[right][sub]([i]Addressing: [@Ekreture])[/i][/sub][/right] It's high noon. The desert air is sizzling, and the two cowboys are wiggling their fingers around their guns while the clock tick, tick, ticks. The duel is about to begin, and about to end. Only one walks out. Tick, tick, tick... Twelve o'clock! The first cowboy, who doesn't look much like a cowboy except for his hat, moves faster. His gun is drawn- trigger pulled- he gets the other one in the leg before he can dive away. He's standing over him now, pulling his best Clint Eastwood impression. His pistol is raised. "Partner, you've yee'd your last h-" A buzz goes off at the cowboy's hip. He looks down and frowns. It buzzes again. He frowns, but this time harder. Things in the Wild West aren't supposed to sound like that! (Well except for rattlesnakes, maybe.) It buzzes again, just to taunt him. Finally, Oligarch Tanaka quits the holo-program, his mood completely ruined, and checks his infopad. Three messages. Who's bothering him this late? Oh, he realizes. Savant Heralds is. A new ship has come through the Gateway, the infopad reads out. Early communications establish it as some kind of- [i]religious group[/i]. The young Oligarch doesn't need to have Heralds in front of him to know he wrote those words with disdain. And since Tanaka was the first one to speak to another Colony... "[i]You're being sent out to greet them[/i]," the message reads. "[i]You can take the same shuttle. Represent us well[/i]." A list of diplomatic instructions follow, but Tanaka knows them already. He's went over them seventeen times since his trip to Zelrio Corp. That one went so well, Tanaka isn't surprised Heralds is picking him again. At this rate, he'll be his right-hand man by next month! The not-cowboy whistles a tune as he heads out for his shuttle. [center][b]~~~~~~~~[/b][/center] [right][sub]([i]Addressing: [@Ekreture])[/i][/sub][/right] As he steers the shuttle up to the foreign ship, the Oligarch can't help but think [i]I wonder if they're like the Mixtists?[/i] They were the only real religious movement on New Hollywood in its 300 years of history, but from what Tanaka has been taught his whole life, they were insane. Always praying or singing, talking about things that can't be real- no wonder the Savant drove them out. They're supposed to still be living in the ruins these days. Like animals. It sounds terrible. If that's what religion is, hopefully these people won't bring any of it here. "Hail!," Tanaka sends to the new vessel. "I greet you on behalf of the Earth Cultural Union, a league of mankind dedicated to preserving the ways and forms of Old Earth." The new official greeting, as per this morning. Things are changing fast these days. It's a little scary. "I speak on behalf of our elected leader, Savant James Heralds," he goes on. "And I am his student, Oligarch Tanaka. We welcome you to our space, and to the lights and joys of New Hollywood!" [center][b]~~~~~~~~[/b][/center] [right][sub]([i]Addressing: [@Irredeemable])[/i][/sub][/right] "Ah, ah, you should find somewhere to go lay down- no, it's okay- yes, yes, I've got this. I'll talk to the aliens for you, sir, yes I will. It's okay..." Scientist onboard the Gateway Listening Post, Dr. Budi, is leading Oligarch Andrei off of the Holographic Suite. He'd smiled politely at Epsilon-Bouchet's joke, but within, felt more than a little embarrassed. Is this the best the ECU could present themselves? "I... apologize for my colleague's behavior," Dr. Budi says once his boss is gone. The holographic marble floor seems to flip upwards as he tries imitating the cyborg's bow. "Of course, it may not compare to your own modifications, but I myself have a prosthetic. You will come to realize that some in our society," by which he means the ECU, "are somewhat close-minded to such things. It's a by-product of our history. I ask you not to be offended."