Record:Grand Council Meetings
More actions
Select transcripts from weekly meetings between the T'vaqi Grand Council.
[Grand Magisters V'sha, Q'so, and Pili gather in a triangular office for a routine weekly meeting. V'sha and Pili sit in their respective chairs, but Q'so elects to remain standing, pacing around his seat.]
V'sha: Q'so, if you could sit down, please.
Q'so: I don't see why I have to.
Pili: Well, it's more of a formality. Helps... keep the group cohesive.
[Q'so sits down on the arm of his chair. V'sha frowns.]
V'sha: Well then. The meeting commences now. We will maintain civil and relevant discussion regarding government matter for one hour at minimum, more if—
Q'so: Do you really have to say that every damn time?
Pili: Again, it's more of a formality. And please keep rude language to a minimum. Civil and relevant, remember.
[Silence. Pili shuffles uncomfortably in his seat.]
V'sha: If anyone would like to raise a discussion topic, please do so now.
Q'so: Actually, I do have one. When are we going to stop being cowards?
V'sha: I do not grasp your meaning.
Q'so: And that's what I don't get. You've been here the longest, Dimasi. You saw both of your partners die in the span of less than a year. Are you not worried about your own safety?
V'sha: The deaths of Voti and Ila were unfortunate, but I cannot attribute them to anything more than coincidence. There is nothing that indicates I am in any present or future danger as of now.
Q'so: Bullshit. Ila dropped dead from some unknown, unpreventable, probably fatal disease from who-knows-where. Voti got a bullet to the head after the Modhesian Army started following him during their pathetic terror campaign. You know what the common denominator is?
V'sha: I believe you are insinuating that deliberate foreign involvement is at play, but I would strongly urge you to reconsider.
Q'so: So at least your CC Score wasn't faked. You're smart enough to figure that out.
Pili: I would refrain from spreading false rumors about fellow Grand Magisters—
Q'so: Oh shut your damn mouth, Pili! What the hell do you know? You've been here three goddamn months! Someone like you—
[Long silence. Pili opens his mouth to speak, then hesitates and decides against it.]
V'sha: I will provide a topic, if nobody else wishes to. What is to be done with the miner population regarding emigration in the wake of the Silicon Rebellion?
Q'so: I don't care if they emigrate or what. Anyone with enough CC to walk on two legs is smart enough to know that joining the military is better than slaving away in the mines. And the military is exactly where we want them.
Pili: Mining labor is the backbone of our economy. We cannot simply ignore their population dwindling, especially in the wake of a rebellion.
Q'so: Havata, Pili, are you blind? We're in danger. This nation is in danger. V'sha made the idiotic decision to open communications with everyone else when we had no army to speak of. We might as well be holding a big sign with the words “attack me” on it. They might seem friendly on your precious IGRS, but they're subtle. And you know the most subtle way to collapse a government?
V'sha: Q'so, please reconsider your viewpoint—
Q'so: You take it down from the inside. Two Grand Magisters dead, terrorists bombing the streets, economy one mistake away from crumbling. We need to strike first. The miners are a lost cause. I want every citizen old enough to carry a gun and dumb enough to use it to join the army.
V'sha: This is madness. You are clearly unwell. I urge you to rest and reevaluate your proposal, and you will find that it is most unreasonable.
Pili: I'm inclined to agree with V'sha.
Q'so: Damn you all. Voti was the only one with any goddamn sense.
[Q'so storms out of the meeting hall. Pili reclines in his seat. V'sha glances at a clock.]
V'sha: It would appear we have nine tenths of required discussion time remaining.
[Grand Magister Adisa Aram sits impatiently in one of three chairs in a triangular room. She glances at a clock. Both of her colleagues are late.]
Aram: [mumbling to self] All the time in the world, it would seem...
[Grand Magister Insi Q'so shuffles in, slumping into his chair.]
Aram: Good morning, Q'so. I trust you plan to be of constructive influence today.
Q'so: Something like that.
[Grand Magister Loqa Pili strides into the room, carrying a shiny silver platter. Atop the platter are six bite-sized pieces of seasoned raw fish. He sits down in his chair, keeping the platter perfectly parallel to the ground.]
Pili: Good morning. Before the meeting commences, I brought in a small treat for you all. Cured Utlian carp. Wonderfish, they call it. Imported straight from the source, seasoned with the finest Okriti spices. And let's not forget the platter, of course, pure silver mined in the heart of La Rossa. A multicultural plate.
Aram: [sigh] The meeting commences now. We will maintain civil and relevant discussion regarding government matter for one hour at minimum, more if required. Now Pili, do please tell us the point you intend to illustrate with your plate of fish.
Pili: Why of course. I am a man of trade, of negotiation. A dealmaker. I make things happen, Adisa. This platter and its contents are composed of some of the Archipelago's finest exports.
Q'so: Get to the point.
Pili: I did not expect you to be impressed. This was my intention, of course. This arrangement of cured meats and spices is an unnecessary luxury. I may be the last person you expect would say this, but it is true. We were self-sufficient before the Calming. Years ago we stood on the precipice of unprecedented technological development. Now we spend much of our valuable money on pointless imports such as these. I propose we at least earn back a portion of our revenue.
Q'so: [mumbling] Goddamn linguists.
Aram: Increasing tariffs? Do you wish to break every link we have made so far? You have already made enemies with the Rossans. You are lucky Moretti suffered that stroke, or he would have had your head on a pike by now. Metaphorically.
Pili: It's simple math, Adisa. We continue to export our fine technologies to the primitive nations with no competition. We reduce our imports and make more money back where we can. We earn a net profit, one great enough to fund our ventures for years on end.
Aram: Is this all you care to think about? The rustle of the bill?
Pili: Civil and relevant, please, Adisa.
Aram: Hm.
Q'so: I, for one, can agree with Pili's plan.
[Aram remains silent for a few moments. Pili sets the platter down on the arm of his chair. Q'so sinks into his seat.]
Aram: Q'so, do please join the conversation if you wish. In fact, I have a question to ask of you. When will you do your job as Representative Speaker?
Q'so: I don't see what you mean.
Aram: It has been months, now. Not a single radio communication from our island has been transmitted on the special frequency since V'sha's retirement. The other leaders are becoming skeptical. Friendly interaction can greatly improve our public image.
Q'so: If you knew what I knew you'd avoid them too.
Aram: Nonsense. Have you been acting this way because of the divorce? Q'so, it's been over two years—
Q'so: Did I mention the goddamn divorce?
Aram: No.
Q'so: Then don't bring it up.
Pili: V'sha is long gone, Adisa. Likely enjoying the sunrise sipping a drink as we speak. Q'so may represent our nation as he sees fit, without needless external influence.
Aram: Is this what we are as a nation, then? You wish to meddle in foreign affairs as much as you please without any consequences. We cannot play the mastermind, Pili. Despite what you may believe, we are eclipsed on a grand scale by the others. One misstep could cause an armed conflict or worse.
Q'so: Our military is more than capable. I've seen to it.
Pili: You may not like it, Adisa, but this is our only option if we wish to expand and develop. We will transcend self-sufficiency. Progress will be made mandatory once again.
Aram: Refer to me by my last name from now on, Pili. I will wait here silently until you approach me with a different solution. Our integrity will be preserved. This is final.
[Nobody speaks. Aram stares at the clock. Q'so drifts off. The platter remains untouched.]
[Meeting Room, Grand Council Hall, Ishiq, T'vaqi, Attu Archipelago. Early morning sunlight filters into the triangular space through a window atop the roof. Grand Magisters Adisa Aram, Piqo Thipoqo, and Havo T'l sit in contemplation until Aram breaks the silence.]
Aram: Let's get this over with. The meeting commences now. We will maintain civil and relevant—
Thipoqo: Could I say it this time?
Aram: [Sigh] I suppose you could.
Thipoqo: The meeting commences now! We will maintain civil and relevant discussion regarding government matter for one hour at minimum, more if required.
[Thipoqo appears greatly satisfied, a wide smile on his face. It fades as the meeting room returns to silence.]
T'l: Okay. Nobody has anything to say.
Aram: I hate to sound like a Deysachni, but things really have been quiet here since the Tricade War. Relatively, at least. I suppose that's a good thing.
T'l: Yes, Aram, we know, the Tricade War happened. We were all there for it. It ended a whole eight years ago, so it could do us some good to shove it into the history curriculum where it belongs.
Aram: I know I've repeated a lot about it. That's why I said I hated to sound like a Deysachni.
Thipoqo: What?
Aram: You know, they tend to reiterate things… and they're also warmongers, of course.
Thipoqo: Well, Adisa, I hope you know that's highly offensive. I thought you were better than this.
T'l: [Smirking] She meets a single Deysachni with a stutter and that's the only thing she takes away from it. Sounds like Adisa to me.
Aram: Shut your mouth, T'l, and call me Aram the next time you open it. The only reason people knew who you were before your election was because you called Marone a Tolio.
Thipoqo: You can't just say Tolio!
T'l: Oh, and you can?
Thipoqo: I'm the one who lived in La Rossa. I spent a month living among them and all the wonderful elements of their culture. I am more entitled than anyone in this room to say Tolio.
Aram: That doesn't make sense. It's a slur and it's only said here.
T'l: You may want to take note of how I'm the only one in this conversation yet to say it.
Aram: Listen, Thipoqo, if it bothers you that much we can put a ban on the term in our meetings. Maybe even place some national restrictions on it. We're lacking in anti-discrimination law.
Thipoqo: That would be terrific, yes. Good work, everyone! One bill proposal drafted already!
T'l: And I'm sure that trend will continue.
Aram: Quit the sarcasm. I don't care for your jokes.
T'l: You sounded almost exactly like Pili there. He said that during our last meeting.
Aram: Now you sound like a Deysachni. You mention that meeting damn near every time you breathe.
Thipoqo: Okay, okay! What did we just discuss about the "Deysachni" remark? It's unlike you to be this stubborn, Adisa.
Aram: Aram. Please just call me Aram. It's not that hard.
T'l: Not until you learn from your heinous crime of calling me "Deysachni".
Aram: You two are harder to work with than Q'so.
T'l: You're as hardheaded as V'sha.
Aram: Don't insult him. I wouldn't have been elected without V'sha, you know.
[A prolonged silence.]
Thipoqo: You… wouldn't have been elected without V'sha?
T'l: And to think of what could have been…
Aram: He, ah, was like a mentor to me during my campaigning. When the numbers were uncertain, he gave me the, ah… confidence to continue.
Thipoqo: [Mumbling] You won in a landslide…
Aram: I appreciate that the discussion has become civil, but we must also make it relevant. Let's, ah, return to anti-discrimination. Does anyone—
T'l: Or we could talk about real issues. Things like rampant substance abuse and the crime that follows. The No-brains are abusing N'shoqala, I'm sure of it. We need a crackdown on that damn flower.
Thipoqo: N'shoqala is a painkiller, right?
T'l: No, it's a hallucinogen. It only takes a pinch of the active compound to kill a man. You start to shake, then you start to sweat, then you get violent. One man overdoses, two men die. I've seen it happen.
[Thipoqo's eyebrows raise a notch at the last statement.]
Aram: To be honest, I thought we barely knew anything of the substance. Our researchers can never get a hold on it, and the Vritona laboratories are hardly funded enough to care.
T'l: That's exactly why it's so dangerous. The public knows nothing about it. You could slip a lethal dose in someone's drink completely undetected.
[An uncomfortable break in the conversation.]
Thipoqo: Now might be a bad time to offer some tea.
Aram: I'll have a cup. Thank you.
T'l: No tea for me. You never know what could be in there.
Thipoqo: [Nervous chuckle] Ah, you know the N'shoqala best, of course.
Thipoqo: [Mumbling] Yes, you do know the drug very well…
[Thipoqo leaves and returns with tea, and the meeting continues uneventfully. No more bills are drafted. By the end of the session, the sky has become clouded over, bringing lukewarm darkness to the room. Aram and T'l exit while Thipoqo lingers in his seat.]
[After some time, Thipoqo retrieves a portable radio from a robe pocket. He contacts the Grand Mortuary and requests the official report on Loqa Pili's death.]
[After placing the request, he does not put the radio down. His forehead is creased in thought.]
[Thipoqo contacts the frequency of Dimasi V'sha.]
Thipoqo: This is Piqo. I'd like to speak to you in person, V'sha.
[Uncomfortably early in the morning. An ordinary weekly meeting is scheduled on this day, in a sqov or two. A public speech from the Grand Council is to take place after. T'tathos Mhodir and Havo T'l prepare themselves for their announcement.]
T'l: Okay. Let's go over this again.
Mhodir: We have records of Thipoqo's trip to Vritona. Toxicology reports from Pili's body. Nothing explicitly false, but there's some omission. Hopefully subtle enough to go unnoticed.
T'l: And motive?
Mhodir: Thipoqo and Pili clearly didn't agree on… most things. Thipoqo's bills tended to get struck down much more frequently before Pili died.
T'l: This is all rigged up for the screen?
Mhodir: Broadcasters are in on it. Got audio descriptions of the evidence as well. I made sure they used the word "incriminating" as often as they could.
T'l: Sorta funny, actually. I'm starting to believe the story myself.
Mhodir: Good.
[In a nearby hallway, Piqo Thipoqo strides towards the meeting room, a wide smile on his face.]
[Mhodir leaves T'l, intercepting Thipoqo on his way.]
Thipoqo: Big day today! You need to go over things again, Mhodir?
Mhodir: No, I'm quite fine. We don't need a script. T'l did the crime, after all.
Thipoqo: Good attitude. Oh, and I checked with the broadcasters! Everything's all set up for the radio.
Mhodir: ...Good.
Thipoqo: Well then! Time for our meeting!
Mhodir: Of course. I just need to check on something. Documents.
[Mhodir walks back to T'l's office, where T'l is waiting.]
Mhodir: He does not seem suspicious of me. We're fine to go on with the framing as long as you stay calm. I do not know if you have another choice.
[T'l stands up, grabbing onto Mhodir's arm.]
Mhodir: Not now. And don't show me any feelings until this is over.
[T'l lets go, staring out at the long hallway before him. Mhodir turns and begins walking to the meeting room. When Mhodir turns a corner out of sight, T'l follows.]
T'l: Haaaavata.
[T'l slowly approaches the doorway to the meeting room. He shifts his hearing aid and steps in.]
Thipoqo: Ah! T'l is here. The meeting commences now, then. We will maintain civil and relevant discussion regarding government matter for one hour at minimum, more if required.
[T'l slumps into his red chair, composing himself as he usually does. One way or another, this is the last time he will have to endure a meeting with Thipoqo. The thought comforts him. Today's the day.]
[Some time past sunrise. The meeting ran on for longer than necessary. Only a brief amount of time before the Grand Council steps on stage.]
Thipoqo: I believe that concludes everything! We have a few moments before my address, so—
T'l: Our address.
Thipoqo: Right. Ah, Mhodir, a quick word with you in private?
T'l: This is private, Piqo. Whatever you need to say to him, I'm sure you can say it to me.
[Mhodir glares at T'l, who shrinks in his seat. Mhodir gets up and steps out of the room. Thipoqo follows.]
Thipoqo: I'd just like to thank you, T'tathos, for your help with this endeavor of mine. Truthfully, I could have revealed everything on the stage with V'sha, but, well…
[Thipoqo chuckles.]
Thipoqo: I suppose I just enjoy the showmanship. Am I really a politician otherwise?
[Mhodir stares at Thipoqo.]
Thipoqo: Anyways, thanks for humoring me. And after this is done, you won't have to keep up appearances with him anymore.
Mhodir: Excuse me?
Thipoqo: I know you two have been bickering. I've been there plenty of times. I suppose it might help you to know, ah.
[Thipoqo glances at the photograph in his robe pocket. The photograph of his wife.]
Thipoqo: It might help you to know that, whoever you love, they'll always be with you. In your soul.
Mhodir: Okay. Thanks.
[Mhodir steps back inside the meeting room, placing a hand on T'l's shoulder.]
Mhodir: Time for us to go.
[T'l taps his arm on his heart. He stands up and walks into the hallway, passing Thipoqo. Mhodir follows suit. Thipoqo takes a last look at the meeting room before heading down the hall, behind the two.]
[All three turn and head down the stairs, past the guards, into the backstage area. The curtains form a wall, save for a sliver of light in the middle. Crew members crowd the room, readying the live broadcast. Assistants tend to the Council. The Council waits for their cue.]
[...]
[The curtains part.]
Continued in Record:Smackdown.