Marek Sen's Story

Space flew past, start swirling, expanding, collapsing, a massive kaleidoscope of light to be enjoyed as long as the trip lasted. Space folded, unfolded, then folded again in endless sequence, propelling the Argonez forward in massive leaps covering hundreds of light years. Such an interesting way of travel they had developed for themselves, though Marek Sen. Sitting on the bridge of the ship as it sped towards its destination, he considered what could have been different. With their travel, space could still be enjoyed despite venturing beyond the "normal" laws of physics. Smiling softly, he started as a small beep sounded in his hear. It would not do for the High Lord of the Extranus to be surprised, especially with what he was about to encounter. C'ra had been lost among the stars for millenia, cut off from contact with the outside. Why? He did not know, but it was finally time to explore the galaxy and the secrets it had to hold. Activating the transponder mentally he asked, "What is it?"

"We are almost at the destination, sir. What are your thoughts on procedure?" chimed in the voice of the ship-board AI, Petra. He had designed her himself. She was his pride and joy alongside the MRD.

Smiling to himself, he chuckled. "Let's throw them a party, Petra. At least if we die, we'll have some nice and toasty champagne."

Laughing softly, Petra signed off. At the command consoles, one of the crew men deactivated the anti-space drive. Such strangeness, using people to run ships when AI could do the job much more efficiently. But they didn't provide the same company. As the stars came back to their natural state, Marek gazed upon the planet they had arrived at. Thriving, it would seem. Hopefully they would be accepting of someone popping in.

Opening an open-broadcast to everyone in the vicinity of the planet, Marek announced, "Greetings people of this planet. My name is Marek Sen, representative of the C'ran people. We have come to establish communications with your nation or nations and await your response." Cutting off the transmission, he sat back to wait.

An elderly man sat quietly at a polished mahogany desk. He was dressed in a custom tailored midnight blue suit. Onyx cufflinks adorned his his wrists. A deep purple necktie was tucked neatly beneath the collar of a snow white buttoned-down shirt and his suit jacket. White hair receded from his forehead and flowed downward in a sharply trimmed beard. Aged wrinkles marked his face while intelligent, observant, and lively blue eyes scanned over a sleek tablet sitting in front of him. To his left was a folded newspaper entitled The Wing City Gazette, and a black coffee cup sat steaming on a coaster to his right.

"Paia." he said as he skimmed down a report on his tablet.

"Yes, Mr. Ereb?" replied a feminine voice. A blue hologram depicted a fair skinned woman and long dark hair materialized on the far corner of his desk.

"Please inform me when our guest arrives." Mr. Ereb ordered. He bore a dignified British accent that reflected intelligence and distinctiveness. "Also, schedule an appointment with Professor Hagon. I want to go over the next stage of our prototypes."

"Certainly, Mr. Ereb." Paia replied. "Same place as usual?"

"Yes," Mr. Ereb nodded before sipping on his mug, "and thank you."

"You're welcome, Gabriel." Paia smiled before vanishing.

Gabriel Ereb swept a finger across his tablet, switching the view from a technical report to real time monitoring of the Galactic Stock Market.

Marek Sen sat within the apartment which he had rented just a few days earlier after the laborious process of establishing a meaningful exchange rate between the C'ran dranna and Terran credit. The ignorance and drivel which a human could spout was fascinating, more so because the ability manifested so commonly in the race. Yet there were certainly as many that spoke candorously much more of the time, admiring the familiarity that truth implies. Most interesting indeed to observe and interact, even more so considering that a fair portion of the population did not treat him as an oddity, accustomed to observing the passage of 'alien' creatures through their lives.

Stretching in his seated position upon the futon, a grimace reached his lips as the integrated implants jarred his body, a reminder of their origin. He had not received them in C'ran, a place where any such synthetic replacements would bond with his flesh as one, rendering him almost a whole being in a biological sense. Yet there were some matters which even his race's technological and magical capabilities could not fully extend to. Accessing the psych-network, Marek checked in with the rest of his entourage, all in various areas of Wing City, reconnoitering to determine the capabilities and merits of the Terrans. Satisfied with their current condition, he accessed the message which had been delivered to him electronically, an invitation from the head of a corporation for a meeting of some sorts. Analyzing the potential harms of accepting such an offer, the goods outweighed the negatives for he could always be replaced but a chance to secure C'ran's future would not necessarily wait for another to seize it.

Standing, he donned a brown coat, finely crafted by hand from leather of an animal native to one of C'ran's colonial planets and gifted to him in exchange for his assistance in dealing with matters on the planet. Trivial matters but ones that needed solving. Tooling ran along the leather, a swirling pattern of almost-imperceptible leaves and vines, fading to and from sight as the shadows shifted. Beneath the coat he wore a simple tunic and pants of pretahydride synthetic material, both pieces black. Running scarred hands over his head, he reminisced to the time before his hair had become gray and burnt away never to regrow.

Striding out of the apartment, he entered his personal transport which had been brought along on his ship. A small grav-lev car, it sped through the air, maneuvering deftly towards the Ereb headquarters. Decelerating as they approached the destination, he commanded the driver to wait. Stepping out through the morphing door, Marek gazed over the building, a massive construct of glass and steel. Considering gaze gazing momentarily, he turned his thoughts towards this 'Mr. Ereb.' Stepping through the front doors of the headquarters, he encountered security guards. After checks for non-existent weapons had been run, he stepped up to the receptionist in the main lobby and spoke quietly, "I am here for an appointment with Mr. Ereb. The name should be Marek Sen. Please inform him I am here.

The receptionist looked up from her slick desktop computer and gave Marek a friendly smile. Her long brunette hair was pulled back behind her ears by a headband. Forest green eyes practically groped the C'ranian as she placed her chin on her palm.

"Hi there!" she chirped. "Marek Sen, you said? Sure thing. Let me just PM his personal secretary..."

She returned her attention to her monitor. Her desk was littered with a variety of knicknacks. A Narita snow globe sat between two bobble heads depicting soldiers in grey blast armor. On the opposite side of her computer was a plush stuffed spider with googly eyes. To her right was a stack of notebooks topped with a hefty textbook - a stylized atom displayed prominently on the front with the title Intermediate Particle Physics. There was a black name plate propped up beside the spider that read "Claire Whelling" in white letters.

"Alrighty, you're cleared." she said before sliding a plastic visitor card across the counter. A red number nine was printed boldly in the center. "Take the elevator behind me. Hold the card up to the sensor inside and it'll take you up to his floor."

Marek considered the woman sitting at the desk. A most interesting arrangement she had made on the desk. The textbook on physics and the name plate seemed in place. Those two items could belong on any work desk in fact. Even the snow globe seemed to fit in, depending on what season it was. It was the oddities of the plush spider and bobble head soldiers that confused him. Perhaps...Something to figure out for later.

Taking up the plastic card offered him, he tilted his head slightly and responded, "Thank you, Ms. Whelling." Slipping the ID into his coat, he began to whistle softly as he stepped into the elevator indicated by the receptionist. Listening closely, one would be able to tell that the tune was that of 'Pop Goes the Weasel'. Stepping in and extracting the card, he activated the elevator and inspected his coat as he traveled upwards. No visible stains or tears of any kind, not that he would expect any, considering he traveled to Ereb Headquarters via vehicle. Establishing a connection once again with the other C'ran in the Aschen, he informed them all of the meeting in case anything happened. Marek did not expect anything to happen yet 'twas better to err on the side of caution than suffer the consequences of bravery.

A small chime announced his arrival followed shortly by the opening of the doors. Stepping out into the hallway, he examined the surroundings curiously. In his few days on Terra he still had not accustomed to the non-semi-organic surroundings of human structures, different in aesthetics and function from C'ran architecture. Continuing up to Gabriel Ereb's office, he passed by the secretary while showing her his pass. Perhaps not entirely legal, but he didn't have time to spare. Stepping inside, he looked at the man briefly before making a small bow. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Ereb."

The secretary outside Mr. Ereb's office did not obstruct Marek in any way, having received notice of his appointment and his picture. Mr. Ereb looked up at the C'ranian with piercing intelligent eyes and gave him a warm smile.

"Ahh, Mr. Sen." he said in his iconic British accent. "Please, take a seat. I'm glad you could make it." Ereb gestured to the felt chair in front of his desk.

Mr. Ereb's desk was a deep brown mahogany covered in a thin glass panel. Several scrolling windows flowed down the panel's horizontal surface. A stack of paper sat on one corner of the desk alongside a filled pen cup. The other side of the desk carried the framed picture of a young woman in her mid-twenties. Beside the picture, facing away from the desk, was a gold nameplate printed with "Gabriel Ereb: CEO".

"Would you care for some tea, Mr. Sen?"

Glancing at the thin panel in front of Gabriel Ereb, Marek blinked once, securing the image in his memory. A useful trick, visual storage. Rolling up his sleeves slightly so that they did not cover his hand, Marek muttered a statement of gratitude as he took a seat at the chair in front of the desk. Crafted from wood, gold scroll-work ran down the sides, accentuating the crimson plush of the seat and back.

Settling himself comfortably, he nodded slightly at Gabriel's offer. "I would be much obliged, Mr. Ereb. I'm afraid that I did not repast much this morning. If you have some of the variety known as Earl Gray, I will have that. Otherwise, anything shall do." Taking note of the ink well set on the desk, Marek smiled slightly. Even in this era of technological wonders, there were still many that carried on ancient traditions. He himself had such an item, purchased for an exorbitant price from a collector. The artifacts from Terra truly were fascinating.

"I'm afraid I did not properly introduce myself. My name is Marek Sen, High Lord of the C'ran Extranus. As such, I am responsible for much of C'ran's foreign and financial policy. Now that we are through that, let us dispense with the formalities. This should be an interaction of good-will and future familiarity, not business, though that is certainly part of the meeting. So, what is it that you desired to discuss?"

Gabriel tapped a blue button on his desktop before addressing the C'ranian.

"You see Marek - may I call you Marek? - I am a businessman," Mr. Ereb began. "Entrepreneur. Investor. Opportunist. Pick your synonym. Regardless, I have built most of this company from the ground up, and - in doing so - I have developed a keen eye for potential."

It was then that a young woman clad in a business skirt and jacket stepped into the room after a brief knock. She carried a stainless steel tray with a porcelain tea set placed upon it. The woman set the tray on the corner of the desk and departed without a word.

"Your people, Marek," he continued while pouring two cups of Earl Grey tea, "have a fresh slate in the galactic community. I see great opportunity in mutual growth and benefit between your nation and my company. It is a big and intimidating world beyond your atmosphere, Mr. Sen. Your people will need to adapt and advance in order to contend with the larger fish in this interstellar ocean."

"And..." he took a sip of his tea. "I believe I can help."

Marek nodded in assent to Gabriel's request. If this was to b a friendly meeting then the formality of surnames would have to be stopped in order to accomplish such a task. As Gabriel spoke shortly about his building of Ereb Industries from nothing, Marek observed him closely. If he had to take a gander, Marek would have said Gabriel was near enough 70 years old, aging for a Terran even in this era.

Swiveling slightly to regard the entrance of a secretary worth the requested tea, he took note of the quiet manner in which she materialized and departed. A well-disciplined organization he has built, Marek though to himself. He muttered, "Thank you," as Gabriel continued to speak, pouring the tea while doing so. Tasting the slightly steaming liquid, he sighed softly. It certainly eased his body of the infrequent aches his implants caused.

A smile touched his lips as Gabriel finished speaking. So he believed he could help, now, did he? Marek held no doubts that the man in front of him could assist C'ran in some manner. The extent of his assistance was yet to be seen, however. Marek knew of the troubles the Milky Wag and Andromeda presented. No uncertainties plagued his mind as to their power relative to others. Information, easy enough to come by, funneled into C'ran, increasing their understanding of the foreign powers.

"You say you can help us survive in this grand multiverse which we live in, Gabriel. C'ran has survived for thousands of years, many of those under harrowing conditions. I do not hold any inhibitions as to your capabilities or willpower. What I need you to prove to me is that you can initiate some firm of betterment or change. You must understand, as you most likely do, that both of u guard our interests dearly. So, satsify my interest and I'm sure you will satisfy C'ran's

"Industry." Gabriel said with a smile and wave of his hand. Several documents materialized across the desktop along with a handful of holograms. "My company can bring an industrial revolution to your Republic. New and more efficient energy sources. Advanced star ship technology. Military grade technology, including armor, weapons, and sophisticated drones..."

"I have several products and projects that would be great boons to your people in regards to defense, medical science, and other fields." he continued. One hologram depicted what appeared to be a dome surrounding a city, while another showed a soldier fully enclosed in a nanosuit. "Combining our technologies would also give each party advantages they did not have previously as well as filling gaps otherwise impossible to fill."

"We Terrans have a saying, Marek." Gabriel said as he dismissed the holograms. "The whole is greater than the sum of its parts. Your people and my company can learn much from each other. I can provide many things from medical equipment, scientific instruments, weapons, ship parts, to top-dollar mercenaries that specialize equally in brute force and stealthy subterfuge. In addition, I would be willing to grant discounts for government-funded contracts."

Leaning forward slightly as Gabriel spoke, Marek listened to his words attentively. Particularly when the images appeared on the screen in front of him, providing a panoramic view of the equipment shown. With nothing to base his opinions off of rather than Gabriel's word and graphics without specifications, Marek would have to deserve judgement until he could further examine Ereb Industries' capability. The dome projection was not specified in any way but he could under that it represents some sort of high-grade shielding. Usefulness would be dictated by military situations, something C'ran was always careful to judge.

As Gabriel finished speaking, a small ping resonated in Marek's mind. Tuning to the psychic network momentarily, one of his aides briefed him of the encounter with a certain 'Aschen' state while on an exploratory mission in another area of the Milky Way. As the highest-ranking official in the galaxy at that moment, it would be his duty to operate as was best for C'ran. Informing the aide to notify the operating unit at the intergalactic gate, Marek refocused his attention on Gabriel.

"You certainly seem eager, Gabriel. Now, however, is not the time for an industrial revolution. Those events are long past. It is time for us to initiate a technological revolution, transcendental even. That is the next step, one I am sure you can help with," Marek intoned. Adjusting his coat, he extracted a small, silvery device from a pocket. Spindly legs extends from the bowl shaped base, no more than two inches wide at most. Scroll-work ran along the outside, accentuating the dim hue of the piece. Laying it flat on the desk, Marek activated it through a psy-link.

A hologram projected upwards, no distinguishable light emanating from the construct. What it showed was a galaxy, one different from the Milky Way. Clasping his hands, Marek uttered seriously, "I hope you understand the ramifications of any deal we may make. Where we are, there is no Terra. Ti a large extent, everything would appear new. There can be no regrets of action for that leads to failure. You have certainly piqued my interest. Now settle them and I will see what we can do about making a deal."

"Of course, Marek." Gabriel nodded solemnly. "You'll have to forgive me. I often become quite enthusiastic regarding my company. It is like a second child to me, in a way." he glanced at the framed picture on his desk.

"But I digress..." he continued. "There are a few things in my disposal that would be specifically aligned to your interests. One, which I have no doubt you have encountered numerous times during your stay here, is the computer. In essence, the computer is a logic machine that can perform complex tasks and calculations thousands of times faster than an organic brain. It operates by a simple binary code - forming commands from various combinations of 'yes' and 'no', 'one' and 'zero', 'on' and 'off', that escalate in complexity. The device that projects images onto my desk is operated by a computer that responds to me touching the screen.

"Next is arcology shielding..." Gabriel tapped a corner of the aforementioned screen, bringing up the hologram of the city-dome. "The Arcology Shield works in three layers. The first is a simple filter that keeps out pathogens, harmful ultraviolet rays, and overall promotes city health. Its second layer provides a kinetic shield, protecting you from air raids or conventional bombardment. The final layer is only activated during a siege, and can protect against nuclear weapons or other weapons of mass destruction. The Arcology Shield is most valuable to large, over-populated, and strategic cities.

"Third is one of my pride and joys. Paia, why don't you introduce yourself to Mr. Sen?"

The humanoid hologram of a woman materialized on a corner of the desk. She stood roughly a foot tall on the flat surface and was colored in a bluish hue. Her hair flowed midway down her back. A warm motherly smile greeted Marek.

"Hello, Mr. Sen." she said in a remarkably organic voice.

"This is Paia." Gabriel continued. "She is what we call an 'Artificial Intelligence' or an 'AI'. Paia is, in essence, a living computer. Information is her proficiency - whether it is gathering, consolidating, analyzing, or archiving. Her digital and electronic brain catches and remembers things that our feeble minds would not even consider as long as she has access to adequate sensors. Paia is an irreplaceable asset to Ereb Industries."

As Gabriel began to introduce the concept of the computer to Marek, the Sakari turned over the options in his head. Computers certainly were no longer a surprise to him. They had been encountered quite often on Terra and infrequently in the Onyx Galaxy so it was not that he did not have a basic understanding of them. C'ran lacked in advanced understanding, unable to accomplish many of the computer-based wonders that other civilizations that others could achieve. Inversely, many other civilizations could not replicate the effects or benefits of the psychic fields and equipment utilized by C'ran. Acquiring a greater understanding certainly would facilitate the advancement of C'ran. Perhaps the psy-network could be given to Ereb Industries in some fashion. Perhaps.

The shield-dome from earlier reappeared on Gabriel's screen, showing once again the glowing dome surrounding a city, powered by drones. As the explanation rolled out of Gabriel's mouth, Marek nodded. Certainly a technology that could be utilized. Pathogens did not usually trouble C'ran- the last major outbreak of disease had been seven hundred years ago after a dissension group released an unfinished compound onto an unsuspecting world- so that feature most likely would not feature itself greatly in use by C'ran. The other shieldings, however, could most certainly be useful. Variation in techniques and strengths, enhanced by the multiple layers, would make anything under an Arcology Shield combined with a C'ran shielding system almost impervious to anything but long-term, dedicated attack.

What truly surprised him, if such an emotion could be felt by one who had traveled extensively, was the appearance of this Paia. Paying only half a mind to Gabriel's talking, Marek leaned forward staring at Paia. Tentatively, he reached out with his psychic connection form, probing for an opening. Nothing. Paia held neither a psychic conscious nor a physical form. A computer, an almost living one. Most interesting. As he withdrew the psychic extension, a small resonance came from the living beings in the area. Due to the non-investigatory nature of his psychic use, the resonance was faint yet revealed there was more than just him and Gabriel and him in the room. Marek glanced to the side for a moment before returning his gaze to Gabriel.

"Most intriguing, Gabriel, most intriguing. Consider me caught for the moment. If you desire, we may begin some sort of arrangement."

"One more thing, Marek..." Gabriel leaned back in his chair with a grin. "I am going to show you one more thing. This is likely the crowned jewels of Ereb Industries and my favorite project. Shadow Sabre, reveal yourself if you would."

The air beside Gabriel's desk shimmered as the light flowing through the window distorted and warped. It peeled back like a film, revealing a tall and imposing figure. His body was encased in a black mesh that was chiseled with defined and compact muscles. A metallic helmet clung to his head, complete with a breathing mask. Several compartments, along with a sheathed combat knife and holstered pistol, were attached to his waist. A large rifle and sheathed katana was strapped to his back. He looked down at Marek through a pitch-black visor that revealed no emotion besides the cold discipline of a soldier.

"Marek, this is Captain Shadow Sabre. Shadow Sabre, why don't you tell Mr. Sen about yourself and your unit?"

"Shadow Sabre is my codename." the figure said in a heavily modulated voice. "Though my full name, Agares Narkel, is known in some circles, my past before enrolling in the Alpha Trooper program is classified. It is the same for every Alpha Trooper. The Alpha Troopers are an elite squad of cybernetic super soldiers trained and equipped for special operations ranging from stealth and sabotage to brute force raids. A single soldier can take on a small army of conventional troops. Alpha Troopers are encased in an advanced nanosuit composed of a patented nanoweave technology that can protect us from kinetic projectiles, energy weapons, and external pathogens. If the suit is damaged and we are injured, the suit will repair itself and grow into our wounds. We are armed with Legion Tech military hardware, including anti-matter rifles and monomolecular blades. In addition, we are overseen by Paia - who acts as our handler and coordinator."

"I see and hear everything that Shadow Sabre and his comrades do." replied Paia from her spot on the desk. "However, I notice things that they do not and can collaborate information between them into an interfaceable format, provide strategic insight, and otherwise assist them in whatever way I am able."

Eyebrows raised as Gabriel spoke. Intrigued, Marek sat back in the chair, placing his back against the support. As the air began to shimmer, light scattering in rays of color across his legs, a smile creased Marek's face. As the soldier revealed himself, Marek began to listen attentively to the description afforded by the soldier while running a quick analysis of the man with his cybernetic eye. Energy emissions marked the rifle and pistol as anti-matter weaponry while the katana and knife did not identify as any known material. Presumably some invention of Ereb Industries. The figure could certainly appear intimidating to a figure given the synthetic-muscle formula and faceless visor.

As Agares began his description, Marek chuckled softly at the feats offered by the soldier. So it seems that this 'AI'- PAIA- linked itself to the entirety of the Ereb paramilitary force. Almost like the psychic network in one sense. Though without intricate knowledge of the workings of the AI he had no way to determine its efficiency. With the end of the regaling, Marek's smile widened and he began to clap slowly, maintaining the noise at a low level.

"A fine show, Gabriel, a fine show indeed. Consider any deal we make sealed. Are there any particulars you desire to make known before we proceed?"

Marek stretched languorously in the back seat of his lev transport, working the tenseness out of his muscles and mind slowly. Alone in the dark confines except for the driver, he enjoyed the time without business as long as he could. As one of C'ran's highest ranking officials, duties lay heavily on his shoulders, constantly pressing down upon his mind. The meeting with Gabriel Ereb had provided a small release from this stress, a time that allowed some of his responsibilities to bleed away momentarily. Certainly it had been interesting to speak with Gabriel and perview several of the technologies developed by Ereb Industries. A response had come shortly after his meeting with Gabriel had ceased, informing him that the Anointed desired him to speak with a representative of the Aschen. a simple enough affair to locate where he needed to go.

Eyes closed and tuning out the rest of the world, Marek did not notice the car's halting until the driver reached back to shake him. A quiet woman, she was. She hadn't given him her name despite the several years she had been in his service. She didn't speak much in any situation, but especially when conducting business. A faithful companion nonetheless. Smiling to her along with a nod, Marek disembarked from the vehicle, plating warping around him as the semi-living material detected his body's movement. Eyes adjusting near instantaneously to the glaring light of the sun, the C'ran observed the milling throng of people crowding the causeway. So this was where the Aschen operated from. Certainly busy.

Weaving his way through the crowd without an entourage of any kind, Marek eventually ended up in front of the Tech Con Headquarters. Running his eyes up along the massive edifice of glass and metal, Marek considered the appointment which he had made with the Aschen embassy. He could simply walk away. Many tales reached his ears, some quite disapproving of Aschen policy. Yet to do so would mean opposing a direct order from the Anointed. Such orders were not issued often. About to enter, he cocked his head as one of the military personnel contacted him, a Komesar by the name of Quanvaral. Few Grecians entered the ranks of the Komessariat imply for the fact they did not choose to do so, yet all those inside were extremely adept at their jobs.

"Lord Marek, I request that you advise me as to your ventures so that I may supply protection to your person. I do not intend to suffer your death or capture can I help. I shall deign to ask if I should send a security team," came the Grecian's voice into his mind, retaining a harsher, chittering sound even over psychic links.

"I am in no apparent danger, Komesar Quanvaral. Thank you for your concern."

"As you desire, Lord Marek. I shall prepare a Wraith as a precaution, however." The Grecian severed the psychic link following that final statement. Marek could simply contact him again but arguing with the Komesar would yield no benefits. Chuckling, he stepped through the doorway into the Tech Con building and approached one of the receptionists. Nearing the desk, he bowed shortly.

"I am Marek Sen. I believe I have an appointment with a member of the Aschen embassy."

Once Marek stepped inside Embassy lobby, he was greeted with a relatively quiet and orderly scenario unfolding in front of him. The first sight were of course the pair of well dressed guards standing at the doors of the Embassy. Aschen Embassy guards clad in their blue trimmed dark grey uniforms, standing at attention with polished rifles slung over their shoulders. Their eyes stared straight ahead.

There were lines, various Aschen citizens conducting business with embassy officials, everything from lost passport, to tourist services. These lines were fairly orderly, and the ambiance of a strange but fluid language filled the Embassy.

The Embassy lobby itself was a fairly large room, with a large poster on the far wall that displayed Imperial propaganda. In the center of the room was a large ivory statue, the statue of the current Aschen Emperor, Isambard Prince. His looming figure and outstretched arm was the centerpiece of the otherwise austere and modernist lobby decor.

One of the most obvious was signage near places such as the restroom, and the cafeteria, a red bordered white sign with black text that read "Humans Only, Non Humans Banned." In both English, and the Aschen language of Anquietas.

Merek would likely find himself having to wait in line a short time, as the Imperial Embassy was often fairly busy, but the line moved quickly and fairly efficiently, and he had finally reached the receptionist. Unlike the Receptionist at Ereb Industries, this one was a young olive skinned, dark haired woman that had her hair in a tight bun, her neck and hands adorned with ornate patterned tattoos. An Ethnic Tauron.

Sitting upon her desk was a holographic computer touchscreen, that she manipulated with hand gestures, a small religious statue depicting the god Ares, and a large stack of paperwork. It would seem this woman was very business oriented.

"Marek Sen." She replied in a thick accent. "We have been expecting you." She replied, tapping in several queries into the monitor.

"Yes, Ambassador Tarthus is expecting you." She said, gesturing one of the Shore Patrol men over. This man was clad in a dark green combat uniform, trimmed with a black vest and boots, and a black armband that bore bold white letters "LDA 'SP'" weapons consisted of a disruptor pistol holstered at his hip along with the rest of his gear, and a rifle slung across his back.

"This is Marek Sen, an envoy from a recently established foreign power, can you escort him to Ambassador Tarthus' office if you would?" The woman said, the obvious condescending tone crept into her speech as she discussed the Alien before her.

The Shore Patrol officer nodded, then turned to Marek.

"Sir, if you could come with me." He said, gesturing for Marek to Follow. The Shore Patrol officer would then turn towards a set of doors towards the rear of the lobby, doors guarded by another pair of Shore Patrolmen.

As soon as Marek stepped away from the woman, she boredly shouted "Next!"

As the pair of doors opened up, the Shore Patrol officer started walking, taking the occasional glance back at Marek to ensure he didn't stray too far. This was when Marek would likely be subject to the Embassy's passive defense systems, now that he was in a secure area.

The Shore Patrol officer then came to a stop at a security station, a large body scanner and conveyor belt for bags and luggage. And a second SP Officer sitting at a small podium.

"Do you have any weapons on you? Surrender them now, they will be returned upon your departure. If you have any Magical or psionic abilities, it would behoove you to refrain from using them beyond this point. There is an Anti-Magic field, and a Psionic jammer on the other side of this security scanner. If you have any of these abilities, while the fields will cause no pain, if you attempt to use these abilities, you will be met with a painful feedback. It's a security measure to protect our personnel. Weapons, and any magical artifacts, or anything that can be used as a weapon are forbidden beyond this point, and must be declared and surrendered." The Officer explained.

"Do you wish to proceed?"

The Officer stepped aside to let Marek towards the Scanner.

Marek's eyes ran over the furnishings adorning the main lobby of the Tech Con headquarters, analyzing, evaluating, and considering consciously each detail which prodded his interest or inquisitive nature. First to take his attention was the statue in the center of the lobby, cast from ivory and worked to the most minute detail. His cybernetic implant, sharper than any organic eye could hope to match, traced the lines on the creation, storing its information. Perhaps Marek would build such a statue for later study. Certainly an interesting feature of the lobby. Either the man who it represented thought quite highly of himself or the people did. Or both, all three options were certainly possibilities.

As the Shore Patrol officer began to escort the C'ran towards the restricted areas of the building, Marek glanced over at the sign hanging on the walls next to the bathroom, mess hall, and several other places. Humans Only, Non Humans Banned. A small frown graced the lips of the Kethan. Troubling. Stories floated through the networks of information that connected the galaxy, yes, but observing such a thing in person seemed somehow stranger, more insulting. Yet perhaps the Aschen harbored an in-bred reason for the restrictions. An unknown past made for uncertainties, and therefore caution when first interacting with the nation.

Following the officer to the security station, Marek adopted an air of seeming casualness, ignoring the various signs and looks that came his way along the route. He went so far as to smile faintly, an almost smug twitch on his lips.

Arriving at the scanner, Marek considered the option presented him. A psychic jammer. It would be better to not attempt bypassing such a field when inside the embassy, especially as he doubted such an action could be done with the relatively small number of C'ran personnel connected to the psychic network in this area. Accessing the network, he informed the entirety of his retinue of the matter near instantaneously, warning them so that a rescue mission would not be attempted as well as to the fact that he would maintain communication via the data tablet. Vision cleared as he returned to the situation at hand before nodding at the agents. "I shall procede." Having no weapons or magical artifacts, Marek simply stepped through the scanner, extracting his data tablet so that the guards could see the item. After being cleared, he awaited further instructions from the LDA agents.

As Marek stepped through the scanner, it would not make any noises, as he didn't have any weapons. The Shore patrol officer at the security station waved Marek through, while the escorting guard followed.

Just past the security station was another large sign that read "Secure Area, Photographs prohibited. Violators subject to arrest. Lethal Force Authorized."

Another large sign read "Unauthorized Personnel will be summarily executed." Fortunately for Merek, he was an Authorized person.

"Right this way." The Shore Patrol officer said, while gesturing for Marek to follow. All around them people carried out their business, interns shuffled coffee and paperwork among the various diplomatic attachés. "Stay close to me." The Agent warned, before they moved through another large set of blast doors, which opened up with an audible hiss, revealing a long hallway adorned with various office entrances.

Taking a sharp right, the Agent knocked on a large clouded glass door, a female voice within speaking up. "Enter!"

The nameplate on the door read 'L. Tarthus - Ambassador'

The Agent nodded, and then swiped his keycard in the door, the door made a clattering sound, followed by a hiss as it slid to the right, revealing a large sleek yet austere office. Sitting at the large, glass and metal desk was a middle aged redheaded woman, directly behind her was the flag of the Aschen Empire, a dark blue contrasting with stark white and reds of the Imperial Seal. Atop the woman's desk was a laptop computer, various paperwork, and a nameplate. A small statuette of an Aschen Reverence II sitting atop a glass and gold trim base was the centerpiece of the desk. The intimidating bulbous warship sitting and capturing the attention of anyone who looked at it. The details of the small model were intricate, each rivet, each gun turret was carefully modeled and etched with precision.

In front of the desk were two leather chairs, comfortable in appearance. Directly besides Tarthus' desk was an assortment of drinks.

After Marek stepped through, the Shore Patrol officer would turn to leave, while the woman gestured outwards.

"Please, have a seat." She said calmly, while entering a series of notes into her Laptop.

"As you probably know, I am Lucia Tarthus, Ambassador from the United Aschen Empire." She explained.

"Would you care for something to drink? Water? Ambrosia? Wine?" She asked, gesturing to the assortment of drinks at her desk, while querying up the Datalink.

"I'd like to start off by welcoming you to our humble Embassy, I apologize for the security measures but they're a necessary evil, the Empire has many enemies. Those who would seek to destroy our way of life." The Woman explained. "My schedule is very busy, so for the sake of efficiency I'd like to get right too it, before we discuss what the Empire can do for you, I'd like to know a little bit about you, the people you represent, and the purpose behind this meeting." Tarthus explained. "We don't know much about your people, so we'd like to know how you came to find out about us, and of course where you come from."

As soon as he was cleared, Marek nodded at the LDA agent's instructions and began to follow close behind. Keeping his eyes straight ahead, he nevertheless took notice of the various signs at the edges of his vision. Even more threatening and paranoid in nature than those in the more public areas of the building. The hiss of the doors caused him to study them with more scrutiny. Blast doors inside an embassy/company headquarters. While certainly justifiable, it did lend to the uneasy air which he had about the Aschen. Perhaps they were too paranoid, although that was yet to be seen.

Reaching the entrance to the office of the ambassador, he glanced at the nameplate before entering. Nodding at the agent in thanks for the escort, he then proceeded through the door. Taking in the scenery he captured the image of the flag and the ship on the table in his memory so that he could examine them when he had time available. A finely crafted statuette of whatever ship it represented, as fine as the statue in the main lobby. National pride certainly hung heavy in the room.

Upon being invited to sit, Marek did so, making sure that his brown coat did not catch itself under him. Offered drinks, he thought momentarily before deciding. A little more liquid couldn't hurt.

"Some water if you please," he responded before listening to her again.

"The security measures are no matter. I understand the necessity for them, Ambassador Tarthus. As to who I am, I am Marek Sen, High Lord of the Extranus of the Meritocracy of C'ran and as such bequeathed with the ability to conduct foreign policy and diplomatic negotiation on my own. Apart from that short introduction of myself, I shall begin with how I came to find you. One of our exploratory fleets was escorting a ship to a planet upon which a distress signal was received. We dispatched three ships to investigate. Shortly after arriving, an Aschen vessel arrived and informed us of the nature of the 'distressed' ship. Our ships pulled out and the Fleet Sovereign informed me of the incident. This meeting is partly to settle any misconceptions which may arise because of that event but mostly to establish relations with your nation, Ambassador. It is important for us to have connections in the Milky Way for we, the nation of C'ran that is, come from the galaxy you call Onyx and as such cannot effectively maintain a large presence here without a significant drain on our resources or extensive preparation. As to the inhabitants of C'ran itself, we are slightly varied. I represent a sub-race known as the Kethan, lighter skinned than our cousins the Sakari. They resemble what humans call 'elves' slightly more than us. In addition, an insectoid species known as the Grecian are part of our nation, though they represent only a small fraction. Does that satisfy your interest, Ambassador Tarthus?"