OCP (Ocular Chronicle Projection)

## **Prelude**

*The halls were high and its residents small. A staple of any civilization wishing to surpass their physical constraints, in the manner of achievement. The many pillars were decorated with intricate flowers, defoliating upwards against its marble support in a twirl from its floret bed. Small artificial canals were fashioned in the margins of the halls, delivering water to the natural ornaments and providing a soothing sound inside what was, effectively, an enclosed environment. The floor we found ourselves in was located many dozens of storeys high. Its dazzling view was only interrupted by my curiosity. My eyes were driven to gaze at the many artworks in the floor’s tile, the wall’s apertures and the ceiling’s sculptures; all depicting stories of the past, yet all reasoning enough aspects to mould them into details of the present. It would show the labour of the artist, the struggle of the builder and the reckoning of the thinker. Their surrounding environments resembling the many features of today: natural beauty, surrounded by the people who nourish it. Their traditions unwavering, even at the discovery of new cultures… even at my very presence amidst this echo of the past, they remain undim. And though the alluring colours and charming craftsmanship began to spark questions and theories amongst my thoughts, my task prevented their development. My movement was continuous, and my responsibilities other than meandering among artistry and its meaning.*

*It now occurred to me that the smell which had troubled my scent, ever since reaching this floor, was not natural to the many ornating plants or flowing water. The many vertical exits were shut and the air did not conjure speed or current. Upon a small table, however, was located a type of herb or flower which softly exhaled an almost translucent vapor. It had an orchid pink hue, yet the plant’s stem was brown and black, invoking the thought of poison or carnivorous verdure, with grey bulbs on its outside and small branches expanding outwards. I was able to locate another three of these plants within the confines of this inner balcony area, clearly intended to supply the chamber with these acrid fumes, their odours replying negatively with my sense of an amiable aroma, but managing to entail a soother mindset. My mind quickly raced to the thought of an hallucinogenic, strategically placed to thwart my efforts. But I quickly concluded that it would be too risky for my opponent to try such a move. Evidence of such an act would end in more than his disciplining… it may also reveal an untimely fate for his well preserved herbs.* *Our movement ceased, at the approach of an entrance. My **opponent** spoke:*

*‘*Await here a moment, if you will?*’*

*I did not speak a word, nor did I gesture in any manner of response to this outrage. The reply to his questions arrived in an affronting manner. My eyes delivered a red smoulder, frustrated at his attitude, but inevitably agreeing, only at the clause of there being no negation of his request. Only after his entrance did I perceive my attitude. I was content with the meaning I conveyed. The journey here had been long and time was wasted with unnecessary ceremony. The servants of the lower floors attempted to lull me with offerings of services and nourishment, even considering I had informed my opponent I had no wish for distractions. My exasperated gaze was there to remind him of this notion. An artistic local, bounteous servants, natural vista and soothing vapours. My requisition had either been ignored or opposed. My calm is already being tested, even though it is my belief that this was the opposite of my opponent’s intent. My breath was deep and long, with my eyes only shutting at the very end of my exhale, reopening to a more composed coldness. Thirteen seconds had passed, and again my mind raced towards the eloquent design in front of me. My thoughts were driven from disapproval to appraisal. The doors blocking my view into the room being just about the correct height for my entrance, with its weight not measured for containment or seclusion, but rather for ease of unfastening the entrance, whilst providing some privacy to the resident. It’s colour resembled that of refined and treated copper, but the metallic reflection was wrong, hinting at a layered material. I was able to witness my own reflection in it, even amongst the subtle engravings, neatly carved into the metal. It was done by the same artist as the one who had fashioned the previous crafts, that much was clear. The curves were levelled and the depth of the cut was uniform across all of his work, rivalling the efficacy of an autonomous machine. But such an artificial servant would not be found here, leaving me only to assume that the span of this artist’s skill was incessant.*

*The artisanship rotated, unveiling my opponent behind it. After I lowered my gaze to meet his height, his polite smile quickly faded back into a neutral aspect. Diplomacy would commence soon. He was aware of the upcoming challenge.*

*It was the first time we would meet in person, though I had exchanged words with him on a previous occasion. The transmission was short and objective, being performed during my transportation to this establishment, but it was enough to have a measure of my opponent. There was enough time for the review of his files, depicting his capabilities, interests, history, family and ethics. His clear disregard for my instruction of no intrusion upon my entrance succeeded in frustrating me. The artwork and architecture upon the various scenarios and artifices already engulfed me in curiosity. His own office, of which I’m entering now, was placed in an annex between the two great structures I had gazed from the outside, with it’s frame deriving of glass, jointed together by pressurized carbon, dazzling the magnificent view of the capital below, above and far into the horizon. It is his objective to possibly deflect my attention during our meeting, but it is also my directive to study and understand my opponent. And that entails me playing his game.*

*As the door was closed behind me by the host, my eyes would leer from object to object, then to the art and all in a gust of speed. An effort to decipher as much as possible before my opponent could perceive me attempting such an act. The floor was transparent, yet with a tint of colour. At a glance, it resembled some manner of quartz or crystal, edged and carved into each other in many geometrical forms abnormal to its natural shape. Circles, pentagons and triangles, with the margins of each piece so neatly carved to demonstrate a borderless connection between each junction of material. A darker carpet, however, would lay beneath each piece of furniture throughout the floor, clearly dividing each station from the view that lay below. Perhaps even a method to induce concentration upon those who would spend their days amidst this cylindrical structure of translucency, with only a rectangular floor laying a foundation to better adjust the levelling. A swift investment in the environment, so it may return in focus to the user’s purpose. Even I admit that it succeeds in its effect.*

*The other amenities across the room were all of exquisite material. In each corner lay a plant of a different species, possibly alien to this world even, raising their branches and growing its leaves in a delicate manner, contrasting its silhouette against the pearly wall of the supporting towers. Two were green, lush with flowers and fruit, whilst another was brown, with small red boughs emerging from its extremities and sap leaking from its stem, unveiling a delightful smell. The last plant had its trunk, stem and arms near black. The margins of the wood-like material emanating a turquoise colour, a probable and simple reflection from its luminescent leaves, which glowed the uncanny shade with gentle pulsating. Amidst the centre of the annex lay a collection of large armchairs, positioned in an half-moon shape in front of a large desk, facing said desk. The seats themselves were of fine garment inlaid with golden strings, engraved into the arms and back, all with the same dark grey and misty texture, large curvatures and volume create a dense area of available room, allowing the small to leisure at will and providing a sufficient seat for those of larger stature. The bureau also copied this colour scheme, but with a different nucleus material. One was of a wooded form, though the frame seemed of a reflective metal or simply bullion. Atop it layed several… ornaments, I shall name them, along with other utensils that may serve an ambassador, such as a data processor, a communication device, a projection lens, scribe pages and quill, as well as the mandatory component to any profession that may entail bureaucratic ploy: a simple mug, for a tasteful drink. Lastly, the seat, behind his desk. A follower of the same colouring and pattern as the rest of the room, but with one terminal fallacy. It had no arms to ease the burden of one’s limbs. An intent towards diligence, perhaps?*

*My opponent finally walked past me towards said seat. His passing silhouette cleared a perfect display of the capital behind him. Neither structure nor atmospherical event hindered the view. The height of the annex was rather perfect for the occasion too, as it positioned a middle point between the scale of the tallest buildings without removing the capability of seeing the lower streets, trees and architecture. Below and far, the people of this world travelled as if like ants to my eyes. The distance providing such an illusion. I was aware that, in the direction behind me was the great edifice of the **Elder King** - a structure known throughout the entire **Galaxy**. All knew of its gardens and its sentinels. Its extensions and libraries. Its meaning and importance. But my gaze, both through occasion and choice, were vectored towards the city northwards. The buildings of this civilization were artworks of engineering. Their interior structure, derived both of translucent glass and colourful design, was surrounded or sustained by encompassing white frameworks, who’s inclusion only added to the sense of art, resembling a natural aspect of life: leaves, waves or wind, their curvature was masterful and its texture disappeared when it’s visual edges touched that of the sky’s. The material so white, yet so reflective, it intertwined with the very clouds.*

*The buildings would vary in height, depending on their function and symbolism, though all had a similar foundation: a green grass field, stocked with trees and marble roads in between them. These people, unlike many others, place an emphasis within their means of transportation, in order to maintain the vehicles below the skyline… to preserve its natural beauty, regardless of it being a famous trade centre, where ships and cargo liners travel immense journeys to deliver goods and people. Not so much in recent days, of course. Perhaps they are thankful we provided surplus to their world’s natural beauty.*

*I looked back at my opponent. He had sat at his desk. His back straight, hands joined next to his waist. Shoulders calm, with a blank expression gazing at me, through weary eyes. He had noticed my examination of his people, my stance and the following of my eyes, as I watched a single ship, instead of many dozens, leaving the now idle port structures, who’s wealth and activity once surpassed that of **Ataros** itself. So blank was his stare, that after half a dozen seconds, I understood its intent. He wasn’t vengeful or hateful. He was waiting for his opponent.*

## **Chapter 1**

“Your **capital** is comparatively stale.” - *said **Zelevas**, with a heavy and deep voice, anchoring his body against his seat, to sit down. His large physique hindering the simple purpose of the object beneath him. To smaller creatures, this would resemble the provided comfort of any throne, but to the likes of **Zelevas**, where legs possessed an extra joint and superior size, the seat provided the bare essentials to comfort.*

“It is not my capital, but I am inclined to agree with such remark.” - *said **Ailuin**, with a refined and elegant voice. He began the sequence of actions to start his data processor, though his blank stare did not break contact with **Zelevas**’ eyes.*

“Given your awareness of the matter, I shall assume your ruling administration is striving towards its reversal.” - *presented **Zelevas**, finally stilling himself on the seat and look back at **Ailuin** with focused eyes.*

“We perform our best, with the liberties and resources provided to us.” - *countered **Ailuin*** - “The time where once we set our own limitations is long past us now.” - *he concluded*.

“My arrival here seeks to change such a state of affairs. The **Executive Council** desires a more direct update and set of analyses that better illustrate your current situation, be it in an economical, military or societal field of inputs.” - *stated **Zelevas**.*

“I was instructed to expect an ambassador, sir.” - *retorted **Ailuin*** - “Not a steward, a marshal nor a sociologist.”

“It was my directive to examine your file and motives. I assume you performed similar actions with my person?” - *asked **Zelevas***.

“Your file was impossible to access.” - *stated **Ailuin**, revealing his holographic screen. It present a window with **Zelevas**’ portrait upon it. To the right of this portrait lay a hulk of blurred text, a warning pulsating the word classified, in **Athalmari**, and requesting an input to unlock the information. Both ambassadors could vision this data.*

“Good. Utilize sequence 59-S7-94-30.” - *ordered **Zelevas**. **Ailuin** did so, inputting the sequence and unlocking his guest’s file, quickly glancing at possibly important information, whilst simultaneously continuing his dialogue.*

“As for your motives, I was only told that you are like any other of your kind.”

“Then your **king** informed you well. The Executive Council was informed of the ailing situation. I am to use my capabilities as an advisor and mediator between **Athalmar High Command** and the **Eldurasi** government.” - *he continued* - “I also bring orders, directed towards you. You are to accompany me during this endeavour, and assist in any way possible.” - *said **Zelevas**, standing and facing the clear visage behind him. His tone unchanged from his authoritarian voice. **Ailuin**, though both sitting down, looked up at him and said:*

“I’m afraid this is incapable of occurring. My orders are proclaimed by his majesty or the members of his administration.” - *interjected **Ailuin**. **Zelevas**, slowly turned his head over his right shoulder.*

“Your king no longer holds such privilege.” - *stated **Zelevas**, now facing the **Eldurasi** ambassador* - “A directive issued by the Executive Council surpasses Lorestaer’s rank. You are obligated to adhere to these instructions.” - *he proclaimed. **Ailuin’s** expression shifted slightly, making his annoyance visible for a mere glimpse. Not only had his lord been insulted by being addressed by his first name, but also by the arrogance and disregard displayed by both the Executive Council and its ambassador.*

“I shall adhere to your demands, though I shall inform and consult his majesty about this development, at a future time.” - *declared Ailuin, maintaining his calm and diplomatic voice over his defiant intent.*

“No boundary stands to prevent such action.” - *asserted **Zelevas**, noticing his underlying tone. **Ailuin** did not exhale in relief, though he relaxed his previously straightened back against his seat.*

“What data do you require from me, ambassador, at this moment?”

“An accurate census of this planet’s population. A ledger on the movement of civilian, military or any other type of personnel that has entered or left territorial space designated to this system.” - *he continued* - “Finally, Athalmar Command demands a direct link of communications with **High Admiral Galather**, in line with supplementing the **Imperial fleet’s** efforts.” - *declared **Zelevas**. **Ailuin** sighed.*

“A census is already provided to the Imperial fleet every seventh rotation. It is my recommendation to copy and deliver such a report to fulfil your requirements.” - *suggested **Ailuin**, maintaining a diplomatic elegance with his tone. This suggestion was berated by **Zelevas**’ commanding voice.*

“*Accurate* was apart of this demand, though perhaps it is possible that you misheard.” - *countered **Zelevas**.*

“I have not, sir. The reports we provide are legitimate.” - *declared **Ailuin***.

“I doubt this claim, as every new segment, illegal migrants and unregistered individuals are uncovered and arrested by both local and imperial law enforcement.” - *imposed **Zelevas** -* “Hence the emphasis on *accurate*.”

“I’m afraid that during the events of the past two years, the manpower of many an institution and facility has been depleted severely. We attempt in great effort to meet that which is demanded of us. I apologize if this is not enough.” - *said **Ailuin**, his vocal professionalism unbroken, though his expression seemed to dim.*

“I shall make a request for a shipment of artificial servants to supplement your administration, so this error may not be repeated.” - *informed **Zelevas**, with some reassurance in his voice, as he unfolded a glass like object, shaping it into a rectangle with curved edges, revealing a data processing system within its slender frame. Its input and information being visible to both ambassadors.*

“The current imperial presence is sufficient, ambassador **Thirium**.” - *assured **Ailuin***.

“I require results, ambassador **Holarel**, not your assurances.” - *stated **Zelevas**, with a calm and determined tone. He would not break eye contact with his device. Not until **Ailuin** spoke again.*

“This world is sacred, as proclaimed by our king, gods and ancestors.” - *declared **Ailuin**, respectfully standing from his seat.*

“Your declaration is invalid, ambassador.” - *responded **Zelevas**, with a callous voice* - “Religious interference was expected, though this does not make it tolerable. If your administration is in need of resources to accomplish your directives, then the empire is available to assist. Mechanical labour will reduce costs and heighten efficiency, contrary to your previous workforce.” - ***Zelevas** stated, heartlessly looking at the data within his device. **Ailuin’s** eyes dropped, his hands hidden behind his back and his head bowed slightly. His mood had been tested. **Zelevas** caught this act within his field of view* - “If you have input to add to my request, then do share. I had read you are capable of your station.” - *he remarked.*

“We currently possess more than half a dozen million vacancies in bureaucratic positions.” - *labelled **Ailuin***.

“The empire is capable of providing the majority of this order.” - *informed **Zelevas*** - ”If other sectors within the empire are relieved of necessity, perhaps we can procure more towards…”

“Imperial occupation already deforms stability within our society. The addition of these mechanical artifices will not contribute positively towards this effort” - *warned **Ailuin**, with a calm, yet alarming tone.*

“The need for their services outweighs your concerns. A properly staffed administration on site will provide the required results for further stabilization of your realm, beginning with the proper analytics of a census, without the hindrance of religious or moral dogmas.” - *coldly stated **Zelevas***.

“I ask that you try and respect these traditions.” - *presented **Ailuin**, walking next to **Zelevas** -* “I understand that **light years of distance separate our worlds**, and differentiating paths of thought were developed, but this does not exclude you from considering our position.”

“Religious tenets and traditional values do not build economies or track our path among the stars. Do tell, what could we, the **Athalmar** of **Ataros**, have learned from the moribund species that is the **Eldurasi** from **Eldarus**?” - *questioned **Zelevas**, still focused on his device, without thought or show of emotion.*

“Morality. Perhaps then, with such knowledge, the calculations your people made two years ago would’ve been *accurate*.” - *proclaimed **Ailuin**, with a professional stance, but fervent voice. **Zelevas** stopped his work. Without motion from his head, his sight met with **Ailuin’s** gaze. The Athalmar ambassador, realizing the defiant attitude of his host, lowered his device slowly. **Zelevas** took a short step forward. His red eyes looked down at the Eldurasi ambassador, with heartless wroth. His body remained in a perpetually professional posture, but his voice arrived with a deadly, slow maltreatment.*

“The **Scourge** was not a mishap. And our calculations were accurate.” - *he leaned slightly forward, his head now above **Ailuin’s*** - “10 billion lives. As **tribute**. To the **Empire**.”

*The room was silenced. **Zelevas**’ fist was clenched in anger at this defiance. But the Eldurasi caved. His head bowed and lowered in defeat. The Athalmar’s wroth quenched. Eerily, the capital’s beauty, remained equally silenced.*

Author's ending notes:

A tale of two ambassadors, who realise their roles as protagonists in our story. Hailing from different worlds (Ataros and Eldarus), both must perform their diplomatic roles, despite their deep disagreements.

Written and Created by: Friendly Doctor