Up until this point, the other Draconians (and the rare offworlder) who have been passing through the main hall of the Perceptum, in everything from plain uniforms to elaborate half-armored battle dress, have given the small gathering their polite disregard.  Smoke Alarm is an unusual sight just being Smoke Alarm, but on the other hand, these passersby known a noble of Draconia when they see one, and such as Sereth would not bring an untrusted person into this building.

With Smoke Alarm's ill-restrained display, this changes.  Not that most of them break propriety to stop and stare; it would be more accurate to say that their lack of notice becomes more studied, almost pointed.  Sereth does notice that a couple of proctors wearing the uniform sashes of the Ministry of Secrets have started to hover a bit closer to the group, though not interjecting their presence as yet.

Fadreen seems a bit at a loss to respond to her friend's outburst; Gilso is giving Sereth a somewhat agitated and nervous look.

'...It's coz they're big bullies...' Smoke Alarm was going on, passionately arguing Kang political theory, which observed no real difference between interstellar politics and schoolyard bullying, as it should be. But gradually she eyespied the tension in the hall, in her friends, and wondered what she was missing. 'What?' she asked, outlooking around her for cleaners or something.

Sereth's eyes flickered.

"Enough. The way to achieve change, is not to force it - whether through force of arms, or through making things uncomfortable. The Fists were mislead, most of them, and the answer is not to make them hate us. The answer is to make them want to be -like- us. Show them there is a better path, not a path of hatred. Your way, is dividing Arsuran as surely as the Fists were doing, Smoke. Let the once oppressors not be the oppressed. Let the once oppressors be our friends, our confidants. Let them stand together to form a new world, a new order. Warlock did what he did out of fear, of a greater evil that was coming if they were not stopped - and he saw his way being the way to stop it. He was wrong, but he and the Fists may still have valuable insights as to how stop this destruction from happening." A deep breath. "They feared us. Not you and me - they feared Draconia. They feared going to war with her as they had with the human outlying settlements, because we function as one. I was there, on Arsuran, to investigate what was happening, because the Emperor had grown concerned. THey drew us in. And we did what they did not expect - we came at them with words, with peace. We, hopefully, converted one of their leaders to our cause. Shall we undo all that by now resorting to the methods of our ancestors?" A quiet nod, and his hand held up to stall the proctors. "Gilso, Fadreen. You are doing well from the sounds of it. You are doing exactly what I would have done. Without half my training." His eyes focused. "Some battles are fought with force of arms." His hand touched his blade for a moment. "Some, through deception. This battle though, was started with words - and with words it must be finished, and that is the hardest battle of all." Sereth knew what he spoke of - too many knew either the warrior, or the diplomat. Few knew both - Smoke was one of the few who had seen him in full flow as both, and she had also seen how quickly the warrior could become the diplomat - or vice versa.

Make friends with the Fists! Caretakers might as well be made Kangs! No ball-games, no fly-posts, no to-dos might be Sereth's way, but that seemed no way at all to Smoke Alarm. All would be blank walls and cleaners by the time Fists were outgoing, and then it would be too late. Too late for youngsters, too late for the ones on the streets being taken to the cleaners. It would all happen all over again. Sereth and Fadreen seemed like visitors to her, accusing and say-so. The old terrors of a young life welled up inside Smoke Alarm, until she could hardly hold them anymore and she had no clever words and she was lost in an unmapped city, its bigness falling on her.

Pouting furiously, Smoke Alarm spun around, turning her back childishly on Sereth and Fadreen and Gilso. Looking downward, she folded her arms tightly so as to hug herself. It was an old Kang habit, surviving from their youngest days, a way to hide the fear on their faces from each other, a way of ignoring and living with the nightmares that had lurked around every corner of Paradise Towers. Because sometimes a Kang could not be as brave and bold as a Kang should be.

At the end of Sereth's speech, Smoke Alarm spun back around, finding her key. 'But this battle didn't start with words. It started with sky-flies and fire falling from the clouds, with wipeouts and unalives. Then it was taking street-people to the cleaners for disposing. Where did they go? Should we be talky and loiter and try to make them like us, while more and more are taken to the cleaners for not being like them?' she argued passionately.

'It was me and Fadreen that show-and-telled people that the Fists are not icehot, that they're only muscle-brains and meanie-heads. We show-and-telled the Arsuran people to be brave and bold as they could be. We show-and-telled them how to fight them without fighting, a to-do that is no to-do. No wipe-outs, no making unalive, that is the Kang way. Isn't that what you two are doing now?'

"Yes," says Fadreen firmly.  "And look at what happened!  Mr. Warlock made the machine that he'd given them 'break' and got rid of it.  He got them to take the people they'd collected together into the centers, and let them go.  But he only did it by finding the ones who would listen, like Ms. Erysk, and talking to them.  There's only so much you can do without 'wipeouts', Smoke Alarm.  But we're doing it.  We'll keep on doing it."

'Well... Good!' Smoke Alarm agreed furiously, wondering what, exactly, they were even arguing about, since she'd kind of forgotten now. She was glad to hear the street-people had been let go; she hoped they'd get places to sleep now. 'But I only got Erysk to listen to me after my, um, "campaign of civil disobedience" show-and-telled people they weren't icehot, show-and-telled them there are other ways. More, she took me to visit their brainquarters, so Traveller could talk to Warlock...' she corrected. She reached for words, finding the show-and-tell coming together even as she said them. 'Eyespy, we can't just be talky and loitery, else they'll be slowpokes and do-nothings. And, yes, we can't just be making to-dos and wall-scrawls, coz they'll be meanieheads. We need to talk with one mouth and be brave and bold with the other.' Smoke Alarm wondered briefly how one could have two mouths, then went on. 'It's a two-dog attack, a chocolate bar and stick way. That's our way.'

"That's all ready-steady, then," Fadreen says, a little less anxious.  "Don't worry so much, Smoke Alarm.  We can take care of this."

With Smoke no longer causing so much of a display, the Ministry proctors hover nearby for a while as the two Arsurans acquaint Smoke and Sereth with the state of things there and how the people they've left behind are doing.

Time rolls on, from mid-afternoon to the first beginnings of evening.  Sereth notes a few messages showing up on his personal datapad.  One is a request from Legate Aratannan for a meeting the following day.

He responded to the messages of any importance as he could, filing the rest away for a future time. But the message from Legate Aratannan could not be ignored. He confirmed immediately that he could meet, at a time of place of most convenience, as he did not, currently, have pressing engagements.

He then went and found Smoke.

"Smoke. You're going to have to entertain yourself for a bit of tomorrow. I have a meeting I need to attend. Try not to get into any trouble? My people, though a far cry from the Fists, or other such dictatorial groups, can be quite hard on law-breakers."

'No, not ready-steady, that means, um... ready.' Smoke Alarm corrected Fadreen, wondering herself at the need for the steady word anyhow. But that was how it went. 'You mean righty-tighty. I think. Sometimes I don't even knowhow it all goes.' As they got talky, Smoke Alarm asked what Fadreen had been doing and about Arsuran and how Peet and Mrs Maglup and Old Gaross and all the rest were going under Fist rule, about the new Kangs on Arsuran and how they found ways to oppose the Fists. Making wall scrawls and spread chaos, she hoped. It was good to talk and catch-up and hear about them; it was almost like being back with old friends again.

*

Sereth found Smoke lying on the floor of her room and reading one of the comic books Traveller had picked for her. She was getting good at it now; she didn't even have to sound all of the words out. The big ones like "pow!" and "zap!" were easy-peasy, and the pictures helped explain things. But she leaped to her feet when Sereth came in. 'I can? Icehot! I was getting kind of yawny here. Don't be a worry-wart, I won't get into to-do.' she promised, then added with a customarily cheeky Kang grin, 'They'd have to catch me if they can first.'

"It's not that easy, my friend." His face went grim. "If you caused an issue here, you would not find the incompetent troops of the Fists after you. You would find some of the best organised, most highly-trained soldiers of any galaxy after you." He sighed quietly. "And given I brought you here, I would be honor-bound to catch you."

'Kangs had to-dos with musclebrain soldier-boys when we was little kiddies. And we won and got the food and arrowguns.' Smoke Alarm recalled confidently, one of the few mentions she'd made of the old, old times, one of the earliest battles the Kangs had fought and won. 'Then the soldiers got taken to the cleaners, and we had Caretakers, but they was slowpokes.'

She clapped her hands together in glee at Sereth's last words. 'You could chase me! Catch me if you can! That'll be icehot fun!'

Grimly.

"I'll make you a deal. Stay out of trouble, and I'll give you one chase before myself and the Traveller part company."

Smoke Alarm eyed Sereth, then solemnly raised her hand to the Draconian noble with her littlest finger extended. 'Pinkie-swear?'
This message was last edited by the player at 07:00, Thu 12 May 2016.

He looked Smoke's finger, in slight confusion. HIs studies had not gotten him that far. He just closed his hand around hers, his other hand over his heart.

"May I be the last of my family, and be forever without honor if I fail to keep up my side of the bargain."

'Well, you don't have to do all that.' Smoke said after some thought, eyespying her unhooked pinkie protruding from her little hand in Sereth's big hand. It was scaly but soft, like a Rezzie's purse. 'Pinky-sweared. I promise I'll be a goodie two shoes. No ballgames, no flyposts, no to-dos.' she vowed with all the solemnity of a Blue Kang. For Sereth, she would obey the "keep out" and "authorised personnel only" signs and stay out of to-dos and no make wallscrawls, but she couldn't say she wouldn't run if chased.

'Wait, what do you mean "part company"? I didn't know you had a business.'
This message was lightly edited by the player at 03:15, Tue 12 Jan 2016.

"My time travelling with you is drawing to an end. My emperor had a mission for me; it is now complete. I now report to him, and receive my next assignment." He smiled. "You and the others can now explore without me dragging down your fun, yes?"

'But, but then I'd have to be the yawny sensible one to Trav.' Smoke's face fell with dismay. Mayhaps she hadn't known Sereth long, and he was yawny and a bit of a caretaker, but he was her friend and they'd been through a lot of to-dos together since escaping Arsuran, fighting Daleks and cleaners together, and he'd saved her from the orderlies and rezzies at the hospital. He'd become the fatherly figure she'd never known. She couldn't imagine not seeing him again. 'Will we still be visitors? Mayhaps you could comeout on the talkiphone box on weekends?'

Legate Aratannan's response to Sereth proposes a mid-morning meeting at the Red Pavilion, the elder Legate's current residence on the palace estates.

The chief attendant managing the Blue Pavilion suggests that while Sereth attends to business, he can delegate one of his assistants -- a novice in the Ministry of Ways name Taliro -- to guide Smoke Alarm through a tour of the open areas of the palace grounds and the portions of the palace itself that are normally open to all Draconian subjects.  These areas, Sereth knows, comprise an area that is part museum, part shrine: it's a pilgrimage destination and it is also a place that is meant to impress on privileged visitors the full scale and history of the Draconian civilization.  Admittedly, this provides a certain potential for mischief, but Smoke Alarm has, after all, promised in an apparently sincere fashion.

When Sereth arrives at the Red Pavilion, he notices that the usual collection of servants in palace livery are not in evidence; there are only a few members of Aratannan's personal staff on hand.  They guide him to the study where Aratannan is studying an old book.  When Sereth enters, Aratannan rises so that the two can exchange the formal greetings appropriate to their rank.

"I thank you for coming, Sereth," Aratannan begins, when that important duty is complete.

Then he surprises Sereth by taking from one of the shelves of the study a rinaro kinetic sculpture, from the Empire world of Sansarradi.  He seats himself on one of a pair couches opposing each other across a low occasional table.  He sets the sculpture on it, carefully winds its trigger mechanism, and sets the sculpture in motion.

At that, his manner changes, growing less guarded, yet more serious.

"I have been reviewing your reports on the Arsuran incident, and the current state of affairs in the Fists' sphere of influence," Artannan says.  "A course which holds a proper balance between the security of the Empire, and maintaining discreet detachment from the affairs of other worlds, I think, but one which causes disquiet in some quarters, I believe you will agree.  By limiting Draconia's involvement in that matter, I believe you have forced a stalemate on the political ambitions of some highly placed individuals in the Ministries."

Earlier:
"We will see, Smoke. It all depends on where I am assigned. I know you, and the Traveller, find my job boring. It is all talk, not action. I have seen it in your eyes on those few occasions I have started to talk; but whilst action is often required first, talking is always how we achieve peace." He doubted that any of his friends from the TARDIS truly understood the thrill he got from bettering a political opponent with words, rather than falling back on force of arms. Even the Traveller; whilst she clearly appreciated that it was better to do that way, he doubted if she truly understood how Sereth felt when weaving a web of words about him. The way he had disarmed Warlock? That was the highlight of his journeys with the Traveller, not beating the Dalek, or those other things. Talking down the crooks on Space Vegas as well had its thrill; but it was blunt intimidation, not skill, that won that day.

Current:
Whilst he was hesitant in allowing it, he also knew that left entirely to her own devices Smoke Alarm could be an even bigger problem than on a guided tour, so he nodded in acquiescence. He then prepared for his meeting with Aratannan.

With the formal greetings out of the way, he seats himself down, and listens carefully. Everything Sereth did was for Draconia, was for the Emperor. Political machinations was not a game he got involved with; but it was not the first time he would have been dragged into it. Everything he did, especially now, with his rank, had the potential to cause such; but as long as what he did was for the good of Draconia, the good of the Emperor, or the good of his family's honor? He had no regrets.

"Yes, I was somewhat concerned about that; but it was for the good of Draconia. How many new enemies did I make from my actions?" A wry smile - an acknowledgement that his beliefs did not always make him the most popular.

Smoke Alarm nodded in agreement. 'I knowhow. That's how we made peaces at the Great Pool in the Sky. The Doctor show-and-telled us that. Yawny talky time, no to-dos... It just doesn't outlook it does anything, is all.' Frowny-faced, Smoke reflected on Sereth's parting company. Well, he wasn't outgoing yet, and mayhaps there was still time to sort something out or change his mind. Suddenly, the Blue Kang glomped the Draconian ambassador, flinging her arms around him and hugging him tight, before scurrying shyly off.

*

The next day, Smoke Alarm was turned out in her finiest Kang fabshion, with a packed lunch and her Puddy, waiting for Taliro, her "tower guide". She understood Taliro would show-and-tell her all the ways, how to track back through the towers and parks, and mayhaps give her a map. Sereth had suggested this, and though she figured it would be kind of yawny, Smoke had readily accepted. She wanted to eyespy the artchitecture and learn her way around if she got chased, and mayhaps there would be a giftshop at the end.

Aratannan regards Sereth levelly.  "Our good Keeper of State, may his name be stainless, seems to have expended many late hours on the offices and hierarchies necessary to administer worlds liberated from the hand of an oppressor," he says.  "And noted the Empire's good fortune to have so many skilled and shrewd officials ready to fill those posts.  Not a few of which share his clan's name or control assets vital to his clan's interests.  He is truly diligent in planning for such burdens and contingencies."

He gives a mirthless smile.  "The Keeper of Warcraft, honored be his ancestors, was less than eager to see the fleets and the blood of Draconia's sons spent in such adventures.  For which we may all be sincerely grateful.  And of course the Keeper of Secrets now sees his star rising in the heavens and his clerks and scurriers well employed.  To the safety of the realm, to be sure, though Minister Dresst has never been one to shy away from doing well while doing good."

Smoke Alarm thinks she recognizes Taliro when he arrives at the Blue Pavilion; she's getting to be pretty good at Draconian faces.  He was around once or twice the previous day.  Taliro's robes and sash, though still of a wide-shouldered and severe cut that seems to her most impractical for climbing or jumping across rooftops, are simpler than many of the others' she has seen, with only a simple embroidered pattern to distinguish it.  He's also wearing a simple satchel slung across his body.

He carries out a deep and elaborate bow to Smoke Alarm.

"Good morning, Miss Alarm," he says.  "I am Taliro, Ninth Initiate of Ways.  I'm honored and pleased to be your escort today: I've made a study of Human protocol and custom, but I've little practical experience in them.  You will do me a great service in furthering my understanding of your people's ways."

'Miss Alarm? Mayhaps you have the wrong number? I'm Smoke Alarm. But you can call me Smoke, if you like only one name.' she explained, she thought graciously.

She outlooked wonderingly at Taliro. 'You want the knowhow about us? Well, then – let's how-you-do.' Smoke Alarm began the formal, martial dance of the how-you-do, gesturing Taliro to follow when it came time to clap hands. She curtseyed, then added 'Now you try.'

Sereth paused for a moment though.

"I don't understand the Fists. Not only their claimed motivations; but the way they went about things. Picking off outlying human worlds? Yeah, I can see that. Earth hasn't always gotten involved when their colonies have problems. But delivering a message to the Emperor, that could only be viewed as a threat? What did they hope to achieve? They couldn't believe that we would stand down in fear? And were they really willing to engage in war, when no matter the victor, they would be so weakened against this threat they claim they were 'saving' people from, that they couldn't possibly stand up to it." He was also dubious that the Fists were nearly as dangerous as they claimed - it was one thing to swoop down upon lightly defended outposts; quite another to declare war on a powerful empire - currently warlike or not.