Joran Davrell's Story

The car engine rumbled as the car gave off a jerky motion of getting into first gear, but the foot was firmly on the brakes. "I told you once already, I must get my information to Joran directly, calling on a phoneline will only enhance greater troubles. Doing it in person is far safer and yields better results. Good day gentlemen." 8191 replied to the request of remaining where he was. Time was short, too short for his liking.

Without another word he took his foot off the break and stomped on the gas, the car pulled away from the four men. The driver calm and collected in his manner. Other then being armored {and armed} out the wahzoo, 8191 was actually quite nice. And very battleready, and battlehardened for that matter.

Pulling up the gatehouse he pulled to a halt. When the guard came out 8191 said simply "Inform Mr Davrell his two o'clock is here. No delays. Time is short, the information is for his eyes only."

"I am sorry sir, but you will have to present some form of ID for me to check..." The guard quieted as 8191 held out disc no bigger then a small ultity disc. on it was written simply in Basic and UECOR clone codes. "Battleplan 1 of 7" The disc was completely blank. Ixas had the information on his hard drive hidden in his armor.

"I'd ask you if you speak .357, but I am guessing no, so instead I will ask if you speak Hemi ?" Seeing the guards look of pure horror 8191 smiled behind his helmet then pressed, "Good, so you go ahead and open the gate, Mr Davrell is expecting me." He knew the four he met already where on the job and by the time he made it to the gate Davrell had been informed of his arrival. The guard nodded, Pressing the key to open the gate he directed where Ixas was to park. since he was so armored, he was recommended to park in the staff lot instead of the visitors lot.

Once inside the fort, but not inside any of the buildings within the grounds persei. 8191 took careful note of the black SUVs not far away from the convoy that passed him. The last thing he wanted to tangle with was people on the target list, people he just knew the UECOR could run over in numbers and technology alone. He got out of the Dodge Challenger and shut the door. Going to the trunk he removed his sniper rifle. The DC17 Rifle System was interchangible, he transfered it from a DC17S sniper to a smaller DC17BR battlerifle design plus a longer stock. He placed it on a magnetic plate on his back. Then he took out a DC15A rifle and with it a few extra clips of ammo, perfect for his needs.

Lastly he removed two DC15P pistols and placed them on his hips. He was going in armed and readyu for a fight, but only if a fight was to occur. The last thing that was on the UECOR ARC Clone Commando's mind at that moment was fighting. When he was in fact there to save a important mans life. If things went south, he just wanted to be ready.

He then made for the main lobby enterence t othe main building. Not having the personal codes for his own use as of yet, he made use of the public entry station. Making the guard on duty slightly nervous but was pointed towards the elevators to the right side of the building. That meant the escape path went to the left upon exiting the elevators. But he was not planning an escape, no, he was planning on saving the life of an important man, a man who, 8191 hoped, was to be his next employer. With the information he had stored in a hardrive hidden in his armor, 8191 pretty much was sure he could win himself a good job with the right people.

The doors of the 'RIP' medical center flew open and a group of medical professionals crowded around a trolley loaded up with a six foot male baring dozens of scars and a thick electronic collar that was pulsing a bright red. "We need to get that thing off him, nurse." One of the females called. "We're not going to pull out the shank with that collar constricting his flesh like that."

"That's not our call, Doc. That's Mr. Davrell's." The other doctor replied, wheeling the injured prisoner into a corner and pulling a metal table close by, opening up a leather kit of surgical tools. "Plus, you know this freak would cut is into tiny shreds just to get out of here." The other doctor added.

"I didn't't sign up to let people die either. This guy still smiles and treats the guards with respect, you think he's that much of a freak?" The female doctor shouted, waving her arms. "Yeah, I do." "Well fuck you! I'm calling up Joran." The female hastily crossed over to a wall console and pulled a desk phone to her ear.

"Mr. Joran? We need you down at the Medical Center, 632 has got into another altercation at recess."

It was a cold winter night in the city of Van Leugen, the skies smoggy and glutted, the moon a pale sliver misting through the distant clouds. There was a light snowfall, the pattering flakes adding quiet layers of white to the already blanketed streetways bellow. Van Leugen had already seen two blizzards in the last month. The city was frozen to its roots.

Of course, none of this mattered to the attendees of the Western-Terra Parliamentary Debates. Nestled in the grand ball rooms of the Remmington Aramill Arts Atria, the opulent audiences of the latest electoral installment were enclosed from the cold and callous exterior of Van Leugen's harsh cityscape in the warmth and luxury of one of the city's finest accommodating penthouses and swankiest theatre centers.

As it was, the crowds were just beginning to take their seats after an hour of mingling and drinking. Though technically a formal, officiated event, the TNG had given full logistical and creative freedom to the various hosts of the many Parliamentary debates. Van Leugen had taken charge of the Western debates (more specifically, the Van Leaugen aristocracy) and no party was complete in Van Leugen without a little... sin. Drinks were served. Fine music played in the background. Gorgeous women in tempting dresses paraded around the grand ballrooms, flirting and talking with the various Leugen big-shots. Indeed, at first glance, the occasion would seem more of a classy party than a debate between electoral-hopefuls.

A large stage with four podiums was at the forefront of the audience. An older-looking man in a sharp suit ascended the stairs, microphone in hand.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he smiled, "my name is Joran Davrell, and it is my honor to be the host and moderator of this year's Western Parliamentary Debates." A smattering of applause followed. "Thank you. I'm very pleased to introduce to you the candidates for this year's parliamentary elections. Though they hail from various regions across Terra, they are united by the ideals of democracy, liberty and justice, the very same virtues that have guided the Terran National Government since its conception."

The NPA officer cleared his throat. "We have three candidates appearing before you today. Though they are not competing directly against one another, the viewpoints and ideas they espouse tonight will be broadcast across the globe. These are the Western debates; the chance for candidates from across the hemispheres to bare their political philosophies against their peers from other respective domestic regions. So, without too much further pomp, I will briefly introduce our candidates and then summon them up their podiums."

"First, hailing from over the ocean from Gonthar, we have Victor Vidal. A Leftist, Mr. Vidal has a rich history in media and is a formerly renown reporter and journalist for TerraCast. He supports a domestically-secure Terra, particularly in economic and educational matters. As far as diplomacy goes, Mr. Vidal leans more towards a diplomatically-isolated planet, believing that many of Terra's past intergalactic dealings have not been to her benefit. He believes that domestic affairs should be handled foremost, foreign affairs second. He is a staunch supporter of civil rights, and he is joined tonight by his secretary, whose name is ((WHATTHEFUCKSOKKAWHERESYOURFUCKINGSECRETARYHOLYSHITIWILLEATYOURLIMBS)), and what a lovely name it is."

The audience applauded.

"We find a stark opposite from Mr. Vidal in our very own Chloe Anne McGregor. Raised right here in Van Leugen, Ms. McGregor is a Center-Rightist who hopes to turn Terra's attention towards domestic threats to security, particularly the various terrorist and insurgent factions that plague the planet. She hopes to work closely with the various ministries of the Terran National Government and legitimize its administrative offshoots as best she can. Diplomatically, Ms. McGregor is particularly open-minded, favoring continuing relations and strengthened alliance with various intergalactic nations. She is joined tonight by her secretary, Ms. Sydney Forte."

Another round of applause.

"Last, but certainly not least, we have Mr. Rubano Malijin. A veteran Parliamentary Chairman, Mr. Malijin is a Center-Rightist who favors a strong domestic military and powerful economic reform. As the author of the Xenia Compromise, Mr. Malijin firmly believes in the power of intergalactic diplomacy, though he remains a strong advocate of Terran self-sufficiency and internal cultural authority. He is joined by his secretary Najia Okeke."

"Now, will the candidates please assume their positions at the podiums?"

The audience would rise to their feet and applaud the candidates as they took their seats.

Victor walked to his seat as he listened to the announcer speak. He had been studying his talking points all afternoon deciding on what he wanted to spend most of his time on in the debate and what areas he would attempt to avoid. He knew his strengths were in foregin relations so he planned to clarify his stance on what his position for Terra was.

For the most part Victor felt that this debate would be unlike the average debates and this posed an interesting event for him. This setting would serve to solidify the future. Victor though a firm believer in his values and his beliefs, also wanted to show the Terran people that he was capable of compromise. He knew that often political parties were seen to be dead set against one another but Victor believed that sometimes a necessary truth, he also wanted to portray a sense of bipartisanship.

As He walked onto the stage he waved to the audience before moving to his seat.

Chloe sat with her small entourage of people at a table situated slightly to the front and center of the room, close to the stage. Seated with her was her secratery, and a few Van Leugen big shots. Handshakes were exchanged amongst them, and Chloe sent a quick text message to an unknown, but clearly Aschen number.

"Alright, let's roll." She said, standing up from her seat and approaching the podium, taking her position behind the Podium, and checking the text of her phone one last time as it vibrated with a barely audible buzz.

"From: 877-(34)-4122-34221
Gotcha, I'll wire some cubits to you in the morning. Best of luck to you."

The phone was quickly pocketed, and Chloe placed both her hands on the podium, politely and quietly waiting. She offered a wave to the audience, many of whom were Van Leugen big shots here to support her. One could say she had the home field advantage.

After shaking the hand of his secretary, Rubano assumed his position at the podium. He easily towered over the other candidates, his imposing physique dwarfing his pulpit. Despite his daunting frame, Rubano remained as cheerful and warm as ever, smiling grandly at the audience and waiving.

Joran smiled as the candidates took his seats. "Welcome all. We'll begin immediately. I'm going to ask all of you a series of questions focused on highlighting your political philosophies and authoritative intentions should you take office. You will each be given a turn to answer these questions, uninterrupted. After each question, there will be a five-minute open response period during which you may freely expound upon your answers and critique and offer counter-arguments to your fellow candidate's answers. For the turn-response, we will proceed in the order in which I called you: Mr. Vidal, Ms. McGregor, Mr. Malijin. Once you've all answered, you are free to debate one another out of turn until I call the five minutes."

Joran removed a series of flashcards from his jacket. "Now then. The first question..." He smiled, "...and one that is very near to my heart..."

"What is your position on federal paranormal policy on Terra? Should supernaturals be forced to register with the state? Should formerly convicted paranormals who have completed their sentencing be given the same privileges as non-supernatural ex-convicts?"

Victor Smiled and and listened to the question. "I Believe this is a very important question but first let me say thank you for hosting this event I believe we can answer many of the questions that weigh on the public mind. Terra is so diverse and the issue arising from paranormal abilities is a tough one. Though there would be some benefit to the registration of paranormal's I feel that by forcing registration would be a firm violation of ones personal rights. Though I am in favor of offering an optional clause of identifying on a census record. "

" Convicts that have used their abilities to commit crimes on the other hand I feel need to be kept registered and classified as paranormal depending on the level of their crime. Though of course this information would need to be placed as classified to law enforcement only as to not harm the employment chances against these people. " When Victor Finished he looked to Chloe and nodded. "Ms. McGregor I'm sure you have some insights on this matter as well." He said kindly passing the theoretical torch onto her.

Chloe offered a soft and rather disarming smile to Victor. It was the same smile that her father often offered to people when he wanted to condescend or lull them into a false sense of security. It was the smile that perhaps said this politician didn't know her field, or was perhaps young and naieve.

The blonde thought for a few moments, a long silent pause as she considered her response to Victor's Proposition.

"Paranormals..." She thought to herself

"Mr. Vidal, I respectfully disagree." Were the only words out of the blonde for several moments.

"If you went to a gun store and bought a gun, doesn't the law stipulate that you register the firearm and submit to a background check?" She said, moving onto her next statement. "Paranormals, Magic Users, and other... unorthodox individuals might make up the backbone of society in your part of Terra, but here, in Therrier-Paix, and especially Van Leugen, we make every effort to keep tabs on those with supernatural abilities. Through a rigorous background check system, and registration of their 'powers' and abilities just as if they purchased a firearm." She said, clearing her throat.

"Paranormals committing crimes are subject to much stricter punishments in accordance with the laws of the TNG, because given their extraordinary abilities, they have a responsibility to use them with discretion, and committing crimes with powers that give you an edge over the average human are disgusting, which is why, as Parliament I will vow to push for stricter regulations for paranormals across all of Terra, in the spirit of strengthening domestic security, and preventing the superpowered slug fests that you see in Wing City, from spreading."

She took a brief sip of water. "To sum it up, Abuse of paranormal and magical abilities should not be tolerated by any level of government, and a system should be maintained to keep tabs on all Paranormal beings not as a matter of prejudice, but a matter of public safety."

She turned to Rubano, and nodded. "Do you have anything to offer, Mr. Malijin?"

Rubano smiled grandly. "Thank you, Ms. McGregor. As Mr. Vidal eloquently put, I am also honored to be here before you this evening."

He cleared his throat. "I think there is a plausible middle-ground between the viewpoints of Ms. McGregor and Mr. Vidal. On one hand, forced registration of unconvicted supernatural citizens could potentially be an immense violation of personal privacy. On the other hand, their innate abilities and powers do impose an implicit responsibility on such citizens. As Ms. McGregor said, we require citizens with firearms to register with the state. So why are superhumans, with abilities and powers that are often far more lethal and dangerous than your standard hand pistol, exempt from similar registration?" He raised a stern finger. "Still, we must remember: these people are not weapons. They are Terran citizens; sentient beings endowed with all the same liberties and freedoms as any other man or woman, and as such, may be given the same chances and opportunities. Thus, I would propose, as Mr. Vidal has argued, to not require forced registration for unconvicted superhumans. So long as paranormal citizens continue to show that they can use their gifts responsibly, I see no reason to keep tabs on them." He cleared his throat. "Similarly, I would (If re-elected) impose registration on superhumans convicted of crimes of any nature in which they've used their powers to enable their nefarious activity. This could be as minor as using their telekinesis to vandalize public property or as serious as using their pyromancy in an intended arson." He smiled, nodding at Joran. "I would also push for more funding to be sent to the brave men and women who protect Terra from explicitly malicious individuals, supernatural or no. I understand that local police forces and NPA agents alike need to continue to improve their equipment and training to address the ever-dangerous and evolving face of domestic crime. If elected to office, I will ensure that the defenders of Terran liberty will receive the funds they need to continue in their admirable and noble professions."

Each candidate had now addressed the question. Free-debate was now open. Rubano quickly jumped on the chance.

"I do have a question for both of you, Mr. Vidal and Ms. McGregor," he smiled, turning his attention away from the audience and towards his fellow candidates, "Ms. McGregor you mentioned earlier about establishing an 'institution' to oversee domestic security concerning paranormal crime. Exactly what sort of institution to propose to establish for such a job?"

He looked to Victor. "And for you, Mr. Vidal. You've lived in Wing City for quite a while, no? Surely you understand, perhaps better than any of us, the threat that supernatural criminals possess to daily society. Hardly a week goes by without some sort of (as Ms. McGregor put it) 'superpowered slug fest' tearing up the metropolis. Isn't this a sign that the TNG's formerly lax restrictions on federal paranormal law isn't working? Perhaps we need something more... explicit... to evoke serious change."

Victor listened to both of the other candidates speak as he pondered their responses, he wasn't too intrigued by the institution idea but he was was not completely in opposition to a mandate against criminals. Smiling he turned briefly to Rubano

"Mr. Malijin, I will admit that there is a need for serious change but, the perils in wing city do not rest solely on those with paranormal abilities as I am sure we are all aware there are many groups that attack innocent Terrans as well take for example The Hammer and Star Bratva or the rough demon and other hunters that plague the city. The city is clearly in a racial and cultural war, so in a similar way I would not be completely opposed to an agency being created to help stop the conflict between the Paranormal and non-paranormal factions operating within the city and all of Terra. Clearly this issue has grown beyond local law enforcement for criminal acts. I would be interested to hear Ms. McGregor's insight into what type of institutions might be put into place."

The Aschen women nodded slowly, as she considered the proposal for a moment. She shuffled some papers on the podium for a moment, and then she nodded.

"Perhaps we should take a page out of the books of our-- and I use this term loosely, friends beyond the stars. I've studied on Langara for several years in College, and I've discovered that the Aschen Empire's mode of dealing with Paranormals through the creation of specialized agencies is, though heavy handed, very effective. However, we don't live in an Autocracy, and we must work to preserve individual liberties, while providing the utmost in public safety." Chloe explained.

"If elected I'd propose the creation of a specialized, but autonomous law enforcement agency that would answer only to the Ministry of Justice, and work closely with the NPA, and local police departments with relative freedom of movement." She explained.

"A sort of Mythical Crimes Division that would explicitly handle paranormal crimes without the restrictions of regional and provincial boundaries. An Agency that would rely on the creation of special Oversectors, with hand picked Captains that could operate without regard to jurisdiction or provincial boundaries. That they may provide consistent, and effective enforcement across Terra, from Wing City, to Van Leugen, and if possible through Diplomacy, to Narita and Volary."

"Coupled with a database through mandatory registration of Paranormal individuals who wish to use their abilities to better assist enforcement. Registration that's no different than registering for a driver license. You'd need a driver license to operate your car, certainly it'd be reasonable to require one to use your powers. Simply put, registration would only be required if an individual wanted to use their abilities. It'd be a crime for someone to drive without a license, why not make it illegal to use magic without a license? It doesn't infringe on any liberties, after-all, they don't have to register for anything, if they choose not to use their abilities."

"A fair point, Ms. McGregor," Rubano nodded, "though I'm certain there are some who would argue that the use of their powers is far more personal to them than, say, the operation of a motor vehicle. For many citizens, their powers are an innate part of who they are; an integral factor of their character and an expression of their individuality. Licensing their abilities would be like trying to license a man for having red hair or another for being a gifted pianist." Rubano shook his head. "No, I must maintain that registration be required only of citizens that have shown themselves capable of using their crimes for evil purposes, and furthermore..."

"I beg your pardon Mr. Malijin," Joran interceded, "but I'm afraid our five minutes is up. We will proceed to the next question." Rubano smiled and waived for Joran to proceed. Adjusting his reading glasses, the NPA director looked down at another card and read the second question.

"Where do you stand in terms of foreign diplomacy? How should the TNG view its relationship with the Shintenchi nations, and should we continue to try and convince our eastern neighbors to join our government? Should intergalactic relations be strengthened or slackened?"

Victor was glad that the five minutes were up but he was even more pleased that the next topic was turned to foreign relations. "An important question." Victor said. " Terra is in my opinion caught in between many warring and or disagreeing factions though obviously we cannot just turn a blind eye. My personal belief for Terra is to stabilize our relationships with other nations focusing on trade and humanitarian issues. Now I am not talking about a total isolationist approach trade and simple negotiation can be created but we cannot stand by and risk gaining allies and possibly angering other nations that would seek to harm terra. Our military and defense are not up to standards in my personal opinion. We must repair our nation before we begin major diplomatic moves." Victor said.

"The Shintenchi Nations on the other hand are another matter entirely, I believe that we can keep an offer on the table for them to join but they do reserve the right to remain independent nations. The Shintenchi nations are our closest neighbors obviously and we must respect them and their wishes but I think that as we all share this planet a strong diplomatic relationship with these nations is acceptable and in my opinion necessary. "

Chloe pondered the question for a moment, this was an opportunity for her to shine, and provide the answers to further her own political career.

She took another small sip from her glass, before she cleared her throat and looked towards Victor, and then Rubano.

"The only way for us to further diplomacy with any foreign nation is for them to take us seriously, as it stands hardly any foreign government takes us seriously. The TNG has thus far been a joke, rife with corrupt politicians serving their own aims." She explained. Nodding to Victor. "I agree we have much to do before we consider improving relations with foreign nations. The goal would be to prevent further hostilities. Which is why if elected, I plan to push for the renegotiation of the Terran-Aschen Armistice with the Empire and lay down a more permanent peace framework." She said, before she scoffed at Victor's notion of the Shintenchi nations rejoining.

"Do you know the implications of that, Mr. Vidal. You yourself mentioned angering other nations. One of the Shintenchi Nations is little more than a Puppet Government of the Taiyou Empire, and the other two nations are neck deep in Taiyou pockets. Any diplomatic or political tangles with these three nations would obviously be under heavy Taiyou scrutiny. Which is why it's important to solidify relations with the Taiyou Empire, before proceeding with further diplomatic actions in Shintenchi." She said, nodding. "And military annexation is clearly out of the question, since it would be suicide to try and take on the Taiyou Empire."

The Android had found herself, following the contact with the Aschen Consulate. Escorted by the Terran Marines to Fort Veritas where she could be properly questioned, and the officers in charge could ascertain just who would be responsible for the Android.


She would find herself escorted to one of Fort Veritas' many holding cells, and left there as the door latched shut behind the men. The Android said nothing as she moved to sit on the bed, closing her eyes and meditating, or rather. Accessing the Aschen data-link through a subspace link. Passing the time 'browsing the net' through an encrypted channel until such time as someone was sent to question her, or someone from the Aschen Consulate had arrived.

"I agree that the Terran National Government has had problems with foreign nations in the past, and should exercise caution when dealing with other intergalactic powers," Rubano nodded, "ultimately, however, I feel one of our central problems has been our movement towards isolationism. Time and time again the TNG has issued decrees banning foreign presence on Terran soil and the withdrawal of alien powers, ally or no. In our fierce desire to protect our independence, we have shunned our friends and much of our diplomatic support. Rather than make us stronger, however, this philosophy has only resulted in more war, death, terrorism and bigotry. I hoped that, by creating the Xenia Compromise, we might be able to enjoy the benefits of strong intergalactic ties without sacrificing domestic economy or our cultural heritage. If elected once more, I shall re-visit the Xenia Compromise and consider making amends to it, amends that will allow us to further expand our foreign interest while maintaining our independence." He smiled. "I would also be interested on expanding the TNG's borders beyond Terra, but I suppose that is another topic of conversation."

He cleared his throat and conceded the floor to brief free-debate.

A lone NPA investigator entered the holding cell, his face blank and expressionless.

"Aiyana," the investigator nodded, "strange seeing you here." The android's many feats on Terra made her easily recognizable by most TNG staff.

"Perhaps you'd like to explain to me why you were pointing guns at Terran citizens?"

As the lone NPA investigator stepped into the room and the Android immediately locked her eyes onto the officer. Her eyes focused slightly as she seemed to study every wrinkle, every feature in his face, his attire and posture, and even the way he sat down.

The Android didn't say anything as the officer sat down.

"I wouldn't say the same about being here. Everything happens for a reason." The Android said, her voice unusually organic and human.

"Perhaps you'd like to explain to me why you were pointing guns at Terran citizens?"

The Android pondered for a moment before she shook her head slightly.

"That's classified." She said simply.

"You're classified," the agent grumbled, rubbing at his temples in clear exasperation, "you've made a helluva' mess out of all this. A representative from the Aschen consulate is on their way to oversee this investigation." He looked her square in the eye, more tired and weary than threatening. "Why don't you do us all a favor and explain to me what you were doing out in the city with a gun, shooting at people. This may be your only chance to give the TNG your side of the story before some shit-eating LDA agent comes in here and takes you away on matters of national security."

"Before we move to free debate," Joran interceded, "I'd like to briefly ask a question of Ms. McGregor." He nodded towards the Aschen. "Surely, Ms. McGregor, you can understand Mr. Vidal's perspective, at the least? The Terran National Government hasn't exactly been on friendly terms with many intergalactic powers. This planet was under foreign military occupation not even a year ago. Decades before that, we were the targets of mass genocide." He perked a brow. "...surely there's no denying that much of Terra's problems in the past years have been at the hands of oppressive alien forces?"