Re: SDNW4 Story Thread 1
Posted: 2010-09-07 11:36am
ALTACAR INTERNATIONAL STARPORT
FEBRUARY 3400
Agent Spozavik, Imperial Bragulan People's Department of Limited Foreign Interaction and Human Affairs diplomatic trade liaison Mr. Dryznyl Shpechtkov sat on a bench at the middle of the starport lounge. All around were many Altacarians, waiting for their flights, and all keeping a respectable distance from the big Bragulan. It was sensible, for it was rather awkward sitting beside a bear, even if that bear was an excellent conversationalist with a nice green hat and tie.
Spozavik... er, Dryznyzl Shpechtkov looked up and saw his comrades emerge from the bathrooms. They walked over to him and sat down. Not on his bench, because his bench could barely support his own weight. No, each of them sat on separate benches, which they had dragged off to use for themselves after shooing away the humans who were sitting on them.
Spozavik's stormtrooper-chauffeur sat beside him. Head high, ears perked, scanning the crowd for any danger signs, ready to react with violence of action at any an instant's notice. Though they didn't carry any weapons with them, for their cover was that of diplomats, an average Bragulan could easily maim an unaugmented human - and even lightly augmented ones were fair game.
The other Bragulan, his aide Gryza, sat herself on a bench directly facing Spozavik. She was a pretty little thing, with reddish-brown fur and small beady eyes, and a long bushy tail that complimented her hips. Spozavik had enjoyed watching her from behind, sensually swaying her tail with each trot.
"So," she licked her nose cutely and brushed her whiskers. She looked around them and gestured to the mobs of humans walking around the starport. Overhead, a transparisteel ceiling allowed them a good view of space, with ships flying to and fro while Altacar itself floated in the backdrop. "Boss, explain to me why we're here again?"
"We're here to play our small part in the Imperator's Fifty Year Plan, as the patriotic citizens that we are. Glasnot and Bragstroika means that the Bragulan Star Empire will begin to open itself, however slightly, to the galactic community. As our dear Koprulu Zone neighbors happen to be composed entirely of human degenerates, we will try sharing the light of Bragulanity to other, more distant, nations instead." Spozavik answered straightly.
"But these more distant nations are also almost entirely composed of human degenerates." Gryza pointed out.
"Yes, but their distance makes them slightly better human degenerates than our neighbors." Spozavik quipped back.
"I see," Gryza smiled. "Then our neighbors won't have a chance to be shown the light of Bragulanity and some such?"
"We've already showed the Sovereignty the light of Bragulanity over at Majella. And the ongoing cultural exchange with the Byzantines at that Jenova place... it's a work in progress. So we'll try to do a different kind of exchange today, I hope. If things go well." Spozavik shrugged as he pulled out a dossier on the various nations of the Spinward Expanse - which Bragulan terminology simply called the Spin Zone. He liked that label, since he was the one who coined it (actually a subordinate coined it, but he had the initiative to take the credit for it). "So we shall be heading to Umeria. I have received communications from parties there interested in trading with us. I've also contacted their ministry of Foreign Affairs, to see if we can set up an embassy there, and they have invited us to come over."
"Hmmm..." Gryza wrinkled her nose as she examined another dossier on her clipboard. "The Umerians are a nation of scienticians, technocraticos and bureaucrats. Reasonably progressive and permissive. They seem to be a well-to-do and reasonable power, non-confrontational, non-combative, risk-averse and primarily defensive oriented. They're a sound choice of business partner in the Spin Zone. Low risk. Much like the Altacarians.”
“The Altacarians were the ones who recommended the Umerians to me, actually.” Spozavik said. It was true, the Altacarians spoke very highly of the Umerians. “I'm actually eager to do business with them. Between the overgrown Zigonianish lizardoids at the NenAltKik, the isolationalist Four French Empires, and that Prussian Star League, the Umerians were by far the best choice.”
“Are you sure they'll be willing to do business with us? We're building the Shepistanis Gunstars. The Umerians might not like that.” Gryza cocked her head quizzically.
“It's the business of business. If the Umerians want, we can build them Gunstars of their own too. Though I'll have to ask Sonny if he can spare more gulag workers...” Spozavik thought about it for a moment. “Anyway, I'm sure the Umerians will understand.”
“If we want to trade, then what can we offer them that interests them?”
“Well, I hear they have a shortage in chromium, and one of their few sources of that mineral is a puny human shitnation called the Feelipeens. Certainly the mighty Bragulan Star Empire has plenty of chromium, and by exporting it to Umeria not only can we have trade but we can also deprive that puny Feelipeeni shitnation one if its poor impoverished people's few sources of incomes. Always a plus.” It was a masterstroke, Spozavik thought so himself.
“Good plan,” Gryza chuckled mirthfully. It did something interesting to her mammaries, and Spozavik couldn't help but oogle. Discreetly. Which was why he put on a pair of Bragulan-sized Gay-Ban sunglasses. Gryza glanced at him and smirked. “Hmm...”
“What is it?” Spozavik pretended not to notice that she had noticed him. It was a risky proposition, since Gryza was a fellow diplomat, which also meant that she was a fellow IBGV operative. With a license to kill, issued by the People's Civil Registry of Ideological Correctness. Still, he had no problems with flirting with danger, especially if it came in the form of a well-endowed redfurred female with lots of tail, Spozavik thought so himself.
Gryza was examining something on her clipboard itinerary. Meanwhile, panicking maintenance people were rushing to the bathroom the Bragulans had defiled. Spozavik's stormtrooper chauffeur tensed slightly, readying himself to kill the humans if they ever came for him for what he had done.
“I'm wondering about our flight plan,” Gryza said hesitantly. Spozavik had to give it to her, she was playing her part as his supposed secretary perfectly. “If we follow the original course, we'll have to take a chartered starship through the Prussian Star League. I'm not so sure about that. What relations do we have with them?”
“Absolutely none whatsoever. You have a point, though.” Spozavik considered this. She was right. There was nothing between the Bragulan Star Empire and the Prussian Star League, and they had no intentions of changing that. The only power in the Spin Zone the Bragulans consorted with was Altacar, and that was on a purely business-like basis. Years of IBGV-honed paranoia began circulating in Spozavik's brains (actually, the paranoia had already begun circulating in Spozavik's brain in the groggy moments immediately before waking up in the morning, as such was the extent of his training). Would it be safe to travel through Prussian space? Maybe. Could the Prussians be trusted? No. Without any diplomatic relations with them, there was a fair chance that the Prussians could easily abduct them as they traveled through – and nothing could be done about that. Afterwards, they would undoubtedly subject them to mind-numbing torture and interrogation, Spozavik was sure. He had good reason. A large source of information Spozavik had gone through was composed of Solarian action movies – and many of them had this 'Germanian' subspecies of humans as the evil antagonists. Spozavik knew that these Prussians were an aberrant strain, a mutation, of these 'Germanian' subspecies and were thus not to be trusted. Ever. So, he made his decision. “On second thought, let's not go through Prussia. It is a silly place.”
“Alrighty then. I'll make new arrangements for our travel plans.” Gryza said cheerfully as she pulled out her DynaBRAG compact communicator – a stainless steel vacuum tube-powered brick, with an integrated supercomputer and a radium battery – and made the call. “There we go. I chartered a flight, and scheduled us passage through a warpgate to Umeria. I took the liberty of charging all of it to your account.”
“Hrm,” Spozavik raised an amused eyebrow. He didn't mind, since his account charged all expenses to Gryznk as well. “This cuts a few days off our travel time. Does this mean we get some private time?”
“Quite,” Gryza wrinkled her nose, which made her whiskers bounce, and Spozavik thought he could see her blush under her face furs. “The plane leaves in half an hour. We better get going, boss.”
“Right.”
As one, the three of them – Spozavik, Gryza, and their stormtrooper chauffeur – got up and headed for the boarding area. Spozavik brought his attaché suitcase with him and felt the reassuring weight of his decoder ring on his fingers. He was all set. He was going to Umeria.
“Welcome aboard and thank you for flying Xenu Spacelines!” said the little human stewardess as they boarded the DC-8. “Have a safe trip!”
TO BE CONTINUED
FEBRUARY 3400
Agent Spozavik, Imperial Bragulan People's Department of Limited Foreign Interaction and Human Affairs diplomatic trade liaison Mr. Dryznyl Shpechtkov sat on a bench at the middle of the starport lounge. All around were many Altacarians, waiting for their flights, and all keeping a respectable distance from the big Bragulan. It was sensible, for it was rather awkward sitting beside a bear, even if that bear was an excellent conversationalist with a nice green hat and tie.
Spozavik... er, Dryznyzl Shpechtkov looked up and saw his comrades emerge from the bathrooms. They walked over to him and sat down. Not on his bench, because his bench could barely support his own weight. No, each of them sat on separate benches, which they had dragged off to use for themselves after shooing away the humans who were sitting on them.
Spozavik's stormtrooper-chauffeur sat beside him. Head high, ears perked, scanning the crowd for any danger signs, ready to react with violence of action at any an instant's notice. Though they didn't carry any weapons with them, for their cover was that of diplomats, an average Bragulan could easily maim an unaugmented human - and even lightly augmented ones were fair game.
The other Bragulan, his aide Gryza, sat herself on a bench directly facing Spozavik. She was a pretty little thing, with reddish-brown fur and small beady eyes, and a long bushy tail that complimented her hips. Spozavik had enjoyed watching her from behind, sensually swaying her tail with each trot.
"So," she licked her nose cutely and brushed her whiskers. She looked around them and gestured to the mobs of humans walking around the starport. Overhead, a transparisteel ceiling allowed them a good view of space, with ships flying to and fro while Altacar itself floated in the backdrop. "Boss, explain to me why we're here again?"
"We're here to play our small part in the Imperator's Fifty Year Plan, as the patriotic citizens that we are. Glasnot and Bragstroika means that the Bragulan Star Empire will begin to open itself, however slightly, to the galactic community. As our dear Koprulu Zone neighbors happen to be composed entirely of human degenerates, we will try sharing the light of Bragulanity to other, more distant, nations instead." Spozavik answered straightly.
"But these more distant nations are also almost entirely composed of human degenerates." Gryza pointed out.
"Yes, but their distance makes them slightly better human degenerates than our neighbors." Spozavik quipped back.
"I see," Gryza smiled. "Then our neighbors won't have a chance to be shown the light of Bragulanity and some such?"
"We've already showed the Sovereignty the light of Bragulanity over at Majella. And the ongoing cultural exchange with the Byzantines at that Jenova place... it's a work in progress. So we'll try to do a different kind of exchange today, I hope. If things go well." Spozavik shrugged as he pulled out a dossier on the various nations of the Spinward Expanse - which Bragulan terminology simply called the Spin Zone. He liked that label, since he was the one who coined it (actually a subordinate coined it, but he had the initiative to take the credit for it). "So we shall be heading to Umeria. I have received communications from parties there interested in trading with us. I've also contacted their ministry of Foreign Affairs, to see if we can set up an embassy there, and they have invited us to come over."
"Hmmm..." Gryza wrinkled her nose as she examined another dossier on her clipboard. "The Umerians are a nation of scienticians, technocraticos and bureaucrats. Reasonably progressive and permissive. They seem to be a well-to-do and reasonable power, non-confrontational, non-combative, risk-averse and primarily defensive oriented. They're a sound choice of business partner in the Spin Zone. Low risk. Much like the Altacarians.”
“The Altacarians were the ones who recommended the Umerians to me, actually.” Spozavik said. It was true, the Altacarians spoke very highly of the Umerians. “I'm actually eager to do business with them. Between the overgrown Zigonianish lizardoids at the NenAltKik, the isolationalist Four French Empires, and that Prussian Star League, the Umerians were by far the best choice.”
“Are you sure they'll be willing to do business with us? We're building the Shepistanis Gunstars. The Umerians might not like that.” Gryza cocked her head quizzically.
“It's the business of business. If the Umerians want, we can build them Gunstars of their own too. Though I'll have to ask Sonny if he can spare more gulag workers...” Spozavik thought about it for a moment. “Anyway, I'm sure the Umerians will understand.”
“If we want to trade, then what can we offer them that interests them?”
“Well, I hear they have a shortage in chromium, and one of their few sources of that mineral is a puny human shitnation called the Feelipeens. Certainly the mighty Bragulan Star Empire has plenty of chromium, and by exporting it to Umeria not only can we have trade but we can also deprive that puny Feelipeeni shitnation one if its poor impoverished people's few sources of incomes. Always a plus.” It was a masterstroke, Spozavik thought so himself.
“Good plan,” Gryza chuckled mirthfully. It did something interesting to her mammaries, and Spozavik couldn't help but oogle. Discreetly. Which was why he put on a pair of Bragulan-sized Gay-Ban sunglasses. Gryza glanced at him and smirked. “Hmm...”
“What is it?” Spozavik pretended not to notice that she had noticed him. It was a risky proposition, since Gryza was a fellow diplomat, which also meant that she was a fellow IBGV operative. With a license to kill, issued by the People's Civil Registry of Ideological Correctness. Still, he had no problems with flirting with danger, especially if it came in the form of a well-endowed redfurred female with lots of tail, Spozavik thought so himself.
Gryza was examining something on her clipboard itinerary. Meanwhile, panicking maintenance people were rushing to the bathroom the Bragulans had defiled. Spozavik's stormtrooper chauffeur tensed slightly, readying himself to kill the humans if they ever came for him for what he had done.
“I'm wondering about our flight plan,” Gryza said hesitantly. Spozavik had to give it to her, she was playing her part as his supposed secretary perfectly. “If we follow the original course, we'll have to take a chartered starship through the Prussian Star League. I'm not so sure about that. What relations do we have with them?”
“Absolutely none whatsoever. You have a point, though.” Spozavik considered this. She was right. There was nothing between the Bragulan Star Empire and the Prussian Star League, and they had no intentions of changing that. The only power in the Spin Zone the Bragulans consorted with was Altacar, and that was on a purely business-like basis. Years of IBGV-honed paranoia began circulating in Spozavik's brains (actually, the paranoia had already begun circulating in Spozavik's brain in the groggy moments immediately before waking up in the morning, as such was the extent of his training). Would it be safe to travel through Prussian space? Maybe. Could the Prussians be trusted? No. Without any diplomatic relations with them, there was a fair chance that the Prussians could easily abduct them as they traveled through – and nothing could be done about that. Afterwards, they would undoubtedly subject them to mind-numbing torture and interrogation, Spozavik was sure. He had good reason. A large source of information Spozavik had gone through was composed of Solarian action movies – and many of them had this 'Germanian' subspecies of humans as the evil antagonists. Spozavik knew that these Prussians were an aberrant strain, a mutation, of these 'Germanian' subspecies and were thus not to be trusted. Ever. So, he made his decision. “On second thought, let's not go through Prussia. It is a silly place.”
“Alrighty then. I'll make new arrangements for our travel plans.” Gryza said cheerfully as she pulled out her DynaBRAG compact communicator – a stainless steel vacuum tube-powered brick, with an integrated supercomputer and a radium battery – and made the call. “There we go. I chartered a flight, and scheduled us passage through a warpgate to Umeria. I took the liberty of charging all of it to your account.”
“Hrm,” Spozavik raised an amused eyebrow. He didn't mind, since his account charged all expenses to Gryznk as well. “This cuts a few days off our travel time. Does this mean we get some private time?”
“Quite,” Gryza wrinkled her nose, which made her whiskers bounce, and Spozavik thought he could see her blush under her face furs. “The plane leaves in half an hour. We better get going, boss.”
“Right.”
As one, the three of them – Spozavik, Gryza, and their stormtrooper chauffeur – got up and headed for the boarding area. Spozavik brought his attaché suitcase with him and felt the reassuring weight of his decoder ring on his fingers. He was all set. He was going to Umeria.
“Welcome aboard and thank you for flying Xenu Spacelines!” said the little human stewardess as they boarded the DC-8. “Have a safe trip!”
TO BE CONTINUED