Recent history of Quadrant: Adamant 4

[dumbluck]

Commodore Xavan glided into the room with ease, despite the slightly higher gravity of N’ildwab 4 compared to Canus. It was a small room, by her standards. Most rooms used by the Office of Treaties and Negotiations were bigger than this. It was barely 20 meters from floor to ceiling, and only 127 by 93 meters along the walls. Of coarse, like all Vaxin structures, it was virtually undecorated. Flat gray congealed water vapor made up the walls and ceiling, with only a few potted plants placed near the exits as decoration. The lighting was just a basic florescent gas assembly. Xavan fussed with the spartan room decor, bustling the several orderlies that she had in tail out of their daydreams. “Make that table a little higher. It should be centered between the floor and ceiling. I don’t want to appear to be resting on the floor!”

She shuddered at what the ambassador would have thought at such a blatant sign of weakness. “And move that…” She stared at the contraption, searching her mind for the name of such a strange device. It was a horizontal, soft piece of stuffed fabric, supported on a horizontal metal plate, polished until it gleamed. Another, longer plate was connected, but it was almost vertical to the floor. It seemed so odd, hovering there…

“…The chair. Move that chair to the center of the table. I don’t want the ambassador off to one side. And lower it to the floor! He can’t jet up here to get in it, after all!” She knew what rock-crawlers used such a device for, but she’d never actually seen one used. That would change shortly, of coarse; the ambassador was due any minute now.

She inspected the room again, but everything now seemed to be in order. She pulled out her notes and arranged them on the table in front of her. Still she waited; she glanced at the wall clock in annoyance. It read 14:02. The ambassador was late. Not that she was terribly surprised; she had been “fashionably late” to several negotiations. It was a cheap ploy, but it had its place nonetheless. To pass the time, she jetted over and gave the proposed treaty a quick check for typographical or other errors.

Proposed Treaty: Treaty of N’ildwab 4, 2402.8

As a gesture of good will between our peoples, the Vaxin Consortium is willing to allow the Kazharii Imperium to establish colonies in the N'ildwab system, with the following conditions:

• Said Kazharii Imperium colonies must be non-military in nature. Armed naval vessels, fighter craft, drones, unit launch-capable vessels, and troops cannot be constructed, re-supplied, or stationed at or in orbit of said colonies.
• The stationing of either Kazharii Imperium or Vaxin Consortium military naval forces in-system is strictly prohibited, save for the purposes of policing by the Vaxin Consortium the terms of this treaty.
• The Vaxin Consortium will not object to the presence of Kazharii Imperium stationary defensive systems, but only if they are positioned on or in orbit of Kazharii Imperium colonies. These include and are limited to armed planetary weapons platforms, armed orbital defensive bases, space mines, and armed satellites.
• Incursions into Vaxin Consortium space by Kazharii Imperium vessels are to be kept to a minimum (to be determined solely by the Vaxin Consortium), and specific Vaxin Consortium permission must be obtained prior to any incursions into Vaxin Consortium space by armed or launch capable vessels.
• The Vaxin Consortium can, at it’s sole discretion and without prior notice, use any means it deems necessary to monitor Kazharii Imperium activities in said system to ensure compliance with this treaty.
• The Vaxin Consortium can, at it’s sole discretion and without prior notice, destroy any Kazharii Imperium colonies, units, and/or naval craft found to be in violation of or housing units in violation of this treaty without fear of retaliation.
  

She looked up as the Kazharii ambassador entered the room, an air of importance surrounding him. She tried not to stare as he sat down in the chair, and then looked up at the table. She was still staring as he fumbled with the controls, and then finally brought the seat up level with the table.

[ July 31, 2002, 11:10: Message edited by: dumbluck ]

[Fyron]

That is too restrictive for our tastes. You can have N'ildwab to yourself. Just stay out of our claimed space, and we can co-exist peacefully.

[dumbluck]

Naxiv Civix no longer bothered to curse under his breath; he did it loudly and frequently. He cursed the fates that had played this malicious joke on him. He cursed his luck, which seemed to be nothing but bad. And most of all he cursed whichever Superior Officer’s idea it was that had forced him back into this most undesirable of positions, under the most undesirable of circumstances.

The day his world crumbled like a day old sandcastle had started innocently enough. It was a particularly beautiful sunrise; at least for Canus 5, anyway. Since there were no clouds to block it that morning, the light from dim, distant Canus sparkled through the large amounts of stellar dust in Canus 5’s upper atmosphere. Canus was only bright enough to overpower some of the night’s stars, but as it’s light played across the stellar dust, it twinkled like an entire galaxy of stars. It was truly breathtaking.

Not that Naxiv had any breath to take, of coarse; but he was awed, nonetheless. Then he went to work, happily tilling the soil and tending to the crops in his sector of the farm. As he worked, he contemplated just how fortunate he was to have been assigned to the Farms project. He had heard rumors that the units in the mineral mines hadn’t had a day off for 3 weeks straight. But that was ok with him; he was just glad that he worked on the farms instead of in the mines. He didn’t ever want to leave the farms.

Of coarse, now he realizes his folly in actually saying those words aloud. He had done nothing less than invite the cruel fates to stick their fingers into his life to stir things up. But at the time, everything seemed to be going his way. His seemed to have found his calling. He’d finally found something he’d enjoyed. Everything was looking up. He should have known better.

It was during the lunch break that his entire, happy world came crashing down around his sonic input devices. Mail call usually occurred in the mornings, but today there had been some foul-up in the mailroom, and it arrived late. So it was that he received one short, curt, world-shattering telegram during lunch:

“Civix, Naxiv, E2, re-assigned to the Orbital Construction Platforms as Construction Operator. Report to Transport 34-5p at 11:27 today for immediate transfer to OCP – 2.”

He groaned as he glanced at the clock; it read 12:32. He disconnected from his Battery Recharging station and went to his commanding officer to explain the situation. 2nd Lt. Hycix Batav was very understanding, of coarse. She told Naxiv to report to the transport pads immediately, and she would take care of the rest. Unfortunately for Naxiv, Batav was very busy that day. She never exactly got around to sending a memo to the Construction Ministry that day explaining why Naxiv had arrived late. In fact, the incident was purged from her RAM by other, more important information before she had a chance to save it to permanent storage. Which is why Naxiv was met at the transport pad by MP’s.

After 3 days in a holding cell, several interviews by Security Ministry investigators, and a disciplinary rank reduction to E1 for tardiness and insubordination (later repealed), Naxiv was released to the Ministry of Construction. There he was put to work on OCP – 2 with his old friend, “Hardnose Hadix”. And so, in the coarse of 72 hours, Naxiv Civix’s life has come full circle.

[ August 12, 2002, 11:08: Message edited by: dumbluck ]