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"Alright, let's go! Follow me!"
Heidrun would then begin taking Penny on a tour through Arcburn, showing her various important landmarks.
"There's a lot of history here, both from before and after we crashed here. It's created this interesting mix of cultures."
“So...did you ever hear back from your home planet after the crash? Or ever go back there?”
New Raleigh, OLN
Janurary 12th, 2152
It was a cold, bustling day at New Raleigh-Durham airport. Ariana and her personnel were on the tarmac, waiting for the arrival of the PretannianPrime Minister. Ariana dawned a light blue wool coat over her typical blazer and dress pants. She wore studded ankle boots as well as an attempt to keep warm. On her head, she wore ear muffs, which while not the most professional-looking, she felt she desperately needed. Despite all of this she was shivering like no tomorrow. She wishes they could've brought heaters to make this easier for everyone.
She popped an anti-acid preemptively, though nowadays she's been so used to meeting with leaders that nervous burps weren't even much of an issue anymore. Regardless she had to be safe. While waiting for the plane to arrive, Ariana had been thinking long and hard about what her goals would be once she left office. She was mostly focused on staying in the world of Carolinian politics regardless of the position's notoriety. After all, she had already reached the top.
It hurt her heart, knowing this was the last year of her presidency. She had been keeping up with the politicians who were desperately trying to replace her. Ironically enough, there wasn't a lot of criticism from even her opposing parties, spare for the controversial meet with 
The Nippon Teikoku, the construction of Aerbourne, and her administration's lack of will towards entering wars to fight alongside Carolinian allies.
Wars. New Pretannia had just gotten out of a war, right? Alongside Cymiopolis. Ariana didn't think it made sense to enter a war so late into her presidency, but of course, people would have their opinions regardless of their merit. Still, she wondered if not supporting PAZ members in a war she found to be morally ambiguous would leave a sour taste in the Prime Minister's mouth. She'd certainly hope not.
The Northern New Raleigh orchestra had been commissioned to play the Pretannian anthem once they arrived. They were setting up their instruments, the flags of both New Pretannia and the New United Carolinas flying above them in temporary tall flagpoles. Military personnel from Fort Bragg itself were lined up in "at ease" positions, waiting for their chance to salute and escort the two leaders. Local media was already rolling up in their news vans and helicopters. Hidden government snipers were keeping watch on where the two leaders would be meeting, as well as in general ensuring the general area was secure. Everything was set up, it was just about the wait.
And sure enough, their wait was over. Government personnel began telling everyone to ready up as the Pretannian jet rolled down the taxiway. Has customary, the plane was sprayed by airport firetrucks via Water Salute, to welcome the foreign leader. The massive jet dawned the official colors of the nation, with "The Republic of Pretannia" painted beautiful along the side. It was a gorgeous livery, she had to admit. The tug pulled the plane to a precise stop right in front of the rug on which the leaders would meet.
In the NUC, hugs were common when having an arranged meeting with someone, though Ariana wondered if it was appropriate to hug a Pretannian under the same circumstances. Perhaps she shouldn't for the sake of cultural barriers.
A stair truck drove to the doors and linked with the side of the jet. The orchestra readied their instruments, and the soldiers were ordered to stand at attention by their Platoon leader.
Once the door opened, Ariana stood up from her seat and walked to the carpet. The orchestra played the anthem as Prime Minister Anna West emerged from the cabin. She was quite beautiful, Ariana had to admit. But she noticed the same nervous look in her eyes, even if it was faint. Ariana resonated with that. Maybe a hug was necessary.
As the Prime Minister's escorts walked her down the stairs, Ariana began walking to the other end of the long rug. Confidently, yet warmly. A walk that said "we mean business."
PM West began walking down as well, the soldiers saluting one by one as she passed them. Once the two women met in the middle, Ariana gave a smile.
"Prime Minister Anna West. As the President of the New united carolinas, I humbly welcome you to our home." Ariana said, sticking out her gloved hand for a handshake, which the Prime Minister took. After she took it, Ariana gave Ana a brief, yet welcoming hug.
Morehead City, OBX
January 10, 2152
Courtney Levingston was in her hometown of Morehead City, celebrating at a party with Carolinian Diplomats for countries all across the world. Although practically everyone was drinking, Courtney was patiently waiting for a call. A call she had been waiting for since she sent out the letters to Pretannia and The republic of ascona on behalf of Ariana Thompson. Just because this was her last year on Ariana's cabinet doesn't mean she didn't want to take her job any less seriously.
She had to be sober when the call came. She told her assistants to call her the moment they got a response. It was currently 6:39 pm. She had a gut feeling it would be coming any time soon.
Ascona was an interesting nation to Courtney. She had grown up learning about how the Carolinas and Ascona were essentially born from the same nation, yet diverged into radically different paths. While the NUC moved on from the days of the United States, while also adopting some American customs and preserving its historical importance to the country, Ascona completely did away with that identity. The thought of that Courtney. While a lot of Carolinians, particularly in the southern part of the nation, viewed Asconans as their stuck-up neighbors, many people living in the bordering countries and slightly further, viewed them as reasonable people.
In the Outerbanks, where Courtney grew up, she could completely understand the Asconans' drive to be culturally unique, even though in OBX's case, it was a lot less drastic. So that's why she took this so seriously, even though she personally didn't meet with the leaders themselves. Nation's are run by people. And she understood people.
Her phone began to ring. Munching on a cheese square, she pulled her phone out of her purse. She nearly spits her food when she saw the number. It was her assistant. Quickly she looked around, not sure where to go in this convention center. But eventually, she rushed to the bathroom trying to answer her phone before it automatically hung up.
Once she found herself in the quiet bathroom, the only being heard faintly, she answered the phone.
"Mark? Hello?" she asked.
"Good evening Ms.Levingston. Just letting you know that Ascona has responded to our letter. They've agreed to meet with Ariana so long as it's in Albany. Though we can choose the time." Mark said.
"Can I see the letter?"
"Of course ma'am. We've already scanned the letter and sent it to your email in the form of a PDF. The Queen has really nice handwrit-"
"You said the queen herself wrote the letter?"
"Why, yes. Apparently, the letter reached the Queen herself, and she felt the need to personally respond."
Courtney's heart skipped a beat. Another important document signed by a foreign leader. Yes! This was definitely going into the national archive.
"Thank you, Mark. I'll be on the train to New Raleigh at around... 7:00 am-ish. We can discuss the details later, but I'm definitely thinking we should hold the meeting in early February." Courtney said, checking her makeup in the bathroom mirror. Her eye liner needed to be reapplied.
"Of course Ms. Levingston," Mark said. "I believe President Thompson is free on February 12th. I'll tell the President, her staff, etc. We can mail a response to Ascona when you get back."
"Thank you Mark. You're the best."
"Anytime Ms.Levingston. Is that all?"
"That's all."
"Alright, enjoy your evening."
"You too Mark."
She hung up, happy as hell. Another diplomatic catch indeed. But now came the tricky part. Ariana had to somehow... win Ascona's trust in the Carolinas, a trust Courtney knew would be nonexistent.
Achipel, Cymiopolis, Jakkonia, and The Nippon Teikoku
SMUGGLERS IN THE DESERT pt. 2
AG-GADIR | Erimos, Luyten System | Cymiopolis
Marco once again peered through his binoculars from the camps perched spot on the Ag-Gardir rock formation. It would appear that after indulging themselves with some of the stolen ambrosia, the 3 large Scandinavian men who seemed to be in charge of the operation made their way back to their ship while their crew continued to siphon the blue dust from the desert floor. Once their cargo packs were filled, the ships once again turned on their cloaking feature and launched back into space.
Marco, Azdruba’al and Homilqart slept the night in their tents. After a quick breakfast, the camp was back up and they descended from the rock face. Ambrosia-concentration samples were taken and the trio made their way back to Ubon via camel-back. Once at the town’s CCE outpost, the samples were handed over to the lab for analysis. The men then quickly made it to the overseer’s office to inform him of the blatant violation of Cymiopolitan sovereignty.
A week later, Marco and his Erimoan companions were ordered to attend a meeting at the CCE headquarters in Nova Candia. Once there, they were directed into a conference room. Seated there was a handsome olive-skinned man who was on the phone. Marco immediately noticed he was neither Greek, nor Italian due to his accent. Once his call was done, the man stood up with a glass of win in hand and introduced himself.
“Gentlemen, allow to me introduce myself. I am Rafael Beltrán Fuentes, Head of the Mano Nero, the black ops division of the Cymiopolitan Intelligence Ministry,” he said after taking a sip from his glass, “Now tell me, what happened last week in desert.”
“Well sir, we were on a soil analysis mission near Ubon when we spotted a crew of Trirenian mercenaries stealing ambrosia from the Ag-Gadir Ambrosia Fields.” Marcus said timidly.
“Relax boy. You didn’t steal it now. Here. Have a glass to calm your nerves. Would two gentlemen also care to have some?”
After pooring 3 more glasses, Rafael continued: “Any idea how they slipped by undetected?”
“For one it seems like the Trirenians have developed some sort of cloaking device. They might have also turned of their tracking signals before approaching the Erimoan Control Zone, slipping past detection drones.”, Marcus said a bit more confidently.
“Well gentlemen, that is all I needed to know. You are free to go and need not worry. Intelligence will take care of things from here.”
As they would continue to progress down the pathway before them, now with Cezis seeming to take the lead ahead of him guiding him throughout the forested area around them in silence complete silence for around half of the way, eventually stopping abruptly and turning to face him either seeming to be curious or otherwise she would begin to speak as a result;
- | " Are your people beyond the barrier always this silent and devoid, besides should you have something to say you are welcomed to speak, thankfully I am no longer apart of my origins belonging to the warrior castes, but I do have one for you if you do not have one for myself; the birds you arrived within they are unusual to me " |
EXPEDITIONARY GROUP | 94 CET | FREISTAAT CETUS
A transmission is finally sent to the Ventuan ships: “Hello! Are you imperials? We haven’t met any people in a long time.”
(SIC to all)
We made transmission today. My social skills are pretty poor, but I think it conveys our want for first contact, without establishing us as a threat. I’d say that’s pretty good.
Darklighter responded to the transmission. “This is Captain Darklighter of the Alliance Navy. We are not Imperials. Are you part of the Imperial Order?”
"Oh, my bad. I've just had a lot to think about from this encounter already, so that's why I haven't said much. I swear we aren't all like this, this is more personal. I'm no diplomat, I admit."
Her curiosity about these "birds" was understandable, and he found it a bit funny that she referred to them as such, considering the Puffin naming scheme.
"They aren't actually birds, although they're named after them. Blame the guys who created them for that. They can do much of the same as a bird, although they do so under the behest of a pilot."
"No, and I'm glad we never reestablished contact. I hope they aren't looking for us, because if they are... then I don't want to imagine the consequences that could have for Earth, and for everyone out in space. Trust me, it'd be terrible."
“You sound almost fearful of them?”
"Yeah... I am. I've seen, and experienced, what they can do to anyone who stands against them. We... wouldn't survive."
“I see...all this time I assumed you were all just a representation of your home planet but...apparently I was wrong. Would they be a threat to the Alliance?”
Berlin Tegel Airport
The Chancellor and his security detail wait outside on the tarmac for Chancellor Lestrange’s plane to arrive. A car is parked nearby, ready to take both back to the capital.
"Probably. Maybe you'd be able to negotiate with them for a while, but eventually, they'd seek to subjugate you. They see themselves as heroes, peacekeepers, preventing some kind of great disaster through force. And with the tech the Alliance has... they'd want to make sure it's under their control."
- | " I see now of your faults, you aren't ao much as one to speak than you are one to think, this I understand also should it be of no major issue I would enjoy to get a closer look at the birds you arrived with, since you said in which they are controlled must mean they have an interior right?"
" And one more thing too, I will need the link back the uh, earpiece you call it from you, will still be able to hear us and speak like us it was and all of this was just a trial to see if it worked, I should have addressed that earlier. " |
“I see...is it alright if I relay this information back to New Szel?”
I suppose it depends on what you want to do first, surely you dont think it is going to be as easy as sparring against an android do you?" Hiei said
"Certainly, as long as the Alliance doesn't go looking for them."
“No, I would imagine you would have an easier time reacting to my movements...um...no offense of course.”
“I would imagine the Alliance is not looking towards war right now.” She paused for a moment as her eyes suddenly turned a light cyan before changing back. “There, it has been sent. Um...if I may ask...are these the same people that...took you away?”
Reaction is just the thing you should practice. I brought out the swords for this reason. I can react faster than you and strike faster than you. So i believe that because my capabilities are somewhat better than yours, then you would be able to utilize your incredible intellect and skills to better hone yourself. because i believe if you can react as fast as me, then my father doesnt stand a chance." Hiei seemed more talkative than when her and Raph first met, almost as if she had an emotional connection to the Kaptaeynian (i know i butchered that forgive me senpai XD)
Heidrun sighed.
"Yep, that's them. They saw me as a threat to their stability, for some reason, and they decided to force me into line."
“I’m sorry...and also for bringing it up again...”
Royal Colonial Police Headquarters of the city of Speranzia, Planet of Rosmerta, North Italian Colony of Belenos System, North italian union
It was a sunny and humid midday in Speranzia. The colonial capital was built near the Boreal Forest and the humid wind coming of from the weird alien trees was an usual event for the city in that time of Rosmerta's season.
The Headquarters of the Colonial Police were an impressive sight in the area. The white marble and the architecture of the big building was a far remembrance of the north italian past as a colonial power in africa.
In his office the Marshall Davide Juric was smoking his rosmerian cigar while casually looking at the holo-deck reports from the Motherland back on Earth. Unlike most of the colonial police he was born on mainland NIU from the Italo-Croatian state of Fiume-Rijeka. He missed his home. His job led him to great success but now he was a bit old for fancy action and was assigned as Colonial Police Chief in the far off colonies.
"F*ckin sh*thole" said Juric after spitting the consumed cigar.
*Knock on the door*
"Avanti!"
A young police officer entered the Office.
"What is it?" asked the Marshall.
The guy saluted him
"Maresciallo! We have news about the new secret society that is troubling the Colonies lately!"
Juric sighed. Since a couple of years there had been reports of a new Space-Mafia organization with terrorist connections known as Rosa Nera (Black Rose in italian). They were just a local smuggling force hidden in the thick rosmertian forests but lately they had started to grow and cause a lot of trouble.
"Again? It's the third time this week!"
"5 farmers dead in the woods Marshall. The Rosa Nera left its mark. We believe they were killed for not paying the pizzo"
Juric was angry. "That's it! Double the forces and put a curfew in all the neighborhood. I want more blitz more armies more f*cking personell!!"
Sometimes he wished he could be back on earth patrolling the clean streets of Fiume-Rijeka
“I have to admit I’ve never dueled against an android before...there’s always a first for something.”
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