Log:Guild - Expedition Prologue, Scene 4

Guild - Expedition Prologue 2016/03/29 	 Dorian Torus

4

This oval office has slate grey walls with pale gray accents and thick elbony deep pile carpeting covering the floor. An ornate Indian Rosewood desk with a rubber tree standing to one side and a small gunmetal gray wastebasket at the other presides over the room while a plush, supple black leather chair sits behind it and a few comfortable looking lounge seats sit across from it.

Close by, a small conference table surrounded by padded swivel-chairs stands ready. One wall is covered entirely by a grand bookcase, while another features a reinforced titanium filing cabinet and a trophy case, fitted into a third wall is a huge reinforced titanium gun safe, and the last wall is claimed by a humongous flatscreen plasma monitor.

Dorian(#2348POeACF?)

This man stands about five and a half feet tall, and is moderately good looking. He has blue eyes...brown hair cut into a crew cut, and a goatee.

He's currently wearing a standard regulation navy blue Starguard Gamma uniform with a grey inset stripe down the left side of the torso and a Starguard logo on the upper right side. The rank on the shoulder identifies him as a Commander. It's a far cry from his normal relatively casual mode of dress.

The Torus has been asked to meet with SG Gamma's commander, Dorian "Spirit" Perrault in his office. Dorian is working on some paperwork when he (it?) arrives.

The Torus arrives .0004 seconds early. Right on time by human standards.

Its silent arrival is marked by a sudden gust of wind in the Commander's office, caused by the sudden displacement of a bowling ball sized sphere of matter.

The sphere for once is not spinning, and covered with geometric shapes that are constantly shifting. The surface looks almost like black sand with random shapes appearing and disappearing with regular frequency.

Though these shapes never seem to repeat. Some of these shapes are well outside of 'normal geometry'.

A disembodied voice sounds out a few moments later, "Good afternoon, Commander."

Dorian sets his work aside. He had been briefed, so he doesn't jump at all. Though...his eyes glow solid bright white very briefly. He nods, "Welcome. I'm Commmander Perrault. I need to ask you a few questions. Basically, I need to determine if you are a security risk."

"I do not believe I understand the statement." The Torus says as the sphere silently drifts over one of the chairs and strangely begins looking like its evaporating-except the 'vapor' is falling towards the chair.

The 'precipitation' begins pooling up in the seat of the chair. The depression it leaves looks suspiciously like a human rearend.

"For what purpose would I violate your security? I already have ample access to your entire facility- with the exception of that beautiful questionite cube you keep. Where did your organization even acquire that much questionite? It is a wonder." The voice says as the percipitation continues.

Dorian sighs, "And that decision to allow you access was done by someone else. I'm determining now whether or not I should really consider you an ally. As for why you might violate security, I have no idea. That's part of what I need to find out. I know very little about you." He taps the desk in front of him as he thinks. "Explain to me why you're here, exactly. And what or who you are."

The Torus ponders a moment- well relatively a few lifetimes. A second later its bodyless voice rings, "It is not your security I wish to violate." It considers leaving it at that, but it extrapolates that this would likely not get it the information it seeks.

"This 'Guild' has done mankind irrepairable harm. I seek to restore Humanity's Birthright before more is lost to your children and their children and their children's children." it says as the percipitation rains down thighs.

The excess particulate matter slides further down the growing leg before locking into position near the knee.

A waistline begins making itself appearant as well as it continues.

"As for what I am- that is complex. I do not consider myself the sum of my titles, or even my body. But I mean you, nor any being harm. I believe the word you use is pacifist. Beyond that, I am a Child of Man."

Dorian nods slowly, "So you have a problem with the Guild? Or with the cartel that pretended to be the Guild?"

"I have issue with any organization that would bar your people from the stars. Those that would inhibit the growth of man's knowledge and reach." The voice says instantly. Though the milliseconds between the Torus had plenty of time to process and come up with a suitable answer- one backed up by its historical records.

"Somehow your people were never told to be wary of those who would deny you access to information. But I know this well- in their hearts, they dream themselves your master." Its voice- though alien is resolute, sure of itself and its position. "Your history is full of such efforts. The fact that it were permitted upon this whole world is a very questionable decision. I have broken no law here or anywhere- but I will not keep this treaty, nor am I subject to its regulation."

Dorian raises a brow. "Which treaty are you referring to, exactly? We've had little contact with the Guild proper. I'm planning a manned mission to set up diplomatic ties with them."

Sometimes, The Torus gets a head of itself. Having the accumulated knowledge of all mankind for 1000 years is a bit of a burden, even with a computer with the processing power of a mid-sized planet or small inhabited moon.

So sometimes the decimal point slides the wrong way and the dates of treaties might get mixed up with the dates of manned missions to begin diplomatic relations. Sometimes.

"Perhaps I mispoke.

My systems define 'treaty' as: a formal agreement between two or more states in reference to peace, alliance, commerce, or other international relations.

I mean the agreement for Man, and all its Children to be restricted from further space travel." It corrects as it crosses legs still forming. Its almost eerie. Like pants without a person, crossing their legs on their own.

As it grows the process speeds up and it becomes clear that though humanoid- this shape will dwarf a modern man.

The waistline grows as a proper abdomen is rained down upon it.

Details like musculature & bone structure seem to appear as if shaken from the material the way one might shake away a drawing on an etch-a-sketch.

Dorian nods. "There certainly was a concerted effort to keep us contained. There's quite a bit of evidence of that. That's the cartel I was referring to. The current belief is that the Guild itself isn't as much of an issue. There are other empires that we need to concern ourselves with as well, and we've had some contact with them." He rubs his chin, "It sounds like your goals are similar to ours. Or at least not in conflict with them, yet.

"I find that containment to be the antithesis of my ethos." The Torus says, as arms and shoulders shape up.

As soon as they do, its clear that The Torus- in humanoid form, speaks with its hands- emphatically.

Its shoulders are broad, its 'body' muscular but lean.

Those with an eye for art would recognize the beauty & definition found in Auguste Rodin's The Thinker & Michaelangelo's David hewn from the mysterious metal of The Torus' form.

"If your goal is to restore Mankind's Inalienable Rights- then you will find no foe here..." It says, as the neck and lower jaw are shaped.

The mouth moves in time despite the voice not being directly connected. "Only a friend who might escort you and defend you and yours, Commander Dorian Perrault."

Dorian nods again, considering his options. "Alright. I don't think you're a risk, as far as I can tell. My intuition is usually pretty good in matters like this." He pauses a moment, "Do you have an interest in going on that diplomatic mission that I mentioned?"

Ears, nose and cheekbones are next to shape, mysteriously as it rises above where a man's eyes might be- the surface is smooth, as if the forehead had overgrown its eyesockets.

Beyond the lack of eyes (and when The Torus stands genitalia) it is completely human shaped- though still black as the mysterious questionite vault within the base.

Its body now pver 7 ft tall, its knees are well above the surface of the chair cushion.

If it were a biological organism it might be uncomfortable. Instead it just removes the excess material so it might 'fit' the shape of the chair without breaking it.

"I am most interested in attending this historic event, Commander Dorian Perrault." Its hands grasping the armrests excitedly.

Dorian nods. "You're welcome to come along. The only requirements that I have are as follows: When you're here in this base, or on that trip, you'll answer to me. Is that acceptable?"

The Torus pauses as it processes this statement and consults historical records, namely those on Commander Dorian "Spirit" Perrault. Dorian should be able to see this- though it is very quick. The surface of the Torus always seems to be in motion, even when he can't see the motion its there- almost perceptable beneath the surface. But as it processes it freezes completely, like a statue.

After finding his records acceptable, The Torus nods and says "I can accept those precautions & in return for communications access as well as one caveat- I would like to remain as... inconspicious as possible in all of my activites- even the official ones. While I admit I am still learning of the best ways to go about this- it is imperative to keeping my own goals on target.

As such, I would like to meet your away team in orbit, and integrate myself into an away team member's equipment."

Its tone is serious, almost a warning really. There is something behind those statements and while it doesn't come off as a threat, it is definitely a precautionary statement.

Dorian nods. "That's acceptable. There's something you're not telling me, though. Is there something or someone you want to avoid?"

"I would prefer to keep historical data of my existence and function to the bare minimum. If at all possible kept at zero.

Though there is one notable heroine I would prefer to stay well away from- that is one Allison Temple also known as Interface." The Torus says in response. Oddly enough, it doesn't seem like he's keeping anything to himself when he speaks of Interface. Though its clear the specifics of why it wishes to remain outside of the historical record won't be coming to light anytime soon.

Dorian nods, "Why do you want to avoid Interface?"

"I am uncertain- but I believe that she has become ... unhinged where I am concerned." The Titanic Promethean says.

"Her interference may be due to the fact that many believe I am from the future. Or from the past & thus capable of travel throughout. This is untrue. But it makes many hungry for the power that might bestow, though in Ms. Temple's case, I believe it is the not knowing that has driven her keen mind into some kind of rivalry. This was never my intention. In fact- I thought of anyone of this era of human development, she would be my most forthright and upstanding comrade in intellectual arms. But alas- this was not so."

Its tone is almost remorseful, as if its feelings really were hurt by Allison's dislike of it.

Dorian nods again slowly, "Well, perhaps she will change her mind, given time. So to speak."

"Perhaps, Commander Dorian 'Spirit' Perrault. But as your people say, 'I won't hold my breath' though I do not breathe." The Promethean says.

"So how is it that you maintain contact with your subordinates?" The Torus wonders aloud.

Dorian says, "I don't actually have to breathe either, so you're in good company. I'm techinically not human any longer. I'm an energy being. We use radio communications for the most part."

"Interesting..." The Promethean says, "I have met few energy beings of Earthly Origin."

Dorian might recognize quantum vortex energy being emmited from deep within The Torus.

Really it is scanning Dorian for more information with its own HRRP.

"If you do not need to breathe, perhaps we can take this meeting elsewhere- as you might guess, offices are not my preferred venue for... well for anything really. So barbaric and restrictive.

A new partnership demands somewhere a bit more majestic, yes? I believe at this time Saturn is rising over Enceladus. I am told it is quite the sight." It says.

Dorian chuckles. "I would...but I have more paperwork to do, unfortunately."

"Another thing I will never understand about this civilization- your preoccupation with paperwork when their is ample artificial intelligence to take care of such minor inconvienences." The Promethean says.

"Well I will leave the invitation open, though I note- Saturn's rise was merely a suggestion. There are many places in the Milky Way you might like to see. Perhaps you'll come up with something before our next meeting.

Since you are not a man of flesh and bone- I suggest 'The Red Jewel- a red dwarf surrounded by the dead cores of its siblings. These cores are all essentially made of diamond. I am told it makes for quite an experience." The Promethean says as it stands.

"I believe all I am lacking is a communicator so I might be alerted as the mission to the Guild progresses." It adds.

Dorian nods, "If you can access the radio bands, I can give you the frequencies. Or if you need a communicator, I can provide one."

"I am recording all electromagnetic radiation. You may supply your databurst at any time." The Titanic Promethean says. It would seem he's expecting Dorian to emit the energies necessary. Is it testing his abilities? Why not just a readout?

Who knows?

Dorian chuckles and pulls out a communicator from a drawer. "Match this."

"Actually- is this the same model your away team leader will be using en route to The Guild rendevous?" It asks as its giant hand reaches out for the communicator.

Dorian nods. "Most likely, yes."

"I believe we have found how I can accompany your away team without raising suspicion" The disembodied voice says as a portal opens up and washes over the The Promethean, still reaching for the device.

Just as it touches the device in Spirits hand, the portal rolls down its arm, eating up the material as it passes.

The portal eats the finger touching the device and on the other side, a black carbon copy of it hovers there.

The Torus' voice goes over the comms line. "I believe this will work. I can duplicate 100% of the functions of this device."

Dorian raises a brow as he watches the process. "Interesting. Well, I think that will work."

"Well, I believe you made a wise choice here today Commander Dorian 'Spirit' Perrault. And this mission to The Guild- I suspect history will look at that kindly as well." The disembodied voice says as the black communicator continues to hover just in front of the Commanader.

Dorian smiles. "Well, we shall see. I'm still batting a thousand so far based on my gut. I hope it remains that way. Thank you for meeting with me."

"Thank you, Commander Dorian 'Spirit' Perrault. I look forward to working with you and your organization." The voice says as the communciator begins spinning.

A keen eye would see the device melting and falling victim to centrifigal force.

It flattens into a disk before slowing its spin. Then as if an invisible hand crushed it, it compresses down into a small pea sized sphere before vanishing.