trans_9 | (no subject)

Planet Designation: Agrestic Status: Terrestrial, Q-class. Non-sentient life: Extensive agricultural flora and livestock. Natural habitats have been entirely eliminated Semi-Sentient Life: None. Sentient Life: Population 18 billion. Variety of races due to history of heavy immigration from neighboring universes. Dominant race Kanil, although representatives claim no species-based discrimination exists on planet. Water: 80% of the planet's surface. Climate: Varied. Current location is warm and moderately humid, average temperature 60 degrees Farenheit. Regular rain seasons. Landscape: Mountains, plains and oceans. No deserts. All terrain has been terraformed for maximum productivity. Air: Type I (breathable) Sky: Red. Warnings: Daligig not permitted within Agrestican territory. Mission: Shore leave and refueling.

As Stacy's shuttles bring the crew down, they're treated to the sights of massive mountains to dwarf even the mightiest Earth mountain range and golden, green and purple grain fields that take up more space than some entire civilizations have managed to colonize. The shuttles finally settle at the primary port city, Rura, which is ideally situated near and equidistant to a sprawling ocean, the base of a mountain range and a swath of farmland.

The people of Agrestic, including humans, Helians, Kanil, and plenty of other races, are for the most part hard at work and rushing from place to place. Very few pay much attention to Stacy's shuttles, as travelers stopping at this city and incredibly commonplace. Those that aren't working are relaxing, unencumbered by technological gadgets - while the technology here is very advanced, it seems primarily used to aid workers in their duties, and not for leisure. Fresh produce brought into the market is scanned by tiny mechanical beetles that inspect each piece for defects, but the children are more likely to be playing with sticks and rocks than anything else.

The crew exits the shuttles to find themselves at a large air-port like building, which opens up to a farmer's market and a strip of restaurants. As they exit the shuttles, some of the human port workers apologize for any inconvenience.

"We're sorry you couldn't bring the whole ship down, but the Truce specifically forbids Daligig to enter our airspace. You're lucky we managed to get clearance for shuttles of Daligig make to come in!" they say, before rushing off to help the next arrivals.

To return to the ship, a crew member may enter a shuttle and the autopilot will zip them back up to Stacy's underbelly. The crew may make as many trips back and forth as they like.

[OOC: This post itself will be for interactions with NPCs. Please do not set up subthreads in this post unless you are an NPCer. If you would like to create a new location on Agrestic, or do an open/closed log on the shore leave, please set up your own log. This will make it easier for our NPCers to know where they're needed.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"The worst!" Basil gives a self-deprecating purr and takes a shrimp cup for himself. Truth be told, it's not possible to be less committed to his diet than he is. He more likes the idea of being on a diet than the practice. "Positive torture."

His pupils dilate in obvious interest. "A traveler, then? Are you from that monstrous great ship in orbit right now? Not monstrous as in ugly, I'm sure, but I've heard tell it's the size of a moon."

"I'm sure you'll make it," Billy tries to comfort. It's hard, having self-discipline like that, but it can be done. His own problems, he thinks, sound far less possible to solve.

So why not talk a little? For once, he's (probably) not being watched by the people who might kill him for what he's thinking. "I am. We're on a supply run. I've been hauling parts back and forth all morning," he says with a wince. He'd need a nice long rest that night.

"Is that a problem here?"

"The harder the work, the deeper the sleep." Basil shakes his head and takes a seat across from Billy.

"Of course not! If you were cleared by the customs officials upon entry, I have no issue with you. Agrestic holds its arms open to almost everyone, no matter what the size of their ship." Indeed, Agrestic has naturalized immigrants from ships the size of planets to the tiniest space modules. They believe that cultural variety is a strength. "Even from Daligig ships, provided you're one of their draftees."

Billy relaxes further into his chair. This is excellent restaurant design---it's such a shame he can only come here once!

He sits back up when Basil mentions the Daligig's drafting. They so rarely have a look at the broader view of the war, they've been caught up in their own ship for so long and cut off from most information.

"One of how many?"

"Thousands, maybe millions, I suppose. It depends on how you define 'draftee'. You could argue that this isn't even our own war, and that we were just dragged into it because the Daligig and the Ohm couldn't keep it contained to their silly chunk of the universe. None of the rest of us asked to get dragged into it."

Basil takes another shrimp cup. His ears flatten and his tail lashes. "Not that some wonderful things haven't come from it, of course. The GIA. This planet. But the Ohm destroyed my planet and it's common knowledge that it's more their feud with the Daligig than anything else."

"So it's a massive problem," Billy realizes. He pokes at his food, suddenly losing interest in favor of pondering their massive predicament.

Interestingly, Basil seems to speak of the Ohm as a separate unit with their own goals. "When we awakened, we were told that the Ohm were mindless destroyers---there was no feud, just an all-out war for no reason. That's too irrational to be true, but I've never heard better."

Basil's tail lashes back and forth. "I may be an optimist, but I find it hard to believe in a race like that. Besides, back when we were on speaking terms, the Daligig discouraged us from trying to contact the Ohm. They said it was too dangerous for our little minds. We've long since grown past taking the Daligig at their word."

His ears twitch. "Besides, everyone knows they come from the same universe."

"Everyone doesn't include us," Billy's quick to say. He finally manages another bite around his surprise. "It's not really incriminating on its own, but if they know so much..."

He sighs. "Even more's being hidden than we thought. Why do they start to sound like puppetmasters after a while?"

"Because they are." Basil's cheeks and whiskers perk up as if he's about to hiss. "And they assume we're too stupid to see the strings."

"And we were too stupid, for too long," Billy realizes. "But that ends now. I think...we're talking about pulling away from them, but it's so dangerous." He rests his head in his hand, elbow propped on the chair's arm.

"But staying with them could be even more dangerous, I think."

Basil leans forward, ears up and at attention, tail suddenly still. "Don't waste time if you're going to do so. If they catch wind of a mutiny they'll come down hard on you. But there are allies for you throughout the multiverse. Very many allies."

"I'll be sure to tell them that," Billy noted, scribbling down another little reminder. "Would we be able to make contacts from here?"

Basil licks his hand and rubs the back of his ear. "Do you have a pen? The name of the planet unpronounceable to my tongue."

"I do," Billy answers, promptly digging one out of his pouch. He passes it and a napkin to a little side table.

Basil writes down some numbers and then something that, when Billy's translator microbes fixes it, looks like Wuwemwilla. "This is a signal frequency and the name of the planet. That should give you an ability to tune into their broadcasts and see what the conditions are like there."

Billy instantly scrambles to create a few copies of the message and hide them, just in case. They can't afford to lose this piece of information.

"Thank you. I can't tell you how much this helps. Having a shred of hope out here means a lot."