10th January
17:53 GMT
A full Council meeting. Just one of those oddities, I suppose. Once a species has communications technology more advanced than simple radio, it becomes perfectly possible to conduct all business remotely. And yet, aside from a few cerebralists like the Rannians, nowhere does. The ancient meetings of clan chiefs morph into… Well, the meetings of clan chiefs with more sophisticated weapons and wearing more expensive clothes…
"…discovered that the claims made for centuries concerning…"
The point is, people get comfortable with their government looking a particular way. Earth legislatures still meet in big halls, even if not everywhere takes it to quite the extent that
the British do. Father still holds court, despite that being an institution introduced by Queen Heggra, who was far politically weaker than he is. Tamaran still has High Councils, where the great and good migrate to the capital for a month or so every decade to make the reigning monarch's life miserable.
"…handed down by the very…"
And Martians still gather in small stone amphitheatres. The ruling princes of each city, -including the new appointees who can't take their seats due to their cities being held by rebels- their seconds and the ambassadors who usually occupy these seats. A small raised dais for the coterie of first among equals who make up Mars' executive. J'emm now sits there, while the seat that
was his as the ruler of a city is occupied by S'yrra.
"…apparent by the ferocity with which White Martians with no prior…"
Another section for the priesthood, who if they were human I'm sure would be staring down their Abraham-figure with open hostility. A few more technologically sophisticate touches are noticeable; artificial lights bring the level of illumination up to something that doesn't strain the eyes, the stenographer is using modern Martian recording equipment rather than a stone tablet and the honour guard comprised of Red Martians have modern weapons.
"…very least, the abolition of all laws, global or local, which place formal restrictions upon the colour of those who can occupy them." I return to the present as T'ronn winds down. "And preferably, a radical reform of the functioning of those offices from which White -and Green- Martians have long been excluded."
"Thank you, T'ronn." J'emm is acting as Speaker, though I don't know whether that's a new thing or not. "I am however curious as to what you consider the alternative to be."
"The alternative?"
"Yes. What do you believe will happen if this council does not come to terms with you?"
"
I would keep working to persuade council members to change their positions, both as a body and as politicians with considerable authority over how their individual cities operate. But if this council absolutely refuses to negotiate, White Martians will begin to feel that there isn't a way for them to gain redress though peaceful means. It would.. probably push them towards joining up with people like B'enn B'lanx. It's not that the vast majority have any particular
desire to.. make the civil war worse, but… There's a widespread refusal to accept the status quo."
Status pre bellum, actually. If things stopped where they are
now, then the White cause will have seen significant progress. Several cities would be under their control, and a great many Whites who want their status improved but don't want to constantly fight local authorities would probably migrate to them. That would probably do
fascinating things to their economy…
"Thank you. Grayven." I focus my attention on J'emm. "You have our gratitude for making this meeting possible." I nod. "While you have explained it to me personally, please state your interest for the record."
"I hope to organise an exchange of knowledge and expertise between M'arzz and various other worlds, to the benefit of all. I do not believe that doing so is practical while there is a wide scale civil conflict happening, and I would very much like to offer aid in reaching a peaceful settlement. Ultimately, if this council is unwilling to negotiate, I have an uninhabited planet at my disposal upon which those Martians unwilling to accept the position Martian society offers them could settle as an alternative to warfare. Amenities would be a bit basic to begin with but no one profits from slaughter."
Or as a place for you to exile those who refuse to adapt to the novel idea that White Martians are people
too. I don't have to
like people in order to have
uses for them.
"A planet which you control?"
"It's in my gift." If only because no one
wants it. "Naturally, the precise relationship would be something I would negotiate with White community leaders."
"I will hope that it does not come to that, but you are right: it is preferable to war. And… Karmang."
Karmang spreads his hands. "I hope that my identity is not still in
doubt. If a clear view of my memories does not convince you then I am not sure what
will."
"You must be aware of the reverence which Martian society has for you. Why did you not attempt to make your displeasure known to previous generations?"
"I
did, at least twice. Let me show you the result." His eyes glow, and everyone in the chamber stills for a few moments. No, not completely. Karmang grows an extra pair of arms and makes a few gestures. Adding magical realism to the thing? No idea. Sinestro,
add those gestures to the log.
Certainly, Lantern Grayven. But aren't you concerned about that?
No, not really. It isn't doing a thing to
me, and there are… Sixteen Sorcerer Priests right there. This place is almost certainly warded-.
Karmang's hands are still moving, and the man himself is floating in a circuit around the chamber. Hm. I put my right hand on M'gann's left shoulder with a degree of force. She shakes, blinks and then look up at me.
"M'gann, what exactly is he showing you?"
"The…" She blinks as she returns to the present. "First… Journey he made to a monastery. When the priests had him beaten and thrown out for claiming to be himself."
"Hm."
"If you wanted to see it-."
"No, just a… Momentary flash of paranoia." One of the priests similarly shakes himself out of the trance, their arms shuddering in a way which appears to be involuntary. "What's wrong with him?"
"He's the Primate of the monastery Karmang went to; the Hall of H'ronmeer, named after the student of Karmang who established it."
…
My eyes widen, but I'm already flying towards Karmang.
Might be nothing-. "Karmang, could-?"
T'Pexor tackles me out of the air, shapeshifted spines
tearing into my armour!
FUCKFUCKINGFUCK! Construct blades shoot out of my environmental shield trying to rip through his body, but he just
ripples, either phasing or shapeshifting around-.
Gah! Some sort of energy beam from his eyes!
"Grayven?!"
Think you're clever, do you?!
Yellow light leaps between the tines embedded in his flesh, disrupting what I hope is a phasing-based defence.
"
Greghhuh!"
He's..
burning, I can see it, but-.
At the edge of my visual field I see every spectating martian jerk in their seats, their skin
shimmering-.
"My
first attempt to free us of the Guardians' influence!"
I
tear my right arm free of T'Pexor's barbed tentacle, my blood flowing freely as I grab his head and
squeeze!
"Turning the matter disruption aura on-"
His head
compresses, shapeshifting away from the area I'm compressing. I see M'gann fly at Karmang only for a spout of rock to rise out of the floor and grab her ankle!
"-without stabilising it. I call it-"
I try freeing my
left arm, and lose all feeling in it as the blades slice me to the bone!
"-H'ronmeer's Curse."
A construct blast from my eyes smashes through his
own energy beam and
finally forces him to loosen his grip. Sinestro,
contact Circe.
"
Now burn!"
Karmang and T'Pexor vanish as the Planetary Council burst into flame!