Plotbunny for sale - cheap

[Acyl]

Here's the thing, though, about Space Pirates.
No doubt, there's gonna be a few people with Handwavium ships...who use 'em for pure, simple larceny. Regular pirates.
But, you've gotta realise, if there's Fen Space Ninja, then there's going to be Fen Space Pirates.
One Piece. Space Pirate Captain Harlock. Too many others I could name.
Heck, you just know someone's flying a ship called the Black Pearl.
Meaning, these folks probably steal, but they're in it for the kicks, not the profit. =)
-- Acyl

[Rieverre]

Um, Acyl? That's pretty much already been stated as a given. Hell, the Concrete Crusader's flying the Jolly Harlock, after all.
-Griever
When tact is required, use brute force. When force is required, use greater force.
When the greatest force is required, use your head. Surprise is everything. - The Book of Cataclysm

[Evil Midnight Lurker]

Well, Harlock wasn't that kind of Space Pirate. He engaged in independent hostilities against the enemies of freedom and all, but generally didn't go around stealing from the generic rich.
And I'm not sure Luffy understands what the word "pirate" really means, at all.
But yeah, there'll probably be a couple of Space Pirate subfractions... not to mention Lupin and Westley fans...
...and if anyone tries plain or even fancy piracy while flying the Jolly Harlock, the Space Pirates of SSX Base will not rest until their character has been refamed. ^.^
--Sam
"The ninja are strong in this city!"

[Sirrocco]

EDIT: redundant now.

[ECSNorway]

Actually, there are two things that it's at least strongly been implied that 'wavium cannot do, outside entirely of the "no making a weapon straight up" clause.
1) FTL communications
2) Teleportation and dimensional wonkiness
Ideas I had had and discarded before coming up with the asteroid scheme were both violations of #2 above - first was a TARDIS or some other form of dimensionally-transcendantal whatsit, second was a 'magic door' between a dirtside apartment and a much larger place on the Island. The dirtside place would be my official residence, and I'd maintain a 'dane-side job of some sort, while commuting via Door to the Island for relaxation.
As for the Turtle ref - it's a callback to my all-time favorite space opera, Miller & Lee's 'Liaden' stories (check 'em out! They're GREAT!), several of which prominently feature an allied race of massive, nigh-immortal, turtle-like aliens, who amble around the galaxy in ships made out of gigantic converted asteroids.--
"I give you the beautiful... the talented... the tirelessly atomic-powered...
R!
DOROTHY!
WAYNERIGHT!
--
Sucrose Octanitrate.
Proof positive that with sufficient motivation, you can make anything explode.

[M Fnord]

---

But yeah, there'll probably be a couple of Space Pirate subfractions... not to mention Lupin and Westley fans...

---

Idle thought... you know those "I am the Dread Pirate Roberts #(whatever)" shirts you see for sale at every con?
In Fenspace, that's probably a trade union.
Just a thought.---
Mr. Fnord
http://fnord.sandwich.net/
http://www.jihad.net/
Mr. Fnord interdimensional man of mystery

FenWiki - Your One-Stop Shop for Fenspace Information

"I. Drink. Your. NERDRAGE!"

[Valles]

---

This, combined with its inherent unreliability makes it more fundamentally inimical to the entire *concept* of established power structures than any other tech anywhere ever. Whatever else you may have heard, *this* is why the law was passed - so they could take obvious use of the stuff as a crime in and of itself, and deal with people before they started really *exploiting* it.

---

Which is not, in and of itself, a bad decision. Certainly I'll agree that many, even most, of those behind it were acting out of the most selfish interests, but civilization itself is, in every way that matters, an established power structure itself.
Total acoherence is nonexistence just as surely as total rigidity. Complexity, life, humanity, require established rules and patterns to work from - this is true in the physics sense and the social one.
In the long run, one of two things will happen: One, Earth will grow more fluid and adaptive as 'wavetech penetrates and acts on its society, at the same time as the greater understanding of the gunk that makes that possible causes fennish culture to grow more rigid and established - IOW, they will remain seperate, but gradually grow so similar that the only remaining differences are cultural rather than, um, elemental or procedural. Or, two, the entire concept of seperate 'Fennish' and 'Danelaw' factions will be revealed as a delusion - that is, the Fen are the lab rats that human society is using to gather the knowledge it needs to act on the matter of wavetech.

---

Australia is becoming *rich*. It's likely a bit more dangerous than it had been, too, but that's Australia for you. It is also likely that there are a few other relatively small countries here and there that have decided to take the risk vs reward gamble and throw wide their arms to the Fen. None as big, and none as famous, but they're out there. I would expect Japan, for example, might pick one of the smaller islands as its Fennish Hong Kong. Taiwan would look to the skies, look to the mainland, decide that the fen were the lesser of two evils, and invite them in. Things like that.

---

Personally, I'd expect every major nation to follow the model you attribute to the Japanese - there are simply too many potential rewards to pass up if there's a way of controlling the risks - which, well, there is. Especially when you have individuals and ships who are willing to play the game your way and do business respectably; now that my edited rewrite of the original draft is in place, I see Moondance's economic niche as being exactly that - a cargo carrier who will sign contracts, make garantees, take out insurance, etc, rather than playing everything by ear as the fennish tradition usually does.
...Come to think of it, Natalie and Stacy and the Dancer are likely known to, at the very least, ECSNorway's character - since they'd've been handling a large share of the back-and-forth runs between the asteroid mines and the surface, when that enterprise was first starting up... unless all of that was handled 'in house', as it were?
Ja, -n
(Clutch FTW!)

===============================================
"Puripuri puripuri... Bang!"

[Morganite]

I seem to remember an earlier post suggesting that it *should* be able to provide FTL communications. Which does not mean it does so for everyone of course, but at least it saves authors from having to figure out how long it would take for communications to work under varying conditions...
-Morgan, still isn't entirely clear on the mechanics of this "no weapons" thing... Not that I guess it matters unless I come up with something interesting to write about, but it's the little questions that gnaw at you. '.'"I have no interest in ordinary humans. If there are any aliens, time travelers, or espers here, come sleep with me."
---From "The Ecchi of Haruhi Suzumiya"
-----(Not really)

[drakensis]

Yeah, she should be able to. She's got enough power to do it, so if you could swing the airspace permits, the delivery shouldn't be that big a problem. Should even be able to swing a discount if Mr.Morden could arrange for a few other decomissioned airframes to go with. Maybe a Flying Boxcar or two, an S-2 or something in that direction.

Flying Boxcars shouldn't be a problem and nor should the airspace permits. After the business with three Russian jet fighters and two surface-to-air missiles, Mr Morden has been quite a bit more careful about respecting 'Danelaw air traffic controllers.
D for Drakensis

You're only young once, but immaturity is forever.

[drakensis]

As far as law and order go, I suspect that there is a fairly concerted effort to get the larger groups to agree to some sort of loose code of conduct with meetings at Cons providing the nearest thing to governments that exist.
In general, Convention organisers are asked nicely to shedule a meeting for anyone who can prove that they represent a good-sized group of Fen to discuss what, if any, issues need to be settled; and an open meeting that anyone can come to so that the issue can be mentioned and a quick show of hands taken to see if there's any sort of consensus.
The wonder would be that it works at all, but it's fairly unusual to have more than a few thousand Fen in one place anyway.
As far as extradition goes, there is probably no offical position, but there are bounty hunter Fens and there is no rule that they can't haul someone down to the 'Danelaw. It won't work very well if someone's wandering around in the far reaches, but for those hanging around more crowded regions, it's fairly effective. Bounty Hunters often have access to handwavium'd forensics gear from the CSI-geekdom.

As for careers, there are probably a lot of Fen that do odd-jobs for the larger and better funded projects (like the Mars Terraforming) long enough to build up a stake to go wandering a while. So hauling comets to Mars, surveying Venus, prospecting for the Asteroid Miners, delivering supplies to various outposts, construction work building space stations or moonbases.
Besides that there would be niches for the aforementioned Bounty Hunters, wandering doctors, skilled craftsmen who can get better than average results with handwavium (like the Professor). There would also be a niche for deliverys - it's all very well ordering the newest DVDs, but UPS don't deliver to orbit, much less Mars (or do they?)
D for Drakensis

You're only young once, but immaturity is forever.

[K sai]

Something Completely different - but *I think* it still conforms to the established canon thus far. Bear in mind this would probably be set a little after the current ideas - 1 or 2 years maybe. I feel this could be one natural concequence of the ideas discussed in this thread
---
Rocking back slowly and painfully onto my knees from the awkward position of a moment before of crouching over my otherself, I wearily let the paint brush drop into the now empty 'wavium growth chamber and regarded the device which had been my constant companion for almost as long as I could remember.
It glistened in the dim light of the garage's single flickering fluro bar, every square milimeter covered with the 'wavium I had spent the last year painstakingly growing and radiating to in my homemade chamber, from the 'clean' capsule of pure 'wave I'd purchased through the fem 'black market'.
After the inital appearance of 'wavium and subsequent Fem 'explosion', the less savoury aspects of society begain taking advantage of 'Wave. Sure, you couldn't make 'Wave into heavy weapons without slapstick consequences painful to the user and amusing to observers (which kinda negated the point) but a terrorist had never needed heavy weaponry to make a point. After the fourth incident of of some certifiable fanatic using a 'made-to-order' 'Wavium supercomp or some other unidentifiable, unimaginable device to hack missile defense systems, sneak onto a secured area and then blow themselves to kingdom come the old-fashion way or control the autopilots of a half dozen jumbos... well you get the idea.
The fact that crazies couldn't maninpulate 'wave directly hadn't stopped them from buying or stealing already designed 'Wavium based tech to give a single nut job the ability to do things that would have taken millions of dollars and a huge organisation to pull off in the good old days. And then there was the disturbing fact that some of the worst terror types weren't insane or even raidated hatred at all - just amoral in their quest for power. And 'wavium had never shown much interest in morality(r there wouldn't be so many hentai fem around, after all), or laws (physics or otherwise) persay, other than not directly killing people... and nobody had ever needed 'wavium for that.
People responded like they usually do when they felt threatened and had required almost all goverments to restrict personal freedoms. 'Wavium had become a controlled substance almost overnight - outside of 'authorised use' and the fem likewise. Not that it bothered them, of course. Their culture had long since ceased being dependant on earth and they exported all sorts of luxury items to Earth - under strict controls and taxes of course. The Fem had found their own ways to control the crazies... Space Network's 'Sailor Senchi and other Super Heroes - Live' reality TV show series was very popular, which was ironic given the way Mundanes reacted to 'Wavium and those associated with it in RL.
One of the things the Fems had discovered as they continued to push the limits of the 'wave, was that the strength of the 'wave effect was directly proportional to how much focused intent was provided by the user. The clearer the users intent was the more likely the 'wave effect could be directed in the direction the user wanted. It was also affected by being exposed to the intent of others, how long it was exposed to a single intent and the concentration of 'wave. The higher the the ratio of 'wave to reality the more intense the effect.
Which is why I had spent the last year, sitting beside by my 'wave growth chamber for hours each day, talking to the 'wave as it grew to fill it's container. Radating my hopes and dreams into the pure, while insulating it from any stray influences...
...and now, I hauled myself painfully into the 'wave covered seat, gripped the slippery rims of the wheelchair that had been my faithful companion for half my life and closed my eyes.
*...Please...change...*

---
We walk now. What used to be my chair and enough wave to coat something many times larger than what we used to be, covers us in cloak of black and liquid alloy and 'wave. We can form anything we wish to our hands and bend the laws of physics by our will. And our 'wave grows, protecting us, inside us around us. We are one...
...although, I could wish that 'Wheels' didn't have such a evil sense of humor though.
Being a "Wave mage" isn't an easy ticket when your otherself has it's own ideas on how to do things...
...that's what 'Wheels' claims, anyway. Unfortunately for her, I agree... which gets me a slap everytime.
We wouldn't have it any other way.
We are whole.
-----
Just a different look on the idea of the Handwavium being applied to something more closely tied to a person than a vehicle but still a machine. If this disagrees with anything previously said - I didn't spot anything glaring but could be wrong. Feel free to incorporate or ammend any thing thats good or out of wack.
K'sai

[drakensis]

transferred
D for Drakensis

You're only young once, but immaturity is forever.

[ECSNorway]

---

...Come to think of it, Natalie and Stacy and the Dancer are likely known to, at the very least, ECSNorway's character - since they'd've been handling a large share of the back-and-forth runs between the asteroid mines and the surface, when that enterprise was first starting up... unless all of that was handled 'in house', as it were?

---

Oh, there's no doubt that we would've contracted out at least some of it, and probably needed the help for the first rock at the very least, not to mention getting the miners and their equipment into orbit.
The key item we provided, going in, thought, was the legal representation and contract with the 'dane-side mining companies willing to take a chance on it. If you consider the three-step plan...
1) Haul rocks into orbit
2) ???
3) PROFIT!
We worked our asses off on step 1 right alongside you, and filled in the blanks for step 2.
It's probably a regular business in later days, a few years down the road. Fannish prospectors find the rocks that are worth the effort, and get a finders' fee from the consortium of haulers that pulls them into orbit and handles the dickering with the mining companies. We take a commission on the hauling, and the profits end up getting split something like 70/15/15 between the mining company, us, and the discoverers. Then the hollowed-out rock belongs to its original discoverer, and they either take up residence, or we connect them with a buyer - and haul the rock to wherever the buyer wants it orbited.--
"I give you the beautiful... the talented... the tirelessly atomic-powered...
R!
DOROTHY!
WAYNERIGHT!
--
Sucrose Octanitrate.
Proof positive that with sufficient motivation, you can make anything explode.

[Sirrocco]

in re: the Wave Mage:
- Ooooh. Preeetty. Nicely done.
- I really, really like the idea of the wheelchair-bound guy who, with a *lot* of time, care, effort, passion, and so forth, fuses with his now-awakened wheelchair into a pretty much fully functional (though now obviously no longer fully human) whole - something of a cross between a Modified human and a 'waveship, with a few waveship-style abilities, and the corresponding qurks (though possibly not quite as many nor as strong - depends on the ability set.)
- The "make anything we want" aspect is...worrisome. Seems a tch overpowered Personally, I'd suggest a sort of freakish combination that combined a relatively *small* amount of the liquid metal with all of the (now mostly disassembled) powered wheelchair (with onboard computer). It would let you make anything that you could reasonably construct out of the pieces of a high-end motorized wheelchair, but not just *anything*.
- The "bend reality to our will" part is *really* worrisome. Is almost certainly overpowered. Personally, I'd suggest building him as a ship. He'd be about the smallest, lightest ship imaginable, so he could be zippy indeed. That whole "can't get out of the ship, ever - and really pretty noticeable in a crowd" thing pays for a number of quirk points, as well - perhaps enough for a pretty short-range ability to play with the local grav effects. Snag something like an Odd (but findable) Dietary Need, hook on a few more useful (and instantly handwaved) devices, and it should compare pretty well with the other stuff that will be out there at that time.
- You know, though, that as soon as he gets well known enough for someone to do a news spot on His Story, there are going to be folks all over trying variations on his theme (with varying degrees of success).
- If *I* were doing somethig like this, I'd have finished it up by eating the last bit of the handwavium. Also gives it a bit more finality. Not much, but a bit.
Also... Fen is a term for sci-fi fans. Specifically, it is the internal-use plural of "fan". Fem is a term for people (of either gender) who act strongly in ways generally thought of as "traditionally female" by the norms. Two different things.
Not that there *couldn't* be a Fem Black Market for handwavium, mind.
and...err... how does "earning a slap every time" work when she covers you? (minor, I know, but while I'm here.)

[Rieverre]

---

"But the costume's great! You look really really really like her! You should totally take part in the ..."
It happens every time, without fail. Somebody new gets involved in the cosplay section of a Con and tries to convince her to enter, thinking Maetel's in costume.
To my knowledge, she never has.
I gave a brief gesture from behind the fuku-ed bundle of bubbly enthusiasm that's pulled the short straw of asking her this time, and quirked an eyebrow in question.
Maetel shook her head.
Hmm. Alright. Nah.
I've had my share of distraction and misdirection for the hour, as tempting as the concept of raiding the back of the Warsies' stand and slotting Queen's 'Bicycle Race' into their PA is.
Stormtrooper armor may look imposing, and is even effective most of the time since all but a few have since 'gooped' theirs, but visibility through those helmets really sucks.
Besides, Trigon did that last year.
Well, luckily I subscribe to the waste not, want not way of thinking.
I walked up behind the Senshi - Prvt. 1st Class, judging from the pips on the edge of the rear ribbon. Such a nice rear ... ahem ... - and tapped on her shoulder in the middle of another sales pitch.
"Meep."
Or something in the direction. Alright, so to somebody around five foot five I can pretend to be imposing.
"Excuse me, miss. Are these yours?" I asked.
Whereupon I drew a pair that had drifted my way after the Pantsu Grenade had decompressed from inside my utility vest. Hmm. Black lace.
First she went "Eeeeek" then she went all red, only to finally snatch the panties from me and dash off into the crowd with a squee of "Pervert!"
I shrugged. Well, that had worked better than I'd expected it to.
"It wouldn't really feel right," she said as we walked down the promenade, away from the throng and in search of somepleace to get some decent food and drink. And no, for this one, Phobos' local Subway didn't really count. "Though maybe next time, I should go as my sister?"
I paused and blinked. Then smiled. "Sure, if you think you'll have fun with it."

---

-Griever
When tact is required, use brute force. When force is required, use greater force.
When the greatest force is required, use your head. Surprise is everything. - The Book of Cataclysm

[The Hunterminator]

Mmm... Warsies. I like it. I've kept trying to think of a quick and easy way to refer to them.

[M Fnord]

I should probably elaborate some more on the Convention, since the whole thing was my idea in the first place. So:
The Convention is fandom's big experiment with direct democracy. The vast majority of fen come from the western liberal social tradition, so they by and large don't automatically view government as a bad thing. (There are exceptions, such as the neo-Heinleinian & Discordian anarchist movements that haunt the Main Belt, but those are another story.) The problem is, fandom is spread out all over the solar system with only an intermittent FTL phone/internet system to keep it tied together.
The fractions provide a localized solution, but one that only works within the confines of their organization. Any attempt to expand, say, the Starfleet code over the entirety of fandom would be met with resistance by the other fractions. The fractions also can't provide a solid framework for the independents & other free agents who make up about half of the total population of Fenspace. So, the Convention was born.
The Convention was (ICly & OOCly) based loosely on Worldcon. Most folks think of Worldcon as the biggest SF-related party of the year, and they're right about that. What a lot of folks, particularly those who've never been to one, *don't* know is that Worldcon is also a major business occasion for the attendees. Worldcon plays host to the SFWA annual meeting (when the con's in the US) as well as voting for the Hugo Awards, providing attendees the chance to network with publishers, and so on.
When a Convention is called - usually once a year, time and place determined at the previous Convention - as much of fandom as can arrives at the designated area. There aren't a lot of places in Fenspace that can hold a quarter-million fans (and rising; between births and immigration Fenspace has a pretty respectable growth rate) which means that sometimes Conventions are held partly on the station and partly on a cloud of spaceships surrounding it.
(As a note for the current storyline: Phobos Station is on the list of places capable of holding the entire Nation at one go. And now back to our feature presentation.)
The first day of the Convention involves arrivals, sometimes opening ceremonies with the appropriate amount of bombast, drinking, dancing and networking. Nobody is expected to *work* opening day, since most folks are tired enough from the trip in. On the second day, once the hangovers have cleared, the actual work begins.
The next two to three days are filled with panel discussions. If you've *ever* been to a con, you know what this means. Panels at the Convention tend to feel a bit more like Senate committee hearings, though. This is where the initial groundwork in setting rules & regs is done. Evenings are generally like regular cons, with plenty of night activities for the general attendees.
Once all the panels have been concluded, all the information is carefully collated and sent to the organizers, who then spend a day or so transforming rants and raves into something resembling laws and government. This annual constitution (because that's really what it is) is then distributed to the masses for review before the vote. That usually takes another day or two.
Then, they vote. The vote is done by traditional means on the floor (usually by ballot, though sometimes voice if the measure's simple enough) and electronic means for attendees who can't fit onto the main floor. The votes are then tallied and the results read out to the membership. Another night of partying after the vote, and the fen wander back to their old lives.
The key thing to remember here is that whatever is voted on by a Convention is binding on all members of the Convention, which is why the Nation makes it such a big deal to get the entirety of fandom together each time. No major fraction avoids the Convention, and each enforces the rules enacted at the Convention. The alternative would split Fenspace, and (so far) the SMOFs have agreed that unity in the face of the 'danelaw is better than trying to go their own ways and being crushed.
Almost forgot. Worldcon has a thing called "non-attending memberships," which means even if you don't get to go, you still get to vote on the stuff open for membership vote. Since the Convention evolved from Worldcon, it has the same thing for non-attendees. Non-attending members only get to review & vote on the final document; they have no input. This cuts down on the number of fen and "fen" who think they can do whatever they want because "the government doesn't apply to me!" (It's kind of like an EULA; acceptance of the document means you accept the terms of the agreement, even if you never bother to read it. Sort of a dirty trick, but it does help establish Fenspace authority through the system.)

---

So, what does all this verbiage have to do with Haruhi's Convention?
Not so much, really.
Traditionally the Convention only comes together once a year, but there's a clause in the commonly-upheld constitution (not even fen are nutty enough to completely revise the entire body of law every year) that allows for a Convention "to be called by any group during a time of extreme crisis." The point of the clause was to provide for something like a wartime government; at the time the authors were worried that the mundanes might try to attack the fledgling Fenspace as a terrorist threat or somesuch.
Haruhi and her SOS Brigade are willfully - you might even say gleefully - abusing the crisis clause for their own benefit. This particular Convention was called to address a single initiative, under the logic that if a Convention agrees to the initiative, then it becomes fannish law.
What's the initiative?
I'll tell you once I figure it out.
In the meantime, it's all the party without the governing work.---
Mr. Fnord
http://fnord.sandwich.net/
http://www.jihad.net/
Mr. Fnord interdimensional man of mystery

FenWiki - Your One-Stop Shop for Fenspace Information

"I. Drink. Your. NERDRAGE!"

[Black Aeronaut]

Earth-to-Mars jaunts were commonplace for me. You'd be surprised how much money can be made ferrying packges, legal documents, and the occasional personage or two between the two planets.
Now, I wouldn't say that I was well endowed, but I do make a helluva lot more that I ever did on Earth. I can gladly say that my downtime spent at my 'residence' on The Island is comfortable.
That said, I like my line of work, and even enjoyed the occasional jaunt for personal reasons. This time for the 'Con. I could hardly wait see what was going on this time. In the meantime, Gina and I were thouroghly enjoying ourselves as we ducked and weaved through the steady stream of traffic bound from Earth to Mars.
People knew me, if not personally, then by reputation. Some saluted me as I passed in whatever means posible; winking lights, snap rolls, signal flares... Others ignored me. A few whom I'd made enemies of tried to take pot-shots at me. Yahright, see ya!
It was a fun four-hour run, but like all good things, it had to come to an end.
"Attention Phobos Control, This is Bullet Boy Express, requesting parking space for sedan-class Fen-craft."
"Like, yo! Bullet Boy. Ya clear. Sendin' ya data now. See ya lataz and have fun at the con."
I blinked at that. "Gina, was that a person or an AI we were talking to?"
"It was an AI, I think," she replied. "It'd make sense that they'd get one to help out with this much traffic coming in. Opening docking data now."
The folks at Phobos were pretty well on the ball as far as Fen went. The data consisted of not only the basic TOS guidelines and procedures, but directions to your dock/parking-space and navigational markers for those fortunate enough to be using a HUD. I didn't have a HUD myself, but I did have the next best thing.
"Okay then, Gina, stick it on Drvier's Side monitor," I said as I pulled down the LCD display. It flickered and presented the forward veiw outside, along with the Nav point markers and tagged out ships. Funny thing about it is that Gina had used the interface from the old Decent: Freespace game. Not that I complained - it certainly came in handy and I really did like the effect it gave.
A few more irritated Fen later, I had parked the Jetta in it's assigned space and took care of my parking, lodging and Con fees. I was quick to notice that the Sol Bianca was in one of the larger docking slips and smiled. It'd be good to see the Professor again, sleep deprived or not. Though, in this case, the former would be much prefered.

---

Black Aeronaut Technologies Group
Aerospace Solutions for the discerning spacer
"To the commissary we should go," Yoda declared firmly. "News
of this kind a danish requires."

---

[Valles]

I had done my girlfriendish duty and sat through the costume fitting. I had checked out the new anime releases and made my 'continue following' selections. I had blown two trips worth of spending cash at the book and model dealers'. I had duly heckled the pompous twits on the 'future of space opera' panel.
And now I was sitting curled up in the hallway while I waited for Stace to get out of the yaoi panel.
Meh. Call it cultural conditioning from my 'Dane days, but I just don't follow the appeal.
I was a few chapters in when she walked up and stood in front of me, just lurking in my peripheral vision rather than saying anything.
I looked up.
Slender and Japanese and rather disheveled, with light colored hair and eyes that had to've been the result of a Change. Despite what should've been a quite striking apprearance she seemed almost colorless, not like a ghost but something physical that had had all the life wrung out of it.
"Yes?" I asked, which was shorter than I'd usually've been, but I'm always cranky when I get interrupted.
"Nagato Yuki, SOS-dan. I need to speak with you privately."
Since about the only thing people knew about the calling group besides their name and the abysmal quality of their translators was that they'd called the Con, that was certainly enough to get my attention. The mystery of it was certainly worth looking at, and not even a fool would have tried to call a Con against schedule without both audacity and a plan... "All right," I said, and we adjourned to a small conference room, which she locked behind us.
Little Japanese girl and she's still taller than I am. Grr.
Then she turned to me and said, "I am a humanoid interface created by the Data Integration Thought Entitity to monitor the ongoing situation which resulted in the creation of the self-sustaining data pattern your civilisation refers to as 'Handwavium'."
Uh?
"Ten years ago an explosion in the complexity of altered data in the region of the Earth provoked considerable concern in the collective data intelligences occupying the galactic core. With effort, the focus of the changes was located as a single human individual, who was then monitored extensively to determine the nature and methodology of the connection. This investigation is still ongoing."
Uhhh... "'Altered data'?"
"Yes. Changes in the descriptives determining the properties and behavior of physicality and temporality."
Changes in... whoa. "Someone was hacking reality."
"The methodology of alteration remains unknown, but yes. Among the alterations induced by this factor is the existence of the Handwavium data pattern. Also among them are changes in the determinants of probabilities of technological advance and physio-biological evolution in the surrounding immediate spaces such to increase the probability of intersteller travel and interaction among corporeally bound entities, as well as direct the psychological and physiological nature of the resulting species." She paused and made some minute alteration in her posture or exression that was too subtle for me to pin down or interpret. "Many of the results have been benign. Others are extremely malignant."
In other words, Earth's immediate vicinity had been turned into a space opera. I left aside, for the moment, the question of her sanity and sincerity in favor of another question. "What's your angle?"
"It has been assessed that the greatest amount of data on the anomaly may be gathered by, in the vernacular, 'giving it its head' and permitting it to act according to its desires."
"And your focus is a member of the SOS-dan."
"Yes."
"Why tell me all this?"
"Your seniority in the fennish community and contacts with and in the National Air and Space Administration and Central Intelligence Agency of the United States of America make you among the individuals best suited to influencing the prexisting sociopolitical order of Terra to cooperate. I will be having similar conversations with other individuals of like qualifications."
Worry about how and all the rest later. For now... "What do you want me to do?"

---

Nagato hasn't mentioned the criminal syndicates, yet, and I actually do have a plan for where to go with this, but my sister needs the comp for schoolworks, so I'm gonna need to log off here.
Ja, -n

===============================================
"Puripuri puripuri... Bang!"

[Foxboy]

Despite my proclivity for lighter fare, I see Captain Corcoran as becoming hip-deep in Space Buccaneers {He refuses to call "real pirate-pirates" Pirates of any stripe} and the Spacebound Mafia, drug cartels, Yakuza and so forth.
Heck, I'm pretty sure the original owner of the Pinafore wants her back... especially since she's been so kindly upgraded for him....
''We don't just borrow words; on occasion, English has pursued other languages down alleyways to beat
them unconscious and rifle their pockets for new vocabulary.''

-- James Nicoll

[Rieverre]

---

"Do you ever wonder about destiny?"
I looked up from what was left of my serving of salmon in cream sauce.
We'd finally browsed past the less mobbed parts of the promenade, ending up in a place that I wouldn't have set foot in not a few years prior. The place could be described as 'pleasantly posh', with a balcony overlooking that section of the promenade and offering a more or less encompassing view of the festivities.
Like I said, wouldn't have set foot in, if it weren't for the fact that I apparently owned a quarter of it. Or that was what my investment counselor told me.
We'd been having a pleasant silence between us for most of the meal, when she'd sprung that question on me.
"Sure. Doesn't everybody? Though I mostly think it's something we're here to defy. More often than not I just don't care. Shrug, move on."
She laughed softly, nodding, then sipped her coffee.
Coffee?
Eeek. Bitter.
I winced. Did somebody switch our orders?
Possibly, since she was doing something along those lines as well.
We switched cups.
"I've always tended to believe in it. A sort of ... grander destination we are all travelling towards."
I sipped as Maetel spoke. Odd. This one seemed too sweet. I didn't mind that too much, but ...
"It's not necessarily wrong," I shrugged, frowning a bit at the passing moonlight. "Maybe the scope is a little bigger than I've ever bothered with. I'd like to believe in free will and making one's own choices and all that."
"Free Will," she cocked her head, her voice sounding oddly ... out of synch. "The condition of a human soul is perplexing, don't you think? The balance of light contrasted with darkness."
There was _something_ wrong with this picture, I thought as constellations floated up above and the smell of saltwater tickled my nostrils.
"There's no such thing as an absolute, when you really come down to it, I think," what the hell was that ringing in my ears, anyway? "Or maybe I'm just playing Trigon's advocate."
"Indeed, mirror image. Picture perfect. Subtly different from before," the sheer emotionless candor of the statement momentarily floored me, and I could hear the faint sound of china shattering on the floor. "Was your hair always gray?"
"What?" I replied, blood draining from my face as the vastness spun for a moment and then ...
"Katz? Is everything alright?"
I looked up from what was left of my serving of salmon in cream sauce.
My head felt ... odd. The closest I could compare it to was the feeling you get right after you wake up from having passed out. Sort of ... cottony and tingling.
There was a vague, fading recollection of something that I had ... been trying to hold onto?
...
I blinked.
The panorama of the promenade to my left, Fen milling about below, the ceiling in its Saturn configuration again, and everything else perfectly normal.
Maetel was kneeling beside me, one hand on my shoulder, giving me a concerned look with the most brilliantly green pair of eyes I'd ever seen.
I have no idea why I did what I did next, but apparently I didn't mess it up too badly.
Next I knew, I was pulling back, the palm of my hand still cupping on of her cheeks, and the voice of a waiter excusing himself for interrupting sounding from somewhere doorabouts.
"That was ... very pleasant," Maetel blushed faintly. "But why ...?"
A number of insanely inappropriate comments were momentarily shot and buried within my mind, because there was a time and place for that sort of thing, and this were neither one nor the other.
"I ... don't know? No. That's not really true," I said slowly. "But there was a moment there I was insanely grateful that you were you."
"Who else would you think I was?" She said, not accusing, but genuinely curious.
I shook my head in puzzlement. Why did I say that?
I knew it was true, but other than that realization, there was nothing _there_.
Well, whatever it was, it could wait.
"You're right, though. It was very pleasant. Shall we leave it at that for the moment?"
Which was when I found myself on the receiving end.
And, hell, could the girl kiss.

---

Ah, dream sequences. Or, in this case, daydream sequences. The stuff WTF? is made of.
Yes, Schrdinger has gray hair. He doesn't realize it, though. It's like a mental block. And since he's already been like that when going up in the Uncertainty for the first time, everybody thinks it's either a dye job, or that it's always been like that.
And yes, this has a point. Whether I'll ever get to it is another matter altogether.
-Griever
When tact is required, use brute force. When force is required, use greater force.
When the greatest force is required, use your head. Surprise is everything. - The Book of Cataclysm

[drakensis]

The Convention is sounding a lot more organised that I'd envisaged, not that that's a problem.
Would there be any problem with the previous or next to previous Convention having been held in Kandor (The Bottle City of Kandor, one of the major Fendom population centres on the Moon)? With the Treaty of Kandor-Con being a side-issue negotiated at the same time?
D for Drakensis

You're only young once, but immaturity is forever.

[Valles]

I mean, c'mon. Try and tell me that the word doesn't have all the right connotations for the NotPirates.

---

"But everybody does Tifa!" Stacy complained.
"Wouldn't that just mean she's obligatory to try at least once?" I tried.
"No!" she huffed. "Why are you so intent on this? You don't even like that game."
"Because, Stace, my dearest love, she wears real clothes. With, y'know, actual fabric and substance to them."
"I still have that Naga costume, you know," she threatened
"Tachibana Mizuki is fine," I said meekly, and we both laughed.
"But seriously, what's one you'd like? It's your turn."
I refrained from pointing out that my putting on a costume at all was entirely for her benefit, since she couldn't really wear her own work in public anymore. "Seriously? Fujimura Shizuru is cool."
She was standing behind me and putting my hair up to go under the wig, so I couldn't see her face, but she sounded like she was frowning thoughtfully. "Mm... Crazy brown-haired lesbian with a naginata and an orochi?"
"No, that's Fujino Shizuru, from Mai-Hime. I'm thinking of the black-haired robot pilot from Godannar."
"That's the one with the married couple and the flirty mechanics and the service-shot every thirty seconds?"
"That's the one."
"Mmmm," she hummed tunelessly as she put the last couple of pins in to hold the braid in place. "You'd want her uniform rather than the pilot suit, right? Shake."
"Yep." I snapped my head back and forth, trying to dislodge the arrangement. It didn't budge. "'S good."
"It's a deal," she said, and then came around in front of me with her hands full of yet more bobby pins and dropped the blonde wig on my head. I had to smile; she was cute any time, but the way she was trying to frame her view without dropping anything was hilarious, especially given how it contrasted with both the backless top that had started as a t-shirt with a Dawn of War Ork on it saying 'Oh! Fresh meat! I can make so many improvements!' and the Dr. Octopus effect as her other arms tugged the wig this way and that, trying to get it placed properly. "So?" she asked as she stepped in to put the pins in.
That knocked me out of my trance. "Huh?" I asked.
"You've been all frowning and thoughtful almost since we got here. What's on your mind?"
"I talked to one of the organisers, the SOS-dan."
"And?" she prompted teasingly.
I told her what Nagato had said, in as much detail as I could remember. Stace and I were partners in every sense of the word - she had to know before I could do anything.
"And you don't think she's just some crazy off the street, do you?"
I shook my head.
My girlfriend thought it over, not with the slight frown she got when she was just distracted over something but the blank, almost glassy look that happened when her full attention had gone elsewhere. After a couple of moments she came back to the real world and her eyes focused on mine. "Are the raiders really that bad?"
Our 'silent partner' paid their share in information, and I mostly read through it while Stace was doing the business paperwork. The rest of the time she was rarely bored enough to do more than glance over the summaries. "If anything they're worse. There've been more and more prospecting and ice miner outfits hit, and hit bad - wiped out, mostly. Hidden Asteroid has been keeping it close under their hat, but they lost the team they'd sent to investigate the raiding that'd been done around Jupiter. It's only a matter of time until they carry off a factory or something and then they're in serious business."
"They've been wrong before," she said, though not like she didn't think they were this time.
"They think, Pirates think, Asteroid thinks, Phobos thinks. These guys are organised and they're not just in it for the kicks. And there are signs, a lot of them, that 'Danelaw criminal organisations are mixed up in it up to their armpits."
"That's not good," she understated.

---

Being bounced.
Ta for now, -n

===============================================
"Puripuri puripuri... Bang!"

[Rieverre]

---

So, I was dancing down the promenade, singing and clapping my heels ...
... no.
Though I was in a pretty good mood. I dare you not to be when you've just ... hmm ... yeah, okay. At this stage, most people would likely be asking themselves 'But does it mean anything, or was it just a spur of the moment kinda deal?'
Me?
Expectations and overplanning never got me anything, so these days I usually tend to just take things one step at a time.
At least in these matters.
We'd gone back down to the promenade - or was that, Maetel had to prod me into it - and yeah, I had to admit that I was having fun mingling.
I'm willing to consider it the exception to the rule.
Socializing is more or less Scales' thing, where our little instigator group at Hermes is concerned. Hell, ever since the guacamole incident he's been responsible for making the Lounge Lizard deal look cool. That takes serious skill. In fact, he was likely somewhere in this mess right now, rubbing elbows and taking names and what you will.
Still, things were going pretty well, everything else considered.
There was a brief moment of unease when I went past the Fenbucks franchise - any coffee, any tea, any time, now featuring the Loon season special (green tea frappucino and carrot) - but that was soon forgotten.
Though I felt as though I was missing something as we walked, her arm hooked around mine - I swear, the woman has some sort of Induce Manners Area Effect Ability - which crystallized into certainty and realization a moment after.
Then Maetel spotted an acquaintance of ours, which wasn't all that hard seeing as he was making like Batman in heading up to the Hidden Asteroid stand, and proposed we head over. Apparently, she'd made friends with his 'puppy' back when the Express had been pulling it into orbit and wanted to see how it was doing.
I begged off, then nudged my head to the side and watched. The only sign was a slight twitch around the eyes, and her expression never changed, but she nodded and made her way towards where Mr.Morden, or whatever he was calling himself here and now, was doing his thing.
Myself?
I used the attention she took with her as she went to fade back.
I'm good at fading back.
Back behind where most of the Fen stood, looking for all the world like nothing at all was wrong and I was perfectly meant to slip just past that barrier and slightly behind that stand.
"Katsu-dono."
"You mangle that on purpose," I groused, then blinked.
Okay.
No.
I was having a good day.
This was not going to ruin it.
Nope.
I wouldn't let it.
It was likely just another bit of random sneakery, maybe some minor trade - for some reason, they like me better than Scales when it comes to making deals. Maybe because I'm more of a recluse and not as profilic.
I would studiously ignore the fact that Maki was kneeling and doing the forehead-to-floor thing.
"The Village would request your assistance."
"I could likely cobble up another couple of gravs in a few weeks, and ..."
"Katsu-dono. The Village would request your assistance in the _other_ matter."
Damn.
Okay. Flashback time.
Remember when I said that, if it didn't have to do with force-fields or things going boom in a spectacular manner, I usually handed things off to someone else?
Yeah.
Sometimes, I mess around with random available parts and physical principles. One of those times involved a mess of coil springs and several charged capacitators, as well as a soild iron slug. I've since improved, most notably during my last bit of R&R which I spent mostly in the Village.
Discretion isn't just a word with them. I got my research done, they got to reap some of the results. It isn't talked about. At all.
Both sides - meaning myself and Trigon, who'd actually been decent about things for once in his life, as well as the Village - had agreed to close the case. Official record said I was shoving some grav kitbashes off on them, which I did actually do.
Now they were bringing it up.
It was a quarter of an hour later that Maki melted back into the background of the background, and I faded out into the crowd edges, pasting on a faintly amused look.
I leaned back against the stand, startling the Fan who was doing business on that end of it, and looked up to the Village's stand.
The Hidden Asteroid wanted to gear up, and had good reason to.
Losing three Little Sisters - or how they termed their light border patrols - with all hands, making that a total of around twenty Shinobi and Kunoichi. Literally. Losing. No trace of them where they'd been supposed to have gone through, nobody has seen anything, nada.
I'd seen the specs on those, too - they were personalized, yeah, but they were all built around roughly the same hull design of kitbashed aircraft parts. Good, solid, reliable designs, despite being reliant on goop rather than Solid State 'wavium.
And two of them had been carrying my coilguns.
I wondered about the conversation Morden was having.

---

Gunsmith Katz, anyone?
-Griever
When tact is required, use brute force. When force is required, use greater force.
When the greatest force is required, use your head. Surprise is everything. - The Book of Cataclysm

[Sirrocco]

I would ask that the Haruhi content remain unverifiable. It's fine to maintain the *possibility* of it being true, and have some characters (even reasonable, rational characters) believe it totally (as long as there are also reasonable, rational characters who disagree with them) but if we ever get proof that this is something other than a girl who attracts crazy people, it suddenly stops being Fenspace (and, incidentally, original) and starts being a really strange Melancholy alt-uni fic. Personally, I like it better as an original universe than as fanfic. There's no good *reason* to make it fanfic - at least not that I see. Mind you, anything you can justify with handwavium is fine, and that cover's a *lot* - but time travel and "just created a hostile universe because I'm bored" are not on the list.