RolePlayGateway™

A flyer flutters in the breeze on some unknown world. It reads as following.


Omniversal Market Convention

Free Market at it's finest, bring the family and participate in the grand system that all obey.

Come on come all, to the OMC, a place were all business are welcome to trade and peddle their wares to the various empires of the universe. All is welcome, no restraints at all. If you deal in weapons, fine; if you deal in slaves, a-okay; children’s toy, super; toy weapons made by child slaves, all the better. All economic entities are welcome, just stop on by at the Vada system.

A rather cute ambiguous mascot is seen holding a wad of ambiguous money with a thumbs up

*****

Vada system:

Millions of ships descend on the large terran planet that solely occupies the system of Vada. On the planet, millions of business set up booths in a massive complex that spans nearly an entire continent.

*****

On the edge of the system, an explosion of energy is seen, followed by a large cargo ship with the AP logo on it.

The Technocracy flashed-messaged the convention staff, saying, Communism and Autofabricators are the future.

They would not be attending.

Trantor's massive Commercial Fleet had set up weeks ago, the massive fleet of ships with military demonstrators, maps, weapons, civilian goods, transforming equipment, magical artifacts, and other items for all sorts of travelers were there. Ryand himself had made a short appearance, the man shaking hands before he went back to Trantor's core region. This was added by the Grand Media tour, as media companies hawked movies, recordings, plays, old style books, it was huge. Massive Profit would be made here.

In space, the temporary space station, a converted City section of a New Macross ship stood, broadcasting exclusive Trantor goods, while free shuttles flew every 15 minuets from ground to orbit.

The Technocracy was at least half right, every manufacturer at the convention was useing autofabricators. Thanks to the free market, old style production methods had been driven out by the extreamly low cost of good produced by autofabricators. The only cost was attributed to the overhead for shipping, intial cost of the autofabricators, and taxes and what not. Of course though, companies were given contracts not by the price they would sell at, but by the number of units of goods they could produce. Those companies who could provide a high number of units in a given time were awarded the contracts. One of the front runners of these was the Automatis Partonus, who was selling leases to their facotries. Many of the governments, factions, and other manufactures here were buying up production time from the AP like they were going out of style. Since the AP had no use for currency with in their own empire, they stored the currancy for use when trading with other entities, and even in fact had opened up a bank since machines were impecible counters and were very honest. The AP by the time the convention was done, will be well know through out the universe.

*****

Trantor Spacestation: Vada orbit

A small floatng orb with tentical dangling down was zooming through the Trantor goods section and heading to the technology section. The AP was not just here to sell but to also to purchase new technology. The probe stopped by one of the technology boths, hanging there waiting for it's turn to talk to a representative.

A woman stood aware, smiling at the AP representative, asking him, "Hi Hi! I'm Ander Version Ka, and I wanted to say hello and welcome to the Trantor Space Temporary Colony, or TSTC, and what would be interested in buying!" She was curious to hear what the probe wanted, as she prepared a basic display for the being's perusal. "We have everything from weapons to alien DNA samples, all here, all on Sale, discounted for large buyers and small personal purchases!

There were all sorts of goods on display, from speeders to massive cruisers, all with various discounts and packaged deals.

As the day went by a new face showed itself in the marketplace ready to start his shop. It was the first time a member of his species had decided to venture outside their planet to this Veroose's knowledge. Normally his species were incredibly xenophobic and never ventured off-world. But this one was different. This Veroose saw the potential in his planet's unique export. Usually whenever someone visited the Veroose homeworld of Helior in the Helios system it was to trade food, supplies and weapons which was rare seeing as Helior was essentially a frozen ball of ice with a tropical ring around the equator. The Veroose usually kept this particular commodity an extremely precious secret. This commodity was known as Phoze.

It was in its purest form a green blob. But it possessed unique properties that to the Veroose's knowledge no other material had. It had the potential to activate physical mutations in living organisms. The mutations were unpredictable and the variations for each species was different. That is what it had done to the Veroose who over the days of first being exposed to it began to develop the ability to replicate any other life form's appearance. Over the years they were able to perform this so well that now they could replicate it down to the genetic level. So fingerprints, retinas and footprints were all copied. The only thing that could tip off anyone else would be if the Veroose had a different personality. But today this Veroose was in its original form. This original form was a humanoid with see-through green skin and tissue. The only thing that wasn't see through were the bones and the face. The face had two blue eyes and a mouth but no nose, ears or hair.

Unfortunately what this particular Veroose would not tell his customers was that if administered improperly or in the wrong doses Phoze could destroy the cellular structure of the patient and ultimately kill him. But Sern did not want his sales to drop so he kept it to himself. He had set up a stand a few days earlier on the planet's surface in preparation for the Omniversal Market Convention. Just now he had finished putting up advertisement banners for his stand and was ready to sell. He stood in his stand and waited for anyone to show up. To drum up customers he began to say "Phoze the revolutionary new product from Helior. It can make you harder, better, faster or stronger even. It will dramatically change your life. I am so confidant in it that I will guarantee to you or your money back that something completely unexpected and new will occur in your future with Phoze.

"I have come to negotiate more than the sales of goods," the probe spoke through a small membrane on the front of the orb that fluctuated in and out like a speaker. "I wish to speak with a person who is responsable for buisness agreements between economic entities, from my databanks, it seems to this unit that you are just a sales associate, is this unit wrong?" the probe spoke in a warm singsong tone.

****

An AP probe stopped by the Phoze vendor. There were actualy millions of these probes floating about OMC, negotiating various deals and what not. "I would like to purchase a small amount of this, Phoze, how much?" the AP probe asked.

As Sern was spouting out his sales pitch he seemed to not be drawing up many customers. He began to grow discouraged and was wondering if he would ever sell some of his stock. It seemed that no one wanted his revolutionary new product. That made him a little sad. But then it began to look that his prospects might change. An AP probe floated down to his stall and asked him how much his product was worth. "Well we have varying amounts of Phoze available and the prices vary. Here is an example of each size." Sern bent down and got a display stand showcasing various cylindrical containers which contained various amounts of Phoze. There were five containers. The first one contained a tiny amount of Phoze. It was small enough to fit in his palm. The second one was a bit bigger but was around the size of his hand and could fit on a utility belt.

The third one was the length the end of his hand to his elbow. The fourth one was the length of his arm and the last one was a huge container that was the length of hid legs. He then motioned to the varying sizes on display and said "These are the amounts of Phoze I have for sale. Which amount do you want to purchase?" He then folded his hands in front of him and waited for the probe's response.

There was a large sonic boom echoing through the planet as a large Azerian Warship warped into normal-space. It's shadow covered the sun for an extended amount of time as hit hovered over the markets, stalls, and buildings the covered this system.
"This is Azerian Command AA-Z34, Hanahukalula. Requesting to dock." The Navigational Officer (NO) stated through the interplanetary radio.
The engines started to pulse as it sped up over the market, releasing the shadow once covering it's people.

"Please proceed to docking arm A23-Beta," the traffic controler in the OCM Traffic Control Station in orbit above the planet said. The location and docking protocals were transfered as well.

*****

"I wish to purchase a small amount for study, then I will come back with the final order," the probe responded to the salesmen.

"Confirmation codes are received, preparing to dock. Standby for ground forces to birth."
Commander Kalahanaluha switched off the communication array, turning towards the NO.
"Are you sure about this? There could be hostilities."
NO Larakahana responded in a calming and gentle voice as she stood up from her pod.
"Of course, commander."
Kalahanaluha grunted.
"Very well."

***

As the ship docked in the over-head port, it's hatches flew open. Out came 10 Azerian Troopers, their gray skin completely covered in white-platted armor, and there heads fitted with a matching helmet and visor. In their hands was H2-MAR Rifles, just in case.
One of the soldiers stood forward, signaled the others and waited for the reception.

There was no reception, no one to greet them, no hostiles to try and kill them. The OMC prized it's self on being neutral, every one was welcome and no one was turned away. Only the free market would determin if they were wanted or not.

The Azerians were left on their own to figure their way to where hey need to go. Of course there were helpfull reception AI's every where.

The Azerians were disappointed at the lack of service. They stood there, motionless for a good 10k (Around 20 minutes) before they showed any sign of movement. The officer touched his helmet, activating a miniature holo-deck within the visor.
"Commander." he let out a grunt. "Commander, there is no one here."
"What!?" The commander hissed out. "a lack of support, hostilities?"
"Or a trap, we will be on guard."
"Do you think... the Trantor?"
"Doubt it, my-superior." he switched off the holo-deck and signaled the other troops.
"Switch on translators and move out! No hostile fire!"
"Yes, my-superior!" The seven remaining troops all yelled out at the same time before the officer signaled them again.
They proceeded through the emergency-locks and down the port's halls. On guard, as always.

Nearly evey kind of being was heading down the halls one way, towards the shuttle service of the station. From there they would be taken down to the various complexes that held all the bazaars.

Notice that the Azerians were some what confused, the nearest reception AI appeared next to them. "Welcome to the Omniversal Market Convention, I'm Reception AI OO-23, it looks as if you are in need of assistance, how may I help you," the hologram spoke in a calm voice.

[quote="Conquerer_Man"]"I have come to negotiate more than the sales of goods," the probe spoke through a small membrane on the front of the orb that fluctuated in and out like a speaker. "I wish to speak with a person who is responsable for buisness agreements between economic entities, from my databanks, it seems to this unit that you are just a sales associate, is this unit wrong?" the probe spoke in a warm singsong tone.

****

"The woman smiled, as her boss, a Motoko Version A walked out, saying, "I am ready to sign treaties between Trantor and other empires, as well as negotiate large scale contracts, shall we come into my officer," she said, pointing to her own small office, a glorified trailer.

A Trantor spy on the ground, disguised as a assistant to the native government took watch, noting the ship's location. "Fleet command will eliminate it when it leaves," she said mentally, "but we are on a too Neutral world to just assault them. Watch them for future reasons..." She then smiled, looking at the Azerians, as she fell competently into character.

As the probe spoke about the amount of Phoze that he wanted. Sern nodded an took out the smallest cylindrical palm-sized container and handed it to the probe. "For the smallest container a measly 50 credits for the mighty AP. He the price is negotiable but I would recommend that you take the offer as is in case someone gives me a better offer." He then waited for th probe to respond to his offer. If the probe from the AP accepted his Phoze and the AP liked it he could become the only supplier to anyone. He might even be able to start a monopoly on the product. He could make a fortune.

The probe followed the Motoko version A. Its tenticals twitched, just a systems diagnostics though it sort of added personality and humanized the probe. As soon as they were in the 'office' of the Motoko version A, the probe projected a hologram of a huminiod being. Its 'skin', if you could call it that, was a smooth metalic colored surface. "I am unit 3257/29-P, one of the few precurrsor constructs and I am the currant AI in charge of this 'expidetion', I wish to be here physicly, but pressing matters keep me here on A1," the hologram spoke in a statesmen like tone.

OOC: Sorry for the long wait.

The Azerians jumped at the sight of the hologram. They rose their weapons for a brief moment as they looked at the low-opacity creature creating them.
"We are the Azerians of the Imperial Arm 113-4B." The officer greeted the being in a robotic voice, a side effect of using a language-translator. "We are here as an act of intergalactic diplomacy and unity." he paused for a brief moment. "We brought gifts."
The officer backed up to reveal two troops behind him, they both held storage-packs in their arms, the rifles on their hips.
The officer signaled them to open the packs, which they did.
Inside these white alloy-plastic containers was a variety of goods; data-disks, food containers, and max-accelerator technology, the bases behind Azerian weaponry.

"If you wish to sell you wares, you will need to fill out a Seller's citificate, so we may have a record of you participation," the AI said noting the objects. A rectangular tablet appeared in the hands of the AI. "Here, please sign this and fill out what it is you are selling," the AI said, putting the holographic tablet infront of the Azerian Officer.

The Azerians had a confused look on their faces, covered by their visors, however.
"Perhaps you misunderstand our motives." The officer spoke slowly, as if his translator wasn't active. "These are gifts, they are free."
The troopers holding the containers approached the hologram, holding the goods out in front of them.
"Gifts, yes?" Talking in a tone that the hologram could clearly understand.

Two of the Azerian troopers looked around the room and noticed a variety of sentient races and vast amounts of technologies and goods. There were quite a few more races in this galaxy than the Azerians previously suspected. They all cooperated together, talked together, and lived together. Perhaps there was hope for this galaxy after all, perhaps there was hope for unity, but could even this galaxy of joint species stand up to Oblivion?