Duke Buchanan spreads his message of not-so-good will to some of the alien denizens of Sanctuary…
Flight Deck <UCV Sanctuary>
– Sanctuary –
A high, broad chamber that serves as the flight prep and launch deck for the Sanctuary colony ship. A blister module high atop the port wall, above the entrance, serves as the control tower. To starboard, a wide slit opens onto the blackness of space. The cargo bay is aft. A muster room is fore.
Sat Jan 22 23:39:31 2652
MacDonald frowns at the packages but looks back to Volestad, “Well then..if you can get our ID cards set up and move us into the schedule..I’d appreciate it very much..”
Volestad flickers with yellow as Arn’ga approaches. “Yes?” he says, and also gives a nod to MacDonald. “Of course.”
Buchanan strides onto the flight deck, his eyes taking in the activity.
MacDonald smiles slightly and then glances over at Arn’ga
Arn’ga straightens from his looming. “You stare at me too long, why?” his spine bristles seem to move slightly in agitation.
Volestad flickers with a bit of red light, and says apologetically, “I did not mean to be rude… it is just that you were generating a good deal of… extraneous noise.”
Buchanan walks closer to the cluster of people. “That’s just like a Zangali.”
Abrix arrives from Service/Defense Quarter <UCV Sanctuary>.
Abrix has arrived.
Arn’ga looks down the 2 inches of height “this is a flight deck”
Abrix walks into the deck, and looks around.
Buchanan smirks at the imposing Zangali glowering at Volestad. “Bullies to the end.”
Volestad tilts his head and looks toward Buchanan, and shrugs. “I would say that he is a Zangali… your use of simile was inappropriate.”
Buchanan turns his cold eyes toward Volestad. “Spare me the grammar lesson, flash bulb.”
Arn’ga attempts to ignore Buchanan but is showing signs of high anger
Volestad raises his eyebrows. “As you wish.” He flickers with yellow, and just a few threads of purple light.
Arn’ga turns to Buchanan “quiet!”
Abrix looks at Buchanan, seeming to remember something he heard earlier in the day.
Buchanan flashes an impassive look at the Zangali. “Freedom of speech, right? It *is* the flight deck. Don’t like what I have to say? There’s the launch bay.” He points toward the stars.
Volestad says, lightly, “Spare us the political and geography lessons.”
Buchanan chuckles. “Touche,” he says with a dark smile to Volestad. “Man, what the hell was Cottington thinking, putting one of *your* kind in charge.”
Healingwind arrives from Service/Defense Quarter <UCV Sanctuary>.
Healingwind has arrived.
Volestad tilts his head, “I believe he was thinking that I would make a good administrator, given my record with CCE.”
Arn’ga says “he got a problem” asking to Volestad
Abrix observes the ongoing conversation between Volestad and the human, not sure if he wants to get involved.
Buchanan smirks. “Oh, yes, I’m sure that was it. Probably nothing to do with his usual cowtowing to the aliens aboard this ship of fools.”
Volestad tilts his head upward just a bit, and says, “I would not complain, seeing as you seem to be taking the role of jester.”
Healingwind walks out onto the flight deck. He really has no business being here, but his curiosity got the best of him and exploring the parts of ship he hasn’t yet seemed like a good idea.
Buchanan nods. “Yes,” he says coldly, “a lot of people do treat what I say like a joke. But some don’t, Light Singer. Some understand. Some grasp it. And some are getting damned sick and tired of seeing humans treated like second class citizens.”
Arn’ga says, “you, doing the same to me”
Buchanan turns toward Arn’ga. “I’m doing *what* to you, lizard man?”
Abrix raises his antenna and clamps his maniables shut before slowly walking towards Volestad and Buchanan.
Volestad frowns. “How are humans being treated thusly? They make at least forty percent of the population, between the Earthers, Lunites, Qua, Sivadians and so on.”
Arn’ga rears to his full hight of 8’2″
Buchanan doesn’t seem all that impressed by the massive Zangali.
Arn’ga says, “you treat me like a cockroach to you”
Buchanan shakes his head. “No. I treat you like trouble. I consider you – and your kind – a detriment to mankind. You have been since the 22nd Century.”
Healingwind spots the gathering of people, and recognizes a few of them. He can tell violence might break out, and that’s always bad. He walks over calmly, and smiles to all present. “How are we this evening?” he asks, as if nothing were going on.
Volestad clears his throat. “Words are much easier to retract then flesh wounds. Do keep this in mind — both of you.”
Volestad nods to Healingwind. “It is good to see you.” He eyes Buchanan, “You may join in on this little debate of social dynamics, if you like.”
Arn’ga examines who is present noticing Healing winds happy attitude he seems less tense “I leave this, do not come back near me”
Falkenberg arrives from Service/Defense Quarter <UCV Sanctuary>.
Falkenberg has arrived.
Jest’liana arrives from Service/Defense Quarter <UCV Sanctuary>.
Jest’liana has arrived.
Buchanan arches his eyebrows. “Thin skinned, Zangali?”
Falkenberg glances at the gathering curiously as he moves across the flight deck.
Arn’ga grumbles, “Dumb minded, human?
Jest’liana walks in directly after Falkenberg, looking around at the crowd as well.
Buchanan shrugs, smiling. “I’m blessed with the gift of perspective, spinehead. Get some.”
Healingwind smiles to Volestad. Then he says, “I know little of social dynamics. There were very few other races on Quaquan. But, it seems foolish to judge people on their outward differences. I’ve worked on all races since coming here, and found they all bleed pretty much the same.”
Falkenberg pauses, catching a bit of the conversation. He stops and motions to Jest, and turns to watch the crowd.
Buchanan turns his attention back to Volestad, effectively dismissing Arn’ga. “Ever since they fought us over Mars – a planet THEY stole from us because they couldn’t hold their own – we have had nothing but trouble with aliens. Every bad turn in our recent history, we can thank aliens for.”
Jest’liana’s eyes fall on Buchanan in a measure of recognition. She nods amiably to Falkenberg.
Abrix reaches the small group and looks at Buchanan ~You are an idiot, you and all who believe what you say.~
Buchanan turns to Abrix. “Am I? That’s funny, coming from you, chitterbreath.”
Volestad pitches his head downwards, “You are forgetting, that at every bad encounter you have had with so-called aliens, you humans were present as well.”
Arn’ga with fists bunched says “human acting stupid as allways” seemingly to himself
Buchanan shrugs. “A Demarian caused the destruction of Val Shohob and earned the wrath of the Kretonians – more aliens – who came after our worlds. And aliens are taking up an awful lot of space on this boat. Lots of humans had to stay behind as a result.”
Falkenberg mutters to Jest out of the corner of his mouth, “Sounds like one of those SHIP people I was just telling you about from the news, like that idiot in Libertyville.”
Volestad tilts his head. “And it was humans who made first contact with the Il’Rikammi.”
“Yes. With carefully edited facts too. Curiouser and Curiouser.” Jest notes.
Buchanan nods. “Yes, the damned Ri’Kammi. Puppet masters.”
Abrix shakes his head ~My friends, aliens, died trying to save your world from the Kretonians. They fought and died beside your kind.~
Healingwind ponders pulling out a poison powder and blowing it towards Buchanan, but that’s not his way. Instead he says, “You hate because you fear. And I must admit, all these races can be a tad intimidating, but just get to know them and you’re attitude will change.”
Buchanan turns toward Abrix. “Good. They owed it to us.”
Falkenberg’s eyes are fixed on the little group. After a moment he begins to walk slowly toward them, a strange expression on his face.
Buchanan glances in Healingwind’s direction. “Ah, a Qua, yes?”
Volestad smiles tightly. “What a delightful attitude you have. Human society, I should like to point out, is just as warlike as the Nalls, Demarians, and other such races, or so I have read so far.”
Arn’ga raises himself to full “soft skin, go home, you have said your words, now take action or leave”
Healingwind nods, “Yes, I am Qua.” He looks back to Falkenberg and Jest, giving a nod and friendly smile.
Mern arrives from Civilian Vessel Hangar <UCV Sanctuary>.
Mern has arrived.
Buchanan laughs at Volestad. “I never claimed to be a peacenik.” He ignores Arn’ga, looking back toward Healingwind. “Then you’re almost perfect.”
Abrix raises his arms in furstration. ~You blame us for all of your probelms. Must I remind you that it was humans that went out into the universe to try to contact aliens.~
Volestad tilts his head. “Almost perfect?”
Buchanan nods to Abrix. “Influenced by the Ri’Kammi, yes.”
Jest’liana also walks to the group. “Starting a fight, you know, will only make things worse.” She says, to whomever in general. “Why give credence to the views by even bothering to address them?”
Mern rolls out onto the landing pad….His eyes quickly catch sight of Buchanan and he frowns….Here we go again.
Falkenberg stares at Buchanan.
Healingwind just shakes his head, “I am far from perfect. As is everyone else.”
At length, Falkenberg speaks…a look of barely concealed rage on his face. “I don’t believe it. I don’t BELIEVE it. Even here. Even HERE there are morons like this. And people who’ll listen to them. I’ve seen too many jerks like this.”
Arn’ga looks at Buchanan staring with hatred at him bristles upright and arm bunched, he appeares to be considering something
Buchanan crosses his arms. “The fact is, we’re wasting precious resources on a bunch of alien hangers-on after abandoning a lot of good humans back on Earth and Mars – all in the name of Cottington’s precious political correctness. We should have taken humans only – and would have, if it’d been *me* spending the money. A damned shame I didn’t have the money. Did you know Cottington made special accommodations for *all* the Mystics from Galactix? ALL of them. So many humans could have come instead…”
Jest’liana’s eyes widen, “Hey! He has a point….Mr..what was your name?” Jest saunters over to Buchanan.
Volestad tilts his head. “In variety there is strength. Evolution proves this.” He flares with dull blue, purple, and vibrant red.
Buchanan glances toward Jest’liana, smiling faintly. “My name is Duke Buchanan.”
Abrix shakes his head ~You humans think you are so important, you think you are all just and good. If anything you should thank the other races for what we have given to you!~
Mern glares at Volestad, “You want to prove evolution itself first?”
Volestad raises his eyebrows. “I am not a geneticist, but the theory is generally accepted, is it not?”
Jest’liana extends her hand for him to shake. “Nice to meet you. Jest. So, it is a matter of using resources on the ones worth of them, right?”
Mern rolls towards Abrix, “Just as you are upset with him for lumping all non-humans into one category, I would be offended to be classified with him.
Arn’ga laughs to himself “This human, he is product of De-evolution”
Mern glances at Volestad wryly, “Doesn’t make it true.”
Healingwind looks to Falkenberg. “He is entitled to believe what he will. As mistaken as he may be, we cannot condemn him for that.” He watches Jest, “Is she serious about buying this?”
Buchanan shakes hands with Jest’liana, then says, “It is certainly a matter of not making special accommodations based on race.”
Volestad sighs slightly. “It makes it about as true as anything gets in this universe. Or any universe, for that matter.”
Falkenberg looks at Healingwind for a moment. “Believe what he wants?? Friend, you didn’t grow up where I did, or you wouldn’t feel that way.” He glances at Jest. “And don’t worry about her,” he says quietly.
Mern smiles, “Well, if its so true, then would you mind explaining one minor flaw?”
Volestad tilts his head, and throbs with dull purple. “I am not a scientist, but I will try.” He says with just a hint of weariness.
Mern nods, “Where did matter come from?”
Jest’liana smiles and nods, “Of course. You are right. And it does seem unfair that so many good strong humans were left behind, when the mystics were accepted without question.” She tilts her head, biting her lip and then adopting a thoughtful expression.
Volestad shrugs. “Matter is. That is the definition of existence.”
Healingwind nods to Falkenberg. It seems he’d rather talk with him than listen to Buchanan right now. “You’re right, I came from Quaquan where things were much simpler. I am Healingwind.”
Mern shakes his head, “But according to the laws of cause and effect, it must have come from _somewhere_”
Falkenberg now allows a somewhat questioning glance at Jest.
Buchanan shrugs. “I don’t give a damn about whether the humans were strong or not. I’m talking men, women, children – all now enslaved or dead under the fist of the Kretonians.”
Volestad shakes his head, and flickers with yellow. “But according to the laws of conservation, it must have always existed.”
Arn’ga turns from the crowd gathered and heads for the panel near the Cargo Bay
Falkenberg can’t keep listening to this. “Enslaved or dead? Humans would know a lot about that, wouldn’t they, Mr. Buchanan?”
Buchanan glances toward Falkenberg, a smile creeping eerily across his face. “Not exactly human, hrm?”
Mern nods, “So there must have been some starting point for the universe then. A point where the laws of physics were not in effect yet.”
Abrix look at buchanan, his maniables clamped tigtly together. ~Do you not think that there are Mekke now dead too because of the Kretonians, did thay not have as much right to be here as humans?~
Falkenberg stares at him. “That depends on who you listen to. A simple blood test might not show it…but I grew up on Luna.”
Volestad tilts his head. “No. There is no reason to extrapolate that the laws of physics did not apply to the beginning of the universe.”
A small beeping starts then stops and a display written in Zangali is brought up
Mern smiles, “So how did the universe come to being?”
“But, if you might as well take it to its logical conculsion. Surely /you/ must see that.” Jest smiles. “Leave off all the aliens… why not leave off everyone who doesn’t fit your profile? Or rather…/my/ profile. You look rather overweight, Mr. Buchanan. Flabby, ugly and rather revolting.” She nods firmly, “Yes. That is it. Based on appearence, you’ll be tossed out the air lock at the next opportunity. With everyone else I don’t approve of. So let it be written so let it be done.” She grins and gestures widely. That problem solved, she looks around fr something else to get involved in.
Buchanan chuckles and nods to Falkenberg. “A tuber. Nice. Another race that benefited from political correctness.”
Arn’ga Reads the display thoughtfully
Volestad frowns, ignoring the other conversation in favor of arguing with Mern. “It always was. Why assume it ever was not, if it is?”
Falkenberg takes two rapid steps toward Buchanan, not hearing anyone else’s words. “WHAT did you call me?”
Healingwind just sighs, this could turn ugly and he’s not in the mood to patch anybody up. He can’t help but laugh at Jest’s comment. “Very good point Ms…” he searches for a name.
Buchanan turns his attention darkly back to Jest’liana. “You raise an army to kick me off this ship, then see if you can outnumber mine, bitch.” He snaps back toward Falkenberg. “Did I strike a nerve, man in a can?”
Mern grins antagonizingly, “Because everything has a cause….”
Arn’ga picks up a pile of crates and heads for the crowd
Mern’s attention is drawn back to Buchanan and his eyes darken in fury. He begins to roll towards him, “Back off…” he says simply in a low voice.
Abrix looks over at the reactions to the figth that Buchanan is about to start.
Buchanan ignores the cripple.
Volestad flickers with orange-red. “But it is illogical to assume that one law takes precedence over another. There should be a hypothesis that satisfies both –” He turns his focus to the others.
Falkenberg’s face is bright red with rage. “HERE’s an army, Buchanan. I’ll throw you out the nearest airlock MYSELF.” He moves right up into Buchanan’s face.
Jest’liana is in a position to do so, so she takes Falkenberg’s arm. “Don’t.” She says quietly, firmly. “Don’t give him the ammo.”
Buchanan smiles, unflinchingly. “It would be one of the last things you ever did.”
Abrix moves his claw a bit closer to his knives, waiting, but not willing to make a first move.
A bang Is herd as five crates hit the ground outside the group, a grumbeling is herd. Arn’ga then says in a voice not needing to be herd but easily picked up “I work for all, me deliver for my food. One species good at things, other at other. I help Humans live , no hard work for them
Mern stops as bidden, but snarls, “We’ll carve that on your gravestone….now _back off_”
Volestad tilts his head. “The situation as it is,” He says to Buchanon, “is that humans who feel the way that you do are outnumbered by the general population. I would imagine they are even outnumbered by humans who feel as most of us do. That being as it may… live with it. We are already in the middle of nowhere, the decision is made. We are all here.”
Falkenberg ignores Jest. “I’ve heard that from worse than you, buddy.” He shoves Buchanan in the chest. “You think you’re a tough guy? I don’t see anyone here to protect you.”
Volestad flares with red. “I would not do this, Falkenberg.” He does not move to interfere, however.
Healingwind sighs, his attempts to ease tension having failed. “I assure all of you, that if I must work overtime patching up any of you, you’ll have ugly scars for life.” Is he serious or joking? Hard to tell.
Falkenberg glances back at Volestad. “Easy for you to say. You didn’t grow up in the shadow of a whole planetful of people who spew garbage like this at you everywhere you go.”
Buchanan steps back as he’s shoved, his smile faltering slightly for a moment, but then coming back in full force. “A coward travels with an army. I don’t think a man should have to worry about being beaten senseless for speaking his mind. Of course, if all you’re programmed to do is use those meathammers of yours to do your talking…” He lets his voice trail off and crosses his arms.
Volestad frowns, and says, “I knw what it is like to be enslaved.” He flares with purple.
Abrix looks at Buchanan ~Speaking your mind? This is harassment! I will have you know I will offically post a complaint with the police on this matter.~
Mern hisses, rolling forwards again, “Well my friend, I _haven’t_ been programmed at _any_ time….and I don’t have the use of my ‘meathammers’….But I suggest you leave…now…”
Falkenberg looks at Buchanan. “Speaking your mind? You’d have to have one first. You want to call me a tuber? I’ll let more than my fists do the talking, and there’ll be one less claim on Sanctuary’s resources.”
Arn’ga moves through the crowd comes face to face with Buchanan leaning down to him he says “what work do you DO?”
Buchanan chuckles, glancing toward Abrix. “Do your worst, jitterbug.” He glowers at Mern, then moves on to look at Falkenberg. “I’m right here, big boy.” He spreads his arms. “Speak right up.” He ignores the Zangali, despite the rancid breath.
Jest’liana’s hand tightens on Falkenberg’s arm. “That is enough. We all agree the bag of flab here is an idiot. And anyone who plays into his paranoia and rabble rousing is running close to stupidity themselves.”
Falkenberg glances at Jest as if noticing her for the first time. He glares at Buchanan for another moment.
Healingwind now steps in front of Buchanan, facing out towards the others. “There will be /no/ violence. I care little for this man, but fighting will do nothing besides give his followers something to hate even more.”
Mern stops again, though his face remains twisted with rage.
Buchanan quirks his mouth into a sardonic smile.
Arn’ga grunts his agreament at hearing Healingwind
Volestad sighs slightly. “The Vollistans, the Centaurans, and the Castori,” he mumbles to himself. “Are we the only races without an instinct for violent altercation?”
Mern speaks again, glaring at Buchanan. “You wait….”
Abrix looks over Buchanan ~Tell me Mister, if you had the chance to kill an alien to rid this ship of one less hungry mouth would you?~
Buchanan chuckles, his eyes drifting back to Volestad. “Who needs violence when you can manipulate minds?”
Volestad glares back at Buchanan. “If I could, why am I not doing so now?” He flares with vibrant purple.
Falkenberg seems to calm down somewhat. He glowers at Buchanan. “Perhaps another time, we’ll finish this discussion in private,” he says in a quieter voice.
Buchanan mimics Healingwind: “Because it would give my followers something to hate even more?”
“I think he means that he is doing so right now..” Jest says quietly.
“Nicholas?” Jest turns to look at Mern.
Volestad tilts his head. “You and your followers seem to have plenty of hate without reason. Why worry
Mern rolls backwards a foot or two. He looks up at Jest’liana and nods, indicated he has completely retreated.
Abrix seems not to be able to hold back his anmuch longer and takes a few steps towards the laine hater.
Falkenberg continues to stare at Buchanan a moment, still trying to master his rage.
Healingwind does not move from his spot between Buchanan and his potential attackers. It is hard to force himself protect this man, but he must do what he feels is right. “Why don’t we all just ignore him?”
Buchanan nods. “Ignore me. Please. Let me work in peace.” He smiles.
Falkenberg flicks a glance at Healingwind. “Yeah…ignore him. Until he becomes impossible to ignore.”
Arn’ga resides next to Volestad appearing to be content to grunt affirmations
Volestad inhales sharply. “As you said, you are no peacemonger.”
Jest’liana nods to Mern and lets go of Falkenberg’s arm. “I’m headed back to Asylum. If you boys wish to accompany me, you can.” She turns to head to the civilian hanger.
Kris’nath exits from the Fool’s Pride.
Kris’nath arrives from Civilian Vessel Hangar <UCV Sanctuary>.
Kris’nath has arrived.
Arn’ga says, “so you do work?”
Falkenberg turns his back on Buchanan after a long moment, and moves to follow Jest.
Buchanan nods, deigning finally to give Arn’ga’s existence notice again. “I do. I work for my fellow man.”
Mern nods to Jest’liana, rolling away slowly, backwards, keeping his blazing eyes on the man.
Arn’ga says, “bah I`d like to see your work in the Cargo bay”
Buchanan smiles faintly. “I’m sure you do a great job at it.”
Healingwind watches Mern, Falkenberg and Jest leave. Then turns to the others. “Will the rest of you just walk away?”
Arn’ga grunts to himself in a regular fashion
Volestad tilts his head. “Perhaps I should note your official occupation, so that you can be duly rewarded for your efforts.” He says ruefully.
Abrix seems to less the tension on his maniables for a moment. ~Tell me Alien hater, would you take offense to me saying that all humans are a wast of space on this ship?~
Jest’liana walks into the civilian vessel hangar.
Jest’liana has left.
Arn’ga no , not for me You work hard instead”
Falkenberg walks into the civilian vessel hangar.
Falkenberg has left.
Kris’nath simply hisses in Healingwind’s general direction and continues to stroll towards the exit to the Defense Quarter.
Buchanan nods to Volestad. “I am Duke Buchanan, leader of the Society for Human Integrity and Purity.” He glances toward Abrix. “Offended? No, I’m pretty sure that’s what I’d expect from you.”
Kris’nath walks through a door that leads to the service/defense quarter.
Kris’nath has left.
Volestad flares with purple, stiffening as the Nall passes by.
Mern walks into the civilian vessel hangar.
Mern has left.
Arn’ga rears again in a laugh and says “you humans, funny, dont like me, still benefit me”
Abrix shakes his head ~Good, so If I was to say that all humans, based purely on the fact that they are humans, are morons, and incapable of any good you would expect that from a small minded alien like myself?~
Buchanan nods, smiling. “If I bothered to give it a moment’s thought, yes, that’s what I’d expect. Frankly, I don’t *care* what you think of mankind.”
Healingwind sighs, he walks away following after Jest, Falk and Mern.
Volestad smiles looking at Abrix and shimmering orange. “Turnabout is fair play, then.” He says.
Healingwind walks into the civilian vessel hangar.
Healingwind has left.
Abrix nods ~Very good, you can see my point then you small minded human.~
Buchanan laughs. “As I said, if it mattered, I might be offended. I’m not.” Then his eyes become rather glacial and the smile fades. “My followers, on the other hand, well, I can’t speak for them.”
Volestad raises his eyebrows. “I do not see what you hope to accomplish. We are all here, together. There is not really anything you can do to change that, even if you have a substantial following. Which I do not think you do.”
Buchanan nods to Volestad, smiling. “We’ll see.” The smile doesn’t quite touch his eyes.
Abrix shakes his head ~You mister are a plauge that will go amoung the people of this ship, twisting there minds, to make them belive what you say. I tell you I will not allow this to happen, A line will be drawn, and when you cross it, you will see the consiquences.~
Volestad says, blandly, “You will see that I do not intimidate easily. Your actions — and those you do in proxy, through your followers — will only alienate your selves from your fellow humans.” He grins, shimmering orange. “No pun intended, of course.”
Arn’ga turns away from the group and begins to work again, he seems agitated by the look of him. He scopes up his crates and moves off to the further ends of the Flight Deck
Buchanan smirks at the Mekke and the Vollistan. “Of course.” He nods. “Do have a good night.” He moves back toward the exit.