by Max Barry

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Mortasheen wrote:

The portal fizzled behind the Doomboros. Whatever had given it brief life, has seemingly given out.

It was now left alone, in a dark, massive chamber, with numerous catwalks from the above, wiring and metallic structures all interconnecting to the now defunct portal. Wherever it was now, it was stuck there. Aside from that, there was nothing of interest to the creature, unless it wished to admire some of the glyphs and symbols, though it was written in a language long extinct.
As far as places to go, there were a grand total of one way to exit the room. One leading straight forwards, another leading to the right. The doorway leading forwards from the portal appeared to be much wider and it led up to a slight incline leading to a larger chamber with multiple rooms and ramps. Each doorframe appeared to be lit by a low, warm green light, pulsating from one end to the other as if it were trying to power something, or activate, but couldn't.
There were small hatchways in the ground, indicating that all or, most doors in the facility, from being defunct for so long, were left unlocked. Most of the facility would be traversal going forwards.

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Deep into the Facility

The Xiegnath ground team had already secured the entrance to the facility, and a party of a dozen soldiers began sweeping through the facility. It was a massive, labyrinthine complex, and they had much ground to cover.
They had been there for hours already, searching and digging through the facility for any sign of...Anything.
Each Xiegnath soldier was a tall, powerful being, standing at a height of 8 feet tall and donning a powered metallic suit over their elephantine bodies. Their armor ignored traditional camouflage conventions in favor of being an elegant, yet intimidating dark red primary and golden secondary color. Their four eye-sockets in their masks glowed a bright blue with the activation of their night-vision, allowing them to see through the dark, metallic caverns. It was a massive facility, and tensions were already high. They were itching for something- anything- to shoot at. Their heavy footsteps echoed throughout the halls near and around them as they searched the facility.
Then it happened. They saw as a bolt of energy shot through the facility around the time of the portal's activation. They tightly gripped their weapons and fanned out, weapons aimed in all directions. The team leader let out a low, guttural, reverberation, akin to a chuckle from his snout. "Lorek, gleken tharan'ag morvok!" (I believed today would be boring!) it resounded to its squadmates.
The team spread out to cover more ground, each group consisting of three, for four different teams that would be searching the facility.

For now, the creature and these search parties were quite the distance, though it may not be long before one or the other intercepted.

The Saturnian System wrote:

Sean kept his eyes on the road, and Padraig nodded to The Wanderer and listened close. He seemed...Especially quiet after he made mention of wanting to join Radi Mesti, but kept quiet until he was finished. He gave Sean a glance, before looking back to The Wanderer, "Well, its for the best that ya ended up here and not in Radi Mesti's ranks, lad." He replied solemnly. "Radi Mesti did a good thing there, but Radi Mesti does a lot more unfortunate things than good. Other than the few good things they do, fightin' to free the slaves and all? They fight to kill anyone who is not a human being." He said, clarifying the kind of people they are. "Radi Mesti claims they're fightin' for us, when really, they're just terrorists. Maybe not officially, but their kind isn't welcome around here. Careful who ya decide to tell that you wanted to join 'em. Some wouldn't appreciate it so kindly, not especially them long-eared folks." He warned politely.

"The fortunate thing is, the Confederacy accepts refugees from the Imperium. All ye need to do is tell 'em that you're from Yulvano Dynasty and they'll try to integrate ya in the colony ya wound up. Provide ya directions, money for housin', fling employers your way." Sean piped up as he continued to drive, after Padraig was done giving his explanation.
"You'll be safer here, I can tell ya that much. Padraig here and I are part of the system's militia ground force. We rarely get called up for anythin' beyond taking inventory and trainin'. Them imperial slave-hunters wouldn't tread on our system, not while we're part of the Confederacy. Last thing them cowards want is a war."
Padraig chuckled, "Ya can take that from Sean. He fought in the Av'ii Wars. He fought them imperials personally." He smirked.
Sean quietly checked his mirrors as he continued driving, continuing his way for the office He was relatively quiet after that statement.

Sol Nations wrote:

The Doomboros turned around to see the portal behind it fizzling. Now, as far as it was aware, it had absolutely no way to get home.

That’d sure be a load off.

For a moment, with nothing around it but dust and objects of ages past, it felt content. Perhaps even something approaching comfortable— at least enough so that it exited the room.

And then, as it did so, it heard the faint sounds of something approaching. Of stomping, of buzzing weaponry, whirring servos. And it once again felt nothing but utter terror.

The skeletal behemoth backed itself against the nearest wall, and covered its head with its hands as it produced a sound that, to a human, might’ve been mistaken for the whining of a scared dog— particularly a smaller dog, like a chihuahua.

As it was once again consumed with fear untold, its empathetic field got to work.

Sol Nations wrote:

He looked at Padraig and Sean, and smiled, “Thank you for your help, I really appreciate it. I’m sorry for being so clueless about Radi Mesti, I’ve been living in the dark for so long."

The Saturnian System wrote:She folded her arms, listening intently. She appeared more intrigued than concerned. "It sounds amicable. What type of biological and technological data would you like to receive?"

The diplomat appears more tense, he snaps his fingers. "With regards to the patent you mentioned, I'd like to suggest our nation and your company establish legal ties, allowing patents and copyright from your company to be recognized and protected in our nation. Which would hopefully lead to future economic and scientific opportunities."

“Hmmmm…” Professor Weaponry mutters, scratching her chin. “A moment, if you’d be so kind.”

With that, the Parasol Corporation’s members step away from the table, entering what might be loosely called a group huddle.

You guys, an entire nation wants legal ties to our think-tank! This is so exciting! And… and I also don’t know how we’re gonna make that kind of deal. None of us are particularly good with paperwork.”

“Well, hehe, that’s what we engineered Clinky, Shrinky, and Blinky for, yes? I could see about, ho-ho, bringing one of them over to secure the deal.”

“That’s right! If anyone could handle that, it’d be a spexecutor. Or worse, three! Er… worse for them, I mean. Great for us.”

“Triple trouble? Or merely one?”

“Eh, I schay we only bring over one of ‘em. A schpexecutor’s neural wetware is a fearschome thing— makesch ‘em asch neurotic asch they are analytical.”

“Yeah, I gotta agree with Webster here; catching Clinky, Shrinky or Blinky alone… even in their calmer moments, the excessive bureaucrat-speech is still agitating enough to screw up the rest of my day if it goes on too long. Can’t imagine burdening our new allies with that sort of thing.”

“Yeah… Yeah, you’re prolly right. So what kind of data should we ask for?”

“I’ll handle that, hehehe, and the rest of the talking as well. Let’s return back to our friends, shall we? HA!

“A’ight. Good huddle, team!”

With that, the think-tank moves back to their collective seats, with Doctor Melancholy stiffly leaning forward.

“We would like to formally accept, heh, your offer to establish legal ties between us. However, as none of us present are particularly skilled in administrative matters, we would like to request, hee-hee-hee, that all such legal proceedings be done through a highly competent gengineered representative.”

“As for the neuro-wordifier and bio printer technologies, we— ha-ha-HA-ha-HAAAAAAA!… ahem. Er, sorry about that; we would like to request all present biological and historical data you may have concerning Earth’s pre-cataclysm state in exchange. As well, if you, heeeeh, possess information regarding other known nations or independent colonies within or around the Solar System, we would be willing to pay you for such vital info with, hohoho, further data or services of our own— information on genetic modification techniques, a custom bio-organism or two… we could even just fully sequence your species’ genome, if you wanted.”

Mortasheen wrote:

"Of course, all that information will be yours. And if I may ask, when will the representative arrive?" The diplomat asked.

"Thank you for the offers, but may we save the payback for later?"She inquires

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