any better.”
“We don’t stand to lose too much by talking to the Centum at this point.” Deixis proposed cautiously. “If we are to destroy them either way it would aide our relations with the Union if we could demonstrate the futility of the attempt of coexistence. The Emperor sincerely does not understand the precariousness of our position.” It was an odd statement from him, and Dorin frowned in confusion at it.
“I was rather certain you understood the consequences of our last effort at diplomacy with them, emissary. We may have nothing to lose, but we certainly have nothing worth gaining. Our people cannot survive as a part of a universe that reacts to our discovery with promises of extinction. We must do unto them before they can do unto us.”
Deixis hesitated, and Dorin noticed this. She hesitates too, and it makes since to: this is a turning point. This is one of those fine and rare little moments where all things hinge on what happens between the course of a few heartbeats and a few sets of lungs.
“We are so old we no longer know our age, Deixis. We’ve watched the universe wither away into dead stars and then started freshly over again and again. Eternities like days. You really think I would accept the title as the woman who led her civilization to its downfall?”
The emissary shook his head slowly. “A move that will cost us half of our civilization is tantamount to that. With all due respect, we don’t have the strength.”
Dorin’s fingertips brushed along the dagger’s scabbard, which hung from her belt loosely. It was cold to the touch, and she looked back at Deixis with eyes of equal temperature.
“I have read sayings from the other races saying that it is better to die young than to waste away. I think they’re right.”
“The Emperor strongly advocates a cease fire-“
“—Deixis, have you gone soft?” Dorin asked abruptly, cutting the emissary’s words short. “A cease fire? A cease fire? He wants parity, not peace. We spoke in person once, Deixis; the Emperor demanded me to explain why he should prevent the downfall of our race then when I approached him. They do not want peace. They want security…and I want security more than they do if they’re not willing to face the furies of the hour.”
“He is a man of his word-“ Deixis protested, but Dorin raised her hand to silence him, and so she delivered the furies of the hour.
“The Centum aligns themselves against us and with our enemies, and the friends of our enemies talk of cease fires. This galaxy conspires against us, and it has poisoned your mind with talks of peace and negotiations!” Dorin pointed aggressively at Deixis, her eyes strangely calm as the passion brought by hope and fear colliding poured from her tongue. “Emissary… you may turn your back on our people’s heritage, on our dedication, and on our calling, but I never shall!”
--oOo—
---The Immortal Empire has authorized deployment of the AC-W system at our discretion, Prime Admiral. ---
Emissary Dalyth’s words were presented in the Heraldic text and floated silently through the darkened chamber.
---The overlord is enthusiastic to test our project in combat, but has insisted that it is delivered by an Immortal Empire vessel. They declared war on him just as much as they declared war on us.---
A thin grin of understanding crossed over Dorin’s face. The overlord leapt at the thought of combat, and he would certainly have it in the coming days. Dorin began to thank Dalyth for her ever exceptional service when Dalyth’s words resumed their appearance.
---General Pallam asked me if I had yet notified the Overlord of your intent for the galaxy at large. I have still not received authorization from you to do so, and I am curious as to the cause for your delay in this.---
The words floated through the air without any real connotation of tone, but a quiet sense of alarm-likely drowned out by the larger senses of alarm that pervaded all things at this point-likely became evident.
“I have not authorized that disclosure as yet-“ Dorin began, before more Heraldic text shimmered into existence.
---Do you intend to tell them?---
“Our actions against other do not concern-“
---The ramifications---
“-do not concern them, emissary.” Dorin said forcefully as more words appeared around her.
---We will be hard pressed to fulfill our arrangement with them if our civilization no longer exists.---
“That is quite enough emissary!” Dorin shouted abruptly. The words drifting through the air around her fell out of sight for a moment as Dorin continued.
“We preserve them. The containment barrier will keep signals from reaching them, and CABAL will take care of the rest. The occupiers will be cut off from home, and they will be destroyed in turn.” Each sentence from Dorin was incredibly forceful, and she chained them together quite firmly. “I-“
---They do not deserve the hand you are about to deal.---
--oOo—
The point of the matter was that there was one key difference in the way Dorin saw the galaxy in comparison to her emissaries: she saw herself as a failure. Her entire civilization had entrusted her to keep them safe from discovery, and now at this hour, she had failed. The SSC would tell others, and it was inevitable that knowledge would spread; worse yet, it was all from her decision to try and interact diplomatically with them.
She faced the choice of two fates here: lead her civilization into oblivion by fire, or oblivion by reality. The Ascendancy, by its very nature, would not survive in the open. Once it became more common knowledge that fates were being manipulated by people they couldn’t see, and once common knowledge became accepted, then the Ascendancy would fall apart.
Death was a preferable alternative to discovery, but death could come anyway. For all of the treason that Deixis spewed from his mouth, he had repeated something that had been coming upon her mind with unfortunate frequency these past few days: her civilization could not afford to lose itself in the fire. They had not persisted this long to burn themselves to ashes.
--oOo—
“Prime Admiral Dorin wishes for me to convey her strong urgency in advising that you take precautions to preserve your union from collateral damages.” Emissary Deixis began, his recording flickering in and out of the nearly empty chamber in proper spectral form. “The Centum has promised us our total and entire annihilation, and it is a war that shall surely be prosecuted to their fullest capacity to do so. Pertaining to your proposal for negotiations, the Prime Admiral desires that I express her sincere regret that such activities are not possible at this time. As we cannot compromise on our secrecy or on our policy of action towards the spread of knowledge of our existence, there are no points we find meriting discussion. We have been threatened with extinction, and so we shall respond accordingly.”
Yet in the darkness of space as peace was refused, peace reigned regardless. Silence, after all, is indicative of peace; there are no screams of alarm in a peaceful house. While the specter of cosmic Armageddon still loomed large upon the timelines, the point where the FSEMCEs should have begun dropping stars and ships alike came and went silently. Lives continued, unaware that they had at earlier hours been slated for extermination by forces beyond their comprehension.
In the Golden Expanse, shapes moved in the dark. The Ascendancy moved in many directions; emissaries were instructed to deliver requests, and planetary transports continued to haul worlds. In the dark depths of men’s hearts, a certain similarity could be constrained with these movements. Emotions and ships were one in nature now, and they shifted and ebbed on cosmic winds of hope and fear.
Elsewhere, strange men without pasts future boarded various trampships and freighters and began making varied ports of call; names changed, ships changed, but slowly and methodically, they began to converge towards a few select points, all carrying the same briefcases by their sides.
--oOo—
Sen. Thomas Jordan: [taken slightly aback] You're joking, of course?
Mrs. Iselin: Mr. Stevenson makes jokes, I do not.
Sen. Thomas Jordan: You're seriously trying for the nomination for Johnny?
Mrs. Iselin: No, we couldn't make it. But he has a good chance for the second spot. Now, I've answered your question, but you haven't answered mine. Will you block us?
Sen. Thomas Jordan: Would I block you? I would spend every cent I own, and all I could borrow, to block you. There are people who think of Johnny as a clown and a buffoon, but I do not. I despise John Iselin and everything that Iselinism has come to stand for. I think, if John Iselin were a paid Soviet agent, he could not do more to harm this country than he's doing now. You have asked me a question. Very well, I shall answer you. If you attempt a deal with the delegates, or cause Johnny's name to be brought forward on the ticket, or if, in my canvass of the delegates tomorrow morning, I find that you are so acting, I will bring impeachment proceedings against your husband on the floor of the United States Senate. And I will hit him, I promise you, with everything in my well-documented book.
Mrs. Iselin: [Mrs. Iselin leaves without a word, the discussion clearly over, for the present]
--The Manchurian Candidate, 1962
--oOo--
It is important to understand that all must face the end in time. Gods can only be, after all, so long as they are worshiped; once the fashions of the hour shift from one deity to another, the past becomes stagnant. Perhaps they are kept alive by holdout practitioners for a few centuries longer, but ultimately what it comes down to is that in the end, the gods belong to the archeologists. Their temples become excavation sites before becoming tourist attractions, and in the end the being that once claimed dominion over all things underneath the heavens can all too easily find itself imprisoned in dusty pages of scholarly text and summoned up for lectures and museum exhibits.
Arguably though, should the gods be a bit more timely with their prophecies, such unfortunate outcomes can easily be avoided.
--oOo—
It seemed at this hour to her that she had been tired all of her life. This was of course not entirely true, for once she had been young and youthful and much more fully alive than she was now. That was hardly relevant, Dorin conceded privately as Emissary Deixis concluded his report to his Prime Admiral regarding the proposal from the Union’s emperor.
Her teeth dug softly into her weathered lower lip as the discomfort of the situation reasserted itself on her mind. Diplomacy was utterly foolish here; it had been her attempt, an attempt that to her had been daring in its ambition, to establish contact with another party with intents of avoiding a war that had led to the discovery of her people.
“He has also declined our offer of clemency to the Union,” Deixis added as he leaned on his cane. It was strange how the weak and wounded had come to lead the Ascendancy into its darkest hour. The wounds Dorin and Deixis bore both came from battling the Followers of Chaw’Hast so long ago at the Great Confrontation; they were unhealing wounds in that they were natural things, things that time had been solidly denied right to do to the lives living under the banner of the Flux.
“The nobility of his gesture is noted, emissary.” Dorin replied dryly. She could not understand the futility of such a statement, but it was his choice to make; the Ascendancy did not guide the Union, and so the two were free to treat each other as they wish. She took long pauses now between her words as she calculated and considered and dreaded the end results. Perhaps she could focus their strikes on the rebellious territories in the Union; the majority of the casualties would then not belong to the Emperor’s own forces, but to those who opposed him. Besides, she mused privately, if our last stabs are at the Nakai, then they will be good stabs, well placed stabs…
“I advised the Emperor that I would communicate the entirety of his proposal to you, Prime Admiral. I have done so now.” Deixis cleared his throat, then fell silent. Dorin’s chamber was dimly lit, as it always was, but holographic representations of the cosmos drifted between them, and as Dorin moved away from Deixis into the dark, it was like watching gods tread the heavens; each step passed billions of lives, and it was difficult not to envision fates being crushed underfoot by Dorin’s weathered strides.
“He sincerely thinks we can negotiate?” She inquired softly over her shoulder as she summoned into the room projections of the ship’s theoretical coordinates en route to their targets. Less than forty minutes remained until they would begin to simultaneously enter FSEMCE range of their targets, and the clouds of dots rallied slowly towards their ultimate destinations.
“So he expressed to me, Prime Admiral. He is mostly accurate in describing the costs this will take on us.” Deixis replied diligently. “He furthermore vows his forces would follow us across the heavens to avenge the dead-“
She turned back towards Deixis, her weathered face hardened by the pale light of millions of stars. “He is bold to presume that the survivors of an attack he could have avoided, dwelling in a union already becoming shattered by civil war, would be in a position to threaten us. He rejects our offer of mercy and instead chooses to issue ultimatums to us?”
Deixis said nothing in response, but bowed slightly. “I shall communicate your decision to-“
“If he can see the vague outlines of the future as he claims,” Dorin said with a blank expression covering her eyes, “then he already knows we can’t do that. We need not waste more breath on talking now. Talking is what brought us to this point…and I dare say talking more won’t bring us back any better.”
“We don’t stand to lose too much by talking to the Centum at this point.” Deixis proposed cautiously. “If we are to destroy them either way it would aide our relations with the Union if we could demonstrate the futility of the attempt of coexistence. The Emperor sincerely does not understand the precariousness of our position.” It was an odd statement from him, and Dorin frowned in confusion at it.
“I was rather certain you understood the consequences of our last effort at diplomacy with them, emissary. We may have nothing to lose, but we certainly have nothing worth gaining. Our people cannot survive as a part of a universe that reacts to our discovery with promises of extinction. We must do unto them before they can do unto us.”
Deixis hesitated, and Dorin noticed this. She hesitates too, and it makes since to: this is a turning point. This is one of those fine and rare little moments where all things hinge on what happens between the course of a few heartbeats and a few sets of lungs.
“We are so old we no longer know our age, Deixis. We’ve watched the universe wither away into dead stars and then started freshly over again and again. Eternities like days. You really think I would accept the title as the woman who led her civilization to its downfall?”
The emissary shook his head slowly. “A move that will cost us half of our civilization is tantamount to that. With all due respect, we don’t have the strength.”
Dorin’s fingertips brushed along the dagger’s scabbard, which hung from her belt loosely. It was cold to the touch, and she looked back at Deixis with eyes of equal temperature.
“I have read sayings from the other races saying that it is better to die young than to waste away. I think they’re right.”
“The Emperor strongly advocates a cease fire-“
“—Deixis, have you gone soft?” Dorin asked abruptly, cutting the emissary’s words short. “A cease fire? A cease fire? He wants parity, not peace. We spoke in person once, Deixis; the Emperor demanded me to explain why he should prevent the downfall of our race then when I approached him. They do not want peace. They want security…and I want security more than they do if they’re not willing to face the furies of the hour.”
“He is a man of his word-“ Deixis protested, but Dorin raised her hand to silence him, and so she delivered the furies of the hour.
“The Centum aligns themselves against us and with our enemies, and the friends of our enemies talk of cease fires. This galaxy conspires against us, and it has poisoned your mind with talks of peace and negotiations!” Dorin pointed aggressively at Deixis, her eyes strangely calm as the passion brought by hope and fear colliding poured from her tongue. “Emissary… you may turn your back on our people’s heritage, on our dedication, and on our calling, but I never shall!”
--oOo—
---The Immortal Empire has authorized deployment of the AC-W system at our discretion, Prime Admiral. ---
Emissary Dalyth’s words were presented in the Heraldic text and floated silently through the darkened chamber.
---The overlord is enthusiastic to test our project in combat, but has insisted that it is delivered by an Immortal Empire vessel. They declared war on him just as much as they declared war on us.---
A thin grin of understanding crossed over Dorin’s face. The overlord leapt at the thought of combat, and he would certainly have it in the coming days. Dorin began to thank Dalyth for her ever exceptional service when Dalyth’s words resumed their appearance.
---General Pallam asked me if I had yet notified the Overlord of your intent for the galaxy at large. I have still not received authorization from you to do so, and I am curious as to the cause for your delay in this.---
The words floated through the air without any real connotation of tone, but a quiet sense of alarm-likely drowned out by the larger senses of alarm that pervaded all things at this point-likely became evident.
“I have not authorized that disclosure as yet-“ Dorin began, before more Heraldic text shimmered into existence.
---Do you intend to tell them?---
“Our actions against other do not concern-“
---The ramifications---
“-do not concern them, emissary.” Dorin said forcefully as more words appeared around her.
---We will be hard pressed to fulfill our arrangement with them if our civilization no longer exists.---
“That is quite enough emissary!” Dorin shouted abruptly. The words drifting through the air around her fell out of sight for a moment as Dorin continued.
“We preserve them. The containment barrier will keep signals from reaching them, and CABAL will take care of the rest. The occupiers will be cut off from home, and they will be destroyed in turn.” Each sentence from Dorin was incredibly forceful, and she chained them together quite firmly. “I-“
---They do not deserve the hand you are about to deal.---
--oOo—
The point of the matter was that there was one key difference in the way Dorin saw the galaxy in comparison to her emissaries: she saw herself as a failure. Her entire civilization had entrusted her to keep them safe from discovery, and now at this hour, she had failed. The SSC would tell others, and it was inevitable that knowledge would spread; worse yet, it was all from her decision to try and interact diplomatically with them.
She faced the choice of two fates here: lead her civilization into oblivion by fire, or oblivion by reality. The Ascendancy, by its very nature, would not survive in the open. Once it became more common knowledge that fates were being manipulated by people they couldn’t see, and once common knowledge became accepted, then the Ascendancy would fall apart.
Death was a preferable alternative to discovery, but death could come anyway. For all of the treason that Deixis spewed from his mouth, he had repeated something that had been coming upon her mind with unfortunate frequency these past few days: her civilization could not afford to lose itself in the fire. They had not persisted this long to burn themselves to ashes.
--oOo—
“Prime Admiral Dorin wishes for me to convey her strong urgency in advising that you take precautions to preserve your union from collateral damages.” Emissary Deixis began, his recording flickering in and out of the nearly empty chamber in proper spectral form. “The Centum has promised us our total and entire annihilation, and it is a war that shall surely be prosecuted to their fullest capacity to do so. Pertaining to your proposal for negotiations, the Prime Admiral desires that I express her sincere regret that such activities are not possible at this time. As we cannot compromise on our secrecy or on our policy of action towards the spread of knowledge of our existence, there are no points we find meriting discussion. We have been threatened with extinction, and so we shall respond accordingly.”
Yet in the darkness of space as peace was refused, peace reigned regardless. Silence, after all, is indicative of peace; there are no screams of alarm in a peaceful house. While the specter of cosmic Armageddon still loomed large upon the timelines, the point where the FSEMCEs should have begun dropping stars and ships alike came and went silently. Lives continued, unaware that they had at earlier hours been slated for extermination by forces beyond their comprehension.
In the Golden Expanse, shapes moved in the dark. The Ascendancy moved in many directions; emissaries were instructed to deliver requests, and planetary transports continued to haul worlds. In the dark depths of men’s hearts, a certain similarity could be constrained with these movements. Emotions and ships were one in nature now, and they shifted and ebbed on cosmic winds of hope and fear.
Elsewhere, strange men without pasts future boarded various trampships and freighters and began making varied ports of call; names changed, ships changed, but slowly and methodically, they began to converge towards a few select points, all carrying the same briefcases by their sides.
--oOo—