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  • 📅 May and June 2024 are YE 46.4 in the RP.

RP [IRC of YE 46] A meeting of cultures

"So what of of that husband?" One of the Nepleslia a asked. "I know you folks tend to have several, so who was so lucky? And so bold as to let you in here unsupervised?"

The woman in question was indeed overweight, about sixty pounds if she were human, based on her height and what Toidorno had seen with other Senti women, or even with humans and Nekovalkyrja. Her build was distinctly more filled out than the lithe and thin builds of most tsulrati he had seen so far, but that silver skin and blue lips combination was distinct, strikingly alien. Just alien enough. Perhaps with some makeup, this specimen could even pass for human. Bit then she spoke, revealing the twin sets of vocal cords in her accent and the seeming harmony of her voice. "Missing in action. Survivor mission at Turassiel, just after the fall. He's... Still missing."

"The fall of Turassiel was several years ago," one of the Senti soldiers piped up, tilting his head. "If he was still there, we would have found him and returned him to you by now."

"I know. But he survived a serious crash before, during the war. I have to hope he can do it again."

"Girl, that's..." the ID-SOL shut his mouth after a moment, offering a gentle squeeze to the Yamataian's shoulder. "Anyone to help?"

"The other died at Glimmergold. I got a fiance, now. And a daughter. They help a lot. But Sacre has trouble with Nepleslians. Old trauma. Not my story to tell. Keeps me from talking about Lev much." Giving a shrug, Ali set poured herself a small glass of the whiskey. "He's a Hell of a pilot, too. Flew a Viper, like it was a part of him. Easy as breathing and the sneaky bastard scared the Hell out of me on training sorties. Always managed to sneak up on my Ginga. To this day not sure how."

"This Sacre a pilot, too?"

"Nah. Doctor, combat medic, few other hats. Fights like a demon and instinctively defends people. Even from themselves. She's unapologetically true to herself and her beliefs, stronger than you'd ever believe, and a force of nature all packaged into a gorgeous Separa body. She's got a missing partner, too. But we're kinda focused on our daughter right now."

"Adopted?"

"Yup. And makes me proud as Hell every day."

"Fair enough. Hey, so when you did that whole hug thing and embarrassed an Admiral on Fleet broadcast, you had red eyes. They're green, now. You finally get those fixed?"

"In a manner of speaking. They would have healed on their own in a few years." Giving a shrug, she took a sip from her glass. "So what's your story, big man? You got a name?"

"Jerome. I ain't too special. Retired out a few years ago, rejoined to fight the Kuvvies and they stationed me at the embassy as a mechanic for the diplomatic vehicles. Been here ever since. Hell, married a sweet nurse down at the hospital. Apparently your senator was giving her a hard time."

"Ain't my senator. I ain't Shuristan, anymore. Sorry about the senator, though. I'm Aliset. Just call me Ali."

"And I'm not the one who had to wrestle a tricentennial out of his work long enough to take his meds or eat. Just means I had to learn to cook. Got pretty good at it."

"Coming from a Nepleslian, that's either real good or you finally learned how to heat up a ration pack properly."

"Not like you're gonna eat it," he laughed at the dry humor. "You want an actual beer or you just looking to drown your troubles in getting dumb?".

"Lemme finish this glass and I'll go get a crunched thumb."

"Atta girl."
 
Toidorno sat with his back to the bar now, eyes on the action around him as he listened. The open-roof above allowed him a view of the sky. No world-station ceiling, no dome... Though he understood that some kind of shield could be erected up there in the event of inclement weather. His furred ears tilted and turned this way and that; Tsulrati voices were, at least, not too difficult to pick out. He heard talk of Turassiel, but there had been too many new words shared in the talk with Khelas and Dusali, and he wasn't sure what the word meant at the moment. Glimmergold... That he knew. The Clan had participated in that momentous final battle... Sacre? An unknown word. Lev, Viper, Ginga, their meaning unknown in the context. He was about to tune in to the other Tsulrati nearby when...

"I'm Aliset. Just call me Ali."

'There she is.' Toidorno thought to himself took a third drink of his hoppy beer, the bitter stuff going down with an acerbic little kick. A bit of beer-froth remained on the fur above his upper lip, but he quickly licked it away. He actually found a beer-related opening when he heard Aliset speak of getting a crunched thumb, the same beer he was now drinking. He turned, extending his claws to tap out a four-taloned-tune in rapid succession on the counter to get the tender's attention. "Crunch-Thumb for the metal one when she comes over, on me, if you please."

Buying someone a beer usually got you at least a brief conversation with a person in most cultures, didn't it? Besides, if he returned to Clan territory without at least trying to interact with the person who had so deeply impacted Senti culture, he'd surely be criticized for missing a unique opportunity.
 
That didn't take long as Ali set finished her drink and played a few games, continuing to chat and make friends. Still, she strode up to the bar and raised her hand to place an order only to be cut off by a glass of beer being placed in front of her. Her order turned to a "What the fuck?"

"Crunched-Thumb. Courtesy of the big man down the bar" was the bartender's reply.

"I mean, he's cute and all, but kind of in my gay phase right now."

"Gay enough to say no to a free drink? Honest, lady, I just serve the drinks. Go talk to him at least."

And that's exactly what Ali set did, with a roll of her eyes and a small laugh of "Alright, what'd I do to piss off the diplomats, now?"

The Heir of Skydas took a stool next to Toidorno, offering him a small smile and taking a much enjoyed sip of her beer. "So. Bought me a glass of my favorite. How could you be so insightful?"
 
The Qaktoro's ears were already trained on Aliset's speech by now. He wasn't sure how current he was on his 'Trade'. What was a 'Gay Phase', he wondered? Some other transitory state of the Tulsrati peoples?

When she joined him, he lifted his glass in greeting, choosing to be honest about the choice of beer rather than to give a false impression. "No insight, just luck. I was interested in a beer that was... stronger 'in the hops'. The bartender said 'Crunch-Thumb', and once I was sure he wasn't... giving me a threat, that is what I chose." He took another thoughtful drink, enjoying the bitter flavor, even though it was deadened-down by his own sense of taste.

"I am Toidorno Sejgui, the Acting Ambassador to Yamatai from the Hidden Sun Clan. I wished to meet you, Aliset. I regret I do not know your rank, nor the titles you prefer. I... have heard several titles ascribed to you since I first heard of you from two others of your species."

I figure they're speaking Trade here? Since that's the native language of the Imperium. Or we could switch them to Yamataigo.
 
"This beer is a favorite because its flavors remind me of my fiance. Warm, bold, with a bitter edge and earthy notes, masking a subtle sweetness that brightens it, though I imagine most can't see that sweet." Aliset gave a small laugh before taking a healthy draw of her beer. "How is your Yamataigo? I am a simple Taii, Navigator of Gunship Koun. Nothing more. Some titles I have earned and claim with some frequency. But the two you spoke to... Only a few would bother to speak of me at all. And only three or four of a station to talk to you so nonchalantly, Ambassador. That I know of, at least. If you wish, I can clear up some of their biases and misconceptions."

She had a pretty good idea of who he had talked to, and some part of her wondered how their attitudes reflected the welcome she would receive if... No, when she was forced to return to the megastructure of her birth. That piece of her was swept away under a rising tide of bitterness over that same people's cowardice in abandoning her and all who had followed her when she had needed them most. "They likely think me young and brash, barely more than a child at my... Nearly forty, by the Yamataian calendar."
 
Again, Toidorno chose honesty, replying in Trade. "My Yamataigo is... less than good. But practice in it is useful."

He then worked his tongue around the Yamataigo language once more, though he had to discretely check the definition of the word 'nonchalantly' on his translator device. He gave up after failing to figure out how he could search for the word. "My people prefer to experience an individual themselves, before... coming to conclusions." he said carefully. "I think a good first thing to clear up is your preferred title. Your rank, at least. It is important to me that I address you properly."

He was hesitant to identify Khelas and Dusati, for he had told neither woman he was going to seek out Aliset for conversation. If Aliset discovered their identities on her own, at least, he could probably be held harmless. There was no ban on the Clan communicating with this person; the Senti were members of the Empire, and Aliset was a member of the Empire.

"You may or may not know that the Hidden Sun Clan is not a member of the Empire. We are Allies, bound by words of treaty." he began, eyeing the froth in his glass as it remained heady and a bright, happy white. "Shurista is a member. If I may, I would ask your feelings about this. Do you support Shurista's joining to the Star Empire?"
 
"It is better than mine was but a few years ago," she switched to the language, her accent seeming to thicken and tighten as though she had trouble with the flatness of the language, like she was constantly fighting to imprint some of her native tonality to it. "But better than my Essian. I would prefer to speak in a language you are more comfortable in. My rank is Taii."

She looked down into her beer, taking a swig of it and wiping the froth from her lip with a napkin. "I am proud of Shurista for correcting her cowardice and finally becoming a member of this community. Whether as a part of Yamatai or if they had remained independant. Though it will be harder for them to slink back into the shadows next time someone kills us by the millions. But I am not of them, anymore. Where was Shurista when Turassiel, her sister, split under Kuvexian weapons? When Nataria burned and Glimmergold shattered? It was hiding between stars. Like scared children, not a proud people."
 
"Taii Aliset, of course." he said, his ears flattening a little with embarrassment. The language-switch must've made him miss that she'd already told him her rank, though he realized it now.

He noted the strong language Aliset used; she seemed to be just as passionate as Dusali and Khelas had been. 'Correcting her cowardice'... 'Slink back into the shadows'... "I am a little unclear as to the position you hold, or might have held, when it comes to the leadership of the Senti. It sounded as though you had a... hereditary title? Is that accurate, or did I misunderstand?"
 
"I wish to hold no titles for them," Ali gave a small shrug. "But if you're referring to Heir of Skydas, that's... Not complicated, but difficult to explain. It means that I am the first warrior of my people. Skydas is ou--their God of necessary evil. And of war. A warship so powerful as to exterminate the enemy of the people who became the Senti. On its own. Captained by a woman who watched the homeworld burn, and whose name is the Senti word for wrath. The Heir of such a ship is the warrior, the one with the right to command the might of a god. And right now, by time in service and deed, that's me. And as much as I hate this title, it has proven... Useful. Every Senti joining any military, whether intentionally or not, follows my example, and every one that dies is my fault."

She finished the comment with another swig of beer. "Senti do not use hereditary titles. Only honoritive ones. Their gods are historical figures whose names are now concepts that they lived by. Or were made famous by. I speak many languages. Concepts often get misplaced."
 
Toidorno's tail slowly tapped against the legs of his chair as he listened, wondering whether his ancestors aboard the ships of the Exodus imagined a godlike warship which might've saved them from destruction at the hands of the Death Wraiths... But that was the Clan's history, and was not meant to be the subject of his musings. Toidorno attempted to follow along as best he could. Skydas was a God of necessary evil, and of war. It took the form of a warship which required a Captain. And the Captain was a person called the Heir of Skydas. And somehow, Aliset had been determined to be this Heir, because of her actions.

"How does the Empire seem to feel about your status with your people?" he asked cautiously. "Are they... understanding? Worried?" He did not ask, but the thought that surely her Captain might fret over her presence on the ship she served on, given the vehemence of the feelings some Senti seemed to experience when thinking about Aliset.
 
"Don't know." She gave a shrug. "Can't say I care. I'm shooting for a command in a few years. Started as a bomber pilot, now a Navigator. Hoping to be officially named Second Officer, despite that I already act as the right hand of my XO. Not like it's a big or important ship, just a little Plumie. Fact of the matter is that Skydas is a myth, and its Heir is just a title. A string of words meaning that I was the first of thousands. Not the best, not the highest ranked, just the first. My people is the people of Kikyo. You, Nepleslia, Abwher, Tsenlan, or Elysia, my loyalty is to the people who live in this sector, executed through Yamatai's blessing. Not to Shurista. Not to the Empress. I couldn't care less what my species and the corrupt and stagnant cesspool of my former home thinks of my doing what was right. And I don't care what the Empire thinks of the opinion of a people who have been isolated so long they have forgotten the meaning of community and the responsibilities of the Civil Service to its defence and upholding. The opinion of these Marines and my crew is far more important to me."

The passion that edged her words bit like a frozen blade, her voice levelling with a small hiss reminiscent of her Separa'Shan love, despite her serene smile and even features, as though choking back an all consuming rage, sorrow, or even betrayal. "I am the only of my species on that ship and feel less alone than ever among Shuristans. I don't know how welcome I will be if or when I am forced to return to Shurista. But I feel someone will be foolish enough to cause me to keep my promises. But to you, I'm just a soldier. Any titles my species bestow mean nothing to you, Ambassador. I would prove myself and earn a title from you before you should worry about my standing."
 
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Toidorno found himself a little surprised at Aliset's apparent nonchalance when it came to the Empire's worries. Her two fellow Senti had seemed terribly concerned with matters of title and appearance, and Toidorno's perception of the Yamataian culture was that it, too, valued titles. The Yamataian use of honorifics seemed to mirror the Clan's focus on 'Sâbu & Fabota'; rank and position, essentially. But she was 'shooting for command', a phrase which Toidorno understood from context, though the word choice worried him a little. She referred to the ship in question as a 'Plumie', and with his beer in one hand, he used the other to peek at his translator device. It seemed to shrug, unsure of what a 'Plumie' was.

He couldn't help but raise his eyebrows at her intimation that her loyalty wasn't to the Empress, first and foremost. She further stated that she didn't care what the Empire thought about something, which was like an aftershock to the initial earthquake. Toidorno covered this by taking a sip of the bitter brew, hoping that his furry expression wouldn't be easily read by this metallic being. He did wonder, for just a moment, about how Tsulrati hair worked... Toidorno couldn't help but be skeptical at her claim that, to him, Aliset was 'just a soldier', but he felt it wouldn't be prudent to disagree with her. Being an Ambassador was... difficult. He preferred to tell others the blatant truth, but in this diplomatic role, there were things better kept unsaid.

He could at least tell the truth about one aspect of his feelings. "I have to admit... some of what you've said is a surprise to me." he told her, taking another drink. "I should say... I feel surprise. Not fear, but a... It is unexpected." He struggled to find the words. "You do seem to have much in common with the people of Ne-ples-lee-ahh, in the... interest in the people as a whole."
 
As her words had been spoken, her hair had seemed to wick, just for a moment, some sweat or water, but as it dried, it carried that scent of ice and mint like her emotions. A passing Nepleslian tsulrati soldier seemed to bristle as he passed through her scent, subconsciously affected by her emotions as she suddenly calmed, his own scent of warm earth and sun baked metal seeming to crush her anger far better than she could. Perhaps, then, their hair was a delivery mechanism for a complex system of pheromones, allowing them to distribute emotional load and coordinate responses without the need for words, in some cases.

But that was beside the point as she slipped her beer. "I suppose so. Nepleslians have changed a lot. But my first husband was one. I suppose he had bigger impact on my attitude than I had thought. I don't think scaring you off would benefit either of us. Honesty being the best policy, here." Giving another soft shrug, Aliset placed her beer on the bar, her hand hovering over it as she thought about her next words.

"Turassiel was my fault. Part of why I try so hard for them. If I had ignored a distress call and violated Shuristan law, first contact with the Senti would never have happened. A Flotilla of fuellmakers and farmers would not have been shattered by Kuvexian weapons. If I had never joined the Star Army, the Katamuran pirates would have continued being too scared to attack Kuvexian convoys and would never have brought the wrath of their Navy. I... Still don't know how Turassiel was found. But it was. And millions died. Would you be willing to represent and in some ways lead your people with that kind of blood on your hands? I am not special enough for that kind of responsibility."
 
The attentive Qaktoro picked up the reactions, but not on what had caused it. He smelled the brisk and icy mint, but he had no way of knowing its significance or the effect it might have on other Tsulrati. Instead, he figured the bristling of the steel-skinned Nepleslian was just another Tsulrati reacting to Aliset's very existence.

He heard talk of Turassiel. From the context shared by Khelas and Dusali, Toidorno had figured out that Turassiel was probably like Shursta; another mobile city no doubt crafted from metallic soul-bodied. Dusali had spoken of 'refugees' from that place, there had been mention of the Kuvexians attacking it, and it had been said to 'fall' at some point. Aliset revealed now that a Flotilla had been 'shattered'. Aliset revealed feelings that Toidorno interpreted as guilt, expressing regret over Turassiel's discovery, and the deaths of millions, and she then posed a question.

"Most leaders of interstellar nations are killers of millions." he observed. "Many of the deaths they cause are of their own species, as well. Not just soldiers sent to die, but civilians who met their end because of choices made." He paused, drinking as he considered his own military action against the illegal colony on Pilano. He and his team from the Yome Ismâopate certainly hadn't killed millions, but in their mechs, they had slain many in the battle to subdue the colony. Toidorno felt no guilt for those killings, but there were several reasons for that. First and foremost...

"To answer your question, yes, I would, but... our people have distinct beliefs about the nature of death, and the... path that comes after. Your Senti, I understand... carry on in your Burial Steel. We believe in reincarnation, in the soul's movement to a place and period of judgment and, after, to a new life. We... also believe that there is a plan and a design, and that events occur according to that plan." He shrugged, his tail whisking. "You say you are not special, yet the universe continues to tell you that you are. First warrior. Heir to a war god. One who is called 'The Traitor'. The Sword of Shurista, and the first of your kind to join with the warriors of Yamatai. Friend of these Ne-ples-lee-ahns. More, I'm sure, that I do not know."

He killed his Crunch-Thumb, signalling to the bartender for another, one for Aliset, and one for himself, as he waited to hear her reply.
 
"Sword of Shurista isn't one I've heard before." Aliset snorted before finishing the beer. "My bride just calls me Ali. All she needs to. Daughter calls me Metal-Mom. Most of my crew only refers to me by rank or title when things get serious... Or someone higher rank than our Captain's around. Many of my instructors referred to me as 'often wrong and rarely boring' when I was in training. I was also the first to undergo a Soul Transfer. First of my kind to be given Yamataian military implants. Still suck at using power armor. But for all those firsts, none that have not been done by someone else before me. Maybe when I die, they'll gild my bones, more likely I'll find myself waiting forever to be reincarnated or joined with gods that abandoned me as a child. If I'm honest... I don't know, anymore. All I can do is pave a way forward for any who choose to follow. And hope I find something worth placing my faith in."

Looking down at her glass, her lips pursed, considering how to break off from an uncomfortable subject. "Your tail's moving a lot. Your species have some body language queues I should know about?"
 
Toidorno's hunter's instinct told him to continue to pursue, but his nascent diplomatic instincts overrode them, and he withdrew. The topic of his tail was a far easier one to discuss than the previous weighty topics.

"Ahh... It is indeed a body language, as you put it. Our tails speak, in a way. Slow curling movements can mean playfulness. Faster movements from side to side can mean excitement, or..." He checked his translator, finding a rather difficult word. "A-gi-ta-tion. If a Qaktoro's tail is fluffed, we are quite terrified. Not-fluffed but very still, we are likely hunting. Tails normally always are in motion at least a little, unless we are hunting." He clicked his claws against his glass, creating a brief and quiet little tune. "I came here to this... bar... hoping to speak with you, Taii Aliset. I felt I had an... obligation... to make the attempt. My people would want me to encounter you while at the Conference, to hear your own words. They know little about the Tsulrati and the Senti. I worry how they will respond to news of the Burial Steel practices, but I think they... will be quite interested in you. Rarely in the Clan does a... single person figure so greatly in the path of many, many people."

He couldn't remember how many Senti there were on Shurista, suddenly. Many more than were on the World Station and the Colonies combined, at least.
 
"All I did was open a door," Aliset offered a smile. "Can't say I didn't look forward to meeting the Clan of the Hidden Sun. I spend a lot of my free time studying those who surround my nation, both friendly and not... But your luck is notable. Only reason I am here at all is because my Captain decided we would be observing the Conference to learn different diplomatic methods. I don't need that training, yet. The skills taught at the Shuristan College of Diplomacy and Policy where I trained as a civil servant have served me well. Even managed to pull my captain out of a few fires."

Shaking her head, she started in on her second beer, knowing that the alcohol in it was oft used by her species as a liquid sweetener and processed by her body as a simple sugar. Though she had no frame of reference for how such a drink should taste to someone whose blood was suspended in water and whose flesh was carbon. "Burial steel can be pretty shocking. Should have seen Sacre's face when I explained what her necklace was made of. The one I gave her, anyway. Or her father's when I explained what part of the rings he made us is made of. We see it as a living avatar of family and ancestry. Gifting a shard can take many forms. From ingots between couples who don't know their dynamic yet, to more often items crafted specifically to represent that dynamic. My knife on Sacre's hip and a small forged leaf charm on her necklace representing her roles as teacher and protector. I'm working on a set of scalpels to represent her role as a healer."

She figured she should return the favor on the subject of body language. "My species uses pheromones. Hormones in our blood indicative of our emotions break down in the sweat glands. Carried by hairs to spread in the open air. Longer hair is someone who has faster emotions. Helps even the responses of those around us. Distributes the scent further over a longer time to make it generally weaker and more of an average. Sacre says I usually smell like stress. But she's Separa'Shan. It doesn't affect her, though she's learning what the smells mean."
 
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