[center][color=9e0b0f][h1]The Midnight Technocracy[/h1][/color][/center]

It was a cool winter night and the Blood Tithe had just been collected. Now a hundred hands worked to label and sort the hundreds of vials by age, sex, location and health. Each sample was triple checked for purity and illness for quality before being neatly organized into containers and rows. To the Vampires of the Midnight Technocracy, it wasn't just enough to simply drink blood, they had to indulge in it. The blood samples would be later mixed and combined to form vintages, aged like wine and consumed as such as with their heightened senses, the vampires could make out the subtle tastes, the bloody aromas and the notes of life lived. One of several reasons that the Technocracy went out of its way to give its subjects an easy life is that they found over the decades that stress and environmental pollutants sour the blood of men in acrid and bitter ways.

Lord Director Vladimir Karamazov took regular sips of one such vintages from a crystal chalice as he read over reports in his underground chambers. The ceiling was high like an imposing cathedral and its supports were carved of marble, shaped into pillars depicting beautiful women wrapped in silks or clutching great swords. Each one took over a year to carve and most were made by Vladimir himself. Much of the decoration in his chambers were as was befitting a man of his status. Oil paintings, woven tapestries, scrimshaw, inked diagrams, hand carved wooden trinkets and ornate jewelry, all could be counted to have been made by his centuries old hands. Fascinating the amount of things one could accomplish when mundane mortal considerations like sleep went from "survival necessity" to "occasional idle luxury".

"Milord." A hunched man opened the expensive dark wood doors and strode down the fine crimson carpet towards Vlad's desk. He was a Wight, one of Vladimir's own distantly related relatives, sired about a century ago by one of his sister's children. His body was failing but the man refused to die. Years of gene therapy, surgery and cybernetic augmentation had prolonged his life to now where he even at age 120, he barely looked a day over 70. "I bring urgent news."

"What of it?" Vladimir did not look up from his work. A new geological survey discovered that a cavern once thought stable may indeed possibly collapse within the next century. From a mountain of detailed reports, the Lord Director was personally creating new building codes to ensure the stability of the cave system. It was a huge pain to have to unbury the Reanimated post cave in. "I am occupied Jergan, leave the report on my desk, I will attend to it shortly."

"Dear, you will want to see this." Vladimir looked up at the voice of his wife, Isolde, her pale, ethereal youth standing in stark contrast to the age of Jergan, "I took a look for it myself and it says that the the Gateway has reopened."

Vladimir looked up, "The Gateway has reopened? As Old Earth sent forth an envoy?"

"Nay, milord. So far nothing has come out of the Gateway. Adjunct Erend has already begun mobilization of a makeshift fleet to guard it and 300 additional Reanimated are being delivered to the neighboring station to bring it back up to capacity."

Vladimir rose from his plush chair and walked over to a terminal in front of a window that overlooked a vast underground personal archive the size of a stadium and two dozen feet sunken into the ground beneath the floor of the room. Below, unblinking, uniformed undead toiled endlessly to categorize and record all of the incoming data to fill even larger empty shelves. With the press of a few buttons, a DCI floated out of the terminal, its form incorporeal and flickering, and scoured the shelves of the archives for books and ledgers. As he waited, Vladimir combed his white hair with a comb as ancient as he was. It was a simple thing really and practically worthless; just a plastic black comb but with the sigil of the long dead Party emblazed upon one end. Vladimir had been one of the first researchers to imbibe the Void Blood, the comb was an eternal reminder of the masters he had once served in life, and whose power he now surpassed in unlife.

The ledgers that were delivered were some of the oldest in Vladimir's possession as they hadn't been written by himself. In fact, it was the Party's scribes who wrote the books. They were a guideline as for what to do if the Gateway ever reopened while the Party was in power. How to establish legitimacy, form diplomatic connections, first contact protocols, basic safety guidelines and how to make first impressions. Vlad felt that most of what was written was pandering fluff, meant to boost the egos of the Party leaders, but some kernels of value were located within. Isolde and Jergan waited patiently as only those unconcerned with age could as an hour past and Vlad read through volumes of books, constantly searching for another passage or requesting another reference until he had formulated a plan, written down upon several scrolls.

"Jergan, ready one of the Council's Starliner science ships, preferably one with wide panoramic views. Have it be retrofitted for diplomatic purposes, order your Reanimated to decorate it as if it was for a gala. Follow the insturctions outline in this scroll. Deliver this scroll to Adjuncts Remera and Iosph Kerdaal, their expertise in rhetoric and linguistics will prove invaluable in any first contact situation with the lost children of Earth. Have them ensure their Reanimated are well dressed and looking animated, we only have one first impressions."

"Of course milord." Jergan took the scrolls and with the snap of his fingers, a score of zombies appeared in the door way, parting away as he made his way out with his orders.

"Now as for you my dear..." Vladimir turned to his beloved wife and smiled, "I believe as leading citizens of Trifera and the Council, we are obliged to create a message for the Kerdaals to deliver to whoever they meet on their journey."

(If you want to have some opening inter actions, let me know and I will write something up and we can talk OOC).