Aratannan gives a slight tilt of his head, what Sereth recognizes as one of the Legate's "tells" -- in this case, a nonverbal admonition of let us look at this from another direction..

"It is not so surprising.  Humans are many things that we are not.  Our civilization has endured such a very long time because it rests on layer after layer of tradition and proven practice, and yet because of that it has never scaled the heights of human empires.  How many 'Great and Bountiful' human empires have spread across the stars only to crash back into chaos again?  It is because their species has never learned, as a whole, to put aside its reckless and romantic ambition.  Very often they achieve amazing things because they are unwilling to recognize how foolish those things are.

"These Fists, now.  How does one reckon with the possibilities of such harnessed belief?  Such confidence in the correctness of their means and goals?  Their reach plainly exceeded their grasp, and yet for all the might that Draconia would have brought against them, you see how the greatest among us concentrate on how the existing power is divided, and how to create empires within empires.  Discipline and wisdom are strength -- yet they are, perhaps, innately reactive."

Taliro's essay of the Kang how-you-do is surprisingly credible for someone who has never seen it before, even if it is a little stiff and measured.  Smoke Alarm notices how his scrutiny takes it all in as she demonstrates it: if nothing else he takes it highly seriously, unlike a lot of people when Smoke first gives it to them.

"Fascinating," Taliro says.  "Now, where would you like to begin?  On the grounds, or in the palace?  I'm not what you would call a naturalist by profession, but I can identify most of the notable plants and animals for you.  I'm afraid that the portion of the Palace open to offworld visitors is of limited extent, but I should be able to show you quite a bit about Draconia's history and its culture over all that time."

Smoke Alarm carefully weighed up the two options. Although the park was nice and orderly, with everything laid out on straight lines, it was very wide and open, which still made her feel a bit uncomfortable. Birds and skyflies could come down on her. It just felt more natural to her to start in the building and work her way out, learning her way as she went. 'In the palace, pretty-please.' she said, being extra special polite. 'I like the tower.'

Taliro nods.  "Very well."

He leads Smoke Alarm from the Blue Pavilion toward the Emperor's tower.  The size of it is a little misleading to Smoke Alarm: the walk to get to the front doors is longer than she expected and by the time they reach it, it's looming over them much taller than she'd thought.  Taliro approaches the uniformed guards who flank the entryway and they exchange a complicated set of gestures and bows.  It's not really like the how-you-do but it reminds Smoke Alarm of how that is done by the Kangs.

Then they're inside.  This building is much fancier inside than the eyespying pyramid that Sereth took her to yesterday, and even though there are quite a few people going in and out on various tasks, it's quieter than she was expecting -- not only are people being hush-hush on their own account, but it seems like there's something built into the place that deadens and softens all the sound.

What catches Smoke Alarm's attention straight off as they're going in the great entry hall are huge figures that tower over them to either side.  They're all angular forms in planes and angles, in the shapes of giant Draconians, and each is in a different, bold color.  "Sazu warrior sculptures," Taliro tells her.  "They're fashioned all from paper. in the images of the twelve founding kings of the Empire.  Did the Legate ever tell you about sazu?  It's a strategy game: you choose how you try to win the game -- by taking all your opponent's sazu off the board, or by positioning your own so that his have nowhere to move."

Footing it up to the palace took ages, but it gave Smoke time to get ready-steady, pulling out her talkiphone and setting up the picture-taker function. 'Okay to take pictures?' she asked Taliro, getting the knowhow that they might be touchy about pictures. With his say-so, she started taking and lots of lots of pictures: of the palace, the doors, the guards; of Taliro, and herselfies with Taliro; Puddy with the guards; herselfie with Taliro, Puddy, and the guards.

She outlooked up and up at the great big paper statues looming over like towers themselves. 'Icehot!' she exclaimed, then caught her mouth as her words seemed so much louder than expected, bringing some outlooks her way. It wasn't that she was unwilling to be noisy, far from it, but this was a do-not-disturb place. Sounds didn't echo here like in most towers, it just stopped. Mayhaps there were caretakers or dogs or sleeping oldsters they needed to sneak around. So Smoke Alarm would be as quiet as a mouse.

'But they're made of paper – can't you just tip water on them?' she suggested a cunning tactic. Burning them was another option, but a Smoke Alarm would never suggest that. 'No? Well, what about running away? Does that work?'

Smoke Alarm turned around until she outlooked right up at a blue sazu warrior-sculpture. Blue and proud and fierce, it could almost be a Blue Kang. Her friends would love that. Curious as a cat, she approached the sazu to give it a feather-light poke, wondering how thick and heavy it was – was it like a stack of newspapers, solid and heavy, or would it just float away like a paper bag on the breeze?
This message was last edited by the player at 08:03, Sat 16 Jan 2016.

A slow pause.

"Assuming, just for a moment, that their means were wrong, but their motivations, to combat a greater evil that will bring untold destruction, is right? Then the best way to prepare is for Draconia and Earth to work together. Not invidually; that the greatest of humanity, work the greatest of our own people. It's a big assumption though."

He sighed heavily.

"However, I am sure that is not why you asked me here today. It is something that needs to be dealt with, but greater minds than mine will deal with it."

"Well -- no, I'm not sure that I've explained this correctly.  These sculptures are just sculptures, to honor the memory of the kings, and their foresight in coming together to make the Empire."


Smoke Alarm finds that the sazu sculpture is much more along the lines of the newspaper piles she was thinking.  Her fingertip feels the scritchy texture of parchment, but it doesn't deform the paper at all, much less budge it.  There must be layer after layer after layer of the stuff all folded inside it.  She thinks of Fadreen with her kites, and how the Draconian showed her how to fold little paper stars and birds.  How big must the sheet that they started this from have been?

She draws some scandalized glances from around her, rather more severe than for her earlier exclamation.

"Don't be so certain of that.  'Greater' minds than ours have been known to focus on far more petty concerns, and to attempt to direct the Emperor's accordingly.  I wished to warn you of that, before your foot fell into one of the snares placed for such as you and I.  This is not the court that it once was."

On the grounds of the palace estate, a little swirling wind kicks up from nowhere, and a wheezing, groaning noise starts to emanate from the spot as the form of a tall, blue box begins to materialize.

***

Nearby, a musical chirp sounds in the receiver implant worn by Guardsman-True Ensazin.  "Speak," he responds.

"Grounds Control here," comes the reply.  "We've registered the dimensional incursion again.  The phase disruption signature matches to within .005 zess.  Deploy to Quadrant Song, subsection Aria, block Mezzo-Alto.  Detain and assess."

"Understood, Control," says the guardsman.  He turns to his ready team, already checking the charge on his sidearm and loosing the scabbard catch on his blade.  "We have intruders on the grounds.  Come with me.  Our lives for the Emperor."

"Our lives for the Emperor," the three Guardsmen-Ordinary in his unit chorus in response.

They set off.

'I meant in the game. No mind, I'll get Sereth or Fadreen to show-and-tell me.' She figured it would probably be like snakes-and-ladders, or as Kangs played it in real-life, chutes and stairways.


Smoke was disappointed to find the paper statue so solid and heavy, even rigid, as sturdy as a concrete wall. It wasn't outgoing anywhere. Draconians were just like that, she'd found, especially Sereth. But how much more wonderful it would have been if this enormous statue of a warrior had simply leapt into the air and drifted on the breeze like a paper bag, like a dream? Eyespying the outlooks she was getting, Smoke Alarm stepped back. 'You should make them as light as pigeon feathers or paper bags, so they fly on the wind. It would be icehot.' she recommended sagely. She took some more pictures, then was ready to move on.

In reply to The Guardian (msg # 80):

Sereth had never had much time for political games. He might have been quite good at them if he had - he had the brain for it. But still...

"Not the court it once was? For better, or for worse?"

He feared he knew the answer, but better to be safe.

"That would be... novel," Taliro says, with a curious look on his face.

As he and Smoke Alarm walk on through the palace, Smoke notices that a lot of the things the Draconians keep in their brainquarters is like that.  Some are very elaborately detailed, but even the things that are like those sculptures, stark and simple, have something below the surface that you didn't suspect by looking at them.

A lot of what Taliro tries to show her is stuff that is supposed to be important for having been at such-and-such a place at such-and-such a time.  Lots of it has to do with fighting, which she knows is one way that many of the Draconians are unKanglike, and even some of the pictures are hard for her to make much out of -- Taliro says they're abstract images that stand for principles of virtue, like duty, and excellence, and truthfulness.

Smoke's attention is starting to wander significantly when, apparently at some unseen, unheard signal, everyone around stops what they're doing, and moves out of the way so that the carrydoors are wide-open and clear, and stand with their heads slightly inclined.  She sees a small group of Draconians moving down it.  There's a couple of obvious caretakers in armor walking ahead and behind the others, one in very swishy dark-colored clothing with a wide silver sash over it, and a pair in greens and browns who look like they're carrying big phones like Trav's Eye-pad, jotting down things as the swishy person says them.

"If it was for the better, there would be no need to warn you like this."

Aratannan nods meaningfully at the moving sculpture that is continuing its cycle of motion.

"I believe His Majesty will have your next assignment when you speak to him.  You will find it challenging, but I think it will be for the good that it takes you far from Draconia."

And Trav steps out of her Time machine, presumably followed by Amanda and Stan. She closes and locks the door, and has made sure that the TARDIS is locked down, relative to the position of the planet. It's an old habit from RIFTS Earth, after one too many Naruni attempts at theft.

As the they walk amongst the tourists, Trav breathes in deep the delightful floral scents of the Imperial gardens. She dials Sereth. Hopefully, he isn't busy. Trav has made her hat into a scarf (again, an affectionate nod to Boobie while modding for her own style. She's also taken to wearing glasses again.)


This message was last edited by the player at 21:00, Thu 21 Jan 2016.

Smoke Alarm was getting yawny, eyespying yet another oversized kitchen knife that clearly couldn't even fit in the drawer, let alone a pocket. She couldn't eyespy the point of it – well, she could eyespy the point, all the way over there, but it didn't seem practical to a Kang's outlook. It was too big, too fancy-free, like when No Smoking had started a wallscrawl so big she'd run out of wall before she'd finished it, and everyone had laughed, 'cept her. Sure, Sereth was icehot deadly with his, but how many rats had he caught with it, how many had he fed with it? But Taliro didn't seem interested in a comparative study of the respective cultural significances of Draconian honour-blades and Kang arrowguns.

When the visitors came-in, she eyespied the reactions of the others with bemusement, not thinking to scurry out of the way like them. They weren't hiding or fleeing from these visitors, or even keeping outlook – instead, they were not-outlooking, at the floor or even their toes. Why, they didn't outlook much different from the rest she'd seen. Was it some kind of game? Smoke Alarm decided to eyespy the swishy fancy-pants, to see if he would do anything interesting, like fly into the air or turn into a dog.


OOC: Sorry, bit of a mispost. I started on one device, finished on my computer.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:25, Thu 21 Jan 2016.

Whilst following Trav, Stanley admires the exotic flowers and the grand design behind the Imperial  Gardens. There must be a lot of gardeners to keep everything looking like this.

Amanda, by her expression, is a bit more dubious of the charms of the palace grounds.

"Feels... calculated, down to the last detail.  This is art form, wrapping up philosophical manifesto, rooted in iron political power.  Impressive, and not willing to let you forget it for an instant."

She shrugs.  "Of course, growing up where I grew up, if it doesn't have wide open -- and I mean, wide open skies, ffft."

It may be coincidental, but barely a few moments go by following Amanda's opinion when the path ahead of them is abruptly blocked by a pair of Draconians in ornate, yet entirely functional-looking riot armor, hands resting easily on the hilts of their swords.

The travellers glance around, and they see that they're loosely encircled -- there is an additional guardsman approaching them at four o' clock and at eight o'clock.

One of the pair ahead of them, the one wearing a narrow red sash, speaks.  "Your pardon," he says.  "I have the honor to be Ensazin, Guardsman-True of His Draconian Majesty's Life Guards. You've been observed disembarking from an unregistered transmat capsule making an unauthorized intrusion onto an Imperial preserve.  We take the security of these premises very seriously, and we'll need to escort you to a secure location while we notify your governments' diplomatic representatives of the charges against you."
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:26, Fri 22 Jan 2016.

"Charges against me? Unregistered? Ah, I see. I thought that these were the public palace gardens. But, as I am a guest, I do not wish to be rude. I am prepared to cooperate fully with you. I am slowly raising my hands." Trav slowly raises her hands and opens her coat. "You'll find two sonic personal defense pistols, a sonic probe, and a personal computation device, and a communications device. I presume you'll need to relieve me of them. You may treat me as you wish. Are my companions also being charged, as well, or are they also being detained?"

If the Draconians move to relieve her of her Turbopistols and other devices, Trav opines, "Mandy, this all passes. Only love endures." The Time Lord says this as someone who has literally seen this.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:48, Fri 22 Jan 2016.

"You should have chosen a better parking spot, Trav." Stanley sighs and also raises his hands. He has no doubt that Trav, or maybe Sereth, will find a way to resolve this peacefully. Preferably without first being thrown in some Draconian Imperial dungeon. Next time Trav should land the Tardis somewhere outside the gardens and use the front entrance like the rest of the tourists. That might be a good policy for most public attractions, though they would have deal with long lines and the local currency.

A quiet nod.

"Aye. Thank you for the warning; I'll be prepared. Even more so than usual."

Smoke Alarm feels Taliro tug at her sleeve, but not in time to change her behavior even in the unlikely event that this would affect her actions at all.

The robed Draconian notices her attention.  He and his entourage don't break stride at all, but briefly he gives her a withering glare.  It feels like the way Caretakers would look at Kangs, way back when, but with a hundred times the disregard and scorn, like he was a high muckety-muck full of himself and Smoke Alarm was barely more than a bug.

The group moves on down the carrydoor.  When they've gone out of sight, Taliro whispers to Smoke, "I'm sorry, I should have explained.  Staring like that isn't something that's done to high Ministers.  But I didn't expect that we would run across one in this part of the Palace."  He frowns, and then he makes a shockingly deep bow.  "Forgive me.  I have failed in my duty."

The Draconian guardsman move in briskly to disarm Trav.  They frisk Stanley and Amanda as well, politely and professionally, but thoroughly for all that.  Stanley is somewhat surprised when they relieve Amanda of a gleaming pistol tucked beneath her jacket, before he remembers the thriving gun culture of her homeworld Arden.

"This way," Ensazin says.  He starts to lead the travellers off as the other guards take flanking positions.  "We do try to make allowances for mistakes on the part of pilgrims and visitors, and I assure you that you will be treated fairly.  Still, this is the seat of the Empire and the home of the August Presence.  We take a dim view of unannounced incursions using exotic technologies."

OOC:

If anyone has any equipment they would normally be carrying that they want to try to conceal, or alternatively to try to protest or persuade the guards that they should be allowed to keep, you can make an appropriate roll and I'll come up with a response.  Concealment would be Ingenuity + Subterfuge, Presence + Convince would be appropriate for negotiating.

(I know, game rules!  Go figure.)

OOC: Trav has resourceful pockets. If I spend an SP, can I be considered to have passed the roll? Her real pieces and equipment are simply amidst all the junk she has kept hidden at the bottom of her bag.

I love game rules, because it keeps everything fair and cool. Like Ron Edwards says, Design Matters.

This message was last edited by the player at 19:37, Sun 24 Jan 2016.

OOC: Trav -- IMO that pushes the trait farther than it is meant to go.  Your previous post gave me the impression that you were for-real handing over your stuff.  If you want to spend a SP to hang on to your bag and, in future, pull out something that is not an obvious weapon, I'll go for that.