[LOG] Staff Meeting...FROM THE FUTURE
WHO: Sanger Zonvolt, Havelock Vetinari, Roy Fokker, and the Chiefs of Staff of the Terran Imperial Space Fleet Third Corps (NPCed by Nono)
WHERE: Lunar Tokyo, Earth's Moon, Neo Solar System (THE FUTURE)
WHEN: Sunday, January 28, 14056 AD (give or take.)
WHAT: The Space Fleet Third Corps is meeting to make final decisions on the fate of Fraternity, the Buster Machines, their Topless pilots, and even Buster Machine Seven - Nono herself. The only thing standing between their selfish and generally unjust agendas: Two soldiers and a political mastermind.
WATCH FOR!! The doubts of Sanger Zonvolt, Vetinari's Clock of Android Taming, and Roy Fokker laying out the big picture in epic fashion.
THE FUTURE(#656Ten)
The Future is the Solar System, circa 14055 AD.
Several planets are missing.
Contents:
Neo Solar System Former Thirteenth Planet (#671Ten)
Neo Solar System New Eleventh Planet (#797Ten)
Neo Solar System New Tenth Planet (#794Ten)
Neo Solar System Fifth Planet (#708Tn)
Havelock Vetinari has arrived.
Roy Fokker has arrived.
Sanger Zonvolt has arrived.
Things have been politically...odd down in the Neo Solar System recently. With the appearance of Buster Machine Seven, who has complete command over the Space Monsters that Humanity has fought for millenia, and the fact that the Topless have proven highly ineffective against the STMC who now arose to replace them, the Military believes it has found its chance to eradicate the Fraternity organization once and for all, and has moved much of its clout in that direction. Only the protestations of Buster Machine Seven herself, and chiding from the IPL senate, has kept the total disollution of the Fraternity from becoming reality.
CAPITAL CITY, MOON OF THE SOLAR SYSTEM'S THIRD PLANET
LUNAR TOKYO
SPACE FLEET 3RD CORPS CHIEFS OF STAFF BRIEFING
The Chiefs of Staff are meeting with various cabinet ministers today to decide the matter once and for all. The meeting room is large, and has plenty of room for not only the locals, but for the IPL representatives, as well. The Admiral of the Third Fleet, Admiral Dhoraso, occupies the farthest end of the circular meeting table from the door. Surrounding him are representatives both military and otherwise - the Surgeon General, the Public Welfare Deputy Chief, the Military Police Assistant Secretary, and others. There is also a tall, proud man in a strange white outfit. His pupils are square - he is an android. There is a nearly inaudible mechanical whir every time his eyes shift focus. This latter stands apart, near a screen. The entire room is dark, and seems almost suspended in a pitch black void, lined with lines of orange. There is a projector above, which can project images onto every surface in the room.
When everyone has assembled, they will begin.
Commander Fokker would rather be locked in a closet alone with Ranpha than at a formal meeting. Really. However, he's done them plenty of times in the past - meetings, not closets. Making his way down the aisle to the visitor's area, the Commander of the Black Sheep adjusts his uniform jacket before looking over at the training officer. "Thanks for coming." he mutters. "Thraskar said he couldn't make it in time."
Finding a seat, the pilot goes to drop into it, folding his hands into his lap as he looks down towards the discussion area, and one of his brows arches up in confusion. No Nono. Where is she at?
Politics are the natural habitat of Lord Havelock Vetinari. It was for politics and his connections that he was elevated to a functional 'Chief' level in the IPA. He is, as always, punctual and accompanied by a thin young man in black with a clipboard.
Also, he brought a clock. His excuse was that it was good for ensuring that speakers were aware of how long they were talking, or some other meaningless political smalltalk.
Vetinari himself seems to notice nothing odd about the clock as he sits in the dark room, reading a report handed to him by his aide. The clock, though, /is/ odd. It ticks...and then takes a bit too long on its tock. And then it ticks again, a bit too soon for your new expectations - and then tocks too early for your expectations, and ticks too late, and so on.
Vetinari made the clockmaker a very rich man.
Sanger Zonvolt is here for Nono, not anyone else. He follows in after Roy Fokker, looking around the room with narrowed eyes. He has a distaste for politics - they're dishonorable, not the tool of a soldier, and too easily manipulated for personal gain instead of the greater good. He stands out like a sore thumb here; his heavy leather coat and sealed and sheathed katana are apart from nearly everyone else.
He looks around, also not finding an image of Nono. He gives a look to the various politicians, then to Vetinari and to Fokker. They both get a curt nod.
Zonvolt sits down, then.
The android stares at the clock like it is his elemental enemy. Discord. Grr. But, as everyone arrives, he nods. Dhoraso, the admiral, says, "Welcome, all of you. We've called you all here to help us reach several final decisions, regarding Toplesses, the Fraternity, and Buster Machine Seven, whom you have worked with for some time." This last is directed primarily at the IPL segment. "Thank you for coming. I'm sorry Number Seven was unable to be here - a final battery of tests was unfortunately scheduled for the same time as this meeting. She may join us later via video." Or teleporting clear across the solar system, though he doesn't think about that because he forgot she can do it. "For starters, we have decided to provide everyone with a rundown of what our scholars have discovered regarding the Titan incident, and the history of it." He looks to the android, who stops scowling at the clock.
"Yes," says the male robot, stepping over toward the screen. The projector shifts with a whirrrTHUNK, and behind the android is projected an image of a spiral galaxy. "The first records we have discovered date back over twelve thousand years. We have evidence of a black-hole weapon being used on the periphery of the Solar System, in order to intercept and destroy a swarm of hundreds of millions of variable gravity wells - known by IPL parlance as STMC-type Space Monsters - that were at the time, invading." He brings a hand up and adjusts his glasses upward, which causes them to glint. "That is now known to us as Black Hole Exelio, where our Space Monsters, which Buster Machine Seven identifies as the Buster Corps., have made their nest." The image behind him shifts around. On all the walls are images - charts and graphs in some, images of space in others, all of them analytical tools.
"Following this resistance effort, one other attempt was made to utterly eradicate the variable gravity wells - the planet Jupiter was converted into a bomb, and sent to the core of the galaxy. According to IPL data on universes with events parallel to our own, we suspect that this bomb had a radius of in excess of ten thousand light years, and was classified as Buster Machine Three. It was sent along with Buster Machines One and Two, which never returned. After this final effort, which had been executed with the entirety of humanity's strength and resources...we have no records for several millenia. However, it has been inferred that an absolute solar system defense system comprised of unmanned Buster Machines - the Buster Corps. - was created. At that time, the variable gravity wells' surviving forces were coming together, and more importantly...Humanity had most likely run out of steam. They created Buster Machine Seven, Queen of the Buster Corps., and then sealed away warp technology and chose to seal themselves in the Solar System."
He adjusts his glasses again, and his eyes glance at that damn clock, trying to remember what they decided had happened next.
Part of Roy wants to just grab a bottle of whiskey and get to chugging. The other side wants to fall asleep. Blah blah blah. Instead, the Veritech commander forces both of those feelings down to listen to the commentary.
Vetinari is no scientist, but he recognizes Important History when he hears it. He returns Sanger's nod briefly, before attending to the lecture. "I see. These would be the ancient earthlings still?"
Sanger doesn't look very happy with this information. The STMC are what he had feared; he just has a name for them. Elzam had told him that there were reports of roving monsters that had gutted entire ships and left them for dead. This was likely exactly what his old friend was talking about. These Buster Machines had beaten them before, it sounds like...
...but not completely.
He decides to withhold this information for now. His eyes wander to Vetinari. Would he be able to make them do the right thing?
Oh, he's not even done. He opens his mouth to continue, but then looks to Vetinari. He is outwardly calm despite the clock slowly driving him mad. "Yes. This is known to us as the Age of the Gods, when they possessed a level of technology far surpassing anything our own society could ever fathom, let alone reproduce. This is likewise the source of our interest in the technology powering Buster Machine Seven." The astute will by now have noticed how this guy talks about Nono - Buster Machine Seven, Queen of the Space Monsters, Number Seven, where's her NAME? The most casual term used to refer to her so far has been simply "Number Seven."
"However...Little else happened for a long time. The autonomous absolute defense system evolved on its own to become more efficient and powerful. The form they obtained in the process, ironically, resembled that of their very foes - the Variable Gravity Wells that we now call 'STMC Space Monsters.'"
Dhoraso speaks. "The defense system was constructed to protect humanity, you say, but until Number Seven appeared, they were attacking us. Why?"
The android nods, as a chart falls into place behind him, comparing brainwaves of the Carrier STMC that attacked at Titan to the brainwaves of...L'arc Melk Marre. "At some point, it seems they detected in their protectorate, Humanity, the very same threat that their enemies posed. That is to say..."
He adjusts his glasses again. They gleam. "Toplessness."
A murmur spreads across the table. It is not favorable. It's not a big group, so individual comments can be heard. "I knew it!" "They're a menace..." "The 'next stage of evolution', huh..." "But evolution into what?"
Dhoraso is quiet. He seems fairly neutral - he is visibly uncomfortable with the notion of humanity being similar to those things, but does not seem as immediately horrified as his peers.
Roy freezes in his seat. The pilot's eyes narrow as he's taken to another conversation. Not so long ago. Doctor Lang, standing before Captain Gloval and the other command staff of the SDF-1.
'The Zentraedi, while larger than us and less technically advance as well as more militaristic are.. despite what you may think, capable of emotions. Our genetic profiling of bodies taken after a battle near Mars have proven beyond a doubt that with very few differences, a Zentraedi's genetic makeup is /not/ different than a humans.'
He thought Emerson was going to have a coronary on a spot, much less the rest of them. Roy sat there and said nothing. He had thoughts that were similar, back during the time he was held by the Zentraedi. And now..
Vetinari knows Dwarf Creation Myth. Tak made Two Brothers, man and dwarf. And the life that came unbidden, yadda yadda. This sounds rather similar, albeit slightly less mystical. "I see." He smiles at the android. "Tell me - these enemies of humanity's Age of Gods - you know what they were, I assume? Or am I entirely misinterpreting this and you've already told me?"
Don't worry, Sanger, Vetinari will smack sense into these guys. He's just luring them into a false sense of security, first. It pays to have your political foes think you a moron.
Roy Fokker says, "...whoa. Deja vu."
Amuro Ray says, "Sir?"
Roy Fokker says, "Just in this meeting - all too familiar."
Sanger Zonvolt grits his teeth as he starts hearing this nonsense. He doesn't talk /quite/ yet - after all, there hasn't been anything official said. His eyes narrow, though. Would these men move in a foolish direction? He had promised he would protect Nono's friends. If they tried to attack the Fraternity...
Promises mean more than allegiance to a man like Zonvolt. They would learn that the hard way.
Shinji Ikari over cooking sounds. "Eh?"
Amuro Ray says, "How is it going?"
Roy Fokker says, "Poorly. But we'll see."
The android, after a moment of staring some more at Vetinari's clock, says, "It is difficult to say with certainty. Much of the information we have is due to inference - the Age of Gods was over twelve thousand years ago. However...we have confirmed that the Variable Gravity Well that attacked at Titan was one of the types of enemies attacking during that period. We have also confirmed that it was, without question, a Topless."
Murmuring resumes. "It's a disorder that's clearly treatable, I don't see where the question is..." "If we get rid of them, perhaps the Variable Gravity Wells will cease their attacks....!" "It's a long shot, but can we risk otherwise?"
Dhoraso still looks uncomfortable. The Surgeon General speaks up, noting, "Over ninety-nine percent of modern human children contract Toplessness during their adolescent years. However, if treated early on, they can return to society quickly and with minimal difficulty."
"And doing so would likely prevent further attacks!" chimes the Public Welfare representative. "We only have so many moons in this solar system! Sooner or later they'll hit a populated one!"
General mutters of approval.
"Have you considered, perhaps, that your Age of the Gods featured a war between men?" Vetinari is a student of history, you see. "Very few ages are truly peaceful - men fight each other. In words or in weapons - and weapons seem so often the choice of those with immense power." He smiles at the android, watching the clock work its magic. "You see, that could be a reason for the targetting toplessness - while the ancient humans who made the Buster Machines had their technology, their enemies, still human, had Toplessness. A fair match, would you say? But that's pure conjecture, of course."
He pauses. "Really, the problem I am seeing here is much more immediate. Have you considered that Buster Machine Seven is, in fact, intelligent and has a personality? One that might be noted is that of a young girl?" Further pause. "Do any of you good sirs have daughters?"
Roy looks over at Havelock, unhappily. Stop playing their game. "Her name's Nono." he says flatly. "They have names. They don't lose that just because they become Topless." Despite how many dollars he's waved to the contrary.
Vetinari glances over at Roy. "I was under the impression that it was rank, at this point - rather like me referring to you as 'Commander'."
"My name's Roy, not Commander, Havelock." Roy responds just as evenly.
Roy Fokker grumbles. "He may be one of ours, but he's still a damn politician."
Shinji Ikari randomly, "I wonder if my dad counts as a politician."
"This is foolish," Sanger growls. "The Topless were the /only/ thing between the destruction of more settlements in the Solar System, before Nono's arrival - the Topless and IPA assistance. These monsters attacked you before!" His heavily accented voice makes him harder to understand; he looks pissed. He isn't standing yet. "Moreover, Nono saved the lot of you!"
He isn't helping Vetinari, is he?
The android shakes its head at Havelock, a little late. It seems to be the most put off by the clock, most likely because it is a robot and irregular rhythms like that are driving it crazy. "By that time in history, humanity's differences had largely been solved, or rather, had been set aside. We have records of other human wars, but during that period, the battle with the Variable Gravity Wells was consuming all available resources. Toplessness in humans did not appear for some millenia, although some of their space propulsion technology did have early Topless, known then simply as 'psychics', as navigators."
"Moreover," he says, pointedly, "the name 'Nono' is not her identity - merely a pseudonym adopted during her period of amnesia. She said it herself - she is Buster Machine Number Seven, and is identified as such."
Dhoraso grunts an agreement, although when people start talking of Nono in such a casual way, he seems deeply surprised - the same way a devout Christian worshipper looks startled when someone walks up and starts referring to God as 'G-homey.' After a moment, he says, "We...aren't calling into question Number Seven's contributions. She has saved us all. With her power, she has become the greatest weapon we possess." Although he speaks this way, it is obvious to anyone paying attention that Dhoraso does not use the word 'weapon' as some military types might, degrading her humanity - almost the opposite, he speaks of her with reverence. Perhaps an eerie amount of it. "Number Seven's abilities have saved humanity."
"/Yes/," stresses the military police's representative. "Which is why it's obvious we no longer need an extraneous organization like Fraternity and its Academy!!"
Dhoraso almost lets him continue, but instead, says, "You've said that enough. I think our other visitors deserve some time to speak." Perhaps he doesn't want to get Sanger to the cutting point - the guy brought a sword, man. He looks, particularly, at Vetinari, whom he (and seemingly he alone) has noticed had an interesting point. "Go on, sir. You speak of her personality? I do have a grandchild." He smiles fondly at the thought of her. The android...has slipped off, and is at a terminal on the desk, perhaps preparing some point he must make later.
Vetinari looks over at Sanger, a look of annoyance on his face for the briefest moment. He turns back to Dhoraso, smiling. "A grandchild! How wonderful, sir. I am pleased for you - but your - son, I assume? - has never complained of her being contrary?" Drumknott, the clerk, is writing, meanwhile. "I have found that adolescents, female and male, become quite.../agitated/ when seperated forcefully from their friends." He pauses, and glances significantly towards Sanger.
"Tell me - who do you believe Buster Machine Seven - Nono, if you like, Commander Fokker - considers friends?"
Roy lowers his hand down, placing it over his side to hold there for a moment. He's pushing too hard and his body is letting him know it. His head dips down for a moment as he plays it off as being bored or staring intently at the papers in front of him, but those in the Sheep know of his wounded status.
"Investing /all/ of your hopes into one person is foolish," Sanger replies coolly. "Nono fought not only for you, but for the Topless that are her friends and comrades. A warrior is made by more than his sword. He is made by those who fight at his side." His dark eyes turn towards the military police's representative. "Tell me. Would you fight the Space Monsters with her, instead?"
THAT gets peoples' attention. Dhoraso stammers for a moment. "Ah...I hadn't..."
"L'arc Melk Marre - Topless Ranking 1, three years running - is the most important person in her life, even above the academic who found and raised her," the android says from his terminal. "According to radio logs, at least. Number Seven and Tycho Science - Topless Rank 2, also three years running - have had a turbulent history but I suppose one might also use the term 'friends' for their relationship. Casio Takeshiro, former Topless pilot of Buster Machine Dix-Neuf and now a freelance contractor for the Buster Machine Corporation, has been with her for some time...I suppose Nikola Vacheron counts, as well. I see your point - Lord Vetinari, yes? Most of her closest friends are, indeed, Topless pilots with Fraternity, or have been in the past. Idol status, at that. Quite a prestigious group. Very tightly knit - although often as much by bonds of hatred as by bonds of friendship."
The military police's representative seems uncomfortable at Sanger's gaze, because he is scary. "Well..." he hems, haws...and then grunts. Don't back down!! "Yes," he says, finally. "Buster Machine Seven has utter control over the Space Monsters that we have been fighting for generations! What need have we of Toplesses and Fraternities with an army like that at our side?"
Dhoraso does not seem so sure. He nods, slowly, at Sanger's words, though he says nothing.
Vetinari nods at the android. As he does, perhaps as a reward. Drumnknott adjusts the clock to a /slightly/ quieter ticking. The Patrician smiles. "As your aide says, Buster Machine Seven is quite firmly bonded to the Topless. And, of course, there is what Mister Zonvolt so wisely brings up...what happens, pray, if the monsters attack two places at once?" He pauses. "Or - well, you say they hate Toplessness. What will you do with those Topless already around? They surely can't be 'cured,' id one could call that a cure. And you would /hardly/ kill them - that would be illegal and evil. So...really, the Monsters won't stop either way, will they?"
"You did not answer my question," Sanger replies with a cool look at the military police's man. "Would /you/ go fight them? Those Space Monsters are not sentient. They are not comrades. They are not the same. You ask someone to bleed for you, to die for you. Are you able to shed that blood?" His eyes narrow as he looks at the man. "Are you able to die that death? Or are you a coward?"
Roy just settles into a listening role for now. He's not hot-blooded like Sanger, or politcially minded like Havelock, but there's a though blending and forming there as the pilot listens to the converation and the volleys back and forth.
The Surgeon General notes, "Cures for more advanced Toplessness are at the top of our research agenda. Moreover, a suppression system does exist. The Topless Seal." He produces one from his robes, which are rather ornate - the Seal is basically a sticker, but it's very rigid right now. It is circular, with a small tab for removal, and has a small inner circle inside the outer circle that forms the outer edge. "As Toplessness is itself created by abnormal activity in the frontal lobe-" one might find it odd that he terms any activity that occurs in ninety-nine percent of the population 'abnormal' "-the Seal is attuned to detect that activity, and alters its properties based on what it finds. As you see, in its neutral state it is inert and rigid. Applied to a Topless of sufficient strength, the material becomes looser and adheres easily and comfortably to the Topless's forehead. If the Topless is not powerful enough, or the individual isn't a Topless..." He reaches up and applies it to his own forehead. It sticks for about a second, and then there is a CRACK! sound and it snaps in half, clattering to the table. "That happens." He begins reaching under the table for a carrying case, and puts it on his part of the table, adding, "However, as it stands, the Seal can be easily removed by the Topless. The only real thing stopping them is the provisions in the Fraternity Treaty which threaten sanctions against them for removing their Seals in unauthorized areas. Now, however, there is another device, recently developed, which is already seeing use in our Octobrion facility where the Toplesses are currently being treated for battle wounds." He pulls it out. It looks uncannily like headgear one might put on a mentally deficient child - literally, it is a helmet composed of metal rods, with a circular section which fits over where the Topless Seal would be on the forehead. It is held in place by two keyholes, and would not be possible for the wearer to remove. "With this device," the Surgeon General notes, "unauthorized removal of the Topless Seal is impossible. This also, of course, removes any need we may have for alternative methods." That's probably his way of avoiding having to say 'kill'. The one upside to tonight - nobody here seems to actually want to /kill/ the Toplesses.
"Number Seven and the Buster Corps. are more than capable of moving to multiple battlesights," the android says, though gosh that quieter ticking is nice. "With their Warp technology, their response time from anywhere in the solar system would be a mere fraction of the time it takes Fraternity to respond with a space station right nearby. That is what the data from our tests on Number Seven indicate, at least."
Dhoraso and the Military Police's man both nod, approving of this figure.
"Moreover, the data indicates that Number Seven is not quite as childish as you claim, Lord Vetinari." He looks up, his eyes refocusing. He pointedly does not look at the clock. "She is in excess of ten thousand years old, and although she does not quite act her age, psychologically, she is very much capable of cognition on the level of an adult. According to psychiatric reports, she is merely...exuberant, and somewhat innocent to a number of common elements of society. This is due more to her upbringing in a remote area of Mars than any personality defect on her part."
Finally, however, the Military Police's man runs out of people to hide behind, grunts, and looks back at Sanger. He...doesn't answer, merely breathing heavily. Finally, he says simply, "That's not my station. I might just, if I had powers like hers. But it's not my place."
Dhoraso...frowns, unhappy.
Sanger Zonvolt growls.
Amuro Ray says, "Major?"
Sanger Zonvolt says, "I should cut that thing apart."
Roy Fokker gives a small cough. "...patience, Sanger.."
Sanger Zonvolt says, "It's... gh."
Sanger actually remains quiet for a bit as he listens to this information on the headgear meant to seal a Topless' power. He does not look thrilled; he does not, however, start getting red-faced as he is prone to. He is deathly silent, instead, and leans forward. There is a moment where he almost reaches a hand downward. He stays it.
He looks at the military police's man. "Then don't presume to make decisions about those who have bled where you can't." His eyes turn to Dhoraso. "What about you? Are /you/ willing to? Or will you use..."
He points at the device. ".../these/ monstrosities?"
The ticking gets louder as Drumknott adjusts the clock again. /Bad android/. "Is she? Tell me - how much have you interacted with her? I'm sure that Commander Fokker could, being her current superior officer, tell you how much she values her friends."
Vetinari's voice is getting colder here. "Gentlemen, we are men of our countries. We must take the long view, and not what seems most expedient. I am sure you know this. While tests are all fine and wonderful, we all know that simple truism: no plan survives contact with the enemy. Buster Machine Seven - Nono - is far more complex than you know anything about. You've said as much yourselves. If she breaks down - and to my knowledge, no machine is perfect..." A lie. But Vetinari lies when he feels like it. "Which means that, should such an unfortunate event occur, you are defenseless. As you are all /wise/ men, I'm sure you wouldn't do anything to leave yourselves in such a state."
Pause. "Further, you have told me that the ancient humans were unable to fully defeat their Topless foes, correct? This implies to me that Toplessness contains the /possibility/ of being more powerful than Busters. Your mysterious foes of the ancients have had millenia to learn their power better - what survivors there were, in any case - and may arrive to defeat their ancient foes. Nono's reawakening, so to speak, seems to suggest this is plausible." The Patrician continues, his face no longer remotely friendly - or unfriendly. Neutral. "Further, you have told me that ninety-nine percent of your population becomes Topless. This is not abnormal any more, or I have misread the laws of statistics. Your granddaughter, General." Vetinari turns his face to Dhoraso. "Would you have her wear such a device all her life?"
Allen Braford says, "Is something up?"
Finally, finally Roy speaks.
"And when the Syndicate finds out you have taken the Topless out of the picture, and drop the Crusaders into your backyard?" the commander of the Black Sheep asks. "You are looking at a one dimensional picture and treating it as such." Roy Fokker finally says, taking this time, this moment to start slamming holes into the plan.
"You may be able to hold off the Space Monsters. As you said, they have no way of planning - to stragize. What happens when you are hit by someone who can? Do you expect the IPA to be able to mobilize in time?" Standing up slowly, the Veritech commander covers his side with his hand. "You asked me to take charge of Nono's command and development. To not only be her commander but to help to strengthen her ties between your world and the Multiverse."
Closing his eyes, Roy lowers his head, the stubborn ass. "...I hereby extend that same offer to all Topless pilots at this time." His hand reaches up to Sanger's shoulder. Stay your ground, it says simply.
"Sanger and Havelock have said much this evening - however, what it is is pretty words and growled threats. In the end, members of the council - is that you have developed a response to a singular threat - and if you stay with it..."
"...you..."
"...you.." Another look.
"And you..." And one last look towards each of the Council members as he coughs, swallowing down hard.
"...are not risking the lives of the Topless or yourselves. You are gambling your lives, those of every person that lives on this planet, and everyone that you could ever care about.. because.. of.. fear..."
Roy Fokker says, "...S-Sanger.. you're the only reason why I'm on my feet. Don't move, please."
Havelock Vetinari says, "Commander Fokker?"
Havelock Vetinari says, "Never go into politics."
Havelock Vetinari says, "You wouldn't enjoy it in the slightest."
Koji Kabuto says, "I'd vote for him, but that's just me."
Sanger Zonvolt says, "Sir."
Roy Fokker says, "Yeah, Major?"
Sanger Zonvolt says, "I won't be moving. Are you all right?"
Roy Fokker says, "Peachy. Pain meds are fading from last night's rumble is all."
Roy Fokker says, "I don't plan to."
"Ah, we failed to inform you of that part, then," the Surgeon General says. He's visibly startled, as perhaps any novice would be before the combined verbal assaults of Sanger Zonvolt and Havelock Vetinari and Roy Fokker, but he is at least calmer - perhaps because he is not military and is thus smugly assured of his own safety. "Toplessness fades by twenty. Sometimes sooner, but never much later. Nobody's sure what causes it - some say 'spiritual age', but then what constitutes spiritual age? It's quite an enigma. But always, a Topless's time ends. Often it's accompanied by a slight fever."
"Nikola Vacheron," the apparently nameless assistant android manages despite the maddening ticking, "is one such example. His time ended shortly after the Titan incident, according to reports."
"Further...there is a theory that Toplessness will eventually lead to an evolution into those very same Variable Gravity Wells," the Surgeon General supplies. This almost makes the muttering start again, but Dhoraso silences it with a sharp look. The admiral looks first to Vetinari. "It would pain me," he admits, "that she might have to. It is not a comfortable subject among us."
He turns his eyes to Sanger. "I most certainly would," he says. "I would not hesitate to lay my life on the line for Humanity." Perhaps asking the Admiral of a forward fleet was not the best way to get some points in that field...
All eyes turn to Roy. He is weak and injured - the Surgeon General looks about ready to go tend to him. But they listen. And, slowly, Dhoraso nods.
"The man speaks true," he says. "I have heard many tales of fleets surpassing even the power of the Buster Corps." Several people rise as if in protest, but Dhoraso glares and they stop. "It is not in anyone's interests to completely rely on Number Seven so long as the Gates remain at hand - and we know full well that there is no total way of destroying them."
"We can use the /Military/," says the man of the Military Police, and slams his hansd on the table. "Why the hell do we keep trying to rely on a bunch of teenagers!? The military EXISTS for the common defense!"
Dhoraso frowns, and looks over at the IPL's trio. "That is true...but tell me, Lord Vetinari, Mr. Zonvolt, Commander Fokker. This Syndicate. They possess members of surpassing power and prowess, do they not?"
"Aye." Roy says, using one of his fiancee's mannerisms as he continues to keep a hand on Sanger's shoulder. Obstently, it's to keep Sanger from advancing - in truth, it's to keep Roy from falling. "...they are powerful. As is the IPA. My own world is under the threat of an intelligent.. massive armada.. however. With the IPA and even your Nono, we will be able to keep them at bay." the Veritech pilot comments.
"You ask what your military is for. I cannot answer that. All I can answer is that as long as there in Buster Pilots -- or Topless -- if you will then myself, my Sheep, and all that I can muster will protect you from those threats. Both foreign and domestic."
"They do." Vetinari nods. "The Syndicate possesses men who can do many things - things that, in the terms of this world, may be impossible even for Buster Machine Seven." He pauses, and seems to think. "Perhaps you have heard of the being Envy, who can shift his shape to that of other creatures - or Shadow, who is said to have been able to erase souls. They are, of course, but a few. Not all threats from the Syndicate can be dealt with via the military. As for teenagers...I am often surprised by the number of them in the IPA ranks...but it is, occasionally, as my friend Zordon says." Vetinari smiles briefly. "Sometimes, the world is best served by a team of teenagers with attitude. They may have insights that older men do not, or bursts of inspiration. Guided, of course, by the hand of experience, they can be more powerful, in their way, than armadas - but both are needed, for each is suited to different circumstances. I'm sure you know this."
Roy Fokker says, "Y-you just described seventy-five percent of my unit, Havelock."
Havelock Vetinari says, "Indeed."
"You are facing a threat you cannot fully understand - and possibly many threats. Your military has been unable to fend off the Space Monsters," Sanger says. He doesn't sound pleased, but he holds back. "And moreover, you do a dishonor to those who have fought for you. If you have so little respect for those who are your comrades, Admiral..."
He glares, sharply. "Then I question whether you are a true soldier."
He falls quiet, after this. He has a bad feeling about this. Is this what governments were driven to? Turning on their protectors? Slitting their own throats? The IPA was still beholden to these governments. If Vetinari failed, they would take such a foolish course. He could stop this one.
He couldn't stop all of them. The seed that had been planted in Sanger's mind at Titan begins to grow.
Dhoraso gives Sanger a strange look, because he doesn't actually follow the man's words. He says, to Sanger, "Fraternity has always been separate from the Military. That has been part of the Treaty since its formation. Perhaps that is no longer a luxury we can afford. I...don't know." He shakes his head, ruefully. "But it is obvious to me that this universe of ours has need enough for both the Military and the Topless. Our Military is mighty."
"Our technology level can more than repulse many military threats from outside," the android notes, though he can't really say much else with that maddening tick - - - tock. "And our numbers are likewise impressive."
"Yes," Dhoraso says, slowly. "We can handle a great many issues. But there are things we cannot fight. As you say, we are ill-equipped to deal with individual threats. We are not well-prepared for man-sized foes. We must be able to adapt to such threats. Our military cannot as yet."
"Then..." mutters the military police's man, who knows where this is going.
"Then I will recommend to the Privy Council that the Buster Machines and Toplesses be maintained at battle-ready status."
He looks at the IPL's people, and says, "That is the best I am able to accomplish. I cannot guarantee the outcomes. I am but one voice."
Vetinari nods to Dhoraso - and then turns his eyes to each other council member. The look on his face, while not /hostile/, suggests that he knows of each of their private indiscretions.
He probably doesn't, of course.
Yet.
"I thank you, Admiral, as I'm sure do my comrades here - and Buster Machine Seven herself. I am sure you'll be able to carry the day." As he says this, his gaze lingers again on each other council member.
"...good.. good." Roy mutters, letting go of Sanger's shoulder and slips down into the chair. "Thank you, members of the Council."
Roy Fokker says, "...need to wrap this up soon. Can't convince Agrias forever that I snuck out to play poker and go to a strip club instead of a political meeting."
Freya Crescent says, "You told her the former instead?"
Havelock Vetinari says, "He told her the truth."
Havelock Vetinari says, "Don't worry, Commander." Possibly joking tone: "I'll sign an affidavit for you."
Roy Fokker says, "..she knows I'd be making it up. The political meeting would have gotten me chained to the bed."
"Then they never were your comrades," Sanger says. "Disappointing. Thank you for your time," the samurai concludes. He grits his teeth, looking angrily towards the council. He doesn't look pleased at all. This 'settlement' feels like too little to him. But...
He considers what Elzam had said. There may be other ways. He looks to the side and considers this, again.
WHERE: Lunar Tokyo, Earth's Moon, Neo Solar System (THE FUTURE)
WHEN: Sunday, January 28, 14056 AD (give or take.)
WHAT: The Space Fleet Third Corps is meeting to make final decisions on the fate of Fraternity, the Buster Machines, their Topless pilots, and even Buster Machine Seven - Nono herself. The only thing standing between their selfish and generally unjust agendas: Two soldiers and a political mastermind.
WATCH FOR!! The doubts of Sanger Zonvolt, Vetinari's Clock of Android Taming, and Roy Fokker laying out the big picture in epic fashion.
THE FUTURE(#656Ten)
The Future is the Solar System, circa 14055 AD.
Several planets are missing.
Contents:
Neo Solar System Former Thirteenth Planet (#671Ten)
Neo Solar System New Eleventh Planet (#797Ten)
Neo Solar System New Tenth Planet (#794Ten)
Neo Solar System Fifth Planet (#708Tn)
Havelock Vetinari has arrived.
Roy Fokker has arrived.
Sanger Zonvolt has arrived.
Things have been politically...odd down in the Neo Solar System recently. With the appearance of Buster Machine Seven, who has complete command over the Space Monsters that Humanity has fought for millenia, and the fact that the Topless have proven highly ineffective against the STMC who now arose to replace them, the Military believes it has found its chance to eradicate the Fraternity organization once and for all, and has moved much of its clout in that direction. Only the protestations of Buster Machine Seven herself, and chiding from the IPL senate, has kept the total disollution of the Fraternity from becoming reality.
CAPITAL CITY, MOON OF THE SOLAR SYSTEM'S THIRD PLANET
LUNAR TOKYO
SPACE FLEET 3RD CORPS CHIEFS OF STAFF BRIEFING
The Chiefs of Staff are meeting with various cabinet ministers today to decide the matter once and for all. The meeting room is large, and has plenty of room for not only the locals, but for the IPL representatives, as well. The Admiral of the Third Fleet, Admiral Dhoraso, occupies the farthest end of the circular meeting table from the door. Surrounding him are representatives both military and otherwise - the Surgeon General, the Public Welfare Deputy Chief, the Military Police Assistant Secretary, and others. There is also a tall, proud man in a strange white outfit. His pupils are square - he is an android. There is a nearly inaudible mechanical whir every time his eyes shift focus. This latter stands apart, near a screen. The entire room is dark, and seems almost suspended in a pitch black void, lined with lines of orange. There is a projector above, which can project images onto every surface in the room.
When everyone has assembled, they will begin.
Commander Fokker would rather be locked in a closet alone with Ranpha than at a formal meeting. Really. However, he's done them plenty of times in the past - meetings, not closets. Making his way down the aisle to the visitor's area, the Commander of the Black Sheep adjusts his uniform jacket before looking over at the training officer. "Thanks for coming." he mutters. "Thraskar said he couldn't make it in time."
Finding a seat, the pilot goes to drop into it, folding his hands into his lap as he looks down towards the discussion area, and one of his brows arches up in confusion. No Nono. Where is she at?
Politics are the natural habitat of Lord Havelock Vetinari. It was for politics and his connections that he was elevated to a functional 'Chief' level in the IPA. He is, as always, punctual and accompanied by a thin young man in black with a clipboard.
Also, he brought a clock. His excuse was that it was good for ensuring that speakers were aware of how long they were talking, or some other meaningless political smalltalk.
Vetinari himself seems to notice nothing odd about the clock as he sits in the dark room, reading a report handed to him by his aide. The clock, though, /is/ odd. It ticks...and then takes a bit too long on its tock. And then it ticks again, a bit too soon for your new expectations - and then tocks too early for your expectations, and ticks too late, and so on.
Vetinari made the clockmaker a very rich man.
Sanger Zonvolt is here for Nono, not anyone else. He follows in after Roy Fokker, looking around the room with narrowed eyes. He has a distaste for politics - they're dishonorable, not the tool of a soldier, and too easily manipulated for personal gain instead of the greater good. He stands out like a sore thumb here; his heavy leather coat and sealed and sheathed katana are apart from nearly everyone else.
He looks around, also not finding an image of Nono. He gives a look to the various politicians, then to Vetinari and to Fokker. They both get a curt nod.
Zonvolt sits down, then.
The android stares at the clock like it is his elemental enemy. Discord. Grr. But, as everyone arrives, he nods. Dhoraso, the admiral, says, "Welcome, all of you. We've called you all here to help us reach several final decisions, regarding Toplesses, the Fraternity, and Buster Machine Seven, whom you have worked with for some time." This last is directed primarily at the IPL segment. "Thank you for coming. I'm sorry Number Seven was unable to be here - a final battery of tests was unfortunately scheduled for the same time as this meeting. She may join us later via video." Or teleporting clear across the solar system, though he doesn't think about that because he forgot she can do it. "For starters, we have decided to provide everyone with a rundown of what our scholars have discovered regarding the Titan incident, and the history of it." He looks to the android, who stops scowling at the clock.
"Yes," says the male robot, stepping over toward the screen. The projector shifts with a whirrrTHUNK, and behind the android is projected an image of a spiral galaxy. "The first records we have discovered date back over twelve thousand years. We have evidence of a black-hole weapon being used on the periphery of the Solar System, in order to intercept and destroy a swarm of hundreds of millions of variable gravity wells - known by IPL parlance as STMC-type Space Monsters - that were at the time, invading." He brings a hand up and adjusts his glasses upward, which causes them to glint. "That is now known to us as Black Hole Exelio, where our Space Monsters, which Buster Machine Seven identifies as the Buster Corps., have made their nest." The image behind him shifts around. On all the walls are images - charts and graphs in some, images of space in others, all of them analytical tools.
"Following this resistance effort, one other attempt was made to utterly eradicate the variable gravity wells - the planet Jupiter was converted into a bomb, and sent to the core of the galaxy. According to IPL data on universes with events parallel to our own, we suspect that this bomb had a radius of in excess of ten thousand light years, and was classified as Buster Machine Three. It was sent along with Buster Machines One and Two, which never returned. After this final effort, which had been executed with the entirety of humanity's strength and resources...we have no records for several millenia. However, it has been inferred that an absolute solar system defense system comprised of unmanned Buster Machines - the Buster Corps. - was created. At that time, the variable gravity wells' surviving forces were coming together, and more importantly...Humanity had most likely run out of steam. They created Buster Machine Seven, Queen of the Buster Corps., and then sealed away warp technology and chose to seal themselves in the Solar System."
He adjusts his glasses again, and his eyes glance at that damn clock, trying to remember what they decided had happened next.
Part of Roy wants to just grab a bottle of whiskey and get to chugging. The other side wants to fall asleep. Blah blah blah. Instead, the Veritech commander forces both of those feelings down to listen to the commentary.
Vetinari is no scientist, but he recognizes Important History when he hears it. He returns Sanger's nod briefly, before attending to the lecture. "I see. These would be the ancient earthlings still?"
Sanger doesn't look very happy with this information. The STMC are what he had feared; he just has a name for them. Elzam had told him that there were reports of roving monsters that had gutted entire ships and left them for dead. This was likely exactly what his old friend was talking about. These Buster Machines had beaten them before, it sounds like...
...but not completely.
He decides to withhold this information for now. His eyes wander to Vetinari. Would he be able to make them do the right thing?
Oh, he's not even done. He opens his mouth to continue, but then looks to Vetinari. He is outwardly calm despite the clock slowly driving him mad. "Yes. This is known to us as the Age of the Gods, when they possessed a level of technology far surpassing anything our own society could ever fathom, let alone reproduce. This is likewise the source of our interest in the technology powering Buster Machine Seven." The astute will by now have noticed how this guy talks about Nono - Buster Machine Seven, Queen of the Space Monsters, Number Seven, where's her NAME? The most casual term used to refer to her so far has been simply "Number Seven."
"However...Little else happened for a long time. The autonomous absolute defense system evolved on its own to become more efficient and powerful. The form they obtained in the process, ironically, resembled that of their very foes - the Variable Gravity Wells that we now call 'STMC Space Monsters.'"
Dhoraso speaks. "The defense system was constructed to protect humanity, you say, but until Number Seven appeared, they were attacking us. Why?"
The android nods, as a chart falls into place behind him, comparing brainwaves of the Carrier STMC that attacked at Titan to the brainwaves of...L'arc Melk Marre. "At some point, it seems they detected in their protectorate, Humanity, the very same threat that their enemies posed. That is to say..."
He adjusts his glasses again. They gleam. "Toplessness."
A murmur spreads across the table. It is not favorable. It's not a big group, so individual comments can be heard. "I knew it!" "They're a menace..." "The 'next stage of evolution', huh..." "But evolution into what?"
Dhoraso is quiet. He seems fairly neutral - he is visibly uncomfortable with the notion of humanity being similar to those things, but does not seem as immediately horrified as his peers.
Roy freezes in his seat. The pilot's eyes narrow as he's taken to another conversation. Not so long ago. Doctor Lang, standing before Captain Gloval and the other command staff of the SDF-1.
'The Zentraedi, while larger than us and less technically advance as well as more militaristic are.. despite what you may think, capable of emotions. Our genetic profiling of bodies taken after a battle near Mars have proven beyond a doubt that with very few differences, a Zentraedi's genetic makeup is /not/ different than a humans.'
He thought Emerson was going to have a coronary on a spot, much less the rest of them. Roy sat there and said nothing. He had thoughts that were similar, back during the time he was held by the Zentraedi. And now..
Vetinari knows Dwarf Creation Myth. Tak made Two Brothers, man and dwarf. And the life that came unbidden, yadda yadda. This sounds rather similar, albeit slightly less mystical. "I see." He smiles at the android. "Tell me - these enemies of humanity's Age of Gods - you know what they were, I assume? Or am I entirely misinterpreting this and you've already told me?"
Don't worry, Sanger, Vetinari will smack sense into these guys. He's just luring them into a false sense of security, first. It pays to have your political foes think you a moron.
Roy Fokker says, "...whoa. Deja vu."
Amuro Ray says, "Sir?"
Roy Fokker says, "Just in this meeting - all too familiar."
Sanger Zonvolt grits his teeth as he starts hearing this nonsense. He doesn't talk /quite/ yet - after all, there hasn't been anything official said. His eyes narrow, though. Would these men move in a foolish direction? He had promised he would protect Nono's friends. If they tried to attack the Fraternity...
Promises mean more than allegiance to a man like Zonvolt. They would learn that the hard way.
Shinji Ikari over cooking sounds. "Eh?"
Amuro Ray says, "How is it going?"
Roy Fokker says, "Poorly. But we'll see."
The android, after a moment of staring some more at Vetinari's clock, says, "It is difficult to say with certainty. Much of the information we have is due to inference - the Age of Gods was over twelve thousand years ago. However...we have confirmed that the Variable Gravity Well that attacked at Titan was one of the types of enemies attacking during that period. We have also confirmed that it was, without question, a Topless."
Murmuring resumes. "It's a disorder that's clearly treatable, I don't see where the question is..." "If we get rid of them, perhaps the Variable Gravity Wells will cease their attacks....!" "It's a long shot, but can we risk otherwise?"
Dhoraso still looks uncomfortable. The Surgeon General speaks up, noting, "Over ninety-nine percent of modern human children contract Toplessness during their adolescent years. However, if treated early on, they can return to society quickly and with minimal difficulty."
"And doing so would likely prevent further attacks!" chimes the Public Welfare representative. "We only have so many moons in this solar system! Sooner or later they'll hit a populated one!"
General mutters of approval.
"Have you considered, perhaps, that your Age of the Gods featured a war between men?" Vetinari is a student of history, you see. "Very few ages are truly peaceful - men fight each other. In words or in weapons - and weapons seem so often the choice of those with immense power." He smiles at the android, watching the clock work its magic. "You see, that could be a reason for the targetting toplessness - while the ancient humans who made the Buster Machines had their technology, their enemies, still human, had Toplessness. A fair match, would you say? But that's pure conjecture, of course."
He pauses. "Really, the problem I am seeing here is much more immediate. Have you considered that Buster Machine Seven is, in fact, intelligent and has a personality? One that might be noted is that of a young girl?" Further pause. "Do any of you good sirs have daughters?"
Roy looks over at Havelock, unhappily. Stop playing their game. "Her name's Nono." he says flatly. "They have names. They don't lose that just because they become Topless." Despite how many dollars he's waved to the contrary.
Vetinari glances over at Roy. "I was under the impression that it was rank, at this point - rather like me referring to you as 'Commander'."
"My name's Roy, not Commander, Havelock." Roy responds just as evenly.
Roy Fokker grumbles. "He may be one of ours, but he's still a damn politician."
Shinji Ikari randomly, "I wonder if my dad counts as a politician."
"This is foolish," Sanger growls. "The Topless were the /only/ thing between the destruction of more settlements in the Solar System, before Nono's arrival - the Topless and IPA assistance. These monsters attacked you before!" His heavily accented voice makes him harder to understand; he looks pissed. He isn't standing yet. "Moreover, Nono saved the lot of you!"
He isn't helping Vetinari, is he?
The android shakes its head at Havelock, a little late. It seems to be the most put off by the clock, most likely because it is a robot and irregular rhythms like that are driving it crazy. "By that time in history, humanity's differences had largely been solved, or rather, had been set aside. We have records of other human wars, but during that period, the battle with the Variable Gravity Wells was consuming all available resources. Toplessness in humans did not appear for some millenia, although some of their space propulsion technology did have early Topless, known then simply as 'psychics', as navigators."
"Moreover," he says, pointedly, "the name 'Nono' is not her identity - merely a pseudonym adopted during her period of amnesia. She said it herself - she is Buster Machine Number Seven, and is identified as such."
Dhoraso grunts an agreement, although when people start talking of Nono in such a casual way, he seems deeply surprised - the same way a devout Christian worshipper looks startled when someone walks up and starts referring to God as 'G-homey.' After a moment, he says, "We...aren't calling into question Number Seven's contributions. She has saved us all. With her power, she has become the greatest weapon we possess." Although he speaks this way, it is obvious to anyone paying attention that Dhoraso does not use the word 'weapon' as some military types might, degrading her humanity - almost the opposite, he speaks of her with reverence. Perhaps an eerie amount of it. "Number Seven's abilities have saved humanity."
"/Yes/," stresses the military police's representative. "Which is why it's obvious we no longer need an extraneous organization like Fraternity and its Academy!!"
Dhoraso almost lets him continue, but instead, says, "You've said that enough. I think our other visitors deserve some time to speak." Perhaps he doesn't want to get Sanger to the cutting point - the guy brought a sword, man. He looks, particularly, at Vetinari, whom he (and seemingly he alone) has noticed had an interesting point. "Go on, sir. You speak of her personality? I do have a grandchild." He smiles fondly at the thought of her. The android...has slipped off, and is at a terminal on the desk, perhaps preparing some point he must make later.
Vetinari looks over at Sanger, a look of annoyance on his face for the briefest moment. He turns back to Dhoraso, smiling. "A grandchild! How wonderful, sir. I am pleased for you - but your - son, I assume? - has never complained of her being contrary?" Drumknott, the clerk, is writing, meanwhile. "I have found that adolescents, female and male, become quite.../agitated/ when seperated forcefully from their friends." He pauses, and glances significantly towards Sanger.
"Tell me - who do you believe Buster Machine Seven - Nono, if you like, Commander Fokker - considers friends?"
Roy lowers his hand down, placing it over his side to hold there for a moment. He's pushing too hard and his body is letting him know it. His head dips down for a moment as he plays it off as being bored or staring intently at the papers in front of him, but those in the Sheep know of his wounded status.
"Investing /all/ of your hopes into one person is foolish," Sanger replies coolly. "Nono fought not only for you, but for the Topless that are her friends and comrades. A warrior is made by more than his sword. He is made by those who fight at his side." His dark eyes turn towards the military police's representative. "Tell me. Would you fight the Space Monsters with her, instead?"
THAT gets peoples' attention. Dhoraso stammers for a moment. "Ah...I hadn't..."
"L'arc Melk Marre - Topless Ranking 1, three years running - is the most important person in her life, even above the academic who found and raised her," the android says from his terminal. "According to radio logs, at least. Number Seven and Tycho Science - Topless Rank 2, also three years running - have had a turbulent history but I suppose one might also use the term 'friends' for their relationship. Casio Takeshiro, former Topless pilot of Buster Machine Dix-Neuf and now a freelance contractor for the Buster Machine Corporation, has been with her for some time...I suppose Nikola Vacheron counts, as well. I see your point - Lord Vetinari, yes? Most of her closest friends are, indeed, Topless pilots with Fraternity, or have been in the past. Idol status, at that. Quite a prestigious group. Very tightly knit - although often as much by bonds of hatred as by bonds of friendship."
The military police's representative seems uncomfortable at Sanger's gaze, because he is scary. "Well..." he hems, haws...and then grunts. Don't back down!! "Yes," he says, finally. "Buster Machine Seven has utter control over the Space Monsters that we have been fighting for generations! What need have we of Toplesses and Fraternities with an army like that at our side?"
Dhoraso does not seem so sure. He nods, slowly, at Sanger's words, though he says nothing.
Vetinari nods at the android. As he does, perhaps as a reward. Drumnknott adjusts the clock to a /slightly/ quieter ticking. The Patrician smiles. "As your aide says, Buster Machine Seven is quite firmly bonded to the Topless. And, of course, there is what Mister Zonvolt so wisely brings up...what happens, pray, if the monsters attack two places at once?" He pauses. "Or - well, you say they hate Toplessness. What will you do with those Topless already around? They surely can't be 'cured,' id one could call that a cure. And you would /hardly/ kill them - that would be illegal and evil. So...really, the Monsters won't stop either way, will they?"
"You did not answer my question," Sanger replies with a cool look at the military police's man. "Would /you/ go fight them? Those Space Monsters are not sentient. They are not comrades. They are not the same. You ask someone to bleed for you, to die for you. Are you able to shed that blood?" His eyes narrow as he looks at the man. "Are you able to die that death? Or are you a coward?"
Roy just settles into a listening role for now. He's not hot-blooded like Sanger, or politcially minded like Havelock, but there's a though blending and forming there as the pilot listens to the converation and the volleys back and forth.
The Surgeon General notes, "Cures for more advanced Toplessness are at the top of our research agenda. Moreover, a suppression system does exist. The Topless Seal." He produces one from his robes, which are rather ornate - the Seal is basically a sticker, but it's very rigid right now. It is circular, with a small tab for removal, and has a small inner circle inside the outer circle that forms the outer edge. "As Toplessness is itself created by abnormal activity in the frontal lobe-" one might find it odd that he terms any activity that occurs in ninety-nine percent of the population 'abnormal' "-the Seal is attuned to detect that activity, and alters its properties based on what it finds. As you see, in its neutral state it is inert and rigid. Applied to a Topless of sufficient strength, the material becomes looser and adheres easily and comfortably to the Topless's forehead. If the Topless is not powerful enough, or the individual isn't a Topless..." He reaches up and applies it to his own forehead. It sticks for about a second, and then there is a CRACK! sound and it snaps in half, clattering to the table. "That happens." He begins reaching under the table for a carrying case, and puts it on his part of the table, adding, "However, as it stands, the Seal can be easily removed by the Topless. The only real thing stopping them is the provisions in the Fraternity Treaty which threaten sanctions against them for removing their Seals in unauthorized areas. Now, however, there is another device, recently developed, which is already seeing use in our Octobrion facility where the Toplesses are currently being treated for battle wounds." He pulls it out. It looks uncannily like headgear one might put on a mentally deficient child - literally, it is a helmet composed of metal rods, with a circular section which fits over where the Topless Seal would be on the forehead. It is held in place by two keyholes, and would not be possible for the wearer to remove. "With this device," the Surgeon General notes, "unauthorized removal of the Topless Seal is impossible. This also, of course, removes any need we may have for alternative methods." That's probably his way of avoiding having to say 'kill'. The one upside to tonight - nobody here seems to actually want to /kill/ the Toplesses.
"Number Seven and the Buster Corps. are more than capable of moving to multiple battlesights," the android says, though gosh that quieter ticking is nice. "With their Warp technology, their response time from anywhere in the solar system would be a mere fraction of the time it takes Fraternity to respond with a space station right nearby. That is what the data from our tests on Number Seven indicate, at least."
Dhoraso and the Military Police's man both nod, approving of this figure.
"Moreover, the data indicates that Number Seven is not quite as childish as you claim, Lord Vetinari." He looks up, his eyes refocusing. He pointedly does not look at the clock. "She is in excess of ten thousand years old, and although she does not quite act her age, psychologically, she is very much capable of cognition on the level of an adult. According to psychiatric reports, she is merely...exuberant, and somewhat innocent to a number of common elements of society. This is due more to her upbringing in a remote area of Mars than any personality defect on her part."
Finally, however, the Military Police's man runs out of people to hide behind, grunts, and looks back at Sanger. He...doesn't answer, merely breathing heavily. Finally, he says simply, "That's not my station. I might just, if I had powers like hers. But it's not my place."
Dhoraso...frowns, unhappy.
Sanger Zonvolt growls.
Amuro Ray says, "Major?"
Sanger Zonvolt says, "I should cut that thing apart."
Roy Fokker gives a small cough. "...patience, Sanger.."
Sanger Zonvolt says, "It's... gh."
Sanger actually remains quiet for a bit as he listens to this information on the headgear meant to seal a Topless' power. He does not look thrilled; he does not, however, start getting red-faced as he is prone to. He is deathly silent, instead, and leans forward. There is a moment where he almost reaches a hand downward. He stays it.
He looks at the military police's man. "Then don't presume to make decisions about those who have bled where you can't." His eyes turn to Dhoraso. "What about you? Are /you/ willing to? Or will you use..."
He points at the device. ".../these/ monstrosities?"
The ticking gets louder as Drumknott adjusts the clock again. /Bad android/. "Is she? Tell me - how much have you interacted with her? I'm sure that Commander Fokker could, being her current superior officer, tell you how much she values her friends."
Vetinari's voice is getting colder here. "Gentlemen, we are men of our countries. We must take the long view, and not what seems most expedient. I am sure you know this. While tests are all fine and wonderful, we all know that simple truism: no plan survives contact with the enemy. Buster Machine Seven - Nono - is far more complex than you know anything about. You've said as much yourselves. If she breaks down - and to my knowledge, no machine is perfect..." A lie. But Vetinari lies when he feels like it. "Which means that, should such an unfortunate event occur, you are defenseless. As you are all /wise/ men, I'm sure you wouldn't do anything to leave yourselves in such a state."
Pause. "Further, you have told me that the ancient humans were unable to fully defeat their Topless foes, correct? This implies to me that Toplessness contains the /possibility/ of being more powerful than Busters. Your mysterious foes of the ancients have had millenia to learn their power better - what survivors there were, in any case - and may arrive to defeat their ancient foes. Nono's reawakening, so to speak, seems to suggest this is plausible." The Patrician continues, his face no longer remotely friendly - or unfriendly. Neutral. "Further, you have told me that ninety-nine percent of your population becomes Topless. This is not abnormal any more, or I have misread the laws of statistics. Your granddaughter, General." Vetinari turns his face to Dhoraso. "Would you have her wear such a device all her life?"
Allen Braford says, "Is something up?"
Finally, finally Roy speaks.
"And when the Syndicate finds out you have taken the Topless out of the picture, and drop the Crusaders into your backyard?" the commander of the Black Sheep asks. "You are looking at a one dimensional picture and treating it as such." Roy Fokker finally says, taking this time, this moment to start slamming holes into the plan.
"You may be able to hold off the Space Monsters. As you said, they have no way of planning - to stragize. What happens when you are hit by someone who can? Do you expect the IPA to be able to mobilize in time?" Standing up slowly, the Veritech commander covers his side with his hand. "You asked me to take charge of Nono's command and development. To not only be her commander but to help to strengthen her ties between your world and the Multiverse."
Closing his eyes, Roy lowers his head, the stubborn ass. "...I hereby extend that same offer to all Topless pilots at this time." His hand reaches up to Sanger's shoulder. Stay your ground, it says simply.
"Sanger and Havelock have said much this evening - however, what it is is pretty words and growled threats. In the end, members of the council - is that you have developed a response to a singular threat - and if you stay with it..."
"...you..."
"...you.." Another look.
"And you..." And one last look towards each of the Council members as he coughs, swallowing down hard.
"...are not risking the lives of the Topless or yourselves. You are gambling your lives, those of every person that lives on this planet, and everyone that you could ever care about.. because.. of.. fear..."
Roy Fokker says, "...S-Sanger.. you're the only reason why I'm on my feet. Don't move, please."
Havelock Vetinari says, "Commander Fokker?"
Havelock Vetinari says, "Never go into politics."
Havelock Vetinari says, "You wouldn't enjoy it in the slightest."
Koji Kabuto says, "I'd vote for him, but that's just me."
Sanger Zonvolt says, "Sir."
Roy Fokker says, "Yeah, Major?"
Sanger Zonvolt says, "I won't be moving. Are you all right?"
Roy Fokker says, "Peachy. Pain meds are fading from last night's rumble is all."
Roy Fokker says, "I don't plan to."
"Ah, we failed to inform you of that part, then," the Surgeon General says. He's visibly startled, as perhaps any novice would be before the combined verbal assaults of Sanger Zonvolt and Havelock Vetinari and Roy Fokker, but he is at least calmer - perhaps because he is not military and is thus smugly assured of his own safety. "Toplessness fades by twenty. Sometimes sooner, but never much later. Nobody's sure what causes it - some say 'spiritual age', but then what constitutes spiritual age? It's quite an enigma. But always, a Topless's time ends. Often it's accompanied by a slight fever."
"Nikola Vacheron," the apparently nameless assistant android manages despite the maddening ticking, "is one such example. His time ended shortly after the Titan incident, according to reports."
"Further...there is a theory that Toplessness will eventually lead to an evolution into those very same Variable Gravity Wells," the Surgeon General supplies. This almost makes the muttering start again, but Dhoraso silences it with a sharp look. The admiral looks first to Vetinari. "It would pain me," he admits, "that she might have to. It is not a comfortable subject among us."
He turns his eyes to Sanger. "I most certainly would," he says. "I would not hesitate to lay my life on the line for Humanity." Perhaps asking the Admiral of a forward fleet was not the best way to get some points in that field...
All eyes turn to Roy. He is weak and injured - the Surgeon General looks about ready to go tend to him. But they listen. And, slowly, Dhoraso nods.
"The man speaks true," he says. "I have heard many tales of fleets surpassing even the power of the Buster Corps." Several people rise as if in protest, but Dhoraso glares and they stop. "It is not in anyone's interests to completely rely on Number Seven so long as the Gates remain at hand - and we know full well that there is no total way of destroying them."
"We can use the /Military/," says the man of the Military Police, and slams his hansd on the table. "Why the hell do we keep trying to rely on a bunch of teenagers!? The military EXISTS for the common defense!"
Dhoraso frowns, and looks over at the IPL's trio. "That is true...but tell me, Lord Vetinari, Mr. Zonvolt, Commander Fokker. This Syndicate. They possess members of surpassing power and prowess, do they not?"
"Aye." Roy says, using one of his fiancee's mannerisms as he continues to keep a hand on Sanger's shoulder. Obstently, it's to keep Sanger from advancing - in truth, it's to keep Roy from falling. "...they are powerful. As is the IPA. My own world is under the threat of an intelligent.. massive armada.. however. With the IPA and even your Nono, we will be able to keep them at bay." the Veritech pilot comments.
"You ask what your military is for. I cannot answer that. All I can answer is that as long as there in Buster Pilots -- or Topless -- if you will then myself, my Sheep, and all that I can muster will protect you from those threats. Both foreign and domestic."
"They do." Vetinari nods. "The Syndicate possesses men who can do many things - things that, in the terms of this world, may be impossible even for Buster Machine Seven." He pauses, and seems to think. "Perhaps you have heard of the being Envy, who can shift his shape to that of other creatures - or Shadow, who is said to have been able to erase souls. They are, of course, but a few. Not all threats from the Syndicate can be dealt with via the military. As for teenagers...I am often surprised by the number of them in the IPA ranks...but it is, occasionally, as my friend Zordon says." Vetinari smiles briefly. "Sometimes, the world is best served by a team of teenagers with attitude. They may have insights that older men do not, or bursts of inspiration. Guided, of course, by the hand of experience, they can be more powerful, in their way, than armadas - but both are needed, for each is suited to different circumstances. I'm sure you know this."
Roy Fokker says, "Y-you just described seventy-five percent of my unit, Havelock."
Havelock Vetinari says, "Indeed."
"You are facing a threat you cannot fully understand - and possibly many threats. Your military has been unable to fend off the Space Monsters," Sanger says. He doesn't sound pleased, but he holds back. "And moreover, you do a dishonor to those who have fought for you. If you have so little respect for those who are your comrades, Admiral..."
He glares, sharply. "Then I question whether you are a true soldier."
He falls quiet, after this. He has a bad feeling about this. Is this what governments were driven to? Turning on their protectors? Slitting their own throats? The IPA was still beholden to these governments. If Vetinari failed, they would take such a foolish course. He could stop this one.
He couldn't stop all of them. The seed that had been planted in Sanger's mind at Titan begins to grow.
Dhoraso gives Sanger a strange look, because he doesn't actually follow the man's words. He says, to Sanger, "Fraternity has always been separate from the Military. That has been part of the Treaty since its formation. Perhaps that is no longer a luxury we can afford. I...don't know." He shakes his head, ruefully. "But it is obvious to me that this universe of ours has need enough for both the Military and the Topless. Our Military is mighty."
"Our technology level can more than repulse many military threats from outside," the android notes, though he can't really say much else with that maddening tick - - - tock. "And our numbers are likewise impressive."
"Yes," Dhoraso says, slowly. "We can handle a great many issues. But there are things we cannot fight. As you say, we are ill-equipped to deal with individual threats. We are not well-prepared for man-sized foes. We must be able to adapt to such threats. Our military cannot as yet."
"Then..." mutters the military police's man, who knows where this is going.
"Then I will recommend to the Privy Council that the Buster Machines and Toplesses be maintained at battle-ready status."
He looks at the IPL's people, and says, "That is the best I am able to accomplish. I cannot guarantee the outcomes. I am but one voice."
Vetinari nods to Dhoraso - and then turns his eyes to each other council member. The look on his face, while not /hostile/, suggests that he knows of each of their private indiscretions.
He probably doesn't, of course.
Yet.
"I thank you, Admiral, as I'm sure do my comrades here - and Buster Machine Seven herself. I am sure you'll be able to carry the day." As he says this, his gaze lingers again on each other council member.
"...good.. good." Roy mutters, letting go of Sanger's shoulder and slips down into the chair. "Thank you, members of the Council."
Roy Fokker says, "...need to wrap this up soon. Can't convince Agrias forever that I snuck out to play poker and go to a strip club instead of a political meeting."
Freya Crescent says, "You told her the former instead?"
Havelock Vetinari says, "He told her the truth."
Havelock Vetinari says, "Don't worry, Commander." Possibly joking tone: "I'll sign an affidavit for you."
Roy Fokker says, "..she knows I'd be making it up. The political meeting would have gotten me chained to the bed."
"Then they never were your comrades," Sanger says. "Disappointing. Thank you for your time," the samurai concludes. He grits his teeth, looking angrily towards the council. He doesn't look pleased at all. This 'settlement' feels like too little to him. But...
He considers what Elzam had said. There may be other ways. He looks to the side and considers this, again.