Sheera looked out over the landscape. The sun was just rising over the dunes giving the sky an unusually orange look. The air still smelled from the rains though. She grabbed her monocular and looked out over the dunes and into the insect lands. By the gods and demon why had her people brought these here. Her mother told her about when they used to be slaves to the almighty Hive. Hmm… Now they threatened anyone left on the forsaken landscapes. There would be much to do later in the day when the sun masked the landscape. For now she thought back to the story her mother told her long ago… The one where the world died…
Malev Undercity
Kempsterton Deeps, Damis District
Archives of Lord Tertiary Sadi Kismayu
“Clear.”
“Thank you.” The owner of the voice fumbled with something in the near-dark, and a small orb-like object drifted into the air. It flickered for a moment before suddenly bathing the room in white light, clear as day.
Sante Carnot, Archivist First Class of the Curator-caste, smirked at the spots on the wall where he were certain the sensors were. Yeah, look at that, you clever bastard. It was an old game of theirs. The Eldar Lords liked keeping extensive records. The Curators, keepers of knowledge that they were, wished to compare notes, compile them, and other such things. For the most part the Eldar would only take it so far. Many of their sensitive documents, to say nothing of some the Curators would call not-so-sensitive, were locked up in truly dastardly places. Lord Kismayu, for his part, had assembled a warehouse completely without light of any kind. How exactly it was kept that way was a mystery. But this time- this time Archivist Carnot had a reason to be here that would be respected. Still, when the light came on-
The room was filled with bookshelves. Not neat, ordered bookshelves. Manuscripts, pamphlets, the occasional - was that a scroll? - long, elaborate printouts, and paper writings of every kind.
It was the first of seven rooms. The microfilms, honest books, and computer records were later on. And Kismayu had insisted they go in order. If the Curator wanted a look at his records so badly, he had said, he would take them in proper order and appreciate the art of it. Something told Carnot that this let him buy time to move the things he really wanted to keep quiet.
His aide, a Mr. Getty, seemed to agree with the dismal state of affairs. He looked rather downcast at the sight. “Sir? Are you sure we couldn’t try someone else today? He’s trying to make us miserable.”
“Positive.” Carnot smiled at the pile, trying not to think of what this would do to his schedule. “Sadi Kismayu is probably the most reasonable Eldar Lord we have to deal with. He keeps his things together. Besides, he’s close enough to Penteleimonist he actually paid attention to the Senate request for the rest of the Cataclysm records.” Getty did not look convinced. “Look. We’ve been over this. You want to go over the list?”
The aide seemed determined to do so. “Haskalah.”
“Paranoid. She’d move half of it.”
“Zorion.”
“I don’t think he has it all together. He’d never tell us.”
“Khazardi.”
“Too old-school. He’s on the other list, the longer list, remember last time? We don’t talk to him.”
“Alexander.”
“I am not dealing with her and you damn well know why.”
“Olhing.”
“Out of town. We’ll see him later.”
“Penteleimon.”
The archivist stopped to think about that one. “Too crazy. She’ll probably bake us cookies, replace her records with back issues of Reader’s Digest, and hope we don’t notice. Look, we’ve got a timetable here.”
The aide shrugged and picked up a box of manuscripts.
Thirteen hours and four rooms later, the Cataclysm records were recovered.
Flashback
The day was beginning, or at least it did in the sense that there was no sun out in the regions the armada lurked in. Training was going on way out here in the backwaters of the Pax space. Soldiers do not question orders though, and so the training continued.
It all began when the Pax called together a meeting of nations. Even nations the Pax had officially not recognized were invited to attend. Later tribes of the forsaken lands called this the day the angel of death came down from the sky…
Christie Island
The Pax craft was coming down in the usual way, on fire from the drop and making some civilians in the airport soil themselves. The craft landed as it always did though… with little more than a thud as the bay door dropped. It had been a long time since this particular body got any use Tlant thought as he stepped outside. A man of about 65 stepped out of the pod. He was tall and thin, with a distinguised looking face. A long gray beard came down from his face, however there was no mustache on his face. An odd style even in the body’s prime. The jet black wings he unfurled showed signs of age at their edges. As another craft came in for landing a shadow was cast over him. A small child cried as the man’s eyes glowed in the shadow. Saying nothing he stepped into the escort vehicle he was to be riding in. Strangely enough it was a simple, unmarked limo. No flags. Nothing to signify its passenger. Tlant continued to the meeting.
Free Pacific One
President’s Office
“Just ensure that both fleets are aware that their there to protect our evacuative aircraft, and, in the future, our humanitarian task force. Their not there to attack either side, or even to observe…I want them staying completely out of the way, unless provoked by either the Airbusians or the Rezellians.”
“Understood, sir.” Chris replied. “I’ll put the orders out right away.”
As the Secretary of Defense left the room, an aide brusquely walked in, and put a message on Terrus’ desk. “We just received this from the Pax, Kroidrik thought you’d want to see it yourself.”
Quickly reading the message, Matt raised an eyebrow. “Their calling a meeting of the leaders of the East Pacific? How many nations has this been sent to?”
“All of them.” The aide replied, laying down an intelligence report from the FPIA.
“All of them?” The president asked, genuinely surprised. As he looked at the report, he whistled in appreciation. “They’ve even got warlords, tribal chiefs, and faction leaders on here! Where is the meeting? And do we know what its about?”
“Rillanon, and, not a clue. FPIA says their working, but, they’ve got nothing right now.”
“Talking about unusual…ah, well, knowing the Pax, it’s probably some attempt to mass convert the East Pacific. No reason not to attend. Have the pilot change course, I’m sure we can in-air-refuel via our base in Krechzianko.”
“Aye, sir.”
A number of hours later, Free Pacific One touched down in Rillanon, Mark Bellhaze and the other FPS VIPs in Rillanon meeting Terrus as soon as he exited the plane. After a short discussion, in which they all confirmed that none of them knew any more then one another about the upcoming meeting, the group set off for the meeting hall. They were the first to arrive at the Magisterial Hall (which was being used for the meeting, as there was no other space large enough), and the six of them that entered (no more then that being allowed, due to space restrictions) took one of the delegation tables at the front of the room.
Tricorne
Bighat’s home
“…A meeting?”
“Yes, sir. With the Pax, on Christie Island.”
“… The Pax?”
“Packilvania. That big, militaristic nation to the south-west, keeps posting promotional material through your letterbox?”
“… Letterbox?”
Kennith Klobuk started to speak again, but stopped himself. Bighat John Bowler was being extraordinarily difficult. He had to be doing it on purpose.
“I think they’ve tried to take over the world at least once.”
“What, letterboxes?”
“Wha- No. The Pax.”
“Ah. Sooo… What’s my motive for going, again?”
“You get to ride on your private jet. The one with the bar.”
The Bighat coughed. “I’ll have to attend, I suppose… For the nation, you know.”
Kennith took that moment to mutter something inaudible, and leave. He hadn’t got very far when he realised what he had done. More importantly, he realised what the Bighat might do.
[Deleted, ignore]
The sun hung huge and red in the sky, well, it was the sky it didnt move anymore either, that was all thanks to them, ,
but under it things still moved, small things, insignifigant things, some once were great, some once were puny, but now they all moved through the murky half light,
one such thing moved, he did daily, and with purpose, things to do, and People, he used the term rather loosely now, to see, he had not recieved a message for a few hundred years from those out there, but still he waited hope was about all he had left as the afterlife had evaded him twice before and now he was sure it ignored him entirely.
he was old, bordering on ancient and had seen many things, his body was piecemale now
parts from brothers, and comrades, and enemies had kept him going these last several thousand years as he searched for survivors or anyone he kept caches of spare parts all over just in case
and the termites helped when he needed it, they were good people far removed from the days of old when they were just tiny insects, now they stood almost a foot tall and they were a lot less uppity than those bedamned fish people, “Farking Dolphins” he muttered as he thought about them, or perhaps he just thought it, he was never too sure lately. today though the radiation level was a bit high, and he remained in his bunker and remembered.
Lazlowgrad, Lazlowia
The Parliamnet
The sun shined down on Lazlowgrad, the growing capital of Lazlowia. Everybody were busy, working on something. Looking down on Lazlow avenue, one could see the Parliament. There President Lazlow had a meeting with the Secretary of the Lazlowian Communist Paty, Lörcs Gábor, the Minister of Foreign Affairs, Radics Jázon, and Lazlow’s wife, Costa Rita, who also take part in the political life.
“- So this Pax country wants a meeting with the nations of the East Pacific. And they invited even us. Strange. Althoug we are an active country, we just entered the international political stage a year ago. Anyway, wath the hell is this Pax?”-asked Lazlow.
“-A big, imperialistic country. Don’t know too much about them.”-said Radics-“-But in my opinion we should attend to this meeting. It is probably important. And they event invited those, who they don’t recognise. We shouldn’t offend them, and go to that meeting.”
“-I agree.”-said Lörcs.
“-I take your point. If this is so important, than I will go there myself. Lörcs will govern till I come back. Rita, you’ll stay here. I think, they still remember, what you did last time, when you were there.”
"-But that was only an accident. And that idiot Fünffinger coused only trouble. By the way, what happened to him?-asked Rita.
“-We executed him. That was his last mistake.”-said Lörcs.
“-I know, honey, that it was only an accident. The <Vaszilij Vodka> is really strong. But I’m not so sure, that the others know that fact. You must understand that.-said Lazlow, and smiled on Rita.-”-Ok, no more talking, prepare my plane, I’ll leave immediately."
-Later at the Lazlowgrad International Airport-
The private airplane of Lazlow took off from the airport, and turned it’s fligth towards Christie Island. Three Mirage III fighters escorted it till the end of the Lazlowian air space. The trip lasted a few hours, so during the trip, Lazlow relaxed and talked about the possible couses of the meeting with Radics. But they had no clue, what is really going on.
-Christie Island-
The plane landed at the airport, and the Lazlowian delegation, leaded by President Lazlow himself, get off from the plane. They get in into the black cars with the Lazlowian flags on them. The engines of the cars started, and the cars moved off towards the place of the meeting.
The Northern Grand Duchy New Irem
When her personal aide put the printed communication on her desk, Lady Ileana De Corde, Foreign Minister of the Grand Duchy of Reziel, paled. An invitation to a meeting in Rillanon an invitation coming from the Interstellar Hive of Packilvania. A shiver of cold running along her spine, she sighed. Instinctively, she would have ignored the invitation. What she had heard about the Pax was definitely enough to but she couldnt. The chances to offend them were simply too high, and those to bear the consequences of that offence simply inexistent.
Closing her grey eyes, she carefully evaluated the chances she had. But in the end she knew perfectly well she had none. With the Grand Duke leading the Iremian fleet in the South and Lachdanan busy with the military re-organization of the Northern Grand Duchy, there were only two suitable persons and one of them was already attending Delegate Richardsons meeting. Feeling the sudden sensation of her throat drying because of an inexplicable fear, she grabbed the receiver of her phone.
«Brigit, please arrange me a flight to Rillanon as soon as possible. Ill have to attend a summit»
[hr]
Somewhere in the Grand Duchy
1500 years after the Pax Wars
Had its sarcophagus of vitrified rock allowed it to, the creature would have frowned. It was so sure there were screams and noises all around it. It couldnt be. The battle was over. They had lost it centuries millennia? ago. Year after year, the creature had begun to slowly sink in a deep slumber. To forget. To survive.
Humans. All around it. The creature couldnt be wrong. And one of them. It knew the man. It could hear his words clearly enough. And his voice
«Go on! This is the point! Do not give up! It has to be here»
With a terrible effort, the creature grinned, sensing the radioactive glass imprisoning it beginning to crack. Once again, it had managed to survive. Relaxing, it waited. Freedom was at hand.
Safe House, Outskirts of Tasman City, Kangarawa
“What will you have, Peter?” Chantal moved toward the bar a little self-consciously. Although she and Mappins had been friends for years, this was the first time he’d ever arrived unannounced since she’d been forced into protective custody apart from her family.
“Just soda would be fine.”
Pouring Peter his soda, and herself a glass of red wine, the tall red-head walked back and sat down on the chair opposite him after handing him his drink. Taking a sip of her wine, she glanced warily at him over the rim of her glass.
“What’s up?”
Wordlessly, he handed her what looked like an official communique. Silently she read it, and then read it again, looking up at him questioningly when she’d finished.
“I don’t want to ask anyone to go to this one. I don’t like or trust the Pax, and never have. With the situation in Airbus right now, I can’t go, but the choice is completely yours as to whether or not you’d mind going. Seriously Chantal, it’s up to you. I honestly don’t care one way or another.”
Raising an eyebrow, Scythes looked at him, a slight smile playing around her lips. “Then why bring it over here in the first place? Obviously you were hoping I’d say yes, and you’ve always known about my fascination with the Hive mind. Come on, Peter. Play it straight. Which nations have been invited, and what’s it about?”
Mappins shook his head. “I don’t know. Every nation has been invited, from tribal chieftains all the way up to Matt Terrus and the Kandarinese Federation. You are right that I brought you the invitation because I know how much the Pax interest you, but that’s the only reason I brought it. My advice is to say no.”
Chuckling, Chantal took another sip of her wine. “You know? I believe you. But there’s no way I’m going to turn down an opportunity like this.”
Christie Island
As the passenger plane landed, Chantal and her two bodyguards quickly deplaned, catching a taxi into Rillanon and entering the Magisterial Hall. Flanked on either side by Marks and Coons, Scythes moved close to the front of the room, behind the delegation from FPS, and the three Kangarawans took seats at a table in the second row.
As the Kangawaran delegation took their seats, Terrus turned around in his, smiling as he offered his hand to Chantel. “President Matthew Terrus, Free Pacific States. Welcome to the Magisterial Assembly. Might I ask where you hail from?”
At roughly the same time as Terrus made his introduction, a tall man in a black and red suit with ornate writings on the edges and far too many parts nodded to Mark Ballhaze. “Good evening, sir. I am here from the Kandarin Federation, for Lady Rosemary Oneida, who also bids you good evening. I am her…Speaker, so to speak. May I ask who you are?”
Mark stretched out his hand cordially. “Mark Bellhaze, FPS Ambassador to Rillanon. A pleasure to meet you, um…Mr. Speaker. How are you today?”
Thanking the aide who had introduced her, Lady Ileana De Corde entered the room, followed by the young Archangel who had volunteered to act as her personal escort during the meeting. Recognizing both Terrus and Bellhaze thanks to Reziels descriptions, she slightly bowed to them as a sign of greeting. Considering they seemed busy with their conversations, she decided to sit down without interrupting them, smiling warmly to the other Delegates.
Looking around, she tried to relax. It seemed the whole East Pacific had answered the invitation, sending its representatives to the ongoing meeting. Despite that, she couldnt forget about that shiver running along her spine. Shaking her head, she mentally teased at herself. The whole East Pacific. And the Kandarinese Federation. Not even the Pax could be so foolish to move against them all at the same time.
Silently, she waited for the meeting to begin and for the Pax to explain its meaning.
— Begin quote from ____
As the Kangawaran delegation took their seats, Terrus turned around in his, smiling as he offered his hand to Chantel. “President Matthew Terrus, Free Pacific States. Welcome to the Magisterial Assembly. Might I ask where you hail from?”
— End quote
“Thank you, President Terrus. Chantal Scythes, Vice President of Kangarawa,” replied Chantal with a warm smile as she offered her hand in return. “It’s a pleasure to finally link a name with a face.”
When Lazlow arrived, he saw, that there were quite a few people there already. It looked like everyone wanted to know, what was going on. He saw some people talking with eachother, so he found a place near them and sat down with the delegation. He greated the other delegates.
"-Good morning. My names is Lazlow, President of the People’s Republic of Lazlowia. Let me introduce the other members of the delegation. He is the Minister of Foreign Affairs, Radics Jázon, and he is my aide, Tar Béla. The others are my bodyguards.
Lazlow had actually two bodyguards, two female bodyguards to be exact. They were called Eva and Eszter. And there was a third, who was actually a secret agent. A half irish-half german man called Grant. He was there to look after the other delegates.
Everybody was anxious. They didn’t know what will come. Lazlow tried to stay calm, as he tried to join the conversation.
“Indeed it is,” Terrus replied, shaking Scythes’ hand. “How are things back in Kangawara?”
“Oh, quite well. As normal. Except-” The man stopped talking as Rosemary Oneida paused, taking in the conversation from her perch in the middle of that particular table. She waved an insubstantial hand in a gesture nobody would ever see from sheer force of habit, and continued, the man mimicking her every word. “Except that the Pax are probably plotting to kill us all. It’s not exactly news.”
In actuality, Ileana de Corde and Peter Mappins were incorrect. The Kandarin Federation had not been invited. It was simply too far away from the East Pacific. The Eldar Lords determined later that this was a wise move; had every known political entity been invited, the plan would surely not have succeeded. “Lady Rosemary Oneida” strictly represented the small, barely inhabited patch of land in the Mongol Highlands that was the Federation’s only (and dubious, if that) holding in the region.
Aleksander Vilmar had been distrustful of the whole proceeding and so sent his aide in his stead. The Eldar Lords recognized that realism was more important than formalities in cases such as these. Perhaps, they reasoned afterwards, this was one reason why they and their domains survived the cataclysm almost completely unharmed.
The Bighat arrived at the meeting after getting lost in what he assumed was a closet for 15 minutes. He found his aide at the meeting, who gave the Bighat a sweetie for managing to navigate that entire corridor, what a big boy.
Tlant walked up to the podium in the center of the room. He smiled and greeted his old enemies and friends courteously. He cleared his throat to signal he wanted everyones attention, and he pulled his wings in close.
“Good afternoon everyone. I am glad to see that most everyone made it here.”
He seemed to be taking mental note of who was missing.
“I come before you today both full of hope for the future, and also slightly nervous. It seems that the years without a body have made me unaware of my own body language.”
He slooped slightly to the left.
“You are all being handed documents by Hive aides. Upon reading them you will see that there are two different sets being handed out. The blue documents detail the steps the affected nations will need to complete to become vassal states of the Pax Empire. Those of you who are receiving the red folders are not to have that option. Red folders detail your official annexation into the Pax Empire Via Packilvania.”
Tlant surveyed the varied reactions of the attending nations.
“And just to make sure no one storms out of here, my guards will guarantee that no one leaves this room. Yes, your gurads may be able to force you out, but at what price? Do you really want to be responsible for the deaths of world leaders?”
With that Tlant walked over to the chair in the corner of the room and sat with an eerie smile on his face.